05 November 2004

A Relationship, in one act

Blight
uptight
polite
Height?
BITE!
~fight~
Smite
_fright_

flight

-->tight<--
contrite
might
night
light
bright

Quite.

'So Bob, do you like your job?'


McBeth.

"Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from listening. I must listen to my life and try to understand what it is truly about - or my life will never represent anything real in the world, no matter how earnest my intentions."

-Parker Palmer, excerpted from 'Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation

03 November 2004


McBeth.

Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer. ~Plutarch, Moralia

Visions


McBeth.

I cannot find graciousness in my heart today. I can't breathe either.

My president, the man who appears to be the person who will continue to be in charge of my country for another four years, was willing to throw me - ME - on top of the fire as a sacrifice to appease the fears of immovable right wingers everywhere. That is unforgiveable.

I've been burned and have sustained severe nerve damage. I'm worried. I'm sick. I want my own self-contolled morphine IV drip because it appears that Nurse Bush certainly isn't going to be offering me pain relief.

02 November 2004


new points of light

The sparkle of possibility

I woke this morning with a highly unusual thought. Even for me. Especially for me.
The first idea that came into my mind after my eyes sleepily opened was this:

This is a great day for a revolution.

How often do I consider my days as such opportunities? Not often. But I wonder how I might be different in my own life if I did try to think of revolutionary changes I might help to make happen, even something so small as taking the initiative to say something kind to the people I can least tolerate. Revolutions come in mysterious packages, after all.

Another "wheelie" memorable point to my activities today will be that today - election day - is the day I had to figure out what to do about the thumb-sized hole in the rear passenger side of my car. I just paid for a new spiffy set of good tires earlier this year and wouldn't you know it, last night I managed to poke an impressive hole through the wall of one of them. Piss. Oh well, it's just a wheel.

For all that is good and just in the universe, I hope my revolutionary vote, and the votes of all disenfranchised, unhappy, unimpressed, lied-to, bitter, ready for something new U.S. citizens will be properly counted, that our collective revolution will speak to the rest of the world (who has every right to doubt and dismiss us as a collective collateral mess), that we can begin to have hope of new possibilities.


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