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.

Stranger

She knew their secrets
could name each one
as they laughed
and made their "jokes"
not once realizing
that truth would astound
and the things they held close
and hid under the skin
weren't fiction
or so far away

Mosaic

What you see

is the intricate

the thousands of details

the tiny stones within

you engage in the trivia

of type, origin and history

cut, color, and value

and the reason that all of it matters

What we see

is abstract

and what brings it together

the beauty this picture creates

through interplay of parts

and of pieces entwined
into one unified whole

but without each other

your view would be pointless

rendering single stones meaningless

and ours left incomplete

with holes in the whole

of the unfinished art
that we see

so understanding
acceptance
and the allowance of us
draw essentials together
to help us become
perfect balance of

yin and yang

http://www.truthseekerart.com/catalog/i46.html

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

Flash Fiction Friday: "Who's There?"

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Interrupting cow."

"Interrupting --"

"MOOOO!!!"

The triumphant crow of my two-year-old in the back seat of the van would be adorable if I hadn't heard this joke a thousand times. ~ in the past hour alone.

"Knock, knock." She starts again. I sigh and glance at the dashboard clock. Just ten more minutes and we'll be home.

"Who's there?" Her brother, nowhere near as bored with this joke or his sister, answers with a grin.

"Interrupting --"

"MOOOO!!! Gotcha!" He beats her to the punch and they both giggle raucously. My head is pounding. Again.

"Knock, knock." I should really just be happy they're not picking on each other.

"Who's there?"

"Interrupting MOM!" I shout in annoyance and growl, "Knock it off. Both of you! No more knock, knock jokes!"

As I glance in the rearview mirror at them to see if they plan to obey me, I experience a twinge of guilt at the shock and hurt I see on their faces.

"I'm sorry," I backpedal. "Mommy has a headache. Can you please try to be quiet for the rest of the trip home?"

The excuse is worn out to them. Mommy always has a headache. It's a permanent part of my personality, just like the angry outbursts. Still, they try to comply.

I want so badly to tell them I'm wrong ~ and I do ~ often. But it changes nothing. Tomorrow will be the same. More pounding head and noisy children being yelled at.

I don't mean to. It comes out before I know what I'm saying, and I'm helpless to stop it. People think I'm awful.

I think I'm awful.

I pull into the driveway and unload my children. It's time for naps.

Finally, after minutes which seem like hours of screaming and crying ~ both them and me, we're snuggled in bed. Together. Because that's what we need.

And just as I'm drifting off to sleep, feeling like maybe the nap might stop the knocking in my skull for just a little, I hear it downstairs.

Knock, knock.

"Interrupting cow!" I mutter as I extricate myself from between my two snoring children.

And, just to taunt me, it's as repetitive as the banter in the car.

Knock, knock.

Swimming in Space

there's a hole

inside the universe

just past that little star

right on the edge

of this small planet

underneath of where we are

there's a spaceship

in the ocean

way below that coral reef

where the starfish rides his seahorse

in the shadows

of the deep

there's a manatee

that's hiding in the corner

of my dream

after all these bits of fancy

make my logic

want to scream

Of Sporting Events and Nostalgia

There's a funny thing about memories. They define us: our likes, our dislikes, our passions, our pains, the how and why we do and say the things we do. Our memories (based on our experiences) make us into the people we become, and good or bad, they shape our world view.

Some of my friends from twitter are at a baseball game today. Because I pop into twitter from time to time throughout the day, I'm seeing the pictures: the parking lot full of cars, the marquis with the Phillies logo & the Phanatic, the excitement & anticipation of the stadium full of people, the over-priced stadium food, and yes, even the game itself. I don't even like baseball, but I want to go.

Why? Because I have happy memories of going to a baseball game with my daddy when I was fairly young. And yes, it was a Phillies game. And yes, they won. And it was a beautiful sunny day, just like today. And all was right with the world.

On the other hand, I have no desire to ever go to a football game of any type. I didn't even go to high school games with my friends. My only memory of a football game, was sitting on the bleachers, alone in the cold wind & the pouring rain. I had to have been in kindergarten or younger, because the only reason I was there was because my daddy was running the lines for Gettysburg College's team while I assume my mom was working.

I enjoy shooting hoops but not watching basketball or playing a "real" game. I enjoy kicking the soccer ball around but not actually playing (and I'm ambivalent about watching). And I call myself a Flyers fan even though I have never seen them live and haven't been to a single hockey game since high school. But none of this has anything to do with the games themselves so much as the people & the experiences associated with them.

Nostalgia is like that. It colors how we remember things in an over-idealized way. It exaggerates the details (good & bad) and makes them bigger than life. The trick is to master the memories and not allow them to master us. Save & grow from the good. Accept & learn from the bad. Shape the glass through which we view our memories and let them reveal the why rather than define the who of the person we become.

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.

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.

The Ceremony of the Dress

Burning
for Brenda

The strong are the ones
who've learned
to let go
who have walked through
the fire and left
some behind

as the dress slowly melted
to colorful flame
we shared in the awe of how
quickly it went
this one moment of time
this brief whisper
of life
flaring in violence
in a smoking black blaze

Amid tearful relief
this memorial to grief
in unspoken goodbyes held
in this breaking of time
and of moments we share

we hold what we've lost
in these scars in our keeping
and this knowing
we are
and still learning
what matters while watching
life burn

now this sacred rite passes
in the flowing of beer
our spectres released
of the things that once were
wafting on puffs
of stubborn cigars

What happens here, stays here,
but we carry it inside,
knowing we celebrate
with others who've vanished
and lost to the night
renewing hope for the future
gaining strength from this burn.

***apologies for the sound quality on this video. I'm not an editor.

#Twitchicks present: crazywidow, c_visual, jacksvalentine, jamiebentley, jbairy, jessm918, lholubec, mk_girl, mrsbenedict

Psychotropic

So I'm floating away

with nothing to stop me

no net to catch me

and I know that I'll fall

but I'm almost indifferent

lost in nonchalant apathy

like it wouldn't even matter

if no one was there

and the stakes are so high

that I can't even see them

and if I just pretend

they'll cease to exist

I'm not sure which is worse

the heart-rending pain

or this empty existence

where all feeling is numbed

Haiku for the Dawn

Tired of the fighting

"Girl, shut up and sit down now!"

Inside the heart weeps

Where I Live

This is a map to where I live.

It's convoluted and most often, the quickest route to where you're headed is not necessarily the shortest. It seems to me there is always a lot of traffic on the roads, and conversation is easily derailed.

You can't get to where I live without this map, but for some reason people often try, as if something as simple as their internal sense of direction or a GPS will get them where they want to go. A simple stop at Google Maps won't do it either, as the web version is nothing more than a mere shadow of reality.

It's important to note, this map may be a bit outdated and may not be drawn to scale. Objects in the mirror may actually be closer than they appear, and there's always construction on the path. My apologies for the detours, the early exits, and the necessity of back country roads. You really can't get to where I live without enjoying the scenery or without truly appreciating and experiencing this road trip.

Please note as well, the landmarks and the mentions of where things "used to be," but don't worry if you missed them. Sometimes even I do. I realize that it's easy to lose your way in this ever-changing scape, but that same quality of never-ending shifting means there are always new and different paths to explore. These new and sometimes better paths continue to emerge for those who want to find where I live, and spend time with me in this place where I am.

Slouching Toward Summer

A Martyred Memoir


They giggled as they ran through the field. Chasing one another, looking not quite alike, but not entirely different. They lived in different places, barely knew each other, but the bond between them was stronger than trust. It was blood.

As their grandmother watched through the farm-kitchen window, they hefted their bags over shoulders. The lunch she'd prepared to be eaten later bumped on their backs as they ran.

There were three boys and three girls, the six that were caught in the middle. The two looked like twin sisters to the indiscriminating eye, and they liked to pretend they were, although they lived miles apart.

Hot sun pounded down as they kicked off their shoes, sweltering toes released. As their freely bared feet padded through hills of weeds, all warnings of ticks and snakes were ignored, exchanged for the freedom of summer and this distance from rules.

As they topped the last hill and began their descent, the cool water of the creek invited. Dropping shoes and lunches on the bank of the creek, they raced toward the edge. "Last one in is a rotten egg," but no one bothered to note who that was.

They splashed for a few minutes and cooled themselves off, before returning to their bags on the shore. They opened the treasures that Gramma had packed: buttered bread, cold chicken pieces, sweet pickles, and still warm sugared cookies.

Laughing and teasing as if always friends, the six of them shared this meal.

The sun inspired a glistening sweat as they finished the last of their food. Quickly, they stuffed empty wrappers and shoes back into bags and threw them in a heap, before returning to the relief of the creek.

Several minutes later, the happy splashing became an all out war of girls vs. boys. What little they'd done to try to keep clothes dry, was thrown to the wind amid huge tidal waves created by their arms.

It was when she lost her footing and fell to the stony bottom of the creek, her ankle cut and knee skinned, that she screamed loud enough to cause them all to stare, frozen.

The eyes black as night simply glared at her as the body lashed against her leg. The angry hiss was covered by the shrieking of the other five, scrambling toward the bank, desperate to escape this sudden danger.

Never in their lives had they moved so fast, gathering their things as they fled.

She was last to get out, mesmerized by those eyes, and faltering to even stand. As she pulled herself out from the now-tainted space, she noted the others had left her behind.

She decided to run, but her feet wouldn't listen. Instead they turned in a fascinated draw. She stood on the bank and stared at the snake, striking visciously at nothing at all.

Somehow she knew this would be her whole life: constantly running from imaginary danger.

You Think You Know

The sky I was born under
was mysteriously calm
as if holding its breath
awaiting the sound
of whatever I turned out to be

In broad daylight
with the moon overhead
the stars awaited their fall

For some time later
the planets would align
under differing orders
than this

It was time then and now
as the seasons just changed
over and over they found
something amiss
in the clouded clear sky
opening slowly to flame


~~~~~~~

"You think you know, what's to come, what you are. You haven't even begun." ~ Tara in "Restless" (Buffy, season 4)

Going Dark

I worry too much. I have a lot of time to think. This week I had too much. I felt the need to "Go Dark" for a day. I was online in the evening for about an hour or so, but the rest of the day was offline.

I'm at home with my kids all day, and let's face it: there are only certain parts of my brain that are stimulated by repeating letters of the alphabet over and over to my 2yo and playing silly guessing games with my 6yo. I love to color, but I can't do that for 12 hours straight either. I can now recite most of Cars and nearly every Winnie the Pooh movie, answer Elmo's questions in my sleep, and put together most of the puzzles and games in our house without paying attention to what I'm doing.

There are a million projects that need attention around my house, but I honestly don't have the energy or motivation to do many of them (particularly when it's more pleasant to sit and chat or surf online). Plus, it's hard to do them with a 2yo undoing everything faster than you can even do it. Now that my hubby is home during the day, I've actually been able to accomplish a few of those things I've been neglecting. It's nice, but honestly, it wears me out. I'm used to having quiet, low key, low energy days.

At any rate, I've gotten used to spending most of my day online. It's not uncommon to sit down to check my email and then somehow realize the morning is gone. The online world is my escape, my connection to people outside these four walls. I honestly have no clue how stay-at-home moms survived before the internet. I'm plugged in and connected all day. I'm up and down, here and there, but I'm always connected.

And, as nice as it is to have that connection, it's not always a good thing. It makes it easier to neglect the little things around my house, both tasks and children sometimes. I've become the queen of procrastination because there's plenty of time tomorrow to do that. I smile and nod at the incessant "knock-knock" jokes without really listening.

All of that is to say, I've been pondering for a while now taking a day each week to be offline. Here's why:

1. Our worship team has been discussing the spiritual discipline of fasting. For medical reasons, it's not practical for me to skip meals (nor is it healthy), but there are other things that intrude upon my relationship with God far more than food, and these are the things I need to be cautious of.
2. I have been discussing my internet reliance with a group of friends in an online forum. It's kind of difficult to explain the nature of our relationship, but suffice it to say, we've become like family. We've realized we share this common addiction, and have agreed to dedicate one day a week as "no tech" day. This means something different to each of us and that's ok, but we're there to encourage one another in this.
3. One of my friends on twitter came up with a suggestion of taking tech vacations for your own personal health. Granted, staring at a computer screen all day is hard on the eyes and tends to make my back and shoulders tense.
4. I'm beginning to develop unhealthy relationship patterns. This has been growing for a LONG time, but I find myself being more and more agoraphobic and just wanting to hide at home relying on my computer to be my main social outlet.
5. The more time I'm online, the more I feel the NEED to be. Taking just one day to be offline, I find means that I don't feel as strongly drawn to be online all day the rest of the week either. It's sort of like I've given myself permission to be unavailable once in a while, and I realize I'm regaining control of my time.

I realize I have an unhealthy addiction and it's time to face it. Cold Turkey is not an option for me, because a lot of the reasons I became reliant on the internet are still valid. I still need that outlet and the internet is honestly the most practical place to have it as it requires no need to find a sitter just to "get out" and socialize. There are a lot of benefits to staying connected online. I just intend not to let the internet rule my life as I confess I have in the past. I can do one day a week, and work from there.

Even Jesus understood the practice of "drawing away from the world" was necessary.

Outside My Window

I’ve waited too long
so when I look out now,
I see only silence in black
with only the faintest glimmer
of soft moonlight hidden
behind faraway, stubborn clouds.

It’s almost like nothing,
this empty expanse
full of distant echoes
and disappearing shadows

Why is it so dark
outside my window
when everything in here is so clear?

If I turn out the light
and get lost in the night
will I find rest
in the falling of stars?

One Lovely Blog Award

Vicky Burkholder, writer of fantasy and paranormal romance, awarded me the "One Lovely Blog Award," and I would like to thank her (and the academy and... oh... wait, wrong award). I am honored to be a part of this apparently long running tradition.

In following with the tradition of One Lovely Blog, I hereby pass this award along to Susan:an artist of words, an explorer of beauty, and a friend of the heart and soul. This award is for her personal blog as well as for her writing blog: Typescript ~ which exists to encourage and assist writers by providing writing prompts, book giveaways, and the occasional first person author's anecdote. Her words and her friendship have been invaluable to me. Thanks, Susan!

For the second part of the award, I'm supposed to tell you ten things about myself you might not know, so here goes:

1. I play the flute, but haven't done so in public for years (aside from a brief moment of insanity in the past year where I actually brought it out to play during a rehearsal for the worship band that I sing with).
2. I design jewelry, both in real life and in Second Life. I haven't sold much (in either place), but I enjoy the creative challenge of both.
3. For my birthday, freshman year in college, my brother bought me the super~mega~deluxe box of Crayola crayons and some coloring books. It's what I asked for. I still love to color and it's one of my favorite past-times. I am a Crayola snob and don't like to use any other crayons.
4. I've never really learned to roller skate or swim. I can survive at either, but it's just not pretty.
5. My children are the only grandkids on both sides of the family, which makes for interesting holidays and birthdays.
6. My first job was, "Would you like to supersize your value meal?"
7. I have been outside the country three times, but never to a non-English speaking country. I could however, get by in most countries that speak romance languages.
8. When my husband first suggested we watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I thought he had lost his marbles. I have now seen nearly every episode at least a half dozen times, and quote it frequently.
9. I know the difference between American Sign Language and Signed English, and have been nearly fluent in both at one time or another.
10. I have friends in every continent of the world except Antarctica, but I sure do love penguins!

Skeletons

Reaching for my flute-case
amid the poly-cotton blends
brought back lazy summer melodies
where memories couldn’t end

Like the bright magenta lacquer
displayed with love on tiny fingers
far too small to really grasp
all this chaos while it lingered

As you laughed at me, hysterical,
while I used words without command ~
some that earned me silly nicknames
and some I still don’t understand

You know I noted your attendance
in the roster for my day
just as I'd noted, then, your absence
As he carried me away

I won’t be home this Saturday
But then… you haven’t been for years

After Midnight

She lies awake,
embracing her cold
lonely
forgotten child.

Waiting for it to stop
this discomfort
this pain
this miserable
crying hunger.

If she could just
feed it
change it
sing it to sleep,
she knows she could
fall back to sleep herself.

But the child's not consoled
not by her mere words
or just wishing
for silence
and rest

And pacing the floor
is the only way
to silence
the babbling voice.

For this inner child
needs her attention
before it completely dies.