Here's the plan.
In a little while, L. will be home.
We're headed out to a Stampede BBQ supper that's being put on by the church I grew up attending. I know, I know, I generally avoid anything connected with Stampede like the plague (unless of course you have out of town visitors, in which case a visit becomes obligatory), but I've got to admit that the idea of free hamburgers and various potluck salads and desserts is really appealing to me at the end of a rather long week. I'd love a good hamburger, and I definitely love the idea of not having to cook.
Then home.
It's a priority tonight that I get a full workout in. I've been trying to do some yoga workouts lately, to help improve my health, and some muscle problems I struggle with. The aim is to do one of the 20 minute dvd's at least 4 or 5 times a week. The last two nights have been quite interrupted (I had to stop in the middle last night, and never managed to get back to it to finish), and tonight I need to make getting all the way through one a priority.
After that, a long shower, and then I'm going to treat myself to some reading I think. I'm just going to relax.
Tomorrow promises to be full, with errands and sorting and unpacking. With prayerfully revisiting memories as I unpack and re-display the various "altar stones" I've collected over the years.
So tonight, tonight I'm going to try to rest a little.
(of course, my plans seem to change regularly these days, so who knows what will ultimately end up happening!)
Friday, July 10, 2009
Quote of the Day
From the calendar at that sits on my desk...
"You have no time to occupy your thoughts with complacency or consideration of what others will think. Your business is simply, 'What will my Father in heaven think?'" (Saint Katharine Drexel)
"You have no time to occupy your thoughts with complacency or consideration of what others will think. Your business is simply, 'What will my Father in heaven think?'" (Saint Katharine Drexel)
Henri on Wounds
two more challenging thoughts on woundedness from Henri Nouwen...
Tending Our Own Wounds First
Our own experience with loneliness, depression, and fear can become a gift for others, especially when we have received good care. As long as our wounds are open and bleeding, we scare others away. But after someone has carefully tended to our wounds, they no longer frighten us or others.
When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.
Listening With Our Wounds
To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person's attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing.
Tending Our Own Wounds First
Our own experience with loneliness, depression, and fear can become a gift for others, especially when we have received good care. As long as our wounds are open and bleeding, we scare others away. But after someone has carefully tended to our wounds, they no longer frighten us or others.
When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.
Listening With Our Wounds
To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person's attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing.
All over the place...
My thoughts are (as usual perhaps?) all over the place this morning.
I keep hearing people complain about the weather we've been having. It's rained a lot this week. Or been sunny for part of the day and then settled into rain showers. I've been loving it. I could quite happily have this weather most of the time year round. Maybe I've just been needing the grayer skies, and the feeling of washing that comes with all of this rain... I don't know... but it's felt needed and good... soothing to a dry and weary soul these days...
I keep getting odd cuts in the palm of my right hand. I've had three or four of them this week, and they're a bit painful. Not deep enough to even bleed, just sort of breaks in the surface of the skin, bad enough to sting deeply, and pull when I move my hand.
I'm likely spending a chunk of today helping with some office moves at our company. Because, you know, I haven't done enough moving the last few weeks!
I have ambitious plans to be far more settled in our place by the end of the weekend. Plans that start with borrowing my dad's truck tomorrow, a trip to Ikea, and another possible trip to the dump. Probably also a trip to goodwill, and a trip to the recycling depot as well.
I managed to do two loads of laundry last night without the dryer in our apartment setting off our smoke detector. That was a welcome relief. I really do think that we have the most sensitive smoke detector on the planet.
I'm laughing at the truth of this cartoon at The Naked Pastor today... Wouldn't it be nice if more people told us these things at the outset?
I can't express how incredibly thankful I am that it's nearly the weekend. And that it's a weekend mostly without plans. No weddings. No moves. Just some cleaning and settling and probably some purging of belongings. A planned trip to the zoo with a friend. Plans to attend church. Maybe pancakes - it's been a while since I've had pancakes.
And much of the settling will need to be prayerfully done. Much of the unpacking that I have left are the deeply personal items. The reminders of times and places and peoples. Bits and pieces that have collected over the years. Altar stones really. So many circumstances have changed and shifted in the last year, and I am both dreading and looking forward to prayerfully arranging those memories around my space. To considering and reconsidering. To creating a space of order and peace and prayer around me again.
I keep hearing people complain about the weather we've been having. It's rained a lot this week. Or been sunny for part of the day and then settled into rain showers. I've been loving it. I could quite happily have this weather most of the time year round. Maybe I've just been needing the grayer skies, and the feeling of washing that comes with all of this rain... I don't know... but it's felt needed and good... soothing to a dry and weary soul these days...
I keep getting odd cuts in the palm of my right hand. I've had three or four of them this week, and they're a bit painful. Not deep enough to even bleed, just sort of breaks in the surface of the skin, bad enough to sting deeply, and pull when I move my hand.
I'm likely spending a chunk of today helping with some office moves at our company. Because, you know, I haven't done enough moving the last few weeks!
I have ambitious plans to be far more settled in our place by the end of the weekend. Plans that start with borrowing my dad's truck tomorrow, a trip to Ikea, and another possible trip to the dump. Probably also a trip to goodwill, and a trip to the recycling depot as well.
I managed to do two loads of laundry last night without the dryer in our apartment setting off our smoke detector. That was a welcome relief. I really do think that we have the most sensitive smoke detector on the planet.
I'm laughing at the truth of this cartoon at The Naked Pastor today... Wouldn't it be nice if more people told us these things at the outset?
I can't express how incredibly thankful I am that it's nearly the weekend. And that it's a weekend mostly without plans. No weddings. No moves. Just some cleaning and settling and probably some purging of belongings. A planned trip to the zoo with a friend. Plans to attend church. Maybe pancakes - it's been a while since I've had pancakes.
And much of the settling will need to be prayerfully done. Much of the unpacking that I have left are the deeply personal items. The reminders of times and places and peoples. Bits and pieces that have collected over the years. Altar stones really. So many circumstances have changed and shifted in the last year, and I am both dreading and looking forward to prayerfully arranging those memories around my space. To considering and reconsidering. To creating a space of order and peace and prayer around me again.
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