After some thought about the benefits of keeping a gratitude journal and comments from Siona and Kat I decided to make a new blog just for that. I will try to post daily. I made it a separate blog so as not to clutter this one since many of the things I am grateful to will undoubtedly be interesting only to me and will be repetitive. So if you are so inclined, check out A Grateful Heart.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Peace
From The Power of Intention by Wayne Dyer
Be the peace you're seeking from others. If peace is missing in your relationships with your family, it means that you have a place within you that's occupied by non-peace. It may be filled with anxiety, fear, anger, depression, guilt, or any low-energy emotions. Rather than attempting to rid yourself of these feelings all at once, treat them the same as you do your relatives. Say a friendly Hello to the non-peace, and let it be. You're sending a peaceful feeling to the non-peace feeling.
I have also been trying something similar with my negative self-talk statements. I just acknowledge the statement neutrally (Thank you for sharing). It feels better to do this than to be upset with myself for thinking negatively. And it deflates or disempowers the statement. I don't understand why this works but surprisingly it does.
Why did I chose to write about peace tonight? I guess because I had so much conflict with my stepson this evening and I feel that I didn't handle it peacefully. I lost my temper and was dragged into an argument about nothing. This is a recurring event and I don't know how to prevent it. In this case, I didn't initiate it. It seemed to me that he sought me out to fight with.
Be the peace you're seeking from others. If peace is missing in your relationships with your family, it means that you have a place within you that's occupied by non-peace. It may be filled with anxiety, fear, anger, depression, guilt, or any low-energy emotions. Rather than attempting to rid yourself of these feelings all at once, treat them the same as you do your relatives. Say a friendly Hello to the non-peace, and let it be. You're sending a peaceful feeling to the non-peace feeling.
I have also been trying something similar with my negative self-talk statements. I just acknowledge the statement neutrally (Thank you for sharing). It feels better to do this than to be upset with myself for thinking negatively. And it deflates or disempowers the statement. I don't understand why this works but surprisingly it does.
Why did I chose to write about peace tonight? I guess because I had so much conflict with my stepson this evening and I feel that I didn't handle it peacefully. I lost my temper and was dragged into an argument about nothing. This is a recurring event and I don't know how to prevent it. In this case, I didn't initiate it. It seemed to me that he sought me out to fight with.
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Tough day to live in NY
I feel sad today. Why? It started when I woke up. Why? Is it because of the day? Because so many people around here are sad today?
Ok, so I am sad. I guess I can be sad. I can just let it be. I don't have to change it or push it away. Sadness is not something to fear, something to resist, something to cure. I will just let it fill me. I will feel it. I am sad because there is suffering, there is unhappiness, there is striving that leads to nowhere, there is effort that falls down in vain.
Crying in Starbucks
I imagine someone asking me
"Why are you so sad. Did you lose someone in 9/11?"
No, I didn't lose anyone
And yes, I lost everyone
Everyone who died, I lost
Not even knowing I had them
Ok, so I am sad. I guess I can be sad. I can just let it be. I don't have to change it or push it away. Sadness is not something to fear, something to resist, something to cure. I will just let it fill me. I will feel it. I am sad because there is suffering, there is unhappiness, there is striving that leads to nowhere, there is effort that falls down in vain.
Crying in Starbucks
I imagine someone asking me
"Why are you so sad. Did you lose someone in 9/11?"
No, I didn't lose anyone
And yes, I lost everyone
Everyone who died, I lost
Not even knowing I had them
My mother's portrait
Today I feel like
how I remember my mother
Sitting drinking
cup after cup of coffee
black
Smoking, elbow on the table
smoke drifting up
reluctant to depart
Her eyes
focused on a point infinitely far
Some place in the past
or the future
or, perhaps
nowhere at all
All alone
how I remember my mother
Sitting drinking
cup after cup of coffee
black
Smoking, elbow on the table
smoke drifting up
reluctant to depart
Her eyes
focused on a point infinitely far
Some place in the past
or the future
or, perhaps
nowhere at all
All alone
Friday, September 10, 2004
Gratitude leads to happiness
People who wrote a list of things they were grateful for were happier overall than people who wrote lists of upsetting or neutral events.
I came across this idea in the Oct. issue of shape last night while biking to nowhere at the gym. Being a total science geek with University library access, I looked up the original article in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.
Basically they asked people to journal either weekly or daily about A-things they were grateful for B-things that annoyed them or C-just things that happened. The participants also rated how they felt about themselves, the world and the future. The groups that wrote gratitude journals had a more positive outlook, exercised more, and rated themselves more energetic, joyful, and enthusiastic than the other groups did.
I would like to try to put this idea to my own test but I haven't quite decided how to do it. Should I write my gratitude list here? Will that be too boring for people? Maybe I should just write it in a paper journal? I'll think about it and let you know.
I guess it is just human nature or our modern training that encourages us to focus on the negative rather than the positive, on complaining rather than being grateful. How many times did people hold a door for me today? How many times did they smile? 4 or 5 at the least. And yet, if one person had been rude, I would have thought about it, I would have told all my friends, I may even have written about here or someplace else. But about the many positive experiences I had with members of the human race - nada. But if you don't stop to appreciate the good things people do, you forget, they pass right through you and don't affect you, they don't change you, they don't impress themselves in you. You don't make them yours, add them to your heart, and tenderize it. Rather, we tend to take the hurtful things and cast them in bronze to wear around our necks. To harden our heart, to encase it in brittle bitterness. How many people were loving to me today? I can't even begin to count. My husband patted my head when we were stopped at a stoplight on the way home from work, a loving, joyful caress of love. Many people smiled at me at work starting with Max, our custodian who takes such pride in his work that I feel I should thank him everyday. I had a wonderful lunch with my dear friend C. She told me so many uplifting stories about her cousins. I thought about how wonderful it is that I have had to chance to know her, how much she has enriched my life. I could write for much longer and still would not describe all the gifts that today, a completely ordinary day, brought me. But without these few minutes of thought, without writing some words, I would have missed it all. It would have evaporated into nothingness while the other events, mundane or negative remained, like the a dirty bathtub ring after a perfectly pleasant and soothing bath. I wonder if it is because these events and feelings are higher and lighter that they tend to float away if we don't make an effort to grab them and really experience them and acknowledge them.
I came across this idea in the Oct. issue of shape last night while biking to nowhere at the gym. Being a total science geek with University library access, I looked up the original article in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.
Basically they asked people to journal either weekly or daily about A-things they were grateful for B-things that annoyed them or C-just things that happened. The participants also rated how they felt about themselves, the world and the future. The groups that wrote gratitude journals had a more positive outlook, exercised more, and rated themselves more energetic, joyful, and enthusiastic than the other groups did.
I would like to try to put this idea to my own test but I haven't quite decided how to do it. Should I write my gratitude list here? Will that be too boring for people? Maybe I should just write it in a paper journal? I'll think about it and let you know.
I guess it is just human nature or our modern training that encourages us to focus on the negative rather than the positive, on complaining rather than being grateful. How many times did people hold a door for me today? How many times did they smile? 4 or 5 at the least. And yet, if one person had been rude, I would have thought about it, I would have told all my friends, I may even have written about here or someplace else. But about the many positive experiences I had with members of the human race - nada. But if you don't stop to appreciate the good things people do, you forget, they pass right through you and don't affect you, they don't change you, they don't impress themselves in you. You don't make them yours, add them to your heart, and tenderize it. Rather, we tend to take the hurtful things and cast them in bronze to wear around our necks. To harden our heart, to encase it in brittle bitterness. How many people were loving to me today? I can't even begin to count. My husband patted my head when we were stopped at a stoplight on the way home from work, a loving, joyful caress of love. Many people smiled at me at work starting with Max, our custodian who takes such pride in his work that I feel I should thank him everyday. I had a wonderful lunch with my dear friend C. She told me so many uplifting stories about her cousins. I thought about how wonderful it is that I have had to chance to know her, how much she has enriched my life. I could write for much longer and still would not describe all the gifts that today, a completely ordinary day, brought me. But without these few minutes of thought, without writing some words, I would have missed it all. It would have evaporated into nothingness while the other events, mundane or negative remained, like the a dirty bathtub ring after a perfectly pleasant and soothing bath. I wonder if it is because these events and feelings are higher and lighter that they tend to float away if we don't make an effort to grab them and really experience them and acknowledge them.
Thursday, September 9, 2004
More
A few days after my 40th birthday, I got an invitation to try More magazine, the magazine for women over 40. Well, that didn't take long. I was pretty upset about it actually. I wasn't ready to think of myself as an over 40 woman. I was ready to throw the envelope into the trash, uninspected but I couldn't. Curiosity caught me. What does a magazine for women over 40 look like, what kind of articles do they have? Maybe the will be more intelligent than the drivel in Cosmo or Glamour? I looked through it, like the overly curious girl that I am and they had 2 pictures of Jamie Lee Curtis (full article). One with her looking fabulous, like she always does, and one with her in underwear, no makeup, and flat hair. I looked at her and thought, wow she looks like me. I don't mean she looks like me really but she looks about as good as I look, give or take. She has some flab, she has some cellulite. She looks like a normal person. And she's smiling. I would hardly be able to keep from grimacing in her position. What a cool woman! I wanna buy that magazine. And I did. I know it's not good to read women's magazines, but I figured one that actually made me feel good about my body, might be ok.
I received the Sept. issue. I like the fall fashions. They look like I could wear them. There is an ok article about Stepmothers, nothing I didn't already know. And there is an article called Meditate or Medicate? Can the spritual approach really help those suffering from depression? Although it advocates meditation, the article cautions that a combination of medicine and meditation may be required. My personal experience is that when I meditate more regularly, I feel better emotionally. Another reason to stop avoiding the cushion.
I received the Sept. issue. I like the fall fashions. They look like I could wear them. There is an ok article about Stepmothers, nothing I didn't already know. And there is an article called Meditate or Medicate? Can the spritual approach really help those suffering from depression? Although it advocates meditation, the article cautions that a combination of medicine and meditation may be required. My personal experience is that when I meditate more regularly, I feel better emotionally. Another reason to stop avoiding the cushion.
Sometimes I hear my voice
I found this Natalie Goldberg quote on Whiskey River.
I write because I kept my mouth shut all my life. I write because I am alone and move through the world alone. No one will know what has passed through me, and even more amazing, I don't know.
- Natalie Goldberg
Writing Down The Bones
I copy it here because it is so true for me. I have always been afraid to speak, afraid of the sound of my own voice. In class, I was terrified to be called on, even though I knew the answer. I would sound stupid. To ask a question (as I knew a good student should (this is in college!) I would screw up my courage for minutes, rehearsing in my head, a nervous wreck the whole time and then still chicken out. When I first started to learn about chakras I had the feeling that my throat chakra was blocked (and still is). Lately, after a lot of personal work, I feel more comfortable speaking. There is still more work to do for me to become casual about speaking to more than one person. I still challenge myself. I am volunteering to teach (med students no less eek!) and as I have said before, I want to take acting lessons. It has always been easier for me to write than to speak. But still, showing what I write to the world, that hasn't been easy either. I think each one helps the other. The more I write here and find some kind of acceptance, the easier it is to speak up during meetings at work. The better conversations with strangers at parties turn out, the more my writing flows from my true heart. As Tori Amos sings:
"sometimes I hear my voice and it's been HERE silent all these years"
I write because I kept my mouth shut all my life. I write because I am alone and move through the world alone. No one will know what has passed through me, and even more amazing, I don't know.
- Natalie Goldberg
Writing Down The Bones
I copy it here because it is so true for me. I have always been afraid to speak, afraid of the sound of my own voice. In class, I was terrified to be called on, even though I knew the answer. I would sound stupid. To ask a question (as I knew a good student should (this is in college!) I would screw up my courage for minutes, rehearsing in my head, a nervous wreck the whole time and then still chicken out. When I first started to learn about chakras I had the feeling that my throat chakra was blocked (and still is). Lately, after a lot of personal work, I feel more comfortable speaking. There is still more work to do for me to become casual about speaking to more than one person. I still challenge myself. I am volunteering to teach (med students no less eek!) and as I have said before, I want to take acting lessons. It has always been easier for me to write than to speak. But still, showing what I write to the world, that hasn't been easy either. I think each one helps the other. The more I write here and find some kind of acceptance, the easier it is to speak up during meetings at work. The better conversations with strangers at parties turn out, the more my writing flows from my true heart. As Tori Amos sings:
"sometimes I hear my voice and it's been HERE silent all these years"
Wednesday, September 8, 2004
Dusk
This is a poem I wrote more than 20 years ago. I think it relates to the feelings of uncertainty and loneliness that I described in yesterday's post.
I.
Far away a dim light glows
Then the light rays bend
Now, more quickly, the small light goes
Never to be seen again
II.
Why is it that when it's dusk
The world is so hard to see?
It seems that when the vision matters most
The light looks so dim to me
III.
At an earlier age the time was bright
And the roses looked very different from the thorns
But now all the world is night
The dark air is damp from rain
And I often wonder if I am touching a flower
Or, are my fingers too numb to feel the pain?
I.
Far away a dim light glows
Then the light rays bend
Now, more quickly, the small light goes
Never to be seen again
II.
Why is it that when it's dusk
The world is so hard to see?
It seems that when the vision matters most
The light looks so dim to me
III.
At an earlier age the time was bright
And the roses looked very different from the thorns
But now all the world is night
The dark air is damp from rain
And I often wonder if I am touching a flower
Or, are my fingers too numb to feel the pain?
Tuesday, September 7, 2004
Searching for truth
From Hardcore Zen: Punk Rock, Monster Movies & the Truth About Reality
But if you really thoroughly question everything, if you pursue your questions long enough and honestly enough, there will come a time when truth will wallop you upside the head and you will know.
Not knowing is what brought me to the spiritual path. As a child in church, I tried very hard to believe, like a good girl should (as I thought she should). I tried and tried and I never felt the knowing, the security, that I had read about others feeling. I was unsure, alone and scared. So then I turned to science. I thought if I could learn everything in the books, if I could become a real scientist, I would know things. But as all scientists learn, what you really find in science are more questions. And what you know, you don't really know because you have to be ready to change your hypothesis to fit any new data that may come along. You can't afford to be sure about anything. We talk to each other using terms like suggest and implicate not know and not certainty. We learn to couch our statements in may and might, to sprinkle words of caution between the statements of fact. Or maybe that's just me. Maybe I am not ready for knowing. The idea of knowing reminds me of my childhood fantasy of some man on a white horse saving me. At first, it was my father, his strong arms comforting me during scary movies and roller coaster rides. Later I hoped for a prince. But those ideas were fantasy. In reality, my father didn't save me, he got drunk and terrorized us. I learned to hope for a savior but at the same time, to save myself, always wishing I could relax, let go and be caught in someone's arms, and at the same time, sadly aware that there were no arms to catch me. I was on my own. I guess that's not too bad but it never seemed enough. Not secure enough, not safe enough. With me alone, there was no absolute, no independent measure. Am I kidding myself, deceiveing myself? How could I know? It was this nagging question that prodded me on this path and it is still pushing. And I am still walking, seeking, searching, and crawling. I hope Warner is right. I hope someday I will know, just simply know. Right now, I can't imagine anything better than that.
But if you really thoroughly question everything, if you pursue your questions long enough and honestly enough, there will come a time when truth will wallop you upside the head and you will know.
Not knowing is what brought me to the spiritual path. As a child in church, I tried very hard to believe, like a good girl should (as I thought she should). I tried and tried and I never felt the knowing, the security, that I had read about others feeling. I was unsure, alone and scared. So then I turned to science. I thought if I could learn everything in the books, if I could become a real scientist, I would know things. But as all scientists learn, what you really find in science are more questions. And what you know, you don't really know because you have to be ready to change your hypothesis to fit any new data that may come along. You can't afford to be sure about anything. We talk to each other using terms like suggest and implicate not know and not certainty. We learn to couch our statements in may and might, to sprinkle words of caution between the statements of fact. Or maybe that's just me. Maybe I am not ready for knowing. The idea of knowing reminds me of my childhood fantasy of some man on a white horse saving me. At first, it was my father, his strong arms comforting me during scary movies and roller coaster rides. Later I hoped for a prince. But those ideas were fantasy. In reality, my father didn't save me, he got drunk and terrorized us. I learned to hope for a savior but at the same time, to save myself, always wishing I could relax, let go and be caught in someone's arms, and at the same time, sadly aware that there were no arms to catch me. I was on my own. I guess that's not too bad but it never seemed enough. Not secure enough, not safe enough. With me alone, there was no absolute, no independent measure. Am I kidding myself, deceiveing myself? How could I know? It was this nagging question that prodded me on this path and it is still pushing. And I am still walking, seeking, searching, and crawling. I hope Warner is right. I hope someday I will know, just simply know. Right now, I can't imagine anything better than that.
Saturday, September 4, 2004
What color is your world?
Found this quiz at angel's place. Curiously, she was the same color.
#40E0D0 |
Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well. Your saturation level is higher than average - You know what you want, but sometimes know not to tell everyone. You value accomplishments and know you can get the job done, so don't be afraid to run out and make things happen. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything. |
Friday, September 3, 2004
Some thoughts for Siona
Dear Siona:
You touched my heart with your comment. Although I haven't taken much time lately to blog, I am pretty active in a web forum I believe strongly in, the Childless Stepmom Forum. I am recycling something I wrote there since it gives a view of my mental ruminations of late. I am posting this for you Siona. I am very glad I met you.
Today on the Childless Stepmom Forum the founder posted a meditation that made me consider, for at least the thousandth time, how I can balance the two, seemingly opposed ideologies, which make me feel like I live on a seesaw. One set of philosophies I read and believe in emphasizes dissolving the ego, giving yourself, becoming self-less. I read these and about the lives of people who have done this, Mother Teresa, Gandhi. Who can criticize this? Then I read about another set of philosophies about taking care of yourself, 'good selfishness', etc. I feel in my heart that somewhere these two ideas must meet. I mean, it is kind of selfish to sit all day and meditate, isn't it? That person could be cleaning up trash, taking care of an orphan, campaigning for her choice in the presidential election, protesting poverty. But honestly, I still haven't 'got it'. I haven't come either to a place of balance and harmony with these two seemingly opposing ideas or grasped how they are one and the same. I feel in my heart that something is there for me to grasp, that there is some understanding that is just out of reach but no matter how hard I squint my brain, I don't 'see' it. This feeling is unpleasant and busyness is a great distractor. When I get this feeling, I just let my mind drift to all my unfinished work and poof, the uneasiness disappears.
You touched my heart with your comment. Although I haven't taken much time lately to blog, I am pretty active in a web forum I believe strongly in, the Childless Stepmom Forum. I am recycling something I wrote there since it gives a view of my mental ruminations of late. I am posting this for you Siona. I am very glad I met you.
Today on the Childless Stepmom Forum the founder posted a meditation that made me consider, for at least the thousandth time, how I can balance the two, seemingly opposed ideologies, which make me feel like I live on a seesaw. One set of philosophies I read and believe in emphasizes dissolving the ego, giving yourself, becoming self-less. I read these and about the lives of people who have done this, Mother Teresa, Gandhi. Who can criticize this? Then I read about another set of philosophies about taking care of yourself, 'good selfishness', etc. I feel in my heart that somewhere these two ideas must meet. I mean, it is kind of selfish to sit all day and meditate, isn't it? That person could be cleaning up trash, taking care of an orphan, campaigning for her choice in the presidential election, protesting poverty. But honestly, I still haven't 'got it'. I haven't come either to a place of balance and harmony with these two seemingly opposing ideas or grasped how they are one and the same. I feel in my heart that something is there for me to grasp, that there is some understanding that is just out of reach but no matter how hard I squint my brain, I don't 'see' it. This feeling is unpleasant and busyness is a great distractor. When I get this feeling, I just let my mind drift to all my unfinished work and poof, the uneasiness disappears.
Thursday, September 2, 2004
Busy... too busy
Lot's to do at work and at home so my blogging is on hiatus. Sorry. I may not be back until middle of October :(
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Happy Birthday Gene
Today is Gene Roddenberry's birthday.
A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away.
---Gene Roddenberry
Time is the fire in which we burn.
---Gene Roddenberry
A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away.
---Gene Roddenberry
Time is the fire in which we burn.
---Gene Roddenberry
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Already filled with waste
From Daily Grist, an environmental newsletter from Grist Magazine:
Glen Burn Coal Mine Breaker, Shamokin, PA
And not far is the famous burning town, Centralia, where underground mine fire made the entire town unfit to live in. I think it is very clear, we don't need less environmental protections we need more! Let's not go back to the 'good old days'.
Smoldering hillside near Centralia, PA
A PLAN FIENDISHLY CLEVER IN ITS INTRICACIES
Bush's Small Tweaks to Regulations Carry Large ConsequencesWell I know something about coal mining. I grew up in the coal region of PA. My grandfather started 'picking' coal (sorting the smaller pieces of coal from rock) as a young boy. Friends and family earned their living and started their dying (black lung, emphysema) in the mines. My hometown of Shamokin has huge culm banks, mountains really, made from discarded coal waste.
In the third installment of its in-depth three-article series on Bush administration regulatory changes, The Washington Post today focuses on the way the administration circumvents public debate and legislation in favor of making small changes in regulatory wording that carry huge consequences -- removing the word "hazardous" from mercury emission regs, reclassifying nuclear waste from "high-level" to "incidental," and perhaps most portentously, changing the name of debris from mountaintop-removal coal mines from "waste" to "fill." The latter change -- the "fill rule" of 2002 -- has led to a boom in a practice that is loathed not only by enviros but by a growing majority of rural Appalachians, who object to the irremediable destruction of landscapes where their families have lived for generations. Some 700 miles of headwater streams have been buried in "fill" and more than 240 species of fish adversely affected. As it happens, the coal industry has raised $9 million for Republicans since 1998.
straight to the source: The Washington Post, Joby Warrick, 17 Aug 2004
Glen Burn Coal Mine Breaker, Shamokin, PA
And not far is the famous burning town, Centralia, where underground mine fire made the entire town unfit to live in. I think it is very clear, we don't need less environmental protections we need more! Let's not go back to the 'good old days'.
Smoldering hillside near Centralia, PA
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Pictures vs words
I have been spending a lot of time taking photographs and fussing with them using Photoshop. Hence, not much time for writing or reading. It is a really interesting change for me. I am starting to think more visually, more colorfully. Sometimes it drives me crazy to be constantly looking for something to photograph, even when I don't have my camera, but my dreams are more colorful. I was doing a little bit of yoga and stretching tonight and I could even relate the feeling in my body to color and form. Here is one of my latest creations.
Taken from north shore of Long Island near sunset.
Monday, August 16, 2004
Dream: The Gifted Table
I was at a work function, a dinner with other scientists. We were discussing something about a protein with which I work, something about if there were three arginines at the C-terminus. I couldn't remember if there were (and I felt I should know this information). Another scientist (someone visiting whom I didn't know) knew the answer and did some complicated calculation in his head to solve the problem. I was embarassed. I also felt like I was 'hooked' or physically connected to one of the scientists, like our belts had got tangled. We sat down for dinner but when I looked up from my plate everyone had left to another table. Some waiters came and told me I had to move because they were moving the table. I picked up my plate and carried it to a table with people I had attended high school with. One was Kevin Wetzel. He looked at me and said, "Welcome back to the gifted table." He looked different than I remembered. The girl/woman across from me was drawing my picture and/or taking notes on what I was doing. I didn't recognize her. I felt embarassed and relieved to be back at this table rather than the one with all the scientists.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Morning going
I just spent two hours reading blogs, following links, entangled in this web of humanity and words. Here's a partial roadmap.
Started at Nomen est Numen where she writes an achingly honest question:
and followed the link to its source at Language Hat. Wonderful blog full of challenges and insights, quite a bit over my head most of the time, which I like when I am in the right mood. Usually when I find a new blog I like, I read the very first entry from the archives. I like to see how the blog has evolved of the years (2 in this case). First entry quite as enjoyable as the last. This one seems to be good to the first drop.
Started at Nomen est Numen where she writes an achingly honest question:
What sort of accomplishment is it to run a gauntlet of one's own making? I've managed only to close my eyes against the feast of the world and gnaw myself to the bone. It's hardly a mark of intelligence.Then I followed a link from the comments to Mole. There I read a post containing this intriguing statement:
If I can't have irregular verbs, I'd rather grunt and point.
and followed the link to its source at Language Hat. Wonderful blog full of challenges and insights, quite a bit over my head most of the time, which I like when I am in the right mood. Usually when I find a new blog I like, I read the very first entry from the archives. I like to see how the blog has evolved of the years (2 in this case). First entry quite as enjoyable as the last. This one seems to be good to the first drop.
Friday, August 13, 2004
Another quizzie poo!
Believe it or not that is the way my Physical Chemistry teacher would announce our quizzes and tests! Anyway, on a lighter note (I think) here are the results of the stressful, arduous, what-flower-are-you? quiz:
| I'm a Pansy. The bloom of thought. Thoughts are my haven. I prefer solitude and quiet places so I can ponder uninterrupted. What bloom are you? by Polly_Snodgrass |
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Searching for truth
From Hardcore Zen: Punk Rock, Monster Movies & the Truth About Reality
But if you really thoroughly question everything, if you pursue your questions long enough and honestly enough, there will come a time when truth will wallop you upside the head and you will know.
Not knowing is what brought me to the spiritual path. As a child in church, I tried very hard to believe, like a good girl should (or as I thought she should). I tried and tried and I never felt the knowing, the security, that I had read about others feeling. I was unsure, alone and scared. So then I turned to science. I thought if I could learn everything in the books, if I could become a real scientist, I would know things. But as all students of science learn, what you really find in science are more questions. And what you know, you don't really know because you have to be ready to change your hypothesis to fit any new data that may come along. You can't afford to be sure about anything. We talk to each other using terms like suggest and implicate not know and not certainty. We learn to couch our facts in may and might, to sprinkle words of caution between the statements of fact. Or maybe it is just me. Maybe I am not ready for knowing. The idea of knowing reminds me of my childhood fantasy of a man on a white horse saving me. At first, it was my father, his strong arm comforting me during scary movies and roller coaster ride. Later I hoped for a prince to whisk me off. But those ideas were fantasy. In reality, my father didn't save me, he got drunk and terrorized us. I learned to hope for a savior but at the same time, save myself, always wishing I could relax, let go and be caught in someone's arms, and at the same time, aware that there were no arms to catch me. I was on my own. I guess that's not too bad but it never seemed enough. Not secure enough, not safe enough. With me alone, there was no absolute, no independent measure. Am I kidding myself, deceiving myself? How could I know? It was this nagging question that prodded me on this path and it is still pushing me. And I am still walking, seeking, searching, and crawling. I hope Warner is right. I hope someday I will know, just simply know. Right now, I can't imagine anything better than that.
But if you really thoroughly question everything, if you pursue your questions long enough and honestly enough, there will come a time when truth will wallop you upside the head and you will know.
Not knowing is what brought me to the spiritual path. As a child in church, I tried very hard to believe, like a good girl should (or as I thought she should). I tried and tried and I never felt the knowing, the security, that I had read about others feeling. I was unsure, alone and scared. So then I turned to science. I thought if I could learn everything in the books, if I could become a real scientist, I would know things. But as all students of science learn, what you really find in science are more questions. And what you know, you don't really know because you have to be ready to change your hypothesis to fit any new data that may come along. You can't afford to be sure about anything. We talk to each other using terms like suggest and implicate not know and not certainty. We learn to couch our facts in may and might, to sprinkle words of caution between the statements of fact. Or maybe it is just me. Maybe I am not ready for knowing. The idea of knowing reminds me of my childhood fantasy of a man on a white horse saving me. At first, it was my father, his strong arm comforting me during scary movies and roller coaster ride. Later I hoped for a prince to whisk me off. But those ideas were fantasy. In reality, my father didn't save me, he got drunk and terrorized us. I learned to hope for a savior but at the same time, save myself, always wishing I could relax, let go and be caught in someone's arms, and at the same time, aware that there were no arms to catch me. I was on my own. I guess that's not too bad but it never seemed enough. Not secure enough, not safe enough. With me alone, there was no absolute, no independent measure. Am I kidding myself, deceiving myself? How could I know? It was this nagging question that prodded me on this path and it is still pushing me. And I am still walking, seeking, searching, and crawling. I hope Warner is right. I hope someday I will know, just simply know. Right now, I can't imagine anything better than that.
Minor White
I was in the library tonight perusing recent acquisitions and came across The Zen of Creativity : Cultivating Your Artistic Life by John Daido Loori. I read a passage where the author describes a photography course he took taught by Minor White. The course had many 'non-photography' aspects to it such as early morning dancing and meditation. I was intrigued so I looked for a book of White's work. His black and white images are beautiful and moving. He has a very zen approach to photography.
No matter how slow the film, Spirit always stands still long enough for the photographer It has chosen. -Minor White
Let the subject generate its own photographs. Become a camera. -Minor White
Barn and Clouds, 1955
The Masters of Photography website has more photographs.
No matter how slow the film, Spirit always stands still long enough for the photographer It has chosen. -Minor White
Let the subject generate its own photographs. Become a camera. -Minor White
Barn and Clouds, 1955
The Masters of Photography website has more photographs.
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