internal dialogue

and furthermore...
i never ever ever said you were the bad guy
i never wanted to make you
the reason for my pain
if i ever wanted to do anything with you
it was just to

hold you
comfort you
love you

and build a home around
the little boy i saw inside your eyes

men without chests

"And all the time—such is the tragi-comedy of our situation—we continue to clamour for those very qualities we are rendering impossible. You can hardly open a periodical without coming across the statement that what our civilization needs is more 'drive', or dynamism, or self-sacrifice, or 'creativity'. In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful."

See the rest here: http://www.columbia.edu/cu/augustine/arch/lewis/abolition1.htm

I ran across this CS Lewis essay this morning, and was reminded of how much I love reading his work... I thought I'd share some. Enjoy.

sometimes i feel...

like i need a vacation...

for a few months now, my mind keeps slipping toward the idea of me just lying on a beach somewhere, or holing up in a hotel room... just letting my mind go blank. which is a nice dream for someone who's virtually broke.

i can't help myself - every time i check my email, i go to expedia.com and look at all their "deals". i like the "all inclusives" to mexico, and the cheap flights to NYC the best... i'm just itching to be somewhere that isn't "real" for a few days. where i can just be.

oh well - a great substitute is a book. i've got two going right now:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-form/104-4814250-1528760
Marion Zimmer Bradley is one of my favorite writers... complete escapism with a touch of history.

misc.

my ex actually asked how i was in his last communique with me. ok... weird since he didn't really seem to care beforehand. i thanked him for making sure my mail got forwarded and told him i was ok. the end.

in other news...

i'm beginning to like my job. i'm getting it, and that's a big deal for the girl who failed math in college - since i'm now doing the books for a department store. =) the other reason i like my job though is that there are some really fun people to work with too. it's a little store with a small staff so we're alot more like family - with all the ups and downs that that implies. we have mike who is great at making us smile and ian who works hard and will always make you feel better when you're having a hard day... jamilah (who owns a coffee shop with her husband too) from singapore is ready with a joke and is a hard worker too... and then we also have our associate who gets the wicked witch of the west theme music every time she swoops down the aisle... she always remains nameless but named in conversation.

it's a little taste of life in a small town i guess. everyone really gets to know everyone. better than some might like. good reason to be on you best behaviour.

today i had to tackle some complicated stuff in the vault and fix some of my own stupid problems, but i came out proud of myself for doing it. i worked catalog too, and did ok - yay!

this week i'm house-sitting for some church friends while they're on vacation. i'm looking forward to some quiet time, and sole possession of the remote control - hehe.

why do we hide ourselves?

as a kid i often hid myself. behind a couch or the bookshelf in the hall - in the next room over - i could hear all sorts of things that my little ears weren't supposed to hear. i have a friend that i joke with about how as preacher's kids we're good at being quiet so we can hear what's going on with everyone at church, as discussed by our parents. hmm. at that time, hiding myself, or being unobtrusive were excellent observation tools.

as i'm older now, i see people hide like that all the time... i'm not sure it's so healthy a habit. you've seen them too - the quiet shy ones, or perhaps the loud opinionated ones who never share anything personal. the difference between me as a kid hiding to hear about grown-ups lives, and being an actual grown up "hiding" in the way i am thinking of are distinct. and i am guilty of it at times. this kind of hiding involves being right in the middle of a room, visible to all, without a voice and without action.

for example: when i am in company with my peers and one has expressed an opinion or applauded an action or choice i believe to be immoral, and i do nothing. sometimes, as a young christian adult it's easy to hide my true self, and cast a cloak of indiffence, or neutrality over me. it's easy to shrug my shoulders and neglect to say what i know is right, or to acquaint my companions with a different and equally valid point of view. it's easy. and it's wrong.

the world makes it easy to hide your true beliefs in the shadows, and eventually the more you hide those things that were once so important to you, you cast them aside as if they were nothing. the passion for a cause, the passion for a pure life, the passion for life itself can be choked out of a soul with the simple silence of acceptance and a choice not to rock the boat.

why do we hide ourselves? i am a christian. i believe in Jesus Christ, that he is the son of God... i believe that there is a certain way that i should live as a believer, and that it is NOT easy. it is simple, and straightforward, uncomplicated, but it is not easy.

"Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don't you put it on its stand? For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open." Mark 4: 21-22

dramaturgy

this is my new favorite word. i think of it whenever i get frustrated at work, or wonder what in the world i'm doing with myself, or if i'm really any good at anything. here's a cool site:

http://www2.ups.edu/professionalorgs/dramaturgy/main.htm

for a shorter explanation: dra·ma·tur·gy Function: noun
Etymology: German Dramaturgie, from Greek dramatourgia dramatic composition, from dramat-, drama + -ourgia -urgy: the art or technique of dramatic composition and theatrical representation

i first heard this word about three years ago at SETC in a panel discussion about women directors... and i had no clue what it was... since then i've done some research on what a dramaturg does in modern theatre, and decided this is a job i would relish.

of course, it'll take me a long time to get that job, seeing how i'll have to get through my BA and then work awhile, then apply to grad school, get through grad school and do well on top of all that. well, it's good to know i'll have something to do for the next few years =)

alone

when i was 13 or 14 years old, my family went on a trip and i decided to stay behind with my best friend and her family - later on in the week i'd go with my grandparents to join my family at vic falls...

but while i was with my friend - it was a stay of several day's duration, i missed my home, and found i couldn't be alone anywhere in her house. so i walked the mile or so through town to my house, and crawled through a bathroom window from the back veranda into the empty house. i was quite pleased with myself, and proceeded to make myself a little soup and sandwich, tidying up after myself and making a coffee to drink while i watched a bit of tv. i was deliciously alone.

soon after, my friend caught up with me, and we had fun being in the house by ourselves - but i remember that day as the first time i got be "all by myself" like that. i still savor times when i have a quiet house to myself, and am surrounded by things of my own. but they have to be my own, and the home needs to be my home.

during the five weeks i waited on the army to send me back to the states, i was alone - desperately alone. our first house since he joined up was supposed to be exciting and all ours, and it had been nothing but a bone of contention since the day we arrived in italy. it started with small things like the dishes and the garbage, soon it was the computers in the living room and the dog kennel in the dining room... one day i looked around and realized this place was not mine.

it wasn't for lack of trying though. i unpacked everything in short order when we recieved our household goods, and made a great effort to make everything look homey. there were flowers on the table, treats in the kitchen, and i stayed on top of the laundry at first. everything was peaceful when he wasn't at home, and it was confusing - wanting to see him, because i loved him and he was my only friend there, and dreading his moods and criticism. it hurt so deeply everytime he interrogated me about why i hadn't done things to his specifications. i was always bowled over and appalled at how seriously he took the littlest things - and thought that i purposely ignored his "instructions" to hurt him.

and then one day, i was out of there - on a plane, going home, because the desperate loneliness had driven me to a deep depression and an attempt to take my own life - i'll never look at perkaset in quite the same way.

and i wasn't so alone - i was overwhelmingly not alone - enveloped and swaddled by loving attention and concern. plus, after a month or two of angry emails, he started calling me at least twice a week with the same message: COME HOME, and here are the reasons why, you're ruining my career, you're ruining us, i don't know if i'll ever be able to forgive you...

WHAT??

but somehow, he won me over and convinced me that he was going to change. so i got on a plane and went back to italy. i battled the house again, and for a short while it was a home. then new year's came, and he basically said that if i wanted to prove i was committed to the marriage that i'd lose the weight he found so disgusting. so i tried. on valentine's day, he told me not to sleep in the guestroom bed when he was gone because it was his bed from when he was a teenager, also i could not go into his study. slowly, every room became off limits or uncomfortable. i sat on the couch and drank. i watched endless miniseries, and made stupid phone calls. i went to counselling, and told the counsellor what was going on, with her help i made the decision to ask for a legal seperation and return to the US. when he took away the car, and forbade me to speak to his command without permission, then followed me to the bus stop and shouted at me in public, i had him moved into the barracks early. i was afraid of him. i was afraid of the man who i thought would keep me from being alone all my life.

i was scared of the one person i chose to share my whole self with. i shared, and was emotionally abandoned when i didn't fit the bill. the one person who i chose to BE with, made me feel like i had nowhere and nothing of my own, that i was crazy and worthless.

is it any wonder, even now with all the love around me, that i want to be alone?

anthem

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen, "Anthem, 1992.