Blankets
Blankets thrown on a couch
lumps stir beneath
a foot here, an elbow there
giggles and shouts
"You're tickling me!"
"Get your foot out of my mouth!"
A bright red face emerges out into the open,
To gasp for air before diving back beneath the layers.
Knees and foreheads bump together.
Love is weird
Puddle of Lemon Juice
Sometimes life just keeps chunking lemons at you but you don't have any sugar or even a pitcher. You do the best you can, but your best just leaves you standing in a puddle of lemon juice. Then at the end of the day you just shrug it off and go grab a burger and a coke. That's kind of what today was like.
Scientific Proof that Prayer and Meditation is Good for You
I was listening to NPR today and this little nugget of a story came up. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104310443 Basically they scanned very religious people's brains while they were praying. Apparently those who set aside time for prayer on a consistent basis become more compassionate and even have better immune systems. interesting quotes from the article
- "You can sculpt your brain just as you'd sculpt your muscles if you went to the gym," he says. "Our brains are continuously being sculpted, whether you like it or not, wittingly or unwittingly."
- "It's called neuroplasticity. For years Davidson, who is at the University of Wisconsin, has scanned the brains of Buddhist monks who have logged years of meditation. When it comes to things like attention and compassion, their brains are as finely tuned as a late-model Porsche."
- "Just two months' practice among rank amateurs led to a systematic change in both the brain as well as the immune system in more positive directions,"
Little Girl
I see you little girl,
Shrinking away from bright smiles and warm embraces.
The glint of suspicion in your eyes.
A pad of paper and pencil clutched to your breast.
A portal to imaginary friends,
the only kind to be trusted.
I know why you are afraid.
The sins of the father unjustly forced upon the daughter.
Will this cycle ever end?
Memories
I remember there was this one girl named Sarah in first grade who liked me. She would chase me on the playground and try and give me kisses. On the playground we had these huge tires that were half burried in the ground. You could hide inside them. One time Sarah ended up cornering me in the tire and planted a kiss on my cheek. I wasn't really interested in her though. Instead I thought another girl was really cute. I don't even remember her name. I think it started with a K. She ended up moving away.
I got into the only thing I would ever consider a fight because of Sarah. Some guys were being really mean to her and it made me mad. This was during P.E. when we were running laps. Everyone had paper cards that they got hole punched for every lap completed. I walked over to one of the boys and initiated some shoving. Then he tore my card up. I tore his card up too. We couldn't very well run laps without getting our cards punched, so we proceeded to go tell on each other to the coach. We both got punished (time out during recess I think).
I used to be a pretty loud and obnoxious kid. I wasn't afraid to speak my mind. I thought I was the smartest kid there was. I always tried to answer the questions the teachers in class asked.
Then something happened around middle school. I became more reserved. I became almost afraid to speak up in class. My grades started slipping. I began to lose confidence in myself. My dad mentions this every now and then. He talks about how much I changed in that time period. I think he's saddened by how I changed. You can tell in the tone of his voice when he mentions it. He used to say that he never knows what I'm thinking or feeling.
He says that he's noticed how much I've changed since I've been to college too. He seems to think that I've changed for the better somehow. I don't get it really. I mean sure I've grown in some ways, but I don't feel like I've taken a new direction or anything. Sometimes I wish I could have glimpses of how other people see me. I feel like there's a disconnect between how I see myself and how other people see me. Maybe that's part of why we need relationships, so we can get a clearer picture of who we are.
Rebecca
I just finished watching Alfred Hitchcock's film, Rebecca. It was a great film. I was somewhat skeptical at the beginning as it seemed to be your typical romance movie with all the cheese that entails. However the movie soon moved past this toward more meaty dramatic material that seemed to me like watching a trainwreck and a 40 car pile up all thrown together into a big pot with just a dash of intrigue thrown in for flavor.
In typical Hitchcockian fashion, curve balls are constantly being thrown at the viewer. Just as soon as I thought I knew what was going on, another factor came into play. It was a positively satisfying experience.
There's some great thought provoking stuff in there about the fallacy of comparing ourselves to others and how we're decieved by social displays of happiness in others. Go check it out.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3TgoekMV5Y]
Water
One of my favorite directors, Andrei Tarkovsky, understood the power of water. It constantly changes it's form, never the same. Film can capture it's essence in a way that no other medium can.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXyKlqS07tc]
I love the rain. There's something innately divine about it. Almost all religions give water some sort of significance. It's the force that gives us life. We are dust and water, but more so water.
Jesus describes himself as the living water. Whenever I think of Christ in terms of water, I think of a raging river or a downpour of rain amidst a thunderstorm. It's forceful, carrying you along with it. I was baptized at the age of 16, almost 17. In my denomination it's generally considered that 12 is about the proper age to commit oneself to Christ. I put it off. I'm not sure why.
My baptism was largely uneventful. It was on a Wednesday night. A handful of people were sitting out in the pews. My dad baptized me in the baptistery. The water in the baptistery is stagnant and unmoving. That's not to say it isn't clean, but that it's lacking in force. It's a just a big bathtub filled with the blood of Jesus. I went in and came out. Several people came up and hugged me while I was still wet. I didn't feel a whole lot different, just a little more grown up maybe. If anything I became a worse sinner right after my baptism. A couple of months down the road and I came across ideas I didn't know how to explain away. I got into situations I didn't know how to handle. All along my pride was pulled behind me, obscured from view.We're all constantly being washed clean again. We need it.
Whenever it's raining I feel like God is close by. Sometimes I like to go out and let the rain pour over me. It soaks into my clothes and into my skin. It drips from my hair onto my nose and cheeks. The sound of thunder seems to be the voice of God. Somehow rain can assuage all the doubts that seem to keep my faith in a constant state of tension. I stop thinking and I just stay there in the moment. Nothing but me and water.