The problem with a great book is that its true magic is in the capture. Once you are captured the magic is still there, but it loses its edge, and the magic is never quite the same again.
I've been glutting myself on quite a bit of fiction lately. At the behest of my husband I finally settled in to read 11/22/63 by Steven King (in case you missed it; he's my favorite). I'm a little mad at him now both because the end was spectacularly perfect and heart breaking ( if I had the time to spare it may have spent time in the freezer ) and because now I am book bereft. There won't be time for involved reading in Arizona so I can't even comfort myself with something else I hope is as good. I just kind of wander around...lost.
I got my hair cut the other day.
It is bad.
It is very, very bad.
I hate it.
All my cute summer-do wishes have gone up in smoke. Ah well. It will grow. Or I will shave it.
Tomorrow I will perform my last chore before dropping the kids off with my mom...depollenizing the car. The hunky says why bother, but I think being able to see out the windows on the interstate is important.
Part of prepping for a six hour round trip drive included acquainting myself with the process of checking out audio books and kindle books from my library website to my toys. It took way longer than I anticipated. And it's taking hours to upload the books to my ipod, which of course means there isn't any music to play while I wrap up the pre-mission trip house work.
Life is rough I tell you.
I should go see if I can fit all my things into my carry on bag before I fly across the country in under five hours. Oh the humanity. :)
3.27.2012
3.23.2012
7 Quick Takes Friday: Vol. 2; Ed. 8
1. It is officially one week until I leave for Arizona. Granted, we don't actually leave until Saturday morning, but today is one full week of usable days before travel Saturday. This is the point where I remind myself not to freak out, to take lots of deep breaths and to write everything down lest it be forgotten. I have my trusty notepad on my desk for all the lists, thoughts, and possibilities. Tonight the mission team is descending on the house for dinner and prayer and I actually feel ready for that so I'm way ahead of the curve there.
2. I spent a great deal of time this week in the sun. A great deal. It's been completely marvelous. The warm days, the long evenings, the summer haircut for the dog, the longing that my family would be happy with only cut up fruits and salads every day for dinner...the calendar says march but I promise that my attitude is screaming summertime. I'm enjoying watching the full fleshing out of Spring. Usually we miss a chunk of it while we are out west. We'll even have mowed a few times before leaving.
3. I started this blog this morning. It's now 8:45 pm and here it sits still unfinished.
4. I actually swam in the lake this week. It's chilly, to be sure, but it's warmer every day. I never realized what torture it would be to be on the water and not actually able to be IN the water for five months. I'm very ready to spend hours of time drifting and splashing and swimming and diving. Our brown water snake is still hanging around. We're really encouraging him to relocate before our first night swim.
5. This week Spring fever really took hold of us all. The girls wanted to play outside all day long so most mornings we didn't start school until after 11am. I told the hunky that golden springtime mornings when you are still young enough to play make believe don't come along often enough, and I was letting them grab every one (he then reminded me that my oldest will be SEVENTEEN in three years and now we are not speaking). I mostly just wanted to sit in the sun and read like a fiend. I guess eventually we will all have to be responsible again, but this week wasn't a week where much was checked off the to-do list, for certain. However it ranks quite high on the life well lived list, so I consider it a fair trade. (*upon editing this blog I realize that this is kind of a repeat of #2. This is what happens when a blog sits unfinished for twelve hours. Or when you bake your brain in the sun all week. Either way, I don't have anything else more exciting to say, so it's staying.*)
6. I started mentally laying out my wardrobe for packing this week. Air-Tran recently reduced it's carry on luggage size so I am a little worried that I won't be able to fit everything in my bag. However, I have been practicing packing less the last few places we have gone, and I think I am going to be able to make it work.
7. Sometimes I put things here in the blog because it makes me way more accountable later on. I am very seriously considering going on a one year consumer fast: one year of not buying new things for myself (obviously groceries and cosmetics are excluded). I haven't fully fleshed out how it will work in my mind. But I'm very much pondering and reasoning through the idea starting after Easter Sunday (we get back from Az. the day before Easter). When I get it all situated in my mind, I'll be sure to share more here.
3.22.2012
Wanton Spring
Spring took leap year as a challenge,
And so she has leapt -
straightaway.
Trees thrust leaves eagerly into the abundant sun.
Flowers, bees, birds and bugs
a wanton frenzy of waking and wildness.
Simmering afternoon showers overtake
the clicking susurration of sprinklers.
Out-of-season swimming beckons the truly brave
or the slightly heat drunk.
Spring flirts with sultry wiles:
pale pink misty mornings give way
to afternoon breezes cooling
sweat dampened necks, sun-kissed shoulders.
She drifts slow as water
sliding down my icy glass.
But underneath, mercurial she
still holds the stiff coat tails of old man winter
And should she stubborn prove may call again
those icy fingers into our summer reverie.
Reminding all that no matter her manner of dress today
she will do what she will do with tomorrow
and make no apologies.
And so she has leapt -
straightaway.
Trees thrust leaves eagerly into the abundant sun.
Flowers, bees, birds and bugs
a wanton frenzy of waking and wildness.
Simmering afternoon showers overtake
the clicking susurration of sprinklers.
Out-of-season swimming beckons the truly brave
or the slightly heat drunk.
Spring flirts with sultry wiles:
pale pink misty mornings give way
to afternoon breezes cooling
sweat dampened necks, sun-kissed shoulders.
She drifts slow as water
sliding down my icy glass.
But underneath, mercurial she
still holds the stiff coat tails of old man winter
And should she stubborn prove may call again
those icy fingers into our summer reverie.
Reminding all that no matter her manner of dress today
she will do what she will do with tomorrow
and make no apologies.
3.21.2012
Unfiltered
I've been back on line for twenty-one days...and the fact is, I'm kind of over it.
I've talked before here about how I am a very introverted person. I look back over the past few years, and I feel that in many ways I have changed, but this facet of my personality is very much intact (if you don't know much about introverts, I encourage you to read this article about us. For me it's true across the board), and after cutting myself off completely from the internet for forty days, I realize something: for the most part internet communication is way more about the small talk and information gathering than it is about any sort of meaningful sharing of ideas. I'm not saying that people do not develop deep relationships online, or use it to have meaningful conversations. They do, albeit, generally, not very often.
I've been struggling with how to really put words to this over the last few days.
What I don't like about myself when I put myself out there in short blurbs of words is that it lacks intimacy. Unfortunately, I also don't generally trust the atmosphere of social networking or email enough to foster any real intimacy on my own part ( we'll chalk this up to life lessons hard learned ), but I do want to feel like I was both seen and heard by any one in my realm of internet interaction and when that doesn't happen the way I expected (ah expectations--another blog for another time), I react negatively when I really hadn't set myself up for anything truly meaningful in the first place.
This is a problem.
But it's a problem I do have the power to change.
Then today I read this: Your Instagram Life
And it all sort of came together for me. I don't want an instagram life, but the only way to not have one is to fully engage in whatever it is that I am doing.
Twenty one days is all it took for me to fall back into patterns of disengaging and not even enjoying the process. Twenty one days to slip back into shallow waters, 140 character statements and filter-full existence.
For all that it doesn't always "pop" or have amazing lighting, life in the raw is pretty awesome, even when it's ugly and you can't photoshop out the blemishes.
I'll take the unfiltered version please. It will be a lot more unplugged for the duration.
I've talked before here about how I am a very introverted person. I look back over the past few years, and I feel that in many ways I have changed, but this facet of my personality is very much intact (if you don't know much about introverts, I encourage you to read this article about us. For me it's true across the board), and after cutting myself off completely from the internet for forty days, I realize something: for the most part internet communication is way more about the small talk and information gathering than it is about any sort of meaningful sharing of ideas. I'm not saying that people do not develop deep relationships online, or use it to have meaningful conversations. They do, albeit, generally, not very often.
I've been struggling with how to really put words to this over the last few days.
What I don't like about myself when I put myself out there in short blurbs of words is that it lacks intimacy. Unfortunately, I also don't generally trust the atmosphere of social networking or email enough to foster any real intimacy on my own part ( we'll chalk this up to life lessons hard learned ), but I do want to feel like I was both seen and heard by any one in my realm of internet interaction and when that doesn't happen the way I expected (ah expectations--another blog for another time), I react negatively when I really hadn't set myself up for anything truly meaningful in the first place.
This is a problem.
But it's a problem I do have the power to change.
Then today I read this: Your Instagram Life
And it all sort of came together for me. I don't want an instagram life, but the only way to not have one is to fully engage in whatever it is that I am doing.
Twenty one days is all it took for me to fall back into patterns of disengaging and not even enjoying the process. Twenty one days to slip back into shallow waters, 140 character statements and filter-full existence.
For all that it doesn't always "pop" or have amazing lighting, life in the raw is pretty awesome, even when it's ugly and you can't photoshop out the blemishes.
I'll take the unfiltered version please. It will be a lot more unplugged for the duration.
3.20.2012
Spring Ramble
Today is officially the first day of Spring...which technically means we started swimming again in winter this year. Spring is very enthusiastic this year. Very.
I don't turn the air conditioning on until May. Which may be why we are swimming in the winter.
A lot of people are complaining about the heat. Two weeks ago they were complaining about the cold. Also there's a lot of complaining about the pollen.
I've stopped talking to most people.
Basically, I'm happy to sit on the dock and bake. Or the deck and bake. Or lay in the lawn and bake (watch out for goose poop!) I'm in lizard mode. Lizards soak in the heat and sit very still. They also don't talk much. I like these things.
This weather makes it hard for me to have discipline for school, or house work, or laundry, or serious reading.
My mind thinks it is on Spring Break. The calendar says I am most definitely not on Spring Break.
Nor are my children who rely on me for their education.
It's weather like this that makes me rethink public school. Imagine it: Me. Alone. All. Day. Long. Baking in the warm, warm sun. Lizarding. And reading.....mmmmmmmmm.
But the Hunky would probably make me get a Jay-Oh- Bee and then I would REALLY not be able to sit and bake in the sun ever. I don't want a Jay-Oh-Bee. (*whispers - ever*)
I don't think deep thoughts. I don't introspect endlessly. My thoughts just slip along like the rippling wavelets stirred up by the breeze.
I've been running. Running makes me quite tired. I have to adjust physically to this before I really do go on Spring break where there won't be much baking but there will be much working and very uncomfortable beds.
I love Aleve.
I also love running in the cool morning temps with the sun just coming up. When I run first thing in the morning I mentally permit myself to slack off more because, "I ran today and that was a lot of work already."
Heh.
I'm such a slacker.
That is the state of things here. Swimming. Sun. Baking. Reading. Running. Very little motivation to do much else.
Maybe it's actually the first day of summer..... hmmmmm.
I don't turn the air conditioning on until May. Which may be why we are swimming in the winter.
A lot of people are complaining about the heat. Two weeks ago they were complaining about the cold. Also there's a lot of complaining about the pollen.
I've stopped talking to most people.
Basically, I'm happy to sit on the dock and bake. Or the deck and bake. Or lay in the lawn and bake (watch out for goose poop!) I'm in lizard mode. Lizards soak in the heat and sit very still. They also don't talk much. I like these things.
This weather makes it hard for me to have discipline for school, or house work, or laundry, or serious reading.
My mind thinks it is on Spring Break. The calendar says I am most definitely not on Spring Break.
Nor are my children who rely on me for their education.
It's weather like this that makes me rethink public school. Imagine it: Me. Alone. All. Day. Long. Baking in the warm, warm sun. Lizarding. And reading.....mmmmmmmmm.
But the Hunky would probably make me get a Jay-Oh- Bee and then I would REALLY not be able to sit and bake in the sun ever. I don't want a Jay-Oh-Bee. (*whispers - ever*)
I don't think deep thoughts. I don't introspect endlessly. My thoughts just slip along like the rippling wavelets stirred up by the breeze.
I've been running. Running makes me quite tired. I have to adjust physically to this before I really do go on Spring break where there won't be much baking but there will be much working and very uncomfortable beds.
I love Aleve.
I also love running in the cool morning temps with the sun just coming up. When I run first thing in the morning I mentally permit myself to slack off more because, "I ran today and that was a lot of work already."
Heh.
I'm such a slacker.
That is the state of things here. Swimming. Sun. Baking. Reading. Running. Very little motivation to do much else.
Maybe it's actually the first day of summer..... hmmmmm.
3.13.2012
Sun Showers
Here's the thing about getting older, sometimes your bounce back loses some of its zing. My ankle and I went to war in December and we are still hard at the battle. But as of this week I am officially back on the street and beating my body into shape...again....or maybe it's more like still rather than again.
The thing is, I love running...still...not again. But running is hard. It hurts. It's work and as soon as it gets any easier at all, you just push harder.
This morning I woke up angsty and overwhelmed. Not for any particular reason other than the stars aligned and my hormones were having voo-doo practice, and I may have had PTSD from picking a six foot snake up on the end of a stick in order to examine the scales on its tail and determine if it was friendly or deadly (Scientific aside: brown water snakes have diamond shaped tail scales and water moccasins have ring tail scales. Our snake had diamond scales). What? Pastor's wives don't get to have angst for no reason?
It's days like today that running was made for. A gorgeous spring morning complete with sun showers and horizon to horizon rainbows. It ended with fist pumping and some serious pride.
They aren't all like that.
Sometimes you drag yourself to the end. You can't breathe; your legs are made of lead. You hate everyone and everything you ever whispered a word about running to. You hate yourself for thinking you have any right or reason to even try running. You throw your shoes and stalk off to the shower and swear you will never do that again ever.
It's a lot like life that way.
Sometimes you even get waylaid by a major-minor injury that keeps nagging you and tripping you up, making you afraid of falling even though you've stayed strong and upright a thousand times more than you've ever come down. You wish it was weakness because weakness can be worked through, but you know that some of it is just time, catching up, whispering in your ear that strength and health aren't a promise. That youth isn't your next door neighbor any more.
I'm not twenty anymore.
Gimpy ankles or not, I don't wanna be.
Sara Groves said it best: Less like scars, more like character.
We ain't winning any marathons around here, but baby, WE GOT US SOME CHARACTER. And sometimes we get rainbows and sun showers to boot.
Worth it.
3.12.2012
I rocked
I rocked today
a restless boy-child not my own,
Yet in nature the same as all
restlentlessly busy one-year-olds
with so much life to live.
We filled the morning chasing, giggling
and reading, "Again! Again!"
Boundaries were tested in triplicate.
We ran down the road discovering birds,
collecting pine cones.
We ate bananas, cookies
fish sticks and french fries.
When rocking time came,
Johnson's baby shampoo under warm sweaty hair
and salty 'Nilla wafers
filled the air with nostalgia.
A moment's struggle with sleepiness
when all at once head settles
in the hollow of a mother's shoulder
muscles sag, lungs sigh
a final string of nonsense chatter
Then surrender.
What was only a minute ago
constant motion, incessant questioning
boundless energy, eternal parroting
is now only soft stillness
even breathing
a bittersweet suspension of passing time.
I rocked a child today, not my own
but memory remains as strong as truth.
I will not retrace the steps
of babies and toddlers again of my own
But the sweet magic of trusting surrender remains.
Magic in the pause of a moment.
a restless boy-child not my own,
Yet in nature the same as all
restlentlessly busy one-year-olds
with so much life to live.
We filled the morning chasing, giggling
and reading, "Again! Again!"
Boundaries were tested in triplicate.
We ran down the road discovering birds,
collecting pine cones.
We ate bananas, cookies
fish sticks and french fries.
When rocking time came,
Johnson's baby shampoo under warm sweaty hair
and salty 'Nilla wafers
filled the air with nostalgia.
A moment's struggle with sleepiness
when all at once head settles
in the hollow of a mother's shoulder
muscles sag, lungs sigh
a final string of nonsense chatter
Then surrender.
What was only a minute ago
constant motion, incessant questioning
boundless energy, eternal parroting
is now only soft stillness
even breathing
a bittersweet suspension of passing time.
I rocked a child today, not my own
but memory remains as strong as truth.
I will not retrace the steps
of babies and toddlers again of my own
But the sweet magic of trusting surrender remains.
Magic in the pause of a moment.
3.09.2012
Quick Takes Friday: Vol.2, Ed. 7
1. Am I the only person out there who is just chomping at the bit for warmer weather? I know I shouldn't grumble. We've had an extremely mild winter here where I have only rarely even needed a coat. However yesterday was so gorgeously warm and wonderful. We all sat outside in our shorts and tank tops. We even used sunscreen. We talked about swimming and even put our feet in the water to reassure ourselves that it really was still winter-cold, mild winter weather or not. Today it is dreary again, and cool. My slippers are on and my hoodie, and even at that I am a touch chilly. The past two nights the lake has been glassy still and all I can think of is diving in for a night swim. Last but not least, I've been schlepping about in warm jammie pants for at least a month now because they are both w arm and comfortable. I'm pretty sure Hunky thinks I've purged all my real grown-up clothes.Yes, I am definitely ready for something a bit warmer and consistently sunny. I know we'll get there soon. Remind me if I make comments about the heat that it's what I wanted on this day in March.
2. I'm enjoying the freedom of being back online and able to research whatever I want, find new recipes (current new favorite: roasted cauliflower. I can eat an entire head myself) and generally be a bit more connected. I'm also enjoying using it only as a tool to communicate and save time rather than being a slave to it. I performed a radical blog feedectomy this week and am down to my very favorite and most useful or loved blogs. That was not an easy task and there may be some refining down the road.
3. I am still not following my one book at a time rule, but I am currently reading just two: The Rest of God: Restoring your Soul by Restoring Sabbath and Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Second Half of life. Both are quite excellent. I mentioned yesterday that our Sabbaths have been rather haphazard this year. The Sabbath book has been refreshing to my heart for that. It is definitely a slow read, one to savor not devour. Falling Upward feels as though someone looked into my head, saw what was going on in there and wrote a book about it. I like the help of someone else crystallizing the chaos into sense, or at least providing a little stability for the journey.
Lest you think I'm only all about the spiritual, the latest Stephen King is also about to enter the reading sphere.
4. I haven't talked about this much, but I removed refined sugars from my diet again in January. I did eat cake and a few other sugary treats while I was visiting my Mom's house a few weeks ago. But over all it's been a consistent and certainly healthier diet change for me. The last two weeks or so I have been breakfasting on lovely green smoothies. I recently discovered the joy of a lemon smoothie ( lemon, banana and blueberry or strawberry with spinach to be exact). Even my girls tell me they are delicious!
5. I've been attempting to tackle the slightly overwhelming job of sorting and organizing all our paper photos. The wonderful Hunky bought a groupon for 1,000 pictures to be scanned and stored, so I am trying to make the most of it by picking the best and ditching the rest. I'm currently standing here surrounded by small piles of photos that I have avoided touching for two days because I reached a point where I felt I would never be able to get it done. I need to move past that today so we can ship those out.
6. I came to the realization yesterday that our mission trip is actually this month. Life is racing towards it at blinding speed. The last few weeks have been filled with wonderful, amazing stories of God providing the money for folks to go (one of my favorite parts of the entire trip). Now its time for me to start making lists and determining what is essential. Since I have been preaching paring down and minimalism, I am going to practice it and take only a carry on for a full seven days. The mission house has washer and dryer, so I am probably making this out to be more difficult in my head than it actually will be.
7. I loved this blog: Toxic which talked about something I've been slowly turning over in my mind for some time. I do firmly believe that we cannot avoid encountering toxic things, people and situations, but that it is in our power to choose whether or not to invest in the things that slowly poison our lives and our joy. We actually can control a great deal of the level of involvement, physical, mental and emotional, with these poisons and those choices can change our lives drastically for the better or the worse.
3.08.2012
Chasing Pickles
One of my favorite times of the year is coming up: Daylight Saving Time. I realize that it makes many folks moan and groan, and that's alright. No one is required to agree with me, but I love it. I love that it means it's time for the lake water to warm, and the sun to rise over the boathouse all goldeny orange, or better yet purple laced silver through the mist. I love that is means brown thrasher serenades in the morning and screech owls in the evening, and all the long slow sunsets that I love. It means Spring is here and Summer is coming; my inner lizard can makes its presence known.
I'm a little excited.
In fact, I must tell you: We've been living on DST for roughly nineteen hours now.
I know, I know. It's crazy. But for the past few years we've played with time and rather than the crash and burn of a harried Sunday morning with not enough sleep, we've eased into longer evenings and earlier mornings and been the better for it.
It can only be Divine intervention that three years in a row have found us with room in our schedules to stretch time this way. But since I am slow it took me until this year to realize that God is showing me that He can make more rest with less time than any time saving miracle modern culture has to offer. This year has launched our family into a whole new level of hectic (or perhaps the same hectic with new clothes), and our Sabbath commitment has faltered and been half-hearted, a disobedience that has been of particular discomfort this past week, but this weekend is the time of my repentance when I begin anew to celebrate not only a Sabbath day but a Sabbath heart.
Because I am slow to learn on many things, God provided us with a wonderful illustration of our need to rest in His time. After school I chased us all outside to lounge in the sun and spring breezes (tomorrow brings more of March's roaring so we're making the most of what we get). Apparently the bumble bees also felt the need to emerge today. We spent the better part of three hours being highly amused by the one who had very boldly staked his territorial claim on our deck. Anxiously he buzzed and hovered, sometimes hovering inches from our face to stare us in the eye as if to say, "It's only because I heard about your reputation with spiders that I am letting you stay here." Approximately every ninety seconds, a bumble bee interloper would fly into the area and our bee would rev up his buzz to infuriated levels to defend what was rightfully his. Time after time he chased, darted, bullied and harassed, occasionally actually coming to mid-air collisions and wrestling matches -we called them bumble rumbles- not only with other bees but butterflies, gnats, the dog, anything he felt large enough and loud enough to handle. He worked so hard all afternoon long. Lindsay and I accidentally learned that if we threw things from our chairs to the yard he would actually chase them, and so for awhile the air was filled with small sticks, crepe myrtle pods and even small bits of pickles as we amused ourselves with what we called Bumble Fetch (later the dog ate the pickle bits...who knew?). So much energy was expended today. Not one time did our bumble stop to rest. Not one time did his angry, anxious, belligerent hum diminish.
Here's the catch. This particular bee will likely be dead by Saturday. All that work. All that effort. For what, really?
I learned a lot today by letting go of should and ought and embracing Be (and bee).
Teach me to number my days, Lord, that I might gain a heart of wisdom, and thank you for the bee lessons and the incredibly gorgeous spring day. Amen.
I'm a little excited.
In fact, I must tell you: We've been living on DST for roughly nineteen hours now.
I know, I know. It's crazy. But for the past few years we've played with time and rather than the crash and burn of a harried Sunday morning with not enough sleep, we've eased into longer evenings and earlier mornings and been the better for it.
It can only be Divine intervention that three years in a row have found us with room in our schedules to stretch time this way. But since I am slow it took me until this year to realize that God is showing me that He can make more rest with less time than any time saving miracle modern culture has to offer. This year has launched our family into a whole new level of hectic (or perhaps the same hectic with new clothes), and our Sabbath commitment has faltered and been half-hearted, a disobedience that has been of particular discomfort this past week, but this weekend is the time of my repentance when I begin anew to celebrate not only a Sabbath day but a Sabbath heart.
Because I am slow to learn on many things, God provided us with a wonderful illustration of our need to rest in His time. After school I chased us all outside to lounge in the sun and spring breezes (tomorrow brings more of March's roaring so we're making the most of what we get). Apparently the bumble bees also felt the need to emerge today. We spent the better part of three hours being highly amused by the one who had very boldly staked his territorial claim on our deck. Anxiously he buzzed and hovered, sometimes hovering inches from our face to stare us in the eye as if to say, "It's only because I heard about your reputation with spiders that I am letting you stay here." Approximately every ninety seconds, a bumble bee interloper would fly into the area and our bee would rev up his buzz to infuriated levels to defend what was rightfully his. Time after time he chased, darted, bullied and harassed, occasionally actually coming to mid-air collisions and wrestling matches -we called them bumble rumbles- not only with other bees but butterflies, gnats, the dog, anything he felt large enough and loud enough to handle. He worked so hard all afternoon long. Lindsay and I accidentally learned that if we threw things from our chairs to the yard he would actually chase them, and so for awhile the air was filled with small sticks, crepe myrtle pods and even small bits of pickles as we amused ourselves with what we called Bumble Fetch (later the dog ate the pickle bits...who knew?). So much energy was expended today. Not one time did our bumble stop to rest. Not one time did his angry, anxious, belligerent hum diminish.
Here's the catch. This particular bee will likely be dead by Saturday. All that work. All that effort. For what, really?
I learned a lot today by letting go of should and ought and embracing Be (and bee).
Teach me to number my days, Lord, that I might gain a heart of wisdom, and thank you for the bee lessons and the incredibly gorgeous spring day. Amen.
3.07.2012
The god of Spiders
I stepped outside a bit today.
March is marching, restless, roaring.
Turbulent clouds tossing fickle
thin and wispy, dark and brooding.
For a few moments fey Sun makes space,
spring emerges.
I also make space in time, and lion-like myself
seek out a warm spot for being.
Eyes close translucent red curtains.
Time stops. Heart stills. Skin warms.
I am.
Until at last my book sings louder than wind.
I stretch to find a small grey explorer
mountain climbing the steep green plastic of my own chair.
Idly I brush him away.
Spiders are all well and good in their place.
That place does not include my hair.
But spiders are made equipped of more inventive tools than I.
Silken cords release.
The grand adventurer sails around to land
on my other side.
Again I gently brush, no harm intended.
I watch amused, a para-sailing acrobat
Does he feel joy or is it merely survival?
A third landing, this time a mighty leap propels
New heights attained
Not plastic, but skin and fine blond hairs providing footholds,
eight at once,
The better to touch the sky, my dear.
Is he too small to realize the hand that gently launches
could quickly end his misadventure?
Effortlessly ending exploration in an instant.
The god of spiders smiles.
Another breath and blowing outward instead
and send him spinning, soaring, sailing
on further adventures in the sky.
March is marching, restless, roaring.
Turbulent clouds tossing fickle
thin and wispy, dark and brooding.
For a few moments fey Sun makes space,
spring emerges.
I also make space in time, and lion-like myself
seek out a warm spot for being.
Eyes close translucent red curtains.
Time stops. Heart stills. Skin warms.
I am.
Until at last my book sings louder than wind.
I stretch to find a small grey explorer
mountain climbing the steep green plastic of my own chair.
Idly I brush him away.
Spiders are all well and good in their place.
That place does not include my hair.
But spiders are made equipped of more inventive tools than I.
Silken cords release.
The grand adventurer sails around to land
on my other side.
Again I gently brush, no harm intended.
I watch amused, a para-sailing acrobat
Does he feel joy or is it merely survival?
A third landing, this time a mighty leap propels
New heights attained
Not plastic, but skin and fine blond hairs providing footholds,
eight at once,
The better to touch the sky, my dear.
Is he too small to realize the hand that gently launches
could quickly end his misadventure?
Effortlessly ending exploration in an instant.
The god of spiders smiles.
Another breath and blowing outward instead
and send him spinning, soaring, sailing
on further adventures in the sky.
3.06.2012
Attention: It's March
It's a Tuesday night in March to be exact. We just finished the dinner dishes and any moment now my girls, my near-women, will emerge clean and scrubbed and jammied with soft blankets and over-sized pillows. We'll sprawl and pile across the well-loved living room furniture and engage in family movie night. Tonight it won't be quite dark when we begin, and next week it won't be dark at all and suddenly we find ourselves counting the Tuesdays until family movie night becomes family swim night, or family ice cream under the stars night, or family full moon picnic night...
It's March, and it's almost Spring. I can taste it on my tongue tip as it dances across the breezes (and even the lion-like March gale winds). The daffodils bow and nod in cheery greeting as I walk...run. I'm trying to run and this old ankle tries to fight it, and I realize yet again that it may be spring, but I am no spring chicken any more, and so I am grateful for the flowery entourage of support. It's spring even though at night the stars still snap crisp as January and the bright, translucent green of spring leaves are wrapped up tight. But the red bud knows. She cheerfully and unashamedly blushes bright pink for the glory of the sun and the fickle fling of spring storms.
It's March and in this year of Attention , the year of no goals and few lists I feel I have changed more and learned more in two months than in two years combined. Generally by March's end I think to myself "Oh no! The year is one quarter gone, and I lost focus on what I had planned already." This year I have no plans, but my focus remains crystal clear before me. I am not who I was...not even who I was in January. And this change, it is very good even when I want to crawl under the pine straw to hibernate with the muskrats, even when I gaze out the window at the lake for an hour and wonder what in the world could God possibly be planning. Even then.
It's March, and I am counting hours and numbering days, only now I am numbering days to Arizona (twenty-five). I am gaining a vision. I am developing a Sabbath heart and looking forward to a small breathing space while vision and rest find their proper perspective in my soul. I'm thinking of slavery and Egypt and returning to Egypt and how to make those thoughts flow into words here in this space.
It's March and every day becomes an adventure of discovery, what to learn, what to enjoy, what to discover, what to pray, what to hope.
It's March.
It's Spring.
I'm paying attention.
Let's go!
It's March, and it's almost Spring. I can taste it on my tongue tip as it dances across the breezes (and even the lion-like March gale winds). The daffodils bow and nod in cheery greeting as I walk...run. I'm trying to run and this old ankle tries to fight it, and I realize yet again that it may be spring, but I am no spring chicken any more, and so I am grateful for the flowery entourage of support. It's spring even though at night the stars still snap crisp as January and the bright, translucent green of spring leaves are wrapped up tight. But the red bud knows. She cheerfully and unashamedly blushes bright pink for the glory of the sun and the fickle fling of spring storms.
It's March and in this year of Attention , the year of no goals and few lists I feel I have changed more and learned more in two months than in two years combined. Generally by March's end I think to myself "Oh no! The year is one quarter gone, and I lost focus on what I had planned already." This year I have no plans, but my focus remains crystal clear before me. I am not who I was...not even who I was in January. And this change, it is very good even when I want to crawl under the pine straw to hibernate with the muskrats, even when I gaze out the window at the lake for an hour and wonder what in the world could God possibly be planning. Even then.
It's March, and I am counting hours and numbering days, only now I am numbering days to Arizona (twenty-five). I am gaining a vision. I am developing a Sabbath heart and looking forward to a small breathing space while vision and rest find their proper perspective in my soul. I'm thinking of slavery and Egypt and returning to Egypt and how to make those thoughts flow into words here in this space.
It's March and every day becomes an adventure of discovery, what to learn, what to enjoy, what to discover, what to pray, what to hope.
It's March.
It's Spring.
I'm paying attention.
Let's go!
3.03.2012
The mouths of lions
You might not have guessed this, but I spent most of February at a loss for words.
My forty day internet fast ended March 1st and since then I have spent some time online, but overall, not very much. I haven't yet entered back into reading blogs (there will be some trimming in that arena as well). I'm not social networking and I turned most of my email off, so unless I'm watching for the wicked witch of the west to fly by on the radar, there isn't really a great deal of reason to be online anyway.
Except for blogging.
I think I am ready to step back into that as well...though I have to admit even now that making that statement is a leap of faith because I still rather feel at a loss for words.
If I have learned anything over the last forty days it is this: sometimes you are Daniel. You're in the lion's den because everything and everyone you know has turned away, and even those who haven't are powerless to stop what must occur. Sometimes you're at the bottom of the pit watching the stone rolling over the last bits of light and hoping beyond all hope that it isn't really the last poor lion snack's femur you are standing on.
Yes, sometimes you are Daniel.
Then there are other times. Times like the last weeks have been.
The times that you are the lion.
Have you ever thought about that night from the lion's point of view? Here they are hungry, angry, confined, confused and at last, at last it's the dinner bell sound of voices and the grate of stone on stone.
Don't you think their pulses quickened?
Don't you think they crouched ready in the darkness for the moment dinner fell from above?
Don't you think that every natural instinct they ever had was screaming "EAT EAT EAT EAT!"
Not because they were evil or vicious, but because they were lions and the only thing they knew to do was act lion-y (unfortunately for us, lion-y never ends nicely for we wimpy two-legged folk).
And then, just when the anticipation reached it's peak. Just when the nose was filled with the scent of dinner and the muscles had tensed to just the perfect tautness...
Nothing.
Mouths closed. Bellies sated. Muscles relaxed.
There may have even been some purring.
God's funny like that. He's not afraid to step in in the most unexpected way because He just isn't done working things out yet, and just because it's beyond the understanding of lions, doesn't mean He's going to allow their open mouths to muck up a perfectly divine plan.
Yes, sometimes I too am very lion-y.
Because I have been known in my time to let my open mouth try and step in and take some control over a very Divine plan.
Not because I am mean or cruel, but because it's my nature...to speak out for what I may see as wrong, or unjust, or maybe just because I feel like my feelings ought to be known ( You don't have to point out to me the pridefulness of that last sentence, believe you me.).
I could say I wish that God had stepped in on other occasions, except that sometimes you have to eat crow to gain some real wisdom, and maybe just this once, I've got a toehold on a tiny piece of wisdom at last because this time when God stepped in and said,
"Child, shut your mouth."
I was for once in my life, more than happy to do just that.
There may have even been purring.
I don't know much about most things any more. I pray a great deal, and listen a great deal more. I'd love to say I gained great insight and wisdom in my time away, but alas, only the tiniest piece that hasn't had much practice...yet.
I did gain a great deal of freedom, but that may be a post better left for another day when lions aren't part of the picture.
It's good to be back, even if I am not sure what in the world to say.
My forty day internet fast ended March 1st and since then I have spent some time online, but overall, not very much. I haven't yet entered back into reading blogs (there will be some trimming in that arena as well). I'm not social networking and I turned most of my email off, so unless I'm watching for the wicked witch of the west to fly by on the radar, there isn't really a great deal of reason to be online anyway.
Except for blogging.
I think I am ready to step back into that as well...though I have to admit even now that making that statement is a leap of faith because I still rather feel at a loss for words.
If I have learned anything over the last forty days it is this: sometimes you are Daniel. You're in the lion's den because everything and everyone you know has turned away, and even those who haven't are powerless to stop what must occur. Sometimes you're at the bottom of the pit watching the stone rolling over the last bits of light and hoping beyond all hope that it isn't really the last poor lion snack's femur you are standing on.
Yes, sometimes you are Daniel.
Then there are other times. Times like the last weeks have been.
The times that you are the lion.
Have you ever thought about that night from the lion's point of view? Here they are hungry, angry, confined, confused and at last, at last it's the dinner bell sound of voices and the grate of stone on stone.
Don't you think their pulses quickened?
Don't you think they crouched ready in the darkness for the moment dinner fell from above?
Don't you think that every natural instinct they ever had was screaming "EAT EAT EAT EAT!"
Not because they were evil or vicious, but because they were lions and the only thing they knew to do was act lion-y (unfortunately for us, lion-y never ends nicely for we wimpy two-legged folk).
And then, just when the anticipation reached it's peak. Just when the nose was filled with the scent of dinner and the muscles had tensed to just the perfect tautness...
Nothing.
Mouths closed. Bellies sated. Muscles relaxed.
There may have even been some purring.
God's funny like that. He's not afraid to step in in the most unexpected way because He just isn't done working things out yet, and just because it's beyond the understanding of lions, doesn't mean He's going to allow their open mouths to muck up a perfectly divine plan.
Yes, sometimes I too am very lion-y.
Because I have been known in my time to let my open mouth try and step in and take some control over a very Divine plan.
Not because I am mean or cruel, but because it's my nature...to speak out for what I may see as wrong, or unjust, or maybe just because I feel like my feelings ought to be known ( You don't have to point out to me the pridefulness of that last sentence, believe you me.).
I could say I wish that God had stepped in on other occasions, except that sometimes you have to eat crow to gain some real wisdom, and maybe just this once, I've got a toehold on a tiny piece of wisdom at last because this time when God stepped in and said,
"Child, shut your mouth."
I was for once in my life, more than happy to do just that.
There may have even been purring.
I don't know much about most things any more. I pray a great deal, and listen a great deal more. I'd love to say I gained great insight and wisdom in my time away, but alas, only the tiniest piece that hasn't had much practice...yet.
I did gain a great deal of freedom, but that may be a post better left for another day when lions aren't part of the picture.
It's good to be back, even if I am not sure what in the world to say.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)