Category: Fiction or Not

To the Not Impossible Him

How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here, –but oh, my dear
If I should ever travel!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Collected Lyrics

*I’m sensing a personal theme here.  Staying, going, signing contracts, settling down, seeing, experiencing, itching, scracthing.  Are free spirits always this way?

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Why Beauty Makes Us Cry

A few weeks ago something so beautiful happened in my daily life that I opened up my wordpress immediately upon arriving home.  I jotted in the subject line “Why Beauty Makes Us Cry,” but then was pulled away by supper and evening activities duty.

Every day since then, I’ve opened up this draft and asked myself, “Why DOES beauty make us cry?”  I can’t remember for the life of me what I was thinking that day.  I lost it.  This is a bummer because I think if I could figure out why beauty makes us cry, I would have a best selling book career on my hands.  Oh, and I would understand a whole lot more about life and art.

Can you help me?  Why do you think beauty makes us cry?  (It also makes us do a myriad of other things, too, but why cry?)

Is it because our souls are meant to be pure and stainless, so beautiful things provide a sharp juxtaposition against our ugly (selfish, angry, hurt, envious, proud) selves?  Is it because beauty outside of us awakens those truly beautiful parts (humility, generosity, creative processes, selflessness) inside of us and the tears are what makes more beauty grow?


Watching Giselle, as performed at Teatro dell’Opera in Rome, was a tearful event for me, but this was not what made me cry the other day.

7

Embarrassing Myself

Blog!  When I think of myself as a twenty something single woman with a blog, I sometimes get a little concerned for myself.  Many a young blogette spill their most embarrassing moments without reserve.  Boy, does that freak me out!

However, being that I am at the moment catching up on a silly little guilty pleasure of mine, I was reminded of a silly little embarrassing moment from a weekend or so ago.

I mean, goodness, it’s summertime.  It’s time to let go a little bit, right?

With all that build up, I should say it’s really not all that embarrassing.  The thing was that I slipped.  I revealed a little part of me that’s so super 20-something, suburban, apparently with no life, girl.  I know not to say these sorts of things, but this time, I didn’t hear my inner mom yelling at me, “Girl, think before you speak!”

Of course, we all say silly little things that we just wish we hadn’t said.  Things that make us want to throw our heads back and laugh it off with a, “Just kidding!  That’s totally not true.”  But we don’t say that because it would be a lie.  Whatever it was we did say, is completely a part of us and completely true.  We have really no choice but to let them go and surrender to the fact that we will either be further accepted or not.

Basically this cute, young teacher, totally new to me, was talking about how he used to rap in college and how his students now always badger him to rap in class.  Of course, my next question was, “Do you have a stellar rapper name?”  (Because I always use the word stellar when discussing rap.  It’s obviously another good choice of mine.)  He responded, “Well, what do you think about The Bachelor?” 

I threw both my hands in the air and with abandon exclaimed, “I love The Bachelor!“

I received a sideways look while he said, “Not the TV show.  I mean, most rappers don’t have bachelor’s degrees, but I do have a bachelor’s degree.  I’m also a bachelor.”

“Of course.  Right.  That’s great.”  And on the inside, I rolled my eyes and said, “I am painfully aware of the fact that you are a bachelor.  I’m embarrassed that that was my reaction to the word bachelor.  It just triggered me.  I swear I’m not that obsessed; I just get such a kick out of that show.  And I really do learn things.  It reminds me to be open.  But let’s not talk about me.  Or Brad.  Or Emily.  Or Ashley H.  Or the fact that Ashely S. really should have been The Bachelorette this season.  I mean, she was really crying when Brad let her go.  Poor thing.  I can totally relate.”

1

This is the Last Song

After 40 minutes of flirting my way through an external hard drive purchase at what I like to call “The Buy More” (what fun), I came home with a new pair of head phones for $15.  Why not throw in a little extra after the big purchase?  These headphones were never meant to awaken my soul.

I put them on.  They worked.  I put them on again and realized they were activating a sound space in my head that only opens when I perform live with a band.  Right behind me, in the back and center of my skull I heard open air and drums.  Just a slight pan as the drummer passed his sticks over the toms and kicked in the bass below.  A little ringing of the ride, a snap of the snare.

I was on stage.  I was alone.  I was belting before a crowd.  I was running.  I was singing, “THIS IS THE LAST SONG THAT I WRITE ‘TILL YOU TELL ME OTHERWISE.”

And I just kept on writing the last song.

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A Lesson From Tom Willett

Here is the most memorable life lesson I learned from one Tom Willett back in 2003 during my stint at The Real School of Rock/Are you for serious?:  Generously use the phrases “right now” and “to me” pretty much in every conversation.  I am 8 years into this advice and I think I’m using those words more than ever.

  • “At this time, I feel apprehensive about that.”
  • “Right now, I am more than upset about this situation.”
  • “In this moment, I see myself as out of place and I see you as where I want to be, but I’m really unsure.”
  • “To me, I feel comfortable with that right now.”

(Tom extended the lesson to encompass beliefs, belief systems, and theology, but feelings are quite big enough for me today.)

These conditional words are not cop outs.  In fact, they are a hard opposite.  They permit free and complete ownership of thoughts and feelings, while humbly allowing for error and growth.  These words promote change in the person, which is the general idea as a Christian.

Insert nervous shaking, “What?! I have to change something about myself?!”  Absolutely!

But I cannot do that, I cannot change, if I am not honest with where I am at.  I cannot go somewhere without knowing where I’m starting.  A good point would be that Abraham did not set out on a journey without knowing where he started.  Abraham set out, by faith, not knowing where he was going.  (Hebrews 11:8)

I, also, set out by faith not knowing where I am going in this journey of self.  Oh, I have vague ideas, like Abraham.  My ideas don’t include descendents as numerous as the stars, but they do include health, graciousness, and maybe an honorable mention in someone’s graduation speech.

I used these words at least 6 times today and they totally helped me laugh my way through a sticky conversation.  Self, don’t take yourself too seriously.  At least, that’s how I feel today.

*Please note that this is meant to be used when discussing real feelings, concerns, nervousness, etc, not petty grievances like “I don’t like they way you load the dishwasher; it makes my life feel unstable.”

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I hate it here; I’m staying

I can list countless moments in my life when I have said, “I love it here! I never want to leave! I want this to be my life forever.”  In Chicago, in Italy, in Minneapolis, New York City, and surprisingly in my small hometown, I have said this.  It can happen in any moment, spurred by any small bit of well-crafted poignancy.  Perhaps the perfect mojito, a stellar outdoor concert, a bit of flirting with the guy who sells me pizza–give me something that makes my heart go “shuush” and I’m in.

Where I currently live, have lived for a year, I have yet to feel the shuush.  But here I am, staying.  I came for some familial re-connections, stayed at first for a temporary job, and then was offered a long-term job.  And boy was my hand twitching when I signed that contract last month.

One year.  I’m only committed to one year, but it feels like I just signed on till retirement.  I mean, one year may as well be twenty when it comes to teacher contracts, right?  Seriously, everyone keeps talking to me about “building my program.”  And I keep thinking, “Oh my goodness, do I really want to leave a legacy in a program?”

Would that really be so bad?  What is so scary about that?  Isn’t it time to get over your commitment phobia anyway?

Then, there are countless moments in my life when I have said, “This is a step. This is a game-changer. This is a better yes.”  When I boarded a plane, when I learned to make pies, when I accepted a job offer.  It can happen at any moment, spurred by a well-crafted and understood purpose.  It’s those moments that make my heart go “kclunkk” and I’m freaked out.

It’s little by little we build the houses we live in, we build our lives.  Bit by bit, decision by decision, we pile up bricks and mortar and learn to be whole, safe, and welcoming to others, we learn to be home.

Even if I hate it here, I’m staying.  I’m staying because I know there is a plan I can’t fully see yet, but with a foundation this good, the house is going to be strong.

4

Where does the sinking feeling come from?

Where does the sinking feeling come from?
How can it pull and push at the same time?
How does it suck inward
so far that it lugs itself inside out and back
again just so
tight
with you stuck to its sides?
How does it crush from the shoulders
down and in, but leave the head
alone enough to know just what is going on–
and still send the head debauchedly spinning around its gravity?
How is its silence louder than any music?
Where does the sinking feeling come from?
How was it made so potent?
That place is surely a battlefield of sorcery.

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Little to No

There is little to no way
that I am that off.
Then again, I have been tricked
A time or two.
I could be totally unwired
And not even realize it.
Crap.

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Packing


I am packing for a four-day weekend with wedding deal and all I have so far is the shoes for the wedding part.  I dress from the shoes up.  It’s been an hour and a half.  What have I been doing?  Watching “This is the Voice!” or something?  (I do advise always singing the theme song for that show instead of just saying the name.  It’s exciting that way.)  Maybe I’m supposed to leave it all behind.  The dog days are over.  It’s summer.  Lighten up.  Come on, kid, throw some stuff in a bag.

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