I'm leaving for England in 19 days, and I don't believe it. I don't know if I'll believe it until my feet are squeaking across dingy LAX floors, with my suitcase, far from packed, rolling neatly along behind me. Maybe not even then.
Work is grinding me down in ways I didn't know it could. I fall asleep tired and wake up exhausted. I suppose this is what it feels like to be a five day a week, 9 hour (or more) a day worker. I don't like it. It takes something from me that I can't afford to lose. It takes my belief that creativity and joy are vitally important, that kindnesses will be repaid, that smiling can fix things, that everyone does indeed have time to talk, to enjoy one another. I keep struggling, trying to remind myself that those things are truths worth holding onto. That that is my reality. All the more, though, it seems unimportant. Silliness loses its power in the face of exhaustion, loans, obligations. It all piles up and its all I can do to keep treading water, keep my head high enough to breathe. I hope, desperately, that this isn't reality. I want to deny it, refuse it! I want to fight for something else, even if its only the shadow of a poem, a moment with friends, sunshine. And yet, as my fingernails scrabble for a hold, something, inevitable as gravity, pulls me downward.
Thursday, July 31
Thursday, July 24
Over the highways and thru traffic, to Grandmother's house we go
So I got a speeding ticket last Saturday. Genius! I suppose I've had it coming, being a perpetual leadfoot, but I would have felt better had I been pulled over for actually speeding, not safely traveling faster than the speed limit along with the rest of the freeway. Semantics, I know, but it was kinda unfair and definitely a bummer. Plus it just gives me one more thing to hold against the noble race of highway patrolmen. And before that thought continues I am going to drop it and float on the sea of calm that is my inner Shannon (can you tell that yoga is really kicking in?)
I did get to go kayaking with my Grandpa in Huntington Harbor, a maze of waterways lined with houses, docks and boats moored in the gently lapping water. My nose got red, my shoulders hurt, unaccustomed as they were to paddling, but it was lovely. The water was cool and salty, the air warm. I beached my kayak and swam from dock to dock, feeling the life sliming and crusting its way up the wooden supports. I jump off the bridge spanning the mainland and these manmade islands planted with houses grandiose and quaint, screaming until I am swallowed by the water; beneath the surface my feet sink into cold, bottomless mud. I paused at the top on the outside of the rail, leaning back into its concrete support, and looked down at the water. Nervousness creeps up my throat; the water glints like obsidian in the sun, hard. I jump anyway, without another second to give to my jitters. It's either now or wait until the fear saturates you; no one wants to climb back over the rail and creep, yellow, back to the waters edge.
I did get to go kayaking with my Grandpa in Huntington Harbor, a maze of waterways lined with houses, docks and boats moored in the gently lapping water. My nose got red, my shoulders hurt, unaccustomed as they were to paddling, but it was lovely. The water was cool and salty, the air warm. I beached my kayak and swam from dock to dock, feeling the life sliming and crusting its way up the wooden supports. I jump off the bridge spanning the mainland and these manmade islands planted with houses grandiose and quaint, screaming until I am swallowed by the water; beneath the surface my feet sink into cold, bottomless mud. I paused at the top on the outside of the rail, leaning back into its concrete support, and looked down at the water. Nervousness creeps up my throat; the water glints like obsidian in the sun, hard. I jump anyway, without another second to give to my jitters. It's either now or wait until the fear saturates you; no one wants to climb back over the rail and creep, yellow, back to the waters edge.
Tuesday, July 8
One more day as a nonentity
Time is such a slippery beast - I can never get a hold of it, never wrap my mind around the concept. I want to slow it down, savor it by moments or speed it up, fast-forward to some other segment of my life. It, indifferent to my grasping, paces on; I, meanwhile, limp behind schedule bemoaning my fate, which happens to be universal and not all that bad.
This week constant swim lessons have started taking their toll. Jumping in and out of the pool, pulling out every trick - bribery, teasing, encouragement, threats - I wily coax these kids into swimmers (or at least not drowners). Maybe its the chlorine, but my energy is sapped, and yet I'm restless for something else, too. I'm also browning like a roast and have begun actively fearing skin cancer, which has morphed into some kind of mythological demon that stalks me. Yes, too much time in the pool shouting, "kick-kick-kick-kick" and "paddle! use your big arms!" and "put your face in!" and the ever-pressing "BREATHE!" has addled my brain. Also great.
On a more positive note, I have now become an accomplished "document destroyer," that is, I can shred large amounts of paper by hand. Every day brings new excitement and new challenges - can I rip apart 26 pieces of paper at one time? Bring it on!
Okay, sorry to be whiny, I just want to be exploring someplace, or going somewhere singing at the top of my lungs. And I will be. Maybe I will start that now and see how many people stare at me as if I'm a crazy person, or maybe I will just sing because what else can you do? Like what else can you do but wake up and praise the Lord and greet the sun and begin?
This week constant swim lessons have started taking their toll. Jumping in and out of the pool, pulling out every trick - bribery, teasing, encouragement, threats - I wily coax these kids into swimmers (or at least not drowners). Maybe its the chlorine, but my energy is sapped, and yet I'm restless for something else, too. I'm also browning like a roast and have begun actively fearing skin cancer, which has morphed into some kind of mythological demon that stalks me. Yes, too much time in the pool shouting, "kick-kick-kick-kick" and "paddle! use your big arms!" and "put your face in!" and the ever-pressing "BREATHE!" has addled my brain. Also great.
On a more positive note, I have now become an accomplished "document destroyer," that is, I can shred large amounts of paper by hand. Every day brings new excitement and new challenges - can I rip apart 26 pieces of paper at one time? Bring it on!
Okay, sorry to be whiny, I just want to be exploring someplace, or going somewhere singing at the top of my lungs. And I will be. Maybe I will start that now and see how many people stare at me as if I'm a crazy person, or maybe I will just sing because what else can you do? Like what else can you do but wake up and praise the Lord and greet the sun and begin?
Tuesday, July 1
Amen! Let us begin!
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear close,
and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap for power,
please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear close,
and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap for power,
please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Wendell Berry
Sunday, June 29
Catching Up
I must confess I have gotten out of the habit of posting - but things have been busy! A wonderful week long trip with family and cousins up to the North of California - (try, Big Sur before the fires) with lots of camping in our condo-sized tent, games, hiking, beaches, a train-ride through the coastal redwood forest (big, big trees! and very cool too. they literally suck in the morning fog and then exude the moisture on hot days for their own personal airconditioning. yay for sequoia sempervirons!) We hung out at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk and rode the fourth oldest still running wooden rollercoaster The Big Dipper. We played about four games of Lord of the Rings Risk - the battle for Middle Earth could not have been more intense. We ate a lot. We went to the Monterrey Aquarium. We stayed at LimeKiln state park and wandered the rocky coasts. My cousin Nath undertook a miraculous rescue of his sister's shoes which were swept into the surf during an intense volleyball game (while less motivated people watched said shoes drift out). We climbed some trees, skipped a prodigious amount of rocks (Nath clearly won with upwards of 15! I was impressed). We spent a lot of time just together and even a few days out of cell-phone reception, which was rather horrific for our "attached" girls (my sister Lauren and cousin Moira) who hiked miles in an unfruitful search for reception. Lauren was even more pouty and despondent, but cheered up a bit after using a payphone that was practically a relic. All in all, it was really nice.
Since then I have just been working - swim lessons are picking up and its actually really fun, unless I have to dunk screaming kids or coax crying ones off the wall. However, it is really rewarding to have kids like Gracie who's 3 to go from crying to saying, "me want to go under now!" I am, as always, happy to oblige.
Since then I have just been working - swim lessons are picking up and its actually really fun, unless I have to dunk screaming kids or coax crying ones off the wall. However, it is really rewarding to have kids like Gracie who's 3 to go from crying to saying, "me want to go under now!" I am, as always, happy to oblige.
Thursday, June 5
Sad girl
Her hands;
slender, efficient.
Her smile;
polite, perfunctory.
Her laugh;
timed, cautious, taught.
She is beautiful.
Her eyes caress the uneven ground.
She looks to the sky in her dreams,
and waking, sighs.
slender, efficient.
Her smile;
polite, perfunctory.
Her laugh;
timed, cautious, taught.
She is beautiful.
Her eyes caress the uneven ground.
She looks to the sky in her dreams,
and waking, sighs.
A walk with my sister
Thief stealing twilight
she runs like a dancer along curbs.
From the terraced gardens
a single rose leans over the wall.
I gently tug its thorn-webbed stem downwards,
I steal a breath of rose,
I stare into the turmoil of her petals and see myself.
Sister sees the blackberries ripening!
Easing a berry from its nippled stem,
I taste sunshine wine, darkened by cool nights.
We mourn the fallen berry,
crushed beneath clumsy shoes,
then skip away laughing,
eyes wide as the sky.
We leap over still, posioned water in the concrete river.
We blow the spores of grasses for good luck.
We sprint across deserted intersections,
following the path of star constellations
drawn out in abandoned coins.
she runs like a dancer along curbs.
From the terraced gardens
a single rose leans over the wall.
I gently tug its thorn-webbed stem downwards,
I steal a breath of rose,
I stare into the turmoil of her petals and see myself.
Sister sees the blackberries ripening!
Easing a berry from its nippled stem,
I taste sunshine wine, darkened by cool nights.
We mourn the fallen berry,
crushed beneath clumsy shoes,
then skip away laughing,
eyes wide as the sky.
We leap over still, posioned water in the concrete river.
We blow the spores of grasses for good luck.
We sprint across deserted intersections,
following the path of star constellations
drawn out in abandoned coins.
Friday, May 30
To the people I will never meet
Saw something weird today as I was walking around the building where I work. I kept thinking of the people who laid the foundation, tiled the walkways, stuccoed the sides of the building in arching S-shaped curves. I picture them sweeping their trowels across the canvas of stucco. Who was making art, who was making money? I see them eating lunch in the open courtyard where now they've installed fake carpet grass, and constructed a fake river, and placed little bronze statues at strategic places where children might be playing, reading, napping, exploring. I think of the men whose memories are faded, who maybe don't remember the hours they devoted to this building which houses so many people's livelihoods. How many other invisibles are we indebted to? I wonder who ground this pepper, picked these bananas, molded these noodles, crafted this table that I sit at, sewed my shirt? Who, for that matter, thought of all these things like blogs, email, television, cell phones, computer that I take for granted? It is very strange not to know who these people are. Stranger that I don't think about it most of the time.
Thursday, May 22
Work
Today marks the beginning of my second week as a divorce lawyer's personal assistant. I have to say its pretty ugly. I can tune out most of it - the office is quiet, I typically just answer phones, take messages, make copies, print emails, fax stuff - but as soon as I start reading things, being my nosy self, my heart just aches. How do people live with such anger, bitterness, vindictiveness? It makes me want to never get married, thinking, could that be me? could I become that?
Leaving is like getting out of someone else's nightmare - I can't help thinking of the people I leave behind as soon as I can. Where is the spirit of repentance? Where is reconciliation? Where is God in this hateful mess of suffering kids and wounded people isolating themselves from God, from everyone, from love with their anger? Has anyone ever asked for forgiveness? Has anyone ever stopped keeping score of all the old injustices to seek a new time of peace?
Cari said something the other day that was really profound (big surprise!). She said she wants to live a life towards people, even people that have hurt us, stolen things from us. Even people who haven't been towards us and never want to be. I don't know how to do this, to always be leaning closer to each other in love, but I think that this being towards people has a lot to do with bowing. We bow to recognize God in that other person. We bow to recognize that person's invaluable, incalculable worth. We bow to say, I am your servant, let me wash your feet.
What if we were all living in this mutual love and respect, affirming one another and calling goodness out of each other?
What does it mean for me to live towards God?
I don't know. Lots of questions, few answers. I think I am going to try to be more conscious of this as I move around my little world, "walking softly and bowing often" as Mary Oliver would say.
Leaving is like getting out of someone else's nightmare - I can't help thinking of the people I leave behind as soon as I can. Where is the spirit of repentance? Where is reconciliation? Where is God in this hateful mess of suffering kids and wounded people isolating themselves from God, from everyone, from love with their anger? Has anyone ever asked for forgiveness? Has anyone ever stopped keeping score of all the old injustices to seek a new time of peace?
Cari said something the other day that was really profound (big surprise!). She said she wants to live a life towards people, even people that have hurt us, stolen things from us. Even people who haven't been towards us and never want to be. I don't know how to do this, to always be leaning closer to each other in love, but I think that this being towards people has a lot to do with bowing. We bow to recognize God in that other person. We bow to recognize that person's invaluable, incalculable worth. We bow to say, I am your servant, let me wash your feet.
What if we were all living in this mutual love and respect, affirming one another and calling goodness out of each other?
What does it mean for me to live towards God?
I don't know. Lots of questions, few answers. I think I am going to try to be more conscious of this as I move around my little world, "walking softly and bowing often" as Mary Oliver would say.
so what does the church look like?
last night five people came over to my house to pray.
that is in itself a weird thing, I think in today's world. Who has time on a Wednesday night at 8:30 to come to a crazy girl's house and sit in the "spare 'oom" for the express purpose of praying, of coming to know God? Surely, there must be something better on TV.
Nevertheless, they came, maybe because they are friends and because I called and bullied them all a few hours before to make sure they were coming. Maybe they came because they see that there is something else in this world worth living for and it isn't our culture that tells you how important you are and how happy you will be if you satisfy all these needs. How many hours of our time are we pouring into jobs that do not stretch us, that do not create or nurture good, just so we can buy the next thing to make us interesting/cool/satisfied/beautiful/skinny/happy/
fulfilledf? I can't believe this bullshit anymore.
We read 1 Corinthian's 13-15, the chapters on spiritual gifts, on the church as a body, on love, on speaking in tongues, and on orderly worship. Actually, I just pulled those chapters out of nowhere when we began, and I feared what these people who I loved would say. After all, it is very nice to consider that we are one body and one in christ, but this is not "cool" nor is it "practical." I'm really frustrated by this fear because it inhibits me. Stops the momentum of Christ that surges inside me. Praise God that he is faithful when I am not, when I am a faltering, fearful, cringing, backsliding fool!
I am actually really hopeful for what will happen here. Sure, we chatted a lot, but that in itself is a lovely thing, being neighborly. And as we sat in a circle, holding hands and praying, we sat in silence for a long, long time and it seemed no one wanted to let go.
Please pray for the church in Moorpark. Pray for me that I might be a faithful vessel, light and salt, despite my fearful nature and my propensity to freeze, inactive. Pray that we all might be fruitful wherever we have been planted, even if it is temporary.
Our times are in his hands.
that is in itself a weird thing, I think in today's world. Who has time on a Wednesday night at 8:30 to come to a crazy girl's house and sit in the "spare 'oom" for the express purpose of praying, of coming to know God? Surely, there must be something better on TV.
Nevertheless, they came, maybe because they are friends and because I called and bullied them all a few hours before to make sure they were coming. Maybe they came because they see that there is something else in this world worth living for and it isn't our culture that tells you how important you are and how happy you will be if you satisfy all these needs. How many hours of our time are we pouring into jobs that do not stretch us, that do not create or nurture good, just so we can buy the next thing to make us interesting/cool/satisfied/beautiful/skinny/happy/
fulfilledf? I can't believe this bullshit anymore.
We read 1 Corinthian's 13-15, the chapters on spiritual gifts, on the church as a body, on love, on speaking in tongues, and on orderly worship. Actually, I just pulled those chapters out of nowhere when we began, and I feared what these people who I loved would say. After all, it is very nice to consider that we are one body and one in christ, but this is not "cool" nor is it "practical." I'm really frustrated by this fear because it inhibits me. Stops the momentum of Christ that surges inside me. Praise God that he is faithful when I am not, when I am a faltering, fearful, cringing, backsliding fool!
I am actually really hopeful for what will happen here. Sure, we chatted a lot, but that in itself is a lovely thing, being neighborly. And as we sat in a circle, holding hands and praying, we sat in silence for a long, long time and it seemed no one wanted to let go.
Please pray for the church in Moorpark. Pray for me that I might be a faithful vessel, light and salt, despite my fearful nature and my propensity to freeze, inactive. Pray that we all might be fruitful wherever we have been planted, even if it is temporary.
Our times are in his hands.
Thursday, May 8
Oh friend, I cannot wait to see you!
I just talked to Cari and remembered (how could I forget even a little?) how much I love her. She is lovely and raw and pure and wild! Thoreau would love her.
I am going up to SB tomorrow (yayfortheday!) to go to the monastery and see Joe Bunting, a great friend and a talented musician, play at NorthStar. And in between? My friend from home, Jen, who has been on the best friend list since maybe second grade, when she was the cool kid with hot pink cheetah print rain boots, is coming too. It will be good for her to see where I've been these past two years, where so much of my heart is. We will all go on some adventuring together, Cari and Jen and I, and maybe some time catching up and maybe some just being. I would like that very very much.
For as much as Cari and I are different, we are heart-sisters, and it has been so hard to be away from her a whole semester, while she was up in San Fran. Not to mention I will be abroad next fall in England, which will be amazing minus the fact that I won't be here. Sigh. I guess I shouldn't despair too much and probably not at all.
But I am so excited about tomorrow and the people it will bring! I'm not sure that I can sleep, although I need to get up pretty damn early...
I am going up to SB tomorrow (yayfortheday!) to go to the monastery and see Joe Bunting, a great friend and a talented musician, play at NorthStar. And in between? My friend from home, Jen, who has been on the best friend list since maybe second grade, when she was the cool kid with hot pink cheetah print rain boots, is coming too. It will be good for her to see where I've been these past two years, where so much of my heart is. We will all go on some adventuring together, Cari and Jen and I, and maybe some time catching up and maybe some just being. I would like that very very much.
For as much as Cari and I are different, we are heart-sisters, and it has been so hard to be away from her a whole semester, while she was up in San Fran. Not to mention I will be abroad next fall in England, which will be amazing minus the fact that I won't be here. Sigh. I guess I shouldn't despair too much and probably not at all.
But I am so excited about tomorrow and the people it will bring! I'm not sure that I can sleep, although I need to get up pretty damn early...
Monday, May 5
Why I Wake Early
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety –
best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light –
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Good morning, quiet. The day is ripe with possibility, with unopened moments, and I want to wrestle with each of them, demanding to be blessed. The restlessness fills you like a worry, like a gnawing in your marrow. Will a journey ease it? I sink into each of these moments, each of these long-necked moments and let them embrace me, even as I want to run, run away.
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety –
best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light –
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Good morning, quiet. The day is ripe with possibility, with unopened moments, and I want to wrestle with each of them, demanding to be blessed. The restlessness fills you like a worry, like a gnawing in your marrow. Will a journey ease it? I sink into each of these moments, each of these long-necked moments and let them embrace me, even as I want to run, run away.
Sunday, May 4
Sifting
How is it that one day can last so long?
I woke up pretty early considering I'm still jet-lagged from college-time. My little sister Corinne(she's 12 now) and I walked to Vons to buy scone-making supplies, butter and buttermilk and jam. Then we made some delicious and probably very fattening scones and then we ate them. For a while there it didn't look like Brendan (my 15 year old moody sarcastic bored by life little brother) could wait. He was watching food channel, drooling over nutella sandwiches and fried egg breakfasts, and announcing that he was hungry! Eventually we fed him and the bear subsided for a while.
There seemed to be large expanses of time stretching out endlessly today. I have become accustomed to busyness, so I didn't really know what to do with myself. So I was ridiculously productive - now I am totally unpacked and moved in to the spare room plus I cleaned out all the bathroom drawers and the linen closet. I feel a little freakish, to be honest.
I went to church - I'm Catholic - and for some reason I felt like crying - the heaving, messy, loud sobbing that is just embarrassing. I didn't. I just realized how ruined and how utterly beautiful we all are. And how desperately lonely and how comforted in our isolation. So paradoxical! It hit me sitting there how much God loves all of us, and I got a glimpse, for just a second, what it would be like to see these people as God sees them. Just looking at them filled me with this deep incomprehensible love for them. What would it be like if we could all see that way? What if we loved each other that way, reaching out, inviting, speaking of love straightforward? Someday, someday I will see all of you in the land of the living and everything will be whole.
Now I am just lonely. The family is watching TV again (something I actually am deeply unsettled by but you probably don't want to hear a rant right now) and I am up in my clean room reading and wishing for lovely friends to be with. Get a grip Shannon its been two days! Anyway, pray for me, that I use this time to learn who God is and find myself in his wide, intimate heart, rather than get caught up in loneliness and boredom and despair.
I woke up pretty early considering I'm still jet-lagged from college-time. My little sister Corinne(she's 12 now) and I walked to Vons to buy scone-making supplies, butter and buttermilk and jam. Then we made some delicious and probably very fattening scones and then we ate them. For a while there it didn't look like Brendan (my 15 year old moody sarcastic bored by life little brother) could wait. He was watching food channel, drooling over nutella sandwiches and fried egg breakfasts, and announcing that he was hungry! Eventually we fed him and the bear subsided for a while.
There seemed to be large expanses of time stretching out endlessly today. I have become accustomed to busyness, so I didn't really know what to do with myself. So I was ridiculously productive - now I am totally unpacked and moved in to the spare room plus I cleaned out all the bathroom drawers and the linen closet. I feel a little freakish, to be honest.
I went to church - I'm Catholic - and for some reason I felt like crying - the heaving, messy, loud sobbing that is just embarrassing. I didn't. I just realized how ruined and how utterly beautiful we all are. And how desperately lonely and how comforted in our isolation. So paradoxical! It hit me sitting there how much God loves all of us, and I got a glimpse, for just a second, what it would be like to see these people as God sees them. Just looking at them filled me with this deep incomprehensible love for them. What would it be like if we could all see that way? What if we loved each other that way, reaching out, inviting, speaking of love straightforward? Someday, someday I will see all of you in the land of the living and everything will be whole.
Now I am just lonely. The family is watching TV again (something I actually am deeply unsettled by but you probably don't want to hear a rant right now) and I am up in my clean room reading and wishing for lovely friends to be with. Get a grip Shannon its been two days! Anyway, pray for me, that I use this time to learn who God is and find myself in his wide, intimate heart, rather than get caught up in loneliness and boredom and despair.
THIS EARTH A BOW
Meister Eckhart
You let
Meister Eckhart
You let
my sufferings cease,
for there was no one who could cure them.
Now let my eyes behold your face for you are our only love.
My spirit’s body is rising near – this earth a bow
Now let my eyes behold your face for you are our only love.
My spirit’s body is rising near – this earth a bow
that shot me;
now lift me into your arms as something precious
now lift me into your arms as something precious
that you dropped.
My only suffering, from this day forth,
My only suffering, from this day forth,
will be your divine
beauty,
and you will constantly cure my blessed sight each time
and you will constantly cure my blessed sight each time
you bring your face so near to mine
and call me
bride.
Do not be sad, my old friends; look,
Do not be sad, my old friends; look,
these wings are finally stretched and laughing.
Our souls are rising near to you - this earth a bow that shot us;
now lift me into your arms, dear God,
Our souls are rising near to you - this earth a bow that shot us;
now lift me into your arms, dear God,
like something precious that
you dropped.
Saturday, May 3
Coming Home
I moved out of college yesterday, and seemingly away from the Westmont community, this network of friends that love me so well and so willingly. I miss them all already. It seems very strange that I cannot go next door to see and hug them, talk to them about the God who lives, laugh about nothing, dance and hug some more. We are all fans of interdigitating (that is, hand-holding with interlocking fingers!) In any case, I am very sad, but it is good to be home. I love my family, even as they frustrate me and make me want to run away. This is a season of stopping the busyness that usually defines my life, a time to listen to God, to read, to pray, to write.
Coincidentally, it is time to start a blog. I am always impressed by you people that keep well-run blogs, so now I've optimistically decided to be one of you! Hopefully this will last longer than most new years resolutions =)
Well, I guess I just want to begin with the things that I am thankful for...God has done so much and he just orchestrates this life I lead to be filled with beauty and community and love and joy. Oh praise him all you that breathe!
Thankyou, Lord for this day, for waking up rested and content in you.
Thankyou for my family, for the love they give me, for the time that we will have together this summer.
Thankyou for letting me see my grandparents today! Love them, good hugs, good talks!
Thankyou for the love of my friends, for the joys and sorrows that we have been through together, for the ridiculousness, for the laughs.
Oh Lord thankyou for the gift of your son, that you seek after my heart, that you call me like a lover, that I am made new and beautiful in your word.
Thankyou, oh God, for your faithfulness.
I have no idea where I will be going in the next four months, but there is an incredible peace now. God is moving in my soul, stirring and settling, breathing life and pressing healing hands into all the wounds my own sick sin has made. How can I not sing for the joy of it all?
Coincidentally, it is time to start a blog. I am always impressed by you people that keep well-run blogs, so now I've optimistically decided to be one of you! Hopefully this will last longer than most new years resolutions =)
Well, I guess I just want to begin with the things that I am thankful for...God has done so much and he just orchestrates this life I lead to be filled with beauty and community and love and joy. Oh praise him all you that breathe!
Thankyou, Lord for this day, for waking up rested and content in you.
Thankyou for my family, for the love they give me, for the time that we will have together this summer.
Thankyou for letting me see my grandparents today! Love them, good hugs, good talks!
Thankyou for the love of my friends, for the joys and sorrows that we have been through together, for the ridiculousness, for the laughs.
Oh Lord thankyou for the gift of your son, that you seek after my heart, that you call me like a lover, that I am made new and beautiful in your word.
Thankyou, oh God, for your faithfulness.
I have no idea where I will be going in the next four months, but there is an incredible peace now. God is moving in my soul, stirring and settling, breathing life and pressing healing hands into all the wounds my own sick sin has made. How can I not sing for the joy of it all?
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