Monday, April 12, 2010

Daily 5 - Day 243

Today's Daily 5:
  1. Crossed the first hurdle in the process of insuring the car I bought, and the rates are actually quite reasonable for the moment.
  2. Egg rolls for supper.
  3. Chocolate cream pie.
  4. Did payroll on my own, without my boss, at work today.  Proud of that.
  5. painted my fingernails and toenails.

Haiti Again...

This slideshow from Medecins Sans Frontieres is powerful.

A Bunch from Henri

Over the busy last few weeks, some good stuff from Henri Nouwen has been collecting in my inbox again, including the following tid-bits:

The Beauty of Shyness


There is something beautiful about shyness, even though in our culture shyness is not considered a virtue. On the contrary, we are encouraged to be direct, look people straight in the eyes, tell them what is on our minds, and share our stories without a blush.

But this unflinching soul-baring, confessional attitude quickly becomes boring. It is like trees without shadows. Shy people have long shadows, where they keep much of their beauty hidden from intruders' eyes. Shy people remind us of the mystery of life that cannot be simply explained or expressed. They invite us to reverent and respectful friendships and to a wordless being together in love.

The Importance of Receiving


Receiving often is harder than giving. Giving is very important: giving insight, giving hope, giving courage, giving advice, giving support, giving money, and, most of all, giving ourselves. Without giving there is no brotherhood and sisterhood.

But receiving is just as important, because by receiving we reveal to the givers that they have gifts to offer. When we say, "Thank you, you gave me hope; thank you, you gave me a reason to live; thank you, you allowed me to realise my dream," we make givers aware of their unique and precious gifts. Sometimes it is only in the eyes of the receivers that givers discover their gifts.

Daring to Become Dependent


When someone gives us a watch but we never wear it, the watch is not really received. When someone offers us an idea but we do not respond to it, that idea is not truly received. When someone introduces us to a friend but we ignore him or her, that friend does not feel well received.

Receiving is an art. It means allowing the other to become part of our lives. It means daring to become dependent on the other. It asks for the inner freedom to say: "Without you I wouldn't be who I am." Receiving with the heart is therefore a gesture of humility and love. So many people have been deeply hurt because their gifts were not well received. Let us be good receivers.

Friends as Reminders of Our Truth


Sometimes our sorrow overwhelms us so much that we no longer can believe in joy. Life just seems a cup filled to the brim with war, violence, rejection, loneliness, and endless disappointments.

At times like this we need our friends to remind us that crushed grapes can produce tasty wine. It might be hard for us to trust that any joy can come from our sorrow, but when we start taking steps in the direction of our friends' advice, even when we ourselves are not yet able to feel the truth of what they say, the joy that seemed to be lost may be found again and our sorrow may become livable.

Authority and Obedience


Authority and obedience can never be divided, with some people having all the authority while others only have to obey. This separation causes authoritarian behaviour on the one side and doormat behaviour on the other. It perverts authority as well as obedience. A person with great authority who has nobody to be obedient to is in great spiritual danger. A very obedient person who has no authority over anyone is equally in danger.

Jesus spoke with great authority, but his whole life was complete obedience to his Father, and Jesus, who said to his Father, "Let it be as you, not I, would have it" (Matthew 26:39), has been given all authority in heaven and on earth (see Matthew 28:18). Let us ask ourselves: Do we live our authority in obedience and do we live our obedience with authority?

The Authority of Compassion


Mostly we think of people with great authority as higher up, far away, hard to reach. But spiritual authority comes from compassion and emerges from deep inner solidarity with those who are "subject" to authority. The one who is fully like us, who deeply understands our joys and pains or hopes and desires, and who is willing and able to walk with us, that is the one to whom we gladly give authority and whose "subjects" we are willing to be.

It is the compassionate authority that empowers, encourages, calls forth hidden gifts, and enables great things to happen. True spiritual authorities are located in the point of an upside-down triangle, supporting and holding into the light everyone they offer their leadership to.

Stupid Little Dog

I will, in a few weeks, likely feel like laughing about last night's sleep.  But today I definitely do not.

I haven't said a lot here about life at Grandma's but it's been really, really hard.  There are lots of reasons for this, most of which are not yet fair game for public discussion, but one of the reasons is my intense sensitivity to spiritual activity.  Because it turns out that her house has some uniquely dark spiritual stuff going on.  Which means I mostly haven't slept well in the month and a half or so that I've been living there.  Nightmares, weird encounters, odd wakings.  These have been the stuff of life for me.  Something pouncing on me in the night has never been benign, and it's been noticeably bad in this house.

Grandma has a stupid little dog named Teddy.  Teddy has only once in the time that I've lived there dared to come downstairs and slip into my room.  (I don't have a bedroom door, just a curtain that doesn't reach the floor, so it's easy for her to get in if she wants.)

Last night I was actually sleeping.  Deeply.  For the first time in weeks.  And the stupid little dog, who is black, and silent, snuck downstairs at one in the morning, slipped under the curtain, and pounced on me.  Waking me from a sound sleep, and throwing me into an adrenaline rushing panic.

And then she wouldn't leave my bedroom.  I had to chase her out.

Her odd behaviour made me wonder if she'd come to get me because something was wrong with grandma, so I grabbed my cell phone and trekked upstairs.  Nope.  Sleeping soundly.

I was just nicely calming myself out of the adrenaline rush and panic, when the stupid little thing managed to slip back downstairs and under the curtain without me noticing, planting herself by my bed and breathing heavily.  Hello adrenaline.

That time I yelled at her, and she went running.

Moments later, I heard banging around upstairs, grabbed my phone again, grumpily crawled out of bed, and trekked upstairs.  There was grandma, standing in the kitchen, waiting.  Seems Teddy had needed to make a trip outside and decided I'd be the convenient one to wake.

I'm trying to figure out how to puppy proof my door-less bedroom.  Because that kind of startled waking cannot keep happening.

It's bad enough to deal with the odd spiritual stuff.  I really don't need to add a stupid little dog to the mix.

Puppy-proofing will be the first order of business tonight.

(And, I might add, that none of this would happen if Grandma would just close her bedroom door when she sleeps - then Teddy would be in with her, and I wouldn't have to worry about sneak attacks when I'm sound asleep.)

It took 3 hours for the adrenaline to wear off and sleep to return.  Just enough time to catch an hour or so before I had to get up.

In a few weeks, this might be funny.  Right now, it's still making me growl.