Today I posted a quote from Lucille Ball on my Facebook wall. It said, "Love yourself first and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world." I stated that I was not certain that I agreed with this idea and invited discussion. Well...I certainly got what I asked for, and more. But there was one comment in particular that caused me to think that perhaps it is time that I said my piece on a certain passage of scripture. (Okay, I have said it before, but I need to say it again.)
In Mark 12:30-31 we read, 30)And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. 31)And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.
I have always been told that this second part means that I am to love my neighbor as I love myself. But from a time since I was quite young I have read it differently. To me, when I read this first scripture, we are being told to love Him with everything we have got and then we are told that the second is like unto the first. So...in my mind that translates to say that I need to love my neighbor as myself. As me. I need to love my neighbor as only Cynthia can love them, with my particular gifts, talents, and abilities. I need not love them in any other way but the unique way that God gave me to love. Too many times we try to love our neighbor as someone else, as a facade, as we think we should be or as someone tells us we must be and we do not meet the measure of love for which we are capable. In my way of thinking, this means I must know myself, but not necessarily have a huge pile of self love. And I must know myself in conjunction with the first scripture, through God.
I struggle to love myself. But I do not struggle to love others. And the more that I am loving others, the easier it is to be less harsh with myself. So I am going to continue to read this scripture the way it makes sense to me and keep trying to be the most loving self that I can be, and hope that this is enough.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Thursday, November 7, 2013
The voice of God
I have spoken many times of the fact that I hear God's voice in the pounding of the surf. But I sense something more in this time at the beach. It is the roar of the ocean, that roar that is ever present and when there is that momentary lull in the pounding of the surf, there is still that roar. That is a constant and it is powerful and yet still all that the same time. It is less of a noise and more of a presence that one feels more than one hears. It simply IS. THAT is what I really loved in what I have felt at this time at the beach. As I stood there this morning, my "special" scriptures suddenly washed over me and filled my mind. The scriptures in the last few chapters of Job, beginning with chapter 37 all began to dance through my brain. It was glorious. It was as though I was hearing the voice of the deep speak scripture to me. And as those scriptures began to make their way through my head, one stuck, Job 41:31, "He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment." And then He offered me the gift of truth that I really needed, desperately needed. All things, through God, can be a salve. All things can be an ointment of healing and power. The sea is that for me. I am healed of some basic ills from my time here. I cannot have this place all the time, but there is an entire earth and creation that contain His voice and I need to just use the holy spirit to make certain that I am hearing, or feeling that roar in whatever part of creation I am currently standing in. I know that it is available. It is up to me to hear/feel it.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Finally, I can explain it!
Okay. Deep breath. I am going to admit something here that will upset some of, perhaps many, of my literary friends. But here goes...I struggle with "Pride and Prejudice". There, I said it. I have not spoken up about this because frankly I could never quite put my finger on just why it bothers me. Well...today I was reading a book that my mom gave me and told me I simply had to read so that we could discuss it. Now this is a difficulty in the relationship between my mother and myself, we do not read the same things and so she knows that to ask me to read something that she has read is kind of a tough thing. As many of you know, I have a list an eternity long of what I hope to read someday and I hate bumping anything off that list! But she pleaded and she had already dropped the book in the tub so it was pre-soaked, which seemed a good choice to bring to the beach, so I am reading "One True Thing" by Anna Quindlen, at my mother's request. And then, today, I came to a passage where the main character's mother is explaining why she has an issue with Jane Austen and the breath left my body. This was exactly what I had been trying to formulate in my brain for years. Here is the passage, an exchange between the main character Ellen and her mother.
Mother: "I remember this book. I was reading it when I met your father. I remember admiring it but being a little put off by it, too, because it does that cheap thing that people do, it makes the sister who is sweet and domestic and good a second fiddle to the one who is smart and outspoken. Jane and Elizabeth. I remember them now. It didn't seem fair to me, that Jane was so good and yet Elizabeth is the one who is admired."
Ellen: "I suppose that's Austen fighting back. She was that kind of woman and she knew that it was the sweet and good girl who was esteemed in society, not the one like Elizabeth who speaks out."
Mother: "But Jane Austen should have known better than to make women into that kind of either-or thing..."
Ellen: "Do you really think she does that?"
Mother: "Yes, I do. It happened in another book, too. Little Women, there was the sister who was the writer, and the one who had babies."
Ellen: "Jo and Meg."
Mother: "It's all the same. Women writers of all people should know better than to pigeonhole women, put them in little groups, the smart one, the sweet one. Women professors at the college do it too."
Ellen: "Perhaps Austen just meant them as prototypes."
Mother: "No, they're real enough, both of them, Jane and Elizabeth. Jane admires Elizabeth, and Elizabeth admires herself."
Ellen: "Not true, Elizabeth admires Jane plenty."
Mother: "Really? Where? When you are reading it this time through pay attention to that, show me where, tell me if you still believe it when the book is done. I remember liking Pride and Prejudice, only wishing that it could be told from Jane's point of view which you and your father would say would make for a very dull book."
WOW! The mother's thoughts hit it right on the head for me. The mother was saying these things because she was a "Jane" through and through, who had been dismissed by both her husband and her daughter because of her "Janeness", just as Elizabeth does dismiss Jane in the book. I am a mix of Elizabeth and Jane and I want both sides of me and all different women to be appreciated and allowed to express themselves fully and not be deemed second class, no matter their lifestyle choice. I don't want any woman to ever be second fiddle.
I realize that there are few who would agree with me, but it is nice to come out and admit how I feel and the wish I have that this book and others (not necessarily Little Women, I think more balance is offered there, though it is still slanted) would give more balanced weight to every women's choice, even if it might be the conventional choice or the choice society dictates. Jane was happy to be a sweet and domestic creature and there is nothing wrong with that happiness.
Mother: "I remember this book. I was reading it when I met your father. I remember admiring it but being a little put off by it, too, because it does that cheap thing that people do, it makes the sister who is sweet and domestic and good a second fiddle to the one who is smart and outspoken. Jane and Elizabeth. I remember them now. It didn't seem fair to me, that Jane was so good and yet Elizabeth is the one who is admired."
Ellen: "I suppose that's Austen fighting back. She was that kind of woman and she knew that it was the sweet and good girl who was esteemed in society, not the one like Elizabeth who speaks out."
Mother: "But Jane Austen should have known better than to make women into that kind of either-or thing..."
Ellen: "Do you really think she does that?"
Mother: "Yes, I do. It happened in another book, too. Little Women, there was the sister who was the writer, and the one who had babies."
Ellen: "Jo and Meg."
Mother: "It's all the same. Women writers of all people should know better than to pigeonhole women, put them in little groups, the smart one, the sweet one. Women professors at the college do it too."
Ellen: "Perhaps Austen just meant them as prototypes."
Mother: "No, they're real enough, both of them, Jane and Elizabeth. Jane admires Elizabeth, and Elizabeth admires herself."
Ellen: "Not true, Elizabeth admires Jane plenty."
Mother: "Really? Where? When you are reading it this time through pay attention to that, show me where, tell me if you still believe it when the book is done. I remember liking Pride and Prejudice, only wishing that it could be told from Jane's point of view which you and your father would say would make for a very dull book."
WOW! The mother's thoughts hit it right on the head for me. The mother was saying these things because she was a "Jane" through and through, who had been dismissed by both her husband and her daughter because of her "Janeness", just as Elizabeth does dismiss Jane in the book. I am a mix of Elizabeth and Jane and I want both sides of me and all different women to be appreciated and allowed to express themselves fully and not be deemed second class, no matter their lifestyle choice. I don't want any woman to ever be second fiddle.
I realize that there are few who would agree with me, but it is nice to come out and admit how I feel and the wish I have that this book and others (not necessarily Little Women, I think more balance is offered there, though it is still slanted) would give more balanced weight to every women's choice, even if it might be the conventional choice or the choice society dictates. Jane was happy to be a sweet and domestic creature and there is nothing wrong with that happiness.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Resources
I am very blessed. With the travel issues I experienced on my flights to and from England and a couple of other situations that have arisen this week, I realize just how many resources I have at my disposal. Yes, a lot of this is due to being blessed. But a great deal of that has to do with hard work and good choices. Karl is the master of taking care to watch pennies and he is also the king of hard work. He balances this lazy soul well! Because of the work we did early in our marriage and family, we have opportunities and resources now that are often a true godsend. The more I pondered this the other day when I found that I had to fall back on some little utilized, but still available, resources the more I realized that it really is true that the harder you work and the more resources you build, the more it snowballs and the more become available. I know that you are likely all saying "Duh" right now, but this was a real revelation to me. I am now grateful for the hard work and sacrifice that we have made through the years that now allow us to have resources for both ourselves and to offer to others. In fact, I am exceedingly grateful.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Generational memories
I came home over these past couple of weeks. There is no other way to describe it. Even Cardiff had a sense of this, even if that was not necessarily a positive thing. I have always toyed with the idea of genetic memory being carried down somehow through the brains of our ancestors into our brains, but now I believe. And I am grateful. It is a powerful sense of wholeness to come to a place where you have never been and feel as though you belong.
And when you consider the vast amount of generations that have gone before this generation that walks the earth now, it is stunning to consider what memories you may carry forward in your brain. I think that this is why we are here now. I do not believe that this is an accident. With memories comes connection and I believe that we have the opportunity to be more connected to the earth and its places than any people who have ever lived. We have been blessed to love places and peoples and cultures on a level that should make us want to have peace and be connected. And we should feel passionate about this, so many have gone before to open up this gift to you. So...what are you going to do about it? What are you going to do to learn to recognize your connection to the past people and places and then what are you going to do to work to preserve what is important and needs to be carried beyond you?
I know that when I sat and wrote and wrote and wrote in that spooky churchyard the other night, I came to know part of what I need to do. I challenge others to seek out the places of memory for their brain and also set goals to make a difference for that place or people. Let me know your stories of trying this challenge, please.
And when you consider the vast amount of generations that have gone before this generation that walks the earth now, it is stunning to consider what memories you may carry forward in your brain. I think that this is why we are here now. I do not believe that this is an accident. With memories comes connection and I believe that we have the opportunity to be more connected to the earth and its places than any people who have ever lived. We have been blessed to love places and peoples and cultures on a level that should make us want to have peace and be connected. And we should feel passionate about this, so many have gone before to open up this gift to you. So...what are you going to do about it? What are you going to do to learn to recognize your connection to the past people and places and then what are you going to do to work to preserve what is important and needs to be carried beyond you?
I know that when I sat and wrote and wrote and wrote in that spooky churchyard the other night, I came to know part of what I need to do. I challenge others to seek out the places of memory for their brain and also set goals to make a difference for that place or people. Let me know your stories of trying this challenge, please.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Theatre is the correct spelling
I just had to title this blog post with that smarmy title because I feel strongly about the spelling of this word. And I am in England so there.
I am ever so grateful that we took this extra day in Stratford Upon Avon (I love that name). It was a good day. It was a day of feeling more connected to things that I love and that have truly come to define me. I got a message from a friend back in Conifer about a new theatre that they are putting together for the youth of our community and the help they need to pull the set together in time for their imminent opening. In her email plea for help she mentioned the good she has seen for her son Ben during his work in the theatre. This got me to thinking (as if I have not done enough of that the past few days) and I am so grateful for the theatre in my life. I tried to think of what I would be if I had not discovered the theatre at a relatively young age. I was stunned at the fear that filled my entire being at the mere thought of not having the theatre as part of my foundation. Wow. I am so tied to this medium. I owe so much of what I am and what I believe and what I know to the theatre itself and to the works created for the stage. Of course, Shakespeare is such a deep part of this, he not only is part of the theatre, he gave me a love, appreciation, and understanding of words that give my life such meaning and wealth. Rich. That is the word that comes to mind. My life would still have purpose and I would still have belief and many other blessings if I did not have the theatre, but I would not have the depth of richness that fills my soul and gives me wings. And makes me want to inspire others to find their wings as well.
At the core of this all, is still Shakespeare. I know that there are many thoughts and theories about him and his works and whether or not he even wrote the blasted plays and such but I don't care. I am a purist and I am not sorry to be so. I have studied the theories, tasted them and they are not enough to sway me. And being in this place and seeing Richard II performed as part of the RSC has only cemented it all for me. This has been the experience of a lifetime and I am so very blessed to have been given the opportunity to discover Shakespeare while in my youth and to grow up with his words ringing in my ears and heart. And to offer a love of him to one of my children. Oh how I am missing Michayla while I am on this trip. She would have loved this so much. And tonight, I had the perfect spooky set up in the lonely church yard cemetery that she would have eaten up on every level. I look forward to the day when I can return here with her and offer this all to her. She will feel it as deeply as I do.
As we took a boat trip up the Avon today and came up on the Trinity church it occurred to me that when Shakespeare demanded that he be buried so deeply beneath the altar with his curse resting on the slab that covered his body he was feeling great insecurities. He was concerned about being just tossed out with the rubbish, in the bonfire, like everybody else. He became so real to me in that moment. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived and he still lived in fear of being forgotten. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived but he was still a man. He was still sometimes a frightened little boy. He just knew how to express his fears better than most. We all have a way that is ours to express ourselves. A way better than most. We all need to make the most of it. That is what hit me at the end of the day as I sat meditating on a bench under the spire of the Trinity and a full autumn moon with mice rustling through the leaves at my feet and a spider making her web in the bench arm beside me and a wind moaning low in the trees and the doves cooing softly from their perch on the church eaves. I have a voice. I have a way that God wants me to express myself and bring aid and comfort to the few that he puts in my path. I also have the strength to do what God has and will ask of me. And so do you.
I am ever so grateful that we took this extra day in Stratford Upon Avon (I love that name). It was a good day. It was a day of feeling more connected to things that I love and that have truly come to define me. I got a message from a friend back in Conifer about a new theatre that they are putting together for the youth of our community and the help they need to pull the set together in time for their imminent opening. In her email plea for help she mentioned the good she has seen for her son Ben during his work in the theatre. This got me to thinking (as if I have not done enough of that the past few days) and I am so grateful for the theatre in my life. I tried to think of what I would be if I had not discovered the theatre at a relatively young age. I was stunned at the fear that filled my entire being at the mere thought of not having the theatre as part of my foundation. Wow. I am so tied to this medium. I owe so much of what I am and what I believe and what I know to the theatre itself and to the works created for the stage. Of course, Shakespeare is such a deep part of this, he not only is part of the theatre, he gave me a love, appreciation, and understanding of words that give my life such meaning and wealth. Rich. That is the word that comes to mind. My life would still have purpose and I would still have belief and many other blessings if I did not have the theatre, but I would not have the depth of richness that fills my soul and gives me wings. And makes me want to inspire others to find their wings as well.
At the core of this all, is still Shakespeare. I know that there are many thoughts and theories about him and his works and whether or not he even wrote the blasted plays and such but I don't care. I am a purist and I am not sorry to be so. I have studied the theories, tasted them and they are not enough to sway me. And being in this place and seeing Richard II performed as part of the RSC has only cemented it all for me. This has been the experience of a lifetime and I am so very blessed to have been given the opportunity to discover Shakespeare while in my youth and to grow up with his words ringing in my ears and heart. And to offer a love of him to one of my children. Oh how I am missing Michayla while I am on this trip. She would have loved this so much. And tonight, I had the perfect spooky set up in the lonely church yard cemetery that she would have eaten up on every level. I look forward to the day when I can return here with her and offer this all to her. She will feel it as deeply as I do.
As we took a boat trip up the Avon today and came up on the Trinity church it occurred to me that when Shakespeare demanded that he be buried so deeply beneath the altar with his curse resting on the slab that covered his body he was feeling great insecurities. He was concerned about being just tossed out with the rubbish, in the bonfire, like everybody else. He became so real to me in that moment. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived and he still lived in fear of being forgotten. He was the greatest worker of words who ever lived but he was still a man. He was still sometimes a frightened little boy. He just knew how to express his fears better than most. We all have a way that is ours to express ourselves. A way better than most. We all need to make the most of it. That is what hit me at the end of the day as I sat meditating on a bench under the spire of the Trinity and a full autumn moon with mice rustling through the leaves at my feet and a spider making her web in the bench arm beside me and a wind moaning low in the trees and the doves cooing softly from their perch on the church eaves. I have a voice. I have a way that God wants me to express myself and bring aid and comfort to the few that he puts in my path. I also have the strength to do what God has and will ask of me. And so do you.
It's the little things
Today I walked where Shakespeare walked. I was in his home, I learned about how he lived. I would never have wanted to have lived in that time but I am grateful to be able to see where he was born and lived and learned and died. Although I am a wimp and could never have lived without the comforts that I know today, there is one thing that I wish. As I stood in the gardens where Shakespeare's last house once stood (and should still be standing, but some people are beyond idiots) I found myself wishing that I could be back in his time, just for a few moments so that I could experience the world without the noise that we know today. We are constantly humming and I would love to hear the true stillness that could only be experienced in a time before cars and planes and the hum of electric power. I would love to hear that quiet. But here I am, in his place, where he walked and privileged to witness one of the works of his hands performed around a couple of corners from where he was born. I was called a pilgrim by one of the tour guides we encountered today and that was interesting to roll around in my head. This next stage of my England adventure is rapidly becoming about words. I know that I have written about words many times before but, what can I say, words are what make life worth living.
I think that in many ways it will be the little things that I carry away from this trip that will carry me and enrich my life and the life of my family. The one thing that has been the most fun for me is the origins of words that I have used all of my life but never understood until I saw them in context.
Here is a list of some of the words/phrases that have been most exciting for me to come to an understanding of while on this trip.
Crestfallen - I have read and used this word all of my life, I have even read it in the play Richard II but until I saw it used on stage, I did not realize what it meant. When the loser of a duel of lances falls from his horse, his crest has fallen. He is crestfallen. Cool, huh?
Good night, sleep tight - I have said this to my children a million times over the years but I now know that to sleep tight is to sleep with the ropes of one's beds pulled taut. And if those ropes go slack during the night, a bad night's sleep is inevitable.
Bonfire - Every twenty years, back in the day, they would dig up the cemeteries and burn the bones of the old dead to make room for the newer dead. This was called a "bone fire", it has now become the word bonfire that we use today.
Raining cats and dogs - back in the day, they would place small dogs (terriers) and cats up on the thatch of a house as a way to keep the critter population down. But thatch is slick. Very slick. So when the rain began, those animals began falling off of the roof...thus...raining cats and dogs...
I would love to hear from you. What word/phrase origin is your favorite?
I think that in many ways it will be the little things that I carry away from this trip that will carry me and enrich my life and the life of my family. The one thing that has been the most fun for me is the origins of words that I have used all of my life but never understood until I saw them in context.
Here is a list of some of the words/phrases that have been most exciting for me to come to an understanding of while on this trip.
Crestfallen - I have read and used this word all of my life, I have even read it in the play Richard II but until I saw it used on stage, I did not realize what it meant. When the loser of a duel of lances falls from his horse, his crest has fallen. He is crestfallen. Cool, huh?
Good night, sleep tight - I have said this to my children a million times over the years but I now know that to sleep tight is to sleep with the ropes of one's beds pulled taut. And if those ropes go slack during the night, a bad night's sleep is inevitable.
Bonfire - Every twenty years, back in the day, they would dig up the cemeteries and burn the bones of the old dead to make room for the newer dead. This was called a "bone fire", it has now become the word bonfire that we use today.
Raining cats and dogs - back in the day, they would place small dogs (terriers) and cats up on the thatch of a house as a way to keep the critter population down. But thatch is slick. Very slick. So when the rain began, those animals began falling off of the roof...thus...raining cats and dogs...
I would love to hear from you. What word/phrase origin is your favorite?
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