stirrings

i think i am about to start a spiritual journey.
i am starting. i have started.

i feel i am ready for this.
excited even.

i think its time to stop just existing. and holding on.
to begin to search again for hope.
to learn how to hold hope for others,
not just problem solve.

it will require a lot of contemplation.
a lot of learned meditation.
and maybe some dancing...
(and possibly roller derby).

i don't kid myself that it will happen quickly.
or ever end. or even be apparent.

but i know that something has to change.
and i have to start making some changes.
and i know i need some help on the way.

so i'm excited....
maybe i'll use this as a forum to reflect on...
or maybe paper is better, we'll see...
but. i want to make sure i don't just let it slip away.

obsessed?

i always seem to do this
and it doesn't matter that i am older
and theoretically wiser.

as soon as there is the possibility of a boy
as soon as the slightest interest is shown
i turn all of my attention and
mental energy towards thoughts of this possibility.

the idea of playing it cool.
or even of being pursued,
is completely lost on me.
i just keep pushing forward and trying
and trying and trying.

trying to contact.
via text. email. telepathy.

and when my attempts are not reciprocated,
i begin to obsess, to question, to doubt.
even before there is even a tangible possibility,
i am already imagining all of the options,
fortunetelling the future.
trying to will it into being.

i wish i could relax. just wait and see...
see if i even WANT to pursue something,
rather than being more intrigued by the possibility
than by the reality of my heart. of my plans.

basically, i just want there to be a possibility.
especially a far away possibility.
to have someone who i can focus on.
obsess about.
and, ideally, who is equally obsessed with me.
(ok, maybe enamoured, rather than obsessed).

but i don't take the time.
i just keep texting, even with no reply.
and getting more and more discouraged.
more disillusioned with myself,
with love. with men.

i feel like i'm in high school again.
having passed a note to a boy in class,
sitting staring at the blackboard,
trying not to notice if he's writing back or not.

why do i allow my emotions to be dictated by another,
especially when the other does not have a clue
that they hold so much sudden sway in my life.

maybe i am not well differentiated...
just pushed and pulled by externals...
my emotions constantly manipulated by
my own mind's perceptions of another.

i don't even know if this possibility is a possibility.
or if i would even want the possibility to become reality.
yet i can't stop thinking, focusing, drifting...
wishing he would respond so i could be in touch...
rather than waiting, trying not to seem desperate.

i am the least in control and logical in these situations.
i lose any wisdom i may have.
don't take my own advice.

i am single-minded. obsessed. alone.
lonely.

i found something written a while ago...

curled up on the couch.
unresponsive. fetal.
the caked on blood covered by one small plastic bandaid.
drool drips onto the sofa,
mingled with blood,
its origins unknown.
an empty green bottle of Imperial sherry
lies nearby,
kept company by 3 empty tall boys of beer
and a half dozen unopened ones.
a mobster movie plays quietly in the background.
Rogers. On Demand.

he can't sit up to greet us.
can't light his own cigarrette.
a pizza box is by the door.
he ordered it for us, and wings.
keeps asking if he paid me for the smokes,
for the eggs.
wants to buy us Tim Hortons,
pay for a cab ride home.
it is a bleak image. a painful one.
accompanied by the scent of urine and stale beer.
the immaculate apartment is in disarray.
the floor and the bathroom covered with smeared blood.

i love this man.
and i have to leave.
i can only come and go.
i have to ignore the plaintiff phone calls.
the manipulation that comes from loneliness.
the desperate struggle of survival.
a life spent fighting.
physical beatings and formidable determination.
terrified of confinement, of restraints.
too many dark days in the hole.
spent alone. solitary.

i need to take more risks.
i don't like this gloved existence.
he feels like a leper.
Hep C, the modern untouchables.
death lingers in the air.
not too close, but present.
a reminder.
no one wants to die alone.
no one wants to be dying alone.

the cigarette ash falls.
his eyes close again.
we say goodbye.
promise to come back Thursday.
to finish watching 'Young Guns.'
today he mentions the future.
today there were no threats of jumping off the balcony,
no demands for the keys to be returned.
maybe this means there is a glimmer of hope?
or the physical pain hasn't quite become unbearable.

i don't feel disgusted by the blood,
but i feel calloused to the cries.
this sense of his life and death hovers over me,
the corners of my eyes contain gentle tears.
brought out by music or silence.
he has lived his life alone. mostly.
i feel privileged to be a part of this ,
but its going to be really hard when he dies.
there are funny, happy stories too. but not today.
i hope we can still write them down.
i don't want him to die alone.
don't want him to be forgotten...

reflections on 'sowing and sexuality'

my feet are filthy and there's dirt under my fingernails.

black soil and remnants of charred asparagus...

today we finally planted. and i feel reminded of my lack of faith,

my inability to trust that things will grow. 

my overall pessimism with the world

and the way things are and the way they could be. 

thinking about sexuality

about wanting to give and receive - not just pleasure but life.

knowing that patience and rain are essential. 

trusting the sun and the darkness.

i realize again that i am lazy. 

i would rather sip beer on the deck than dig up hard soil. 

i want things to grow - and eat the fruits - 

but not do the work that is required.

wanting to find intimacy the easy way - and on my terms.

cheap and convenient. 

i want to cheat the process, literally. 

to go where i know i can find temporary satiation for my desires. 

like fast food. greasy fries that sit heavy in my stomach 

and harden my arteries, 

but are so tempting and satisfying in the moment.

wanting to pour out the pent up parts of me that seem so disconnected.

unhealthy weeds that lurk beneath the surface.

or maybe they are seeds waiting to germinate?

hibernating for years in the dark.

i reflect and wish that i too could find an outlet 

for my sexuality in a way that gives life, 

both to me and beyond.

wanting to share life in a deep way.

to set down roots, 

not into soil but into the life of another - 

so that we grow together and feed each other.

but right now i am still alone and unsatisfied.

despite wonderful friends and a beautiful backyard. 

despite laughs over beers on a patio and 

a job where i get to love people (some days). 

so many parts of me just feel unhealthy.

i don't know how to find faith or hope. 

and i don't feel like i have the time or patience 

to just sit back and trust anymore. 

i keep getting hurt and hurting others. 

like a dog going back to vomit.

people keep saying not to settle for less. 

that i'm worth more. 

at the end of the day though, where do i express these desires?

and how can i be fulfilled? 

to know that i'm not alone.

to know that i'm ok?

and those things i still don't know... 

and i don't feel like there are enough voices 

passing along wisdom for this journey. 

learning the hard way often seems to be the only way. 

continually learning through painful stupid mistakes

seems to be the only thing that makes me take action.

and that causes me enough grief to stop and reflect. 

and maybe that is the only way.

maybe the other options are too guarded. 

too safe. too many walls. 

but still, this is a lonely journey, despite the many who walk it.

some days i just get tired of walking alone.

there have been a lot of people dying lately.
or almost dying.
or in the hospital.

its that time of year.
with christmas approaching,
the festive decorations
often reinforce a sense of dread
or loneliness

for some people,
this is the hardest time of year.
not due to the busyness of buying presents
and multiple christmas parties.
but because of the reminders of what has been lost
or who is no longer with us.

people begin to seem more desperate,
less able to cope with the pain they carry day to day.
as the cold weather sinks in,
and the options diminish,
more people check themselves into hospital
or go too far trying to numb their pain.

at the same time,
more and more people are rushing to 'help out'
wanting to put in their once-a-year volunteer hours.
for this brief advent time,
people are more generous with their time and their money.
then their interest fades in january,
as the reality of debt, blizzards, and work sets in once again.

personally, i do not feel hopeless during the Christmas season.
i feel indifferent.
part of me tries to hold onto, and even create, family traditions...
while the rest of me wants to ignore the holiday altogether.
we've basically done away with presents and the rush of it all,
but we have not managed to maintain family ties,
or a sense of the sacred and memorable.

maybe if i were a more spiritual person i could find peace
in the 'reason for the season'
with all the candles, carols, and generousity that abounds.
but i just get bored and annoyed with it all
and prefer to think about it as minimally as possible

as it stands,
i watch a few bad christmas movies on t.v.
eat way too many gingersnaps and pablum fudge
and begrudgingly cook Christmas Eve for a dinner
that could embody the Christmas spirit,
but which always makes me feel stressed and more scrooge-like.

even still,
in january, i wish i could rewind.
because, if nothing else - Christmas is a season of expectation.
whether it be the forethought of a holiday from work,
an evergreen surrounded by presents or a tiny baby saviour...
when it is over,
there is nothing to look forward to but spring,
which is still 2 cold months away.

as much as i complain,
i don't think i will ever completely skip Christmas.
but i think i will have to find something to celebrate before Easter,
besides Valentine's.

... maybe St. Patrick's day will be good this year.

its been a long time

usually when i travel i tend to write a lot
not online, but usually i journal
record how i feel, what i'm learning,
how i'm being challenged.

i didn't write much this last trip at all.
didn't feel particularly like saying anything.
i don't know if it was because i wasn't learning
or because i just didn't have the ability
to process it at the time.

now that i'm back i feel that there were
things that i did, indeed, learn.
some of them where learned in contrast,
the flip side of the experience.

like the value of being in one place.
of being immersed in a community,
where one week, one month, or one year
is better than passing through and staying
at a random hostel for 3 days.
fun, and interesting, but not realistic.

so now that i am contemplating my future,
i have to try to implement these lessons,
but i am finding it hard.
i really don't want to commit.
and i don't know if its because i think i will
miss out on something better...
or because i want to keep my options open to
new possibilities

or just because i am scared.
scared of responsibility. scared of being committed
to something which may turn really difficult and
which i can't shrug off and think
'ah well, i'm leaving soon anyway'
realizing that when things get shitty,
i still have 2 more years to go....
i fear that i will change in that time.
or that something amazing will come up,
and other people will be free to do it and i will be stuck.

in many ways that is it,
and has always been the issue.

i hate the idea of being 'stuck'

i stayed in caronport for 5 years
and always felt 'stuck' there
and yet i chose to go back and go back and go back.
because i felt i was 'supposed' to be there.

i would NEVER have been able to commit to 5 years....
8-10mths was the most i could ever muster
(maybe that's why pregnancy is 9mths...
although it does come with a lifetime commitment...
again, why i am not having children)....

committing to school, even for 2 or 4 years,
at least gave me 4mths of freedom every summer.
i think i am resistant to growing up.
to becoming an adult and having to work year-round.
i don't really like the concept.
partially because i'm lazy.
partly because, well, life's too short
not to take a lot of breaks and visit your friends often.

the people i know who i envied,
who had a free year... to travel, to visit friends...
in many ways found it very hard,
to have no roots, no permanent community.

i feel like i could have roots here, for a while.
even tho i never want to say i am from KW,
i have friends here... i have to leave early for appointments
because walking down the street i'm usually guaranteed to
be stopped for a quick hello at least a few times along the way....
i feel invested in this community and it has invested in me.

yet i am still nervous to commit.
what if things change and i have to stay.
what if i really don't do well at this job??
i have so many fears and reservations...

"do one thing each day that scares you"
but this one day will turn into 365 or more...
it just feels so long.
so intense.

but there are good reasons to be around here.
family. babies. fun times.
i really have to decide. and move forward.
and grow up. (even just a little)...

and what if i'm not okay

insecurity is a beast
that steals in and eats your heart out
and your confidence
and your control

i was trying to write something positive
a song that empowers you when you listen to it
(nevermind that i can't sing and have never
written a song in my life)
but all i could do was cut down the things that
are supposed to be

comparing yourself to others should be one of
the 7 deadly sins.
i guess jealousy is. and they are sisters.
because i don't often compare people's struggles to my own,
only if mine are greater.
and i know you have to 'be your own person'
and you 'only have one life to live: your own'

but i can't help feeling like shit all the time.
slightly depressed. moody.
wanting to snap at people or block them out altogether.
and yet craving intimacy.
at the same time isolation.

i don't feel competent
or strong
or beautiful
or successful
or creative
or genuine
or assertive
or smart
or funny
or friendly
or loving
or _______

should i feel those things?
is that selfish?

but i feel immoblized
lame
immature
emotional
and pathetic

of course writing this out makes all those labels seem true

tagging along

i really did not know what this journey would involve
we say no expectations
and i realize how unrealistic that expectation is

i guess i expected a revelation
or inspiration
i thought it would fill me up
or make me less lonely
and grumpy
i thought it would refresh me, bless me,
upset me
(i wasn't really trying to rhyme, i promise)

but in the way of it all... things come together
this random journey of ours
which has led me to a random coffee shop in pittsburgh
surrounded by people who are all familiar with each other
enjoying a potluck and applesauce cook off.

we got off the bus here. neither of us knowing a thing about
pittsburgh
(besides the penguins)
and not knowing who we were here to see
instant hugs as we left the amtrak station
e-connections and new friends
with loaned bicycles and late-night brownies
and similar paths with troubled kids....
i marvel at the kindness of strangers
and the lack of strangeness
(although i still won't stop at the fire hall to fill up a tire)

i have learned many things that i already know

that i don't like to stop and ask directions
that i can be quite, and mostly, selfish
that i really don't need to shower but i get smelly
that i like to spend money on food but not books
that train really is the only way to travel

(and much more, i'm sure)

but i have also learned some new things

that conversation can come easily at times
that relational connections are very powerful
that pieces of life can come together in ways unknown ( http://quenchthethirst.org/)
that medicinal herbs and the inner city do mix
that people are quite friendly in the strangest of places
that slim jims are almost as readily received as a handful of change
that vanilla coke zero is as good as diet vanilla coke - who knew?
that serving and living where you are is as radical as anything
that the real adventure is developing lasting relationships where you are
that intentional community is an experience in learning to love each other
that we're doing o.k.


okay, so none of that sounds too profound
and that might be the point of it all

we didn't really experience anything radical

our prayer was that we could go and be a blessing to those we met
that we would have opportunities to serve
that we wouldn't be a burden to those we stumbled upon
that God would provide connections and opportunities
that we would learn about ourselves and our place and future plans
that we would meet and learn from people and find a space for dialogue
(okay, so maybe those weren't all conscious prayers, but thoughts that filled the background of our minds as we ventured forth)

we had heard of Kensington, and had the chance to serve on Kensington
we had the chance to see and weed in Camden
we saw random history museums
met doctors and caretakers in hostels
gave out a few slim jims
ate some delicious pretzels (but no cheesesteaks)
drank lots of chai
and had some pretty good chats...

of course this is all distilling.
and the outcomes and content aren't yet obvious
(what good things ever are?)

but i feel more rested
and think it'll be okay to carry on
especially feeling privileged to be in school,
when even in this rich land, some kids will never have a chance
and i think that we're doing okay

not that this trip has promoted complacency
and not that it has lit a passionate fire that'll fuel for years
but there have been sparks and stoked embers...
encouragement to 'keep on, keeping on'
that living it out... in simple ways.... is the only way....
not that macro issues aren't important
and not that justice is not critical....
but we keep asking questions and seeking....
seeking to love those in our community (neighbours, roommates, husbands-if-you've-got-em, family)
which is really so so hard and harder still....

but being intentional is important
and that was a good reminder
and i think i like gardening more now
and i think things make a little bit more sense
or a little less
or at least there's a little more peace
in the process

okay, this is far too long, and there's more to say

so this is a break-------------------------------

time to get it together

lars and the bastards is pumping in the background
(and by pumping, i mean, playing at volume level 3)

last night i got all teary-eyed (when am i not) looking at old pictures
and letters and memories...
realizing how blessed i am by the people in my life.
and missing those people.
and realizing that i hurt some of those people because of my own
self-protection and fear.
and there's nothing i can do about that now.
but i wish i hadn't caused pain. just to avoid pain.

i was looking at all these things.
and just thinking about growing up.
and what i always wanted life to be.
what i thought life would be.
and i didn't want this.
bored and lazy.
unmotivated and selfish.

i mean, those are the roots right - and they have to be plucked out.
and of course, they'll never fully leave.

but i decided to try starting the process over again.
the process of being redeemed.
of living life. really living it.

in the smallest of things.
and into the most important of things.

i need to write the letters i've been meaning to write.
show those i love the ways they have blessed me.
finish some projects i've been meaning to do.
take my time and use it -- to read, to sit outside, pray, sew, write.
there's a rut of work and sleep and watch tv that i have fallen into
(homework in there somewhere - theoretically)

but there is so much more.
that's what we always said.
it is easy to lose sight though.
especially while staring at a computer screen.

and it makes my focus much less eternal.
insignificant.
hour to hour. just getting by.
partly that's just the way it is sometimes -
feeling tired and burnt out - and not having a good reason.
when you're constantly spending yourself and serving,
its easier to feel burnt and keep going.
because you have a purpose and a goal.
but when you just feel drained and useless -
then it is so much harder to move ahead.

but each day is the chance to live.
and wake up and thank God for it all.
beyond what i deserve.
[i threw food away the other day.
and was reprimanded by someone who had lived
in a refugee camp.
this wasn't my mom saying 'there are starving kids in africa'
this is someone who has experienced hunger,
basically saying
'if you had lived my life, you would never have taken that for granted']

i take so much for granted.
i have wasted moments and hours and days.

i want that to end.
to begin the process of ending.
the process of living.
full life.

les incompetantes

i hate being seen as incompetent
or useless
but sometimes i play dumb
because i am insecure and
i am not confident in my abilities or decisions
so i act like i don't know what is going on
because i don't know what else to do
its annoying
and embarrassing
but i don't know what else to do

really defensive

i get like that sometimes and it makes me mad
and everything begins to make me mad

and frustrated

(angry blogs are always better than the others)

i feel like i have to prove myself
and i do prove what they say to be true

like the feminist argument
if you become defensive
they've already won and proved your point

(whoa, i feel so sick from a Tim Hortons cookie right now)

it used to happen more often
and make its because i'm short
so i have to make myself feel bigger
or maybe i feel like i am always condescended to
'ah, little ruthi'

you wanna piss me off? pat my head and speak platitudes to me
(is platitudes even a word? wiktionary)

i remember in high school... someone patting my head and saying "there, there"
facetious on purpose... but still enough to make my blood boil.

i always want to write. when i have homework to do.
and when i have to wake up early. (i hate that it means i have to go to bed early)

blogs weren't meant to be a public complaint forum.
but its just what comes out sometimes

anyway - i get defensive... trying to prove myself

you want to know something else i hate.
(not someone, something -- i hate the verb not the noun, if that makes sense)
shrieky girls.
the act of freaking out that makes people come to the rescue.

there's an ani song about this...
whether or not its true...
"i am not a damsel in distress, i do not need to be rescued"

okay, so i feel the need to put all the lyrics here...
so that i have them, somewhere...
bear with me... or skip this. or stop.

"Not A Pretty Girl"
I am not a pretty girl that is not what I do
I ain't no damsel in distess and I don't need to be rescued
so put me down punk maybe you'd prefer a maiden fair
isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

I am not an angry girl but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you were dirty and smiling

generally my generation wouldn't be caught dead working for the man and generally I agree with them trouble is you gotta have youself an alternate plan and I have earned my disillusionment I have been working all of my life and I am a patriot I have been fighting the good fight

and what if there are no damsels in distress
what if I knew that and I called your bluff?
don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
whether or not you ever show up
I am not a pretty girl
I don't want to be a pretty girl
no I want to be more than a pretty girl...

well.... i really don't feel the need to say anymore.
this may not sum me up most of the time
but it explains how i feel tonight

i'll figure the rest out later....

for my nanc

there are gifts
and there are blessings

there are sunsets
and there are seas

there are some things that we cherish
and there are some people that we need

whoa... enough sappy poetry
i wanted to write words for you
(maybe because you called me a wordsmith
and it stroked my ego)

but i wanted to convey what isn't shared enough

i wanted you to know again and again

how oifasdjfodhfodsaihfdois you are
(what word do i put there, special? important? loved? creative? amazing?)

and i wish i could be there
partly to hang out with you
partly to kayak and make mosaics
partly to watch you love your kids
partly to bake and drink too much chai

i wish i could be there for some or all of those things
and i pray that God brings you what you need
what you may not even know you need

God provides for you nanc
because you trust him

you represent faith to me
(did you know that?)

you jump and trust and enter the scary unknown places
because you know and love a Jesus who is there with you

even in the lonely places
especially in the lonely places

but i pray you don't have to stay there too long
and hopefully the answer to my prayers
(and yours)
will be a hot, west coast hippie with beautiful dreads
who can play a mean egg shaker
and fix your broken cars
(preferrably male, since i really want there to be a beach wedding
so i have an excuse to be there for a few weeks to help 'decorate')

i love you mate
and you are loved.

just frustrated enough

well, i guess i am finally frustrated enough to actually write something here

sometimes when its late, you just want to vent to someone...
and i guess this world is as good as any... for now...

i just get so frustrated...
and maybe its my toothache...
or just that time of the month...

or maybe because the end is near...
too close... and not fast enough...

but i'm just tired...
tired of being lied to
tired of yelling and not being heard
tired of being disappointed
tired of watching bad choices take their toll
i'm just tired...

man, i love these kids
and that's why it hurts so bad sometimes...
and i'll miss them when they're gone...
but they can break your heart, make you smile, piss you off... all in a matter of moments.

i know i know,
its all part of being a parent...
and maybe that just happens when you give birth...
but man, i don't know...

of course, in the end...
the good outweighs the bad...
the love outweighs the manipulation...
the hugs outweigh the evil glares....

until then though...
i'm just tired

maybe it'll work this time

so, i wanted to create a blog... just because...
i don't want to write anything...
i don't really want to share...
but i thought 'what the heck'... 'i'll be cool' right?
didn't work last time,
should have taken that as a sign...
we'll see