1.) Thoughts on laptops in class:
a.) good! taking notes is awesome with typing ability.
b.) good! can ignore people who are asking boring questions by blogging.
c.) bad! blogging during class bad!
2.) Thoughts in worship:
a.)"It can be hard to tell the difference between a stomach ache and a message."
b.)"I think I have both."
c.)"Meeting is too chatty to tell for sure."
3.)Oh my crap:
a.)Most boring guy in last semester's class who asked the most inane questions is here!
b.)Asking the same questions again!
c.)And making the same inane comments!
d.)Will never stop talking, which is why I am blogging.
e.)He is still TALKING.
Of The Best Stuff, but Cracked
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Some poems to take into worship
1.
Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape. Walk out
like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You are covered with think cloud.
Slide out the side.
Die,
and be quiet.
Quietness is the surest
sign that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon comes out now.
2.
There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows.
In disciplied silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
3.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you truly want.
Dont go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill.
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
~Rumi
Trans. Coleman Barks.
Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape. Walk out
like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You are covered with think cloud.
Slide out the side.
Die,
and be quiet.
Quietness is the surest
sign that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon comes out now.
2.
There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows.
In disciplied silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
3.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you truly want.
Dont go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill.
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
~Rumi
Trans. Coleman Barks.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Borderlines
I am being all skittery about changing to the new google blogger. Darn all these ongoing innovations.
It's interesting times here. Trying to get a grip on the monster final paper due tomorrow. I also just realized we're supposed to go out for drinks when we hand it in, but I'm down the dregs of the bank account. Poop. I am working on fixing up my financial life so that I don't spend so much of my mental area chanting almostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridaaaaay... though I've been financially independent (oh, so very different from independently wealthy) for six or so years now, I still generally end the pay cycle with -3.98 plus -58.00 bank fees. Eeep! Enough! I need to work my way past my financial puberty and become some kind of fiscal grown-up. I'm also trying to tidy up some messes left behind with ancient unpaid medical and cell phone bills and other things that make for ugly credit. And trying to get one of those “build your credit” credit cards without a billion dollar annual fee. Yawn! Why am I still typing about this? I bore myself. Ick.
I went to my first business meeting at the "new" meeting (the one I've been attending for 18 months and living at for 12? Yes. That new meeting) It was pretty powerful and I've resolved to go more often. Several long-long term weighty attenders applied for membership this round, which made me feel like less of a waffler. Other people wait a long time to join, too! Nyah! Ahh, defensiveness.
The "thereness" of my spiritual life waxes and wanes with my moods. I am still battling chronic depression, but I'm well armed this time with therapist and other helpers. Okay, lots of unquakerly word choices there. But it gets the point across. A lot of the time it is a battle, with all the weariness and bloodiness the word implies, but hopefully, in the end, with a much more positive outcome. It is kind of depressing, how much energy it takes to be depressed. Or, rather, to try not to be depressed. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t have to spend most of my time managing my mood, I would make a million dollars and take over the world. Le sigh.
I've been spending a lot of time sinking into a search for the core of my spirituality…sort of plumbing the depths to see what’s in there, what’s solid. I am always sort of doing this, but recent events have driven me to a deeper, more methodical exploration. As usual, I’m not entirely sure what I am coming up with, but I am getting an idea.
Christmas was a very hard time. I was physically depleted by a violent attack of viral gastroenteritis that left me sniveling and shaking on the bathroom floor and delaying my flight to NC. There was also had a big emotional and spiritual purge that left me feeling similarly drained and shaky: my parents, who love me very much, informed me that any hypothetical Quaker wedding of mine with my dear, Queer friends invited will be unattended by the family.
Which, while still hypothetical, is really, really sad. It has been hard to work through the initial shock and grief into a better place of spiritual adulthood (not that I am there, yet.) It left me feeling a bit orphaned, though I know my family meant nothing of the kind. But I guess a line was finally drawn, a wall was finally raised, and in the end, I found myself standing outside.
It is a perplexing reality that my parents and I are standing on opposite sides of the same Bible verse:
Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me
and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.
with both parties feeling a little bit crucified. I cannot deny the truth I feel is revealed in my heart without being unfaithful to my revelation of Christ. My parents cannot deny the truth they feel is revealed by the Church without being unfaithful to their revelation of Christ. I can feel their pain because I'm sharing it, but through the looking-glass.
Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother...
What does this even mean? I've always struggled with this text, but unlike other trying verses, I've never been able to properly discard it. Obviously a loving God can gain no satisfaction from family strife. In a sanctified world, there would be none.
I know I am growing, in many ways, because of this separation, and I know that is good, and holy. But what a price.
And it is a separation. Even though we are still communicating with love, and still trying to be there for each other in all tenderness, there is a breach. There is a tear. There is a wound.
When the news hit, the first warning that my heart gave me was the extreme importance of not snapping up a martyr role. (Woe is me, as I suffer for my faith!) The second was to examine my soul and make certain that I was sure. Sure of what?
Of my conviction that I have found a true and fruitful spiritual home outside of the Catholic church, one which is founded on solid ground, no matter how fragile my day-to-day practice. Of my conviction that God blesses each and every relationship founded on openness, generosity, and deep love, that the fruits of love are holy, and that all true love is sacred in the eyes of God, without regard to exterior gender or preference.
And the answer is, I am sure.
I am ashamed, in a way, that it has taken me this long to post that. I have hidden much of my own declaration of faith, especially the part about the equality of same-sex relationships, out of fear of rejection and outright condemnation from my family. I have not denied, but I have not affirmed.
I am blessed that my family does not reject me or condemn me outright. Their love for me is strong, and I have great faith in that love to keep our relationship intact over these walls and these seeming chasms of difference in faith. Their courage in drawing the line as lovingly as they can has lent me the courage to examine and declare where I stand. In my deepest heart, I wish that this were a simple matter of difference of opinion, as I had hoped it might be. I would give up my attachment to a great many opinions for the sake of my family, and I think they would do the same for me. But in the end, this is not a difference of opinion, but a difference of conviction.
Please pray for us all, friends.
It's interesting times here. Trying to get a grip on the monster final paper due tomorrow. I also just realized we're supposed to go out for drinks when we hand it in, but I'm down the dregs of the bank account. Poop. I am working on fixing up my financial life so that I don't spend so much of my mental area chanting almostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridaaaaay... though I've been financially independent (oh, so very different from independently wealthy) for six or so years now, I still generally end the pay cycle with -3.98 plus -58.00 bank fees. Eeep! Enough! I need to work my way past my financial puberty and become some kind of fiscal grown-up. I'm also trying to tidy up some messes left behind with ancient unpaid medical and cell phone bills and other things that make for ugly credit. And trying to get one of those “build your credit” credit cards without a billion dollar annual fee. Yawn! Why am I still typing about this? I bore myself. Ick.
I went to my first business meeting at the "new" meeting (the one I've been attending for 18 months and living at for 12? Yes. That new meeting) It was pretty powerful and I've resolved to go more often. Several long-long term weighty attenders applied for membership this round, which made me feel like less of a waffler. Other people wait a long time to join, too! Nyah! Ahh, defensiveness.
The "thereness" of my spiritual life waxes and wanes with my moods. I am still battling chronic depression, but I'm well armed this time with therapist and other helpers. Okay, lots of unquakerly word choices there. But it gets the point across. A lot of the time it is a battle, with all the weariness and bloodiness the word implies, but hopefully, in the end, with a much more positive outcome. It is kind of depressing, how much energy it takes to be depressed. Or, rather, to try not to be depressed. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t have to spend most of my time managing my mood, I would make a million dollars and take over the world. Le sigh.
I've been spending a lot of time sinking into a search for the core of my spirituality…sort of plumbing the depths to see what’s in there, what’s solid. I am always sort of doing this, but recent events have driven me to a deeper, more methodical exploration. As usual, I’m not entirely sure what I am coming up with, but I am getting an idea.
Christmas was a very hard time. I was physically depleted by a violent attack of viral gastroenteritis that left me sniveling and shaking on the bathroom floor and delaying my flight to NC. There was also had a big emotional and spiritual purge that left me feeling similarly drained and shaky: my parents, who love me very much, informed me that any hypothetical Quaker wedding of mine with my dear, Queer friends invited will be unattended by the family.
Which, while still hypothetical, is really, really sad. It has been hard to work through the initial shock and grief into a better place of spiritual adulthood (not that I am there, yet.) It left me feeling a bit orphaned, though I know my family meant nothing of the kind. But I guess a line was finally drawn, a wall was finally raised, and in the end, I found myself standing outside.
It is a perplexing reality that my parents and I are standing on opposite sides of the same Bible verse:
Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me
and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.
with both parties feeling a little bit crucified. I cannot deny the truth I feel is revealed in my heart without being unfaithful to my revelation of Christ. My parents cannot deny the truth they feel is revealed by the Church without being unfaithful to their revelation of Christ. I can feel their pain because I'm sharing it, but through the looking-glass.
Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother...
What does this even mean? I've always struggled with this text, but unlike other trying verses, I've never been able to properly discard it. Obviously a loving God can gain no satisfaction from family strife. In a sanctified world, there would be none.
I know I am growing, in many ways, because of this separation, and I know that is good, and holy. But what a price.
And it is a separation. Even though we are still communicating with love, and still trying to be there for each other in all tenderness, there is a breach. There is a tear. There is a wound.
When the news hit, the first warning that my heart gave me was the extreme importance of not snapping up a martyr role. (Woe is me, as I suffer for my faith!) The second was to examine my soul and make certain that I was sure. Sure of what?
Of my conviction that I have found a true and fruitful spiritual home outside of the Catholic church, one which is founded on solid ground, no matter how fragile my day-to-day practice. Of my conviction that God blesses each and every relationship founded on openness, generosity, and deep love, that the fruits of love are holy, and that all true love is sacred in the eyes of God, without regard to exterior gender or preference.
And the answer is, I am sure.
I am ashamed, in a way, that it has taken me this long to post that. I have hidden much of my own declaration of faith, especially the part about the equality of same-sex relationships, out of fear of rejection and outright condemnation from my family. I have not denied, but I have not affirmed.
I am blessed that my family does not reject me or condemn me outright. Their love for me is strong, and I have great faith in that love to keep our relationship intact over these walls and these seeming chasms of difference in faith. Their courage in drawing the line as lovingly as they can has lent me the courage to examine and declare where I stand. In my deepest heart, I wish that this were a simple matter of difference of opinion, as I had hoped it might be. I would give up my attachment to a great many opinions for the sake of my family, and I think they would do the same for me. But in the end, this is not a difference of opinion, but a difference of conviction.
Please pray for us all, friends.
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