People say that California--especially Southern California--has only two seasons: 'Summer' and 'Colder Summer.' While they have a point, they aren't entirely correct. When Fall arrives here, you feel it. It doesn't slowly show up on trees; it's not gradual. Fall seems to be immediate. There will be a morning (like this morning) when you'll walk out the door and you'll feel it in the air and taste it when you inhale; it's like biting into an apple. But if you're not paying attention, you'll miss it, and that's why it's my favorite time of year.

songwriting class

A lyric sample from the songwriting class i teach at ASD:

'Love is young, love is old
It makes you fearful and bold
Love you'll take to the grave
Makes you scared, makes you brave.'

Our band is called The August Apples. Look for the debut album sometime...soon. When we buy a microphone.

A lot of people pooh-pooh the LA County Fair, but today I:

-Ate the best turkey leg of all time.

-Saw the fattest pig that ever lived.

-Almost bought a Sham-Wow.

-Saw a poster-sized needle-point portrait of Michael Jackson.

-Tried to figure out a way to steal this little guy to my left.

But I still couldn't convince anyone to ride the Tilt-a-Whirl with me.  

gustate et videte? gustate et videte.

-I was reading this book on my mom's kindle about being the 'marrying type.'  My motivation in reading it was, admittedly, flawed: read it, so I could consequently be angry that such a book exists and justifiably think things like: 'Who is this person to tell me these things?! There's nothing wrong with me! Just because i'm 26 and completely single doesn't mean i'm not the 'marrying type!'

Anyhow, in the middle of doling out terrible (read: 'actually pretty good') advice like: 'protect your heart,' and 'keep Jesus first in your life,' and 'God's got a plan,' and 'singlehood is useful' (There's another novel of a blog just waiting to be written), the author said something that has since stuck. In speaking about finding a mate, she mentioned that marriage relationships are most successful when those in them are part of the same 'spiritual weight class.' I begrudgingly agreed wholeheartedly. Then I sighed and got a little sad.

-I celebrated my 2-year anniversary with Arts and Services for Disabled yesterday. It's been a quick, full, heart-healing two years. I've learned things I never knew were there to learn, made many wonderful friends, and rediscovered the magic and absolute necessity of creativity in my time at ASD. And, on the coattails of the burgeoning nostalgia, my boss' boss called to ask me to present our little silent film project at the Western Region Association of Music Therapy Conference at the Queen Mary in March. My palms are already sweaty.

-Speaking of the silent movie, check this out: 'Love is in the Air'

-I'm reading 'The Cloud of Unknowing.'  I'm also reading 'Tarantula' by Bob Dylan. One is much better than the other. Hazard a guess.

On Pelicans and Promises

Today on the way to work, God told me he loved me through a pelican.
And I was once again reminded that His ways are higher than mine.
And that sometimes, there is action in inaction, and magic in patience.

My sister got home yesterday. Very glad i was to see her. (Yoda.)
She brought me a letter from one of the girls at the academy, Yanga.
In it, Yanga--an orphan, who grew up in a township--encouraged me to read James 1:2-4:

'Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete--needing nothing. '

Then she asked me how she could be praying for me.
Feels good to get schooled by a 14-year old.

The Gladdening Light

Usually at dusk, at sunset--my favorite time, when my soul's nerve endings all seem to be lit up--during my silence, I am led to a room. a plain, wooden-paneled room. dark, but not without lightness. Warm. Regal. Plain. I come through a door to find the beloved three sitting at a plain, sturdy table. Jesus, with a full, rich, dark beard and smiling, knowing, slightly sad eyes. It's on him my eyes are fixed, but the other two are there. The Father is all light and power and brightness and bigness. Sometimes He laughs--a great, booming, thunderous thing at which I myself never know whether to laugh or to cry. He seems relaxed there. almost jolly. And the Spirit, who has ushered me in and goes with me when I leave, seems to be nothing more than a shimmer. or a disturbance of light, like the bending of heat waves on a desert oasis or those bright stars you see when you close your eyes and rub them. Mysterious, beautiful, and surprisingly constant.

These Beloved are enjoying a meal off wooden plates and cups.  They always invite me to join them. And I do. And we sit. We commune. I hear them smile and laugh at the goings-on that delight them, And I feel just a bit of their immense joy. I hear them sigh and speak together in concerned tones about what saddens them, and I feel a bit of their sadness. But in the end, they always turn their smiles, their light, and their beauty upon me, kiss my cheek, make the sign of the cross on my forehead, and tell me to go out, remembering who they've made me to be, mindful of my salvation, and sure of their love for me. And I turn toward the door, which is almost bursting from the banging, and knocking, and pushing of all that waits beyond this peace, trying to distract me, trying to turn my attention away from these beloved Three. but they don't send me alone. They will see me tomorrow, but until then, that shimmer of knowledge, that wind of conviction and assurance will walk before, beside, and behind me. Leading my steps and holding my hand, for I shall not walk alone.

Amen and Amen.

Addie, Meet Bacon

It was a good first impression.


Also: -I ran over a possum on my way home tonight. i felt equal parts proud and squeamish. -I'm still looking for a record player. grandpa threw his out in 1990. -I had a dream about the island last night circa 2002. It made me surprisingly nostalgic. I'm really looking forward to going home this weekend and raiding my mom's library. -This was the first time in many moons I've missed an office, but I figure I spent it with a good gift rather than just meditating on one. -Being an Aunt is maybe the most fun I've ever had. -Brother Sun burned me today. About time he showed up. -'My worship is a blue sky and ten thousand crickets in the deep wet hay of the field. my vow is the silence under their song.' --Thomas Merton, Monday dawn antiphon

I'm reading Hildegard of Bingen.  It's what i imagine a really intense LSD trip is like...only holy, and true. and crazy.

I love it when my dad comes home around midnight from working swing shift. He always smells like the sea and looks like a salty dog. It reminds me of when i was little, and we were night-birds together.

Sometimes i miss being small. Probably because sometimes I still feel small.

'Paul says in 1 Corinthians that God has chosen the weak, the foolish, and the crazy to shame the clever and the powerful; he has chosen the most despised, the people right at the bottom of society. through this teaching we see a vision unfold in which a pyramid of hierarchy is changed into a body, beginning at the bottom. One might ask if that means Jesus loves the weak more than the strong. No; that is not it. the mystery of people with disabilities is that they long for authentic and loving relationships more than power. They are not obsessed with being well-situated in a group that offers acclaim and promotion. They are crying for what matters most: love. and God hears their cry because in some way they respond to the cry of God, which is to give love. '--from 'Living gently in a violent world: The prophetic witness of weakness' by Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche

At work today, one of my (favorite) students reaches out to me and says:

'I thought that was a Mary Beth...it is a Mary Beth! I like a Mary Beth.'

To which I reply: 'Hey, thanks. I like you too.'

He reaches his hands out to me.

I say: 'Yes? Were you after something else?'

He thinks for a minute, then says: 'Yes.'

I say: 'What do you need?'

... ... ...


'I want you to give me a kiss.'

And my heart grows a little bit bigger.

Hi Blog,
I promise I'm not intentionally ignoring you.
I'm just reading so many good books and spending so much time editing a silent film, and watching so many sunsets, and meeting so many brand-new babies, and spending so much time in the waves, and listening to so much good music and getting so many new freckles, and playing so much guitar, and singing so many songs, and eating so much watermelon, and learning so many amazing things that I've been a little preoccupied. I'll be back, sometime.
Truly, I'm sorry.

Love,
Me

God
and I have become
like two giant fat people living
in a tiny
boat.

We
keep bumping into
each other
and laughing

-hafiz

Adelaide Tess Eroen

9.5 lbs, 21.5 inches.
Healthy, happy, and hungry!!!

When you ask to be the hands and feet, you have to be prepared.

Being His hands may mean getting yours dirty.

Being His feet may mean staying put.

Much-Afraid and Me

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I became afraid.
Much-Afraid.
I'd like to be unafraid now.

--MBE, July 2008

When I was young, my family had an illustrated copy of 'Hinds' Feet on High Places.' I loved to sit in my room, looking it over again and again...I remember the depiction of Jesus so clearly because to me, he looked like my father--full dark beard, and hairy legs.

The main character, Much-Afraid, is a crippled girl with a crooked mouth. She lives her life unfulfilled and desiring much more. She meets the 'Shepherd,' who tells her he will take her out of her home in the 'Valley of Humiliation,' to a new home in the 'High Places.' He tells her he will give her a new name and heal her sadness, and she joyfully accepts his offer. 7-year old me is thinking: 'This is great! It's happening for Much-Afraid just like it happened for me. Meet Jesus. Learn about Heaven. Accept the offer. Life is great. Go to Heaven.'

But when the Shepherd introduces Much-Afraid to her travelling companions--'Sorrow' and 'Suffering,' 7-year old me feels confused. Why would Jesus deliberately put her in the company of pain? Of sadness? How is that love? And even worse, the Shepherd leaves Much-Afraid to travel alone with Sorrow and Suffering. Is he abandoning her?

We can feel pain coming on. We know when it's approaching, and we avoid it. Systematically, instinctively. How backward of the Shepherd to ask her to travel alongside it...letting it match her step for step.

Much-Afraid travels with Sorrow and Suffering, and though they stay close and offer to hold her hand as she journeys through the craggy mountains, Much-Afraid doesn't accept their help. In the end, it takes some interference from some nasty relatives to push Much-Afraid into the helpful embrace of Suffering and Sorrow.

As I grew, I sometimes found myself thinking about Much-Afraid's travel buddies. In the moments when I found myself experiencing the kind of pain that took my breath away, or cradling the sort of heartbreak I thought people were always exaggerating, I remembered Much-Afraid's story, and her unlikely companions. Who better to walk with? Who better to learn from? In some reckless part of my heart, I cherish their company. When I find myself reaching out to embrace my own Sorrow, and my own Suffering, I feel myself moving forward. Taking steps toward my own high places, where I arrive unafraid.

I went to Africa.

I loved Africa.

But look what I found out about while I was in Africa:

Behold: a reason to stay put.

Just call me 'Auntie.'

The Wait

"Then he took his hands and placed them on my shoulders, peered straight into my eyes and said, 'I hope you'll hear what I'm about to tell you. I hope you'll hear it all the way down to your toes. When you're waiting, you're not doing nothing. You're doing the most important something there is. You're allowing your soul to grow up. If you can't be still and wait, you can't become what God created you to be." --Sue Monk Kidd

today at arts and services, as i was chasing my favorite student around the program, trying to stop him from breaking every instrument in sight, i had a thought:

this guy has the sweetest life.

sure, he's got down syndrome. sure he'll never fall in love, or get married, or become a parent, or own his own home, but he has people who love him (including me), a home cooked meal in front of him thrice a day, clothes on his back, and a smile on his face. the best part of his day is when he gets to take a walk and play on a jungle gym. every new thing is a wonder to him--every rock, every sandwich, every smile and every new song he hears on the radio he seems so intent on breaking. he's peter pan; he never has to grow up.

i'm not saying it's preferable; i know that not all people like him are as lucky.
but maybe he's the recipient of a specific type of grace. i can only imagine the types of interactions he has with God. those are conversations i'd love to hear.