Like a bright camera flash, lightning illuminated the living room window, then rolls of thunder growled in to join the springtime storm. Weather's been weird lately- but I think it was absolutely magical to wake up to several inches of puffy, white snow on Monday, and bone-chilling rain isn't as bad as the adjectives make it out to be.
The weather has given me a chance to try out my new hiking backpack - I've been getting gear lately, let's see, I have:
*Hiking backpack
*decent sleeping bad
*Hennessy hammock
*a cool headlight
*space blanket
*water hydration pack
What else do I really need? I'd like to start buying fruits and veggies and dehydrating them, but, really, you can only plan so far in advance! Sometimes I hate planning - a lot of time can be wasted on it...
ooooh, it's loud now! It sounds like the sky is fighting with itself - as if an earthquake has shattered the firmaments into two sides and they are being forcefully clashed into each other.
I like thunderstorms- sure, some bad memories are associated with them, but incredible ones are as well. What would it be like to sleep in somewhere like Seattle or Peru in the rainy season under a tin roof?
Check out Spirit Airlines for crazy cheap flights!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
I do what I do not want...
To Do:
(and is not due)
A list that never ends-
and always needs re-writing-
redone, recycled,re-envisioned.
Nothing else is capable of spawning;
such hatred guilt waves
of remorse
A stack of useless words
given power to show me
in plain writing
that I have not done
as I wished to do.
I run away
from these
straight, English lines
--my heart does not speak English
English as a Second Language,
logic, emotion, thought as first
sensibility tells me lists
need outrank
other thoughts I think
surpass pains I feel(occasionally)
-for nothing is more real than the list
I see homework
I see projects
I see virtual posts
I see a list with all of these things
Icy rain, tufted snow
deter me from classes
and computers to type up drudgery
Give me a pen
paper'd be preferable
perhaps a book for my mind
-if you don't mind-
those would profit more
-more than homework-
see through my eyes:
we're all not the same.
What works for some drives me insane!
(and is not due)
A list that never ends-
and always needs re-writing-
redone, recycled,re-envisioned.
Nothing else is capable of spawning;
such hatred guilt waves
of remorse
A stack of useless words
given power to show me
in plain writing
that I have not done
as I wished to do.
I run away
from these
straight, English lines
--my heart does not speak English
English as a Second Language,
logic, emotion, thought as first
sensibility tells me lists
need outrank
other thoughts I think
surpass pains I feel(occasionally)
-for nothing is more real than the list
I see homework
I see projects
I see virtual posts
I see a list with all of these things
Icy rain, tufted snow
deter me from classes
and computers to type up drudgery
Give me a pen
paper'd be preferable
perhaps a book for my mind
-if you don't mind-
those would profit more
-more than homework-
see through my eyes:
we're all not the same.
What works for some drives me insane!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
As of Lately...
I've been;
#1 dreaming a TON; realistic as always
#2 procrasstinating twice or three times as much as usual
#3 not picking back up my Lenten goals after the Spring Break slump
#4 reading for fun before bed (and learning so much!)
#5 burning half of what I bake in the oven because I forget about it
#6 writing emo songs to play along on capo 4
#7 thinking about opposites
#8 trying to understand things and people I'll probably never get
#9 wanting to see my dad
#10 not tithing
#11 using eggs in cooking again
#12 going to teach English in Lansing every Wednesday to refugees/immigrants
#13 not learning Nepali as I'd planned
#14 crushing on someone who doesn't feel the same way
#15 having sensible thoughts but writing them off
#16 almost slipping on ice because I'm so chilled
#17 not wanting to get up
#18 trying to go to bed earlier
#19 thinking about going to bed right now (and by that I mean, read, and not do my homework, ergo procrastinating some more)
#20 writing less
less.
#1 dreaming a TON; realistic as always
#2 procrasstinating twice or three times as much as usual
#3 not picking back up my Lenten goals after the Spring Break slump
#4 reading for fun before bed (and learning so much!)
#5 burning half of what I bake in the oven because I forget about it
#6 writing emo songs to play along on capo 4
#7 thinking about opposites
#8 trying to understand things and people I'll probably never get
#9 wanting to see my dad
#10 not tithing
#11 using eggs in cooking again
#12 going to teach English in Lansing every Wednesday to refugees/immigrants
#13 not learning Nepali as I'd planned
#14 crushing on someone who doesn't feel the same way
#15 having sensible thoughts but writing them off
#16 almost slipping on ice because I'm so chilled
#17 not wanting to get up
#18 trying to go to bed earlier
#19 thinking about going to bed right now (and by that I mean, read, and not do my homework, ergo procrastinating some more)
#20 writing less
less.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Martyrs and Wonder
This morning started off wonderfully.
Maybe you're tempted to skip my next paragraph and see if my closing line says, "but it ended terribly". Well, I'll take away the suspense: it's still wonderful.
Ron, a great guy who I memorize Colossians 3 with, brought me a peanut butter cookie and some encouraging insight from the Word (Hebrews especially)!
Oh, I forgot that last night ended terrifically; I cracked open my tasty apple spice tea and found a note from a grand friend of mine, Jimmy, with some encouragement about true wisdom and understanding, from the book of Job.
After seeing Ron dressed in shorts and raving about the temperature I had to go and exchange my jeans for a polka-dotted dress (who can resist that temptation!?)
I went to the ESL class in Lansing - I'll have to write more about that later - it was spectacular!
WAVE (Worship Arts Vesper Experience) was very refreshing - Paul Patton spoke about the martyrs, Polycarp of Smyrna in particular...
Maybe you're tempted to skip my next paragraph and see if my closing line says, "but it ended terribly". Well, I'll take away the suspense: it's still wonderful.
Ron, a great guy who I memorize Colossians 3 with, brought me a peanut butter cookie and some encouraging insight from the Word (Hebrews especially)!
Oh, I forgot that last night ended terrifically; I cracked open my tasty apple spice tea and found a note from a grand friend of mine, Jimmy, with some encouragement about true wisdom and understanding, from the book of Job.
After seeing Ron dressed in shorts and raving about the temperature I had to go and exchange my jeans for a polka-dotted dress (who can resist that temptation!?)
I went to the ESL class in Lansing - I'll have to write more about that later - it was spectacular!
WAVE (Worship Arts Vesper Experience) was very refreshing - Paul Patton spoke about the martyrs, Polycarp of Smyrna in particular...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
A Weekend to Remember
I've been putting off writing about last weekend; perhaps because I've written so much about it already, or perhaps because it was of such ineffable nature it is defying my petty words. In any case, here is a bit of what touched me, a mere nine pages ago;
bluesy rhythms dictate the tapping of shiny black shoes, as a soulful, half-smiling, saxophonist works his charm; "I'm getting sentimental over you". Likely, the song is working in reverse for most of his audience, and I smile as I snatch glimpses of others' reactions: Charlene with rain-boots crossed, fingers laced and a wistful look in her eyes; Andy with his fingers interwoven to rest his strong chin on as his broad shoulders prohibit anyone too big from claiming the seat next to him. Two older ladies sit on my left; one had been here reading before we ever entered the doors with sax and stand, speakers and (somewhere) sheet music. Her reading had disappeared to be replaced with the unanimous listening ear, attentive eyes, and tapping feet.
eyelashes that cast shadows on his cheekbones; dressed like an emperor penguin in blacks and whites. The slight bend of his knees reflect the impassioned tilts of his head, climbing up and down scales like the Tracy's precarious ladder as he retrieved the skis, but an hour earlier. "Foolish Heart"." Are all saxophone songs sensuous? I can see the flow of air increase through his cheeks as the music swells to mezzaforte. He would close his eyes and enlist his heart to play tunes through tumultuous times. A magenta wall is his backdrop, dusty peach blossom ones close us in as breathy saxophone sounds surround us.
I know, I know that's enough description, and plenty of adjectives to feed an army - but the moment so swept me up. Maybe that's all I can share right now.
bluesy rhythms dictate the tapping of shiny black shoes, as a soulful, half-smiling, saxophonist works his charm; "I'm getting sentimental over you". Likely, the song is working in reverse for most of his audience, and I smile as I snatch glimpses of others' reactions: Charlene with rain-boots crossed, fingers laced and a wistful look in her eyes; Andy with his fingers interwoven to rest his strong chin on as his broad shoulders prohibit anyone too big from claiming the seat next to him. Two older ladies sit on my left; one had been here reading before we ever entered the doors with sax and stand, speakers and (somewhere) sheet music. Her reading had disappeared to be replaced with the unanimous listening ear, attentive eyes, and tapping feet.
eyelashes that cast shadows on his cheekbones; dressed like an emperor penguin in blacks and whites. The slight bend of his knees reflect the impassioned tilts of his head, climbing up and down scales like the Tracy's precarious ladder as he retrieved the skis, but an hour earlier. "Foolish Heart"." Are all saxophone songs sensuous? I can see the flow of air increase through his cheeks as the music swells to mezzaforte. He would close his eyes and enlist his heart to play tunes through tumultuous times. A magenta wall is his backdrop, dusty peach blossom ones close us in as breathy saxophone sounds surround us.
I know, I know that's enough description, and plenty of adjectives to feed an army - but the moment so swept me up. Maybe that's all I can share right now.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
It's not Thanksgiving, but there're so many thanks to be given!
Stripped of my journal, Bible, and The Confessions I am left with myself, and too many scrambled thoughts.
How can I expect to understand people when I am still baffled by my own behavior, and only beginning to understand myself?
Why do we yearn so deeply for the things we forbid ourselves?
Is the way that seems deeper always the darker?
Yup - I was very honest in saying I had a lot on my mind.
Met a bona-fide hippie today - Al, Jimmy's dad- we had a lot in common (un?)surprisingly. Alternative building, organic food, mild vendettas against Monsanto, an appreciation for Thomas Merton, garlic and veggie stir-frys, Christian meditation, strong convictions on three quarters to 7/8 of everything under the sun.
Some people drain others with their presence, getting to talk to Al was so energizing though - there's not a whole lot of "adult" talk to be had among a homogeneous group of Spring Arbor Sheeple. (To put it in a slightly cynical and over-critical light).
Andy, Trevor, Charlene, Jimmy and I sat on a ying-yang rug eating our stir-fry off the one plate (stacked atop several books) in the center. Before digging in to tasty pine nuts and onions, peppers and broccoli, we took the opportunity to pray (holding hands of course, which is how everyone would pray and talk if I had my way, at least a good more deal than we do now!)I feel the prayer really did consecrate our hearts to God; and I've rarely felt so connected to my brothers and sisters as I did in that moment, eating the same food off the same plate, even gingerly inserting a forkful in Jimmy's mouth (upon which Andy recalled the SpringHill method of feeding a friend at the first meal), listening to the same Rumi poetry of love and reeds. I could eat on the floor, sharing one plate far more often.
Later, dark chocolate ghiradelli chips tickled our tastebuds, as intellectual conversation stimulated our minds. Back to back sitting, Indian leg wrestling, and off-balance arm-thrusting occured over that same carpet. Why does it take someone so much older to show us the fun found in simplicity; we the generation who settles for multi-player games on our fancy cell phones. There's a comfort that's very present among this group of people. A group of everything bagel, resuscitated honey, Bengal Spice tea, molasses cookies, mediative music, haybale, peanut butter toast, cross country ski, others... et al...lovers - I believe that's how I'd describe us.
And I'm thankful- thankful for gifted musicians who smile (even while they play), coffee shops with inspiring signs, moms and papas, cawwing crows, abandoned flour mills, night-time walks in 1 degree weather (and those who are willing to take them), kindred spirits/or likeminded people-whichever you name them, friends to keep me warm on cold nights, hands to hold when my fingers are frozen, a Bible to read aloud and be transformed by, crazy kittens and friendly dogs who will lick your socks or cheeks, camraderie and familiarity, friendship seasoned with mystery, the questions asked and the evolving answers, board games and mind games, intelligent minds to play them with, common ground, good stories, generous friends, hospitable family, future adventures, open honesty, curiosity simultaneously quenched and awakened, perceptions perceived false, Zorro, wise fathers, cozy car rides, high speed sledding, exquisite, painted sunset skies and those to share them with.
How can I expect to understand people when I am still baffled by my own behavior, and only beginning to understand myself?
Why do we yearn so deeply for the things we forbid ourselves?
Is the way that seems deeper always the darker?
Yup - I was very honest in saying I had a lot on my mind.
Met a bona-fide hippie today - Al, Jimmy's dad- we had a lot in common (un?)surprisingly. Alternative building, organic food, mild vendettas against Monsanto, an appreciation for Thomas Merton, garlic and veggie stir-frys, Christian meditation, strong convictions on three quarters to 7/8 of everything under the sun.
Some people drain others with their presence, getting to talk to Al was so energizing though - there's not a whole lot of "adult" talk to be had among a homogeneous group of Spring Arbor Sheeple. (To put it in a slightly cynical and over-critical light).
Andy, Trevor, Charlene, Jimmy and I sat on a ying-yang rug eating our stir-fry off the one plate (stacked atop several books) in the center. Before digging in to tasty pine nuts and onions, peppers and broccoli, we took the opportunity to pray (holding hands of course, which is how everyone would pray and talk if I had my way, at least a good more deal than we do now!)I feel the prayer really did consecrate our hearts to God; and I've rarely felt so connected to my brothers and sisters as I did in that moment, eating the same food off the same plate, even gingerly inserting a forkful in Jimmy's mouth (upon which Andy recalled the SpringHill method of feeding a friend at the first meal), listening to the same Rumi poetry of love and reeds. I could eat on the floor, sharing one plate far more often.
Later, dark chocolate ghiradelli chips tickled our tastebuds, as intellectual conversation stimulated our minds. Back to back sitting, Indian leg wrestling, and off-balance arm-thrusting occured over that same carpet. Why does it take someone so much older to show us the fun found in simplicity; we the generation who settles for multi-player games on our fancy cell phones. There's a comfort that's very present among this group of people. A group of everything bagel, resuscitated honey, Bengal Spice tea, molasses cookies, mediative music, haybale, peanut butter toast, cross country ski, others... et al...lovers - I believe that's how I'd describe us.
And I'm thankful- thankful for gifted musicians who smile (even while they play), coffee shops with inspiring signs, moms and papas, cawwing crows, abandoned flour mills, night-time walks in 1 degree weather (and those who are willing to take them), kindred spirits/or likeminded people-whichever you name them, friends to keep me warm on cold nights, hands to hold when my fingers are frozen, a Bible to read aloud and be transformed by, crazy kittens and friendly dogs who will lick your socks or cheeks, camraderie and familiarity, friendship seasoned with mystery, the questions asked and the evolving answers, board games and mind games, intelligent minds to play them with, common ground, good stories, generous friends, hospitable family, future adventures, open honesty, curiosity simultaneously quenched and awakened, perceptions perceived false, Zorro, wise fathers, cozy car rides, high speed sledding, exquisite, painted sunset skies and those to share them with.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Orthodox Questions
Some questions about Orthoxy
*Ever-virgin Mary... so Jesus' brother James is just from a previous marriage of
Joseph or something?
*Eastern Christians believe both the Spirit and the Son have their origin in the
Father – so what is their view on the trinity- are the persons of God unequal?
*Does one have to be a member of the orthodox church to go to heaven?
*What is the significance of the priest and sacraments?
*Where does saving grace come from?
*Is “holy tradition” really of equal importance as the word of God?
*Veneration of icons- where did the apostles (since Orthodoxy supposedly didn't
change anything and are the most original church) kiss icons or have them at all?
*Also the icons are not accurate representations of what Jesus wore or looked like-
so where did they originate?
*one thing I like a little, maybe, I think: gradual life-long salvation- however,
what about the thief on the cross? or verses like "believe on the name of the lord
and thou shalt be saved?"
*Ever-virgin Mary... so Jesus' brother James is just from a previous marriage of
Joseph or something?
*Eastern Christians believe both the Spirit and the Son have their origin in the
Father – so what is their view on the trinity- are the persons of God unequal?
*Does one have to be a member of the orthodox church to go to heaven?
*What is the significance of the priest and sacraments?
*Where does saving grace come from?
*Is “holy tradition” really of equal importance as the word of God?
*Veneration of icons- where did the apostles (since Orthodoxy supposedly didn't
change anything and are the most original church) kiss icons or have them at all?
*Also the icons are not accurate representations of what Jesus wore or looked like-
so where did they originate?
*one thing I like a little, maybe, I think: gradual life-long salvation- however,
what about the thief on the cross? or verses like "believe on the name of the lord
and thou shalt be saved?"
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