It has been quite a year, and I am very proud of my sons. They were never taught the things they should know to be self-sufficient, and I have been spending a lot of energy teaching them. It takes more time, patience, and a willingness to accept things not exactly correct to have them learn how to do laundry, cook, clean house, shop.
They are growing very quickly.
It has been my custom to go to each of them at bedtime, tuck them in, sit beside them, talk over their day, pray over, bless them.
Isaac has asked me to stop.
When pressed, he said it was because he felt he was getting too old for it.
Jeremiah looked anxious.
"I can still come pray with you each night if you want, Jeremiah."
"OK!" He was relieved. Jeremiah will always want that from me.
The sleeping trouble has gotten worse the last few days. Last night was only three hours.
But it will be OK. A part of me is irritated at my ex... running through imaginary conversations with her...
"At least I didn't abandon my family," my imaginary self says to her.
"I didn't abandon my family!" she snaps back. "I am willing to help any time you want, just call!"
"Yes, you did abandon us. You abandoned your family the moment you abandoned your vows."
I always sound so rational, poised, calm, and wise in these imaginary scenarios.
The irritation I am feeling lately toward her is normal. I will work through it. I recognize the stages. But I think it is why I am having trouble sleeping.
Life sucks, and life is wonderful.
Brenda felt life is unfairly painful.
It's a common thought.
If God is omniscient and omnipotent why doesn't HE DO SOMETHING!!!
Let's unpack that a little.
Omniscient and omnipotent doesn't mean He can do everything. There are many things God cannot do.
He cannot cease being who He is. He cannot do evil (if He can, He isn't the God I know). He cannot cease loving.
We believe He is love. We believe He is love because we sense love is the best of who we are. When we fully love, fully care for others, we feel... different. Different from... the least of what we can be (selfish, self centered, eager to pull all the toys into a big pile and sit on it).
Moses asked God if he could look at Him, the Lord basically told him he couldn't handle it.
The interchange between Moses and the Lord gives us the sense that God is so much more than we can handle... there is the suggestion that all Moses could be permitted to see was the goodness of God as He passed from view because anything more and the patriarch would have vanished under the intense glare of majesty.
Even that was so intense Moses' face glowed for years afterwards.
I think there are other things God cannot do. I think He cannot help but love, that He is the source of the emotion we call love... the pale moody thing we call love is just a fleshly, mortal echo of true love.
I think love is about caring. I think love is about reaching out with our hearts toward another, and that if God has a need, it is the need to have someone to care for... someone to express love to.
He requires sharing and caring and loving so much that He is a community unto Himself, themself. A trinity of divine love.
And that wasn't enough for Him. He needed to express love further, so He created powerful spiritual, eternal entities, angels, so He might love them, and they could learn to love as well.
And still He wanted to love more. So He created us.
What a wonder that is. He created beings capable of not loving so His love could extend past reciprocal angelic love. He could love even creatures who had trouble loving back.
He created creatures free to choose. We often decide that we want what we want when we want it, and we can forgo the whole caring thing altogether if we choose.
We can abandon our values, our morals, our desire to emulate Him. We can abandon our families and our vows.
We can hurt each other.
It is my suspicion that the mind is much greater than the brain. I suspect that the brain constrains us. I conjecture that Jeremiah is mentally much, much more, if only the frailty of his physical brain did not force him to relate to this world with such restraints.
I suspect that there are other things about us that are larger than what our bodies can contain or express. I guess our spirits are larger, more than four dimensions, and we act the way we do because we get so caught up in the weaknesses of flesh, of being mortal.
I suspect God wanted to love us so much, wanted to hold us so close, that He took our form just to create a bridge of understanding between He and us so we might see a path of love leading to Him.
I've heard people liken the incarnation of God to one of us becoming an ant, to live among ants when we know so much more.
Imagine what that might be like.
Imagine a person, a great person of intellect and grace and beauty, stepping into the form of an ant. Imagine someone with the traits that are the best of us, a mixture of the best of Abraham Lincoln, Emily Dickenson, Albert Einstein, Mother Theresa, Mahatma Gandhi, Winston Churchill... becoming an ant.
Probably wouldn't fit in well in ant society. Their social structures of work and duty would leave very little room for philosophy or imagination or grace or poetry.
I suppose if such a person were an ant, it would probably end badly. Ants would not understand. The insectified person would probably write a poem on the wall of their tunnels, or tell the other ants to pause in their labors and to take a moment to enjoy the blueness of the sky, observe the floating clouds, pause and search their antish hearts for things that might lift them up, out, and beyond their labor-filled lives.
And they would kill him.
The world isn't a very nice place. People hurt and are hurt. Some take delight in inflicting pain on others. Too many children are hurt too often. Too many wives are beaten. Too many egomaniacs inflict suffering on those in their control.
But such pain comes from the freedom we have been given... the freedom to be selfish. It's a characteristic that makes us less loveable (yet He does).
I know God does reach into the world and write poetry on the tunnels of our lives. I've seen it. But more than that, much more than that, He is always there to draw near, to breathe on us, to hold us, let His love flow over and through us.
As much as He can, for we are very busy screaming about what we want and when we want it, too much so to hear Him whispering reassuring kindness into our hearts.
I suppose if I listened for Him more instead of running selfish imaginary narratives through my mind I might sleep a little better.
Isaac doesn't want me to come up and tuck him in, pray over him. I've told him I will still pray for him each night, but I will do it from my own bed.
Isaac is pulling away a little, a healthy thing, the very thing I have been working on when I have taught him how to sew, or do laundry, or iron clothes, or cook meals.
There is a part of me that feels a twinge of sadness at it. I want him to want me.
But... giving him freedom to make his own choices is part of what a parent who loves his child does.
Post Script: I was just sitting here on the couch, proof reading this post, when Isaac poked his head into the living room to say good night. He impulsively ran over to the couch, snuggled up to me, hugged me, and asked me to pray for him. I pressed my face into his dreadlocks and whispered a prayer and a blessing. He wiggled happily.
Life is wonderful.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Testing...
-- Post From My iPhone
This just a test. I have a new phone and I am wondering if I will be able to blog with it.
I can see it will a little tedious, tapping out a letter at a time.
It might be easier to write it by hand & post the photo.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Changes
I paused in my lessons today to have students watch our new president be sworn in to office.
We listened to the announcements. We listened to the music. We listened to Rick Warren praying. Unembarrassed I bent my head during that prayer, and whispered along with him as he recited The Lord's Prayer.
I pointed out to my students how the way our nation makes this transition of power is so unique in the world. I shared how the change of power in many countries is accompanied with violence, fear. But in our country, we do not hear rancor from former opponents, but we hear support for the elected. The People have voted, the People have spoken, it is a done thing. We move on.
There are many things that are not right about our nation. But there are so many things that are so very right. I am so proud to be a citizen of the United States of America. I love my country almost as much as I love my God.
I'm a sentimental sort. I feel things deeply, and I'm not ashamed I shed a few tears during this historical moment today.
When it was done, before the students from another class left to return to their own classrooms, I stepped in front of these middle schoolers...
"When I was in 6th grade, the same age as you, I sat in my living room on a July day and watched Neil Armstrong step onto the surface of the moon. It was history in the making, a day I knew I would remember.
"You have just witnessed a historic event. This should be something you commit to memory. Regardless of what this presidency brings, regardless of what happens, our nation has just see the first African American swear to execute the duties of this highest of offices.
"You have just heard him speak about the challenges we face, and what we need do as individuals. If it was unclear to you, perhaps you can listen to it again later, but, to put in just a few words what he was calling us to do... President Obama is calling us to live lives of integrity."
I want to live a life of integrity. I try. Sometimes it means tough choices, but usually it is an easy thing, just do the next right thing.
Brenda took the boys for the day yesterday. I had a day off. A little holiday. I went to various stores, looked at cell phones. I want something I can use that is more dependable than the disposable one I use, and something that will allow me to blog from Thailand.
In the afternoon, as she was leaving, we spoke.
I feel for her. She is filled with regret. She is obviously depressed.
A large part of me, of my heart, loves her despite the hurt she has given me. Because of that love I wish I could help.
She admits her failings, but isn't seeking to change, to draw closer to God, to live a life of integrity. I'm not sure how she will ever be able to fully embrace monogamy in any relationship in her future.
But... it isn't my problem. I love her, I do. I cannot help her any longer.
I gave out a couple of lunch detentions today. Nothing of great import, just the normal disciplining I do to help my charges learn to work well with rules, authority, the functioning of things greater than themselves.
So, from watching the transition of power in our nation, to accepting that my former spouse
is beyond my help, to teaching the children of my neighbors, there is an underlying approach. Integrity. Do the right thing.
I am far from achieving that wholly. But I am trying, and that means changing. Change is always difficult.
I love my life. It is one filled with blessings.
Even the hard stuff. Even the death of a child, a spouse' infidelity, the dialing back of parental expectations... I am living a life overflowing with blessings.
When I shuffle off this mortal coil, this flesh which encloses, traps, my spirit, I will be privileged to have been given a life where I can learn so much.
We listened to the announcements. We listened to the music. We listened to Rick Warren praying. Unembarrassed I bent my head during that prayer, and whispered along with him as he recited The Lord's Prayer.
I pointed out to my students how the way our nation makes this transition of power is so unique in the world. I shared how the change of power in many countries is accompanied with violence, fear. But in our country, we do not hear rancor from former opponents, but we hear support for the elected. The People have voted, the People have spoken, it is a done thing. We move on.
There are many things that are not right about our nation. But there are so many things that are so very right. I am so proud to be a citizen of the United States of America. I love my country almost as much as I love my God.
I'm a sentimental sort. I feel things deeply, and I'm not ashamed I shed a few tears during this historical moment today.
When it was done, before the students from another class left to return to their own classrooms, I stepped in front of these middle schoolers...
"When I was in 6th grade, the same age as you, I sat in my living room on a July day and watched Neil Armstrong step onto the surface of the moon. It was history in the making, a day I knew I would remember.
"You have just witnessed a historic event. This should be something you commit to memory. Regardless of what this presidency brings, regardless of what happens, our nation has just see the first African American swear to execute the duties of this highest of offices.
"You have just heard him speak about the challenges we face, and what we need do as individuals. If it was unclear to you, perhaps you can listen to it again later, but, to put in just a few words what he was calling us to do... President Obama is calling us to live lives of integrity."
I want to live a life of integrity. I try. Sometimes it means tough choices, but usually it is an easy thing, just do the next right thing.
Brenda took the boys for the day yesterday. I had a day off. A little holiday. I went to various stores, looked at cell phones. I want something I can use that is more dependable than the disposable one I use, and something that will allow me to blog from Thailand.
In the afternoon, as she was leaving, we spoke.
I feel for her. She is filled with regret. She is obviously depressed.
A large part of me, of my heart, loves her despite the hurt she has given me. Because of that love I wish I could help.
She admits her failings, but isn't seeking to change, to draw closer to God, to live a life of integrity. I'm not sure how she will ever be able to fully embrace monogamy in any relationship in her future.
But... it isn't my problem. I love her, I do. I cannot help her any longer.
I gave out a couple of lunch detentions today. Nothing of great import, just the normal disciplining I do to help my charges learn to work well with rules, authority, the functioning of things greater than themselves.
So, from watching the transition of power in our nation, to accepting that my former spouse
is beyond my help, to teaching the children of my neighbors, there is an underlying approach. Integrity. Do the right thing.
I am far from achieving that wholly. But I am trying, and that means changing. Change is always difficult.
I love my life. It is one filled with blessings.
Even the hard stuff. Even the death of a child, a spouse' infidelity, the dialing back of parental expectations... I am living a life overflowing with blessings.
When I shuffle off this mortal coil, this flesh which encloses, traps, my spirit, I will be privileged to have been given a life where I can learn so much.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Jotting Down Some Thoughts
By June.
By June Jeremiah must be in a group home. Isaac graduates. I’m going to Thailand.
Hepatitis A Recommended for all travelers
Hepatitis B Recommended for all travelers
Typhoid those who eat or drink outside major restaurants
Japanese encephalitis For long-term (>1 month) travelers to rural areas or travelers who may engage in extensive unprotected outdoor activities in rural areas, especially after dusk
Measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) Two doses recommended for all travelers born after 1956, if not previously given
Tetanus-diphtheria Revaccination recommended every 10 years
All travelers should visit either their personal physician or a travel health clinic 4-8 weeks before departure.
OK... that takes care of getting the list together... There you go, Doc.
June.
I’ve done a lot of moaning these last few years. Sorry. Hit a tough spot there and I got bummed, and I... I got hurt.
There was a refusal on my part to give up on my marriage. That made it worse.
I’m starting to see how completely twisted my life had become. I’m starting to see that though this really hurt, I am really, truly, verifiably, blessed.
There’s a lot behind that statement.
Financial blessings. This refinance is going to save me a ton of money ($200 a month in my pocket, everything paid, in 15 years, not the 30, and that second mortgage had a balloon on it). Dealt with. Done.
My children and I have grown closer, and they have learned so much these last few weeks, the last couple of months... They are on their way to being able to care for themselves. And Isaac will have to. In June.
Faith. What is this that has been happening to me these last few years? How can my faith start to become so important to me? Was this a partial cause for the failure of the marriage? Did we grow in different directions, spiritually? And what is this? So often I feel, I really feel, God’s eyes upon me. Deliciously terrifying.
Freedom. This is so far from just a few weeks ago.
There were so many things which tied us together. Some were real. Some were lies. Companionship. Conversation. A habit of spooning...
That was hard at first. The empty bed. The largeness of this California king size. It is fading.
I see what I have been doing, and I understand. I think. I have gotten good at seeing what I want to see... little hard to double check all assumptions.
I was panicked over being unmarried, alone.
June.
Lately I have been thinking about being me... I’m pretty lucky. Really. I have an excellent job. My home will be paid off about the time I retire.
I've been alone before. In the last half of the 70s I hitchhiked and hiked all over the west side of North America. Just me. Well, one trip I had a dog.
I've been celibate. I lived in that ashram for almost two years.
I don’t know what God has in mind... but I am open to just about any idea. I don’t need another person in my life, He is all I really need. But, if I found someone who shared the same passions, and interests, and there was a real partnership in it... but I could just as easily take after Paul.
That’s another idea rolling around my head. Some see God as someone who is pulling all the strings, and for good or bad, He is in charge of every detail.
Others sing out that God could just be watching, and we are on our own, and that scares us. We want Him more involved than that. They say this about how we conduct ourselves. Free will. Provide us choices, and a responsibility that we are responsible for much of it, and plain bad chance for the rest.
I think it might be something in between. I think maybe God wants to be a part of our lives, and He doesn’t want to pull the strings, take over from the joy of our being independent. But, He delights in watching us, and as we draw near Him, He shows up in reflections of events around, blessings.
I’m sorry Brenda. You’ll never read this, I know. But, I feel sorry for you. You won’t find that romantic love you seek, because... well, you are taking yourself along. How can you enjoy a monogamous relationship? How can you get... I’m sorry... I wish you had been... Well... I wish you well.
How many times does it happen when a person finds they can reinvent their lives at age 52? I’m pretty lucky.
And, somehow, I think He had a lot to do with this, rearranging... Brenda and I were going in different directions.
I hope she finds her way.
I AM.
That’s what He said about Himself. Doesn’t that resonate?!!!
I think that is one of God’s great delights. He was close enough to one of us, Moses, to breathe on Him... as small a sliver of Himself, flashed across a cleft in the rock...
I think God delights in hearing us. Sometimes there seems to be the faintest of hints His breath is near.
Women. Some have shown interest, but I have none. Felt good, flattering when I needed a little flattering. I love companionship, but, at least for now, that is all I want. And maybe it will stay that way. That’s OK.
June.
Jeremiah safe and happy. Isaac independent. I’m going to the other side of the world to sit on a porch, walk through jungles, breathe different air, eat different food, meet different people.
The worship this morning was interesting. The particular songs we did were not particularly mine. Often I can feel the lyrics as some sort of echo of my life. But this morning, I was simply relaxing into telling Him I think He is pretty cool. Felt good. Not an especially meaningful... just a part of our relationship.
Hmmmm... I’m writing in bed... and I am still laying, sleeping, on the same side of the bed. That space over there is maintained.
I feel pretty fortunate. Issues and events will pass. June will come, and life will be different. Starting this Summer.
There.
No tidy essay. Just a few thoughts.
By June Jeremiah must be in a group home. Isaac graduates. I’m going to Thailand.
Hepatitis A Recommended for all travelers
Hepatitis B Recommended for all travelers
Typhoid those who eat or drink outside major restaurants
Japanese encephalitis For long-term (>1 month) travelers to rural areas or travelers who may engage in extensive unprotected outdoor activities in rural areas, especially after dusk
Measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) Two doses recommended for all travelers born after 1956, if not previously given
Tetanus-diphtheria Revaccination recommended every 10 years
All travelers should visit either their personal physician or a travel health clinic 4-8 weeks before departure.
OK... that takes care of getting the list together... There you go, Doc.
June.
I’ve done a lot of moaning these last few years. Sorry. Hit a tough spot there and I got bummed, and I... I got hurt.
There was a refusal on my part to give up on my marriage. That made it worse.
I’m starting to see how completely twisted my life had become. I’m starting to see that though this really hurt, I am really, truly, verifiably, blessed.
There’s a lot behind that statement.
Financial blessings. This refinance is going to save me a ton of money ($200 a month in my pocket, everything paid, in 15 years, not the 30, and that second mortgage had a balloon on it). Dealt with. Done.
My children and I have grown closer, and they have learned so much these last few weeks, the last couple of months... They are on their way to being able to care for themselves. And Isaac will have to. In June.
Faith. What is this that has been happening to me these last few years? How can my faith start to become so important to me? Was this a partial cause for the failure of the marriage? Did we grow in different directions, spiritually? And what is this? So often I feel, I really feel, God’s eyes upon me. Deliciously terrifying.
Freedom. This is so far from just a few weeks ago.
There were so many things which tied us together. Some were real. Some were lies. Companionship. Conversation. A habit of spooning...
That was hard at first. The empty bed. The largeness of this California king size. It is fading.
I see what I have been doing, and I understand. I think. I have gotten good at seeing what I want to see... little hard to double check all assumptions.
I was panicked over being unmarried, alone.
June.
Lately I have been thinking about being me... I’m pretty lucky. Really. I have an excellent job. My home will be paid off about the time I retire.
I've been alone before. In the last half of the 70s I hitchhiked and hiked all over the west side of North America. Just me. Well, one trip I had a dog.
I've been celibate. I lived in that ashram for almost two years.
I don’t know what God has in mind... but I am open to just about any idea. I don’t need another person in my life, He is all I really need. But, if I found someone who shared the same passions, and interests, and there was a real partnership in it... but I could just as easily take after Paul.
That’s another idea rolling around my head. Some see God as someone who is pulling all the strings, and for good or bad, He is in charge of every detail.
Others sing out that God could just be watching, and we are on our own, and that scares us. We want Him more involved than that. They say this about how we conduct ourselves. Free will. Provide us choices, and a responsibility that we are responsible for much of it, and plain bad chance for the rest.
I think it might be something in between. I think maybe God wants to be a part of our lives, and He doesn’t want to pull the strings, take over from the joy of our being independent. But, He delights in watching us, and as we draw near Him, He shows up in reflections of events around, blessings.
I’m sorry Brenda. You’ll never read this, I know. But, I feel sorry for you. You won’t find that romantic love you seek, because... well, you are taking yourself along. How can you enjoy a monogamous relationship? How can you get... I’m sorry... I wish you had been... Well... I wish you well.
How many times does it happen when a person finds they can reinvent their lives at age 52? I’m pretty lucky.
And, somehow, I think He had a lot to do with this, rearranging... Brenda and I were going in different directions.
I hope she finds her way.
I AM.
That’s what He said about Himself. Doesn’t that resonate?!!!
I think that is one of God’s great delights. He was close enough to one of us, Moses, to breathe on Him... as small a sliver of Himself, flashed across a cleft in the rock...
I think God delights in hearing us. Sometimes there seems to be the faintest of hints His breath is near.
Women. Some have shown interest, but I have none. Felt good, flattering when I needed a little flattering. I love companionship, but, at least for now, that is all I want. And maybe it will stay that way. That’s OK.
June.
Jeremiah safe and happy. Isaac independent. I’m going to the other side of the world to sit on a porch, walk through jungles, breathe different air, eat different food, meet different people.
The worship this morning was interesting. The particular songs we did were not particularly mine. Often I can feel the lyrics as some sort of echo of my life. But this morning, I was simply relaxing into telling Him I think He is pretty cool. Felt good. Not an especially meaningful... just a part of our relationship.
Hmmmm... I’m writing in bed... and I am still laying, sleeping, on the same side of the bed. That space over there is maintained.
I feel pretty fortunate. Issues and events will pass. June will come, and life will be different. Starting this Summer.
There.
No tidy essay. Just a few thoughts.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Stuff Like That
This is a strange, new, and often, anonymous way to record one’s thoughts... a journal of sorts... I write little essays... or prayers... or wand’ring disjointed phrases about loss, joy, triumphs, failures, discoveries, and most importantly, questions.
My nom de plume, Curious Servant, suggests this is anonymous... that my identity is as well hidden as Clark Kent’s. The reality is everyone who knows me probably knows and may be reading these glowing digital entries. Since I am pretending it is all a matter of secret identities, I don’t name my friends in these ramblings. And since I avoid naming them, I tend not to write about them.
Doesn’t seem right.
This overly sensitive heart of mine gets me worked up sometimes, and I have a lot of friends who lean up against me, and make me feel loved, strong, capable. All these people bless me in every way.
Some brought food. Some brought handymanish help. Some brought open ears and hearts and prayers.
My best friends are a group of guys. We number a half dozen. Each of us are available to each other. Period. Not after work. Not after the sun comes up... We are available to each other. 24, 7, 365.2421...
This past year these guys and I have sat together and talked at least once a week while I wondered what was the right thing to do.
Buddies.
Jesus had buddies.
The one time scriptures mentions Him crying, He was grieving a friend.
We are so marvelously made! Not just the usual stuff about our bodies, and minds, and gifts, and all that... How we are in the way we interact! We are made for community. Churches become the tribe we belong to, an echo of ancestral life. We live our lives within a family. We need to care. We are made to care, for mates, family, for the wonderful community of our church family. We are designed to care, to love.
It is a real need. Or we wouldn’t have organizations to foster it.
Friendship is a part of this. He made us so we want to care for someone, love someone. No wonder we appreciate God is love... We sense the best part of us is the part that cares.
My good friends...
One’s a teacher. Intelligent, witty, politically savvy. Unannounced I’ve pulled up at his place and said... "Hey... I want to go sit by the shed and talk." We did. And I have sat many times around that fire pit in his yard, appreciating his taste in music... talking about things that matter, praying. Stuff like that.
One’s a grinning giant who jumps in on whatever is going on... he always pitches in to help. From listening, to running errands, to watching my kids... Stuff like that.
One’s a wood craftsman... I mean he is a great crafter of wood, not that he is made of wood... just that he makes fine woodwork. Newels, and rails and cabinets and clever stuff... Ah, you know what I mean... Any way, this friend is also ready to lend a hand... Prays. Cute kids. Kind and caring. Stuff like that.
One’s bookish fellow with a huge heart and an endless capacity to care. And to pray. And... definitely available 24/7. Two in the morning after the fire... When my child died... When life gets messy. He is here within the hour in an emergency. Good for a cup of coffee too. Stuff like that.
I have so many wonderful relationships... blessings... There are a several women... all a little older than I... I call them my sisters. They pray, they talk, they ask, they help, and they grab me by the ear when I misbehave. Stuff like that.
There’s a guy on the other side of the continent who reads, comments, calls, writes, and prays for me, just because he is a very, very nice guy who saw someone he liked. Stuff like that.
Someone pretty special is a bashful, aw shucks sort of guy who works across the hall from me. We have prayed together. He listens to all my gushing ramblings about the discoveries science keeps making. I don’t know why I picked that topic to always be the main thing I talk about with him. He is pretty kind, listening to it, when he would rather we were talking about trails in the mountains, or not talking at all... he does have papers to grade! But he has been over and helped in any way he could... He has a touch of technophobia, so I print these posts out for him... He has about 10 reams of them I think.
Stuff like that.
Probably what hurts the most about losing my marriage, is I lost my best friend.
I'm not exactly sure when that happened.
My nom de plume, Curious Servant, suggests this is anonymous... that my identity is as well hidden as Clark Kent’s. The reality is everyone who knows me probably knows and may be reading these glowing digital entries. Since I am pretending it is all a matter of secret identities, I don’t name my friends in these ramblings. And since I avoid naming them, I tend not to write about them.
Doesn’t seem right.
This overly sensitive heart of mine gets me worked up sometimes, and I have a lot of friends who lean up against me, and make me feel loved, strong, capable. All these people bless me in every way.
Some brought food. Some brought handymanish help. Some brought open ears and hearts and prayers.
My best friends are a group of guys. We number a half dozen. Each of us are available to each other. Period. Not after work. Not after the sun comes up... We are available to each other. 24, 7, 365.2421...
This past year these guys and I have sat together and talked at least once a week while I wondered what was the right thing to do.
Buddies.
Jesus had buddies.
The one time scriptures mentions Him crying, He was grieving a friend.
We are so marvelously made! Not just the usual stuff about our bodies, and minds, and gifts, and all that... How we are in the way we interact! We are made for community. Churches become the tribe we belong to, an echo of ancestral life. We live our lives within a family. We need to care. We are made to care, for mates, family, for the wonderful community of our church family. We are designed to care, to love.
It is a real need. Or we wouldn’t have organizations to foster it.
Friendship is a part of this. He made us so we want to care for someone, love someone. No wonder we appreciate God is love... We sense the best part of us is the part that cares.
My good friends...
One’s a teacher. Intelligent, witty, politically savvy. Unannounced I’ve pulled up at his place and said... "Hey... I want to go sit by the shed and talk." We did. And I have sat many times around that fire pit in his yard, appreciating his taste in music... talking about things that matter, praying. Stuff like that.
One’s a grinning giant who jumps in on whatever is going on... he always pitches in to help. From listening, to running errands, to watching my kids... Stuff like that.
One’s a wood craftsman... I mean he is a great crafter of wood, not that he is made of wood... just that he makes fine woodwork. Newels, and rails and cabinets and clever stuff... Ah, you know what I mean... Any way, this friend is also ready to lend a hand... Prays. Cute kids. Kind and caring. Stuff like that.
One’s bookish fellow with a huge heart and an endless capacity to care. And to pray. And... definitely available 24/7. Two in the morning after the fire... When my child died... When life gets messy. He is here within the hour in an emergency. Good for a cup of coffee too. Stuff like that.
I have so many wonderful relationships... blessings... There are a several women... all a little older than I... I call them my sisters. They pray, they talk, they ask, they help, and they grab me by the ear when I misbehave. Stuff like that.
There’s a guy on the other side of the continent who reads, comments, calls, writes, and prays for me, just because he is a very, very nice guy who saw someone he liked. Stuff like that.
Someone pretty special is a bashful, aw shucks sort of guy who works across the hall from me. We have prayed together. He listens to all my gushing ramblings about the discoveries science keeps making. I don’t know why I picked that topic to always be the main thing I talk about with him. He is pretty kind, listening to it, when he would rather we were talking about trails in the mountains, or not talking at all... he does have papers to grade! But he has been over and helped in any way he could... He has a touch of technophobia, so I print these posts out for him... He has about 10 reams of them I think.
Stuff like that.
Probably what hurts the most about losing my marriage, is I lost my best friend.
I'm not exactly sure when that happened.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Paradigm Shift
"When are you moving out?"
I heard that question many times in the months preceding my 18th birthday.
My birthday is in April, so to move out then would be before I graduated high school.
I moved out on my birthday.
It was exhilarating to be on my own. I rented an unfinished basement for $50 a month and ate fried Bisquick and honey. I finished (apathetically) high school.
Isaac is 18. He is a senior. He knows the story I've related here, and he knows I am unlike my father, I'm not concerned when he moves out.
He also knows I want him to have the skills to take care of himself by June. He will have graduated and needs to learn to live an adult life.
I've made it clear I want him to learn to work this Summer... really work... I want him to know how to hold down a job, and how to pay bills.
I told him starting in July I expect him to pay $400 a month rent. He needs to understand how money comes in, and how money goes out. I've told him I will set aside 25% of what he pays and save it for him, so he can get started on his own (first and last, start utilities, etc.).
Jeremiah turns 20 in March. He will not be able to live on his own. He needs a group home to care for him.
There is a resource available to him which will disappear by June. If he can be living in a group home by June, he will have the resources to pay for his living expenses from now on.
If he does not move into such a place by June, that funding disappears and will probably not return. If that is the situation, I can expect to be caring for him most of my life.
If he does find such a place, he can have his own life, independent of me. He can make friends, do many things, and without the restrictions I place on him because of the logistics of caring for him.
Just after school ends I will be going to Thailand for a month... a couple of days in Paris. I will take a week or two on a road trip from Southern California to Oregon with an old friend.
June.
By June I will have begun a new life.
I'm divorced now. Soon I will be single... not defining myself by a failed marriage, but by my present status.
By June I will have begun a life that could be headed in any direction. If Jeremiah is with me, I may be looking at a life of caring for him... a life where he is central to all my plans. If Jeremiah is safe and happy, I could be free to do almost anything.
For years I have seen my future as one striding, then walking, and finally strolling into old age with Brenda, a woman I have loved, still love (though do not trust).
It is unsettling to be so unclear to what my future may be. It feels like the world is shaking, trembling, moving.
It reminds me of the game my brothers and I played as kids on demolition sites... We'd break the exterior walls of a two or three story building, get on top of it, and have a tractor smack it and snap the interior walls. The building would disintegrate and we would "Ride the Roof!"
It's January and I am divorced. I am preparing my children for their futures. Within the next few months I will be on a wild ride, debris, dust, glass, bits of wood, and sheetrock, squirting out around me.
i feel I am riding a bucking platform while the world reshapes itself.
I know it will all work out. I know that one way or another, the months will slide past as they always do, and I will arrive somewhere doing something.
But what that future may be... I haven't a good idea at all. To have my vision of the future shift from a partnership with Brenda to this wide open range of possibilities... unnerving.
I could be headed to a life where I work very hard to always watch over and care for my older son.
I could be headed for a life where he is safe, and happy, and productive, and does not need me to oversee every detail of his life.
Strangely I have found I am no longer so concerned about a partner, a mate. I'm not interested in dating, being too preoccupied with my children, and I feel I could go anywhere with my life if it turns out I am free to do so.
If Jeremiah and Isaac are set on paths that are safe, I can see myself getting married and fulfilling a version of what I had envisioned... or... I can see myself single, celibate... dedicating my life to writing, art, and drawing closer to God.
I have applied for a loan to refinance my house. Fifteen years at 4.5%. My credit card debts gone. My monthly net having another $200 wiggle room. A very good change from the 30 year loan at 6.75% and a balloon payment. Very good news. My retirement will include a home that is paid for.
We sometimes refer to our view of our world as a paradigm. Mine has shifted greatly over the past year... and the vision of my future has also changed. I haven't a new vision to replace the old, and perhaps that is the healthiest approach... live each day making the right choices as they come.
I'm standing atop a shaking structure... it is about to move... I have no clue what this ride will be like.
I heard that question many times in the months preceding my 18th birthday.
My birthday is in April, so to move out then would be before I graduated high school.
I moved out on my birthday.
It was exhilarating to be on my own. I rented an unfinished basement for $50 a month and ate fried Bisquick and honey. I finished (apathetically) high school.
Isaac is 18. He is a senior. He knows the story I've related here, and he knows I am unlike my father, I'm not concerned when he moves out.
He also knows I want him to have the skills to take care of himself by June. He will have graduated and needs to learn to live an adult life.
I've made it clear I want him to learn to work this Summer... really work... I want him to know how to hold down a job, and how to pay bills.
I told him starting in July I expect him to pay $400 a month rent. He needs to understand how money comes in, and how money goes out. I've told him I will set aside 25% of what he pays and save it for him, so he can get started on his own (first and last, start utilities, etc.).
Jeremiah turns 20 in March. He will not be able to live on his own. He needs a group home to care for him.
There is a resource available to him which will disappear by June. If he can be living in a group home by June, he will have the resources to pay for his living expenses from now on.
If he does not move into such a place by June, that funding disappears and will probably not return. If that is the situation, I can expect to be caring for him most of my life.
If he does find such a place, he can have his own life, independent of me. He can make friends, do many things, and without the restrictions I place on him because of the logistics of caring for him.
Just after school ends I will be going to Thailand for a month... a couple of days in Paris. I will take a week or two on a road trip from Southern California to Oregon with an old friend.
June.
By June I will have begun a new life.
I'm divorced now. Soon I will be single... not defining myself by a failed marriage, but by my present status.
By June I will have begun a life that could be headed in any direction. If Jeremiah is with me, I may be looking at a life of caring for him... a life where he is central to all my plans. If Jeremiah is safe and happy, I could be free to do almost anything.
For years I have seen my future as one striding, then walking, and finally strolling into old age with Brenda, a woman I have loved, still love (though do not trust).
It is unsettling to be so unclear to what my future may be. It feels like the world is shaking, trembling, moving.
It reminds me of the game my brothers and I played as kids on demolition sites... We'd break the exterior walls of a two or three story building, get on top of it, and have a tractor smack it and snap the interior walls. The building would disintegrate and we would "Ride the Roof!"
It's January and I am divorced. I am preparing my children for their futures. Within the next few months I will be on a wild ride, debris, dust, glass, bits of wood, and sheetrock, squirting out around me.
i feel I am riding a bucking platform while the world reshapes itself.
I know it will all work out. I know that one way or another, the months will slide past as they always do, and I will arrive somewhere doing something.
But what that future may be... I haven't a good idea at all. To have my vision of the future shift from a partnership with Brenda to this wide open range of possibilities... unnerving.
I could be headed to a life where I work very hard to always watch over and care for my older son.
I could be headed for a life where he is safe, and happy, and productive, and does not need me to oversee every detail of his life.
Strangely I have found I am no longer so concerned about a partner, a mate. I'm not interested in dating, being too preoccupied with my children, and I feel I could go anywhere with my life if it turns out I am free to do so.
If Jeremiah and Isaac are set on paths that are safe, I can see myself getting married and fulfilling a version of what I had envisioned... or... I can see myself single, celibate... dedicating my life to writing, art, and drawing closer to God.
I have applied for a loan to refinance my house. Fifteen years at 4.5%. My credit card debts gone. My monthly net having another $200 wiggle room. A very good change from the 30 year loan at 6.75% and a balloon payment. Very good news. My retirement will include a home that is paid for.
We sometimes refer to our view of our world as a paradigm. Mine has shifted greatly over the past year... and the vision of my future has also changed. I haven't a new vision to replace the old, and perhaps that is the healthiest approach... live each day making the right choices as they come.
I'm standing atop a shaking structure... it is about to move... I have no clue what this ride will be like.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Naked
The tickle grew on my upper lip... with barely a thought I rubbed it.
I’m startled when I touch my face.
For thirty-four years my hand has slid across thick hair sprouting across the lower half of my mug.
When I touch my face, or look in the mirror, I am startled... It's not the visage I have known.
It’s naked.
It isn’t nude... There isn’t any artistic subtly about this face. It isn’t along the lines of nudes in art, an appreciation of the human form.
Adding shaving to my morning routine isn't offering the world a gift, that is certain.
It's just a modern custom, scraping off persistent hairs, distancing ourselves from when we were more preoccupied with hunting and gathering.
It’s naked. I'm naked.
I bought a nice razor... one of those fancy ones that has somewhere between three and thirty blades, requiring I skip a couple of meals to pay for refills.
Despite the wonders of this complex grooming tool, all its features still fail to do a thorough job.
Apparently all those blades perform some vital function in the slicing of my daily growth. I suppose the first blade lifts the hair, the second blade admonishes it, the third blade torments it, the fourth blade slices through, the fifth blade grasps the stub... pulling it up, so the sixth blade can sweep across with a closeness usually reserved for miniature electronics.
And still I never quite rid the clearcut of my face of the stumps from the missing whiskers forest.
I take to pulling the blade north, south, east and west, sweeping in hopeful arcs around the chin, over strange patches which defy the best engineering efforts of Gillette and Schick.
I’ve been told I look younger without my beard. I guess the missing grey helps.
I’ve been told I look thinner without my beard. The missing fur used to thicken and round this aging visage.
I'm not complaining over this morning ritual added to showering and ironing and lunch making. It isn’t a complaint over the strange sand paper effect my cheeks develop by the time I leave work. I’m not even complaining about the nicks and cuts I get when I scrape extra hard to get a stubborn patch just under the chin’s edge or along the upper lip.
It’s because I’m naked.
I’m exposed. The wind blows across my face, the rain clings, and beside the chill, I feel I am stripped of the natural protection my face uses to hide from the wind and the rain and the scrutiny of others.
At least Santa still has a beard
I suppose I could argue God intended for beards, it's the natural pattern He gave our bodies, but that point withers against the counterpoint of some scriptural passages (Genesis 17:10).
I was a double major in college, literature and art. A nude is something graceful, beautiful. Smooth lines, beauty He made.
Naked is something else. It's an awareness of being exposed. It is open to view, not just the lack of clothing. We can be naked in many ways.
Genesis describes Adam and Eve's shame over a physical lack of clothing as being naked, it was their awareness that had changed.
Man is the only animal that blushes - or needs to. --Mark Twain
Being naked can be good or bad.
It can be about courage. I try to be naked in this online journal. Good or bad, I try to be honest with myself here (though I suppose I still try to be somewhat discreet).
Part of it is needful for protection, or at least being presentable.
And part of being naked is beyond our control. All the history of modern politicians is exposed to the glare of publicity. The feeling of exposure, of being naked to the world, comes from the awareness that one is being scrutinized.
In faith I am as naked as those orchard thieves. Hiding among trees is no protection from omniscience.
Sitting here at this keyboard I am clothed by my mind, hidden by a screen woven of words.
But when I worship, unbidden, visions of the incredible, or nearly incredible flicker across my internal view. RNA molecules scurrying with their loads of genetic data...
flickering electrons both somewhere and potentially, anywhere...
Neutron stars, less than 12 miles across and more massive than our sun, spinning more than 30 times per second,
planetary nebulae, the dying gasps of ancient stars,
molecular nebular, stellar nurseries with bright blue infant suns...
I see in my mind, I feel in my heart, majesty, beauty, power, grace... I sense intelligence, powerful emotions from beyond the universe I barely recognize as love, caring...
When I worship I feel naked. Laid bare, under the watchful eye of a mighty being.
It is terrifying and satisfying.
This current scraping of my face each morning... I don't know if I can keep up the daily ritual, or grow accustomed to the breeze on bare cheeks.
Some forms of being naked are beyond our control... But some, clothing and facial growths... those are things I can do something about.
I’m startled when I touch my face.
For thirty-four years my hand has slid across thick hair sprouting across the lower half of my mug.
When I touch my face, or look in the mirror, I am startled... It's not the visage I have known.
It’s naked.
It isn’t nude... There isn’t any artistic subtly about this face. It isn’t along the lines of nudes in art, an appreciation of the human form.
Adding shaving to my morning routine isn't offering the world a gift, that is certain.
It's just a modern custom, scraping off persistent hairs, distancing ourselves from when we were more preoccupied with hunting and gathering.
It’s naked. I'm naked.
I bought a nice razor... one of those fancy ones that has somewhere between three and thirty blades, requiring I skip a couple of meals to pay for refills.
Despite the wonders of this complex grooming tool, all its features still fail to do a thorough job.
Apparently all those blades perform some vital function in the slicing of my daily growth. I suppose the first blade lifts the hair, the second blade admonishes it, the third blade torments it, the fourth blade slices through, the fifth blade grasps the stub... pulling it up, so the sixth blade can sweep across with a closeness usually reserved for miniature electronics.
And still I never quite rid the clearcut of my face of the stumps from the missing whiskers forest.
I take to pulling the blade north, south, east and west, sweeping in hopeful arcs around the chin, over strange patches which defy the best engineering efforts of Gillette and Schick.
I’ve been told I look younger without my beard. I guess the missing grey helps.
I’ve been told I look thinner without my beard. The missing fur used to thicken and round this aging visage.
I'm not complaining over this morning ritual added to showering and ironing and lunch making. It isn’t a complaint over the strange sand paper effect my cheeks develop by the time I leave work. I’m not even complaining about the nicks and cuts I get when I scrape extra hard to get a stubborn patch just under the chin’s edge or along the upper lip.
It’s because I’m naked.
I’m exposed. The wind blows across my face, the rain clings, and beside the chill, I feel I am stripped of the natural protection my face uses to hide from the wind and the rain and the scrutiny of others.
At least Santa still has a beardI was a double major in college, literature and art. A nude is something graceful, beautiful. Smooth lines, beauty He made.
Naked is something else. It's an awareness of being exposed. It is open to view, not just the lack of clothing. We can be naked in many ways.
Genesis describes Adam and Eve's shame over a physical lack of clothing as being naked, it was their awareness that had changed.
Man is the only animal that blushes - or needs to. --Mark Twain
Being naked can be good or bad.
It can be about courage. I try to be naked in this online journal. Good or bad, I try to be honest with myself here (though I suppose I still try to be somewhat discreet).
Part of it is needful for protection, or at least being presentable.
And part of being naked is beyond our control. All the history of modern politicians is exposed to the glare of publicity. The feeling of exposure, of being naked to the world, comes from the awareness that one is being scrutinized.
In faith I am as naked as those orchard thieves. Hiding among trees is no protection from omniscience.
Sitting here at this keyboard I am clothed by my mind, hidden by a screen woven of words.
But when I worship, unbidden, visions of the incredible, or nearly incredible flicker across my internal view. RNA molecules scurrying with their loads of genetic data...
flickering electrons both somewhere and potentially, anywhere...
Neutron stars, less than 12 miles across and more massive than our sun, spinning more than 30 times per second,
planetary nebulae, the dying gasps of ancient stars,
molecular nebular, stellar nurseries with bright blue infant suns...
I see in my mind, I feel in my heart, majesty, beauty, power, grace... I sense intelligence, powerful emotions from beyond the universe I barely recognize as love, caring...
When I worship I feel naked. Laid bare, under the watchful eye of a mighty being.
It is terrifying and satisfying.
This current scraping of my face each morning... I don't know if I can keep up the daily ritual, or grow accustomed to the breeze on bare cheeks.
Some forms of being naked are beyond our control... But some, clothing and facial growths... those are things I can do something about.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
For Bigger and Smaller
"You were my best friend."
The touch of melodrama was coming from me this time.
Brenda came over for a bit this afternoon. She was headed home from work... Tualatin to Molalla... 30 miles.
It was really just to spend a little time with the boys. I reminded them they were going to put the Christmas decorations away... and so the three of them did it together.
I paid bills, continued doing the laundry.
We are getting better at this... I was going to say separation, in the sense that our family has been pulled apart... but "separation" is also a quasi legal term that is not even close to how this family has been pulled apart.
The boys loved the time with her. They miss her... especially Jeremiah, who still mentions each night, when I put him to bed, that Mom and Rocky are gone.
I took the opportunity to run a couple of quick errands.
She and I have grown up together. I met her when I was 24. She was just 18.
Boy, we had no clue. Of course we thought we did. But, as we all know, no one knows more about everything than a young adult.
Sickness and in great health. Rich enough to pay our bills, and poor enough to not. Joys of pregnancies and adoptions, and the grief of tubal ligations, handicapped children, and infant death.
Before we moved to Canby we used to get up early before work each morning, to have breakfast and coffee and watch Little House on the Prairie.
We longed for such simple times which tested simple virtues.
Brenda and I had a lot of problems. There were problems of anger, and resentment, and money, and a I suppose in the last few years... a hidden motto of Semper Infidelis.
That was a touch bitter, wasn't it?
At any rate... Little by little Brenda and I are learning to relate to each other in a new way. Not the way we slowly learned to relate to each other.
She said goodbye to the boys... and I walked her out.
"You know... there seems so much that could be said..." I told her.
Her eyes were locked on mine.
We know each other. I knew about this affair long before I proved it. I know what she is thinking by the way she holds her head, where she puts her hands, the smallest of shifts in her face.
"There's no point to any of it though..."
She said nothing. All the previous meetings we have had since the divorce, she has done nearly all the talking.
"There isn't any point in telling you what we should have done or what went wrong.
"And I know that anything I could tell you about yourself or myself wouldn't matter because you either you already know it, or you wouldn't believe it, or, most importantly, it isn't my place anymore.
"But... something that has really changed in my life is... well...
"You were my best friend."
And that covered it. In that moment I told her that I was still paying for this. That I am changing... that I don't need her help... but... I told her in that simple statement that I have lost a wife, a lover, and someone I had walked a very, very long way with. I had told her I missed adult conversation, and sharing the small details as much as the large... and I felt betrayed.
The touch of melodrama was coming from me this time.
Brenda came over for a bit this afternoon. She was headed home from work... Tualatin to Molalla... 30 miles.
It was really just to spend a little time with the boys. I reminded them they were going to put the Christmas decorations away... and so the three of them did it together.
I paid bills, continued doing the laundry.
We are getting better at this... I was going to say separation, in the sense that our family has been pulled apart... but "separation" is also a quasi legal term that is not even close to how this family has been pulled apart.
The boys loved the time with her. They miss her... especially Jeremiah, who still mentions each night, when I put him to bed, that Mom and Rocky are gone.
I took the opportunity to run a couple of quick errands.
She and I have grown up together. I met her when I was 24. She was just 18.
Boy, we had no clue. Of course we thought we did. But, as we all know, no one knows more about everything than a young adult.
Sickness and in great health. Rich enough to pay our bills, and poor enough to not. Joys of pregnancies and adoptions, and the grief of tubal ligations, handicapped children, and infant death.
Before we moved to Canby we used to get up early before work each morning, to have breakfast and coffee and watch Little House on the Prairie.
We longed for such simple times which tested simple virtues.
Brenda and I had a lot of problems. There were problems of anger, and resentment, and money, and a I suppose in the last few years... a hidden motto of Semper Infidelis.
That was a touch bitter, wasn't it?
At any rate... Little by little Brenda and I are learning to relate to each other in a new way. Not the way we slowly learned to relate to each other.
She said goodbye to the boys... and I walked her out.
"You know... there seems so much that could be said..." I told her.
Her eyes were locked on mine.
We know each other. I knew about this affair long before I proved it. I know what she is thinking by the way she holds her head, where she puts her hands, the smallest of shifts in her face.
"There's no point to any of it though..."
She said nothing. All the previous meetings we have had since the divorce, she has done nearly all the talking.
"There isn't any point in telling you what we should have done or what went wrong.
"And I know that anything I could tell you about yourself or myself wouldn't matter because you either you already know it, or you wouldn't believe it, or, most importantly, it isn't my place anymore.
"But... something that has really changed in my life is... well...
"You were my best friend."
And that covered it. In that moment I told her that I was still paying for this. That I am changing... that I don't need her help... but... I told her in that simple statement that I have lost a wife, a lover, and someone I had walked a very, very long way with. I had told her I missed adult conversation, and sharing the small details as much as the large... and I felt betrayed.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
New Year
(Live)It isn't a new moon, thin, waxing. I love seeing the newest moons, a day after new.
It isn't a full moon, ruling the night as God said it would.
It isn't even a quarter moon.
The moon tonight is artistically off the clean divisions we like to make.
Today is a the first of a New Year, hopefully one that is... say... less educational.
In the coming year I need to find a life for Jeremiah, a group home, by June.
I need to teach Isaac to find and keep a job.
I'll be going to Thailand in June with a brief visit to Paris.
I've got a lot of work, my great job, to keep me occupied until then.
And... I will become settled in a new life, or at least be on the path to one.
But... right now... the phase of life I am in is a lot like tonight's phase of Luna. It's a time that doesn't measure out evenly, no clear answers.
This isn't making much sense. Sort of the point.
Twelve step programs include honesty self inventory.
Being honest with myself...
I know I'm a little different than other people... but the closer I look at other people I see that each and every one of is a little different than other people. Each unique... and surprisingly, each hurt in unique ways, has unique skills, gifts, temperaments.
Curious. I'm curious. I like to learn new things, it's almost an obsession.
Creative. When I shape something, a drawing or a painting or a carving or a computer generated image pull out the exact word for what I want to say, I feel alive and some how connected to something else, somewhere else. I'm creative.
Sensitive. Not a manly quality, but mine.
A bit of a doormat. A touch needy.
Spiritual. Every thing in my life echoes with it.
Procrastinator. I think. Sometimes I seem to have things planned way out and carry through precisely, sometimes I just put things off until the last moment.
Confused. Does being confused come out of being curious? Probably.
Quirky. It's a little strange I know what phase the moon is in. It's a little strange I mark Winter solstice by a mid night walk in a fresh snow. It's a little strange living in a cave, living in an ashram, and hitchhiking thousands of mile. I have a quirky history. I do quirky things.
Emotional. Sunrises to paintings, Bach to The Beatles, weddings, births, death, and divorce, I feel strongly.
She called this morning. Business coated with drama. True drama, not an act. But, drama. She regrets, she wishes, she... isn't what I need in my life. She will always be a part of my life, but I don't need to swim in that stream.
I haven't any answers. I haven't even a coherent post here. (Though I think it had potential when I started.)
I just know my life has been filled with odd phases, significant moments, milestones.
I'm sorting through who I am, what my life is like, doing self inventory... (Hey! I'm making a list, and I'll be checking it twice!)
So, no answers, lots of questions. Hmmmm... at least that suits the curious part of my nature. Perhaps that is why my life is quirky, after all, curiosity killed the cat (but was it the cat's curiosity?).
The phase I am in now is like tonight's moon... not one which fits neatly in descriptions, an "in between."
...............
(Dang... another poorly written post! Oh well.)
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