He's cute. He laughs at my jokes. He tells neat stories with a charming accent.
He doesn't take my breath away . . . yet.
Still I said yes to a post-coffee date.
We'll see.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Cirque, Cirque
If you've never seen a Cirque Du Soleil performance, run . . . faster, faster . . . to the nearest opportunity to sign up for this EXTREME experience. The colors and costumes are as much a part of the cast as the acrobats, jugglers, comics, singers and musicians. A lizard in the forest is both a reptile and a tree. A sea creature skates across the "water" and ultimately down a "drain." A contortionist with breasts -- large breasts (not something you see on every gymnast) -- mesmerizes with twists and turns not possible for people with actual bones in their bodies.
It's amazing and utterly impossible to describe.
If you're as lucky as me, you'll get to take a friend in order to celebrate their me-ness and in the process have a grand time yourself.
It's amazing and utterly impossible to describe.
If you're as lucky as me, you'll get to take a friend in order to celebrate their me-ness and in the process have a grand time yourself.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
I'd Want HIM for a Daddy
Having lost mine at the age of 10, daddies have always been an alien species to me. So when I encounter father/daughter interactions I study them, mostly marvel at them, and sometimes envy them. Which may explain the compulsion I had to share a excellent story with you from the Real Live Preacher. Read it. I'm fairly sure you'll like it.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Do I or Don't I?
Tomorrow is the deadline for registering for the half marathon this weekend. I could powerwalk the entire thing . . . I think. And still be under the time limit . . . I think. But I haven't yet committed to the task.
Do I or don't I?
Do I or don't I?
Life Happens
Tonight was a glorious night. Not because of any exotic activity. Not because my craving for the experiential edge was somehow quenched. No. It was glorious simply because it was filled with life.
Checking in with many of my folks on the way home . . . yes I talk on the cell while driving but when the ride home is at less than 10 miles per hour due to "rush hour" traffic, I don't feel that guilty about it. (And I've been known to tell whoever I was speaking to that they have to wait between my legs for a few moments while both hands are on the wheel to take care of any nasty turns or situations.) Anyway, checking in helped me to see that while all wasn't well with everyone of them, they knew they were loved.
Arriving home, I met G for a walk/talk that had us acknowledging none of our crew lacked issues, we loved them all, and if left in charge of the world, we could solve practically everything!
We came back home to toast his acceptance into the schooling option of his dreams. At 50+ this is a BIG deal for him. We're pumped. And, yes, WE are pumped. I've already volunteered to help him through speech classes. The bottle we opened was recommended by a wine loving friend of mine. My palate isn't quite "there" yet because the "oaky, grassy, citrus" flavor just tasted like too much alcohol to me.
But I'm ready to learn and this same friend popped in midway through the "Biggest Loser" (I wanted Gary to win because of his personality, his family and his new arms, but alas, it was the other guy) and helped me see why I wasn't quite into the chosen white. She was also here to check out my kitchen. You see we're having a wine/food pairing party next week and she and her chef boyfriend are doing all the wine selections and cooking. So we talked wine for a while, mourned Gary's loss, and then G went on his way to leave R & I to the details. Calls came and went as we discussed my plethora of tableware and lack of knives. And those calls represented sadness and much celebration.
And through it all, life happened. As I sat in my jean shorts and T-shirt at my antique library table, drinking my "good-but-not-great" glass of wine, life happened. And it was good.
Checking in with many of my folks on the way home . . . yes I talk on the cell while driving but when the ride home is at less than 10 miles per hour due to "rush hour" traffic, I don't feel that guilty about it. (And I've been known to tell whoever I was speaking to that they have to wait between my legs for a few moments while both hands are on the wheel to take care of any nasty turns or situations.) Anyway, checking in helped me to see that while all wasn't well with everyone of them, they knew they were loved.
Arriving home, I met G for a walk/talk that had us acknowledging none of our crew lacked issues, we loved them all, and if left in charge of the world, we could solve practically everything!
We came back home to toast his acceptance into the schooling option of his dreams. At 50+ this is a BIG deal for him. We're pumped. And, yes, WE are pumped. I've already volunteered to help him through speech classes. The bottle we opened was recommended by a wine loving friend of mine. My palate isn't quite "there" yet because the "oaky, grassy, citrus" flavor just tasted like too much alcohol to me.
But I'm ready to learn and this same friend popped in midway through the "Biggest Loser" (I wanted Gary to win because of his personality, his family and his new arms, but alas, it was the other guy) and helped me see why I wasn't quite into the chosen white. She was also here to check out my kitchen. You see we're having a wine/food pairing party next week and she and her chef boyfriend are doing all the wine selections and cooking. So we talked wine for a while, mourned Gary's loss, and then G went on his way to leave R & I to the details. Calls came and went as we discussed my plethora of tableware and lack of knives. And those calls represented sadness and much celebration.
And through it all, life happened. As I sat in my jean shorts and T-shirt at my antique library table, drinking my "good-but-not-great" glass of wine, life happened. And it was good.
Happy! Happy!
[glee dance . . . oh glee, oh glee] At the Y last night I completed the entire abs routine save for about 30 seconds when I was clueless as to what the instructor wanted and couldn't find her in the sea of straining bodies and blue mats and a Body Pump class that has you pumping iron to the music for about an hour. All of these activities, mind you, were first times for me, and my 43-year-old body served me well!!!!
(Even I'm amazed sometimes as to what puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step.)
(Even I'm amazed sometimes as to what puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step.)
Monday, January 10, 2005
On a Happy Note
Having just blogged a couple of heavies . . . I'd like to now take the time to say to my sister and her new hubby, welcome to the world of the Internet! They just got a new computer and plan on checking my little corner of the world out when they finally hook up to DSL.
This coincides with my realization yesterday that while I had initially embraced the newest member of our family for the sake of my sister, I no longer love him just because she does -- something I was willing to do but always with eyes open, ready to protect her if need be. I now love MY brother-in-law because he's MY brother-in-law and because he's a great guy and watching out for her is obviously something he was meant to do.
This coincides with my realization yesterday that while I had initially embraced the newest member of our family for the sake of my sister, I no longer love him just because she does -- something I was willing to do but always with eyes open, ready to protect her if need be. I now love MY brother-in-law because he's MY brother-in-law and because he's a great guy and watching out for her is obviously something he was meant to do.
Interpreting Intervention
On Saturday I saw a woman at the local YMCA who, if seen on a television infomercial would have prompted people to give so that she might live, that she might eat, that she might find nourishment and health. She was THAT thin. She may have been 10 or more years older than me but it was really hard to tell. She moved with a zombie-like gait from weight machine to weight machine and I almost thought I'd see her catapulted across the room when she began to work with the bands and ropes.
On Sunday I had a chat with my sister about a mutual friend who was battling depression and we felt helpless to help. I also watched a Real World episode with a girlfriend where one of the residents of this "real" house was obviously "really" battling alcohol.
With each instance I wondered about intervention. When is it ok for someone at the Y to say, "Enough! M'am, you need to walk away from this machine and let us talk to you about the other side of health . . . eating."? How do you stop a friend's spiral when you know you don't have the tools and that any suggestions will probably just add you to the list of those with whom ties have already been broken? Can television producers be held accountable for stepping in when one of their "real" characters is in real trouble?
Relationships take guts. I sometimes wonder if I have the intestinal fortitude to live life in community.
On Sunday I had a chat with my sister about a mutual friend who was battling depression and we felt helpless to help. I also watched a Real World episode with a girlfriend where one of the residents of this "real" house was obviously "really" battling alcohol.
With each instance I wondered about intervention. When is it ok for someone at the Y to say, "Enough! M'am, you need to walk away from this machine and let us talk to you about the other side of health . . . eating."? How do you stop a friend's spiral when you know you don't have the tools and that any suggestions will probably just add you to the list of those with whom ties have already been broken? Can television producers be held accountable for stepping in when one of their "real" characters is in real trouble?
Relationships take guts. I sometimes wonder if I have the intestinal fortitude to live life in community.
Silent Sins
Yesterday one of my pastors spoke of "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." The "good" consisted of how the church had guided him and helped him to find his purpose. The "bad" surveyed history for the times when organized religion missed the mark to such a tragic extent that lives were lost for nothing more than the sake of ignorance -- the Crusades, slavery in the U.S. were the two specifics he offered. The "ugly" was his concern for what believers today are doing with equal amounts of conviction that in years to come we may look back upon and cringe with shame. He didn't name specifics here.
When I filled in my own blanks, I, of course, thought of that which I have seen from experience . . . the way parts of the church have made homosexuality a litmus test for moral purity and in some sense true "Christianity," the unspoken yet still felt cries of "unclean" whenever you mention that you work with people with AIDS, and how it sometimes feels that the woman caught in adultery, lying in the dirt, surrounded by accusers who think themselves so much better is still a metaphor for the way some view women as church leaders.
I acknowledge that this is MY list from MY perspective. And had we taken the time to consider as a group what the blanks look like as filled in by others . . . well, debate rather than worship would have probably ensued.
I combine this with another experience with another of my pastors later that evening. We were speaking of a mental giant that is coming our way to share thoughts on diversity and we both agreed that while this passionate observer of faithwalkers has much to say regarding homosexuality as well, that this should not be a topic that is explored in his brief time with this particular congregation. "This church isn't ready for that conversation," he said and I agreed.
I agreed as a professional communicator who understands that you can't force people to see a truth and that for the most part turning hearts and minds takes time, much time. As a communicator, I agreed that we couldn't turn a worship service into discourse. I agreed, as a communicator, that even the few moderate congregations with whom I'm attached aren't ready to embrace homosexuals as fellow pilgrims. But as an advocate, my heart breaks. I choke on my silence.
(For an interesting piece on the sins of silence as it relates to AIDS, check out Leonard Pitts' column for today.)
When I filled in my own blanks, I, of course, thought of that which I have seen from experience . . . the way parts of the church have made homosexuality a litmus test for moral purity and in some sense true "Christianity," the unspoken yet still felt cries of "unclean" whenever you mention that you work with people with AIDS, and how it sometimes feels that the woman caught in adultery, lying in the dirt, surrounded by accusers who think themselves so much better is still a metaphor for the way some view women as church leaders.
I acknowledge that this is MY list from MY perspective. And had we taken the time to consider as a group what the blanks look like as filled in by others . . . well, debate rather than worship would have probably ensued.
I combine this with another experience with another of my pastors later that evening. We were speaking of a mental giant that is coming our way to share thoughts on diversity and we both agreed that while this passionate observer of faithwalkers has much to say regarding homosexuality as well, that this should not be a topic that is explored in his brief time with this particular congregation. "This church isn't ready for that conversation," he said and I agreed.
I agreed as a professional communicator who understands that you can't force people to see a truth and that for the most part turning hearts and minds takes time, much time. As a communicator, I agreed that we couldn't turn a worship service into discourse. I agreed, as a communicator, that even the few moderate congregations with whom I'm attached aren't ready to embrace homosexuals as fellow pilgrims. But as an advocate, my heart breaks. I choke on my silence.
(For an interesting piece on the sins of silence as it relates to AIDS, check out Leonard Pitts' column for today.)
Friday, January 07, 2005
Applause & Gratitude
Much thanks to the divine Miss Em at Giggling Universe who walked me through the task of linking to some of my favorite bloggers . . . scroll along the righthand side of the page and you'll see what I mean. I give a little background on each as you make your way through the list. Happy blogging/lurking/reading/commenting or whatever!
Holy Ghost Etiquette?
Most folks who read this know I work for an organization that deals with church life. My role is primarily telling stories about what other people are doing . . . how God is at work in their lives or the life of a congregation. I deal with after-the-fact stories for the most part and am usually just capturing the words of a firsthand account.
Sometimes, though, the spiritual realm crosses my threshold.
Yesterday that happened.
I was in my office chatting with a friend/pastor when I realized the usual office buzz in the background was growing in its buzz-iness and was less and less in the background. Moments later the cacophony had risen to such a pitch that it was a presence in the room that I felt had to be acknowledged. I paused our conversation and listened.
We couldn't hear the words, just the layers of voices, the swelling outcries, the near chanting sing-song nature of what I soon determined were prayers. As it grew louder, I found that I couldn't continue my conversation. I was giggling.
I almost wrote "laughing" but that wasn't it. I was giggling. Something akin to the yes-I'm-a-little-girl-and-I-just-caught-the-grown-ups-doing-something -only-grownups-do kind of giggle.
Soon enough the sounds died down, we did hear a booming voice declare, "Amen!" and it was echoed all around by the other folks in the closed door office and they began making gathering-up-your-things-to-leave-noises.
This coincided with my having to leave my space to make some copies and of course, my path intercepted a couple of theirs.
Which led me to a series of questions . . . what does one say to someone who has just invited and evidently received a visit from the Holy Spirit when you were not party to the party? Do you make eye contact and acknowledge that something very personal was also very public? Or do you simply make a mad dash for the copier and focus on the paper in your hands as though it were written in an unintelligible code that you must decipher?
What is Holy Ghost etiquette?
Sometimes, though, the spiritual realm crosses my threshold.
Yesterday that happened.
I was in my office chatting with a friend/pastor when I realized the usual office buzz in the background was growing in its buzz-iness and was less and less in the background. Moments later the cacophony had risen to such a pitch that it was a presence in the room that I felt had to be acknowledged. I paused our conversation and listened.
We couldn't hear the words, just the layers of voices, the swelling outcries, the near chanting sing-song nature of what I soon determined were prayers. As it grew louder, I found that I couldn't continue my conversation. I was giggling.
I almost wrote "laughing" but that wasn't it. I was giggling. Something akin to the yes-I'm-a-little-girl-and-I-just-caught-the-grown-ups-doing-something -only-grownups-do kind of giggle.
Soon enough the sounds died down, we did hear a booming voice declare, "Amen!" and it was echoed all around by the other folks in the closed door office and they began making gathering-up-your-things-to-leave-noises.
This coincided with my having to leave my space to make some copies and of course, my path intercepted a couple of theirs.
Which led me to a series of questions . . . what does one say to someone who has just invited and evidently received a visit from the Holy Spirit when you were not party to the party? Do you make eye contact and acknowledge that something very personal was also very public? Or do you simply make a mad dash for the copier and focus on the paper in your hands as though it were written in an unintelligible code that you must decipher?
What is Holy Ghost etiquette?
Thursday, January 06, 2005
A Jewish Teaching Story
Truth, naked and cold, had been turned away from every door in the village. Her nakedness frightened the people. When Parable found her, she was huddled in a corner, shivering and hungry. Taking pity on her, Parable gathered her up and took her home. There, she dressed Truth in story, warmed her and sent her out again. Clothed in story, Truth knocked again at the villagers' doors and was readily welcomed into the people's houses. They invited her to eat at their table and warm herself by their fire.
-- from Experiential Storytelling by Mark Miller
-- from Experiential Storytelling by Mark Miller
Do you ever . . . ?
Do you ever catch a glimpse of your reflection in a window and think, "Looking pretty good today!" and then a few minutes later walk past a mirror and think, "Yuck, what happened in the last five minutes to make me gain that much weight?" Sometimes it feels like I NEVER see the same reflection . . . leading me to believe that indeed, I have absolutely no idea what I really look like. Some of you must be familiar with that whole growing-up-as-a-fat-girl-so-I-can't-imagine-a-thin-me-even-when-the-scale-and-the-mirror-says-otherwise thing that happens to people. I have that!
Another thing . . .
Do you ever get comments on what you're wearing -- nice comments -- and realize that every time you wear that particular thing people say nice things about that particular thing? I am currently wearing a multi-colored sweater that I know makes me look boxy but never fails to garner praise fot its own self. This always leads me to believe that it is true . . . sometimes you wear clothes and sometimes your clothes wear you.
Another thing . . .
Do you ever get comments on what you're wearing -- nice comments -- and realize that every time you wear that particular thing people say nice things about that particular thing? I am currently wearing a multi-colored sweater that I know makes me look boxy but never fails to garner praise fot its own self. This always leads me to believe that it is true . . . sometimes you wear clothes and sometimes your clothes wear you.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
One Question at a Time: #4, 5 & 6
What quote do you want the next few years to look like?
This was easy. My favorite and "life quote" comes from a Mary Oliver poem that I've shared here before. It says, "When it's over, I want to say: all my life/I was a bride married to amazement./I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. . . "
But in 2005 it would be cool to realize this one by Alexander Smith (she said with a smile), "Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others and the delight in the recognition."
What's one thing you've done that you wish you could un-do?
Oh, that's a tangled one. There would be some who would suggest I look at my current marital state and beg forgiveness for that one. But in fact, I value the things I learned from that journey. Others might point me in the direction of some social OOPS I've managed to pull off, but again, I'm not inclined to look there. I guess . . . if it's not THE one, it's definitely on a list . . . I wish I hadn't let the ties between my twin and me become so loose that I often feel disconnected from him.
What's one thing you've not done that you still have on your wish list? Yea verily the list goes on and on. This year I'm determined to see Yosemite. I want to travel in the coming decade to as many exotic locales as my stubby little legs and iron stomach will allow. I want to have a long, mesmerizing conversation with a man who stirs everything within me and feel totally confident about myself as I'm having it. I want to write something that makes people FEEL . . . and something that makes them ACT. That's a few on the current list!
This was easy. My favorite and "life quote" comes from a Mary Oliver poem that I've shared here before. It says, "When it's over, I want to say: all my life/I was a bride married to amazement./I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. . . "
But in 2005 it would be cool to realize this one by Alexander Smith (she said with a smile), "Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others and the delight in the recognition."
What's one thing you've done that you wish you could un-do?
Oh, that's a tangled one. There would be some who would suggest I look at my current marital state and beg forgiveness for that one. But in fact, I value the things I learned from that journey. Others might point me in the direction of some social OOPS I've managed to pull off, but again, I'm not inclined to look there. I guess . . . if it's not THE one, it's definitely on a list . . . I wish I hadn't let the ties between my twin and me become so loose that I often feel disconnected from him.
What's one thing you've not done that you still have on your wish list? Yea verily the list goes on and on. This year I'm determined to see Yosemite. I want to travel in the coming decade to as many exotic locales as my stubby little legs and iron stomach will allow. I want to have a long, mesmerizing conversation with a man who stirs everything within me and feel totally confident about myself as I'm having it. I want to write something that makes people FEEL . . . and something that makes them ACT. That's a few on the current list!
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Irony Roasting on an Open Fire
Disclaimer: This is not a political jibe. . . . It's a media jibe.
I'm watching the Today show this morning while reading the paper. The Houston Chronicle has just told me that current President Bush has enlisted the help of former Presidents Bush and Clinton to raise money for the tsunami victims when lo and behold elder George appears on my television screen. I've got the sound down so I don't hear what he has to say about the efforts (and moving slightly away from my disclaimer, why President Carter who has not been a particular fan of either Bush wasn't also asked to perform this humanitarian function) but I do note that he's in Houston. The screen points this out in 18 pt. type at least. Why would that be amazing or amusing? Because behind said speaker is a roaring fire.
This item followed the weatherman announcing that Houston may reach near record-setting temperatures today . . . 78 degrees.
"Put another log on the fire, honey, we've got compassion to project."
I'm watching the Today show this morning while reading the paper. The Houston Chronicle has just told me that current President Bush has enlisted the help of former Presidents Bush and Clinton to raise money for the tsunami victims when lo and behold elder George appears on my television screen. I've got the sound down so I don't hear what he has to say about the efforts (and moving slightly away from my disclaimer, why President Carter who has not been a particular fan of either Bush wasn't also asked to perform this humanitarian function) but I do note that he's in Houston. The screen points this out in 18 pt. type at least. Why would that be amazing or amusing? Because behind said speaker is a roaring fire.
This item followed the weatherman announcing that Houston may reach near record-setting temperatures today . . . 78 degrees.
"Put another log on the fire, honey, we've got compassion to project."
Monday, January 03, 2005
One Question at a Time: #3
What quote (from book, music, movie, etc.) would sum up the last few years of your life?
"No matter where you go, there you are." -- Buckaroo Bonzai and the Eighth Dimension
"No matter where you go, there you are." -- Buckaroo Bonzai and the Eighth Dimension
One Question at a Time: #2
What's the book, music (in whatever form you choose) or movie you'd want to have with you should you ever wind up on that infamous deserted island?
I'd want to take an anthology of poetry. My grandmother gave me one when I was a child that I wished I still had today. I like the idea of an anthology because no one poet would offer enough diversity for me. But a collection from many writers . . . it would be like having a different conversation every day. And when I re-read a poem I know I'd have the exact same sense I have when re-reading now . . . almost as if I've never read it before because in the moment something new strikes me.
I'd want to take an anthology of poetry. My grandmother gave me one when I was a child that I wished I still had today. I like the idea of an anthology because no one poet would offer enough diversity for me. But a collection from many writers . . . it would be like having a different conversation every day. And when I re-read a poem I know I'd have the exact same sense I have when re-reading now . . . almost as if I've never read it before because in the moment something new strikes me.
One Question at a Time: #1
I listed lots of questions. Now I'm going to attempt to answer a few. Here's the first from the list.
If you could change one thing about the world, yourself, or both, what would it/they be?
The thing that comes to mind in this moment is . . . I'd like to change the way people seem to make assumptions without enough or even any information. People assume motives. People assume rationales. People assume . . . unfortunately and often . . . the worst. If we could see each other with new eyes, more compassionate eyes, eyes filled with grace, then I think the world could be a happier place to be.
And if I'm allowed a totally sci-fi kind of answer (and I am because it's my blog), then I would wish we could see the beauty within as easily as we see the beauty outside . . . maybe even instead.
If you could change one thing about the world, yourself, or both, what would it/they be?
The thing that comes to mind in this moment is . . . I'd like to change the way people seem to make assumptions without enough or even any information. People assume motives. People assume rationales. People assume . . . unfortunately and often . . . the worst. If we could see each other with new eyes, more compassionate eyes, eyes filled with grace, then I think the world could be a happier place to be.
And if I'm allowed a totally sci-fi kind of answer (and I am because it's my blog), then I would wish we could see the beauty within as easily as we see the beauty outside . . . maybe even instead.
I Kissed a Couple of Strangers
They stood beside us as the countdown continued
I didn't know their names
But I knew they shared a friendship
And we shared some of the same secrets
So 3-2-1
I turned first to my companions
One for each cheek
And then
I kissed a couple of strangers.
Happy New Year!
I didn't know their names
But I knew they shared a friendship
And we shared some of the same secrets
So 3-2-1
I turned first to my companions
One for each cheek
And then
I kissed a couple of strangers.
Happy New Year!
My Wish for You
If you have never had one of those times where you say to yourself, "Remember this. This point in time is special, unique, and you will cherish the memory for years to come" then that is my wish for you in 2005 -- not just the moment but the realization of its power while you're still in that moment.
If you have, I wish more for you in this new year.
My impetus for this wish came over the weekend, sitting on a friend's couch, watching my first-ever-viewed-in-its-entirety-televised-Bowl-game, laughing hysterically at one woman's remembered cheers, munching on made-with-love dumplings and beans, and knowing that this was the kind of experience that can't be planned . . . they happen only when love abounds.
If you have, I wish more for you in this new year.
My impetus for this wish came over the weekend, sitting on a friend's couch, watching my first-ever-viewed-in-its-entirety-televised-Bowl-game, laughing hysterically at one woman's remembered cheers, munching on made-with-love dumplings and beans, and knowing that this was the kind of experience that can't be planned . . . they happen only when love abounds.
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