souliloquies

randomocity-ish-ness

just some random thoughts...

~i am working on being less grouchy & negative about stuff. trying to be glass half-full instead of glass half-empty. not always succeeding, far from it!, but at least more aware when it happens! working on being more grateful for all that i have, too, instead of just yearning for all that i don't. which, these days, seems like quite a list, frankly. so it's a good time to work on it!

~it's cold at night. my feet are very cold.

~i might actually be about to get a new tattoo, with at least some of my fellow naked poker never naked, never poker, regular-night-out-together girls; an idea inspired by the to write love on her arms movement.  if i can figure out where the money is going to come from, that is. things are unbelievably tight these days. see above.

~i have the most wonderful dog...

~whose face do you love to smooshy-kiss who's not related to you? my list includes doug, david, emily, alan & katie!

~leftover halloween candy is a good thing, especially when it's little reese's cups. YUM.

well, that's enough. i'm hungry now. and it's way past my bedtime, so i better hurry up.  goodnight!

you're welcome

the quote for the day:

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends. If they're okay...

then it's you.

~Rita Mae Brown

those of you with me for a friend are now thinking whew! i'm off the hook! so glad to be able to help like that!

thank you for missing me. if you did, that is...

the HH says i owe you a post, about my birthday party.  which is true. but what is also true is that i have been sick now, off and on mostly on for the last 2 weeks. i've been told it's the flu. and h1n1 is going around classes at my daughter's school literally half-empty so i wouldn't be surprised if i'm a statistic there. with all that, you see, i haven't had much impetus to write my own name endorsing a large check to deposit, much less anything else.  and i'm not going to write a big hairy post, for sure. so, suffice to say that the party committee outdid themselves, and some of the most wonderful people ever born were in attendance, and a marvelous time was had by all. especially me.

and, like it or not, huge happy party or not--i turned 50. 

recently i was reminded of the time our oldest, he who is now 22 who, coming up on his 4th birthday, decided he wasn't going to be 4. nope, he wanted to jump right from 3 to 5--4, apparently, being a lame age, because you couldn't go to kindergarten if you were 4, but you could if you were 5. however, when he realized that meant no birthday presents, no cake, no festivities, he decided not being 4 wasn't worth what he'd lose. i think i my party was kind of the reverse of that--a sop to turning 50, a bribe, as it were. mm-hmm.

i must say, the last 2 weeks have been a challenge to get through: being sick, some struggles at work having to confront that i'm not doing very well providing leadership to my staff in significant ways, then being behind on everything, what with no energy to put into catching up and doing better... sigh. oh well. with any luck the sickness will go, the wisdom that comes with being old will kick in, and my life will get back on track.

until then, i'll just remind myself to keep taking deep breaths, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. while wearing warm socks, and taking lots of vitamin C. just in case...

it's something...

last night my husband looked up from his laptop and asked are you ever going to blog again?

sigh.

it shouldn't be this hard. i mean, when i started blogging i expected that it would be something i loved to do, that i would do it often, and, of course, that you would love it. yes. but it hasn't exactly turned out that way, has it? i know. and i'm sorry.

there are all sorts of reasons, especially for this last hiatus almost 3 weeks now. most of them have to do with the fact that life is just hard--really hard--right now, and i'm slogging through, and didn't think you'd really enjoy reading about health concerns, money concerns, job concerns, worries and more worries. i've given you enough struggle stuff lately, and i'm starting to worry that i'll become in your minds that woman who just blogs about the crap in her life. i can't read it any more, it's too depressing! i'm saving those things for the privacy of my journal. although it occurs to me that, if you're still out there reading, you have either have a strong stomach for that kind of stuff, or the comparison makes your life seem all that much better! or of course, you're just a fool for punishment.

i am consoled, in my lack of bloggingness, that i am not, as i've said before, alone.  in the list of blogs that i read regularly, there are several that's more than four that have sat, neglected and un-updated, longer than mine; whose last posts are weeks & months old. and although she writes much more regularly, this post by serenity made me laugh. and nod my head. and you might notice, when i read it the first time, comment.

and, when i look, there are some pretty good things going on.  plans for the birthday party are in full swing--so much so, in fact, that last night i began feeling rather guilty and selfish about all the work people are putting in on it. but it's too late now, so i'm going to sit back and try to enjoy it. !

and i'm working with the rock star who, i'm sure, hates that i call him that--got any suggestions? maybe i'll just call him the client on this, which is so worthwhile and exciting and satisfying, i can't even begin to tell you.

and i'm thinking of moving this blog to wordpress. kind of tired of the current platform, which fights me continually about what should be simple issues like font style and size. anybody over there? what do you like or not like about it? how do you vote?

finally--it's fall. i'm looking forward to cooler weather, and colorful leaves, and writer's group starting again. and rain. 

huh. looky there! i just wrote a whole blog post. and not all of it was a downer, was it? a little progress. i'll take it!

cracked

 

i came across some lyrics from a leonard cohen piece yesterday. i don't know this song, and frankly the sample of it on itunes didn't impress me mr cohen wasn't much with a melody here! but these words, oh they struck me:

Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack in everything 
That's how the light gets in. 

i think it struck so hard because i'm feeling so cracked myself lately. i'm very much aware of how broken i am, how deeply in need of the healing and wholeness i've received from Jesus. it's the awareness of that lovely conundrum of being redeemed, but knowing that it's a process, and one that is far, far from finished. 

so hard as it is, i think i hope it's good that i'm confronted right now with all this--that it means the Spirit is working in me, changing me, healing me, making me more like Him. while on the one hand i'm aware of how far there is to go, it's encouraging to think that at least going is possible, even if it's a long journey. in another part of this song, it declares every heart, every heart to love will come, but like a refugee. yes. as i flee my old, broken and shattered self, i've come to the One who is Love, and Light, and He's come in through the cracks to fill me up, and to also be the Way, the Road marked out for me to follow.

and, even though i don't think mr. cohen was necessarily writing about God,who knows, though? his words are a reminder to me that i don't need to wait for the end of the journey, when all the healing and transforming and repairing and restoring will be done; instead, i need to ring the bells now. as i go. humbly, but faithfully, as cracked as i am, i need to and want to ring the bells of  celebration, of worship, offering up to Him what i have, however damaged, however broken, as we go.  

i know that, theologically, it's more that the crack in everything is how the Light got out, was lost in the first place. but i also think it's in our brokenness, and through those times of cracking, that He has opportunity to come back in. and the image of something that, once dark and ugly, marred by fractures--shattered, ready to fall apart--is now a vessel for Light, Light that not only has come in and filled it, but holds it together and makes it something new and whole-- that gives me comfort, gives me peace. 

and cracked as i am, i can ring those bells.

just so you know

i realize i've kind of left you hanging with my sadness post. so i wanted to let you know i'm better. things aren't necessarily better--lots of things are still difficult; i have quite a list of things that are weighing me down right now, not the least of which i can't really talk about. but still, it's better, or at least i'm doing better with them, and don't feel anymore like i can't get a deep breath, although the figurative air is still pretty thick around here.  i think some of it is that i've got process or strategy for dealing with some things, and some of it is that i just can't stay that sad for that long. it's tiring, and it's boring.

and, some god things are happening in other areas, too. which is very, very helpful. 

on another topic, on monday i'm going to spend the day with the lovely emily, who, as one part of our time together, is taking me to see a piece of property in i think sonoma that she says is perfect for the artists' retreat i dream of someday having. it'd be a place where artists could come for both short- and long-term retreat time, a place with studios for painters and sculptors and writers and musicians... a Christ-centered retreat as opposed to a retreat for Christian artists. where artists can come and focus on their work, away from distractions, to have solitary time as well as communal time in the midst of their fellow artists. short-term stays would allow for the start or finish of a particular project; long-term stays would be as an artist-in-residence, with time not only to work on a particular work but also to connect with and contribute to the artistic experience of the surrounding community. a place with a public performance space, a gallery, a chapel...  all this emily understands, and when she saw this property a few months ago, realized it could very well be perfect. yes, it's for sale, and although i have no money--actually, i have less than none--this is all a castle in the air--i also know that sometimes miracles happen. so i'll go look. and dream. and whatever happens--or more likely, doesn't--it seems to be a reminder from God, through emily, that the dreams He gives--the desires of our hearts--however impossible they may appear, are valuable and should be noted and nurtured and nourished, kept alive. that this dream of mine has merit. and someday--in a way i can't even imagine--may just be brought forth into reality.

so how can i stay sad with that going on?

:)

rub-a-dub-dub

...no zanne in a tub.

because i don't have one. only a shower in the master bath.  and although the kids do have one in their bathroom, it's not the right kind. it's narrow, and full of the kids' shampoos & conditioners and various kinds of soap and body wash, and worst of all it's the kind with sliding glass doors, which frankly, make me claustrophobic. it's not a bathtub where you can sit with a glass of wine and have a good cry, which is what i need to do tonight. 

today was not a great day. the window in my truck, which has some problems, is now stuck rolled down, which means i can't lock the truck, and have to hope it's okay in the driveway all night. i found out the HH can't, after all, go with me to the Fray concert next month, which is quite disappointing, and means that i need to find someone else to go with me--all this assuming there are still tickets available on friday when we get paid. i'm hoping my friend kathy can go! and then--well, i got some difficult, sad news that i can't talk about because it's still confidential and all that put together means the obvious response is to go take a long, hot, wine-assisted bath. and cry.

and i can't.

what is it about baths, anyway? what is it that makes it so therapeutic to sit in hot water with lots of bubbles, and drink a large glass of wine or two or a whole bottle and have a good cry? i don't know. but there's something about the isolation, and the saltwater running off my face into the bubbles, and the cool long-stemmed glass in my hand that i long for--that i really need--tonight.

so if you have a good tub, and there's a knock on your door, you might just open it to find me standing on your front porch in my bathrobe.  

but don't worry.  i'll bring my own wine.

took me by surprise

doesn't matter where i go, or what i'm doing, there it is. and i'm sure it's the same for you.

when i went into the video store, there he was, in not-so-living color on the triple-screen displays, grinding and gliding, thrilling me.

got in the car with a musician friend after a gig--a gig in which he played a lovely rendition of the way you make me feel in tribute--and, as he turned the inevitable music on, said in mock apology that he, just like everyone else these days, was totally wrapped up in listening to the king. not even the king of pop, did you catch that?  just the king.

and i have to confess that this untimely death and the resulting frenzy has made me look at my itunes library and think--hey! i don't have any michael jackson here! i know i had some at one time, but i suppose it was on cassette tape and didn't survive the journey through the years and transition to digital music. so i have none. the temptation to go immediately and buy all of jackson's music has been pretty strong. it's been quite a while since i've listened to michael in any sustained focused kind of way, and i'd actually forgotten how brilliant his music is, how riveting his videos, how far beyond spectacular the force of his talent. a hackneyed phrase, to call him one of the truly great, and yet no less true of him for all that. born at the right time, in the right culture, he took what music was and made it more than it otherwise ever could be.

but let's be honest.  it's not been easy these last few years to be a michael jackson fan.  the strangeness, the suspicions, the bizarre reports of behavior, the trial, the children, his children... the last 15 or 20 years have taken their toll on people's opinion of michael.  it's always hard, sometimes near impossible, for the public to separate a performing artist and their art.  so when an artist is alleged to be involved in activities that the general public finds objectionable or even abhorrent, it's hard for that public to fully embrace the art itself. outside of one or two people who have been all along strong and objective enough to make that distinction, i know of no one who hasn't somehow felt the need to express their love for his music without some kind of disclaimer, some kind of need to acknowledge that loving the music and the musician doesn't necessarily mean loving all that the man might be or do.

what's captivating me is that somehow, now, that's all changed. while no one's denying the fact that michael jackson's personal life does not appear to have been what most people would call normal,or even desirable, michael's death seems to have done more for michael's music that michael's last decades of living ever could.  somehow, death has, in a very final and inviolable way, allowed people the freedom to appreciate michael's genius without feeling drawn into michael's pathos. his brilliance has somehow been rediscovered, as if the stories from his personal life were simply a layer of grime covering the purity of his incredible talent and artistic ability that has now been lifted away. 

i don't know why it is. i didn't even realize, until these last few days, that i carried myself a reluctance to enjoy michael's music, that i myself sometimes felt a compulsion to distance myself from his music, because of the stories about his personal life. i can think of possible explanations, and i'm sure you can too, but none of them really ring true for me. and i don't know how i feel about the fact that i now feel somewhat released from that reluctance now that he's gone. it's something i'm going to need to sort out, to examine about myself. what i do know, however, is that i'm looking forward to starting to enjoy some fabulous music i've pretty much ignored for a while, that i can't wait to go buy it, to own it, to relish it. it's a new compulsion regarding michael jackson, and of the two, the one i'm pretty sure i'd rather have.

I can't help it if I wanted to

I wouldn't help it even if I could

I can't help it if I wanted to

I wouldn't help it, no

i can't help it--off the wall

progress

remember this post?  well, today was a little nutty as well. certainly not as crazy as the day that prompted the afore-mentioned confession, but still quite challenging in its own right, at least technically, and in more ways than one. and guess what? i was calm, cool & collected the whole time. the whole time. no crappy attitude. no freaking out--instead i was flexible, go-with-the-flow, and most importantly--not cranky. you may not give a rat's ass, but i'm very proud of myself. and all without any mental glucosamine. now that's progress.

i wish it were mine

found this on seth godin's blog. i wish i'd written it. i wish i had an office, because it'd probably get printed up and framed and put up on the wall there.  as it is, i'm re-posting it here for you, because it's a good thing to read, and share, and to remember.  

You matter

• When you love the work you do and the people you do it with, you matter. 
• When you are so gracious and generous and aware that you think of other people before yourself, you matter.
• When you leave the world a better place than you found it, you matter.
• When you continue to raise the bar on what you do and how you do it, you matter.
• When you teach and forgive and teach more before you rush to judge and demean, you matter.
• When you touch the people in your life through your actions (and your words), you matter.
• When kids grow up wanting to be you, you matter.
• When you see the world as it is, but insist on making it more like it could be, you matter.
• When you inspire a Nobel prize winner or a slum dweller, you matter.
• When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.
• And when the legacy you leave behind lasts for hours, days or a lifetime, you matter.

• When you love the work you do and the people you do it with, you matter. 
• When you are so gracious and generous and aware that you think of other people before yourself, you matter.
• When you leave the world a better place than you found it, you matter.
• When you continue to raise the bar on what you do and how you do it, you matter.
• When you teach and forgive and teach more before you rush to judge and demean, you matter.
• When you touch the people in your life through your actions (and your words), you matter.
• When kids grow up wanting to be you, you matter.
• When you see the world as it is, but insist on making it more like it could be, you matter.
• When you inspire a Nobel prize winner or a slum dweller, you matter.
• When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.
• And when the legacy you leave behind lasts for hours, days or a lifetime, you matter.