[Christianity]

“[Christianity] exists outside of cool–it’s the sort of thing you come into when you’re done trying to redeem yourself with people.”

–Donald Miller

Matrimony

If you can get over the intimidating nature of their band name, Matrimony just might become a new favorite of yours.  Joining Irish folk rock sensibilities and North Carolina indi-ness and harmonies, Matrimony shows that true love [and of music] and heartfelt words really can cross oceans.

I have to be honest that I saw this link on a friend’s facebook and I was not keen on clicking through to hear the song.  I didn’t want to be reminded of matrimony.  I didn’t want to look at someone else’s plaid-skirted, tights, and ballet shoe-ed wedding shower pictures.  I didn’t want to listen to another mandolin play “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”  I didn’t care about a stranger’s journey of love, I just wanted to shut down–more than even the computer.

But then I took a breath and refreshed my heart with humility, hope, and truth.  Perhaps there was more to this music than the next hip thing.  Matrimony, did you know, stems from the Latin mater.  Mother.  This ceremony of leaving and binding is deeply rooted in family, in beginnings, in mothering.  Marriage is about the new two, but matrimony, in the ceremonial sense (as opposed to the sense of state) is transitional.  Like motherhood, it is herding, it is caring, it is speaking, it is promising, it is believing.  Matrimony is a moment heaved upon with purpose, conviction, and all-out fighting [not necessarily dramatically] for the best in someone.

Maybe that’s why Jimmy Brown and Ashlee Hardee Brown (lead singers of the band) felt compelled to live their musical lives in the shadow of such a dusty, onerous term.  Matrimony, marriage, mothering, songwriting–all creating new, all pushing from known to unknown.  In fact, all of these acts and states combine new, old, known, and unknown in every way and degree imaginable every day.  A mother uses her youth to guide her children and her ideals to set them on unknown paths.  Wives and husbands learn from each others’ pasts and even ancient wisdom.  They keep the old that works and strive to make their own, better future history.  Songwriters mix mystery and hope with reality, dreaming of impact and connection.

So matrimony has suddenly become very relevant to me as a teacher, a songwriter, a sister, a learner.  It’s no wonder the term is scary; it’s edges can be quite sharp.  Be attentive, then, to speak and write and promise words that mater [matter].

On Age and Agelessness

PROLOGUE

Numbers are no one’s age. It is true
I was born on July 22nd in eighteen
hundred and eighty-one, but that
is nowhere near how old I am.

Numbers are not

how old anyone is. Since that day,
I have married and traveled and married again
and had children and friends and grandchildren,
even a lover or so . . .

la la

. . . and once,

at Covent Garden, Mr. Swinburne
bowed to me, or to my sister, and
we both curtsied back and that
is exactly how old I am.

Before
this century began, I made
some faërie stories Mr. Lang
thought well of and the men
who printed them and sold them and the children
who drifted asleep with those books in their arms
are all, nearly all, worm farms now,
or stripped too bare to be maggots’ meat.

And all those absences and bones
are how old I am.

I have tried to survive
and keep track of my life, I have tried to deal
with each year as it came over me,
and have failed . . . and all those names
and faces have become my age.

And everyone
I used to know has gone into the darkness
and my hands quiver with the grief of their
departures, my lovers and my friends no more.
For a very long time now, from when
I was a little child, I have been
dying, and that is exactly how old I am.

-David Dwyer
“Ariana Olisvos: Her Last Works and Days
University of Massachusetts Press (c) 1976

Important Dates (The Next Ten Weeks in the Last Ten Minutes)

As I’ve grown “older,” I’ve realized that a week is really not the best way to assess time spent.  Being a teacher makes me work within the school week and keep track of progress by making daily tick marks in grade books and attendance logs and lesson planners.  But the rest of my life takes so much more time than Monday-Friday.  It may as well not be on a calendar.   Instead of weekly events, I have monoliths of projects and parties and pies all trying to pass through the space of my life.  (What movie am I referencing?) If anything, events drag on in terms of months.  It’s true that while still in March, I made plans for May and July and I’m not even talking about this year’s slog of summer weddings–about which, I’m ever so happy, of course.

With that said, I want to share some upcoming dates that I’m excited about:

1. April 20 is Pie, Piano, and Poetry at Danica’s House.  Come and share your work!
2. April 24 is Easter!
2. April 26, I just may find myself listening to Celtic Woman live.  (I only wish T could be there.  I hope it works out.)
3. April 27, I’m taking a group of talented singers for their first Select Choir rehearsal.
4. April 28, I’ll be playing piano for a student singing Katy Perry’s “Firework” at a benefit for Japan; I’ll also be in a fashion show that night.  (I can’t even say how excited I was when the student placed this on the piano and said, “I was thinking of this one.”  I responded very calmly, but gave a generous dose of encouragement because inside I was already dancing.)
5. April 29-30 will find me at my first women’s conference ever, but only if our names get called off the waiting list.  (It’s part of my couch-made agreement with my sister to be more involved in women’s ministry events even though they seem scary to us.)
6. May 2 is my first official JM Choir concert.
7. May 6 is my first Big 9 Contest event.  (This is like solo-ensemble for those of you from Northern Minnesota.  It’s a competition for the “Big 9” high schools in southern Minnesota.  It’s a big deal and today I got a little nervous–not going to lie.)
8. May 13 is a worship team audition I have been waiting for since February.
9. May 19 is my birthday, so let’s be gearing up, folks.
10. May 25 is the final official JM Choir event of the year, not counting graduation.

You know what, I’m glad I don’t do everything on a weekly basis.

Being Open to Closing the Door

Sometimes being open means closing the door.  It’s well and good to be open to the unexpected, but the unexpected isn’t the only option.  Be open, also, to the expected results of investing in your life right here and now.  It’s okay to close a distant, difficult door, especially if you feel you’re not going to be able to fit through it anyway, let alone handle what’s on the other side.

Her and Me: A Sisterly Conversation
The Basement Couch Publishing (c) 2011

Come Back to Me

I’ll admit that I published a confession not an hour ago and already removed it from the blog.

The fact is that I have been trying for about three weeks to remember the words to a Ghanaen song I learned once and tonight I made progress.  I have now successfully remembered one word and the first three measures of the melody.  Odjile.  That’s all I’ve got and I’m not even sure that’s the word I need.

I’d simply rather post about my memorable journey with F.K. than make more confessions at this point that could lead to great embarrassment and a plummeting into deep, regretful, humility.

Instead, I’ll just keep watching Hayor Bibimma videos, like I have for the past hour, trying to remember more.

Here’s a dance I learned the same summer I learned the escaping song.  It’s called the Gele and I believe has something to do with the “come on, I dare you” concept that has been in my mind lately.  Alas, it’s all related in the end.

April Fool’s Wine

April Fool’s!!  I have no post for today except to say that I have not as much Tommolo Montepulciano d’Abruzzo as I did earlier on March 31, 2011.  And I feel like I might throw up.

In related news, I might have a post for April 2, 2011 based on the amount of Tommolo Montepulciano d’Abruzzo I drank March 31, 2011 and the fact that I found a beautiful piece of music called The Wolves and The Ravens by Rogue Valley.

At the end of the four album saga of the seasons, this Minneapolis band (Chris Koza) writes, “In the morning by the sea/as the fog clears from the sand/I have no money in my hand/I have no home, I have no land//But it doesn’t trouble me/as I lay beside the fire/I am easy to inspire/there is little I require//I wasn’t yours and you weren’t mine/Though I’ve wished from time to time/we had found a common ground/Your voice was such a welcome sound/How the emptiness would fill/with the waves and with your song/People find where they belong/or keep on//Through the never ending maze/where the way is seldom clear/there is no map or compass near/I drive a ship I cannot steer/through the bleak and early morn/where a stronger will is sworn/where the moments move so slow/and seem to never let you go//When my hands are old and ache/and my memory flickers dim/and my bones don’t hold my skin/there’s no place I haven’t been/I recall the days were few/that is all that I can do/I feel the carvings in the tree/that gives shade for you and me.

Seduced A Little Every Day

Connecting the dots of my online community today, I found a picture of myself being seduced a little every day.  I started with a friend’s post about how she had been published by Ruminate magazine.  This led me to a blog by a Ruminate contributor who mentioned a desire to be seduced a little every day by the compact moments of beauty that arise.

Of course, she hadn’t come up with this clever phrase, but had been inspired by a fashion icon and photographer called The Sartorialist who used this phrase in a short film.  The Sartorialist was discussing the impact of living a truly visual life.  He talked about how he spends four or five hours every day really looking at people and finding those most natural moments of beauty to capture on film and post on his blog.  He doesn’t look for a lot of great photos, he just keeps his eyes open for the good ones.

This, of course, reminds me of Amy March–You only need one as long as he’s the right one--and I find myself connecting all the little dots I love.  Art, interaction, community, love, whimsy, and belief.

Ways I was seduced today:

* the determination on B’s face as she discussed her ongoing struggle with administration’s approval of her play

* the “you’re ridiculous, but we accept you and laugh anyway” look of six sophomore guys as I told them stories of my high school self

* the shimmering blond of a 3 year old’s hair as she took my hand and led me to my dinner chair

*the complete darkness of my basement when the pre-bedtime movie finished and no one got up to turn on the light

*the fact that M. took 15 minutes to catch up on the phone even while she was shopping for a new wardrobe

I only need this life I live in order to be seduced a little every day.

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