Music

Hear the music
That creates beautiful thoughts
In your mind
That paints glorious pictures
That flow through your heart
And lift you skyward

And make this music
The soundtrack of your life
Hear the melody of creation
Feel the rhythm of the world
Dancing around you
And be in it
And be of it
Hear the music

Pushing Through

I see you, black crow,
Morsel clutched in your beak,
With all your might and strength
Pushing forward
Through each gust,
Through each breaking wave of wind.

And above, black crow, do you see
That strand of birds
Flowing across the sky,
Fighting to hold their shape,
But over and over again
Shoved out of place by the storm;
Weaving out and back in again,
In and out, out and in,
So fully determined.

Black crow,
Did you feel the brief moment
When this same insistent wind
Turned this mild warm day
Into a shocking downpour of freezing rain;
See these icy drops,
Needle sharp and numbing,
Piercing my face, my chest, my hands,
Pressing me, pushing me,
Attempting to pound me
Into the concrete beneath my feet?

Black crow, can you see
My delighted grin
As I push right back,
Press on, move forward,
Bring my hand to my chest
From time to time,
Just to feel that it's still there?

Pushing through this storm,
Can you feel yourself,
Black crow, growing stronger;
Can you sense the steadfastness
And solidarity of the string
Of birds above;
Can you see in my face
That my heart's fire burns hotter
And grows brighter with each step forward?

This is the living,
The feeling, the becoming
Something more, something stronger;
It's the pushing through
And the pressing forward,
It's standing against the sweeping storms
And enduring the gut-wrenching
Turns in the weather,
And pulling ourselves back up
When everything around us
Seems to pound us down.

This is the living.

God, give me patience

God, give me patience. Sometimes I can't see down the road at all; all I can see is where I'm at right this moment, and I find myself despairing that I will never be where my heart desires. I know that's not realistic, but sometimes a matter of years feels more like a matter of decades. Sometimes all I can see is right where I'm standing right now, and I feel glued to this spot like I can never get away.

God, give me a stronger faith that my life is moving in the direction it is supposed to be. My life is not stagnant, is not stuck in one place. Rather, I am constantly on a journey, on a path which was designed and laid out for me if I have the wisdom to follow it faithfully.

God, give me a greater determination to make the best of every place and situation I find myself in. I know that I can make a beautiful and blessed life out of whatever I am given. I can't always choose my path, but I can choose what to do with it. I can choose my attitude. I can choose my willingness to adjust and adapt. I can choose my joy or my discontent.

What's eating up all of your time?

I've decided to give it up, cold turkey. I'm ready for a change. I don't like the old way of doing things; it doesn't suit me. It doesn't make my life work the way I would really like it to. And if I don't like how something is going, then the most logical thing to do is make a change.

I've always thought of myself as someone who does more productive things with my time than just sit around and watch TV. So many people just sit around and watch TV, and I wonder how they ever have time to do anything else. And then you have a conversation with them, and the only thing going on in their life that they have to talk about is what happened last night on their favorite TV show. How boring; how sad.

But then I realize that for someone who doesn't even have TV (no cable television in this house), I watch a lot of TV. I am a Hulu addict. I am just as tied down to the weekly TV schedule as any other TV addict. I have my certain shows that I watch every week. But I like to pretend that I'm not as attached to them, because I don't watch them the night they air; I can watch them anytime I want. And sometimes I even watch them several days or even a week after they aired on TV. But the real point is that I still watch them.

I catch myself thinking, how fast can I get done making dinner so I have enough time to watch Dancing with the Stars tonight. Or, can these dishes wait until tomorrow, so I can watch a couple of shows right now? I push other things out of the way that I want to get done, that are important to me, so that I can fit some TV shows into my life. And they take up so much time.

And I guess I just didn't realize how much time they took up until I stopped watching them for a week. But now, I feel so different. I feel more relaxed. I feel calm. I don't feel hurried or rushed because I have all the time in the world. I mean, I don't have kids or much of a social life really, so compared to a lot of people, I have lots of time. And I was wasting at least 30 minutes of it a day on TV shows. I could have been using that time to write or read. I could have been outside walking. I could have spent that time cleaning something or organizing a closet or cupboard. I could have been using that time to make a grocery list or cook some food. Heck, I could have used some of that time to simply take a nap and be that much more rested.

I am not saying that I will never watch a TV show again. I like TV shows. I just don't want it to be the primary use of my free time. I just don't want to be tied down to the days and weeks that one of my TV shows has a new episode. So that's it; I'm quitting my Hulu habit, cold turkey, and it feels good.

A Wise Man Writes...

•  An excerpt from the magazine UTNE Reader, which took it's article as an excerpt from the Friends Journal.

"Based on my life experience, studies, intellect, and conscience, I am led undeniably to the conviction that patriotism is immoral: It is selfish and irrational, hinders our judgment, divides the world, contributes to militarization, causes war, and contradicts the teachings of Jesus.

Patriotism is an attitude of favoritism toward "my country" and "my people." If egotism or pridefulness toward oneself is a vice, then patriotism or pridefulness toward one's particular country is likewise deplorable. 

Patriotism clouds our judgement; it hinders objectivity and detracts from our ability to assess political situations rationally. Patriotism biases us toward our country's perspective, encumbering our desire and ability to consider outside perspectives. Patriotism breeds conformity and closed-mindedness. Furthermore, it makes us overly trusting of those in power over us, and susceptible to abuses of that power....

In kindergarten, I learned a mysterious morning chanting ritual in which one robotically pledges one's life to a flag and to one nation under God, "invisible" (as my child's mind heard it) with liberty and justice for all. Now I understand what I was saying. And I understand that people, and certainly Christians, should not pledge at all, certainly not to a material object (an idol), certainly not to one particular nation among many, and certainly not to something under God. I also know now that no kingdom save an invisible one could truly have liberty and justice for all....

Many of us are taught in school that "America is the greatest country in the world," while the darker aspects of our history are largely ignored or glossed over....

Patriotism is contrary to the teachings of Christ. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus declared, "You have heard it said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies."

                                                                            ~ Tony White

Finding Joy Today

I'm finding joy today in the little things

That delight and sustain me

The quiet excitement of finding a book on the library shelf

By one of my favorite authors

That I haven't read before

Or at least don't remember reading

It's all the same to me

The subtle exhilaration of a steady breeze

That's cool but not too chilly

Fresh and focused on blowing away the winter storms

And welcoming the shining spring sun

A glimpse above the buildings of solid black hills

Against a backdrop of light gray skies spotted

With feathery white clouds

And sporadic bursts of clear blue sky

All reminders that I live in one of the most beautiful places

And I have a beautiful life

Alive

Tree limbs stretching out

Bare to the bone

And charcoal black against a slate grey sky

Fractal fingers like blood veins grasp

At wisps of air and cloud

Inhale the atmospheric life-blood

Draw it out of the open and pull it in

Pull the life in

To the center

To the core

To the heartbeat

Under the soles of our feet

Thumping, pounding, beating

In perfect rhythm with my heart beating

In synchronicity with all life fleeting

And meeting each other in those still places

In those small moments

Where I notice

And I am here

And I remember that I am not the only one alive

I Want That One

Because I look at you every day

And still think the same thought over and over again

The same thought that crossed my mind

The very first time I ever laid eyes on you

I want that one

Because I never run out of things to tell you

Because I want you to know everything

I want you to be intricately, intimately, inseparably

Entwined in every important moment that I experience

Because you inspire me to dream

Of becoming an old woman, wrinkled, gray, stooped

Who wakes up every morning to find you beside me

For almost forever, or as long as we can both manage to keep breathing

Because no matter what kind of argument we’ve had

I’m just waiting for it to end

So I can wrap myself up in your arms again

Where I belong

Because I’m always waiting for you

Hoping to catch as many glimpses of you as I can

Hoping to catch your eye as many times as I can

Hoping to steal as many kisses from you as I can

Hoping I can do whatever it takes to capture your heart

Over and over again, as often as I can

Because you know who I am

And I know who you are

And I still want you

And you still want me

And that makes everything worthwhile

Five Years

On February 3rd, I will have been married for five years to Craig Matthew Saunders, who is my very favorite person in the world. Every year, I love him more!

Because we were going to be busy around our actual anniversary, we celebrated it this weekend. Craig said he wanted to plan something for us, so all I knew was that we were going to leave our apartment on Saturday morning at nine o'clock. He drove me to Portland to take me to OMSI! I love OMSI!!

At OMSI, we watched a planetarium show about black holes. I love black holes! 

Then we walked through their current main exhibit, Body Worlds and the Brain. It was super awesome! The artist who created the pieces we saw uses a technique called plastination, which is using a real body or body parts and replacing all the bodily fluids with plastic. So he has all these bodies in different poses with different parts pulled away or cut into interesting shapes so you can see all the muscles and organs and bones and nerves from all different angles. He posed some of the bodies in different kinds of sports moves, so he had a ballerina, a soccer player, a yoga woman, two ice skaters, a baseball player, etc. So you could really see how each of those actions uses the muscles. And then he had other pieces that were much more artistic, like sliced up in strange ways or with different pieces sticking out so you could see the insides. The coolest one, though, had to be the giraffe. It was huge!!!! If you are interested in looking at muscles and bones and brains, you should totally check out this exhibit!

After we walked through all the dead bodies, we watched an IMAX show about flying dinosaurs. I love dinosaurs! And it was presented by our favorite nature show guy, David Attenborough. Craig and I both love David Atteborough! He does the best nature shows.

So OMSI was awesome! I'm so glad my wonderful husband thought of that for our anniversary. It was special and memorable, and we had a wonderful time spending the whole day together!

First Snow of Winter

The first snow of Winter
Watch it coming down
Full, heavy flakes pouring down
To blanket everything
In a layer of soggy slush
But let's just pretend that the flakes are fine and fluffy
And that they float to the ground
To coat everything in a perfect powder
Let's just pretend that you can pick it up
Throw a snowball, roll a snowman body
Lay on the ground to make snow angels
Let's just pretend that the first snow of Winter
Is real snow instead of just
Really cold Oregon rain

Isn't it magical?

It's As Simple As That

Today, I am concerned about an ache in my neck that I've had for a month.

I paid someone to massage my neck and back.

I will pay someone else to align my spine.

I will pay people to fix me until I am well.

It's as simple as that.

Today I am concerned about how healthy my meat is.

If I buy the regular meat in the grocery store,

I may be supporting the inhumane treatment of livestock,

I may be eating meat that is filled with hormones and antibiotics.

If I am willing to spend a few dollars more per pound,

I can eat a happy cow, a clean cow, a vegetarian cow.

It's as simple as that.

Today I am concerned about my health,

Whether I'm eating enough fruits and vegetables.

And I'm debating whether I've been drinking enough water.

Because if I eat more fruits and veggies and drink more water,

I'll have more efficient digestion, and I'll feel better,

And more importantly I might lose weight.

The question is not whether I can afford to eat healthier or drink more water.

The question is merely one of self-control;

Can I physically restrain myself from eating too much food 

That has too much fat and too much sugar?

It's as simple as that.

My life is as simple as that,

Unless of course, I find myself living a different life.

If I am brown or black, native to a colonized country,

Situated south of the equator,

Everything is different.

If I am one of the billions of people surviving--

Or not surviving--

On just a few dollars a day,

Everything changes.

When I wake up in the morning, that pain in my neck is nothing,

Not compared to pain in my belly when I didn't eat a single meal yesterday,

Not compared to the pain in the soles of my feet from walking all day with no shoes,

Not compared to the constant and crippling pain in my back

From bending over in the hot sun, 

Harvesting a rich, white man's crops all day.

That dull ache in my neck is nothing.

When I go to the market to buy food for my family,

I pay no thought to how the meat was raised or what it was fed;

I don't even go near the meat stalls; they would laugh in my face.

They see me and know I don't even have the money to pay for the rice I bought today;

I bought it on credit.

I was lucky the man selling rice would give me any at all.

So tonight, my children will eat only rice,

But at least today they get something;

Another day it will surely be nothing.

When I look at the children sitting at my feet,

I wonder what their lives will be like,

Whether they will have any life at all.

Which of them will I outlive?

Because when one of my children is sick,

There is nothing I can do.

There is nowhere I can go.

There is nobody who will help.

There is a hospital, but I can only take them if I can pay,

And the only way I can pay is if none of us eat.

What kind of choice is that?

So I leave the fate of myself and my children to the gods

Who so far have decided that our fate

Is to have nothing,

Is to be nothing.

It's as simple as that.

I Am Everywhere In That Moment

If I lay on the floor

And become quieter than I usually am

Can I be somewhere else

Can I become something else

Transforming, evolving, transcending

Because then the particles that compose the molecules

That make a body that I inhabit

Can hear a little better

And I can feel them listening

For their other half

That sings to them, that beckons

The other half that got separated at birth

So many eons ago

And now dwells in another universe an infinity away

And the two twin parts, every set of them

Speaking to each other across the multiverse

Means that I am everywhere in that moment

If I can be more still than my normal state of being

If I can be better at being

Maybe I’ll also hear them sing

I Have Come For You

I extend my blessing upon those who are sick and hurting and broken

When you don’t have the strength to stand on your own

Reach out for my hand

My strength is yours

I have come for you

I extend my blessing upon those who are cold and hungry and impoverished

When you don’t have the courage to face another day on your own

Reach out for my hand

My courage is yours

I have come for you

I extend my blessing upon those who are constantly burdened with worry

When you can’t find the space or time for a moment of peace

Reach out for my hand

My peace is yours

I have come for you

I extend my blessing upon those who weep for all that’s been lost in their lives

When the tears won’t stop and the despair seems never ending

Reach out for my hand

My joy is yours

I have come for you

When all that surrounds you is darkness

My light is yours

When all that you feel is hatred

My love is yours

When all that you know is doubt

My hope is yours

Everything that I have to give is yours

I have come for you

Going soft in my old age...

One great benefit to working full time is that I'm getting sloppier. I used to be the kind of wife who was always reminding my husband that he should pick up after himself and not leave so much junk just laying around the house. And my husband's really not that big of a slob; he was just messy compared to me. I would try to tell him that even if it didn't really matter to him whether the house was tidy or clean or organized, it did matter to me, which should make it more important to him. But somehow the message just never got through all the way. He would pick up and clean up and organize on random days, when he had time, when there wasn't something more important on his mind, but he just wasn't as on top of it as I was. And some days that just irked me.

However, while I was reminding my husband that he should be more consistent in picking up after himself, I was only working five or six hours a day and commuting ten minutes or less, while he was working eight or nine hours a day and commuting a half hour or more.

Now that Craig is going to school and only working part time, he gets home earlier than I do. I'm the one working eight hours now, and he's home almost every evening before I am. He still doesn't really want to tidy up the house every day and make sure everything's in it's place because that's just not at the top of his priority list. But the big positive is... it's not at the top of my list either.

I'm not saying that I'm a slob now, just because I'm working longer hours, but it is definitely forcing me to mellow out a little. Right now, there are dirty towels all over the place in the bathroom, and the clean towels are all in piles in the office, waiting to be put away. We only make our bed on weekends or when we've just washed the sheets. The dishes don't get washed every day; sometimes we skip a day. And some weekends, we don't really do any housework because the dust and grime in our home will still be waiting for us the next weekend when we have a little more time and energy.

This state of affairs would never have been acceptable to me in the past; it would have really made me feel stressed. But now I just don't care as much about that stuff. Is it important? Sure. I want to take care of my home and live in clean and comfortable environment. But does it have to be perfect all the time? Hell no. This realization is such a relief to me. And hopefully my mellowing out a little is a relief to my husband as well.

Election Day Approaches

As election season approaches, I hear people saying, "How can I support this Republican? He's only looking out for the rich guy." Or, "How can I vote for a Democrat? I'm tired of my taxes supporting bums who won't work for their own living."

There are so many big words we can throw around on both sides to decide who's wrong and who's right: socialism, racism, taxes, family values, war on terror, immigration reform, bank bailouts, home foreclosures, jobs programs, Obamacare, on and on and on. You can pull out any argument in the book for why we should or should not be voting for a certain party, a certain candidate, a certain set of political ideals.

As someone who originally was registered as a Republican, then re-registered as a Democrat so I could vote for Hillary Clinton in the presidential primaries, I now find myself unsure whether I want to vote for any candidate, in any party, ever.

Rather than asking myself how I could possibly support a Republican or a Democrat, I find myself examining candidates and thinking of each one of them, "How can I support someone who is so power-hungry? How can I vote for someone who is so willing to say anything to get a vote, who will stand for something one day, then do a complete turn around in the next election to keep up with current trends? How can I say that I want someone leading in my country who is willing to lie and cheat and take bribes and use others to have that position of leadership?"

And I have started to believe that the best outcome for our country might be if we as a nation banded together to say we will not vote for liars, we will not vote for self-serving narcissists, and we will not vote for the man who has the most money to be able to make himself look attractive.

What if we all just stopped voting for national politicians until they got the message that we're not interested in supporting the criminality and negligence of the United States Congress and White House?

It won't ever happen, but would it be better if it did?

Serve the Word

I am a word person, so my mind is constantly filled with words seeking out their place in the universe. Individual words, unexpected combinations, short phrases with mysterious meanings.

And when one word or combination or phrase strikes me just so, it seems to be asking to be written down. And as a word person, I live to serve the word. So depending on the mood of the day, I will either pick up a pencil and one of my scattered notepads, or rest my fingers on the laptop keyboard and implore of these words, "Speak!"

Yet, although the words have wished it, and I have seconded the opinion, all too often nothing comes forth, or that which does is, to put it plainly, lame.

In this instance, the mind-numbing television shows and pointless wanderings on the web have won yet again. My mind is melting into a meaningless mush unless and until I deliberately act to stop it.

And I remember fondly those moments in the past when I would leave the computer to its own company and instead gaze out the window at a downpour of rain or sit in the park admiring the way leaves grow, change, and fall.

These are the perfect moments in life that are all too often missed and brushed aside for important things like shopping and TV and video games and internet perusal.

And after all these thoughts have passed through my mind, I resolve yet again to shun more and more the distractions that the world shoves in my face in favor of a more fertile and thriving heart, soul and mind.

Foundations

If my parents had been raised Mormon, they would have raised me Mormon. And as a Mormon, I would believe wholeheartedly in the words that Joseph Smith wrote in the Book of Mormon. I would believe that he saw the angel Moroni, found the golden plates with the words of God inscribed upon them, and translated them as the book of Mormon using his seer stones. Joseph Smith's writings and revelations would inspire my faith in God, if I had been raised a Mormon.

If my parents had been raised as Muslims, they would have raised me as a Muslim. And as a Muslim, I would have grown up reading the teachings of  Muhammad found in the Quran. I would believe that he saw the angel Gabriel, flew on a winged horse to Mecca, and visited heaven and hell. As the last prophet of God, Muhammad and his teachings would be the foundation of my faith.

If my parents had been raised in Buddhism, they would have raised me in Buddhism. And as a Buddhist, I would be taught that Siddhartha Gautama was the Supreme Buddha. I would know all about his enlightenment that occurred after he had meditated for 49 days under the Bhodi tree. I would grow up hearing stories of the Buddha's powers of telepathy, super-hearing and levitation. Based on these miraculous signs I would choose to follow the Buddha and all his teachings.

But because my parents were raised Christian, they raised me Christian. As Christians, we believe that the virgin Mary gave birth to God's son and the sky was filled with angels singing his praise. We believe that Jesus performed numerous miracles of healing, exorcisms, and control over the natural elements. After he died, he came back to life. These are the signs we believe in that tell us that he was indeed God in the flesh.

Because my parents were raised as Christians and raised me as a Christian, I understand that the only signs, miracles, prophecies, and angel-sightings that are actual facts are the ones recorded in the Christian Bible. The others are either myths, lies, or gross exaggerations of the truth. This doesn't actually make any sense to me logically or emotionally, but I know it's true because it's what I've been taught. Thank God I was born a Christian.

What it means this year

I've been thinking about Christmas already, trying to figure out how I feel about this year.
       What it means this year.
       What I am celebrating this year.

Because I'm not very good at doing things the traditional way. I want to think about things and dig into them to figure out what's really going on. Call me a party-pooper, but I hope that I find myself digging and pondering and struggling with questions every Christmas. I don't ever want to just do Christmas like we're supposed to do Christmas.

This year, the path my thoughts have followed has somehow led me to the Beatitudes. Every time I read this passage, I feel as though I'm reading a summary of everything that Jesus that was trying to tell us.

          Like it's the whole point.

And if it's the whole point of what Jesus taught, then isn't it the whole point of Christmas as well?

The Bible I use puts it like this:

God blesses those who realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.
God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
God blesses those who are gentle and lowly, for the whole earth will belong to them.
God blesses those who are hungry and thirsty for justice, for they will receive it in full.
God blesses those who are merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
God blesses those whose hearts are pure, for they will see God.
God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God.
God blesses those who are persecuted because they live for God, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.

I just really feel so strongly right now that this is the whole point.
         This is Jesus.
         This is the reason for celebrating.
         This is the reason for remembering.
         This is God's Love.


*Matthew 5:3-10, New Living Translation

Love the Questions

Do we belong to religions because they help us be good? Do we belong to a certain church because it shows us a way to freedom, a way to be the best we can be, a way to live with integrity and values?

Or do we belong to a church or religion of some type because it feels good to be part of a group of people who all claim to agree with each other about something? But what if you don't agree with everything that your religion preaches? What if you think about things in a way that other people in your group would say are wrong?

Is it your obligation to the group to mold your thoughts to align more closely with theirs? Or do you need to just stay quiet, and keep those straying thoughts to yourself? Or is it best to speak up and tell others what you've thought of, ready for whatever response they may have?

When you are raised in or have come to associate with a certain religious group, how do you decide which thoughts and beliefs are truly yours and which of them is the direct product of being instructed and influenced by those around you, especially the people preaching from the pulpit? More importantly, when the words of God are being delivered to you through a man, a preacher, a priest, how do you retain the ability to discern what the voice of God truly sounds like versus what the man up front thinks the voice of God sounds like, or what the people surrounding you have come to agree the voice of God sounds like?

If you spend every Sunday in church listening to a sermon telling you what the Bible says or what you should be thinking about or paying attention to or giving your money for, how do you keep your heart and mind open to hearing God speak into your life in ways that might sound completely different, that might even lead you in the opposite direction?

Keep in mind that these are all questions. No answers. I don't have those. I don't necessarily need those. I love the questions; I thrive in the questions.

These questions can be rhetorical, and that's okay. Or not, and that's okay.

I've been discovering things. Sometimes I discover things about how I do my life that I don't necessarily appreciate or take pride in. I realized this last week, that I am a wimp.

I always think of myself as a strong, independent woman. I'm stubborn and willful, so I pretend that those qualities make me strong. But I find over and over again in my life that when I run into a situation that feels precarious, I almost always attempt to run away and hide, rather than face and overcome the situation.

I'm not saying that I run away from every hard thing that comes up in life. I will always be committed to my marriage no matter what happens. There are some things that are too important to even consider the possibility of running away.

But I get so scared of the mere possibility of failing, the idea that maybe I won't be successful, I'll make a fool of myself, I'll be criticized for being less than capable. These things I cannot handle. So I freaked out about my job last week. It got really busy, and there are still so many things for me to learn. And I just felt like I couldn't do anything; my brain got all mushy, and I felt confused by everything that crossed my desk. And I just wanted to run away.

I did work through it; I'm still there. But it was a big wake-up call to realize how extreme my fear of failure is, how easily I can allow myself to crack under pressure. I felt like a wimp, and I felt ashamed of how quickly I was willing to wimp out. 

Grow, grow, grow. I want to grow-- into my womanhood, into my maturity, into wisdom. God give me the strength and the courage.