tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79992692024-03-07T02:12:14.513-06:00today's blue plate specialpull up a chair...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger390125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-69099139156339014392017-01-04T13:32:00.002-06:002017-01-04T13:51:29.965-06:00The Great Dumpster Fire of 2016: A Playlist for the AgesI haven't written anything here in a while. There's no real rhyme or reason why--I'm not one of those people who believe blogging is dead. I'm just one of those people who realizes not everyone follows my newsfeed with baited breath, wondering what it is I've done this time. I get it--we're all in the midst of our lives, and sometimes writing out a story sucks all the flavor right out of it. And if I'm honest, I'd developed a bad habit of starting to draft entries in my head while things were actually happening, and just sort of observing them and self-editing in real time, instead of just jumping in with both feet and not thinking of whatever I was doing or whatever was being done as grist for the mill. Plus, there's been kind of a lot going on. But you already know that.<br />
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I'm not one of those folks who will stand here and say that 2016 was The Worst Year Ever, but I can say it was rough for pretty much everyone I know, and had some patches in it that damn near tore the hide off my bleeding heart. But this was also the year that my beloved and I moved to The Farm, which we'd been dreaming and planning since almost the very beginning of our relationship, and that has been a balm to my soul and a daily joy--even the 5:30am wake-up time has a tiny bit of happy in it. A tiny bit.<br />
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Just for fits and giggles, I thought I'd share my latest playlist with you. Remember when I used to do that, kind of on the reg? For your consideration, please find an aural representation of the year that was 2016. These are the songs I sewed into my heart this year; the words and tunes and mystery that helped me stay afloat and held me safe and warm, along with a short note offering some further explanation as necessary for each...<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adCjJk4xsSw">Africa Unite</a></i> (Bob Marley) Remember that one time in May 2015 when my back went out, and I spent 4 days in the hospital all jacked up on steroids and muscle relaxers? Yeah, that's kind of a blurry memory for me, too. Except for this song. I was trying really hard to rest, but my sweet little old lady roommate kept trying to get out of her bed, and tripping the alarm...like every 20 minutes for two whole entire days. My only recourse was to shove my earbuds as far into my ears as possible and just let Youtube videos run until I could cry myself to sleep. How pathetic is that? And one morning, at about 2am, this song came on, and soothed me in such a weird way. When I passed the anniversary of my injury, I brought this little gem back out, and found myself very grateful for the relief it had provided.<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yc0cYtnwRsw"><i>Are You Ready for the Country?</i> </a>(Neil Young) Clearly, we were. Living in Little House in the Holler is fantastic. I love it, every single day. The quiet, the way the light travels across the face of the hills, how every season has brought us new sight-lines and beauty to witness...you should come visit as soon as you can.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_b5du0TIDS4">Battle Hymn of the Republic</a></i> (The Abyssinian Baptist Sanctuary Choir) Maybe one of my favorite sacred songs, this track was on heavy rotation for obvious reasons. I cry pretty much every time I hear it. This cover is an especially lovely acapella version. That last verse gets me right in all my feels.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yN4WSSNQJrU">Bears </a></i>(Lyle Lovett) I married into a family of hairy dudes. I think of my BIL's every time I hear this song, and this is also why one is listed as Brother Bear in my phone and the other is listed as Baby Bear. I also occasionally refer to Mr Jones as my sweet old bear, but he probably would be mortified if he knew I told you that.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwnjhxR_44A">Chief</a></i> (Patty Griffin) The way we treat our brothers and sisters from the First Nations makes me want to run and hide in shame.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35gheud5xBo&list=PL8a8cutYP7frgdDZSwCXbW56ybbFcV4YJ&index=9">Desolation Row</a></i> (Bob Dylan) Seriously, do you need me to work this one out for you? I feel like you probably know everything I want to say about this. I'll spare you the sermonizing. This time.<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQrpYfm_qUk"><i>Devil Town</i> </a>(Bright Eyes) Anytime I wander too far into the deep end of the nostalgia pool containing memories of my small-town childhood/adolescence, I have to listen to this song and sing real loud. Also, can we talk about how much I truly love <i>Friday Night Lights </i>and how badly I want to have Connie Britain's hair? SO MUCH. SO BAD. Do I have a track of me singing this on my phone? Yes, yes I do.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQyPVBtLXk0">Dink's Song</a> </i>(Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford) Instead of putting people on blast, I said my peace and walked away.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CW1SdVfx14">Empty Garden</a></i> (Elton John) My officemate died two days before my birthday. I miss him every day. I miss playing on projects with him and making beautiful books together, for Jesus and his friends.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYZpgaAeoQg">Failsafe</a></i> (The New Pornographers) I heard this song for the first time in 2007 listening to Fresh Air and stuck in traffic on the Dan Ryan Expressway. I spent many an evening watching the telly this fall, wondering if there was any such thing as a failsafe to stall and smother the flames that breached the walls of the keep. Alas, there was not. So I guess we're all going to enjoy roasting smores while Rome burns, huh?<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k35haKwqY14">Hard Times</a> </i>(Gillian Welch and David Rawlings) Plz see previous entry. Ain't gonna rule my mind no more.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXn_O8yECCQ">Head Over Heels</a> </i>(JD McPherson) If this song doesn't put some ass in your pants and make you want to dance around, you should probably make an appointment to go see your doctor.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35XptNZU2OA">Heroes (Wildebeest Mix)</a></i> (Peter Gabriel) Yeah, I know it's a cover of a beloved Bowie track, and that it was featured in a super cheesy war movie that I can't even deal with talking about for about a million and seven reasons, some of which would likely offend some of the people who will read this. I. Can't. However, it was also featured on <i>Stranger Things</i>, which took me all of two episodes to fall in love with.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ND4P-gy1PM">Hold On, I'm Coming</a></i> (Sam and Dave) This is a song that can be found on many of my playlists from the last decade. I adore this song. It always makes me feel better.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJTR_MHZOTQ">Hold Your Head High</a> </i> (The Heartless Bastards) Sing it, lady. Pull every single one of my guts out. Make me remember.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Def5J2wQP9M">I Hear Them All </a></i>(Dave Rawlings Machine)<i> </i>This is a really powerful theological musing, and makes me want to cry and pray and believe.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvlTJrNJ5lA">I Won't Back Down</a></i> (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers) Double ditto to previous statement.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQHbam8E5fw">If I Had My Way I'd Tear the Building Down</a> </i> (Blind Willie Johnson) Samson feels all my feels in this song. And Blind Willie...man...that wail...the taproot of so much of the music I have loved my whole life sits right in middle of him.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kf24-rgyOeI">If You Had a Vineyard</a> </i>(Sinead O'Connor) This song kills me. All I want to do is sing along. And live better. One of my childhood heroes...girl nails one of the cries of my heart.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYY1T7BYd9U">Luckiest Man</a></i> (The Wood Brothers) On days when I don't know how to pray for my brother, or think about him, or what to do with all my feelings, I listen to this song and it helps. This song has reminded me of him since the very first time I heard it, and I remember stopping and crying in the bathroom because I wanted to play it for him so bad. Maybe one day.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vumXiHcX-ec">Magpie to the Morning</a></i> (Neko Case) Mockingbirds and yellow meadowlarks live in the field our back porch looks right into. I loved watching all the birds flit and fly around our new digs this summer. I didn't even mind the starlings in the chimney...one of which greeted us in the living room while we were bringing in our first boxes. You know, they say a bird caught in a room is good luck...we managed to usher her outside before I had a panic attack or she pooed on either of our heads.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rrBGUqNBEgE">Run On</a></i> (Moby) How I managed to not hear this song until December 2016 is beyond me. But once I did, I put it on heavy rotation. Much like the JD McPherson track, if you don't find yourself at least tapping your foot along with the beat, you should have your pulse checked. Maybe think about adding a multi-vitamin or something.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1IWN3wjEEg">Secure Yourself </a></i>(Indigo Girls) Fasten up your earthy burdens. Gird up your loins. We're all in this together, and "it's a long walk back to Eden, sweetheart." Gulp.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huq4rIfgsa4">Sounds Like Hallelujah</a></i> (The Head and the Heart) This was one of the songs my beloved played me on our very first road trip, the same road trip where we planned an imaginary farm and realized we were seriously, crazy, deeply, in so much love it was both nauseating and cavity-producing and changed the entire course of the whole universe. For us, at least. As I remember, the first set of "wood's" came right as we were coming over the top of a hill to see a lady standing in her yard with a shotgun.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIv4skt38e0">Wah-Wah </a></i>(George Harrison) This was the first song George Harrison recorded after the break-up of the Beatles. I listened to it many times while I watched people I thought I knew unspool and say hurtful, awful, hateful, mean things that made me cry and block them from my newsfeed. I wish I had had the courage to say hard things to some of them. But that whole thing Jesus says about casting pearls before swine made me bite my tongue real hard.<br />
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wq2e7DPhyHg">When I Paint My Masterpiece</a> </i>(The Band) Like my friend Lady Julian says, "All things shall be well. And all things shall be well. And all things shall be very well."<br />
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mil besos,<br />
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rmgj<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-89690645008132298322015-09-11T11:04:00.001-05:002015-09-11T18:17:39.704-05:00For These and All Thy Blessings...<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today is a day for remembering. But this isn't a story about the memories you might think I ought to be writing about today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the head of a column of sweating and twitchy children clad in smothering black wool, gold piping, white epaulettes, smart white-topped hats, and gleaming white shoes, each of us asking the God of our own understanding to help us not drop our horn, or pants, or brains, there stood a man. He commanded the kind of respect from this marching, maturing, smelly, and slightly addled (on even the best of days) concoction of adolescence that might have rivaled the respect given Alexander the Great. This respect wasn't a product of intimidation, force, or compelled by fear. When this man looked into our faces , he met our gaze with kindness, and a twinkle in his eye that invited us to create, to learn a new way to play together. And that was the root of the respect we so rightly offered. The man was incredibly kind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This collection of unformed teenage angst, tensed with anticipation would have gone to the wall for this man; a man who ended our summers two weeks early, who ate up every Monday night of the fall semester, who made us wait to eat nachos until after halftime, who took us to Opryland that one time instead of DisneyWorld. We would have gone to the wall (and to whatever comes after the wall) for this man. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because he believed we could make beautiful music together, and because he showed us how, we believed him. He taught us how to walk, all over again. He taught us how to breathe, all over again. And then he taught us how to put all those things together. The man taught us to be good, very good at doing these things together. And he was proud. And he told us that we were special. He taught us about legacies, about being proud to so something well, all of us, all together. He told us we were good. We believed him. And we loved him so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we rounded the last bus, which was parked all cattywompass, the waiting crowd roared to their feet, whether they really thought they liked us or not. The air rippled with Indian Summer fervor. The sound hit like a brick, bouncing off everything, knocking my brains and lungs somewhere into the soles of my feet. We had been warned about this sound. They all said it was for us. But we knew the sound was really for him. There would be none of this if not for him. And that noise, the kind of noise that is so loud you feel it inside your chest, continued to rise. It seemed to insist to us that we were indeed ready to do what the man had taught us. Instead of feeling pressure to be perfect, we seemed to settle into the noise, letting it polish us, one last time. We put ourselves entirely to the task at hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then the sound went dead. Vision tunneled. Everything seemed to hover and hum. Babies and little kids even sat still. Grandmothers stopped digging in their bags for a hard candy. All the dads stopped flipping burgers outside of the concession stand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We sorted out into clumps and smaller lines and columns all along the sidelines. And then, the announcement...the salute...the sound off...and in a miracle of sound and fury, the pride of an entire county owned the joint, played their guts out, knocked UIL judges for loops, and made our parents weep with joy...and him, too. And we were beautiful. Mighty. Slick. Famed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And we were his. And he was ours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For many people, it would be easy enough to simply say that Butch Crudington taught band. But my God, how powerfully reductive that statement would be. He taught us the value of doing something together, of drawing on the things that we had in common, of making beautiful noise TOGETHER. He taught us to listen to each other, to balance each other out, to dress to the right, to roll from our heels to our toes so that our steps would be smooth and clean. And those lessons stick with a person, long after we left the band hall. Yes, he did teach band, but he taught us how to be good to each other, how to be good WITH each other, and dared us to BE GOOD, to be our best selves, to put all that work in motion. And those are lessons that last a lifetime, that inform vocations, that help friendships last the tests of time and distance, that make us better partners, better teachers, better musicians, and better human beings. It's tempting to think of his baton as a kind of magic wand, a talisman, some kind of powerful tool that he used to bewitch us into being good. But his hands, his eyes, his voice, and his very heart really did the hard work of teaching us. And those were simply miraculous. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my mother told me Mr. C had died, I thought about the legendary line spoken at Lincoln's deathbed, "Now, he belongs to the ages." I think that's just about right for my teacher, the man who stood at the head of a column of children, and taught them to be good. I also thought about the volumes of sound we put into the atmosphere with him, for him, and how some of those waves must surely still be bouncing and echoing off of the particles in the very highest stratosphere, maybe we even played loud enough for some of that noise to have gone into space. I imagine our best shows, our most perfect notes clinging to each other, streaming still, beauty extending and lengthening and rebounding off the very walls of creation. And though my heart is heavy, that thought makes me smile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Childhood ends. We wade into adulthood, and spend decades sifting through what to keep and what to throw away from our formative years. I keep these memories. I memorize them the way I memorized the fight song--like my life depends on it. Learning to play together, to make something beautiful, to create, to perform, and to be proud are the root lessons of a life well lived. I am grateful to have been Mr. C's student. I'm grateful that he knew how loved and special he was to so many of us. We wrote him love letters twenty feet high, defacing public streets to proclaim our love and loyalty to him. And we can still tell him we love him every time we make music, every time we can walk across a room without falling down, every time we encourage those around us to be their best, and check our tuning. He knows as he is fully known. And that is more miracle than any of us could ask or imagine for our teacher and friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May he rest in peace, and rise in glory. Thanks be to God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rmgj </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-69000843982963188552015-04-13T12:11:00.002-05:002015-04-13T12:11:49.992-05:00eleven hundred days: a retrospective<div style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px;">Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poem</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--Walt Whitman</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.</span></h1>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">-</span>-Gwendolyn Brooks</span></h1>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>--Paulo Coelho</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">we are good at a lot of things, and getting better every day. one thing we are not great at is taking pictures. but i have all these snapshots stored in my brain, envelopes full of mental polaroids...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">the envelope marked first date would have pictures of the teenage girls who complimented your beard on our first date (remember how long it was!), of us eating breakfast tacos at the farmers' market, of the grin i couldn't wipe off my face for days afterward. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">in those earliest days, there are pictures of a flock of wild turkeys, trails in the woods, rivers we swam in or drove across, funny little diners and fancy little diners and splitting whatever chocolate thing is on the dessert menu. meeting family, meeting friends, meeting all the other people who are important for us to know--collages of cousins, kin, co-conspiritors--all those faces we love and who love us. pictures of road trips--of monuments and moments, of menu screens for podcasts and menus for new things to try, stories and backstories, laughter and tears, learning something new every single second. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">we have packed and cleaned and moved and cleaned and unpacked and repacked and cleaned and moved and unpacked...a lot. no photo album would be complete without a picture of us changing out the fan in our bedroom, or painting miles of walls, or brushing sawdust off of...everything, assembling boxes, sorting through what to keep and what to throw away, sharing advil and icepacks and snuggles and snores. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">there would be a picture of me sleeping, and a picture of you watching your zombie shows on Saturday mornings, pictures of the dog and cat whining and hissing at each other from opposite sides of the baby gate, pictures of us making dinner in our impossibly tiny kitchen, me watching you watching football or you watching me count stitches in my latest attempt to be crafty. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">all these moments, tiny snapshots...they sparkle and glitter and shine. i continue to be utterly amazed and grateful that i get to share them with my beloved. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">mil besos,</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">rmgj</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-89827597631423227502015-03-17T10:07:00.002-05:002015-03-17T11:59:14.377-05:00Lent 2015He came to save us...to save the world. He still does it every single day. One time, he even went all the way to hell, and back again. He did it for you. He did it for me. He did it, and would do it, all over again, even if there was only one of us left. He did it for people who have no idea what or who or how he is or was or will be. He did the one and only thing he was ever born to do--he saved the world.<br />
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There’s no magic in what Jesus did in his life, and with his life. Oh sure, there are big and giant events of the radically unexplained all in and around and through and beyond his life. But there’s no magic. There’s just love. There’s an absolutely transcendental refusal of the will to power, and a daily acceptance of the fact that we are broken and dying, and the only real way any of us can be saved or be called good is to love and be loved.<br />
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Jesus lived fully committed and enfleshed to that reality, and stood eyeball to eyeball and toe to toe with the broken and dying world, and did the least rational and most redemptive thing he possibly could have done, and just loved the hell out of it. Loves the hell out of it. Loves our sharp and pointy edges and wheezes and insomnia and hardness and forgetfulness and spite...loves us down to the bottom of where all those things wrestle, and sits down with us in it, and wipes our faces, and helps us get back on our feet, and put our faces to the sun, and start to become whole and...holy.<br />
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Jesus talks to Nicodemus about being lifted up the desert, like the brazen serpent of Moses, during the forty years of wandering. See, that serpent was a healing talisman, and it went up, at the head of camp, at the same time and with the same attention and fervor that the Tabernacle went up. It was huge, and way up high, so to be seen from most every vantage point. The Children of Israel had been tasked with treading upon the adder’s head for even longer than they had been wandering in the desert, and this desert seemed to have an abundance. People were bitten, people died. It was unpleasant. It was not unexpected or unheard of. But it sure made the going tougher than it already was. A remedy was lifted, and all anyone who was bitten had to do was look at it, and be healed.
<br />
<br />
Sometimes, we get too deep into the fancy business of church or trying to live self-actualized and adult lives, and we get bitten. And it stings. The sting reminds us that we are actually kind of fragile, that no matter how hard we try we may still be caught off-guard. When we come to that kind of understanding about our brokenness--by being broken, it’s hard to look up. It’s hard to look at Jesus and see that the love he lived and lives is the only way to get better. We feel bad for falling, in the first place, for not seeing a snake in the grass when we should have been paying closer attention than ever, and maybe we feel like looking up is like taking a get out of jail free card, and that’s bad, because we’re not playing by the rules.<br />
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We get caught up in the pain and shock and hurt of the bite, of the blood and the mess, and forget to look up, because OH MY GOD, NO ONE HAS EVER FELT PAIN LIKE THIS EVER, EVER, AND IT MUST MEAN I’M ALL ALONE AND FINALLY GOT WHAT WAS COMING TO ME. Or maybe that’s just me.
When life bites, and it’s always when I least expect it, always at the worst time possible, always when my defenses and reserves are running low, it’s hard to remember to look up, to see Jesus and his love lifted up in front of me, and sometimes, it’s just hard to meet his gaze, to admit my weakness, my inability to save myself, my lack of vigilance and competency laid bare for Jesus all the world (or so it feels) to see.<br />
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But I know that’s the only way to not die in the dust, with the curse of the ages clinging around my feet. I know it’s the way back to life, to love, and to the deep joy Jesus offers us with a life among God’s people of all shades and shapes and sensibilities. I know it’s the way I remember the some of the very best and deepest things I know--that God so loved the world.<br />
<br />
That’s you.<br />
And that’s me.<br />
Every single day.<br />
<br />
mil besos,
rmgj Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-73604083932921889872014-03-21T14:48:00.003-05:002014-03-21T14:48:54.004-05:00Mixtapes From Babylon: Conspiracy Theory, Pt. 3<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was on my yoga mat one day, twisting and turning myself and trying not to worry too much about going to hell for chanting mantras along with the video. I’d done this series of exercises enough times to be able to do most of the whole practice with my eyes closed. About half-way through the warm up, I could feel myself just grinning from ear to ear, smiling so hard and so big that I could feel all my teeth showing and my head tilted back. As I was holding a deep breath, with my arms and clasped hands over my head, just at the point where I was sure I was going to have to take a breath or pass out, this incredible wave of peace and bliss and awakeness and deep, fathomless love leveled me. In the maybe-30 seconds of that held breath, something so precious was made clear to me--in that next breath I took (as willful and purposeful as every single one I’ve taken before or since, or ever will until I breathe my last), I felt inside myself and around myself and in all the places there are to go in the whole wide universe a deep and profound connectedness to God as the source and very substance of my breath. God was so very very big, and so very very good, and still found the time to love me so much as to show up under my very nose. To have such a kindness extended to me, this breath...this life...all the goodness around me...to have that personal and intimate exchange with God just by breathing is awe-inspiring, and so incredibly humbling. That the Creator of All Things bothers with something as silly as my next little breath...or yours...or any of ours...that’s a wonder and a mercy. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-a3799fa5-e626-aa69-76f5-e25045117ade" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This breath took place on a little rectangle of carpet, in my old bedroom, on my blue yoga mat. I’m sure the cat was looking on disdainfully from the edge of the bathtub, in that odd and judgey way that cats have of staring at their humans. It was a perfectly ordinary breath, but it changed everything. That breath was so sweet, not rushed or hiccupy or choking. I remember taking this long, luxurious sip through my nose, of feeling warm/not hot, kind of buzzy, and that strange feeling I always think of as the Scorcese Stretch--you know the one, where the dolly zoom gets all up in your head and you realize what you’re really supposed to be seeing. And even as I felt myself taking the breath, I felt utterly detatched from it--my lungs were glad to have it, and immediately began putting it to good use. But my head and my heart and my soul, I guess, whatever Trinity of self I possess, basked in the glow of a Presence, of that first and always animating breath, of whispers of the true and best things about life and love, of sighs that transcend words, and the angelic harmonies of all the voices that ever were praising a God who just loves, loves, loves; who hopes and strives mightily with us to help us find ways to love God back, to see and feel the breath of God under the nose of every single person we meet, to love the next breath in our brother’s nose as much as we love the next in our own. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This feeling I felt was like nothing I’ve felt before or since. I’ve reconciled myself to knowing that something like that may be a once in a life-time deal. I read the story about how Moses had to veil his face after seeing just God’s back, because being in the presence of the Almighty rubs off on a person, and seeing Moses all aglow in the suntan of I AM apparently really freaked out the Children of Israel. I also read the story about how Elijah climbed the mountain to give God the finger--the really bad finger, the one you take out and point and shake and use to gesture with when you want to say, “Listen, dude...I’m doing what you asked me to do, what you made me to do. I’m doing it. We’ve got a situation you wouldn’t believe, and all I’m asking for you to do is WORK WITH ME HERE, LORD. What, with all due respect, is the damn deal?” And God (using one of the three approved voices I really wouldn’t mind God sounding like) tells him to go stand outside the mouth of the cave in which he’d been hiding. You probably know the rest, but I’ll fill you in--God ditches the obvious entrances of wind storm, pillar of fire, and earthquake, and instead Elijah finds himself clinging to a cleft in the rock and veiling his face with his cloak as a whisper of wind blew by him. Just a whisper, a breath, a tangible and transcendental and utterly common occurrence, just God being God. I felt like that...awe struck by the regularity, the normalness, the banality of my breath, even as I revelled in this glow of compassion and loving kindness, this dazzling golden light that seemed to be all I could see behind my closed eyelids. God was there, loving me, right under my nose, and I stretched out as long and tall as I could and rested in that warm and lovely place. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Breathing has become a sacred thing for me. It’s the simplest of the sacraments I celebrate in my life. It’s my outward and physical sign of an inward and spiritual grace. Every single one is precious. I want to be careful with them, spend the well. A phrase I heard on NPR the other day strikes me as particularly insightful, “I knew the moments were finite, yet unknowable.” So it is with my breath, and with yours, and everyone else’s, and that’s one of the reasons why we should be mindful with whom we share our breaths, with whom and over what we may conspire. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the final analysis, one more breath can mean one more step, one more kind word, one more time to do what God has for you to do to the best of your ability, one more time to fully accept and love the world around you even when it's broken and dying and hard. One more breath will sink you or save you, but the reality of that breath is that it's not yours, it's borrowed and recycled and regenerated and so full of possibility and potential and fathomless love and mercy. It comes from the very mouth of God, and pours life and wonder into our little clay lumps of self, and it's job to conserve that breath, to use it well, to focus the intention of our life-force--our nephesh, our ruach, our prana, our whispers and sighs--into words of love and peace and kindness, even when the words are hard to find, and seem to get caught in the backs of our throats. </span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To breathe together, to conspire, connotes a kind of intimacy. Whispers, susserations, mutterings, sighs, noises that could barely properly be called vocalizations, almost mouthing the words--this is what we do when we hatch a plan, when we share breath, when we conspire, when we say i love you in the dark of night, when we argue in the bathroom surrounded by a houseful of people, when we take a cab to the airport, or conference in the hall before a meeting. We share breath and intention and life in those breaths, with those people. We should be careful that they are good people, that we and they are using those collected breaths to move onward and upward, people who can remind us, even on our worst days, that the wonders of a mighty God, lie just under our nose. In a place like Babylon--this broken and dying world around us, this place where we don’t fit right, where we are so painfully reminded of our own brokenness and that of others just by rubbing up against each other--we have to remember that, we have to be reminded of it--the real trick at the heart of it all is for all of us, just to keep breathing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mil besos,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">rmgj</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">---</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">P.S. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember taking a deep breath, one afternoon, not too very long ago. I took this breath and looked right into his big blue eyes, and told him I loved him for the very first time, ever. I'd been thinking it for the entire back half of the last week, before I saw him, again. Every time I thought it, this thought that I loved him, I felt like I had to take a deep breath and find my legs, again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, I found myself looking at him, in his blue flannel shirt, sitting on my green couch, windblown from riding 90 miles in his van with the windows down, and still wearing his super-long beard, and I took this breath, and tried so hard not to be afraid or timid or talk myself out of it. In an outrush of breath that I was supremely happy did not come out as vomit, I told him that I loved him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And then he took a breath, and said he loved me, too. There have been many breaths between us--plans hatched, comments shared, dreams said out loud, discussions about all the house keeping minutae no one can make romantic, concerns and struggles. To be able to share breath with him is a precious thing to me, something that goes deeper than words, and into my bones. To know that we share breath together, and share it with a Creator who loved us into being and loved us into each other...well, that makes me have to take a big breath, and breathe out a very ardent and grateful sigh, a deep prayer of joy and thankfulness. xoxo-r</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-43697030310672360982014-03-19T15:03:00.000-05:002014-03-19T15:03:05.795-05:00Mixtapes From Babylon: Conspiracy Theory Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://longvalleylane.blogspot.com/2013/07/conspiracy-theory-part-one.html">to read the first part of this essay, follow this link...</a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">at various points in my life, yoga has been a really important practice. sometimes, i even dream about yoga poses or classes or things to do with yoga, besides the really comfy pants. sometimes, when i can’t pray or don’t know what to pray for, and i feel restless and ill-at-ease, i can do a practice, and feel better. some people walk labyrinths, some people have therapists, some people do yoga, go to confession, take long walks, read their Bible, journal, whatever. when i feel my brokenness poking through, i know the place i most belong for God to say what needs to be heard is on my yoga mat. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-a3799fa5-dbf2-3aad-bf7e-c51d4cf061d5" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">which brings us up to the present day. i’m thirty-five. i’m married to the absolute love of my life. we’re about to celebrate two years of knowing each other. he is amazing. he loves me so much and so well that some days, i even believe i’m the badass he says i am. and there are other days when i am hopelessly unconvinced of my awesomeness, and just pray he doesn’t figure out all the terrible shitty things i know to be true about myself and know that he will stay married to me, anyway, because he’s amazing and loves me, just the same, and poor him. gross. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">i can’t overstate the fact that i am terribly grateful for this man, and for the life we make together. i could not have picked out a more appropriate and perfectly suited mate for my soul. every single day, i become more and more convinced he was absolutely custom made. he is one of the best and brightest ways i see the face of Jesus in the world, and know the love of God in my life. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">all of that is true, and so is the fact that right now, i’m just having a hard time feeling settled inside my own head. there’s kind of a lot going on. life keeps happening, and whether or not i really could go for a two-week break on anything new happening at all, anywhere in the world, and just get kind of caught up doesn’t mean jack squat, in the grand scheme of things. this is not how life works. sometimes, i have to get right with the fact that occasionally life gets a little busy and pokey and super-tiring and hard, and the thing i need to do most is just keep breathing. but holy smokes, my brain is so full, and it's a really good thing my brain remembers to breathe for me, because if i had to remember to do it every few seconds or so, at some point in the day, i would probably die. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">we may be moving into a new house. i have 2.5 jobs, and six email addresses to manage. my work life is going to quintuple over the summer, and my job is still kind of strange and new to me, and while i know it’ll be fine, i’m kind of freaking the deuce out, because TRANSITION TO NEW THING I’VE NEVER DONE BEFORE. and until that time, i’m trying to bill as many hours as i responsibly can at two very different but equally lovely non-profits, and subbing for the public school system. it's kind of hard not to worry about those things...and other things...to just breathe through them, the way i have to remember to breathe through at charley horse at three a.m. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mostly, i worry about money and not making enough, and it always being winter and never Christmas and cancer and car wrecks and vulnerability and resilience and not being a whiner and is this shit normal at all and why does every third person seem to want to vote on whether we have kids or not and the damn bells have stopped being charming because sometimes it’s nice to sleep uninterrupted until 9:30 and should i cut my hair or leave it or does it make me vain to even think about that and i really need to buy a new jar of eye cream and did we eat enough protein this week i have no idea what i want to watch on tv and this rug is puckering in a funny way and i’m excited about buying a new dress but i don’t want to try one on and god i hope i don’t look like a dumb shit in the pictures (tangent--it’s not my wedding, why should i be giving a shit about if i look good in someone else’s pictures...so tacky to be so selfish) and why did it bother me so much that those kids were mean to me and called me a bitch and why was i afraid of them why did i feel like i had to shout to be heard or that i had anything worth saying to them that would make a difference in their lives did someone tell that child they were loved before they left the house did they have a house to leave why do i feel so white and so naive and does this mean i’m secretly this dumb about everything else in the whole world and no one had the heart to just tell me to wake up and smell the fried okra god i hope i remembered to put salt in that...</span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">i don’t mean to issue heavy silence, because this shit, this broken tape of things I’m not even trying to hear, is not about anyone but me. and i suspect, at our toughest and most tired moments, all of us have unwound just a little bit. and i am quiet, right now. on the couch, at night, during the day. i work a lot from home, when i’m not in meetings or in a classroom. our house can feel very big and very quiet. and sometimes, that is really great. when i’m doing what i like to think of as “reassessing”, it’s sometimes easy to get swallowed up by a big space, and i end up feeling even smaller than when i started. i think that’s why lately, i’ve been sticking to the kitchen table and the backyard. even while i’m feeling kind of pokey and broken, right now, it’s nice to be able to watch the light change across the table and watch spring creep into the backyard. the light and the color remind me that this part won’t feel so pokey and broken, forever. </span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and yoga breathing...i didn’t forget...part three to follow...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mil besos,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">rmgj</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-9361043464624514242013-09-07T10:59:00.002-05:002013-09-07T10:59:54.511-05:00The Least of These...<div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 1.7em;">
By latest count, UNICEF estimates that one million Syrian children have become refugees, since the start of the civil war. One million children are displaced, homeless, and surviving in camps or have been taken into homes and communities in Jordan, and elsewhere.</div>
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Let me put that into perspective for you. Imagine if the entire city of Austin, Texas were made up of children, and that whole city was forced to evacuate to Houston or San Antonio, and they had to walk the whole way. Some of them would be alone, without a grown up to love and care for them, or make sure they were safe at night. Some of them would be wounded or recovering from attacks. Most of them would have seen things that no one, no matter how old they are, should ever see. Some of them would have watched their parents or siblings or relatives die in front of them. Some of them would be in shock. All of them need to be loved. Chaos…chaos and questions with no good answers, and the incredible strain on infrastructure, and no end in sight, either to the conflict or the on-coming tide of more people being forced out of their homes.</div>
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One million children who don’t have political loyalties or understand why they are being forced to leave have seen with their own eyes the horrors of sectarian violence that you and I cannot even begin to fathom. And that’s to say nothing of their parents, caretakers, surviving relatives, and remnants of their communities. These children, by and large, unless an almighty change begins and is effective, will spend months or years growing up in refugee camps. Most of them will not have access to the kind of educational opportunities, or physical and mental health care that should be the right of every child, everywhere. And we have to ask ourselves what coming of age in a refugee camp does to a person. One of my political science professors was fond of reminding us that moderates do not grow up in camps.</div>
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I don’t have any answers for what to do with or for these children, except to pray. One million children…one million little lives, just at the cusp of understanding, little people who should be out in the sunshine, and not walking a long and dangerous road into a tented camp…it’s enough to break your heart. I'm absolutely bowled over by the hospitality the people of Syria's neighboring countries have shown to those displaced by war, especially the people of Jordan.</div>
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Not to get all geo-political and preachy on you, but I wonder what we would do if over two million refugees from Mexico or Canada started pouring over our borders, seeking refuge and solace and peace. Would we take them into our homes, into our families, would we be willing to make space for them in our parks and industries and daily lives? Some days, I doubt that very much. I am so grateful to the communities in the Middle East who have taken Syria's displaced people, especially the children, into their lives with such grace and mercy. I am humbled by it, and challenged to ask hard questions about the way the US treats refugees and those seeking asylum from all sorts and kinds of violence and strife.</div>
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If you have a few extra pennies, there are a several very good and very reputable organizations that can put them to work, helping these little people and their families have better days. Some of them you can find here: <a data-mce-href="http://www.cnn.com/2013/09/06/world/iyw-how-to-help-syrian-refugees/index.html" href="http://www.cnn.com/2013/09/06/world/iyw-how-to-help-syrian-refugees/index.html" style="color: #333333;">http://www.cnn.com/2013/09/06/world/iyw-how-to-help-syrian-refugees/index.html</a>. You can also visit www.episcopalrelief.org to find out how you can help, as well. As always, your thoughts and prayers, your awareness of the situation and willingness to share your information goes a long, long way to helping them, as well.</div>
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<br /></div>
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mil besos,</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 1.7em;">
rmgj</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-71183175289706433082013-07-10T23:19:00.000-05:002013-07-10T23:19:32.494-05:00Conspiracy Theory, Part One<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<a href="" name="C5612400"><i><u><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspire</span></u></i></a><i><u><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></u></i><i><u><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></u></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">v.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspired</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, </span></i><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspiring</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, </span></i><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspires</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">v.intr.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">1.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To
plan together secretly to commit an illegal or wrongful act or accomplish a
legal purpose through illegal action.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">2.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To
join or act together; combine: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">"Semisweet chocolate,
cocoa powder, espresso, Cognac, and vanilla all conspire to intensify</span> [the
cake's] <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">flavor"</span> <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">(Sally Schneider).</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">v.tr.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To plan or plot
secretly.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Middle English <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">conspiren</span>, from Old French, from Latin <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">cōnspīrāre</span> : <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">com-</span>, com- + <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">spīrāre</span>, to breathe together.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspirer</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">n.</span></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">conspiringly</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">adv.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background-color: #e5eff4; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">--The
American Heritage Dictionary</span></i></b><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;"> “Love is a portion of the soul itself, and it
is of the same nature as the celestial breathing of the atmosphere of
paradise.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">--<b>Victor Hugo</b><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">““And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the
ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life;<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> and the man
became a living soul. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Genesis
2:7<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of
feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,
but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain
that a faithful hand <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and
<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><i><span style="background: #EDF1F7; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">--George
Eliot</span></i></b><b><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">In
Babylon, the strength of your conspiracy theories, seriously having the courage
of your convictions, will sink you or save you.
Now, I’m not talking about whether or not you believe Lee Harvey Oswald
acted alone, or if you only drink bottled water because you think fluoride is
eating your brain. I’m talking about
conspiracy theories in the strictest, old-school, deep and nerdy Latin meaning. Conspiracy means, most basically, to breath
together--like whispering, sighing, saying things just barely out loud enough
for the person right next to you to hear.
With whom you choose to conspire, to test your life theories—the breath
that backs up what you have to say about your life and the world, and what you
think God means, or what love feels like, or what to do about the hard hanging curveballs
that life throws…that, friends and neighbors, is what it’s <b>all</b> about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Without
inviting you into the inner sanctum of our life, I can tell you when I wake up
in the middle of the night, sometimes scared or anxious or nervous about
whatever life stuff I or we are in the middle of processing, I put my ear up
against his back, and listen to the love of my life breathe, and try to match
my own respiration to that rhythm.
Usually, instead of dropping off to sleep, I’ll fight to stay awake just
a bit longer to kind of marinate in our shared breath. I may have laundry lists
of tasks to complete, and fight anxiety about my extended family, or jobs, or
selling my condo, or third world debt, or the climate change, but in those
breaths in the quiet hours of the night, I find myself really believing that all
things shall be well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I
remember the night one of my besties came to my backdoor, weeping inconsolably
because some ridiculous asshole masquerading as a grown-ass man with his life
together had just broken her heart into about a million pieces. Before we could unpack the hurt, and find a
way forward, or go pick out new shoes, we breathed together for a long
time. At first, there were the wracking
sobs, you know the kind—you’ve breathed those breaths on your own, or with
someone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">They feel like they start at your feet, somewhere just behind the
cuticle on your big toe, and tear their way out of your insides, making your
throat and everything else in between burn and smolder, and even as deeply as
they are drawn, you never feel like you can really catch your breath. There are hiccups, there are shallow gasps,
and words to try and chew out, or explanations or apologies. And at some point,
you start to slow down, the thoughts slow from ludicrous-speed-plaid to warp-speed
silvery-white, and you start to hear the sounds you’re making, and begin to
compose yourself. The hot tears start,
rather than just the apex of emotion tear-quirts, rolling long and fat down
your face, and puddling in the well of your throat or on your pillow, or the
steering wheel, or the shirt of whoever is holding you. And mostly you’re not trying to talk, you’re
just trying to stop making noise, and you’re breathing a little bit deeper, a
little bit longer, and are starting to catch up with yourself. And you get better. And soon, you’re back to your breath, your normal breath, with just a
tremble, every now and then. And the
breath draws you back to yourself, to hear, and to now. You may be sobbing again, in another hour, or
in the morning, or over something stupid on tv or the radio, or because you
remember the sharpness of whatever it was that made you cry in the first place. And you’ll do it until you’re done. It was that way the night in my driveway,
with my bestie. Catching our breath, catching up to the hurt, catching up to the present moment was what
brought us back inside, and helped my darling friend figure out how to dust
herself off, and process, and move forward.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Breathing
is something that’s easily taken for granted.
Two experiences in my life have radically reformed the way I think about
breath, about the way I try to value my breath, to be connected to it, even as
I realize I don’t control it, my brain and God are in charge of that. One is really easy to talk about, easy to
share with you, and the other is one I’d rather not relate, because it’s a sad
story, and I don’t want to end up at the end of this paragraph sobbing. But, tell the truth and shame the Devil,
right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Yoga…yoga
helped me to connect to my breath in a very…and I hate this word…spiritual
way. I was able to access the idea of
the Holy Spirit in a whole new way, to see around the corner of what grace
might look and feel like in that every day and sacramental banality of
breath. Breath, in yoga-speak, is known
as prana, or life-force. Your prana is
what connects you to everything in the Universe, it’s what connects you to the
Infinite Divine. It’s the way I came to
understand the story of Adam, and God’s animating breath. Learning to connect those dots, man…it
changed the way I pray, changed the way I calm myself down when I’m upset, how I
teach Sunday School…everything. When I am mindful of my breath, when I can lose
myself in breathing during my practice or during the Eucharist, or when I have
my ear pressed up against my husband’s precious back, I feel so deeply
connected to a well of love and mercy, to a source of comfort and compassion
that can only be called God. It is my life-force, it is what animates me and
empowers me in this experience of this life, this present and incredible life.
And in those breaths, I am never afraid, I never think about not taking another
breath, there is nothing but love and hope and light and good things. Such deep
breaths, and so restful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
night my father died, I learned some hard lessons about breath. All those days
before that day, over fifty of them, that last time in the hospital, all those
days, that last breath seemed like it was going to happen any minute. There’s a point at which I guess I just
became numb to that fact, to the exhausting inevitability of that last breath,
and not knowing whether to be relieved or horrified or both. Mostly, I just put my head down and went to
school, and prayed to God that I wouldn’t hear my name over the loudspeaker. I
remember being convinced that he would die while I was at the prom or Six Flags
Senior Day. He died on a Sunday, two
weeks after prom and the day after Six Flags.
And five days before I graduated.
Honest to God, I don’t remember if I was in the room when it happened,
or if I saw him after he died. If I was,
or if I did, I have no memory of it, and I am so thankful for that. I left the room, I know, at some point,
because I couldn’t stand the noise, couldn’t handle all the feelings I was
feeling, of how the walls felt like they were closing in and I knew there was
no way I could unsee or unheard anything that was happening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I felt like a coward for the longest time
about that, about leaving that room when I did. But I forgave that 18 year old
girl a long time ago. I couldn’t stand how it made me feel to hear those
breaths. I wanted them to get better, to
clear up, for the last nine months to have been reconciled, but I also just
wanted them to stop, because I knew it wasn’t going to get better. And I
honestly could not conceive of a way for things to have gotten worse, unless it
was for him to just keep breathing like that for another…day, week…? And he stopped. For the first time in two weeks, he opened
his eyes, and focused on something at the far end of the room, and he stopped.
And that’s the day I learned in a concrete and visceral way that people really
do die. Even people you love the most in
the world, and it doesn’t matter how much you love them, or how much you pray,
eventually, we all die. That next breath,
however tortured or peaceful, will not come. And that is a hard thing to know,
on a bone-deep level, and not just in some philosophical blah-blah kind of way.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The yoga
story came after the part where my dad died, and I’m grateful for that. Coming to an understanding about how my
breath is borrowed from the mouth of God means that everyone else’s is too, and
that’s changed the way I treat people, how I love them, what I do with my
breath. And it makes me less afraid of
the day when I or someone I love stops breathing. I know it will be hard, harder than I can
imagine. And I don’t want to think about
those days. But this is real life, and
we can’t just pretend it’s all baby farts and rainbows. You have to hold that reality in both hands,
or go crazy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">End of
Part One<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-11386879778333221512013-04-28T21:52:00.000-05:002013-04-28T21:52:15.221-05:00A Babylonian Ice Cream Social<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
The universe is an intelligence test. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
--Timothy Leary</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
One day when I was practicing chanting in my temple in Vietnam, there was a </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
durian on the altar that had been offered to the Buddha. I was trying to recite the Lotus Sutra, using a wooden drum and a large bowl-shaped bell for accompaniment, but I could not concentrate at all. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I finally carried the bell to the altar and turned it upside down to imprison the durian, so I could chant the sutra. After I finished, I bowed to the Buddha and liberated the durian. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
If you were to say to me, "Thây, I love you so much I would like you to eat some of this durian," I would suffer. You love me, you want me to be happy, but you force me to eat durian. That is an example of love without understanding. Your intention is good, but you don't have the correct understanding.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Thich Nhat Hanh, </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
The real damage is done by those millions who want to "survive." </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don't want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won't take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Those who don't like to make waves — or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honor, truth, and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It's the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you'll keep it under control. If you don't make any noise, the bogeyman won't find you. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
But it's all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
--sophie scholl</div>
<br />
<br />
There was a time in my young life when it was necessary for me to go to daycare. I hated it. My dislike for daycare was so strong and fierce that when I didn’t have to go anymore, my dad made me a daycare graduation certificate. It’s not like I was molested or kept in a cage, or anything dramatic. But daycare was not my house, not my toys, and it felt like (even though there were probably only 10 or 11 of us) there were 40 kids crammed into this little house. The lady who kept the daycare was a nice lady, as I remember, who had a penchant for daytime soaps. One of the three things I vividly remember about daycare was being introduced to The Young and the Restless (which I called the Lung and the Restless until I was about five or six), a fact I’m sure didn’t delay my parents in pulling me out of day care as soon as possible. <br />
<br />
Vivid memory number two: peeing my pants and getting into major trouble for it, from all directions, and getting teased for doing it. Never mind the fact that I was waiting for the bathroom, and Craig, who I already didn’t like was taking the longest dump in kid history and I told the lady I HAD TO GO. I remember standing in that hallway and feeling the gush down my legs, soaking through the terrycloth of my little kid shorts. Ever since then, I’ve tried my very best to make it to the bathroom at the very first hint of needing to tinkle. Some shit I don’t forget, people.<br />
<br />
This brings me to vivid memory number three, and possibly the central reason I hated daycare. The lady who kept us was a nice lady—nice enough to let us be in the same room when she watched her soaps, nice enough to not yell too much when I had a hard time napping, and nice enough to give us ice cream. Not a bad deal, really. Except that the ice cream was always Neapolitan. Always. Hear me now: on the list of things I really don’t like in this world--including cancer, crushing poverty, bigotry, and violence—Neapolitan ice cream ranks just below the threat of thermonuclear warfare and slightly above having to go to the mall at Christmas time. I hated it as a little kid, and I hate it as an adult. If given the choice between Neapolitan ice cream and something you scraped off the bottom of the cat box and froze, I’d have to give it a real long think. Seriously. <br />
<br />
See, the real problem with Neapolitan ice cream is that there’s just too much going on. I know, I know…it’s only three flavors, and it’s the three favorite flavors of the entire ice cream eating universe, all smooshed up together in one big happy carton. All I really care about is the chocolate. I can handle the vanilla, if I have to. But, you guys…there is no flavor in the world that makes me want to barf more than fake strawberry. Ugh, I get all spitty and burpy just thinking about it. As luck would have it, the daycare Neapolitan always had chocolate in the middle. You’d think that would be the prime spot to put the chocolate, since it’s sort of the main attraction to all right thinking people in the world. But it’s invariably played down by the vanilla, and the strawberry leeches into it, and you just taste everything all at once. And it’s not just one flavor…it’s all of them. And that, to my three-almost-four year old mouth (and to my almost-35-year-old mouth) was just too much business, especially when one of the overriding flavors is one that makes me want to barf. <br />
<br />
Living a real life in Babylon is a lot like eating my way through a huge freaking carton of Neapolitan ice cream. The best stuff, the stuff to get excited about, to stand in line for, to sweat, work, cry, bleed, and truly love is usually sandwiched between the insipid and the outright awful. And I almost never get to take one single bite of any one flavor. There’s no working my way through the strawberry awfulness with a furtively hidden gag and watery eyes, knowing that in two more bites I can have the ho-hum vanilla and the truly sublime chocolate. And that is hard. <br />
<br />
My father and my grandfather used to remind me, often in identical phrasing, that we all have to take the bitter with the sweet. And boy, do we ever. And the bitter and the sweet come in the most exhausting combinations…like getting all excited to see my far-flung cousins, and crying for an hour because the reunion is at a funeral, or having a really great tax refund, only to blow out two tires and have to spend the money on the car instead of a fun weekend. It’s knowing that my wedding day was the most special and holy and wonderful day and I got to marry the most incredible man who loves me more than I can possibly comprehend, and that my brother showed up drunk and late. It’s peeing in my pants and having my mother bring me dry ones and giving me a big hug in the middle of the day, and still getting dessert at lunch, except it’s freaking Neapolitan ice cream, every damn time. But that’s life. And it’s life in Babylon, for sure. We take the bitter with the sweet, and know that somehow, in some way (that’s both magical and miraculous) the two sensations buffer each other. <br />
<br />
Sweetness can kill us and numb us just as much as bitterness can suck all the moisture from our mouths and make us feel jaded. But because they come together, it’s just about impossible to be carried away by either one, and hopefully, we end up, if not satisfied, at least sated...and if not sated, well, at least we know we had something to sustain and nourish us. <br />
<br />
T.S. Eliot understood that concept, and I think that’s why he said that April was the cruelest month, and this month has reminded me of that quote, over and over…the whole world is blooming, and winter is receding and we’re all set to work on our gardens and tans, and I’m celebrating meeting my husband a whole year ago, and along comes North Korea, and the Boston Marathon bombing, and a building collapse in Bangladesh, and George Jones and my Aunt Lu freaking die. The sweet reek of the flavor I most ardently dislike encroaches on the ones I love best, and they are all in my mouth, and there’s nothing to do but swallow and take a big drink of whatever is nearest to hand to clear my palate. <br />
<br />
It’s hard to swallow all of those things gracefully and gratefully. But the alternative isn’t as simple as it was in daycare. Refusal is not an option. We lick our plates and bowls clean, in this part of the world. Even the crappiest tasting, crappiest feeling, crappiest of crappy desserts is still dessert. It’s still nourishment, and nourishment brings life—a life that is moving and being and changing and rising and dying, and I don’t want to forget that. Because even thought the strawberry bleeds into the chocolate, and the vanilla is just so…vanilla, there’s this big, wide ribbon of chocolate moving through the middle, and somewhere, I’m convinced there’s a bite that is unsullied by the lesser tastes, telling me that I can and I will finish, and I most likely won’t throw up on the rug, when I’m done. And on most days, days when all I can see are dish after dish of frozen tri-color nightmare stacked up in rank upon rank, with just one spoon and only me to eat them, that is enough. <br />
<br />
<br />
Mil besos,<br />
rmj<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-53077108394107763012013-04-05T16:52:00.001-05:002013-04-09T22:34:15.123-05:00force of nature: a portrait of a lady<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; border-collapse: collapse; border-spacing: 0px; color: black; width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr><td align="right" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="middle"></td><td align="left" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="bottom"><span id="hotword"><i><u><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">force</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">nature</span></span></u></i></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right" nowrap="nowrap" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="middle"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span id="hotword" name="hotword">Part</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">Speech:</span> </i></span></td><td align="left" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="bottom"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">n</span></i></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">Definition:</span> </i></span></td><td align="left" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span id="hotword" name="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">physics,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">one</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">four</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">fundamental</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">forces</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">that</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">occur</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">nature</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">and</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">affect</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span><span id="hotword" name="hotword">structure</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">universe,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">including</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">gravitation,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">electromagnetism,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">strong</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">force,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">and</span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">weak</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">force</span></i></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="right" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span id="hotword" name="hotword">Usage:</span> </i></span></td><td align="left" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: #333333;">science</span><br /></i></span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: #333333;">--dictionary.com</span></i></span></span></span></div>
<span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
</i></span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>When it’s over, I want to say: all my life<br />I was a bride married to amazement.<br />I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.</i></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>When it is over, I don’t want to wonder<br />if I have made of my life something particular, and real.<br />I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,<br />or full of argument.</i></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--mary oliver</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: black; line-height: normal;">We shall not cease from exploration</span><br style="clear: left; color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span style="color: black; line-height: normal;">And the end of all our exploring</span><br style="clear: left; color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span style="color: black; line-height: normal;">Will be to arrive where we started</span><br style="clear: left; color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span style="color: black; line-height: normal;">And know the place for the first time.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--ts eliot</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span class="text Prov-31-17" id="en-NRSV-17302" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">17 </sup>She girds herself with strength,</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-17" style="position: relative;">and makes her arms strong.</span></span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="text Prov-31-18" id="en-NRSV-17303" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">18 </sup>She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-18" style="position: relative;">Her lamp does not go out at night.</span></span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="text Prov-31-19" id="en-NRSV-17304" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">19 </sup>She puts her hands to the distaff,</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-19" style="position: relative;">and her hands hold the spindle.</span></span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="text Prov-31-20" id="en-NRSV-17305" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">20 </sup>She opens her hand to the poor,</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-20" style="position: relative;">and reaches out her hands to the needy.</span></span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="text Prov-31-21" id="en-NRSV-17306" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">21 </sup>She is not afraid for her household when it snows,</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-21" style="position: relative;">for all her household are clothed in crimson.</span></span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="text Prov-31-22" id="en-NRSV-17307" style="color: black; line-height: normal; position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">22 </sup>She makes herself coverings;</span><br style="color: black; line-height: normal;" /><span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-22" style="position: relative;">her clothing is fine linen and purple.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="text Prov-31-22" style="position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>...</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="text Prov-31-22" style="position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span class="text Prov-31-25" id="en-NRSV-17310" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">25 </sup>Strength and dignity are her clothing,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-25" style="position: relative;">and she laughs at the time to come.</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-26" id="en-NRSV-17311" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">26 </sup>She opens her mouth with wisdom,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-26" style="position: relative;">and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-27" id="en-NRSV-17312" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">27 </sup>She looks well to the ways of her household,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-27" style="position: relative;">and does not eat the bread of idleness.</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-28" id="en-NRSV-17313" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">28 </sup>Her children rise up and call her happy;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-28" style="position: relative;">her husband too, and he praises her:</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-29" id="en-NRSV-17314" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">29 </sup>“Many women have done excellently,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-29" style="position: relative;">but you surpass them all.”</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-30" id="en-NRSV-17315" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">30 </sup>Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-30" style="position: relative;">but a woman who fears the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is to be praised.</span></span><br /><span class="text Prov-31-31" id="en-NRSV-17316" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">31 </sup>Give her a share in the fruit of her hands,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-31" style="position: relative;">and let her works praise her in the city gates.</span></span></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1" style="color: black; line-height: normal;"><span class="text Prov-31-22" style="position: relative;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-31" style="position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--proverbs 31</i></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">it's hard to know how to write about her. she wasn't my mother or my grandmother, but she had a firm and honest hand in raising me, in helping to mold me into a woman. i'm not over-exaggerating when i say that the women in my family are known for being forces of nature unto themselves, and she was no exception. i can't remember a single time i saw her or had an update about her that she wasn't doing something active, wasn't involved in making something, wasn't relishing time with her family. she was a doer. she was relentless. she was never bored, and it was impossible to be bored when you were in her presence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">i wasn't the only little girl in my generation of cousins, but i was the one who lived closest to several of my great-aunts and uncles, and it was good to be a girl. when i was three, and went crazy over weddings and being a bride and conducting pretend marriage services for everyone in the family, aunt lu made me a little white dress, head piece, and flower. someone, probably my momma, took a picture of me in that dress, on my birthday, grinning wide enough that i'm surprised my head didn't split in half, standing just in front of my dad. the look on his face was priceless. and even though it's sentimental and probably a little stubborn (no shocker there), when it came time to buy the dress i would wear to wed my beloved, i just couldn't imagine buying a white dress...i'd already had one that was perfect, and i was sure that no white dress i ever tried on in the store would be as perfect as that one was. i wore that thing until it fell apart, wore the headpiece until it cracked beyond repair, carried that fabric flower until it had enough dirt on it to grow a whole garden. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">when i was five and totally underfoot all the time, putting on shows and telling crazy stories, and wanting to be everywhere the grownups were, she made me a red apron with a goose on it, just like the one she wore. i found it in my box of little kid things, a few months ago, and marveled at the detail she put into this little scrap of cloth, for a little scrap of girl. the tucks, the pleats, the way it laid just so when i tied it on...such love and care over such a little thing that made such a huge impression on me, even at such a tender age. i knew that apron meant i could be in the kitchen, and i knew the kitchen gave me access to magical smells, stories i'd never heard before, and lessons on how to peel things and stay out of the way. it also meant i got to help make bloody mary's, which were one of the hallmarks of Christmas at aunt lu's house. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">at around age seven or eight, i was absolutely delusional over "little house on the prairie". G-d knows how many episodes i've seen in my life, or how many times i've seen the reruns. obsession doesn't even begin to cover the depth of my devotion to that series. aunt lu made me this incredibly "little house dress", out of black calico. there was a petticoat, and bloomers, and...my favorite of all...a sun bonnet, made out of bright white cotton. the bonnet became a staple of just about every knock-around outfit i wore, and i loved to run as fast as i could, to make it trail out behind me. i guess i figured if i looked the part, and ran fast enough, i'd end up back in 1880, and might turn into laura ingalls wilder. i was so crazy about that outfit that i wore it to school, not ever thinking that it might garner unwanted attention from my classmates. it was exactly right, the fall of the skirt, the buttons, and that wonderful bonnet. it even scored me a spot in a fashion show, my only modeling venture to date. i wore it until i couldn't wear it anymore, but it's still in the dress up box. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">the mean girls came calling in late elementary, like they do. there was a huge flap over poodle skirts, and i was pretty sure if i didn't have one, i was going to die, or at least be a social outcast for the rest of my young life. well, of course aunt lu had a pattern for one, sandy and susie had had them, and aunt lu wore full skirts in the 50's and 60's with the best of them. and so, on my 12th birthday, this absolutely gorgeous blue poodle skirt, complete with rhinestones on the collar of the poodle, AND bobby socks, were presented to me. i was absolutely over the moon. i can't tell you what it was like to open that box, and see that poodle staring back up at me. it wasn't pink, like the mean girls had. it was blue. bright blue like a springtime sky, like the one over my head, today. that skirt made me feel special, not just because the meanies couldn't be mean about me not having one, anymore, but because at 12, i was finally starting to understand and appreciate my place in our family as an individual, not as Slana and Bill's daughter, or Callie and Bobby's granddaughter, but as my own self. aunt lu always, always, always made me feel like i was special, apart from who i belonged to, or what i did or didn't know how to do or be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">by the time i was in high school, i'd outgrown all my playclothes, and they had long since been packed away. but i still loved playing dress-up, and found myself school plays. aunt lu never missed a performance i invited her to. that goes for band contests, too. she showed up. she cheered. she loved. it's no secret that my senior year in high school was difficult, and much of my spare time was spent with my parents in San Angelo, or working on homework. the play gave me respite. i could be someone else for those hours of practice in the afternoons and evenings. that last year, i played a woman who was a lot like aunt lu, feisty and firey and always for good reason. i had my costume almost all worked out, but couldn't find a bag or gloves that were right for the time period in which the play was set. naturally, aunt lu had a bag, and gloves, AND a hanky that she lent me. and of course, they were perfect. putting those gloves on, prissing around with that handbag, and waving this gorgeous hanky let me jump into my character's skin. and knowing they were from aunt lu, that those gloves had hugged her hands, that bag had held her things, that hanky had dried eyes and blown noses...that helped me relax and not think so much, and not be afraid i was going to get out in the lights and forget everything i'd ever learned in my whole life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">the clothes she put on my back, on all our backs, in our lifetimes with her, made me warm, made me know how much she loved me, made me understand my place in our family that much better. she had a knack for telling stories, for laughing at herself and the world, of being incredibly creative and kind that is hard to look at dead-on, without raising a lump in my throat. what she gave and did, she did freely. what she said and though, she said and though freely. you never had to wonder what she thought, or where you stood in her book. she was an incredibly woman, an independent woman long before that was something women thought about being. whether she was putting finishing touches on a meal or a garment, she was focused and determined, and we all shared in the riches from her table and hands. i'm grateful every day for the time i spent with her, for the stories she told me about our family, for the drive to provide for her family, to do amazing things with short supplies, and for the way she loved. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">the women in our family are incredibly strong, devoted, resourceful, and kind, and aunt lu was and will always be one of the legends in our family lore. she had beautiful, strong hands, and there was always room at her table,an open bed in her home, and a heart that loved her friends and family in life-changing and life-giving ways. she was a wonder and a blessing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">rmgj</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-64273510516466039352013-02-11T13:02:00.001-06:002013-02-11T13:04:14.189-06:00mixtapes from babylon, vol...10 or 11, i think...<br />
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">bro</span><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">·</span><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">ken</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
(br</span><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Minion New","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">ō</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">k</span><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Minion New","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">ə</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">n)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Share: <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7999269" name="fb_share"></a><a href="http://ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=broken#B5510300"><span style="color: windowtext; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">bro</span><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">·</span><span style="color: windowtext; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">ken</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">v.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Past
participle of </span><a href="http://ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?id=B5478000"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">break</span></a><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">adj.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">1.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Forcibly separated
into two or more pieces; fractured: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken arm; broken glass.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">2.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sundered by </span><a href="http://ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=brokenness&submit.x=29&submit.y=19" title="Click to Continue > by Browse to Save"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">divorce</span></a><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, separation, or
desertion of a parent or parents: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">children from broken homes; a
broken marriage.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">3.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Having been violated: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken promise.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">4.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">a.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Incomplete: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken set of books.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">b.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Being in a state of
disarray; disordered: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">troops fleeing in broken ranks.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">5.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">a.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Intermittently
stopping and starting; discontinuous: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken cable transmission.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">b.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Varying abruptly, as
in pitch: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">broken sobs.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">c.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Spoken with gaps and
errors: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">broken English.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">6.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Topographically
rough; uneven: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">broken terrain.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">7.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">a.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Subdued totally;
humbled: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken spirit.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">b.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Weakened and infirm: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">broken health.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">8.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Crushed by grief: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">died of a broken heart.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">9.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Financially ruined;
bankrupt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">10.</span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not
functioning; out of order: <span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">a broken</span> </span><a href="http://ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=brokenness&submit.x=29&submit.y=19" title="Click to Continue > by Browse to Save"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">washing
machine</span></a><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">--American Heritage Dictionary<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Ring
the bells that still can ring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Forget
your perfect offering.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">There
is a crack in everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">That’s
how the light gets in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">--Leonard Cohen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
never saw a wild thing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">sorry
for itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">without
ever having felt sorry for itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">--DH Lawrence<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Word became flesh to communicate to us
human beings caught in the mud, the pain, the fears and the brokenness of
existence, the life, the joy, the communion, the ecstatic gift of love that is
the source of all love and life and unity in our universe and that is the very
life of God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">--Jean Vanier<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">What
I can tell you for sure about living in Babylon is that getting right with
brokenness (my own and the world around me) was and is what could be
categorized as “a major undertaking”. I don’t deal with brokenness, especially
my own, very well, at all. Other
people’s brokenness or the way society is broken—those just make me
uncomfortable, like the way a tension headache sets into your back teeth, and
slowly heats up the back of your head and neck-- just achey enough to not be
able to concentrate, but not achey enough to stop what you’re doing and take an
Advil. I’m realistic enough, on most
days, to deal with the fact that brokenness, as a construct, exists. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">When
I say “getting right with brokenness” I’m not just talking about those odd days
when brokenness rears a very obvious head, all wobbly and woozy and wonky in
the middle of my regularly scheduled Tuesday.
I’m talking about the brokenness that lives at the bottom of all of us,
the gaps that gape over chasms, the way we have such a hard time being kind to
each other, and how sometimes, for no good reason, people are broken in ways
that cannot be transcended in this life.
I’m talking about 24/7 broken. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">It’s
miserable. It’s life-changing. Once I engaged it, nothing was ever the
same. See, I think sometimes we forget
that part of being a real person, with his or her shit together doesn’t mean
that we only get to feel one thing at a time.
We imagine the divided lunch room tray of adult life, where the fun
parts don’t touch the sad parts don’t touch the romantic parts don’t touch the
political parts don’t touch the religious parts don’t touch the delayed or
impaired or physically or mentally impaired parts. And everything, whether it’s sad or happy, is
tied up in 30 minutes, with only four two-minute commercial interruptions. That’s the format. That’s the way be believe we do business,
because that makes us feel safe and kind of superior. Because when our broken edges rub up against
the veneer of polite or politically correct or post-modern society, things have
a way of bleeding in a rather unsightly manner.
And we hate seeing things that are unsightly, or hearing a cry that can’t be soothed, or knowing that
some things just stay broken. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Which
brings me to Theodore. God…Theodore. Poor Ted.
I mean it. Poor Ted. He was just “with it” enough to know he
wasn’t “with it” enough to really be independent and live on his own. Ted’s momma was older than Enoch, and
probably had Jesus in Vacation Bible School, and I think was just too tired to die,
when it came right down to it. I imagine
it had just been Ted and Momma for a long time, because I knew they hadn’t
driven themselves to church in…decades.
Same for the grocery store. Ted’s
momma fought to keep that much independence for her youngest son, and managed
to do it at a time in history that wasn’t particularly kind to children and
families with the kind of differences Theodore exhibited. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I
don’t imagine growing up in that house was much fun for Ted’s brother. I don’t know how much fun it was for Ted,
either. I hope it wasn’t just
awful. I don’t know many details about
the early chapters of Ted’s story, or the middle, really either. I sort of inherited Ted and his momma through
my job. For much of my tenure, all I did
was check in on them, every week or so.
They handled their own transportation, and shopping, and doctors’
visits. All I had to do was wonder what
was in the rolling suitcase Ted carried with him EVERYWHERE, and whether or not
his mother would ever part with her old-school Czech kolache recipe, which I
knew had to be good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">And
then one day, his momma went to the hospital, and Theodore was left at home,
all alone. He’d been on his own for a
day or two, here and there, but this time, Momma wasn’t going to be able to
come home. And despite everything I
tried—down to bribing him, Theodore refused to even consider moving from his
home into a group home, or retirement center, or even the place his mom was
living. RE-FUSED. I’m talking
heels-dug-in-over-my-dead-body-this-is-a-closed-subject refused. Whether I agreed with his choice or not, I
had to admire his desire for independence, his desire to organize his day and
his space independently, for the first time in his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I
know Ted missed his mother terribly, even as he relished his version of a
swinging bachelor life. We went to see
her on Sundays, and he would take her a donut from coffee hour, and the Czech-language
newspaper she still had delivered to the house.
And we’d all have communion together.
Then, I’d drop Ted back home, and back out of the driveway, silently
praying that this wouldn’t be the week he’d decide to try and boil eggs on his
own, on the gas range, and blow up half of the neighborhood and parts of the
interstate. Ted, among all the
interesting things he could do that would surprise you, did not see well, at
all. I mean, Mr. Magoo aced his vision
test, comparatively. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Ted
understood and used the entire bus and handicapped accessible taxi system all
over town. He could navigate them like a
pro. And he would stand there, asking
questions of drivers, ticket vendors, station managers, what-have-you, until he
understood where he was, and what he needed to do to get to his next
destination. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">He
loved figuring out how things worked, and as a result, took apart several
medium-end men’s electric razors, trying to clean them. He understood how to do this, understood how
the mechanisms worked, but couldn’t see well enough to put them back together
without breaking these really irritatingly small and oddly fragile little
plastic filaments. And Ted was not
interested in waiting for me to clean them, when I brought him his groceries
once a week. So we went through three of
them in six months. Three. I could almost have charted out when he was
going to break one. And even though I
knew he couldn’t help it—not that he was on the bad side of blind, or that the
pieces were really small and tricky, or that he loved to tinker—it still drove
me ape-shit every time I had to go buy a new razor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">During
a time in my life when I was solely shopping at the grocery store for cat food
and litter, cans of soup, toilet paper, bagged spinach, and shampoo, I agreed
to go to the grocery store once a week for Theodore. And truth be told, it probably saved both our
lives. There was a stretch of weeks that
the only things that kept me sane were ritualistically grocery shopping for Theodore,
and cleaning out the cat box. Theodore
only got Meals on Wheels during the week—he was on his own during the weekends,
and Meals only delivered two a day. (The
cat…well…you know cats—if I had just died from being worn out and sad, Jinx
would have waited maybe two days to eat my eyeballs, depending on how much food
was in his bowl.) This was something I could do, I could help. I could make someone feel better at a time
when I had no idea how to do that for myself.
Because I’d gotten to that point in life where I had realized that some
things, no matter how much therapy to you’ve had, or how realistically you’re
looking at a situation, hurt us down to our bones, and it takes us a little
while to get back up. And that is just
life. And it happens no matter how much
you love Jesus. Loving Jesus just helps
you make a way to get up. I had also
realized that sometimes, the best thing you can say about what you’ve
accomplished in a day is that you didn’t lose any ground. Being with Theodore taught me those things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Shopping
for Ted was easy—it was pretty much the same thing, every single week. The only variances would be choices for
breakfasts, or a different lunch meat, or cookie option. Sometimes, he would need toilet paper, or
shower soap, or would want ice cream.
During one month, he asked me to buy dishwashing soap three times. I finally asked him why he was going through
so much soap—hoping he wasn’t developing some kind of hand-washing thing. Come to find out, when we were putting his
groceries away, I’d put it too far back in the sink cabinet, and he couldn’t
see it. …so he had three huge bottles of
Orange Ajax lurking under the sink. We
moved the soap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">The
putting away part of the grocery shopping mostly made me want to have a drink. Ted
was a close-stander. He would stand in
your armpit, if you let him, occasionally whacking you in the knees with his
giant roller bag, which he sometimes had to be reminded not to bring into the
kitchen (…because we’re just unloading groceries, Ted. You won’t need those missile launch codes, or
anything else in that overhead-compartment sized-suitcase, any time soon,
buddy...). I think part of that is
because of his visual impairment. I also
think part of it is just Ted…there is something about him that is odd, and has
nothing to do with his visual impairment.
After about ten minutes with Ted, you’d know he was not like anyone else
you knew, and that his physical and psychological differences really weren’t
what made him different. But that’s just
my opinion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">What
I can guess is that Ted would probably have been an odd little bird, even if
he’d hadn’t been visually and cognitively impaired…some folks are just
different, all the way down. But because Ted is impaired, it’s impossible to ignore his brokenness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Ted
was also deeply paranoid. He would worry
a lot that people had been listening in on his phone conversations. Sometimes, when he’d call the office, he’d
almost be speaking in code, in these very veiled references to conversations
we’d had about his grocery list or the next time we would be going to see his
mother. Ted was constantly reporting to
me that things disappeared and reappeared, and he had no idea who or what was
happening. He also had periodic focal
point and grande mal seizures, which were only kind-of –sort of-not -really-well-controlled
with medicine. All those things would
run through my mind when I was finally ready to get into my car and go home,
every week. But I could only do my
little part, I couldn’t fix the vast majority of things that were broken in
this scenario. I could just do my little
part to make the mess less bad, or at least not to contribute to it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">I
could kind of tell when he’d maybe had a seizure, or when he might be about to
have one, but I was mostly just guessing.
I’d try to convince him to sleep at night (because there was that three
week period when he convinced himself that he could speed up his metabolism, if
he kept moving all the time), or not to work on his projects so late. Or to sleep on the bed, instead of the
sleeping bag next to his perfectly good bed.
I’d ask him if he was eating. I’d
ask him if he had any doctors’ appointments he needed help getting to. I bandaged his head when he fell, trying to
put up a book case out of brackets and boards that had collapsed. There was blood everywhere, and I was worried
he’d poked one of his eyes out. He kept
insisting he was fine, that he was just distracted, that he thought the bracket
was right by his hand, but it had disappeared, and then everything came crashing
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Being
with Theodore, trying to help him live on his own terms, was sometimes so
frustrating I would cry from the minute I left his house, until I arrived back
at my own. I wasn’t angry with Theodore,
ever. Not really. Most of the frustrations I had were about the
ways he was broken, about how that brokenness made <i>me</i> feel, about how confronted <i>I
</i>felt, about how sad <i>I </i>was that I
had no idea how to help Theodore plan and execute any kind of long-term
independence. Every call I made to his family was a dead end. Every call I made to social workers put me in
a message queue, and I’m still waiting for a couple of returned calls. There was no way for me to save Theodore. I was having a hard enough time managing to
keep myself independent, so becoming a conservator or guardian wasn’t something
I was even remotely equipped to handle…but I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Those
last months at that job were brutal. And
at the same time, they were some of the most important months in my adult life,
and I knew something really important was happening inside me. Some days, it
felt like everything around me was broken.
There were no soft places. There
were precious few safe places. There
were car rides from all manner of places, back to my little house, where I
would run a bath and cry for hours, because everything was broken. And buying groceries for Ted, and unloading
them and explaining them to him in that abysmally small and claustrophobic
kitchen both seared and soothed my tender spots. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">On
the one hand, I was engaged in an activity (buying Ted’s groceries) that was
never, ever going to end, unless I ended it.
Ted would have lost at least half a day in a grocery store, and likely
suffered physical and verbal abuse in the cereal aisle, not to mention what
might have happened in the freezer case.
Every label, every coupon option, every bit of information on every box
and bag he purchased would need to be read and understood before it went in the
buggy. I know this because I took him to
the market with me once. I can’t say
much about that trip, but I will say these things: 1) I never took him to the market with
me, again. 2) I totally understand why
parents beat their kids in grocery stores.
3) I didn’t yell at Ted. This
took a lot of doing. On the other hand,
the act of buying essentially the same items every week, unloading them in the
same fashion, issuing instructions for when to throw things away and when to
put them on the grocery list for next time became a kind of liturgy for me. It became an offering not just to Theodore,
but to God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">When
we see people who are broken on the outside, broken in un-ignorable and
unmistakable ways, we are sometimes confronted with the inner brokenness in
ourselves. Some of what is broken on my
insides (and probably yours, as well) has been caused by interactions with
people who have been less than careful with me and my little self. But there are other jagged edges, hidden
faults and knicks that just come with being human, come from living a life that
is full and active, come because everything in this world is broken and
dying. That is something that I must
intellectually accept as a tenet of faith, stemming from my understanding of
the allegory of the Fall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">We
break things all the time—each other, the planet, the church, homes,
relationships, you name it. And this is
why we can’t have nice things, people. We
are so twitchy, sitting next to brokenness, watching it be awkward and lost and
other. And if we touch the different, it
might get on us, or make us sad or remind us that we really are all in this
together. It might bruise our shins with
its giant fifty pound rolling suitcase, or breathe all over us while we put the
Oreos in the stay-fresh container in the fridge, and it might take up every
inch of the front seat of the car as it fumbles around for the seatbelt clip. Sometimes, the different keeps us up at
night, and we spend sleepless hours trying to figure out how to see it from
another angle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Ted
had to deal with my brokenness, too. I
couldn’t always come at the same time, every week. Sometimes, I wasn’t able to take him to his
mother’s assisted living facility. There were also days when he’d ask for a
specific item that I couldn’t find in the regular grocery or big box store, and
I’d have to explain to him that I couldn’t find something. When he asked me to help him figure out how
to make his handwriting better, so he could start sending Morse Code messages,
I was unable to be of much service. But
what I could do was buy his groceries for him, once a week. I could also teach him how to peel boiled
eggs, after they ‘d cooled down (and after I’d made sure they were boiled, and
the gas was turned off). One time, he
asked me if it would be ok for him to buy some new underwear and pants, and
showed me a couple of pair that were mostly holes, and I said that yes, I
thought that would be fine. He said he
had a bunch of clothes money, but because he couldn’t see well, he didn’t know
if he needed anything new. And that was
one of the days I cried in the driveway.
Because there were things that he had never had to do for himself, and
that I never anticipated he’d need to have explained. There were so many ways in which my
brokenness was something Theodore had to deal with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Going
to the grocery gradually became this thing I loved to do. I mean, the list making was total hell,
because it would necessitate at least four phone calls between me and Ted, and
BOY…he was not good on the phone. And he
would try to read his list to me, but wouldn’t be able to see well in the
hallway where the phone was, or he wouldn’t be able to find his list, or he
could only find the lists from two months ago, or he didn’t think he would need
milk until the middle of the week, but that would be between visits, or he
might need batteries but would need me to double check the sizes on his (insert
only partially-working electronic gadget here:
see also: tinkering with shit) before I went to the store. That list, as I have previously mentioned,
ALMOST NEVER VARIED. Like ever. Except that I refused to buy him prune juice
and Fiber One Bars on the same bill of groceries. We had to have a very candid conversation
about constipation, and I made Ted promise me that he’d never have a prune
juice cocktail with a fiber bar chaser.
I told him there was not enough toilet paper in the world to deal with
that issue, and he even laughed a little bit.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">If
I had stayed where I was, I probably would still be doing the grocery run for Ted,
once a week. I couldn’t and can’t do
anything to fix any of Ted’s brokenness, and he couldn’t and can’t fix mine. But for a chunk of time, I like to think we didn’t
further any breakages. I can’t fix his
eyes, or his mind. Ted couldn’t fix the
brokenness at my office, or the sadness I felt at leaving a life I’d spent years
building. But I could buy his groceries,
and he could help me put them away. An
exchange like that—kindness and cooperation—goes a long way to roughing down
some of those jagged places. I’m not
saying that Ted was broken for my benefit, that somehow his otherness were some
kind of boon to me. And I’m not saying
that my brokenness was for Ted’s benefit, either. What I am saying is that we were broken in
corresponding ways—ways that for a season in our lives intersected in a
powerful way, that our brokenness fit together, and made a whole space. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">That’s
amazing to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face, serif; font-size: x-small;">mil besos,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face, serif; font-size: x-small;">rmj</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-73252459452590094722012-12-18T11:24:00.004-06:002012-12-18T14:12:40.282-06:00our brother's keeper<br />
<div style="background-color: white; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="text Gen-4-2"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...when they grew up, Abel became a shepherd, while Cain cultivated the ground.</span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> w<span class="text Gen-4-3" id="en-NLT-83">hen it was time for the harvest, Cain presented some of his crops as a gift to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span> <span class="text Gen-4-4" id="en-NLT-84"><sup class="versenum" style="vertical-align: top;"> </sup>Abel also brought a gift—the best of the firstborn lambs from his flock. the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> accepted Abel and his gift,</span> <span class="text Gen-4-5" id="en-NLT-85">but he did not accept Cain and his gift. this made Cain very angry, and he looked dejected.</span></span></span></i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NLT-86">“why are you so angry?” the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> asked Cain. “why do you look so dejected?</span> y<span class="text Gen-4-7" id="en-NLT-87">ou will be accepted if you do what is right. but if you refuse to do what is right, then watch out! sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. but you must subdue it and be its master.”</span></span></i></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-8" id="en-NLT-88"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">one day Cain suggested to his brother, “let’s go out into the fields.” and while they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother, Abel, and killed him.</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-9" id="en-NLT-89"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><sup class="versenum" style="vertical-align: top;"> a</sup>fterward the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> asked Cain, “where is your brother? where is Abel?”</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-9"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“i don’t know,” Cain responded. “am I my brother’s keeper?”</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10" id="en-NLT-90"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">but the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said, “what have you done? listen! your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground! </span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--Genesis 4:2-10</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“for if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2798280-libellus-vere-aureus-nec-minus-salutaris-quam-festivus-de-optimo-rei-p#" id="_GPLITA_3" in_rurl="http://i.trkjmp.com/click?v=VVM6Mjk3NzM6MTg6ZWR1Y2F0aW9uOjEyOTY4YWY5ZTcwZTNjMGUxYjZjN2M3MTk5NmM4NmM2OnotMTE4OC0xNTIyOTp3d3cuZ29vZHJlYWRzLmNvbToyNTk2NTphYzA2YWM0N2Y3Yjg0NjgxNmEwMzIxYTJkODY1OWViMg" style="color: #666600; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" title="Click to Continue > by Browse to Save">education</a><span style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"> disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves and then punish them.” </span><br style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">― t</span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3063220.Thomas_More" style="color: #666600; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-decoration: initial;">homas more</a></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2798280" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: initial;">Utopia</a></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">"even if the whole world were to fall to pieces, the unity of the psyche would never be shattered.</span><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;"> and the wider and more numerous the fissures on the surface, the more the unity is strengthened in the depths.</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--carl jung</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">Civilization in Transition</span><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">(1964)</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="text Gen-4-10"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span>
in my professional life, i spend a lot of time with little people and their parents. the vast majority of the people i see and interact with during the span of a working week are between 3 and 11 years old. while i can't pretend to know or understand the depth of grief being felt by the Sandy Hook families, or the Lanza family, i know enough to be humbled by the relief that comes from knowing all my little faces are safe, today.<br />
<br />
this is an altogether different kind of thing...i'm not even sure what kind of word to assign to Friday's event in Connecticut. all i know is that it's awful, and ugly, and scary. and no matter how far we follow whatever rabbit holes are left to us, i cannot imagine that anything we learn will make us feel any better. i know that we must follow those trails, however slight or strange they may be, because even though it won't make us feel better, i hope like hell we can at least learn something.<br />
<br />
and i also know this is not the first time i've had to figure out an artful, non-scary way to address a very adult and scary topic with small people, and find some kind of meaningful ways to comfort and reassure their parents. and i am sick of this shit, people. just sick of it. we do not have to live like this. we don't. and most of us, on a day-in-day-out, where we live and move and have our being--we DON'T live like this. <br />
<br />
but then there are random Fridays, and you imagine that all you have to do is buy your first Christmas tree, and pack the car, and wrap a present for your oldest nephew, and you'll just listen to NPR on the way to get the nail taken out of the back tire of your husband's vehicle, and you realize in a powerful way that we DO live like this...<br />
<br />
the thing that happens after one of these events (and G-d, how awful is it that there's a pattern to follow...seriously?) started happening before anyone even really had an idea of what had really happened. "news" and "facts" become sort of fluid and floaty, and the thing you know for most certain is that some awful and terrible is happening, but nothing beyond that can be confirmed. and then some of the smoke starts to clear, and some solid actual information becomes known. and then, some jerks with microphones start talking and prognosticating and pontificating, and everything that's really worth talking about is blotted out with station logos, commercial breaks, and retired specialists who can give you every scenario you need to have nightmares for days, without actually giving you any legitimate and accurate information. and you know some douchebag is going to say it's because we don't allow G-d in schools, or because we don't have kindergarten teachers who pack heat...<br />
<br />
***this is the part where i get up on my soap box, so if you're not up for that, go right back to facebook, and have a nice day.***<br />
<br />
here's what i have to say to douchebags who blame this on "not allowing G-d in schools"--and i'm looking right at you, former Governor Mike Huckabee. this statement is reductive to the point of being blasphemous, and people who espouse it should be deeply and profoundly ashamed to have such a small and faithless witness for G-d in the world. shame on you. G-d, or at least the G-d i know doesn't work that way. <br />
<br />
i'd be so excited to get to have a cup of coffee with you, and tell you about how big my G-d is, how much my G-d loves, how sad my G-d is about this, and how i know that had G-d not been present in that school (and bidden or not, G-d IS present)...well, we are very lucky that G-d was there. additionally, stop saying things that aren't true about the separation of church and state. again, this is highly reductive, and not helpful, and NOT true. what is true is that we're not all baptists, or methodists, or christians, or jews, or hindus, or jains, or buddhists, or zoroastrians, or neo-druids, or believers of any stripe. but none of those identifiers mean that G-d loves us any less, or is any less present or active in our lives and world. and while i am angry with you, more than anger, i feel great pity toward you. i hope that you don't feel as alone and scared and unsure as you sound. i'm totally seriously about that cup of coffee... <br />
<br />
to the douchebags who say that teachers should pack heat, i have to say this: Are you freaking kidding me? Rick Perry and others--get your heads out of your asses. that opinion is not limited to Rick Perry, not by a long shot. i've seen it around my own little universe, and it makes me sick and sad. this is NOT about guns. JESUS. i mean, yeah, we need to talk about guns. but if you're dumb enough to believe that adding more guns to the equation is going to make things better, that's the biggest reason you're not fit to lead the country. one more gun, or one more person with a concealed carry license isn't going to reduce gun violence, even in extreme cases. it's just one more gun on the streets. <br />
<br />
you wanna know the real reason we want to hurt each other? it's as old as our oldest stories...we are jealous, we are broken, we hurt. and in our jealousy, our brokenness, our hurt, we grab the heavy or hard thing closest to us, and whale away, until we see red, until the noise stops, until the magazine runs out or the cops come, and then...well, by then it's all over but the crying. and that is far too late. all the guns, violent games and movies, objectification of relationships, bigotry, hate, all of it...all of it boils down to our hurt and brokenness coming out in blazing and startling technicolor. it's been millenia since we first heard the story of cain and abel...why can't we do better? why are we still fumbling around in the dark, looking for ways to hide the blood, clean up the mess, cover up the lies and the wounds, instead of making things right? <br />
<br />
there will be people who will claim that nothing meaningful can be done, who will "yeah, but" in the face of every articulated solution, who will demand that things must change, but will not be willing to be the ones to do the changing. and it will be hard to love them. but we have to. we have to love them, and keep in contact and conversation with them, even when we want to run away or call them dumbs. they feel the same way, right back at us. but we are all in this together. we have to remember that. we have to keep and hold and love each other. we are our brother's keeper, and they are ours, too. <br />
<br />
mil besos,<br />
rmj</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-82058295817101779082012-11-27T14:09:00.004-06:002012-11-27T15:57:15.398-06:00...for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory...<br />
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<i>the dolly zoom is an unsettling in-camera effect that appears to undermine normal visual perception. it is part of many cinematic techniques used in filmmaking and television production.</i></div>
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<i>the effect is achieved by using the setting of a zoom lens to adjust the angle of view (often referred to as field of view or FOV) while the camera dollies (or moves) towards or away from the subject in such a way as to keep the subject the same size in the frame throughout. In its classic form, the camera angle is pulled away from a subject while the lens zooms in, or vice-versa. thus, during the zoom, there is a continuous perspective distortion, the most directly noticeable feature being that the background appears to change size relative to the subject.</i></div>
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<i>as the human visual system uses both size and perspective cues to judge the relative sizes of objects, seeing a perspective change without a size change is a highly unsettling effect, and the emotional impact of this effect is greater than the description above can suggest. the visual appearance for the viewer is that either the background suddenly grows in size and detail and overwhelms the foreground, or the foreground becomes immense and dominates its previous setting, depending on which way the dolly zoom is executed.</i></div>
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<i>--wikipedia, the free encyclopedia</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<table border="0" cellspacing="5" style="background-color: #e5eff4; border-collapse: collapse; border-spacing: 0px; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New', times, clean, serif; font-size: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline; width: 100%px;"><tbody style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<tr style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><td style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7999269" name="T5238400" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></a></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7999269" name="T5238400" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">time</span></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></i></a></span></div>
<div class="pseg" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div class="ds-list" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 1cm; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>1.</i></span></span><br />
<div class="sds-list" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 1cm; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a. a</span></span> nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.</i></span></div>
<div class="sds-list" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 1cm; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">b. a</span></span>n interval separating two points on this continuum; a duration:<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New Italic', Bookman, 'URW Bookman L', 'Palatino Linotype', serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a long time since the last war; passed the time reading.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">c. a</span></span> number, as of years, days, or minutes, representing such an interval:<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New Italic', Bookman, 'URW Bookman L', 'Palatino Linotype', serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">ran the course in a time just under four minutes.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">d. a</span></span> similar number representing a specific point on this continuum, reckoned in hours and minutes:<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New Italic', Bookman, 'URW Bookman L', 'Palatino Linotype', serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">checked her watch and recorded the time, 6:17 <span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">AM</span>.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">e. a</span></span> system by which such intervals are measured or such numbers are reckoned:<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></i><span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New Italic', Bookman, 'URW Bookman L', 'Palatino Linotype', serif; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">solar time</i><i style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; font-family: 'Minion New Italic', Bookman, 'URW Bookman L', 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-style: normal; margin: 0px; outline: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">.</i></span></span></div>
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<i>--american heritage dictionary</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i>"... thanksgiving is more than eating, chuck. you heard what linus was saying out there. those early Pilgrims were thankful for what had happened to them, and we should be thankful, too. </i></span><br />
<i style="text-align: left;">we should just be thankful for being together. </i><br />
<i style="text-align: left;">i</i><i style="text-align: left;"> think that's what they mean by 'thanksgiving,' charlie brown."</i></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i>--charles schultz</i></span><br />
<span style="text-align: left;"><i>a charlie brown thanksgiving</i></span><br />
<span style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></span>
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so, i'm standing there in this little chapel and looking at this incredible creature G-d said i should marry and spend my life with, and i all i could think was, "ohmygoodnessthisisreallyhappeningNOWNOWNOW". time seemed to compress and elongate, all at the same time. an intense and sharp focus fired it's way into my brain, and seemed to brighten the colors in the room, and as i made myself take deep breaths and willed my knees not to shake, that familiar and awe-inspiring tunnel vision and magnetic hum of Mystery seemed to gin up inside and around me, and i was able to kind of pull myself together. i knew there were words i needed to say, knew there were words i was supposed to hear and to respond to appropriately. all i wanted to do was not let go of his hands or stop looking at his face. </div>
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we were talking about what it would feel like to finally be married, last week. we wondered what, if anything, might be different. he said he was going to stop holding in his farts. i figured i'd probably actually cry over stupid commercials in front of him, instead of crying in the bathroom, or pretending like i was feeling my allergies. G-d...were we wrong. I mean, he really did stop holding in his farts, and I openly wept at a couple of really cheesy things. but there is something...well, kind of big... to be said for the ontological change, for the profound grace imparted in that sacramental moment we shared between ourselves, with our families, and G-d, on last thursday. </div>
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i didn't think it was possible to love him more, to feel more married to him, to have everything good and lovely about him seem so much...much-ier. but...my G-d...it's the difference between the giant hole your nephew dug in the backyard and the Grand Canyon: one leaves you reaching for the bottle of scotch, and the other leaves you with the deep knowledge that you should definitely be drinking more champagne. </div>
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loving him, from the very minute i realized that i did, has both shaken and steadied me, all the way to to very deepest core of myself. he has maintained all along that we have our own time zone, and...as with so many other things...(and i'm sure this is not the last time this will happen)...</div>
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i have to say that my husband is absolutely right. </div>
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mil besos,</div>
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rmj</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-80937079658125507032012-10-22T16:52:00.004-05:002012-10-22T18:58:14.007-05:00rearview<div style="text-align: right;">
<b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. </span></b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--anias nin</span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>he who does not see the whole world in his friends, does not deserve </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>that the world should hear of him.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>--goethe</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>the new is older than the old;</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">and newest friend is oldest friend in this:</span></span></div>
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that, waiting him, we longest grieved to miss</div>
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one thing we sought. </div>
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--helen hunt jackson</div>
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the older i get, the more i realize how rare it is for people to maintain close friendships with people they've known since they were little. i have close friendships with like...seven people i grew up with. those roots go deep. we're not just twice-a-year friends. we talk regularly. we know what nights not to call, who's got the day off, which way the wind is blowing in their corner of the world. we have a weird short hand, and know ridiculous stories that happened WAY before college, WAY before hormones, WAY before crow's feet, or spouses, or when some of us still had two parents. </div>
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this weekend, i got to watch one of my oldest and best friends be married to her beloved, by another of our oldest and best friends, with other old friends in attendance. it was a day we had imagined as little girls, with barbies and kens and big poofy dresses, raiding her mom's old barbie collection for the perfect accessory, or at my grandmother's house, in the playroom, trying on old dresses and making veils out of old half-slips. like so many things we imagine as little people, the reality far outstripped everything we were even kind of able to imagine about what weddings would REALLY look like. but it is unaccountably sweet to think of those two little girls playing dolls, and dreaming about being brides. we hear the voices of those little girls we were in our discussions about becoming wives, and i am constantly reminded of what a luxury that is. i am profoundly grateful. </div>
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my best best friend in the whole wide world was on the officiating end of the wedding. he was married to the bride when we were in kindergarten, so the whole thing had a really nice bit of symmetry to it. i was also so proud and excited to introduce my beloved and my bestest friend to each other, to be able to say to each of them, "this is one of the coolest people you'll ever meet, and i want you to be friends", to have them start to know each other. they are two of the most important people in my life, two of my favorite men of all time, and it was fun to watch them navigate their first meeting. they played well together. listening to them, and talking with them, i was reminded of the things i love best about each of them, and was so awash with gooey girly feelings and the best possible sense of nostalgia, and wonderment about what's coming next. </div>
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this man that i'm marrying is incredible. just when i think i have a handle on how much i love him, on what i think must certainly be the deepest depth of my feeling and understanding of what it means to love and be loved by him, i have to run to the bathroom and cry a little bit, because i realize this really is just the beginning, and we are on such an adventure...one for the ages. i know that in a very real sense, one day, years from now, i will look back at my thirty-four year old self with the same fondness and slight head-shake at her innocent musings( about married life and being a wife and wearing that amazing wedding dress and starting a whole new chapter with this glorious creature G-d made just for me) in much the way i have looked at my little-girl self in the rearview mirror of my mind, all weekend. </div>
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it's an amazing thing to learn than you are happier than you ever, ever, ever imagined you could be, over things and people and circumstances you never could have imagined, much less have had the sense to hope or pray for. </div>
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to see your wildest dreams, your most far-fetched musings come into bloom in blazing technicolor, banishes thoughts of sleep or work or tomorrow, and demands you to be fully present, to wipe your eyes, and square your shoulders, and stare straight at the camera and smile, because this is now, and we can do anything. </div>
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mil besos,</div>
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rmg</div>
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</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-20198496910759833542012-09-18T15:29:00.003-05:002012-09-18T15:33:03.961-05:00learning curve<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the godly union of souls in mutual forebearance with each other's infirmities, </span></i></b></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">and mutual stimulating each </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">other's graces--this surely is a fragment of true happiness </span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">that </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">has survived the Fall. --charles bridges</span></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">marge: homer, is this the way you pictured married life?</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">homer: yup, pretty much. except we drove around in a van solving mysteries. --the simpsons</span></i></b></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: left;">with this ring I thee wed, with my body i thee worship, and with all my worldly goods i thee endow.</span>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">--the book of common prayer, 1928</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; text-align: left;"><b><i>what woman, however old, has not the bridal-favours and raiment stowed away, and packed in lavender, </i></b></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: sans-serif; text-align: left;">in the inmost cupboards of her heart?</span>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; text-align: left;"><b><i>--william makepeace thackary</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so, i'm buying a wedding dress this weekend. and ordering his ring. and picking out a cake. every time i think about that, i have to suppress this ridiculous giggle and squirmy feeling that starts in my toes and runs all the way up to the roots of my hair. i have these intense moments of emotion, where i tear up for no reason, or smile or laugh, or can't sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">honestly, until about two, two-and-a-half years ago, i was convinced i would never, ever get married. mostly i was sure of that because i was sure there was something really wrong with me, something missing, or not good enough, or bright and shiny and pretty or smart enough to be a good partner. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> i had people i really loved and cared about and spent a ton of time would go on for hours about how being married conveys a sense of maturity and adulthood one cannot obtain outside of the marriage relationship. and i simultaneously agreed and rejected that idea, because i was convinced that i was never actually going to fall in love or get married, and was going to be stuck in some kind of infant-adult hybrid life. forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at some point, and i could almost tell you the date, i stopped worrying about who was going to ever fall in love with me, and decided i deserved to fall in love with myself, as much as i was able. and once i started down that trail, it didn't so much matter to me if anyone ever wanted to love or marry me, as long as i was loving myself and my life in the best ways i knew how. i laid down on the floor of my bedroom, and surrendered myself...to Jesus, to the Universe, and to my deepest self. and i tried to be kind and good, and treat myself the way i treated the people i loved in my life. i stopped yelling at that face in the mirror, and crying over her in the shower. i stopped thinking mean things about myself, stopped putting myself in no-win situations (as much as i was able), and really, really tried to know myself in new ways, all the way down to my toes and back up, again. i tried to see myself as a real person, just like everyone else, with all the same chances and challenges as everyone else i know. and once i did that, i could have really cared less if i got married, ever. because my completeness wasn't attached to anything outside myself. and that was a pretty amazing day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and then, on this funny little sunday in may, i realized i was hopelessly, irrevocably, and magically in love with this incredible man. he walked off my porch, and toward the parking lot, and i walked back inside my apartment, and like some strange and silent earthquake/tsunami/catergory 5 hurricane/wildfire/hailstorm/you-name-it, this altogether familiar and wonderful voice whispered in my heart of hearts "so...this is how this happens. this is how it was always supposed to happen. it took every single step both of you took to get here. be here, now. and don't be afraid. none of this is accidental." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and so all these thoughts/hopes/plans/wishes i had concocted as a little girl, staring out my window, looking at the pecan trees in our front yard, and imagining what it would be like to be bride found their way back into my head. and like so much i've learned in my adulthood, the actual doing of the thing is much different than the philosphy of the thing being done. i can read a book about changing a tire and understand how to perform that task intellectually. however, and as much as i hate to admit this..., until i'm shredding the knees of my jeans on the pavement, swearing at lug nuts and ragging up my cuticles, and sweating like Secretariat on the homestretch, actually changing the tire, i really don't know anything practical,real or factual about changing the tire. it's kind of been the same with planning a wedding. it's been exactly the same thing about pondering and exploring and becoming a wife, someone's partner, someone's next-of-kin, someone's (G-d...So.Cheesy, but true) last call of the day. and it's not always the way i thought it would feel, or smell, or taste, or look, or sound. it's better. because i'm not thinking about it, not imagining it, not dreaming it, not putting together my best guess based on stories i've heard or read or made up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> this is real life, every.single.second. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and it's his, and mine, and ours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and i never thought i'd be all gushy and girly over stuff, that i'd be one of those girls who gets all sappy and teary, that i would ever ever ever in a million years be this gaga over a guy. but i am. i always thought i'd want some big fluffy white wedding dress, until i realized that was pretty much the last thing i wanted to wear when i marry this man. i thought i'd want a wedding with everyone i'd ever liked to spend time with in attendance, and gardens of flowers, and a string quartet, and lots of candles, and the london boy's chior, but what i want most is just to see his face at the end of the aisle, and i sort of surprised myself by genuinely not caring about any of the extraneous crap. but i was still rock solid on the idea of having a cake, because...i mean, come on...there is no dessert better than wedding cake. and i wasn't surprised at all that i wanted to use my parents' wedding rings to make the ring i will give to him. i was surprised that i cried when my mother gave them to me, and that i cried when i wore them to church the next day, and sang a hymn that was played at my parents' wedding. that was mystical and magical and miraculous. and was another still and familiar voice, whispering in my ear, saying, " this is how this happens. this is happening. this is now." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so, this weekend, i'm buying a wedding dress. we're ordering a cake. we're ordering his ring. and i know it'll be different than i think it will be. and that'll be exactly what it's supposed to be, because it won't be my imagination, it'll be reality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and when i hear that still voice, (and it's always a still voice, ringing inside me like a tibetan prayer bowl) inside my deepest self, and i am shaken and steadied by what it tells me, what it reminds me, what is says is real and true and now, i know that now is worth everything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and it always was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rmg</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-21813472733803924972012-08-20T16:16:00.001-05:002012-08-20T16:16:33.553-05:00right foot, left foot...<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>"...one must command from each what each can perform, the king went on. "authority is based first of all upon reason. if you command your subjects to jump into the ocean, there will be a revolution. i am entitled to command obedience because my orders are reasonable."</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>" ...then my sunset?" insisted the little prince, who never let go of a question once he had asked it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>"you shall have your sunset. i shall command it. but i shall wait, according to my science of government, until conditions are favorable." </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>--the little prince</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">"w</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">henever you do what is holy, be of good cheer, knowing that God Himself takes part with rightful courage."</span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><i>--menander</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><i>"listen. are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><i>--mary oliver</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">i've maintained for most of my thirties that being brave is not about being without fear. it's about feeling the fear down to my toes, and continuing to move. it's about being relentless in not laying down, or at least not staying down. we can't help but fall sometimes, even when all the lights are on, and the floor is level, and there are no obstacles in sight. sometimes, we just fall. it's easy to try and deconstruct why we've fallen, but sometimes getting up is the scariest part of the falling, because we don't know if we might have hurt ourselves in a way that won't show up until we get off the floor, or if we've split our pants, or torn our skirts. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">sometimes, we fall and make a mess, and have to figure out how to get off the floor without making an even bigger mess. it's hard to know how to pick ourselves up, sometimes. we know that staying down isn't a reasonable choice we know that getting up is going to be hard. we know we will probably be sore, tomorrow, and that the bruises will take time to fade. we know those things. we know them, but we have a hard time getting right with them, with radically accepting the true fact that sometimes, the mess ends up in your lap, in your face, on the floor, right beside you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">i do a crappy job of giving myself permission to struggle--i think that's true of most people i know, though. i know myself well enough to know i can go right from giving myself permission to do/feel/think a certain way into manipulating myself into laying down on the floor and wallowing in delicious misery. and MY G-D, what a way to waste time...and i hate wasting time. but i know that there are days when i have to look at myself in the mirror and tell that girl that it's ok to struggle for balance. it's ok to not have the next right answer. it's ok to be frustrated by circumstances over which i have no control. it's totally ok. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">what's not ok is for me to beat myself up about struggling, because OH MY GOSH, major life changes have been happening for the last...i dunno...11 months, and while all of them are incredible and wonderful and life-changing, and i wouldn't change a single thing about any of them...a lady has a very full brain and full heart, and life simply does not stop so that i can digest and process all of it, and catch up. none of us ever get to stop the game clock. there are no commercial time-outs. the test is now, and it's all cumulative. get right with it. i also can't lie about not struggling. integration and transition are hard life-processes to learn, no matter how old i am. and it's ok that i don't know all of it, right this minute. the things i don't know about life in general far out-weigh the things i do know. i'm reasonably sure that will be true no matter how long i live, or how many different life situations i have. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">i had lunch with a good friend, today. my friend is struggling. we talked a lot, and cried a little, and i did my best not to fix. but that conversation reminds me that all of us are learning how to do something new, right this minute. we know that the people around us give us more mercy and grace than we can possibly know about, but we both have a hard time giving that to ourselves, both have a hard time being grace-filled and merciful to ourselves. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">i'm convinced that learning to be friends with myself, with falling in love with the substance of myself, the good parts and the bad parts, are a life-long process, and since i really started that endeavor three or so years ago, my life has taken many turns that i would not have been able to weather, had i not started that process. i know i have to continue to be committed to knowing and loving myself, not just for the good of my marriage, my family, or my vocation, but for my own good--that wild and precious and unique creation of G-d, that will never ever come again in this form, that Jesus lived to love. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">and when i remember that, when we all remember that about ourselves, something like courage and strength bubble up, and i can smile at the face staring back at me from the mirror, and tell her, in all honesty, "honey, it's all just fine. all of it. now, go do your best, and believe that the rest will be just as it should be. because it will, and it is." </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">mil besos,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">rmg</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-10535914763957203562012-07-17T12:04:00.004-05:002012-08-17T17:32:47.872-05:00sh*t you missed...<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much?</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> h<span style="background-color: white;">ave you practis’d so long to learn to read?</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> h<span style="background-color: white;">ave you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> s<span style="background-color: white;">top this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems;</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> y<span style="background-color: white;">ou shall possess the good of the earth and sun—(there are millions of suns left;)</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> y<span style="background-color: white;">ou shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books;</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>you shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me:</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i> y<span style="background-color: white;">ou shall listen to all sides, and filter them from yourself. </span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>--walt whitman</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>we shall not cease from exploration</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>and the end of all our exploring</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>will be to arrive where we started</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>and know the place for the first time.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>through the unknown, remembered gate</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>when the last of earth left to discover</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>is that which was the beginning;</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>at the source of the longest river</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>the voice of the hidden waterfall</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>and the children in the apple-tree</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>not known, because not looked for</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>but heard, half heard, in the stillness</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>between the two waves of the sea.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>--t s eliot</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>the minute i heard my first love story, </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>i started looking for you, not knowing</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>how blind that was.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>lovers don't finally meet somewhere,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>they're in each other all along. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>--rumi</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so, two weeks ago, the manfriend and i are sitting on the couch in the apartment in happy valley, watching wimbledon and trying to avoid confronting the fact that he is about to leave, and we aren't going to see each other for TWO WHOLE WEEKS (GAH). i'm wearing my favorite green t-shirt and black knit skirt, pink pearl earrings, and my silver bracelet that i always wear. he's wearing his favorite gray t-shirt with the rocket ship on it and black cargo shorts. jinx is crawling all over the place and being super vocal. it's about nine fifteen, and it's that really nice time in the morning, when the light is kind of soft and just starting to get really bright. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">homefry looks right at me, and says (and i'm paraphrasing, because there was A LOT that he said and i said that you don't need to know about, but <i>this</i> is the important part), "hey, i want you to think about something with me. let's think about getting married. i want to do this with you in front of G-d and the people we love. let's do this." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and then my head exploded all over the couch cushions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but really i just sort of nodded and said something totally inane and classic Peg like, "i totally want to think about that, too. we can definitely do this." that's right...the girl who never shuts up, who knows more metaphors that should be legally allowed, who even talks in her sleep couldn't come up with anything better to say that a sentence that included both the words "totally" and "definitely"...i think i probably said "seriously" a couple of times, too. this dude really, really, really loves me, you guys. and i can't say enough about all the ways and whys i love him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i didn't cry until he actually left, and then OMG, sh*t=lost. laughing, crying, pacing and skipping, and Jinx giving the big "what the douce" eyes, and finally just retreating under my bed for the duration of the fit. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and that was the best day, ever. until last week.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...and this is the part where i tell you that on friday the 13th (... we had our first date on a friday the 13th...), we decided that we were done thinking about getting married, and that we're getting married on thanksgiving day, in front of G-d and our families. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this is real. this is happening. and i am so excited, i haven't stopped smiling. and i can still hardly breathe. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">there is nothing better than how this feels, not in this life. it feels like praying, like singing, feels like doing all my favorite things all at once, feels like hosanna and alleluia, and saying thank you to G-d with every single breath. i feel like Moses must have, when he looked at the burning bush, and saw the flames, felt the heat--the bush was not consumed, and Something Amazing was happening... i am awestruck and at attention, and i don't want to miss a single second. it's holy ground, this. and i have no intention of ever putting on shoes (metaphorically speaking, of course...) ever, ever again, even when i have to go to the grocery store. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">oh, internets...thanks for being here. we can't wait to see you and show each other off. thanks for your love, and your prayers...we love you, too. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and killer, i love you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we're definitely, totally getting married. seriously. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rmg </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-3021743027579039052012-07-05T12:12:00.001-05:002012-10-23T10:06:45.282-05:00this one is about baseball, after a fashion...<div style="text-align: right;">
<b style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">we should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling. therefore, the judgment of the intellect is, at best, only the half of truth, and must, if it be honest, also come to an understanding of its inadequacy. </span></b></div>
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<b style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--c.g. jung</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">some part of our being knows this is where we came from. we long to return. and we can. because </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">the cosmos is also within us. we're made of star-stuff.</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> we are a way for the cosmos to know itself. </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"> --carl sagan</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><b>you do not have to be good. you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><b>---mary oliver</b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">if what you want to do doesn't make you shake in your boots, your dream is not big enough. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--brother ishmael tetteh</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">my fairy godmother/boss says that if you find yourself in tears or belly laughing or having vivid dreams or being so emotionally moved you actually vomit, you'd better pay attention, because it's quite likely G-d trying to tell you something pretty damn important. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">i may not know much, but i know that much is true. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">i can tell you for true and for certain that i've spent a huge portion of the last...i dunno...thirteen weeks laughing until i cried, crying because i'm happy, and dreaming these crazy colorful dreams and talking in my sleep like a four-year old. G-d's not so much trying to tell me something so much as i feel like G-d is giving us a standing ovation and keeps filling up our glasses, and i'm pretty sure the toasts will last well into the wee morning hours. and i don't care how much sleep i lose, because to be alive and awake at this very second, which ever one it is, is worth everything. and it's worth ripping out a hem, tearing up a perfectly good pair of shoes, making deodorant work overtime, getting slightly more buzzed than is entirely appropriate in public, irritating the dj into just handing you his ipod because you've requested an ENTIRE ALBUM, and not just one song...you get the idea. this is worth it. every. single. second. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">here's why i don't even mind the missed sleep (...and you guys know how much i just LOVE sleep...it's like my third favorite thing to do in the whole world.) and why people with good sense never mind missing sleep over good things: good things are like no-hitters or winning streaks in baseball--they don't come around that often. there's some flavor of luck that lingers when you taste the incredible, but those same sensible people will tell you that luck and timing taste an awful lot alike, but timing is ever so much sweeter, because we have less to do with timing than we can imagine. timing, on our part, is knowing just when to jump, and when to stand still. remember when you were little, and you tried to jump on the merry-go-round while it was spinning super fast? sometimes, you got it just right, and everyone thought you were awesome for like two whole minutes. sometimes your timing was off (and whether by a little or a lot, it was still OFF) and you ended up half under the merry-go-round, with your shorts and shoes in a muddy mess, and your mom running over to yank you out from underneath the metal death wheel, and asking you in her mostly-scared but slightly exasperated and very relieved voice just what in the sam hill you thought you were doing and telling you it's going to take a miracle to get these shorts clean...timing...it hasn't changed that much from that merry-go-round bit. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">to be engaged in time, to actively participate in the timing of the universe...you gotta pay REAL close attention to what's going on, and you've got to be ready to get in the game and play your nuts off EVERY SINGLE SECOND, even if you suspect you'll be riding the pine pony all night. because...<b><i><u>we're on a streak</u></i></b>. this is one of those crazy games where the team you love best is going to break every single record you can think of that could be shattered in a single game. the pitcher is pitching a no hitter...the catcher just batted for the cycle TWICE, and then there was a grandslam on a freaking bunt, right before we all got up and sang "take me out to the ballgame", backed by the entire jam session line-up from the "last waltz" AND elvis. it's so epic and so ridiculously beyond what you ever expected that ballgame to be, you'll probably have to go to the locker room and sob hysterically into a towel for a couple of minutes during the seventh inning stretch before and after you throw up all your popcorn and big pickle, because you know it's <b>real</b> (those pinch marks on the underside of your arm prove YOU ARE AWAKE), and it's just so intense, you don't even have any words left. and what you want most in the world is to just keep playing well, to not think about the streak or the no hitter. because you can't think about that too hard. if you do, you stop playing well, and start trying to play perfect. and that's when bad things happen. so you gotta hold this like and egg, rook. and never take your eyes off the ball. ever. and have you ever, ever, ever had more fun in your whole life? see...told you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">i honestly believe that there's an incredible trinity made up of grace, mercy, and timing that is running this show. and unlike things we make ourselves--talismans or mantras or rituals; grace, mercy, and timing never run out, never lose their magic. they are always running head of us, sweeping up behind us, hanging up fresh curtains and changing our linens out, holding us in these incredibly gentle and unseen hands, so that even on days when we stumble, days that are hard, days when we are not our best and brightest selves, there are soft words and tender feelings to make it not so bad, not so very bad, at all. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">we talk about baseball and miracles--water into wine, the respendent universe inside a little butter-thief's mouth, loaves and fishes, and sunrises. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">we know this. we think about this. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">we have a whole pile of things we think about with each other, together and apart. and that's worth losing sleep over...this streak, this no-hitter, this miracle season for the books, and knowing we win. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">we win. no curses, no rain delays, and even when the winter comes and kills the grass and ivy, we'll take our business inside, and work on fundamentals until spring rolls around, again. and all things shall be well. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">mil besos,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">rmg</span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-80726961104576809402012-06-18T12:51:00.000-05:002012-06-18T13:06:49.463-05:00babylonian time zones<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>time (tīm)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>n.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>1.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>a. a nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>b. an interval separating two points on this continuum; a duration:a long time since the last war; passed the time reading.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>c. a number, as of years, days, or minutes, representing such an interval:ran the course in a time just under four minutes.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>d. a similar number representing a specific point on this continuum, reckoned in hours and minutes:checked her watch and recorded the time, 6:17 AM.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>e. a system by which such intervals are measured or such numbers are reckoned:solar time.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--american heritage dictionary</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>i believe in intuition and inspiration. … at times i feel certain i am right while not knowing the reason. when the eclipse of 1919 confirmed my intuition, i was not in the least surprised. in fact i would have been astonished had it turned out otherwise. imagination is more important than knowledge. for knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution. it is, strictly speaking, a real factor in scientific research. ---albert einstein</i></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>“one’s personal legend is what you have always wanted to accomplish. everyone, when they are young, knows what their personal legend is. at that point in their lives, everything is clear and everything is possible. they are not afraid to dream, and to yearn for everything they would like to see happen to them in their lives. but, as time passes, a mysterious force begins to convince them that it will be impossible for them to realize their personal legend…</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>it’s because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. it’s your mission on earth. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--paulo coehlo, <u>the alchemist</u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">mostly, time passes in a flash and a blur. sometimes, i can catch snips of what's happening at the edges, if i look out the corner of my eye, but things are usually so fast and furious, i keep my head pointed straight ahead and capitulate to the tunnel vision that comes to take over, and help me not feel like i'm about to throw up everything i've eaten in the last seventeen years. it's hard for me to remember that time is a convention we've invented, in our wisdom and our blindness, to help us not feel so...small. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">sometimes, when i watch my favorite movie, and see that fresco of lions painted 30k years ago (a full 20k years before our voices had developed enough to speak words you and i would hear as intelligible), i almost can't breathe. we leave such small and stunning things behind us, to mark our time. some of what we leave behind will never be found or uncovered. other pieces, moments, poems, paintings, remnants of bone, hand prints, etc...they end up staining the walls of where ever we live and move and have our being, and the people who come after us will come to know that while time has passed, it is somehow mysteriously still in motion, with everything still happening, still rushing and flowing and shaping us with it's unseen and ferociously tender hands. i can look at those pictures on that cave wall and believe in a forever that i was never able to see, before. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">i remember the first time i left the central time zone. we were on a family trip, to new mexico. i was six, and my brother was two. ...white sundress with tie straps and red piping and smocked down the front, and little white sandals, and sitting as still as i possibly could while the man with the box full of colors drew a picture of me for my momma to hang on the wall... eating the hottest enchilada of my entire life, and my poppy smiling the whole time, while my eyes watered and i giggled the whole way through dinner... kachina dolls and getting lost in a giant truck stop at carl's corner. there was something mystical about the idea that this trip to an enchanted land (tip of the hat to you, new mexico...) was a WHOLE hour different from the life i lived in my little yellow house in btex. i was very insistent that EVERYONE adjust their watches, when i read the road sign that proclaimed "NOW ENTERING MOUNTAIN TIME". i was fascinated by the idea that just by moving yourself around on the face of the planet, you had to change your clock to keep up with where you were. at least, that's how i believed time worked, when i was six. frankly, i still kind of believe it works that way. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">in babylon, it's easy to believe that some time passes more quickly than others. it's so easy to believe-- i make up shit that isn't true, just to pass the time. i tell myself that mondays are forever long, and that the week between christmas and new year is the fastest week of the year. i agonize over time away from things i need to do, accomplish, finish, start, sew up, love, grow, weed, burn, bandage, rock, and carry. i forget, in my haste to cross things off my list that every minute is 60 seconds long, every day is 24 hours in length. i get the same time, every day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">those hours seem to be flying by when i am actively engaged, even if it's active engagement with something i'm</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"> not crazy about...sometimes, that same<b> exact</b> amount of time drags when i have to do maddening tasks or have tedious conversations or fold laundry or be sick or spend time with people i don't like in places i'd rather not be. but, i don't always get a vote on where/how/with whom i spend my time. i do get a vote on how i choose to view it, on whether or not i allow it to spin by me in a blur, or take it by the reins and slow it the eff down. the real trick is to keep this at the front of my mind: "make every minute count". as long as i remember that, remember that the shot clock and the game clock are one in the same, i do fine. and that clock isn't one that lives on the wall, or one that's regulated by some cesium core in a basement in brussels. that clock belongs to G-d, and has numbers on it that i can't read. i have no idea how much time has been counted by that clock, nor how much is left in the tank. truth be told, i could care less. all i can do is hold the time i have gently, and make every single second count. and sometimes, annoying as it is, i have to say that out loud to myself, and sometimes to other people. i can't lose track of that. can't. won't. must not. but i have to hold it like an egg...one of those faberge jobs that goes for like $10k at an auction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">the tighter i held on to my idea of time, timing, and what it all meant, the smaller my idea of G-d and love was. letting go of that clock, <b>my clock</b>, the shot clock i was convinced i would never beat, never best, never fully comprehend was harder than anything i've ever had to do, ever. harder than burying people i loved, because time is tied up in that bit, too. i stopped wearing a watch when i was twenty-five, as part of a lenten discipline, but also because i knew i was looking at my watch way more than i was looking at the faces around me, more than i was looking out the window of my office, more than i was looking at anything else, to tell the truth. i didn't like that. i didn't pick up another one until i had to wear one at camp. i was so glad to take it off at the end of the summer, to see that inch of untanned wrist glow in the dark, to be unshackled from that band of time that made me hurry and rush from one thing to the other, when what i really wanted to do was be still and sit and process. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">being in babylon is all about time, the illusion and the reality of the concept of time. it is totally analogous to "doing time" in a strange and somehow familiar/slightly unknowable jail. it's hard to make my peace with that. <i>we are captives here.</i> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">the upshot is that every now and then, we can find these spaces and these people within which and with whom time becomes very fluid and thin, and we can just peek over the walls and into that place of promise. sometimes, we even get visits to that place. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">we get to sneak over the wall or under the wire, and hike back into that green and lovely morning-place where it's all new and flush and vivid and there are no clocks or alarms or hourglasses or punch cards or anything, not even a stuffed crocodile with a clock in his mouth to remind us that we've won this part of the war. there's just the sun and the trees and the clouds and the birds and crickets and centipedes and a flock of turkeys and something new to see around every corner. we don't get to stay there for long, because even though it feels like time stops in this place, it really doesn't... but we can find the way back, any time we like, if we're willing to close our eyes and believe in the space we make between ourselves, when we are honest and good and kind and true. it's very much the Kingdom of G-d between us, it's the intersection of the-already and the-not-yet. and it is breathtaking. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">it's not magic. but it is a miracle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">he says we have our own time zone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">rmg </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-48047513549455102052012-06-04T15:42:00.001-05:002012-06-04T16:08:42.640-05:00Job Description<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">"as time wore on did she think much about the beloved parents she had left behind her?...wendy did not really worry about her father and mother; she was absolutely confident that they would always keep the window open for her to fly back by, and this gave her complete ease of mind. </span></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">what did disturb her at times was that john remembered his parents vaguely only, </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">as people he had once known, while michael was quite willing to believe that she was really his mother. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">these things scared her a little, and nobly anxious to do her duty, she tried to fix the old life in their minds by setting them examination papers on it, </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">as like as possible to the ones she used to do at school…</span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i> --peter and wendy, j.m. barrie</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>"when she stopped conforming to the conventional picture of femininity she finally began to enjoy being a woman."</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--betty friedan</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>"i do not believe that the accident of birth makes people sisters and brothers. It makes them siblings. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Sisterhood and brotherhood are conditions people have to work at. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>It's a serious matter. You compromise, you give, you take, you stand firm, and you're relentless...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i> --maya angelou</i></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>"the highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out of his nose."</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: left;"><i> --garrison keillor</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><i>"remember how it's always been...you and me against the world...how we always said we could do anything, as long as we did it together?" --laban seth graves</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">honestly, it's the only job i've ever done that i felt remotely qualified to do. that's probably because i was four years old when i took the job, and didn't know i was allowed to doubt my qualifications. it's a good thing mom and dad didn't wait until i was six to have my brother. and while i'm sad i didn't get to meet the baby lost between my brother and myself, or the one lost before i was born, i am grateful every single day that my little brother is <i>mine</i>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">if he hadn't come along, or not been so entirely himself, all the time (even when i sometimes wished he was a sister or a dog or just not so loud and rowdy)...if he hadn't been such a good teacher, such a worthy opponent in damn near everything, i shudder to think what a wreck and ruin i might have become. everything i know about how to live my life, navigate my life, relate to Jesus...everything i know goes back to being my brother's sister. it's the job i've had longest. being that kid's sister, learning how to do it, over the last 30 years, has made me better at everything else i've picked up, from actual jobs to being a girlfriend to working at a church for a wide and varied group of people...everything, everything, all of it goes back to being a sister. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">we have screamed terrible things at each other. he's the only person i've ever been in a fist-fight with. we have left marks on each other. there are stories we would rather not remember. but when push comes to shove...i know that he backs my play. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">he's the first person i'd draft into my army, if i had to go to war. he's the person i would trust to broker the peace, once the war was over. even on days when we don't understand each other, we have a bond that goes all the way to our bones. nobody but us can ever belong to that club. and my little brother...that kid could talk the devil into lighting himself on fire. he's smarter and funnier than i am. he knows this, but pretends that i'm the smart one. and on days when i drag ass, or need to laugh, or need to remember the middle of who i am and how i am, my little brother tells me ridiculous jokes and puts my nephews on the phone or has my sister-in-law just laugh into the phone. he is always teaching me how to be a better sister, holding my best self up to me, reminding me of who i am, of who we are, and where we are going. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">he's the reason my best friends are people i fold into my idea of family--he's the reason for all the brothers from other mothers and sisters from other misters i have spread all over the country. he's one of the best ways i understand family, and have applied that sense of community, of unconditional love (relationships have conditions...but love does not...remember that...), of intentional focus on honesty and vulnerability, and serious, wild, crazy, unfettered fun. he's the reason i like having roommates, most of the time. he's the reason i think farts are hilarious, and don't gag at toilet humor. he's the reason i never minded having guy roommates. he's the reason i know i'm not supposed to talk in movies, or during tv shows, or even some commercials. he's the one who explained football to me, and even though i know how, and can do it myself, he's always willing to bait my fish hook. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">when babylon comes calling, and it does, bidden or not, it's important to know my story. it's important to know what i'm good at, what perspective i need to call on to get things done. i have to know what's in my tool box, what's within reach, if it's a solo project, or if i'm going to get some help with the task at hand. my little brother, my brave and strong and wildly talented little brother, the kid who has given me a thousand nicknames, who pulled the most incredible stunt at my 16th birthday party...he's one of the ways i know G-d has a plan, and that i am loved beyond measure or understanding. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">...my little brother... he's been the face of Jesus on some hard days, in my world. both of them, my Brother and my brother, have taught me the best things i know, have taught me a posture for life-- one that makes family out of all of us. and in this foreign and strange place, this Babylon, living fully and freely and unashamedly into that posture is the way i live to make my life good. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">mil besos,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">rmg</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-54896517885979526962012-05-29T18:18:00.000-05:002012-05-29T18:46:40.585-05:00be careful what you wish for...<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">i have a simple philosophy. fill what's empty. empty what's full. and scratch where it itches.</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>--alice lee roosevelt longworth</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">all we demanded was our right to twinkle.</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>--marilyn monroe</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">'w</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">ell, I'll eat it,' said alice, 'and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way i'll get into the garden, and i don't care which happens!'</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>--alice, <u>alice's adventures in wonderland</u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i remember a night, not long ago (maybe a year, maybe less, but definitely before i left san antonio), on the phone with jax, out on my porch, righteously indignant and in tears, yet again. i don't remember exactly what i was upset about, or maybe i'd had a major session with therapy mary, but i was real.wound.up. i vividly remember saying to jax, " i really don't even care what happens next, as long as it's something different. this sameness, this always-winter-and-never-christmas...<i>this</i>, i can't stand much longer." and jackie, wise woman that she is, reminded me, "girl, you best be careful what you wish for." </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and she was right. i had best be really, really careful. and by" best be careful", i mean i stopped wishing...for anything. i stopped hoping, for anything. i caved all the way in, put my head down, and just kept going. because that's what i do, it's how i knew i was supposed to do it, not because of anything anyone told me, but because of how it felt when i finally stopped being such a cry-baby about how hard it is to be a real grown up and make a life that means something, and freaking acted like a real grown up and realized i had a life that meant something to me, and meant something that was deep and profound, and good, even when it was really, really tough to understand or feel like i was doing anything more than treading water. and it was absolutely the right thing to do. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it was hard, not hard like four years of therapy, trying to figure out how to be someone who didn't feel strung out and crazy and like a constant disappointment, and anxious about getting shit right, the first time EVERY TIME, but it was hard. those four years of work made it not awful, though. even when all the wheels came off, and there was that scary six weeks of waiting to see if pieces would fall into place, i never considered that <i>something</i> wouldn't work out. that's the strangest thing, the thing that i've always managed to believe, even before therapy mary, even at the worst moments...i always believed in my heart of hearts that i'd figure it out, that G-d and the universe would hand me what i needed, when i needed it, and i would figure it out. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and things did change. everything changed. and it's still changing. it never stopped, really...even though it felt like geological ages passed between when things got nuts and when things started to smooth out. the cool part, the part i didn't imagine, that i didn't even dare to wish for, was at some point, it wouldn't just be me figuring it out, navigating the rivers, looking at the calendar. and now, it's not just me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we figure this out, now. we figure this out. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">that's kind of amazing. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">mil besos,</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rmg</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-74429236873939468512012-05-21T12:40:00.002-05:002012-05-21T12:55:32.097-05:00no quarter<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>"we are not interested in the possibilities of defeat; they do not exist."</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><i>--Her Majesty Victoria, by the Grace of God, </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">of the </span>United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> Queen, </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Defender of the Faith<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">, </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><i>Empress of India</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: #fcfccc; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">so live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.</span><span style="background-color: #fcfccc; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. s</span><span style="background-color: #fcfccc; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">how respect to all people and grovel to none. when you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. if you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. when it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. sing your death song and die like a hero going home.</span>
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<span style="background-color: #fcfccc; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--tecumseh</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">as a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. to make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. to make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. </span>
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<i style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--henry david thoreau</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">two christmases ago, sitting in st john's with momma, grammy and aunt sue, i heard my buddy ripp preach one of the best sermons i've ever, ever heard. he related a story about two little boys with two very different world views, one totally pessimistic and jaded, and the other a precious little idealist, living off hope. to sum up... the boys woke up christmas morning, to find a giant pile of horse manure in the middle of their room. one began immediately to weep and wail and bemoan the mess that he was about to clean up. the other little guy just lit right up, and exclaimed "i just <i>know</i> this means there's a pony here, somewhere!" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">i felt so challenged by that story, and from the moment i heard it, i clung to it, dug into it like a tick, put my head in the well of this story and drank until i couldn't feel my tongue and throat, anymore. 2011 was a bruiser of a year, but that story kept me focused, because G-d knows there was a TON of shit to shovel in that twelvemonth. and it all smelled really bad. i mean really bad, like the kind of smell that hits like a brick, and immediately makes you throw up a little bit in the back of your mouth. real graphic, i know. but i'm making a point here...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">i struggle not to be the little kid who wakes up, just looking for something to bitch about, loudly lamenting the poo on the floor. i so want to be the kid who wakes up and begins to cheerfully clear up the mess, knowing that underneath it, there's something profound and beautiful and unexpected waiting to show it's face. it's a choice, really--do i wake up and immediately start looking forward to going back to sleep, and just do what i have to do to get through the day, or do i wake up and start shoveling and smile about it, because I KNOW THERE'S A PONY HERE, SOMEWHERE? i ask myself that question just about every morning when i wake up, and have since i heard that sermon. and most days, the baby jesus puts a hand on my shoulder, and i pick up a shovel, and we start to work with a smile on our face,knowing that we'll be going for a ride, at some point in the day. other days, and they don't come around very often (thanks be to G-d...) all i can see/smell/hear/dread is that giant and stinky pile of poo in the middle of the floor of my life. and that's ok, too. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">those bad days make me miss the other kind so much that i work like hell to avoid them. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">being my best self is important to me, to believe that i'm <b><i><u>bri</u></i></b></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><u>nging it</u></i></b> every.single.day. but the reality is that i have some days when i am not awesome, when i'm kind of bitchy and neurotic and need approval from EVERYONE about EVERYTHING, because LOOK HOW I'M SHOVELING MY SHIT WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE AND MY 8cm PEARL EARRINGS AND TWIN SET AND EVERYTHING. ADORE MEEEEEEEE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">it's hard to admit that, internets. it is HARD to admit that. but when those days happen, i do my best not to ignore them, to make them count, even when i'd rather just punch out and go home, and pull the covers over my head, and start over in the morning. because we don't get re-do's. there are no make-up pictures. this final is cumulative. there is no parlay. there is no time-out. and i don't have the time to waste whining or wishing away any part of any day i wake up alive, on the green side of the grass. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"> we're working on a clock here, people...tick-tock. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">the stakes for this game of choices are incredibly high, because it's not about ponies or poo or really good sermons, or that cute shirt i keep waiting to go on sale. it's about this life, about choosing to see as many sides to an issue as i can, and to do my dead-level best to find a way to celebrate the good angles. it's not about being pollyanna and constantly running the sunshine hose up people's...noses. it's choosing not to get stuck in believing all i'm doing is shoveling shit, waiting for shoes to drop, listening to whether the phone sounds ominous when it rings, etc. it's choosing to be grateful, even in the face of the unknown, and to be confident in the face of the unknowable. it's having the stones to be like moses, and stand with my face unveiled, just to glance at the glory of G-d's back. and that is worth everything. it's worth being different over, worth being misunderstood by people who don't get it or think i'm just a little bit silly about my approach to how i do life. it's worth knowing that G-d takes no prisoners, that i will be annihilated by love and grace and mercy... that picking up that shovel and getting to work and singing at the top of my lungs while i shovel, instead of wailing and gnashing my teeth, makes all the difference. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">mil besos,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">rmg</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>refuse to fall down.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>if you cannot refuse to fall down,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>refuse to stay down.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>if you cannot refuse to stay down</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>lift your heart toward heaven</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>and like a hungry beggar,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>ask that it be filled,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>and it will be filled.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>you may be pushed down.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>you may be kept from rising.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>but no one can keep you from lifting</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>your heart toward heaven — only you.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>it is in the middle of misery that</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>so much becomes clear.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>the one who says nothing good came of this,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>is not yet listening.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>--clarissa pinkola estes</i></span></div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-43847442375889516712012-05-16T16:03:00.000-05:002012-05-16T16:03:31.702-05:00throw down your arms...<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 13px;"><i>**from the American Heritage Dictionary:</i></span></span></div>
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<a href="" name="R5013000" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><br /></i></span></span></b></a></div>
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<a href="" name="R5013000" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>rad·i·cal</i></span></span></b></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<i style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">adj.</span></i></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">1. </span></b>Arising from or going to a root or source; basic:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">proposed a radical solution to the problem.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">2. </span></b>Departing markedly from the usual or customary; extreme or drastic:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a radical change in diet.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">3. </span></b>Relating to or advocating fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">radical politics; a radical political theorist.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">4. </span></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Medicine</span> Relating to or being surgery that is extreme or drastic in an effort to eradicate all existing or potential disease:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">radical hysterectomy.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">5. </span></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Linguistics</span> Of or being a root:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a radical form.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">6. </span></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Botany</span></i></span></div>
<div class="sds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a. </span></b>Of, relating to, or arising from a root:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">radical hairs.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="sds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">b. </span></b>Arising from the base of a stem or from a below-ground stem or rhizome:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">radical leaves.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">7. </span></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Slang</span> Excellent; wonderful.</i></span></div>
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<div class="pseg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #e5eff4; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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<i style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">n.</span></i></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">1. </span></b>One who advocates fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions:<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">radicals seeking to overthrow the social order.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div class="sds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div class="pseg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
</span><table border="0" cellspacing="5" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-collapse: collapse; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;"><tbody style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<tr style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><td style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="" name="A5039700" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></a></i></span><div class="rtseg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<a href="" name="A5039700" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>ac·cep·tance</i></span></span></b></a><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
</div>
<div class="pseg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">n.</span></i><div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">1. </span></b>The act or process of accepting.</i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">2. </span></b>The state of being accepted or acceptable.</i></span></div>
<h3>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">3. </span></b></i>Favorable reception; approval.</span></h3>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">4. </span></b>Belief in something; agreement.</i></span></div>
<div class="ds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>5.</i></span></b><div class="sds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">a. </span></b>A formal indication by a debtor of willingness to pay a draft or bill of exchange.</i></span></div>
<div class="sds-list" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1cm; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">b. </span></b>An instrument so accepted, especially a bankers' acceptance.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">6. </span></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Law</span> The demonstration of agreement with the terms and conditions of another's offer so that the offer becomes a contract between the two parties.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">'...one could say: </span><b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"the boundary condition of the universe is that it has no boundary."</b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> the universe would be completely self-contained and not affected by anything outside itself. it would neither be created nor destroyed. it would just BE.'</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>--stephen hawking</i></span></span></div>
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radical acceptance, in my life, is laying myself down on the lowest floor of my deepest self, and exhaustively exploring whatever is confronting me...</div>
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it's saying out loud, to myself, "well, this is what this is, and it's here, in the middle of my life, my house, my head, my heart. this is what this is." </div>
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sometimes, i really actually have to lay face-down on the floor to do it...but my goodness, in those actual physical moments of prostration, i have borne witness to some incredible events. </div>
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radical acceptance is not about fixing, or planning, or manipulation, or creating a power structure. it's about saying the unvarnished truth, so far as i can see it, and seeing what's <i><u>actually real</u></i>, because until i accept the objective reality of whatever situation or person is confronting me, i can't really see a damn thing. and it's hard to get out of the way. it's hard to put down what i want...to hear, or see, or smell, or hold, and stand eyeball to eyeball with the black and white and grey of things. </div>
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i have a hard time dealing with reality. wait...that's not really right...i have a hard time dealing with what i <i>think</i> reality means. sometimes, i get all stirred up, thinking that what is happening now is a constant, that it's always been this way and it will be this way FOREVER. that is fundamentally not true. it can't rain all the time any more than it can never ever rain, ever again. some days are dry. some days are soggy. and the reality is that i don't get to pick the soggy days or the dry days, or how many of them come in a row. and that irritates me to no end. </div>
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radically accepting things is admitting that whatever control i think i exert is simply an illusion that helps me get to sleep at night. it's also admitting that things are going to happen that i don't like, or understand, or that hurt. but it also means coming to terms with the fact that things beyond my wildest imaginings will find their way to me, as well. and that's not a bad trade off. </div>
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there is something like freedom in coming to terms with that. something just like it. </div>
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mil besos,</div>
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rmg</div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-664105939235500202012-05-14T15:29:00.001-05:002012-05-14T15:37:50.750-05:00pasture parties<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span class="text John-21-15" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when they had <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26902T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup>finished breakfast, Jesus said to simon peter, <span class="woj"><sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26902U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup>“simon, <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26902V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup>son of john, <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26902W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup>do you love me more than these?”</span> he said to him, “yes, Lord; you know that i love you.” He said to him, <span class="woj">“feed <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26902X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup>my lambs.”</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text John-21-16" id="en-ESV-26903" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he said to him a second time, <span class="woj">“simon, son of john, do you love me?”</span> he said to him, “yes, lord; you know that i love you.” he said to him, <span class="woj"><sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26903Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup>“tend <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26903Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup>my sheep.”</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text John-21-17" id="en-ESV-26904" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he said to him the third time, <span class="woj">“simon, son of john, do you love me?”</span> peter was grieved because he said to him <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26904AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup>the third time, <span class="woj">“do you love me?”</span> and he said to him, “Lord,<sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26904AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)"></sup>you know everything; you know that i love you.” Jesus said to him, <span class="woj">“feed <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26904AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)"></sup>my sheep.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> t</span><span class="text John-21-18" id="en-ESV-26905" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ruly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26905AE" title="See cross-reference AE">AE</a>)"></sup>you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.”</span><span class="text John-21-18" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text John-21-19" id="en-ESV-26906" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this he said to show <sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26906AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)"></sup>by what kind of death he was to glorify G-d.) and after saying this he said to him,<span class="woj"><sup class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-26906AG" title="See cross-reference AG">AG</a>)"></sup>“follow me.”</span></span></i></span></h3>
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<span class="text John-21-19" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="woj"><b><i>--the gospel according to st. john, 21:15-19</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="text John-21-19" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="woj"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="text John-21-19" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span class="huge" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;">i am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; i am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion.</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span><span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />--alexander the great</span></i></b></span></span><br />
<span class="text John-21-19" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></i></b></span></span><br />
<span class="text John-21-19" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="woj"><b><i><span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></i></b></span></span></div>
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<b><i>...snotty-nosed sheep are born looking for a place to die.</i></b></div>
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<b><i>--bobby mcmurry </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4F0-vFlcrjfPlnJ0YjXvR-Een1a-Uev4WHR7Y0xRilrVRRCXAum5oMaU6754NUUzpad78AGM4xt2WRVZfIhkGAEFEkIiHU0Dz_oi2jOFawJIPrKbvCR1nl7ZefDs4jr87_WAw0w/s1600/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4F0-vFlcrjfPlnJ0YjXvR-Een1a-Uev4WHR7Y0xRilrVRRCXAum5oMaU6754NUUzpad78AGM4xt2WRVZfIhkGAEFEkIiHU0Dz_oi2jOFawJIPrKbvCR1nl7ZefDs4jr87_WAw0w/s200/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+012.jpg" width="200" /></a> working with little people is one of the joys of my life. they teach me so much more than i teach them. i am constantly amazed at what we learn together. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KABsDrpWaiVC4f_NfQa2bmOKX8YKq7Bw21twdTbphmG1acyG_WCiCJuvneKOnHQe4TVSXSgWJO_xRlRo1E0t3hmv7Q56hpho7lJVvexFsPEJtzGERCDr6b6BQBN2e9mcjj_w4Q/s1600/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KABsDrpWaiVC4f_NfQa2bmOKX8YKq7Bw21twdTbphmG1acyG_WCiCJuvneKOnHQe4TVSXSgWJO_xRlRo1E0t3hmv7Q56hpho7lJVvexFsPEJtzGERCDr6b6BQBN2e9mcjj_w4Q/s200/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+023.jpg" width="200" /></a>here are some photos of a paper-painting we've been working on (it's still a work in progress) for the last three weeks. it's to remind us that we are each special and unique, and not just a homogeneous herd of dumb animals. there are sheep with wings and sparkles, and pink wool. there are butterflies and flowers and trees and bees and sunshine. there's a whole creation on this piddly little sheet of butcher paper. this may be my favorite thing i've ever made with the little people. i want to frame it and take it with me everywhere i go, to remind me of how special we all are, how much G-d loves us. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGeT8hOsQ2aUrXoJ3MkKzVznkgLjKe7LP8-RI25GMHw4HyKfpbdBqVOrX8BARsXutDjuKXRLBD1eRnXhwHpbOM21-7XVXpJYPcO1bQnVAk-xUQBKa-tT7rxx6_Xv5jDQAoOZJIw/s1600/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGeT8hOsQ2aUrXoJ3MkKzVznkgLjKe7LP8-RI25GMHw4HyKfpbdBqVOrX8BARsXutDjuKXRLBD1eRnXhwHpbOM21-7XVXpJYPcO1bQnVAk-xUQBKa-tT7rxx6_Xv5jDQAoOZJIw/s200/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+024.jpg" width="200" /></a>we talked about how sheep are defenseless without a shepherd. sheep are notoriously fragile, and have been known to drown in a rainstorm, simply because they become so mesmerized by the falling drops that they don't put their heads down, and their lungs fill up. not a real winner in the "will to live" department...but this is the image Jesus offers peter, the image He offers us, the picture of who we are and how we are. but it's also the image we are offered of Jesus, as well. and that's pretty cool. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPI23KIDJk8i5I4DJMsahn2NqQgqHKSgNivKhUs49ZkziW2qbrICfDCoMQWD_XYHo1mYfRG3pcKehLq2qtrFck_ZGzMu017MOM1McvjrG9Wv6JFUPn5uswc9BcYsOithOJs0zmg/s1600/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPI23KIDJk8i5I4DJMsahn2NqQgqHKSgNivKhUs49ZkziW2qbrICfDCoMQWD_XYHo1mYfRG3pcKehLq2qtrFck_ZGzMu017MOM1McvjrG9Wv6JFUPn5uswc9BcYsOithOJs0zmg/s200/phone+dump+paper+painting+and+butterfly+day+2012+031.jpg" width="200" /></a>Jesus takes the weakness of the sheep, the willingness to die without a fight, the innocence and wildness and fear of those dumb animals, and makes it into something beautiful, something strong, something solid you can rest against...something to be proud of...something by which we are inspired and encouraged. that is no small thing. this Jesus comes to us, and out of his lamb's mouth, roars a roar of love with the full throat of a lion. we have to remember that. our lives depend on it. we have to learn how to be brave and fragile, at the same time, and to know and believe that we are being tended well, even when it's dark and we can't see anything in front of us but more darkness. we are not sheep without a shepherd. we are Jesus's people, and the sheep of His pasture. i just love that. </div>
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pasture parties are part and parcel of my best memories from high school and college. i added another of them to my string of happy stories this weekend. i had a seriously kick-ass time making new friends and hearing stories that made me laugh until my face hurt. and i saw some shooting stars. and i watched the sun come up. and my boyfriend kicks so much ass, i can't stand it. </div>
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mil besos,</div>
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rmg</div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7999269.post-13347715544737700832012-05-07T15:28:00.000-05:002012-05-07T15:37:59.163-05:00i know this much is true...<div style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"i</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">t is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not kow your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--sun tzu, <i>the art of war</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"no one can lie, no one can hide anything, when he looks directly into someone's eyes."</span></span></div>
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<span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"the two worst strategic mistakes to make are acting prematurely and letting an opportunity slip; to avoid this, the warrior treats each situation as if it were unique and never resorts to formulae, recipes or other people's opinions."<span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br /></span><br />--paulo coehlo</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">"what spirit is so empty and blind, that it cannot recognize the fact that the foot is more noble than the shoe, and skin more beautiful than the garment with which it is clothed?" – michelangelo</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">babylon is a strange place. i never know who i'll bump into and recognize immediately, even though i've never seen them before. instant familiarity is instantly comforting. and scary as hell, sometimes, too. because i don't <i>really</i> know...i'm just going on instinct. and let's be honest...i've been wrong about some things i was SURE i was right about. not often, but jebus...when i'm wrong about that kind of thing, the carnage can stretch for city blocks, and the clean-up makes chernobyl look like a cake-walk. i suppose that's true for most of us, but i can only own my own little corner of the truth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">what i know is this: if we don't find faces we can pick out of the crowd, hands we can hold for no good reason, people who can look at us as we really really are and not blink, we live poorer lives for it. that's not to say one can't make a good life in a solitary fashion. people do it every day. but even those people have faces, hands, people they look and lean into, because they can. because we all need that, at the bottom of who we are. we are communal creatures. sure, sometimes we get bitten or bruised, and slink off to our fortress of solitude to heal up and and gather our wits and nerve about us before we join the pack, again. that's just part of it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">the people in our lives around whom we can be truly naked and unashamed are the most important people we know. so much of who we are and how we are has to be covered up so much of the time, to protect ourselves from all the pointy, scratchy, hurtful, mean things that rub up against us anytime we go out into the world. and we cover up things that don't <i>have </i>to be covered up, but we cover them up anyway--to conform, or confine, or contradict...we cover those things. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">sometimes we don't just cover those things, we plaster over them. we cover these soft places with impermeable and impenetrable armor, because we have utterly convinced ourselves (or been convinced by the world) that if anyone saw <i>that </i>bit, no one would ever ever ever love us. we know there will come a day when the plaster will be removed, and that tender place will be exposed to the air and eyes and hands of a world that may not treat us the way we want, need, or deserve to be treated. and when we think about that day, even when it doesn't feel scary or hard to think about it, we still furtively apply an extra-security coat of waterproofing to that plastered spot. because...you know...someone might <i>see.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">sometimes, that day comes totally unbidden and unexpected, and there you are...stark raving naked, fresh as the day you slid out of your mother and into someone's cold, clean hands, to be checked out from stem to stern by expert eyes. and your best bet is just to remember that it never really mattered what you covered up, or how carefully you covered it, because it was there all the time and real as roses, whether anyone else could see it or knew about it, or not. because you knew it was there. and for better or ill, if something is ever to thrive, to grow and change, it's got to see the fresh light of day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">we all need people we can be naked in front of, whether it's being really naked, or just being honest and raw. the freedom to feel, to not censor, to flip the switch "on" and go for broke, "jumping off the cliff because you love to feel the wind"...those are not small things, and they are huge risks to take. and if we're going to take those risks, and put all our shit on the line, and stare eyeball to eyeball at the unknown, we better have someone we can trust to put a gentle and firm hand on the small of our back, and tell us "you <i>can</i> do this". it's the only way we're ever going to make a real life in this world, and not just a life that looks like something off tv or out of a glossy magazine. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">there's a small set of people who can encourage us to do those kinds of things, to be brave and good and kind, even in the face of having all our tender and naked places exposed and potentially exploited. they are the most important people we know, they are the family we make for ourselves, and they are the friends we make out of our families. they hold our hands and our faces, and remind us that we are beautiful, even in the midst of our brokenness. they pull down the walls inside of ourselves, and remind us that what is the real and truest substance of ourselves is more powerful and profound than any of the the things we think matter on the outside. and that is something none of us can live without. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“ brothers and sisters: life is short and there is little time to gladden the hearts of those </span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">who go the journey with us. so be quick to love and make haste to be kind. </span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And may the G-d of Love-- Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer be with you and those you know and love, this day and forever-more. AMEN</span></b></i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;">”</span></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;">mil besos, </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;">rmg</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1