it's raining, it's pouring...

After coordinating a few rides, I dropped my car off at Precision Tune this morning around 8 a.m. Last night my engine over heated, so I was a little concerned about the little Honda. I thought I'd just take her in for a check up and maybe some more fluids. Perhaps she was just dehydrated.

I got the call around 9:45 a.m.

Radiator's busted, bursted, kaputt. Happy Monday.

Well, that pretty much bummed me out the rest of the day. At lunchtime the sky darkened as Fay, the tropical storm of the month, descended on us giving the ground quite a drink. The grass and trees seemed to be letting out great sighs of relief as they opened wide their mouths to receive the rain. I took my turkey and cheese sandwich into the conference room, which has a large picture window and a screened door that opens to the back yard of the office. I turned the lights off and propped open the door and just listened to the rain and occasional thunder for awhile in silence. I felt an incredible urge to run outside and let the heavy rain pound down on my head and drench me completely through. I thought about taking an umbrella out with me, holding it upside down until it filled with water and then turning it over to pour the cool water over my hair and face. It would have felt nice to have the rain wash out my insides.

I didn't do it. Eventually the storm moved on, and so did I.

Sometimes I think the rain in my life can be healthy. Its healthy to cry sometimes. Its sobering to realize I am not in absolute control of my life. But, lately I am really ready for some sunshine.

(Photo by Oviso0n)

Digestion is Neccessary

I sometimes feel great tension between myself and myself. Today has been filled with alternating tides of inspiration and defeat. On one hand I have been so nourished by the community of artists here that I feel almost desperate to create. This morning's class was the best one yet. We began listening to each other's songs. Each song was different, and affected everyone differently. It reminded me how organic songs truly are. They are living, breathing animals that cannot be placed in a cage. After having a wonderful conversation with Karin and Linford at lunch (wherein I confessed that I follow them around the southeast when they are touring) I felt a surge of confidence that I might have a song in me that is just waiting to come out.

However, I also had some very enriching conversations today with other writers about books and words. The excitement of writing prose and poetry began to grip me again throughout the course of the afternoon and peaked during Valerie Sayers' short story reading this evening. I was so drawn into the story that I was leaning over the edge of my chair. I left with a sensation of joy that I haven't experienced off of the dance floor in quite some time. (And if you know me, that's saying something.)

As I watched the sunset, I kept mulling over some phrases I wrote a few weeks ago and I realized I was humming. I thought to myself, "Self, don't lose this before it slips away. This could turn into a great song." So I went to a practice room and began to bang out some chords. I was fairly pleased with what I'd come up with after about a half hour. Something about it was nagging me though. Then, just when I thought I'd finally written something mildly original, I realized that I was playing the exact (and I mean exact) same chord progression as OTR's "Little Did I know." Defeat washed over me like the high tide over a hundred sandcastles.

I wonder if I am meant to write songs or simply play and enjoy the songs written by others. I wonder if writing music isn't really my bag. Perhaps I should focus on other writing genres, such as fiction, creative nonfiction and poetry. I'm not sure. One thing I do know for sure is that I love books and I love music. I will never, ever stop reading or listening.

(The photo of the coy fish above doesn't have anything to do with this post. I took the picture this afternoon at the little pond here. I just thought it was pretty and felt like posting it.)

freshly baked tears

Today brought with it the marriage of physical exhaustion and spiritual dryness. I came home from work to a quiet house, a sick puppy, and a mess. Without speaking (which is odd for me, even when I'm alone), I turned on some Over the Rhine and began to unpack from my weekend in Charleston. I cleaned in mental silence, folded laundry and occasionally stopped to pet my sad, sick little puppy's face. At 8 O'clock I went for a walk around the neighborhood with Lindy. I just couldn't stop thinking, even though I tried. When I came home I made some dinner and sat down on the porch to read. I finished a chapter and then decided to see if I could muster up something to blog about.

I felt at a loss for words. I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop thinking about all the secret fears which welled up to the surface last night after talking with my roommate about life and loving others. I couldn't stop worrying about my sick dog, and whether she is going to be OK. I couldn't stop feeling guilty for dancing like a crazy woman so many nights in a row that I've become physically exhausted to the point that I can scarcely find the energy to pray. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that my roommate, who I've only just begun to know and love so dearly, closed on her house today, marking the beginning of the end of our tenancy together.

And so, in these moments of being trapped between my own thoughts, I decided to read some of my old posts. I chose to read posts under the label "God's Goodness." I read through almost one year's worth of entries speaking the truth of God's goodness to me. Thick, heavy tears came quickly to my eyes and fell down upon my cheeks like stones being thrown into placid water. They seemed to flow from a deep well mixed with joy and sadness at the same time. The ripples are still spreading out, forming large rings in my heart and mind.

Its amazing to me how God will meet me even in my weakness when I am too weak to pray; to weak to do anything with my fear and worry except lay it out honestly and say "I don't know what to do with all of this!!"

I am glad tomorrow is Friday. I get to be with my community group tomorrow night at Barley's. I get to spend my Saturday at home. I get to rest on Sunday - I get to be with my Father and His family.... I long for the fellowship of the Church. I long for the fellowship of Christ. It is good for me to have solitude sometimes. It is good for me to be quiet. It is good for me to remember what is truly important.

(Photo by Caliope)

glimpses of light

I realize that I have neglected this blog for quite some time. So much so, that its beginning to look more like an amateur Japanese poetry corner than anything else. I would not be surprised if my few faithful readers had long ago given up hope that I would ever write anything worth reading on the old blogger again. To be honest though, I haven't been writing much at all lately. I've not been doing lots of things. I've just been sort of making my way through each day, one senseless hour at a time, either feeling too much of everything at once or not feeling much of anything at all. And more often, the latter.

This unwelcome numbness has settled into my life at a strange time. It has not settled on me during a time of hardship, sickness, loneliness, or pain. On the contrary I find that most days I want for nothing, and when I think about my life I am astonished at the immense blessing which has been poured out on me.

This evening while I was sitting outside in my backyard reading Oliver Twist I felt a tiny tug against my determined will to finish chapter 34, calling me to let my mind wander. I felt my mind and my senses being awakened, just for a few moments. My insides were flooded with newness and hope in a few fleeting moments as if I had just opened my eyes for the first time. I decided to make a list of all the things that I could think of that do my soul good; things that start sparks in my heart, allowing me to desire Jesus with freshness. Perhaps I can look back to my list when the smog inevitably settles in again, clouding my vision, threatening to quench that desire in me which so longs to burst into abundant flame.

It Does My Soul Good:

1. to be alone sometimes
2. to breathe deep the thick, sweet perfume of honeysuckle
3. to hold the soft face of my puppy in my hands
4. to swing high on the tree swing without fear
5. to listen to very old Rich Mullins tapes (yes, tapes)
6. to read the words that Jesus prayed for me in John
7. to jump in a pile of freshly laundered sheets
8. to drive to the mountains, just because
9. to write a poem for my mama
10. to listen to my sister
11. to clean things
12. to be reminded that I am human, and that life is not about being happy
13. to feel the power of the wind when it almost knocks me over
14. to be honest
15. to stop talking
16. to stand outside and listen to the rain
17. to make good food for someone else
18. to play with children
19. to stare at the many different colors of green in the trees
20. to close my eyes in the middle of the day
21. to rely upon my daddy, and be ok with it
22. to dance till my sides hurt

(Image by inkswamp)

Haiku Tuesday: A Paradox