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.