Thursday, March 19, 2009

Childhood choices... and my heart like a stable...

This post on Hope's blog caught at me the other day. Lots of "childhood choices" on that list that I'm going to need to think through in the coming days.

Annie closed a post with this quote the other day, that also struck me deeply, mostly because I understand the feeling of a soul very much like a stable these days:

“I myself am very glad that the divine child was born in a stable, because my soul is very much like a stable, filled with strange unsatisfied longings, with guilt and animal-like impulses, tormented by anxiety, inadequacy and pain. If the holy One could be born in such a place, the One can be born in me also. I am not excluded.”
-Morton Kelsey

Last Night and This Morning

I spent last night moving slowly.

This week has taken a toll that I find hard to understand for myself, never mind explain here, and I was quite spent by the time I arrived home from work last night.

I traded a few emails with a friend, and listened to some music she suggested, and smiled at some shared "double-take" moments.

I showered, and painted my toenails and fingernails.

I ate dinner.

When we got in the car yesterday morning, my roommate and I realized that we'd failed to take meat out of the freezer for our dinner. Knowing how exhausted I was, she generously offered to make soup that evening if I would take the meat out of the freezer to start thawing when I got home from work (since I almost always get home first). She makes this soup with ground beef and orzo, with lots of vegetables and a tomato base that I actually really like. We laughed as we ate it with toasted fresh Italian bread from a local grocery store, that I like this one so much. Because generally, I don't like anything with ground beef (too many years of eating a wide variety of "we can't afford real meat" casseroles growing up), tomato is definitely not one of my favorite flavors (though it's better cooked than raw!), and as a rule I'm not a big fan of soup!

And, I took the time to watch "America's Next Top Model". Yes, I know, not exactly intelligent fare. And, to be honest, I feel a bit guilty for finding amusement in the cattiness and failure of others. But it's also just a little bit fun to mock the ridiculous nature of it all. And, since I'm interested in photography, I do genuinely enjoy seeing the results of the various photo shoots.

All that, and I managed to make it through my nightly Lenten readings (a challenge these days due to a lot of internal factors) and still be in bed before 11 pm. Plus, thanks to the "miracle drugs" (and by drugs I mean a natural supplement that is working surprisingly well for me) I've been taking for a while now, I actually got some sleep.

Sleep is a very good thing in my world. Especially when it's sleep that is mostly dreamless. At the very least, sleeping a bit more means that I don't wake up with the nausea that sometimes dogs my days. Which means it is a far easier thing for me to focus at work, and to at least reach for a relatively positive outlook on the day. To find the moments of joy in the midst of the hard times, instead of being overwhelmed completely by the hard times.

Coming together in Poverty (On Community)

A couple sentences in yesterday's email from the Henri Nouwen society struck me, and I thought I'd share. Actually, on second thought, after re-reading, I'll share the whole thing, because it's all good stuff, and just put the sentences that really struck me in italics.

Coming Together in Poverty

There are many forms of poverty: economic poverty, physical poverty, emotional poverty, mental poverty, and spiritual poverty. As long as we relate primarily to each other's wealth, health, stability, intelligence, and soul strength, we cannot develop true community. Community is not a talent show in which we dazzle the world with our combined gifts. Community is the place where our poverty is acknowledged and accepted, not as something we have to learn to cope with as best as we can but as a true source of new life.

Living community in whatever form - family, parish, twelve-step program, or intentional community - challenges us to come together at the place of our poverty, believing that there we can reveal our richness.