This is Wednesday and It Looks Like Rain August 30, 2009

Life is many casual moments that become a history and build a life. There are formal events and inspirational stories but overwhelmingly the short stories of our days are full of folly, adventure, intrigue and simple bliss. I’ve been thinking a lot about David Foster Wallace’s ‘This is Water’ speech from the 2005 graduation ceremony at Kenyon College. His point was that there are very few things that we control in life but we do control our own thoughts.

We have the opportunity to learn from our experiences and grow with them. To grow our own personal selves independently from those around us we need space and time. This week I’ve wrapped myself in my work, in my romantic relationship and involved myself in the events and lives of my friends. These are all good things. However, I am a believer in the simple messages of God, signs or fate; whatever you believe in or want to call it. Anyway, in one week I have had two homeless men speak to me.

The first was crossing the street on my way out of the office and to my car. He yelled something at the man two people ahead of me. He yelled another statement at the woman in front of me. And as I cringed and waited for some come to Jesus statement or to be told I was a whore by a stranger I was surprised. The man got in my face and yelled, “This is Wednesday!” I laughed the rest of the way to my car.

The second comment came two days later from a man holding a cardboard sign, waiting at the stoplight for a handout. As I held my umbrella with both hands and tried to cross quickly to avoid puddles, the man said, “Looks like it might rain.” As it was already raining, I said, “You’re right. Have a good weekend.” He returned the sentiment and I spent the rest of the walk smiling.

I was thinking about how simple these ‘revelations’ were and yet in a way, they were profound. They spoke to me on two levels. First, they were both casual statements on the obvious and based on well known facts. Second, they were a reminder that the simple things in life are often the things we take most for granted and forget to appreciate.

This is Wednesday; I only have two days left in the business week. This is Wednesday I have volleyball tonight and I can appreciate that. This is Wednesday, the work day is over and I can fill the rest of my day in any way I see fit. This is Wednesday.

“Looks like it might rain.” Yes it does. It’s cloudy and my feet are wet so chances are it might continue to rain. Looks like it might rain, I should wear a jacket. Looks like it might rain, especially when it is indeed raining. Looks like it might rain.

These two homeless men provided simple testaments to the factual existence of certain realities in day to day living. These passing conversations are what I thought about this week. These men I do not know and most likely will never see again. They both changed the way I looked at the world if only for an evening or two. They reminded me that I do indeed have the power to think about whatever I want. I have the power to enjoy my day, even when I’m stuck in a dead end job I hate. I have the power to smile and laugh because even though there is a lot to do in the evenings, I don’t have to do it all. I have the power to live each simple moment to the fullest and with a calm appreciation for what is and what may be.

After all, it’s Wednesday and it looks like it might rain.

Pleasing Obsession August 17, 2009

Jack’s  need to always be organized and responsible was the driving force that made me want to possess him. I coveted his eyes, his hands, his lips on mine, and the rest of his body. He was a constant distraction all summer. There was so little I could do to stop thinking of Jack, talking about Jack. What began as summer love quickly devolved into an ongoing obsession.

As though my mind were not my own, all that was me melted into a selfless pleasing shell. My only desire was to touch him, to amuse him in some way so he’d love me. I wanted Jack to love me most, love me best, and make me the center of his universe. I wanted his world to revolve around me. I wanted him to need me the way I did him. In a jealousy driven obsession, I lost myself in emotion thinking it was love.

The obsession with Jack concealed the fear I felt of loosing him. I wanted Jack to know the pain that was my world when he was not around. I justified my obsession with unequivocally leading questions, “Does that make him my one?” Never considering if the needs I wanted to meet for him, were needs that he was able or unable, willing or unwilling to meet for me. I sought anything to keep me from thinking about the shallow one-sided nature of our relationship. I almost made the insurmountable leap to, “He could be my one for always.” He just might have been if not for inevitable growth that happens as a young woman ages. In a way, I never thought I wasn’t right for Jack but on some level I always knew he wasn’t right for me.

The Power and Beauty of Silence August 17, 2009

Silence exists in a vacuum. There can be no other source. For I have heard the sound of silence and the fury that lies therein. There is no quiet peaceful time. Chances to be alone with your thoughts, yes. Attempts at relaxation, yes. But honest, truly honest silence does not exist. If it did though would it be that eerie fear that consumes you when you go in for a cat scan, or the warm vibrations that enter your being when you take a hot bath? I wonder if silence is scary or comforting, warm and mushy or hard like cold steel.

In a way silence is a lot like God. We have faith that it, she, he exists. Yet no one has God’s phone number. There’s prayer, some might argue, but isn’t that what happens when we are sitting in supposed silence? Asking the Lord for advice, filling even our most quiet and vulnerable moments with the ramblings of our train of thought. What if prayer is simply an inner monologue we never heard before, because of all of the noise?

If prayer exists in silence and silence doesn’t exist, does God exist? Obviously not physically, but spiritually? Is God silence? If God is silence is Satan noise? If so are only the deaf and dumb to be saved from the internal eternal noise of hell? Is noise poisonous? Well it must be if we are constantly seeking silence to free ourselves from its clutches. Is anger noise? Is peace silence? Is God noise and the Devil’s temptation silence? If God exists in noise and so much of noise is angry, is God angry? Or is God the sound of silence? Those little moments when we take the time to hear the things we’ve missed. Like the sound of the wind blowing, waves waving, the sun shining, hearts beating, even ourselves breathing. Then certainly all these things must also be God. Thus God is everything and every thing is God.

What is independent? August 4, 2009

Independence feels like a long process but it is also a sudden realization when you know that you have it. Knowing something is right and doing the right thing are two very different things. Knowing what you have to do and having the courage to do it are two very different things. It’s that moment when you recognize you’re not asking someone else to do for you; you are doing things for yourself. It happens when make the first call to your doctor’s office. The first major purchase with your own money has an almost liberating feeling. It’s a personal bank account. When you spend the money you’ve earned on toilet paper and garbage bags. It’s taking on the responsibility of caring for yourself and walking away when it’s easier to fight. Knowing when your parents make a mistake, anyone but you can correct them. It is the realization that calling every day is more for Mom’s benefit than for yours. Knowing when you really need something, Dad doesn’t have it but he still sends it. It’s the understanding that you will always mean more to your younger siblings than you can imagine. It’s remembering Grandma’s birthday all on your own and calling her. It’s paying your own way, just because. And most of all it is the realization that you are never fully independent. You will always need someone’s help.