Objects with history

I love the rolling stool in my studio. My uncle used it in his practice as both a country doctor and a surgeon in Southern Alabama. The metal legs are rusting and the gray vinyl is cracking, but it remains my favorite seat.
My great aunt gave me her great aunt's easel. I wonder what paintings it has held through the years. Today, it's holding a Candy Land board awaiting repurposing as art.
There's a New Testament sitting on my bookcase from my grandfather. He signed his name inside and dated it 1927. It's well-worn, as though he carried it in his breast pocket through the years.
I wonder what objects of mine will live and live again in someone else's possession?

Comforting things

Wool blankets made out of old weaters. Tree branches hanging in front of the window. Strong coffee tempered with cream. Old journal holding my thoughts. Wine corks filling a glass jar. Bird chorus seranading a new morning. Antique mason jars displaying pencils, rose petals, black sand and a beta fish. Deep cleansing breaths. A day with nothing pressing.

PMS happenings

1. Yesterday, I was getting ready to leave in the morning when I noticed that there was a hole in my skirt....exposing my butt to the world.
2. Again, yesterday, I got lost on the way to a meeting across town. I was 10 minutes late and the presenter had all the handouts down front - in a room of 250 people.
3. I cut my grass for the first time this year and got blisters on my hands.
4. I won a bid on ebay - but couldn't log into Paypal and had to change my password for the 49th time.
5. Poured coffee down my cleavage this morning.
6. Four classrooms full of angry, disrespectful students.
7. Weird, rambling dreams.
8. Craving chocolate.
9. Inability to focus on anything.

Movie watching: August Rush

He walked away from all he knew because he believed there was more to life.
One person had reached out to him, giving hope.
Stepping out and met with grace.
He heard the music and followed it.

I, too, know what it's like to be in that fragile place.
One person extended a hand to me.
Grace has dogged my steps.
I am learning to hear the music of my own heart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5ab6RtA-KE&feature=related

Speak to me

Words.
Barrage.
Spew.
Angry, hurtful, pain.

Words.
Open.
Transparent.
Vulnerable, risky, trusting.

Words.
Kind.
Gracious.
Soothing, tender, healing.

Words.
Truth.
Love.
Pain, vulnerable, healing.

Musings

My life could be summed up with the phrase: "Right is always right and wrong is always wrong." Admitting my humanity was only to acknowledge the times I acted in my flesh, ie. sinned. I was a spiritual person, trapped in a body of flesh. There was a dichotomy of flesh versus spirit. I was to continually kill anything associated with the flesh: any desire I had whether it was physical or emotional. The monastic life was wrong because it was catholic - but there were definitely times life felt as though I was living that way. I was taught that anytime I felt the urging to scrifice self, that I was "acting in the spirit." In other words, that was God talking. I was also taught that I was an incredibly selfish being and that any attempt at self preservation, self respect, etc was a demonstration of that selfishness.

New Words

So, I've decided to begin an altered book. I am going to use one of my old bibles - a King James, leatherbound bible to be specific. I've been mulling over what the subject could be and this morning I decided. It will be about 20 or so pages, each page dedicated to one of the following words that I desire to see expressed in my life: Creativity, Joy, Friendship, Competence, Peace of Mind, Physical Health, Spirituality, Sensuality, Material Comfort, Independence, Unique, Open-minded, Uninhibited, Joyful, Loving, Personable, Attractive, Productive, Expressive, Inspiring.

As I was compiling my list, I realized that these traits are positive. Now that in and of itself is not unusual, except that I have recently left Christian fundamentalism. These words contain none of the old berating, guilt-tripping dialogue. Prior to leaving fundamentalism, my list would have read: humble, patient, forgiving, kind, servant's heart, etc. Now, I realize that those words are also good traits, but for me they carry painful, negative connotations. Humility involves continually cutting myself down, never acknowledging anything positive about my person. Patience requires bearing with circumstance and people that are annoying and potentially harmful. Combine patience with humility and I have a recipe for abuse. Add to that the necessity of always forgiving those persons with whom I must exercise patience as I rake myself over the coals of guilt and you will have a small understanding of fundamentalism's approach to self-esteem.

Feel free to leave me any comments/ideas for my new book. I would love some good definitions, quotes, and images.

Sealed

Writing to reclaim the broken places in my life.
There are hurt places in my heart - rooms that have been vacuum sealed.
One day these chambers will be ready to open - I will delve into them as they give me permission.
I will feel the pain, hurt and joy locked behind them.
Anger that attacks.
Tears that cleanse.
Comforting silence.
My story is valid.
It is where I've walked and I will own it.
All of it.

New Assignment

I recently purchased Writing as a Way of Healing, by Louise DeSalvo, as part of my journey through my past. I plan on posting an occasional assignment. The image above is the original journal entry of the first assignment.


I feel guilty that I want to sit and do nothing. Not always - just some nights it is more comfortable to stare into space than it is to come up with something to do - even watching tv seems too much. I feel guilty because I was raised to be busy - to be active - laziness is a sin. "Go serve." "He who dies with the dirtiest towel wins." "Lay up treasures." "If you're not working for the Lord, you're missing opportunities." "You'll be sorry one day for all that wasted time." That's a bunch of shit! My soul needs breathing space. I crave quiet. That's part of the natural flow of my spirit. Busy. Quiet. Busy. Quiet. Breathe in. Breathe out. There are times to be still. Resting within myself. Listening to the silence. Hearing the echoes from with walls of the heart. I'm shaking out the rug, so to speak. Beating the dust out of my soul. Letting new wind blow in through the windows.

Wake up slow

Saturday morning.

Somewhat sleepy.

White sofa.

Misty fog.

Fresh green.

Hot coffee.

Egg casserole.

Visiting memories.

Filling up.

Stop.

Eyes closed.

Deep breath.

Contented smile.

Some days it rains.

Melancholy.

Is it just the rain?

Cloudy, overcast.

This emotion is deeper, broader, fuller than sadness. There is a descant floating along above the low harmonies resonating in my spirit.

My house is cozy. I love the solitude. There's artwork scattered around in various stages of completion. Creativity only partially finished.

Melancholy. It's a beautiful place to be. I am content with this quiet. Enjoying simple things like coffee from a friend, a hug from a student, the new green of the leaves.

Melancholy comes easily on rainy days.

Hot tea. Cozy blanket. A book with beautiful pictures.

Melancholy is a wide space that opens up in my heart allowing the spiritual an entrance.

Awe. Stillness. When I allow it, melancholy is cleansing.

It is being content in who I am, where I am, what I am.

It is being open to change. It is listening. It is looking beyond the surface.


Some days it rains.

Apples

Have you ever tried to eat an apple so big that you can barely take a bite? It rubs your nose and stretches your jaw. Then skin gets caught in your teeth. The apple I am eating probably satisfies all the daily recommended fruit allowances in one neat bundle. Juice is now sticking to my nose and dripping off my chin. It takes two sessions to eat it.

A collection of words

Left hand side. Who wins? Tomorrow's trees. Angel's wings. Song of freedom. Nodding heads. What for? Sarah said. Yellow bobby pins. Pig toes. Peace to thee. Aged. Unread days. Diluted hope. Clay hearts. Grace.