wisdom.

i've loved this song for about six years now. which is some time to let it really settle in and take root in my prayers. it speaks time and time again. i'm reading about wisdom again these days. with a proverb a day. also soaking-in some nouwen [here and now: living in the spirit] to accompany this song. grateful for reflection. and grateful for the pursuit. of making wisdom the first step and the last thought when the day's done.

Humble yourself before the Almighty
That’s where you find true wisdom
Make it your first step, make it your last thought
Lying in bed when the day’s done

Hear it calling out your name
In the busy streets, in the center of town
Who will turn their face to truth and then live it out

Wisdom is greater than any fleeting
Pleasure that money brings you
Answers will come to those who pursue
The pathway to life that few choose

Hear it calling out your name
In the busy streets, in the center of town
Who will turn their face to truth and then live it out

Knowledge awaits you filling your arms
With more than they ever could grasp
Blessed are you who hunger for truth
And keep your eyes fixed on what lasts

Hear it calling out your name
In the busy streets, in the center of town
Who will turn their face to truth and then live it out

i want to be.

...a better blogger.
it's true.
also.
...a more intentional foto-sharer.
...a more driven language-learner.
...& a more consistent letter-writer :: snail mail, baby.

what i'm looking for is a bit more.
structure.more discipline.more routine.
which kinda' goes against my nature.
and while there is something terribly appealing about routine,
it also scares.the.spontaneity.out.of.me!
nonetheless, i think i am seeking new rhythms, please.
if i say i am going to do something, i want to do it.
follow-through.
and through.

will you help me grow in these aforementioned areas, dear ones?
i know it'll take some help from friends.
keep bugging me. reminding me.
merci. merci.

g-funk will always be home.

coming back to my ultimate home sweet home is just.so.good.
something about it fits juuust right.
much like the old pair of birkenstocks
that i haven't worn for nearly a year.
when i slipped my feet into them this morning,
the shape still fit like a glove. a glove for my toes.
it felt like, aha! -- this is what i've been missing.

.deep gratitude for stateside travel.
.and brothers and sisters throughout my lil' u.s. tour.
.but also deep gratitude to be back in colorado.
.even if just for a week.
.i will treasure this fit.

the whites of their eyes.

there's this revolutionary war quote about 'not shooting until you can see the whites of their eyes.' know the one i'm talking about? well i recently heard a much better take on that idea. except i don't know the exact phrasing, and i've been waiting to write some sort of post on here about it, and i don't want to botch it up. but here it goes anyway.

while visiting san diego last week, my dear friend and one of my mentors from loma, syl, shared this quote with me. we had a heart-to-heart chat, an absolutely life-giving conversation, over con pane sandwiches. --> which i boldly stand by the claim that thier veggie cobb is my favorite sandwich (specifically in the category of cold eats) in the entire world [avocados, roasted roma tomatoes, gorgonzola cheese, bean sprouts, red onions, romaine lettuce, and yummy spread on either rosemary or whole wheat bread]. um, yum. it's to die for. i'm not exaggerating when i say it's my favorite cold sandwich in the whole wide world. if you're ever in san diego, pleeease try it.

but, back to the quote. syl told me something she had recently heard from one of her friends, and it has continued to resonate with me... i just don't remember how to phrase it properly and accurately. the gist of it is this:

we need people in our lives both who know us and who can see the whites of our eyes.

amen and amen. ...except that it was phrased much more eloquently than that. i will try to update this once i have the whole thought spelled out a little more richer. the principle of the idea is still there though.

as i travel through different states, visiting friends and family (and friends who really should just be called 'family'), i am reminded of how true this concept really is... i am very thankful for my life in the büs, but living so far from all of the people that i love can take its toll. skype is a wonderful invention, but i don't think we can really see the whites of one another's eyes through technology. we need people whom we are actively journeying with who will know when we are hurting because they can see it in our eyes. in person. that has largely been the gift of my six-week break in the states: being with people who know me, who get me, who can see where i am at, and how i am really doing, based on the whites of my eyes.

is this echoing with anyone else? because i think it largely defines true community and what the church is to be. to and with one another. sharing life.

so as i have been with family and friends in colorado, california, idaho, minneapolis, and soon on to wisconsin, all i have is gratitude. your hospitality, authenticity, and your willingness to both open your homes and your lives speaks of real sharing and real love. it is a gift, a true gift, to be able to really see the whites of your eyes. thank you for seeing mine as well.

-------------
an amendment to this post:

my aforementioned friend and mentor, sylvia cortez, had this fuller and richer statement to add when i asked her to remind me how this idea was spelled out...

"We all need people in our lives that we can go to when we are really struggling, when we need to process, or when we are not doing well. These people need to be friends whom we can trust, who won't be judgmental, or advice givers necessarily, but who will simply listen to us and who know us in deep ways. Given the transitory nature in most people these days, many of us have these kinds of friendships with people who live in different parts of the country or world even...not necessarily in our own community. However, it's essential that we have a person or two within our community -- we need to be in relationship with people whom we actually see on a regular basis -- people who can see the whites of our eyes and because they know us well, are able to know, before we even tell them, that something is going on, that we need to talk, or that we need their presence."

amen and amen. so be it. that is my desire for life... that wherever i may be, there too will be such friendships.

that is good stuff syl. thank you for your words, and thank you for your presence in my life. thank you that even though we live on different continents, when we are back together, it is so rich....

...there is a real sharing.
and seeing.
and being.

always learning this one.

less.
really.
is.
more.

and.that.is.easier.said.than.done.
but.i'm.still.trying.

food for thought. pun intended.

today i woke up at 6:30am with no alarm. but this is actually an improvement from waking up at 4:30am yesterday and 5:00am the day before. oh the joys of jet-lag. actually, i kinda' like jet lag at this time of day when i feel super energized in the wee morning hours; my dad is already off to work, but the rest of the house is still asleep...

once i'm awake, it's hard for me to go back to sleep, so yesterday i enjoyed a colorado sunrise with my favorite morning treat: vanilla soy milk and 'special k fruit & yogurt'. the simple pleasures of life. today i warmed up (colorado has been rainy and cold so far -- not the july i was expecting after leaving the same rain and cold in the büs) to green tea and one of my favorite reads from last summer: 'take this bread' by sara miles. ahhh, so good. after i read a chapter or even just a page or paragraph or single sentence, i have to pause and reflect. her story woven into the greater story of sacrament and action gets me excited about life. about calling. about people. about food. about bodies. about sharing. about learning. about faith.

there are too many excerpts i would choose to include in this post, but here's one to savor for now, from the prologue (xv-xvi):

"...at the heart of Christianity is a power that continues to speak to and transform us. As I found to my surprise and alarm, it could speak even to me: not in the sappy, Jesus-and-cookies tone of mild-mannered liberal Christianity, or the blustering, blaming hellfire of the religious right. What I heard, and continue to hear, is a voice that can crack religious and political convictions open, that advocates for the least qualified, least official, least likely, that upsets established order and makes a joke of certainty. It proclaims against reason that the hungry will be fed, that those cast down will be raised up, and that all things, including my own failures, are being made new. It offers food without exception to the worthy and unworthy, the screwed-up and pious, and then commands everyone to do the same. It doesn't promise to solve or erase suffering but to transform it, pledging that by loving one another, even through pain, we will find more life. And it insists that by opening ourselves to strangers, the despised or frightening or unintelligible other, we will see more and more of the holy, since, without exception, all people are one body: God's.

This theology isn't mine alone. It comes from conversation with other believers, tradition, and Scripture; books and prayer and liturgy. It comes, even more, from my years outside church: from unbelieving and unbelievers, from doubt, from questions that still echo unanswered for me. Faith, for me, isn't an argument, a catechism, a philosophical "proof." It is instead a lens, a way of experiencing life, and a willingness to act."

whew. such good stuff. i affirm so much of this. i want to eat it up. and i presently am. miles' book centers on Eucharist: on food as gift. thanksgiving. of broken bread and poured wine. after walking into a church and joining in communion, miles' own life became embedded in the breaking of bread as well as the sharing of bread with her neighbor. in her mind and experience, the elements were inextricably linked to feeding people. She writes,

"The mysterious sacrament turned out to be not a symbolic wafer at all but actual food--indeed, the bread of life. In that shocking moment of communion, filled with a deep desire to reach for and become a part of a body, I realized that what I'd been doing with my life all along was what I was meant to do: feed people," (prologue, xi).

along the same thought-track, i've been researching everything i can about the 1987 danish film babettes gæstebud (known as babette's feast to english speakers). while enjoying npr in the car on tuesday, i caught a story titled food on film: the famished and the feasts. npr describes this film by saying,

"It's a French cook's extravagant "thank you" to a tiny church congregation that has sheltered her as a refugee in frigid Denmark for years. The problem is, the elderly congregation believes in self-denial — believes that pleasure must be reserved for the hereafter. So while they agree to eat the meal so as not to hurt Babette's feelings, they vow to each other that they will not enjoy the meal, or even talk about it.

This is much to the astonishment of a visitor, who can't believe what he's tasting — genuine turtle soup, great wine, and all around him, the congregation is silent. From the embarrassment in their expressions it's clear the others, despite their best efforts, are enjoying the meal, but no one in the congregation will admit it...."

... it's "all tied up in the spiritual: food as a gift, specifically Eucharistic in nature, for a religious community that has denied itself pleasure for decades.

And it is transformative: old loves are rekindled, long-simmering feuds are forgotten, redemption has a seat at the table."

npr says 'fabulous' and i agree. so has anyone seen babette's feast? tell me if you have. i can't wait to watch it soon and to keep thinking about food and the sharing of it as well as the savoring of it... with it all wrapped up in gift, gift, gift.

stay bewildered

Stay bewildered in God and only that.
Those of you who are scattered,
simplify your worrying lives.
There is one righteousness.
Water the fruit trees and
don't water the thorns.
Be generous to what nurtures the spirit and
God's luminous reason-light.
Don't honor what causes dysentery and
knotted-up tumors.
Don't feed both sides of yourself equally.
The spirit and the body carry
different loads and
require different attentions.

-- Rumi

The Ecstatic Faith of Rumi
Krista Tippet's interview with Fatemeh Keshavarz

Yesterday, I entered into one of my favorite Sabbath rhythms. When I'm not traveling or out of town on the weekends, I love listening or even re-listening to my favorite Speaking of Faith sessions. Sometimes I read along with the transcript of the program, sometimes I sit still, sometimes I cut vegetables, and sometimes I think about how much I miss my art supplies, namely mod-podge and paint. I like being able use my hands while I soak up good words. But I try to listen, and I try to reflect... as well as learn how to stay bewildered.

you've got to be kidding me.

My dear friend and brotha-from-anotha-motha', whom I affectionately refer to as Hencky-Pencky, has a current facebook status that reads, "Andrew Henck: apparently is the newest heretic in town."

and then he has this link in his status:

http://www.lighthousetrailsresearch.com/blog/index.php?p=1438&more=1&c=1

oh.my.word.

Who runs this blog? I'm stunned and amazed. Who seriously spends their time and energy with this? Everything they bemoan has largely informed who I am... all of the authors and the practices -- especially brother Roger and Taize. whew. big frustrated sigh. Why do we so quickly point fingers within the Body of Christ and make accusations and live in fear when perfect love drives out and has already driven out fear...?

This article just makes me sad. They're missing the point of all of these authors and the friends mentioned in it who have been shaped by these authors.

...love.

And so too I'm challenged to love even (and especially) those I disagree with here... but I gotta' say I'm still frustrated about it.... I mean come on.

twelve-foot mountain trolls

I recently began reading "Harry Potter" [hopefully you inserted a British accent as you read his name] on my lil' trip to London -- a fitting place to delve into the series, wouldn't you agree?... Yeah, I know, I'm lagging over a decade behind on this one... no time to start like the present though, right? Especially when the present (at this particular juncture in life) means I have the freizeit (free time) to generally do as I please and read each day simply for leisure... because I sure do like a good read. : )

Everyone who has recommended the series to me since middle school is right; these books are quite good! J.K. Rowling is such a clever writer; I especially enjoy (what I would interpret to be) her definition of what it means to be family, to be in community with one another:

"From that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them."

-- Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, pg. 132

Even pulling that quote out of context still does it justice, because it's true.

We often make the assumption that those who we share very little in common with/those who might tend to annoy us (like in the case of Hermione & Harry) can't really be our friends. I know I've had that thought before. But, after walking through a particularly difficult circumstance together, (for instance, knocking-out a twelve-foot mountain troll), we end up not only tolerating each other but we even like each other.

And isn't that a good and right thing?

lent is upon us...

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday... Morgen ist Aschermittwoch.

First, I gotta' say, I had the best of intentions to collect thoughts/prayers/questions that would follow the journey through the Church calendar this year, beginning of course with Advent, but that didn't happen for one reason or another.

So now Lent is upon us, and really, this is still a fitting time to begin sharing the journey. A new season. Lent means "spring". And there are a few small signs -- little reminders of spring's inevitable return -- popping up around this new place that I'm calling "home" for the next six months. Little yellow buds are curiously poking their heads through the patch of soil that I pass each day on my walk to and from work -- and when I walk by, I just smile to myself. Literally. I can't help but smile when I see the new growth each day. It's like this little secret I share with the earth... something to treasure when the signs of winter are much more obvious than those of spring. Even when the snow comes, and it does grace us a few days each week, those little buds (pun intended) keep at it.

And Lent, too, is about growth.
A commitment to growth, even? Yes, I suppose so.

So let us journey together... and grow into spring.

Please share your thoughts on here too... let's make it a true dialogue for the next 40 days.

vienna waits for you

Last night, while I was driving, Billy Joel's song "Vienna" came up in the shuffled selections from my ipod, and it was just what I needed to hear.  In an interview, I heard him explain why he wrote this song and why Vienna was a metaphor for the way he wanted to approach life... as well as the realization that he didn't want his life to just slip by...  I feel ya' Billy.  I feel ya' big time.

I have so many dreams, so many ambitions, but even with those, I'm asking, "Where do I go from here...?"  These three weeks in San Diego have been such a gift -- space for both reflecting and asking hard questions while processing with people that I love and respect so much.  And while the world suddenly seems so open to me now that everything in Riverside has dissolved, I still am mourning all that has transpired in the past few months.

Mostly, even while I am in a season of grieving and introspection, I want to live fully in the moment -- again, to embrace what is present... to not let life pass me by.  And while I have months suddenly at my disposal, I want to take advantage of them... to travel, to explore, to try something new, to be shaped by something unfamiliar -- to have another adventure.  And as much as it is hurting to be leaving not only San Diego now, but the state of California altogether (that is just crazy), I think I am walking forward, making the best decision in the midst of crazy and unexpected circumstances, and taking advantage of some time to be immersed in the blanket of a Colorado winter.

A friend recently told me, "The world is your oyster right now."  And, I like that, a lot.  I think that same sentiment can be found in these lyrics from the piano man.  And, since I am exploring the possibility of serving as an Au Pair in Europe, who knows, maybe Vienna really is waiting for me?  : )  (Austria is one of countries that I've been seriously considering.)  As, I listened to this song last night, after saying goodbye to such treasured friends, not knowing when or where we'll see each other again (this is killing me!), I was comforted to know that: life is still there to be seized - in every season, in every place, and that, my friend, is the kind of person I want to be.  "When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

Oddly enough, this song confirmed that I made the right decision to be in Colorado for the month of December, as well as again confirming that I made the right decision to be in San Diego during this month.  Today, it's still so difficult to be leaving San Diego, a city that is full of so many people and places that I absolutely love... that have become home to me for the past five years... but Billy's helping me get through today.  Sing us a song.

Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
Are you still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right (you're right)

You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you

Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.

And you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through

Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

everything changed

Everything changed

the day she figured out

there was exactly enough time

for the important things

in her life

-- "Enough Time", Brian Andreas

www.storypeople.com

Word. Word to your motha'. I want to discover this truth.

Time is always such an issue for everyone. Whenever you ask someone, "How are you doing?", you'll typically get one of two responses (and sometimes both!): either, "Tired." or "Busy." And although, I appreciate the honesty, I really do, there must be an alternative. Now, ya'll know I'm not calling for people to lie and say they're doing "Good" or "Fine" when in reality they are tired and busy, but I, myself, want to come to a place where there is 'exactly enough time for the important things in life'. That sounds amazing, and I really think it is possible; it's a matter of perspective, and it's a matter of intentional practice.

What things are life-giving? Being in San Diego these past few weeks has given me both time and space to explore this very question and more. Of course I came here with such high hopes that after the fall-out in R-side, I would be able to read a new book each day and meditate and think and just be. And although time still escapes me somehow, even when I don't have a job or classes to maintain, I think I am beginning to scratch the surface on this poem-statement at the beginning of this post.

Because ultimately what matters to me is people.

When it comes down to it, the important things are not things at all. Yes, I want to be saturated in the things that are life-giving to me like surrounding myself with good music, sitting in the sunshine, going for walks, riding my bike, reading a book for pleasure, dancing just to dance, preparing and eating healthy food, taking time to reflect, etc., BUT I have found that I don't take advantage of these things as much, to the fullest that is, when I feel like I am all alone. Meaning, living by myself in R-side had its perks, but when it came down to it, I wasn't experiencing the goodness and beauty of life as fully because there wasn't someone to enjoy it with. Does that make sense?

Being in San Diego, a city that I love, with so many dear friends in this same city, has made me realize that I am much more likely to hone into the little pleasures of life when there is someone to share them with... even if that sharing is just done in the re-counting of one's day before we head to bed. So, of course I love riding my bike with a friend, but even if I happen to go for a bike ride by myself, the fact that there is someone to share my bike story with at the end of the day makes it so much more delightful. Truly. Because then we're sharing life. Together.

And sharing life with people is what it all comes down to.

Yep. I want to be able to say, 'everything changed....'.

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...

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

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...

gotta' start somewhere

I guess this would be my disclaimer...

For quite some time, the mere thought of regularly maintaining a blog has seemed pretty daunting to me.  In college, there was always the issue of time; if I couldn't find enough time to even write my papers that were already due, then how could I justify sitting down at the computer and posting some rant or rave? Plus, there was also the issue of proximity.  It always seemed weird to be living in this online world where we would read each other's thoughts on the computer even though we lived on the same campus together and could very well sit down and have these sort of conversations in person - as in face to face - perhaps converse over a hot cup of tea... you with me?  And then there's the fact that I typically have a very low sense of self disclosure.  Meaning, I have a lot of opinions, a lot of thoughts, BUT I don't usually share them with just anyone.  I want to be assured that it is first safe before I open up with people.  So you can imagine that this whole internet thing feels pretty darn public.  It goes without saying, then, that I have long-hesitated joining such a league - the league of bloggers.  I mean, doesn't it seem pretty narcissistic to think that my thoughts about the world and my opinions about humanity would somehow deserve to be posted and read on the internet?  Weird, just weird.

And yet, here I find myself now.

The whole blog-world seems a little less daunting as I am entering a new season of life.  And since I will not be living near any of my old friends or family in this new season, it makes more sense to utilize this for keeping in touch with people.  I don't really know what will come of this... probably everything from posting a new vegetarian recipe that I've recently tried, to song lyrics that really resonate with my soul, to an article online that has really got me thinking.  And maybe some theology thrown into the mix.  We shall see.  I guess if I am taking the time to do this, I would want it to reflect the questions that I am currently asking as well as to celebrate the things that I love most about life  And usually, those two go hand in hand.

So here it goes... please, by all means, feel free to participate in the discussion that may ensue after any post.  Actually, I would like that a lot because then this will feel more like a conversation with dear friends - rather than just an endless stream of marte-isms.  Or better than posting a comment online, we could always talk about this stuff in person, yeah?  You bring the company, that is yourself, and I'll boil some water for the tea.