Friday, April 22, 2011

F & F, Redux*

*AKA in which we revive the "Flashback Friday: Because I'm Lazy And I Like Alliteration" device. Although this has little to do with laziness and all to do with love. (Like how I slipped that one in there?)

From April 2, 2010
"Of Faith And Friendliness"

Here in Halfglassistan, we welcome all.

Love whomever you want to love. Believe in whatever you'd like to believe.

We do. Love and believe, that is. We love to acknowledge it. We don't debate it. That would kinda-sorta go against the whole"love-and-believe-who-and-what-you-want" thing we've got going here. Don't you think?

In fact, we don't talk much about what we believe. It's not that we don't care. It's just that it's ours. Just like your beliefs are yours. And if we go throwing them around and putting them up for discussion, that kinda-sorta negates the whole "no-debate" thing. Don't you think?

And I'm not looking to change that today. But, for all of the arbitrary and capricious days of observance I've declared here in Halfglassistan, today is one that transcends all of my varied and overlapping worlds.

Today is Good Friday. And, as I've acknowledged before, there are times when the best construction of words to express what is in my heart already exists.

This is one of those times:
I believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, the maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in Being with the Father.
Through him all things were made.
For us and for our salvation, he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man.
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered, died, and was buried.
On the third day he rose again in fulfillment of the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son. With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets.
I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church. I acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.

That's just me.

Love whomever you want to love. Believe in whatever you'd like to believe.

Here in Halfglassistan, we welcome all.


Sunday, April 17, 2011

Validation. Free With Egg Rolls. (aka Step Five)

Inside today's fortune cookies, in order of opening:

All progress occurs because 
people dare to be different.

If you always do what you've 
always done, you'll always get 
what you've always gotten.

What's that?

No. No, I am not in the habit of making life decisions* based on the contents of my fortune cookies. But to get a little unexpected wink from the universe and a life-lesson reinforcement — and wrapped in cookies, to boot? That's just, well, what passes for awesome these days in Halfglassistan.

*(keep tuning in)

Hmm? What's that, again? 
How long am I gonna keep up this "Step #"-thing?

Friday, April 15, 2011

Cat Con's Show Tune Applicability Axiom (aka Step 4.5 and/or "So Change Your Dream")

"There is no life situation to which a show tune (or tunes) does not apply. Find one, two, 10 or 20 and sing them. Loudly. Repeatedly." — Cat Con's Show Tune Applicability Axiom

"What do you mean, amend that to add 'Sing well'? Are you implying that I don't sing well? (Insert withering eye-roll here) Really?" — Cat Con, when approached by a quickly retreating editorial board.

What we're singing most lately is I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables.

Applicable? Check.

Belt-it-out-loud-able? Check.

Tear-inducing? Abso-freakin'-lutely.

Able to get through it four or more times during traffic-jammed commute without tears? Finally.

Able to do the above without giving a thought as to what anyone around us thinks? Puh-lease. Give us a hard one.

Able to do all of the above and appreciate both its apparent applicability and simultaneous lack of same? Check.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted.

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame.

And still I dreamed he'd come for me
That we would live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather —

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed ...
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."

So Cat Con and I do what we always do. When we're challenged. When we're confused. When we're sad. When we're happy. When we're wondering. And especially when we're figuring it all out.

Like now.

We sing.

©1980 CLAUD-MICHEL SCHOENBURG (MUSIC); ALAIN BOUBLIL (LYRICS); HERBERT KRETZMER (ENGLISH TRANSLATION FROM FRENCH) Any errors are wholly mine and, by no means, any responsibilty of Cat Con's.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Step Three

"Twenty years from now you will be 
more disappointed by 
the things you didn't do 
than the ones you did do. 
So throw off the bowlines. 
Catch the trade winds in your sails. 
Explore. Dream. Discover." 
— mark twain

("and never forget you may not have 20 years to wait" — cat con)

Friday, April 8, 2011

Friday, April 1, 2011

Stick With Me

"Do you need a new mission?" she asked me.

"What? No," I answered. "I don't think I can focus right now."

"But that's what your obsessive mind does: Focuses."

"I know." You think I don't know this, I wondered? I said, "And now it's only focusing on this."


She had a point.

So I told her she had a point.

I told her my immediate goal was to fix up my home. Make my home my home. I thought of the sharp pointed tips of staples, nails and tacks that would allow me to adorn my walls with pictures to be hung. Drapes to be draped. Pillows to be puffed. Sewn with my own two hands. With pins. And needles.

Pins and needles. Up my spine. (You say down? Good for you. Mine run up. Into my scalp, then make my hair feel like its growing. If it's a really good idea, my tummy clenches. Kinda like I'm gonna hurl. In a good way.)

But she had more than a point. She had the spinning wheel needle with the single drop of Sleeping (or in this case, Crying) Beauty's blood and I was a warrior princess dressed in college-rule-lined sheets of fresh paper. She had a point the equivalent of a bright shiny No. 2 pencil.

But I didn't realize that until later. Just like I didn't realize that I didn't need a new mission.

Well, hell.

I thought my story was about fighting cancer.

Turns out it was about living life.

Who knew?

And the above conversation was two months ago, during which I've been having a hell of a time with my mission — the first of which was to get this post (which I wrote the same day) up.

Turns out living life right now is a hell of a lot like treading water. I've gone under, swallowed chlorine (lots), lost a contact lens (or two) and even had my ass kicked by one hell of an undertow when I jumped headfirst into a wave.

So pardon me while I've taken my time figuring out that's all I've got right now — time.

Or is that I don't have nearly enough?

That's the beauty of being me, procrastiperfectionator extraordinaire. It may take time, but I always, somehow, eventually, often painfully, but ultimately joyfully, get the right answer.
Related Posts with Thumbnails