The Latter Days of Scorpio

2005-11-27T10:11:00.000-08:00

I have not been posting because I've been busy with things like this! calendar.walkerart.org/event.wac?id=2052

And this! http://www.mnartists.org/work.do?rid=79226

I was in a dance performance that sold out both shows--a first for me. For the past three months I've gotten through hiring 15 new people for my job, taking a class, 2 dance performances, practicing 2-3 times a week for another one in January, a turkey dinner AND a stolen car.

Did anyone else set their turkey on fire on Thanksgiving? We might have...

2005-09-09T13:31:00.000-07:00

I'm going to ride out this fabulous mood, with its optimism and sense of well being, for as long as I can. I found out that I'm going to live out a dream of mine this week, but I can't say until it's official. My landlord has an overgrown, organic garden that displays new blooms every other week. I love August and September for the butterflies I see flying around whereever I go--on the U of M walking bridge, at Chipolte, and a whole family of them in the crazy garden in my front yard. I know its very 4th grade unicorn and ponies for me to like them, but they give me a sense of renewal and good fortune, which I think is unique for autumn since you are watching so many things die and hibernate. They fly with jagged energy but graciousness. I hope you find some good luck today too.

2005-09-06T09:43:00.000-07:00

I wrote this last night, Labor Day:

Do you ever get surprised with feelings of unannounced anticipation? I spent the weekend sleeping and watching TV from a little virus and a long summer. I've been quiet and inside myself a bit. Nothing extraordinary has happened lately. Today I slept in, cleaned, read a book in the sun, went to a movie, and gave myself a haircut. But it's still there...waiting for the unexpected, like checking the mailbox for a letter in the mail that will tell me that I've won something.

I go through phases like this sometimes, or maybe I'm just caught up in the rhythm of the shcool year embedded in my brain and body--I lay low for a time, think my thoughts, watch the world around me go by, and then I get so excited, wanting to throw myself into it. Nothing there really to jump into. But that's what's exciting, just knowing there is something new to visit, an unopened present, a gasp just inside my throat I'm waiting to exhale.

I feel prepared, aware, comfortable in my skin. I have met myself again, at an end of summer BBQ, and it's been so long I've forgotten those things I delight in that I can't wait to reintroduce her to my friends. I don't know what is next . It's just Next and that's enough to get excited. Ever feel that way?

2005-05-31T06:01:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a vivid dream that I remembered in a long time. I just had it two hours ago...

I had some flowers and I kept setting them on fire, and I wanted the flames to burn some branches down from this tree. After a couple times, the flames got very high in the tree and I knew it would burn down, so I thought of where I could get a fire extinguisher. My grandma's house was next to the tree, so I went inside, but my mother and grandmother said they didn't have a fire extinguisher. So I ran to another house where I knew there was one and I put out the flames.

But the tree got all wet, and some people under the tree got wet too. There was a woman who was taking care of a little girl, and they were cold because they had been outside, and I felt bad that I had lit the tree on fire and then got them wet. I went through some cabinets and boxes to find a coat the little girl could wear, but I only found some short sleeved sweaters and some mittens. The woman seemed satisfied.

Then it shifted to this huge conference, but it was outside on something like this frozen lake, only it wasn't as much a conference as it was a dance performance. I was learning a tango with some guy, and I noticed all these ducks. There were the normal mallards and brown females, but there were also these large ugly looking ducks. There were so many people, they were getting restless and starting to bother people, jumping and pecking in their faces. I didn't like that at all. So all the people started moving in one direction to get the ducks out of there. There were hundreds of people and hundreds of ducks, and as the people moved all the ducks started to fly away.

Any interpretations?

2005-04-04T16:21:00.000-07:00

My one gracious fan told me I need to blog--so this is what I gotta say today.

Another Anna showed pictures from her week of recording where she saw God. I loved that idea. I always see "pictures" or real-life film scenes when I don't have a camera. I'll give you three, two from today:

1) One was walking to my car from my job and I saw my reflection in the glass wall of the architecture building on U of M campus. The shadow was moving forward with me until a light hit the wall and another me was traveling backward. It was from a car passing by, and it was a crazy effect. I wish I had it on film.

2) Today I was listening to the Shins on my walkman while I walked across the huge cement platform in front of Northrop auditorium. I wondered if I got a camera shot of it from the air if I could send it to Zach and he could tack it onto the end of Garden State.

3) Then as I was driving home I was waiting at a stop sign, and the car in front of me had the reflection of an airplane flying through its rear window. It was perfectly centered, like the pilot and the driver had planned it just for me to see.

2005-03-16T19:03:00.000-08:00

I was told by someone that I need a place to post comments--first--WOW people read this! Second, don't I have a place to post? I also realize that my blog is pooring under-linked. Can someone give me a step by step plan to jazz it up?

My general observation is that most people are in the blahs right now. Me too. It's not March Madness. It's March Sadness. My thought is that the blahs are making space for something new to come. Just around the corner...

2005-02-09T13:51:00.000-08:00

WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY?

Not only was my flowing nectar affirmed again today (more info to come), but I've been hard at work at my new job with my good friend Buttons. While we both had 23 other things to do, our director General Zaragoza "charged" us with learning about and responding to Bush's decision to cut Upward Bound, and subseqently our jobs and the opportunity for 105 low income students in Minneapolis to get much needed academic support to get into college and receive a top notch education. Here is what we wrote:

President Bush’s stated intention for the FY 2004 federal budget is to cut education programs that “are not getting results or duplicate current efforts or do not fulfill essential priorities.”[1] Upward Bound (UB) is in full agreement with this aim. To determine which programs are ineffective, the President relies on a study called the Program Assessment Rating Tool (PART). PART’s intention is to rate programs for effectiveness based on purpose and design, strategic planning, management and results.

PART finds that UB has a clear purpose and is designed to have a significant impact on addressing a specific need,[2] but does not “demonstrate adequate progress in achieving long term outcome goals.”[3] This assessment, however, calls for further investigation. PART clearly states as part of their analysis that “the department of Education recently finalized its goal and targets for Upward Bound but does not yet have information to measure program progress.”[4] This lack of information is mystifying because colleges sponsoring UB programs have been submitting detailed annual performance reports for over 10 years. The DOE has not analyzed this information and submitted it for PART analysis. In addition, of the 56 education-related programs evaluated using PART, only 2 were rated Effective. These two programs are the National Center on Educational Statistics and the National Assessment (of Educational Programs). They are focused only on educational assessment. No program actually educating students or providing services to students earned an effective rating. Results such as these strongly indicate that a reevaluation of the PART analysis, particularly in regard to educational programs that provide services, is essential before its findings can be used in decision-making of this magnitude. Upward Bound’s program effectiveness must be evaluated based on actual reported results, not on an assessment riddled with missing information and a questionable outcome.

In the State of the Union address, President Bush announced his intention to “demand better results from our high schools so every high school diploma is a ticket to success.”[5] His plan to accomplish this includes taking funding from Upward Bound and applying it to the expansion of the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB) to high schools. According to the DOE website, the stated goals of NCLB include the intention to “place emphasis on determining what educational programs and practices have been proven effective through rigorous scientific research.”[6] Again, UB is in full agreement with this aim. However, the numerous concerns with PART’s analysis of educational programs demonstrate that PART’s method of evaluation does not constitute sufficient scientific research. Clearly, President Bush’s subsequent decision to replace UB with experimental efforts is not in line with his stated goals. This judgment is made more troubling by the fact that thorough, detailed program information on UB and its outcomes has been readily available for over 10 years.

[1] State of the Union speech, 2005
[2] Pg 443-444 of the PART study for the FY 2004 Federal Budget
[3] Pg 449 of the PART study for the FY 2004 Federal Budget
[4] Pg 450f the PART study for the FY 2004 Federal Budget
[5] State of the Union speech, 2005
[6] http://www.ed.gov/nclb/methods/index.html?src=ov

Victory to the huddled masses yearning to be free! And to two women who crush emotional fuckwits and strive to change the world!

2005-01-24T13:03:00.000-08:00

I was told by several women I know that a woman has a streak of time when "their nectar is flowing." Having existed most of my life not knowing I had "nectar" or even where it flows from when it does come, I found this past week very curious:

Thursday: I meet up with a guy who runs a million dollar environmental clean up organization, who lives on a barge 10 months out of the year and snow boards. He calls me twice and has his staff email me from 2 states away so we can go out to dinner and drinks.

Saturday: I go out to Nye's with friends, and as I'm talking a guy from across the room stares and points for a good minute until I realize he's looking at me. He toddles over with a "I'm Getting Wasted" t-shirt on and says he knows me from school. Further questioning reveals that he doesn't know the class or year.

Sunday: At a "Phantasamagoria" show (aerial and dance--largely gay or female audience), a guy stumbles over a chair to help me put my coat on. He helps teach tango at the Four Seasons downtown, where I took private tango lessons last May.

Ladies, how do you handle your nectar?

2005-01-18T09:00:00.000-08:00

I gripped the wheel too hard, and the brakes locked up. Anti-lock breaks shouldn't do that. They boing back and forth when they do work, the pulse of them working underneath your right foot. Marlene had mentioned they were acting up. I didn't see the ice on the ground, so when I hit it, I gripped the wheel and pressed into the brake and there was no pulse underneath my feet, and my car fishtailed around into a 180. All I could do was watch the large oak tree leer toward me. My eyes wandered to the dark houses in front of me, all lined up in a row. I felt the bump up over the curb, and I listened for the smash, the crunching metal and shattered glass.

Even with a long, hot bath and a sleep aid, I am awake at 5 in the morning, and my thoughts go to him. How I was wronged. How I was duped. How I can't believe superficial infatuation can be interpreted for real love so falsely and with such fervor. Such a lack of self-awareness from such intelligence. And then I remembered the accident eight hours before, and how my hands gripped the wheel when I lost control.

So at 5 in the morning, this thought comes into my head, as I lie in my bed gripping my pen, my hands chilled in the cold darkness. As the words are silently formed, a prayer only God can hear, I feel space spread in my bones and the weight of my body falling into the bed. I need to forgive him. This is the kind of person I that I want to be. And in the end, I am only hurting myself, not the one who I feel deserves it. If I grip the wheel too hard, sometimes there is ice and the brakes don't work very well. I attempt to have control, but it's only an illusion. Forgiveness loosens your grip on an accident waiting to happen, an accident headed for the big oak tree in the darkness, and you are the only one in the car who will hit it. Forgiveness moves you through the ice more smoothly, though with fear and with the possibility of getting hurt. Forgiveness allows you to better able regain your vehicle to make it go where you want it to go. And I will keep going.

Thank God no one was seriously hurt. I was only badly shaken up.

2004-12-15T08:04:00.000-08:00

So it's been two months. I've been greatly preoccupied with "he that I cannot name." Not on this blog, at least. The Columbian suggested I start another blog regarding the incinsistent activities of "he that I cannot name." But I'll save that for when I quit.

I've been reading a book on rest and the Sabbath, and with new changes blowing my way, I want to be intentional about rest in my life. I don't know what that fully emans yet, but it does mean that I've been lighting a candle when I wake up and before I go to sleep. As I light it, I pray about something. I cannot believe how this little a thing can make me feel so much more focused about prayer. The book also suggests little things, like three deep breaths when you hear a phone ring or "guerilla prayer," which I need to do for "he that I cannot name" because I'd rather staple things to his head.

Hmm. What else? I'm going to Mexico in two weeks. I've never done anything like this before--an all inclusive vacation. First, I will so glad to be warm for a solid 7 days. And I also hope a complete get away will give me a chance to rest and think.

Do you intentionally rest regularly? What do you do?

2004-10-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Holy Light, illuminate

the rocky shore I can't escape.

As you touch my head

my breath lets out

with gracious weight

and love devout.

2004-09-28T20:38:00.000-07:00

My grandpa is 96 years old. He hopped trains through Indiana, worked at a print shop, and was married to my grandma for 70 years. He died today. I sit here in my room, listening to Tom Petty on a CD a lovely friend made for me, and I am reminded of almost a year ago exactly, when my heart was completely broken. I feel again that in the face of your worst fears, and even death, that we are safer than we know. We are taken care of. We are loved so much more than we could ever love. And grave covers us through to our very bones.

2004-09-16T08:00:00.000-07:00

Observation #8 (I didn't count 7 but its there)

OK. After reading Smart Women Finish Rich, I decided I wanted to be smart and I wanted to be rich. I've put myself on a strict weekly cash budget to make sure I don't overspend. What I would like to know...

why is it there are always HIDDEN expenses people have and no HIDDEN INCOME?

Case in point--I had a dance class, a haircut, and a chiropractic appointment for this week. I also knew I would be renting a car for 2 weeks while mine gets fixed. So far this week, the--homeopathic doctor said, "OH! This credit you paid for doesn't cover the visit. So that's $25."
--chiropractor said, "OH! You're in bad shape. Come in again this week for another $20."
--body shop said, "OH! The insurance company only just approved your claim. So it's going to be another two weeks.

So that's an extra $45 on my weekly budget and another $120 from my savings, which will again put me $200 more this month that I intended to spend, like EVERY month for the past year (I didn't know natural health was supposed to stress you out from the financial burden it puts upon you). So now I have these HIDDEN expenses, is my boss going to walk in and say, "OH! Look at that extra work you did on our database. That's an extra $45." Where's the HIDDEN income?

2004-08-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

When is a roommate not a roommate?

Today I told my roommate I wanted to move out. It stressed me out for the last day. I didn't sleep very well and had no appetite all day. Roommates are a strange relationship. She knows my space, how I fold my clothes, the bad TV I will watch, every mood I have, but ultimately we are in a business arrangement. I met her through a friend and thankfully we've really enjoyed living together. But now she wants a house and I want to pay less money. Our timetables are not matching up very well, but, ultimately, this is a business arrangement, and we will each do what's best for our own situation. I don't know what to think of it.

2004-08-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

Observation #6

Can anyone pull off a "new look"? Today I wore the $3 minidress I bought at the outlet mall with some capri jeans and a sweater. It is a look I've seen others wear and wanted to try it. I thought I looked supercute. And, more importantly, I felt good wearing it. I also saw a friend with bangs who is trying it out after years without them. I think she looks great. I think with enough confidence and if you like it, you can pull off any look you want, just new or completely out there.

2004-08-24T07:59:00.000-07:00

Observation #5

Friendships are like roots. You really don't know how far they grow down. I spent the weekend with friends from college I barely spoke to since I saw them last year, and have barely spoke to in the past 3-4 years. But I am so grateful for them and had a fun-filled time of real conversation and laughter. With our lives widening apart there still exists a love and concern beneath. How surprising. How lovely.

2004-08-16T08:16:00.000-07:00

Observation #4

Humans hide their secrets very well. God is infintely stronger than we are and finally wins us over, but free will puts up a good fight. We find ways to keep our beliefs and behaviors. Sometimes for years. Sometimes forever. Christians term "being saved" like you're either drowning or safe in the boat. But I think we mistake our head being kept above water as the only saving we need, when it takes a lifetime to get into the boat.

2004-08-12T16:40:00.000-07:00

Observation #3

When is a green onion not a green onion anymore? I just fell deeply in love with my crockpot again, and I was cutting up a green onion to throw in with my chicken. How far do you cut before it's not green onion anymore, but stalk? Yes, this is the deepest thought I've had today.

2004-08-08T13:27:00.000-07:00

Observation #2

Hmmm. I have lived here for three years and the love I feel for the people I know here comes from deepest depths of my soul. Yet I pictures from people I haven't talked to for years up on my wall because I am such a lazy ass I won't change them. How much do we have in our lives that we see everyday and completely ignore? I finally exchanged some pictures of college folk for goofy pics of last Halloween's "Failed Aspiration Celebration." If I had died yesterday, a stranger would think I had no friends in state.

2004-08-07T16:57:00.000-07:00

So I don't have the energy to write any deep thoughts, and I don't want to publish my poetry, so I'll start what I tried to do at the beginning of this year...
an observation a day (or maybe a few a week).

Observation: I can't ever seem to stick to a budget. How do people do it? So today I went through my finances for the last two months and again I was over what I wanted. Rule #1--only spend what you earn. Thank God I have savings, although they should be called spendings. Now that I've attacked my mind and heart, I'm going to attack my pocketbook. I want to stick to a budget.

Who does this regularly out there? How do you do it?

2004-07-28T17:16:00.000-07:00

I've made it to the end of the world
to sing songs that I never have heard
to witness a miracle occurred
that I've made it to the end of the world.

In eight former lives I never dared to stare
in its wondrous splendor
resplendent with the moonlight
where God dips his toes into Superior water
leaving the nail shiny and white against the overhead dome
mingling sky and sea
beholding a mystery
in the eyes of a growed up little girl
standing at the end of the world.

The world finally fallen from her shoulders
she sits down upon the boulders
and cries for her lost pebbles
weeps for wonder
sighs for sympathy
and thinks of them
They will be left behind
far from the end of the world.

She took the words told to her
and ate them in big bites
They are too much to chew, taste of sulphur and gall,
and she chokes on them.
They must be swallowed down.
There is nothing else to eat.

She drops these words and they scatter like ash
in the wind
at the end of the world.
At the end of the world
she no longer needs to eat.
she only needs to fly.

Copyright 2004 Anna Resele

2004-07-05T10:26:00.000-07:00

create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide

This is supposed to show up as a map of all the places i've been in the US. I'm quite proud. I worked over 90 hours for the summer program I run last week. The stress and busyness has purged me of most negative thinking and bodily reactions that I had most of the past year. I heard a comment, "Well, just work a lot and you'll feel better." That was about as good as the other comment I got when I described the week of dreams I had last months consisting of 2 executions, 2 suicides, and a rat attack: "Well, I know this seems like a cure all, but when I drink water I feel a lot better." No comment.

HIGHLY RECOMMEND Feeling Good by Dr. David Burns. Depression differs from sadness because it attacks your self worth, while sadness and suffering is the process of healing from a loss without it affecting your worth. I've been privately blogging about the thoughts I have surrounding past hurts, current desires, and all frustrations. I hate getting trapped inside my head. There is too much I want to see and do to constantly roll around up there with the same old shit.

There is a young woman who has only been around consistently the last four years or so--she is confident, funny, spontaneous, bouyant, and empathetic. The other girl--she has been around much longer--about 23 years or so. She is more persistent and lives in constant fear. She doubts her worth and abilities and can only live through approval of other people, though she even doubts that when she gets it. She calculates every step, every word and evalutates it according to the success of its approval. She decides what is good and bad going against these rules means utter devastation. She has a hard time breathing and sleeping. She can't stop thinking and so has a hard time thinking of others. Both females don't take very good care of themselves. They are not gentle with themselves. They don't know what they need most of the time. It's my job now to heal the girl and nuture the young woman and find a place for both of them in this one body.

2004-06-09T19:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't had time to write since my summer program is going to be up and running in two weeks. So I thought I'd put some of my poetry on here. I have a collections of bits and pieces of lines that will someday make some great songs or an epic poem. I wrote this on a plane coming home from Washington DC in October. It was a work trip. My life in Philadelphia, when I lived there five years ago, came back fresh through the smells and sights of the eastern shore, and I was healing from fresh wounds and growing up.

Dissipating Mountains
Behind the Monument
Only there for an evening
Stopping by as the Sun Set
This city pulls me back
to the time when I was
older in my younger days

Just stepped off the plane
wide-eyed and flat-footed
The blob of clay I was trying
to mold into some
Thing

The coffee shop was a different name
but the crescent moon and
crayon sun are the same

Streets lined with broken brick
Shadows casting on the close houses
with the same trick
Doors to invite you in
and iron gates to lock you out

When I was Older in my Younger days

By Anna Resele (Copyright 2004)

I am in a time again where I feel Older in my Younger days. Miles Stanish wrote a short book called the Green Letters and talks about God's sense of time. Do you want to be a squash or an oak tree? If an oak tree, sit back and relax because that takes time. And it comes in spurts. The green shoots spring up over night, and then it seems like there is no growth at all. But the solidifying and strengthening goes on. My mind has been much clearer lately, and I have been praying for many of you. For you to find love or have love find you. For you to know you don't need love to be complete. For you to discover what brings you the most joy. And for you to be content in all circumstances. For you to find a friend. And I pray for the faith to pray for things I have given up on.

2004-05-31T20:32:00.000-07:00

I'm doing a makeover. Damn. It's not working right. And I have no idea where my comments went. John Bradley told me he had read my blog, which gave me faith that this actually may be read by people and not just the three close friends who occasionally comment. So thank you all. I'm not the writer my blog linkers are. Meet me. I'm much more articulate in person.

Anyway, latest dreams from last week. The Lenten Search has turned into a long term closet cleaning that involves research in forgiveness, depression, homeopathic medicine, cognitive therapy, and Adult Children of Alcoholics. Despite all this, I slipped into depression last week. What happened in my head at night?

I had dreams about being executed for a mistake at work, a rat about to attack my face, a fat girl tricked into marrying John Favreau, who then convinced her that really loved her and then a war. Then I had a dream I lived in a dorm where two girls committed suicide--one I saw. In slow motion she pushed a crystal vase into a ceiling fan and the shards beautifully spun around the room and I knew they would enter her body and tear her to shreds. I had a dream about a dance/theater performance and I felt self conscious talking to the performers afterward--then Jeanine Ross and Annette dropped me off in a car and Jeanine said I could think about growing my hair out. Last night I imagined an entire "opera" with the ending being Angelina Jolie, the royal warrior, captured and on trial, and finally executed by drowning in a beautiful ceremony.

Senor Negro told me he feels better when he drinks more water. I'm sorry, my dear, I'm not convinced upping H20 will solve my nocturnal epics.

I told John Bradley I'd post the book I read: Forgiving and Reconciling by Everett Worthington: Great book. Looks at the emotional aspect of forgiveness. Developing empathy is key. Its a radical way to look at forgiveness and a solid foundation to build read reconciliation. So much of what I've read about depression, overactive thinking, anger, and forgiveness deals with PERCEPTION. That is where our reality comes from.

I don't feel that Lent is over because I've realized that I've rarely felt calm and peaceful. Even in times of contentment and joy there is an underlying franticness to complete projects and move forward. It wears me out. At 27, I just don't have the energy to keep up pretences. I have the same reactions and internal compass as I had when I was four and I remember my dad laughing at me. Time to grow up. Time to see the world differently. Next I might post some discoveries of an Adult Child of an Alcoholics--any adult kid who grew up in an inconsistent, emotionally stunted, or substance-affected household can relate.

Abby and Marcus, I loved helping you out this weekend. I breathed in deep. ELVIRA!

2004-04-22T20:37:00.000-07:00

This was an interesting dream this week. I was working, although it was a very weird set up, but Jason and I were working on schedules and there were kids somewhere around. Jimmy took my list and started checking things off even though I knew we weren't done. Jason was getting irritated and I tild him to not worry, we'd fix it when Jimmy got done. At some point I went into this large suppsed hotel room--very messy--and I was tired and just wanted to sleep. I heard this thunderstorm outside and it got me a little anxious. Jason came into the room even though I knew he should have been driving somewhere. But he looked out the window and so did I. There was a huge lake and the wind was blowing but the sky was these brilliant shades of red and blue. I kept looking and looking. Then suddenly, it stopped, like it had been caused by a wind machine. Turns out it was some "show" that they were practicing for. The water calmed and the sky turned white.

Last night I dreamed of another catatrophic event. Before that I was in a class at a community college and a young kid asked me for my number to get some info, but I knew he wanted a date. I said no, but I wanted to help him find a college close to him. It cuts to an apartment where a man and woman were trapped or stayed at or something and terrible things were happening outside. At one point they were both on phones talking to people, but their skin was melting off from acid or fire or something. In scenes like this in my dreams, its not necessarily scary--its more like watching a movie.

What do you think dreams are? Adler psychology says its a parallel of real life. Yikes.

2004-04-04T20:40:00.000-07:00

My dream last night. Two nights have been vivid dreams but not as tumultuous. I was in this huge almost theme park, but it was inside. There were some swings that were really high off the ground and I was on a ramp at the top. I noticed they didn't have very good safety belts. There was a small child who was trying to get into one of them so I thought I'd help him. He got scared and sat on the ledge and I put my arms around him and told him he didn't have to go if he didn't want to. He clung to me so I picked him up and carried him away. I don't remember the rest now.

The rest of the weekend was a low-grade depression--not as bad as Monday or Tuesday but the same stuff. I forced myself to Zenon Dance Sat morning and I felt like a bag of cement the whole time. I had a hard time concentrating, I felt a little tense and then tired, my stomach would feel strange, or I had a headache. And I just couldn't decide or care what to do. Saturday I luckily had things scheduled throughout the day, but today was harder. And today I cried on the way to church, during church, and after church. I forced myself to eat all weekend.

Boy, the fruits have gone to hell. Reading Jimmy's "Caring Enough Not to Forgive," there is a question about Matt 6:12-15:
"Does this mean receiving and giving are the same thing, for forgiveness is one emotion of choosing faithfulness?" I need to think about that one.

2004-04-01T21:29:00.000-08:00

I had two weird dreams over the weekend. One was a party at Madonna's house. She was making a dip for shrimp and as she was preparing for the party she started crying because she forgot to pick up her son at school. She and some other blonde woman then started window shopping because it was night. Then I was in the car with her and as we were looking for a house the whole street started flooding. The other dream was a mix of living it this ramshackle apartment and trying to find a roommate because Jason was moving out and going to this farm of some kind, but to get there you had to travel through these giant tubes.

And this was what I wrote while I was having my panic attack last Thursday:

OK. I had two brownies yesterday and some bread today. I'm still a little sick, and I'm four days late. It's grey and cold and raining. So these all may be reasons why I feel crazy today. I had a hard time falling asleep and I woke up anxious. All day. Just numb and didn't care. Thoughts about the situation kept popping up and I feel like a fucking fool. Just resentful about people--going on trips or that no one has called me back about the dance show. Which normally wouldn't bother me. I'm annoyed at every little thing. And on the car ride home I started crying, but my nose was stuffed up so I couldn't cry very well. I'm spewing all this because I want to see if any of these feelings have to do with the time of month or the weather. I just want to crawl out of my skin, curl up in a ball, and wait in a dark corner until the sun comes out.

Strike a chord with anyone?

2004-03-31T20:08:00.000-08:00

Three dreams from last week. First, I was in this dark house. I was trying to leave, but a man came up to me and was trying to convince me that he loved me. I could even feel his breath on me (ha--I wonder if it was the cat) and I sort of gave in. But I knew there was someone else waiting for me. So I followed him, but he disappeared and I saw an older man in the kitchen. He loved me too, or something like it, and he had killed a man earlier and was going to cook up his legs (I saw the last part of Fried Green Tomatoes the other day). It was weird because they looked like giant chicken legs. I tried to move them, but someone was coming or something and I woke up in a panic. It was 5:30 and I had a hard time getting back to sleep. The next dream I was in a room but it was outside and a song by Patti Griffin was playing very loud and I had to turn it down. My sister was there and made a comment. At some point I was in a car and there was a RR crossing arm down, but a train went through and hit it and we drove right through. Later, I tried to find my car. I was in a bathing suit or my underwear and I started to climb this huge snow hill. I knew my car was buried somewhere and when I started digging, it was right there. I woke up because I got two phone calls. I drifted off to sleep again, and there were some dollhouses I was trying to arrange. Suddenly they started moving on their own and orgainzed themselves as my family came by. Blah, blah, the last bit I was talking to someone and there was a little girl-Irene-that was yelling and I told her quietly that she could ask me something, not yell. She wanted toast a woman was bringing over and I said she needed to wait a minute. Then I woke up again.

So I've officially noted it. I've had two anxiety attacks and depression about a week--clinical book definitions. I even sunk to the floor Tues morning and cried into my corn flakes because I couldn't endure the thought of getting up and going to work. I even left work early. It's weird to be experiencing all these feelings and also sitting outside of it thinking, "This is what they talk about when they talk about depression. This is what they talk about when they talk about an anxiety attack." Like the flu--you get the bug even though you drank your OJ, you throw up and lie around, and it goes away. Note: It doesn' t make you feel any better when you know you're having an anxiety attack. In fact, you feel a little ashamed that you can't overcome it since there is nothing to be scared about.

2004-03-24T14:12:00.000-08:00

Another dream about the living dead last night. There was another part of the dream but I cant remember it. But there was a room with a very ornate coffin in it. The doors were locked but people got in there anyway. It was a family. Someone got very upset because the coffin was supposed to be for the mother and a girl was in there (sort of As I Lay Dying-ish by Faulkner. Good book). I realized the whole family was actually dead, including me. I was then trying to be careful to wash my face (b/c I was decaying) and my teeth were falling out, so I pulled some out. There was talking going on around me and at some point there was a reference by a guy--a brother?--that some sexual relationships had occurred between him and a girl/me? there. (Many times I am part watching and part in the dream).

Ick. The ColOmbian just IMed me that rotting teeth can mean a warning that your health is in jeopardy. Hmmm.

Goodness. This verse keeps popping up and I like it: "Remember this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work." 2 Corn 9:14

Again, God enables us to be stewards of his fruit. I can only give so much, for whatever reason--my own limitations, my circumstance, my sins--but God can give us the grace to rise to the occasion and give good things--whatever they are. God is ok with our limitations. Paul later describes it as an "indescribable gift." Yip.

2004-03-22T19:00:00.000-08:00

I found a good definition for goodness for myself. Goodness is the consistent actions that creates restoration of health, healing, and balance. Something as simple as giving flowers to forgiveness and mercy to saying no with integrity is about an action that tries to instill healing, correct a wrong, uplift, restore.

The thing about goodness is that is changes form situation to situation. You need discernment to know what will restore in every situation. I'm seeing more and more that it's not about what you know as a Christian or even what you know is right, but the wisdom to know what to do with it. It goes back to gentleness and a comment Wise M said. I'm paraphrasing, cuz I can't remember exactly how she said it, but the gist is that it's not just about what the truth is or bringing the truth to someone's eyes, but it's how you do it. Sometimes telling the truth is more about making you feel better and right than about the other person. The discernment is to know, what is best for the situation? Who needs the healing here? Goodness utilizes the gentleness, patience, kindness, mercy, knowledge, love, you name it.

Last night's dream--I actually didn't remember it at first. It might have been the cold medicine. Now I can't sleep because I can't breathe and my throat feels like a saw's been at it. But two images. At some point, Wise M and I were talking and sliding down this huge convoluted slide. It was very high, and I was afraid of falling, but I tried to relax and enjoy it. Wise M went first and seemed to think it was fun. It was dark and cold outside, and the slide was made out of some strange material. Another image from the dream was a date in a coffee-type shop between Hugh Grant who didn't look like Hugh Grant and some woman. At one point the woman had her head down like she was sleeping and lifted it up and she had been crying. She dreamed about her husband and a baby that I think had died. She made a comment that Hugh probably didn't think much of this date since they were just friends. So I realized then it wasn't a date.

2004-03-21T09:15:00.000-08:00

Things to note about traveling through Southern Minnesota: every "family restaurant" no matter what ethnic origin--Irish, Greek, Polish, German--has the same chicken noodle soup. Entering said restaurant between 2 and 3:30 means you are the youngest there. Yes, you are. Starbucks has not yet infiltrated small town America--and I am shocked to find I am sad for it. Nice housewives can work at gas stations, and they give you free coffee. You can be famous just by being unknown and walking into a school wearing striped knees socks from Target. When people ask, "Are you visiting?" they already know you are. What they really want to know is what you're doing there.

Goodness--the new fruit. Haven't read too much on it. The thesaurus has a hard time pinning it down. Virtue, friendliness, generosity, honesty, integrity, morality, nourishment (THAT is an interesting one), kindness, mercy. I am reminded of CS Lewis' dilemma--two men drowning and you can only save one. So you are good to one and not the other. Goodness can seem sort of objective. And is goodness in the intent or in the product? Can you do something good and it be taken badly, or do something and it turn out to be a good thing? Hmmm....

2004-03-17T06:47:00.000-08:00

For two nights I got through without remembering my dream or waking up anxious and tense. Last night I had a dream--several parts. I was at work and Tracy, a roommate from college, came to visit. I was showing her around and took her outside the office to talk. I wanted to tell her about everything that has gone on but she wasn't responding that much and wasn't talking. She left and I walked out the door because I had to somewhere but I didn't know where. So I started walking. As I was going I realized I was picking up a student but as I approached a school I knew I wasn't picking up a student, I was going to see something. I walked into an auditorium and there was an assembly, so I knew I was going to see a student receive an award. I floor in front of me turned into a swimming pool and I saw from underwater a younger Hispanic boy. I didn't know him but I knew I was supposed to watch him. An older girl was there. He wanted to win the race, but he also liked her. Right before the race started, she took his eyes (that's right--it wasn't gruesome, but she took his eyes). That made him more determined and started swimming. There were tons of kids, splashing and swimming, but the boy pushed through and won.

There was a shift in the story, and I was sitting in front of a small man and woman (or were they far away?), and they were a king and queen. She was telling him that he needs more confidence, and I was relieved because I wanted to say something but didn't think it was my place. Then I woke up.

2004-03-16T20:35:00.000-08:00

Gentleness: delicate, easy, gradual, hushed, placid, quiet, serene, soothing versus harsh, jarring, ungracious, jagged, grating. I think of a balm on a sun burn or trying to capture a bird with a broken wing. Petting a cat. There is action, but it is gradual and temperate, with the intent to do what needs to be accomplished but without harm. Jesus said he was gentle in spirit. It doesn't mean you don't tell the truth or skim over a bad situation. But is does mean an intent that soothes and quiets. To dig up a plant, careful of the roots, rather than tearing it out with tight fists. Again, this takes peace, patience, and self-control. I'm beginning to think these things cannot live without each other.

Two days of driving around Southwestern Minnesota--dangerously close to Iowa. This road trip was a good thing to stumble into at this time. Just the action of getting in the car and moving into open spaces was very freeing. The ground is cold and hard, the landscape barren, but with a sense of promise and expectation. I guess that's what Lent is all about. There is a beauty about it. The cool sunlight barely breaks through the heavy rolling clouds with thick transparency, like a vinyl shower curtain. While the roads like Friday curved around the muddy fields, this drive through Slayton and Worthington was straight with angular lines. Highway 60 cuts on a clean diagonal through the state. You can drive with two mindsets. One is to leave something behind, dragging thoughts a circumstances from your bumper as you would with tin cans on your wedding day. The other is to push yourself forward, expecting to go to something. I don't know what that is. And I still feel I am leaving things behind and I am lighter for it.

Thank you, Jean and--what was his name?--he wore black and white fatigues with a grey T-shirt and had that little patch of beard just under his bottom lip. In a cool coffee shop called the Left Back Cafe (www.leftbankcafe.biz) with a mix of old worn wooden booths and Girl grunge music playing in the background. Talking coffee--they roast their own beans, they taste every batch, he just went to a convention where he found some interesting wild rice and spices, taste his curry sauce and the coffee of the day. The Indian beans are the best because of the soil at that place on the equator and they also grow cinnamon. I wish that coffee shop weren't 4 hours away in Slayton (the motel there is a bit Bates-ish, if you know what I mean).

2004-03-14T14:03:00.000-08:00

Hey, I can’t seem to change my comments from top to bottom--any suggestions?

From Tues, March 8:

I enjoyed today. I spent a lot of time working on my schedule for the next week and chatting with the Columbian. I mentioned my self-control images, and I thought of another--the rudder of a boat. He gave a good image of self-control. A faucet. There is always pressure behind it, but you hold the control of how much water comes out. Our impulses that drive us--sexually, emotionally, physically, aesthetically--are always churning within us. And KP had a good point in that our emotions--I would even say all of our impulses--do not inherently have a value on them. We assign guilt or shame to them. Repression attaches guilt and condemnation, while self-control directs and allows.

"We have to be careful about listening to guilt feelings to tell us when we are wrong, for often, the guilt feelings themselves are wrong. In addition guilt feelings are not good motivators anyway. It is hard to love from a condemned place. We need to feel not condemned, so that we can feel "godly sorrow" that looks to the hurt we have caused someone else, instead of how bad we are. Guilt distorts reality, gets us away from the truth, and away from what is best for the other person."

2 Corn 9:7-8 "Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work."

I have felt very guilty. Guilty for being emotional, crying and upset that people need to take notice and care for me. Guilty for being rash and guilty for struggling with hate. Guilty for not wanting to give up those things when others wanted me too. But I realized today that it was under compulsion, out of guilt that I have been making amends, and that is not real love and will not ultimately work anyway. That I cannot love them until I can give it freely, the amount I want to give, even if they want more. And I can do without the rest because that love will be truthful, and His grace will make it sufficient.

I came home with some places to call for ballroom dance, and the Columbian wants me to listen to some of his music and maybe even sing harmony. That fills me up. I got a notice that the rental company of the car that hit me in December is making a claim for $1700. That image last night--standing in a field and watching the army guard my borders--is very helpful to me. And turning off the faucet, because I am plagued by voices all the time. Conversations and rationales that will probably never happen and worthless to think about. I can just turn that faucet off. So I went to yoga, to breathe and focus on pushing out the shit and pulling in energy and space, with that sweet smelling gunk that reminds me of Vicks (I love it). I pay $15.50 to slow down since I cannot do it on my own.

"Impulses are to be matured and structured in healthy ways, not simply acted on when they tell us to. That is the essence of self-control...Learn to verbalize, express, and deal with our strong impulses..." Ok, good, but a little more would help. What is the structure? How do you "deal"?

2004-03-11T09:43:00.000-08:00

For the ColOmbian--my dream last night...

A lot had happened, but I can't remember now. But there were aliens invading the planet that looked like people. I had been going along with things until this point in the dream, when I realized I had to escape and get people ready to fight. I saw a car driving down the street and flagged it down. By this time the "aliens" or people siding with them knew I knew. I jumped into the car told the driver to go. We were driving in very hilly country, very convoluted, and I was trying to explain that we needed to hide because the planet was being taken over. I was crying very hard. I noticed a car and some people from far away--or maybe I knew that was out there and didn't really see it. (In my dreams, I seem to know what other things are going on that aren't in front of me). And we ended up in this barrack of sorts--again it was very convoluted, more like a house with a lot of rooms and staircases. There were some people from church there, but I didn't really talk to any of them. I was really upset and the person that drove me clearly was this taller man with blonde hair and a scruffy beard. He came over to me and held me because I was so upset. Then he kissed me--and, well, things progressed. I think I figured since it was the end of the world...you know. But then I "knew" that we wouldn't die that night, that I'd get pregnant and we'd still be living in this house by the time the baby was born. And then I think I woke up. I had another dream later--just as convoluted, kind of about the summer program I work for, but I can't remember enough. It was not as dramatic though.

Dreams, anyone? Can you top that?

2004-03-10T14:48:00.000-08:00

This dream was from last Saturday:

Two dreams last night. The first one had some sort of reenactment from Pirates of the Caribbean--some sort of sword fight I think. But then there were ghosts. I frequently have dreams like this, some unknown force is going to be unleashed, some ghosty thing. I don't remember the details now. I wake up suddenly and in a fright. It took me a second to realize it was a dream. The second dream I was wandering around this huge corporation--my bosses had left and I didn't have anything to do so I kept wandering around--through a grocery store, a long stair case, an empty lunch room.

...Do other people dream like I do?

I've been studying self-control for the last 4 days:

1 Peter 5:8-10 "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself RESTORE you and make you STRONG, FIRM, and STEADFAST."

God has to give it to you somehow. It is given through grace. And I think just now: Self-control is a lion-tamer. The lion-tamer creates direction and purpose. Is wary and aware. Is awake and on watch. Not always in action but always present.

I've been wondering too--what's the difference between being wronged and feeling wronged? Ultimately, does it matter? Don't you have to go through the same steps no matter what?

2004-03-09T12:42:00.000-08:00

So for Lent I'm delving into a long history of emotional habits which is exhausting and interesting--this past year has been a strange season, a season in the making for probably 27 years. I've done a lot of crying. But I don't mind. I love crying. I've felt it building up over the past couple weeks. I think it helps the body flush out whatever shit it's keeping inside--emotional shitting, maybe. It's much more romantic than that sounds though. Emotional peeing is more appropriate, but I don't like the sound of that either. I was surprised that I cried considering how apathetic I felt all day. I attribute this all to hormones and a compromised emotional life.I'm also meditating on the fruits of the spirit, a different one every five days. This blog will be laden with deep thoughts and bible verses until Easter, and then it will hopefully develop into more of the standard whimsical, quipped blogs that I love to read everyday.

Some thoughts on peace and patience:

Images of Peace--a floating bobber. It can't go down. Or a bright green leaf, curving with a slight spin, droplets of water reflecting warm sunlight. Peace acts like a warrior, keeping peril at bay, but I like the idea of him coming home at night with big arms to wrap around me. The perfect position of pillow and heavy blanket surrounding my body after a long busy day, blood settling down in the bed. And deep sighs. Ever took the time to completely allow your breath to escape from your lungs. It takes a lot longer than you think.

Peace is a protectant, like those polymers or sythetic goos they put on medical instruments. It doesn't let gunk touch what's valuable. Christ gives us peace. I like to think of that as not having to work for it. Buddhism bothers me because I feel like there's so much work to attain this peace--no grace. You do all the work. Christ offers us this. Now there is some work involved, and I haven't found a clever quip to come back with yet. Because I've had to fight for peace lately. But that's what He promised, and I'm sticking to it.

"Patience has an end. It does no wait forever without good reason."

Patience is so important. Its the stuff that feeds peace. The gas that makes it go. I actually enjoyed the distraction of working today. Getting a CD and buying pork roast. Cutting up garlic and realizing the only thing going on in my head was a song on the radio that now I can't remember. Trying to memorize an Over the Rhine song in the car. Are these the things that make up patience?

Lastly, today, I'll leave you with a dream I had. My dreams are FREAKY.

OK, this was the end of the dream, but I know the Pastor was in it earlier--I was trying to show him something that I thought was very funny. Snuggles came up and wanted to take me on a late night airplane ride. So I get in this two seater and buckle up with two seat belts and we take off. I didn't know she had learned to fly, but she was saying how romantic it was (and I felt bad that she was with me and not some man). I realized she was taking me to California--which was not the state, but a small town up in the Arctic circle. I watched the map below us and there were miles of land and then this big lake and then the town--it looked like the word Ludifus or something like that. I asked if the sun ever set there because I heard that happened up north and when we got there it was sunny. I wanted to head back because I knew it was really the middle of the night. It was a small town like Holland, MI, cold, but with the sun the townspeople were wearing shorts anyway. There was a parade, so Snuggles and I stopped to watch. B walked up--she had been visiting the town all day. As we sat a and talked some creepy teenager sat down and a tear rolled down B's cheek. I said plainly, "Is everything ok?" and she brushed it off. I thought I shouldn't have done that because I made her uncomfortable. Then another kid sat down close next to me and I yelled at him. He sat a little further away and I asked him his name. I didn't know if he spoke English, but he did and said in a thick accent "Timothy." So I started asking him about the parade. Turns out his friends paid him $5 to ask me a question--shoot, can't remember now. Then I woke up.