Mary was feeling bold that day. She was felt strangely elated and "other", other than herself.

In the airport, she was heading towards her gate on the moving sidewalk when she made eye contact with this guy who was travelling in the opposite direction. This might not be unusual for most people. But for Mary, who usually focused on the heels of the person in front of her or stared ahead, this was ground breaking.

She flushed a deep shade of red and then almost watched herself smile, wink at him and then look forward, teasingly. Her hands shook and she laughed to herself thinking about how weird it was to react so strongly to a second in time, and such a silly second too. But she couldn't stop grinning to herself in the novelty of it.

What she didn't realize was that her glowing secret smile and flushed cheeks made her more beautiful than she had ever been. She could not have expected that the man she had winked at would end up sitting next to her on the plane.

Labels: moments, sighs, story

I have been thinking a lot about grace lately. By grace I'm not referring to poetic movement... But more that part of ourselves that gives extra chances. That sees the damage in all of us, the faultiness, but also sees the potential for great beauty amidst ugliness or unpleasantness, and sometimes because of it.

A friend of mine once described the most incredible thing about her relationship with her husband. She said, "We heal each other every day." And as soppy as that sounds, to me this is grace: this sort of loving that knows the worst but loves anyway.

I need lots of grace from everyone who knows me. I hope I give as good as I get.

I am sometimes scattered and selfish and bold and assuming and emotional and too blunt and hiding and distracted and loud and bawdy and shy and afraid and truly angry about nothing and everything and sometimes, I am just awful.

But I also love deeply and am creative and empathetic and productive and occasionally even nurturing and I laugh easily and truly delight in the people I know since they are all beautiful in indescribable and extremely individual ways and sometimes, I am OK, and I even love myself a little. (Don't worry, I'm not breaking into some awful song at this point... bear with me.)

I just think that we all have these things in us that make us react in ways that sometimes bruise each other or even maim more seriously, that we are sometimes not doing the best we can, but we're doing that crazy dance of forgetfulness or holding it together or being purely selfish or disappointed... Our worst selves are sometimes there and embarrassing and much louder than our best selves.

And we see this worst self in others too and see them doing stupid things and saying stupid things... but that we need to have grace for those moments. And that isn't to say that we let people abuse us or take unkindness... but that we weigh it all out. And when we find that seed of empathy that grows to grace, to express it as sincerely and honestly and with as much healing as we can possibly provide. And other times we defend ourselves without being cruel, because that is just unnecessary.

Because sometimes, the ugliness isn't about the recipient. Sometimes, it's just wounds on display. I think that grace is a beautiful thing.

How this all fits into the big scheme of things, I have no idea. It's just what I was thinking about today. Thanks for listening to the babble.

Labels: being alive, beliefs, grace, interpreting and reinterpreting, moments, the soppiest blog entry *ever*

Yesterday, I waited, on the cold damp green-peeling-painted park bench, for something to happen.

Two dogs passed, ahead of their owner, running together lopsidedly holding the same stick between them. I could smell wet dog. Their owner did not greet me but looked at me strangely as I sat there dripping and drinking a carton of chocolate milk. Perhaps he smelled wet human. I was envious of his umbrella and the way the two dogs lay down their stick in front of him. Asking. I watched them as they rounded the corner away from me and further into the park.

After they were out of sight I looked around hoping for something undefined. But now I could only smell the chilled soggy earth that lies under the graying grass and felt trickles of rain on my scalp, down my head, under my scarf and onto by back. And could only see the misty dead dullness of the sky that seemed unmoving above my head and feel a snot-filled sneeze growing about to unleash itself into my woolly mittened hand.

I forgot my kleenexes, you see.

Labels: being alive, interpreting and reinterpreting, moments, sighs, story

Learning to love you more. This project consists of a series of assignments. People can choose to "Accept this assignment" and then post the results on the site.

I think that this whole concept is lovely on so many different levels; so inspiring and beautiful.
Here are some some of the "assignments" and results:

5. Recreate an object from someone's past.

4. Start a lecture series.

3. Make a documentary video about a small child.

Film called: "Not right now"

2. Make a neighborhood field recording.

1. Make a child's outfit in an adult size.

Stay tuned, because I'm quite in love with the idea... So I may be participating. :) Let me know if you do too.

Labels: ideas for bleak days, interpreting and reinterpreting, moments, other people's stuff, sometimes other people are much more creative than i am. ;)

She reveled in the aloneness and quietness. She passed the pile of laundry in the hall and went into the bathroom.

She filled the tub with hot water and poured in bath salts and then gradually sank into its burning fragrant wetness. Happily, she opened the book that she had been reading well into the night before, after deciding that its possible damp wrinkling or immersion was worth it.

She read for hours, absorbing other people's stories, longing, anger, desire and humor. Occasionally, she refreshed the tub with hot water and welcomed the swirl of heat around her legs and waist. The tips of her fingers and toes became swollen pink raisins and her face beaded with sweat.

And the stillness of the day percolated into sadness about nothing and everything.

Great big drops of it. As if sucking in the water from the tub, meeting with her heart, and emerging in her eyes, down her cheeks, and returning to the salty water again.

Labels: being alive, moments

You sit across from me on the subway, your earbuds and mp3s blocking out the loud silence of the crowded tired workers on their way home.

You have a little knowing smile on your face as you stare out the window and you are unconsciously nodding your head and tapping your feet in time with the music. I don't know what you are listening to, but your happy movements make me hopeful.

As you get off at your stop, I want to touch your arm and thank you for your moment, but I'd feel like I was stealing. I would like a song and moment like yours of my own. But I am listening to REM. Probably a bad choice for a Monday night.

Labels: moments, music, strangers