The Clock is Ticking

I went because I don't sleep.

I left with a psych consult and a scrip. (two medical-ese terms I'd never have used before watching E.R.)

I don't know how I got to this place. I'm supposed to be better than this, somehow. I've always handled "the blues" by myself and successfully. I guess. Maybe that's not being fair to myself. A lot led to this point.


One of my friends told us yesterday that his supervisor signed an email to him with "have good day on purpose."

What a great closing, great piece of advice.

The other day, in a bookstore, I found a book called Happiness is a Choice. Sure it is.

No, I'm not being sarcastic--happiness is a choice. It's just not a choice all of us can make and follow through with. Sometimes we aren't equipped to follow through. Sometimes, things deeper-seated than our thoughts are in the way.

I, on purpose, expect to have good, good days. Unfortunately, something in my head limits that sometimes. That's part of the reason why, though I'm surprised at how my visit turned out, I'm not..really.

P sent me this today. I think I'm supposed to dance to it. Really would prefer a glass of wine and a snuggle.

"The inner fire is the most important thing mankind possesses." ~Edith Sodergran

Isn't this true? Maybe not the most important thing, but without some sort of inner fire, what drives us?

That's what I've been trying to figure out lately. Just what drives me.

I know..I know..I've been absent yet again.

I've been learning to breathe.

I've been daring to move.

I've been figuring out home.

Obviously, I've been listening to a lot of Switchfoot, too. Actually, a lot of their stuff (and Creed's, and Keith Urban's, and--of all things--Barenaked Ladies, is what hits my playlist when I'm learning to breathe.)

In all seriousness. I've been floundering. Emotionally, psychologically, physically...you name a "-ally" and that's what I've been struggling with. But since I've got a new focus, I plan to be more intentional with writing here and just life in general.

I've spent enough time learning how to breathe. Now it's time to dare myself to breathe. And that's what I'm doing. Starting today.

While I gear up to do that (and yes, there's a post in the works for it, as well as a makeover for the ol' Clock), here's a BNL song that I love...because it makes me giggle.

I can't believe I arranged my evening based on a reality TV show last night. That irks me.

I think what irks me more is that the show was "Jon & Kate +8." We all knew what was coming, how could ANYONE have been surprised. I can't believe I took pleasure in watching the disintegration of a marriage, complete with callousness and bitterness on air last night. But it was sold to me. I had to watch it.

I didn't realize just how ridiculous I was until much later last night. A good friend called. C. has recently gotten hooked on Jon & Kate. Who knows why--he's a boy and there are no good explanations for anything he does. *wink*

We got to talking about why the world has progressed to the point that we can't wait for the opportunity to watch someone else's pain, why we live for drama. Not literally all of us "we," but we, society in general. It's really rather sad that we've allowed ourselves to become this way.

We all know the why and the how. It's just really sad. And I understand that this is why some people don't mind not ever watching TV. It really isn't worth the drama or the pointless shows. Reality TV shows aren't for showing the world at it's best, they're for showing the world at it's worst.

Our whole conversation left me in a weird sea of emotions--the one I liked the least was having to admit that I'd succumbed to the ridiculousness. But if someone had to point it out (with out pointing and laughing, of course), I'm rather glad it was C.

I'm not understanding something that's happening when I go to bed lately.

I fall asleep, on my back, small dog (The WonderDog!) curled up next to my right leg. I'm on the left side of the bed. He's snuggled in between the quilt and the flat sheet.

By morning, he's in the same place. Nearly exactly. I'm on the right side of the bed, on my back.

I know I'm not rolling over him, and unless there's a really good reason, he sleeps through the night.

I've been absent again. And now I'm tardy. Over at RevGalBlogPals, the Friday Five theme a few days ago was bugs.

Sophia shared..

This got me thinking about spiritual insect trivia: Did you know that medieval mystics and theologians esteemed the bee for its dedicated work and transformation of ordinary ingredients into sweetness? That Spider Woman is an important creator Goddess to many Native American tribes? Or that Francis of Assisi was reminded of Jesus not only by lambs being led to slaughter, but also by worms (think "I am a worm and no man" from the Psalms)-- so he picked them up and took them out of stomping-vulnerable spots?!

In that spirit, this week's Friday Five is a magical mystery tour through God's garden of creepy crawlies!

1. Ladybugs or ladybirds? Pillbugs or roly-polys? Jesus bugs or water skeeters? Any other interesting regional or familial name variations?
Ladybugs (because Lady Bird was a Johnson who planted bluebonnets on the highways into Austin). Pillbugs--which are my favorite funny insects! I had to look up "Jesus bugs." I've seen them, but just called them "water bugs" which seems generic but covers so many things.

2. Stomp on spiders, carry them outside, or peacefully co-exist?
If they are coming towards me, stomp the boogers. If they are minding their own business and I'm not worried about them coming near anytime soon, I can peacefully co-exist. But the second they move, I see it as an attack.

3. Favorite insect?
Dragonflies. There's something peaceful about them

4. Least favorite?
Mosquitoes. Roaches. June bugs.

5. Got any good bug stories to share?
I hate june bugs. They freak me out and inevitably, they flock to my front door and attack when I open it. But The WonderDog...he LOVES june bugs. He'll catch them in his mouth and just hold them there until they stop buzzing. Then he'll spit that one out and catch another. He's such a nut!


For more Friday Five Posts, visit here.

Just stopping in. I actually have some things I want to post, but must get past some things at work, first.

Instead..these are the random thoughts in my head as of late.

1. "Hank the Cowdog" is still my favorite book character for young readers. The "Head of Ranch Security" guards my office, even.

2. I've been dared to try being a vegetarian for a month or so. I must say, it's not going too badly. I've only fallen off the wagon once and considering that the food (which is always wonderful) did a number on my tummy, I've learned to avoid meat again for the rest of the month. I haven't given up dairy products or eggs though.

3. I'm damn proud of myself. I saved $50 at the Kroger Friday. And only $18 of that was because of my Kroger card.

4. I'm going to rearrange my bedroom again. I'm also going to change the colors in my bathroom, to better match the bedroom. I'm gonna go with the red.

5. The Rockets kicked ass. YAY!

In some parts of the country, schools have a whole week off right now--at least that's what I learned from Songbird over RevGal's this week. I have to admit, I'm envious. I wish I could have a week off now. Our only break between Christmas holidays and Spring Break is MLK, Jr. Day. And while a 3-day weekend is nice, that's a looooong freakin' stretch.

In the spirit of taking a break, she poses the question..

Tell us how you would spend:

1. a 15 minute break Eyes closed, piece of dark chocolate melting in my mouth and in silence. In fact, I try to do it a couple times a day (not easy in a high school).

2. an afternoon off Hm, depends on the afternoon. If it's pretty out, then I'm in a hammock reading a book. If it's not, then maybe a movie, or curling up on the couch with some knitting or crochet and watching a movie at home.

3. an unexpected free day Again, depends on the day..if it's pretty, I'm all about the zoo or the beach, just something to get outside. If it's not so pretty, I like to bake and watch movies.

4. a week's vacation Somewhere away..Spain, London, out at the ranch with a stack of books a mile high

5. a sabbatical I would LOVE to spend a sabbatical in a beach house, not too far from a town or smallish city, reading, writing, studying.

For other ideas for taking a break, check out today's post at RevGalBlogPals.

You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. ~Jack London

You ever have those days? (in my case weeks and months) Those days when there's just nothing inspirational in your world? At least, you don't think there is.

I'm in that rut right now. It's not that there aren't inspirational things in my world--my students, my WonderDog, music speaking to me, fabulous friends who make me think, The Man. There's a list of a hundred things, I'm sure.

It's just finding that one thing that makes me pick up a pen.

Sigh.

In the background today, things are working on my soul.

The first is the Tuesday Lectionary Leanings over at RevGalBlogPals. Yesterday's lectionary pulled from one of my favorite passages from Isaiah 40.

26 Lift your eyes and look to the heavens:
Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one,
and calls them each by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
not one of them is missing.

I don't know that I've ever come across the passages referenced in my friend's blog yesterday (over at EnglishBibleStudies) and connected them to the Isaiah passage. They're playing together in my mind today.

I'm not yet sure where this post will go, it's still marinating in my head. I'll be back later.

This weekend has left me feeling a little weird. I had things on my mind anyway, important things. And then events left me topsy-turvy.

An early morning phone call, completely unexpected as most (if not all) pre-dawn calls are, upset me. It was a beg for help. Poor choices had been made, alcohol was involved. I knew this person needed the help. Knew that I was probably the only person who would be able and willing to help him in short order. I agreed to help, angrily, but I did agree.

My first feeling was anger--how dare he call me for help when he was like that. When I finally got to where he was, I felt a great deal of pity for him. I still do.

And then I felt some fear. Not of this person, but of this situation. I lived this once before. It's hell.

Getting upset.

Getting a few drinks.

Getting completely drunk.

Making a phone call to the only person you think cares.

I spent time in a relationship that seemed to be a series of this same scenario. The rest of the time was wondering what would set it off again. It's not as if it happened often, and that's not Jayne in denial talking. It really didn't. But 6 months in, I knew I shouldn't be there.

I stayed for 18 months.

I knew I couldn't "fix" him. But I feared that if I left, no one would help him when he got like that. He'd taken care of me through some things and I felt like I owed him my care. To be fair, I did love him. Knowing better didn't change that.

So, when it happened this weekend, with someone else, I was immediately dumped back into those feelings. It didn't matter that I don't have feelings for this 2nd person like I did the one before. I relived the feeling of not being able to breathe because I was so busy worrying.

The difference was, this time I was angry.

I often worry that getting angry at someone isn't right. And I don't just mean a little upset. When I truly get angry, I cuss, I'm mean, and it is far better that the person shut up and get out of the way until I cool off.

I was angry that this person thought it would be okay to pull me into this. I've no problem with someone asking me for help, but to drag me into a situation that I've made it clear I don't approve of and wouldn't be found in otherwise is another story.

I think I did do one thing right, this weekend. I didn't speak in anger. I've no doubt that it was glaringly apparent on my face. But I bit my tongue. I wanted to yell, he certainly deserved me being harsh.

But, I'm reading today, just randomly, as I tend to do between Bible studies. And I'm realizing that even Jesus was angry. I think we forget sometimes, in that leap between the Old Testament God and the New Testament Jesus, that anger from our Father was still present once Jesus came. We see those stories--Jesus with the tax collectors or the pharisees and saduccees--but we don't always assign anger to Jesus. (Interestingly, I wasn't expecting this at all, but RC Sproul's daily podcast touches on that same idea.)

I think where I'm going with this is that anger for the sake of anger isn't, obviously, ok. Anger with good reason is. Of course, you can't let this stop the work God is doing in or through your life. Christ certainly didn't. (What's that taught later? Romans 8:28?) It would have been insanely easy for me to ignore the phone this weekend after the first drunken phone call. But, this person knows I've got a big heart and will do what I can to help someone.

Maybe he was just using me. I don't know and I don't want to know. But I did get the opportunity to say to him that it was high time he got back into church. I don't know if he did or not. I know I tried, and that's really all that can be expected of me--to try, to plant a seed, to show others Christ through my actions.

It's been bizarro the last few weeks. Things happening, trying to make sense of things. So, this is sort of an update post, but more a chance for me to meander....no, mosey. I like that word better. *grin*

We've started a weight loss challenge at work. An old friend of mine, P, was a personal trainer in another life and volunteered to be the person yelling at me when I detour from the straight and narrow of diet and exercise. He was rather mean the first day (before I'd actually started), and we've only actually met once since then because of previous engagements. But that one day I'd made progress--down by 4 lbs. I'm still steadily dropping so that's good.

On that note, I'm down by 10 pounds from where I was 3 weeks ago. I'm like, totally flabbergasted. Seriously. I'm not sick and I'm not starving myself. I'm not dreaming about food and eating a head of iceberg lettuce so that something's in my stomach.

Yesterday, I found out that someone I didn't know was reading this blog a few years ago had a read a post about himself. And it was clearly about him. I never used his name, but you couldn't miss the references (location, events, etc.).

I wish I could say he was flattered. That he was touched that I would write about him with such frankness. But then I'd be a liar, now wouldn't I?

I know I've mentioned more than once the danger of words on a screen. And there are days that I write things that I probably shouldn't. And things that are on a screen leave out so many things. I knew better than to write what I did then. I wasn't raised to speak ill of others, though I'm guilty of it. I wasn't raised to be hurtful, and in this case I obviously was. Some time later, he told me what was going on in his life at the time. I was ashamed then of what I'd written--it obviously wasn't fair.

To his credit, he's not said anything about it since reading that post. And he's stayed my friend. In fact, he's busy whipping my overweight self into shape---what kind of person does that after so personal an attack?

Someone pretty damn special, and a much bigger person than I was at the time. I'd give a thousand reasons for what I said and the hurt I caused if it would do any good. Instead, I'll just own up to the truth.

Sometimes I'm a hateful bitch. But I'm less so today than I was yesterday. I'm sorry for what I said, and I will do my level best to not do that to you again.

I looked around yesterday and realized I have 6 different UFOs in my house.

Un-Finished Objects.

I crochet and embroider. In the last year, I've finished exactly 4 objects and gifted them away. For December birthdays and Christmas gifts. That's right, December...last year.

So, my goal this Christmas was simple. Learn to knit. So that I can have other UFOs lying around.

So, I did learn to knit. I found a great little CD that had pictures and live motion directions. And then I looked around and saw the UFOs. And formed a new goal.

Finish one of them. Any of them..just one of them, before I start a new one.

I picked the socks. I figure those are relatively small and should be the easiest to finish up. Then there is prayer shawl (which is 2/3 finish), 2 afghans (each of which is 1/2 finished), a set of pillow cases to embroider, and 1 of a set of pillow cases to embroider (yes, 1, the other is already on my bed and has been for 18 months, sigh.).

Plus, I learned to knit... so I imagine I'll start something with that new skill.

This morning, I've been watching Prince Caspian. I hadn't yet seen the movie, just never had time to hit the theaters when it was there, so I'd bought the DVD during the week. I love The Chronicles of Narnia books. I re-read the whole series about once a year, beginning to end. In story order rather than the publishing order. I guess reading isn't really the right word, though. Actually, I devour them. They take me back to when I was little, listening to my 4th grade teacher read them to us a chapter at a time. But they also fill me with hope.

Last night I watched The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Regardless of whether C.S. Lewis intended to fill the books with Christian symbolism, it's there. It's really not hard to find it, and it doesn't take an active imagination to see it. It warms me to see it, reminds me that Christians, true Christians, cannot help but have Christ seep into everything they are and do.

I love the credits version of Switchfoot's song "This is Home." From those lyrics..

So everyday starts with a magic spark,
I've got my hopes high with second start,
we are miracles, every breath is magic...
So you give yourself away, with your miracle heart,
yeah, just to be alive is a magic art,
we are miracles, every breath is magic...

Aren't those beautiful? It's such a simple way of thinking about ourselves.

Recently, I was asked how I get through tough times. It's not secret, to those who know me, what my greatest pain is right now. To get through, I remind myself to breathe, and to be thankful that I can. And, frankly, it's a miracle that I can hurt, that I can cry over what upsets and scares me.

I can't really explain why, but Prince Caspian had me crying this morning. Towards the end, when I knew how the story would end, and that High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy would be leaving Narnia again. And knowing that, as the story plays out in the books, Peter and Susan will never return there, because they will have grown up too much. What started as a trickle of tears quickly became great gulping sobs.

We do that, though, don't we? We outgrow childlike faith. Or think we do. Wouldn't be amazing if Peter and Susan could return, this time bringing their own children with them?

As an aside...

C.S Lewis's famous series of children's stories were published between 1950 and 1956, in the following order:

1. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950)

2. Prince Caspian(1951)

3. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)

4. The Silver Chair (1953)

5. The Horse and His Boy (1954)

6. The Magicians Nephew(1955)

7. The Last Battle (1956)

All current editions of the books, however, number them in a slightly different order (this is the story order):

1. The Magicians Nephew

2. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe

3. The Horse and His Boy

4. Prince Caspian

5. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

6. The Silver Chair

7. The Last Battle

I found this information in the article "In What Order Should the Narnia Books Be Read?"
By Andrew Rilstone

"Imagine a complex, multi-cultural society that annually holds an elaborate winter festival, one that lasts not simply a few days, but several weeks. This great festival celebrates the birth of the Lord and Saviour of the world, the prince of peace, a man who is divine. People mark the festival with great abundance- feasting, drinking and gift giving....." (Richard Horsley- The Liberation of Christmas)

But who is that Saviour? At RevGals this morning, Sally tells us that this description from Horsley's book is of a Roman celebration during the time of the first Roman Christians. These early Christians went from celebrating the Emperor as the savior to celebrating the Risen Lord as their Savior.

I read somewhere recently that there are "Christmas Christians" and "Easter Christians." I'm of a mind to believe that there are a dozen other delineations, but I know that I am a Christmas Christian. Really, an Advent Christian.

Sally says that, regardless of what your local WalMart looks like,

"Advent on the other hand calls us into the darkness, a time of quiet preparation, a time of waiting, and re-discovering the wonder of the knowledge that God is with us. Advent's call is to simplicity and not abundance, a time when we wait for glorious light of God to come again..."

I've never really thought of it in this way, as calling me into the darkness. But, oh isn't it?

So, the Friday Five this morning suggests that we list 5 Advent longings...

1. I long to find peace. In my own heart, I struggle with one thing. Well, probably more than one thing, but one thing that takes up a lot of time in my head, too. I suspect I don't need to look far for that peace, but I think I need to find the courage to let that peace take me over.

2. I long for my students to "get it." To really get what Christmas is about, and understand that what they do for someone else is so much more valuable than what they'll find under a tree.

3. This time of year, I suddenly realize how busy my life is, and I long for the quiet the 2 weeks off work brings. Not only for the chance to sleep in and spend time with my family, but also for the renewal that I feel every year.

4. I long for family, and wish that I was closer to my extended family. We aren't on speaking terms with some of our family for some very good reasons (I think no counselor or pastor would argue those reasons with us). But I do wish it could be different. Family is so important to me and it hurts that I'm not closer to some of them.

5. A better world around me. I know world peace is the "Miss America" answer. I fear that it will only get worse before it gets better. It's always hard for me to watch the news and see so much bad stuff right now. Bombings, murders, fights, the economic situation, large scale lay-offs in my area. And at this time of year it's even worse for me. I feel like Christians should endeavor to be at their best this time of year and we should be trying to flood the news and the world with hope. And we don't. Well, we do, but it's still over-shadowed by negative.

For more Advent longings, visit RevGalBlogPals today.

A few weeks ago, R suggested that I look into The Artist's Way. It's basically a 12-week creativity workshop/experience. I think (and I'm probably speaking out of turn here) that the point is to help you find/foster/facilitate your inner creative self. From what I gather, it looks like many find that their creativity becomes more productive--in the sense that they are producing things grounded in their creativity. It really did sound very up my alley, though it bugged me that R was the one suggesting it. (It bugs me that someone who has been conspicuously absent from my life for 2 years knows me well enough to suggest something that is so obviously right for me.) So, I ordered the book and the workbook and well...they're gathering dust at the moment.

I really do want to do this. I do. And I have to keep telling myself that. See, I'm hung up on the first thing you're supposed to start doing every day. Their called "morning pages." The very thought of them has rendered me unable to read past the introduction of the book.

Morning pages are meant to be a connection with your "artist brain." You get up in the morning and before you do anything else you write 3 pages of whatever, longhand. Totally stream of consciousness writing. Then you put them aside and don't read them for several weeks. I think the book says 6 or 8 weeks in you can start looking at the early ones. They may be full of nothing, or you may spark something that turns into a new piece for you.

It's the "before you do anything else" bit that's getting me. It's also the "longhand" thing that gets me. I have a specific pattern in the morning, a routine. I get up, start the coffee, walk the dog, drink the coffee and swallow some Tylenol Arthritis, because my hands and I don't get along very well in the morning. (My back and I don't either, but I'm not sure that would have an affect on my writing abilities.) Until the Tylenol kicks in, which is aided by the heat in the shower, I couldn't possibly grasp a pen long enough to write three pages.

Just writing that sounds like an excuse in my head. I've got to find a way to make the morning pages work for me. I've been toying with the idea of doing them at work in the mornings. I've been getting there earlier the last couple of weeks, and in my office in quiet for at least half an hour. There's nothing that has to be done during those thirty minutes that can't be done just efficiently a little later in the morning.

Okay, that's what I'll do. I'll make a stop today to buy a pretty binder, some bright paper, and a pretty pen. Because it's all about the tools, right? That's why Emily here is metallic spring green (Emily would, of course, be my laptop).