Light squeezes through vivid stained glass dioramas
candles dot the darkness
limbs spread out on a sea of carpet
pews lining the horizon
order and chaos combined
silence ushers in the reality behind the veil
violin and piano break the silence...
gently, soothing...
bringing clarity
pure and simple, her voice leads us into melody
weaving in and out of this mass
every age and color, melding into one
around the foot of the cross
we grasp it's edge, bow our head
weep or reflect or cry out
and thus unify
as one people
returning to their source
recieving the mystery of hope
Friday, June 09, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
six feet under
Maybe it's too soon to speak because I am only on Season Two of "Six Feet Under" (I realize I'm way behind from those who watched it while it was actually out - the series just ended). But it is stirring me in so many ways just from these first two seasons alone.
It is dark, macabre (what with the setting a funeral home and constant death the backdrop), gritty, intense, dealing with the toughest issues of life... and it is inspiring, hopeful, challenging, revealing, awakening.
I think that is the best word to describe the experience of watching it: it feels like an awakening. As the characters awaken from slumber, secrecy, silence, imprisonment in their own minds, so do you, the viewer. It explores dark, dusty areas, bringing them out into the light. It's like a wake-up call to impending death, appreciating all you have right now, examining how you want to live out your remaining days before they're gone. It inspires you to say things you haven't said to those closest to you (and thus often farthest from you). It illuminates the sincere desire of family members to connect and love each other and all the obstacles leaving them feeling misunderstood by one another. With the writer of the show authoring the screenplay for "American Beauty" (not my favorite but still thought-provoking - think that level of grittiness for the content of "Six Feet"), you can see parallels in the subject matter intensity and high level of honesty. No place is off limits and the show goes there: the afterlife, faith, religion, death, birth, love, sex, addiction, loneliness, secrets, release.
Francis Conroy is incredible as the mother... a bundle of conservatism, repression, denial and yet intense, passionate longing for love and connection, for openness with her adult children. In some ways, they see her attempts at becoming open as 'too little too late', or even as humorous. She invokes feelings of pity and compassion, while being completely relatable. A truly multi-layered, complex performance. She's heartbreaking and beautiful; you celebrate every moment of awakening with her, wanting her children to see her for who she is, yet understanding why they do not.
David's struggle with "coming out" as a homosexual, intense loneliness and a similar (to his mother) repression of feeling, anger, doubt and emotion, is like watching a constantly open wound, and is similarly awkward and painful. Sometimes you want to shake him awake as his movement is slow with as many (or more) steps back as forward. But there is empathy for his journey and some of the deepest inspiration of the show thus far in his moments of crying out to God. realizing how God sees him as opposed to the self-loathing with which he looks at himself. This makes his forays into meaningless sex and trying to cover his loneliness all the more pathetically sad. It's the most honest journey dealing with loneliness and homosexuality I've ever seen portrayed in film or TV by far.
My favorite has to be Nate. He is the (anti) hero, the solid rock, a bundle of passion and a carpe diem spirit. Of course, he's likewise flawed, volatile, angry and as of yet not revealing undealt with past issues... but he's in many ways the instigator of much of the awakening in the family. Their dad's death (in the pilot episode) is the initial instigator, though everyone but Nate 'deals' with it by denial and control of emotion. Though his outbursts are frequent, you can't help but feel it's healthier to feel what you feel as he does as opposed to the repression common in the Fisher family. Still, you see his own areas of hiddeness as time goes on. Everyone has their own secret world, even the most vocal. When Nate moves home, changes his life, committing to his family whom he was running away from before, it gave me this incredible sense of possibility and rebirth. I sense Nate cannot continue on as he is without reaching a breaking point.
Illeana Douglass expresses (in her wonderfully hilarious, poignant guest star appearance) that there is so much sadness in their home. It's buried deep and yet so is the potential for the truest love. I am rooting for a more full awakening for the Fishers, even as I do for my own family... and myself. I certainly relate to Nate as he must explode and live from his heart even when imperfect and his fervor is not reciprocated. Of course, I am also like him in that I have my own "secrets", not maybe literal secrets that I can name, but areas where my hidden 'demons' wrestle and fight, or my deepest passions bubble to the point of eruption. Places no one sees or can comfort.
The journey of this show is beautiful, heartbreaking, frustrating and hopeful. Like life. Like growing up. Like realizing the flaws and imperfections in your family and your favorite things. Like re-awakening from this disappointment to realize they are also as beautiful as you hoped. Like knowing that family are the people, the only people, who will always truly love you... no matter what.
May there be a way to break down walls one by one so that the purity of our hearts' desire leads the way, rather than our fears, shame and misunderstandings. May the barriers and secrecy that hold us back and keep us in bondage fall away, opening the floodgates. I don't feel this now but I am asking for it just the same. May Dan and I (our family), already characterized by pure openness, raw honesty and a profound tenderness, continue in truth and not veer from that path.
"When you grow up, you have to give yourself away. Sometimes you give your life all in a moment, but mostly you have to give yourself away laboring one minute at a time." Gaborn Val Orden
It is dark, macabre (what with the setting a funeral home and constant death the backdrop), gritty, intense, dealing with the toughest issues of life... and it is inspiring, hopeful, challenging, revealing, awakening.
I think that is the best word to describe the experience of watching it: it feels like an awakening. As the characters awaken from slumber, secrecy, silence, imprisonment in their own minds, so do you, the viewer. It explores dark, dusty areas, bringing them out into the light. It's like a wake-up call to impending death, appreciating all you have right now, examining how you want to live out your remaining days before they're gone. It inspires you to say things you haven't said to those closest to you (and thus often farthest from you). It illuminates the sincere desire of family members to connect and love each other and all the obstacles leaving them feeling misunderstood by one another. With the writer of the show authoring the screenplay for "American Beauty" (not my favorite but still thought-provoking - think that level of grittiness for the content of "Six Feet"), you can see parallels in the subject matter intensity and high level of honesty. No place is off limits and the show goes there: the afterlife, faith, religion, death, birth, love, sex, addiction, loneliness, secrets, release.
Francis Conroy is incredible as the mother... a bundle of conservatism, repression, denial and yet intense, passionate longing for love and connection, for openness with her adult children. In some ways, they see her attempts at becoming open as 'too little too late', or even as humorous. She invokes feelings of pity and compassion, while being completely relatable. A truly multi-layered, complex performance. She's heartbreaking and beautiful; you celebrate every moment of awakening with her, wanting her children to see her for who she is, yet understanding why they do not.
David's struggle with "coming out" as a homosexual, intense loneliness and a similar (to his mother) repression of feeling, anger, doubt and emotion, is like watching a constantly open wound, and is similarly awkward and painful. Sometimes you want to shake him awake as his movement is slow with as many (or more) steps back as forward. But there is empathy for his journey and some of the deepest inspiration of the show thus far in his moments of crying out to God. realizing how God sees him as opposed to the self-loathing with which he looks at himself. This makes his forays into meaningless sex and trying to cover his loneliness all the more pathetically sad. It's the most honest journey dealing with loneliness and homosexuality I've ever seen portrayed in film or TV by far.
My favorite has to be Nate. He is the (anti) hero, the solid rock, a bundle of passion and a carpe diem spirit. Of course, he's likewise flawed, volatile, angry and as of yet not revealing undealt with past issues... but he's in many ways the instigator of much of the awakening in the family. Their dad's death (in the pilot episode) is the initial instigator, though everyone but Nate 'deals' with it by denial and control of emotion. Though his outbursts are frequent, you can't help but feel it's healthier to feel what you feel as he does as opposed to the repression common in the Fisher family. Still, you see his own areas of hiddeness as time goes on. Everyone has their own secret world, even the most vocal. When Nate moves home, changes his life, committing to his family whom he was running away from before, it gave me this incredible sense of possibility and rebirth. I sense Nate cannot continue on as he is without reaching a breaking point.
Illeana Douglass expresses (in her wonderfully hilarious, poignant guest star appearance) that there is so much sadness in their home. It's buried deep and yet so is the potential for the truest love. I am rooting for a more full awakening for the Fishers, even as I do for my own family... and myself. I certainly relate to Nate as he must explode and live from his heart even when imperfect and his fervor is not reciprocated. Of course, I am also like him in that I have my own "secrets", not maybe literal secrets that I can name, but areas where my hidden 'demons' wrestle and fight, or my deepest passions bubble to the point of eruption. Places no one sees or can comfort.
The journey of this show is beautiful, heartbreaking, frustrating and hopeful. Like life. Like growing up. Like realizing the flaws and imperfections in your family and your favorite things. Like re-awakening from this disappointment to realize they are also as beautiful as you hoped. Like knowing that family are the people, the only people, who will always truly love you... no matter what.
May there be a way to break down walls one by one so that the purity of our hearts' desire leads the way, rather than our fears, shame and misunderstandings. May the barriers and secrecy that hold us back and keep us in bondage fall away, opening the floodgates. I don't feel this now but I am asking for it just the same. May Dan and I (our family), already characterized by pure openness, raw honesty and a profound tenderness, continue in truth and not veer from that path.
"When you grow up, you have to give yourself away. Sometimes you give your life all in a moment, but mostly you have to give yourself away laboring one minute at a time." Gaborn Val Orden
Thursday, April 27, 2006
i can't take it in
"Can't Take It In" - Imogen Heap
"Wunderkind" - Alanis Morissette
"Into the West" - Annie Lennox
my anthems this year. this year of change. of new decades and new horizons. of my girlhood and adulthood juxtaposed. death nearer. sadness infinitely more intense for the brevity of life. i feel that. longing and wonder... as intensely as ever.
i just danced wildy around the living room in the dark. felt the freedom. the rug soft under my feet. trying not to rouse the neighbors below but ultimately not caring. was completely out of breath after three songs.
moved to the fire escape for fresh air. the sun had long set but there was still that glow in the west, vivid degrees of blue coating the sky, common at this most magical hour of night. i played "wunderkind" and "can't take it in" from the living room, wafting out the window to my fire escape platform - my vista to the world. the living room glowed warmly with one candle inside, looking as inviting as a secret cottage found suddenly in the woods with a fire, slippers and tea ready after you've danced with the faeries.
but i remained outside with the invigorating breeze blowing my skirt up, the varying blues seeping into me, melding with my spirit. knowing i am the 'joan of arc', that 'groundbreaker', "destined to reign, destined to roam..."
claiming that promise of my youth that feels like a joke when examining my capabilities, but not when i realize God is still the same as s/he ever was. and this means... it is all true!!?!! i can hardly believe the beauteous mystery of the creator of my youth is IT. reality. the real reality. behind the thin veil i can see through any moment i stop and breathe. "i can't take it in..."
the stars began to peek out. the blues richening. fog dotting the peaks. the tower flashing comfortingly. then... "into the west" drifts through the air... and i weep. weeping with a smile. with joyous knowing. with surety that "the white gulls will call" and the "ship will come to carry me home." oh, that this beauty is but a hint. i tingle, i thrill, i shiver with the possibility of more in the afterlife.
then an old anthem from my early twenties: "only if" - enya. "for the promises, there is the sky/ and for the heavens are those who can fly... when there's a journey, you follow the sun/ when there is love and you reach for the one/ and for the broken heart, there is the sky/ and for tomorrow are those who can fly... if you really want to, you can seize the day/ only if you want to, will you fly away..."
still mine. is it true? has it been true all along? "when there is love and you reach for the one..." since the days i would listen incessantly to this song, "the one" has come. my most deepest of dreams came true... what else lies ahead? i can't take it in.
these songs, the soundtrack of my life. past and present. evolving. new. yet the same. a constant thread. i can feel the ocean over the hills. can't see it. but know it's there. and that is enough.
i come in from the magic of outdoors to the glowing cottage of home. one last song. "lazy days" - enya. not so much the lyrics but the music. it somehow returns me to carefree days of childhood. i soar. i remember that night over five years ago in LA when i pirouetted alone like a passion-filled ballerina in the dark to this song. it takes me there again and i think i shall go and dance more. now. because i believe. ____________________________________________________
are you ready to come with me?
to stop a moment in the intensity of our days and look at those varying shades of blue in the twilight sky?
to take in the fresh breeze?
to reflect on fog or cloud whisp dotting the sunset?
to hear a strain of music and let the notes overtake you with ecstasy?
let us peek behind the veil together. like lucy, walking through the fur coats in a plain, unromantic, confining wardrobe, suddenly finding ourselves beyond...
in the place we hoped against hope for. didn't believe in. cursed the thought of - too painful to contemplate. but that deep down inside we knew was there all along.
"Wunderkind" - Alanis Morissette
"Into the West" - Annie Lennox
my anthems this year. this year of change. of new decades and new horizons. of my girlhood and adulthood juxtaposed. death nearer. sadness infinitely more intense for the brevity of life. i feel that. longing and wonder... as intensely as ever.
i just danced wildy around the living room in the dark. felt the freedom. the rug soft under my feet. trying not to rouse the neighbors below but ultimately not caring. was completely out of breath after three songs.
moved to the fire escape for fresh air. the sun had long set but there was still that glow in the west, vivid degrees of blue coating the sky, common at this most magical hour of night. i played "wunderkind" and "can't take it in" from the living room, wafting out the window to my fire escape platform - my vista to the world. the living room glowed warmly with one candle inside, looking as inviting as a secret cottage found suddenly in the woods with a fire, slippers and tea ready after you've danced with the faeries.
but i remained outside with the invigorating breeze blowing my skirt up, the varying blues seeping into me, melding with my spirit. knowing i am the 'joan of arc', that 'groundbreaker', "destined to reign, destined to roam..."
claiming that promise of my youth that feels like a joke when examining my capabilities, but not when i realize God is still the same as s/he ever was. and this means... it is all true!!?!! i can hardly believe the beauteous mystery of the creator of my youth is IT. reality. the real reality. behind the thin veil i can see through any moment i stop and breathe. "i can't take it in..."
the stars began to peek out. the blues richening. fog dotting the peaks. the tower flashing comfortingly. then... "into the west" drifts through the air... and i weep. weeping with a smile. with joyous knowing. with surety that "the white gulls will call" and the "ship will come to carry me home." oh, that this beauty is but a hint. i tingle, i thrill, i shiver with the possibility of more in the afterlife.
then an old anthem from my early twenties: "only if" - enya. "for the promises, there is the sky/ and for the heavens are those who can fly... when there's a journey, you follow the sun/ when there is love and you reach for the one/ and for the broken heart, there is the sky/ and for tomorrow are those who can fly... if you really want to, you can seize the day/ only if you want to, will you fly away..."
still mine. is it true? has it been true all along? "when there is love and you reach for the one..." since the days i would listen incessantly to this song, "the one" has come. my most deepest of dreams came true... what else lies ahead? i can't take it in.
these songs, the soundtrack of my life. past and present. evolving. new. yet the same. a constant thread. i can feel the ocean over the hills. can't see it. but know it's there. and that is enough.
i come in from the magic of outdoors to the glowing cottage of home. one last song. "lazy days" - enya. not so much the lyrics but the music. it somehow returns me to carefree days of childhood. i soar. i remember that night over five years ago in LA when i pirouetted alone like a passion-filled ballerina in the dark to this song. it takes me there again and i think i shall go and dance more. now. because i believe. ____________________________________________________
are you ready to come with me?
to stop a moment in the intensity of our days and look at those varying shades of blue in the twilight sky?
to take in the fresh breeze?
to reflect on fog or cloud whisp dotting the sunset?
to hear a strain of music and let the notes overtake you with ecstasy?
let us peek behind the veil together. like lucy, walking through the fur coats in a plain, unromantic, confining wardrobe, suddenly finding ourselves beyond...
in the place we hoped against hope for. didn't believe in. cursed the thought of - too painful to contemplate. but that deep down inside we knew was there all along.
Friday, April 14, 2006
rebirth
I am too tired to write. I want a nap. I love the breeze. I love Noe. The quiet (but for the occasional bus or train) corner of church and 30th. The coziness and intimacy of this city hood. I love my life.
I am working through issues. Fearful. Held back when I really want to break forth with passion. I peek out oft times, releasing just a bit of what wells up inside. I am not without fervor. But I have SO much more where that came from ... a world of fire to release.
If only I could see to the other side of this struggle and be there: At peace in my mind. No longer beating myself up, wishing I did or didn’t say things. Wishing I was bold enough to take the world by storm. In many ways, I am and I have. But this woman is ready for MORE.
It is time, I sense. Time for the part that got left behind. Time for a holistic return to my true self: to my girlhood audacity, my constant childhood state of wild creativity, my wholehearted, genuine intention and trust in others ... with the wisdom of an adult who see the world as it is, has fears and yet trusts just the same. Rises above to see the God who holds her and everyone together.
May I be the woman who holds beauty and pain tenderly in her palms, building sand castles with failure, skipping through fields with imperfection, soaring on waves with incompleteness. Making her home with freedom ... and allowing others to find the same in their own strange way.
I celebrate you, life, because even when I think I have reached stagnation or hoplessness, you turn around and surprise me with growth, newness, possibility and the promise of rebirth after every death.
I am working through issues. Fearful. Held back when I really want to break forth with passion. I peek out oft times, releasing just a bit of what wells up inside. I am not without fervor. But I have SO much more where that came from ... a world of fire to release.
If only I could see to the other side of this struggle and be there: At peace in my mind. No longer beating myself up, wishing I did or didn’t say things. Wishing I was bold enough to take the world by storm. In many ways, I am and I have. But this woman is ready for MORE.
It is time, I sense. Time for the part that got left behind. Time for a holistic return to my true self: to my girlhood audacity, my constant childhood state of wild creativity, my wholehearted, genuine intention and trust in others ... with the wisdom of an adult who see the world as it is, has fears and yet trusts just the same. Rises above to see the God who holds her and everyone together.
May I be the woman who holds beauty and pain tenderly in her palms, building sand castles with failure, skipping through fields with imperfection, soaring on waves with incompleteness. Making her home with freedom ... and allowing others to find the same in their own strange way.
I celebrate you, life, because even when I think I have reached stagnation or hoplessness, you turn around and surprise me with growth, newness, possibility and the promise of rebirth after every death.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Springtime Prayer
A poem of beauty shared with me recently (I did not write it, though wish I did):
A Springtime Prayer
We look down on all that is
Broken, stifled, worn
And see the huddled embryonic seed
Afraid of letting go
Unable to become
Until . . .
The sky opens
The rain soaks the waiting earth
The sun warms the possibilities within
And we see once again
That which feels new each year
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
The Sun looks on us with conviction
We are not meant for barrenness
That was only preparation
Our names are lush, verdant, growing
Our spirits push out
Away from these earthen caskets
We reach
We blossom
We drink the rain
And claim the Sun's rays for our lives
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
Our strength surprises us
Growing in shadows
Winding between the weeds
Nothing can stop our becoming for
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
A Springtime Prayer
We look down on all that is
Broken, stifled, worn
And see the huddled embryonic seed
Afraid of letting go
Unable to become
Until . . .
The sky opens
The rain soaks the waiting earth
The sun warms the possibilities within
And we see once again
That which feels new each year
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
The Sun looks on us with conviction
We are not meant for barrenness
That was only preparation
Our names are lush, verdant, growing
Our spirits push out
Away from these earthen caskets
We reach
We blossom
We drink the rain
And claim the Sun's rays for our lives
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
Our strength surprises us
Growing in shadows
Winding between the weeds
Nothing can stop our becoming for
The entire earth proclaims
Our resurrection!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Brewing
I dreamt last night I was in a car driving all over my city of San Fran with really bad brakes... I couldn't stop at the bottom of the hills and was cruising around at alarming speeds. It seemed so real, I actually cringed when Dan & I were driving to work this morning and he stepped on the brakes.
We talked about what it could mean and immediately I said I felt as if my life is speeding ahead of me and I can't put on the brakes. I don't really want to, I suppose, but I feel as if things are swirling around me in thrilling mayhem and I can't quite grasp what is happening. It's not too busy: that's not it at all. It's steady, but well paced... better paced than ever before; full, but with things we love and have decided we want to commit to. We have weeded out a lot of superfluous activities and feel excited about everything we are involved in right now.
Despite this noticeable sense we both have this year, I feel such a mixture of expectation and fear, apathy and excitement. What will win out? Marriage is the greatest gift of my life and I am overwhelmed not only by the tenderness and passion of our love, but by how our calling and life direction is so being shaped together ... towards the same vision. What a rare gift! I can't help but feel sometimes that I am watching a film of the two of us together and it's one of the great love stories. It hardly seems real, such peace and love. It will always be the great beauty of my life.
This year has likewise brought delightful bouts of discipline (more than ever before, even if not near enough compared to my goals). Thank you, Chels, darling, for that. Meeting weekly in cafes all over the middle of the City (Mission, Noe, Castro), we have not missed one week in writing and working at a cafe to keep each other accountable by sharing it. These times I anticipate greatly.
Random opportunities I could never have made for myself keep coming way on the culinary writing front: being on the radio with food reviews, first paid itinerary gig, writing for a website, my website and all the help coming to me for it (Dan & Chels especially!) It's been crazy and out of my hands.
My sister is moving here - another untold gift I hoped for but would never have really expected!
Community is amazing: our group, our interactions, nights of wine, food and talks, films and music, Imogen Heap, SF Indie Fest, SF MOMA party night, "The Office" marathons, incredible meals out with rewarding conversation, and my dream of a birthday party that Dan threw for me which I will never forget. Magical, vibrant and memorable... Dan (and my dear friends) outdid themselves.
Music at church and things there in general are moving. I've cried without being able to control it two weeks in a row. Something big is moving.
Everywhere. I feel it, fear it and reach out for it all at once. There is so much more I cry out for in my gut: three things I keep pleading for, not because I deserve them, but because I am just a girl asking God for what her heart desires despite how ridiculous it may be. So much has been granted already. I cannot complain. Life here in SF is beyond what we could have hoped and this we marvel at constantly. I fear. I loathe my many mistakes and flaws. I feel lost and undertain daily. I feel like a gaping wound more often than not. I need more healing, more reconciliation, more wholeness. I need, I need. I lack, I lack. And in this lack, miracles are brewing.
We talked about what it could mean and immediately I said I felt as if my life is speeding ahead of me and I can't put on the brakes. I don't really want to, I suppose, but I feel as if things are swirling around me in thrilling mayhem and I can't quite grasp what is happening. It's not too busy: that's not it at all. It's steady, but well paced... better paced than ever before; full, but with things we love and have decided we want to commit to. We have weeded out a lot of superfluous activities and feel excited about everything we are involved in right now.
Despite this noticeable sense we both have this year, I feel such a mixture of expectation and fear, apathy and excitement. What will win out? Marriage is the greatest gift of my life and I am overwhelmed not only by the tenderness and passion of our love, but by how our calling and life direction is so being shaped together ... towards the same vision. What a rare gift! I can't help but feel sometimes that I am watching a film of the two of us together and it's one of the great love stories. It hardly seems real, such peace and love. It will always be the great beauty of my life.
This year has likewise brought delightful bouts of discipline (more than ever before, even if not near enough compared to my goals). Thank you, Chels, darling, for that. Meeting weekly in cafes all over the middle of the City (Mission, Noe, Castro), we have not missed one week in writing and working at a cafe to keep each other accountable by sharing it. These times I anticipate greatly.
Random opportunities I could never have made for myself keep coming way on the culinary writing front: being on the radio with food reviews, first paid itinerary gig, writing for a website, my website and all the help coming to me for it (Dan & Chels especially!) It's been crazy and out of my hands.
My sister is moving here - another untold gift I hoped for but would never have really expected!
Community is amazing: our group, our interactions, nights of wine, food and talks, films and music, Imogen Heap, SF Indie Fest, SF MOMA party night, "The Office" marathons, incredible meals out with rewarding conversation, and my dream of a birthday party that Dan threw for me which I will never forget. Magical, vibrant and memorable... Dan (and my dear friends) outdid themselves.
Music at church and things there in general are moving. I've cried without being able to control it two weeks in a row. Something big is moving.
Everywhere. I feel it, fear it and reach out for it all at once. There is so much more I cry out for in my gut: three things I keep pleading for, not because I deserve them, but because I am just a girl asking God for what her heart desires despite how ridiculous it may be. So much has been granted already. I cannot complain. Life here in SF is beyond what we could have hoped and this we marvel at constantly. I fear. I loathe my many mistakes and flaws. I feel lost and undertain daily. I feel like a gaping wound more often than not. I need more healing, more reconciliation, more wholeness. I need, I need. I lack, I lack. And in this lack, miracles are brewing.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Expectant Still
Remember that surge of expectancy I wrote about back in September (it's likely you don't and more likely you never read it but since I write this for myself more than anything...)? Since then, I have seen it prove true in a surprisingly vibrant way in community. Small miracles have occurred and long prayed for hopes are unfolding. I rejoice with every revelation and moment shared in our gatherings.
Towards the end of last year, I have reflected much on death and the brevity of life. It has been agonizing. Not that these are new thoughts but their weight is heavier as I grow older. Life is so sweet and rapid. I look at Dan sometimes as we lay in bed reading and I cannot imagine either of us no longer alive. It breaks my heart right down the middle and brings a pain I cannot describe. Each moment is so frail, sad and spectacular.
In this first month of the new year, I am feeling that surge of expectancy again. The sadness is still deep within in me as it always has been even when I was a girl. My sense of the magic behind all things beautiful was bittersweet as the best moments never lasted. My keen attuning to the view of God in the glorious variety of the world has always brought joy accompanied by a never-ending ache.
My expectancy is for a freer me who does not continue to wallow in self-laceration for all the things I do and say wrong. It's for coming into my calling in my thirties like never before. It's for creative, artistic fulfillment for my incredibly gifted husband - a coming into his calling - into our calling together in ways just hinted at up till now. It is for a wild abandon to my heart's cries... the me who dreams vibrant dreams and sees behind the veil into the majesty that is each breath, each sunset, each face I pass in the street, each night sky.
While I would not call this something I am expectant about, I sense that some of the greatest freedom and release ahead lies for me in coming to terms with beauty in the horror of the world, and ultimately, death. My secret vision of glory has always been in nature, music, people, the arts, miniscule moments that speak of the deep beneath the surface. But when it comes to destruction, pain, abuse, misunderstanding, war and death, my dreamer self wallows in a pain so agonizing there is no end. Looking for beauty in ashes is a tiring effort and most times I cannot see any reason to the senseless horror we humans inflict on each other and our world.
But I sense that if I can somehow come to a place where beauty and horror do not cancel each other out... where they are held by the same hand... then I can see those hints of glory in the blood and tears. I can see it in death and decay as I also see it in newness and life.
This is what I hope for.
Towards the end of last year, I have reflected much on death and the brevity of life. It has been agonizing. Not that these are new thoughts but their weight is heavier as I grow older. Life is so sweet and rapid. I look at Dan sometimes as we lay in bed reading and I cannot imagine either of us no longer alive. It breaks my heart right down the middle and brings a pain I cannot describe. Each moment is so frail, sad and spectacular.
In this first month of the new year, I am feeling that surge of expectancy again. The sadness is still deep within in me as it always has been even when I was a girl. My sense of the magic behind all things beautiful was bittersweet as the best moments never lasted. My keen attuning to the view of God in the glorious variety of the world has always brought joy accompanied by a never-ending ache.
My expectancy is for a freer me who does not continue to wallow in self-laceration for all the things I do and say wrong. It's for coming into my calling in my thirties like never before. It's for creative, artistic fulfillment for my incredibly gifted husband - a coming into his calling - into our calling together in ways just hinted at up till now. It is for a wild abandon to my heart's cries... the me who dreams vibrant dreams and sees behind the veil into the majesty that is each breath, each sunset, each face I pass in the street, each night sky.
While I would not call this something I am expectant about, I sense that some of the greatest freedom and release ahead lies for me in coming to terms with beauty in the horror of the world, and ultimately, death. My secret vision of glory has always been in nature, music, people, the arts, miniscule moments that speak of the deep beneath the surface. But when it comes to destruction, pain, abuse, misunderstanding, war and death, my dreamer self wallows in a pain so agonizing there is no end. Looking for beauty in ashes is a tiring effort and most times I cannot see any reason to the senseless horror we humans inflict on each other and our world.
But I sense that if I can somehow come to a place where beauty and horror do not cancel each other out... where they are held by the same hand... then I can see those hints of glory in the blood and tears. I can see it in death and decay as I also see it in newness and life.
This is what I hope for.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Waiting
"The only thing I can say is that it takes place-or the best of it takes place-in a sort of vacuum. On the worst of mornings. On the least likely of mornings. When you expect nothing to happen. When the page is blank. When the mind is blank. Even in a state of depression or melancholia. And, then, only with good luck...
Oh, don't misunderstand me. I think you have to be sitting there. You have to 'wait' in good faith. You have to go to work like anyone else, or I do anyway. I have to go to work at nine o'clock. And in that sense you force it. You've got to start in some way...You have to have a routine and live up to it and then hope for the best." - Walker Percy
He's talking about writing, a truly difficult process. But this applies to all of life.
It takes that faith of waiting, which seems to be much of life: waiting for love, for creativity, for realization of dreams, for change, for security, and so on. Sometimes these things come, sometimes they do not. Sometimes the waiting is days, sometimes years. I hate waiting and yet find the process has been transformative in so many situations. Like working towards love and marriage with Dan. It took years for my heart to be fully ready... much pain and soul searching to get there (and saintliness on Dan's part in staying with me for years while I was uncertain). But in the end, marriage has been a wild celebration of the best years of our relationship. It's been the freest, safest, most healing, holistic time of my life and I know it's because of all the groundwork laid... and because of who Dan is, which is oh, so right for me.
I am thankful daily for the rewards of waiting. Would that I remember this when I am stuck in that agonizing, hellish process again (as I have been for fifteen years now in terms of my creativity and calling).
In the meantime, I guess I'll show up, as Percy says. I'll start so that I am there when something happens.
Oh, don't misunderstand me. I think you have to be sitting there. You have to 'wait' in good faith. You have to go to work like anyone else, or I do anyway. I have to go to work at nine o'clock. And in that sense you force it. You've got to start in some way...You have to have a routine and live up to it and then hope for the best." - Walker Percy
He's talking about writing, a truly difficult process. But this applies to all of life.
It takes that faith of waiting, which seems to be much of life: waiting for love, for creativity, for realization of dreams, for change, for security, and so on. Sometimes these things come, sometimes they do not. Sometimes the waiting is days, sometimes years. I hate waiting and yet find the process has been transformative in so many situations. Like working towards love and marriage with Dan. It took years for my heart to be fully ready... much pain and soul searching to get there (and saintliness on Dan's part in staying with me for years while I was uncertain). But in the end, marriage has been a wild celebration of the best years of our relationship. It's been the freest, safest, most healing, holistic time of my life and I know it's because of all the groundwork laid... and because of who Dan is, which is oh, so right for me.
I am thankful daily for the rewards of waiting. Would that I remember this when I am stuck in that agonizing, hellish process again (as I have been for fifteen years now in terms of my creativity and calling).
In the meantime, I guess I'll show up, as Percy says. I'll start so that I am there when something happens.
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