Melancholic Relief

I've been toying with a phrase for the past couple weeks. Something of a "melancholic relief" has settled on me. I've been really struggling with several major pieces of who I am since the year began. Several things in my life have changed and several more are yet to change.

I've come to some important conclusions in the past couple weeks. These decisions are pulling me into a place of sadness for the loss of what was, but also a peace because decisions that haven't been easy are finally being made in a way that I know is best for me and my family.

Change is good, right? Everyone says that, but when the change requires a complete rearrangement of priorities and even things you have believed your whole life... well, it just makes the change all the more difficult to deal with - even when you know it's a necessary step in the journey to become who you are supposed to be.

So, it's melancholy. I look at what I'm losing, knowing I may never have it again - at least not in the same way. But it's relief. It's best for me and my immediate family. It's necessary. It's part of who I am inside and who I need to become. And as sad and scary as it is, I know it's right.

Flash Fiction Friday: "A Whole Life in One Day"

They barely knew each other, even after watching each other from afar for years.

And now, he studied her. Up close. Personal. From only inches away. One day, by chance, had brought them here.

His eyes detailed the memory he'd replay later - and for years to come. Her cheeks, flushed from the chill of the air and something else - something infinitely more permanent. Her hair, softly silhouetted in the glow of the streetlight behind her. Her lashes brightly glistening in errant flakes of snow.

"When I look at you, I see forever."

He watched his whispered words wrap around her, his warm breath causing a shivered smile to tease her face and his heart, embracing them both in eternity.

He pulled her close and touched his lips to hers. In one second, he knew his life was held inside this day.

In Spite

Dear Expectations,

You totally suck at this love stuff. You're always getting in the way, and you always ruin stuff that's beautiful. You have no respect for spontaneity or romance, forcing all these obligations on me. I'm just tired of trying to keep up with you, and I think it's just time to be... me.

I have chosen to love in spite of you.

Sincerely,
Nean

Caught in the Middle

here i stay

behind and before

awakening your soul for this crime

of what they call intuitive passions

in anger, pain, desires, intrigue

as we learn to see loves through

together two make one

lovers now from friends

don’t know why, or even how

you ever won this right

to entwine your soul in mine

Smile After Play

Apparently, my love of words is contagious and I tend to call out the inner poets in others. As a passionate writer, poet, and editor (and former writing teacher), my friends occasionally find themselves caught up in the poetic frenzy in which I live and feel the need to try it out for themselves. When this happens, and the words spill onto the page (or computer screen), I encourage and share as I'm given freedom to do so. Please make comments and share the love for our fellow guest poets!

Today's guest poet is Sara Eiser. I met Sara through Twitter, and we have become good friends. She considers herself to be a non-fiction writer, but has recently been flirting with fiction and playing with poetry. Her passion for writing normally lies in the areas of social justice and equality. Her blog, The Covered Wagon, talks about her experiences being Jewish in a largely Christian area and her journey into becoming a doula, midwife, and "lactivist" out of her passion for women's health and her own pregnancy/birth experiences.

(Untitled 1)

they smile after playing

take what they need

want less

have coffee

and grow from the past

is it not why we love?

(Untitled 2)

I am not surrendering to my brain

I have nothing to give

when I can only see blackness

my head full of horrible focus

today let me fail you

let my fire get cold as death

inhale the ocean

suffocate on the future

and vanish

~~~~~~~

I'm more than happy to share beauty and passion with the world. If you are interested in sharing poetry or short fiction here, please comment below. (All comments are monitored before posting, so your request will be privately emailed to me.)

Melting

walls ...
the color of tears
melt slowly to nothing
like ice
cream drips
on a hot summer day

from one touch of the tongue
to that sweet burning gaze
unfreezing
these walls
dissolved into tears

making me savor
frozen need
you create
sparkling in eyes
that behind these walls
… wait

Flirting

It’s little more than a breeze
a moment on the skin
It’s only a minute
before the flutter sets in

It’s something you know
a simple look, a glance
Where you finally feel
you can take a chance

It feels so simple
in the moment you feel
like all that you wanted
becomes less than surreal

It’s one simple word
a meaningful nod
where eyes burn like fire
to melt the facades

There’s little about it
that’s less than cliche
but it never seems to matter
because it takes us away.

Thank God for this New Laughter...

I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear
~"Born" (Over the Rhine)

I'm laughing today. Not just at the moon. Not just at the night. Not just in some feeble attempt to convince myself that I'm happy. Today, I am truly laughing.

It's just... Something as small as laughter. Something as important as laughter. Something that I haven't fully experienced for a while. Something I'm afraid to allow myself to experience most of the time, because of what it usually means for me.

See, laughter often signifies a manic episode. I become hyper-active, bounce off the walls, fail to sleep (and sometimes eat), and laugh hysterically over stupid things; I'm invincible and uninhibited and I am literally unstoppable. And I'm often not aware of it. Oh, I know how I feel and I know how I'm acting, but it doesn't register.

It registers more clearly when I hit the intense irritability and anger, the almost paranoia over the feeling of spinning completely and wildly out of control, the panic attacks that make it impossible to breathe with stabbing knives in my heart, and the inability to stop laughing, even when it's wildly inappropriate to laugh.

During my last manic episode, I made a comment on Twitter about how the upside to a manic insomnia was the ability to go all night without sleeping and still feel charged and ready to go the next day. A friend replied with something to the effect of, "I think all moms should be manic."

No, Sweetheart, you really don't want that. Manic episodes are terrifying, and not just for me, but for everyone around me. Sure, I'm far more productive during those periods, but I'm also entirely unpredictable and irrational, and no child should ever have to deal with a mother like that. Happily, my mania is mild, my kids are in good hands, and I have the help I need to make sure we're all taken care of when necessary.

Still, because of this, laughter has become a bit of a warning signal for me. A symptom of something else that has incredibly ominous potential. And so, it's been a long time since I have been able to enjoy laughter this much.

But I do. Today, I do. This is a new laughter, a healing laughter. This is a laughter that overflows from hope and love.

Because I have found reasons for laughter. Reasons to believe that the pain of the past couple years might actually be closing and a new chapter in my life might actually be opening.

And this chapter might actually be full of real, honest, and non-mania-induced laughter.

Finding You

Each petal opens
awakes to the sun
as the new drops fall
making them glow

marking beauty within

blossoming to the world
as this flower unfolds
excruciatingly slow
some things can't be rushed
and pulling them apart
will just leave them crushed

The Colors of the Wind

My son's art lesson this week was on the use of colors in poetry. I was thrilled, and the song from Disney's Pocahontas kept playing in my mind (an environmentally/socially conscious poet's anthem*). I don't want my child to see the world in black and white. I want him to see all the colors in the wind and all the shades of grey in the rainbow.

In the poem he wrote, there are typical 6yo silliness, but there are also truths far beyond his years. I couldn't have been more proud. He loves playing with words and colors almost as much as his mommy does.

So, here is his color poem. I will leave spelling errors in tact, to preserve poetic (and 6yo) integrity.

Red on my bed,

Blue on my shoe,

Pink is the link,

Brown on my crown,

Green behind my lean,

White is the spite,

Yellow is the color of my jell-o,

Clear of my tear,

Black of my slack,

Tan in the pan,

riming,

riming,

riming.

~~~~~~~

* Side note: His science lesson was on recycling, pollution, and taking care of the planet. WIN!

This is Where

I come from...

the flowers on the mountain

the sunset in his eyes

the first snowfall of winter

the rain trapped in the sky

the crunch of autumn stillness

the moonbeam's starry cry

the piper's race with sea surf

and the dusk where shadows die

Flash Fiction Friday: "Shards"

"I would have said something, but I knew it wouldn't matter."

He looked at her, studied her face slowly, trying to figure out whether he agreed or disagreed. He raised his coffee to his lips, staring over the edge at her, buying time he knew they didn't have.

"Why?" It was a simple word, punctuated in frustration by the cup clunking on the counter.

"Because... I..." she shrugged and even her shoulders frowned. He understood that she didn't know why.

"We can find a way..." he tried to figure out if his voice even realized he wasn't coming along for the ride.

"You don't know how."

"No. I suppose I really don't." He stood, his eyes still searching for some reason.

"Shall I get your coat?"

"I guess." He watched her go, knowing that he should follow, not sure of exactly why.

He glanced around the kitchen, where the tea cups lined the top of the cupboards. He counted slowly.

One...

Two...

Three...

He didn't need to count, but it was what he did in times like this. He already knew there were seventeen... and a half. The broken one at the end was the last he'd given her.

She returned then, interrupting his count, holding his coat toward him limply. He couldn't read her expression. It seemed to be a mixture of resignation, frustration, and... sympathy? Did she really feel bad for this?

Shrugging into his jacket, he sighed.

"Can I have it?"

"Have what?" she asked and he gazed up behind her, waiting for her to turn around. "You want that?"

"Please?"

"Why? It's broken. I was going to throw it away."

"I know. I still want to fix it."

"Pieces are missing you know."

"Yes."

"What will you do with it?"

"I don't know, but I want to fix it somehow."

She nodded slowly and he knew that he wasn't the only one who had no idea what he was doing. Pulling a chair from the kitchen table, he climbed carefully up to the cupboard and reverently picked up the half of the cup that was there on the saucer. There were a few shards still there as well and he gathered them too.

"Do you have a paper bag?"

He looked down to see she was already holding one up to him. She always had known what he needed before he did. Packaging the pieces slowly, deliberately, and almost sacredly, he glanced yet again at the line along the shelves. Regardless what happened, he knew they would stay there. She wouldn't be able to part with them.

Neither of them said a word as he climbed back down carefully and returned the chair to its place at the table. It belonged, even if he didn't. There should always be five chairs at the table.

Turning at the door, he took one last look into her face. He felt he needed to say something.

"Make them butterscotch pancakes for breakfast. They deserve at least that much." It was hollow and they both knew it.

The door thudded softly and he shuffled through the leaves on the walk on his way to his car. The porch light went out as he slid behind the steering wheel and he realized he had nowhere to go.

He opened the bag and peered inside. Even if there were parts missing, she'd loved this once.

Even if she didn't think it mattered, he'd find a way to fix this.

It's a Purple Thing... You Wouldn't Understand

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them. " ~ Mother Theresa

Today there are thousands (millions?) of people wearing purple. And there are probably far more people who are upset about it for one reason or another. And that makes me angry.

It truly doesn't matter how you feel about who should sleep with who or whatever (and this is not a statement of my opinion on that in any way ~ I will discuss that only in private because it's not the point). The point is that people have a right to decide that for themselves.

People also have the right to be able to walk in public ~ full members of society, knowing that they matter just as much as everyone else and not having to be afraid of how people will treat them.

People also have the right to see more options in their lives than to have to kill themselves out of despair and escape from the hatred and violence resulting from intolerance.

People also have the right to express these opinions without other people being inconsiderate assholes about it by downplaying the issue, making jokes about the situation, or using this issue as a platform for their own political or religious agenda. That's right, I went there.

People need to realize that hiding their hatred behind their "Christianity" (or any other religion) makes God CRY!

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." ~ Matt 22:36-40 (NIV)

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." ~ 1 Cor 13:13 (NIV)

16 years of Christian education and I cannot find in the bible where hatred in any form is okay.

Don't mess with me. Especially NOT today.

Not gonna lie... This rant was well-warranted (and a long-time coming). I'm not apologizing for the anger inherent in it. It's holy anger ~ anger over injustice and lack of compassion.

I'm not sorry for saying these things.

Not now.

Not ever.

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Still Waters

I woke this morning

with the awareness of you

lying beside me

your arms around me

your breath on my neck

your heart beating in mine

deep in the center of all that I am

You run deep through my veins

mingling in warm blood

quenching my withering thirst

flowing endlessly through

the basis of all that I am

Always there

Through unstable events

Through mitigating circumstances

Through life and death

in me and through me

and all that I am

Live, Love, and Laugh

You've all seen it. It's everywhere in plaques, stationery, Facebook flair, etc.: that little motto life, love, and laughter with all of it's variations. My personal favorite:

Live like there is no tomorrow
Sing as if no one can hear
Love like you have never been hurt
Dance as if nobody is watching
Laugh like no one is listening.

It's a call to seize the day (carpe diem), but it's more than that to me. It's a call to abundant life, a statement of faith. It's about the triune God and the nature of who (S)He is.

Jesus is Life incarnate. The perfect melding of divinity and humanity. The victor over life and death. The ultimate example of how to live this life that we have and how to prioritize the things we deem important.

The Father/Mother is Love. It takes a loving and relational God to decide that it's not good to be alone, and therefore creates and loves an entire planet. Everything is done in love and through love, because of the fact that we are the children of the Supreme Father/Mother.

The Spirit is Laughter. This isn't a direct quote from scripture, but the Spirit helps and guides us and I think makes life worth living. The Spirit is the hardest to explain for a lot of people. Incorporeal. Abstract. Kind of like laughter. Joy.

This is, in no way, a complete statement of beliefs, but it is, in part, my creed -- what I aspire toward in my life. And, frankly, the rest of theology is fun to debate but really doesn't matter in the light of who God is. I want to be life, love, and laughter to the world around me. Evidence that life is indeed worth living.

I'm not there yet and I doubt I ever will be entirely, but that doesn't stop me from striving for it. I will keep working toward being this and becoming more and more like the Creator who made me to be an image-bearer. I never want to find all the answers in this life. There is something about the mystery of the ongoing dance between the three persons in one that intrigues me and makes me trust more fully in God.

Anyone who claims to have all the truth or all the answers becomes arrogant in themselves and negates any need for this trust. This is the same arrogance that led Lucifer to say, "I will be like God." God is bigger than my finite mind can handle and I'm okay with that.

I need God to be God so that I can live, love, and laugh.

Circling the Breeze

circling

the edge

where the earth

meets the sea

along this space

in between

where I find

you and me

I trip

and I fall

as I land in

your arms

so we'll dance

for this moment

safe away

far from harm

as the waves

gently tease

kiss and nip

at our feet

swept away

in a whisper

like our hair

in the breeze

Rice & Beans

I'm horrible at self-discipline. Sacrifice is particularly rough for me and developing new patterns for myself practically kills me, to be honest. It's part of the human condition. We're made to be selfish and to guard our rights and possessions. And we think we deserve it all, like we've somehow earned what we have and it's ours.

I took a challenge this week. I spent three days eating only rice and beans. It was supposed to be five, according to the challenge. I only made it through three, and here's what I've learned (or at least remembered):

1. I'm weak and I need the support of my family and community. I was encouraged not to give up by my husband and several members of my community who also participated in this challenge, who acted as support, accountability and others who could identify with what I felt. I don't even attend the church which sponsored this challenge, but I learned about it through a friend, and it was something that I felt would be a good exercise for me in compassion, understanding, and even in spiritual discipline. This is the longest "fast" of any kind that I've ever done, and frankly, I'm actually proud I lasted as long as I did.
2. I live in an environment full of temptation. I'm not really sure which is worse, having no choice but to go to bed hungry, like the people with whom I set out to identify, or going to bed hungry because I CHOSE to participate in this, knowing that there were all sorts of other options in my house and watching my children eat whatever they wanted. There was ice cream in my freezer, bagels in my refrigerator, Oreos on my counter, all kinds of processed "convenience" foods in my pantry. There is also a slew of menus from various restaurants in the area to call for carry-out or delivery, and money in our checking account to be able to do so when "necessary."

A friend told me that this sort of exercise did nothing for her, that she's identified with "third world" countries by being there and walking the streets. For her, that's enough "awareness." For me, even after having walked through the villages of Grenada -- seeing the dirty huts they call homes, watching them climb trees to find bananas and mangoes just so they can have lunch, and eagerly awaiting the one delivery of water a day to their village just to have a drink (I'm not sure when - if ever - they had baths or showers and I don't know where they went to the bathroom) -- even after seeing all that and feeling my heart break, you know what I did? I returned back to the "base" where we stayed and had a warm shower, changed into clean clothes, and drank a tall glass of water. I grabbed a fresh banana from the stash in the cellar, and waited to be called to a huge dinner in the "mansion" house. My biggest concern was whether I had enough sunscreen for the trip to the beach the next day and I knew that I had a soft bed to look forward to, but still complained about sharing the room with the other girls because they were "noisy."

Stepping out of my comfort zone was essential to my understanding and awareness. It was an exercise in compassion. Even knowing it was temporary, it hurt. And I spent three days hurting deeply for those around the world who don't have a choice about what they eat. I have utmost respect for anyone who doesn't practice spiritual disciplines, and do not in anyway look down on them. We are all where we are, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Another friend mentioned that he was glad that the "golden goat" he worshipped didn't make him do things like that. While I laughed a little at the comment, I was frustrated at the same time. No one made me do this, and no one is a lesser person for NOT doing it. Like all practices, you get what you give, and it was all about the decision to participate and engage myself fully in the exercise. I wanted to learn. I wanted to be changed. And if I'd done it just to "jump on the bandwagon," I don't think it would have done anything for me either.

But I needed to be reminded of how blessed I am. I needed to be reminded that it's not a right to have the luxuries I think I "need." And I needed to be reminded in a very practical way that there are those who aren't so "lucky" and that there has to be more I can do.

And I was never so thankful for the gift of the warm bagel I had for breakfast this morning.

Happy Earth Day

There is so much I want to say and feel like I need to say about earth day, but I'm not going to say any of it. Because everyone has an opinion and everyone turns it into something political and it's just ... not. Frankly, I'm just not in a place to deal with any of that today.

So, instead, I'll just wish everyone a Happy Earth Day. Like Christmas, it doesn't matter if you believe in it or not; I do, so I wish you happiness regardless.

Do something to save the planet today. It's the only one we've got. Truth is regardless of politics or your personal beliefs on your responsibility to the earth, you do live here. So clean up after yourself. It's only fair to the others you share the space with.

Peace, love, and hippy freaks (which probably includes me).

Beautiful World (Part 2)

(...continued)

I don't understand how or why anyone would call themselves a follower of Christ and NOT be involved in sacrificing themselves for the needs of those around them. Jesus said:

• "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." (from Luke 18:24-26)
• "...whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." (from Matthew 25:31-46)

We all have passions and desires that guide our paths in life. One person cannot be expected to heal every hurt in the world. Even Jesus himself realized human limitations and took time to rest. He placed a trust in his bride to carry on his work when he left this world.

We don't have to do it all. We don't have to give away everything we own and live in a cardboard box just to "make God happy." That's not how it works. We are, however, asked to let go of those things that we feel we deserve and are owed to us, to lay down our claim to our "rights," and to be grateful for the things we take for granted in order to put others first.

I am part of an adoptive/fostering families group with my church. Every one of us has chosen to make a difference in the life of at least one child, by opening our families to include them. We know this is not something that everyone needs to do, but it's at least one way that we feel led to care.

This year, we're working on teaching our children what service to others means. The adults are working through a DVD series called Becoming a Good Samaritan, which is an excellent reality check for all of us. We are working on projects with our children where they learn to think of those who don't have as much as we do, like putting together "mystuff" bags with personal care items and toys for children who have been taken out of their homes with nothing the can call their own.

The idea is simple. Get out. Learn about what's going on outside your own little bubble. Find out how you can help someone, even in a small way. And help make this world more beautiful for those who can't see it on their own.

~~~~~~~

Need a simple place to start? It takes only seconds, but it could make a difference to hundreds of young people in Lancaster City, PA. Vote everyday in the month of April for Teen Haven to be the recipient of a $50,000 grant to remodel their gym.

More stuff on this:

• "The Hole in Our Gospel" by Richard Stearns
• LCBC's worship series, More Than This with challenges that foster awareness
• Inkling Media's #OthersFirst blog series (Who's On First?, Get Out There!, & Our Water Walk)

Beautiful World (Part 1)

We live in a beautiful world...

Oh all that I know is nothing to run from
Cause yeah everybody here got's somebody to lean on

~Coldplay "Don't Panic"

Look around you. No matter what you're dealing with, you have to agree there is beauty everywhere. And it's ours to appreciate, enjoy, and take care of. Too bad not everyone can see that, eh?

Guess what; If you're reading this, chances are you have everything you need, and probably a lot of what you want:

• a computer or access to one, which implies you live in an environment where there is electricity and other such comfort luxuries (running water, heat, etc.)
• a home or at least a roof over your head, most likely with several rooms, possibly even one just for your computer
• clothing, likely more than you can even wear, and the means with which to clean them with the touch of just a button or two, possibly even at your own home
• a variety of foods to eat and beverages to drink, some of which are likely already prepared or semi-prepared for you already
• some mode of transportation readily available to you, whether it's your own vehicle or public transportation
• access to necessary medicines and doctors, whether you pay for it or someone else does
• people who care about you and can help you out when you find yourself lacking in any of those things

And that's a partial list of what we have. Even if you're without a job, you probably have those things or you wouldn't be reading this.

How many people out there don't? This isn't politics. This is fact: we live in one of the richest countries in the world. Even the "poor" in this country, could go to a large percentage of countries on this planet, and be among the wealthiest people there.

And yet, we whine and complain when we don't have those things, or we don't get them the way we think we deserve to have them. When we lose our right to chose what we want for ourselves, we act like it's the end of the world.

And no wonder people around the world think we're selfish and arrogant.

(to be continued...)