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Fri, 15 Jun 2007 14:31:59 GMT

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A brief life update

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 23:43:03 GMT

I may use the space in this post as a bit of a life update since I don’t normally write on such mundane topics. But some of you out there are actually desiring basic facts, so this post is dedicated to those 3 people or so :)

The sun shines down on me today, Wednesday, finding me with a bit of a headache but a strange and welcome lightness inside (mostly attributed to Ansus Berkana’s new song that I just heard today). The words from “Whatever You Want” by Ansus Berkana, “You’re wasting time with your feet on the ground” are echoing through my thoughts. I feel inspired to waste very little time from here on out, and the last few weeks show testimony to my current conviction.

Almost two weeks ago, my sister and I boarded a plane and took off for New York. We stayed with lovely people in an apartment in Manhattan and enjoyed exploring as much of the city as we could in 2.5 days. The first night we bundled up and ventured into SoHo, Chinatown and Little Italy. We ate our first slice of crunchy, cheesy NY pizza in Little Italy, admired the dead fish on display in Chinatown, wandered through the grand opening of an art show while sipping free wine, and stumbled back to the apartment cold but excited for the next two days. On Sunday we had the most amazing mochas from the chocolate factory/store of Jacque Torres, ran through most of the Met, ate more pizza, strolled through an icy Central Park, bought long underwear and another down jacket from Macy’s (it was SOOOOOOO cold!), set my eyes on Times Square for the first time, and ate at Chevy’s in commemoration of my sister’s dog who shares the same name. Monday brought even colder temperatures (8 degrees F, but the news said it would feel like -8 with the wind chill!!!), a ferry ride to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, a visit to Ground Zero, and one more foray out to Times Square before tucking ourselves into our chilly beds and rising for an early flight to Orlando.

New York was stellar, but I must say, it was quite enjoyable to step off the plane in Orlando and feel the sunshine and the mild humidity. My sister spent the first few days with a friend while I assisted my team in the creation, birth and sustained life of Humana 2.0, a conference hosted in Orlando. Pictures will follow the text, if not in this one, then soon (I’m at work right now and the children’s nap time is drawing to a close, thus the minutes allotted to writing are numbered!). Humana exceeded all expectations! It ran seamlessly, and united many heroes in joint cause to save the universe. I’m very proud of those I served alongside and I loved seeing so many familiar faces!

I hear a little voice repetitively calling my name from the upstairs region, so I should wrap this up. More soon, and much love to all my dear friends I saw in Orlando, and also to those who read this who are called to other geographical extremities (yes, I’m talking to you John and Bran and Meg!).

Pictures!

Sat, 30 Dec 2006 16:11:09 GMT

It's been too long since I put some pictures up, so here are a few from this week.

This is me, Karielle and Luke on Christmas day. They stopped by and it was so good to see them!

On Wednesday, Emily and I drove down to Santa Monica to pass out blankets and food. On the way, we stopped for a little ocean enjoyment. I LOVE California.

Here are a few shots from Santa Monica

And here are Jenna, Emily and Cheryl in the garden at the Walt Disney Concert Hall on Thursday. We did a little sight-seeing after picking Jenna up from the airport (she's a trooper!). We stopped by the Disney concert hall, the new cathedral in LA called Our Lady of the Angels, and Chinatown.

It's time to act

Sat, 30 Dec 2006 06:39:04 GMT

“Hey white people! Hey, people! Hey, HEY!!!” The call was repeated until we had walked well past the group. I almost felt like a celebrity for a second, tapping a quick rhythm with my feet as I hurried along the sidewalk, until I remembered where I was. 5th and S. San Pedro. Downtown. Skid Row. The sun was quickly falling behind the tall buildings and a chilly wind was sweeping through the alleys. We hurried to reach the safety of the mission lest we were caught outside with the locals in the lengthening shadows.

Some friends and I spent the day at the Union Rescue Mission in Los Angeles. It is the country’s oldest mission, currently housing between 300-350 temporary “guests” each night, and another couple hundred spread throughout their various programs. They provide three meals a day, an estimated 2300 plates distributed daily. Many of the same faces return day after day, meal after meal. Children. Elderly. Sick. Proud. Clean. Insolent. Crazy. Each face has a story, with details that are incomprehensible to orderly suburban minds. Each heart beats with pain that isn’t healed with a plate of food.

Five little fingers, stretched wide, reached for my yellow folder. She ran up to me when we momentarily crossed from the mission into the alley. I touched her tiny palm and smiled at her, but that wasn’t enough. She insisted on procuring my bright visitor’s packet, so I opened it up and gave her the business card. The smile I got in return made my eyes burn with moisture. Innocence and heavenly enchantment were made immortal in that brief exchange. Her face is unforgettable.

What can be done for the wide-eyed children of our broken world? It was not their doing that put them on the street, but the folly of another. I echo Jenna’s (jennamartin.voxtropolis.com) words... these people are fighting for their lives, and they need more than our mere sympathy. It’s time to act.

death

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 23:46:49 GMT

Today my body is sick. My head is heavy, my limbs are floating through jell-o, everything aches, and my throat is swollen. Ouch.

Today my heart is crushed and angry. I have been healthy for a record three months and I had a growing suspicion that I had reached an immortal status, or at least a strong defense against the remote possibility of contracting malignant germs. I’m not that annoyed at the actual sickness raging through my achy flesh; I’m vexed because my body isn’t the blooming picture of health and a strong immune system like I thought it was. My application for Good Health Super Hero status has been denied. Perhaps death will come soon…

(is that melodramatic enough ?)

a decision

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 03:38:55 GMT

I made a decision today! One that might prove important, or full of lots of work and pain and reward.

I was asked by a friend a couple of weeks ago, "When are you going to be a writer?" He wanted me to give a date and time, like "In two weeks," or "Next year." Well, today is the day and here is the official announcement for what it's worth (it solidifies the fact in my soul -- that's what it's worth!). I am a writer. And here is an attempt at poetry on this day of decision. I welcome thoughts, criticisms, reviews, etc. from here on out :) Part of being a writer now is learning how to write and being open to all forms of help!

Potent therapy
penetrating like a drug.
Liberation for the weary soul,
winging toward the flames on the wings of a dove.
No escape, no turning.
Only sweet release
to the unsought peace.

(This poem was inspired by a morning soaking up sunshine with Tina, Dean and my kids. The warm sunshine was healing for all of us and brought much joy.)

It's windy today.

Sat, 18 Nov 2006 01:56:20 GMT

I feel a breeze blowing from somewhere within. Itâ€™s skittering tangled threads of voices along the sidewalk in my imagination... â€œGod is faithful (what does that mean?),â€ â€œItâ€™s not your fault,â€ â€œMail that old letter.â€ Completely disconnected, yet there is something or someone vying for my attention. Talk to me. I hear that voice clearly. Let me talk to you. Will you stop and listen? Maybe later... thereâ€™s too much to do...

Howâ€™s life? Life is busy. Life is constant. Whatâ€™s new? Nothing. Everything. How are things? Just fine. Everything is just fine, thanks. All these questions that we ask each other. What are we trying to get at? What do we want to know, to hear, to experience from/with each other? Connection. Connectedness. Non-solitary existence. We want witnesses to our lives, witnesses who actually care. This morning I picked up the phone and called some friends. I wanted to know what had been going on in their lives and to share some of my experiences with them. To stay connected. Question: If we disconnect from people, do we cease to live? If we disconnect from the Source of life is there any life to be had at all? That breeze feels a little stronger now... I think the wind is picking up.

What is life? Existence. The period between birth and death. The feeling I have when I burst to the surface after holding my breath under water as I count to a million. The sensation on my tongue as frozen semi-sweet chocolate divinely melts into a delectable lump. I live and my heart beats and my lungs search for air every 2.3 seconds. How can I live more? I donâ€™t think my heart is longing to beat faster or that I need to squeeze in more breaths per second or stuff myself with chocolate. And yet, there is a deliciously tingly feeling about having your pulse quicken and your blood speed up when a potentially perilous offer is put in front of you. I know of someone who said that life could be lived or given in abundance -- what a crazy statement! But I feel this to be true when I ride a roller coaster, or stand up in the back of a jeep while off-roading, or through action realize my depth of love for someone, or look into a pair of eyes that moments before were filled with pain, but my gift to them brought joy and salvation. *my heart jumped at that last image.* I think that whatever abundant life is, itâ€™s got to be found somewhere between the edge of a cliff, the rapids of a swelling river, and filling the belly of a hungry soul. Woa, my hair just lifted a little. Someone should open that window a little wider and let the wind blow; it might clean up some of those cobwebs in the corners that I canâ€™t reach.

How is it that we get so lost in ourselves? How do I get so lost in myself? My little world of pain and joy and stagnation and movement really doesnâ€™t mean much unless itâ€™s connected to the bigger ocean full of global currents and wind and teeming life. I want my ship to sail as a part of the World Naval Fleet, not just the local boat club that meets in the harbor. The open ocean freaks me out (I hope my life vest holds out!), but thereâ€™s nothing like it on land. You should come try it too; give your sea legs a chance. What are you waiting for?

â€œI donâ€™t think weâ€™re in Kansas anymore...â€

Iâ€™m ready to talk now.

Did you hear that?

I live!

Tue, 14 Nov 2006 16:33:34 GMT

This update is dedicated to Deana and NizaÃ¢â‚¬Â¦ I hope itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s everything you hoped it would be

I live. It's true. I live.

I'm not kidding! This is an important statement in my life at this moment. Let me explainÂ¦ yesterday I stared death in the face and nearly succumbed, but in the end, I rose from the dirt victorious.

Okay, so that's all a little dramatic (I like to throw some drama into my storytelling). But here's what happened: last night was a big Vox Underground Culture Pub, and there was a lot of work to do. We were all very excited and the feelings of anticipation were running high. In preparation for the big day, I decided to go horseback riding with my sister in the morning. Something about being with her, racing through the trails on powerful beasts and breathing in the scents of the morning sounded like a good way to prepare my soul for the big day. Everything went great, until the last stretch of trailÂ¦ all the danger had passed, all the sharp turns and galloping, and I decided to take off my jacket as we approached home. I had to set the reigns down to do that, and as I slipped my arms out of the sleeves, Travis, my not so trusty steed, spooked and took off galloping and bucking. I grabbed the reigns and held on long enough for him to gain some speed and then I fell off. As I bounced along the trail, I saw my life flash before my eyes (just kidding, but it sounded good). When I woke up (I never really blacked out), I spit the dirt out of my mouth, clutched my throbbing ankle, and shook clods of dirt from my hair. A neighbor caught my unruly, evil horse, a kind couple stopped in their car and drove me home, and my sister took over the care of the beastly beasts. Against my initial desires, I decided to go to urgent care later in the day to make sure the ankle wasnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t broken and that my neck and head weren't damaged too badly. As everything stands today, I'm fine! My body is bruised and very sore, but I'll be fine.

So that's my exciting update for today. Hopefully more tomorrow with Vox news and pics, which is MUCH more exciting than my little mishap. Such a good night it was!

Post-script

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 23:20:16 GMT

I realized that I didnâ€™t exactly explain why I was calling my last post, â€œSoul Enema.â€ Iâ€™ve gone twice now in the back of the jeep for middle of the night forays through the mountains and coast of California, and each time I have felt like my soul is scrubbed clean. The stars are bright, the wind sharp and cold, cutting seemingly straight to my soul. God feels close and all I have to do is toss up small breaths of prayer and conversation, and the wind is ready to carry it straight to his inclined ear.

How is your soul scrubbed?

Soul Enema

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 23:19:25 GMT

Have you ever wondered how to get that â€œjust-washed-squeaky-cleanâ€ feeling in your soul? Just take a ride in a naked jeep. Consider driving it down the freeway, exiting to take Mulholland Highway through the mountains, taking a brief and terrifying foray down a dirt trail, singing in a mountain tunnel, dipping your feet in the surf at Zuma at midnight, and then heading home via the PCH, cutting up through another canyon to then coast through the sleeping city toward home. Despite some objections to the title, Iâ€™m calling this experience a â€œsoul enema.â€

Such were the happenings several nights ago, when Jenna, Andy and I were hanging out with Jason. Jason is the proud owner of the freedom machine, a fantastic old black jeep that goes â€œtoplessâ€ and often doorless for much of the long California summer. We piled in late in the evening, none of us quite ready to re-enter the stuffy indoors of video games, internet surfing and movies, and all of us ready for an adventure.

The jeep took off flying down the 101, and I was indebted to the geese who gave their lives so I could be wrapped tightly in a down blanket. It was so freaking cold! Soon we exited the freeway and began a twisty trek along Mulholland Highway. At one point, as we rounded a turn and accelerated toward the next we spotted drums in the back of a truck parked in the turnout, so we did a quick u-turn and enjoyed some country music under the stars with our new friends from Pepperdine. Those moments were truly magical.

After two songs, we continued on our way and the soft sounds of guitar plucking and the warm romantic feelings inside generated by the music quickly faded as Jason began to enact his evil plan. He had refused to tell us where he was taking us, and we began to fear the worst. Jenna whispered, â€œHeâ€™s secretly an axe murderer and heâ€™s going to take us down a dirt road and hack us to pieces!â€ Andy was less discreet, and openly accused Jason of homicidal intentions. And sure enough, we soon found ourselves bumping down a dark, dirt road marked â€œPrivate!,â€ â€œKeep Out!,â€ and â€œNo Trespassing!â€ Our fear mounted as the initial warnings were repeated 100 yards down the jolting driveway. Andy, at this point, decided to abandon the vehicle, and Jenna and I begged Jason to turn around. Much to our surprise, he obliged our request! Andy climbed back in, Jenna and I settled back into our seats, but the wicked Jason proceeded to continue on the path backwards! He claimed that this was being â€œsmart about it,â€ because in case we ran into any trouble, he could punch the accelerator and have the benefit of being pointed in the right direction. My fear of Jason killing us quickly and easily transferred to fear of the hillbillies killing us! We started passing abandoned cars and trucks and boats, precarious structures made out of sheet metal and pieces of wood, and heaps of trash. All the while we were holding on with white knuckles, bumping madly down the pothole filled, steep dirt trail. The dust swirled around the vehicle as Jenna and I reached official freak-out status, then without warningâ€¦.!

â€¦ want to take a guess as to what happened?????