Ohhh

So that's how you back date. It's in the computer!

whoops

whelp, I'm out of the game. It was fun while it lasted.

However, I am home. It is warm and sunny and dry and blue skies and my very own family and baby nephew and friends and no responsibilities and love and acceptance and music and my old starbucks and reading nice book and pumpkin cookies and roots.

HOME

is where I am going in just a few hours.

Togetherness

"We are human because we belong. We are made for community, for togetherness, for family, to exist in a delicate network of interdependence...We are sisters and brothers of one another whether we like it nor not, and each of us is a precious individual."

~Desmond Tutu

Wingelburt Humptywack, Slap Von Walla, Jerry Dorsey, Engelbert Humperdink

I proudly sat in the audience at UW tonight, watching my Cristieloo steal the opera as Hansel in Hansel and Gretel. If you have not heard and/or seen this opera, do so. At least listen to this thing.

More Life!

When we say we are tired of life, it is death of which we are actually tired.

"Life is so exhausting right now. I need a break."

No, death is exhausting you. You need more life.

"Life is weighing me down!"

No, death is weighing you down.

Those who numb themselves from "life", revert to any form of escapism from "life", or eventually seek death to escape from "life," are escaping to the very thing they are attempting to escape from, which is death.

"Discontent...is the life in us that has not enough of itself, is not enough to itself, so calls for more. He has the victory who, in the midst of pain and weakness, cries out, not for death, not for the repose of forgetfulness, but for strength to fight; for more power, more consciousness of being, more God in him" (MacDonald, Unspoken Sermons, 117).

And in refusing the so-called "repose of forgetfulness," but choosing to fight for life's sake, only then will you and I receive the most fulfilling rest--that of abundant life.

"Home is when I'm alone with you"

When I come to my computer at the end of the day, aspiring to write a nablopomo post, I have a specific process I follow. In determining my topic, I think of the most lovely or significant thought, feeling, or moment on the top of my head or heart that is worthy of sharing in a setting such as blogger.com.

As I sit in front of my computer and scoop up the top layer of my heart, as I would from an excessively foamy late, this is the sentiment I find...

In 4 days, I go home. HOME.

That is all.

My "Aristotle" Poem

L-is for the way you look at me
Ambiturner
Unflappable, and I don't mean it the way fowl mean it
Ride's the tide (bum, bum, bum)
Ask-kicking

Lessons From Trees

"Because a sycamore's primitive bark is not elastic but frangible, it sheds continuously as it grows; seen from a distance, a sycamore seems to grow in pallor and vulnerability as it grows in height; the bare uppermost branches are white against the sky."

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Little Rituals

On the way home from one of my bus stops, I walk up a hill. There is a certain evergreen tree whom I have befriended along this walk, whose elegant arched arms gracefully droop over the sidewalk. Whenever I walk under this tree, I always secretly make sure to let one of its droopy needles gently brush against my face, as if to say 'hello.' This has become a little secret ritual, of which I am rather fond.

When on the verge of implosion...

see a ballet. or listen to Brahms. or both.

case in point.

Characters of Downtown Seattle Part 2

The first time I saw them, I couldn't help but giggle. What a pair they are. Like the sweet hunchback man, they too walk past my work often. The first time I saw them, I could not rip my eyes away from the spectacle. Two older ladies, perhaps in their 60s, one tied to the other's wrist by rope of some sort. The rope was what caught my eye first, the reason for which I quickly discovered by the 4 inch thick glasses (goggles, really) of the lady whose wrist was tied to the other's. She is obviously nearly blind and in need of assistance. The funny thing is that the other lady, who seems to be guiding Goggled Lady, is rather old and uses a walker, which usually has about 6 full grocery bags hanging off of it. The last time I saw them, as they bumbled along at a rather slow pace, Walker Lady's bags were so heavy, her walker completely tumbled over! My first reaction was to run outside to help, but after a few attempts of picking up her walker, she succeeded. They continued to bumble along. I feel a little prick of joy every time I see them.

Aslan is on the move

I am talking to Brianna-boo. She is wildly squeaking about Reep-a-cheep! Nobody knows Reepacheep like BriBee (so she says).

And now she is singing songs from Alice in Wonderland. No, really. I just had a personal 10 minute medley...o wait....it's still going...and...yep, still going.

And now i am going to Fremont Coffee Co. to escape my lonely house, drink myself some coffee, and read about Diamond and North Wind.

15 of those whose written words have influenced my mind and life the most

In no particular order...

1. George MacDonald

2. Charlotte Bronte

3. J.R.R. Tolkien

4. C.S. Lewis

5. The Apostle John

6. Isaiah the prophet

7. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

8. Madeleine L’Engle

9. Dorothy Sayers

10. Victor Hugo

11. L.M. Montegomery

12. A.W. Tozer

13. Henri Nouwen

14. Annie Dillard

15. Elizabeth Elliot

Characters of Downtown Seattle Part 1

The hunchback man walks by my work every single day. Occasionally, I will see him walk by the starbucks I often go to in between my two jobs in downtown, a few blocks away from my store. His severely curved spine bobs up and down as he scampers by, straining his neck to look up and see where he is going. If I met him, I would bend down and kiss him on the cheek.

Sweet Baby Daddy

It's his birthday today and I couldn't be more grateful for his birth, lo those many years ago. I love you Daddy.

"A stone of stumbling and a rock of offense"

I realize that I mention George MacDonald in just about every other blog entry, but it cannot be helped! I am currently reading The Back of the North Wind as well as his Unspoken Sermons. One common theme in his writings is that of Love and the different reactions of Love in hearts of different states of being. For instance, to the soul that has willfully invited Love to dwell within him or her, that person will experience joy and blessedness. For the person that is living in sin, Love is a thing of terror, misery and agony.

"The terror of God is but the other side of his love; it is love outside the house, that would be inside." -MacDonald, The Cause of Spiritual Stupidity

In The Back of the North Wind, the little hero Diamond hears his drunken neighbor abusing his wife and making his baby cry. Diamond, who has been to the back of the North Wind (of which the narrator reminds us rather often), wakes up and quietly creeps into his neighbor's house to comfort the baby. When the drunken neighbor eventually sobers up, he is absorbed with misery. MacDonald writes, "this misery was the voice of the great Love that had made him and his wife and the baby and Diamond, speaking in his heart and telling him to be good. For that Great Love speaks in the most wretched and dirty hearts; only the tone of the voice depends on the echoes of the place in which it sounds. On Mount Sinai, it was thunder; in the soul of St. John it was perfect blessedness."

Praise God for the times when Love echoes within our hearts in tones of stabbing agony. When misery encompasses us, let us be driven to invite Love inside our house, so that His voice may echo in blessed tones.

Rather late than not at all

Since I was a little girl, I have always had this urgent fear of missing out. As a child, I always wanted to do whatever my siblings were doing, be a part of whatever fun they were having with their friends, and stay up as late as I possibly could so as to not miss any potential fun. I remember times when I would come a few minutes late to the dinner table after my family had prayed. Feeling so hurt and distraught that they prayed without me, I made my dad pray again every time. I just couldn't miss out.

And so. I find my entire family (minus the Daddy) is participating in nablopomo. I don't care that I am starting a few days late. I WILL NOT MISS OUT THIS TIME.

And now for a scattered account of nice things that happened today:

As I had the day off, I slept in (glory) and woke up to coveted rays of sunshine pouring into my room. My first thoughts were something like: "oh the possibilities!" After peppermint coffee and scrambled goat cheese/eggs, I proceeded to spend my afternoon productively playing in the mud, that is, planting daffodils. Oh the joy and delight that ensued! This was my first time planting anything! It's just like magic! You dig a hole, place a bulb in it, cover the hole back up, and a living thing springs up out of the ground. How nice to be a catalyst to growth.

The bulbs


The gardener


View of my house from the daffodils



Sitting down on my porch steps with my messy garden hair, muddied jeans, and gardening gloves, I looked out upon the garden in satisfaction. During this particular moment, sissy called. This conversation happened.

My next venture was chocolate chip cookies, during which I talked/not talked with BriBri as Pumpkin Man for two hours on g-chat.

See...




Also, I got some good time with my mom on the phone and another good friend on Skype. I did, as a result of my complete inability to multi-task, burn a batch of cookies, but the rest turned out well. One day they will turn out EXACTLY like my momma's. One day.

I conclude my rather scattered introductory blog post for the month of November....now.