What do you do when you can't do anything
What do you do when you can't go on
What do you do when it all seems hopeless
You keep marching and marching and marching along.
Cheery thought. I need a martini.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Larry Lives!!
Fans will recall an earlier post about Larry, the Zombie Mouse, Leader of the Ravaging Hoard of four-legged fur butts that call my house their own.
Well, I successfully waged war on the furry hoard and they have retreated from the field. But Larry lives. He has taken to darting from the living room, across the kitchen floor, and into the wall space behind the stove. Always at 6:00 a.m. when I am at my most vulnerable.
At least I think that's where he goes. I see him start from the living room. I know he makes it to the roll-away dishwasher in the middle of the kitchen. But he always seems to disappear after that.
Unless he is taking a ride in the old pizza box that I keep forgetting is stuck under the dishwasher, he is disappearing into an unknown black hole. An alternative verminous dimension where he is the king.
He taunts me. His furry little sprint is just to show me he has no fear. (Although he does move dang quick when he catches my eye.)
He has thrown down the gauntlet of startlement. He messes with me before I have had coffee.
This means war.
Well, I successfully waged war on the furry hoard and they have retreated from the field. But Larry lives. He has taken to darting from the living room, across the kitchen floor, and into the wall space behind the stove. Always at 6:00 a.m. when I am at my most vulnerable.
At least I think that's where he goes. I see him start from the living room. I know he makes it to the roll-away dishwasher in the middle of the kitchen. But he always seems to disappear after that.
Unless he is taking a ride in the old pizza box that I keep forgetting is stuck under the dishwasher, he is disappearing into an unknown black hole. An alternative verminous dimension where he is the king.
He taunts me. His furry little sprint is just to show me he has no fear. (Although he does move dang quick when he catches my eye.)
He has thrown down the gauntlet of startlement. He messes with me before I have had coffee.
This means war.
The Rain Came Down, Chapter 1
Here is the intro to my new story: "And the Rain Came Down"
She remembered how her heart stopped beating. Her breath caught in her throat and never left her body.
Time just stopped flowing and all that was left was the image in front of her, burned into her brain. The sight of her husband, looking physically crushed by the weight of the burden he had to pass on to her.
It was difficult when all things stopped. He was frozen in time, the words choked out, the deed done. No going back. Sean was gone, he said. An accident, he said. Something about the boy’s bike, no helmet, a car.
Her husband couldn’t get all the words out before time stopped. She felt sad for him. It was obviously important, what he had to say. It wasn’t fair time stopped him in midsentence. He was forced to hold it all in.
She looked around the room. Everyone there was frozen, her mother, the policewoman, all of them.
She turned and walked to the kitchen and realized it was silent. No humming refrigerator, no fan, no clinking ice maker. She realized the water wouldn’t flow from the tap in the sink. So she put down the glass she had taken from the cupboard. No use trying to get a drink.
Her favorite window over the sink showed a frozen moment of a perfect summer day; a bird on approach to the bird feeder, a bumblebee laboring toward a potted rose in the planter under the window. They were motionless, suspended. She smiled. She wanted to go outside and look at things. To walk in this lost time. She wrapped the stillness around her like an old fuzzy robe, warm from the dryer.
But then she heard the thunder. Zeus clapped his hands right over her head. The sound split her in two and she felt the rain, a deluge, pouring over her, so cold. She couldn’t see through it and her outstretched hands groped for the counter. But it was too much rain. The thunder exploded again and she fell to her knees. The rain fell and time flowed. She heard the thunder screaming, screaming her son’s name and she melted into nothing. And the rain came falling down.
She remembered how her heart stopped beating. Her breath caught in her throat and never left her body.
Time just stopped flowing and all that was left was the image in front of her, burned into her brain. The sight of her husband, looking physically crushed by the weight of the burden he had to pass on to her.
It was difficult when all things stopped. He was frozen in time, the words choked out, the deed done. No going back. Sean was gone, he said. An accident, he said. Something about the boy’s bike, no helmet, a car.
Her husband couldn’t get all the words out before time stopped. She felt sad for him. It was obviously important, what he had to say. It wasn’t fair time stopped him in midsentence. He was forced to hold it all in.
She looked around the room. Everyone there was frozen, her mother, the policewoman, all of them.
She turned and walked to the kitchen and realized it was silent. No humming refrigerator, no fan, no clinking ice maker. She realized the water wouldn’t flow from the tap in the sink. So she put down the glass she had taken from the cupboard. No use trying to get a drink.
Her favorite window over the sink showed a frozen moment of a perfect summer day; a bird on approach to the bird feeder, a bumblebee laboring toward a potted rose in the planter under the window. They were motionless, suspended. She smiled. She wanted to go outside and look at things. To walk in this lost time. She wrapped the stillness around her like an old fuzzy robe, warm from the dryer.
But then she heard the thunder. Zeus clapped his hands right over her head. The sound split her in two and she felt the rain, a deluge, pouring over her, so cold. She couldn’t see through it and her outstretched hands groped for the counter. But it was too much rain. The thunder exploded again and she fell to her knees. The rain fell and time flowed. She heard the thunder screaming, screaming her son’s name and she melted into nothing. And the rain came falling down.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Sins and fears
There was an interesting homily on Sunday about the sin of shame. Father Odo (no, he is not from Deep Space Nine)spoke about using your fear and sense of shame to keep you from acknowledging a wrong you had done, a wrong to yourself or others, and it really got me thinking.
The things we do to ourselves, the choices we make, are the most pain-full and often we don't even realize how bad we hurt. It is easy to focus on the injustice from another and to nurture a resentment or a lifetime of resentments based on one incident.
But I started to look at myself and all the injustices, the fears, the guilt, the negative talk, that I heap on myself each day like business-as-usual. And I realized how much pain I feel because I am afraid to talk about these things. Not only am I afraid to talk about them, I am afraid to change. I will keeping stabbing myself with sad choices rather than feel the pain of postive change. Changing hurts. It means really looking at yourself and acknowledging that something in you is broken. It hurts to mend, to repair, to slip-up and have to start all over.
But the sermon really got me thinking about how my fear and shame of bad choices are the real demon in my life. I isolate myself from those who care most because I am too embarrassed to admit I am not strong in some things. I am afraid I will lose their friendship if I share my fears. So I step back first and lose them for sure. Brilliant.
I believe a sin is anything you put up between yourself and God. A sin is something that keeps you from having a connection with the divine. And you can best experience that connection when you love yourself. So if I trust that I am worth loving. If I believe in my faith and accept that nothing is so bad it can't be forgiven by a greater love than there is nothing I need to be ashamed of. There are only things I need to mend, I need to change, I need to let go.
One of the best quotes I ever read said, "Resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." I am tired of resenting my "enemies", tired of resenting myself for all my faults. Tired of resenting life for being so painfull.
I am going to call my friends and tell them what is going on. Let them know that it isn't about them, it is something I have done to myself. And I am going to believe that I can survive my choices, good or bad, that I am worth divine love.
I think it's time for a cup of coffee. Here's to happier times.
The things we do to ourselves, the choices we make, are the most pain-full and often we don't even realize how bad we hurt. It is easy to focus on the injustice from another and to nurture a resentment or a lifetime of resentments based on one incident.
But I started to look at myself and all the injustices, the fears, the guilt, the negative talk, that I heap on myself each day like business-as-usual. And I realized how much pain I feel because I am afraid to talk about these things. Not only am I afraid to talk about them, I am afraid to change. I will keeping stabbing myself with sad choices rather than feel the pain of postive change. Changing hurts. It means really looking at yourself and acknowledging that something in you is broken. It hurts to mend, to repair, to slip-up and have to start all over.
But the sermon really got me thinking about how my fear and shame of bad choices are the real demon in my life. I isolate myself from those who care most because I am too embarrassed to admit I am not strong in some things. I am afraid I will lose their friendship if I share my fears. So I step back first and lose them for sure. Brilliant.
I believe a sin is anything you put up between yourself and God. A sin is something that keeps you from having a connection with the divine. And you can best experience that connection when you love yourself. So if I trust that I am worth loving. If I believe in my faith and accept that nothing is so bad it can't be forgiven by a greater love than there is nothing I need to be ashamed of. There are only things I need to mend, I need to change, I need to let go.
One of the best quotes I ever read said, "Resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." I am tired of resenting my "enemies", tired of resenting myself for all my faults. Tired of resenting life for being so painfull.
I am going to call my friends and tell them what is going on. Let them know that it isn't about them, it is something I have done to myself. And I am going to believe that I can survive my choices, good or bad, that I am worth divine love.
I think it's time for a cup of coffee. Here's to happier times.
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