Smart Students Teaching Me

Some good life lessons my kids are extracting from Thomas Hardy.  I wish I had learned some of these sooner.  To be honest, there are ways in which I'm still trying to learn some of them.  It's interesting given some recent life experiences and all the authenticity reading I've been doing lately.

From the mouths of babes:

"...she is so absorbed by what society has to say about her that she feels scared to accept her flaws."

"She is playing by the madding crowd's rules and is afraid to go beyond them."

"She listened to other people tell her how good of a man Boldwood is instead of forming her own opinion of him."

"The crowd also takes away her privacy and makes her nervous...this causes her to act without thinking.  Bathsheba thinks the crowd makes her comfortable and not lonely, but it actually takes away her freedom."

"Since she wants to be admired by everyone, she listens to everyone.  By listening to everyone, her opinions and feelings are changed, but falsely.  She feels things that have been warped by the minds of others, making her feelings and opinions false truths."

"Whenever a crowd is not present, the main characters have an easier time expressing their feelings without any fear of embarrassment."

"His actions are not the product of the masses around him and his thoughts come from an independend and unbiased mind.  His experiences with sheep have strongly influenced this viewpoint.  In a flock, those who blindly follow are doomed to either go through the journey of life without power and purpose or die a horrible death alongside their equally subservient brethren."

Heart. Break.

In line for a smoothie and "Unwritten" comes on and I feel hopeful tears. 

Holy shit,  life.  Gotta get this together ASAP.  Trust.  Patience.  Breath.  Peace.  

Videos

My heart is so heavy, despite my resolve to be and discover from earlier today.  Perhaps because I'm experiencing sonder.  According to the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:

sonder

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

Also, this video speaks volumes to me today:

I just random clicked on a video for the word avenoir.  And I'm all choked up because "You'd remember what home feels like and want to move there for good." 

Damnit.  Every time I think I get a taste of what home feels like, it's gone away.  And nothing gold can stay, says Frost.  But maybe Frost is a prick and damnit, gold can stay if you have the balls to hang on to it.  Or just throw it away.

Man, I'm feeling too many feels right now.   

Ephesians 1

This was on the back of another reading I pilfered from the missal a few weeks ago:

"May the God of our Lord Jesus Chris the Father of glory give you a Spirit of wisdom and revelation resulting in knowledge of him.  may the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe, in accord with the exercise of might, which he worked in Christ, raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand.."

It reminds me of what I said here the other day about listening to God speaking in my own heart.  In the last year, I've become more attuned to the language of hearts, I think.  Maybe my intuition just leveled up a notch (oh what would Eggerichs, of Love and Respect fame, say about trusting in my female intuition?!).  But I think that, with prayer and leaning on God, with some good counsel from other people, filtered and taken with a grain of salt, my heart knows what is right for me.  And what is right is what will lead me closer to Him.  The other cool side effect is that I think I've become more in tune with what is in other people's hearts and I've been blessed with a greater understanding of what is really going on.  This makes me feel a little more grounded and secure with other people, which are both things I struggle with because of a past of being used, disposable, and invalidated.  Even in the last month, I feel like I can feel inside of other people's hearts more.  Whether it's hurt or aggression or whatever, I am more confident that I'm picking up on what's in there.  Not with everyone, but in general.  The only downside is when I feel like I know what's inside and it's not making its way out.  This is helping me with my kids, too.  The word "conduit" just came into my head again.  I remember writing about this earlier this year somewhere.  Being a conduit for higher communication or understanding.  Knowing that this stuff isn't just coming from me.

It's very cool and feels like a gift... I just don't know what to do with it.  Not yet.  And like all gifts, it can be kind of heartbreaking sometimes.

I also know that God speaks to me through literature and teaching, which only makes sense.  Yesterday, I was writing about the idea of calling and the small handful of things I feel I've been called to do in life.  One of them is teaching.  So it seems logical that God would speak to my heart and lead me to His will through this calling.  It is the path by which many many blessings have come into my life, mostly in the form of people and ideas and personal growth (And laughter.  So much laughter.  Joy.  Hardship.  Gosh, everything!).

So today, he spoke to me through quotes a kid put in his essay.  Both are Dostoevsky:

"One ought to love not for a chance moment but for all time."

AND

"For people are created for happiness, and he who is completely happy can at once be deemed worthy of saying to himself: 'I have fulfilled God's commandment on this earth.'"

I'm curious about the Russian translation of "happy" and if, like in English, there are other words like joy or if the word he originally used for "happy" has other connotations.

Anyway, I'm not advocating hedonism by any stretch, but fulfillment?  Yes.  Joy?  HELL to the yes.

Turning toward our heart's truth, toward authenticity, toward God, toward joy, toward LOVE.  It's all connected.  Maybe it's even all the same thing, at the very root.  I don't know.  But I'm putting my feet to the pavement to get there and find out.

RAIN

Beauty is sun glinting off so many torrents of water rushing across the parking lot and down the sewer.  Rain water flowing through my sandals.

Tasting the Truth

From Daring Greatly by Brene Brown:

“If we’re going to find our way out of shame and back to each other, vulnerability is the path and courage is the light.  To set down those lists of what we’re supposed to be is brave.  To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly.”

Tea Bags, Notes

My tea bag tags have been speaking to me this week:

"You can't reach for anything new if your hands are still full of yesterday's junk." - Louise Smith

"Trust your own instinct.  Your mistakes may as well be your own, instead of someone else's. - Billy Wilder (which is the second time I've gotten this one recently)

And then some notes as I was going through my yellow legal pads:

From a socratic seminar: "True desires are revealed and you become more human." and "lonliness and rejection make him a monster."
Also: "It's human to want to be redeemed."
"What's the danger of not feeling worthy?"
"When your brain feels cheated, you feel angry."
"You have to be able to bear the weight of your humanity."

"Hearing this makes me want to sing Negro spirituals." -DJP

Random words from a staff meeting

I write thoughts mingled with words spoken out loud at these meetings.
They're confounding but somehow beautiful.

I'm grateful for my students' brilliance.  I'm grateful for the people I work with.  I'm grateful for embracing that which is in my heart and not denying it. There is tremendous power in owning my emotions, embracing them as real, and refusing to let anyone else tell me that they were wrong or not authentic.  I know what is in my heart and it strengthens me.  It is beautiful and true.  And it is mine to treasure, even if other people reject it, deny it, spit on it, try to invalidate it.  It's hard to discuss why someone might do that without sounding bitter, so I'll leave those thoughts to my own head.

When Jonah lists off the whole family and how he loves them he ends and says "and I love myself."  It sounds so sweet for him to say it and it makes me feel good that he loves himself, yet I'm hesitant to voice those same feelings.  But here it is, too:  I love myself.  I screw up plenty.  I have plenty of ugly in here.  But I love myself and I see the good, too.  As a steward of Higher gifts, I have to protect that good and not let my light go out the way I have seen others do.  What will we have left to give and build with if we allow ourselves to be reduced to nothing?  What good is that sacrifice?  We are called to grow our fortunes, not throw them away.  

In a place where there is so much grey area and so many gigantic question marks, I am starting to understand that there can be more than one "right path."  I am seeing how easily words can be manipulated, even holy words, to support any agenda.  Before I let my head start spinning again, like often happens when I look outside my heart for guidance, I remember that I can ask the Holy Spirit to dwell in me and help me see my path.  To shake off the other influences and listen to God speak to my heart.  Will I always hear Him right?  No way.  But is turning to Him and letting him speak to me, as an individual, in my soul-- which is the closest part of me to the divine-- instead of turning to interpretations of other humans the right thing to do?  I think it is.  Because when I listen to Him, I don't feel fear and frustration.  I don't feel trapped.  I feel hopeful and free.  It's mostly been when I allow the other noise in that my heart starts to quake and I doubt what I need and what I feel.  There's something big in this, I think.  Does this even make any sense?  Ha!

Stay tuned for posts on authenticity and manipulation, Romeo and Juliet, and a host of other things.  But not now because I feel weak and tired and unable to eat, still.  But after yesterday, I feel a little better.  It's confusing and scary, but I feel better.  I can picture strong breezes and long walks.  I can see some peace and possibility.  Scary?  Heck yes.  But my heart finally doesn't ache in my chest at the thought of summer.  There will be sadness and I know this.  But the fear is different because it's the fear of the unknown, not the fear of my further unraveling as a person.  I want another chance to be a better mom.  To get more sleep.  To grow.

Clinging

I've been hurting a lot lately, but trying to look for and savor the moments of joy amidst the pain, uncertainty, frustration. In between all of the fighting and the tears and just general awfulness, I've been turning to scripture and prayer and reflection. I only wish I had more opportunities to do so without a million interruptions. It's like I can't be with a thought or a verse long enough to let it speak to my heart before someone is complaining about something I've done wrong, asking for something, needing me, etc. And I really don't know what to do or how to carve out peace for myself in this. I was hoping to blog about all these thoughts I've been having about truth, the Holy Spirit, light in our hearts, and all this important stuff but I can't sort out the ideas. I need a loving audience to process with and I don't feel I have that. I need to write and talk and process in safety.

Anyway, tonight:

Psalms 22:14

I am poured out like water, And all my bones are out of joint; My heart is like wax; It is melted within me.

Birthday

My students were debating whether I was turning 17 or 21 tomorrow.

Forever young,  baby.

Times

Feels like every time I look at a clock it is 4:44.

Weird.

This is My Life

There was a moment today when I was balancing yoga-style on one leg in the kitchen, eating cookie dough, drinking afternoon coffee and carrying on a conversation with my husband in which he was helping me grieve the recent breaking off of an inappropriate attachment I had formed with another guy.

Beautiful in its surreality, this snapshot kind of captures the strange balance of what healthy means to me:
Taking care of each other.
Taking care of yourself.
Stretchy pants or no pants.
Facing conflict dead on like adults.
Cookie dough on a day of tears or whenever.
Coffee when you don't get to sleep.
Reaching for the phone immediately when I'm overcome by sadness.
Gratitude that the man I married can be such a good friend to me even when he is hurting.
Faith, true faith, that we will be okay no matter what happens, because the path we are on is one toward greater authenticity.
My health is my faith in listening to God's voice in my heart, my instinct, and acknowledging the truth and in trusting those more than any other social pressures or distortions.
Health is gaining more confidence by the minute.
Health is laughing to the point of tears in a conversation I feared earlier today.

My healthy is feeling:
Grateful for having blinders lifted.
Grateful for truth.
Grateful for honesty.
Grateful for seeing more and more of the true colors, because behind most rainbows, there are still clouds.  Sometimes the dazzle of the colors gets in the way.
Grateful for the size of my problems.
Grateful for moments of joy that I will carry in my heart like diamonds.

I know I've not been the greatest person ever lately.  But I also find great comfort in not hiding from the truth of it all-- good and bad-- because it will allow me to step forward with greater resolve and gratitude and joy.  No more dysfunction.  No more pussy-footin'.  Give me a life of bravery!  I'm ready to run  FLY!

This is an oddly celebratory post and I get that.  But you know what I'm learning?  The power of facing things head on is even greater than I ever realized.  The power of owning my shit and owning my shine.  I'm not callous, but real.  And this evening, I am choosing to clothe myself in strength and dignity and I am allowing Christ's mercy and peace to fill me and I am laughing at the future... which reminds me

Today these verses have been in my head and while I know I've fallen short of an ideal wife in a lot of ways, I look at this and know that I'm also doing a lot of things right.  And that those number far greater than the things I've done wrong.  I like how literally so many of these lines are true of the life I've cultivated, particularly all of the bits about doing work with hands.

10 An excellent wife, who can find?
For her worth is far above jewels.
11 The heart of her husband trusts in her,
And he will have no lack of gain.
12 She does him good and not evil
All the days of her life.
13 She looks for wool and flax
And works with her [h]hands [i]in delight.
14 She is like merchant ships;
She brings her food from afar.
15 She rises also while it is still night
And gives food to her household
And [j]portions to her maidens.
16 She considers a field and buys it;
From [k]her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She girds [l]herself with strength
And makes her arms strong.
18 She senses that her gain is good;
Her lamp does not go out at night.
19 She stretches out her hands to the distaff,
And her [m]hands grasp the spindle.
20 She [n]extends her hand to the poor,
And she stretches out her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household,
For all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for herself;
Her clothing is fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates,
When he sits among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
And [o]supplies belts to the [p]tradesmen.
25 Strength and dignity are her clothing,
And she smiles at the [q]future.
26 She opens her mouth in wisdom,
And the [r]teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
27 She looks well to the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children rise up and bless her;
Her husband also, and he praises her, saying:
29 “Many daughters have done nobly,
But you excel them all.”
30 Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain,
But a woman who [s]fears the Lord, she shall be praised.
31 Give her the [t]product of her hands,
And let her works praise her in the gates.

Pray-Writing

So, yeah, writing emails to God is pretty much amazing.  And I'm planning to write here more, too, if I can.  I have to let go of chronic hurt and rejection and allow myself to be disposable.  Because you know what, trees dispose of their seeds all the time.  And then somebody picks up that seed, carries it around for a while, and tosses it.  Then a cat walks by and the seed clings to its fur until it scratches too hard and there goes that seed again.  Over and over that little seed is picked up, held, carried around and discarded.

Sometimes it thinks it lands in a safe place, and often it is wrong.  If a seed stays in an unsafe place too long, it starts to die.  Sometimes a seed lands in safe soil, in a place where there is the right blend of light and shade, and where it's not under the drip line of other trees.  And then that seed can grow.

It sends down roots that stretch toward the heart of the earth and the very center of all Being.  It sends up shoots that reach toward God and heart-truth and life.  When the roots take hold and seed is in the right place, it will grow as the seasons see fit.  It grows in times of growth, sheds dead leaves and branches when they are dead, and is dormant in times of cold, but the seed itself is always alive.  Before long, there is a sapling trying its hands at new leaves and fresh growth.

Our seed that is discarded never knows if it's landed in its place where it will send down those roots until the roots are down and growing.  And once the tree is big enough, it's impossible to uproot completely.  Not even a tornado can tear it out entirely; not even a conflagration can stop it from regrowing.  Not when that discarded seed lands in the right place.

Yeah

Got 'em right before the storm hit!

This is the season for blossoms! 

I never was big about getting bouquets but boy do I like flowers from the yard!

First Baseball Game

Nori's first Indians' Game!

She loved every second, from dancing to yelling, to holding on to her ticket almost the entire time.

It's on

Perfect blend

This is my morning since the kids are playing so nicely and independently! Sieze the moment!  And I found some gloves I bought cheap at the end of last season!  Don't normally wear gloves but my hands are already pretty bad from yesterday.

Look at all those seeds!