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Friday, December 19, 2014
On Clouds and Hospitals
I guess I'll start with what is the most pressing issue. One of my brothers is in the hospital right now. A couple weeks ago when he had his wisdom teeth removed, they discovered that his blood pressure was abnormally high. A lot of things have happened between then and now, but the short version of the story is that it is very likely that he has some kind of problem with his kidneys that is causing damage to both his kidneys and to his heart. He is having his kidneys biopsied tomorrow morning. Please pray for him if you think of him. Pray for my family too, especially my parents. They are pretty exhausted and worried about the potential outcome (and so am I).
On a more positive note, I'm on my Christmas break now. I've frittered my days away so far but that's what I've needed. I didn't realize how emotionally exhausted I was until school suddenly stopped. The past term has been tough on me. Not so much academically, that's been fine. School is going well and I'm loving my classes (yes, all 9 of them)! It's pretty great to feel that way. But I have certainly taken a few personal hits throughout the past couple months. I have often felt that I've been carrying a heavy load. Yet I am not discouraged. I still find myself full of hope. And that's also a pretty great feeling. I've always thought that resilience looks good on me. It's the word I've been wearing so far this year and suspect that I will continue to wear for the upcoming term.
Hm, what else? My grandpa will be going in for an open heart surgery sometime in January. He has been feeling very unwell lately and I am worried about him. Even though the surgery is the best option for him, I am worried about the outcome of that as well. It isn't a simple operation and the risk of death is fairly high. I'm praying that he does well. I've gone with him to some of his appointments now and it's been interesting to see things from more of a patient/family perspective. Same goes for the stuff with my brother. I'm not happy about what's going on with either of them, but I am thankful that I have some medical knowledge and for the chance to truly see things from the other side.
Other than the above: I'm still singing (choir performance at the hospital tomorrow), I'm still writing (see below), and I'm still dreaming (and always hoping for, looking for ways to get more out of this life). If we haven't seen or spoken to each other in a while, please give me a call. I'd love to reconnect with you. I'm sorry I have to be gone so often and that I have had to step away from aspects of my old life, but I promise I haven't forgotten about you.
Clouds (12/18/2014)
I have always made a habit of keeping my head up and my eyes open. Especially at night. I am convinced there is nothing more beautiful in this world than the sky at night. Have you ever looked at the stars and suddenly felt like you aren't alone anymore? Because that's when I feel when I look at them. When I look up I see old friends that I can talk to about anything.
Last Friday, you caught me stargazing, my face glowing with the orange hue of the city. I'd like to think that I became a little more dear to you in that moment. I have often thought it strange, to have the eyes of a young woman and the untarnished spirit of child. But I wouldn't have it any other way.
After I saw those stars I went home and sat in the pitch of my room. There's something about being awake in the early hours of the morning that I adore. If you time it right you can feel like you are the only person awake in the world, the only person alive. Complete solace. So I sat there, in the dark. Alone with my thoughts. Entirely comfortable in the midst of them. And you, washing over me like waves.
It struck me in that darkness that all nights of clarity have occurred when the sky was clear. Perfectly fitting for a loner and a lover of the night. I remember walking in the wilderness in shades of black. The stars were the clearest I have ever seen. My mind was the freest it has ever been. I don't think you know it because you couldn't see me in the darkness, but in that moment something celestial happened in me. I got this ethereal taste on my tongue again last night and felt completely satisfied. Satiated with and by my Now.
Riding on these feelings I put on my best dress and let my curls go the next night. The weather report called for clouds but I went out anyway. I should have known better to go out when there is cloud cover. I have never been so full and so empty all within twenty four hours. Rejection has never been a comfortable companion but I've kept him close anyway because he's reliable and predictable.
I drove home, cursing the snow I normally praise. Cursing the clouds from which it came from. Cursing every cloud that has ever stopped me from seeing the lights when I needed to. Wondering where God is in our heartbreaks. In my heartbreaks. Wondering what it even feels like to break your heart. I only know about things like acute coronary events and sources of non-cardiac chest pain. I sense the pain of heartbreak is less physiological but somehow just as threatening to the spirit. I guess I'll let you know what it's like when I find out.
And here I am. A week later. Sitting in the dark early in the morning. Wondering if the sky is clear tonight. My head isn't, so I suppose it isn't. Wondering if those stars will be mine again soon and if you'll be there to see them with me. Hoping something celestial might happen in me, again.
...
E
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
like the sea overflows onto the shore
no matter how full or how shallow
it spills--
I spill.
I spill and I can do nothing but spill
my words and the secrets of my feelings.
It's me, my paintbrush, my prose, and you.
my canvas.
I spill subtle mixtures of color all over you in the dark
you are pulling me in your tide and I wonder
what this dance might look like in the light,
how glorious you might look in the light with me
will I still see sixteenth notes dancing on your chest
and will your arms be as strong, as safe
at noon as they are at midnight?
and will there still be salt on my skin?
will I still find myself breathless in the midst of you?
dyspneic but not longing for air
because the storm of you is my calm.
exhausted yet never tired of being submerged in your waters--
for they fill the sea in me
and what is life for a sea but to spill
to tirelessly, recklessly spill
onto its shore.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
On Foxes and Love Languages
On Friday night I went out to the bar to celebrate a friend's birthday. It was okay and I'm glad I went but I can't help but feel like a misfit in situations like that. On the drive home I saw a baby fox run across the street close to my house. And it got me thinking: I am like that baby fox, running around in a place I don't belong, looking for my home. Always looking. Wondering where the other foxes are. Pondering where I should make my den in the meantime.
So I left the party that night like I have left so many before. Wanting more, wanting something deeper. From friends and from myself. Wanting conversation and philosophy and prose and meaning. Wanting to meet foxes.
Despite how it sounds Friday played out, I have been fortunate enough to experience deepening friendships with a few people who are very dear to me. One new friend (who already feels like an old friend) came over yesterday and we played music together and talked and laughed. They don't know it, but it was a therapeutic exercise for me. It was what I was wanting on Friday but couldn't get at between the deafening music and bright lights. It's nice to have people in your life that know you are not a normal person and even like you for it.
Something that has been helpful to me in developing deeper relationships with people has been Gary Chapman's concept of "love languages." Chapman suggests that there are five key love languages and that each individual has a primary love language (native tongue, if you will) in which they prefer to "speak." If you know how a person best feels loved, it is much easier to know how to make them feel valued and loved. And if you know what your love languages are, you can know in what ways you are fluent in showing love and in what ways you could probably work on to benefit others. The five love languages are: words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, and giving/receiving gifts. My primary love languages are quality time and physical touch, in case you were wondering. You probably know what yours are already too, if you give it a bit of thought.
So, I guess that's a little bit of what's been going on lately. Years after starting this blog I have finally reached a milestone of 50 posts with this one. I find that I am always writing but not always posting. I'm working on learning to do more of the latter. On learning to unpack my heart. If you've been reading you know this isn't easy for me.
Here's to being up for the challenge,
E
Saturday, September 20, 2014
On North and Maps
Another Saturday has come and gone. Today was a productive day. I was up and working by 7 and managed to meet all my work targets for the week by early afternoon, as well as squeeze in some time for cleaning and a soccer game. I can't lie to you: eighty hour work weeks are strenuous for me. And I'm feeling pretty fatigued some days. But when I find the time for some reflective thinking (usually at night, just before I drift off) I am still feeling thankful. Happy with how I'm doing, with what I'm learning. Glad to be on this crazy journey.
I just finished my fifth week of school and it's unbelievable how much more knowledgeable I am already. Not that I consider myself to be knowledgeable. But I can see my own progress and I am already susbstantially better than I was several weeks ago. That's rewarding and exciting. I have also learned quite a few new words (duodenoduodenotomy is nearing the top of my favourites list, I think). And you know I love words, so you can understand why I am delighted by these things.
All this being said, there is something aching in me today. Something that feels unsettled without any known reason. Maybe it's something that wants more. Out of myself, out of people I care about, I'm not sure. Maybe my expectations are just too high and that's leaving me wanting. Maybe you can tell me?
North
you are like a map to me
you are a map to me
and I am losing myself
in your keys, your legend
your atlas.
you are true north to me
resilient, strong, evergreen.
steady and firm. your thoughts:
sacred and safe with me
and when I go west, finding myself
alone with the promise of company
you bring me back
magnetic, sure.
you are true north to me
and you know well
the contour of my spine,
the curve of my smile
you are a map to me
and I am losing myself
in you, for you
I am losing.
E.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
On Words and Means
I found myself early this morning over Denver, pressing words into my forehead through a crystallized window pane. Wishing I was better at giving my words to people. Paper has been a long time friend of mine. Paper understands. Paper unconditionally accepts whatever ink or charcoal shapes we give to it. And the things we can proove with paper are boundless. I found myself dreaming of equations: mathematical and physical laws of the universe. About how they bring order and comfort to us. How they allow us to discourse about phenomena which would be otherwise impossible to explain.
I found myself daydreaming, shivering in the memory of those nights in June. They were glorious nights wrapped in scientific discussion. They were beautiful nights--times of being held closer than I have been held in many years. Nights of surrounding myself in those words and equations that scrawled themselves out as a kiss to the forehead, then the nose, then the cheek--
And now I find myself acutely aware of the limitations of our words. Wondering about how much may be lost or added in well-meaning text. About how words are everything to me and have been since my infancy. About how words are not enough.
Yet I want more words. I need more words. I find myself at night, soaking the words into my skin. Thinking that maybe if the compress is closer or if the steam is hotter I will be able to force the words out, through my pores rather than my mouth.
In the same thought-breath, I think about love. About what it is that makes a person fall in love with someone or something. About how different this may be from what prompts a person to love. I know inside of me that falling in love is not the same as living a life of love and this calms some of the thought storms in my mind.
I find myself thinking about how I have much to learn in this life. But I also find myself, knowing, now: the human soul can excel in bringing love to the world it lives in. Its thoughts are beautiful and rugged, like wildflowers. Its words mean. And it means simply because it exists.
I find myself thinking about how lucky we are that other souls are here with us. To share in our world, our words. How wonderful it is that we do not have to be lonely even in times of being left alone. I have always been curious about the way these souls, our friends, have a way of flitting in and out of our lives at just the right moment. Somehow they manage to be perfectly on cue in the production that I call my life. I find myself feeling thankful for those friends who have fallen back into my life, like pretty little snowflakes. Calm and cool on my eyelashes. I find myself praying for safety and deeper meaning for those who are somewhere else now.
I find myself thinking that I cherish you and that I want to tell you so. But just look how words are not enough! They will never be enough. But if you find this insufficient prose, know you are cherished. Let these words mean what it is they are meant to mean for you.
Mahalo for reading these midnight ramblings,
E.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
On Wisdom and Humility
Sunday, July 27, 2014
On Whimsy and Answers
Tonight is my sixth night in my own bed since final exams. I have been on the road a lot--camping, cabin-ing, concert-ing, etc. and have been enjoying pretty much every second of it. Honestly enough, I have been having far too much fun this summer. I am not used to such freedom and flexibility but I'd like to think that I am embracing it well so far.
If you were on my email list you would have received some blog-like updates about my northern experience in Dillon. I am not going to post what I wrote here for privacy and confidentiality purposes. But, if you would like a copy of the letters please let me know and I will send them to you. In summary, I had an excellent time living in Dillon and being a part of the community there. I was lucky enough to be offered many experiences which I will not soon forget. And I met so many people whom I will not soon forget.
The thing about living in community is that it really helps you develop a heart for the people you are living with and around. It is one thing to say you care for the marginalized and that you want to help and it is another to live alongside them, to sit in their homes and be a part of their family, to experience first hand the struggles and triumphs of being a certain person from a certain place. I still have much to learn but I feel like I'm on my way to getting it. For myself I have found that living with people leads me to love them and to desire what God desires for them. I was fortunate enough to find an unsuspecting but true kindred spirit while up north. We were able to meet up this week and we talked for eight hours straight (which was certainly a feat for both of us). I don't think either of us realized how much we had missed each other since we parted ways in June (or at least I hadn't)!
I have recently added "whimsy" to my list of favourite words. A quote from one of my summer reads, Halter and Smay's The Tangible Kingdom will help you understand why:
"For whatever reason, the church at large has theologized the idea of personal holiness to exclude normal interaction with the world. Many churches we [the authors] work with have an alarming theology of "extraction" that creates a Christian peer pressure to move away from the world in all its forms. To these people, the world is dirty, dark, intimidating, and evil. The issue of "How incarnational should an incarnational community be?" is why we must align our theology around the call of mission...the havit of living among, means participating in the natural activities of the culture around you, with whimsical holiness.
The question of whether we "should" be in the world is pretty easy to reconcile. Christ addressed the issue this way. He told us in Matthew 5:13 that we were to be "salt and light." We've heard enough sermons on this to know that salt is a preserving agent, and it also releases flavour. The metaphor screams for our intimate proximity to those in need of preserving any taste of something great. In 1 John 2:6, we're confronted with the bottom line: "This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did." Obviously, to walk as Jesus did means we not only have freed to but were commanded to live in the world like Christ did."
Good, yes? The above paragraphs have impacted my thinking very much. I know that there are some in the church who may not agree with some of the things I have participated in this summer. But because of who Christ is in me I have been able to be involved in everything from sweat lodges to square dancing in a way that I believe brings honour and glory to the Lord. And that's kind of awesome and freeing for me.
Other summer things: there was a question that I asked God last June. He answered no and I didn't understand why (see previous posts). Something prompted me to ask Him this question again last week. He said yes. So I think something is about to change for me. I feel like I'm on the brink of something rather beautiful and exciting. I feel like I am overflowing with joy and happiness about this shifting of tides, this changing of seasons. I'll let you know how it goes!
Talk soon,
E
Current listenings:
Rivers in the Wasteland: needtobreathe
Prism: Katy Perry
Fading West: Switchfoot
How We Look at Horses: Trent Dabbs
Yes!: Jason Mraz
Chief: Eric Church
Ghost Stories: Coldplay (obviously).
Saturday, April 5, 2014
On Seeking and Readiness
who keeps the stars alight
and our souls burning
with a light even greater than the stars
grant that we may shine before thee
as the stars do:
forever and ever.
burning in the night
even when no one sees them
so hold the light
burning in our souls--
when we see neither thee nor it
but are buried in the darkness of sleep and forgetfulness.
just as a mother sits by the bedside
of her wailing infant through the long night.
yet be even nearer to us,
be in our very souls
and watch over the world of dreams
they make for themselves.
of your thinking may come into our hearts
day by day
until there is an open road
between thou and us
and your angels ascend and descend upon us
so that we may be part of your kingdom
even while we walk upon your earth.
Friday, February 28, 2014
On What I Learned at Mindfulness and Wells
"...most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive. But the INFJ is as genuinely warm as they are complex." (Portrait of an INFJ)
^ This is the story of 2013 for me. 2013 was a year of me being deliberate about relationship building, community involvement, and servant leadership. It was an expensive year for me in terms of personal/emotional energy spent. It was a year of bravery...looking back I shared more of what's going on inside my mind with friends this year than I have for a while. There is a part of me that is proud of me for some of the risks I took. But there is another, bigger part that is pulling me away. Telling me I need to withdraw. Telling me to protect myself. Reminding me that though I am braver for taking the risks, my emotional energy has been depleted, drained. Reminding me that I am still being depleted, drained by some lingering thoughts and feelings.
Thus, though I entered 2013 open and engaged relationally, I find myself exiting by closing my proverbial clamshell. I am shutting a piece of myself away in this season. I guess if anyone is wondering where that piece of E is you can tell them it's being reserved for events worthy of its energy expenditure. And though it seems contrary to what freedom is thought to be, closing the clamshell is just that for me in this season. This is the art of letting go for me: allowing myself to close the doors of my heart to things that I used to think were worth my emotional energy. Allowing myself to close physical doors and create a real barrier between my inner world and the outer reality. Allowing my energy to build up again so that sometime, in the future, I can shoot it out in another direction. This is a glorious, healing process for me.
This is also one of the reasons that I have not posted in a while. I wrote the above paragraphs at the end of December. Tomorrow it will be March 11.
Something very good has happened between then and now. Of course, there have been better days and worse days. That's just how life works. I had the chance to talk to several friends since who know how to make me feel better. And I do feel better. I feel like I have more perspective, too.
I do not think I have ever put this down on paper before, but I am realizing that I have an algorithm for divvying up my emotional/relational energy. Here is the order of priority:
(1) People who need my love most but may be incapable of returning love to me
(2) People who need my love and are capable of returning love to me
(3) People who do not need my love and are capable of returning love to me
(4) People who do not need my love and are incapable of returning love to me
It's a system that makes sense to me, generally speaking. In reality I guess it would be better expressed as a continuum, or graphed using 4 quadrants. Nevertheless, it reflects a piece of me that I am proud of: a heart for those on the fringe, the outsiders, the foreigners--the people that need healing and restoration before they can live and love again. In hindsight I feel like one of the reasons I felt drained entering the new year is that I spent a bit too much time on the #4 type people in my life. I feel stupid for it. I feel raw for admitting that I feel stupid about it. I feel stupid for not being able to see the truth because I just wanted to feel accepted. But the truth is the #4s do not care about me. They do not need my love and anything I have given them will not be returned. The truth is, I probably could have used some of that energy to do good in someone else's life or my own. But I just gave it away and hurt myself in the process. The truth is, I feel angry at myself. I feel a level of resentment for those #4s that took my energy and my love when they didn't need it and gave me nothing in return. The truth is that "I had wax wings and flew too close to you. Now I'm falling, remembering why I missed you."
"Suppose there is a well of fathomless trouble inside your heart, and Jesus comes and says--"Let not your heart be troubled"; and you shrug your shoulders and say, "But Lord, the well is deep; You cannot draw up quietness and comfort out of it." No, he will bring them down from above. Jesus does not bring anything up from the wells of human nature. We limit the Holy One by remembering what we have allowed Him to do for us in the past, and by saying, "Of course I cannot expect God to do this thing." When we get into difficult circumstances, we impoverish His ministry by saying--"Of course He cannot do anything," and we struggle down to the deeps and try to get the water for ourselves. Beware the satisfaction of sinking back and saying--"It can't be done"; you know it can be done if you look to Jesus. The well of your incompleteness is deep, but make the effort and look away to Him." (O. Chambers)
I have been guilty of believing the well in my own heart was much too deep to draw life-giving waters out of. Of course this is complete fallacy for we are not filled from the earth below our feet but from the grace of God above. I leak and he fills me up though I am undeserving. Amazing.
On another note, I went to a mindfulness and meditation session a while ago and wanted to share with you something interesting that happened there. Meditation is something I have been skeptical of in the past because it seems "airy fairy" or something like that. Something for strong feelers rather than over-analyzers. But I actually had an incredible experience in meditation. I was sitting there, eyes closed, following the directions of the teacher. We moved into a time of specialized, focused breathing. "Pay attention to your breath," she said. "Where is it rising? Where is it falling? What does it feel like?"
I've been breathing my whole life but there haven't been many times where I have considered what it feels like to take a breath. Breathing is a really amazing process, especially if you know some of the physiology behind it. Eyes still closed, I felt my breath linger on my top lip, dance around my philtrum, and flow into my nostrils. It felt warm and comforting--something I didn't think breath was capable of making me feel. "What is your breath telling you?" she asked. In that moment I heard a whisper inside of me say, "As close as this breath is to you, as far into you as it reaches, I will be closer to you still. I will reach farther into you and give you life." My eyes are still closed but they filled with tears. I am overwhelmed with emotion and sitting on a yoga mat. This is not a moment I will let go of anytime soon.
So--it's been a long time since the last post. But I am okay, and I am going to be okay. You will be too.
Love,
E.