The Thoughts of Men

"These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,

If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,

If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,

If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.

This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,

This the common air that bathes the globe."

-Walt Whitman from Song of Myself

Fighting

"Fighting for the poor, you forget your own pain." -Sr. Silvia

"The Song of the Shirt"

With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread —
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."

"Work! work! work!
While the cock is crowing aloof!
And work — work — work,
Till the stars shine through the roof!
It's Oh! to be a slave
Along with the barbarous Turk,
Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work!

"Work — work — work,
Till the brain begins to swim;
Work — work — work,
Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!

"Oh, Men, with Sisters dear!
Oh, men, with Mothers and Wives!
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
Stitch — stitch — stitch,
In poverty, hunger and dirt, 30
Sewing at once, with a double thread,
A Shroud as well as a Shirt.

"But why do I talk of Death?
That Phantom of grisly bone,
I hardly fear its terrible shape,
It seems so like my own —
It seems so like my own,
Because of the fasts I keep;
Oh, God! that bread should be so dear
And flesh and blood so cheap!

"Work — work — work!
My labour never flags;
And what are its wages? A bed of straw,
A crust of bread — and rags.
That shattered roof — this naked floor —
A table — a broken chair —
And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!

"Work — work — work!
From weary chime to chime,
Work — work — work,
As prisoners work for crime!
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed,
As well as the weary hand.

"Work — work — work,
In the dull December light,
And work — work — work,
When the weather is warm and bright —
While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling
As if to show me their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.

"Oh! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet —
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet;
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal!

"Oh! but for one short hour!
A respite however brief!
No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,
But only time for Grief!
A little weeping would ease my heart,
But in their briny bed
My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread!"

With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread —

Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, —
Would that its tone could reach the Rich! —
She sang this "Song of the Shirt!"

By: Thomas Hood (1799-1845)

Simple Gifts

Hymns, glorious incantations to God...
'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight
'Till by turning, turning we come round right.

-Elder Joseph Brackett Jr. (Shaker, 1797-1882)

Battling Angels

Battling with Angels.
Calm + Chaos.
Pure thoughts + Stigmas.
Wakefulness + Blind rage.
Floating on Wings.
Through this Life.
Suffering + Happiness.

Eyes of glass

Distress signals
ebbing to the edge of me.
What am I asking,
A need?
Or simply looking for
answers
that don't yet exist.

Disconnected.
I see you among recognized strangers.
You talking, expressing, smiling, laughing.
Me with hopeful eyes on you,
behind glass.

Americans

Fat Americans are
everywhere.
Sweating, consuming,
wearing poorly fitted clothing,
sitting on a throne.
How are we seen?
Are you surprised?
(From glimpses of Wuxi, China, 6/2010)

Unease

Voices, radio, intrusion.
A boat rumbles.
A Jeep perturbed
by sand.
Stuck.

Men.
Produce fear,
for only being a man.
Me, a single woman.
Anxiety shifts to
unease.

Wake-up call

Sun rising over a hazy city
with palms sprouting
from disheveled sidewalks
of filth, brokenness, and hope.
Dirt, trash, deterioration
outlined in soft, worn pastels.
A couple grinds flour,
school uniforms glide past me,
all with shy smiles
and opened eyes.
Burma.

(From journal, Rangoon, August 21, 2008)

Expectations

the person you expect.
expectations.
so i was not perfect
enough
to fit your every need,
you with more expectations,
more criticisms of not my own inward struggle.
aren't unmet expectations saying,
not good enough?
what do you expect?
with too many expectations.

i am, me.
good enough and more,
to exceed all your
expectations.
but indeed perfection
is not my truth.
expect imperfection
and truth.
i am,
not an expectation.

Once

i thought once
was enough,
but once only comes one time.
twice or thrice.
bridging the gap in time.
time that it takes
to hold back that anger,
that fleeting memory,
that once there was love.
twice or thrice.
wouldn't it be nice?

Confidence

Confidence.
Decisions--
made surely, firmly.
Strength
of character, convictions.
Respect--
for me, for him.
Cherished.
Encouraged.
Blooming and
growing
into me.

Marvin

Cuddly,
purrrring,
snort.
Fuzzy
tuffs,
of adventure.
Encounter--
Marvin.

to be

to be the couple--
that he puts on her coat,
she reaches for his hand--
to steady her.
they laugh in deep tones,
to be.

would i, if i were?

sitting in a chair,
why am i more
privileged
than him?

because i have $,
because i don't carry
my belongings on my back,
because strangers don't
cringe
at my presence?

am i privileged?
or do i live in my own hell,
because i can't help him.
because i could be him.
because i feel guilty,
ashamed
that he has to struggle
for everything.

would i live
if i were in his hell,
or would i?

i want to be

i want to be...

the couple still clasping
hands
when they are gray and stooped.

the mother who calls
her kids
pumpkin.

the explorer trekking through
the outbacks of
Montana and Mongolia.

the girl that
pounds the pavement
training for a marathon.

the lady with the cat
who all day sits in the window
awaiting her return.

i want to be...
oh, heck
a pastor's wife!

Grasping

Awareness
is frightening.
Bigger than
my grasping
conscience.
Churning, faint shadows
of faces--
Amo las sombras,
aunque ellas que
no me conozco.
Don't fade.

unknown

pictures of my reflection,
my shadow.
always lurking
beside me.
obscure,
unknown,
waiting, my soul,
waiting.
to meet
my Spirit.

Garrison sunset

i hear malted milk
in the waves,
locusts frenzy,
gulls like angry whistles
on the breeze,
lackluster caresses,
careening.
the sun
cutting through the ripples,
softly piercing
the horizon
of malted milk.

sign language

sign language is...

beautiful,
mysterious,
full of expression,
amazing and...
silent.

afternoon innocence

Mountainside soccer game.
Unexpected laughter.
Fleeting innocence.
Heho, Burma

out of reach

meteors

regardless
of my perspective,
they were
falling.
showering.
behind
grey, billowing
haziness.
caressing
the earth,
with their
brilliance.

embraces

gentle stillness.
engulfed
in tranquility.
abrazos
encircling
my being.

cuatro cuartos

cuatro cuartos.
waiting for
life,
vida
viviendo.
yo y él-
estar aspirando,
life.
comienzando en
cuatro cuartos.

i-n-s-o-m-n-i-a

insomnia
in-som-nia
insom-nia
inso-mni-a
insom-nia
in-som-ni-a
in-s-o-m-ni-a

air conditioner
bumbling,
heavy night
sweat.
vibrating locusts
fading
into the sunset.
buzz,
buzzzz,
buzzzing
streetlights.
rumbling
cars.

purple-cast
eeriness,
outlined in
yellow haze.

stillness.

tossing,
turn.
the same
pillow.
same smells,
same sounds,
same outlines
of my
pillow.

chirping
perpetrates,
along with
crisp, white
radiance.

it's 5am.
insomnia.

insomnia
in-som-nia
insom-nia
inso-mni-a
insom-nia
in-som-ni-a
in-s-o-m-ni-a

Descend

Heavy, basement
bar.
Seasoned with
cigarette-stained
walls.
Of wood.
Reverberating
music,
late into the night.
Dark,
glamorous,
clumsiness.

The Moaners
Auntie Mae's

2

i thought i lost

a friend,
but i gained 2.
8 years ago,
seems like 8 days.
kindred spirits,
gentle creations
of God's earth,
molded into
compassion and joy.
i found a friend
i thought i'd lost.
and there are 2.

a box

sometimes i think that pictures are memories- pent up, stored up- in a box. waiting to be remembered.

A shadow story...

the metallic,
impenetrable
waters of the present.
my Soul,
a reflection
of the deep Unknown.
Raw,
exposed,
alive.
Lake Michigan
Chicago, IL

I am

Torn.
Between giving and withholding.
Frustrated unknowing.
Grasping for,
craving for-
balance.
Desire.
Anger from
questions without
answers,
actions without assurance.
Joy,
in simplicity.
Warm tendernesses.
Unrestrained-
smiles.
And laughter.
Free, uninhibited
happiness.
Whole.
Because my own humanity
creates boundaries,
for undiscovered
love.
I am torn.

there are

there are these couples
with blank,
starving
eyes.
empty.

Beatitude

i saw it outside myself.
on tippy toes,
it was there.
cupped in delicateness
that washed down my arms,
from the sky
i was reaching towards.

palms burning,
deep ravines.
massive brown paper bags,
leftovers--
from gluttony.

his hands-
empty.
his eyes shone-
behind hallowed
features,
of God.
Bryant Park,
Manhattan,
midnight.

fear,
didn't exist.
on that street,
where the Sun was shining.

at midnight.

Beatitude-
i was there.
with palms burning.

In that place

In that place
where dreams overtook me,
and fought within me,
under the covers, under my pillow
this song haunts me,
rich, powerful, distraught patience.
I'm reminded there is a difference
between "toughness" and
"strength."
I am both.
Together.
One.

Regina Spektor, "Samson"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p62rfWxs6a8
(Samson means "of the Sun" & was a Herculean figure, who is granted tremendous strength through the Spirit of the Lord to combat his enemies and perform heroic feats unachievable by ordinary men.)

Forever

Forever is like a moment that stretches unseeingly into the hazy future. How does Forever decide that Now isn't enough, can Now be part of Forever? Does my Forever end with the Forevers in another's life, or will my Forever continue long into the future-- forever? Forever seems so permanent, stable, terrifyingly distant-- exhilarating. Is God the only source of Forever? My path stretches forever before me, God is Forever with me, I can't change parts of me to be Forever, it's what already exists in me that is Forever...


From Wave Watcher by Craig Johnson (my 9th grade soccer coach & encourager of life's experiences): "Forever" is an important word in my family. We use it only when we mean it, and it can mean so many things. I've learned a lot about the word this year by reading a few of my father's love letters to my mother. Dad always signs his notes with a stroke that reads "Forever." In turn, Mom signs her notes "Sempre"-- that's Portuguese for "forever." Recently, I've learned how so many things are forever.

Summer 夏の俳句

lightning bugs ignite
a calm, restless radiance
in the thick, night air

deep earth echoing
venerable cicada
resonates desire

Sunday

“some day”

sounds like –

a Sunday sundae,

my dreams,

a long time,

today…

my mind

my mind
changes like blinking eyes,
subconsciously;
one moment never begins
because a beginning has an end.

Now

construct a dream

existing of reality.

now.

i want to cherish it
in my heart--
undiscovered.
until Certainty
answers.

Answers

Today this quote was called to mind by a conversation I had...

"Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.
Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language.
Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them.
It is a question of experiencing everything.
At present you need to live the question.
Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer,
some distant day."
-Rainer Maria Rilke

For years this quote has very likely been
the answer to many of my questions.
Not so much answers,
but sentiments allowing me
to continue on God's path.
I like the thought
of distant days.
I like the thought
of living
in the present.
I don't like the thought
of living in the
past...
except as incentive to
enjoy today,
now,
forever,
and tomorrow,
today.

Restlessness

some form of restlessness
is overwhelming me.
not so much restlessness,
but excitement.
yes, that's it.
excitement.
for life.
with joy
for blessings,
poured out to me,
with each
falling
raindrop.

Cycling the summer away

so this summer i decided i'd bike to work every day. this might not seem like such a challenge in the bike-filled asian countries, or the hot-paved streets of new york. but in little manhattan, ks, the city isn't planned to accommodate, get this, a bike. 3 miles across town. 730am. several pot holes later, i cross the mammoth 4-laner + turn lanes. passing by the local wal-mart, sonic, quiznos, big bumbling trucks, gas $3.79, waiting at the light. i'm in the turn lane. sweet love, the straight-away is all mine. on my bike. in manhattan.

Christmas traditions

(A Kansas sunset in December)

Many of you are blessed with innumerable family traditions during this holiday period. The Conyer's have a Swedish tea ring breakfast, The Elliot's- sushi at midnight w/ root beer floats, others gather around the tree, Christmas Eve services, hot chocolate, enjoying each other's company. For many reasons, I have a hard time enjoying Christmas time. I would rather not have to be dealing with old problems, family silences, overlooked words and stifling feelings. Today there are no presents or a happily-lit tree. Perhaps it's even harder to see other's families who at least appear to have a sense of togetherness.

However because I've been able to experience so many wonderful places and friends, I've always been included in celebrating with others and I have a clearer view of what joy, thanksgiving, and love should look like during this season. I suppose over the years I've also amassed many traditions that I hope to have with my own family and friends.

So my hope, joy, and thankfulness comes from so many people who make this time special for me. Myron's family- for the salmon Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas Eve service w/ Althea at the Lutheran church, pizza and the Hairspray musical at the Reynold's, coffee and a bagel w/ my mum and making pies w/ her, helping at the Christmas community dinner, Meagan- wine and The Office, helping Amy and Emma wrap presents, visiting w/ Jess at her store... I have so many friends for which to be grateful, God does provide His love in ways we don't even realize.

So my own traditions... what will they be? Well for a start: Cinnamon rolls, Mexican hot chocolate, reading my favourite "Peace Begins with You" book, Midnight Service, making cookies to decorate the tree, serving at the community dinner, and so many others... but especially seeking out other friends who may not know that Christmas can be a very special time of sharing God's love and life, even if you have to walk through the valley of shadow and death to see it.

Facebook

So it seems like eons since I've posted on my account... it has been. I thought I'd give that Facebook thing a go, but it wasn't for me!!! I couldn't say anything meaningful on it like I can here. And I think it just sucks you into distractions... I have ENOUGH of that in life, right?

God has been working miracles in my life since June 2006 when I last logged on here. I also have been running from God at times as well. Running and not even realizing it, 'cuz I didn't wanna face what He had to say. So I tried the good old diversion tactics, not good. Recently, I found myself standing smack dab in front of Him, but the good thing was... I didn't wanna run this time. I just waited for His embrace, which He gave undeservedly.

So what does all this mean? I don't exactly know. But I can say I feel so much better waking up in the morning having Him to talk to. My Bible is FULL of lovely highlights, notes, and wisdom that somehow I temporarily forgot, or only listened to when I wanted, and now I feel like diving back in and knowing more. To me that is the nature of life and spirituality... to go through peaks and valleys, but to always end up on top-- a renewed spirit. And the top is a bit higher each time, like you gain just a bit more understanding of life and your innerself.

A snapshot of my memories with Mom

Ok, well there's no way that I can recount all the different adventures that my mother and I had....so I'll just let you enjoy a part of our days during her trip here. She mastered the "doomo" or thanks in Japanese. So much in fact that she kindly told a little girl at the park "doomo" instead of "konnichiwa". But regardless of that....she moved onto the more formal thank you, "arigatou". However, this one never came out so well...it was always "aribato". This caused many chuckles by me and probably some confusion to the receiver of the thanks. We then tried to move on the very formal thank you very much, "arigatou gozaimasu". This one never went down. But I love my mum and all the great memories we had together...she was definitely a up for doing anything and everything. I think what she enjoyed most, though, was just being my mom (and I treasured up being her daughter ^_^)!!

Mamà さん arrives...

I spent Thursday running down to pick up my mum from Tokyo... it began at 5:00am with a one-hour drive to Aomori City. Then a 4-hour train ride to Tokyo Station. As recommended by Steph, I diverted my time there cruising around the grounds of the Imperial Palace. As the gates and bridges were well-guarded and closed to the public, there was no means for me to scale the rock walls and cross the moat...but it was amusing never-the-less.

God blessed me with a wonderful mother and she arrived safe and sound with luggage in tow. We also had many more miracles in the travel back home...besides lugging 2 massive suitcases (not what I would recommend in Japan), we made a 10-minute transfer in Tokyo Station to the shinkansen. I would have loved to get the look on our faces when we spied the 2-stories of steps we had to carry her luggage up...but the happy ride back up north made it all worth it. She's one brave traveler...and so cute when she says "どうも" or "thanks" with her little practiced bow ^_^! To be continued....

Sports day...HOORAY!

For the second year running, I attended Minami Elementary School's Sports Day (南小学校の運動会). Besides watching all the kids run their hearts out, the day was filled with lots of cheering, a couple traditional dances, some random relays, and (I think the best part) the special bento lunch. Granted I didn't take as many pictures as I would have wished...maybe you can enjoy a few moments. Having laryngitis over the past few days diminished my abilities to participate much (not that I would be expected to under normal conditions), BUT I did get out there and do a relay with my 4th grade class teacher and one of the dances with the kids where we hold origami flowers. And a newly discovered favorite...lychee (or lichi, a type of fruit from a Chinese tree) throat lozenges...I wish I could tell the old man who gave them to me how much I love them! I will have to stock up for my trip home!

(This guy had the right idea on his back even though he wasn't out there running.)

(Two of my favorite 4th graders...so sweet!)