and where is autumn?

For those who have followed my blog entries throughout the month of October, you've probably just scratched your head in dismay after reading each post -- not really knowing what I was referring to when I felt like I was "not really sure of much these days", (in: not quite winter... not quite fall) or exactly what dream had died (in: a dream deferred?), and finally what current season had caused my prayer life to suddenly "embrace the mystery" (in: i don't know what's gonna happen... that's alright with me). After re-reading these posts, the poetry and lyrics that my mind was drawn to still remain very relevant, very needed with all that I am processing.... because the wound is still quite fresh right now. Healing will come, I know it will, but like all things, it will take time.

Uncertainty is still the most apropos word to describe the season at hand. And even though this is a difficult season, I would even be willing to call it a dark season, I still want to glean all of the lessons and truths that are being spoken to me through the world around me -- lessons spoken through people, through nature, through the change of seasons. Oh, how I am longing to be in a place and climate that would match the state of my soul right now...

Burnt-orange leaves, mixed with mustard-yellow, and dotted with cranberry-red are bursting forth from my soul, but there is no audible crunching underfoot to match the colors that are invading my mind. Where is autumn? Where is it? Undeniably, there is autumn in my soul, in my very being, but I wish I could see the colors, hear the sounds, feel the change in temperature, and smell the fall. Yes, smell it. I miss that smell so much. There is something so distinct about fall. It is terribly romantic, and yet it is also terribly jarring. Fall ushers in so quietly, with such subtlety. But once you realize that the leaves have changed, that many of them have already turned to brown and you totally missed that they were actually gold after their summer green, there is a startling realization that awaits you.

Fall is so utterly glorious; it truly is. But, in truth, what is really hiding behind all of the brilliant hues is the ugly secret that no one wants to admit: something is dying; something has died. Even now, death is lurking. Dreams have died.

I still want to learn what I don't yet know. I am asking hard questions; I know the questions do matter. They absolutely do. I am stepping back and asking myself whether I really, do I really, want to serve as a pastor, to "be in ministry"? Do I? I don't know right now. And, I'm okay with not knowing for the time being. I'll have the next few months to ask these questions and more.

In this new season of uncertainty, I'm going to allow myself both time and space to process all that has gone down in the past three months. I know that I have been pretty vague in my posts, and that is intentional. Let me just borrow a line from Sara Groves yet again:

...how so much can go wrong

and yet still there are songs...

hometown politik

Colorado is supposedly purple right now.  My home state is one of the 'swing states' in the election this year.  In the past, Colorado has been a red state, voting for the Republican nominee for President.  But this year, this square-shaped state might be turning a new color: blau...azul...you get the picture.  I am sure that it helped that Denver was the host city for the Democratic National Convention back in August. [Which, by the way, I am still pretty bummed that I missed out on Stevie at the warm-up concert before Obama's big speech at Invesco -- because ya'll should know, for me, Stevie is where it's at.]

Everyone is eager to see what will happen on November 4^th – which is a little over a week away now, but I am particularly interested to see how Colorado will vote this year.  Will it be blue?

My hometown, good ol' Greeley, Colorado -- let's go with G-to-the-funk -- has quite an interesting political climate.  Recently, I was surprised to see that I am not the only who finds Greeley's political vibe quite interesting to follow.  The New York Times (nytimes.com is the home page on my browser - make it yours, and you'll be more in touch with what's happening in the world every time you get online) recently featured Greeley in their "Road to November" video series, and both sides of the political spectrum are presented in these interviews.  It is fascinating to analyze some of the statements that are made in this video - leave me a comment with your thoughts.  Check out the video by following the link below: 

The Road to November: Greeley, Colorado

Oh, and as you can see in this video, I also missed out on Kal Penn (I love him in The Namesake) when he visited UNC on behalf of the Obama campaign.  Although not as tragic as missing out on Stevie Wonder at Invesco, it's still a bit of a bummer.

Well, we're in countdown mode now... this election will finally come to an end.  In the meantime, keep watching SNL where you can laugh about how crazy this whole race has shaped up.  And now you can laugh on Saturdays AND Thursdays with an extra skit and Weekend Update thrown into the mix.  SNL writers don't even have to try that hard to make any of the current political scenarios funny; all of their material is being handed right to them from the candidates themselves... and some candidates are certainly more amusing (that's putting it nicely) than others... and that's all I am going to say about that.

i want to be this guy's friend

Just out and about for a little evening jaunt...

...rockin' the hobby horse of the 21st century.

This picture is absolutely incredible, no?  I stumbled upon this inventor's web-site (http://www.davidmoises.com), and I couldn't resist sharing the joy that this foto brought me, and this blog is of course the place to share such joy.

wow.

That's all I can say.

And don't you want to be his friend too?  I can't blame you.  He was born in Innsbruck (fav Austrian city -- where I'd maybe even like to live for a season or two) and it looks like he lives in Vienna now... a city of genius and he's certainly no exception to the rule.  Maybe I'll meet him on the cobblestone streets of Österreich some day... maybe he'll have a spare set of roller skates... and a spare set of knee pads. One can only hope, right?  

His creativity is unmatched... even when it comes to his wardrobe selection in this picture -- you gotta love it.  Rawk it David Moises; rawk it on your hobby horse, boy.

Loooooove it.  (you may insert Molly Shannon's joyologist expression here... go ahead, say it out loud and add a sassy kick in the air for good measure.)

i don't know what's gonna happen... that's alright with me

So many times the music, the words, and just the sheer brilliance that is Ms. India.Arie speaks.  Speaks to me.  Speaks to the struggle at hand.  Speaks to my desire, my hope, my prayer.  On each of her albums, there are certain tracks that have become my continual prayer through different seasons.  Here it is right now... for today.

Just For Today (Embrace the Mystery)

by India.Arie

from Testimonty: Vol 1, Life & Relationship

Just for today
I will not worry what tomorrow will bring, no
I’m gonna try something new and walk through this day
Like I’ve got nothing to prove, yeah
Although I have the best intentions
I can't predict anyone's reactions
So I’ll just do my best
I'll put one foot in front of the other
Keep on moving forward
And let God do the rest

I don’t know what’s gonna happen
That’s alright with me
I open up my arms and I embrace the mystery
I don’t know what’s gonna happen
That’s alright with me
I open up my arms and I embrace the mystery

Just for today 
I’m telling the truth like it's going out of style
I'm gonna swallow my pride and be who I am
And I don’t care who don’t like it, yeah
I feel the fear but I do it anyway
I won't let it stand in the way
I know what I must do
There’s no guarantee that it’ll be easy
But I know that it’ll be fulfilling
And it's time for me to show improve

It’s okay not to know
Exploration is how we grow
It’s okay to not have the answer
'Cause sometimes
It’s the question that matters

I don’t know what’s gonna happen
That’s alright with me
I open up my arms and I embrace the mystery
I don’t know what’s gonna happen
That’s alright with me
I open up my arms and I embrace the mystery

a dream deferred?

Right now i am processing a lot, a whole lot.  The post titled "not quite winter, not quite fall..." was only a preface to the uncertainty that is at hand now.  Dang, I thought I wasn't sure of much about a week ago, but I am really not sure of much right now.  I am mourning and grieving the loss of so many things... one of the most difficult being the death of a dream.  Does a dream die...?

It sure feels as though it has died.

The classic Langston Hughes poem came to mind today - most know it from A Raisin in the Sun.  I remember being so drawn in to the journey of the character's struggles when reading the play in high school, and I still have to laugh at the thought of my dad being volunteered by my omi to be a part of the cast when he lived in Austria as a young boy.  And now, the same poem greets me today.  What happens to a dream?

Here's the poem...

A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up 

like a raisin in the sun? 

Or fester like a sore-- 

And then run? 

Does it stink like rotten meat? 

Or crust and sugar over-- 

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags 

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

gotta have that funk

These kids have got some moves. Seriously folks - I want to be one of them. This commercial says it all... 

"being with people who understand you: priceless."

Isn't that the truth?

You simply have to watch this commercial more than once to fully 

appreciate it. In fact, I watch it about once a week.

not quite winter... not quite fall.

Yes, I'm back.  I don't bring much (mostly some ramblings), but nonetheless, I felt compelled to write tonight.

To be perfectly honest, after a couple of months in Riverside, I'm really not sure of much these days....

Of course there have been a whole lot of lessons and a whole lot of character building that has taken place since my last entry on here (the one about my love of eggplant --> update: I am proud to say I have discovered two new breeds of this most beloved vegetable at both of the farmer's markets in Riverside: Japanese Eggplant and Indian Eggplant - delightful!  AND, I'm happy to note that the drop in temperature finally allowed me to don that eggplant-colored scarf that I mentioned before.) The fact of the matter is that I am always learning something, but I haven't quite figured out how to articulate the lessons that have come in the past two months.  There have been plenty of times where I thought, "Hmmm... perhaps I should write about this new insight in that blessed blog of mine..." But then that new insight was met with a new question... And, like I said, I'm just not sure of much these days.

During the Presidential debate tonight, the final question that was posed to the candidates asked, "What don't you know, and how will you learn it?"  Hmmmm.  

I'm just gonna' let that one sit with me for awhile - I'm not going to even attempt to answer it.  Because there's not much that I am sure of right now except the honest truth that I don't know.  In the same breath, I really want to believe that I am truly open to learning it... open to learning what I don't know.

Thankfully, even in my uncertainty, there is music... there is always music.  And as I wrote that last sentence, I'm reminded of one of my favorite Sara Groves lines,

oh, Tell me what you know 
About God and the world and the human soul 
How so much can go wrong 
and still there are songs 

Yes, there are still songs.  And that is where I find myself - in the comfort of a song.  Sometimes the comfort comes in the old, familiar song that meets you like a fleece blanket and a hot cup of tea... much like a Joni Mitchell album: a dear, old friend that is often overlooked or even forgotten about - but once you give that sister a fresh spin on the record player - whoo-ee, you're a new woman because Joni gets you.  She gets me.

Or sometimes, the comfort comes in that new song that you just can't stop playing over and over again... it resonates so deeply within your soul, and no matter what you do, you just can't get enough of it.  You roll down all the windows in your car and let that evening summer breeze carry the notes beyond your four doors because, like the song, your joy cannot be contained - much like Coldplay's Viva la Vida album that debuted this past summer.  Dude, it spoke to me.  And it still does when I need to call on it.  It got me through one of the scariest/loneliest times while I was seriously lost and alone in Europe this past summer.  When I was all by myself in Frankfurt, listening to the title track (thankfully that one song had been pre-released on itunes before I left for my Euro adventure) was quite literally my sanity.  And now I can see how that scary, lonely feeling while traveling from Frankfurt to Stockholm was actually a precursor to what I would feel and experience for much longer than one day once I moved to Riverside.  And so, the summer anthem of Viva la Vida along with the rest of the tracks on the album have been a buoy for me in this unfamiliar season and place that is called Riverside.

The comfort of a song speaks what words cannot.  It just does.  That is one thing I know for sure.

And that is why I write today -- because there's a dear, old friend that can describe the season that I find myself in right now.  Deb Talan's song The Darkest Season (from her Something Burning album)  hit me the other night.  And thank goodness that it did.  It's funny how songs and seasons come full circle sometimes.  Because this same song and same album is what got me through my first semester of college - exactly four years ago, at a time when I felt unsure about most things in an unfamiliar season and place that is called Loma.  So many of the same prayers that I have offered up in the past two months are the same prayers that I was offering up four years ago - in a different place, a different season, and even a different woman, but still some of the same prayers.  One of my dearest friends, Lizzy, introduced me to Deb because of my notorious neon-blue raincoat (there's a lil' story that goes with the raincoat - ask me about it sometime).  And once I met Deb, it was like she got me.  And all of the friends that have been introduced to Deb since that time, agree most heartily: she gets us.  And now, exactly four years later, this now old, familiar friend will continue to journey with me, and her music will speak what words cannot.  

Here's the comfort I find in The Darkest Season... read these bit o' lyrics (spliced from the entire song) over more than just once... let them sink in somewhere...  better yet, listen to the actual song for the real experience.

the last few

golden leaves

are clinging

tightly

to their branches

like they don't

want to let go

like they don't

trust

what they don't know

what they don't know

cause it's not quite winter,

and it's not quite fall...

...i just feel the empty space

i just feel the wind blow through...

and it's not quite winter,

and it's not quite fall...

...my heart can't feel the reason

why must we enter the darkest season?

Lyrics like that really shouldn't have any follow-up.  They can stand alone just fine.  I shouldn't even be writing this sentence.  But I guess I feel some need to go on.... The glimpses of the actual seasons of the earth so often echo and depict the season that I find myself in, and I find such solace in this cycle of nature... This cycle is often one of 'this too shall pass', but while in the current season, whatever the season may be, my desire and my prayer has always been to look to the lessons that the current season holds... the questions and the truths -- to fully immerse myself in the season at hand.

I often glean much wisdom and insight from the sides of Celestial Seasons tea boxes (shout out to Boulder peeps).  Yes, I am one of those people who does love and even look for the sayings and stories they print on the tea boxes.  Call me sappy if you must - I can handle the truth on this one.  When I finished up my box of Sleepy Time tea a few nights ago, I was quite taken with this thought:

"Live in each season as it passes; 

breathe the air, 

drink the drink, 

taste the fruit, 

and resign yourself to the influences of each."

-- Henry David Thoreau

Just like those leaves that don't trust what they don't yet know, they eventually must resign themselves to the present season... to embrace even the unfamiliar, the unknown, and the uncertainty that is at hand.

Here in R-side...  it's not quite winter, and it's not quite fall...