Saturday, December 24, 2005

A Christmas Present to Me from the Universe

In the morning, I went up to the rec center to work out. There was Joe's car in the parking lot. He and his little girl were there swimming. When they were leaving, all wet and bundled up, they stopped in the workout room to say hi. We chatted about nothing important. It was very nice to see him. I feel like it was a Christmas present to me from the Universe. I spent the day very happy and excited about life, because he has that effect on me -- everything's better when I hear his voice. That evening when my husband and I made love, I pretended it was him. I probably won't see him again for months. But ya know, I've had some nice times with him. I'll just have to remember those and be thankful. I've been out to dinner with him. I've sailed with him. We've been driving. I've kissed him. I've had him in my arms. So I've had what I want.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Thoughts on Heaven and Hell

We all go to the same place. What makes it heaven or hell is what we have inside us. Some of us carry heaven inside us, so every place is heaven. Some of us carry hell inside, so every place is hell.

It's like that old Chinese story. In hell, all the people are seated around a long dining table piled with delicious food. Each of them has six-foot-long chopsticks. They are all starving because the chopsticks are too long and they can’t eat. In Heaven, it is exactly the same: long table, tons of food, six-foot-long chopsticks, but everyone is well-fed and happy, because they are feeding each other.

I've been to hell, as you may recall. I spent many years there, as a matter of fact. Anger and resentment made my life hell. Time passed, the feelings gradually lessened, and afer a while I'd finally had enough of them so I completely let them go. I never want to go back to that way of being.

Lesson: what we must learn is how to make our lives here and now a heaven on earth. The virtues which do are well known -- and have been well known since before the Bible was written -- the foremost being love and forgiveness. If the Christian system gets you there, then good. If not (and it doesn't for everyone. For some, it's ruined their lives) then you must leave it behind and find something that does teach you how to create heaven here on earth.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Thoughts on the Bible as a Spiritual Guidebook

The Bible works where it encourages its followers to love and good works.

The Bible fails where it encourages hate, intolerance and fear. And yes, it most definitely encourages hate, intolerance and fear.

Where it describes a theological system, it is neutral. One's theological system doesn't matter so much except as it encourages happiness here on earth. Christians spend so much time arguing amongst themselves about the particulars of their theological system when really it doesn't matter one whit.

The Bible works where it teaches how to find happiness here on earth, and fails where it teaches otherwise.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Movie Review: Chronicles of Narnia - Lion, Witch, Wardrobe

The writers and directors did a great job of bringing the book to life. They were able to bring the story to the screen almost exactly as Lewis wrote it. There are small changes, but they enhance rather than detract. The important bits, like the death and resurrection of Aslan, are all there.

The children all did a fantastic job. Lucy is bright and plucky, Susan beautiful and valiant, Edmund deceitful then remorseful, and both he and Peter brave and handsome. Especially Peter. I'm totally in love with him, as I bet are all the females from 12 on up who've seen the movie. He does a fantastic job playing the oldest son trying to live up to the responsibility that is thrust upon him.

The show starts with a very exciting scene that explains why the four Pevensie children were on their own in a big country house -- in WWII, London children were evacuated to rural safety during the German bombing of their town. The scene where bombers fly over the Pevensie house is tremendously exciting, and obviously Peter learned something of war methods during the incident for he uses the strategy in his own battle.

The faun Tumnus was perfect. I'm in love with him second after Peter. The White Witch was not as I pictured. I did not care for her costume or make-up. Eyes and lips too pale, and why the strange ugly dress and the blonde dreadlocks? I thought of her as having skin white as snow, lips red as blood and hair as black as ebony, in no small part because that's how Lewis described her. Her character portrayal was spot-on, however. No complaints there. She was cold, cruel, proud, manipulative and a fantastic knife fighter, too. Very impressive.

I thought the Christian allegory was downplayed a little, which could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your point of view. They certainly didn't hit us over the head with the fact that Aslan was the True King. I thought some important lines were left out, but my daughter Rhiannon tells me they worked them in in other places. Did I miss the Beavers saying, "He's the King of the wood, the son of the great Emperor-Over-Sea" or did they just not say it? How about Father Christmas saying, "Long live the true King!" And Lucy asking, "Is he safe?" with the Beaver's reply, "Safe? Of course he isn't safe, but he's good." And especially, "He's not a tame lion."

Aslan's death scene was very moving and intense, though less intense that it could have been. Lewis didn't mention blood, but surely an allegory of Christ's death isn't complete without it. Aslan should have been lying in a puddle of blood and it should have been dripping down the sides of the Stone Table. But maybe that would have tipped the movie into a PG-13 rating, which perhaps the movie should have had anyway. I don't recommend this movie for young children. It has scary battle sequences and frightening moments.

I'm happy to report that the movie has more action than the book. We get a good look at some of the things that Lewis mentions only briefly -- like the wolves going after the Beavers and the big final battle scene itself. There is a great scene of the children crossing the thawing river while pursued by the Witch's wolves -- not technically in the book but it fits right in, and we get to see Peter be heroic, too. Sadly, Peter's very first battle, him against the wolf captain, wasn't well portrayed. It was pathetic, as a matter of fact. Peter doesn't do anything but hold his sword out until the wolf jumps on it.

I could do more nitpicking, but I won't. Bottom line -- excellent character portrayals, exciting action, slight changes to the pure storyline that add rather than detract, Christian allegory downplayed but not omitted -- all in all it's a great story nicely told. And did I mention that I'm in love with Peter?

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Christmas Party

David's employer took everyone out for Christmas dinner. It was so nice to see everyone again. I haven't seen them in years -- since they left David's shop to start their own. We met at Jamie's, chatted over wine and cheese, then went to an expensive French restaurant. I had a marvelous time. They all hugged me when I got there, and we all hugged again when we left.

Joan and I talked about our kids, of course. We both have three, and we were pregnant at about the same time with all of them. We talked about what it's been like all these years. It makes me think how important long-term relationships are. They make you feel stable and connected. I hardly have any long-term relationships. Because I don't do relationships. I don't know how. I am afraid, and I just don't care.

Many times I'm very happy by myself. But sometimes I get lonely. That's when I wish I were better at making and keeping friends.

Christmas Party

David's employer took everyone out for Christmas dinner. It was so nice to see everyone again. I haven't seen them in years -- since they left David's shop to start their own. We met at Jamie's, chatted over wine and cheese, then went to an expensive French restaurant. I had a marvelous time. They all hugged me when I got there, and we all hugged again when we left.

Joan and I talked about our kids, of course. We both have three, and we were pregnant at about the same time with all of them. We talked about what it's been like all these years. It makes me think how important long-term relationships are. They make you feel stable and connected. I hardly have any long-term relationships. Because I don't do relationships. I don't know how. I am afraid, and I just don't care.

Many times I'm very happy by myself. But sometimes I get lonely. That's when I wish I were better at making and keeping friends.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Affirmations

I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse.

Over and over I write this. and as I do, the pit of fear in my stomach grows. I AM afraid of people; I DON'T easily converse. I sit with the fear for a minute, feeling it, and as I do, it dissipates.

I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse.

The fear returns. The truth is, I am afraid of conversing, afraid of speaking, afraid of not having anything to say and looking foolish. It is a valid fear, but one can be resolved with some preparation. I know what to do -- discuss the news, remember a story about myself, share a joke. I CAN do it, but not off-the-cuff. I have to prepare.

I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse. I am not afraid of people; I easily converse.

Yes, maybe I can.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

A Jeans Jacket with Black Velvet Sleeves

That's what I'm wearing today, with jeans and a white lowcut t-shirt. I look pretty damn good, which admittedly is easy when you're wearing what I'm wearing. There's not too much that's cooler than a jeans jacket with black velvet sleeves.

Monday, November 14, 2005

We're Walking to the End of the Beach

It was a busy family time down in Sarasota, but Don and I found time to walk on the beach on Siesta Key after the sun went down. One should always find time to walk on the beach. Our last night was wonderful -- hand in hand, on powdered sugar sand, a full moon overhead, pale clouds drifting by, the dark shape of a heron in the shallow water. We walked for an hour. It wasn't so much romantic as companionable in a very deep and intimate way. "We should walk to the end of the beach sometime," said Don, and I thought what an incredible metaphor that was. The beach is our life together. We're walking hand in hand, and we're committed together going all the way to the end. I haven't always wanted to do that, as a matter of fact for many years I've been waiting for the right time and place to leave this beach. Things have changed though; I no longer feel that way. Now I want to walk hand in hand with Don to the end of our beach.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

A letter from a Marine who died in Iraq

Cpl. Jeffrey B. Starr, First Battalion of the Fifth Marine Regiment, died in a firefight in Ramadi on April 30, 2005, during his third tour in Iraq. He was 22. This letter was found on his laptop, to be delivered to his girlfriend in the case of his death.

"Obviously if you are reading this then I have died in Iraq. I kind of predicted this, that is why I'm writing this in November. A third time just seemed like I'm pushing my chances. I don't regret going, everybody dies but few get to do it for something as important as freedom. It may seem confusing why we are in Iraq, it's not to me. I'm here helping these people, so that they can live the way we live. Not have to worry about tyrants or vicious dictators. To do what they want with their lives. To me that is why I died. Others have died for my freedom, now this is my mark."

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

The Death of Pheasants

Boiled up three pheasants last night with the goal of making pheasant with dumplings. Don's friend Todd shot many many of them on a hunting trip and now we get the fruits of his labors, such as they are. As I cleaned them in the sink I thought about their deaths. It must have been pretty scary for them in that field that day, with all the yelling and tromping and gunshots. The shot drives their feathers into their flesh, pokes their bodies full of little holes and breaks their bones. One of the pheasant was shot at pretty close range. Its body was a mess -- not much left of the breast on the left side. This is what it means to be shot to hell, I guess. The chicken we buy in the store is so so clean. We even buy it deboned now, which removes us yet another step from the fact that this was a living creature. It's more obvious what you are eating when you have to pick the shot out, break its leg joint with your hands to get the claw off because the joint is too tough to cut through, and remove bits of lung tissue and heart. Life feeds on life, says Joseph Campbell. It's one of the mysteries of this life. I live because it died. Thank you, pheasant, for what you have given me.

Friday, October 28, 2005

They Love the Sound of Their Own Voices

I'm listening to a Stanford college lecture through iTunes called "Leading the Good Life: Lessons from the Greeks." It reminds me of one of the things I hated about college -- the long-winded professors. This guy's got one hour to get through his lecture. He's told us in his introduction that he's going to cover five important philosophies. He's still making the introduction, though, and it's 15 minutes into the lecture. He's told us what he's going to do immediately after the lecture. He's told us how important this lecture is going to be to us. He's told us how we all want to lead the good life. But he's only just beginning to get to the substance of the lecture. And to think I had to spend $600 per credit hour for this blather when I was an undergraduate.

Monday, October 17, 2005

My Own Little Shoplifter

Kendall turned 18 in April. In May, she was caught shoplifting. She had to pay $200 to the store, and she has a court date, too. (And since she doesn't have a job, it means that I had to pay $200 to the store. She promises to pay me back, but realistically, I don't think my chances are very good.)

From the Colorado Revised Statutes: "Concealment of goods is commonly referred to as 'shoplifting.' If a person conceals unpurchased goods owned by, held by, or offered by a store for sale, whether the concealment is on his/her body or somewhere else, he/she may be charged as having intended to commit the crime of theft (18-4-406). An adult or an emancipated minor who takes possession of any merchandise from any store without having paid for it will not only be responsible for paying the actual price of the item, but also a fine paid to the owner of the store for not less than $100 and no more than $250. The parents of any unemancipated minor will be responsible for paying not only for the stolen item, but also he fine to the owner of the store (13-21-107.5(2-3))."

Thrift Story Junkie

That's me. I love popping in to the neighborhood thrift store on my lunch break or after work to see if I can score a treasure. Everything's so affordable that I can indulge my urge to shop without running up huge bills. I can indulge clothing whims, too, quite affordably. One season I decided I was only going to wear skirts and so I did. The downside of all this is that I have a ton of clothes. My closet and dressers are bulging. Somehow a whole bunch of clothes spilled out of my closet yesterday and lay there in a huge pile. I wasn't sure how to get it back in so I put the pile on my bed. It will probably move back and forth from my floor to my bed to my floor for a few days until I finally have time to purge the closet and dresser and find room for it all.

The moon was beautiful this morning. It's full. It was almost directly ahead of Mel and me as we drove west into town. Behind us, the sun had just come up. The moon hung over the western mountain range for a few moments, looking huge and bright against the dark morning sky, then slipped away behind the mountains, moving so quickly we could see it sinking. Smaller, smaller, just a tiny bright sparkle, then gone.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Hurricane Katrina/George W. Bush

"Is there any problem in the world that is not Mr. Bush's fault, or have we reverted to a belief in a sort of witchcraft where we credit a mortal man with the ability to create terrifying storms and every other kind of ill wind?" -- Ben Stein

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Dinner and a Movie

Don and I went to Joe's apartment for dinner -- tilapa, tortellini and homemade ice-cream -- and a movie -- Brazil. The three of us are starting to hang around together a little bit more, which is quite interesting. I was so in love with Joe a couple years ago, if you'll recall. Still am, a little, from afar. At one point in the evening, while the two of them were in the kitchen, I looked over from the couch and thought, "There are the two men that I love." Then Joe came into the front room and we smiled at each other, very sweetly. Back at home, Don said I looked so pretty that evening and said, "I wonder if Joe thinks I'm lucky."

"You are lucky," I said.

Yes, it is nice to be all together. I certainly hope that no one suggests a menage a trois. Yes, I still wish I had Joe in my arms, but I also think sex is sacred. I wouldn't want to go that far.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Death is My Lover

Death is my lover. He wants me deeply, intensely. He loves the way I move, the way I gesture when I speak, the way I tilt my head. He can't wait to get me alone.

He comes to me at night. He whispers love words in my ear and my mind goes swirling away into dark emptiness, a pale mist dissipating in the boundless unending abyss.

Death touches me as I lie in bed, so tenderly and so gently that I can hardly feel it. But my body turns to hard dry clay and bit-by-bit in flakes and shards I crumble away.

He sits beside me in the garden. The sun is black, the roses withered, the insects tiny buzzing skeletons. Eternity weighs upon me then. It is so heavy I can't move, so loud I cannot hear.

My husband doesn't know I have another lover, one who is faithful and infinitely patient. Death waits for the day that I love him back, for the day when, in his arms, I forget all the other things I've loved.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

I want to kill myself sometimes

Sometimes I just end it all, because I don't think there are any answers to life's difficult questions.

Why are we here? Why is there death? Why does life hurt so much? I'd rather die now than wait for the incredible pain that will happen when my husband passes away. It's coming. It's coming. I'll sit by his grave one day and I'll weep.

Unless I make him sit by mine.

And honestly, I would never do that, not on purpose. (She laughs at the irony.) So I'll just sit here, enjoying the sunshine, waiting, and watching, and knowing that heartbreak is on its way.

He went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so
He was impressive, young and aggressive
Savin' the world on his own

But the warm summer breezes
The French wines and cheeses
Put his ambition at bay
The summers and winters
Scattered like splinters
And four or five years slipped away

Then he went to England, played the piano
And married an actress named Kim
They had a fine life, she was a good wife
And bore him a young son named Jim

And all of the answers and all of the questions
Locked in his attic one day
'Cause he liked the quiet clean country livin'
And twenty more years slipped away

Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his lady
And left him with only one eye
His body was battered, his whole world was shattered
And all he could do was just cry

While the tears were a-fallin' he was recallin'
Answers he never found
So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean
And left England without a sound

Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin's
And drinks his Green Label each day
Writing his memoirs, losin' his hearin'
But he don't care what most people say

Through eighty-six years of perpetual motion
If he likes you he'll smile and he'll say
'Jimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But I had a good life all the way'

And he went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so.
by Jimmy Buffet

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Is Dumbledore Alive?

Probably not. The phoenix sang a song of mourning, remember, and Dumbledore's picture now hangs in his own office.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Hard Edges

I spent a bit of time with my cousin's wife. She's pretty, kinda, and blonde, and isn't afraid to speak her mind. She has hard edges, though, and being with her made me more aware of the kind of person I want to be. I want to have soft edges and a firm core. I want to be a sweet, gentle person who won't be swayed from what I think is right or from the path that I have chosen.

Friday, June 24, 2005

The Program is Working!

I was all discouraged yesterday because my butt looks just as big as ever, even though I'm jogging more and working out at the gym too. I figured I might as well find out what the bad news really was, so I pulled out the tape measure and wrapped it around the ol' hips. But guess what? I'm an inch slimmer than last month. It's working! In spite of my inconsistencies in diet and exercise, it really is working!

Friday, June 17, 2005

I'm jealous

I'm jealous because K is a better photographer than I am. I'm jealous because his work has come to the notice of our head of photography, who is going to get him some freelance work. I'm jealous because K can handle it and I can't. I'm too nervous, too scared of people, too socially anxious to be in the spotlight. Could I ever handle the work, even if I got it? Probably not.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

This is funny

I watch a lot of TV.
I drink a lot of coffee, too.
But you know what's really addictive?
Heroin.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

The Tao Has No Pity

The Tao has no pity. The Tao has no face. The Tao does not hold out comforting arms. It cannot be contacted and cannot be used. It is silent and unreachable.

When one observes the actions of any of this world's gods, one sees the Tao. One sees a god with no pity and no face, a god not moved by entreaties, a god who behaves as though he is not there.

Does God exist? It doesn't matter.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

A day with Joe

I just spent an hour with Joe. He changed my headlight for me. Don's been so grumpy; I didn't want to ask him to do it. I got to see Joe's shop and we chatted for a while afterward, too. It's always nice to see him. He looked a little thin and pale. I didn't get a chance to ask him how he was doing physically. Our conversation ran this way and that but didn't go there.

Was I powerful enough? Was I bitchy enough? Did I monopolize the conversation enough? No, not enough, but I did some. So our time together was a moderate success. I don't figure I'll see him again for a long time. I'll hope, of course, as I always do, but my hopes will be dashed, as they always are. Though you know, it's not that big a deal. It's not like we're right for each other. We aren't. He's into kinky sex and drugs; I'm not. Sure, he's funny and enjoyable to be around, but I need someone who's going to listen to me talk. I don't talk that much so I don't think it's too much to ask. Just a little, thank you, with a few questions here and there to show you care.

So we're not right for each other. I still want to be friends, and I'm not going to sit around waiting for him to call. That will never happen. I'm going to take matters into my own hands and invite him over, him and his little girl, to see our bunny and meet my little nieces.

I want someone I can talk to and tease with like I do with Professor Rogers.

Later: What a wonderful, lucky day! An old wish of mine was granted -- I got to go driving with Joe.

He called in the evening to ask a favor of my husband. Joe had dropped off a customer's car and needed a ride back to his shop. My husband wasn't in so I did the favor instead. I picked him up at his apartment (and got to see his new kitten) then drove him to his shop, 30 minutes away. We chatted amicably the whole way. We talked and teased. It's a beautiful drive and it was a beautiful evening.

I've always wanted to go on a car trip with Joe. And now a wish of mine was granted.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

She's gone, and I've no idea where

I just did a stupid stupid thing. I'm a very bad mother. I let Rhiannon go visit a friend. An online friend. Who bought her a plane ticket to come see him. I don't know one thing about him. I don't know his address, or his phone number, or his chat name, or his email address. I haven't got one single bit of info to help me find him, except that he is a college student, his name is Will Ogden and he lives in Pennsylvania.

That's is. That's all I know.

I don't know where Rhiannon is.

I let Rhiannon have full control of this trip. I didn't meddle in any way. I let her be a grown-up. Now I'm paying the price through worry. I forgot that a real grownup doesn't make loved ones worry. She said she'd call but she has not. Yesterday I called the Will Ogdens in the Philadelphia area, to no avail. Tomorrow I call all the Ogdens in Pennsylvania.

Monday, May 30, 2005

Back from camping. We went for one night only as Rhiannon needs to get ready for her trip to Pennsylvania tomorrow. What a traveler she's become! And what a great time we had with the SCA. Weather was good, up till Sunday afternoon when we left. Our garb was great. We knitted. We met people. We stargazed. We watched the archery and the heavy fighting. I learned to juggle. We had a blast.

We became better friends with the Wardens and made plans to form an encampment with them at Talons of Fury in September. We'll have our own roaring campfire and entertain one another with medieval games, stories and songs. Our camp will be a thing of beauty, ringed with tiny lanterns and with a pavilion in the center. Maybe I'll make a new dress for the occasion. I've got tons of cloth to use up, after all.

Back at home, Rhiannon made herself a new pair of pajama pants. I helped. We had a ton of fun, laughing and giggling about all kinds of silly things. We have a new saying to laugh at -- "I'm stumped!"

Friday, May 27, 2005

Going Camping with the SCA

I'm going camping tomorrow, going camping with Rhiannon and the SCA. The event: Crossroads up at the Pawnee National Grasslands in the Kingdom of the Outlands. Tomorrow night will find me in a long flowing dress and a warm wool cloak, sitting around a campfire and listening to songs of love and glory. Huzzah! I'm very excited.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Stem Cell Debate

You're telling me that the miracle of embryonic stem-cell research must have federal funding to emerge? You're telling me that the souless, greedy, capitalist drug company lords are not willing to invest the money necessary to unleash what--if we're to believe most Dems and the ESC lobby-- could be the greatest medical advancement of all time (and consequently, the greatest money-making medical advancement of all time)? They're just passing on that?

Actually, those soulless, greedy, capitalist drug company lords hold the patents for this research. Since destructive embryo research resulted in dismal failure, the only way they can regain their investments is to be born-again as soulless and greedy socialists. They are using the BIO lobby to edge their way closer to Momma Sow's teat.

reprinted from http://www.townhall.com/clog/archive/050522.html#041944P

Friday, May 20, 2005

How to Overcome Shyness - Lesson Two: Thinking of Others

You got this way by thinking a certain way, but it's just not working for you. Are you willing to completely change the way you think? Turns out that popular people, extroverted people, think about other people. Really. You're going to try that too.

Your assignment: You're going to spend some time just thinking about someone you know. Choose someone. Now, set a timer or keep your eye on the clock, and think about them. What do you know about this person? Do you know where he/she is from? Is he/she married? Kids? What do they do for a living or for fun? And what do they think about all of it.

That's it. That's the assignment. Do it every day, choosing someone else to think about. You are practicing a hugely important skill, something that is vitally necessary if you are going to overcome your shyness. You are learning to think about other people.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

How to Overcome Shyness - Lesson One: Being Happy

Do all your needs have to be met before you can be happy? What if only some of your needs are met, can you be happy then?

Yes, you can. You can be perfectly and completely happy when only some of your needs are met.

Your first assignment is to think of the things that make you happy, most especially, the things you can do WHILE ALONE.
Here's what makes me happy: Being in a library and thinking of how I'm surrounded by the thoughts of the human race. Being outdoors. Working in the garden. Playing with my dog. Watching my cat play with my dog. Watching my gerbils. Sitting in the sunshine. Taking walks at night. Taking pictures. Drawing. Writing in my journal. Iceskating.

Next time you do something on your list, I want you to do it wholeheartedly. I want you to feel the happiness within your body. You are not ever to think, 'This would be so much better if I were doing it with someone else.' Allow yourself to be happy alone.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

When I Die

When I die, I want to be buried in the earth unembalmed. I don't want to be filled with preservatives or placed in a thick casket or entombed in a concrete vault. I want my flesh to touch the earth; my body to be cleaned by the bacteria and bugs; my bones to be stripped and purified.

My death comes, maybe slowly, maybe quick. Mortality weighs upon me, almost suffocating. It makes the present moment seem brighter -- the sun on the grass, the rustling leaves, the wind, the brightness of the street. I see these things from my office window. Inside are my office mates who one day will be bones too. This moment is precious beyond anything anyone can imagine. This moment stretches behind and ahead into eternity, and is itself eternity.

One day the thing that is me will be gone; only bones left. Same with Don. Same with Rhiannon, and Kendall, and Michaela. Their uniqueness gone. The expression of the universe that I loved, gone. The little bit given me, gone.

What remains? For people, only love matters. In the greater scheme, only the earth remains. Only the earth, and the sky, and the wind.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Freakonomics: What Makes a Perfect Parent?

An interesting book, for sure, but this chapter doesn't prove what it sets out to prove. What makes a perfect parent? Apparently it's your kid's test scores. Hmmm. Not whether he's a joy to have around? Gets a long well with his siblings? Does the dishes when you ask? How about if he's really good at what he loves, would that count? What if he works to make the world a better place? Well, no, not according to the author. That kind of stuff can't be tested. All that matters is test scores.

So right off the bat, the guy's judging parenthood by one of the less important factors in a person's life.

He starts the chapter by saying that apparently, parenting doesn't have much to do with how a person turns out. He goes on to say that going to a good school doesn't make much difference, either. A few pages on he talks about how kids do better in good schools than in bad ones, and he finishes the chapter by talking about how parenting makes a difference in the long run.

So what makes a perfect parent? I can't say. I don't think Mr. Levitt can say, either. I'm not sure I know what the guy believes, or even what the numbers show. Apparently the numbers can prove just about anything.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

A lovely weekend

What a fantastic weekend! It was one wonderful thing after another.

Friday night: went out to eat with Rhiannon, then to a coffee shop where we ate chocolate, sipped lattes and talked about the meaning of life. I love that!

Saturday: I watched Finding Neverland, a wonderful movie about the man who wrote Peter Pan. I chatted with my chat group. I had a really neat revelation about accepting our limitations and circumstances. What if you were locked in solitary confinement for the rest of your life? What if your cell were pitch black? It would be utterly horrible! And yet, you still can choose how you'll react. Even in utter darkness, lonely and alone, there is an element of happiness to be found. Even then. So why do I complain about my spacious well-lit peopled cell? Because I want it to be even more spacious, well-lit and peopled, that's why. And thus I make myself unhappy.

Sunday: While walking the dog, I came across a bumblebee that needed help so I saved it. A bit further down the path I almost stepped on a rattlesnake. It coiled and hissed at me, showing its fangs. Pretty scary; pretty cool. Later, I had an excellent meditation on immanent and transcendent divinity. Also realized as I did The Work on my fear of others, that my fear wants to protect me from rejection, and when I learn to handle rejection (which I plan to do by rejecting it) then my fear will be able to sit back and relax. Also sat in the sun and soaked it in. God is Light. Is light God? Rhiannon gave me chocolate, Michaela gave me a card she painted, and Kendall wished me Happy Mother's Day.

Friday, May 06, 2005

A photographer

While out practicing my close-up shots yesterday, a little girl asked if I was a photographer. I hesitated a moment before replying, "Yes!"

I am a photographer. I'm an amateur who is just beginning her serious study of the art, but I'm a photographer nonetheless. I've been taking photos and reading photo books for years.

A photographer

While out practicing my close-up shots yesterday, a little girl asked if I was a photographer. I hesitated a moment before replying, "Yes!"

I am a photographer. I'm an amateur who is just beginning her serious study of the art, but I'm a photographer nonetheless. I've been taking photos and reading photo books for years.

Friday, April 29, 2005

Fairy Tales

I spent the evening reading the fairy tales of The Faun and the Woodcutters Daughter, an excellent collection of new fairy tales written in the classical fairy tale style.

  • Fairy tales teach -- how to have courage, what to watch out for, how to be a hero.

  • Fairy tales entertain. They are packed with beauty, danger, conflict, and daring deeds, all the stuff that makes a good story.

  • Fairy tales remind us to view the world with wonder -- it's full of fairies and magic.

  • Fairy tales encourage us to have hope. Though the witch has cast a spell on you, with perseverance and a pure heart, you can overcome it.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Are UFOs for real?

Are UFO's for real? I don't think so. Many people claim that the Army and NASA know that we're being visited by extraterrestrials but hide the truth because they don't want to cause widespread panic. I say baloney. Here's why:

First, a question to get you thinking: What does the Army need more than it needs anything? This is question goes to military theory. I'm asking about any army, any military, any where and any time in history -- the tall and proud United States Marines, the great fighting machine that was the Roman Legions, a band of braves on the North American prairie. What does a fighting force need?

First and foremost, it needs an enemy.

Ain't nothing for it to do if there ain't no enemy.

Extra-terrestrials would be the perfect enemy. If the Army or NASA could prove that we were being visited, then their budget would explode. They wouldn't have to close bases or deal with budget cuts. We'd throw money at them! Our best and brightest would sign up to deal with the alien scourge. Warriors and scientists and explorers of every stripe would be salivating to get their hands on this problem. Thank God, something to do! What a fantastic challenge! The existence of extra-terrestrials would be a good thing for NASA and the Army. That's why I don't believe in a cover-up.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Kendall turns 18

I wondered all day what surprise she'd have for me now that she's reached her majority. You know how kids ask to do crazy things, and the answer is generally 'Yes, when you're eighteen!' So what will she have today? A tattoo? Bright green hair?

Later: It's a tongue stud. And a pack of cigarettes. So after dinner, the girls and I went out on the porch and had a smoke. Really. Even Michaela, who's 15. The girls all looked pretty cool and sophisticated with their cigarettes. They obviously have more experience than they've let on. For me, that was probably the fourth cigarette I've ever had in my life. I learned something, though. I learned that sitting around smoking with friends is a neat way to pass the time. You talk and shoot the breeze. I had a good time.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Scary Tarot Reading

I frequently do spreadless readings, in which I ask a question and draw one card to answer.

My latest tarot reading scares me. I asked, "What can I do to get Joe out of my head? I don't want to think of him all the time anymore!" I drew the Two of Cups, which means friendship and love. In other words, the cards are saying, Don't bother . You two are going to be close. "But what about Don?" I asked. I drew the Five of Cups, which means grief and loss. Oh no! What's going to happen to Don? I don't want anything to happen to him. I love him. Yes, he's hard to live with, but I love him. I love both of them.

Monday, March 28, 2005

The Lovers, The Hermit, The Chariot

I drew three cards for a Tarot reading a couple days ago, asking "When will I understand what life is all about?"

The cards were the Lovers, the Hermit, and the Chariot. What could it possibly mean? I wasn't able to intuit the meaning immediately, so I pondered the answer for a few days until it became clear. (One problem with understanding Tarot is that so many people say so many things about what the cards mean. You can get pretty confused.) It was actually quite simple, really. Just read the cards straight up and there it is. I'll understand what life is all about when there is perfect union between the lone seeker and the master of the physical world. I'm the Lone Seeker; the Hermit is my significator. I figured that the Chariot referred to my husband, who is Mr. Fix-it. So, perfect union between the two of us -- that's a tall order!

But later I got to wondering. What if the Chariot referred to Joe? It could. And the Lovers -- that's our card. The card for Don and me is Temperance, that is, combination of different materials. So, anyway, a few days later I was sitting with my cards, asking questions and drawing one card per question. What would be the significator for Joe, I asked? I drew a card, while thinking "I'm not sure I'll believe this answer." But guess what the answer was -- it was the Chariot.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

A Stoner Party

The phone rang at 9:30 pm last night. I was right by it so I picked it up on the first ring. My husband must have been waiting for the call as he picked it up on the first ring too. "Hello?" we both said. "Hey Don, it's Joe," said Joe's voice. "Come on over." "All right, see ya," answered my husband. We all hung up. I felt a little shaky. My heart pounded in my chest. Joe's voice! How I used to long to hear that voice! Just hearing it used to make things all better. And now there it was, asking my husband to come over. Don was out the door in ten minutes. I know what Joe wanted -- he wanted someone to smoke pot with. The two of them were having a stoner party.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

AmeriCorps Pledge

I will get things done for America, to make our people safer, smarter, and healthier.
I will bring Americans together to strengthen our communities.
Faced with apathy, I will take action.
Faced with conflict, I will seek common ground.
Faced with adversity, I will persevere.
I will carry this commitment with me this year and beyond.
I am an AmeriCorps member, and I will get things done.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Eric Cecil's Suicide

Last Friday evening, Eric Cecil tried to kill himself with a drug overdose. He was mostly successful. He wound up in intensive care, his life hanging by a thread, and that thread tied to this earth by high-tech machines. There was no hope, though, and so on Sunday his parents gave permission to remove him from life-support. In this way they finished the job they themselves had started on Friday afternoon, when Eric told them he was gay and they kicked him out of the house. He was sixteen years old and an acquaintance of my children.