Tarot?

I have never believed in, listened to, or read tarot cards. But I was intrigued after reading Snow on Roses' post.

This just sums up being me - unbelievably, but truly:

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Lovin' Spoonful Friday 5

I confess I love the Lovin' Spoonful because they unabashedly remind me of my dad. I don't know anyone else in the world who listens/ed to them!

Here's the RevGalBlogPals Friday 5:

Think summer......are you there? Below you will find five words or phrases. Tell us the first thing you think of on reading each one. Your response might be simply another word, or it might be a sentence, a poem, a memory, a recipe, or a story. You get the idea:

1. rooftop
Matthew 10:27 (no, really, this was the first thing I thought of) "What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops." I think because I was researching for Wednesday night midweek children's ministry (that's a mouthful) and read that the flat roofs of the Levant were natural places from which to shout.
2. gritty
Food at the beach. Has there ever been a day at the beach when you didn't eat sand? When Wylie was a baby he used to shove whole fistfuls into his mouth. That makes for icky-sticky diapers, let me tell you!
My father and mother, both city dwellers, use/d the word "gritty" to describe certain neighborhoods in Boston, and it has a negative connotation for me - a sort of wasted, gang-land vibe.
3. hot town (yeah, I know, it's two words)
New York in August!
4. night
Ditto, only because I can hear them together. I love cities at night in the summer.
5. dance
Eh, nothing comes to mind. Except, "not me!"

Friday Five - Beach Trip

More from the RevGalBlogPals:

So in honor of summer, please share your own beachy memories, plans, and dreams with a "Beach Trip" Friday Five.

1. Ocean rocks, lake limps? Vice versa? Or "it's all beautiful in its own way"?
I think it's all beautiful, but for swimming it has to be the ocean. There's something icky about fresh water that reminds me of swimming in blood. And those snapping turtles of my camp youth...

2. Year round beach living: Heaven...or the Other Place?
I love the beach all year. No place is more beautiful than the beach in November. I'm not sure I'd want it for eternity. However, Heaven surely includes insta-maid service, so beach tar and sand wouldn't be a source of irritation...

3. Any beach plans for this summer?
Most beaches here are shingle, no sand castles. So, the Lido perhaps (that's the Italian version where beach chairs are lined up with precision and you pay a few euro to rent your chair for the day). I haven't really thought about the beach much, here. Perhaps I should plan? Mmmm....Greece....

4. Best beach memory ever?
We spent the summers at the beach when I was growing up. When I was a tiny thing we lived in a double house (two ancient houses that had been smooshed together in the kitchen) with an older couple in Yarmouth, Mass, my mom's hometown. We took swim lessons every day, but the beach was special. The beach involved chairs and buckets and a stop at Village DoNut. It was a short drive and a long walk over the dunes. They had a clam shack that always smelled deliciously of forbidden french fries, although occasionally we bought a Chunky bar. While I have vivid memories of the hot sand and the smells and the sharp sounds of gulls, I don't remember being in the water at all.

5. Fantasy beach trip?
I think Greece qualifies. I'd like a house/apartment across the street from the beach, with a little restaurant. Like the town in His Dark Materials where all the adults' souls have been eaten (not that I want that, I just like the way the town is imagined). Best part of the fantasy: everyone speaks English.

Bonus: Share a piece of music/poetry/film/book that expresses something about what the beach means to you.

Another try at the Friday Five - very late

Friday Five: Grand Tour

In honor of these upcoming trips, herewith your Grand Tour Friday Five.

Name five places that fall into the following categories:

1) Favorite Destination -- someplace you've visited once or often and would gladly go again
I have been really digging NYC recently. I think because my sister has lived there for such a long time, I always felt intimidated by the City. There was just no way I could ever get around like she does. Lately, though, I've been much more comfortable with my own unknowing, a point of view I've always held while in other places. Aside from the cost of just BEING in NYC, there is so much to do - and in the warmer months, there is so much to do just outside.

2) Unfavorite Destination -- someplace you wish you had never been (and why)
Truly, there is not one place that I have visited that I would refuse to go to again. That said, why go back? There is SO MUCH OUT THERE!

3) Fantasy Destination -- someplace to visit if cost and/or time did not matter
In high school I thought the ideal trip would be Istanbul, Ravenna and Rome. I still think that's a fairly fabulous trip. And if that falls through, North Africa: Tunisia, Morocco...

4) Fictional Destination -- someplace from a book or movie or other art or media form you would love to visit, although it exists only in imagination
Tolkein's Middle Earth. I am sure there are other places...to be amended!

5) Funny Destination -- the funniest place name you've ever visited or want to visit
I can't believe I never made it to Hot Coffee, Mississippi. It's a little town just off the main route North from the Coast - too far, apparently, as I was always in a hurry. It started out as a farm with a sign nailed to a tree at the crossroads.

I've sort of made it a mission to visit as many underground places as I possibly can. So, they're not really funny, but high on my list of places are the Roman catacombs, the catacombs beneath San Giovanni in Siracusa and the Etruscan tombs in Tuscany.

Phew!

Friday 5 - a wee bit late

Friday I was consumed with a tween party, so I read but didn't play. Yesterday I completely forgot. Sunday morning it is!

This is certainly a strange way to start out a Friday Five but it made me think about what I might like to do if I knew it would only last for 24 hours. There are no reality boundaries to these imaginings. So here are the five things for you to consider...

1. If you could dramatically change your physical appearance for 24 hours, what would you do?

I'd be flat-chested. Like, an A-cup. And then I'd (also rather magically) be able to go for a really long run. And then I'd have the energy to go out dancing. I'd like to know what it feels like to do those physical things without big gazongas, and I'd like to know if folks really pay attention to them.

2. If you could live in another place for 24 hours, where would you go?

As it is only a day, I'd go to the Antarctic. Generally speaking it's too cold for me - but I can do anything for a day!

3. You get to do somebody else's job for a day...

Hmmmm....I'm not convinced I want anyone else's job. Maybe Archbishop Tutu. Obviously, he works, but he doesn't work as a priest, necessarily. So, he uses his priestly role to do other stuff. (No, not particularly articulate, but you get the idea!)

4. Spend the day with another person from anywhere in time and space...

Abraham Lincoln. He's the first person to come to mind. See #5.

5. A magical power is yours. Which one would you pick?

Time travel! I'd be a fly on the wall in all the places I've wanted to "see." And, as it is a magical power, I wouldn't have to do it all in 24 hours, I could stretch out those hours to fit it all in :)

I love me some fried chicken

Which is good, cuz that's what we had for dinner tonight.

Easy-peasey!! And makes a great lunch the next day...

*cut chicken breasts into chunks
*soak in buttermilk until you remember to take them out and start dinner
*heat oil in skillet
*toss together whole wheat flour, thyme, salt & pepper (oooh, some cayenne would have been great!)
*take dripping pieces of chicken out of buttermilk, toss with flour and place in hot oil
*let fry until golden on one side (about 3 minutes) and then turn over and cook another 2-3 minutes
*keep warm in the oven while you make up the rest

We ate ours with fresh green beans and fresh crusty bread. I had a nice fruili, the kids drank milk.

Tomorrow, they'll have chicken-wrap sandwiches: spread ranch dressing on a tortilla, add shredded lettuce, sliced chicken and a little Parmesan (if you are feeling fancy). Roll. Slice in 2. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap (I recommend stretch tite, always), then in foil. Make sure there's something else cold in the lunch box, add some goldfish crackers, maybe some beans or carrots and a piece of chocolate.

Almost makes me want to repeat 5th grade!

Friday 5

MOVING
Mother Laura over at RevGalBlogPals writes:
We are right in the middle of a move--only twenty minutes away, but we're still a mix of busy, excited, nervous and surprisingly full of grief about what we're leaving, for me at least. So this week's Friday Five asks about your experience of the marvels and madness of moving...

1. How many times have you moved? When was the last time?
We moved twice when I was a child, but for most of my young life we lived in one lovely house in the Boston subarbs. Considering the tumultuous nature of my childhood, never having to physically move was a blessing.
Since I've been married, we've moved 8 times (in 13 years). Those are duty-station changes. We've also moved 3 times within those moves, creating a grand total of 11 moves, 2 overseas!

2. What do you love and hate about moving?

3. Do you do it yourself or hire movers?
The Navy moves us - thank God! There is such freedom in knowing that it's not up to you - either where to go or how to get it all there. It creates a different attitude towards "stuff." The one time I freaked out and had to have my scrapbooks in the car with me, I was paranoid the entire time that someone would steal the car or they'd get wet, or whatever. Other than the photographs, nothing is that important to me that I would worry about stuff more than peeps. (And I still don't have a solution for the photos. Although the new ones are all online, the old ones are the baby pics...)

4. Advice for surviving and thriving during a move?
Don't worry about it. Really. It's just stuff.

That said:

Do know what you have and don't leave things of value out-and-about.

Know what is allowed. (Years ago, movers would empty all rubbermaid-type containers, pack that stuff in cardboard, and then ship the empty containers. I would always have to ask that the movers NOT unpack the nicely-organized boxes.)

Keep an eye on your movers; when there are more than 2 movers in your home, particularly in one room, get a buddy to help you.

You can also always UN-do a box. I had to rescue Joe's Scotch from the last move.

I like to pre-position for a move: I put all knick-knacks in one room, all books in one room (except kids' books, those stay in their rooms), all wall-stuff in one room. As we move often, we don't keep the same things in the same room. It's nice to know that I won't open a box full of clothes and find my icons, ya know?

Finally, your movers may not be the brightest of guys (or girls). But they're taking care of your stuff. So, buy them lunch, give them your liquor if you are moving overseas, chat with them, introduce your friend who is helping you, and make sure they understand you. In the kitchen boxes of our most recent move were opened boxes of goldfish crackers and moldy cookies. The guys who did our kitchen DID NOT hear me when I showed them where to pack and where not to pack.

**things that you should pack in your car: chargers, corded phone, screwdriver & hammer with claw, toilet tissue.

5. Are you in the middle of any inner moves, if not outer ones?
We are always in the middle of a move! No, not really, but sometimes it seems that way. Which can be good - you can live with anything for a short time, even a teal bathroom - and I like moving my furniture around to fit the next-new-place. But, it takes time and energy - not just to pack and unpack, but also to get accustomed to a new place, new faces, new routines...and thus, I often don't get other, internal-move stuff done.

The physical move has also taken away from my vocationally settling down. Did you know that the Episcopal church does not look favorably upon people who move around a lot?

Bonus: Share a piece of music/poetry/film/book that expresses something about what moving means to you.
mmmm....I'll have to come back to this one!

THIS is my new favorite meal

Quinoa Salad - Mediterranean style *props to the Silver Palate Basics cookbook, as that was where this started.

1 cup boiling water
2 cups quinoa

boil quinoa 10 minutes, covered

stir in 1/2 cup raisins, cook 5 more minutes, uncovered, until liquid is evaporated

spread quinoa mixture on baking sheet to cool

when cool-to-touch, mix in large bowl with:
1 -2 blood oranges, peeled and cut into small chunks
2 scallions, sliced white - 1" green
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pistachios, unsalted, unroasted
1/4 cup new (fruity) olive oil
2 tsps fresh globe (spicy) basil, shredded
salt & pepper to taste

Serve as a side dish or a luncheon salad. Will keep, covered, several days in fridge.

Grilled meat is very popular here, this side would go well with grilled pork. I think both times we've had this we've eaten it mushroom-stuffed flank steak.

RegGalBlogPals' Friday Five

OMG - I can't believe I am actually playing this week.

Maybe I need another glass of wine before I start to type...

Well, for some reason I can no longer access rgbp, but I'll try to muddle along to the best of my abilities!

The story of the road to Emmaus is one of my favorites in scripture.

How has God revealed him/herself to you in a:

1. Book
Sigh. When was the last time I read a book?! Okay, this might sound weird, but I really, really loved His Dark Materials (the Golden Compass trilogy), and I kept reading pieces of social gospel into the books, especially the second two.

2. Movie
The Last Temptation of Christ was really the first time I watched a movie and felt that it was telling me something. But that was 20 years ago! Surely there have been movies, tv even, that speak God to me now? I don't know. I don't think I am that much of a "watcher." I like to watch to escape!
Actually, I love House, M.D. I think there is amazing insight in the dramatization of a crochety old diagnostician. The last episode we watched was the one where the sick man mirrors the personalities of the doctors helping him. The woman who killed the dog was mirrored as being scared and not knowing what to do. When House asks her what she heard, she says "nothing." Of course she's scared. But that's not going to get in the way of her ministry. At the very end of the episode Hugh Laurie's character tells Omar Epps' that he was the only one who "heard" his persona and did something about it. He's changed. Isn't that the nature of scripture and gospel? We see in these characters people we do/not want to be, we see ourselves, and we see who we can be and turn toward the light. (Yes, influenced by children's church this week which is all about the conversion of Paul!)

3. Song
Lord of All Hopefulness, p. 482 1982 Hymnal Especially verse 3, which I shouldn't even bother to sing, as it makes me cry great big Alice-in-Wonderland tears every time!

4. Another Person
I see Christ in a lot people, particularly people who help me see Christ. Joe, Beatrice, Wylie, Deacon Debi, Father Peter, Bud...

5. Creation
I can't live here and not see the incredible JOY of GOD in creation. Just watching the clouds gives me Joy.

bonus(es): On Easter Sunday I witnessed the power of music to take us place we never thought we could go (again). We belong to a small chapel community with a Presbyterian preacher. He's trying his best, but he is not a liturgical chaplain. As a result, our Easter service had no "Alleluia, He is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed." Nor did we have any alleluias (they weren't missed, no one had to hide them during Lent!) or any of the other aural indicators of Easter. However, we sang "The Day of Resurrection" as our recessional. I turned to look at Beatrice and she had tears just streaming down her face. She came and sat on my lap (my almost-11-year-old) and cried and cried. Oh, how she misses her old church and the power of the organ and her little muscles lifting her voice in prayer. It touched me deeply, to see how much closer to God she is through music.

I would add that there are place in scripture where, over years and years, I have continually found the presence of God:
Hebrews 13 "Be not afraid to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
Micah 6 "and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

And the '79 BCP, particularly Eucharistic Rite II, prayer C
"Open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver
us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace
only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for
renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one
body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the
world in his name.
Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the Bread."

finally, feeling privileged

Actually, I always feel my privilege.
**Do you know when you type "privilege" more than two time in a row, it loses all sense of a word - there's too many i's or something. Which prompted me to look it up:

privilege (n): ME from the OF fr L privilegium - law for or against a private person: a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor.
privileged (adj): 1) having or enjoying one or more privileges (~ classes) 2) not subject to the usual rules or penalties because of some special circumstances

Right here we see the effects of privilege. The very use, putting aside understanding, of a dictionary connotes a level of education that is only attained with privilege.

I had no idea it was such a legalistic word, although "rights and privileges" is a legal phrase.

From the older form of the word, when we say we are privileged, it means we take on the immunity granted to our socio-economic class. This fits well with underlying assumption taken on in sociology of education, that regardless of where you start, your education will lift you to the privileged ranks. Education (in the United States) is more than book-learning, it has a lot to do with fitting in to the class system. In many ways, education white-washes all of us, even those who did not start out bland or those who try to chafe against their education.

Anyway, on to that meme:

From What Privileges Do You Have?, based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University. If you participate in this blog game, they ask that you PLEASE acknowledge their copyright.

1. Father went to college *not only was going to college non-negotiable, 80% of my high school went on to 4-year college
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
6. Were in the same or higher class than your high school teachers
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home (I had more than 50 books in my childhood room!)
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
9. Were read children's books by a parent (all the way through high school, baby!)
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively (it's taken me a while to parse this sentence, but yes, of course!)
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18* this is one of those questions that is generational more than indicative of class, I think. We just didn't USE credit cards. But my mom let me use hers if I needed to. That is privilege!
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs *another caveat, while I am sure that my parents would have been able to pay for a lot of my college costs, I cannot be sure of this. A trust did pay for my college, thank God, but it was the payout from my father's life insurance/social security benefits.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs. *technically, no, as I had to work to pay for many of my books and all of my clothes and "fun" stuff - like getting home for breaks!
16. You went to a private high school *no, because the public high school was better than most private schools. I think if I had wanted to, I could have gone
17. Went to summer camp
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels *no, but doesn't "family vacation" connote privilege? Even more, we "summered" somewhere. Talk about a word loaded with privilege!
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them (car?! what car?!)
22. There was original art in your home as a child
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
25. You had your own room as a child
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18 (see above #13)
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school (see above #13)
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college (see above #14)
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
31. Went on a cruise with your family
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up *I am willing to agree that this connotes privilege, however, museums were free when I was little, so it was cheap entertainment
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family


I find it interesting that no one is able to do this without commenting or caveats. Clearly, we all feel guilt/pressure/unease when it comes to class/privilege/money

It's just a flesh wound...

Something needs to be written!

I'm playing with Sunday's lectionary readings, Thomas and the need to "see it to believe it."

The chapel service I attend is led by a Calvinist. We hear a lot about sin and, well, sin. (Even on Easter. Thank God for ministers who posted their Easter joy online!) More than wishing I could hear less about sin and more about grace, I miss the style of sermon that asks us to look at the text as our own. I miss hearing personal stories that link the text to real life, and then encourage us to search for our own connections.

I won't hear the Calvinist preach this Sunday, but I am fairly certain I'd be hearing about faith saving us. That we MUST believe, it's our only hope. Yup, I get that.

That's not what I'd preach on.

I think I'd mention that there's not a lot of admonition. Thomas' need to see and touch (sound like a psalm, anyone?) doesn't damn him. Jesus chides, but welcomes, too. He allows for Thomas' questions and then moves on. We need Thomas, he's like us. We're not Peter, jumping in feet first, not looking for the stump in the shallows. We're not Mary, so relieved that love lives again we see the man and not the divine. We want to weigh, we want to think, we need a little time. (Could that be part of Thomas' "problem"? He wasn't there to begin with; he had time to think.)

John ends the interaction with Jesus' words "blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." And then the Gospel writer tells us that he has written this down so that we, without seeing, may believe and have life in His name.

Thomas is our foil: Thomas, an ordinary, after-the-fact believer has "seen and believed" and now we can believe, too.

I find it interesting that Thomas' role in Christian mythology continues after his Johannine encounter with Christ. His Gospel offers another view on Christ; people read his account and know that he wasn't one of the codified, and yet it tells the same story. Thomas was the apostle who carried the Good News to India, where there are still Thomasine churches. The Church in South India is one of the most varied and cohesive multi-denominational groups today. Peter's church has rigid lines of belief and unbelief. Thomas' is fluid and encompassing.

So, if I were preaching, that's where I'd start.

But that's not all that I see in this story. I see a shift in culture and the culture of belief. I wish I knew more Millenial preachers, as I think my viewpoint is on the younger side. The traditional read on Doubting Thomas is that we need to move out of our comfort zone - we should not need to see to believe.

As the United States has always been a "See it to believe it" kind of place. Doubting Thomas "works" for us. We need to hold, touch, talk, be WITH. We're consumers, we like to hold on to something. Even charitable donations, require a gift, a letter, some tangible sign that we've reached out. Along with our need to hold on to stuff, Americans are reserved. Combining reserve with seeing and believing, we've created a working system that rewards knowing people. We believe in codified belief-systems and institutions. Knowing where someone comes from, which schools, which company, which church...Old Boy Networks work because their world views were similar. There's not that much of stretch between the 3 Presidents who went to Yale. Clinton and Bush were members of the same secret society there. The general beliefs are the same, because the institutions are the same. (This is Thomas - we see ourselves in him, so it's okay to believe in his belief.)

Here's the culture shift: and like my Easter Joy, it comes from the Web.

I don't believe we, these younger generations, need to see to believe. We live in a very connected world, but our connections are through faith, not physicality.

Only a few years ago, it was important to delineate between "real life" friends (IRL) and on line friends. I don't hear that as much anymore. Just last month I asked a favor of an on-line friend I'd never met before, asking her to help another friend, one from down the street, find a new home in her area. In that transaction, there was no difference between believing in someone I could shake hands with and one I texted.

Several months ago, 60 Minutes did an interview with Mark Zuckerberg. The Boomer-something interviewer is clearly of the "see and believe" mentality. I could hear in her voice the disbelief in social networking. "A waste of time." "This is made for alumnae, but you didn't even graduate from Harvard." Both lines, that social networking might be a waste of time and that where you graduated from is of importance to who you are, imply the need to be concrete. They are Thomasine. Now, I am not saying that anyone else in Jesus' posse was any less concrete. They were all physically present with Jesus in his ministry and, at one point or another, his resurrection.

(Interesting, isn't it, that the person who spread the Gospel the furthest wasn't there at all? He's that outer link on the Friend Wheel, the one with his own massive wheel.)

If this culture shift is true, that who we are and what we believe is sufficient, without "old school" connections, without the need to see to believe, what does that mean for Thomas? In a new paradigm, where does Thomas stand? If we don't need him to touch for us, what do we need Thomas for?

Like Mary Magdalene last week, this is a story of ASKING FOR and RECEIVING FROM Jesus. 2000 years ago, Jesus' answer explained our generation's status: We are blessed to not have to see to believe. We can do it, and Jesus knew we'd get here. But Thomas' searching allows to keep searching, too. Those small questions of Thomas' led him to India, to a church which encompases many different ways of acting on Truth.

For today, let us recognize ourselves in Thomas: brave enough to ask for what we need and strong enough to carry it on to others.

Holy Crap!!

It hit me as I drove home from running errands this morning...the movers are coming on Monday. All along I've bee saying "yeah, yeah, they'll pack it all up and move it all out, no biggie."

But that's not quite the whole story, is it?

Of course not. That doesn't include this afternoon's foray into party stuff for B's birthday party. Or tomorrow's activities that appear to be running on late into the night. Or the birthday party on Saturday. Or that both my mom and sister will be here for part of it and most likely stay a while. Or church on Sunday, when the kids are singing, B is reading and W is receiving his cotta...

Moves aren't really that big a deal. And moving to Sicily isn't really any different than moving to California.

Except that we have fully 2/3rds of our household goods going into long-term storage, and that means dancing with furniture and watching the movers so that they don't pack up something we really don't want.

I'd like to sigh, but my chest is too tight.

Guess I just need to power on through!

And pray!

What Shrek the Third has taught me

And all that I refuse to learn...

The heavy-handed lesson from S/3rd is that people will label you what they will, but it's only true if you let it be. Shrek is an ogre, but he doesn't need to be an ugly, mean monster. Artie does his own thing, but he's only a loser if he doesn't believe in himself. Sort of Eleanor Roosevelt's "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent," dressed up for a modern audience.

This is a lesson that I insist on. In college I repeated like a mantra that I was there to learn all I could, not necessarily to earn the best grade that I could. I taped Eleanor's words to my desk as I wrote my thesis. I tell it to my kids. I fiercely believe that I am doing what is right for me.

But I can only believe it for so long.

Once a quarter the Alumnae Bulletin finds it's way to my mailbox. Inevitably, I put aside everything else and turn to the class notes. I am fixated on all that these incredibly industrious women do with their time and talent. And I begin to shrink inside of myself. Have I made poor choices? What am I doing here, a stay-at-home mom with too much education? It's not even that I want my achievements posted; at that moment, I can't see any achievements. I can't ask myself if someone would be interested in my lessons from the mom-front. I jump too quickly to castigation: Why am I not in there, tearing up the world doing...something!

That day came last week and I did not feel quite as badly as I read about the doings of the class of '93. I think that's because there really wasn't that much to tell. I am irritated that my notes, the notes I dutifully typed up, painfully reviewed (gosh, I hope my life of volunteer work and homemade bread doesn't sound too dumb), and sent it, didn't get published. But I gave myself a pat on the back that I wasn't letting others' achievements bring me down.

My college classmates are more and more in my position: they have kids, they stay at home, they rely more on their partner's involvement than previously, they are tired, frustrated, and grouchy. I have less to feel bad about; I know those feelings intimately. I even give advice. More than one friend has called me in a panic when their child has been chastised in preschool. They know I've been there and survived. It's a twisted point of pride in our family: there is no way that their kid could be as bad as W was - only he has been kicked out!

So why I am typing this?

By 8:15 this morning, I had checked Joe's haircut and his exam; fed, lunched, and put on the bus both kids; done the dishes and started a load of laundry. Cup of coffee beside me, I proceeded to the read the blogs on my list. There are a few cooking pages, but mostly I read church-y stuff: the news, the hype, the analysis (who says being Episcopalian is dull?!) and the endless list of women-in-religion blogs.

And it hit me. These women, women whom I respect, applaud, and hold up in prayer, feed that inner ogre. I couldn't read very far this morning before I started to hit myself about the shoulders: why don't I write like this; if only I were ordained; everyone else is at the party but me...

Here's the truth.

My path is different. I have never done things the way others do, whether by forethought or by circumstance. I hold up the edges for others: I am a mom who reads the news and talks about it with her kids; I am the mom who has taught her kids to cook; I am the woman who has already been there when it comes to contraception, marriage, babies, children. Because I believe that education is in the learning, whether I get an A+ or not, I am easy-going.

If I feel I am the only one walking, it doesn't mean the path isn't true.

I've spent a lot of this year being quiet, staying small. I think it's time to reclaim my status as trail marker. Not trailblazer: I follow other people. I just want others to know that we can get there, too.

Oh, Happy Day!

Harvard's new president is a Bryn Mawr Alumn.
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/12/education/12harvard.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Is there anything women can not do?

And, my favorite quote of the week, from another rockin' woman, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori "Life is too short to get too flustered."

I just wish I could remember that more frequently!

Breaking News - redeemed

Diana Butler Bass has a wonderful essay on Anna Nicole Smith and our commitment to see the face of Jesus in everyone, per our Baptismal Covenant.

Thanks to Rick Lord at World of Your Making!

Breaking News

First, I am on the "new" blogger - courtesy of my gmail. How fancy-schmancy.

But my inspiration for changing over was due to other "breaking news" and a gripe I have had for a few weeks now.
Is the death of Anna Nicole Smith BREAKING NEWS?!

This is not the first time msnbc.com has headlined a minor incident. And even NPR got into the act yesterday when they (albeit briefly) noted the psychotic break of Lisa Nowak. Good grief, the poor woman was clearly out of her senses, is that worthy of the national news?

I now take on, as my duty, pointing out when we are being unduly assaulted by BREAKING NEWS.


Now back to the happy-happy joy-joy of google-driven blogging.

Eve of St Brigid

I wish I had the skill of giving things away. Instead, I seem to pile them up.

Tonight it is cookies, 100 extra-large chocolate chip and 88 extra-large sugar cookies.

Why did I say I would provide the cookies for Grandparents' lunch?

Another month?

No, another Church year.

I promise to get my blogging butt in gear and actually write something.

Really.

Truly.

Later - it's time for pancakes at church.

someone has to speak

I keep looking for chatter regarding yesterday's election. Not the people losing power or gaining power. Not the switch from moderate Republicans to conservative Democrats. Not referenda on abortion, the lives of pigs, or constitutional changes. These are all issues that will be played out on the big screen of our common life in the weeks and months to come.

What I wanted to hear is more immediate, and more pressing. What I want to hear, I caught out of the side of my ear while on the way home last night: this election, up to the moment of polling, cost $1.4 billion.

How many vaccines could we provide?
How many children could we educate?
How many innovative and incredible ideas could we foster?

So I am waiting for the chatter, and I haven't heard it.

The Mitre Makes the Outfit

I spent Saturday at a discernment retreat. At first I was bummed that I would miss the webcast of the investiture of our new Presiding Bishop, Katharine. It turned out to be the perfect place to watch. A group of younger people and a lot of women, who better to watch with?
There was lots of color, lots of movement, lots of singing, lots of voices. The celebrants wore yellow. The liturgical dancers were amazing. The next time someone complains, I am going to send them over to the Omega Liturgical Dancers at the Cathedral of St John the Divine in NYC. They truly enhanced the liturgy.
I was relieved to see ++Katharine smiling during the sprinkling of the waters of baptism. I pray that she will continue to see God's grace during her tenure.
What I loved best was her mitre. It was hope-filled, colorful, and inviting, just as I see the Episcopal Church. I hope she continues to wear it and that we, the sheep of her flock, continue to see the Joy made manifest in this body of Christ, the Episcopal Church.