Thursday, November 29, 2007

so bad, what's my problem?

i have found myself unable to write anything lately.
i'm in a kind of apathetic fog
i don't blog about current events because i don't keep current with the events.
are there events beyond MSN's home page coverage of Brangelina and Britney and the dollar levels?
my newspapers pile up, waiting for me to read them.
my household paper work does the same.
am i living out of country?
nah. . just a procrastinator.
work has me in a spin these days.
of course its busy in there
i know everyone's in that boat -- *the 'busy' boat* (i'm starting to hate the word 'busy' - and i've been entertaining the notion of striking it from my vocab and subbing something less annoying. . . like 'active' or 'industrious')
i wish i could jump ship and go over to the 'lazy' boat
work =
drama
stuff
issues
actual job stuff and lots of it
chocolate breaks *groups of women at work? say no more.*
come home with Rob
vent all the way home to each other (we work in the same place - different departments)
figure out what to make for supper
make supper
clean up
flop in the chair
think about working out, but don't cuz i'm too tired
doze off. .
think about all the Christmas shopping i must do. . .
and don't do it cuz i don't feel like it
get up
do laundry
retrieve phone messages
retrieve emails
catch up on both
get mail and papers from outside - add them to growing piles inside
read (not the stuff in the piles)
watch a show/movie
wonder how our girls are doing
wonder how the grandkids are doing
wonder how my Scrabulous games are doing on FB
play a turn or two. . .
make lunches for next day
choose outfit for next day
put out breakfast
put out toiletries to make it faster in the a.m.
fall into bed
sleep
up at 6:45
let dog out
check her food/water dishes
feel guilty for leaving her home alone all day
get ready
drive in to work
repeat daily drill until its the weekend
then a brief crash before 'the cram' (trying to do everything you want to do all week in the span of 48 hours)

i'm such a whiner
my apologies. . .
this is the 'empty nester' life/workstyle - younger moms have all the 'active' stuff with their young kids to deal with.
garsh. . . i'm already getting in practice for my 'grumpy old woman' years,
complaining about everything

it is hard though to go from working at home *which i've done for years* to working in the office.
working at home means rolling out of bed 10 minutes before you start your shift
putting on yoga pants and sweater, slippers
go downstairs - get cereal
splash face with water
no make up
no doing of the hair
go to computer
work
no drama
no stuff
no chocolate breaks
no conversations
no lunchtime banter with the girls.

you know what?
the daily routine ain't so bad
i'll shut up now.
i took out some butter earlier
maybe i'll get a start on my Christmas baking?
yes, i know lots of people think baked goods are 'no nos'
but i like 'no nos', anything i shouldn't have or do. . i'm gonna!!
anything i should ?. . you guessed it. . . can't help myself.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

i'm not ready for all this

it started right after Halloween.
the 'lite rock' station was on in the office *shudder*. . that's a whole other blog topic.
i'm not a fan of any radio station - whose play lists daily expose me to gems like: "Shake Your Booty", "Rhythm of My Heart" and "Live Like You Were Dying". . geez, i can't bear the cheese.
After every couple of insipid songs, they began airing these 'holiday' commercials.
I felt so unprepared to hear these things.
Rapid-fire voiceovers superimposed on jingle bellish, string-heavy muzak tracks
I thought i might hurl.
I mentioned to this to one of my co workers, who seemed unfazed.
Maybe she was better able to tune it all out?
The more hours went by listening to all that crap,
the more angry i became.
Angry with the propagandish pressure on us to buy things.
Angry with society's interpretation of 'holiday'
Angry with the misdirection of it all.

I can't even pick up the newspapers lately. . they weigh half a ton - full of
gift-buying guides
wish books
countdown to savings
Christmas countdown
holiday baking editions
holiday magic
festive recipes
holiday home improvement guide

I don't really like being guided in this way.
I don't think its the right way.
I feel under so much pressure.
Pressure to choose and shop and spend and clean and bake and organize and cook and wrap and decorate and look great at all the soirees -- then there's the small matter of working full time and cramming all that extra stuff in there somewhere.
Is it just women who feel like this?

I've pretty much stopped with the Christmas cards.
They were just one more thing - sending cards to people i see all the time. .
I'm trying to keep myself together mentally
and spiritually.
Not easy at holiday time,
which i find pretty ironic

Holiday: O.E. halingdoeg -- 'holy day'
holy: of God, his works, dwelling place, attributes, etc.
living a life of spiritual purity, dedicated, set apart for sacred use O.E. halig

I don't want to seem grinchy
I love Christmas trees
I love candles
I love music
I love the traditional meal, cookies, mincemeat, egg nog
I even love fruitcake (which is a brave confession, i know)
I love feasting with people i love
I love giving to help others
I love to celebrate
I love the way people 'feel the Christmas spirit' -- beautiful
I love the love story of Christ - the Messiah, the Redeemer
I need redemption, i need love

I guess i just worry that we've lost our collective way
I worry that we've lost the essence of holy days
I worry that we buckle under the intense pressure of the 'holiday culture' -- 'Ho, ho, ho!', Frosty and Rudolph and "Buy yourself a merry little Christmas". .
keeping it lite and avoiding the light
drinking, feasting, jockeying for parking spots at the mall
drowning in a sea of desperately-seeking shoppers
feeling tinsel covered yet empty
donating a little something to assuage our feelings of guilt with this overboard overabundance
eating shortbread while wondering if we're still sane
wondering if this is how it will always feel
wondering how to feel

All the streets are filled with laughter and light and the music of the season
and the merchant's windows are all bright with the faces of the children
and the families hurrying to their homes as the sky darkens and freezes
they'll be gathering around their hearths and tales, giving thanks for all God's graces
and the birth of the rebel Jesus

Well they call him by the Prince of Peace and they call him by the Saviour
and they pray to him upon the seas and in every bold endeavour
as they fill his churches with their pride and gold and their faith in him increases
but they've turned the nature that i worship in from a temple to a robber's den,

in the words of the rebel Jesus

well we guard our world with locks and guns and we guard our fine possessions
and once a year when Christmas comes, we give to our relations
and perhaps we give a little to the poor if the generosity should seize us
but if any one of us should interefere in the business of why they're poor
they get the same as the rebel Jesus

So please forgive me if i seem to take the tone of judgement
for i've no wish to come between this day and your enjoyment
in this life of hardship and of earthly toil we have need for anything that frees us
so i bid you pleasure and i bid your cheer from a heathen and a pagan
on the side of the rebel Jesus

Jackson Browne

Sunday, November 04, 2007

leaving things

Today i was cooking and thinking, to music.
I was making a meal for my family --
every meal leaves a memory
such a simple thing,
a small way to show love.

I started to think about so many people i know, i've known.
I was thinking about what they've left.
I don't really mean physical departure leaving, though some have physically departed in a locational way and some in an eternal way.
I'm thinking along emotional, soul lines you know?
the things people leave every day.

i know people who travel the world.
They leave home to do more leaving,
leaving music in the air of countless gyms, halls, arenas and venues around the globe.
leaving well-spoken words of encouragement, challenge.
leaving behind smiles and photographs, autographs

i know people who don't go anywhere.
they stay but they leave --
words
impressions
feelings
honesty
looks
wisdom
experience
talent

some people leave big things. . things that people who don't even know them would know about.
sure, lots of people have left big things -big things can be good or bad.
legacies
atrocities
most of us don't leave 'big', but even the small can take on big proportions.

i know someone who paid tribute to his departed wife by describing all that she left.
not 'things', not big. .
moments --
he loved her for them all.
i loved her too.
she left me memories,
good ones

i know people who brought so much with them and left even more
when they departed. . changed lives, thoughts, perspectives
Things left will always remain. .
this can be really good.

i knew people i thought would never die.
my child's mind could not accept this kind of leaving.
by the time they did, they had left so much
i feel like i am 'me' because of the accumulation of all the
things they might not have thought much about.
things i might not have really appreciated at the time -but do now.
memories
feelings

i want to be more intentional about what i leave.
yes, i'm ashamed of all the bad stuff i've left. .
angry words
bad responses
knee-jerk reactions
selfish choices
things i can't change
*only human? yes.
still, there's a higher calling.*

i can't leave what isn't fit to leave
no matter if someone else did.
i can't allow this to colour what i leave.
its hard to break cycles like this,
but not impossible.

i want to live my days being conscious of what i leave for others
i can't leave what i don't have.
love is the only thing that makes everything all right.
its not often easy to receive,
or give. . .
but its the only thing worth leaving.

in your love, my salvation lies in your love
my salvation lies in your love . . - Alexi Murdoch "Orange Sky"


Lets stop just saying we love each other, lets really show it by our actions- its by our actions that we know we are living in the Truth. portions of 1 John 3: 18 - 19