Well it happened. I had just finished with my run today. Was walking down my street, and I saw two women get out of a car...wearing dresses. At first I thought they were Jehovah Witnesses visiting our landlady next door. Nope. They were my visiting teachers! I couldn't believe it. (If you didn't know, I chose to be inactive about 9 months ago. I have moved a number of times since then and have not given my current address to the church.) Well, the sweet lady told me they were our visiting teachers, and I exclaimed something horrible like "Oh god!". She quickly told me we could be just friends. Since she was so nice I decided I would have to look past my initial horror and get to know her.
Cindy and her daughter Amy. I like them, despite the fact of their current church assignment. They live a couple of houses down in another George Q. Cannon polygamist house. Cindy and her husband used to be hippies in the 70's. (That spoke my language...:))
After they left, I got to thinking. I was surprised that my knee-jerk reaction was so strong. (I think she was too...) An apology might be in order. And I was surprised that they found me. Mormons have connections I tell you. It really is my fault because my name is still on the records of the church. In fact, I can't blame them one bit. If you believed that your church saved your soul, then you also would do everything in your power to find those that were inactive, I'm sure. I guess it just surprised me because I am not sure that I want to face my issues with the church....at least not yet. I want to hide just a little bit longer. But I believe there really are no coincidences so I suppose this is not to be. You really can't run from your problems, your fears etc. They always catch up to you. And so it will begin. I will start small...like look at why visiting teaching bugs me so much.
In the short-term there are a couple of reasons for which I can be glad they found me.
1. Mormons really are some of the best community builders in the world. And they really try to look after everyone in their community. I know that I now have two visiting teachers that are concerned for my welfare, and are most likely praying for me. A little extra prayer never hurts.
2. If there were an emergency, I would be very grateful that I was living by some mormons. They have got it figured out in that arena.
3. I feel like my block is more personal now instead of these blank houses. I would even invite them to our next shindig.
4. And a new friend is always a good thing.
Afterthought: After the break-in, I had been feeling a little less safe on my block then before. I had been praying for something to come along to change that. Ironically having visiting teachers three houses down did the trick. This makes me laugh a little.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
rrrraarrrrr!
Someone broke into my roommate's house yesterday. I know that doesn't quite make sense because if she were my roommate then it would also be my house. She lives in a mother-in-law little place that is attached to my house so it feels like we are roomies.
Someone broke in through a window, that had been left open, and stole her laptop, her DVD player and her kitchen garbage can. Now the garbage can I can see, but the laptop? I mean come on... Well I'm totally pissed off about the whole thing, even though it didn't actually happen to me personally. I feel violated. Like they raped my house or something. You think you can just waltz into my house and take whatever you want? Ahhhh helllll no.... Sure the window was open, but that is not an invitation, nor an excuse for anyone to theif away. Bugged. Bugged. Bugged.
I want to live in a place where it would be totally safe to leave my front door unlocked. This has been the theme of the last week...I want there to be no more pain, no more crime, no more hurt, no more. no more. arrgh. And yet even when I say that, there is a voice that whispers of some sort of divine direction, plan going on. I guess I get the chance to learn how to forgive someone and let it go. yay.
Someone broke in through a window, that had been left open, and stole her laptop, her DVD player and her kitchen garbage can. Now the garbage can I can see, but the laptop? I mean come on... Well I'm totally pissed off about the whole thing, even though it didn't actually happen to me personally. I feel violated. Like they raped my house or something. You think you can just waltz into my house and take whatever you want? Ahhhh helllll no.... Sure the window was open, but that is not an invitation, nor an excuse for anyone to theif away. Bugged. Bugged. Bugged.
I want to live in a place where it would be totally safe to leave my front door unlocked. This has been the theme of the last week...I want there to be no more pain, no more crime, no more hurt, no more. no more. arrgh. And yet even when I say that, there is a voice that whispers of some sort of divine direction, plan going on. I guess I get the chance to learn how to forgive someone and let it go. yay.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Eating Flowers
I went to the store this morning to pick up some salad fixings for my lunch. As I was browsing amongst the various greens, mushrooms and fresh herbs, my eye caught this box of edible flowers. Edible flowers! It was crammed full of lovely white and bright pink petals. How delightful! I have always wanted to eat flowers. They just look so fresh and full of dewiness. So I inevitably bought a box, and sprinkled some on top of my lunch. It's like I am a fairy or some magical wood creature, who of course would eat something as cool as flowers.
Look at all of the varieties you can eat! This seriously made my day.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Cure for the Pain
I'm not sure why it always goes downhill
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled
I've spent ten years singing gravity away
But the water keeps on falling from the sky
And here tonight while the stars are blacking out
With every hope and dream I've ever had in doubt
I've spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
So blood is fire pulsing through our veins
We're either riders or fools behind the reigns
I've spent ten years trying to sing it all away
But the water keeps on falling from my tries
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
A lie to run, it would be a lie
It would be a lie to run away
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
Water keeps on falling from my eyes
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
(taken from the song Cure for the Pain by Jon Foreman)
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled
I've spent ten years singing gravity away
But the water keeps on falling from the sky
And here tonight while the stars are blacking out
With every hope and dream I've ever had in doubt
I've spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
So blood is fire pulsing through our veins
We're either riders or fools behind the reigns
I've spent ten years trying to sing it all away
But the water keeps on falling from my tries
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
A lie to run, it would be a lie
It would be a lie to run away
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
It keeps on falling
Water keeps on falling from my eyes
And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my lord, to suffer like you do
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
(taken from the song Cure for the Pain by Jon Foreman)
Monday, August 25, 2008
no more
my heart beats wildly
no more.
no more.
i think of her riding in the ambulance.
her stomach will need to be pumped.
no more.
no more.
the message she left on my phone plays over and over in my mind.
what more could i have done.
no more.
no more.
a sob wells up from inside.
i turn over and let my cries come.
no more.
no more.
i think of her riding in the ambulance.
her stomach will need to be pumped.
no more.
no more.
the message she left on my phone plays over and over in my mind.
what more could i have done.
no more.
no more.
a sob wells up from inside.
i turn over and let my cries come.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Shindig
So last night my roomates and I had a Shindig. (I don't even know if that word has a correct spelling. Heh, I just looked up shindig, which is how you spell it by the way, and this is what the dictionary said: refers to any sort of clever party, covered dish gathering, box social, (archaic) a brawl. Also it can refer to a dance party with lots of music. I think ours was a clever brawl with covered dishes for refreshment).
Here is a picture of the aftermath this morning. Notice the fallen tree branches that have various coverings draped across them, or pillows leaned by them. They are indeed the tree branches that nearly fell on our house about a month ago. They make great party benches and whatnot.
It was a potluck and those two tables were absolutely covered in delicious food ranging from vegan pasta dishes to organic lemon cookies.
That round terracotta thing was our fire pit. I think we had people playing the guitar around the fire until 2:00 in the morning. Which reminds me not only did everyone bring food, but instruments also. There were about 4 guitars, 6 drums, 1 tambourine, 1 harmonica, 1 spittoon/trumpet thingy, maracas, and more.
This is the lovely basket of plums our landlady (who lives next door) brought over. The lime, William from across the street carved and gifted us. He actually is a high-end chef at the Hilton. This is probably his most requested item, I'm sure....
I have seriously about 20 mosquito bites on my body. One is on my forehead making me look a little alien being all swollen and red.
I like community. I like coming together and sharing our yummies, our fun and love and all of that deliciousness.
Here is a picture of the aftermath this morning. Notice the fallen tree branches that have various coverings draped across them, or pillows leaned by them. They are indeed the tree branches that nearly fell on our house about a month ago. They make great party benches and whatnot.
It was a potluck and those two tables were absolutely covered in delicious food ranging from vegan pasta dishes to organic lemon cookies. 
That round terracotta thing was our fire pit. I think we had people playing the guitar around the fire until 2:00 in the morning. Which reminds me not only did everyone bring food, but instruments also. There were about 4 guitars, 6 drums, 1 tambourine, 1 harmonica, 1 spittoon/trumpet thingy, maracas, and more. 
This is the lovely basket of plums our landlady (who lives next door) brought over. The lime, William from across the street carved and gifted us. He actually is a high-end chef at the Hilton. This is probably his most requested item, I'm sure....I have seriously about 20 mosquito bites on my body. One is on my forehead making me look a little alien being all swollen and red.
I like community. I like coming together and sharing our yummies, our fun and love and all of that deliciousness.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Autumn
I am trying not to dread Autumn.
I really do like it,
with all of its golden colors.
The air cools.
The leaves turn and fall.
Trees flame red.
Mountains whirl in color.
It is magical.
But my eye wanders.
Looking in the distance.
Winter.
(shudder)
So I spend all of my hours outside.
Catching all the last warmth that I can.
Soaking it up.
Feeling the heat sink into my bones.
Maybe if I soak up enough,
the warmth will stay inside of me
and like magic dispel the cold.
I really do like it,
with all of its golden colors.
The air cools.
The leaves turn and fall.
Trees flame red.
Mountains whirl in color.
It is magical.
But my eye wanders.
Looking in the distance.
Winter.
(shudder)
So I spend all of my hours outside.
Catching all the last warmth that I can.
Soaking it up.
Feeling the heat sink into my bones.
Maybe if I soak up enough,
the warmth will stay inside of me
and like magic dispel the cold.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
more thoughts
Life.
yep, life.
Why are we here again?
experience.
growth.
learning.
mmm.
What if I am tired of all of the pain?
This life has too much for too many.
I'm tired of my friends being overwhelmed.
I'm tired of seeing the hurt behind their eyes.
I wish I were the wind.
I would fill my lungs till they hurt,
then with a rush of air watch all of the pain disappear
as I blew it into nonexistence.
Or maybe I could be the sea.
With every wave, each sandcastle of pain
would ebb away.
Each seaweed of hurt
would wash into oblivion.
But I am not meant to be the wind.
Nor will I become the sea.
And I am left with my own heartache.
Is there no relief?
The Sun beckons me to look up.
The Stars whisper of answers as they twinkle in the Sky.
My head tips back willing me to search.
Of their own volition my hands move.
Seeking the knots of pain I have tied.
That I have held onto for so long.
They are tight.
They won't tease free.
I won't be freed.
won't.
won't.
A cry escapes my lips.
I feel the Wind on my face.
I can smell the Sea.
My ropes begin to loosen.
Like a spring that was held back
rushes forward...
my ropes rip free.
The force burns.
My head is still tipped.
yep, life.
Why are we here again?
experience.
growth.
learning.
mmm.
What if I am tired of all of the pain?
This life has too much for too many.
I'm tired of my friends being overwhelmed.
I'm tired of seeing the hurt behind their eyes.
I wish I were the wind.
I would fill my lungs till they hurt,
then with a rush of air watch all of the pain disappear
as I blew it into nonexistence.
Or maybe I could be the sea.
With every wave, each sandcastle of pain
would ebb away.
Each seaweed of hurt
would wash into oblivion.
But I am not meant to be the wind.
Nor will I become the sea.
And I am left with my own heartache.
Is there no relief?
The Sun beckons me to look up.
The Stars whisper of answers as they twinkle in the Sky.
My head tips back willing me to search.
Of their own volition my hands move.
Seeking the knots of pain I have tied.
That I have held onto for so long.
They are tight.
They won't tease free.
I won't be freed.
won't.
won't.
A cry escapes my lips.
I feel the Wind on my face.
I can smell the Sea.
My ropes begin to loosen.
Like a spring that was held back
rushes forward...
my ropes rip free.
The force burns.
My head is still tipped.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
New Post! New Post! New Post!
I keep thinking of the movie Newsies and some little dirty-faced boy yelling "New Post! New Post! New Post!". Then I get sidetracked remembering all of those cute, singing, dancing newsboys. I'm pretty sure I had a crush on all of them when that movie came out. I'm pretty sure I still have a crush on all of them.
Speaking of Christian Bale, I saw Dark Knight this weekend and was sincerely traumatized. There is something about the bad guys using fear so...so deftly. I know it is a only a movie. But there is always some reality mirrored in our stories. To see a Villian be so careless with human life, so bent on destroying values, so lawless...was disturbing. And then to see Batman deciding to become the Dark Knight, the one blamed, the one chased. It blurs the lines between what I always thought was wrong and right, black and white. So many shades of gray.
Gray seems to be defining though. It makes you look a little closer. It makes you search inside and out to find your answers. It makes you think. It helps you take off your assumption that what everyone else is telling you is truth. In a way, the blurriness of gray can lead to a clearer black and white.
Speaking of Christian Bale, I saw Dark Knight this weekend and was sincerely traumatized. There is something about the bad guys using fear so...so deftly. I know it is a only a movie. But there is always some reality mirrored in our stories. To see a Villian be so careless with human life, so bent on destroying values, so lawless...was disturbing. And then to see Batman deciding to become the Dark Knight, the one blamed, the one chased. It blurs the lines between what I always thought was wrong and right, black and white. So many shades of gray.
Gray seems to be defining though. It makes you look a little closer. It makes you search inside and out to find your answers. It makes you think. It helps you take off your assumption that what everyone else is telling you is truth. In a way, the blurriness of gray can lead to a clearer black and white.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Dancing in the Rain
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass.
It is about dancing in the rain.
(inspired by Ann)
People say there can be beauty in storms.
My eyes seem too cloudy to see.
People say you can dance in your storm.
Dance through your rain.
Maybe.
Maybe.
maybe...
(inspired by Ann)
I feel like I am right in the middle of a storm.
Torrents of emotions flooding down with no relief.
Seems like it won't ever stop.
That it will always be raining.
My fingers are getting pruny.
Torrents of emotions flooding down with no relief.
Seems like it won't ever stop.That it will always be raining.
My fingers are getting pruny.
People say there can be beauty in storms.My eyes seem too cloudy to see.
People say you can dance in your storm.Dance through your rain.
Maybe.
Maybe.
maybe...A gross, nasty, chunky-pea-soup-colored soup of thought
I'm cranky. And I had better mention that there will probably be lots of gratuitous language in this post, so feel free not to read any further. But since my blog is, in the end, for me....I'm letting it loose. There have been a few times in my life when everything gets so overwhelming that a fuse blows in my brain. This is one of those times. And when this fuse blows, I can't think straight. I can't see clearly. I can't hear very well, and understanding is about nil. I just want to cry and scream and run away to the mountains where no one will ever see me again. Fuck becomes an overused word in my vocabulary. Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck life. Fuck you. Then the guilt wells up and I begin to feel like a shriveled nasty goblin that no one wants to be around.
Soon the self-flogging begins and I start to should all over the place. You shouldn't be saying fuck. You shouldn't be feeling guilty. You shouldn't be so cranky. No one likes you. No one loves you. It is all your fault. You will always be alone. Just go eat worms. And I begin to feel guilty for feeling guilty. And saying fuck about the fact that two minutes ago I had just said fuck.
Usually by that point someone has implied that I should just get over whatever I am cranky about. And I want to yell at them to go, well you know something to the effect of Fuck Off.
Sometimes, around this point I let myself peek at the crux of this bog of emotions. Take a side glance then quickly turn away. If I don't avert my eyes then I begin to drown. Drown in the fear that it could be true. True that I am actually unlovable. That really no one can stand me for much longer than being a distant friend. That it is all my fault. If I would just do something different, be something different, pray more, read my scriptures more somehow I would begin to feel loved. Somehow my heart would open and I could let people love me. You see deep down I know it really is all my fault. Fuck me. Then comes the despair. (I told you this was ugly). For how long have I been working on opening up my heart now? A while. It's been scary hard work. And what do I have to show for it? Well, it sure feels like a whole lot of nothing.
So fuck everything people. Fuckitty fuck fuck it all. I don't give a rat's ass anymore.
Soon the self-flogging begins and I start to should all over the place. You shouldn't be saying fuck. You shouldn't be feeling guilty. You shouldn't be so cranky. No one likes you. No one loves you. It is all your fault. You will always be alone. Just go eat worms. And I begin to feel guilty for feeling guilty. And saying fuck about the fact that two minutes ago I had just said fuck.
Usually by that point someone has implied that I should just get over whatever I am cranky about. And I want to yell at them to go, well you know something to the effect of Fuck Off.
Sometimes, around this point I let myself peek at the crux of this bog of emotions. Take a side glance then quickly turn away. If I don't avert my eyes then I begin to drown. Drown in the fear that it could be true. True that I am actually unlovable. That really no one can stand me for much longer than being a distant friend. That it is all my fault. If I would just do something different, be something different, pray more, read my scriptures more somehow I would begin to feel loved. Somehow my heart would open and I could let people love me. You see deep down I know it really is all my fault. Fuck me. Then comes the despair. (I told you this was ugly). For how long have I been working on opening up my heart now? A while. It's been scary hard work. And what do I have to show for it? Well, it sure feels like a whole lot of nothing.
So fuck everything people. Fuckitty fuck fuck it all. I don't give a rat's ass anymore.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Thoughts
Cherish your vision; Cherish your ideals; Cherish the music that stirs in your heart. The beauty that forms in your mind. The loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts. If you remain true to them, your world will at last be built. James Allen
Cherish is a cool word. It rolls in your mouth hinting at a delicious savor ending in an apple-bite crunch, flavor bursting.
(This photo was taken by Paco Hadley's mother in Oregon. She is a photo snapper. I think every second of that trip is logged in her camera. But this photo reminds me of the peaceful, delightful, relishing moments of life.)
(This photo was taken by Paco Hadley's mother in Oregon. She is a photo snapper. I think every second of that trip is logged in her camera. But this photo reminds me of the peaceful, delightful, relishing moments of life.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)