Love Letter

The Jews read what we call the Old Testament and view it as a love letter from God. Upon reading these verses I'm starting to see why:

“And I will betroth you to me forever;
yes, betroth you to me in righteousness and justice,
in hesed, and in tender compassion;
Yes, betroth you to me in faithfulness;
And you shall know Yahweh.”
(Hosea 2:19-20; Heb vss. 21-22)

“For it is hesed that pleases me, and not sacrifice;
And the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.”
Hosea 6:6

It seems so human. It seems like what we experience, or want to experience, every day. We want to be known and understood by someone, we want unconditional loyalty and trust, we want intimacy with another human being. God wants that with us as a community and it gives him the face of so many people I've known in the past and makes him so more closer to real in my eyes. What other men have demonstrated with feeling in the past is what I see God demonstrating and it moves me to want to respond.

11/28/11

Sunset

I have seen some incredible sunsets in my short 20 years, but of everything I've ever seen, this one topped them all. Sitting at the window as the plane began its decent to Portland, my friend tapped me on the shoulder and motioned me to look out the window. Outside in the distance was all clouds, and it looked as though the sun was a fiery liquid resting on the ground in the midst of them as clear defined pink and orange rays spread out through the clouds toward us and over the ground. It was something you would see in a national geographic. We landed in the darkness of night, the sun we had just seen had gone to sleep behind us. It was literally the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen and probably ever will see. It's no good trying to describe but at least I'll mention it so I'll never forget. There are indescribably beautiful things in this world.

11/27/11

Wasted

It's funny how the most mundane moments and songs can enact such a huge change in your life. This song came on the radio, and despite the fact that I've heard it many times before and feel no affinity toward it, its lyrics brought with it the feeling of finality toward my past and a desire for hope toward the future.



I don't want to give my past control over my future, and though I can't help the way I am now, I hate the thought of waking up one day to the realization that I let all my years go by wasted. I want to live life to the fullest and if that means I have to open back up doors that I nailed closed, I will start to entertain the thought of that possibility again.

11/26/11

Green :/

I never wear the color green.


11/25/11

A loved leader

“Your men love you. If I knew nothing else about you, that would be enough.”


I was watching "A Knights Tale" on TV and was astounded by the amount of marvelous quotes in that movie. This one especially stood out to me: it's what the prince says to William and it made me look at myself a a leader. It makes me think not only of the people I've led in the past but the people I am leading currently and how they act toward me, what they say to me, and how they feel toward me in general. On one side I'm relieved because I've seen so much trust, loyalty, and love demonstrated toward me from those people, but on the other hand it makes me worry. I look back on the way I've handled certain situations both in leadership and simply in life in general and I fear that I am not a good enough person to be a noble leader who is loved by their followers. I frequently demonstrate a stronger sense of justice than mercy, and often I've had to ask people what they think the right decision is because the one that I have decided is right to make is the one that other people I respect highly have told me is not the one that they would make. I fear I'm going to make those justice driven decisions as a leader and drive people away or lose their respect. And not just make justice driven decisions, but make decisions that are not holy. That's prideful thinking in a way as well: I want those that I lead to respect me and my decisions. But really, that's logical too. I'm leading them. Of course I want to lead them well. It all boils down to the fact that I want to be that leader: I want to be a leader whose followers look at my decisions and faults and love me because they know that my character is courageous, honorable, selfless, good, and focused completely on serving and protecting those I'm leading. That my character is noble. I don't think I am fully that person, but I do want to strive toward being them.

11/24/11

Belonging

Today I felt like me. The real me. My dad waking me up in the morning and giving me a hug while I'm still incoherent, the dogs jumping on me while I'm still in bed and laying on top of me, the white snow covering and shining and glittering across everything, wearing a flannel and sweater and winter jacket and hiking boots and scarf and hat just to drive somewhere, being able to see my breath, feeling my hands freezing on the steering wheel, singing loudly in my car, enjoying my singing voice again, Ihopping and eating the "quick and easy" and staying for half the day and drinking seven cups of coffee and leaving a ginormous tip, being in familiar homes and familiar places, driving myself around again, bickering and laughing with family, drinking tea, eating cutie oranges and moose burgers, listening and singing to country music and feeling that way, plugging in my car, being bitterly cold, catching up and existing with old friends, and laughing embarrassingly loud. It felt like such a ripping and tearing to leave Oregon, but the second my old mountain man Alaskan friend came and gave me a bear hug in the Anchorage airport I knew I was home. A cold, dark, late night eating taco bell and talking and talking with an unconditional friend that has been around for more years than I can count on one hand: that was something worth returning to. It all is. It makes me feel like a piece to a puzzle, like a hand sliding into a glove, or a voice in a choir: I fit here. I'm apart of a larger and and synonymous whole in this place, and every atom of my being is ringing in time with the history and familiarity that shares my same soul and tells me I belong.

11/23/11

Childlike Simplicity

A persons favorite movie speaks volumes about their character. I've dug into my new and old favorite movies to find that common theme and I am both surprised and not surprised in the least to discover that the movies like Stranger Than Fiction, Arthur, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and The Village all contain a common simplicity that I seem to cling to. The characters learn to live and take hold of their lives, to have adventures and value the simple joys, and to express and live for the simple yet deep truths in life.

Harold fights back against complacency and learns to take hold of life. He learns to treasure the simple joys of baking, playing guitar, watching old movies, and being lazy with someone.

Arthur demonstrates a childlike innocence and simple expression of love. He demonstrates an illogical sense of adventure.

Ferris teaches us to not think so hard. To have adventures and play like a child.

Lucius shows a simple mindset and moral fortitude behind maturity and silence.

They're about the simplicity of love and the childlike nature of adventure. That's what I value and that's what I love, but that's not what I am. I am the vivacious woman behind each of those men. The baker, the writer, the student, the laugher. And I have to give props to those women because they stuck with their men that are so easy to admire and so difficult to walk alongside.

11/19/11

The Sequal

I WILL write this blog. Just not at 3:12am.

11/18/11

Little Secret

I knew exactly what I wanted to write about tonight, but then when I put my laundry in at 1am, instead of studying more for my micro test or writing what I wanted to I did something different... Because I didn't have time to write what I wanted to, I'll tell you a secret about what I did instead:

When everyone else goes to bed and it's just me, I look up youtube videos on how to do ballet, and I teach myself to dance in my big empty hardwood floored dining room. Don't tell...

11/17/11

Loving as myself

Whenever I write a story, I can never write characters that aren't me. They may act differently and do things differently than me, but their hearts are the same and I love them. I love them because I know the "why's" behind all their actions. I'm writing a modern day Samson/Delilah story and the more I write Delilah, and the more wrong she does, the more I love her. Because she's me.

My approach to people is much different than it was a couple years ago. I don't love people anymore. I am easily annoyed and I am quick to cast people aside that I think are rude, shallow, or different from myself. I look at them and I give them no excuse for being who they are. They get no leeway from me for being people that reject truth, honesty, and common courtesy.

I see a huge divide that I want to mend. There is a connecting point between my characters and I that makes me empathize with everything they do, but I have stopped making the effort to search out the connecting point between me and real people. I was telling someone about Samson and Delilah today and they jokingly, or maybe not so jokingly, called Delilah some sort of long and filthy name ending in whore. And I was sincerely insulted. Even though they may have been right, how dare they talk so carelessly about a woman who had real reasons behind what she did?

I love my characters as myself, and maybe more, because I see myself in them. I need to be loving others as myself, and probably more, because they have pieces of myself in them, and there are "why's" behind what they do as well.

11/16/11

Good People Exist

There are still good people in this world. Many people have demonstrated this to me in the recent past, but today it was much more apparent. A selfless person stepped forward to focus their life's goals on me and plan around me, and I was shocked. Good people still exist? How much faith in others have I lost?

11/15/11

Take 9

Take 9:

Trying to post today is completely useless.
This blog is a complete waste of time.
I'm done writing about myself
and I'm done being "honest"
and being "creative."
I'm so angry.
And I want to rewind years and years,
And do it all differently.
I cannot wait to be done with this stupid project
and my stupid self.

And yes, I am fine.



11/14/11

"Shake It Out" Manchester Orchestra

Locker Room Kid

You know that kid in junior high and high school that sat alone in the locker room to eat lunch? Maybe you saw him, maybe you heard stories about him, maybe you were him. Well, my new permanent place of residence, my default location to exist when all else fails, is my office. And I realized the other day as I hid out there and ate my dinner alone because I didn't know anyone in the cafeteria, and I didn't know anyone outside the cafeteria, that I was in my makeshift locker room. I was hiding out, the loser, because I had no one to be with. I spend a lot of Friday and sometimes Saturday nights in there listening to music, writing, sleeping, and doing homework. A friend of mine caught me in there alone this last Friday night and said to me, "You know Toni I've been thinking. Thinking about the deeper things in life. Like, how can a man live without water? Those types of things you know? Like, how can a child live without it's parents? And how does an attractive young woman end up alone in the student government offices on a Friday night?" I laughed heartily, and it was sincere laughter, but he voiced what I didn't want to address. It's not that I don't have friends. I do. But they aren't always around, and it's just so easy. I've gotten so comfortable just hiding, and I don't feel so alone when it's just me sitting by myself in a room rather than a room full of people.

11/13/11

Sticky note: gardening!

"Life's a garden--dig it!"

11/12/11

No idea what this is from...but I didn't say it first...I don't think

Arthur

11/11/11

Sticky note: tribal

"And I thrilled to the chant and the heavy beat
Of the rawhide drum, and the moccasined feet-
-Because that night, in the campfire's shine
Your flannel shoulder was touching mine."


I found it on a friends facebook. Don't know who the other is, but it's not me.

11/10/11

Sticky note: expression

"Dancing is a perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire."
~George Bernard Shaw

11/9/11

Sticky note: opal necklace

A friends response to my opal necklace from my Ti Bella:


"Your necklace reminds me of tragedy at sea."

11/8/11

Sticky note: hidden mickey

“Like” that tune? According to our friends at Disney D23,
the song played on the radio of your Kilimanjaro Safari vehicle
is “Hapa Duniani” performed by African Dawn –
it’s actually The Lord's Prayer in Swahili.

Fun fact posted on facebook by the Walt Disney World facebook page.

11/7/11

Birdsong:

My roommates and I were talking in Southern accidents all night, so as I wrote this, it just happened that the voice I was writing with became southern. A character evolved, so keep her and her accent in mind as you continue.

Birdsong:

I’ve never believed in God
Because people that believe in God never believe in me.
They tell me that because I am a woman
~~~~I am meant to get married
~~~~I am meant to be a supporter
~~~~I am meant to follow a man’s leadership
~~~~I am meant to yearn for my husband
~~~~I am meant to have children.

I’ve never believed in God
Because people that believe in God
~~~~always discredit what I say once I tell them:
I tell them what I am meant to be,
~~~~and that maybe other women can be that way too.
Maybe it’s just a coincidence and not their God
~~~~that make them think those things about me
Maybe they just disagree with everything
~~~~and that’s why they always discredit me.

I’ve never believed in God
Because if there was a God he made me to be the way I am.
He would tell me that
~~~~I am meant to be a leader
~~~~I am meant to be independent
~~~~I am meant to yearn for those in need
~~~~I am meant to produce truth.

I’ve never believed in God
Because people that believe in God say he lives through them, and what lives through them is not nice, it lies about me, and it does not speak the truth.

I started believing in God
Because I decided to be what I am
Which I guess was not a woman
Because I never got married
~~~~ And I supported those who were weak
~~~~~~~~ And leaned on those who were strong
~~~~ I led those who needed guidance
~~~~~~~~And followed those who knew better than me
~~~~ I yearned for the fellowship of another
~~~~~~~~ And found it in many a soul
~~~~I loved upon the parentless
~~~~~~~~And took part in raising them

I believe in God
Because a blue heron alighted on a bridge
And she told me God made me to be what I am
And by being that, I had become a real woman
And lo and behold I looked down and

~~~~ He had turned me into a blue heron
~~~~ A blue heron in the night
~~~~ And I flew away with freedom
~~~~ Empowerment in my flight
~~~~And I lived how I was supposed to
~~~~No label to define
~~~~And he told me how to go forth
~~~~And I did what was divined
~~~~And I felt how I was supposed to
~~~~Created as I was meant
~~~~And I lived a life of purpose
~~~~With power in my breath
~~~~And I lived a life of beauty
~~~~Both inside of me and out
~~~~And I knew I was real woman
~~~~Because by birdsong I did shout.

11/6/11

Acknowledgment to Lauren Johnson, who encountered the blue heron on the bridge that has since taught us more of what it means to be a woman and to be proud of that fact.

Sticky note: crush of love

"I forgot how good the crush of love felt."

A quote my Cultural Anthropology teacher told us. I don't remember the story but I do believe he was talking about a man who was being swarmed by children and when people tried to help him out he did not want them to remove the children because of the crush of love he had so long gone without. I think I too have gone without the crush of love for a long long time.

11/5/11

Sticky note: be good

"Don't try to be anything, just try to be good."

I didn't say it, but I believe it.

11/4/11

Wacko

11/3/11

Painting: "yes i do, sometimes i paint" by eff_3lab on Flickr
Song: "Panic, Shear Bloody Panic" by Hans Zimmer from Sherlock Holmes Soundtrack
Song: "Up is Down" by Hans Zimmer from Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End

Crashing

We discussed another topic in General Psychology today and I took a ton of notes in class and stated my opinion. It was important and I don't' want to forget the stance I took. It's what I normally would write about, but I don't want to anymore, and I think it's finally important that I say why. It's because I'm crashing. And from here on out that's gonna show on this project.

Last year I crashed. Hard. I slid into an intense depression and I can still remember it being bitter cold outside as I stood against my back door, hiding under the bay window hoping no one would see me, listening past the sounds of the cars going by on the highway across the wilderness of the backyard. I remember talking to my sister on the phone and the more she spoke the farther I slid the phone away from my mouth so she wouldn't hear me crying. I shivered and sniffled and hid and felt so poor. Felt so low.

I couldn't study. I would sit and stare at my work and try to focus and I couldn't. There was a wall there. My sister has gone through the same thing and I've never felt so comforted as when she told me that I wasn't just lazy and unmotivated, but there was something wrong with me. Thank God I'm not just stupid, thank God I'm not just lazy, thank God there's something wrong with me. I sat in class and felt the anxiety and the panic attacks and fought to hold still. I felt too unhappy to function. I started to fail classes for the first time in my life and for the first time in my life I swallowed my pride and scheduled an appointment with a counselor.

We did not talk about God. She let me ramble and rant and would stop me and focus on one thing at a time. She kept going back to the reason I was there: I had told her, "I just need to get through this year." She taught me what I needed to change in my lifestyle that would help and I tried, sometimes with little success. She helped me realize that the more thoughts I had and the more jumbled and unorganized they got, the more overwhelmed I felt by what I couldn't understand or conquer.

This year I am not dealing with the same problems I was last semester: the damage and remnants from relationships are left over but the trauma's not fresh like it was. I recognize the damage that's been done to my emotional well being and ability to relate to people, but that's not my problem right now. I don't believe so at least. I feel scared and intimidated by the work I have to do with class, but I'm still hanging on.

For a reason unknown to me, I am crashing. My emotional well being, my happiness, my motivation, it's slipping away and I can't control it and I don't know how to fix it. This is what happened last year. But I see a remarkable change in myself: I am not the same person I was. My counselor told me to start a steady workout plan: I have started working out three times a week again. She told me to get a steady sleeping pattern: I've started trying to get up at the same time every day no matter what like she had told me. I see myself making changes to my lifestyle because I want to be fixed: I want to gain control. I've been prioritizing and making lists. I've been keeping a firm grip on my myself: I have not locked myself in my room, slept days away, or cried myself to sleep: I'm not panicking. There's a control and a strength that was not there before. There's a desire to persevere that did not exist before and despite the fact that I can feel myself going down, I am actively working against it.

I'm having many side affects though: I am quick to feel inadequate and quick to run from people when I get even the slightest hint that they disaprove of me in any way. I'm quick to feel boring and undesirable. I have trouble focusing and maintaing the ability to stay on task. I have trouble staying patient or being willing to work through things with people: I want to push them aside. I have trouble smiling when I'm alone. I have trouble putting in effort.

And when I think of this blog, I don't want to write anymore. I passionately love A Study In Honesty and I want to see it completed. I don't like the idea of not continuing and writing. But I sit down to do this and I don't want to. I feel the negativity oosing out of me, I read what I've written, especially my compilation with Ben Holtrop and I am shocked by how heavy and dark it is.

I remember being in this place before, and once again I am writing about emotions: something I've hated doing in the past but still feel the need to do. This time around I feel a difference in my attitude and my willingness to work against it. This time around I do not want to keep writing as opposed to spilling my heart online. So even if the posts that are to follow are simple or strange or pathetic, they'll still be there, reflecing who I am as low, dumb, boring, embarassing, inadequate, or totally emo teenage as they may be.

I didn't want to write anything tonight: it's always a surprise what comes out.

But I just thought it should be acknowledged and said: I am mysteriously crashing. And I feel like I should give a disclaimer and a warning because I don't know what this project will look like as I honestly strive to cope. I do know that this time around I'm gonna make it though, and just knowing that helps me make it.

11/2/11

War At Home

I wrote down what I wanted to write for posts for two weeks ago but haven't written them yet.

I wrote down the outline and parts of what I want to write for Ben Holtrop and my 365 collaboration.

I haven't really written anything like this in two weeks. Maybe more?

And I wrote about hoarding but it felt wrong. Writing feels wrong. I'm not connecting-I feel like I'm losing the language. But still all I want to do is write.

*

I have discovered Spotify. And today all I've been able to listen to is Josh Groban. This song ran through my head all day as I cleaned and I played it over and over again with many others. It sounds like what I'm feeling and he speaks much more elegantly than I seem to be able to anymore so I'll let him speak for me.



11/1/11

Hoarding

It's Halloween: I can't not mention it! I was excited for today: I dressed up as "power Toni" because I knew I had to get motivated to get things done--I'd been showing sings of crashing lately and I won't let it happen. I didn't trick-or-treat: I handed out candy to kids. I was dressed as a cutsie housewife and was thrilled about it. (If you've read ASIH and know me, you see the irony). I was so excited when the kids would come to the door, but a little scared to answer the door as well! There was a little spiderman at one point whose mask I had to fix because he couldn't figure out how to get the eye holes back over his eyes to see to pick his candy:) Halloween was different, but good.

Anyway.

***

In General Psychology today we watched a show called "Hoarders." It was fascinating. Here were people who could not let things go; had let their houses get so overrun with stuff that there was nowhere to walk. Nowhere to eat. No way to distinguish the things around you. One woman was vehement that she would not waste food and therefore had it everywhere, even rotting on the ground. Another man was obsessed with the idea of recycling things for a later use and therefore could not let things go. I identified with him: I have a tendency to keep things because I feel as though they might have a use later. I too do not want to waste and feel their need to keep and be wise. For them though it is destructive and obsessive. I found myself marveling at the good they wished to do and the bad that could come from it.

I watched that and felt convicted: I hoard and I have not cleaned. So today (okay, I'm cheating, it's the 1st of November but I watched "Hoarders" on the 31st!) I cleaned. I cleaned from three hours in the morning and then for two more in the evening until everything had found it's place. It took a long time to go through all the papers, throw things out that I had been holding onto, and put away all my clothes. I swept the floor and organized my shelves. Now my room feels a tad bare from all the cleared away spaces but it feels like me again. It's reaffirming to stand in my room. It charges me like a battery. The way everything is, the way it's decorated, what I've decorated with, all describe me. When it was messy I had more trouble finding myself in it, it felt out of control. Having it clean once again, I feel more myself again. I feel more concrete. My room reminds me who I am.

And I want to always be reminded who I am. I don't want to hold onto things and in doing that, even with good intentions, lose myself in the mess and the clutter. I don't want to hoard. I don't want to hoard physically, nor do I want to hoard emotionally: because I do that. I hold onto things and I can't let them go, I can't forgive them, I can't release the gravity of them from my mind. But I want to be able to look at myself and be reminded who I am, and I want to keep that image clear. Physically and mentally.

10/31/11

Part 7

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/30/11

Part 6

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/29/11

Part 5

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/28/11

Part 4

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/27/11

Part 3

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/26/11

Part 2

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/25/11

Part 1

Ben Holtrop collaboration to be uploaded.

10/24/11