i don't think it's the end, but i know we can't keep going

first of all, don't read this until you've opened noah and the whale's BLUE SKIES in a separate window.
now that you've clicked the link and started the song, read on.


cheers.














as you have probably discovered, i did NOT write a haiku a day during my 2week hiatus in west virginia. i have three more that i will post at the end of this post, but that is all i have for you. well, those three and this one that i will write right now, johnny on the spot.
well actually, be warned-- it isn't a haiku. it's more free verse.


tomorrow
things will change tomorrow
steady rise and fall, rise and fall
rapid breaths, deep breaths
like gasping for air when there is none
shallow breaths, ragged breaths
like choking for a scream when afraid


tomorrow is today and today is yesterday
all the days, they run together
fluid, broken
perfect in memory, they play through my mind
one by one they filter by
all the days and their events
their faces
their names


i see them and i wave
but they don't see me
gone, they are
..but yet to come
once reality
..but yet a figment of my imagination
i yearn for yesterday
i yearn for tomorrow
i yearn and i yearn today.




the three haikus:


scrabble ate my soul
when i played my mother, failed,
then cried a river
(just for the record, i really didn't cry. it just sounded nice in the poem.)




donuts in the snow
like swirling merry-go-rounds
laughter fills the air






tomorrow i'm driving to dc in the snow, and catching a plane. that plane will carry me to south africa. 
god, thank you for giving me the passion to travel. 
for giving me the capacity to care about people i love and even people i don't know. thank you for sights i've never seen, smells i've never smelled and foods i've never tasted. for culture. art. life. vigor. joy. 
i love it all, and i love you.
i know you'll be with me tomorrow when i drive away, and i know you'll be here with my mom and brothers i leave behind. work in a big way in the remaining months of chad and rich's senior year, god. prepare them for college. may they grow deeper in their friendships and relationship with you and their love for those around them. especially my mom. continue to guide them and lead them... i can't wait to see them go out and find their own. 
god, i lay this whole trip at your feet. i give it to you. i don't want to control any aspect of it, lord. because if i do, i'll mess up your purpose. so all i know to do is walk into this opportunity you've given me. i'm walking behind you, because you've prepared the way and your plan is perfect. may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in your sight o lord, my rock and my redeemer. i don't always have a lot to say to other people, especially ones i don't know. but lord, whatever i do say i just want to speak it in love. thanks for making everything glorious.

clouds gather above
dense, full of snow and fury
on the road again

oh goodness

no haikus4u since 14 december.
i am slacking.
i am a slacker.
slacker |ˈslakər|noun informala person who avoids work or effort.• a person who evades military service.• a young person (esp. in the 1990s) of a subculture characterized by apathy and aimlessness.

it's all Christmas Break's fault.

me? apathetic?
no responsibility
it makes me that way


emma uebele called me out on my blog's lack of haikus and kindly wrote some lovely lines to help fill the void:

rain on a tin roof 
pounds right into the pages
of this fireside soul


still to come-- haikus about feminism, scrabble, donuts, hipster snowmen, ice cream, irons, and much much more.

CUATRO (and 5)

this is what i think of when i say the word "cuatro": click here to see THE POWER OF 4.
it isn't spelled the same but it's the sound that matters.



today my car died
dead as a door-nail she is
old marley's ghost-- BOO


i'm currently listening to the songs of my teenage years on pandora. lots of all-american rejects, blink182, and yellowcard. they think they're so badass. ...sugar we're going down? wake me up when september ends? yehhh boi. it's just one of those nights, the type of night that calls for such music.
(this instance is probably exacerbated by the fact that i'm living (temporarily) under my mother's roof again and NOT on my own. although really i never lived on my own and probably won't for a long time. until.. idk, WHEN I GET A JOB.)
anyhow, poema de CINCO es aqui:


green day, lincoln park
so much angst and so much bark
oops that rhyme was bad

dos y tres

yesterday i drove home a day early to beat what my brother calls "the last storm of 2010." i don't think it will be the last one. as long as you love me so/ LET IT SNOW.

i drive home with speed

like a horse out of a gate

with blinders, i go

speaking of rich, i asked him to write one. the result:

grilled cheese is da bomb

i love it as much as mom

ROFLcopter out!!!!!!!!

hi coo 1.

(hī'kū) 
n., pl., haiku, also -kus.

1. A Japanese lyric verse form having three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, traditionally invoking an aspect of nature or the seasons.
2. A poem written in this form.

[Japanese : hai, amusement (from Middle Chinese bəij, pha·j) + ku, sentence (from Middle Chinese kuəh).]

i plan to write a haiku every day for the next month. 
i don't know where the inspiration will come from. tonight, i am tired and want nothing more than to go to bed. i'm not feeling very inspired. but i've committed to this endeavor and sometimes the greatest and most creative of works come out of exhaustion, or because of pressure, or in lieu of other things.

this is not one of them. 
but, i am not looking for greatness at the moment.
i stretched myself with this little haiku and it feels good.
i found my inspiration in a woven piece of fabric from arizona. i use it to set really hot dishes of food on. ..but it's quite possible that this deviates from its intended use. the fabric is a creamy beige color, with fringe on the edges and two huge saguaro cacti in the middle. they sit against a vibrant setting sun. the sun hangs low in the sky, melting into the clouds.


the color of sky
sky, the place airplanes fly fast
the color of dreams

my blog is neither entertaining, light, or saucy. and it's not intended to be.

this water runs to a river.
the river, it runs to an ocean.
and the ocean, it blankets the earth like a carpet the fiercest shade of blue.
the water runs down, closer and closer to the center of the earth.
where the water runs deepest, so does its color.
the fiercest shade of blue.


i turn away from the river, and i turn for home.
i try to navigate my way back, without the river as my guide.
for it is gone.
i see where it used to run.
how the strength of rushing water, after many years of rushing, left its mark on the earth.
i see it dug out a path among the boulders and the trees.
it ran strong and blue and constant,
but now i see no water.






think about the best thing that could possibly ever happen to you.
the best thing.
don't be shy, don't be humble.
go all out.
the best thing.

well imagining that thing happening-- whoa! --except not being happy about it.
being, unintentionally maybe, ungrateful. and looking forward instead to the next best thing.
in other words, imagining completely missing that moment you'd waited for. missing the significance of the best moment your dreams could ever conjure.

that is my worst fear.

i'm reminded time and time again the importance of captivating the moment. being present. living intentionally. and i find peace. and it's beautiful.


peace i leave with you, MY peace i give you. i do not give to you as the world gives. do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. --john 14.27


peace is right here waiting the whole time, because it's what jesus left to me and you. my family, my friends, my greatest musings or dreams or memories-- they cannot sustain me. i am strong and resolved, only through living in christ.

alan paton + noah and the whale? glory.

i am beginning to read Cry, the Beloved Country.
and i've only gotten through the foreward, notes, and introduction so far. but i already know it's going to be one of those books i can't put down. one of those books that alters my life and changes the way i talk, the way i think, the way i see--- if only a little.


"it is a story of the beauty and the terror of human life, and it cannot be written again because it cannot be felt again."
-alan paton, writer of Cry, the Beloved Country

south africa, hurr eye cum.

untitled, and appropriately so

the smallest, lamest moments make me laugh. i don't know if that's simply one of my idiosyncrasies, or if maybe every human is like that. although there are those don't laugh at all, for fear of truly living or exposing raw character. 


doesn't laughing at a moment sound nonsensical? wouldn't it make more sense to laugh at a joke?
but moments-- they are so undefined. nonlinear. unpredictable. and perhaps this volatility is what makes them so great.
moments can be good or bad or genuinely hilarious or planned or spontaneous or illuminating or completely earth-shattering.
all this simply screams beauty.


mountains in the rearview mirror, laced with fog
a sunglasses swap
chap stick or food? roommate choses the former
one moment, hugs over cumbersome water glasses
the next, hugs that should never break off... but do
and broken elevator buttons
downtown buildings and unconventional hobbies
cats on grocery store walls
and squiggly clowns
poker and pecans
slow loris, wine, eyeballs


these moments inundate my mind, my stream of consciousness.
and in no particular order and no particular time,
they make me laugh.


















from the cowardice that dares not face new truth,
from the laziness that is contented with half-truth,
from the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth,
Lord, deliver us we pray. amen. 
--prayer from kenya

woody woodpecker and alice in wonderland are ballers.

i sprawl out on the floor and drink hot tea, listening to old throwbacks on pandora.
songs from my childhood.
songs i remember fondly.
they streamed steadily, endlessly, always. streamed from the speakers in the suburban my mom drove.
streamed from the radio in the family room.
well, "the den,"rather.
we never called it a family room.
(actually, the first time i heard the term "family room" it confused me. i wondered why the family unit would denominate a room after itself in the family's own home.)

i remember the den.
it was all wooden: wooden floors, wooden bookshelves, wooden panels of wormwood.
the wormwood panels had lots of little holes everywhere...holes about the size of a wormhole you'd find in a red shiny apple.
i convinced myself as a little girl that a woodpecker must've gotten loose in our house,
flown wildly on a rampage,
ruined our walls.

and that made me mad.
so i didn't like woodpeckers much.
not only because of the walls, but also because they would wake me up early in the morning.
a lot.
i remember opening my window and yelling at the noisy birds pecking vehemently on the nearby tree.
i remember watching them fly off when i yelled; they were bewildered.
ah, the sweet nectar of victory! euphoria.

but then............. i couldn't go back to sleep.
thus,
i would go downstairs
to the den
and watch cartoons.

..although i must confess i avoided woody woodpecker. usually.

it's funny the things i remember, if i try. i remember i felt
safe,
secure,
snug as a bug in a rug.


i was snug alright. and i liked it that way.






until one day-- i don't exactly know when --things changed.
yes, things changed.
suddenly, the snugness overwhelmed me.
it constrained me.
i couldn't breathe.

i began to outgrow my surroundings.
the process? painful.
i outgrew the wormwood.
i outgrew my bed, and the many pillows with it.
i outgrew my window, the serendipitous urge to open it and scare the birds away.
i outgrew my mother's music.
i even outgrew my mother.

i outgrew it all, and FAST. it happened just like that, like when alice drank the DRINK ME bottle.

i outgrew it.
all of it.

i outgrew my home.
so i left.
i came to a place where i knew no one.
it was hard.

at first, i failed.

failure.

in failure, i got to know our god: he at his strongest, me at my weakest. ..from a place of complete and utter dependence.
i had a thirst and a need for him. for the first time, he was real.
i was humbled, i grew strong.
i am strong.
i don't know how i missed him all that time; he was there all along.
i guess i just finally heard him; not just listened. there's a difference between hearing and listening.
i felt him there, i think.
i sought him, leveled with him and wrestled with hard thoughts and shortcomings and failures and the need to control and hide and live insatiably, restlessly.
he embraced me and lifted me up: prized, full of joy and love. forgiven.

victory.

i am the reverse alice. she grew small first, then returned to her normal size at the end of it all.
i grew big, too big for my own good.
but i've taken a sip of DRINK ME potion, and i'm back to normal size.
things are not the same as they were; this is good. life is different. different in a good way.
and now, looking back, i remember.
i remember my home, and i smile.

i remember.




philippians 33- everything i've gained is worthless compared to the value of knowing christ. simply knowing him, living him.
i'm trading my life.

i am no savior.

i've decided to revive my blog.
this is the first entry.
there were earlier ones, but i took them off.
i want a fresh beginning.

so this is me, in the here and now.
read at your own risk. 

i don't know what this blog will look like... the dynamics will probably change from time to time.

but i like to swish it up every now and then.

nothing stays the same forever, right?

as i write this i'm sitting under the stars on my campus.

well, i can't see them.

i can really only see jupiter.

but i know they're there.

well, here's the final product:

i am no savior
i wear no belt of righteousness
no sash of prestige across my bosom
i care for no one
i am a danger to the world

in constant flux
combustible and raw
confused and bewildered
i aim to save myself
from myself

from my pride, from my ignorance
from knowing nothing, from knowing all.
being seen as a fool.
like an artist's painting i am an illusion
visible only by sight
tangible to no one

especially not the blind

i have no texture
no super powers
no depth of field or range of motion
i think in black and white.
there are rights, and there are wrongs
morals are simply something to be abided by.
i refuse to compromise
but compromise all the same

i compromise my identity
i mold to the world around me
i adapt
go through seasons, fall summer winter spring
i am day
i am night
i am hungry and i am full
but i am no savior

i used to think i could save myself.
that was my dream
i dreamt it sleeping,
i dreamt it waking,
i dreamt it all the time

i was an illusion.
nothing beyond ink on a piece of paper
flammable
rippable
cutable
waddable
...destroyable

no dimension.

i was my own savior

i cared for no one
the sun and the moon and the stars were my companions,
and constantly so.
they revolved around me
although i did not see them
probably because they were so far away
and i am only human.
they were unseeable by the naked eye,
aided only by telescopes and technology.
i, by my own limitations, did not see



but i caught a glimpse of the sun in the day.
just today it was.
and i see the moon and the stars now at night
they hang suspended in the sky
choked by light pollution from the District and its dwellers

they amaze me still.

and i wonder what they look like in a pure land
one without distraction

i wonder what they look like to the one who made them
he made them perfect
they revolve around him
and reflect his glory
his identity
his purpose
his creation

he is the savior
the savior of all
the savior of me.

i am no savior.

i am no savior!
i rejoice, i am no savior!
he saved me he saves me he will forevermore save me.
save me from myself.
from my black and white thoughts, dreams, aspirations


you give your law as a gift
it liberates
it restores
it protects
it enables
it revolutionizes

it is your love.


...but only when i surrender.

i thought i could save myself.
i thought my studies were about what i'd become
and i became afraid.
because i wasn't becoming what i wanted fast enough
or well enough.
i was in control of my own direction
traveling nowhere worth my while
it was somewhere, but it wasn't the best you had for me
before, i was a hotwheels car, the ones i collected as a little kid.
i ran them on those plastic narrow pieced-together tracks
they did lots of cool loops and went really fast
but they ran out of momentum.

i want to be propelled by someone greater than me.
by a greater engineer than me
by a greater architect than me

god, i desire for so much more!
and i know you won't stand there watching me fail
i know that the second the words
"i surrender"
cross my heart and my mind and my tongue,
you'll take over
you'll take control
and i'll be whole once again.

i'm not going to sit passively by, though
i am going to be an active participator in my life.
what do you want me to do?
who do you want me to see? to speak to? to love on?
i might try to grab the reins,
just warning you.
do you know what you're getting yourself into?
do you know how easily distracted i am?
how wishy-washy, unpredictable, emotional, narrowly focused, and potentially unstable i am?
how much of an unreliable, imperfect, uncaring, cold-hearted, self-focused pain in the ass i am? and will be?

of course you do.
sorry, i forgot.
i forgot you made me.
i forgot you made me in your image.
i forgot your image is real. and perfect. and holy. and complete.
and that mine isn't.
and that that's how it's supposed to be.

you are my savior.
i forgot you created me to glorify you.
so let me do that.
allow me to live another day full of your grace and your love.
allow me to be the moon
simply reflecting your light
..because i'll have no light of my own.
you are the sun.
and i am the moon.

i am no savior.

and i am happy.

the sky in santa fe, new mexico. (if you look really hard, you can see jupiter above the antlers. ...trust me.)