tuesday

Today was a hard day.

Mom woke up feeling great. She had energy and was moving easily around the house this morning. It was a pretty day outside, even if it was another ozone alert, and I don’t really know when things changed.

Mom woke me up a little after 2 because we had a meeting at my brother’s life college. He’s been doing great recently, and the faculty decided he could handle living on his own. He’s been chosen to be the first resident in a new program, and it starts the beginning of November. He called yesterday, audibly bouncing off the walls about the meeting, moving, getting his own place.

Mom’s so proud.

The meeting was long, and the main speaker talked. A lot. Every point on the agenda was covered. In detail. An hour and a half later, we still had a couple of points left to discuss. That’s when mom had a seizure. She’d asked for water before we started, then caught the eye of one of the faculty members to ask for something to eat.

They knew she’d “not been feeling well,” so were very solicitous. When she asked for food, someone slipped off, quickly returning with some crackers, lunch meat, and an orange.

It wasn’t a bad seizures, as far as seizures go. Her blood sugar dropped, her mood swung. She didn’t lose consciousness, no serious damage was done to her or anything else.

But it took the rest of the day for her to recover. The meeting wrapped quickly, with questions of about what else could be done to help her.

She was tired and sensitive, drained and frustrated.

We were supposed to get our toes done, and then go to this funky diner for dinner. But with her pale and shaky, all I could think was getting her food. The drive seemed to take forever, and I felt clumsy and incapable when I missed a turn.

She picked at her food, looking small, like she was fading every time I looked at her too long. We talked about nothing, incomplete thought just lingering at the table.

Afterwards we went out for ice cream from another local place. She consumed a hot fudge sundae like she’d never been fed before, and it helped.

Except this vile idea that she is entering a second childhood haunts me whenever I see her not as healthy and energetic as I wish she were. It clings, making me wish I had the time to cry.

But tomorrow could be a harder day… I can cry after it's over.

random thoughts at starbucks

Sometime in the late mid-century, it became artistically acceptable to pursue something other than beauty. Art broadened its horizons, to speak to tragic, grotesque, profound, simple. A simple change of pursuit, but the result affects art, literature and even perspective now. So if art no longer speaks beauty, but strives for truth, why do we still have philosophy or religion?

I would present that art is the lie that tells the truth, and religion is the truth that shows our lies. 

Beauty is easy - easy to identify, easy to look at, easy to lose one's self in. Truth, however, can be quite harsh and difficult to accept. Truth destroys pretty illusions, and shows the hard things we balk at - like courage and honesty - to best advantage. And sad to say, it is far easier to accept an easy, pretty lie than even share space with a rough truth.

Why does this distinction matter?

In a word: character.

That je ne sais quoi some call maturity, and others, a certain moral compass, finds itself founded in character. Once described in this process: difficulties produce endurance, endurance producing character, character producing hope, and hope does not disappoint - it becomes clear that character (that is, being able to endure difficulty, or difficult truth) connects something true (difficulty) to something beautiful (hope that does not disappoint). When searching for truth in a lie, one loses the appreciation of any beauty, because it becomes unseen; or worse, expected to disappoint. Conversely, religion, promoting faith (which is, at its base, completely illogical and unreasonable) shows truth unedited, or said a different way, inartistically. This places the experiencer in the difficult, true position of choice.

Depending on what is true, but not beautiful, or trusting what is carefully presented to be truth-filled creates a tension that requires a choice, and requires character to settle.

What then, as a society and as a people, will we choose? Convenient beauty or challenging truth?  How will the character of those choosers be decided?

coolness & ice-skating snakes

A friend of mine was rummaging through the blogosphere, trying to figure out what made for a decent blog. He found polls and lots of references to common happenings; things that matter today to everyone, and things that can be easily read and understood.

According to those guidelines, I’m not sure that my blog’ll ever be read.

But… since it probably will not be, I’ll say woo, and share things I don’t think I would if it were read all the time by millions. So, here’s a list of cool things going on, and some confessions I’ve felt I need to share.

Cool things: My mom’s doing better. She can walk around the house more than she was before, and there’s a lightness in her spirit I’ve not seen for months. Most of that happened this week because…

She heard from a local church where she had applied to work that they were looking for someone to Sign Lay Pastor classes. It seems that there are two young men feeling a calling to be pastors, and they’re wrestling. Not just with that weighty glory, but also with just everyday life stuff. One of the guys had some serious parental-related shake-ups recently, and now that his world’s shifted, well, everything seems harder than it was before.

He is also a young man my mom holds in great affection, and one she’s had the honor to Sign for before. To say she’s stoked would be an understatement, and to say I am thankful that she has something that’s lit a fire under her would be, too.

So, woo. Very, very cool.

Also cool: My bar-none favorite modern female author read a review I did of one her books, and dug it. Her assistant got in contact with me, and passed along an Advanced Readers Copy (ARC) of her next book. I can’t really go into more detail now, but… trust me. It’s a blessing wrapped inside a hug wrapped in an amazing book. There will definitely be more details when I can talk about it more. 

Coolness continuing… my brother is doing awesome. Not only is he doing awesome, his awesomeness got noticed. His life skills college will be starting up a new program in the not-so-distant future, with new apartments for the residents who are ready for that step. They want my brother to be one of the first residents to make that leap. Talk about coolness: We’ve gone from not being able to leave my brother alone for more than an hour to him being able to shop for himself and take care of himself on an ongoing basis. That’s a heck of a sign of growth.

Woo. And woo. And yay. Yeah. Just sayin’.

And now, for the confessions, which are supposed to be good for the soul.

The same friend purveying the blogosphere read mine, and had some questions. Seems there are some areas where I am not clear, and I know it. I’ll even admit that the spots where I am weak and my ego threatened are where I tend to shy and defer, so I come off as quiet and confusing.

So... here’s some light.

I’m not sure how to really define what I am addicted to. I’d love to say it was *just* roleplay (RP) or Facebook or the Internet. But it’s all of that and none of it. The backstory there is that I was stupid in college. I got into chatting back when it was colored text on a colored screen with coding for actions. I lost a free ride to college, and didn’t even blink.

Then I got into computers as work, and it covered my really unhealthy thing with social acceptability. From there, I learned about World of Worldcraft (WoW) and Second Life (SL) and… time became very, very relative. I started RPing for hours, lost in the perfection of graphics. There was no sickness, no change, and the stories were as varied as the number of people I met.

Plus, I was beautiful.

I was seen as perfect and witty and wanted.

Back then, I’d’ve sold my soul for a guy to see me that way, and say that in real life. Since there were no real buyers, that soul transaction happened virtually.

All of that drove me into a really, really bad headspace. And what’s really messed up is I didn’t realize how bad it was until, well, bluntly, the restraining order had to be ordered.

I met someone online that, well, I thought was a dream. He was articulate and charming, and I fell like a ton of bricks off a tall building. When it was good, it was magic. When it wasn’t, it was impressive.

I tried to break it off a few different times. The first, I said I didn’t see a future, so he proposed. It was such a grand, romantic gesture, and I loved him, I accepted. It was great – for about a week. Then the fights started again. We’d argue until I couldn’t remember why I disagreed in the first place. Then it’d be Ok for a day or so.

One day in April, I was trying to think of what to give up for Lent. He jokingly said him, and it resonated. Thinking absence makes the heart grow fonder, I asked that he not call or text or IM for 40 days. He made it 3 hours.

It still hurts to think that the person I’d’ve sworn to love, honor, and cherish forever said he would come down to take me back with him. I was so befuddled; I thought not having a choice in the matter was romantic and fantastic (rather than illegal and kidnapping).

So, yeah, that’s why I’m single now.

I still RP a bit, but there’s little joy there anymore. I’m not going to say every face has become my ex’s, but I realized recently I cower when men at church move to hug me. I’d apologize for it, if it didn’t require words and thinking, which I can’t do when I see someone bigger moving towards me.

Am I coward? Possibly. But I’m learning that trust and surrender comes as easy for me as a snake learning to ice-skate.

summer snow

you stood on the path



the night soft and lazy


around you and me


and your hair of burnished gold


you said it was good to see me


and I melted like snow