Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Things I Am Grateful For At The End Of 2014

that I made it through another year
that I am making this “being an adult” thing work
my guitar callouses
family
that I figured out what I don’t want to spend my life doing
those apple cranberry pies I made
the Early Church email list
that that church still feels like home
games of six-handed Rook (even when I’m not dealt any trump)
the new soles on my favorite pair of boots
my plants
my housemates
hockey games
the stories I told
new friends
old friends
friends who got engaged
late afternoon sunlight
I-83 N
Christmas trees
Christmas stockings
two full popcorn tins of ornaments
Jesus ~ the reason for Christmas
the hand-knit socks I got in the mail
the letter I got in the mail signed by Wendell Berry
the blue streaks I dyed in my hair
the hour of quiet at the Quaker meeting
watching those twins grow up via facebook
my experiment with OKCupid
my singleness
the trip to the West Coast
that I survived that plane trip
attending my first academic conference
the fireplace at my parents’ place
that I have so many homes
the chance to march with protesters
people who listened to me process that march
the fleece sheets I got for Christmas
the tentative roadtripping plans for next summer
that even after four years we are still friends
that even after a lifetime we are still friends
that I have a plan
that I tried new things
that I didn’t give up
all those second chances
80s music
laughter

Saturday, December 20, 2014

perfect is the enemy of good

i read an article not that long ago about how a lot of people don't like being alone with their thoughts:
A research team led by University of Virginia psychologist Timothy Wilson reports that, in a series of studies, “participants typically did not enjoy spending 6 to 15 minutes in a room by themselves with nothing to do but think.” 
What’s more, in the researchers’ most remarkable result, “many preferred to administer electronic shocks to themselves instead of being left alone with their thoughts.”
this is a phenomenon that i have a really hard time understanding. i generally feel like i don't have nearly enough time to be alone with my thoughts. (although, to be fair, if i spent as much time in my head as i *want* to, i might as well be a hermit, so it's probably just as well).

one of the things i've been kicking around in my head recently is the aphorism "perfection is the enemy of the good." i have ... a lot of perfectionist tendencies, to put it mildly. when something matters to me, i want it to be done well, or not at all. there are certain benefits that come from having a personality like this, for sure, and i'm not planning on actively trying to change that part of myself any time soon.

but of course it isn't all good. some of the issues that come from perfectionist tendencies include:

  • fear of failure
  • avoidance of new experiences
  • general frustration with oneself
  • difficulty understanding and accepting grace
  • not being satisfied with things that are good (because they aren't perfect)


my experience of learning to play guitar is like a microcosm of my perfectionist life, in a way. i want to be good, and when i'm not as good as i want to be, i don't want to play at all. it's a stupid and self-defeating attitude, which i am aware of (and which ends up making me more frustrated with myself).

playing chords + strumming with a steady rhythm + singing is SO HARD for me, which makes me feel dumb because i've taught myself to read tabs and how to play some semi-complicated fingerpicking songs and i took like 14 years of piano lessons, i know how to multi-task, okay??? nevertheless, it is difficult, and it makes me frustrated and irritated and self-conscious.

so i've been thinking about that aphorism. "Don't let perfect be an enemy of the good." don't let the pursuit of some idealized perfect performance detract from the joy of what you can do right now. i'm not perfect, not even close, but -- i can play, at least a little, right now.

which is, like i said, a portrait of my life in miniature.


these are three clips of me practicing the Vance Joy song "From Afar," the first two times with the song playing in the background as a reference/guide for me, and the last time me by myself.

it's strange and slightly terrifying to put a recording of myself singing out on the internet, but hey. i don't want to be afraid of failure, or new experiences. these aren't great recordings, but ... they're good enough.

which is how i want to approach living my life, despite my perfectionistic tendencies. just jumping in, because my best effort will have to be good enough.







Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Some Thoughts On Ferguson


I put this together for a friend of mine who received this message yesterday and asked for help drafting a response:

Hello old friend! I hope you are doing well and are getting ready for a great thanksgiving week. I wanted to reach out to you, because I truly respect your opinion and your mind. I believe that you have probably given more energy and thought to the events at Ferguson than the majority of our peers. I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind- would you please share more of your thoughts with me? I feel very conflicted-almost a she said/he said in my brain over whether the lack of an indictment was correct or not. Truly looking to understand more as I believe that racism and it's relationship to our justice system is a serious issue for our generation. I am also wondering what you think about Darren Wilson's discussion with detectives the day after the shooting. Take your time! Thank you in advance!


––


The first thing I would say in response to these questions is that when we look at the events that have happened in Ferguson, ranging from the shooting of Michael Brown on August 9; through the weeks of protests during the investigation into his death; the formation of a grand jury over whether his shooter, Officer Darren Wilson, deserved to stand trial for his actions on August 9; the lack of an indictment against Darren Wilson; and finally the protests that continue in Ferguson and across the US today, it is important to understand that these events do not exist in a vacuum.


The Context

It is difficult for people born since the 1960s to fully appreciate the legacy of racial tension in this country. We live in an America that ostensibly provides “freedom and justice for all,” and our current president is of African-American descent. A lot of work has been done in dismantling the systemic racism that allowed white Americans to participate in and support slavery for 150 years, and segregation for 100 years after that.

It becomes easy, then, for white Americans to say: 1.) race is no longer an issue in this country, and 2.) even if it was an issue, it’s not my issue, because I never owned slaves and I am not a racist and I don’t mind if black people drink from my water fountain.

The problem with these statements is that while it is definitely true that progress has been made, America does not provide the same sort of freedom and justice to people of all races, and it is everyone’s problem. It is, perhaps, most especially the problem of the people who benefit the most from our current systems: namely, white Americans.


The Stats

Let's talk numbers.

According to the most recent US census, African Americans make up 13.2% of the total US population. Keep that in mind as we go through these numbers:

  • 28% of people living in poverty in this country are African American.
  • the average household net worth of white Americans is $110,000. For African Americans, that number is $5,000.
  • African Americans are twice as likely as white Americans to be unemployed. This statistic is not dependent on level of education.
  • African Americans make up 50% of the homicide victims in this country.
  • (however, 77% of the people on death row who have been executed since 1977 have been killed for murdering a white victim)
  • (furthermore, if convicted of murder, African Americans are 38% more likely to be given the death sentence than members of other racial groups)
  • 1 in every 15 African American men is incarcerated (or 1 in 11 adults). For white Americans, that number is 1 in 106 men (or 1 in 45 adults).
  • African Americans account for nearly 40% of the prison population in the US.
  • 1 in 6 black students is expelled from school at some point in their life, in comparison to 1 in 20 white students.
  • black and Hispanic students trail their white peers by an average of more than 20 test-score points on the NAEP math and reading assessments at 4th and 8th grades, a difference of about two grade levels.

Again: it is most certainly true that progress has been made since the days when it was illegal for a black American to drink from the same water fountain as a white student. That doesn’t mean, however, that race doesn’t still affect people’s lives in negative ways.

I would argue that race is a powerful force that dramatically shapes the opportunities and even rights that people are given in this country.


Okay, so maybe I believe you that we don’t live in a post-racial society. It’s still not MY problem. I am not a racist.

I’m really glad you would never join the KKK! That is definitely a mark in your favor. But let’s deconstruct those statements a little bit.

First, we should probably talk about what racism actually means. The simplest definition I’ve come across is as follows:

Racism consists of both prejudice and discrimination based in social perceptions of biological differences between peoples. It often takes the form of social actions, practices or beliefs, or political systems that consider different races to be ranked as inherently superior or inferior to each other, based on presumed shared inheritable traits, abilities, or qualities.

Let’s break this down a little more.

When people say they aren’t racist, they often mean that they don’t feel prejudiced against a group of people based on their skin color. They might have Black or Hispanic or Asian or Native American friends. They might think it’s really disgusting that only 60 years ago a bunch of US states still segregated their public schools. They might have voted for Barack Obama.

All of those things are great! And none of those things could have happened just a few generations ago in America, so, like I said: progress!

But another part of racism is “discrimination based in social perceptions” that can “take the form of social actions, practices or beliefs.” There’s something really important to understand here. Racism can be part of social systems.


I don’t understand what that means.

Okay, let’s think of some examples.

Here’s one: professors are more likely to respond to emails that come from students with stereotypically white names. Think John or Ben or Eric vs. Malik or Trevon or DeShawn.


How about media portrayal of African Americans? Outside of the underrepresentation of black stories in mainstream media in general, studies have found “Negative associations exaggerated — particularly criminality, unemployment, and poverty” and “Positive associations limited — particularly, sports, physical achievement in general, virility, and musicality.” Black Americans are not just criminals, and they are more than jazz and the NBA, yet it is difficult to find varied, nuanced Black characters in movies, television shows, novels, video games, and other media outlets.

There have been studies done on unconscious bias: take a look at these articles if you have the time. If you don’t have time, let me pull out a quick quote:

“According to Williams, the research shows that when people hold a negative stereotype about a group and meet someone from that group, they often treat that person differently and honestly don't even realize it.  Williams noted that most Americans would object to being labeled as ‘racist’ or even as ‘discriminating,’ but he added, ‘Welcome to the human race. It is a normal process about how all of us process information.’ … [U]nless we intentionally go out of our way to learn about and become aware of our own bias, it is likely to spill out at the most inopportune time, like during a stressful traffic stop (in the case of a law enforcement officer) or during a medical emergency in the ER.”

Like the person quoted in that article, I don’t think that most of the people in these studies would say they are racist. But that doesn’t mean that racism has ceased to exist. In some cases it is a personal, subconscious sort of discrimination that plays out in subtle ways. In other cases it is woven into systems, like how American media corporations do not generally have accurate, representative portrayals of minorities in their hit shows and movies.

Maybe the most important thing to understand here is that all of these things are really, REALLY easy to miss if you are not in the minority group.

If YOUR emails always get answered, and YOUR resume doesn’t get passed over, and YOU get to walk through life without people unconsciously battling fear when they see you, it’s a lot easier to believe that racism is a thing of the past. After all, racial discrimination is illegal, and people of color have held many of the highest positions in our country’s government and military, as well as cultural seats of power. Furthermore, studies have shown that Americans have very segregated social networks, and so without actively working to interact with and befriend people of different races, you might never learn about your own blind spots.


But What Does This Have To Do With Ferguson?

Good question.

Here’s where I’ll try to tie this all together. You know how I said that white people have mostly white social networks? And also that it’s easy for white people to overlook the way the systems in place are biased towards them?

Those two facts mean that white people have a very, very different understanding of and relationship to police and the criminal justice system than black people do in America.

A survey done in August showed stark racial divisions in reactions to the death of Michael Brown, but lets go back even earlier.

  • Let’s start with one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve read in recent memory, which is that apparently many, many black families in this country have talks with their children, especially their sons, about how they need to be extremely careful in their interactions with police officers or they might get killed, and warning them from a young age about racial profiling.
  • Next we should talk about this case from New Jersey where a black man was facing prison time on charges of eluding arrest and assault before a video surfaced that directly refuted claims that multiple cops made. You should note here that an audio recording had a police officer shouting things like “stop trying to take my gun” and “stop resisting arrest,” while the video showed Marcus Jeter sitting in his car with his hands in the air, not reaching for a gun or resisting arrest at all. (An article I read around the time this first hit the news noted that unconscious racial bias may have made the police officer legitimately afraid for his life, but that does not mean that Marcus Jeter deserved jail time or the rough arrest that he recieved).
  • There are a disproportionately high number of African Americans shot by police each year, and studies have shown that police are quicker to shoot African Americans than people of other races, although some of the same studies have shown that members of the police display a lesser racial bias than members of the community who undergo the same testing; this is attributed to high-quality role-play that enhances decision-making under stress.
  • A black person is fatally shot by police or vigilantes every 28 hours in this country.

Or let’s take another, more famous example: the Trayvon Martin case. When George Zimmerman, a very light-skinned Latino man with a name that can pass for white, was able walk away from killing an unarmed black teenager, people’s opinions about what happened often were divided on racial lines. White Americans often felt that the system had worked as it should: evidence was presented, the jury deliberated, and the outcome was based on logic and the rule of law. Black Americans, on the other hand, were outraged: a black teenager was dead, and no one was going to pay for it, and it seemed like no one cared at all.

When this case is contrasted with other high-profile decisions, such as the 2010 Marissa Alexander case – have you heard of that one, by the way? A black woman fired a warning shot at her abusive husband, not harming anyone, and plead self-defense under the same “Stand Your Ground” law that George Zimmerman successfully used to defend himself against a murder charge. She was found guilty of gun-related aggravated assault and sentenced to 20 years in prison despite not harming anyone (since then she received a retrial and her sentence was reduced to three years) –- so yes, when Trayvon Martin’s case is contrasted with cases like Marissa Alexander’s, many Black Americans, as well as some other Americans of different races, feel like the criminal justice system is stacked against Black Americans.


So let’s talk about Ferguson. Here’s some relevant facts:

  • Ferguson is 67% black, but the demographics of the Ferguson police do not represent the community. There are 3 black officers on the police force, giving a 5% black representation rate.
  • Black residents accounted for 86% of the vehicle stops made by Ferguson police over the past year and nearly 93% of the arrests made from those stops


Okay, that’s interesting, but I want to talk about what actually happened with Michael Brown.

Alright, let’s move on.

I’ve given you all this background information in hopes that it will make clear why one of the rallying cries of the national protests that have erupted recently is “Black Lives Matter.” Hopefully you can see now that because of systemic racism, the sort of prejudice and discrimination that is still woven into many facets of life in America, many Black Americans feel like they are constantly being told their lives don’t matter. And because of the statistics I told you earlier – you know, the one about a black person being shot by vigilantes or police every 28 hours in America, or the one about 1 in 11 Black adults being incarcerated – there was simmering discontent long before Michael Brown was shot and killed on August 9. (In fact, I would like to point out here that in the month that Michael Brown was killed, Eric Garner, John Crawford, Ezell Ford, and Dante Parker were all killed by police - 4 other unarmed black men killed in various cities across the US. The same week the Ferguson grand jury released their ruling on Darren Wilson, a 12-year-old black boy was killed because he was playing with a pellet gun).

So what happened with Michael Brown?

You can find various timelines and compilations of evidence with a simple google search; note that the grand jury testimony has been made public.

Some things consider when thinking about Michael Brown’s death and its aftermath:



Okay, but I still don’t understand why people are angry about the grand jury decision. The grand jury heard a lot of evidence and decided Wilson was innocent, right? So why the riots?

Alright, hold up. Let’s be clear, here: the purpose of the grand jury was not to find Wilson innocent or guilty. The purpose of the grand jury was to decide if there was a reason to go to trial.

Do you understand, now, why many Black Americans are upset, and where the “Black Lives Matter” chant is coming from? When the grand jury decided not to indict him – not to bring Darren Wilson to trial, where evidence regarding the shooting, Darren Wilson’s actions, and Michael Brown’s death would be presented in front of a judge and jury – they were saying that the death of an unarmed black teenager, who some eyewitness accounts claimed had his hands up, did not merit a trial.

Furthermore, this is also part of the tension.

But let’s rehash what we’ve talked about so far. It’s not just the grand jury decision that has people upset. It’s that there were already underlying tensions between the majority black population in Ferguson with the majority white police force; it’s that the police force acted, in the weeks after the shooting, with less transparency than may have been advisable; it’s that nonviolent protesters and journalists were arrested, in violation of their First Amendment rights; it’s that unarmed black men get shot by police officers way, way too often in this country.

Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr, said in 1968, scant weeks before his assassination, “It is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard.”

This does not condone violent riots, but it goes a long way towards understanding why they happen.


So ... Do You Think There Should Have Been an Indictment?

Police officers “rarely face legal consequences for allegations of misconduct.” Even getting an indictment is rare, let alone having police face legal punishment, and so I have to admit I was hoping that there would be an indictment – I would like to see a challenge to that status quo. I think it is important to challenge the idea that members of the police are exempt from criticism; when someone puts on a uniform and picks up a lethal weapon with the understanding that they will be protecting and serving the public with that lethal weapon, I think it is appropriate to hold them to the highest standards and ensure that there is transparency and accountability in every aspect of their relationship with the public. Taking Darren Wilson to trial would have communicated that the police department was committed to accountability for every life that is taken.
But the bigger issue, here, is that, as Joel Reinstein wrote,
On the morning of George Zimmerman’s acquittal of Trayvon Martin’s murder earlier this year, with the mainstream media raising the specter of riots, blogger Jay Smooth made a prediction: ‘The fundamental danger of an acquittal is not more riots, it is more George Zimmermans.’
There were no riots. There have been more George Zimmermans.”
To steal a phrase from the protest movement, the more important thing is to indict the system. More important than indicting Darren Wilson is raising a generation of Americans who will question the systems we have in place, take them to trial and push back against the implicit and explicit racism that is left after all these decades of progress.

Once we understand that racism is NOT over, it becomes our collective responsibility to deal with it.
That’s happening, I think.
Let’s call that the silver lining of hope.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

11/25/14


There are leaf-stains on the sidewalk this morning
from the rain last night, little brown memories, little
ghosts, little impressionistic paintings on the concrete,
the leaves themselves all gone. The trees are bare.
In a day, or two, or five, nothing will be left.

This is a metaphor, of course. It’s heavy-handed, true,
but Ferguson is refusing to be turned into a poem
and so the options are limited. The leaves are
the bodies, obviously. Trayvon, Michael. Tamir, Eric, John.

Michael Brown’s body lay in the street for hours
and whatever mark he made on the asphalt is long
since gone, his family left with memories, ghosts,

impressionistic paintings of an eighteen-year-long life.
The life itself all gone. Can you see the poem

begin to unfold? It is autumn. The leaves are falling.

Can you see, also, the limits of metaphor? Let me
speak plainly: these deaths were not inevitable.

They were not leaves scheduled to fall before winter.
The stains these bodies made on the sidewalks
and roads and autopsy tables were not art.

The sky is grey, heavy with snow. Michael Brown
was shot dead in August. Walking down the street.
Eighteen years old. Michael Brown is refusing
to be turned into a poem. There is nothing left to say.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

13 years later

Thirteen Years Later

Theology pushes us towards silence,
Peter said,
or wrote, rather, at some point during his years in
Baghdad. This would have been some time before
the year he played a recording of the adhan in class,
the year he stood -- or sat, more likely -- at the front
of the classroom and said he thought Arabic would be
a beautiful language to do theology in. I didn’t know
enough, then, to wonder at the way language fails.
I didn’t think about how maybe he was out of
words. I was eighteen years old, that first year
he was my teacher.
Ahlan wa-sahlan,
Louis coached us, bouncing up on the balls of his feet,
smiling at a semester’s worth of garbled consonants
tripping up against the dreaded ayin. It should be
the most beautiful letter, he told us, made us repeat words
after him again and again until the sounds had
lost all meaning.

It was two years after I came home,
two years after I walked the streets of Damascus
every day for a month, two years after I climbed the stairs
to the monastery an hour outside the city limits
before I learned that Father Paolo had disappeared.
Presumed dead, the report stated quietly, executed
by Syrian rebels.

You are writing the same poem
again and again, my poetry professor told me that spring.

I was ten years old when the towers fell. The neighbor kids
all gathered in my backyard, like usual, except this time we knelt
in a circle and James led us in the Lord’s prayer.


… as we forgive those who trespass against us …


No, I don’t understand any of it: twenty-three and still a child.
Who were the men who hijacked the planes, I wonder.
What were they like, as children?
There is no room here for naïveté.
I have seen the photographs of people jumping from the windows,
twenty floors above the ground, and yet --
Dialogue is an exercise in beauty,
Father Paolo said. His whole face changed when he smiled;
his eyes disappeared into slits before the force of his joy, crow’s feet
turning into deep creases. I want to believe he might be right;


even then,
even now.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

in memoriam: robin williams (1951-2014)

it's a strange thing to feel sad about the death of a person you never met, especially so when said stranger is a celebrity. it is, perhaps, even weirder to feel like you have any sort of ability - any sort of right - to bear witness to the life of a person you don't know. and yet here i am, gutted in a totally unexpected way by robin williams' death, and ready to try to set down words that capture something of my sadness and his life.

-

mostly, i suppose, the ache in my heart has something to do with watching Dead Poets Society nine years ago in a classroom across from a cornfield in lampeter. it all happened right smack dab in the middle of ordinariness, is what i'm trying to get at; i was distracted, giddy with the thought that my english teacher was ... creatively bending the rules w/r/t what we could watch in school. how was i to know that i was about to be given a huge, huge gift?

the tiny seed of a thought (that i could do poetry too) - that's what i'm talking about. which, okay, had to germinate for years and years (six years, to be precise), but: it was there waiting for the right time, nonetheless.

this is what i'm talking about; i watched this clip twice yesterday night and there were tears in my eyes by the end.

-

details of robin williams' death keep trickling out into the public, and i have been uncomfortably reminded of david foster wallace's widow talking about how painful the months after his death were. "people read his autopsy report like it was great literature," she said, and the line lodged in my throat, a distasteful reminder of the way we are often voyeurs of suffering.

it is hard to understand why people like dfw and robin williams and aaron swartz and marina tsvetaeva and mark rothko and virginia woolf commit suicide. looking at their life from the outside, it is so easy to see the marvelous, larger-than-life gifts they had, and terribly easy to miss the suffering that chased after them like wolves.

mental illness. it's a thing, y'all. it doesn't discriminate, either, as someone so eloquently put in an article today. at the risk of repeating myself (i put this on facebook earlier):

"these aren't my words, but I read them recently on the internet & thought they deserved a share:

robin williams died today.

here is a list of things that robin williams was:

-funny
-sharp 
-kind 
-clever 
-and sad.

that’s important, the “and sad,” because sometimes sadness can feel like the only thing we are. it can feel all-encompassing. it can feel like the only thing anyone could possibly see, when they look at you: sad. that person is so, so, sad.

but there is always an “and.” we are never just sad. we are never only. we are always and.
we have all known people who were sad, who are sad; some of us are ourselves sad. being sad does not remove the other parts of us, though it can make them harder for us to see. when you are sad, you don’t necessarily feel like you are also funny, and sharp, and clever, and kind.

but you still are. you don’t have to feel like something to be it.

those things are written on your bones, they are woven into the fabric of your skin. sadness can feel so big, so big and overwhelming and complete, even when it is not a directed sadness. maybe especially when it is not a directed sadness, when it’s a depression that has no direct cause and nothing we can name.

sometimes the sadness is too big. people try to cut it out, or starve it out, or drink it down, or drug it silent. if this is you: i’m sorry. if this is you: you are not alone. if this is you: remember that the solution is never to give up, because you do not live in a vacuum. there are people waiting for you. there are films and songs and books and not-sadness waiting for you. i know that you don’t feel like waiting, but wait anyway.

if you need help, ask for it. here’s a link to crisis centers across the globe. (http://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres) if you live in the U.S., this is the national suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255.

robin williams died today, but the genie didn’t, and mrs. doubtfire didn’t, and peter pan didn’t. sean maquire didn’t, and professor philip brainard didn’t, and alan parrish didn’t. batty koda didn’t. john keating didn’t. you didn’t.

don’t."

(source: http://ofgeography.tumblr.com/post/94482062006/robin-williams-died-today-here-is-a-list-of).
-

when i read about robin williams' suicide i thought of this tribute to dfw:
I am sad now because his words, his mind, were such a companion to me and to others, yet clearly a terrible master. I wish that I could have returned the favors he has done for me in some small way.
i wish robin williams could have understood the worlds he opened up inside of countless other human beings. i would have liked to tell him that i thought about the Dead Poets Society during the year in college that i started to think of myself as a writer. i would have liked him to know that.

-

when i read about robin williams' suicide i also thought of his role as sean mcguire in Good Will Hunting. 


mental illness, y'all. 

it's a thing.

-

so - yeah. i don't know robin williams. i don't want to be a voyeur to his family's suffering. i can't really say anything about his life, or make meaning from his death. 

but i guess i can say that there are a lot of suicides that are a surprise to the people left behind, and maybe the best way to remember robin williams (and these other artists i love who also took their own life) is to say that i would always, always want to know. mental illness is not too scary for it to be spoken of, okay? i would want to know.

my blog stats say i have readers from 8 countries. i've had over 10,000 hits. who knows how many individuals have virtually visited me? 

to all you nebulous people out there, listen: if you're thinking about suicide, there are places you can turn to for help. you can leave me a comment, if you have to. we'll find someone to help you out.

-

robin williams: 1951-2014. 

your life was a gift to many. 

thanks.


Thursday, July 10, 2014

instructions on beating a summer headcold: 1. drink tea 2. lay very still after work 3. blog

i've been listening to anais mitchell a lot, recently - often the child ballads, but i have her album The Brightness in my car and i've been doing a bit more driving than usual, recently.

there's a few lines in the last song on that album that always punch me in the gut a little when i hear it:
you can hold her hand
you can kiss her face
go slow if you can
cause the world is a very sad place
and when she leaves she'll leave no trace
and the world will still be there
 -

i've fallen victim to one of those horrid summer headcolds, so i know i'm already prone to be in a down mood anyway. but: the world feels a very sad place, right now.

-

people on my facebook keep talking about a girl from L-S who was killed in a car wreck this week. she was just a month or so out from graduating high school, all ready to go away to college. and now she's not, and that's that.

-

sometimes i see headlines about syria, or israel, or the west bank, or the gaza strip, and i just can't open the articles. i can't make myself read them. other times i read them and just feel very heavy and tired.

i happened to see pictures, this week, of the crowds teetering on the edge of riots in east jerusalem; streets i could have walked on, maybe, the jerusalem stone familiar in the photos; streets now full of anger and bitterness and the stench of hate. israeli teens: murdered. palestinian teens: murdered in retaliation. stones thrown.

i happened to see pictures, this week, of parents running with small children in their arms down the streets of gaza city, smoke billowing up in the background.

the spirit groans.

-

a couple from my university is traveling - soon, very soon, in their orientation even now - to iraq, for three years. it is hard not to be afraid.

-

and yet the world is still there, somehow, despite it all.

like: holding two very small humans this past weekend; twin baby girls born into a home fairly shimmering with love for the created earth.

like: getting letters in the mail from old friends.

like: a weekend with my family, camped out in the backyard.

and like this:

To love is to feel your death
given to you like a sentence,
to meet the judge's eyes
as if there were a judge,
as if he had eyes,
and love.

and like this:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

and like this:

 Surely I will be with you always, even to the end of the age.

-

the world is a very sad place. but headed, i hope - i believe (help me with my unbelief) - for redemption. 

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

what I think about during my day

today at work i had the skeleton of a story visit me. magical realism + the ghost of anna akhmatova + teenage sisters who think they know everything.


... if only i had, like, four more hours in my day ... i would totally write it. 

Saturday, June 28, 2014

poem for a weekend evening


You Reading This, Be Ready
by William Stafford

Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. The interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life—

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?