tricky. . . balance is tricky.
It seems like life is designed to throw you off balance and a lot of living seems to consist in trying to fight against this tendency to pitch wildly in one direction or the other. Living can seem so pre-emptive, corrective. Think about it for a bit. Your daily life. How much of a balancing act is that?! Each part of you - body, soul, spirit needs balance and the whole 'you' needs it.
Basic stuff - eating, sleeping, being active. It's just so easy to screw these things up - never mind the other stuff! I feel like I don't quite have a handle on even the basics. I try to eat well, but I don't always succeed. I've wasted pennies making wishes to eat whatever and not suffer for it! I have not been given a supersonic metabolism. D'OH! I don't listen to my body when it tells me it's tired. I'm a notorious nighthawk. I'm even proud of this and 'wear' it as if it's some badge of honour! Silly, I know. It's true that I love the night. . it's when I feel at my best. It's my time. I happened to marry a man who's so much the same! So yeah, neither of us has the sense God gave us!!! GO TO BED!!! But I'm always pushing the envelope. . now it's turning around to bite me you know where! I have learned that I cannot stay up till 2 a.m. every day and expect not to suffer for it in so many ways. Being active. . . well thankfully I've more often tended to want control in this area than not. I really have fallen right off the other end though. I swear, I've had times in my adult life when I've gone "Jabba". . I do NOT want to move. . I wanna sit or lie around. I don't want to care about my muscles or my body fat to lean muscle mass ratio! Sometimes, in the past, I've said "Ptooey!" to fitness and thought of fitness buffs as obsessive and shallow. But now I do understand how necessary it is to move and get in shape and stay in shape. Balance.
Do you know what I'm saying?
Emotions, thoughts, spirit. . there's so much to balance and it's the heaviest stuff and it so easily tips the scale. I think it depends a lot on personality. I'm so prone to excess in every way. I don't just like things I must LOVE them! I am not touched by another's emotions or situations, I'm devastated by them. I don't often think 'meh' about anything. . I have to FEEL and the quality of feeling is, of course, intense. I cannot control my tears. I cannot control my tongue. I cannot control my thoughts. . they're always running fast and furious. I am not angered, I'm enraged. I'm not interested, I'm excited! Control? Balance? Help, I need help!!! I make myself crazy, and though I feel unrestrained and think I should be constrained, there rises this feeling of exuberance so real it's almost got a form, which I have to throw my arms around. Is that weird that I embrace my imbalance? It seems so much a part of me I think I love it?
Life does throw a lot at us. We're all notoriously out of balance. . It's hard to remain centered. Society sends out a constant barrage of messages and images - makes us teeter and topple. Sometimes I think about this and I get mad. It's hard to remain unscathed, unaffected. Maybe monks can remain unaffected. Maybe hermits. Maybe those who have switched off and opted out. If i think of things globally i feel 'sullied and unusual' (thanx for that one, Captain Jack!). Such wild swings of the pendulum. Opulence, hideous poverty. Greed, grace. Lush, barren. Industry, indolence. Sometimes I'm amazed that the planet can still turn on it's axis, cuz it's so off! I can picture the developing countries as if all those people were on a teeter totter and us in the West, we're holding them up in the air and they're screaming "Let us down, Charlie Brown!" and we are so 'fat' we can hold them up without even trying. We're sleek and unconcerned. We don't hear them and we tip it our way and hold it there interminably. Balance?
Spirit. . what is that? what does that mean? This is probably the biggest area of humanity's imbalance of all the areas that exist. So much to say, so much to say. But how to say it? To me, spirit is the thing you're missing. . the thing you can't fill up, the thing you can't buy, the thing you can't put your finger on, the thing that nags at you in your quietest moments, the thing that's missed when everything else has been checked off. Spirit is the thing that won't let you be. You can do anything and everything to ignore it. You can try. Some people even make it all the way to the exit ramp procrastinating, avoiding spirit's quiet certainty. Spirit is who you are supposed to be. Spirit is your vital connection to The One and there is only one and if you've read my stuff before, you know I'm saying it's God and I would not put this out there if I didn't believe with every cell in my body this is true. People are really good at avoiding and replacing, making do, bypassing. I know and I did. I'll let you know something if you don't know. This one area, spirit, it's the one that makes people nuts, it makes them go off in a million different directions, following this philosophy and that idea, and the other group and every shifting wind that blows. It's also the one area that makes people angry, the one that makes them roll their eyes, the one that divides them, makes them change the subject, makes them tune out. This one area is the key to balance for every single thing, every area of life and living.
Balance.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Saturday, July 08, 2006
good book and a bowl of cherries
Rob's playing his friend's Tele in the basement, messin' around with pedals and effects. I'm up on the couch reading Carson McCuller's "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter". I had a hankering for cherries, so i'm into a bowl of them now. They're a rich maroon colour and they're good and sweet, smooth-skinned and juicy.
I'm just getting into this novel. I love the way it's written:
"He began to name over parts of his coming meal. When he spoke of food his face was fierce with gusto. With each word he raised his upper lip like a ravenous animal. 'Roast beef with gravy. Rice. And cabbage and light bread. And a big hunk of apple pie. I'm famished. Oh, Johnny, I can hear the Yankees coming. And speaking of meals, my friend, did I ever tell you about Mr. Clark Patterson, the gentleman who owns the Sunny Dixie Show? He's so fat he hasn't seen his privates for twenty years and all day he sits in his trailer playing solitaire and smoking reefers. . ."
"He watched the game of his friend and felt the mild, quiet afternoon merge with the darkness of evening. The firelight made dark, silent waves on the walls of the room."
"He waited for the black, terrible anger as though for some beast out of the night. But it did not come to him. His bowels seemed weighted with lead, and he walked slowly and lingered against fences and the cold, wet walls of buildings by the way. Descent into the depths until at last there was no further chasm below. He touched the solid bottom of despair and there took ease."
This story, set in the 'dirty 30s', deals with racial tension among the residents of a mill town in Georgia. I'm really enjoying this tale and I'm staring at a bowl full of pits and stems here now. Time for a refill!
Are you reading anything good at the moment? I'd love to hear about it!!!
I'm just getting into this novel. I love the way it's written:
"He began to name over parts of his coming meal. When he spoke of food his face was fierce with gusto. With each word he raised his upper lip like a ravenous animal. 'Roast beef with gravy. Rice. And cabbage and light bread. And a big hunk of apple pie. I'm famished. Oh, Johnny, I can hear the Yankees coming. And speaking of meals, my friend, did I ever tell you about Mr. Clark Patterson, the gentleman who owns the Sunny Dixie Show? He's so fat he hasn't seen his privates for twenty years and all day he sits in his trailer playing solitaire and smoking reefers. . ."
"He watched the game of his friend and felt the mild, quiet afternoon merge with the darkness of evening. The firelight made dark, silent waves on the walls of the room."
"He waited for the black, terrible anger as though for some beast out of the night. But it did not come to him. His bowels seemed weighted with lead, and he walked slowly and lingered against fences and the cold, wet walls of buildings by the way. Descent into the depths until at last there was no further chasm below. He touched the solid bottom of despair and there took ease."
This story, set in the 'dirty 30s', deals with racial tension among the residents of a mill town in Georgia. I'm really enjoying this tale and I'm staring at a bowl full of pits and stems here now. Time for a refill!
Are you reading anything good at the moment? I'd love to hear about it!!!
Monday, July 03, 2006
canoeing the Grand
Robbie and I enjoyed a good couple of hours on the surface of the Grand River yesterday. What a treat. First time we had the canoe out this season. We hate to look in the backyard, see the canoe unused, waiting for us. Sadly our schedule doesn't often allow us the time to get out there.
A bit of coolness. . As we drove, we saw this truck pulling a HUGE canoe, unlike any other we'd seen. Turns out it was a replica of an old 'voyageur' canoe and this was her maiden voyage. 10 eager people jumped into this gorgeous bark, to which we deferred departure in order to allow all the ladies on shore to video this auspicious launch (complete with champagne!) without us in the picture. They were so excited! The man who had laboured restoring this baby was calling out the rowing 'assignments'!! They paddled vigorously into the deeps. . and we pushed off and paddled in the opposite direction. Rob was in the rear and could better see them - they lasted all of 5 minutes and they were out!!! We wagered guesses. . did they take on water? was that just to say that they did it, and then they disembarked to party it up? We'll probably never know, but it really piqued our curiosity!!
I had to paddle from the middle of the canoe, as my moulded plastic front seat broke on one side . It threw off the balance a bit with me seated in the centre. I couldn't really get a good purchase of paddle into water cuz i was sitting at the widest part of the thing! Made the job a bit tougher than it is normally. This worked out fine paddling downstream with the current, wind at our backs. We talked and gazed at the gorgeous riverside homes with their private docks, launches, etc. All of them nestled high above water level, their back properties built right onto the rocky walls which line the waterway. Beautiful. Our paddles dipped and occasionally brought up strands of vegetation. There's something about being on the water. . its hard to describe. Really calming. We kept going, past the island that splits the river. . stayed well left of this - its quite shallow and turgid to the right of this habitat for herons and ducks. We rowed on and on, past the golf course - spying so many golf balls on the rocky bottom of this shallow stretch.
We went past the little waterfall on the left. . listening to the splash of the downpour, watching the water course downwards and dilute the algaed shoreline. We saw two large area of weed-choked shore, with a clear path through the middle. . we stayed the course and got through this bottleneck, only to end up stuck fast in some weed that seemed to be just surface stuff. We were thinking that we'd slice right through it. . . not so! It was like padding into cement. We had to push our way out backwards. Thank God we broke free from this stinking, matted trap! We were in uncharted territory and it was cool. I noticed the exceedingly long, thick stranded plant life on the bottom. . how it lay down and grew in the direction of the current. . every single strand of it. . there were no rebels -- each one conformed - as if they had a choice in that strong undertow. That was a truly 'go with the flow' visual. I thought spiritual thoughts. .
Finally I said to Rob that I'd like to turn back. . he agreed, so we reversed and began the return trip. Things were great. . the river was calm and easy. I watched the wind shift and touch the water's surface. There was a single touch point from which this fantastic, flowing pattern appeared before my eyes. . almost like watching the proliferation of ice crystals on a cold windowpane. . it was rapid, sweeping toward us and continued underneath us and beyond. I'd never seen that before. It caught my breath for a moment. As we rounded a bend, carefully staying in the middle of the watery expanse. . we encountered a sudden, furious, hard-driving, stiff wind; against the likes of which we were completely powerless to advance. We paddled hard, my biceps burned from the strain. . my legs braced against either side of the canoe as it tossed on the waves (yes, waves on the river - i'd never seen those!) We managed to steer in such a way as to cut across horizontally - and things got pretty tippy. . we were over the deeps and i was not wanting to go in! I leaned to the right to get better oar/water contact. . not a good idea!!! instantly destabilized us. . Rob yelled out "Don't tip us!" I corrected position and he shouted: 'Keep rowing!' I tried. . I grunted with the effort. . If the weeds had felt like being stuck in cement, rowing in this wind felt like nothing i can describe!! We finally caught a break from the wind and got back in the right direction. I could see the docks!!! Hallelujah!!! Watching us from the nearby, hilly shore was a couple and their child. . their rental canoe lay face down on the grass. They were waiting to be picked up. As we neared them, the woman called out "Why bother?!" Had to admit, she was right. We joked and laughed back and forth. We were able to paddle, though it was still difficult and after taking way longer than usual to get back. . we got stuck once more, in some sucking, quick-sandy mud near the far dock. More back paddling through the fetid glop. . such a disgusting odour!
Man! was it nice to get out of that position, stretch the legs and have some relief from that intense work!!! The Grand threw us a real challenge this trip, which we appreciated and learned from. Its NOT always smooth paddling, when you get stuck you've gotta go back to get out of it, your hard work and direction may suddenly be challenged and even changed and you have no choice but submit if you wish to keep from exhausting yourself, or falling in deep and last but not least, being up against a powerful force makes you realize how small and powerless you really are!!! I didn't bank on a spiritual lesson. I envisioned a sweetly sublime row out and back. Instead I got a 2-hour lesson in humility, weakness and how to go with the flow. A short while after we got home and sat down, the fatigue set in. . but it felt good in every way.
A bit of coolness. . As we drove, we saw this truck pulling a HUGE canoe, unlike any other we'd seen. Turns out it was a replica of an old 'voyageur' canoe and this was her maiden voyage. 10 eager people jumped into this gorgeous bark, to which we deferred departure in order to allow all the ladies on shore to video this auspicious launch (complete with champagne!) without us in the picture. They were so excited! The man who had laboured restoring this baby was calling out the rowing 'assignments'!! They paddled vigorously into the deeps. . and we pushed off and paddled in the opposite direction. Rob was in the rear and could better see them - they lasted all of 5 minutes and they were out!!! We wagered guesses. . did they take on water? was that just to say that they did it, and then they disembarked to party it up? We'll probably never know, but it really piqued our curiosity!!
I had to paddle from the middle of the canoe, as my moulded plastic front seat broke on one side . It threw off the balance a bit with me seated in the centre. I couldn't really get a good purchase of paddle into water cuz i was sitting at the widest part of the thing! Made the job a bit tougher than it is normally. This worked out fine paddling downstream with the current, wind at our backs. We talked and gazed at the gorgeous riverside homes with their private docks, launches, etc. All of them nestled high above water level, their back properties built right onto the rocky walls which line the waterway. Beautiful. Our paddles dipped and occasionally brought up strands of vegetation. There's something about being on the water. . its hard to describe. Really calming. We kept going, past the island that splits the river. . stayed well left of this - its quite shallow and turgid to the right of this habitat for herons and ducks. We rowed on and on, past the golf course - spying so many golf balls on the rocky bottom of this shallow stretch.
We went past the little waterfall on the left. . listening to the splash of the downpour, watching the water course downwards and dilute the algaed shoreline. We saw two large area of weed-choked shore, with a clear path through the middle. . we stayed the course and got through this bottleneck, only to end up stuck fast in some weed that seemed to be just surface stuff. We were thinking that we'd slice right through it. . . not so! It was like padding into cement. We had to push our way out backwards. Thank God we broke free from this stinking, matted trap! We were in uncharted territory and it was cool. I noticed the exceedingly long, thick stranded plant life on the bottom. . how it lay down and grew in the direction of the current. . every single strand of it. . there were no rebels -- each one conformed - as if they had a choice in that strong undertow. That was a truly 'go with the flow' visual. I thought spiritual thoughts. .
Finally I said to Rob that I'd like to turn back. . he agreed, so we reversed and began the return trip. Things were great. . the river was calm and easy. I watched the wind shift and touch the water's surface. There was a single touch point from which this fantastic, flowing pattern appeared before my eyes. . almost like watching the proliferation of ice crystals on a cold windowpane. . it was rapid, sweeping toward us and continued underneath us and beyond. I'd never seen that before. It caught my breath for a moment. As we rounded a bend, carefully staying in the middle of the watery expanse. . we encountered a sudden, furious, hard-driving, stiff wind; against the likes of which we were completely powerless to advance. We paddled hard, my biceps burned from the strain. . my legs braced against either side of the canoe as it tossed on the waves (yes, waves on the river - i'd never seen those!) We managed to steer in such a way as to cut across horizontally - and things got pretty tippy. . we were over the deeps and i was not wanting to go in! I leaned to the right to get better oar/water contact. . not a good idea!!! instantly destabilized us. . Rob yelled out "Don't tip us!" I corrected position and he shouted: 'Keep rowing!' I tried. . I grunted with the effort. . If the weeds had felt like being stuck in cement, rowing in this wind felt like nothing i can describe!! We finally caught a break from the wind and got back in the right direction. I could see the docks!!! Hallelujah!!! Watching us from the nearby, hilly shore was a couple and their child. . their rental canoe lay face down on the grass. They were waiting to be picked up. As we neared them, the woman called out "Why bother?!" Had to admit, she was right. We joked and laughed back and forth. We were able to paddle, though it was still difficult and after taking way longer than usual to get back. . we got stuck once more, in some sucking, quick-sandy mud near the far dock. More back paddling through the fetid glop. . such a disgusting odour!
Man! was it nice to get out of that position, stretch the legs and have some relief from that intense work!!! The Grand threw us a real challenge this trip, which we appreciated and learned from. Its NOT always smooth paddling, when you get stuck you've gotta go back to get out of it, your hard work and direction may suddenly be challenged and even changed and you have no choice but submit if you wish to keep from exhausting yourself, or falling in deep and last but not least, being up against a powerful force makes you realize how small and powerless you really are!!! I didn't bank on a spiritual lesson. I envisioned a sweetly sublime row out and back. Instead I got a 2-hour lesson in humility, weakness and how to go with the flow. A short while after we got home and sat down, the fatigue set in. . but it felt good in every way.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
My Canada
Happy Birthday, Canada!!!!
You are my home and native land.
I love your rocks and trees and water. . some people may joke that's all you are, but we know better!
I love your mountains. . they make me feel so small and fill me with awe.
I love your oceans and your lakes, your rivers - life giving and sustaining.
You are diversely and beautifully cultured -- so many nations in one. We all belong.
You have enduring symbols, heroes, icons, celebrities, sports -- Banting, Trudeau, the maple leaf, the beaver, basketball, the loon, Tommy Douglas, hockey, Tim Horton's, RCAF, The Great One, Canadian Tire!!
You're self-effacing and modest.
Your heart is peaceful.
Your social programs, though certainly flawed, are so appreciated.
Your politicians, though clay-footed, govern and advocate for all of us.
Your democracy and freedom - though lacking fanfare and trumpeting abroad - is precious and too often underappreciated.
Canada. . i don't tell you often enough how much i love and appreciate you!
I love your 'flavour'. . not too strong, not too bland. . to me you're just right.
I love your tolerance, but please do guard against being so completely open that you don't stand up for anything, especially your own founding principles.
I was born within your boundaries and will most likely end my life within those same boundaries.
I've traveled to other countries. I've seen their beauty and experienced their flavour.
For me, there's nothing like coming home to you.
Canada, its an honour to be one of yours.
You are my home and native land.
I love your rocks and trees and water. . some people may joke that's all you are, but we know better!
I love your mountains. . they make me feel so small and fill me with awe.
I love your oceans and your lakes, your rivers - life giving and sustaining.
You are diversely and beautifully cultured -- so many nations in one. We all belong.
You have enduring symbols, heroes, icons, celebrities, sports -- Banting, Trudeau, the maple leaf, the beaver, basketball, the loon, Tommy Douglas, hockey, Tim Horton's, RCAF, The Great One, Canadian Tire!!
You're self-effacing and modest.
Your heart is peaceful.
Your social programs, though certainly flawed, are so appreciated.
Your politicians, though clay-footed, govern and advocate for all of us.
Your democracy and freedom - though lacking fanfare and trumpeting abroad - is precious and too often underappreciated.
Canada. . i don't tell you often enough how much i love and appreciate you!
I love your 'flavour'. . not too strong, not too bland. . to me you're just right.
I love your tolerance, but please do guard against being so completely open that you don't stand up for anything, especially your own founding principles.
I was born within your boundaries and will most likely end my life within those same boundaries.
I've traveled to other countries. I've seen their beauty and experienced their flavour.
For me, there's nothing like coming home to you.
Canada, its an honour to be one of yours.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
don't feel so bloggy
I'm feeling lately like i don't have much to say. This may excite some of you?! (as you anticipate a short-winded post?). I realize I have a tendency to 'go long', but I'm not usually cognizant of length so much as just going with it when i'm in the 'blog-writing zone'! The breeze is so fresh today. The climbing vines on the deck trellises are gorgeously green. I love the rustling sound they make as the wind disturbs them. Our umbrella and table/chairs looks really inviting. We've already spent some beautiful outdoor time. As I sit here I can see right through the sliding glass door and I feel like those cushioned chairs are calling me. Summer in this part of Ontario can be so lovely. Today I would say early summer beauty is at it's zenith. The flowers are all in bloom, though the grass is a tad on the parched side. Our planting is done. I'm saying a prayer for my now planted, dried-out perennials. They may come back? I hope so!! They got a dose of Miracle gro and i'm giving them lots of H2o. I love to enjoy the gardens. . just don't enjoy putting in the work! Maybe when I'm retired I'll become the stereotypical grandmother out in her gardens, weeding and pruning. I can't see it. . but I won't rule it out. Young grandmothers like me don't fit 'the mould'. I don't buy my clothes at Tan-Jay or Northern Reflections *massive shudder*. I don't know how to knit or crochet. I don't have dentures. I work full time. I don't wear high-waisted, tapered leg, or pleat-front pants! (God greatly forbid!) I don't call my grandchildren "dear", I don't have bifocals and I don't wear support hose.
I missed watching CBC "Sunday" today. . http://www.cbc.ca. I slept in. (I did way too much yesterday physically and stayed up WAY too late!) Instead I sat down with a couple of good CDs. . . downhere's "Wide Eyed and Mystified" and Brian Houston's "Rollercoaster". I read my Bible. I'm working into the 90s in the Psalms. . and I'm in Colossians as well. . I journaled my prayers. I like that . . I'm really into journaling. . have been for years. I don't write a 'did this, went there' diary. I write to God and tell Him exactly what I'm thinking, how i'm feeling. . of course He knows and no, I don't have to do that. . its for me - but i think He loves that i write to Him. I thank Him, I ask him questions. I ask Him for answers. I lay it all out on the pages. What gives me a great buzz is that I can go back and write in the dates of answers to my questions and pleas. . its like proof to help me believe that He's the genuine article, which experientially I know him to be. I get a lot more out of sitting in the quiet with Him. . this is where I need to be at this point in my life. It may seem a bit 'isolationist' to those who feel it necessary to 'go to church'. For the past 2 years, this has been my 'church'. Maybe i'm in a desert place, but I'm at the oasis. I'm no longer wandering delirious and ragged with thirst. I'm not crawling on my belly in the dust. . I'm seeing a path and I'm walking it. I'm learning to be in relationship with the invisible Almighty. I love this time. I love how He's become my teacher, He's the one I look to and admire. He's the one I ask questions of. He's the one who is there for me, always. He's the one who gives me dreams. He's the one who takes up residence in my spirit. . He's the one who sets the example. He's the reason I exist and He's the reason I breathe, think, speak and move. I've learned that without Him I am a black hole of self. . . taking everything in and giving nothing out. The power of self is frightening but there is a greater power. I'm learning about daily, sometimes hourly what it is to surrender my will. . to His. If I surrender, I can change from a black hole, where no light gets out, to a supernova. . light exploding out from the centre, eliminating darkness. Its not my light. . its His. . not my power. . not my anything. . this is what i'm learning, its not about me, its all about Him. *i'm no expert on deep space. . but these seemed to fit in here!*
This is where I am in my spirit. I'm in training. I'm learning. I'm just excited to own a spirit! I know that I've always had one. . but it was given up for dead before I began to know Jesus and follow after Him. That is as honest as I can be. This is what my entire new life has amounted to, knowing and following. There's a lot out there to know and there are lots of people and paths and 'beliefs' to follow. . i've been there. . now I'm here with Him. . I like this much better.
Wow. . this started out to be about 'nothing', then shifted to the weather, then the desert. . now we're in deep space and in the spirit realm. .
I should go. . . its been a good day. Thanx for going along with me here. . yes, it was a little 'all over the place' but that's just how my thoughts are going tonight.
I missed watching CBC "Sunday" today. . http://www.cbc.ca. I slept in. (I did way too much yesterday physically and stayed up WAY too late!) Instead I sat down with a couple of good CDs. . . downhere's "Wide Eyed and Mystified" and Brian Houston's "Rollercoaster". I read my Bible. I'm working into the 90s in the Psalms. . and I'm in Colossians as well. . I journaled my prayers. I like that . . I'm really into journaling. . have been for years. I don't write a 'did this, went there' diary. I write to God and tell Him exactly what I'm thinking, how i'm feeling. . of course He knows and no, I don't have to do that. . its for me - but i think He loves that i write to Him. I thank Him, I ask him questions. I ask Him for answers. I lay it all out on the pages. What gives me a great buzz is that I can go back and write in the dates of answers to my questions and pleas. . its like proof to help me believe that He's the genuine article, which experientially I know him to be. I get a lot more out of sitting in the quiet with Him. . this is where I need to be at this point in my life. It may seem a bit 'isolationist' to those who feel it necessary to 'go to church'. For the past 2 years, this has been my 'church'. Maybe i'm in a desert place, but I'm at the oasis. I'm no longer wandering delirious and ragged with thirst. I'm not crawling on my belly in the dust. . I'm seeing a path and I'm walking it. I'm learning to be in relationship with the invisible Almighty. I love this time. I love how He's become my teacher, He's the one I look to and admire. He's the one I ask questions of. He's the one who is there for me, always. He's the one who gives me dreams. He's the one who takes up residence in my spirit. . He's the one who sets the example. He's the reason I exist and He's the reason I breathe, think, speak and move. I've learned that without Him I am a black hole of self. . . taking everything in and giving nothing out. The power of self is frightening but there is a greater power. I'm learning about daily, sometimes hourly what it is to surrender my will. . to His. If I surrender, I can change from a black hole, where no light gets out, to a supernova. . light exploding out from the centre, eliminating darkness. Its not my light. . its His. . not my power. . not my anything. . this is what i'm learning, its not about me, its all about Him. *i'm no expert on deep space. . but these seemed to fit in here!*
This is where I am in my spirit. I'm in training. I'm learning. I'm just excited to own a spirit! I know that I've always had one. . but it was given up for dead before I began to know Jesus and follow after Him. That is as honest as I can be. This is what my entire new life has amounted to, knowing and following. There's a lot out there to know and there are lots of people and paths and 'beliefs' to follow. . i've been there. . now I'm here with Him. . I like this much better.
Wow. . this started out to be about 'nothing', then shifted to the weather, then the desert. . now we're in deep space and in the spirit realm. .
I should go. . . its been a good day. Thanx for going along with me here. . yes, it was a little 'all over the place' but that's just how my thoughts are going tonight.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
hell's kitchen
Gordon Ramsay. . the shar pei of the culinary world! Gordon, the wrinkled one. Gordon the rugby-playing chef. Gordon the laughing all the way to the bank chef. Gordon, the Profane One. Gordon the TV star. Gordon the restaurateur. Gordon the blond. Gordon the hot tempered. We love Gordon!!!!
http://www.fox.com/hellskitchen
click and go to hell. . . .'s kitchen!!
Robbie and I are hopelessly hooked on Gordon Ramsay.
http://foodtv.ca/ontv/titledetails.aspx?titleid=96344
I love to watch cooking shows, so no surprise there. Rob just loves Gordon cuz Gordon's so brashly outspoken. We always laugh when the bleeped out dialogue is more than the kept in dialogue! We just look at each other with open-mouthed, shocked hilarity and we laugh and gasp when he calls people "wankers" or idiots. We love to see how dorky people can be. . running restaurants when they can't cook, owning bars when they have no business sense. We are delightfully aghast when we see the insane scenarios in his "Kitchen Nightmares" adventures. Chef Ramsay travels the U.K., hired by desperate owners in hopes of redeeming their troubled businesses. Oh the filthy kitchens, gungy kitchens, messy, bug infested, cluttered! Gross! We watch in disbelief as 'head chefs' who couldn't cook to save their lives invite a big gun like Ramsay to give them a shake down and a smack upside the head as only Gordo can do! They're ballsy or ridiculous. . not sure which. Some of the visited establishments are top drawer, with imported foods, fine linens on the front of house tables, and no bodies at these tables. . pricing themselves right out of business, or serving the wrong kind of cuisine for the region. Gordo's impressive business sense, his kitchen leadership knowledge, his culinary skills. . . and his no nonsense delivery is pure magic. He's every ailing and failing restaurant's brutal saviour.
Hell's Kitchen. . . bamalam! This series makes "Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares" Gordon look like Mr. Rogers. . whoa!! Like the million other 'reality shows' out there. . this one has eliminations every episode until that magic moment when the winning chef is given their own restaurant to run. The difference is location and occupation. Kitchen and chef. No island or torches. No board room. No race around the world. Just a screaming, swearing Scotsman in your face and on your case! I don't think I could take the abuse these wannabe chefs take?! They are all thrown into full service in 2 side-by-side, busy restaurant kitchens and asked to complete service each night. Naturally they can't do this and the results are spellbinding. Its like watching a trainwreck. . you can't look away, even though you may want to. Rapid-fire ticket reading by Gordon. . mass confusion as no one remembers the orders, no one seems to know how to cook the menu items properly. . communication doesn't happen, food is wasted and Gordon is screaming: "F*&@ Me!!! is that what you call a Wellington? throw it out!, F**&in' he**" "I said, 2 risotto, 1 scallop, 1 wellington and 1 salmon, now effin' MOVE!!!" F&@#!!! All the trainees are cracking under the pressure. . dithering, "Yes Chef-ing" and "No, Chef-ing". Gordon is fuming and muttering 'bloody He$$' shaking his blond noggin, furrowing his already lined brow. During last night's show he became so shocked as he watched the teams disintegrating into chaotic panic. . He quietly *for a change* said to his maitre'd: "I feel like I'm cooking with Muppets." At which point he then shouted his trademark: "SHUT IT DOWN!!!" The ovens are turned off and the beleagured trainees visibly slump and wilt. Rob and I exchange knowing glances and head nods. Rob often tries to predict the exact moment when 'the words' are coming by gauging the size of Ramsay's bulging neck veins! Its crazy fun watching this man's shows. Sometimes I think Gordon needs to attend an Anger Managament course. He's a rage-a-holic, but he's also hilarious and really affable when he's not pissed off.
So, if i've made you curious. . . check these shows out! If you're already a Gordon fan. . . what do you think of the inimitable Mr. Ramsay? We love him!!! There's no one like him in the world of 'food tv'. . . an angry, yelling Scotsman!!
http://www.fox.com/hellskitchen
click and go to hell. . . .'s kitchen!!
Robbie and I are hopelessly hooked on Gordon Ramsay.
http://foodtv.ca/ontv/titledetails.aspx?titleid=96344
I love to watch cooking shows, so no surprise there. Rob just loves Gordon cuz Gordon's so brashly outspoken. We always laugh when the bleeped out dialogue is more than the kept in dialogue! We just look at each other with open-mouthed, shocked hilarity and we laugh and gasp when he calls people "wankers" or idiots. We love to see how dorky people can be. . running restaurants when they can't cook, owning bars when they have no business sense. We are delightfully aghast when we see the insane scenarios in his "Kitchen Nightmares" adventures. Chef Ramsay travels the U.K., hired by desperate owners in hopes of redeeming their troubled businesses. Oh the filthy kitchens, gungy kitchens, messy, bug infested, cluttered! Gross! We watch in disbelief as 'head chefs' who couldn't cook to save their lives invite a big gun like Ramsay to give them a shake down and a smack upside the head as only Gordo can do! They're ballsy or ridiculous. . not sure which. Some of the visited establishments are top drawer, with imported foods, fine linens on the front of house tables, and no bodies at these tables. . pricing themselves right out of business, or serving the wrong kind of cuisine for the region. Gordo's impressive business sense, his kitchen leadership knowledge, his culinary skills. . . and his no nonsense delivery is pure magic. He's every ailing and failing restaurant's brutal saviour.
Hell's Kitchen. . . bamalam! This series makes "Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares" Gordon look like Mr. Rogers. . whoa!! Like the million other 'reality shows' out there. . this one has eliminations every episode until that magic moment when the winning chef is given their own restaurant to run. The difference is location and occupation. Kitchen and chef. No island or torches. No board room. No race around the world. Just a screaming, swearing Scotsman in your face and on your case! I don't think I could take the abuse these wannabe chefs take?! They are all thrown into full service in 2 side-by-side, busy restaurant kitchens and asked to complete service each night. Naturally they can't do this and the results are spellbinding. Its like watching a trainwreck. . you can't look away, even though you may want to. Rapid-fire ticket reading by Gordon. . mass confusion as no one remembers the orders, no one seems to know how to cook the menu items properly. . communication doesn't happen, food is wasted and Gordon is screaming: "F*&@ Me!!! is that what you call a Wellington? throw it out!, F**&in' he**" "I said, 2 risotto, 1 scallop, 1 wellington and 1 salmon, now effin' MOVE!!!" F&@#!!! All the trainees are cracking under the pressure. . dithering, "Yes Chef-ing" and "No, Chef-ing". Gordon is fuming and muttering 'bloody He$$' shaking his blond noggin, furrowing his already lined brow. During last night's show he became so shocked as he watched the teams disintegrating into chaotic panic. . He quietly *for a change* said to his maitre'd: "I feel like I'm cooking with Muppets." At which point he then shouted his trademark: "SHUT IT DOWN!!!" The ovens are turned off and the beleagured trainees visibly slump and wilt. Rob and I exchange knowing glances and head nods. Rob often tries to predict the exact moment when 'the words' are coming by gauging the size of Ramsay's bulging neck veins! Its crazy fun watching this man's shows. Sometimes I think Gordon needs to attend an Anger Managament course. He's a rage-a-holic, but he's also hilarious and really affable when he's not pissed off.
So, if i've made you curious. . . check these shows out! If you're already a Gordon fan. . . what do you think of the inimitable Mr. Ramsay? We love him!!! There's no one like him in the world of 'food tv'. . . an angry, yelling Scotsman!!
Friday, June 16, 2006
breathing
I hate being an asthmatic. I especially hate it when i catch something that's 'going around'. The average person will get an annoying cold, take their nyquil or whatever and they'll be able to get through it. I get the bug and right away it descends into my lungs, my 'twitchy airways' start doing what they do best. . constricting. I get the telltale heaviness and pressure like I have a baby elephant laying across my chest. Usually it will take about 5 - 7 days to get into this kind of trouble for me. This time 'round it only took 2. It kind of scared me how aggressive this 'whatever it is' got in there. I had a scratchy throat for a day and a half and them this incredible fatigue, like i couldn't sit upright, you know? then the cough. . the kind that burns when you cough, and aches. There there's the breathing. . . yesterday i did nothing except work my shift and sleep every chance i got. today I took a walk with Robbie and the puppy!! *Maggie!* I was gasping on level ground and that was AFTER my puffer. Pathetic. I saw the doc the other day, he had a listen and wrote me yet another prescription for Zithromax (antibiotic). I think I should get him to do a standing script order, cuz this happens to me usually once per season.
He talked to me about trying Singulair again. . (once a day pill) I tried it before, didn't seem to do much for me. He said its 50/50 . . for half of asthmatics its a wonder drug and for the others, doesn't do a thing! Figures i'd be in the latter group!!!! When I took this in addition to my puffer i was spending $160 a month on asthma medications. Thank God for drug plans and for living in a country where health care is pretty decent and accessible. What would happen to me if I couldn't afford to buy the medication that keeps me alive?!
Anyway, I'm tired again. . gotta get some rest. Sometimes i dream of being able to breathe like I used to when I was a child, before all this. I don't remember what it feels like to ever get one complete breath. I don't remember what its like to not take puffers two and three times a day. I don't know what it feels like to go for a walk in the cold without my airways closing off. I don't remember what its like to be able to withstand humidity without hiding in central aired buildings. I don't remember what it feels like to get a normal cold. I don't remember not wheezing and I hate that I don't remember all of these normal things. bah.
He talked to me about trying Singulair again. . (once a day pill) I tried it before, didn't seem to do much for me. He said its 50/50 . . for half of asthmatics its a wonder drug and for the others, doesn't do a thing! Figures i'd be in the latter group!!!! When I took this in addition to my puffer i was spending $160 a month on asthma medications. Thank God for drug plans and for living in a country where health care is pretty decent and accessible. What would happen to me if I couldn't afford to buy the medication that keeps me alive?!
Anyway, I'm tired again. . gotta get some rest. Sometimes i dream of being able to breathe like I used to when I was a child, before all this. I don't remember what it feels like to ever get one complete breath. I don't remember what its like to not take puffers two and three times a day. I don't know what it feels like to go for a walk in the cold without my airways closing off. I don't remember what its like to be able to withstand humidity without hiding in central aired buildings. I don't remember what it feels like to get a normal cold. I don't remember not wheezing and I hate that I don't remember all of these normal things. bah.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
turbo jam and my fitness life
So this is now THE adjunct to my vigorous dancing, yeah, baby!! Its a big energy ball of fun,sweat and pain called TURBOJAM. . and I LOVE it!!! More on that to come. . first the insane journey of my fitness life:
I have tried sooo many fitness regimens over the years. . you name it!!! Callanetics, ballet muscle work (still love it!), Yoga (been doing that since "Lillias, Yoga and You" in the 70s!!) I have always flirted with dance classes -- back in the 70s at the downtown YW in steeltown, in the 80s when my kiddies were young with the old DanceFit! and now with whatever style captures my fancy. . bellydancing, burlesque!! ooh la la! -no, not the Carmen Electra stuff. . I have the fruity, hippie chicks of "Yoga Booty Ballet"!! What they lack in heat, they make up for in coquettish cuteness! I've done some Brazilian street dance and swing too, though that's hard to learn alone. That's just my dance DVD collection! My heart still belongs to my beloved "Shemotions". .the live experience is the best.
What an amazing group of women! We meet twice a week to bust our moves and we sweat and laugh. AND EVEN MORE EXCITING, I'M DANCING WITH BOTH OF MY DAUGHTERS NOW!!! They're hooked!!! YES!
I have periodically haunted the exclusively women's gyms. . BORING!!! The only things I enjoyed were the live classes with all their energy. . Tina's Jammin' Cardio topping the list. . with all that hip hop and lyrical jazz. .FANTASTIC!!! What else have a tried?! *i get restless* I've tried all the Kathy Smith stuff. . . and she was THE QUEEN for a while. . I don't know what she hasn't done?! maybe spread things a bit thin? I've stepped up and down and sideways and backwards in step classes and at home, I've worked out to "The Firm" with its strength training and cardio intervals. . I've done TV exercise shows: "Charlene Prickett" was one of my faves. . I've done the Jane Fonda tapes, even had the leg warmers! ACK!!! I LOVED trampolining with my mini tramp!!! Its fun, but yeah, its only SO fun jumping up and down once the bombastic thrill wears off. Billy Blanks' Tae Bo. . . FRANTIC and yet so boring. . . wha?! Can frantic BE boring? Yes, it can. blech. . . I always felt when I did Tae Bo like i should have been more caffeinated like everyone on the video seemed to be !! Especially this one woman. . man was she 'out there', glassy eyed, twitchy. . *shudder*
Winser Pilates. . .yawn. . oh the bloomin' POWERHOUSE. . powerhouse this and powerhouse that. . engage it, watch it, engage it again. Ms. Winser, she just needed a pointing stick to wrap ppl on their flabby powerhouses. . she constantly prowled amongst the Pilatians. . she never seemed to DO the exercises herself!! The Crunch -they do everything, but meh. . okay. . kind of like the fitness equivalent of cream cheese, kinda bland. . . . Oxycise. . (stretching and deep breathing - I actually do need reminding to breathe deeply!) Tony Little!!!!! talk about FRANTIC!!!!! I always felt like I needed a VALIUM after watching him. Positively hyperkinetic. He always seems dangerously close to having a stroke, with the veins in his neck and forehead bulging as he screams. . ahhhh, give me a break! I don't want more stress when I exercise, I want to banish it!!!
I won't even get into detail with exercise equipment I've bought and sold over the years!!! OI!!! So many things. . . so stupid of me to think that I would stick with them!!! I've sworn off machines all together. .I don't like them at a club, I don't like them in my house. I don't like them with a mouse. I just don't like green eggs and ham! If I can't use my body and maybe just some tubing or barbells, I don't want anything to do with it. After so many zigs and zags along the way I've learned a few important things:
1. I will ALWAYS need to work out. Housework don't cut it, neither does running after kids or working full time, nor does walking the dog. . just ain't gonna do it.
2. Even if you look like you don't need to work out like my girls, they're slim. . ppl say to them "Why do you need to exercise?!!!" EVERYBODY needs to.
3. Your must LOVE what you're doing or you won't keep doing it. And even if you DO love it, there are days when you're not gonna feel like doing it!! But unless you're sick in bed with a dreadful fever, you must! Do it anyway and you won't be sorry.
4. If you fall off the wagon. . . like i've done more times than I would care to confess. . your body will happily get accustomed to the activity again! its a glutton for good treatment. Its too easy to get fat and happy! I know. Gaining weight is too easy. . and if its the result of eating too much of that yummy, delicious food and just sitting on one's heiny its even fun! But once that weight's on there. . man, so NOT fun!!! UGH. Bad. .
5. If you have physical illnesses, limitations, conditions. . . work around them, do what you can, have your physio, take your meds, do an alternate activity that will benefit your body and give your stressed parts the rest they need. No excuses. I've had times when I've been stricken right down and unable to do anything. But I always told myself that I would get back there again.
6. Middle age or grandparenthood, having had children, having arthritis, having a thyroid condition. . all excuses! BAH!! I will not excuse my laziness or my bad choices. . I will own up to them and put them behind me and I will work and not fool myself into thinking that I don't have to keep up that work and diligence. . cuz I know that inside of me is an out of control woman who must be kept in line.
So, back to TJ. . . I haven't called it that yet! first time!! does that mean I'm becoming a veteran?! heh heh. . . Chalene Johnson - creator of TurboJam - she's a little pepmeister, with dimpled cheeks and flaxen locks. . I could just squeeze her she's that adorable!! She doesn't just HAVE a powerhouse, SHE IS ONE!!! well, maybe a powercottage, cuz she's so teeny! Chalene has a martial arts, kickboxing and dance b/g. . so imagine the hybridized fun?! Can you? I find it so appealing. . the punching makes me feel STRONG, especially getting into that horse stance doing the Tae Kwon Do punching and blocking, the Brazilian Capoeira moves are FABULOUS and empowering. . The kicking!!! woah, the kicking - great for getting out that pent up or unused energy or stress. The dancey groove is so great and the music gets in your head! and its good!!! After I'm done. . I go around the house growling: 'I'M GONNA KNOCK YOU OUT. . MOMMA SAYS KNOCK YOU OUT!!' My family isn't impressed. . Chalene's moves are so unique. . fun, HARD! Yep. .I feel bodily different already! I don't think i've ever been this excited about any fitness program in my life! My obliques are solidifying daily, i'm developing lines and contours. . my legs are muscling up from all the dancing and now this. . POW!
Just getting the word out there. . TURBOJAM! The hyperlinks aren't working! WAH!! If you're inclined, you can visit www.beachbody.com and check out Chalene's TJ. . If you like shaking your stuff, punching the air and kicking it too. . .you can be a Jammer!
I have tried sooo many fitness regimens over the years. . you name it!!! Callanetics, ballet muscle work (still love it!), Yoga (been doing that since "Lillias, Yoga and You" in the 70s!!) I have always flirted with dance classes -- back in the 70s at the downtown YW in steeltown, in the 80s when my kiddies were young with the old DanceFit! and now with whatever style captures my fancy. . bellydancing, burlesque!! ooh la la! -no, not the Carmen Electra stuff. . I have the fruity, hippie chicks of "Yoga Booty Ballet"!! What they lack in heat, they make up for in coquettish cuteness! I've done some Brazilian street dance and swing too, though that's hard to learn alone. That's just my dance DVD collection! My heart still belongs to my beloved "Shemotions". .the live experience is the best.
What an amazing group of women! We meet twice a week to bust our moves and we sweat and laugh. AND EVEN MORE EXCITING, I'M DANCING WITH BOTH OF MY DAUGHTERS NOW!!! They're hooked!!! YES!
I have periodically haunted the exclusively women's gyms. . BORING!!! The only things I enjoyed were the live classes with all their energy. . Tina's Jammin' Cardio topping the list. . with all that hip hop and lyrical jazz. .FANTASTIC!!! What else have a tried?! *i get restless* I've tried all the Kathy Smith stuff. . . and she was THE QUEEN for a while. . I don't know what she hasn't done?! maybe spread things a bit thin? I've stepped up and down and sideways and backwards in step classes and at home, I've worked out to "The Firm" with its strength training and cardio intervals. . I've done TV exercise shows: "Charlene Prickett" was one of my faves. . I've done the Jane Fonda tapes, even had the leg warmers! ACK!!! I LOVED trampolining with my mini tramp!!! Its fun, but yeah, its only SO fun jumping up and down once the bombastic thrill wears off. Billy Blanks' Tae Bo. . . FRANTIC and yet so boring. . . wha?! Can frantic BE boring? Yes, it can. blech. . . I always felt when I did Tae Bo like i should have been more caffeinated like everyone on the video seemed to be !! Especially this one woman. . man was she 'out there', glassy eyed, twitchy. . *shudder*
Winser Pilates. . .yawn. . oh the bloomin' POWERHOUSE. . powerhouse this and powerhouse that. . engage it, watch it, engage it again. Ms. Winser, she just needed a pointing stick to wrap ppl on their flabby powerhouses. . she constantly prowled amongst the Pilatians. . she never seemed to DO the exercises herself!! The Crunch -they do everything, but meh. . okay. . kind of like the fitness equivalent of cream cheese, kinda bland. . . . Oxycise. . (stretching and deep breathing - I actually do need reminding to breathe deeply!) Tony Little!!!!! talk about FRANTIC!!!!! I always felt like I needed a VALIUM after watching him. Positively hyperkinetic. He always seems dangerously close to having a stroke, with the veins in his neck and forehead bulging as he screams. . ahhhh, give me a break! I don't want more stress when I exercise, I want to banish it!!!
I won't even get into detail with exercise equipment I've bought and sold over the years!!! OI!!! So many things. . . so stupid of me to think that I would stick with them!!! I've sworn off machines all together. .I don't like them at a club, I don't like them in my house. I don't like them with a mouse. I just don't like green eggs and ham! If I can't use my body and maybe just some tubing or barbells, I don't want anything to do with it. After so many zigs and zags along the way I've learned a few important things:
1. I will ALWAYS need to work out. Housework don't cut it, neither does running after kids or working full time, nor does walking the dog. . just ain't gonna do it.
2. Even if you look like you don't need to work out like my girls, they're slim. . ppl say to them "Why do you need to exercise?!!!" EVERYBODY needs to.
3. Your must LOVE what you're doing or you won't keep doing it. And even if you DO love it, there are days when you're not gonna feel like doing it!! But unless you're sick in bed with a dreadful fever, you must! Do it anyway and you won't be sorry.
4. If you fall off the wagon. . . like i've done more times than I would care to confess. . your body will happily get accustomed to the activity again! its a glutton for good treatment. Its too easy to get fat and happy! I know. Gaining weight is too easy. . and if its the result of eating too much of that yummy, delicious food and just sitting on one's heiny its even fun! But once that weight's on there. . man, so NOT fun!!! UGH. Bad. .
5. If you have physical illnesses, limitations, conditions. . . work around them, do what you can, have your physio, take your meds, do an alternate activity that will benefit your body and give your stressed parts the rest they need. No excuses. I've had times when I've been stricken right down and unable to do anything. But I always told myself that I would get back there again.
6. Middle age or grandparenthood, having had children, having arthritis, having a thyroid condition. . all excuses! BAH!! I will not excuse my laziness or my bad choices. . I will own up to them and put them behind me and I will work and not fool myself into thinking that I don't have to keep up that work and diligence. . cuz I know that inside of me is an out of control woman who must be kept in line.
So, back to TJ. . . I haven't called it that yet! first time!! does that mean I'm becoming a veteran?! heh heh. . . Chalene Johnson - creator of TurboJam - she's a little pepmeister, with dimpled cheeks and flaxen locks. . I could just squeeze her she's that adorable!! She doesn't just HAVE a powerhouse, SHE IS ONE!!! well, maybe a powercottage, cuz she's so teeny! Chalene has a martial arts, kickboxing and dance b/g. . so imagine the hybridized fun?! Can you? I find it so appealing. . the punching makes me feel STRONG, especially getting into that horse stance doing the Tae Kwon Do punching and blocking, the Brazilian Capoeira moves are FABULOUS and empowering. . The kicking!!! woah, the kicking - great for getting out that pent up or unused energy or stress. The dancey groove is so great and the music gets in your head! and its good!!! After I'm done. . I go around the house growling: 'I'M GONNA KNOCK YOU OUT. . MOMMA SAYS KNOCK YOU OUT!!' My family isn't impressed. . Chalene's moves are so unique. . fun, HARD! Yep. .I feel bodily different already! I don't think i've ever been this excited about any fitness program in my life! My obliques are solidifying daily, i'm developing lines and contours. . my legs are muscling up from all the dancing and now this. . POW!
Just getting the word out there. . TURBOJAM! The hyperlinks aren't working! WAH!! If you're inclined, you can visit www.beachbody.com and check out Chalene's TJ. . If you like shaking your stuff, punching the air and kicking it too. . .you can be a Jammer!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
evening is a beautiful time
Right now I'm sitting here beside my sliding door, the inside door is open. I can feel the fresh air on my skin. Its not quite twilight. . ahhhh. . love that time when everything cools off, activity wise and temperature wise too - unless you get one of those close, humid nights that annoy rather than soothe. This is one of those green, soothing times. I'm listening to a cacophony of bird calls right now -- can you hear them?! I swear they're that loud! My neighbourhood is of the older, matured tree variety *i.e. many trees are 75 + years old* -- bird 'condos' all over the place here! Do you ever wonder what the birds are saying to each other? I wonder! I love to hear them, except when I have insomnia and its 3:45 a.m. and they're starting up with their little sing songs and i have yet to sleep a wink!!
The twilight comes like God turning the dimmer switch. The sky darkens incrementally, the glow of sunset plays out on the golden red edges of the horizon as purple night softly settles. I love that God did things like this. . really there was no need for him to make it all beautiful, except that's how He is. If he had been inclined to make the daily/nightly switch abrupt, he could have -- imagine blazing sun. . . BAM!!! inky black sky. . blazing heat -- sudden chill. I love that He's so present in every detail of night fall and sunrise and everything in between. He's not abrupt or clumsy. . He's graceful and adept, masterful.
I see the clouds through the screen. . greyish violet, billowing, thick. . Doesn't it look so much like you could grab them? don't they look substantive? Puffs of gas. . majestic and protective, shifting, sheltering. The air smells wet and life giving. It feels dense and pleasingly cool.
The birds are still clucking, and peeping. . but they're quieting. Stillness hangs. . breezeless calm, interrupted only by intermittent traffic noise. Moon and stars have yet to come into view. It won't be long. Have you ever owned a Lite Brite on which you've made pictures with rainbow-coloured plastic pegs over the dark-papered light box? Have you then pulled out all the coloured plastic pegs and looked at the white light glowing through the holy black paper? This is the night sky! Yes? (just different pictures - no clowns or ice cream cones)
I just wandered out bare foot into the yard, the grass feels lush and damp. I padded down the grassy hill, through the gate and stood on the sidewalk. I wanted to get a better look at the sky. As I turned my gaze I was greeted by the beaming full moon. . . Oh, its so gorgeous. What is it that so captures us when we see it? Is it the knowledge of its foreverness on display every night? Its mystique? its membership in 'club universe'? If we explain the light refraction from a ball of gas and fire onto a rocky orb, doesn't sound so lovely. And yes, technically speaking, its precisely that. . but it is lovely and serene. I love the romanticized way we view it.
The birds have ceased. The night has fallen, tucking everything in its big, dark blanket. All is perfectly quiet for a moment, save for the remote, distorted echo of a passing freight train with its mournful, off-key whistle. The corner streetlight's golden halo mesmerizes a frantic cloud of insects. Crickets chirp in harmony. I am quiet, observing, participating. The moon peers through the high branches of the maple tree. I take a draft of night air into my lungs, hold it and exhale slowly. . . ahhhhhhhhh. . .
The twilight comes like God turning the dimmer switch. The sky darkens incrementally, the glow of sunset plays out on the golden red edges of the horizon as purple night softly settles. I love that God did things like this. . really there was no need for him to make it all beautiful, except that's how He is. If he had been inclined to make the daily/nightly switch abrupt, he could have -- imagine blazing sun. . . BAM!!! inky black sky. . blazing heat -- sudden chill. I love that He's so present in every detail of night fall and sunrise and everything in between. He's not abrupt or clumsy. . He's graceful and adept, masterful.
I see the clouds through the screen. . greyish violet, billowing, thick. . Doesn't it look so much like you could grab them? don't they look substantive? Puffs of gas. . majestic and protective, shifting, sheltering. The air smells wet and life giving. It feels dense and pleasingly cool.
The birds are still clucking, and peeping. . but they're quieting. Stillness hangs. . breezeless calm, interrupted only by intermittent traffic noise. Moon and stars have yet to come into view. It won't be long. Have you ever owned a Lite Brite on which you've made pictures with rainbow-coloured plastic pegs over the dark-papered light box? Have you then pulled out all the coloured plastic pegs and looked at the white light glowing through the holy black paper? This is the night sky! Yes? (just different pictures - no clowns or ice cream cones)
I just wandered out bare foot into the yard, the grass feels lush and damp. I padded down the grassy hill, through the gate and stood on the sidewalk. I wanted to get a better look at the sky. As I turned my gaze I was greeted by the beaming full moon. . . Oh, its so gorgeous. What is it that so captures us when we see it? Is it the knowledge of its foreverness on display every night? Its mystique? its membership in 'club universe'? If we explain the light refraction from a ball of gas and fire onto a rocky orb, doesn't sound so lovely. And yes, technically speaking, its precisely that. . but it is lovely and serene. I love the romanticized way we view it.
The birds have ceased. The night has fallen, tucking everything in its big, dark blanket. All is perfectly quiet for a moment, save for the remote, distorted echo of a passing freight train with its mournful, off-key whistle. The corner streetlight's golden halo mesmerizes a frantic cloud of insects. Crickets chirp in harmony. I am quiet, observing, participating. The moon peers through the high branches of the maple tree. I take a draft of night air into my lungs, hold it and exhale slowly. . . ahhhhhhhhh. . .
Saturday, June 03, 2006
this woman's mind
Ever get so many thoughts zinging through your mind that you just want to blow a whistle to give them all a time out?! I do believe its a gender thing. Every woman i know is the same -- thinking, thinking all the time, often being kept awake by their overactive brains. Rob and I once watched a documentary on the brain. It was fascinating. Okay, this is a bit of a tangent, but its related, so please indulge me?! When Rob and I watch tv he's alert with regular programming, but man, you sit that man down to view a documentary. . . he checks right out. I watch him, which annoys him greatly, but i get a kick out of it! watching his head bob or snap back when he feels himself nodding off. HA!!! Before i know it, his mouth is wide open and his head's on his chest. I'm chuckling right now just thinking about it! In this documentary we were shown comparative CT scans of women's and men's brains - at rest and active. You know those scans where red, orange and yellow are 'hot' colours which indicate activity and blues and greens conversely are cool colours which signal lessened activity? The woman's AT REST brain was 50% MORE ACTIVE than the man's ACTIVE brain!!!!! When I saw that my whole life suddenly made sense!!! I finally knew why I was the way i was!!! *Of course I gloated for all womankind -- YEAH! FOR THE SISTERHOOD OF SUPERACTIVE BRAINS!!!* Rob good naturedly, as usual, endured my Ms. Superior pants attitude with great masculine grace. What else could he do when faced with scientific proof?!
I may have these supercharged neurons firing like there's no tomorrow within the lobes of my brain, but so what? I can't lie my head down on the pillow, shut my eyes and be gone like he can! So, its a rather hollow victory. More like a curse!! My thoughts are sometimes like crazy, sugar-high children running amok in the corridors of my mind. They're bumping into each other and trying to beat each other out for attention. I find they're at their most unruly when I'm trying to rest or pray or meditate. At other times i picture them as if they're students sitting at desks wanting the teacher to pick them. .You remember school with those kids? or maybe you've been one of those kids?! Shooting their arm up and supporting it with the other arm, waving it, bouncing in their seat, saying 'OOOH, OOOH, PICK ME!!!!'So desperate to be heard!!! Yep, my thoughts are like an entire classroom of those little buggers.
One of my thoughts tonight as i listened to a very cool CD, (Wide Eyed and Mystified by downhere) *sorry, i tried to create a link, but naturally it didn't work!! grrr!*
while Rob watched Detroit vs Toronto in baseball was, admittedly, a jealous towards men thought. I'm watching these men run around and swing pieces of wood and knock around this little ball (can you tell i'm not a fan?!)I'm thinking: "Imagine if a stadium full of people watched me work and cheered when I spelled a complicated word?" It was a ludicrous thought. . but it amused me. I imagined them doing the wave when I was able to properly hear a technical phrase from a difficult to understand accent. I have a really background kind of job, you know. . .it pays the mortgage. sigh. . .Sometimes i think that a career making dog biscuits would be more exciting. I also thought of my friends in this cool band (see above)*since I was listening to them!* They do their job to applause and screams and 'woohs' (I know that's not why they do what they do - but its probably nice!). . and the juxtaposition of that kind of public feedback for people doing public jobs; applying it to my beige job, well it was just silly but you can be guaranteed that next Tuesday morning when i get my headset on and i sit at my computer and start listening to droning doctors and start dealing with calculated aortic valve area values and the intricacies of the heart's structure and spelling impossibly long latin names for muscles, some of which I have to look up every flippin time. . I'm gonna be laughing most likely out loud at the thought of thousands of ppl cheering my performance!! BAH! AS IF!!! Whatever gets you through the day?! Geez. . Jon Lovitz gets paid God knows how much money to do those HILARIOUS Subway commercials. . Every time I see those things I laugh loudly! Nobody laughs when I work!!! WAHHH!!!! No, I don't want any cheese with my whine. . though my dog would probably love to have some!
So, while I'm listening to music and keeping half an eye on the ball game, I'm thinking of so much more -- The song "Stir" comes on and though its a cool song about stirring and being stirred in the best, most spiritual sense, every time i heard the word 'stir' all i could think of was cooking and a pot of something on the stove. . and i felt bad for thinking of cooking when I should have been thinking of the beauty of the message - but i kinda laughed at the way my mind works. . Its as if every single word or image is a trigger and all day long my thoughts are itching to be triggered. .and yeah, they're constantly being triggered POP, POP, POP! If you could see inside my head when i'm on the job, I don't even know how i do it. . I work my brain hard with the job lingo and the million and one things we have to remember technically and procedurally and i make myself crazy with all of it sometimes, yet its like i can assign the hard work to one part of 'the class' and the other part of the class is out of their desks, running around, chalking all over the board, climbing onto desktops and jumping off, rolling the trashcan around, getting each other in half nelsons, screaming, throwing spit balls and singing "this is the song that never ends"! I give myself mental fatigue. . oh, i wish I was a man!!!! . . a baseball player, Jon Lovitz, a rock star, Rob . . . Don't tell, but I would gladly trade my womanly cranium for a day, maybe a week or two, just to get some peace. Did i just say that? oh my. . .
I may have these supercharged neurons firing like there's no tomorrow within the lobes of my brain, but so what? I can't lie my head down on the pillow, shut my eyes and be gone like he can! So, its a rather hollow victory. More like a curse!! My thoughts are sometimes like crazy, sugar-high children running amok in the corridors of my mind. They're bumping into each other and trying to beat each other out for attention. I find they're at their most unruly when I'm trying to rest or pray or meditate. At other times i picture them as if they're students sitting at desks wanting the teacher to pick them. .You remember school with those kids? or maybe you've been one of those kids?! Shooting their arm up and supporting it with the other arm, waving it, bouncing in their seat, saying 'OOOH, OOOH, PICK ME!!!!'So desperate to be heard!!! Yep, my thoughts are like an entire classroom of those little buggers.
One of my thoughts tonight as i listened to a very cool CD, (Wide Eyed and Mystified by downhere) *sorry, i tried to create a link, but naturally it didn't work!! grrr!*
while Rob watched Detroit vs Toronto in baseball was, admittedly, a jealous towards men thought. I'm watching these men run around and swing pieces of wood and knock around this little ball (can you tell i'm not a fan?!)I'm thinking: "Imagine if a stadium full of people watched me work and cheered when I spelled a complicated word?" It was a ludicrous thought. . but it amused me. I imagined them doing the wave when I was able to properly hear a technical phrase from a difficult to understand accent. I have a really background kind of job, you know. . .it pays the mortgage. sigh. . .Sometimes i think that a career making dog biscuits would be more exciting. I also thought of my friends in this cool band (see above)*since I was listening to them!* They do their job to applause and screams and 'woohs' (I know that's not why they do what they do - but its probably nice!). . and the juxtaposition of that kind of public feedback for people doing public jobs; applying it to my beige job, well it was just silly but you can be guaranteed that next Tuesday morning when i get my headset on and i sit at my computer and start listening to droning doctors and start dealing with calculated aortic valve area values and the intricacies of the heart's structure and spelling impossibly long latin names for muscles, some of which I have to look up every flippin time. . I'm gonna be laughing most likely out loud at the thought of thousands of ppl cheering my performance!! BAH! AS IF!!! Whatever gets you through the day?! Geez. . Jon Lovitz gets paid God knows how much money to do those HILARIOUS Subway commercials. . Every time I see those things I laugh loudly! Nobody laughs when I work!!! WAHHH!!!! No, I don't want any cheese with my whine. . though my dog would probably love to have some!
So, while I'm listening to music and keeping half an eye on the ball game, I'm thinking of so much more -- The song "Stir" comes on and though its a cool song about stirring and being stirred in the best, most spiritual sense, every time i heard the word 'stir' all i could think of was cooking and a pot of something on the stove. . and i felt bad for thinking of cooking when I should have been thinking of the beauty of the message - but i kinda laughed at the way my mind works. . Its as if every single word or image is a trigger and all day long my thoughts are itching to be triggered. .and yeah, they're constantly being triggered POP, POP, POP! If you could see inside my head when i'm on the job, I don't even know how i do it. . I work my brain hard with the job lingo and the million and one things we have to remember technically and procedurally and i make myself crazy with all of it sometimes, yet its like i can assign the hard work to one part of 'the class' and the other part of the class is out of their desks, running around, chalking all over the board, climbing onto desktops and jumping off, rolling the trashcan around, getting each other in half nelsons, screaming, throwing spit balls and singing "this is the song that never ends"! I give myself mental fatigue. . oh, i wish I was a man!!!! . . a baseball player, Jon Lovitz, a rock star, Rob . . . Don't tell, but I would gladly trade my womanly cranium for a day, maybe a week or two, just to get some peace. Did i just say that? oh my. . .
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
so slack. . i know!
hi ya!!! How are you all? My apologies for not writing sooner. I seem to go in fits and starts. I'm so T I R E D . . . blah. . . Work today was hard. . i was 'in house' today. . as the hospital-wide computer module i usually tie into was down all day for an upgrade. So, I was filing in the muggy 'corporate storage' dungeon. . I have SO MUCH respect for the girls who do this on a regular basis. It is physical work! Lots of lifting of heavy piles of charts, bending to reach the lowest file banks, pulling out tightly wedged ones and shoving them back in. It was really nice to work with my co workers in person!!!We usually just share a cyber connection - occasionally seeing other at staff meetings and the office brunches. We had a great lunch feast today, courtesy of our boss. So nice. It was equally nice to share a table with everyone! We had one of the private anterooms reserved for us. After lunch I saw my friend Karen's Dominican vac pictures! I saw my friend Peta, who looks like a million bucks despite battling cancer. . she came in to visit us after one of her treatments. Man, today I felt like a troll that was let out from under the bridge! REAL PEOPLE!!!! Working from home is a tough gig. It has its good points. Sure if i wanted to i could sit in my PJs and work like that all day. Yes, its true that I don't fight traffic. On the yuckiest days I'm safe and cosy in my house. No, I don't have to do my hair. Yes, I can sleep till the last minute and then just turn on the computer and 'go to work'. . but it gets lonely really quickly and I REALLY hate that. So it was such a treat to go in today. . I felt so connected.
I danced my *** off tonight!!! POW!! Last evening of the spring session! Monday is our early summer session. I have that song "All She Wants to Do Is Dance" in my head. . and yes, its true -- all i want to do fitness wise anyway is DANCE. . I still can't believe how incredibly enamoured I am with it! All the steps, all the moves. I love the stretching. The mind/body connection is so cool. Dancing isn't just about muscles moving, its about feeling and learning new ways to move yourself in your emotions as well. Remembering the patterns, sequences, keeping count, learning technique, honing it twice a week, every week - it amazes me how it all meshes and synchronizes. The comraderie is unique. Everyone learning and improving together, surprising each other with how we can master even the toughest routines. Going from awkward, tentative beginnings to fluid, precise endings. I will be forever blissfully happy if I can do this for the next ??? years with all my new friends. . what an amazing group of women they are!!! I'm especially excited to be bringing my 2 daughters to the June session!!!! They're really jazzed. . me too!!! I hope that they love it as much as i do?!
Well, its late. . Rob's got a movie still for us to watch. . I'm gonna be up a long time - i may miss some of it?!!! zzzzzzzzzzz. . . . The movie was "New World" with Colin Farrell -- i didn't miss any of it. . really enjoyed it - a bit 'artsy'. . the cinematography was luscious. I didn't catch the credits, so I'm not sure who was responsible for that; superb work.
I danced my *** off tonight!!! POW!! Last evening of the spring session! Monday is our early summer session. I have that song "All She Wants to Do Is Dance" in my head. . and yes, its true -- all i want to do fitness wise anyway is DANCE. . I still can't believe how incredibly enamoured I am with it! All the steps, all the moves. I love the stretching. The mind/body connection is so cool. Dancing isn't just about muscles moving, its about feeling and learning new ways to move yourself in your emotions as well. Remembering the patterns, sequences, keeping count, learning technique, honing it twice a week, every week - it amazes me how it all meshes and synchronizes. The comraderie is unique. Everyone learning and improving together, surprising each other with how we can master even the toughest routines. Going from awkward, tentative beginnings to fluid, precise endings. I will be forever blissfully happy if I can do this for the next ??? years with all my new friends. . what an amazing group of women they are!!! I'm especially excited to be bringing my 2 daughters to the June session!!!! They're really jazzed. . me too!!! I hope that they love it as much as i do?!
Well, its late. . Rob's got a movie still for us to watch. . I'm gonna be up a long time - i may miss some of it?!!! zzzzzzzzzzz. . . . The movie was "New World" with Colin Farrell -- i didn't miss any of it. . really enjoyed it - a bit 'artsy'. . the cinematography was luscious. I didn't catch the credits, so I'm not sure who was responsible for that; superb work.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Dear God,
I want to be open, but i keep closing off.
You must get fed up with me?
I get fed up with me.
Sometimes my heart feels so much - much love for others, sympathy, compassion.
I feel so much love for you, so much awe when i think of and see the evidences of you all around me. . so glorious.
We both know that I hide from you sometimes -
maybe just fearful of what you may ask of me, complete submission to your will
i hide because i misunderstand you,
fearing my loss of control.
Why won't i trust you?
Why?
I know there is no better way. .
yet i find periodically find myself in this hinterland of doubt.
I feel my spirit's potential sometimes - in waves that break over me
still i struggle to surface - afraid of the deep.
Do I have a mental blockage?
Is it my emotional lability?
Physical interference?
I'm so easily waylaid by circumstance,
so easily cooled off
so easily put off.
You are a tenacious one.
I admire you so much
but admiration is not what you want from me
you want it all --
my all.
There have been so many times when I have disbelieved . .
I have not been able to believe that you, GOD are interested in me, kathy.
I've told myself that you don't care overly much,
or i've told myself that I'm not worth much -- a conflicted, complaining bundle of trouble. . .
just one more heart to feed,
one more soul to discipline
one more spirit to resuscitate.
I don't feel worth the trouble. .
People say that because you're God you don't need us,
maybe you don't?
But you do love us. . isn't there need in love?
People say you can't become disillusioned with us, because you don't have illusions - but do you feel disappointment when I miss the obvious over and over and over?
Someone once said to me that you don't have any emotions because you're God and you're above all that. . . I guess they didn't read my Bible - your heart isn't on your sleeve, its in those pages.
People, well they may not always be right, but they're just trying to make sense of it all.
Your love is mysterious, just like everything about you -- your appearance, your 'age', your mind, motives, reasons, your 3-in-1-ness, your power, your Heaven, your judgement. .
I love a good mystery - but i like to be able to figure it out. . . I've given myself a headache when i've tried to 'solve' you.
When I've lulled myself with the surface ways - waded around in the shallows of human existence, i've been all body, emotions, whims and wants - carefully avoiding the call of the deep. . . your voice, your path. . .but you beckon and you instill in me a desire to leave the shallow end and to plunge and be okay with being over my head. I want to be okay, but i'm afraid i'll lose 'me'. . but would i not then be a much improved me? do i trust you?
I want to listen to you.
I'm desperate to dialogue with you - not just whenever i'm seized with the notion, but continually.
I know you're always calling out to me . .you're not the giving up type. . how beautiful can you possibly be? It means the world to me that you won't give up - even though i've given you plenty of what most would consider just cause.
Help me to persistently practice recognizing the sound of your voice.
There's a lot of noise 'out there'.
I often feel like a child with ADHD. . .
I really need you. . back and forth - up and down, its just so tiring. .
You must get fed up with me?
I get fed up with me.
Sometimes my heart feels so much - much love for others, sympathy, compassion.
I feel so much love for you, so much awe when i think of and see the evidences of you all around me. . so glorious.
We both know that I hide from you sometimes -
maybe just fearful of what you may ask of me, complete submission to your will
i hide because i misunderstand you,
fearing my loss of control.
Why won't i trust you?
Why?
I know there is no better way. .
yet i find periodically find myself in this hinterland of doubt.
I feel my spirit's potential sometimes - in waves that break over me
still i struggle to surface - afraid of the deep.
Do I have a mental blockage?
Is it my emotional lability?
Physical interference?
I'm so easily waylaid by circumstance,
so easily cooled off
so easily put off.
You are a tenacious one.
I admire you so much
but admiration is not what you want from me
you want it all --
my all.
There have been so many times when I have disbelieved . .
I have not been able to believe that you, GOD are interested in me, kathy.
I've told myself that you don't care overly much,
or i've told myself that I'm not worth much -- a conflicted, complaining bundle of trouble. . .
just one more heart to feed,
one more soul to discipline
one more spirit to resuscitate.
I don't feel worth the trouble. .
People say that because you're God you don't need us,
maybe you don't?
But you do love us. . isn't there need in love?
People say you can't become disillusioned with us, because you don't have illusions - but do you feel disappointment when I miss the obvious over and over and over?
Someone once said to me that you don't have any emotions because you're God and you're above all that. . . I guess they didn't read my Bible - your heart isn't on your sleeve, its in those pages.
People, well they may not always be right, but they're just trying to make sense of it all.
Your love is mysterious, just like everything about you -- your appearance, your 'age', your mind, motives, reasons, your 3-in-1-ness, your power, your Heaven, your judgement. .
I love a good mystery - but i like to be able to figure it out. . . I've given myself a headache when i've tried to 'solve' you.
When I've lulled myself with the surface ways - waded around in the shallows of human existence, i've been all body, emotions, whims and wants - carefully avoiding the call of the deep. . . your voice, your path. . .but you beckon and you instill in me a desire to leave the shallow end and to plunge and be okay with being over my head. I want to be okay, but i'm afraid i'll lose 'me'. . but would i not then be a much improved me? do i trust you?
I want to listen to you.
I'm desperate to dialogue with you - not just whenever i'm seized with the notion, but continually.
I know you're always calling out to me . .you're not the giving up type. . how beautiful can you possibly be? It means the world to me that you won't give up - even though i've given you plenty of what most would consider just cause.
Help me to persistently practice recognizing the sound of your voice.
There's a lot of noise 'out there'.
I often feel like a child with ADHD. . .
I really need you. . back and forth - up and down, its just so tiring. .
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
craving simple
There's something so beautiful about simplicity.
I especially notice this when things are complicated. Take a day -- you wake up, simple -- then everything after that gets away from you. Depending on what's happening, your day can pick up speed like a runaway train with no brakes!! You almost can't wait to crash, cuz at least then you'll be able to stop!!
Sometimes there are different ways to get crazed, which don't necessarily involve speed so much as feeling like you're covered in superglue and everything is sticking to you and you keep picking up more and more layers as you go along, bogging you down, slowing you down.
Other days its like you have amnesia and you simply forget simple and you make everything 50 x harder than it has to be, frustrating yourself, others and piling more and more 'argh' onto what could have been 'aaaah'. You can suffocate yourself with it and not realize until you can't stop sighing out your tension, or feel those muscles clenching in response to your rising stress levels and it dawns on you that you've let go of easy and swapped it out for difficult.
When I start longing, then i start listening, listening to my common sense, which I admit I sorely neglect sometimes. Do you know what i mean? Like its saying to me "HEY! HEY!!! I'm here. Hello?! Why not keep it simple?" Complexity even seeps into my dreams in the form of anxiety, struggling, frustration. Talk about wake up calls! No pun intended. When my dreams are stressful, i know i've got a problem.
When I start feeling like i've got to daydream of a simple ice cream scooping job in order to be able to live with neverending production deadlines, endless stat requests, pressures to churn out complicated volumes with perfection and accuracy. . i find myself longing to bake cranberry scones and brew tea for wonderful imaginary customers. Sometimes i long to hula hoop with my laughing grandchildren in the green of my backyard in the middle of a work day just because i feel like it! Other times its not even daydreaming, but just finding that I not only long to pare my life down but I need to. Pare down all the stuff that's in my house. Use up all the food in the fridge and not waste or throw it out. Not have 5 bottles of hair products in the shower, but just one. Pare down so that I'm only reading 1 book at a time. Pare it all down -- why do i tend to fill up every night of the week? Why not just have one night without a plan? Why do I need to hang onto things i don't use? Why not pare down my thoughts, so I can cope with the multitude of them and have some peace in my noggin - especially at night when i'm trying to sleep. Multitasking!!!!??? Who says this is a good thing?! Half of society does! Women pride themselves on it. Why?!!! Why be so proud about building on layers of cloying responsibility? Why can't I be like my husband who does one thing, does it well and then moves on?! Simple.
Kids are simple. They aren't sophisticated. They don't strive to be a certain way, they're just themselves. I love that. It doesn't take much to impress them. I love that about them too. They laugh easily. They cry the same way. They smile. They dance as soon as they hear music. Kids speak the truth. I'm on my second 'go around' with little children in my life - grandchildren. I love what they teach me, cuz when my daughters were little i may have learned the same things from them; but it seems that i've forgotten and as they grew and became more sophisticated and adult, i became re-complicated again!! The kiddies make me forget everything . . and i just play or read them a story, throw a blanket over myself and 'wooh' like a ghost or cuddle a spike-haired baby doll in a facecloth 'bunting bag' and plant a kiss on its fabric cheek; all of which delight James and Erica to no end and teach me to relax.
My dog reminds me of simple. Sometimes i envy her!!! All she ever has to do is eat, drink, go for lovely walks, run around in the yard chasing squirrels and chipmunks, sniff fire hydrants, get held like a baby and petted and coochie cooed, lay around all day and all night, get treats, steal food from the kiddies' plates and crawl under our bed to hide when all of this gets to be too much for her. Yes, I'm jealous!!!
Well, its now become the simpler time of day. . ahhhhh. . . gotta breathe that in and store enough up to get me through tomorrow!!!! and the next day and the next. . . I have one word cross-stitched onto fabric, in a wooden frame -- it sits on top of my fridge and speaks to me every day -- i think maybe i need one in every room of my house and in both of my cars. . .
the word is "simplify"
I especially notice this when things are complicated. Take a day -- you wake up, simple -- then everything after that gets away from you. Depending on what's happening, your day can pick up speed like a runaway train with no brakes!! You almost can't wait to crash, cuz at least then you'll be able to stop!!
Sometimes there are different ways to get crazed, which don't necessarily involve speed so much as feeling like you're covered in superglue and everything is sticking to you and you keep picking up more and more layers as you go along, bogging you down, slowing you down.
Other days its like you have amnesia and you simply forget simple and you make everything 50 x harder than it has to be, frustrating yourself, others and piling more and more 'argh' onto what could have been 'aaaah'. You can suffocate yourself with it and not realize until you can't stop sighing out your tension, or feel those muscles clenching in response to your rising stress levels and it dawns on you that you've let go of easy and swapped it out for difficult.
When I start longing, then i start listening, listening to my common sense, which I admit I sorely neglect sometimes. Do you know what i mean? Like its saying to me "HEY! HEY!!! I'm here. Hello?! Why not keep it simple?" Complexity even seeps into my dreams in the form of anxiety, struggling, frustration. Talk about wake up calls! No pun intended. When my dreams are stressful, i know i've got a problem.
When I start feeling like i've got to daydream of a simple ice cream scooping job in order to be able to live with neverending production deadlines, endless stat requests, pressures to churn out complicated volumes with perfection and accuracy. . i find myself longing to bake cranberry scones and brew tea for wonderful imaginary customers. Sometimes i long to hula hoop with my laughing grandchildren in the green of my backyard in the middle of a work day just because i feel like it! Other times its not even daydreaming, but just finding that I not only long to pare my life down but I need to. Pare down all the stuff that's in my house. Use up all the food in the fridge and not waste or throw it out. Not have 5 bottles of hair products in the shower, but just one. Pare down so that I'm only reading 1 book at a time. Pare it all down -- why do i tend to fill up every night of the week? Why not just have one night without a plan? Why do I need to hang onto things i don't use? Why not pare down my thoughts, so I can cope with the multitude of them and have some peace in my noggin - especially at night when i'm trying to sleep. Multitasking!!!!??? Who says this is a good thing?! Half of society does! Women pride themselves on it. Why?!!! Why be so proud about building on layers of cloying responsibility? Why can't I be like my husband who does one thing, does it well and then moves on?! Simple.
Kids are simple. They aren't sophisticated. They don't strive to be a certain way, they're just themselves. I love that. It doesn't take much to impress them. I love that about them too. They laugh easily. They cry the same way. They smile. They dance as soon as they hear music. Kids speak the truth. I'm on my second 'go around' with little children in my life - grandchildren. I love what they teach me, cuz when my daughters were little i may have learned the same things from them; but it seems that i've forgotten and as they grew and became more sophisticated and adult, i became re-complicated again!! The kiddies make me forget everything . . and i just play or read them a story, throw a blanket over myself and 'wooh' like a ghost or cuddle a spike-haired baby doll in a facecloth 'bunting bag' and plant a kiss on its fabric cheek; all of which delight James and Erica to no end and teach me to relax.
My dog reminds me of simple. Sometimes i envy her!!! All she ever has to do is eat, drink, go for lovely walks, run around in the yard chasing squirrels and chipmunks, sniff fire hydrants, get held like a baby and petted and coochie cooed, lay around all day and all night, get treats, steal food from the kiddies' plates and crawl under our bed to hide when all of this gets to be too much for her. Yes, I'm jealous!!!
Well, its now become the simpler time of day. . ahhhhh. . . gotta breathe that in and store enough up to get me through tomorrow!!!! and the next day and the next. . . I have one word cross-stitched onto fabric, in a wooden frame -- it sits on top of my fridge and speaks to me every day -- i think maybe i need one in every room of my house and in both of my cars. . .
the word is "simplify"
Saturday, May 06, 2006
1/4 century
This is me and Robbie. . its a picture from last year, but I don't have a non-Mexico couple picture of us this year!!! I think we look pretty much the same?!
On Tuesday past we celebrated our 25th anniversary. It was a work day, so not too thrilling. . but we went to the Keg. . and had a great dinner. Even nicer was a discount on our bill and a free anniversary piece of ice cream cake *with a sparkler!!* The manager is a friend of our daughter's b/f, Joel.
We kept saying to each other: "Can you believe we've been married 25 years?!!!"
We did some reminiscing. It was pretty low key. After our vacation, this was just a date! That was really the special thing. . our second honeymoon!! awwww!
Wow, can you tell I'm tired? I'm gonna sign off now.
Just thought I'd share our special occasion with you!
Monday, May 01, 2006
ever feel. . .
Do you ever feel like this world is full of people going around just looking for others whom they can trust with their stories? their experiences? I feel like this. I think everyone walks around like this, testing others, gauging from their reactions and responses whether or not they will go beyond greetings and talk about more than sports or weather to begin to build some kind of framework of trust and security, where their real selves would risk making an appearance. I think people want others to have time for them, to make time for them. I think people want others who will look at them and see them and love them. I struggle -- do you? i struggle on both ends of it. . . i get wrapped up, involved, i'm busy, unavailable. . . others are the same way. . always running on parallel courses, never intersecting - or crossing for the briefest of times in sadly superficial ways. Do you know what I mean?
Sometimes i'm not busy, i'm undone, afraid to be involved, strangely fragile for such a tough dame - and I'm guessing that everyone else has their own moments too. I don't usually confess this to anyone but my best friend/husband. He knows me and i know him. This is somehow easy, I guess because it feels so anonymous.
Its so easy to see buildings and work at jobs and drive in vehicles and purchase items and pursue goals and dream dreams, but its similarly easy to let relationships become overlooked and undernurtured, like a beautiful garden gone to seed, dry, neglected and wilted. Its even easier not to plant at all. Isn't that just so true?
Then you can expand your thoughts outside your own circles to consider that there are many circles besides your own. It feels like I'm more often colliding with people than relating, it really does. . like we're all just kind of ricocheting off each other. . sometimes these collisions will leave a bruise, other times barely a scratch, maybe fleetingly pleasant, maybe not. . It feels weird - even this feels weird. . as somehow it passes for conversation, though its just a solitary picture with me in the dark at my computer and you reading my cooled off words. .
Do you ever feel when you drive around or walk around and see people, people everywhere and you wonder: "What's their story? What have they been through?" I'm sometimes acutely aware of living in a city with house after house after building after building full of people, people and more people and I wonder how they're feeling, does someone listen to them? does someone love them? are they angry? do they feel alone? Did someone abandon them?
I don't even know why these thoughts are in my head now. . maybe they just are and that's good enough reason. Sometimes i write stuff in this blog, pour it out of my heart, then delete it all. Do you ever do that? I do that when i comment on others' blogs - i think i'll put it out there, then I get scared and make it go away. I hope that I can understand how important it is for me to be someone worthy of trust and someone loving enough who will care to listen to the things that other people say, and even more to the things they might not.
Sometimes i'm not busy, i'm undone, afraid to be involved, strangely fragile for such a tough dame - and I'm guessing that everyone else has their own moments too. I don't usually confess this to anyone but my best friend/husband. He knows me and i know him. This is somehow easy, I guess because it feels so anonymous.
Its so easy to see buildings and work at jobs and drive in vehicles and purchase items and pursue goals and dream dreams, but its similarly easy to let relationships become overlooked and undernurtured, like a beautiful garden gone to seed, dry, neglected and wilted. Its even easier not to plant at all. Isn't that just so true?
Then you can expand your thoughts outside your own circles to consider that there are many circles besides your own. It feels like I'm more often colliding with people than relating, it really does. . like we're all just kind of ricocheting off each other. . sometimes these collisions will leave a bruise, other times barely a scratch, maybe fleetingly pleasant, maybe not. . It feels weird - even this feels weird. . as somehow it passes for conversation, though its just a solitary picture with me in the dark at my computer and you reading my cooled off words. .
Do you ever feel when you drive around or walk around and see people, people everywhere and you wonder: "What's their story? What have they been through?" I'm sometimes acutely aware of living in a city with house after house after building after building full of people, people and more people and I wonder how they're feeling, does someone listen to them? does someone love them? are they angry? do they feel alone? Did someone abandon them?
I don't even know why these thoughts are in my head now. . maybe they just are and that's good enough reason. Sometimes i write stuff in this blog, pour it out of my heart, then delete it all. Do you ever do that? I do that when i comment on others' blogs - i think i'll put it out there, then I get scared and make it go away. I hope that I can understand how important it is for me to be someone worthy of trust and someone loving enough who will care to listen to the things that other people say, and even more to the things they might not.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
joyous feeling - you know? LIFE!
What's not to love about a day that begins with sleeping in?!!! I'm of two minds when it comes to sleeping in. . . my first mind nags like this: "Oh, what a waste of time! Think of all the things you could have done." My second mind thinks like this: "AHHHHH! That was great!!! No work, no 'should' or 'have to' just 'want to'! Freedom!!" So, guess which mind won the battle this a.m.??? You guessed it. . . mind #2!!!!! WOOOH!
Do you have those days where you feel just generally glad about things? I had one today. . it was so releasing, i felt released from the work grind, i felt released from the structure of the Monday - Friday routine. Saturdays, for me, always feel so promising - hours of time to walk, read, visit the market, shop, get things done around the house, see my grandchildren, my daughters, spend more time with Rob, see a movie, cook the way i like to when i have time, bake the same way, travel around the region. I don't always get all those things done in one Saturday, but I appreciate the chance to pack as much as possible in!!!Spring has got me itching to change things around. . i have so many ideas, its time to get to work on them. We have our anniversary coming up May 2. . married for 25 years - neither one of us can believe it. . together now for a total of 29 years. Great years.. absolutely great!
Today was a belated birthday celebration for Mom, who's been so busy, this was the first chance we had to mark her special day! I planned the menu earlier in the week. . roast beef, yorkshire pudding, gravy, steamed broccoli, corn, mashed potatoes. Rob shopped for the food today while I got started on the desserts, which are always done first. . Carrot cake cupcakes - made with fresh ginger, real maple syrup, pineapple and spices, cream cheese icing, topped with fresh strawberry slices -- chocolate-topped coconut/condensed milk squares and fresh strawberries. . I had a blast!!! I love any chance to get busy in the kitchen -- its one of my favourite ways to be good to those I love.
We had a great meal together, after which we enjoyed a trip to the park - the kids slid and ran around and swung and saw the deer and the birds, the ducks and geese. Lindsay and the kids went on their way home. KK, Rob, Mom and i enjoyed a drive in the country - saw the cows and horses, even a couple of wild turkeys!! took a rollercoastery side road and screamed like we were on a ride at Wonderland!! Capped the trip off with a stop at Timmie's for drinks, then dropped Mom off and headed home. Rob and I went for a walk, then watched CSI taped from Thursday!!! and THEN saw "Tristan and Isolde". .
Its late now, i'm gonna close. Rob's playing guitar downstairs, I love when he does that. . I love living in a music house. . what's not to love about staying up till 2 a.m.?! squeeze every bit outta the one day and bite into the next one! heh heh. . . I'm an incurable nighthawk. I may just sleep in this morning. .
Do you have those days where you feel just generally glad about things? I had one today. . it was so releasing, i felt released from the work grind, i felt released from the structure of the Monday - Friday routine. Saturdays, for me, always feel so promising - hours of time to walk, read, visit the market, shop, get things done around the house, see my grandchildren, my daughters, spend more time with Rob, see a movie, cook the way i like to when i have time, bake the same way, travel around the region. I don't always get all those things done in one Saturday, but I appreciate the chance to pack as much as possible in!!!Spring has got me itching to change things around. . i have so many ideas, its time to get to work on them. We have our anniversary coming up May 2. . married for 25 years - neither one of us can believe it. . together now for a total of 29 years. Great years.. absolutely great!
Today was a belated birthday celebration for Mom, who's been so busy, this was the first chance we had to mark her special day! I planned the menu earlier in the week. . roast beef, yorkshire pudding, gravy, steamed broccoli, corn, mashed potatoes. Rob shopped for the food today while I got started on the desserts, which are always done first. . Carrot cake cupcakes - made with fresh ginger, real maple syrup, pineapple and spices, cream cheese icing, topped with fresh strawberry slices -- chocolate-topped coconut/condensed milk squares and fresh strawberries. . I had a blast!!! I love any chance to get busy in the kitchen -- its one of my favourite ways to be good to those I love.
We had a great meal together, after which we enjoyed a trip to the park - the kids slid and ran around and swung and saw the deer and the birds, the ducks and geese. Lindsay and the kids went on their way home. KK, Rob, Mom and i enjoyed a drive in the country - saw the cows and horses, even a couple of wild turkeys!! took a rollercoastery side road and screamed like we were on a ride at Wonderland!! Capped the trip off with a stop at Timmie's for drinks, then dropped Mom off and headed home. Rob and I went for a walk, then watched CSI taped from Thursday!!! and THEN saw "Tristan and Isolde". .
Its late now, i'm gonna close. Rob's playing guitar downstairs, I love when he does that. . I love living in a music house. . what's not to love about staying up till 2 a.m.?! squeeze every bit outta the one day and bite into the next one! heh heh. . . I'm an incurable nighthawk. I may just sleep in this morning. .
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
spring
winter surrenders
the sleeping, barren earth shows her hidden life
and i feel joy
faded brown gives way to vivid green
ice recedes from loamy soil
warm air blows through budding branches
Resurrection's in the air, in the sun,
perfumed rain soaks the ground
The world throbs with life and the promise of plenty
Elemental symphony -- birds sing ancient mysteries.
earth echoes their song. . my heart sings along.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
as promised -- cenote!!!!
SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5211/413/320/101_0640.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'> 
If you click on this top link, you will see the jade green water of the open air cenote just past the Temple of Venus.
Okay, now this was the cenote in which we jumped and swam! -- notice the vines, the spots of filtered sunlight shining on the water's surface. From the midway point on the steps down, you could see the dark silhouettes of the catfish circling around -. The water was extremely refreshing after that stifling heat! You see the divers here standing on the steps. We were told that it was 150 feet deep!!! I can't even guess how wide. . it seemed huge, though these pictures don't really convey that.
Rob and I climbed the steps, looked down at the water below -- i was so scared -- we counted 1. . . . "I can't do it!!!" said me. 2. . . . .. . "AHHHH!!! i don't think i can!" 3!!!!! I jumped and my heart rose up in my throat, i screamed all the way down -- until i splashed down and way under, water shooting up my nose. . and into my ears!!! Rob stayed up above laughing at me!!!!!
I lolled about, swimming mostly around the middle, cuz for some reason i felt safe there?! Rob and I at one point were laying on our backs, looking up at people WWWAYYY up there, looking down at us! Then we just hung out and treaded water. . at which point he said: "Try opening your eyes underwater. I can't see a thing. . its completely black!" This freaked me out just a bit. . the fact that i was essentially swimming in a graveyard, and God knows what else they chucked in there over the centures?! Not to mention the thought of fish and assorted other ugly, squirmy creatures. . I just wanted to stay as much on the surface as possible!!!
By the end of our session he had taken the plunge 5 times and me three. . I can't even describe the peace, swimming around on that deep blue surface. . If you floated on your back and looked up you see vines hanging like curtains from way up above!!! If you looked up you saw this yawning gap of sky, rimmed by mossy earth at the top-most part of the cave, from which the vines dangle. . and from which water drips and showers you as you move underneath it.
I think it was one of the most amazing things I'd ever done!!! WAY better than our ocean jet skiing the next day which was NOT something i would ever try again. Maybe a nice, calm lake yes. . but it was a choppy sea the day we were out. . I know that there were sharks and other grossities out in the open water and that FREAKED ME OUT! We were just slamming on the waves and every time we cut across a wave we went up and then of course slammed down. .so it went like this: VRRRRROOOM!!! cut through the wave "AHHHH!!!!" slam down. . . "AAAAH!" I just screamed the whole time. . It was such a small craft to be out in the open ocean. . i felt too vulnerable and was frightened to death of falling off the back of the thing!!! Rob took me back to the beach and he went out by himself!! I think he was glad to dump me off!!!
Yes, the cenote was the aquatic highlight for me. . we tried kayaking too, but its tricky with those waves. . cenote! cenote!!! I would DEFINITELY take the leap again!!!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Kukulcan's temple -- Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, Mexico.
Me and Robbie are dwarfed by this amazing marvel of ancient Mayan engineering.
The 2 hour-trip away from the Caribbean Sea, into miles of scrub and naked, tangled trees and bone-dry land, what a shock to the system. The climate controlled bus came to a stop and we spilled out into this OVEN of a place that is Chichen Itza. . A bottle of cold water was issued to each person on leaving and again on re-entering the bus. Our guide, Jose Luis, warned of the dangers of dehydration.They were NOT kidding ! After only about 20 minutes or so i began to feel the effects of the sun (even with my hat and sunglasses and sunblock). After an hour my legs were rubber and I was starting to feel like i was gonna fall down! Rob offered me some of his water, which by that point had become hot in the bottle. . not warm -- HOT! We found a place to buy some nice, cold water. . $200 pesos or so. . just a few dollars. I don't think I have ever appreciated water as much as I did that bottle of "Crystal".
Extreme heat aside. . we were entranced with these ruins and we listened to descriptions of their mathematically-adept architects. What an education!! To be honest I had never really thought much about Mayan history - it just never came up in conversation where i live! They were the creators of a numerical system that ultimately became the binary system used in modern computing. . these ppl lived by the stars, marked equinoxes and solstices with great, stone monuments, using precision and skill that baffles 21st century scientists. They took powerful hallucinogens and took 'vision quests' into outer space, said our proudly Mayan guide, Jose #2. Upon coming back down to 'earth', they would use the knowledge they gathered to erect their observatories and their pyramids within pyramids (similar large pyramids in Teotihuacan contained 7 pyramids in 1 - to pay homage to the constellation "The 7 Sisters"). Here's a bit of coolness for you. . . the rubber trees here exude a stretchy, white sap that was mixed with herbs to make ancient 'chewing gum' called (in Mayan) "Chi Clet" "Chi" = mouth "Clet" = chew. .
Chiclets!!!
We had the guided tour, then we were allowed to go "Indiana Jones". . explore on our own. Our guides kept repeating "7186 - The Good Guys". . it was the bus number and our tour's 'Code Name'!!! (with so many tour buses, you did NOT want to get on the wrong one!!!) Unbelievably, I STILL remember this!!! Great brainwashing job, eh?!! With 12 square miles of Chichen Itza to explore and not very much time in which to do it, we chose to take a right past the Observatory and the remains of The Temple of Venus. . and headed to see a jade-green 'cenote' (senotay). These giant meteor craters are fed by underground rivers and were used for ritual sacrifices in which bones of the deceased (males and infants) sacred objects and other items would be cast into the watery pit. I'd like to post another picture here for you. . but I don't know how to post more than 1 at a time!!! GAH!!! I will put one up in a separate post. . and I'll show you a picture of the one that we were later privileged to jump into and swim around in!!!
The sheer size of this settlement was just one of those things you have to see with you own eyes to believe! We also toured the "Templo de los Guerreros" (Temple of the Warriors). What a fierce structure this was. . with its thousands of stone poles, each paying tribute to a man of legendary strength and battle skill *more than just a little phallic!!!* MEN!!!!! We were left breathless as we walked the pathway that suddenly opened onto this 3 football field-sized expanse of land on which sat the jewel in the crown, Kukulcan's temple!! flanked by many other grand ghostly structures, which even in their 'ruined' state, catch your breath and leave you with few words. If you scratch away the thin, yellowed grass with your foot, you uncover interlocking paving stones as far as you can see. Amazing. . how painstaking to place them. .they were completely level.
Something that we found extremely disturbing, and against which we were warned by our guides, was the presence of hundreds of peddlars. They were apparently illegally there, everywhere among the ruins. You quickly felt hassled. They would come up to you and hold stuff up in your face, tell you how many pesos, how many dollars. So many of them. . with so many fake pyramids, hats, panflutes, jaguars, masks, mirrors. Everywhere you walked someone was trying to get you to buy a statue, "One dollah!" they would cry out. "Three for 10 Dollah!" Young men waved marble and quartz carvings and yelled out "You like? Good deal! Come on!" Old men sat under the shady trees and carved pieces of wood. The flood of tourists passed the squatters, but despite advisement against encouraging these vendors - many ppl bought from them. Old women waved white embroidered handkerchiefs, their wizened faces and tired eyes made me incredibly sad. Dirty-faced young children with their chins tilted down, would look up at you with big brown eyes. I just could not believe the desperation that seemed to have gripped every one of them. This was their bread and butter -- squatting illegally in a government-protected heritage site and hoping the tourists would give them a few bucks. The way i was feeling as we walked through this tunnel of vendors to the cenote. . i was annoyed, like you might feel if bugs are constantly hovering around you and you can't get away from them. I felt faint from the baking heat and worst of all I felt so upset by the poverty i was seeing. I wanted to say to them "I don't want to buy that stupid stuff. .how can i really help you?" Its impossible to make such offers when you're only there for a couple of hours. We did buy a photo folio from a thin, white-haired Mayan man. . the proceeds of which went to support the "Investigacion Y Conservacion De La Cultura Maya".
Time had come to head back to the bus, back past all those desperate people, back past all the merchandise-covered tarps spread on the dusty ground. .back past all those eyes, past all the yells. . we finally caved and bought a double panflute. . most likely got ripped off. . but when i look at it now, i think of the young man who sold it to us and i think of the village that we passed on our way to lunch and our cenote swim. This place was so, so full of tiny little stuccoed homes. . surrounded by scrub and dust. .skinny dogs trotted in backyards littered with discarded tricycles, jalopy trucks, empty Corona beer bottles. I thought of my neighbourhood back home and I felt so unbelievably odd gazing upon this bareness. . sitting in that expensive bus, wearing new clothes, money in my wallet, being shuttled around in comfort, fed a buffet, given the sight of a lifetime at Chichen Itza, taken to swim in a wondrous meteor crater, even watched a movie on the way. It was unsettling. But as Rob reminded me, this is what their 'economy' thrives on -- tourism.
We had taken plenty of pictures, we were tired and awed and grateful and unsettled. The bus shuddered through a series of small villages on our way home, picking up speed once on the highway. . leaving Yucatan, heading back into Quintana Roo (Kintanna Roh) leaving the poverty and the dust and endless acres of ugly trees. . ever closer to that gorgeous ocean and our beautiful resort. . This was the day of the Presidential and Prime Ministerial meetings in Cancun. . armed guards stood miles outside of the city. . choppers hugged the shorelines. . grey battle ships dotted the water, divers worked along the coast. Traffic snarled. . our stomachs growled. We were dropped off at the front doors of our beautiful temporary home - we thanked the 2 Joses and Mr. Angel the driver. . 7186 "The Good Guys"!!! we tipped them and headed up to our room to fall down on the bed for a rest. What a strange privilege was ours. . absolutely unforgettable.
Me and Robbie are dwarfed by this amazing marvel of ancient Mayan engineering.
The 2 hour-trip away from the Caribbean Sea, into miles of scrub and naked, tangled trees and bone-dry land, what a shock to the system. The climate controlled bus came to a stop and we spilled out into this OVEN of a place that is Chichen Itza. . A bottle of cold water was issued to each person on leaving and again on re-entering the bus. Our guide, Jose Luis, warned of the dangers of dehydration.They were NOT kidding ! After only about 20 minutes or so i began to feel the effects of the sun (even with my hat and sunglasses and sunblock). After an hour my legs were rubber and I was starting to feel like i was gonna fall down! Rob offered me some of his water, which by that point had become hot in the bottle. . not warm -- HOT! We found a place to buy some nice, cold water. . $200 pesos or so. . just a few dollars. I don't think I have ever appreciated water as much as I did that bottle of "Crystal".
Extreme heat aside. . we were entranced with these ruins and we listened to descriptions of their mathematically-adept architects. What an education!! To be honest I had never really thought much about Mayan history - it just never came up in conversation where i live! They were the creators of a numerical system that ultimately became the binary system used in modern computing. . these ppl lived by the stars, marked equinoxes and solstices with great, stone monuments, using precision and skill that baffles 21st century scientists. They took powerful hallucinogens and took 'vision quests' into outer space, said our proudly Mayan guide, Jose #2. Upon coming back down to 'earth', they would use the knowledge they gathered to erect their observatories and their pyramids within pyramids (similar large pyramids in Teotihuacan contained 7 pyramids in 1 - to pay homage to the constellation "The 7 Sisters"). Here's a bit of coolness for you. . . the rubber trees here exude a stretchy, white sap that was mixed with herbs to make ancient 'chewing gum' called (in Mayan) "Chi Clet" "Chi" = mouth "Clet" = chew. .
Chiclets!!!
We had the guided tour, then we were allowed to go "Indiana Jones". . explore on our own. Our guides kept repeating "7186 - The Good Guys". . it was the bus number and our tour's 'Code Name'!!! (with so many tour buses, you did NOT want to get on the wrong one!!!) Unbelievably, I STILL remember this!!! Great brainwashing job, eh?!! With 12 square miles of Chichen Itza to explore and not very much time in which to do it, we chose to take a right past the Observatory and the remains of The Temple of Venus. . and headed to see a jade-green 'cenote' (senotay). These giant meteor craters are fed by underground rivers and were used for ritual sacrifices in which bones of the deceased (males and infants) sacred objects and other items would be cast into the watery pit. I'd like to post another picture here for you. . but I don't know how to post more than 1 at a time!!! GAH!!! I will put one up in a separate post. . and I'll show you a picture of the one that we were later privileged to jump into and swim around in!!!
The sheer size of this settlement was just one of those things you have to see with you own eyes to believe! We also toured the "Templo de los Guerreros" (Temple of the Warriors). What a fierce structure this was. . with its thousands of stone poles, each paying tribute to a man of legendary strength and battle skill *more than just a little phallic!!!* MEN!!!!! We were left breathless as we walked the pathway that suddenly opened onto this 3 football field-sized expanse of land on which sat the jewel in the crown, Kukulcan's temple!! flanked by many other grand ghostly structures, which even in their 'ruined' state, catch your breath and leave you with few words. If you scratch away the thin, yellowed grass with your foot, you uncover interlocking paving stones as far as you can see. Amazing. . how painstaking to place them. .they were completely level.
Something that we found extremely disturbing, and against which we were warned by our guides, was the presence of hundreds of peddlars. They were apparently illegally there, everywhere among the ruins. You quickly felt hassled. They would come up to you and hold stuff up in your face, tell you how many pesos, how many dollars. So many of them. . with so many fake pyramids, hats, panflutes, jaguars, masks, mirrors. Everywhere you walked someone was trying to get you to buy a statue, "One dollah!" they would cry out. "Three for 10 Dollah!" Young men waved marble and quartz carvings and yelled out "You like? Good deal! Come on!" Old men sat under the shady trees and carved pieces of wood. The flood of tourists passed the squatters, but despite advisement against encouraging these vendors - many ppl bought from them. Old women waved white embroidered handkerchiefs, their wizened faces and tired eyes made me incredibly sad. Dirty-faced young children with their chins tilted down, would look up at you with big brown eyes. I just could not believe the desperation that seemed to have gripped every one of them. This was their bread and butter -- squatting illegally in a government-protected heritage site and hoping the tourists would give them a few bucks. The way i was feeling as we walked through this tunnel of vendors to the cenote. . i was annoyed, like you might feel if bugs are constantly hovering around you and you can't get away from them. I felt faint from the baking heat and worst of all I felt so upset by the poverty i was seeing. I wanted to say to them "I don't want to buy that stupid stuff. .how can i really help you?" Its impossible to make such offers when you're only there for a couple of hours. We did buy a photo folio from a thin, white-haired Mayan man. . the proceeds of which went to support the "Investigacion Y Conservacion De La Cultura Maya".
Time had come to head back to the bus, back past all those desperate people, back past all the merchandise-covered tarps spread on the dusty ground. .back past all those eyes, past all the yells. . we finally caved and bought a double panflute. . most likely got ripped off. . but when i look at it now, i think of the young man who sold it to us and i think of the village that we passed on our way to lunch and our cenote swim. This place was so, so full of tiny little stuccoed homes. . surrounded by scrub and dust. .skinny dogs trotted in backyards littered with discarded tricycles, jalopy trucks, empty Corona beer bottles. I thought of my neighbourhood back home and I felt so unbelievably odd gazing upon this bareness. . sitting in that expensive bus, wearing new clothes, money in my wallet, being shuttled around in comfort, fed a buffet, given the sight of a lifetime at Chichen Itza, taken to swim in a wondrous meteor crater, even watched a movie on the way. It was unsettling. But as Rob reminded me, this is what their 'economy' thrives on -- tourism.
We had taken plenty of pictures, we were tired and awed and grateful and unsettled. The bus shuddered through a series of small villages on our way home, picking up speed once on the highway. . leaving Yucatan, heading back into Quintana Roo (Kintanna Roh) leaving the poverty and the dust and endless acres of ugly trees. . ever closer to that gorgeous ocean and our beautiful resort. . This was the day of the Presidential and Prime Ministerial meetings in Cancun. . armed guards stood miles outside of the city. . choppers hugged the shorelines. . grey battle ships dotted the water, divers worked along the coast. Traffic snarled. . our stomachs growled. We were dropped off at the front doors of our beautiful temporary home - we thanked the 2 Joses and Mr. Angel the driver. . 7186 "The Good Guys"!!! we tipped them and headed up to our room to fall down on the bed for a rest. What a strange privilege was ours. . absolutely unforgettable.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
over my head
i've been having dreams the past several nights in which i'm over my head in water.
Ordinarily this is a great thing, because i love water. I even like to think that it took so long for me to be born because I didn't want to come out of the water!
These dreams have been different than having a beautiful swim in a placid lake, or peaceful pool. The waters of my dreams have been raging, surging, wild and uncontrolled. I have either fallen into them and been swept away with the flow, going under and dragging myself up, sputtering and gasping. . or i have been dragged over the edge of a thundering cataract and plunged screaming, thousands of feet down the roaring sheet of water.
I seem to have these thematic dreams -- climbing impossible heights, frightened to death of falling, or i've been hopelessly lost on a journey and unable to get my bearings. . now with being submerged and surrendered to a journey not of my choosing, having to go where the waves take me. I think there's a leather couch in a nearby office with my name on it!!!
So, its Easter Sunday morning - very early. . i should be in bed asleep! My thoughts are churning as much as the water in my dreams, keeping me awake. I've been trying to pray but i'm too antsy. . . i had to write this. Maybe this is a way to pray? think things through, sort stuff out.
Aside from the whole spring renewal, baby chicks, easter bunny, eggs both real and candy, lamb with mint sauce, buns with crosses, ham dinner, new clothes, going to church stuff, this year I'm really trying to ask myself "What is all this stuff that we do?"
When I was a kid it was all about the excitement of the Easter Bunny hiding all those sugary goodies. The anticipation of the hunt, the pastel-coloured, woven treat-holding baskets, the gorging on chocolate, marshmallow and jelly beans! Kid heaven!!! It was also the new Easter dress, hat, white gloves, white patent leather shoes to wear to church, where I heard words like sin, Jesus, cross, mercy, grave, risen, Redeemer, forgiveness, salvation, everlasting life. I was familiar with these words, i knew the sound of them, but I'm afraid that they took a back seat to Laura Secord cream eggs and my newest spring outfit. The purple words were all way over my head.
Fast forward through the decades. . i played Easter Bunny to my own kids, dyed eggs with food colouring, bought those baskets, the girlie outfits, hid the candy eggs, decorated the house with spring flowers, toasted hot cross buns for breakfast, dressed the girls and went to church.
Now I've lived enough to know more than the sound of those words, but I've become familiar with how they feel to me. My feelings however go up and down like the thermometer during the transition between seasons. But the purple words don't take a back seat to the former things, or do they? The money I've spent this week on food for 'the feast', the money I plunked down at the hand-made chocolate shop, the fresh cut flowers, the potted lily, the little gifts for the grandkids, the menu planning. I wonder, have I gotten it yet? I'm middle aged for crying in the sink! but I sometimes I don't really think its sunk in?
I went to a nearby church on "Good Friday". . . a day that can hardly be called 'good', but maybe "Good Came From That Friday"? I had taken Thursday off in order to run around and get 'stuff' for the big event -- so it was quite a gearing down the next morning when I entered a darkened, hushed room with all its candle-lit 'stations'. I sat in quietness with other strangers as i moved from one display to the next. I began by staring at 30 pieces of silver - coins spilled out on a cloth-lined table. I thought of betrayal . I thought of my own fickleness. Next I touched some rough, splintered pieces of wood and winced as i thought of how it felt to lie against that wood. I held cold metal spikes in my hand and hefted a mallet. I thought of how much it hurt if a tiny needle entered my skin, couldn't imagine this spike. I ate a piece of bread and took a sip of grape juice - thought of his body, broken for us and his blood shed. I took some strips of muslin fabric in my hands and rubbed them together - grave clothes - i smelled the myrrh, put some in the palm of my hand. Pictured 75 pounds of this used to embalm his body. . this was the amount used for a royal burial in those days -- how ironic after his criminal's death.
When I sat at each station and thought about all these parts of his whole death process, I began to feel the weight of the purple words becoming a reality and felt them overshadow my trip to the chocolate shop and felt them dwarf the grocery run and eclipse the balloons and the stuffed toy rabbits -- as i thought of such merciful, selfless bravery and hard core compassion -- i felt once more over my head. I came to a torn curtain, hanging between flood-lit pillars and i tried to imagine the sound of the ripping of that heavy temple curtain that separated the 'holy of holies' from the common area -- i thought of what this meant. . no more separation between God and us. Last, I came to a small cross, draped in scarlet cloth, from which hung a crown of thorns --at the base of which lay a crossbeam, a bucket of small nails, black pieces of paper, pencils and a hammer. This was my cross. I was invited to write down something I felt that I was willing to surrender, then lay it on the wood and pound it in. I sat there for a while. What could i possibly write on that black piece of paper? And if i DID write down something, would i really be honest about it? I thought of wanting to be real and feel something more about Easter than all that stuff we've all made it into. I thought of those purple words that have always been in my head, but did they really make the journey down to my heart yet? Sometimes i think they have, but then other times I worry that I don't have the slightest clue how heavily beautiful they are and I don't understand them. I sat some more. At last I got up and took a pencil in hand, knelt by the bucket of nails, wrote "myself" on the paper and nailed it to the 'cross' in 3 strikes of the hammer. Its not that I thought of me hanging on a cross, but rather of me being willing to symbolically promise my everything to the one would did not hesitate to literally give his everything for me. Once more I felt over my head - but isn't that really what i wanted? Real? not candy? not flowers or baked goods? not buying things? not stuffed toys? not even church attendance or Bible verses? but me flooded over by the reality of his depth of mercy?
I used to belong to a beautiful choir. We sang this song, or rather 'they' sang it, because I don't think I ever sang a note . It always made me cry. . .the haunting tune ebbing and flowing like ocean swells, the words cut me down. I cried for my badness and for his goodness that swallowed it up:
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forbear? me the chief of sinners spare?
I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to his face,
Would not harken to his calls, grieved him by a thousand falls.
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forebear? Me the chief of sinners spare?
Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above.
See the cause in Jesus' face, now before the throne of grace.
There for me a Saviour stands, show His wounds and spreads His hands
God is love, I know, I feel. . . Jesus lives and loves me still.
Ordinarily this is a great thing, because i love water. I even like to think that it took so long for me to be born because I didn't want to come out of the water!
These dreams have been different than having a beautiful swim in a placid lake, or peaceful pool. The waters of my dreams have been raging, surging, wild and uncontrolled. I have either fallen into them and been swept away with the flow, going under and dragging myself up, sputtering and gasping. . or i have been dragged over the edge of a thundering cataract and plunged screaming, thousands of feet down the roaring sheet of water.
I seem to have these thematic dreams -- climbing impossible heights, frightened to death of falling, or i've been hopelessly lost on a journey and unable to get my bearings. . now with being submerged and surrendered to a journey not of my choosing, having to go where the waves take me. I think there's a leather couch in a nearby office with my name on it!!!
So, its Easter Sunday morning - very early. . i should be in bed asleep! My thoughts are churning as much as the water in my dreams, keeping me awake. I've been trying to pray but i'm too antsy. . . i had to write this. Maybe this is a way to pray? think things through, sort stuff out.
Aside from the whole spring renewal, baby chicks, easter bunny, eggs both real and candy, lamb with mint sauce, buns with crosses, ham dinner, new clothes, going to church stuff, this year I'm really trying to ask myself "What is all this stuff that we do?"
When I was a kid it was all about the excitement of the Easter Bunny hiding all those sugary goodies. The anticipation of the hunt, the pastel-coloured, woven treat-holding baskets, the gorging on chocolate, marshmallow and jelly beans! Kid heaven!!! It was also the new Easter dress, hat, white gloves, white patent leather shoes to wear to church, where I heard words like sin, Jesus, cross, mercy, grave, risen, Redeemer, forgiveness, salvation, everlasting life. I was familiar with these words, i knew the sound of them, but I'm afraid that they took a back seat to Laura Secord cream eggs and my newest spring outfit. The purple words were all way over my head.
Fast forward through the decades. . i played Easter Bunny to my own kids, dyed eggs with food colouring, bought those baskets, the girlie outfits, hid the candy eggs, decorated the house with spring flowers, toasted hot cross buns for breakfast, dressed the girls and went to church.
Now I've lived enough to know more than the sound of those words, but I've become familiar with how they feel to me. My feelings however go up and down like the thermometer during the transition between seasons. But the purple words don't take a back seat to the former things, or do they? The money I've spent this week on food for 'the feast', the money I plunked down at the hand-made chocolate shop, the fresh cut flowers, the potted lily, the little gifts for the grandkids, the menu planning. I wonder, have I gotten it yet? I'm middle aged for crying in the sink! but I sometimes I don't really think its sunk in?
I went to a nearby church on "Good Friday". . . a day that can hardly be called 'good', but maybe "Good Came From That Friday"? I had taken Thursday off in order to run around and get 'stuff' for the big event -- so it was quite a gearing down the next morning when I entered a darkened, hushed room with all its candle-lit 'stations'. I sat in quietness with other strangers as i moved from one display to the next. I began by staring at 30 pieces of silver - coins spilled out on a cloth-lined table. I thought of betrayal . I thought of my own fickleness. Next I touched some rough, splintered pieces of wood and winced as i thought of how it felt to lie against that wood. I held cold metal spikes in my hand and hefted a mallet. I thought of how much it hurt if a tiny needle entered my skin, couldn't imagine this spike. I ate a piece of bread and took a sip of grape juice - thought of his body, broken for us and his blood shed. I took some strips of muslin fabric in my hands and rubbed them together - grave clothes - i smelled the myrrh, put some in the palm of my hand. Pictured 75 pounds of this used to embalm his body. . this was the amount used for a royal burial in those days -- how ironic after his criminal's death.
When I sat at each station and thought about all these parts of his whole death process, I began to feel the weight of the purple words becoming a reality and felt them overshadow my trip to the chocolate shop and felt them dwarf the grocery run and eclipse the balloons and the stuffed toy rabbits -- as i thought of such merciful, selfless bravery and hard core compassion -- i felt once more over my head. I came to a torn curtain, hanging between flood-lit pillars and i tried to imagine the sound of the ripping of that heavy temple curtain that separated the 'holy of holies' from the common area -- i thought of what this meant. . no more separation between God and us. Last, I came to a small cross, draped in scarlet cloth, from which hung a crown of thorns --at the base of which lay a crossbeam, a bucket of small nails, black pieces of paper, pencils and a hammer. This was my cross. I was invited to write down something I felt that I was willing to surrender, then lay it on the wood and pound it in. I sat there for a while. What could i possibly write on that black piece of paper? And if i DID write down something, would i really be honest about it? I thought of wanting to be real and feel something more about Easter than all that stuff we've all made it into. I thought of those purple words that have always been in my head, but did they really make the journey down to my heart yet? Sometimes i think they have, but then other times I worry that I don't have the slightest clue how heavily beautiful they are and I don't understand them. I sat some more. At last I got up and took a pencil in hand, knelt by the bucket of nails, wrote "myself" on the paper and nailed it to the 'cross' in 3 strikes of the hammer. Its not that I thought of me hanging on a cross, but rather of me being willing to symbolically promise my everything to the one would did not hesitate to literally give his everything for me. Once more I felt over my head - but isn't that really what i wanted? Real? not candy? not flowers or baked goods? not buying things? not stuffed toys? not even church attendance or Bible verses? but me flooded over by the reality of his depth of mercy?
I used to belong to a beautiful choir. We sang this song, or rather 'they' sang it, because I don't think I ever sang a note . It always made me cry. . .the haunting tune ebbing and flowing like ocean swells, the words cut me down. I cried for my badness and for his goodness that swallowed it up:
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forbear? me the chief of sinners spare?
I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to his face,
Would not harken to his calls, grieved him by a thousand falls.
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forebear? Me the chief of sinners spare?
Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above.
See the cause in Jesus' face, now before the throne of grace.
There for me a Saviour stands, show His wounds and spreads His hands
God is love, I know, I feel. . . Jesus lives and loves me still.
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