Something is better than Nothing... ?

I am trying to write every day--or at least on most days--but on some days it is immensely harder than on others.
On some days the stories flow, the thoughts pour out, and my heart is open and singing.
On others, today, the silence is ... disheartening.
On those days, the reasons not to write sound extremely compelling, and it's tempting to just ignore the discipline altogether.
On those days it is hard to string two words together, and all I want to put up here is a fun little message to the world to just bugger off and leave me alone.
On these days I want to run far & run fast away from... myself.

Somewhere along the way I got this notion in my head that problems are localized to the place they occur in, that if you leave that place the problems will get left behind.
In my head I know that this is false, but in my gut? In the core of my being? I still think if I change my address I will leave the old problems behind and get to deal with new ones.

Being an Army brat does weird things to a person's psyche.

But it doesn't work that way when the problem is me, and that's a fact I have had a hard time coming to terms with.
So I get to write about that. Not very interesting, not new, not terribly positive, but it's all my mind is stringing together at the moment. Rather than writing nothing, I will write this something, and hope for more at another time.

"You don't have to be great to get started, but you do have to get started to be great."
~Les Brown

Winter

It's winter.
I know that seems kind of obvious--especially with the snow on the ground & the temperature being in the 20s--but it sneaks up on me every year.
And every year I struggle with my love/hate for this season. I usually enjoy the outdoors--for most of the year I would rather eat lunch in the open hatchback of my car than just about anywhere else. But this particular season evokes such strong & conflicting feelings...

I hate being cold.
I love getting to bundle up in the hats & scarves & coats & boots.
I hate that it gets so dark, and so early!
I love how vivid the stars appear in the wintry night sky.
I hate how scary driving gets in this weather.
I love the snowball fights.
I hate scraping the car off anytime I leave it alone for too long.
I love how awake & alive the bracing air makes me feel.
I hate how it gets so cold that just breathing is painful.
I love cuddling with Husband under warm blankets.
I hate the almost-constant grey skies.
I love the muffled silence that comes with every snowfall.
I hate how long it takes my car to warm up.
I love the warm drinks that heat me up after being frozen outside.
I hate the cold winds--"windchill" is an evil abomination created by Satan.
I love how everything looks so much more beautiful with a layer of snow on it.
I hate how dried-out my lips & skin get.
I love getting to experience winter & Christmas & snow as a married gal for the first time ever... getting to see all this with him has been amazing.

I am looking forward to Spring, as I do every year. Had I been born pre-Christ, I very likely would have been a sun-worshiper...

Apathy

Passion is contagious.
So is apathy.
The older I get, the more I realize the truth of the old caution: be careful who you surround yourself with.
It's not because of fear of "guilt by association", but fear of something much less obvious, far more... sinister.
The attitudes of those around me can very easily become my attitude.

Is this why Jesus was so vehement in His decrying of the Lukewarm church in Revelation?
Not only was this church neither cold nor hot, but their apathy was a poison that--left unchecked--could contaminate all the passion around them, the passion of new believers coming to this church would be soured and quenched.

Personally, I tend to be a bit... extreme... in the things I do. I like to throw myself whole-heartedly into life and all therein. But if I lose that excitement, then I swing very much the other direction & I become very difficult to motivate. I do nothing half-way, including apathy--which is why I hate it so much when I find it in myself.

Whenever I realize I've slid into that mentality again... It makes me so angry. Oddly enough, this is a good thing--it's usually when I finally get angry enough to act that the apathy gets burnt in a fire of outrage.

But there's always that stage before, when I am filled with this curious mix of apathy, simmering rage, and bitterness.
Or is that what bitterness is? Apathy and anger mixed with inaction--just stewing and roiling inside, poisoning every interaction and seeping into others? May I never linger long in that place!

I'd rather just get angry, do something, and move on.

A Meditation on Imaginary Friends

It's been so long since I heard her voice--years, in fact.
But now... I think I can, just a little, a faint sighing borne to me on a whispy breeze.
Her voice is so very faint, and the only one I can hear... for now.
Yet, I take heart--at least I can hear something. All is not that awful silence that it was...
The music is coming back... I can feel it in my bones, even if I cannot quite hear it yet.
Hearing is still difficult though, and exhausting at times.
Seeing though, that's a different matter.

She is hidden from me, from everyone who could find her. Shape-shifters can be difficult to find, and she has taken the form of a small black cat with brilliant green eyes. Her eyes is the only thing about her that she cannot completely change in her efforts to flee herself. The golden locks that reminded me of sunshine, the voice filled with laughter that always broke into song, the smile that gave fearless reassurance--all that is gone. But those eyes, green as emeralds, deep with sorrow and pain, they are as they have always been.

There is comfort in knowing some things never change--even if the unchangeable is pain.

The black cat wanders aimlessly, forgetting all that she once was. She remembers no more the battles fought and won, the friends now departed, the lover lost, the quest neglected, even her own name eludes her memory. She truly has given herself up to being no more than a feline. Hunting rodents, evading stones thrown by children, enjoying the occasional scratch behind the ears, and always always roving on--these are the only half-formed "thoughts" that fill her foggy mind now.

Yet, discouraged and silent though she is, she is.
This in itself is a wonder.

The Sport of Stat-Watching

In reviewing the stats on this blog, I've noticed an interesting trend. The two posts that have overwhelmingly taken the lead as far as "most views" are:

Sparrows, in which I ramble shamelessly about my weird delight in a common brown bird (148 views last I checked)
Inspiration, where I write a random story-start in order to get the creative juices flowing... (60 views last count)

It's weird, I didn't even think these two were very good, but they're the most popular on this blog... Apparently a lot of other people like reading about sparrows...?? The internet is a truly bewildering place.

In writing, one of the schools of thought teaches that we are to "write for your audience". This idea is a part of why I am so interested in the statistics provided by blogspot--it gives me an insight about the readers I have... But another school of thought says that we should write for ourselves.

According to the stats, those two cases are not so different as I may have thought. My own brainstorming sessions, unedited and unrefined, are just as interesting to others as they are helpful for me.
Who knew?
I shall have to brainstorm here more often, to share my delight in creating.
In the spirit of inquisitiveness, do you have a favorite post on this blog, your own blog, or any other blog that you'd like to share? Please feel free to!

Breathe

Breathing.
In, and out. The rhythm of life: in and out.
Heart beating,
Pumping the life-blood,
In and out.

Regardless of what comes to us, it will pass away from us as well. The question is: how will we let it pass? Gracefully, with peace and an open hand? Or regretfully, clinging to the merest shred of it, dragging out the inevitable with pain and suffering?

Do I fight to keep it in my life, or do I run away from its presence?
In certain circumstances, neither option is healthy.
In others, either could be commendable.

Everything has its time and place.

Breathe.
In,
and Out.
A breathe held, then released,
Then breathed again.

As temporal beings we are subject to this cyclical law.
What will we find when Time ceases to be?
Will the cycle stop?
Will we stop breathing?
Will our hearts stop beating?
I find such an existence hard to imagine...
Is it so entirely other from what we know that we simply cannot understand right now?
Does that excuse us from trying to understand anyway?

Perhaps the cycle does not cease,
Perhaps we will simply no longer be slaves to the cycle.

"Time is not the boss of me!" ~The Doctor

Will that be true for us someday?

Post-It Inspiration

I have a ... What do you call a cork-board with no cork in it? It's a thingummy on my wall, I can hold paper on it with little thumb-tacks... I have one of those at my office.

Some of the little papers I have tacked up there are business cards, notes to myself on procedures, phone numbers, and the like. But the vast majority of the papers on my board are quotes that I like looking at for a lift during the day.

I tend to get easily discouraged, worn out, bitter, and generally depressed about life. So a lot of the quotations I collect are to combat those tendencies

Some are from friends...
"It's not what they call you that matters, it's what you choose to answer to."
~R.L.K.K.

Some from movies...
"I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then."
~Alice in Wonderland

Playwrights...
"My mistakes are my life."
~Samuel Beckett

Some are to inspire greatness...
"The only true measure of success is the ratio between what we might have been and what we have become."
~H.G. Wells

Or laughter...
"One of you is gonna fall and die, and I'm not cleaning it up!"
~Captain Malcolm Reynolds

And so much more. When I feel dry & dusty & uninspired, I look over my shoulder at these quotes, and they cause me to think of all who have gone before.
Will anyone look over their shoulder and think of me when they feel uninspired & uncreative, someday?
I want to become that kind of person.

**The title of this post was changed upon realizing that I am a very cliche person when it comes to titles, and had already used "Inspiration" before... whoops... Have I mentioned that I'm not good with titles?**

Faith

Sunshine.
What a beautiful memory,
Blue skies and
Sunshine.
Warm breezes,
Gentle rains
Caressing my upturned face.
Above it all rides the
Sunshine.

Sunshine.
In the winter
It's just a memory,
Relegated to days gone by.
Sunshine
Seems to be no more.
Skies are steely grey
And cold
And I cannot see the
Sunshine.

Sunshine,
It has all fled away,
Chased away
By the driven sleet
And snow.
Sunshine
Beyond my sight
And beyond the feel
Of my upturned face
Burned by frost, wishing for
Sunshine.

Sunshine.
Beyond the bricks,
Beyond these walls,
Behind the clouds,
I know it's somewhere
Out there.
Sunshine.
Through windows I don't have
I imagine I could see,
Clouds that could be pierced
By fiercely joyful
Sunshine.

Sunshine
Will come again.
Perhaps not today,
Perhaps not even tomorrow,
The clouds will be grey,
and the walls will hold fast,
But someday I will see
Sunshine.
I will wait,
Patient, or not,
Chilled to the bone,
But my heart will look forward to
Sunshine.

Blargh

This headcold has really done a number on my wordcount. :P It's hard to concentrate on writing when breathing alone takes so much effort!

Blargh.

That is all.

Whispers

Whisper
Just a whisper
Only a whisper
Through the silence
Cuts through the silence
Silence that has never been broken.

A Voice
That whispers
Only whispers
But such a whisper
That kills the absence of sound
With joy.

Darkness
Utter darkness
Complete darkness
That has never seen light
And does not know
That light even exists
Because it doesn't.

But that whisper!
What does it whisper
That smallest of whispers
The merest of whispering
That very first breaking
Of the greatest Silences
Ever known?

One word
Only one word
Merely one word
It whispers a single
Solitary
Lonely
Vibrant
Word.

LIGHT!

Light!
In the Darkness
And Silence
And Emptiness
The Voice has whispered
A whisper is all that It needs.

Light!
And there is no more darkness
And the silence is shattered
And the Void is filled
By Light
And Joy
And Life
Because of that Voice
And that one whispered word.

Darkness
Is not unopposed
Silence
Is broken
Emptiness
Is filled.

Sorrow
May last for the night,
But the Voice
Brings the Joy
And the Morning.

November 1

I have to write here, otherwise my productivity is nil.
It's disturbing sometimes, how directly my will to do stuff relates to the amount I've written. I've been known to accomplish more in 2 hours after writing than I did the entire week prior--scary stuff, really.

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo! Let the novelling begin! Guess what my wordcount is!

0

No, I didn't stay up until midnight last night to start. I may have started dragging around 9:30, and finally called it quits around 11. But I still have half a day in which to accomplish the 1,667 words allotted for today... plenty of time! :)

I'll let you know if I make it...

In the meantime, if you would like to join me on this venture, head on over to nanowrimo.org and sign up! It's always more fun to do stuff like this with a group of fellow crazies to support you, and they have cool prompts, procrastinator-enablers, and cheerleading going on. You should join us! :)

Now the question becomes: is it possible to write a novel & direct a show in 30 days?
I don't know, but I intend to find out.

Then I'll write a musical about it. ;)

Do you ever have one of those days...?

I feel like my brain is leaking out through my ears today.
My focus is shot, my concentration is done, my willpower is defeated, and my stick-to-itness is outta here.

What was I saying?

I think some of that dense fog that blanketed the area this morning got into my mind & stuck there. I know there is stuff I should be doing, but... for the life of me I cannot form the thought of what they are.

:P

And it's only Wednesday.
I wish my office had windows.

The Hunt

Just a warning, the writing took a bit of a dark turn today. :) Have fun?

~*~

It's there, just like always. I can feel it watching me.
Just out of the corner of my eye.
I turn my head to look at it full on, but--
Woish
It's gone.
But not far, just out of sight.
It's waiting.

It's always there,
Stalking,
Following,
Waiting.
I can feel its appetite, its hunger.
It wants to devour ... my very essence of who I am.
It won't ever stop.
It's so hungry.

I'm never sure what keeps it away.
If I knew, maybe I could always do it.
I'm never sure what drops my guard, and allows it to
Pounce.
If I did,
I would never let it happen.
But it does,
And it pounces,
It rips,
And tears,
And chews,
And laughs.
I still feel the scars from the last time.

The laughter is the worst.
The hopeless despair
That laughter causes
Is worse than the teeth that consume.
It chuckles even now,
Knowing, hearing my frightened heart pounding.

I don't know if escape can be had.
I don't know if a difference can be made.
Will it shy away if
I'm not alone in my fight?
Will it lose me if
I run forever?
Is there anything
That can kill this
Creature that thirsts for my life?

My weapon is heavy in my hand.
It sings a soothing lullaby,
But it's not sleep it beckons me toward.

Grit, determination, stubbornness, even pride,
All these keep me from falling
To its every attack.
Too gritty to chew,
Too determined to win and not fail,
Too stubborn to allow it to succeed,
Too proud to admit defeat.
If it can use my strengths against me,
I can use my flaws against it.

~*~

That was actually kind of fun. Well, it was for me. ;) Thanks for sticking around! :)

Snowflakes

It snowed today. Just flurries, nothing that stuck, but still.
It snowed. Today. :P

I do like snow, but I'm seriously perturbed that it was cold enough to snow today. Seriously, where did Fall go? It's not like this is Minnesota, or near the Great Lakes, where I would expect that kind of thing.

It was cold enough to snow today.

If the weather is going to be cold enough to facilitate snow, then I do think it should have the decency to look pretty too. In that fashion I am a huge fan of snow--it makes winter bearable, and gives something beautiful to look forward to in the midst of the chill.

I think the reason I don't like winter is because people insist that I maintain a certain level of constructivity (spellcheck says that's not a word, I say I just made a new one...) that runs counter to my body's natural tendencies. When I'm cold I want to hibernate--huddled under a blanket, buried in a chair/couch, drinking chocolate something-or-other, and reading. That's all I want out of life when it turns cold.

But the world says no. It tells me I must come out from the warmth and put on real clothes, swap out my slippers for boots, and my books for a coat.
Then I have to go outside?! Evils abound in this world. Not only must I leave my cocoon, I must also leave my dwelling-place and actually walk out into the frigid air and sometimes ice?!
AND be a contributing member of society!

I know, I whine too much. That's another reason I dislike the chill, it makes me whiny.

*Cue the tears & violins*

Ah first-world problems, aren't we lucky to have them?

Yeah, I feel duly ashamed of myself for my rant, but I'm posting it anyway. Humility is good for the soul, right?

I am glad I have someone to cuddle with this winter.
<3 p="">

That itch

I think I know what story to go with, and now that I do that itch has begun...
My fingers itch.
But my mind is shrinking away from the ideas, for fear of failing this story yet again.

Before November comes though, I have so many questions to answer!

Most of those questions will probably be answered by filling out character sheets, but there are some serious plot holes that need to be resolved too... And I keep wandering off into daydreams that don't really help with any of that--the scenes I see might not even be happening in this first story!

I see a ragged band of survivors, creeping through the undergrowth in a forest where the very trees might betray them.
I see onlookers cowering close to the ground as two dragons fight in the sky above them--roaring loud enough to shake the mountains, spewing fire at each other, tangling in each others claws and teeth. Drops of blood spatter onto the ground far below, sizzling where it falls.
I see a dying woman, smiling up at the man she loves--a man who only remembered her mere days before. He cries bitterly as the light of life fades from her eyes. Her last whisper to him: "I will wait for you."
Two children race through a forest, laughing and shouting from sheer joy. The girl has golden hair and dancing blue eyes; the boy has black hair and deep brown eyes.The note of a bell chimes out through the woods, and they turn in their path to run toward it.
A tree grows from a platform built in the center of a town built in love. Its trunk is out of reach from the bottom of this platform, but the branches sweep low to offer the fragrance of its flowers. Passerby lovingly reach up and pluck fruit off the branches as they walk by, murmuring thanks to the tree.
A group of sleepers in a cave, with one man sitting awake at the mouth while he keeps watch. The night is quiet, and peace seems to have furtively stolen in. The man smiles at the seed he holds in his hand, a seed that seems to emanate a soft glow and a quiet heartbeat.
The road seems deserted but for the grizzled one-eyed warrior. His single orb scans the skies, and a smile creases his cheeks when he sees the raven circling above. A sharp whistle pierces the air as he raises an arm, the raven caws in response as it descends.

Uffda...

What to Novel About?!

NaNoWriMo is coming, it's only 10 days & some odd hours away...

I should probably figure out what I will write about.

Not necessarily the whole plot of the story--where's the fun in knowing ahead of time what will happen?--but I need at least a spark of an idea, a glimmer, a character, something to get the process started.

And I have so many plot ideas.
No really, it's unreal how many books are in my head right now. And not necessarily in a good way. :S

~*~
There's the girl whose parents die in a fire that she manages to survive when a mere infant, raised by a priestess of Ad'ny. She wanders the worlds in search of her purpose, watching her friends find their gifts while she discovers mediocre talent in everything she attempts. Then she finds a purpose when a prophet tells her she must find ... something. A word is given, but no definition.

There's also the woman who was born to a world without pain, death, or sickness. She reveled in song and laughter, until her people began to rip themselves and their world apart from the inside out. Sorrowing over what they had become, she and others of her kind watched as their home was destroyed and they were cast adrift, cursed with endless life to wander the stars in search of the hurts of others that were compelled to mend.

The man whose father sacrificed him to a dark deity in order to gain control of a world. His spirit was rescued by a shrouded woman who took him as an apprentice, and she led him into battle against the very forces his father sacrificed him to--and against his own father.

The woman whose village fear the cold-blooded beasts of the mountain; the dragon whose tribe loathes the hateful apes of the valley; and the friendship they aspire to.

The broken romance of a bird-woman that leaves her and her fledgling shunned and heartsick.

The red-haired thief, rescued from her prison in a tall tower by a man with a phoenix.

Half eastern dragon, half woman, and all cunning--traveling through the western lands is dangerous with scales.

In a Steam-Punk world: An oni-hunter leaves Japan in pursuit of a spirit that is plaguing the dreams of children. Their dreams are of a far-flung star that is drawing nearer, and is populated by bloodthirsty monsters. But is this yokai an oni, or is it just trying to warn them of something darker that is coming?

Inspired by the table-top game "Brass&Steel": in pre-WWI, the Aztec Empire never fell, it conquered. The reach of the Elite Jaguar Forces has stalled, but only for a lack of knowledge. The Emperor sends out the Ocelot Warriors--a secret task force known to none outside the Aztec lands, but held in highest regard by those who know they exist. The Ocelots are prized for their cunning, adaptability, intelligence, and insight. They have been given the task of discovering all they can about the outside world, instigating a disturbance that will keep the eyes of others distracted from the Empire, and learning how best the Aztecs might further the cause of their Emperor.
~*~

And that's all without looking at my past notebooks... no shortage of ideas here.
Do you have a favorite from any of the above? Anything you would like to see written more about? If so, please let me know--I'd love to hear from you!

November is Coming!

There is an event coming next month that I have been hearing about for years, but have never participated in.

NaNoWriMo
aka: National Novel Writing Month

The idea is that during the month of November I would take one of the myriad of story ideas whirling around in this brain and put pen to paper--committing 50,000 words to paper (or computer, whatever) over the course of 30 days & 30 nights. These words don't have to be edited (thank goodness!!), and they don't have to be the full story, but all 50,000 have to be written over the course of the month of November.

And you thought not shaving was a challenge. :P

It sounds amazing, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once. There is a website to sign up at, to feel supported by others in the writing community, to cheer each other on, read excerpts of each others work, etc. You can find the event pretty easily with a web search if you don't already know about it. :)

This year, this year I think I shall attempt this feat of authorship.
one thing is for sure, it will encourage me to post on here more often! I will put updates & snippets of story, as well as stories about writing up here... if I remember...

SO yeah, will you be participating in NaNoWriMo?
Happy writing!

Song Lyrics

I heard some song lyrics in the car today--I have no idea what the song was (even the genre--I listen to the mixed station that plays everything from country to metal), or who the singer was. I couldn't even sing you the chorus, because I came in at the end of the song.

But what I heard, stuck. If you know who this is or what the song is, please tell me!

The lyrics I remember (it was a few hours ago, sorry!):

"You don't have to feel safe to feel unafraid."

There was also something about lions make you brave & giants give you faith (which is really cool too), but those words smacked me across the face & grabbed me in a hug that hasn't let go yet.

You don't have to feel safe
To feel unafraid.

Just think on that for a moment, let that one sink in.
Look at the difference:

Safe.
Unafraid.

The first is where we go to rest, to breathe, to let the world slip by while we recuperate from the battle & lick our wounds.

But the second--that's where we live.
It's where we sing, dance, laugh, and love--all from that deep place in the gut that life itself flows from.
It's where we wrestle with God, as Jacob did, and where we are blessed.
It's where we fight, and strive, and glory.

God did not call us to be safe.
But He did tell us not to fear.
To be bold.

Please don't misunderstand me--I think the Church should be one of the safest places in this world. It should be the safest place short of Heaven that any human soul finds. The Church should be a place of comfort, solace, joy, peace--a place where the wounded can come to have the love of Christ manifest in His people binding their wounds and salving their hearts.
I know that it's not.
That knowing drives me mad with sorrow, and it drives me to make myself into that safe haven for other people.

But I want to be a safe place. That doesn't mean I want safety for myself.
Love is not safe.
But it is good.
To love others is to be unafraid in stepping outside the safety that keeps us from hurt--to reach out to those that are hurting and expose myself to their pain.

So yeah, you don't have to be safe to be unafraid.
I like that song.

Musicals

I'm directing a musical.

It's a children's Christmas musical at the church that I attend--and the kids I work with are wonderful, and the story is amazing. And it's got me thinking about a lot of things, and remembering a lot of things, and wondering...

How did this happen?

No really, I'm not a musical person.

I didn't think so, at least.
But, while thinking back, I realized...
Maybe I am.
Why not?
Sure. :)

The first musical I distinctly remember being a part of was called something like "Candy Cane Lane"... I think. I was 7 or 8, and my family lived on a little military base in New Mexico. It was the kids' Christmas musical of the Protestant Chapel, and our director was a lady we all called Miz Teresa (with no H!).

That dear lady is what I think of whenever I hear the term "fierce".

Don't misunderstand me--I loved her to pieces, and I know all the other kids did too! And she loved us--fiercely. She did everything with so much vim & vigour that she just tickled all of us, she awed us with her passion and joy. I think that might have been part of her secret, she out-ran all of us, and what kid doesn't respect that?

I distinctly remember one story Miz Teresa told us that still fills me with respect and awe to this day. We were all of us feeling especially flighty and rowdy that day, and she felt that she needed to instill some good-old-fashioned fear of the Lord into us. So she got us all set down for a stern talking-to.

She told us the story of the Old Testament priests, and the temple, and how the Israelites worshiped at this temple. She told us about how the Temple was divided into three sections: the outer court, the Holy Place, and the Holy of Holies--or the Most Holy Place. She then broke this down for us.

The Outer Court, she told us, was the place that the Gentiles--non-Israelites--were allowed. That was as far as they could go, but they could worship from there. In our modern-day churches, this might be compared to our foyer, where we all have a good time and laugh and fellowship (she liked that word). The Outer Court was kind of like that for the Israelites--where they could buy and sell, and mingle and fellowship.

The Holy Place though, that was for worship. That was special--like our Sanctuary. (Here she gazed over her glasses at us sternly.) The Israelites only let those who were lawfully clean into the Holy Place.

And the Holiest of Holies? That was where the Ark of the Covenant was kept. (I don't know if I even knew what that was at the time, but her reverence when she spoke of it impressed me.) That was where God lived with His people, before Jesus came to the earth, and His presence was filled with power.
The Holiest of Holies was filled with so much power that the High Priest was the only person who went into it, and even then he only did once a year to pray for the nation. Even so, they tied a rope and a bell around his ankle, just in case he wasn't right with God & being in His presence killed him!

Then she compared the Holiest of Holies to the portion of the Sanctuary where the chaplain preached from.

In retrospect, I realize that it might be questioned whether that was the best story to share with a group of children, and I'm sure my memory has skewed the presentation in some way (it usually does), but boy howdy did she get her point across! I never acted without reverence around the pulpit again.

It is worth noting, that Miz Teresa managed to get the point across without making me afraid. I was never afraid that God would strike me dead if I acted out in church. Why would he? The only people He did that to were the hypocrites who were arrogant enough to intentionally enter His presence without recognizing His authority and power. The people who not just didn't love Him, but who rejected Him & were trying to lead others astray. I wasn't afraid because of what Miz Teresa told us, but I had a lot more respect for God and those places set aside for us to meet with Him. Even now, I feel a sense of awe and quiet whenever I enter a church's sanctuary, especially ones that resemble that church in New Mexico.

And no, my enthusiasm for the show was not dampened. I still volunteered for as much stage time as I could! I was originally cast as the chocolate drop (I was not excited about wearing brown) with no lines, but I managed to wriggle my way into being a bubble-blower, a dancer, and when one of my friends got a case of stage fright for her solo I stepped up and said I would sing with her--just so she wouldn't be scared, of course! ;) I wasn't scared, I stood up there with her and belted that duet out with pure delight at being center-stage.

I might have been weirdly attention-hungry, for such a painfully shy little kid.

It's important to remember

I haven't really written a lot lately.

There's a lot that I haven't done lately.

I haven't written.
I haven't ...

Well that got depressing real fast. I may like lists, but I think I'll stay away from that one for now.
Funny, how playing "I have never" is so much fun around friends. But by myself it's just kind of pathetic. Like a deflated balloon caught in a tree.

ANYway...

It's important to remember why I write, and I have forgotten for a while. But that post I mentioned jolted something back into place in my mind, and I think it's coming back.

The passion.
The fury.
The drive.
The joy...

Because that's why I write. All those trite little cliches that writers try not to use, they're kind of true.

Writing is my Anti-Drug... well, my Anti-Depressant would be more accurate, I guess, since I've never done illegal drugs...

I write because it's how I worship.
Writing is how I pray.
Writing is how I think thoughts that make sense,
And how I keep the darkness at bay.
Writing brings order to a chaotic spirit,
And it brings reason to the illogical nonsense that tries to pull me under.

Writing is how I show love.
It's how I unveil my heart.
Writing makes me vulnerable, and in my vulnerability I see how strong I am.
Writing is how I commune with the great thinkers of this time, times past, and times to come.

Writing keeps me sane,
Well, it at least leads me dancing to the kind of crazy that creates instead of destroying.

Writing is like breathing.
Those times when it is most difficult to accomplish are when it is the most important.
Like my heartbeat,
It keeps things flowing so smoothly that I don't even notice it until it becomes irregular.

How I've missed this!
This joining together of words,
This flow of one thought to the next--
The Symbols and the Power.

With this writing I do...
What?
Anything.
Everything?

What glorious potential!
I am halved when I miss out on this part of my very self.
Not writing is worse than neglecting a hobby or a gift,
It is self-mutilation.
Strong words, I know.
But maybe that's why I can't seem to leave my poor thumb alone.
Maybe that's why my prayers have been so difficult to speak.

Not writing, it's depriving myself of the very tool I need.
It's like trying to paint a portrait with my forehead, instead of the set of artist's brushes I could use.
It's a self-lobotomy, depriving myself of this medium, this vehicle for thought.

All those times in my past that I've felt alone in the dark--
They were times I wasn't writing.
Is it a symptom, or a cause?
Does it matter? Of course, but perhaps not as much as I think.
If gritting my teeth and smiling can make me feel happy,
Perhaps pushing through the blank page and writing can make me feel creative.
What are feelings for, after all.

I'm feeling more productive already.
Writing is more than how I think,
It's how I process my feelings.
Without writing, I allow myself to become a slave to my emotions.
Writing is how I and my emotions become reconciled, and we work together to create joy.

Isn't that what writing should be?
Creation.
Delight.
Joy.

Read titles too...

As promised from my last post...

If you want to write, you must first read.

But don't be picky. Read everything.
And I mean, everything.

Read the excellent literature your English teacher told you to.
Read the "fluff" your teacher sniffed at.

Read the poetry, of every kind and variety you can lay your hands on.
Read blank verse, and try to understand all of it. If you can't understand it, feel it.

Read children's books, and take time to look at the pictures.

Read coffee-table books.

Read the graffiti in the bathroom stalls and in the underpass on your way to work. And wonder what it meant to the person who put it there.

Read post-it notes, and grocery lists, and business cards, and imagine the people behind them.

Read warning labels, and ingredient labels, and instruction labels, and those labels on the inside of clothes that dig into your side and make you wonder if this will fit after you dry it.

Read the bottom of your shoe.

Read bill-boards, and advertisements, and instruction manuals.

Read catalogs, bills, envelopes, and magazines. What will become of them, when they are discarded? What will they become?

Read calendars, planners, and itineraries, but don't let them rule you.

Read magazines, ads included.

Read autobiographies, and biographies--take to heart the difference between how people saw themselves and how other people saw them. Then decide how that knowledge should shape you.

Read the Bible, preferably in several translations. And the Qur'an, the Apocrypha, Kitab-i-Aqdas, Tipaka, The Book of Mormon, and every other text used throughout humanity's history to guide their actions and thoughts. Read them with open eyes, heart, and mind, knowing that an essential part of the Human Condition is the pursuit of Truth.

Read foreign languages, even if you're not sure of what they mean.

Read newspapers--online, in print, and satirical.

Read blogs you agree with--and blogs you disagree with.

Read fiction--sci-fi, fantasy, historical, and every other kind as well.

Read textbooks.

Read scripts, playbills, Shakespeare, and acting manuals.

Read the dictionary.

Read the encyclopedia.

Stuff as much information into your mind as you think you can possibly hold, about everything around you. Become passionate about knowledge--hunger after it, be voracious! The written word holds so much power--and it's all around us.

If you want to write, the best way to learn how do to that well is to read.

Are you ready?

I love reading.

No, wrong word. I don't love reading. I read. I read like I breathe, like I eat. Reading satisfies an innate hunger--it is an automatic function that almost cannot be helped. My eyes see words and my mind automatically processes them and attempts to discern their meaning.

One of the things I read today was this. And it was beautiful, and inspiring, and reminded me of several such things I've read before, and made me want to do similar posts.

I just wanted to forewarn you about what may be coming... It won't all be about writing... but, well...

Let's just say, I accidentally asked for a mocha with 3 shots of espresso this morning--I had no idea they usually put 2 in them already!! I just walked up to the counter feeling like the walking dead I stayed up too late last night to watch (see what I did there? it's a show...), and now I feel a little more jittery than anticipated...

Hence the stream-of-I-forgot-how-to-spell-that-word... what was I talking about?

Hey, new blogpost ideas! Yay!!!

;)

Priorities

I've never made a bucket list. I wonder, why is that?
I think I've never had the time before. Also, the deadline of "before I kick the bucket" seems so... ambiguous. What if I get flattened by a falling safe tomorrow? Whoops, guess I should've gotten on that list sooner... Conversely, what if I do everything on my list before I turn 30, but live till I'm 96 (long-lived females runs in the family, it could happen)--Will I forever be making & completing lists like that?
Not that that would be a bad thing...
 But I think it's high time I start a bucket list.

Recently a pair of my friends, the Ks, came to visit. I haven't seen them in 3 years, and they had never met Husband, so we all had a delightful time catching up. In our wanderings around the place we live, we stumbled upon this wall:

 

 

The idea was to write what you want to do before you die. What would your answer be?

I wanted to come up with something profound, deep, clever, and funny all at the same time. I think my contribution was a lame sort of cop-out like "Speak the Truth". (Because I've been lying this whole time & truth is a novelty for me...??? Yeah, uh... )

But the truth is, there's a lot I want to do.

 

So here, thanks to my passion for Lists that are Easy to Check Things Off Of, is a portion of my newly-inspired Bucket List (do be sub-divided later). I reserve the right to add any number of things later, but this is here for now. I will try to remember to add updates as to how I'm doing later. (These are in no particular order, please keep in mind.)

 

1. Write a Doctor Who/Batman fanfic about how the Weeping Angels

 

take Batman, and he dies in the past.

Yes, it will be inspired by what I found at an actual graveyard. No, I'm not telling you where the above pictures were taken. :P

2. Own a car like this one:

3. Drink coffee at 100 different coffee-shops around the world--starting at this one:

It looks like I could love it.

4. Find out the story behind this graffiti:

5. Make some epic, story-filled graffiti that no one wants to take down because it's bona-fide art--like the one above. :)

6. Take more pictures. A lot more.
7. Find a theatre family before I've lived here for a year.
8. Forgive her--legitimately, so I don't wince every time I see her picture/name.
9. Read the second book in that Ken Follet series (I like historical fiction, who knew?!)
10. Finish a notebook in the next year.
11. Write a full-length play--and get it performed.
12. Start a theatre company.
13. Audition for Steppenwolf.
14. Get an MFA.
15. And a Ph.D. (can you even get one of those in theatre? ... I think I will. If no one has yet, then it's high time someone does!)
16. Visit all of the continents... except maybe that really all-over cold one...We can not go there, I'm okay with that.
17. Beat all the Assassin's Creed games...
18. Adopt a shelter dog.
19. Be happily married--for the rest of forever.
20. Get some chocolate in this office!!!
21. Love my job, passionately.
22. Love my church, fervently.
23. Write & publish a book of poetry (that's going to take the rest of my life...).
24. Become a great friend.
25. Become the kind of person that writes thank-you cards out of pure gratitude, and not out of guilt or obligation or societal pressures (I'll do it because I want to, not because you told me to--it does have a place after all!!). Yes there's a story from my childhood behind this one, but I'll have to tell you some other time--alas!

I think that's a good place to end for now. Was this a cheap trick to unload some pictures onto my blog? Maybe. But that's for me to know. ;)

Watch out for falling water--that stuff can wear through rocks!!

 

Identity Crisis

Who am I?

I find it interesting the number of times this question is a key plot point in many of my favorite stories. Who am I? Who are you? The significance of this query is huge and profound.

I have been watching the new Doctor Who series with Husband for a while now, and in the last one we saw the Doctor found out who River Song is. At least, he found out a part of who she is. He discovered her parentage--and this discovery was of particular importance to everyone involved. In an act of foreshadowing earlier in the episode River Song told Rory that "tonight [the Doctor] will find out who I am."

But... really? All he discovers is who her parents are. He already knew who she would marry eventually...sort of... and this discovery shed no light on why she was imprisoned (that discovery doesn't happen until later). Did he really discover who River Song was? Is her parentage really that important? Some people go through their whole lives not knowing whose womb they vacated--but this does not necessarily define their identity.

So what does?

In Alice in Wonderland this question of identity is posed by a caterpillar blowing smoke rings... and it's answer seems to be of the utmost importance, judging by his insistence. He asks "Who are YOU?" a few times, and is very unsatisfied with Alice's answers. Perhaps because she does not know herself. She states that "... I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then." The caterpillar demands an explanation, and Alice tells him that she has changed size several times since that morning.

Again... really? She was confused about her identity because her height was in flux? Apparently. Perhaps that is why the caterpillar was so short with her (every pun in the world intended...). If Alice's identity was based on such a changeable factor, perhaps a change of worldview was in order after all...

In the movie, V for Vendetta a snippet of dialogue goes as follows:

 

Evey Hammond: Who...who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what. And what I am, is a man in a mask.

Evey Hammond: I can see that.

V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking on the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

 

A paradox because, naturally, the masked man is attempting to conceal who he is. What is it that the mask covers up though? Is that all we are--or is it that the man under the mask wishes to feel freer to show who he is, unrestrained by the tail told by his face?

 

What determines a person's identity?

What determines my identity?

Who am I?

 

We humans have been asking this question from the very beginning. Plagued by doubt, fear, suspicion, and lies we are continually asking ourselves and others: who am I?

 

In The Neverending Story, Bastian loses all of his memories of the world he was born in. These memories are the price he pays for the wishes he is granted in Fantastica. For every wish fulfilled, a memory lost--until he is left with no memories of his own with which to get back home. He couldn't even remember his name. With no memories, the question became again: who am I?

 

I am no longer the same person I was in high school (thank goodness!), college, or even the same as I was in Minneapolis. While my parentage is still the same, my height has changed, my masks have changed, my memories have changed, even my name has changed.

 

But that's not the question. So I am not the person I was--that's known. Who am I now?

 

What defines me?

 

In looking at myself with that ever-critical eye, I am not who I want to be.

I am not the friend I want to be.

I do not follow Christ as passionately as I would like to.

I am not the daughter I would be.
I am not the sister/aunt/wife/granddaughter/niece (just once I would like to spell that word correctly on the first try) I would like to be.

I do not produce as much art as I would like to--of any kind.

 

I am discontent. And that's not good. Of late, I have taken on the extremely bad habit of measuring myself by what is lacking, instead of seeing what is there & where I could go.

 

"Limitations are the catalyst for creativity" said one of my dearest mentors. I have not been living this like I used to.

 

"What I do today is important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it" said one of my best friends.

 

"For most people, it's not what they are that holds them back. It's what they think they are not." ~John Maxwell

 

Oh God, my God, Author of the Multi-Verse, Singer of songs and Painter of the skies--I do not love you as I should and I am ashamed. Teach me again what it means to Love--never stop teaching me! My heart is shriveled up and dying for want of You and Your Love. Show me again those lessons I have forgotten. Sear them into the new heart you have given me and let me never forget again. I am a wretched and withered husk. Fill me and make me clean. Help me to Love You and Your people, even as You have loved me.

 

My identity is in You. Apart from You, I am not.

 

Now the new question: who are You?

Sparrows

I think Sparrows are wonderful.

In fact, they're my favorite bird, possibly my favorite animal. I always feel obligated to defend this delight though. Other folks I talk to have other choices for their favorites: the Eagle (majestic and all that blah blah blah...), the Falcon (quick and ferocious), the Heron (graceful), the Hummingbird (tiny and beautiful), I've even heard the Flamingo (they are pretty funny-looking...).

But the sparrow? Usually they just warrant a passing glance.

So with this post I come to the defense of this, my favorite of avian creatures, and urge you:

Consider the Sparrow.

Yes, in color and size they are rather unremarkable. They rather resemble dirt and dust in their coloring, and they could easily fit nestled into the palm of my hand. Yet, this very coloring is what allows them to so easily mask their numbers. Have you ever had the experience of walking by a seemingly empty hedge, only to have dozens of startled sparrows flee your presence and inflict a heart attack on you at the same time? It's a thrilling experience...

They are the ninjas of feathered folk.

But how can that be? How can such a cheerful bird earn the title "ninja"? It's true, they are exceedingly friendly. Almost any outdoor eatery can give you a view of sparrows flocking to the edge of the dining area, hopping around picking up scraps, chattering and gossiping to each other and the patrons, and generally giving mirth to their admirers. These social birds will chirp within inches of people they deem nonthreatening, and gladly accept your offerings. I've even had sparrows try to cheerfully coax more tidbits out of me, cocking their head first to one side, then the other, hopping about and fluffing their wings in a most endearing fashion. Usually I try to oblige after laughing at their antics.

But never doubt it, these birds are fierce.

Soft, cuddly, adorable, and entertaining absolutely--and as fierce as all get out. These normally quiet and gossipy birds can turn deadly vicious at a moments notice--just threaten their nestlings to find out the hard way.

Have you ever seen a crow, falcon, owl, or even eagle soaring majestically in the sky whilst seeking its prey? Now picture the sparrow in its short, erratic flight.

I've seen all those majestic birds routed by sparrows. A pack of three or more is usually what it takes, but once that small band unites to drive the taloned terror away from their young, the larger bird has nothing left but to flee--if it can. And who hasn't experienced the sudden intimidation of a row of sparrows all turning the weighty gaze of their beady little eyes full upon you? If three or four can rout an eagle, what could an entire flock do to a mere groundwalking human? If you've had them divebomb you, you know that terror all too well.

Doughty and loyal warriors, these sparrows.

For some reason, though, they are widely seen as insignificant common. Nothing special, nothing remarkable--just a sparrow. Why?

Where the falcon, eagle, hawk, and many other birds have dwindled in number the sparrows actually thrive. The red-tailed hawk is a rarity, but sparrows are so numerous that a sighting isn't even worth mentioning.

Sparrows have what it takes.

They're wickedly fierce, ferocious and cunning in battle, but also cheerful, chattery, friendly, and adorable--proving yet again that "charisma is not just a dump stat." ;)

So yes, Sparrows. Lovely to chat with, laugh at, delight in, and observe at play and in battle. I hope you enjoy!

Dandelions

Hi all! Sorry, it's taking me a lot longer to write the post I've been working on then I thought it would... However, I did want to post something so you don't think I'm falling back into bad habits--like completely ignoring this blog.... ;)

A couple of days ago I was walking out to my car from work and decided to take the short route. There is a sidewalk that would get me there, but it wanders in a roundabout fashion--something I usually have no problem with, but this day was made for something else.

The sun was shining, birds were singing, it hadn't rained in a while (which meant the ground was solid as opposed to a morass of mud)--so I decided to cut through the mediumish swathe of grass that stood between my vehicle and myself. This minuscule meadow was populated not by sidewalks, but with a person-tall tree or two, and a huge horde of... dandelions!!

Naturally, I kicked them.

Keep in mind, these were the... well, I don't know the word for it, but these were almost entirely dandelion flowers gone to seed. They were at the fun stage, where they invite random passerby to partake in their life by tossing their seeds to the four corners of the earth. I thought oblige.

It started out small. A puffy white thing was by my foot, so I kicked at it as I walked by. A step or two more and another was next to my other foot--I kicked again. Before I knew it, I was in their midst, kicking bunches of the flowers to pieces with every step! It was bliss! And joy! And delighted my five-year-old soul to no end!

Then I looked up.

Remember those trees I mentioned earlier in my description of this happy place?

Yeah, I didn't either.

Thankfully, I happened to look up prior to impact. The trunk of the tree was mere inches from the tip of my nose--I leapt back & sideways, more than a little startled! Then I hastily glanced around, just to make sure no one was nearby.

Of course, someone was.

But, no worries! Being the college student I assume he was, the young man passing me in the opposite direction was completely absorbed by gazing at his phone, his ears preoccupied by his head-phones.

Thank goodness.

Thinking that I had escaped unobserved, I mentally patted myself on the back and resolved to keep my eyes up and have done with dandelion kicking. Except for that one. And maybe--NO, we must focus!! ... you get the idea.

Upon entering the parking lot my mind wandered off to make dinner plans and wonder what the weather would do tomorrow, all but forgetting the dandelions behind me. As I passed a--what I assumed to be vacant--bus on my right, I was startled by the gruff voice of an older gentlemen.

"Didn't leave many of them dandelions alive, did ya?"

He was laughing. He'd been in the bus. The whole time. With a perfect view of the mini-meadow I had been frolicking in.

There was no way of denying what I had done. So I owned it.

"Nope, no dandelions--but man, those trees really put up a fight!"

So this is what happens when Cabin Fever has a party with Writer's Block...

Have you been outside lately?
It smells of adventure...

I haven't felt terribly adventurous lately. I'm very hum-drum, it seems--all wrapped up in cleaning, laundry, desk job, paper-pushing (usually in its more modern form of email-pushing), car-needs-oil changed, bed-buying, unpacking, loafing around....... I'm all grown-uppish lately, and ... it's weird.

Of course, the fact that it's 3:30 in the afternoon on a Tuesday with the weekend too far away to be effective, that might have something to do with the current mood.

The office is getting claustrophobic--let me out!

I know the sun is shining and it's warm... somewhere. All I have to do--is find it.

I want to run and skip and play and shout and sing and breathe the fresh air! I want to have an adventure but I'm so out of practice that... do I know how to begin anymore?

When did adventure become relegated to video games?

Don't mind me, I'm just spilling the thoughts whirling around in my head onto the screen--the thoughts and half-thoughts that go tumbling around in there, chasing after each other in a madcap fashion, bent on--

Getting me into Trouble.

Because, really, who does that anymore? Who would want to reveal the innermost workings of their thoughts, and heart, and soul? It isn't Right, it isn't Safe, it isn't DECENT--put your clothes back on! No one wants to see that!

But we do.

Why do you think "Reality" TV shows make so many talentless people famous? We think we're getting a glimpse of them that no one usually would ever get to see--and we lap it up. Who doesn't want to see the innermost machinations of other people?

But it does get Uncomfortable, doesn't it?

Because sometimes we see things we don't really want to. Sometimes we look into another person's bared heart and see something there that mirrors our own--something we've been trying to forget about ourselves.

Sometimes we see something in another's heart that reminds us that they are a real person, like us, and yet so vastly & terribly different from us.

Or, instead, we might catch a glimpse of Pain and wonder, "Did I cause that? Am I supposed to Fix that?" And we feel woefully inadequate because we don't even know what to do with our own pain--let alone someone else's!

So we call such Nakedness of the Soul indecent, unsafe, and unwelcome.

But I long for it.

I've been told such a trait is common among Introverts. That we find small talk depressing because we yearn for an actual connection with people we take the time to talk to. I don't know if it's an Introvert thing, or simply a Human thing, but I know I do.

It is a rare occurrence indeed, to actually connect with people.To look them in the eye and see someone willing to be a Real Person with you, someone who will rip down the walls we build to protect ourselves and others from....... from... well, I'm not entirely certain anymore what we think we're protected/ing from. Pain, of some sort, I'm sure.

But Living means Pain, doesn't it? To be truly, joyously, abundantly living--that means we will feel pain.

I was in a show a few years ago, and something my character said has stuck with me ever since.

"I'd rather feel pain than feel nothing."

I know this could be seen as an excuse for cutting, but no worries--I dislike physical discomfort too much for that! But I would far rather suffer the pain of rejection and heartache and regret than allow indecision and fear to immobilize me--at least, I would like to think so.

I said earlier that I was feeling a bit lacking in adventure. That's the cabin fever talking, most likely--but I know that I can get caught up in the hum-drum of everyday life. I forget, sometimes, the Truths I've learned over the years.

Nothing about Life is "hum-drum".

It's Wonderful!! No, really, bear with me here. Indulge my gross indecency a bit longer, because this is something big--I can feel it! (gutter minds, yes I went there too, shut up!)

The pastor at the church I attend preached this past Sunday on "The Walking Dead"--not the tv show--think Lazarus.

But he didn't preach on the usual. He opened by saying he wanted to talk about the relationship between Death and Life.

For us to truly Live, we must first Die.

I've heard this story so many times I could rattle it off to you without a hesitation (did I mention I'm a church-kid?), but this take on it really made me think. Not that I haven't heard the premise before...but....... I hadn't heard it quite this way.

Pastor Mike asked: What does it mean, to live like a Dead Man (or Woman)?

And by Dead, he meant dying to self, dying to all those Fallen tendencies we have like selfishness, pride, greed, lying, prejudice, the like. We can only Live with Christ when we Die to our Selves.

So to Live Abundantly we must Live like the dead.

Why would the dead get angry over a parking ticket? It doesn't matter to a dead person.
I'm a dead woman, who cares about that argument? Let's just enjoy the time we have together.
So I didn't get the dessert I wanted--I got fed, and that's more than most dead people can say!

Interesting way to look at it, isn't it.

I want to try it, and I think it might have something to do with the idea discussed last post.

Because what comes more naturally to a Dead person than praising the One who offers Life?

"All thy works shall praise thee, O LORD; and thy saints shall bless thee.
They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power;
To make known to the sons of men his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom.
Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout all generations.
The LORD upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down.
The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thout givest them their meat in due season.
Thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
The LORD is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works."
Psalm 145: 10-17 kjv

Counting

I find lately I've developed a thing for lists...

I've also been in a bit of a funk. Spiritually speaking, I'm feeling dry. There's a variety of reasons, but one is that I find myself lacking the motivation to fix anything. I want to be motivated, but I'm not. The Meister would say I have a secondary motivation, but not a primary one...

Being a church-kid, I grew up hearing that a quick fix for this is to "count your blessings". Praise God for all He's done for me! And He has done a lot, but I'm loathe to use that method and today in my reading I think I figured out why.

In the words of the oh-so-venerable Rick Warren (yes, there's some sarcasm there, I'm not his biggest fan but I don't hate him either--God & I worked through that...):

It's not about me.

For instance, I know I'm blessed, I know I'm loved, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am treasured. That's not the issue. My problem is: I also know I don't deserve any of that. I am so unworthy of all my blessings! In the words of Isaiah:

"Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts." (Is. 6:5 kjv)

It's good to know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

I know I am blessed, and I also know that I don't deserve any of it--the numbering of my blessings some days only serves to remind me of how unworthy I am. Ironic, isn't it?

So, in the face of such a knowledge, where does on find comfort?

To begin with: Self-confidence is extremely over-rated.

How, knowing that I am a sinner incapable of saving myself (again, something I've heard since my preschool years, thanks to growing up in the church), can I feel confident in myself? All my righteousness is as filthy rags, and the winds of my iniquity blows them away (combination of Isaiah and Paul there, this isn't just an Old Testament thing)--none of the good things I do are good enough. Where is the comfort in knowing I am blessed by gifts if I am tormented by my own inner lack of self-worth?

Ah, there it is. Self-worth. By myself I am nothing. But if I empty myself and allow Him to fill me instead, if I become His willing vessel--therein I find worth, because He is precious and priceless. And with Him in me, I am given worth.

Self-confidence is pointless, my Confidence comes from Above.

And so I count, not ways I've been blessed, but reasons why the God I find confidence in is worthy of worship.

The following list I write with a reason. I've been allowing myself to get distracted for a while. Who wouldn't? Flip back a few posts to what's been going on this year, you'll understand why. But I'm saddened to say that my passion for God, His glory, and His Kingdom has been dimming. I've succumbed to the newly-wed idea of getting entirely wrapped up in my new partner (not his fault at all!), going through the paces of the new job, nesting & trying to unpack, figuring out how old & new dreams factor into the lifestyle changes, and attempting to balance and juggle several relationships.

But God? We've not spoken much lately. And that saddens me.

I want to want Him more. I miss being passionately in love with Him

Perhaps... I've heard before from a few favourite authors that God likes to be pursued and wooed, just as we do. We've been together a long time (relatively speaking), Him and I. Perhaps to add some vigour to our dynamic, I should chase after Him, the Lover of my Soul.

In the last 5 Psalms is a beautiful theme: praise. A lot of the other Psalms praise Him too, but these last five are especially poignant because they are filled with purely praise for God's person. Not just because of what He's done, or will do, or in spite of the suffering going on right now, not crying out for help or anything like that. The Psalmist simply takes the time to speak wonderfully of & to God.

I'd like to go through these Psalms in the next few days, perhaps on here, perhaps by myself, who knows...

"I will extol thee, my God, O king; and I will bless thy name for ever and ever.
Every day will I bless thee; and I will praise thy name for ever and ever.
Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; and his greatness is unsearchable.
One generation shall praise thy works to another, and shall declare thy mighty acts.
I will speak of the glorious honour of thy majesty, and of thy wondrous works.
And men shall speak of thy terrible acts: and I will declare thy greatness.
They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness.
The LORD is gracious, and full of compassion; slow to anger, and of great mercy.
The LORD is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works.
All thy works shall praise thee, O LORD; and thy saints shall bless thee."
Psalm 145:1-10 kjv

To just sit and acknowledge Who God is. There is confidence and peace. The Psalmist had a lot to say, but as my own Lover, shouldn't I have something to say about Him too?  Hence, I will count the ways my God is worthy of praise.

1. God is confusing. Yes, that's the first thing I came up with--but let's be honest, a lot of His followers feel this way & no one wants to say it out loud. I have heard so many times that God doesn't always make sense. What's your point? Neither does your girl/boyfriend, but that doesn't seem to stop your wanting to know more. I'm glad that my God is big enough and complex enough that I don't already understand Him all the time--how lame would that be? Because He is at times bewildering, I have the confidence that He will continue to be interesting for the rest of the Eternity I plan to spend getting to know Him better. If I--a finite human--knew Him completely, He would not be so worthy of praise.

2. He is patient. No matter how many times I think I've learned the lesson, He is still there to teach me again when I inevitably forget. I have forgotten, disobeyed, drifted away, lost patience, lost hope, and wailed in despair countless times--but He is always there, waiting to catch my tears and remind me that He is present and loving. He waits for me, and never grows weary of trying to teach me more about life at its fullest... more about Him. His never-ceasing patience is truly praiseworthy.

More will come later, I'm sure. In the meantime, I challenge you: why does knowing God give you confidence? Or, conversely, if you do not hold to the same beliefs that I do: what gives you confidence?

Later!

Still not Charming

I simply cannot walk away from a post and then finish it the next day. I've tried that three times now, and each time I come back and think "why? why did I write that & think it was something I wanted to post?!"

I'll wait till Time, that lovely lady, has made my outlook on those writings a little kinder, and maybe I'll post them in abstract...

In the meantime, I swear, I will finish this post today!!! So there!

Even if I don't know what to write about yet... *le sigh*

Screw it. I'm going to look for auditions. Later.

Listiness

First off though...

#4 Things I Love About My Husband: The way he is around kids. Mind you, I'm not exactly a huge fan of children. In small quantities they're okay, but you get more than 3-5 of them around, and I start looking for an escape route. They just get me all nervous and edgy, y'know? You think "mob mentality" is bad, the kids' version is terrifying! I mean, have you READ "Lord of the Flies"?! But Husband, he's amazing. As soon as we walk into church every person under 16 is swarming him, getting hugs, high-fives, fist-bumps, and love in whatever form they understand it best in. Because that's what he does--he meets each child at their level and shows them how much he loves them in a way they understand immediately. And it's truly breathtaking to watch him as he does this.

Now, what was it I said I was going to do last time I was here? Ah yes, a List. I don't usually do lists on here... as a rule, I'm not usually capable of sticking with a list long enough to finish writing it... and to-do lists are the bane of my productivity! I expend so much constructiveness in creating the list that I have none left to accomplish the tasks that are ON the list! But, it's a brand new day ("and the sun is high, all the birds are singin'--" anyone? anyone? If you know what I'm singing you are officially awesome!), so here it is:

102 Wonderful, Crazy, Confusing Things From the Last Year (not necessarily in order of any kind)

1. Signed a lease for the first time--and could afford to do it on my own with no co-sign! Woot!
2. Moved into my first apartment. No roommate, just moi.
3. Had a long-distance romance with an amazing man...
4. Was proposed to by that amazing man...
5. And married him. :)
6. Planned a wedding.
7. Quit my job.
8. My car got towed...
9. Ransomed my car back!
10. Moved in with my Awesome Stister & her family.
11. Had to buy out my lease.
12. Gained a whole new appreciation for stars.
13. Saw a guy sitting in a recliner in an empty lot in the middle of the city... he was reading a book.
14. Got a Minnesota drivers' licence (still can't spell "licence" without spellcheck though...)
15. Acted in a spectacular production of "The Hobbit".
16. Learned how to flamenco.
17. Was part of a dragon (the intestines, to be exact).
18. Had a director call me and ask me to audition for his show.
19. Had to turn down a requested audition... because I was already in a show! ;)
20. Waged war against bed-bugs--and won!
21. Pet a lonely cat... won't do that again in a hurry, see 20.
22. Lived with a very cheeky mouse, in spite of 21.
23. Was serenaded by a Mormon and his wife.
24. Survived a Minnesota summer without an air conditioner.
25. Ditched my microwave and learned to cook without one.
26. Learned to cook. Ish. ;)
27. Got a new job.
28. Finally learned how to use Adobe.
29. Lost the Game. A lot. (You just did too! ;D )
30. Turned a quarter of a century old.
31. Found out that it's not as terrible as I was afraid it would be.
32. Made friends with a neurotic German shepherd.
33. Kept the bamboo alive!
34. Unpacked almost all the way... once.
35. Got rid of all my paints.
36. Saw all my paints replaced, by Wonderful Husband.
37. Said goodbye to Minneapolis.
38. Said goodbye to Minnesota winters. ;)
39. Bought my first pair of character shoes--for far cheaper than I thought!
40. Tried on wedding dresses.
41. Lost something forever, and glad to see it go!
42. Stayed at a Bed&Breakfast.
43. Saw Superman.
44. Tried to kill Beorn... several times, without success.
45. Survived the major battle!
46. Had several epiphanies.
47. Ran around barefoot.
48. Ran on all fours.
49. Got in a fight with an African Wild Dog... and won.
50. Learned how to Suzuki.
51. Got angry at a clown and wrecked his world... several times, without remorse.
52. Bought a bridesmaid's dress.... and it's purple.
53. Moved in with a guy... who's my husband... ;D
54. Cried, several times for several reasons... and sometimes for no reason at all.
55. Laughed, a lot, several times for several reasons... and often for the best reasons in the world.
56. Reconnected with wonderful friends that I had not seen in far too long.
57. Saw "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" for the first time.
58. Saw my Freshmen again... they're graduating this year!?
59. Re-prioritized.
60. Learned how to grow Sweet Potatoes in Minnesota (from a guy with one eye and four teeth).
61. Became a regular customer at a coffee-shop.
62. Performed in my first Fringe Festival.
63. Became a regular customer at 2 different Jimmy Johns.
64. Moved to a place Jimmy Johns won't deliver.
65. Sat outside and soaked up the sunshine.
66. Was hit on by several creepers... and gleefully used the out of "I have a Boyfriend/Fiancee/Husband." ;D
67. Read several good books.
68. Saw several good shows.
69. Met a friend's baby for the first time.
70. Danced at my wedding.
71. Went car-shopping with a friend.
72. Paid my own electric bill.
73. Kept my electric bill under $25 each month! See 24 & 25
74. Voted in a Presidential Election.
75. Changed my Facebook relationship status... among other things.
76. Acquired a wonderful & loving set of in-laws.
77. Bought new jeans!
78. Found my Home.
79. Started Thanksgiving with Strangers, ended it among Family.
80. Won Nana's approval.
81. Visited Louisiana for the first time.
82. Played over 75 hours of Skyrim... I am the DragonBorn!!
83. Played songs from Star Trek, Skyrim, and LOTR in my wedding... ;)
84. Flew an RC helicopter... and liked it.
85. Got a "real dayjob".
86. Learned what "the Mondays" are... see 85.
87. Rediscovered some stories I thought were lost.
88. Got 2 library cards in 2 different states.
89. Had the library card from the state I'm living in de-activated.
90. Sent out a lot of mail (and will be sending out more!)
91. Learned how loved I truly am, by so many truly lovely people.
92. Drove a U-Haul truck for the first time... with a car trailer behind it.
93. Only made Mum scream once... see 92 ;)
94. Danced in the middle of my living room.
95. Was scared out of bed by a pigeon.
96. Dropped my phone in the toilet... twice.
97. Had to replace my phone once... see 96
98. Learned the hard way not to name cellular devices after the Celtic goddess of fire.
99. Rekindled the passion for writing.
100. Got some new jewelry... see 4 and 5.
101. Changed direction, several times.
102. Dreamt brand new dreams.

No regrets. Not "no bad decisions", just "no regrets". I hope to look back on this span of time and be able to say that. It's not something that includes the flipping of a switch though. The longer I look, the more I think that "no regrets" is more of a process than anything else.

Why bother regretting what I cannot change? What might actually be the catalyst that causes something beautiful and new. If I regret that choice, I might forget to learn from it, and miss out on the opportunities being presented in the here and now.

It's been quite the year.

My Sandal Broke :(

I'm so glad the warm weather is here so I don't have to wear shoes so much anymore!! I tripped over my feet on my lunch break today and yanked the strap on my (dress) sandal right out of the shoe itself. Mer. I now have no dress sandals... again... until I can get the superglue after these. :) On the upside, I spent my lunch break outside barefoot. :D

#3 Things I Love About My Husband: He tolerates my glitter. I'm not usually an overly-feminine girl, a "girly-girl" if you will--but I do delight in things that shine &/or glitter. I've been told that shopping with me is like shopping with a magpie, a butterfly, and a cat (I've also been compared to all of the above, but on crack). Husband, poor man, thinks of glitter as "the herpes of craft supplies"... it is very much to his chagrin that he finds himself living with someone who--for all intents and purposes--secretes glitter through her pores. But he has graciously risen to the occasion, embracing the shiny and accepting his fate. He has even gone so far as to give me gifts of glitter, knowing that it would end up on him!
His ... I don't even know a word for what I see in him! It's a mixture of so many good things: patience, endurance, fortitude, tranquility, acceptance, serenity, all liberally dosed in love. His strength shines through in every exasperated smile he gives me when he finds another piece of glitter in an unlikely location. His long-suffering is manifest every time he leaves the shiny where he found it. He is a manly man of God, and I love that about him.

So life. Life is good right now, there's a lot to do, but I think that's pretty normal. Life isn't so hectic that I feel as thought I'm running myself into the ground, but neither is it so slow that I'm driving myself crazy in trying to come up with stuff to do. There's still a lot of unpacking to do... I came to the startling realization yesterday that moving in with Husband was my 4th move in 1 year! I'm not complaining though, it has been a fantastic year, and I wouldn't trade it in for anything. So much has been accomplished in one year, it's crazy! I'm excited to see what the next one brings. :D

Maybe tomorrow I'll make a list of "102 Crazy Things That Happened in the Last Year"... That could be interesting...

But for now, Story Time!! Whoohoo! :D

~*~

T'Fen just laughed at the Woman's agitation. The flaming bird flew closer to the rooftop they perched upon.

"No really," she insisted. "How are we supposed to ride that without burning blacker than every dinner my ma ever made?"

Eyes twinkling with laughter, T'fen tossed her a length of rope. "Tie that end into a sling y'can sit in, then toss me th'other end."

"Right, because a rope will surely burn less than we will!" Her sarcasm made the the man's eyes roll.

"Rope blessed against fire will surely not burn at all--now tie that rope about ya!"

Her eyebrows raised, the Woman hastened to do as bid, then tossed the rope to T'fen. He was similarly outfitted in a sling, and snatched at the end of her rope to tie it off to his. As the Phoenix flew near to their tower, T'fen tossed the rope at the bird, who swooped to pluck it out of the air. It screamed its success to the fortress below, and soared up, pumping its wings to gain altitude.

"You'll have to tell me that story when we get back," the Woman said as they stood, watching the slack running out of their ropes.

"What story?"

"How you manages to afford a Phoenix and get your hands on blessed rope."

T'fen shrugged, just as they lifted off the roof. "'Twas cheaper than getting a dragon."

Post 100!!! Whoohoo!!! :D

Yay! This means I'm a real blogger now, right? ... maybe? What does that mean again? :S

#2 Things I Love About My Husband.
                 He thinks it's cute when I fart. That's true love right there folks, my guy thinks I'm cute when I fart. Even I don't think that about myself! But when I let one rip that he can hear from the other room he laughs and runs in to kiss me and tell me how adorable he thinks I am. And I love him for it--it's weird, but he builds my confidence and my trust in both myself as an individual and in our relationship by his delight in such a thing as my farts.
                 And yes, I think he's adorable when he farts too. As long as he's not giving me a Dutch Oven with them anyway... :P

I would love to give an update on life, but I only have a brief time left before writing-time expires. In choosing between personal anecdotes & continuing that story I started, Story won out. I don't know about you all, but I wanna find out what happens!

...Oh no, you weren't under the impression that I know what's going on in this story, were you? Psh, yeah right! ;)

~*~

The Man chuckled to himself as he swarmed back up the way he had come. Upon reaching the roof he turned to offer his assistance to the Woman. He frowned when she hesitated.

"Come on, our ride will be here soon and we need to be ready!"

"But T'fen, they've still got all my stuff!"

"We'll get you some shiny new stuff later. Now come ON!"

The Woman flashed him a grin and bounded up the rope, surprising T'fen into almost falling back into the cell. Upon reaching the rooftop she stood and stretched, then rubbed her wrists and gazed around.

"Where's this 'ride' we're s'posed to be escaping on?"

T'fen smiled and pointed. "Yonder."

"Where the fire is? So much for stealth."

"We're not gonna need stealth to get out of here. And our ride isn't at the fire, it's above it."

The Woman's eyes grew large as she saw what was hovering above a now blazing building.

"How're we s'posed to ride a phoenix?"

The Last of the 2 digit Posts

With post #99 I'm starting something new. I'm going to post 1 things I love about my husband (I have a husband guys! How weirdly awesome is that?!). Only 1 at a time, but I want to practice loving on him in a more public way than I usually show affection. Call me weird, but I love him, and I want to brag on him, because he's just that awesome. :) Be prepared, some will be deep, some shallow, and some will just be out-there... because that's just who we are.

So, here's to new traditions!

I love that sparkle in his eye that appears whenever he sees an opportunity for fun to be had. A new idea for a joke, a new place to explore, a new story to hear or be told--all of these things bring a spark into his eyes that tell me he's thinking of something that I absolutely want in on! I love seeing that twinkle light up his countenance. :)

With Post 99 I would also like to continue that snippet I started yesterday... Anyone else want to come along for the ride? ;)

~*~

The Woman allowed herself a slight smile as she felt the dust trickle onto her petite nose; otherwise she continued in her unmoving vigil. The only thing the guards looking in on her saw was her unsettling gaze at the floor.

No one bothered looking up.

The day passed, and with it the light died out and plunged the tower cell into darkness. Still the Woman stood. The guards outside her door chatted amiably about the extra shift on duty in the stairway of the tower; slowly their conversation died out as they nodded.

When all was silent in the tower the Woman at last looked up, just in time to see a section of the ceiling being pulled away to reveal the starlight of the night sky. A thin rope slithered through the hole, and a figure slithered down after it to land next to the Woman.

"What's this, still in chains? You're s'posed to be ready to go!"

The Woman laughed quietly at the confusion of the Man who had just entered her cell. Shaking her wrists quietly, she caught the manacles as they fell and lowered them to the ground without letting a noise escape them.

"I am ready."

Inspiration

I started this post the first time as a post about inspiration. It dead-ended pretty quickly. Irony: she's a Witch with a Capital "B". :P

The real question is: Now that writing about inspiration itself has failed, what to write about?

Story Time!!! :D

~*~

It was raining outside, but if the Woman in chains even heard it she gave to outward sign. Her jailers reported to the captain outside her cell that she hadn't moved in hours. All the Woman did was stand in the middle of the room, gazing at a fixed point on the floor.

The Captain peered through the door window at the Woman, more curious than malevolent.

"What's she see?"

"Dunno," one of the guards answered. "Must be mighty interestin' though. She ain't even moved to eat her breakfast, and you know how she is about not skipping those meals!"

The Captain knew how she was, and that only served to increase his suspicions. "You in there," he spoke through the door, "What's so interesting about that floor?"

Like the rain outside, the Captain's voice made no impact on the Woman; she continued her vigil. He shrugged and turned away from the cell and back to the guards.

"What d'ya want us to do?" one asked him.

Sparing another glance for the prisoner, the Captain shrugged again. "Nothing. She can stand there and look all she wants, what's it to us if she starves herself? It's not like anyone's coming to rescue her that way, we're as high up as ya get in this tower." I'll add another patrol to guard the stairs down, he thought all the same. Just to be safe.

When the Captain had departed, the guards gone back to their usual pastimes, and the rain was quieting the Woman was still in her place, watching the same portion of floor. Hours had passed.

A deliberate trickle of dust fell from the ceiling directly above the Woman, falling onto her nose.

She smiled.

~*~

And with that, I'll end Story Time for today. I like this one though, I may follow it a bit more, who knows? :) Guess we'll both hafta find out later.

Oh, and the new motto is: "Keep Calm: Nobody else knows what they're doing either."

I really do like writing... I swear I do!

Mer. I hate these kind of funks. They're crazy hate spirals of lethargy...

Guess what? Getting married didn't magically transform me into more responsible, upright, and constructive member of society. Shuckenzie.

Not that I actually thought it would, I really wasn't THAT dim... But I do remember thinking a few things like, "I'll work on that after the wedding", "It'll be so nice when there's more time to do ___", and even "Think of all the things we can do together after the wedding!"

And yes, the rational part of my self knew the whole time that I would still be the same person after as I was before, the same video-game playing, whimsical, sometimes-lazy, disorganized me. (I could add other adjectives, but I wanted to keep to the point... ish...) I knew changing Boyfriend's title to Husband would not change my personal characteristics overnight, but rather it would influence goals and objectives--bringing change to my self gradually over time.

But I think some small part of me (the five-year-old, probably... Her name is Sheila) was... not "disappointed", more like "bemused". I'm not a responsible adult yet, isn't that supposed to happen sometime? I still pick my lip, I still procrastinate, I still try to wriggle out of things I don't want to do, I still pick my nose when I'm by myself (you do too, admit it, tissue or no that booger came out of your nostril & it left by aid of your finger!!), and I still like playing video games & reading kids' books.

Not to blame this bafflement on marriage or Husband--no, I also experienced this vague bewilderment upon getting my driver's license, graduating highschool, graduating college, getting my own apartment, just about every milestone you can think of has been illumed by a brief ray of "Yes! We made it here!!" followed by a puzzling "wait, I still feel like I did before... is that supposed to happen?"

Now I know I'm going to get into trouble if I don't clarify this, so here we go. ;)

Marriage is wonderful, delightful, brand-new and all kinds of different than the single life I was living before. I love Husband, and the life we're building together is amazing and refreshing. I have new goals in life, new objectives, new "achievements to unlock" (yes, I have been playing more Skyrim than is strictly healthy...). But my thought patterns, personality quirks, habits, tics, selfish behaviours, the "inner demons" are still around. All that is still inside. Yes, the heart is trying to draw closer to God, and yes, it's delightful to travel that path with someone alongside me (I lurv you Husband!), and yet...

I dunno. I was really hoping I would've kicked that whole lip-picking thing by now. :P And the procrastinating thing, I was REALLY hoping to be over that... there's so much stuff to do now!? Like, y'know, thank you cards!!! SO MANY THANK YOU CARDS!!! Not to say I'm not thankful, I truly am! But that awful little Sheila (the 5yr-old) never wants to get my butt into gear and do productive stuff. :(

I'm really wondering where I was going with this when I started. I honestly have little-to-no idea right now, and am questioning the wisdom of writing anymore. But hey, why not? In about 10 minutes I'm signing off, going home, I swear by my pretty floral bonnet that tonight I will ACCOMPLISH THINGS!!

I should really get a pretty floral bonnet...

Y'know, things like paperwork, thank you cards, cleaning, nesting, unpacking, constructive grownup things that aren't just watching Doctor Who or Game of Thrones or playing Skyrim.

Man, that doesn't sound like fun at all. I should really stop whining sometime too, when does not whining anymore happen? I'm looking forward to that one.

When I was a kid, I always imagined adult problems would be so much more interesting. But they're not really, they've evolved so slowly that even looking back it's hard to tell when the kid problems morphed into today's worries. I know I'm different than I was, it's just hard to nail down how, exactly.

I'm glad Spring is here.