school

When I was little, I was excited for school to begin. I painstakingly choose my new outfit and backpack, revelling in the plastic smell of newness. I woke extra early, excited and impatient to begin what I viewed as an adventure.

I loved school when I was young.

Now, I feel strangely nauseated, depressed, and anxious. I almost didn't wake up this morning-- and actually debated on missing my first day of classes, something that never entered my mind until this morning. The daily ritual of reading saints lives, taking a shower, and putting on a nice dress, impotent against my foul mood, filled me with a sense of despair and emptiness. Even the pleasurable simplicity of ordinary things are now rendered powerless against the gorgon academic experience.

I cried as buttered my toast.
That made the toast soggy.
next time I"ll just have cold cereal.

I hate school.
I must be old.

sleepless nights

I miss my love and I can't wait to talk to him soon. My present insomnia is due to the fact that I am not a patient person, and somehow feel the longer I stay awake, the sooner I"ll hear his voice!
I'll let you know if it works out.
:)

Reflections on the feast of Blessed Bronislava.

“My lover speaks;/ he says to me/ ‘ Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,/ And come!” Song of Songs 2:10

Borrowing a book from the library is quite the ordeal. I require that I have good, healthy variety of novels. Usually, I try to include a piece of nonfiction, but I have noticed that I rarely ever finish non-fiction pieces and rarely ever read them in a linear fashion. I read it as I please, starting in the middle or even the end, skipping chapters--- essentially bushwhacking my way through the book so painstakingly put together by the anxious author.

Yesterday, I checked out a book of Saki’s short stories, a book by Iris Murdoch ( seeing as she’s supposed to be one of the greatest writers of the 20^th century, I thought I might try a hand), a book that looked like a thriller but proved to be insanely immature and adolescent, and The Big Book Of Woemn Saints by Sarah GAllick

The last book is perhaps the most important of my selection. There is a woman saint for each day of the week, for the entire year. I have found, these digestable, simple paragraphs about women of faith seem to increase my own faith and make me desirous of the love they sought and gained. Through the saints devotion and lives, I can clearly see God as a lover—constantly seeking us out and drawing us towards Him--- everything in our lives here on earth is God wooing us! How beautiful life is!

Today, is the feast of Blessed Bronislava of Poland. She protected her nuns when her convent was under attack from the tartars saying “ do not fear anything—the cross will save us!” Then she proceeded to bang the cross against the wall and a secret passage opened, allowing the nuns to escape.

Any skeptic would remark that Blessed Bronislava simply banged on the knob to open a secret passage that had long been there. The skeptic might even go so far as to say that Blessed Bronislava knew the passage was there and was simply making a “show of faith”.

It is easy to believe the “ realistic” options in our lives. It is hard to believe, especially today as we think that only what is intellectually perceived--- that is the tangible reality, is the only reality. All other possibilities, in our eyes, are simply tricks to deceive us and shroud the truth. Faith is too hard for our pride to grasp because it insists that the human mind cannot perceive certain things and indeed, demonstrates fully that intellect falls terribly short in the face of God.

And how is this terrible?! Romance cannot always be intellectual! How boring! Relationships are not built soley on the mind. If they were, I can’t imagine how the earth would be propogated. Sex, is hardly an act of the mind. More so a loving, trusting act of the will requiring each partner, not to be intellectually superior, but vunerable—exposing all their good parts and all their bad parts---accepting each other and bettering each other as God made them. In this respect, God also demonstrates that HUMILITY and MEEKNESS are also, in a word, desirable traits and ( if I may be so bold) sexy.

anxiety dreams

The closer I get to school, the more exhausted and anxious I become. I dream of bizzare life threatening stituations where everything life threatening ( even cancer cells) becomes a godzilla sized monster. Last night I dreamed about vampires but for some reason took great pleasure in killing them--- one of the ways, most effective in my dream, was to spray the said vampire with liquid dawn soap. I did not know I had any particularly affinity to the soap, but apparently, I must think very highly of liquid dawn soap.

perhaps I should write a twilight spoof in which all vampires accidently die doing dishes for the first time. Or at least their hands shrivel off......

oh the possiblities.

a funny song!

A beautiful story about the transforming power of generosity and compassion.

rainy days

Today, the rain is falling in abundance. I am wearing my blue spotted rainboots, which I secretly wish were waders in my head, though technically, they only reach to my calf and hence are only rainboots....How I do wish they were waders though--mostly because wader is a comfortablely exciting word that promises huge massibe puddle jumping expiditions. Rainboot is drab in comparison--- a miserable swamp, to the wide wide ocean.

Rain boot or wader, I enjoy the thrill of stamping in puddles without the discomfort of wet socks--- although, I am not wearing socks with my rain boots ( oh ugly) , but really it the principle that counts--- If I had been wearing socks, they would not possibly get wet unless I was faced with a flood-- and even then, I'm sure I'd find a way to enjoy clomping around in swirling water.
I am grateful for the rain today! I am not grateful to the slow computer, which types at a hesitant speed and then only posts half of what I have written.

I will always perfer rainy days to technology-- and really, anything to do with waders.....