the distance from my hip joint to my ankle = 90 cm
my grocery store receipt from today. . . 90 cm long
I'm 2 of today's grocery receipts tall (minus 5 cm)
a grocery receipt 90 cm long??
that's
35.5 inches
that's
.5 inches shy of 3 feet.
$273.24
yes,
i know. .
here come the reasons:
we were quite depleted
hadn't been for a full order in 2 weeks
not all of it was 'feast' shopping. .
there were a few stocking stuffers
a small gift *we shop in one of those lovely, palatial almost-everything-you-could-need stores*
there were 2 x 40 kg softener salt bags thrown in
there were staple items in the cart. . .
cereal
bread
pasta
vegetable oil
milk
veg
fruit
We could have purchased an organic, free range turkey. . for $55
Our bill would have come to
$300
we paid $29 for one instead.
it costs to put on a holiday meal
we all expect that
but it never fails to shock
fresh herbs
turkey
potatoes
veg
Christmas Day trifle ingredients
Christmas Eve pavlova ingredients
butter
clementines
egg bread for the stuffing
stock for the gravy *there's no time for home made*
pop - Canada Dry gingerale
We won't even itemize the baking ingredients I've bought in the past month and a half
I would estimate that cost to be . . .
ridiculous
despite economizing
without sacrificing
ingredient quality
everything costs so much lately
but we must
have
our
feast
"There'll be turkeys for basting and stuffing for tasting
and giblets and gravy will flow. . .
there'll be cookies that mom baked and leftover fruitcake
from a Christmas a long time ago. . ." (excerpted from "Its the Most Fattening Time of the Year" )
its wonderful
but its also kinda
wrong
is that the word?
Maybe. . or not.
I was trying so hard to stay
calm
but
buggies closing in behind me
holding up 'traffic' in front of me
clogged aisles
massive checkout lines
Christmas Muzak
people, people..
left me all nerve jangled
and irritable
Because of God's tender mercy, the light from Heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace. Luke 1:78/79
yes,
yes.
how easily i lose sight
of the beautiful truth.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
i see?
my sight is pretty good
but sometimes i just don't see very well.
faces, objects, locations, my eyes view them and my brain processes the images
there is seeing
and then there's vision
i pray that the eyes of your heart will be opened, in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you Eph 1:18
i don't ever just want to look
or see
eyesight is great
but i want heartsight
and this comes
not without cost
but sometimes i just don't see very well.
faces, objects, locations, my eyes view them and my brain processes the images
there is seeing
and then there's vision
i pray that the eyes of your heart will be opened, in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you Eph 1:18
i don't ever just want to look
or see
eyesight is great
but i want heartsight
and this comes
not without cost
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
kilograms and pounds
Tonight I went to the "you're not allowed to leave until you spend at least $150" store.
I bought several gigantic things. See?!
Yes, that's 2 kilograms of chocolate chips
and the same amount of coconut
What will I do with 8.8 pounds of chocolate and coconut?
I will singlehandedly make it all disappear!
shocking but true.
cookies
squares
tarts
truffles
yeah. . its that time,
Christmas baking time!!!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
help me. .
Rob and I went to see "Great Big Sea" last night. What an amazing show they put on. We're pretty partial to their unique sound. They straddle the time-honoured shanty, ballad, sea song world of their beloved Newfoundland and the right now world, with honest, straight up lyrics and engaging, catchy tunes. They pretty much hosted a huge 'kitchen party', with fiddles, concertinas, dobros, tin whistles, guitars, drums and a jumping, stomping, full to the doors crowd.
Usually when there's a big event at concert halls, arenas, etc. you'll see the homeless or the desperate for money.
Last night was no exception.
The crowd was streaming outdoors. . we were in it, doing the 'shuffle', you know that one we all do when in a big pack of people trying to funnel out too few exits?
We finally got out the door and turned right to go towards the underground parking.
That's when I saw him.
Sitting on the freezing cold, snowy sidewalk.
Dirty and thin.
Grimy khaki ballcap on his head.
Dressed in not warm enough layers.
Looking down,
cardboard sign in his lap:
"Cold, hungry. . please help me. God Bless."
People passed him, laughing and talking, buzzing from the concert.
He sat invisibly on the sidewalk
nobody noticed him,
he looked at no one.
My heart felt a stab, but i walked past with the crowd.
My head started with the rationalization - 'he's just working the situation'
'he's probably gonna spend any money he gets on something he shouldn't'
'you don't have any cash on you'.
Heart prevailed, foolish maybe, there are always maybes that come to mind. . but i pushed them away.
Rob gave me a few bucks, cuz I had no money.
I walked up to him. He looked up at me with dark eyes and said hello.
He looked tired.
I handed him the money and said that I hope it helps a little bit.
I asked him where he was living.
He told me "Under the bridge".
hard, frozen ground and snow.
Why?
I don't even know.
I asked him if there was any place he could go to get out of the weather.
He shook his head no. . and looked up at me and said: "Last night was hard. . it was so cold."
He held up his palm with the money in it and said "God bless you, thank you. "
I could only blurt out "God bless you too. .I hope you can find some shelter."
My words seemed all stupid and useless.
That piddling token will disappear with one trip to the coffee shop.
I know he's out under that bridge right now in this -5 degree night.
". . .is anybody listening...?
love is kneeling - above the broken body the ever-upturned face
love is missing - all the words are broken, help me, i cannot find my way,
no i can't
love is streaming - streaming with the tears that we cannot seem to shed
love is frozen - frozen in the figure they just pulled from the subway grate
love is burning - burning with the anger that we all feel, against which we
kneel,
our faces pressed into the lap of loneliness, come on love
will you sail 'cross the water and lay your wisdom down?"
Jane Sibbery -- "Sail Across the Water"
Usually when there's a big event at concert halls, arenas, etc. you'll see the homeless or the desperate for money.
Last night was no exception.
The crowd was streaming outdoors. . we were in it, doing the 'shuffle', you know that one we all do when in a big pack of people trying to funnel out too few exits?
We finally got out the door and turned right to go towards the underground parking.
That's when I saw him.
Sitting on the freezing cold, snowy sidewalk.
Dirty and thin.
Grimy khaki ballcap on his head.
Dressed in not warm enough layers.
Looking down,
cardboard sign in his lap:
"Cold, hungry. . please help me. God Bless."
People passed him, laughing and talking, buzzing from the concert.
He sat invisibly on the sidewalk
nobody noticed him,
he looked at no one.
My heart felt a stab, but i walked past with the crowd.
My head started with the rationalization - 'he's just working the situation'
'he's probably gonna spend any money he gets on something he shouldn't'
'you don't have any cash on you'.
Heart prevailed, foolish maybe, there are always maybes that come to mind. . but i pushed them away.
Rob gave me a few bucks, cuz I had no money.
I walked up to him. He looked up at me with dark eyes and said hello.
He looked tired.
I handed him the money and said that I hope it helps a little bit.
I asked him where he was living.
He told me "Under the bridge".
hard, frozen ground and snow.
Why?
I don't even know.
I asked him if there was any place he could go to get out of the weather.
He shook his head no. . and looked up at me and said: "Last night was hard. . it was so cold."
He held up his palm with the money in it and said "God bless you, thank you. "
I could only blurt out "God bless you too. .I hope you can find some shelter."
My words seemed all stupid and useless.
That piddling token will disappear with one trip to the coffee shop.
I know he's out under that bridge right now in this -5 degree night.
". . .is anybody listening...?
love is kneeling - above the broken body the ever-upturned face
love is missing - all the words are broken, help me, i cannot find my way,
no i can't
love is streaming - streaming with the tears that we cannot seem to shed
love is frozen - frozen in the figure they just pulled from the subway grate
love is burning - burning with the anger that we all feel, against which we
kneel,
our faces pressed into the lap of loneliness, come on love
will you sail 'cross the water and lay your wisdom down?"
Jane Sibbery -- "Sail Across the Water"
Sunday, November 16, 2008
weakness is strength??
weakness.
we're born weak and usually die the same way.
We begin with weakness, utter dependence, we build and build our strength, independence. We grow. We may experience many dips and climb back up out of them somewhere in the middle there. . but finally we taper off once more, declining,waning,losing all that we had worked had to gain,
making it all seem like an illusion
which in a big way it is.
I remember back, feeling so proud to be a 'big girl'... riding a two wheeler, swimming and skating on my own, crossing the street without an adult. I was so impatient to grow up, be older and stronger, be taken seriously. I have this memory of flexing my bicep to my dad, saying "Look how strong I am, Daddy!". He poked the muscle and jokingly said: "That's just a sparrow's kneecap, kiddo." I remember being mightily offended. I thought I was so strong. He knew otherwise. As life progressed i went on to bigger and better things like having my own library card, taking the bus, using the stove by myself *and setting the oven mitts on fire*!getting my first babysitting job, my first Royal Bank of Canada, "Leo the Lion" account, learning to drive, choosing courses at school. .
We all feel that same hurry to grow up, be older, be independent, live on our own. Proper thing too. The alternative is unnatural. To stay dependent is not right. Independence is our much desired goal. . and well along on the way to meeting that goal, most of us easily fall prey to the notion that we have accumulated lots of knowledge. This exposes us to the danger of unteachability. We set up like cement. We've arrived. We're strong. We have a stockpile of mantras and dictums and we believe most of them... make it happen, believe and achieve, good better best, never let it rest, upwardly mobile, only the strong survive, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. .these help us to climb. . but just when you think we've arrived, there's a sudden encounter with weakness.
Whomp!
You're very sick.
You've had surgery.
You've received terrible news.
Your health is under attack.
You've lost your job.
Your marriage is on the ropes.
Your best friend is dying.
All your strength. Where is it?
You feel as weak as a kitten.
You are weak.
But you're supposed to be strong. This wasn't in the plan.
This is too much.
Can't do it. .
faced with weakness,
the illusion of control is gone
your strength had convinced you that you strength was all
but weakness is here to teach you that your strength is not all.
Not even close.
When weakness comes to you, it is very often your maker telling you:
"My gracious favour is all you need. My power works best in your weakness."
I think the only times he can get our attention is when we are helpless,
like babies.
We've all been conditioned in order to survive. . get strength, be strong, keep strength.
Like a child who tells their grown up: "No! I want to do it myself!"
Like we tell each other "Thank you, but no, I can manage."
Like we tell him, "I've got this."
When we really don't and we can't.
This is why weakness comes, to punch holes in our resolve and stoicism.
and let us feel vulnerable.
and let us rely on someone.
our cleverness is a trap
our bravado is a cloak full of holes
and friends may pull away,
then we are privileged to know
that there is but one to rely on,
who helps us gain knowledge,
reverse knowledge,
paradoxical knowledge of the purest kind.
that our strength is an illusion
that punched full of enough holes, and empty of our reserve,
we are finally able to receive the pure light of his strength.
It exceeds our capacity to contain it.
Here, in abject weakness, full of holes,
we shine.
the paradox is revealed
and we understand just a little bit
that living on his borrowed strength
is how we are healed
we're born weak and usually die the same way.
We begin with weakness, utter dependence, we build and build our strength, independence. We grow. We may experience many dips and climb back up out of them somewhere in the middle there. . but finally we taper off once more, declining,waning,losing all that we had worked had to gain,
making it all seem like an illusion
which in a big way it is.
I remember back, feeling so proud to be a 'big girl'... riding a two wheeler, swimming and skating on my own, crossing the street without an adult. I was so impatient to grow up, be older and stronger, be taken seriously. I have this memory of flexing my bicep to my dad, saying "Look how strong I am, Daddy!". He poked the muscle and jokingly said: "That's just a sparrow's kneecap, kiddo." I remember being mightily offended. I thought I was so strong. He knew otherwise. As life progressed i went on to bigger and better things like having my own library card, taking the bus, using the stove by myself *and setting the oven mitts on fire*!getting my first babysitting job, my first Royal Bank of Canada, "Leo the Lion" account, learning to drive, choosing courses at school. .
We all feel that same hurry to grow up, be older, be independent, live on our own. Proper thing too. The alternative is unnatural. To stay dependent is not right. Independence is our much desired goal. . and well along on the way to meeting that goal, most of us easily fall prey to the notion that we have accumulated lots of knowledge. This exposes us to the danger of unteachability. We set up like cement. We've arrived. We're strong. We have a stockpile of mantras and dictums and we believe most of them... make it happen, believe and achieve, good better best, never let it rest, upwardly mobile, only the strong survive, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. .these help us to climb. . but just when you think we've arrived, there's a sudden encounter with weakness.
Whomp!
You're very sick.
You've had surgery.
You've received terrible news.
Your health is under attack.
You've lost your job.
Your marriage is on the ropes.
Your best friend is dying.
All your strength. Where is it?
You feel as weak as a kitten.
You are weak.
But you're supposed to be strong. This wasn't in the plan.
This is too much.
Can't do it. .
faced with weakness,
the illusion of control is gone
your strength had convinced you that you strength was all
but weakness is here to teach you that your strength is not all.
Not even close.
When weakness comes to you, it is very often your maker telling you:
"My gracious favour is all you need. My power works best in your weakness."
I think the only times he can get our attention is when we are helpless,
like babies.
We've all been conditioned in order to survive. . get strength, be strong, keep strength.
Like a child who tells their grown up: "No! I want to do it myself!"
Like we tell each other "Thank you, but no, I can manage."
Like we tell him, "I've got this."
When we really don't and we can't.
This is why weakness comes, to punch holes in our resolve and stoicism.
and let us feel vulnerable.
and let us rely on someone.
our cleverness is a trap
our bravado is a cloak full of holes
and friends may pull away,
then we are privileged to know
that there is but one to rely on,
who helps us gain knowledge,
reverse knowledge,
paradoxical knowledge of the purest kind.
that our strength is an illusion
that punched full of enough holes, and empty of our reserve,
we are finally able to receive the pure light of his strength.
It exceeds our capacity to contain it.
Here, in abject weakness, full of holes,
we shine.
the paradox is revealed
and we understand just a little bit
that living on his borrowed strength
is how we are healed
Thursday, November 06, 2008
a little music and introspection never hurt anyone
I'm enjoying some music listening tonight. . starting off with "My Last Amen" by downhere. ". . . I could swear I have two hearts, one to stay, one to depart the sad, tragic kingdom. and it burns me down to the core because I know there's so much more, its just a pale reflection. And it keeps me wanting that mysterious thing,like an outcast waiting to be loved." This genius song haunts and lifts me. "Somewhere in the grand design its good to be unsatisfied. It keeps the faith and hope a little more alive. . ." and i find this song to be such a great fit with my thoughts at this moment. . I'm happy and alone.
I'm sitting in the front room on the couch, lights out - ipod screen glowing.
I'm looking out the picture window. . .and i'm seeing a falling star! its flaring all silver, streaking downwards, making me feel more alive as it dies. . . i feel like a kid! Its like God is saying "Look!". I know the scientific explanation for this phenomenon, but i prefer to see it with awe. Awe is so undervalued, underexperienced.
Each day this week i have wanted so much to escape the confines of hallways, fluorescent lighting and offices.
Weather has been glorious and warm for November, such a beautiful aberration.
Remaining inside and at the desk felt almost impossible. . . the river was calling to be canoed and my bike spoke to me from the shed at home, i heard it say it was lonely.
My fading tan was whispering: "Sun, i need it, i'm dying."
The ringing phone, the crowded task bar on my computer and all things tediously urgent and pressing held me fast and nearly against my will.
I've been so restless.
In the hospital halls where for a quarter century i have walked and worked and tried to keep the balance as a community member, an employee, a some time patient, a co-worker, being taught, teaching, feeling inadequate,capable, hassled, humbled. I have met and gotten to know and said goodbye to so many people - but i feel the imprint of them all within myself and this presses and holds me equally fast and in total willingness to stay, to do more than just ricochet off of each other. . to see each other. Restless to go past the surface.
I've realized that much of living is about feeling restless in some way or another. .
Restless for change. . (but afraid of how it might look or feel)
Restless for honesty - but if everyone was honest, could i handle that?
More often for me I feel restless in my spirit. . i don't mean my soul. . my emotions and will, they're so contrary, I can't go by them.
Deeper.
Sometimes I think i had a little flash of insight, i see that there's more, I know that I'm not made to be shallow. . and I long for the depths,
i can almost hear him say to me: "You're so close, don't be satisfied with less. . come on!"
but just as quickly, like a little child looking at something else that catches her fancy, i turn and break the connection, never completely because I'm drawn, always.
". . .And it burns me down to the core because I know there's so much more, its just a pale reflection. And it keeps me wanting that mysterious thing,like an outcast waiting to be loved." Thanx, downhere, your words always strike a chord. . no pun intended.
I'm sitting in the front room on the couch, lights out - ipod screen glowing.
I'm looking out the picture window. . .and i'm seeing a falling star! its flaring all silver, streaking downwards, making me feel more alive as it dies. . . i feel like a kid! Its like God is saying "Look!". I know the scientific explanation for this phenomenon, but i prefer to see it with awe. Awe is so undervalued, underexperienced.
Each day this week i have wanted so much to escape the confines of hallways, fluorescent lighting and offices.
Weather has been glorious and warm for November, such a beautiful aberration.
Remaining inside and at the desk felt almost impossible. . . the river was calling to be canoed and my bike spoke to me from the shed at home, i heard it say it was lonely.
My fading tan was whispering: "Sun, i need it, i'm dying."
The ringing phone, the crowded task bar on my computer and all things tediously urgent and pressing held me fast and nearly against my will.
I've been so restless.
In the hospital halls where for a quarter century i have walked and worked and tried to keep the balance as a community member, an employee, a some time patient, a co-worker, being taught, teaching, feeling inadequate,capable, hassled, humbled. I have met and gotten to know and said goodbye to so many people - but i feel the imprint of them all within myself and this presses and holds me equally fast and in total willingness to stay, to do more than just ricochet off of each other. . to see each other. Restless to go past the surface.
I've realized that much of living is about feeling restless in some way or another. .
Restless for change. . (but afraid of how it might look or feel)
Restless for honesty - but if everyone was honest, could i handle that?
More often for me I feel restless in my spirit. . i don't mean my soul. . my emotions and will, they're so contrary, I can't go by them.
Deeper.
Sometimes I think i had a little flash of insight, i see that there's more, I know that I'm not made to be shallow. . and I long for the depths,
i can almost hear him say to me: "You're so close, don't be satisfied with less. . come on!"
but just as quickly, like a little child looking at something else that catches her fancy, i turn and break the connection, never completely because I'm drawn, always.
". . .And it burns me down to the core because I know there's so much more, its just a pale reflection. And it keeps me wanting that mysterious thing,like an outcast waiting to be loved." Thanx, downhere, your words always strike a chord. . no pun intended.
Friday, October 31, 2008
The Holy Spirit
May the Spirit
Bless you with discomfort at easy answers,
half truths and superficial relationships
so that you will live deep in your heart
May the Spirit
Bless you with anger
at injustice and oppression,
and exploitation of people and the earth
so that you will work for justice, equality and peace.
May the Spirit
Bless you with tears to shed
for those who suffer
so that you will
reach out your hand
to comfort them.
And may the Spirit
Bless you with the foolishness
to think you can make a difference
in the world,
so you will do the things
which others say cannot be done.
-- source unknown --
(wherever this came from, its magic)
Bless you with discomfort at easy answers,
half truths and superficial relationships
so that you will live deep in your heart
May the Spirit
Bless you with anger
at injustice and oppression,
and exploitation of people and the earth
so that you will work for justice, equality and peace.
May the Spirit
Bless you with tears to shed
for those who suffer
so that you will
reach out your hand
to comfort them.
And may the Spirit
Bless you with the foolishness
to think you can make a difference
in the world,
so you will do the things
which others say cannot be done.
-- source unknown --
(wherever this came from, its magic)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Passchendaele and a trip to the book store
A few months ago we saw the trailer for the movie "Passchendaele" and we both put it on our must see at the theatre list. Some movies are just meant for the big screen.
Rob mentioned the other day about going, I was definitely down with that.
When we got home from work yesterday, Rob went to the computer to check the movie listings. . . "Its playing at the Galaxy at 6:20". . .i thought that sounded great. "Oh, wait, its also playing at Empire at 6:50". This second bit of news perked me up. . I said, "How about we go to Empire, then i can make a quick trip to Chapters before the movie!!"
Rob indulges me every time I suggest going there. Its not his favourite place, but he knows i love it and I love him for that and a million other reasons. I had to reign myself in once we got there. . we didn't have too long to wait. I stayed just long enough to use my 'loyal member' extra discount coupon, which i got to use on top of my normal 10% member discount.. so sweet.
I bought a couple of books: "The White Rose, Munich 1942-1943" by Inge Scholl. . This one is a true story of two university students, a brother and sister, who were decapitated by court order for their involvement in the White Rose movement. This movement produced anti-Nazi propaganda and provided material assistance to victims of national socialism. It sounds intense. I suppose i will cry with this one, or feel a 60 years on rage, which i won't know what to do with.
I also bought "Seeing" by Nobel prize winning author Jose Saramago. . I've never heard of him, but the jacket praised him out of the stratosphere, so I thought i'd take a chance. Besides. . it was a hard cover for $7!!! I started into this one first. . and I'm going to have to stick it out -- maybe. He's got a really bizarre style, all run on and on sentences, over description to the point where I'm impatient for him to just cut the crap. get rid of the too numerous adjectives, clunky phrases and thoughts stretched into thoughtlessness and just get to the bloody point! He's strangely sparing with his punctuation. Everything runs together in a 'stream of consciousness' way. I'm not averse to that kind of storytelling, but this is almost dizzying, reading on and on, without anything stopping my eye or my brain. It feels almost appropriate to take a small breather after each megasentence.
The story sounded timely and interesting. . voting day in a democractic 'capital'. . voters aren't coming out because of severe weather - then turn out en mass when it clears. 70% of the ballots cast were blank. The citizens rebel, state of emergency is declared as a revolution erupts. When i read the liner note I'm told, "What begins as a satire on governments and the sometimes dubious efficacy of the democratic system turns into something far more sinister." So far reading this book has almost maddened me and set my teeth on edge. I don't want to 'see' the effort in a book. I don't want to be aware of flaws and be unable to get past them when i read a story. I want it to feel natural and seamless. I want to be transported, not derailed. "Another invaluable gift from a matchless writer." ? That's what Kirkus reviews had to say about this book. Geesh. Nobel Prize award? glowing reviews from every American newspaper? I'm wondering now if i kept my receipt. Do you think they refund on marked down items?
Passchendaele could almost be another post. . perhaps soon with remembrance day upon us. The movie was so good, if that's the right word to use for anything about war? We eat up war movies, which seems odd for peace loving Canadians. I think its just our age. We were raised by families whose lives were refined in the crucible of war. . and this affected us too. Every war movie we watch may be our attempt to identify with and try to understand our loved ones. I've seen a documentary entirely about the battle of Passchendale and was so wrenched by it and so proud of our Canadian soldiers. What a bloody mess it all was. What torture, what loss and what 'victory' (however temporary). Aggression, killing, fighting. . its just hard to stomach. I find it odd to think that in 'peace' time people are punished for killing, fighting and in 'war' time they are given medals and promotions. I know it doesn't boil down just like that. Courage, patriotism, bravery, unity of purpose all mix in with the horror and chaos. Freedom of the millions weighs on the tired shoulders of men. What a paradox is war.
Why is it that we never value anything unless we're in danger of losing it?
Why does it take danger, suffering and grief to birth gratitude in us?
And why does that gratitude so quickly dissipate into a sickly, anemic sense of entitlement?
Rob mentioned the other day about going, I was definitely down with that.
When we got home from work yesterday, Rob went to the computer to check the movie listings. . . "Its playing at the Galaxy at 6:20". . .i thought that sounded great. "Oh, wait, its also playing at Empire at 6:50". This second bit of news perked me up. . I said, "How about we go to Empire, then i can make a quick trip to Chapters before the movie!!"
Rob indulges me every time I suggest going there. Its not his favourite place, but he knows i love it and I love him for that and a million other reasons. I had to reign myself in once we got there. . we didn't have too long to wait. I stayed just long enough to use my 'loyal member' extra discount coupon, which i got to use on top of my normal 10% member discount.. so sweet.
I bought a couple of books: "The White Rose, Munich 1942-1943" by Inge Scholl. . This one is a true story of two university students, a brother and sister, who were decapitated by court order for their involvement in the White Rose movement. This movement produced anti-Nazi propaganda and provided material assistance to victims of national socialism. It sounds intense. I suppose i will cry with this one, or feel a 60 years on rage, which i won't know what to do with.
I also bought "Seeing" by Nobel prize winning author Jose Saramago. . I've never heard of him, but the jacket praised him out of the stratosphere, so I thought i'd take a chance. Besides. . it was a hard cover for $7!!! I started into this one first. . and I'm going to have to stick it out -- maybe. He's got a really bizarre style, all run on and on sentences, over description to the point where I'm impatient for him to just cut the crap. get rid of the too numerous adjectives, clunky phrases and thoughts stretched into thoughtlessness and just get to the bloody point! He's strangely sparing with his punctuation. Everything runs together in a 'stream of consciousness' way. I'm not averse to that kind of storytelling, but this is almost dizzying, reading on and on, without anything stopping my eye or my brain. It feels almost appropriate to take a small breather after each megasentence.
The story sounded timely and interesting. . voting day in a democractic 'capital'. . voters aren't coming out because of severe weather - then turn out en mass when it clears. 70% of the ballots cast were blank. The citizens rebel, state of emergency is declared as a revolution erupts. When i read the liner note I'm told, "What begins as a satire on governments and the sometimes dubious efficacy of the democratic system turns into something far more sinister." So far reading this book has almost maddened me and set my teeth on edge. I don't want to 'see' the effort in a book. I don't want to be aware of flaws and be unable to get past them when i read a story. I want it to feel natural and seamless. I want to be transported, not derailed. "Another invaluable gift from a matchless writer." ? That's what Kirkus reviews had to say about this book. Geesh. Nobel Prize award? glowing reviews from every American newspaper? I'm wondering now if i kept my receipt. Do you think they refund on marked down items?
Passchendaele could almost be another post. . perhaps soon with remembrance day upon us. The movie was so good, if that's the right word to use for anything about war? We eat up war movies, which seems odd for peace loving Canadians. I think its just our age. We were raised by families whose lives were refined in the crucible of war. . and this affected us too. Every war movie we watch may be our attempt to identify with and try to understand our loved ones. I've seen a documentary entirely about the battle of Passchendale and was so wrenched by it and so proud of our Canadian soldiers. What a bloody mess it all was. What torture, what loss and what 'victory' (however temporary). Aggression, killing, fighting. . its just hard to stomach. I find it odd to think that in 'peace' time people are punished for killing, fighting and in 'war' time they are given medals and promotions. I know it doesn't boil down just like that. Courage, patriotism, bravery, unity of purpose all mix in with the horror and chaos. Freedom of the millions weighs on the tired shoulders of men. What a paradox is war.
Why is it that we never value anything unless we're in danger of losing it?
Why does it take danger, suffering and grief to birth gratitude in us?
And why does that gratitude so quickly dissipate into a sickly, anemic sense of entitlement?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
books
Been doing some reading.
"11" by Leonard Sweet (11 indispensible relationships you can't be without)
Almost done this one. Here is an excerpt taken from the jacket:
"We all need some friends for the journey. . friends like Barnabas, Nathan, Rhoda, Zacchaeus just to name a few. Eleven of them to be exact. Without these people in your life, you'll miss out on the person you could have been. And without you in their lives, they'll miss out as well."
This book takes people from the Bible and puts them forth as embodied examples of positive character traits. E.g., Jethro was a motivator, Jonathan a true friend, Timothy an heir, Deborah was someone who had your back, etc.
I have eaten this book up. Its really causing me to think about just what kind of friend i am/have been to others. . and conversely, what kind of friends i have. Of course I sadly see deficiencies on both sides. Len Sweet was one of the keynote speakers at a conference I had the privilege to attend last weekend. I like how he thinks, outside of the box, unconventional yet gracious and godly. I really recommend this one.
Another one i have begun:
"A New Earth - Awakening to Your Life's Purpose" by Eckhart Tolle
A friend loaned this to me. She wanted to see what i thought of it. We've been talking about 'purpose', etc. I'm not too sure about this guy. . he's a "spiritual teacher" who dips into various pools of 'spirituality'. hinduism, buddhism, Christianity, zen, etc. The result is a kind of quasispiritual smorgasboard. A little bit of this and a little taste of that.For me, it can never satisfy. I'm in the 'ego' chapters now and they're actually quite interesting. The author talks about the arising new consciousness, meditation, enlightenment and so on, none of which seems particularly 'new'. . but rather ancient.
I follow Jesus himself. He's very much alive. This distinction puts him in his own category, light years from all other contenders. Other 'teachings' are words left behind, dried up on parchment,stone, manuscript. They can be 'good' but they can never be God. Having THE spiritual master to live with and be in relationship with, I'm not particularly interested in any kind of inferior counsel, but I am interested in dialogue with my friends, so I keep reading. Mr. Tolle does extensively quote and reference Christ. I'm not sure if he does so to have higher sales or because he respects Christ. Regardless, I'll finish it and hopefully my friend and i can have some good discussion at the end. She's been teasing me, saying "I want a book report!"
"11" by Leonard Sweet (11 indispensible relationships you can't be without)
Almost done this one. Here is an excerpt taken from the jacket:
"We all need some friends for the journey. . friends like Barnabas, Nathan, Rhoda, Zacchaeus just to name a few. Eleven of them to be exact. Without these people in your life, you'll miss out on the person you could have been. And without you in their lives, they'll miss out as well."
This book takes people from the Bible and puts them forth as embodied examples of positive character traits. E.g., Jethro was a motivator, Jonathan a true friend, Timothy an heir, Deborah was someone who had your back, etc.
I have eaten this book up. Its really causing me to think about just what kind of friend i am/have been to others. . and conversely, what kind of friends i have. Of course I sadly see deficiencies on both sides. Len Sweet was one of the keynote speakers at a conference I had the privilege to attend last weekend. I like how he thinks, outside of the box, unconventional yet gracious and godly. I really recommend this one.
Another one i have begun:
"A New Earth - Awakening to Your Life's Purpose" by Eckhart Tolle
A friend loaned this to me. She wanted to see what i thought of it. We've been talking about 'purpose', etc. I'm not too sure about this guy. . he's a "spiritual teacher" who dips into various pools of 'spirituality'. hinduism, buddhism, Christianity, zen, etc. The result is a kind of quasispiritual smorgasboard. A little bit of this and a little taste of that.For me, it can never satisfy. I'm in the 'ego' chapters now and they're actually quite interesting. The author talks about the arising new consciousness, meditation, enlightenment and so on, none of which seems particularly 'new'. . but rather ancient.
I follow Jesus himself. He's very much alive. This distinction puts him in his own category, light years from all other contenders. Other 'teachings' are words left behind, dried up on parchment,stone, manuscript. They can be 'good' but they can never be God. Having THE spiritual master to live with and be in relationship with, I'm not particularly interested in any kind of inferior counsel, but I am interested in dialogue with my friends, so I keep reading. Mr. Tolle does extensively quote and reference Christ. I'm not sure if he does so to have higher sales or because he respects Christ. Regardless, I'll finish it and hopefully my friend and i can have some good discussion at the end. She's been teasing me, saying "I want a book report!"
Monday, October 20, 2008
laxity
i think Facebook has stolen my blogging time.
yep, that must be it.
After working on computers all day long at the hospital, checking email and Facebook when i come home . . . i'm pretty much tired of sitting, staring at a terminal and/or keyboarding.
poor excuses allfor not blogging,
yet legitimate.
i'm fighting off a cold and have been plagued with all of its yucky, attendant symptoms.
who doesn't hate catching a cold??
blah.
I fell right off the good nutrition wagon today.
it was ridiculous
and i had been doing so well.
i mean i was in such a mood after supper, i could have just kept shoving in all kinds of junk. I had 3 sqares of chocolate but that did nothing to stop me. I had pretzel sticks, (did i mention 2 cupcakes? i didn't? um, yeah i ate those too - they were small, but covered in twice their weight in ahem, buttercream) I didn't eat much at breakfast or lunch. . which i'm sure is what triggered this crazed feeling of binge-iness this evening. I even ate POTATO CHIPS and i NEVER eat those things!
I blame Rob for the chips.
He bought the stupid bag of "reduced fat" Cape Cods.
I think that was the first bag of those things we've had in this house in YEARS.
geesh. . . i ate some sour jujubes at work this afternoon because they were there. . pathetic.
i go to 'endless buffet land' in Mexico and LOSE weight, thank you, traveler's "indigestion" and now that i'm getting over that finally, i act like i've never seen food before. what is that about??
Deep breath. . .
Its done, and tomorrow's a new day, right?
the jujubes are gone
the cupcakes too
the chips? I'll leave the rest for Rob
the chocolate? maybe padlock the cupboard??
ask mom to stop buying us chocolate. . .
when i was a teenager i looked like a stick version of myself and ate Wunderbars, Harvey's burgers and fries at midnight, McDonald's hot apple pies, Laura Secord mint chocolate bars, banana splits - come to think of it though, i walked everywhere, rollerskated, swam and rode my bike. .
grrrr. . . i'm mad at myself. . I need to evaluate some things. .
yep, that must be it.
After working on computers all day long at the hospital, checking email and Facebook when i come home . . . i'm pretty much tired of sitting, staring at a terminal and/or keyboarding.
poor excuses allfor not blogging,
yet legitimate.
i'm fighting off a cold and have been plagued with all of its yucky, attendant symptoms.
who doesn't hate catching a cold??
blah.
I fell right off the good nutrition wagon today.
it was ridiculous
and i had been doing so well.
i mean i was in such a mood after supper, i could have just kept shoving in all kinds of junk. I had 3 sqares of chocolate but that did nothing to stop me. I had pretzel sticks, (did i mention 2 cupcakes? i didn't? um, yeah i ate those too - they were small, but covered in twice their weight in ahem, buttercream) I didn't eat much at breakfast or lunch. . which i'm sure is what triggered this crazed feeling of binge-iness this evening. I even ate POTATO CHIPS and i NEVER eat those things!
I blame Rob for the chips.
He bought the stupid bag of "reduced fat" Cape Cods.
I think that was the first bag of those things we've had in this house in YEARS.
geesh. . . i ate some sour jujubes at work this afternoon because they were there. . pathetic.
i go to 'endless buffet land' in Mexico and LOSE weight, thank you, traveler's "indigestion" and now that i'm getting over that finally, i act like i've never seen food before. what is that about??
Deep breath. . .
Its done, and tomorrow's a new day, right?
the jujubes are gone
the cupcakes too
the chips? I'll leave the rest for Rob
the chocolate? maybe padlock the cupboard??
ask mom to stop buying us chocolate. . .
when i was a teenager i looked like a stick version of myself and ate Wunderbars, Harvey's burgers and fries at midnight, McDonald's hot apple pies, Laura Secord mint chocolate bars, banana splits - come to think of it though, i walked everywhere, rollerskated, swam and rode my bike. .
grrrr. . . i'm mad at myself. . I need to evaluate some things. .
Saturday, September 20, 2008
i find these amusing. . .
i was thinking today about words and how funny some of them sound.. .
here's a list of some of my favourites:
hootenany
frigate
oxymoron
behoove
effluvium
jujube
itchy
serpiginous
lollygag
buttocks
ninny
tipsy
spastic
woofer (must include tweeter)
dawdle
jalopy
hijinks
numbskull
pansy
wizened
muumuu
brouhaha
goo
here's a list of some of my favourites:
hootenany
frigate
oxymoron
behoove
effluvium
jujube
itchy
serpiginous
lollygag
buttocks
ninny
tipsy
spastic
woofer (must include tweeter)
dawdle
jalopy
hijinks
numbskull
pansy
wizened
muumuu
brouhaha
goo
Monday, September 08, 2008
back again
I've been a very negligent blogger, i know.
sometimes lots of things happen but i don't know how to say them
do you know what i mean?
i feel kind of cut off from my ability to put any words together
sometimes we all get so busy living life, we may not take the time to document the details of the living
I've just eaten a peach and some fresh strawberries. . what a treat.
i'm trying to steer clear of unhealthy choices and enjoy the good for you stuff.
I'm reading a fantastic new book "10 Habits That Mess Up a Woman's Diet". Not the 'die with T' kind of diet, but just what kind of foods you eat, diet. I find it inspiring at this moment in my life, as i contemplate being middle aged and trying to do the best i can to avoid unnecessary negative side effects of aging. . it starts now, baby.. an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
I was talking to a friend tonight over tea and we talked briefly about getting all our news from the computer home page, just reading the headlines and skimming them in order to stay current, without the daily depressing broadcasted details. However, the home page 'news' is often a ridiculous assortment of stuff that passes for news. Pseudo news.
Why?
I'm not sure. . maybe the 'public' keeps this stuff circulating by eating it up with a spoon?
Why do i want to know that Lindsay Lohan kissed a girl and she liked it? is she a lesbian? who cares?!!
Brad and Angelina's twins have colic. . if that is actually true. . this needs world attention? pfftt! my babies both had colic. . big whoop
Baby bump watch - so yeah, apparently celebrities are always getting pregnant!!!
that means they're human, just like us!!!!OMG!! Sure. . we're just like them, with our nannies, chefs, personal trainers and stylists. AND we also go back to spinning and capoeira classes the day after giving birth.
Britney Spears' mother sold our her daughter by writing a tell all? This is unfortunate, not to mention low, but its just one more BS 'news' item, isn't it?
I thought after a bit of a break from the constant BS coverage that maybe they'd just stop. . . now they're off and running with more stuff - sales must need boosting.
Lily Allen told Sir Elton to eff off?! Is it treason to cuss out a knight? I'm not entirely sure who Lily Allen is. .
sigh. . 'news' should be new, none of this crap is new. .
sometimes it seems like there are only these celebrity people in the world and we real people are bombarded by often dubious details of the minutiae of their lives. It would seem that we exist just to be witness to their 'glorious' existence?
again, pffffttt!!!
anyway, i think i'm gonna go read for a bit. . it wasn't a bad Monday, really. My lack of sleep last night after another ridiculous bout of insomnia is beginning to tell at this point in the evening. . so, rest well, children.
good night.
sometimes lots of things happen but i don't know how to say them
do you know what i mean?
i feel kind of cut off from my ability to put any words together
sometimes we all get so busy living life, we may not take the time to document the details of the living
I've just eaten a peach and some fresh strawberries. . what a treat.
i'm trying to steer clear of unhealthy choices and enjoy the good for you stuff.
I'm reading a fantastic new book "10 Habits That Mess Up a Woman's Diet". Not the 'die with T' kind of diet, but just what kind of foods you eat, diet. I find it inspiring at this moment in my life, as i contemplate being middle aged and trying to do the best i can to avoid unnecessary negative side effects of aging. . it starts now, baby.. an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
I was talking to a friend tonight over tea and we talked briefly about getting all our news from the computer home page, just reading the headlines and skimming them in order to stay current, without the daily depressing broadcasted details. However, the home page 'news' is often a ridiculous assortment of stuff that passes for news. Pseudo news.
Why?
I'm not sure. . maybe the 'public' keeps this stuff circulating by eating it up with a spoon?
Why do i want to know that Lindsay Lohan kissed a girl and she liked it? is she a lesbian? who cares?!!
Brad and Angelina's twins have colic. . if that is actually true. . this needs world attention? pfftt! my babies both had colic. . big whoop
Baby bump watch - so yeah, apparently celebrities are always getting pregnant!!!
that means they're human, just like us!!!!OMG!! Sure. . we're just like them, with our nannies, chefs, personal trainers and stylists. AND we also go back to spinning and capoeira classes the day after giving birth.
Britney Spears' mother sold our her daughter by writing a tell all? This is unfortunate, not to mention low, but its just one more BS 'news' item, isn't it?
I thought after a bit of a break from the constant BS coverage that maybe they'd just stop. . . now they're off and running with more stuff - sales must need boosting.
Lily Allen told Sir Elton to eff off?! Is it treason to cuss out a knight? I'm not entirely sure who Lily Allen is. .
sigh. . 'news' should be new, none of this crap is new. .
sometimes it seems like there are only these celebrity people in the world and we real people are bombarded by often dubious details of the minutiae of their lives. It would seem that we exist just to be witness to their 'glorious' existence?
again, pffffttt!!!
anyway, i think i'm gonna go read for a bit. . it wasn't a bad Monday, really. My lack of sleep last night after another ridiculous bout of insomnia is beginning to tell at this point in the evening. . so, rest well, children.
good night.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
on being an emotional creature
its like this. .
feelings run the show for me
i don't always like it
but i can't seem to escape it
they ARE the boss of me!
feelings are bossy things.
they're not very rational
they're fiercely strong
sometimes completely out of control
dragging me along underneath
stinging, smarting and paining
sometimes they fly on notion and impulse
and i hold on for the ride
if they could be embodied, there are days i would hug, kiss and thank them
and days i could scold, smack and even drop kick them.
they take me off course, they waylay and even strand me
they bring me to wonderful emotional places i never want to leave
but they can just as easily leave me in flat desolation and take off without me
and i wonder when they'll come back and make me feel like me again?
feelings run the show for me
i don't always like it
but i can't seem to escape it
they ARE the boss of me!
feelings are bossy things.
they're not very rational
they're fiercely strong
sometimes completely out of control
dragging me along underneath
stinging, smarting and paining
sometimes they fly on notion and impulse
and i hold on for the ride
if they could be embodied, there are days i would hug, kiss and thank them
and days i could scold, smack and even drop kick them.
they take me off course, they waylay and even strand me
they bring me to wonderful emotional places i never want to leave
but they can just as easily leave me in flat desolation and take off without me
and i wonder when they'll come back and make me feel like me again?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
love
i've been thinking lately.
i don't think there is anything that can eclipse love
this force to be reckoned with
but who can reckon with, work out, calculate, think, estimate, or to take it into account?
the whole world runs on love
not gasoline
not money
not commodities. .
i think love wrecks you in the best possible way
wrecks your ego and your selfishness
wrecks your plans
wrecks you for settling for substitutes
substitution leaves a trail of broken souls
its true.
we wrestle with love
and we mistreat and misname love
and we shame love
and we blame love
love is more than we understand
more than we can process with grey matter
more than us
and our travails and our pursuits.
more than our fairy tale notions of what it feels like
looks like, acts like
and more than the roles we assign ourselves in the grand story
there are so many things that its not
and only one that it is . . .
pure
love is bigger than our attempts to contain it
as if we could stop the tides
or embrace the sun.
why do we think we can harness love and
assign it, dispense it like a controlled substance?
to those we deem deserving. . .
like we can handle purity with our filthy paws
and our grimy hearts and not understand that this isn't how love is
love is not a thing to had
love is a being, love is God.
i believe in love because i believe in him.
belief, disbelief? our certainty either way
doesn't change that love is him. . he is it
and he gives it and we take it
and don't see him in the gift
and we manhandle it and pass it around
but we don't give it back to him
and love suffers
we suffer,
cut off from the source
love deteriorates and we don't realize it
or do we?
i think we do.
i live with this longing to know love
to know God
i've squelched this yearning at times on purpose, or simply set it aside
it was like i was wearing blinders or my heart was frozen
where was he? where was i?
nothing made sense.
when i fell in love with my husband, i thought "this is real love" and it really is. but i used to feel like i was living the love songs, the chick flicks, the princess stories. . and i ate it all up and wanted more.
i had tacked this foolish and incomplete notion of love onto my heart
and wondered why it kept falling off and getting all dirty and trampled whenever i felt let down or unappreciated, or when grief or hardship came along
i soon realized that i didn't really have a clue what love was
love is not about gathering beautiful feelings or contentment or warm fuzzies into myself
love is pouring myself out. . not only to those who i know and hold in my heart,
but especially to those i know and don't hold dear. .
and this pains and smarts to do this and it works against my inclinations
i don't really like this
but this is love too
love comes from its source
there is no love apart from him
i have struggled to have this make sense sometimes,
so much talk of love, love, love, love all the time, everywhere, but
what is it really???? certainly not the conditional variety we seem to prefer.
certainly not the insulated, cozy coccoon in which to settle and enjoy, cherishing our tightly-woven relational circles
love is being angry with injustice
love is hurting for those who feel pain
love is seeing into people and appreciating their worth
what would this planet be like if all love was sucked out of the population?
what would happen?
what would emerge to fill the huge vacuum?
chilling.
i'm not sure why its easy to be blithe,
accustomed to
feeling entitled to love?
i've seldom thought so much about it
but as i do lately, i lose my footing and fall out of the notion(s) of what i thought it was and sink into the reality of who love really is
and here i find myself wanting to let go of false and take in true
love
i don't think there is anything that can eclipse love
this force to be reckoned with
but who can reckon with, work out, calculate, think, estimate, or to take it into account?
the whole world runs on love
not gasoline
not money
not commodities. .
i think love wrecks you in the best possible way
wrecks your ego and your selfishness
wrecks your plans
wrecks you for settling for substitutes
substitution leaves a trail of broken souls
its true.
we wrestle with love
and we mistreat and misname love
and we shame love
and we blame love
love is more than we understand
more than we can process with grey matter
more than us
and our travails and our pursuits.
more than our fairy tale notions of what it feels like
looks like, acts like
and more than the roles we assign ourselves in the grand story
there are so many things that its not
and only one that it is . . .
pure
love is bigger than our attempts to contain it
as if we could stop the tides
or embrace the sun.
why do we think we can harness love and
assign it, dispense it like a controlled substance?
to those we deem deserving. . .
like we can handle purity with our filthy paws
and our grimy hearts and not understand that this isn't how love is
love is not a thing to had
love is a being, love is God.
i believe in love because i believe in him.
belief, disbelief? our certainty either way
doesn't change that love is him. . he is it
and he gives it and we take it
and don't see him in the gift
and we manhandle it and pass it around
but we don't give it back to him
and love suffers
we suffer,
cut off from the source
love deteriorates and we don't realize it
or do we?
i think we do.
i live with this longing to know love
to know God
i've squelched this yearning at times on purpose, or simply set it aside
it was like i was wearing blinders or my heart was frozen
where was he? where was i?
nothing made sense.
when i fell in love with my husband, i thought "this is real love" and it really is. but i used to feel like i was living the love songs, the chick flicks, the princess stories. . and i ate it all up and wanted more.
i had tacked this foolish and incomplete notion of love onto my heart
and wondered why it kept falling off and getting all dirty and trampled whenever i felt let down or unappreciated, or when grief or hardship came along
i soon realized that i didn't really have a clue what love was
love is not about gathering beautiful feelings or contentment or warm fuzzies into myself
love is pouring myself out. . not only to those who i know and hold in my heart,
but especially to those i know and don't hold dear. .
and this pains and smarts to do this and it works against my inclinations
i don't really like this
but this is love too
love comes from its source
there is no love apart from him
i have struggled to have this make sense sometimes,
so much talk of love, love, love, love all the time, everywhere, but
what is it really???? certainly not the conditional variety we seem to prefer.
certainly not the insulated, cozy coccoon in which to settle and enjoy, cherishing our tightly-woven relational circles
love is being angry with injustice
love is hurting for those who feel pain
love is seeing into people and appreciating their worth
what would this planet be like if all love was sucked out of the population?
what would happen?
what would emerge to fill the huge vacuum?
chilling.
i'm not sure why its easy to be blithe,
accustomed to
feeling entitled to love?
i've seldom thought so much about it
but as i do lately, i lose my footing and fall out of the notion(s) of what i thought it was and sink into the reality of who love really is
and here i find myself wanting to let go of false and take in true
love
Monday, July 07, 2008
intimate and interactive
rethinking 'intimate' is on my mind lately
not because i'm averse to the commonly held notion of intimacy
not that its wrong
intimate is good. . but its more than
we think it is.
I want to expand that concept to be
inclusive
i want to push out that 'personal space' to make some room
i don't want to shrink from
being close
i want to reorder my thoughts, my heart
i want to be new
with old wisdom
that leads me
to the place of intimacy
like its meant to be
not how its always been perceived or practiced
i think 'intimacy' is misunderstood, even misrepresented.
people can be intimate, close, even adoring
but always there will be
some sort of division
some sort of withholding
no matter how 'big' we say we love
there is always a smallness to it
and a taint of self.
the things love requires,
we don't have the stomach for.
surrender
submission
we can warm up to the perverse interpretations
we give those two words
that just comes naturally.
but i'm thinking of the deeper, spiritual surrender and submission
of coming to know how to
let go
of self
and be given over to the one,
and there is only one and no other,
who knew your name before your parents conceived you
who saw your forming body
who gave you unique fingerprints
who set your heart muscle into life-giving rhythm
who numbered the hairs on your head
who remembers every moment you don't
who knows the pre-formed words in your mind before they are spoken
who knows all that lives within even the darkest recesses of your heart
and who doesn't push back and turn his head?
what lovers' kiss could be more intimate
than God breathing life into your unseeable and untouchable inner self?
can there be more intimate connection than being loved by someone without reservation
or cut off point?
this is what i want
nothing else
human intimacy waxes and wanes
it runs hot and cold
its incomplete,
lacking, even in its glory,
for it often is glorious --
it blanches and pales
when held up to the light of Him
vulnerable.
so leery of letting down our guard
people don't like to be vulnerable
harm comes to the weak
and weakness can feel shameful to us
Intimacy brings us to
vulnerability.
But we can appear vulnerable and not be.
sometimes we want to hide from being intimate
i guess its the risk
it can be too costly.
We may play games with each other,
but how can we escape intimacy
from the one who can't be played?
how can we lie to one who can't be duped?
can't
do
it.
even the illusion
of trying is pointless
that's life without true intimacy.. .
the illusion of pointlessly trying to evade and
run away from the kind of intimacy we crave
yet fear.
the position of
having no position, no defense --
that's real intimacy.
being viewed
in the searchlight of God
with no leg to stand on,
no excuse
flattened in surrender
knowing you deserve the worst
and being embraced
to be intimate is to choose to be.
choose the degree.
choose the intensity.
choose illusion or truth
but choose.
If intimacy was your home
who would be left on the step and who would be let in?
and how 'in' are they allowed?
are there bars on the windows?
a sawed off hockey stick in the sliding door?
dead bolts?
alarm system?
not because i'm averse to the commonly held notion of intimacy
not that its wrong
intimate is good. . but its more than
we think it is.
I want to expand that concept to be
inclusive
i want to push out that 'personal space' to make some room
i don't want to shrink from
being close
i want to reorder my thoughts, my heart
i want to be new
with old wisdom
that leads me
to the place of intimacy
like its meant to be
not how its always been perceived or practiced
i think 'intimacy' is misunderstood, even misrepresented.
people can be intimate, close, even adoring
but always there will be
some sort of division
some sort of withholding
no matter how 'big' we say we love
there is always a smallness to it
and a taint of self.
the things love requires,
we don't have the stomach for.
surrender
submission
we can warm up to the perverse interpretations
we give those two words
that just comes naturally.
but i'm thinking of the deeper, spiritual surrender and submission
of coming to know how to
let go
of self
and be given over to the one,
and there is only one and no other,
who knew your name before your parents conceived you
who saw your forming body
who gave you unique fingerprints
who set your heart muscle into life-giving rhythm
who numbered the hairs on your head
who remembers every moment you don't
who knows the pre-formed words in your mind before they are spoken
who knows all that lives within even the darkest recesses of your heart
and who doesn't push back and turn his head?
what lovers' kiss could be more intimate
than God breathing life into your unseeable and untouchable inner self?
can there be more intimate connection than being loved by someone without reservation
or cut off point?
this is what i want
nothing else
human intimacy waxes and wanes
it runs hot and cold
its incomplete,
lacking, even in its glory,
for it often is glorious --
it blanches and pales
when held up to the light of Him
vulnerable.
so leery of letting down our guard
people don't like to be vulnerable
harm comes to the weak
and weakness can feel shameful to us
Intimacy brings us to
vulnerability.
But we can appear vulnerable and not be.
sometimes we want to hide from being intimate
i guess its the risk
it can be too costly.
We may play games with each other,
but how can we escape intimacy
from the one who can't be played?
how can we lie to one who can't be duped?
can't
do
it.
even the illusion
of trying is pointless
that's life without true intimacy.. .
the illusion of pointlessly trying to evade and
run away from the kind of intimacy we crave
yet fear.
the position of
having no position, no defense --
that's real intimacy.
being viewed
in the searchlight of God
with no leg to stand on,
no excuse
flattened in surrender
knowing you deserve the worst
and being embraced
to be intimate is to choose to be.
choose the degree.
choose the intensity.
choose illusion or truth
but choose.
If intimacy was your home
who would be left on the step and who would be let in?
and how 'in' are they allowed?
are there bars on the windows?
a sawed off hockey stick in the sliding door?
dead bolts?
alarm system?
Saturday, June 21, 2008
learning curve
learning is so much easier for children
adults have a much harder job of it
there's a lot we have to unlearn in order to learn
there are obstacles that must be removed
we've worked so hard to get here -
the place of knowing
we've have had decades to become set,
like cement
nothing sinks in.
nothing short of a jackhammer can break up that concrete
noisy mess
destruction
removal of what was known
being in the place of unknown
relearning
feeling unwise, humble and small
hopeful
adults have a much harder job of it
there's a lot we have to unlearn in order to learn
there are obstacles that must be removed
we've worked so hard to get here -
the place of knowing
we've have had decades to become set,
like cement
nothing sinks in.
nothing short of a jackhammer can break up that concrete
noisy mess
destruction
removal of what was known
being in the place of unknown
relearning
feeling unwise, humble and small
hopeful
Sunday, June 08, 2008
do you ever wish?
i suppose its possible for people to go the whole span of their lives
without ever seeing anything truly fantastic
and i also suppose it depends entirely upon your definition of 'fantastic'
i'm inclined to think that there is so much fantastic going through us
and past and around us every day
and we are unaware
we are.
i often fail to notice the spectacular, especially when daily routine throws a cloaking device
over marvels and mysteries.
i miss things
when i take so much for granted the way i do
simple things that used to boggle my mind, but no longer seem to. . .
what is grass made of? i don't mean the breakdown of elements and such
but i want to know where did the elements come from? and how, together, do they make a blade of grass?
how is a grouping of rapidly dividing cells able to form a person?
i've read all about the particulars of cellular mitosis and division
and time tables of when and how and amniotic fluid and blood supply
but how are the cells given their widsom to do these things?
how does the soul/spirit permeate a developing human?
and how does it separate from the body with that last breath?
these things are fantastic.
mysterious
but somehow, i can only see grass and babies
these are miracles
they are things we could never replicate
or duplicate
computers are intricate servants
we have created
with chips and glass and wires
running the world now.
how fantastically frightening and thrilling
and yet sometimes all i see is keyboards and monitors
i hear about RAM and bits and bites and binary code
and i'm not amazed
am i crazy?
once we become familiar with something
we lose our wonder
looking for the bigger fix
i watched a movie last night
adventure
exotic places
amazing natural wonders
far-fetched and extreme situations
and i thought to myself:
"When have i ever seen or experienced anything so colossal?"
and i answered myself. . . "never"
and i'm sure everyone else in that theatre would say the same
which is why we were all there
vicarious bunch.
drinking in stories, true or not
with endless thirst for more
more amazement
more fantasy
to escape reality?
or to point to our destiny?
do you ever wish to be amazed?
astounded? shaken from the mundane?
i do. .
but i've begun to realize that perhaps i have been
and didn't even know it
without ever seeing anything truly fantastic
and i also suppose it depends entirely upon your definition of 'fantastic'
i'm inclined to think that there is so much fantastic going through us
and past and around us every day
and we are unaware
we are.
i often fail to notice the spectacular, especially when daily routine throws a cloaking device
over marvels and mysteries.
i miss things
when i take so much for granted the way i do
simple things that used to boggle my mind, but no longer seem to. . .
what is grass made of? i don't mean the breakdown of elements and such
but i want to know where did the elements come from? and how, together, do they make a blade of grass?
how is a grouping of rapidly dividing cells able to form a person?
i've read all about the particulars of cellular mitosis and division
and time tables of when and how and amniotic fluid and blood supply
but how are the cells given their widsom to do these things?
how does the soul/spirit permeate a developing human?
and how does it separate from the body with that last breath?
these things are fantastic.
mysterious
but somehow, i can only see grass and babies
these are miracles
they are things we could never replicate
or duplicate
computers are intricate servants
we have created
with chips and glass and wires
running the world now.
how fantastically frightening and thrilling
and yet sometimes all i see is keyboards and monitors
i hear about RAM and bits and bites and binary code
and i'm not amazed
am i crazy?
once we become familiar with something
we lose our wonder
looking for the bigger fix
i watched a movie last night
adventure
exotic places
amazing natural wonders
far-fetched and extreme situations
and i thought to myself:
"When have i ever seen or experienced anything so colossal?"
and i answered myself. . . "never"
and i'm sure everyone else in that theatre would say the same
which is why we were all there
vicarious bunch.
drinking in stories, true or not
with endless thirst for more
more amazement
more fantasy
to escape reality?
or to point to our destiny?
do you ever wish to be amazed?
astounded? shaken from the mundane?
i do. .
but i've begun to realize that perhaps i have been
and didn't even know it
Monday, June 02, 2008
puzzling
some things exist but i really wonder why
i've been making a mental list and it goes like this:
Cheez Whiz
processed 'cheese food' / aka 'heart attack in a jar' WHY?! (goopy garbage!)
ditto for 'pork rinds'. . . yuck. What area of the 'rind' do these come from?? snout? 'nether regions'? gah.
back hair -- strange phenomenon, that is
centipedes -- these are not only crawly and gross to look at, but they're lightning fast and that makes them even scarier. . I cannot help screaming every time i see one
pale blue eyeshadow (this doesn't look very good on anyone)
pleather - sausage casing for humans,
vegemite??? spreadable brewing byproduct. .brown, yeasty and certainly nasty
plumber's butt?! ugh, this is gross
unsynchronized traffic lights -- stop, start. . drive one block, stop again and repeat and repeat
chocolate-flavoured 'baking chips'?! these are an abomination
right up there with artificial flavour extracts. .
'greenlawn' services calling our house every night at supper (thank God for call display!!) wouldn't they get the hint after several months of no one answering their call?
tapered leg, light denim 'mom' jeans??!! i'm seeing too many of these out there, people.
President's Choice "Chipotle Smokies Sausages" with 22 grams of fat per 100 gram sausage (BAD things come in small packages) boourns to Galen Weston for that craptastic fat content
"Just One Drop" 'bathroom product'.. "Just a drop before you 'go' eliminates embarrassing odour." Now there will be potentially millions of people out there whose 'sh#$ don't stink', literally. This seems oddly pleasing, doesn't it?
So this one doesn't really count.
shorts -- knobby knees, white skin, bandy legs and a whole lotta skin surface area that usually doesn't need to be shown - maybe they should only be worn by athletes and people with fantastic legs? (shorts frighten me!)
"Kraft Dinner". . . this stuff bites. Tiny, little insignificant tubes of pasta with that little sachet of freeze dried, powdered 'cheesy dust' your pour into the pot along with milk and butter. How do i hate thee, KD? let me count the ways. . to infinity and way beyond.
canned beets -- i have distant, childhood memories of these stinkers. I've never tried anything beety since.. can't seem to work up the courage
toilet paper rolls that won't 'start'. . . i've fought too many battles with these things, ended up with strips and shreds instead of squares.
shiny, shampoo add hair. . why don't i see this on anybody except the shampoo commercial models? Are they all wearing glossy wigs???! where can i get one?!!!
i've been making a mental list and it goes like this:
Cheez Whiz
processed 'cheese food' / aka 'heart attack in a jar' WHY?! (goopy garbage!)
ditto for 'pork rinds'. . . yuck. What area of the 'rind' do these come from?? snout? 'nether regions'? gah.
back hair -- strange phenomenon, that is
centipedes -- these are not only crawly and gross to look at, but they're lightning fast and that makes them even scarier. . I cannot help screaming every time i see one
pale blue eyeshadow (this doesn't look very good on anyone)
pleather - sausage casing for humans,
vegemite??? spreadable brewing byproduct. .brown, yeasty and certainly nasty
plumber's butt?! ugh, this is gross
unsynchronized traffic lights -- stop, start. . drive one block, stop again and repeat and repeat
chocolate-flavoured 'baking chips'?! these are an abomination
right up there with artificial flavour extracts. .
'greenlawn' services calling our house every night at supper (thank God for call display!!) wouldn't they get the hint after several months of no one answering their call?
tapered leg, light denim 'mom' jeans??!! i'm seeing too many of these out there, people.
President's Choice "Chipotle Smokies Sausages" with 22 grams of fat per 100 gram sausage (BAD things come in small packages) boourns to Galen Weston for that craptastic fat content
"Just One Drop" 'bathroom product'.. "Just a drop before you 'go' eliminates embarrassing odour." Now there will be potentially millions of people out there whose 'sh#$ don't stink', literally. This seems oddly pleasing, doesn't it?
So this one doesn't really count.
shorts -- knobby knees, white skin, bandy legs and a whole lotta skin surface area that usually doesn't need to be shown - maybe they should only be worn by athletes and people with fantastic legs? (shorts frighten me!)
"Kraft Dinner". . . this stuff bites. Tiny, little insignificant tubes of pasta with that little sachet of freeze dried, powdered 'cheesy dust' your pour into the pot along with milk and butter. How do i hate thee, KD? let me count the ways. . to infinity and way beyond.
canned beets -- i have distant, childhood memories of these stinkers. I've never tried anything beety since.. can't seem to work up the courage
toilet paper rolls that won't 'start'. . . i've fought too many battles with these things, ended up with strips and shreds instead of squares.
shiny, shampoo add hair. . why don't i see this on anybody except the shampoo commercial models? Are they all wearing glossy wigs???! where can i get one?!!!
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