The rest of the book stinks, but the first paragraph is great:
Indian wisdom says our lives are rivers. We are born somewhere small and quiet and we move toward a place we cannot see, but only imagine. Along our journey, people and events flow into us, and we are created of everywhere and everyone we have passed. Each event, each person, changes us in some way. Even in times of drought we are still moving and growing, but it is during seasons of rain that we expand the most--when water flows from all diredtions, sweeping at terrifying speed, chasing against rocks, spilling over boundaries. These are painful times, but they enable us to carry burdens we could never have thought possible.
"Life is a Banquet
Dorothy Day
We know God in the breaking of bread, and we know each other in the breaking of bread, and we are not alone anymore. Heaven is a banquet, and life is a banquet too - even with a crust - where there is companionship. We have all known loneliness, and we have learned that the only solution is love, and that love comes with community. (Dorothy Day: The Long Loneliness)
I pray we all can find the crust of community, true community within our lives during this season. This is something for which I am truly grateful this thanksgiving season. The way our lives have intertwined and our hearts have been seen. I thank God for each of you today."
It has been a year of untwining and change, but also of much intertwining and friendship given. My heart has been seen, as well as cared for. You know who you are. Thanks.
I've been going through my books today. Culling. Putting aside. Taking to McKay's. Listing for sale on Amazon. It's pretty humbling, as I have looked at lots of books and known that I was never going to take the time to read them, or that I bought them in a pretentious moment, a moment when I thought it would be cool-enhancing to have read it, a moment when I was pretending. Or even if the intention to read was real and true and good, facing so many books that I hadn't read was just stumbling. And hard. It's hard to face some of the bad stuff about yourself--I guess that's why I avoid cleaning or fixing--I'm avoiding reality. I'd rather be gasping on about how I don't have time to do anything. I'd rather be out drinking coffee. I'd rather be complaining about how much is going on in my life right now. I'd rather be babysitting. I'd rather be wasting time or money. Preferably both.
The books have made me think about people. All the pop culture books reminded me of B---. All the books she gave brought her to the front of my mind, along with all the moments of laughter and grace. All the Henri Nouwen books reminded me of S----. I pulled a colouring book page out of one book and it was signed 'A------ D------.' All the student development books reminded me of something that I wanted and once again I'm humbled, seeing that it is really good that I didn't get it.
But it is really good to be getting rid of stuff. No, I'm not suicidal. Just wanting to live in a simpler way. Streamlined. Organized. Getting rid of stuff I don't need.
He gave answers to questions they didn’t ask
sometimes they didn’t dare
open their mouths anymore
not because they hadn’t understood
he was taking from them
everything sacred and safe
he offered no guarantees
Fire was not sacred to him or neon
not singing or silence
not fornication or chastity
in his speech foxes, bread dough,
and much mended nets became sacred
the down and out were his proof
and actually he had as much assurance
of victory as we in these parts do
--Dorothee Solle
"It's not that I'm paranoid, it's that they're out to get me."
"It's not that I'm paranoid, it's just that if I turn all the lights out [in the house] I'll see them before they see me."
Oh...help.
Plan B: Further Thoughts On Faith
by Anne Lamott
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I thought I had lost some music, as I haven't been diligent about transferring iTunes songs from my iBook to my iMac.
From this afternoon's email:
Dear Michael,
Thank you for contacting the iTunes Music Store.
Having carefully considered your request, we will allow you to re-download the titles that you have purchased from the iTunes Music Store. To download again, open iTunes and select Check for Purchased Music from iTunes' Advanced menu.
They gave me a fine burial down
by the stream under a shade tree. That was the
end of my being a dog. Sometimes I miss it so
I sit by the window and cry. I live in a high-rise
that looks out at a bunch of other high-rises.
At my job I work in a cubicle and barely speak
to anyone all day. This is my reward for being
a good dog. The human wolves don't even see me.
They fear me not.
James Tate was born in Kansas City, Missouri, in 1943. He is the author of Memoir of the Hawk (2001); Shroud of the Gnome (1997); Worshipful Company of Fletchers (1994), which won the National Book Award; Selected Poems (1991), which won the Pulitzer Prize and the William Carlos Williams Award for Poetry; Distance from Loved Ones (1990); Reckoner (1986); Constant Defender (1983); Riven Doggeries (1979); Viper Jazz (1976); Absences (1972); Hints to Pilgrims (1971); The Oblivion Ha-Ha (1970); and The Lost Pilot (1967), which was selected by Dudley Fitts for the Yale Series of Younger Poets. He is also the author of three books of prose, including a collection of stories, Dreams of a Robot Dancing Bee, and the editor of The Best American Poetry 1997. His many honors include the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets. He teaches at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst.
Please pray for my friend Joanna. Her husband just called. Joanna's appendix ruptured a couple of weeks ago, and she's developed an abscess. Her blood isn't clotting, so they're giving her a platelet transfusion, and taking her to surgery.
14 naps
one gift of a Shane & Shane CD (amt, thanks SO MUCH!)
one dinner with M & B, one dinner with W & B, one dinner with Wigginshire
one cancelled dinner with M & B, one cancelled dinner with W & B, one cancelled dinner with Wigginshire
one weekend rental of 2005 bright red Ford Expedition
Atlanta from the 33rd floor
'My Big Fat Greek Wedding'
lots of coffee
lots of prayer
lots of cell phone minutes
several absolutely hysterical im communications with karagraphy
'mm'
the new U2 album
Rev. Skip Ryan's preaching about integrity
Bob
trust
not lashing out
excitement about the summer
kind words
true words
videos and guest lecturers
Raybans
According to a study in next week's Proceedings of the National Academy of
Sciences, there is a possibility that the brain can be trained and
intentionally altered through mental activities such as meditation.
Researchers monitored Buddhist monks in the Dalai Lama's home for five days
to evaluate the effect of meditation on neuroplasticity-a term that refers
to the brain's ability to strengthen and weaken certain mental circuits-and
found that during meditation sessions, monks showed a "dramatic increase" in
high-frequency brain activities compared with "novice meditators," who
showed only a "slight increase" in activity. Scientists noted that although
they could not "rule out the possibility [of] a pre-existing difference" in
the brain function of the two groups, the fact that the monks who had
meditated the most "showed the greatest brain changes [gave them] confidence
that the changes are actually produced by mental activity."
from a recent outgoing email:
May the steadfast love of the Lord surround you (Ps. 32) and may the
time of rest coming up rejuvenate your love for God. Don't ignore your
Bible, which is so easy for all of us busy people to do. Let God speak
to you in significant ways, and let him heal your heart. Just keep
following him, that's the only place I've found confidence and joy and
healing. It's a really good place. And it's OK to cry too, there's healing in them thar tears.