The streets are alive with the sound of Friiiidayyyy...dee-deeeedle-deeeeee...
From pals at RevGals...it's the Friday Five!
Five of My Favorite Things
1.The morning's first sip of glorious, life-reviving, perfectly-dosed-with-milk, coffee.
2.The feeling of having a poem that I’m writing come together.
3.Being wrapped in the hug of a friend.
4.Sitting in my parish and being quiet for the hour or so before Mass begins
5.The joy in feeling what happens to me when I speak Spanish for extended periods of time—the shift of thinking, the attentiveness to language, the spectrum of expression that opens.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Word-photo
2 February, 6:30 AM, Bus Stop
Turning east I notice the tiers of light stretching over the river. Sunrise closest to the water, pushing open the covers of night; above that, the soft haze of hovering warm gray from the moments when neither completely awake nor fully asleep; next, the vast swath of dreams rolling their star-filled stories threaded with the light that lives just beyond, and tucking them carefully into their satchels.
Transient though this moment is, and alone as it might seem I am, I'm certain that in some way I am also sharing this with those in my life who would also appreciate this moment of a morning's becoming.
Turning east I notice the tiers of light stretching over the river. Sunrise closest to the water, pushing open the covers of night; above that, the soft haze of hovering warm gray from the moments when neither completely awake nor fully asleep; next, the vast swath of dreams rolling their star-filled stories threaded with the light that lives just beyond, and tucking them carefully into their satchels.
Transient though this moment is, and alone as it might seem I am, I'm certain that in some way I am also sharing this with those in my life who would also appreciate this moment of a morning's becoming.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Of Many Things
I am in the mood to write. Sometimes the urge just arrives and presents itself to be dealt with respectfully and kindly, regardless of what else I was doing at the time. That might mean picking up a pen and doing a quick line or two about the context of my writing at the time. Where am I? What am I doing? Who is there? What are they doing? What time is it? Where am I headed?-- so often it comes when I am out making haste on the pavement enroute to or from somewhere specific or no where in particular. Sometimes I simply stop and record the thought that I am pursuing at the moment.
No matter what comes out, I have learned over time that it is a good thing to honor that urge. The urge to write, the urge to pray, the urge to nap, the urge to be silent...somehow, all instinctive interior calls to 'center-down' in whatever ways situations allow.
Here are some lines from the last week's entries...
"John, choir director, told me the other day that notes are made up of harmonic waves. What if the note of the voice of God is also made up of those waves? Those waves being bits of the wind, bits of laughter, wailing, loving, soothing, shouting, mourning, foghorns, ram's horns, car horns... elements of the noise of life's fullness harmonizing into the note that is the voice of God."
"I just hit 'send' for my Discernment of Call for final profession. That's all I can say right now....it seems contemplating the direction I'd like to go for the rest of my life has overshadowed the formation of words. Oh, let me add-- Amen."
"Having just seen Inkheart...have to say that the plot is a grand and glorious one for me to consider-- The whole idea that reading aloud, giving voice, brings Word to life! Augh. The idea thrills me-the mystical power of the Word well proclaimed. Too, the idea of not living quite so bound to the here and now...the idea that I could be read into Robin Hood or The Swiss Family Robinson or send myself into the drawing room with Miss Marple or be climbing out of a hansom cab, swirling through gaslight taunting fog to knock on the door of 221B... Absolutely a dream."
No matter what comes out, I have learned over time that it is a good thing to honor that urge. The urge to write, the urge to pray, the urge to nap, the urge to be silent...somehow, all instinctive interior calls to 'center-down' in whatever ways situations allow.
Here are some lines from the last week's entries...
"John, choir director, told me the other day that notes are made up of harmonic waves. What if the note of the voice of God is also made up of those waves? Those waves being bits of the wind, bits of laughter, wailing, loving, soothing, shouting, mourning, foghorns, ram's horns, car horns... elements of the noise of life's fullness harmonizing into the note that is the voice of God."
"I just hit 'send' for my Discernment of Call for final profession. That's all I can say right now....it seems contemplating the direction I'd like to go for the rest of my life has overshadowed the formation of words. Oh, let me add-- Amen."
"Having just seen Inkheart...have to say that the plot is a grand and glorious one for me to consider-- The whole idea that reading aloud, giving voice, brings Word to life! Augh. The idea thrills me-the mystical power of the Word well proclaimed. Too, the idea of not living quite so bound to the here and now...the idea that I could be read into Robin Hood or The Swiss Family Robinson or send myself into the drawing room with Miss Marple or be climbing out of a hansom cab, swirling through gaslight taunting fog to knock on the door of 221B... Absolutely a dream."
Friday, January 23, 2009
Arts and Drafts
I finished the draft of my discernment for final vows today. The process of writing it was a good one and I am glad to be done with the first iteration. Next comes final editing, hopefully complete within a week. Then, off it goes to those who will read it and respond to it.
It is a humbling experience to do this...humbling and grounding...to listen for and be open to seeing/hearing the graceful, artful, movement of God in my being and life not in bits and pieces but rather a cohesive tale. The sonnet, the symphony, the abstract, the errors...it's all a part of finding voice and expression for the wonder of this journey. A student asked me recently what my vision is for what happens when we die. I said, "I believe we become the fullness of what we have sought all long..." The fullness of love, compassion, light, glory...because we are so open and so free...We are permeated with God, no inner or outer or one or the other, simply AH!" That is the direction I desire for my Life--encountering what I do not pretend to grasp but dearly hope and believe is more amazing than I could imagine. And it's already more than a little astounding.
It is a humbling experience to do this...humbling and grounding...to listen for and be open to seeing/hearing the graceful, artful, movement of God in my being and life not in bits and pieces but rather a cohesive tale. The sonnet, the symphony, the abstract, the errors...it's all a part of finding voice and expression for the wonder of this journey. A student asked me recently what my vision is for what happens when we die. I said, "I believe we become the fullness of what we have sought all long..." The fullness of love, compassion, light, glory...because we are so open and so free...We are permeated with God, no inner or outer or one or the other, simply AH!" That is the direction I desire for my Life--encountering what I do not pretend to grasp but dearly hope and believe is more amazing than I could imagine. And it's already more than a little astounding.
Give me Fever...
From RevGals...It's Friday Night Fever!
The promt for this week's Friday Five: "Help! Please give us five suggestions for combating cabin fever and staying cheerful in our monochromatic world!"
1. Write a sonnet about snow. The discipline of getting the syllables/feet right will take your mind off of the drifting flakes.
2. Re-organize your books into new categories. I used to love doing this as a kid in the wintertime. Who says fiction needs to be by author? Perhaps the color of the spine seems a fun way to go or maybe it's thickness or height! And this from a librarian! Yes, you have my official okay to try this at home.
3. Make an offering to the wind! Boil up some orange peel, cinnamon, clove, etc. and take the steaming pot outside--set it in a drift--and let the wind pick up the sweetly scented steam. Homemade incense, in a way.
4. Make personalized crossword puzzles for those you love.
5. Start an email recipe exchange and try something new for dinner!
The promt for this week's Friday Five: "Help! Please give us five suggestions for combating cabin fever and staying cheerful in our monochromatic world!"
1. Write a sonnet about snow. The discipline of getting the syllables/feet right will take your mind off of the drifting flakes.
2. Re-organize your books into new categories. I used to love doing this as a kid in the wintertime. Who says fiction needs to be by author? Perhaps the color of the spine seems a fun way to go or maybe it's thickness or height! And this from a librarian! Yes, you have my official okay to try this at home.
3. Make an offering to the wind! Boil up some orange peel, cinnamon, clove, etc. and take the steaming pot outside--set it in a drift--and let the wind pick up the sweetly scented steam. Homemade incense, in a way.
4. Make personalized crossword puzzles for those you love.
5. Start an email recipe exchange and try something new for dinner!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Friday 5--This One's On Me
The pals at RevGals posed this one for consideration..."Whether it's new friends or new loves or new employers, what are five things people should know about you?"
1. The wonder and adventure of God thrills me and fills me to the core of my being
2. I love, love, love, words and language...the sounds of them, feelings of them in my mouth, textures to the ear, intricacies of meaning and nuance...
3. I can speak to an audience of 500+ and not blink an eye but rate high on the Introvert scale of Myers Briggs
4. Logic and the imagination are in near constant, comfortable, conversation within me.
5. I carry a stone in my pocket every day.
1. The wonder and adventure of God thrills me and fills me to the core of my being
2. I love, love, love, words and language...the sounds of them, feelings of them in my mouth, textures to the ear, intricacies of meaning and nuance...
3. I can speak to an audience of 500+ and not blink an eye but rate high on the Introvert scale of Myers Briggs
4. Logic and the imagination are in near constant, comfortable, conversation within me.
5. I carry a stone in my pocket every day.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
@#$%!&*!
I spent my religion class today talking about oaths, swearing, blasphemy, perjury, and cursing with twelve year olds...
As might be expected, the latter term was deemed by the students the most worthy of our time. First stop, what is a curse? Wishing evil upon someone or intentionally stripping away someone's inherent dignity by calling for certain actions against them.
A student asked about why certain words became associated with cursing rather than other words that might have been chosen--an interesting and thoughtful question that got us into the context of use. "Apple" still means for most a yellow, green, or red juicy, sweet/tart, crunchy fruit that quenches thirst, fills the stomach and is commonly used in pie. But, if the word "apple" is used in a rage, verbally flung at someone in an argument, or yelled in anger, the associations might begin to change. We also talked about the actual sounds of words that would make a list of "curse words." Many are harsh sounding, sharp lettered, and slice at the ear...compared to, say, "lullaby" or even "belly button." The students are twelve, remember. The meanings behind some of the words that "make the list" also refer to crude, violent acts. So, history, sound, meaning, tone of delivery, surrounding context of delivery, social mores, who is saying it... all converge in varying degrees to determine "why this one and not that one."
I kept thinking to myself that I hope they remember this conversation, at least for a little while. Understanding the influence of the myriad of associations people make with word use and language is a lesson for living. Why a particular image of God? Why are some names for God so hard for people? Heaven? Good? Acceptable? Proper?
Yes, a rose by any other name...but also, hope is a thing with feathers. Feathers, not armor. To this writer, at least, that makes a difference.
My kids make a difference too.
As might be expected, the latter term was deemed by the students the most worthy of our time. First stop, what is a curse? Wishing evil upon someone or intentionally stripping away someone's inherent dignity by calling for certain actions against them.
A student asked about why certain words became associated with cursing rather than other words that might have been chosen--an interesting and thoughtful question that got us into the context of use. "Apple" still means for most a yellow, green, or red juicy, sweet/tart, crunchy fruit that quenches thirst, fills the stomach and is commonly used in pie. But, if the word "apple" is used in a rage, verbally flung at someone in an argument, or yelled in anger, the associations might begin to change. We also talked about the actual sounds of words that would make a list of "curse words." Many are harsh sounding, sharp lettered, and slice at the ear...compared to, say, "lullaby" or even "belly button." The students are twelve, remember. The meanings behind some of the words that "make the list" also refer to crude, violent acts. So, history, sound, meaning, tone of delivery, surrounding context of delivery, social mores, who is saying it... all converge in varying degrees to determine "why this one and not that one."
I kept thinking to myself that I hope they remember this conversation, at least for a little while. Understanding the influence of the myriad of associations people make with word use and language is a lesson for living. Why a particular image of God? Why are some names for God so hard for people? Heaven? Good? Acceptable? Proper?
Yes, a rose by any other name...but also, hope is a thing with feathers. Feathers, not armor. To this writer, at least, that makes a difference.
My kids make a difference too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)