well well

Merry Christmas! And if you can believe it, things aren't that bad.

Only one random blowup. Lots of goodies, with promises of more goodies. My favorite cherry coke jello salad with HOMEMADE RIBS for dinner. W's idea of having "a project" has paid off.

Still, though, 75 hours to go.

commentary

Updates from the home front.

About a trip to Disney:
"The worst people were the Spanish speakers." - S
"Yeah, daddy, the Spanish and the Orientals!" - L

and, later,

"There were two people cussing up a storm. A guy from New York and some black guy." - S
"Oh, honey, where was the black guy from? Where else are black people from?" - J

unwell

Tomorrow morning I will board the plane, and it will be five days until I get to be happy again.

Oh, I'm not doing well. Not doing well at all. The anxiety finds new holes to seep out, like fresh cracks in the hull of a ship. Besides the eye twitch, which is pretty standard, I have found a new way to be crazy. I don't want to explain it here, but I've never felt more like the tattoo on my back -- circling round on myself, consuming. My lips are bitten raw.

My mother called, thrilled that I'll be home for so long. I wish I could say: this is your present. Don't expect to see me back again until fall.

But that never does anything but maker her cry.

I wonder what a good family is like.

timing

This morning I took a look at the All Souls website, just to see what was new with the church. I haven't made it to church in a while -- a month or more -- and I wanted to check out past sermons, read the newsletter, see any new pictures.

The feeling I got when I loaded up the All Souls website caught me off-guard. A sick rolling in the bottom of my stomach, the same feeling I used to get when I hadn't done my homework in middle school. Guilt, shame, anxiety.

But why did I feel that way? One of the great things about All Souls is that the community doesn't judge if you've vanished for a while. It wasn't that I thought anyone would be upset with me for not showing up; it was that I was upset with myself. My conscience was gnawing at me in a way I hadn't felt it in a while.

I know why I haven't been going to church lately: I've been blowing it off for "more fun" things to do, whether it's sleeping in or going to brunch or nursing a hangover. I've been neglecting a very important piece of my life and development for immediate gratification, a warm bed or a mimosa in the morning. And now, after a month or more, I'm starting to feel the effects.

I went to The Golden Compass this weekend. In that fantasy world, people's souls manifest as animals who travel beside them for their whole lives. Inconvenient at times, sure, but in a way that seems lucky. It's impossible to shoo away your soul when it's hovering around your face or curled up at your feet at night. But with such an intangible soul as ours, neglecting it is as easy as forgetting to do your laundry.

Maybe I'll go to Quaker meeting or yoga this week. I need to get centered; my soul, though it's certainly no beast beside me, is mewling for my attention.

love

God, there is gold hidden deep in the ground
God, there’s a hangman that wants to come around

How we rise when we’re born
like the ravens in the corn
on their wings, on our knees
crawling careless from the sea

God, give us love in the time that we have

God, there are guns growing out of our bones
God, every road takes us farther from home

All these men that you made
how we wither in the shade
of your trees, on your wings
we are carried to the sea

God, give us love in the time that we have