wonder woman
I think I got my wonder back this morning.
I was driving to work, coming down what is known as “the cut” on Interstate 64. The rolling hills of southern Indiana form a high ridge just before plunging down to the Ohio River. The Cut is where the D.O.T. literally cut a giant V in the mountain to accommodate the interstate.
As I was coming down the cut, I could see, as I assume all the other drivers could, the whole river valley, spread out in front of me. The grey-green hills on both sides of the river wreathed in feathery mist. The Louisville skyline, windows shining, and the elegant arches of the bridges. The silvery ribbon of the Ohio. All spread out under a canopy of rich red, orange, gold and violet clouds as the sun rose. It was breathtaking.
I turned off my radio, and just sang. Tears welled up. It was that beautiful. I rolled through the downtown, still struck by the awesome beauty all around me. It had such a … cinematic scope to it all this morning, from the mist rising off the river to Muhammed Ali’s faces on the side of his Center. I reconnected to Creator, Creation, and my happy little spot under the gaze of one and snuggled into the other.
Like Genesis, it was good. It was very good.
Here’s hoping that you have a very good weekend, all.
Of Being and Not Belonging
From Sacred Space:
Why have churches? We need to find God, and find him in community; and the church offers what we call the Real Presence. We are not praying in empty vaults, but before our Lord in the tabernacle. The Curé of Ars used to see an old countryman sitting for hours in the parish church, and one day he asked him what he was doing. I look at the good God and the good God looks at me. In every parish there are mystics who do not know they are mystics, people whose prayer has reached a simplicity and intimacy beyond words. You feel the aura of their prayers when you come into their church. It witnessed their baptism, sheltered them in sorrow, confirmed the young and celebrated committed love. It expresses the dream, the vision, the reaching out towards God, of the local people and their visitors over the generations.
I’m going through a difficult time right now, not in my spiritual life as a whole, but very specifically in the area of participation in a local church.
I didn’t grow up in a “churchgoing family.” We (and by “we” I mean us kids and some of the time, Mom) went to church at Christmas, Easter, and summer Vacation Bible School. In fact, I first made a commitment to Christ and was baptised during vacation bible school. I could spend a few pages discussing why they were Christians and yet didn’t attend a local church, but suffice it to say that was my experience growing up.
When I started dating Chris, his family were devout Lutherans, his dad an elder and his mom on the altar guild. Being raised (sorta) Baptist, I had no idea what that meant, but I knew that if I wanted to date Chris, I had to go to church every week.
So I went to church every week. I participated in worship. I took communion. I recited the liturgy, although I never ceased to be amazed at the dead-dull tone of voice of the other worshippers. I recall an Easter service, when the congregation recited dutifully “He is risen. Halleluia. Christ is risen indeed,” with all the enthusiasm of Ben Stein as the teacher from Ferris Buehler’s Day Off. I think I knew right then I wasn’t meant to be a Lutheran.
We went to church pretty sporadically during the early part of our marriage. And then we got back to the States, and I know God placed us in a local church like I know my own home address. That was seven years ago, and we’ve both grown tremendously since then. Much of that growth is a direct result of becoming part of a local church, and the people we met there.
In recent months, really since the first of the year, I’ve been questioning seriously whether I belong there anymore. I no longer feel like a part of this local church. My attendance hasn’t dipped. I’ve been serving. But I feel cut off, rattling around loose in their midst like a five-year-old’s baby tooth that is only hanging by a thread.
I’ve got concrete issues, yes. And if I felt like I belonged there, like that was where God wants me, I’d continue trying to make an effort to resolve them.
I’ve also got some philosophical and theological issues with “the institutional church” right now.  But nothing that won’t get worked out by continuing to seek God’s will.
I suppose that the point to this, if there is one, is that just when I needed it, I read the passage I’ve quoted above. Which tells me, in case I was wondering, that God knows where I am and is with me still.
And that, in the words of Gandalf, is a very encouraging thought.
Weird is the new normal
My head has been empty as a bucket for the last week or so.
It’s been nice. Generally, my head is stuffed with ponderings like an olive is stuffed with pimentos.
I went to Barnes & Noble today on my lunchbreak, because there’s one very close to my new place of employment. I think I could happily move into Barnes & Noble. I could sleep on one of the sofas in the Childrens Literature department, eat at the Starbucks Cafe every meal, and spend all my time just wandering through the books and music and sundry other Barnes & Noble-y things. It reminds me of college and writing classes and feeling the possibilities of life. It occurs to me that as a card-carrying Four, the prefab, fake-Old-World character of B&N should bother me, but it doesn’t.
Another thing: I spend so much time on the computer reading and writing that I miss paper and bound books. I have a tactile craving for the printed page.
Walking through the shelves, all sorts of fresh new ponderings cropped up like a row of carrot tops in a garden. I very nearly bought Succulent Wild Woman by SARK, except that just flipping through the pages already got my creativity and inspiration juices flowing. As I am presently out of practice at channeling them, I didn’t want to flood my poor formerly-empty-bucket brain.
So here is a little pondering, which is just big and juicy enough to pick and enjoy.
When did quirky weirdness become a culturally desirable thing?
When I grew up, nobody wanted to be called a geek or a nerd. You might know deep down in your shameful little heart you were one, but you certainly didn’t want everyone else knowing it.
Somewhere along the line, from MASH to Ally McBeal, and then Ally McBeal to Monk, weird became at least a little bit cool. Geek pride is surely a new development in human relations, isn’t it? Just yesterday, I picked up on Weird Al’s new video, White & Nerdy, a brilliant parody of Chamillionaire’s Ridin’ Dirty. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or proud of the sheer number of things in that song that are true of me. It’s a weird mixture of both. When there is a whole series of trashy romance novels dedicated to nerd heroes, the times, they are a’changin’.
Perhaps it’s a generational thing. I’ve often thought that my generation is stuck in a perpetual teenagerdom. It’s like the adolescent hell that just won’t end for some people. Maybe the mainstream fascination with quirky oddness is the generational equivalent of going through a goth phase. Maybe somewhere along the line, “individuality” got permanently confused with “weird.” Which poses an interesting quandary for the Four, who gets his or her sense of identity and value from their unique, flawed, quirky persona. When everyone is trying their darnedest to be quirky, how does one stand out?
There’s always the option of moving to Canada, I suppose.
Girls and Secrets and Fifth-Graders, Oh My!
I was just cleaning Joshua’s room, and I found a piece of notebook paper folded in eighths. Now, as a former middle school girl myself, I know what a piece of notebook paper folded in eighths is: that’s a note right there, folks.
Not a note in the “can I borrow your social studies notes, I nodded off in class again” sense, but a note in the “do you like me, check yes or no” sense.
So being a sensible mom (mostly) I opened that puppy up and read it. Yup. A “do you like me” note from a fifth grader. Not only is Mr. Stud Puppy attracting the attention of girls, he’s attracting the attention of older girls. Older girls who can’t spell “fourth” and are weak in punctuation skills, but older girls nonetheless. Older girls who wear lipstick (or at least tinted gloss) apparently, as well.
So I wandered my low-key mom self back into the living room, and just sorta waved the open note in Joshua’s general direction. He literally fell off the couch.
“No! No, no, no, no, nooooooooo…”
So I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t upset, I just wanted to talk about it. He clammed up like… well, like a clam. I told him I wasn’t going to tease him. I told him that I wasn’t upset that girls thought he was cute–he is cute, and smart and funny (that got a smile from him). But I do get upset if there is anything that he feels like he can’t talk to me about.
I also mentioned that as his mom, I will always ask him questions about his personal life that he doesn’t particularly want to answer.
And I mentioned that the more he acts secretive, it is my motherly duty to snoop more to compensate.
And I finished off with a comment that if I hadn’t had to clean his room, I wouldn’t have run across the note.
Alrighty, folks. If anybody has any suggestions, I’m totally open.
Adios Shoutbox
I know everybody loves the shoutbox, but I had to uninstall it this weekend.
I was having to delete an average of four or more spam “comments” every day. I don’t know how I got on their hit list, but the spammers have been bombarding me in the Shoutbox, and the comments, too. And I just don’t have the time or patience to deal with it. And unfortunately, that plugin didn’t come with any spam-filtering features.
Plus, admit it, the novelty had worn off at least a bit, right?
Soup!
It was a most excellent day for soup here in the greater Palmyra area. Rainy, chilly and stormy equals “soup weather” as far as I’m concerned.
I went to Recipezaar looking for a good recipe, but then ended up making something off the cuff based on what I knew I had on hand. A tasty homemade bean with bacon soup.
Two cans of cannelloni beans, a can of chicken broth, heated slowly in my saucepan. I only had four slices of thick-cut bacon–not enough for breakfast for the family, but the perfect amount for soup. So I fried up the bacon, cut it up, and then sauteed diced carrots, celery and onion in the bacon grease. Added the bacon and the veggies to the beans and broth, with a dash of salt and garlic powder (I’d have used fresh garlic, but I was out.) Brought it up to a boil, then lowered the heat to a simmer. Served with tasty grilled cheeses all ’round.
What do you like to eat on rainy days?
Oh The Drama Goes Tech-Free
I am no longer the woman I was, folks. And that’s a good thing.
Five years ago, I didn’t know who I was, really. I didn’t know how strong I was. I didn’t know how smart I was. And I sure as heck didn’t know my own value, in any meaning of the word.
Over the last five years, I’ve become a very different person in many respects. Of course, some things remain the same. I’m still incredibly goofy. I still tend to overthink everything. I’m still verbose. I still love writing or anything that has to do with creativity. I still love my husband and family ferociously.
I’m still blonde (sort of).
Really, it was less a process of changing than it was a process of excavating and polishing what was already there. Readers over the age of ~30 will know what I mean when I say that what I mostly did was become more solidly who I already was under all the post-adolescent crap.
See, here I go again, rambling on instead of getting to my main point. I really need to work on that.
Here’s the concise, web-friendly version: I won’t be writing about the internet here anymore.
There’s no fun conspiracy-theory-inducing stuff going on. I’m now working full-time as a copywriter for a fairly big interactive agency. I get to spend 40+ hours per week thinking, talking and writing about the web. (And I do think of it as “getting to” not “having to”–that’s the benefit of a creative job search, but that’s a whole ‘nother topic.) In short, I get all the self-expression I could possibly want in regards to the web.
I have tons of interests that have nothing to do with internet marketing. Those topics have gotten short shrift here for the last six months or so of my spasmodic career and personal wranglings.
So what does that mean for you, my beloved readers? All two or three of you?
It means that this blog might just get vaguely interesting again. Based on the comments, except for poor OtherKat, nobody but me around here gives a flying fig for techy geeky stuff.
I’ll be writing about faith and spirituality, creativity and writing, relationships and personal growth. The stuff I know a little something about and am interested in. Oh, and as always, you’ll have front-row seats for the funny, funky, and otherwise noteworthy stuff going on in my personal life.
One last thing: even though my business is closing it’s doors, I still accept gifts of Twizzlers. Keep ‘em coming, people.
You say you want a resolution
This has been, in the words of Jonna, a most excellent Monday.
It feels like God stood up, walked to a podium, cleared His throat, and said…
“You may now return to normal.”
“I know that you haven’t had normal in a few years, so it may take some getting used to. And this new normal is not the same as your old normal–I’ve spent the last five years beta-testing it to get all the bugs worked out. It may take you some time to get used to the new features of this new and improved normal. You may have to play with it a bit at first.
“But here it is, freshly released and ready to be used. Enjoy.”
The office construction at my new job is not quite finished. There are still a few cables hanging from the ceiling. The owner’s office is still not finished, stranding him in the bullpen. But is now finished enough that I have my own real desk. It is massive and shaped like a kidney bean with a privacy screen curved across its curvy back.
They are also, I think, not 100% sure exactly what to do with me yet. I don’t think they were planning on hiring a copywriter who also could write and edit code. So my job description is somewhat amorphous at the moment, but should be firming up shortly. Rather like a jello mold. It’s all very exciting, but in a very normal sort of way.
Haven’t worked out my personal schedule quite yet. This getting home at six is going to take some planning. I am dusting off my GTD notes and my Flylady routines.
Have already started a morning prayer and Bible study routine. First things first, and all.
Okay, maybe we’re still getting “normal” out of the box, and sorting through the color-coded wires and cables. But it’s getting there. Really.
I can feel things turning. A long, hard season in my life has been in the process of ending for probably six months or more. And now the new season is creeping in as surely as Autumn is creeping in. So many things I thought I would be wrestling with for much longer just … really aren’t a factor anymore. Truly. I feel a deep sense of peace and acceptance right now.
This isn’t the end of my story: it may be the end of the prologue, though.
Arrivals and Departures
Chris’ dad arrived last night safely. Thanks for the prayers!
Noah Gage has arrived safely in Tanner-land as well (Check out Tanner and Jonna’s Blogs).
Chris’ parents will be departing for Tucson tomorrow.
His aunt Ruth is deteriorating quickly at Jewish right now, and will most likely be going Home within “hours or days.”
That’s about all I can manage on four hours sleep.
In Brief
Started the new job. It completely rocks. This will be a whole post. Soon.
Wrestling with some spiritual issues; but got some clarity and peace on it this week. Ditto.
As a condition of the new job, it’s official: by the end of the month, coffee cup studio will be no more. I feel very okay with this.
The blog will most likely be moving by the end of the month because of the above. Details to follow.
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