Everyday Apocalypse

David Dark, my 10th grade English teacher wrote a cool book by this name. Really good. I need to tell him all I benefited. Some ramshackle favorite words from it:

Enemy of all that numbs. tired old asylum. slowing down to see clearly. humor, hope, phantoms. daylight is a dream if you’ve lived with your eyes closed. sweet unrest. how to be a healer. marionette. bountifulness buttressed by gratuitude and deep satisfaction with… grace.. is sufficient unto itself. happily float in the waters most are drowning in. grounded. Because all of life is grace, and every detail contains an unfathomable revelation. darkened room, coalesced. cursing as the lowest form of prayer. trancendence in every word and action. mystery beyond our grasp. truly sustains life. skull hammering awakening or waste of time. disabused. dream up the kind of world we want to live in. the despair that calls itself realism haunted moral obligation to think and imagine further. Sanity requires as much. humility of mind make self accessible and vulnerable to that word. sees and affirms the redemption already present and already underway; looking for it. hopeful watchfulness. extravagance. maybe we can call it an artistic decision as well. engagement. although modest, we have to start somewhere. among temptations to be resisted the drive to try and make things happen. hold nothing too tightly. the stumbling and false starts that come with these shots at authenticity are part of a troubled earthenware vesseled legacy and lifestyle. glimpses, awe, superaliveness, lightheartedly aware of inadequacy. healthy skepticism begins with self doubt. irrepressible. ALL SHALL BE MADE ALIVE WITH LAUGHTER

melancholy

why is it that I love sad songs and feelings so much, when am such an easygoing happy person. My friends would say I'm the most cheerful and happy person they know (though I know Mariah is); every roommate I've had has told me that I am not like anyone they know, and Lauren (my most recent roommate) said she was astounded to find that I "really am so happy all the time." "She wakes up whistling and singing!" Lauren exclaims. And I do, and am incredibly enthusiastic about many many things, life in general. Yet for some reason I love sad songs and dark movies and serious contemplation. It appeals to me so much. Gloomy rainy days make me smile, dance, sing. I love feeling somber... and alone. That seems so wierd. And yesterday I stumbled upon a song that has been around for awhile apparently, but since when was I ever up on anything:) It's called Mad World by Gary Jules and is so beautiful and well written. It struck something in me. The lyrics follow:

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out places
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere
Going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one know me
No one know me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me
Look right through me
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Enlarging your world

Somehow I relate. I think that growing up a little bit does that to you. Life is really hard sometimes. That's life, that is a fallen, screwed up, mad mad world. It hurts. It's ironic and surreal at times, baffling and troubling. Yet in accepting the seemingly reigning chaos is peace and even happiness. This is real. This is life. God is here, somewhere, even if we don't feel Him at the moment. Christianity is not about pretending everything is fine. Heck, you can even deceive yourself for awhile if you want. But reality is rough, and Jesus came and lived it. Just because you have hope doesn't mean you don't struggle. But somehow there's joy in the fact that it's real and that this life isn't all there is. Sometimes that's all that keeps me going.

"Put a song in your throat
Let the dead beats pound all around
We will go nowhere we know
We don't have to talk at all...
ramshackle land...'Til we found our one and all".

Fyodor Dostoevsky

A genius. I am around two thirds through his epic Crime and Punishment, my third Dostoevsky novel (counting the brief Notes From Underground) and I am so in awe of his ability to capture deep psychological turmoil and thoughts and the feelings of people living in St. Petersburg Russia over 100 years ago, and yet I feel I know them. I am them. We are. More to come on this author.

today

Perry's Party was too fun. Family and 14 going-into-9th-grade boys. yeah. But the BEST news is that Char comes home from a semester in Mexico this Wednesday, in 5 days!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! YAY She is tremendously missed in my photos and in my life. But boy has she had e-mail stories to tell.

water ah, me gusta 

brother man, having a party 

time to skate 

Lyds and Melix 

yeah, Dad and Mom 

we luv circus world 

the man in action 

Perry with our next door brother, stu 

rollerskating, yesssssss 

flavor rush caught on camera 

Melis and Dad tearing it up 

psychedelic black light bowling baby 

Perry is 15, he doesn't want me to take his picture. 

mel attacking our brother Perry 

another marvelous melissa face 

starbucks pre concert; my feet, marimekko bag, mel's frappy 

***hope that I like it (NURSING)****

I feel disillusioned with the once idealistically utopian career of nursing which I have chosen. Once seeming so noble and inspirational, and good achievable, now seems so loomingly difficult and wearying. Wondering why I chose a science major (and one which made school so very un-enjoyable) when English, reading/writing was my best subject (and most enjoyed) throughout school. When I love humanities. As I'm wishing I had majored in literature/writing and philosophy plus taken art, psychology, religious studies, and language classes. How much I'd rather have my head in the dreamy clouds of thought and feeling, rather than the trenches of human suffering, and not only that but mean people who curse at you because they want to go down to smoke, and a generally harsh world.

My final practicum didn't really inspire and encourage me, though I learned much certainly. It gave me a taste of the difficulty ahead and the obstacles I'll face. The face of pain and suffering wears on one. People are quite rude at times when one isn't at fault. And the credit received rarely shadows matching the difficulty of the job and the appreciation deserved. But here I go, hoping to make some sort of a difference and avoid being ineffably dragged down to despondency by the cruelty and hurt. It's so much more scary as a reality than a theory/ideal. But that's life is it not? "It will take all of you, it will not be easy..."

Yet this is my calling, of this I have no doubt, and that herein lies real life, I am certain. That this is where I am needed and where I can connect in the depths of human suffering. To reach out as a human soul to another, and as one filled with the compassion only possible through Grace. To give my best to each one every single day, no matter how tired, discouraged, clumsy, hurt I may feel. And this only possible of God. Love is only possible through Him, and true compassionate care only possible through love. This is my calling. "Here I stand, God help me. I can do no other."

cool blues and fresh 

lovely morning 

I luv the beach 

Lynn Ann the grand; author, comedian, and nurse extraordinare