Peace In Christ

Today I write for personal need.
I have finally cleared a spot on the dining room table where I can write.  I'm using maybe a quarter of the space or a little less.  This is a long, narrow, lovely table from John's family.  It's made of wood that looks to me like walnut.  It has two wide boards for extending the length that can be taken out or inserted, but the support system is remarkable: very hefty steel frames or sliders (not sure what to call them) that nest within themselves when not fully extended.  When collapsed the table is a nearly-round oval.  But I usually keep it fully extended.  I like the over-long, over-narrow proportions.  I think the styling if from the 1950's: the legs are squared and tapered and the top has black-stain trimming the top and bottom edges of the surface.  There were six chairs that came with the table, but most of them need repair and are currently stored in our pole-barn.  I'm sitting on Mom's "sewing chair" as I write this.  I call it her sewing chair because she used it at her sewing machine.  It could just as easily be called a music chair because the back has a lyre in the design.

I have a red-lacquered rectangular tray on a massive cotton doily in the center of the table.  The tray holds one of Mom's old hurricane lamps plus some decorations I've quickly gathered today: three little decorative bowls with faux-grass holding one, three, and six glass eggs.  I'm gearing up for Lent-Easter.  The fourth corner holds a green-glass tumbler with a votive candle burning inside.  I'm not sure what-else I want to add to the tray.  I think it needs some pussy-willow branches, or something like that; something I can gather from my own yard would be even better.  Right now the only greens I could harvest would be trimmings from our ever-green bushes or from the bamboo; however, I like leaving the bamboo in place as shelter for the birds throughout winter.  The foundational bushes I'm referring to started out so very tiny and I thought they would never grow big enough to fill their space, but they are definitely over-grown by now, smashing their branches up against the window-panes!

I have CD's playing in the background on a five-CD-turnstile player, hooked into Mom and Dad's old stereo, because the speakers are so nice.  The CD currently playing is Dave Brubeck's Love Songs.

Now to why I NEED to write today.  Because I am so excruciatingly melancholy!  Whenever I use the word excruciating I think of one of my high-school English teachers.  As I recall, he was newly graduated from college, dressed very smartly (which was attractive), but his attitude was persistently smug (which was dispicable), and he didn't believe I could possibly know what excruciating meant.  I never let him win an argument with me; I always stood up for myself.  I am amazed that I did so, because that was not my norm in those days.  I was easily bullied.  I was an easy target, and I simply turned the other cheek or walked away or let myself be further taken advantage of or victimized.  But when it was an intellectual matter, I was somehow able to assert myself.  I knew what I knew, and I believed so much in The Truth, that I didn't even question whether or not I should or could "defend" my position; I simply represented what I believed to be True and stood by it, never retreating.

Looking back, I think that's why I was treated too much like an adult too soon.  My mental capacity was developed far beyond my years, and so many other aspects of my self were under-developed compared to my peers.

In any event, I certainly know what "excruciating" means, both from having read a dictionary (!), and from having experienced life.  I would think that anyone who knows anything about any teenager would learn that teenagers above all others likely know what "excruciating" means!

So why am I in such pain today?  It's still the same thing that it's been from some time now.  I'm just not SURE of my purpose for this particular chapter of my life.  I suppose one could just as easily say I'm bored!  I say that because their are certainly things I need to do and that have purpose and that can do me good and can do others good, all of which are factors in how I define one's life-purpose.  So I guess, more to the point, I'm hungreing for a new-ish Mission.

My main "vocation" in life is as a Believer in the Lord-God-Creator and Adorer and Lover of Jesus-Christ.  Within that central calling I also a wife and have embraced the challenge of becoming one with another human-being.  The Lord has also given me gifts as a musician and a teacher, so I view my work as a Piano Teacher as a true "vocation" from the Lord.  It's not just a hobby or job or even career, although I have made a career of it.  I consider it a vocation because I know that I bring my whole self to it and I love and serve the whole-person of each student, to the best of my ability.  This gives me profound satisfaction because this is one way in which I can serve our larger society: I can help the next generation become well-rounded persons.  Because of how I design my approach, I also get to work with  their parents, and I treasure the opportunity to support the parent-child relationship.  I also love that our central work is Listening!  What a great Life-Lesson for each of us!

But I also have this persistent gnawing within myself, a longing to Do Something More, and really I think it is simply Writing, but I have this huge internal road-block telling me my Voice isn't worth anything to anyone else.

Wow.  That is so sad.  If it were anyone else I would be SO very encouraging to them to share their story -- whatever it is.  I am a big believer in the value of personal Story.

So why am I so squelching to myself?

Even trying to find the right verb for that question was difficult.

What is it I am doing when I censor myself?

I am definitely afraid of something.

What is it I am afraid of?

Rejection from others?

Pff!  I don't even want any argument, let alone rejection!  I want my expression of my experience to stand for itself and to be honored for my experience.  This is, I'm sure, a very common struggle for everyone who has experienced any form of abuse/victimization as a child/youth and wasn't able to seek/find help at the time.  Our voices then, when we really needed voices and we really needed to be heard, our voices then were silenced.  They were silenced before we could utter hardly a word or a gesture or a sign of need.

My cries for help took the form of cutting myself.  But no-one ever noticed.  I had to deliberately show my scars to those I did; I was too good at hiding or being invisible.

Well, this is where I am inclined to deflect away from this thread of memory.  I didn't sit down wanting to write about this particular experience.  What am I supposed to do with these memories?  What value does having survived this experience have now?  My story could probably be of use to pre-/teens who are now struggling with thoughts of self-harm.  But who are the other adults I could trust who serve those teens?  And how could those adults utilize my experience?  I am still too wounded to work directly with youth who are in crisis.

That's why I think writing could be a way for my story to possibly be useful to others.  Because as a story it can be Used as a Tool or Example for who-ever wants to, but it is not dependent upon my presence/role as a Therapist or whatever.

"La Paloma Azul" is what is playing right now, and I LOVE it!

But is it only my experiences of harm/ pain that is of potential value to others?  I'd like to believe that my whole-life story is somehow valuable to at least a few others!

Well, I think it's time to focus on what I thought I would ponder when I first sat down to write:
I'm trying to work my way through Silf"s "Inner Compass" Chapter 5 Prayer and Reflection Suggestions.
1. Meditate on Numbers 6:24-26 -- "May Yahweh bless you and keep you.  May Yahweh let his face shine on you and be gracious to you.  May Yahweh uncover his face to you and bring you peace."
I wrote this as it appears in Silf's book.  I don't know what translation this is but "uncover" was new to me.  I am used to "life up His countenance upon you".
This is the blessing the Lord gave to Moses to give to Aaron to bless the Levites with, for a "priestly blessing."  I think I have that right; I'll look it up soon to be sure.  Meanwhile, I am glad and grateful to remember that Dad really liked this blessing and always had a version of it framed and hanging in his office.  I now have one of his parchment-like posters with this verse hanging in my studio.  Even as a child I liked the "and keep you" part.  I've always trusted Abba to keep me.  I trust the Holy Spirit to keep me and sustain me.

The idea of God's face SHINING is such a beautiful image.  Scripture tells us that Moses' face shone so brightly, after being in God's presence, that, when Moses came down from the mountain, the Israelites couldn't bear to look at him, he shone so brightly!  I always wondered about this -- what would this look like?  How could it be?  Until I had a similar, albeit less dramatic experience.

When I was a student in Madison, Wisconsin, I had a priest-mentor I met with weekly during my second year there until I decided I wanted to join the Becoming Catholic group.  There was a day when I received an extremely troubling phone-call in my apartment on the other side of town from the St. Paul's Newman Center when Fr. Chuck had an office.  The phone-call shook me to my bones.  I jumped on my bike and pedaled as fast as I could to St. Paul's.  I ran into the office and asked the receptionist if I could see Fr. Chuck.  (It wasn't my day to see him; I had no appointment.)  She placed a call up to his office on the second floor.  She told me he would be right down.  I could hear him coming down the stairs and I started up the stairs to meet him.  The stairwell was rather dark.  I remember how his face glowed.  I remarked about that and he said "oh I was praying."  He said it so matter-of-fact-ly we didn't discuss it further, but I've since thought "how beautifully strange!"

And yet, I know even my own face can seem "brighter" or "darker" at times and people aren't talking about skin-tone.  I normally would assume how we see light in someone's face has to do with their eyes, but in the case of Fr. Chuck, it was his whole face.  It was as if he was reflecting back the light and warmth of the sun.  So now when I think of the Lord shining His Face upon me, I think of His Love and Presence giving me light and warmth and even infusing me with the same!

"May Yahweh uncover his face to you..."  It's true Scriptures tell us of God veiling Himself and of the Veil in the Holy of Holies of the Temple.  When Jesus died on the cross, the Temple Veil was rent from top to bottom!  That tells us that Christ's sacrificial Love has brought us into intimacy with God-the-Father; in Jesus there is no longer a barrier or distance between us and our Creator!  Praise be Jesus!  Praise the Lord!  So when the Lord gave Moses this blessing, even then God was promising to uncover His Face -- which He did in Jesus!

The Peace I long for is Christ Himself.  I find my peace in Him and I long for the day when all creation will live in peace in Christ-Jesus.

Reference: Silf, Inner Compass, Chapter 5 "Letting God Be God"

Why Write?

Not feeling very good today.  Mostly emotional.  Mostly due to lack of purpose.  I want to write.  I want to write about my life.  I want to tell "my side of the story."  I want to tell the Sacred Story that is my life.  But why?  I don't know what the purpose for it is.  I'm fairly convinced that no-one cares about my story.  I doubt that anyone would find value in my story.  I know my Life is Worth beyond value because I know I am created by God and loved by God; God's Love created my being.  But how has the manifestation of my being, my course of choices, my responses to all that has happened to me and all that I've chosen, how do those details matter?  Do they matter?  What in them matters most?  What in them might matter to anyone beyond myself?  Have I made a positive difference in anyone else's life?  I'm sure I have positively impacted most/all of my students.  I have made choices in terms of my talents to use them in such a way that I contribute to the healthy development of children, and empowerment of their talents. 

But what about how I have overcome difficulties in my life?  Do people know anything about all that?  And of what they know, what do they interpret?  What message do they get from how I've lived my life? 

I think my story is made up of several significant threads: profound love; broken-ness; vulnerability; abuse/victimization; rebirth; blossoming; healing; forgiveness; continuing struggle w/ feeling alienated from "the world"; continuing persistence to embrace all that is Good, Beautiful, and True.
If I were to reduce all that to 2 or 3 motifs, which would I identify as most prominent?  Profoundly Vulnerable while Profoundly rooted in Love; struggle to make sense of the struggle!

The main reason I need to write is that I need to write.
Here are 3 more reasons I need to write:
I NEED to write.
I need to WRITE.
I NEED TO WRITE.
Also, I think I would like to be read.
But notice how clear I am about my own need to write, where-as I sound quite tentative regarding my desire to be read.  I ask all these questions about how others might read and interpret my story and the potential there-in, but I am so ambivalent about being read!  The NEED to write FOR ME persists.  So I let myself write this particular blog uncensored.  And I keep it "private."  The theory is that some day I might let select others read this, or I might lift portions to include in other blogs.  The basic presumption is that I use this as a way to cheer myself toward writing something I can let others read.  So the question is WHY do I want to be read?  WHO do I want to read my story?  Which reader(s) matter(s) to me?  Why do I think my story might be of value to them?  The only person I can think of and that I always think of in answer to this question is Tessa.  And why do I want her to know my story?  Because she is my closest relative of the next generation.  And she has expressed interest in wanting to know more about our family.  And I can see she has wounds too, and persists in choosing love and goodness, and I want to encourage her. 

I know that HOW I LIVE is the most important and clearest witness of whatever it is I have to testify to, but I also want to write because I want to reveal my thoughts.

One exercise in writing that would interest me is to explore how I think others might interpret my wordless examples of living.  What is my life-without-words saying?  Are there any words I can add to this that would contribute to or clarify the message?  Are the words I'd like to add in harmony with my actions? 

Jesus help me.
Jesu juva.
I really would like to glorify You, Abba.
Soli Deo gloria.

~ MLJMHC

Extravagant Experiment in Empowerment

Today I made pot-stickers and broccoli florets.  The pot-stickers were already formed and frozen.  I thought it would be simply a matter of dumpling them into boiling water and letting them boil for 8 minutes, but the whole operation from start to finish took nearly 90 minutes!  It took a little while for me to decide which pot I would use and which skillet to later brown them.  Bringing 8 cups of water to boil also takes a little while.  Then bringing the frozen dumplings back to boil took more time.  My pot was almost big enough to contain 8 cups water and 45 dumplings while boiling, but at full boil I had to keep taking the lid off and stirring.  Meanwhile I made some coffee.  I usually make 3 pots of coffee at a time and keep them in thermal carafes.  No matter how often I clean my coffee-maker, it runs fairly slowly, so one pot takes about 10 minutes.  The whole operation takes 30 minutes.  But these increments dove-tailed well with the stages of preparing the pot-stickers.  After boiling them for 8 minutes, I drained them and browned them in a skillet w/ olive oil.  To fit them into my skillet, I had to divide them into 3 batches.  As I finished each batch, I placed them back into the still-hot pot I had used to boil them, having had prepared the bottom of the pot with spinach leaves.  I had seen in a Chinese restaurant where they had put cabbage leaves on the bottom and around the sides of the pot-sticker pot; I assumed it was to keep them moist.  I didn't have any cabbage on hand, so I used what I had: spinach!

To prepare the broccoli florets, I used a bag of frozen florets I could steam in the microwave in the bag.  That took 5 minutes.  Then I transferred them to the skillet where I seasoned them with olive oil, ground ginger, black pepper, and salt.

I served all this with 2 sauce selections: soy and spicy garlic sauce with pineapple juice (both by the same company that had made the pot-stickers).

For such a simple meal with so much prep already done ahead of time, I was surprised it still took me almost an hour and a half from start to finish!  I used as few pots and utensils as possible: my mom's copper-bottom chili pot with lid, a new "green" skillet, 1 strainer, 1 wooden spoon, and 1 metal strainer-spoon.  All of these are very easy to clean, which was admittedly a large part of my planning!

Another factor in this endeavor was the fact that the stove-top igniters aren't working so I had to light the burner with a match.  This is easy to do, but the last time I had hand-lit a gas stove, it exploded on me, so I was quite wary and cautious of how I did this.

Still, how do I account for 90 minutes?  NINETY minutes!!!
2: Read dumpling instructions for stove-top cooking
6: Select pots, lids, etc., and stage everything I would need
2: Read instructions for dumplings again
2: Light burner
10: Bring 8 cups water to boil
10: Dump in dumplings and bring it all to boil again
8: Boil for designated time
1: Drain
1: Prep skillet
7: Brown 15 dumplings
1: Prep pot w/ spinach leaves
1: Transfer browned dumplings to pot
1: Prep skillet again
7: Brown second batch of 15 dumplings
1: Transfer to pot
1: Prep skillet 3rd time
7: Brown third batch of dumplings
1: Transfer to pot
5: Steam broccoli florets
1: Prep skillet
7: Season florets in skillet
2: Choose plates and dipping bowls
3: Snip soy sauce packets and pour into serving cup
3: Wipe up spills, clean skillet asap and put away

These are of course just guesstimates of how I spent my time  The only steps when I actually timed the activity was while I boiled the pot-stickers and when I steamed the florets.  But I started at 11:00 a.m. and finished at 12:30 p.m.  I was expecting John at 12:30 and he was 5 minutes late, so I had 5 minutes to lay down before he came home.

If I had prepared only 15 of the dumplings, would it have taken 1/3 the time?  I could certainly save the time needed for browning the 2 extra batches, but I would have to figure out how much water I need to boil only 15 and factor how long it takes that to boil, plus bringing it to re-boil having had dumped in the dumplings...
This way I can now simply warm-up the already-prepared dumplings in the microwave the next time I want to eat them.  However, 45 dumplings is really too many for just 2 people even if I spread them out across 3 means.  And who wants to eat that many dumplings in 1 week?

Even though this was an extravagant experiment, I'm glad I did it because it gives me more confidence using the stove.

Yes! It's Your Eternal Sacred Self

Hello dear Hoo!,
Today you woke up feeling better than usual and yet you still find it so difficult to get anything done.  Why is this?  Is it because you are keeping yourself from doing what it is you really want most to do?  Probably.  Why do you keep yourself from writing?  Why is it so hard to let yourself tell your story?  I think I know why it is.  You have too many times been told you are wrong.  Or others have spoken over you.  Or simply ignored what you had to say.  Or were baffled.  They couldn't grasp the meaning or the significance.  It obviously didn't matter to them like it does to you.

So what?  Why is it you need someone else to value what you have to say?  Why do you need someone else to validate your experience?  Don't get me wrong; you're not the only one who often feels this way.  But is it really necessary?  Do you not value yourself and your experience and your understanding of it regardless of others ability or interest to do so or not?  I don't think you really do.  I think deepest down you are profoundly rooted, grounded in knowing your measureless worth and the value of your life-story.  I think that's why you are in a sense holding yourself hostage until you act accordingly.  So what is this impediment in the middle?  What is between you and your core?

Is it something you fear?  Let's look at this together.

Here are some of the things I can imagine you might fear:
1. You don't want to re-experience the emotions from remembering former events.
2  You don't want to see yourself so starkly in light of the past, and you especially don't want to define yourself in terms of the past.
3. You don't want to be rejected.
4. You don't want others to see you as damaged.
5. You're not sure what you can do with the anger that will inevitably re-surface.
6. And maybe you're not sure what value the past has even to yourself?

What is it you want to do with remembering the past?  What is it you want to make of your story?
To "set the record straight"?
To re-process it in light of who you are now, so you can "redeem" what you've suffered?
To do something creative with it somehow?
To help others avoid similar troubles?

Knowing you the way I do, I think you might find it most helpful to simply take all of this to the Lord in prayer.  I know that sounds so simplistic.  But take your blockage to the Lord.  Take your fears to the Cross.  Ask Jesus "what's the point?"  If you really let your Lord sort these things with you, maybe you will find that there are some things you can simply let go, and there are other things that can profitably be processed.  And who knows?  Maybe there will even be some surprises.  Maybe Jesus will help you remember some good and encouraging things.

Please, do this.  Do it soon, and do it concretely.  Write to Jesus, and let Him speak to you.  Let Him "write" to you through the Spirit, if you will.  Just see what happens.  You have nothing to lose; He's safe.

And then let me know how it went.  I am truly interested!
Your Eternal Sacred Self

Proceed in Peace

My dear Self,
Why are you so anxious?  Because of circumstances?  Or because of body chemistry?  It's most likely simply your various hormones out of balance.  Be patient, my dear.  If you have gotten off-track, even if you are now back on-track, it will take a little while before you feel restored to your sense of normal; it could take 2 months!  Meanwhile, let me assure you: God loves you and is holding you.  You feel vulnerable and without rudder.  But the Lord is your ark and your rudder and when necessary your anchor!  How do I know?  Because I am your spirit who communes with the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is Always Faithful.  Praise be Jesus!  Praise the Lord!  Blessed be the Name of the Lord forever!

You've been wondering when you last felt healthfully detached or "weaned" from too-dependent attachments.  You tend to draw profound support from mentors, but now you are without mentors, and you feel strangely alone, but also free.  And it somehow reminds you of when you were age four!  What does this mean, you wonder. 

You are entering another stage of maturation.  You are molting.  You are being born.  Birth is strenuous.  But your Mother, The Spirit, is working for your safe delivery.  Be not afraid!  Yes, this could remind you of when you were very young, before you were consciously self-conscious.  But then you were actually profoundly connected with your parents, especially your mother.  Now your Mother is The Lord Himself through His Holy Spirit. 

How can the Lord's Spirit be a Mother?  Jesus Christ the Lord was certainly male in His earthly body.  But our heavenly bodies are not "given in marriage".  In Heaven we are fully born into the whole entity God-the-Creator intended.  God the "Father" is neither male nor female.  God is our Creator; the One Who Creates us.  God's Spirit is neither male nor female, but I like to refer to the Holy Spirit as Mother because the way you experience the Spirit is primarily as the One Who Births you.

So, be not afraid; She holds you well; She is birthing you.
Proceed in Peace, Love, and Joy!
Your sacred Self

A Tree Planted By Water

Jeremiah 17:5-8 (see below) refers to a dry tree and a well-watered tree,  What makes for a "dry" or "well-watered" life has nothing to do with circumstances.  It is only about who you trust.  Who I trust.  If I place my trust in anyone or anything other than the Lord, my life will dry up and I will be in a "land where no one lives."  If I place all my trust in the Lord, I will live and "bear fruit."  I don't think this has to do with whether or not my life will be materially prosperous; I believe it is all about the Life of my spirit.  Life in the Lord = Life!  L'Chaim!  Amen.

5 This is what the Lord says:

“Cursed is the one who trusts in man,
    who draws strength from mere flesh
    and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
6 That person will be like a bush in the wastelands;
    they will not see prosperity when it comes.
They will dwell in the parched places of the desert,
    in a salt land where no one lives.

7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
8 They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit.”

Reference: Silf, Inner Compass, Chapter 4 "So What Went Wrong?"