Month: October 2009 (Page 3 of 6)

wednesday is the new monday

back in the day i had mondays off, which was a nice way to ease into the week – a chance to make sure the house was in check, relax a little bit, get done what i didn’t finish on the weekend. today, because of poor planning and communication on jj and I’s part, i was at home all day (because at 9:30 last night we realized we didn’t have a sitter), so it kinda felt monday-ish, but here it was wednesday! also because i was out of town monday and tuesday and when you’re removed from your element it seems as if days disappear or really just don’t happen at all while you’re away. so i had to continually tell myself it was not monday, it was wednesday.

and i didn’t really do too much catching up. finished an ad script for an upcoming commercial, which had been brewing in my head for almost 2 weeks but i finally got it down in script form. made a pumpkin cheesecake, which turned out well in terms of flavor and got a “c” in the looks catagory. not just a crack, but a large divit… maybe next time i will try the waterbath. but excellent flavor.

had a good day with the kiddo, too. it’s interesting – obviously i missed him while i was away, but i was kept so busy that i didn’t have a chance to think through what he was doing at home without me. so when i was driving home from the airport is when i missed him the most – i just couldn’t wait to see him. of course, he was in bed when i got home. but we got to hang out and catch up today. he’s now making kissy smack noises with his lips. adorable. we’re going to have to work on blowing kisses.

back in the day when i had to leave for events a lot, coming home was much more difficult. jj and i would fight like crazy upon my return, which is a bit backward. you’re supposed to miss each other and just be glad to be home, right? but not so with us. i think part of it was that i was away and i didn’t miss “normal” life – i missed jj and seeing him, but when it came time for dinner, the empty chair wasn’t glaring at me in the face. so it was pretty easy on my end, but not the one that had to stay home. fortunately there wasn’t any arguing after i arrived home this time, so maybe we’ve grown out of it. we’re more mature now. or jj just has enough of his own stress that he didn’t notice i was gone.

speaking of, we’re on a countdown until he’s done with this semester. thank goodness. i need some consistency in my life. and him to be home at a reasonable hour. i’ll be so glad when the semester is over. as will he (probably even more so). until then we trudge forward. and nothing makes a trudge bearable like pumpkin cheesecake.

g’night, all.

presence and presents

**spoiler alert** it’s very likely i’ll give away parts of the soloist in this post. predictable? yes. but still… if you like to experience “for yourself” before reading, be forewarned.

i’ll be the first to say that i know little to nothing about art. beautiful things are just beyond me. i can appreciate pretty things, but typically i miss the point. i remember one time hearing an amatuer (but talented) artist acquaintence talk about how the lyrics to a song he wrote might be misunderstood when paired by the actual music we hear. apparently when you heard that particular riff, it would (in a normal, art-sensitive person) conjure some sort of feeling that would make you think something contrary to what the lyrics were saying. i had nothing. i didn’t get how it didn’t really go. but i’m living in an awareness of my art ignorance and it is helping. hi, my name is michele, and i’m an art idiot.

tonight we watched the soloist and i was struck by the undercurrents. the main storyline, that jamie foxx is a schizophrenic, homeless, amazing cellist is nice. good box office sell. but if you ask me all the streams that fed the river is what make it worth watching. the first theme was the role of God, or faith throughout the movie. i have no idea what it was about. really. it was lost to me (maybe because they said it artistically?), so i’d welcome some commentary on what was trying to be established. it was a seemingly unfriendly tone, but i can’t figure out why.

most provocative to me was the human (american) reaction to the situation. when the journalist comes across foxx’s situation he feels compelled to help. a good, normal, healthy response. some woman donates a cello so he makes sure foxx gets it, along with setting him up with a mental group home. he tries for an apartment, lessons, eventually even medication and anything else he thinks would fix foxx’s situation. the city even follows suit, pledging kaboodles of money for the poor section of town. we see how that translates later when it’s raided, someone arrested for the illegal possession of a milk crate.

the way the journalist attempts to help is nice. and his response is probably a stone’s throw to my own. but it becomes glaringly obvious when foxx shows up at the workplace that the journalist’s desire to help has certain limits. he’s willing to lend a hand as long as it happens on foxx’s turf, away from the safety of his own comfortable and manageable life. the journalist sleeps on the street one night and can feel good about himself but when foxx shows up in the civilized world, the lines are drawn.

the journalist, like 98% of our population, is willing to give of stuff. willing to care to a limit. but what foxx wants, needs, is a relationship with a level playing field. someone that will listen – not just to fix, but to experience. isn’t that what all our good friends do? i mean, my best friends will surely offer advice (both solicitied and not – and i love them for it), not because they want to fix me, but because they love me. and then they walk with me.

and maybe that’s what the artistic theme throughout the movie was doing. it levels the playing field. when beethoven is present it doesn’t really matter your income or family status or even your ability to distinguish real voices from hallucinations. it’s something beyond ourselves, something we cannot grasp or conquer or claim for our own – it is to be shared.

hmm… now i’m wondering if the remarks about God throughout the movie were trying to expose the backward state of our religious movements. like music, God levels the playing field. He loves those who do right as much as He loves those who do wrong. i heard a great teaching this week about how God loves the people who (we think) have no reason to be loved. he loves them more, probably, than those of us who think we deserve to be loved. God is something beyond ourselves, something we cannot grasp or conquer or claim for our own – He is to be shared. maybe when the ultra-religious tutor was praying over foxx it was exposing our attempts to use God as a way to conquer rather than an opportunity to level and be present.

so now comes the hard part. if i’m being asked to live in a way that invites others in and levels the playing field; if i’m being challenged to give more than my stuff or my money but of myself, tell me: what does that look like? shall we all start scouring main street for out-of-sorts musicians? do i sign up to serve the local shelter so i can find me a “lesser” person to love?

i don’t think it’s about finding a project. when it was an article, the journalist had lines. when it’s a “volunteer opportunity” there are lines. but there is something to be said for putting myself in new places to experience people who are not like me. to open my eyes- not so that i become a better person, but to love someone, because there are lots of people who need to feel and know they are loved. because when we listen to music it becomes clear at a heart level that we’re the same and we should treat each other that way.

there is a brighter side.

thank you, david crowder, for yet another epiphany.

today didn’t start well. i think it’s sinus pressure, but H woke up very upset and not so willing to go back to sleep. after haphazard running around, finding biz cas clothes that fit and trying to straighten kinked hair, i got to work barely on time. then in chronological order of frustration:
1. computer won’t load with my local profile. no bookmarks, no shortcuts to documents and i had interviews. great.
2. jj called to say he spilled coffee on the laptop and it wasn’t working. super great.
3. the account manager for one of my accounts called to say that instead of a 2-day trip to DC he wanted to know if i could be gone all week.

stomp on my pinky toe, would ya?

so i found myself throwing a solitary pity party, at times with tears, with all the overwhelmingness that has been life lately. my mundane task of the day (which i am really enjoying) finally called for some tunes. enter: david crowder.

so i got to thinking about how i have to take it one day at a time. somehow or another i thought “just get through today”. but then i remembered last night. i “got through” last night but didn’t enjoy it. i remembered going to bed and being very disappointed, not so much in H’s bad night but in my reaction to it. so, i decided i want more from life than just “getting through.”

as i have previously droned on and on about, donald miller in his new book talks about story as an image for life. there’s a part where it talks about playing the victim. KLM and i have had several discussions about a related topic. granted, there are times in life where things are uncontrollable. we can’t (despite my repeated efforts) control everything. BUT. we can control how we react to it. we can control what we let it do to us. we can control if we let it control us.

then i heard david singing the title of his first CD (back before he was dc*b but rather ” the university baptist praise band”): “And this is all that I can say right now // And this is all that I can give” (complete song). And it goes on “I didn’t notice You were standing here /I didn’t know that /That was You holding me /I didn’t notice You were cry’n too /I didn’t know thatThat was You was/hing my feet

so i decided. right then. i don’t have to have it all together. things won’t always go great. but i don’t have to slog through the day as if i have no light in my life. i do. i can make decisions about how i can react to things that frustrate me. there’s no need to let the bad days have the last word because there is something bigger.

and so the day ended much better.

1. mark saved the day again. computer dried, all is well. someone give this guy a coke.
2. i decided i can travel for 2 days but not 5. i’m part time and so i do have some freedom in making that decision. so i will.
3. JE supplied a glorious dinner of homemade mexican. with pickles. love her.
4. caught up on blog reading, which brings great joy. can someone PLEASE make me the greenish one on the far right for H?
5. another blogger says, Please remember: magazines may come and go, but a complete absence of confidence is forever. I’m thinking of lovingly cross-stitching that last sentence on a pillow. i’m pretty sure that there are secret gnomes following me around and recording the conversations that i have with KLM because we have joked about that very thing (the cross-stitching). i’m pretty sure we had an ongoing list of top worst things to put on a cross-stitched pillow. not long ago yahoo! published an article on kids and money. KLM and i had previousy decided every single thing on the list. as she texted last friday, “someone should give us a nobel prize – we have great ideas, too!” i replied “yes, with a similar lack of follow through!”

I’m not sure why the cross-stitching topped off my day with a smile, but it did. though there were some roadblocks and slippery points, really it was a good day.

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