Kathy's Moors

On Language and Blogging

2011-04-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

I am having some thoughts about what it means to blog well. As an intermediate blogger at best, I ask myself, what is required to blog skillfully and poignantly? How does one best capitalize on his or her own faculties of language to capture a moment, a scene, a figure? Good writing, it seems uses language aptly, specifically, precisely without sounding overly discursive. Am I capable of reaching this level of blogging mastery? This will be a long road for me.

I want to convey ideas in relatable terms that precisely capture my ideas, but I stumble through my limited, internal lexicon. In this moment, as I type along - click - click - click - my brain gropes for exactly the right word while I wonder, is anyone reading this? Does anyone relate to this? In this vast sea of cyberspace, does my diction even matter? I can't help but wonder if I am projecting some clumsy form of myself into a vast, electronic nothingness. Do other bloggers struggle with these same questions and internal restrictions? Restrictions of language? Restrictions of ideas? Restrictions of thought?

Tonight I read Twain's quote and remember that all writers must, to some extent feel this way.

“The difference between the right word and almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.”

Language can expand us, astound us, change us or it can bind us in its web. I want to break through that web and control my use of language so that my blogs are vibrant and vital. So, I continue to wait for those inspirational moments and hope that maybe once in a while I can capture one in just the right way. I'll keep working for that.

Running in Circles

2011-03-27T08:14:00.000-07:00

If you don't live in northern California you may not be aware of the pounding we've received lately from a string of unrelenting storms. We've already lost part of our fence and when I asked Phil last week if he knew the location of our trash can, he replied, "We put it away."

"We did?"

"You did, right?"

"Nope."

One more quick survey of the street revealed it's location - four houses down, across the street, lid open, lying in the wet gutter - GOAL.

We're all wet up here. I guess I'm telling you this because it's been nearly impossible to get outside and complete my training for my upcoming half marathon run/walk. Last week, I threw caution to the wind, literally and trained outside despite the elements. I think I mentioned my response to that decision on my Facebook status. Pelted with wind and rain, freezing my ears off, with several miles to go, I felt overcome by the intimate and intense peace of God.

This week, I tried a more, er...creative training method. I woke up and remembered that our local mall opens early for walkers. Why not train inside this week? I don't know the distance of a lap around the big place, but I have a fairly good sense of my fifteen minute mile. This week I had to complete seven of those suckers. After calling the Galleria to confirm that they do indeed host walkers in the morning, I made my decision and was off.

What a strange way to train! I found myself circling the mall, virtually alone, with the exception of the occasional low-spirited security guard or members of the cleaning crew peppered throughout the building buffing and scrubbing, no doubt in anticipation of the day's crowds.

The strangest part of this experience? During my run, I felt this uncanny sense of expedited window shopping. As the theme from Rocky trumpeted through my headphones, I raced past the glossy pink mannequins of Wet Seal (It's so hard now) past the cloud-like poofs of Pottery Barn Kids' Beatrix Potter quilts (getting strong now), Popcornopolis now in my rear view, (gonna fly), pondering the mosquito netting-like cylindrical lamps above the food court, (FLY) and back around to that Nordstrom's pleated skirt (FLY! Bah, bah, BAH!)

I thought about efforts. All my efforts. The mall is a funny place. In the right context, it can offer the same spiritual reflective space as a cloister. As I struggled to complete seven miles with some semblance of grace, I thought about the things for which we all strive. The mall stands as a haunting symbol of society's efforts to possess the Pottery Barn, Express, Nordstrom's, Gap life. I am no exception and too often fall victim to this great illusion, but on this morning - in these moments, I also found great irony in the emptiness of our palatial mall. It was just a little glimpse, but a penetrating one for me.

Cease striving and know that I am God.

Psalm 46:10

Hallelujahs and Hot Dog on a Stick

2010-12-19T21:34:00.001-08:00

Don't know if I'm actually going to attend tomorrow's highly publicized secret flash mob event at our local mall. Supposedly, our city's choral society will sing an impromptu version of Handel's Messiah - the Hallelujah Chorus to be exact. Do I wish to navigate the vast crowd of suburbanites who will flood the Galleria Food Court to witness this event?

After viewing a youtube video of a similar event in Toronto, Canada my response is an emphatic "yes". I was so moved by this youtube video (link below).

I don't know if you're like me - I live in a sleepy suburban town where life is so easy that I often find myself searching for meaning beneath the sidewalks, school buses and strip mall fronts. As a tiny little resident of a gigantic American dream-like sprawl, it's easy for me to feel lost in the land of the generic and homogenized. But as I watched this youtube video tonight I was reminded of something. Christ reigns.

Check out some of these words...

For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, Hallelujah!

King of kings and Lord of lords.

And He shall reign forever and ever, Hallelujah!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

There we will be, holding our shopping bags from Macy's or William Sonoma, maybe munching on Hot Dog On a Stick, thinking about, oh, I don't know, our Christmas lists, the parking lot, our tired feet, etc.

And then we will hear it - the voices of ordinary people singing the deep and profound truths of God's love.

These words affirm what I know to be true in the deepest recesses of my heart. There is a truth, a divine truth that supersedes my silly little prosaic life. And at the same time, God is in me, reigning. My Meaning is here and it brings real, hot tears to my eyes. Lord, thank you for your grace, your transcendence, your victory over the mundane and the meaningless. I want to live my life for You.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE

2010-05-31T17:17:00.001-07:00

School is out and blogging season has begun for me. I must admit that my blog and I have much to catch up on...trying to figure out where to begin. Shall I focus on my recent traumatic experience of viewing "Food Inc."? Shall I focus on the status of our adoption and the Everest of paperwork that comes with it? Shall I focus on the reasons why a woman like me, decides (despite the advice of friends and family) NOT to apply for a higher paying position in the school district? Maybe it's just this for now - I'm kicking up my feet and watching a few movies and cleaning a few rooms and chilling, just chilling. Thanks, dear blog for letting me post my thoughts onto your open, receptive little face. I'll get back soon...

First and Last

2009-05-10T16:48:00.000-07:00

Kitten watches the ice cube dissolve

Swallowed by the surrounding water

of his steel saucer

He sees

the skeletal crystal shell

carve its clockwise course

and spiral from the center out

to the edges.

He stares, fixates

as the tiny frozen sliver clings to the side of his dish for

that final second when

the last remnants of its cloudy matrix disappear into nothingness

His hollow eyes search inquisitively for the substance of

what once was.

I share his first experience with endings.

Why I Said "No" to Buying a Blackberry

2009-05-10T16:39:00.000-07:00

"In writing the short novel Fahrenheit 451 I thought I was describing a world that might evolve in four or five decades. But only a few weeks ago, in Beverly Hills one night, a husband and wife passed me, walking their dog. I stood staring after them, absolutely stunned. The woman held in one hand a small cigarette-package-sized radio, its antenna quivering. From this sprang tiny copper wires which ended in a dainty cone plugged into her right ear. There she was, oblivious to man and dog, listening to far winds and whispers and soap-opera cries, sleep-walking, helped up and down curbs by a husband who might just as well not have been there. This was not fiction."- Ray Bradbury, 1960

Is it too late for me to back-paddle?

Finding God in the Thin Place

2009-02-13T21:14:00.000-08:00

Tony Campolo speaks about meeting God in the thin place. The idea originated from the early Celtic Christians and can be defined in the following way:

Thin Places are those spaces in life where the veil between the holy and the ordinary becomes very thin…to the point that we experience an intense, intimate connection with the living God.

Although we know that God is with us all the time, the type of intimate experience found in the thin place is cultivated through disciplined, meditative, selfless prayer, requiring our relinquishment of worldly things and our active acknowledgement of God's grace.

Madame Guyon also describes this fellowship of the inner life:
The greatest difficulty you will have in waiting upon the Lord has to do with your mind. The mind has a very strong tendency to stray away from the Lord. Therefore, as you come before the Lord to sit in his presence, beholding him, make use of the Scripture to quiet your mind...The Lord once promised to come and make his home within you (John 14:23). He promised there to meet those who worship him and do his will. The Lord will meet you in your spirit. It was St. Augustine who once said that he has lost much time in the beginning of his Christian experience by trying to find the Lord outwardly rather than by turning inwardly.

I think my own search for the thin place probably starts with a deep, contemplative honesty with myself - an honesty that forces me to confront the sin in my life and lay it all at the feet of Jesus. I must surrender my cynicism and drop the defenses that I have systematically built over a lifetime and open myself to a disciplined practice of the presence of God. I know that God's chief desire is to reveal himself to us and I want to leave behind everything that will impede that process.

Our spiritual home belongs in the thin place. When Jesus died the veil between the holy and the ordinary was torn and a way was made for us to approach the personality of God. The Lord gives us the experience of enjoying His presence! He draws us to Himself and in that light, my own self is overshadowed and lost in His mighty love.

How to Make Lancer Salad in One Easy Step

2009-01-03T15:04:00.000-08:00

We may be purchasing a new car sooner than we expected. Phil and I were in an accident a few days ago and our little Mitsubishi Lancer now resides in the local body shop getting an assessment. We are waiting to hear about whether or not they will pronounce it a "totaled" vehicle.

The experience was traumatic as we were driving to meet some friends for lunch and crashed into the side of an older lady's car. Phil watched her not look to her left (as we approached her from that side) and she pulled through her stop sign. We didn't have a stop sign. The last thing I remember before we hit her was seeing her white car pulling forward directly in front of us and Phil saying, "She's not looking!" And then the sound of skidding tires, a hubcap flying through the air and this eerie crashing sound as metal hit metal. I think we spun a bit too, but it gets hazy at this point. Scary.

Later, the lady called us to apologize, which was a very sweet gesture. At this point, her insurance company is assuming the responsibility, which we think is appropriate.

It was weird. Immediately after the accident, we were walking around and seemed to feel OK, but in the days following, this weird stiffness set in with both of us. Our doctor told us to wait and see. Bummer. We have both been training for a half marathon and we have to put that on hold for a while.

It was funny though. Throughout the entire experience, I didn't think about God's presence in it and that bothers me.

Zen and the Art of Post-Holiday Clean-Up

2009-01-01T10:54:00.000-08:00

Phil and I have been deliberating over the true meaning of Christmas. Phil (a self-proclaimed Scrooge) believes that the extraneous messages attached to this sacred holiday (in the form of Norman Rockwell paintings, Hallmark cards and even Dickens's "A Christmas Carol") combine to make up the chimera that interlopes on the Advent season. This gluttonous monster, subtly sneaks in and imposes its humanistic philosophies on what should be a carefully guarded and authentic Christ-centered holiday.

Contrary to my husband, I am the gal who excitedly sets up and adorns the precious *Wal-Mart artificial Christmas tree, hangs the red furry stockings (bought on clearance some years ago) with joyful expectation and throws twinkling lights on just about everything that needs a little razzle dazzle. So...you can probably imagine how our conversations go every year at around this time.

But today as I am taking down the tree, I find that this is actually the period of the holidays that I treasure most - the clean-up. It's at this point when I can bask in the zen-like experience of minimizing. After every bauble is lovingly put back into the Rubbermaid box, I will dust, vacuum and place a single solitary white candle on the coffee table. Surprisingly, this is the environment that cultivates real focus on things that matter most - the spirituality that inherently comes with simplicity. This must be a piece of Phil's argument. We must challenge ourselves to cut through the distractions (even when they are well-intended) and focus on the unmistakable and profound meaning of the incarnate Christ. During this frenzied season (exacerbated by the idol of American consumerism), we must not allow ourselves to be misdirected on this critical point: God's love is interacting with us and in this season we celebrate its inception. Profound. Simple. More than enough.

*We bought this tree at Wal-Mart some years ago. We no longer purchase products from this chain. Email me if you want the details.

Reflections from a London Cyber Cafe

2008-06-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

Tired tonight...Phil and I are sitting in a cyber cafe in London and are enjoying the first real break from our busy tour.

I have some new reflections about this trip that have arisen from spending time with these very special, wonderfully gifted kids. I now feel that this is an equally important experience, despite the fact that we have served in no soup kitchens, led no worship, or performed no puppet shows.

I look into the faces of these kids and I know that what we are doing is important. It's all about the relationships, isn't it? If God relentlessly pursues relationship with us, must we not pursue it with each other? I pray that our kids see a little bit of God in Phil and me.

Chasing Heaven with Chili's on My Heels

2008-06-14T07:53:00.000-07:00

Phil and I are preparing to take some high school students to England. The trip is an extension of my AP Literature class for seniors. First, they read the novels in class and now they will visit the actual settings where many of these stories take place. Really, it's going to be the ultimate tourist experience. We are traversing over England's hills and dales on a tour bus and stopping at London, Bath, Stratford on Avon, Haworth, Oxford, and the Lake District. And despite this ambitious schedule, one of my most important goals is merely to catch a glimpse of Ricky Gervais throwing back a beer in some London pub. Anyway, this trip is somewhat of an anomaly for Phil and me. It's the first one we've ever taken for sheer entertainment value. In the past, we have traveled the globe only on mission trips of various sorts; we have either built houses, danced our heads off on some city street and then asked bystanders their opinion so that we could talk to them about Jesus (it's true), or we might have headed up some local Vacation Bible School where we led music, painted flowers on children's cheeks, or performed puppet shows all in the name of love.

And now, here we are preparing for more of a self-indulgent journey..kind of weird - and I must admit I'm feeling a bit conflicted.

It seems that my life in this Roseville suburb holds similar conflicts for me, but on a larger scale. I am continually tossed back between the prayer-centered and self-centered lifestyle; sometimes it seems to me that it's downright lukewarm. Ally Sheedy's profound wisdom in The Breakfast Club haunts me regularly. She mused, "When you grow up, your heart dies." I don't want this to happen to me as I exist in this suburban world where everything I want or need is super accessible and can be served up to me on a Pottery Barn platter - over-easy.

C.S. Lewis considers this quandary that creeps upon us in the middle-age years. In his work, The Screwtape Letters, his scheming demon, observes:

"If...the middle years prove prosperous, our position is even stronger. Prosperity knits a man to the World. He feels that he is 'finding his place in it', while really it is finding its place in him. His increasing reputation his widening circle of acquaintances, his sense of importance, the growing pressure of absorbing and agreeable work, build up in him a sense of being really at home in earth, which is just what we want. You will notice that the young are generally less unwilling to die than the middle-aged and the old."

Damn! It seems that Screwtape and a few of his minions have set up camp somewhere near me. Perhaps they have taken the form of some of the servers at the Chili's restaurant across the street. I thought there was a knowing air about those busboys.

God, keep my face focused towards you, because in the end - everything else will be gone: piping hot awesome blossoms, high thread count sheets, charity fun runs, Nordstrom's Rack, my town, my vacation spots and my cup of coffee on this desk. It's all nothing really...and if I direct my energies into prayer and cultivate spiritual things, will this relationship with You, not outlast it all? It surely MUST.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made...

2008-06-10T17:33:00.000-07:00

Barbie Doll by Marge Piercy

This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.

She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.

She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.

In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending.

I knew a girl who became a nun and she wasn't allowed to use a mirror. Even though this rule seems a bit restrictive to me, there is something sort of liberating about it. I am so glad that God values me because I am his kid...a simple enough concept as I type it here, but I must continually drill it into my thick, thick, Americanized noggin.