Contemplating the Sacred Ordinary

"timeless contemplation of the ordinary"

I read that line this morning. A beautiful phrase that speaks so much. Originally a critique of Vermeer's work, I want to claim is as my approach to life.

I was a history major in college. My interest sprang, not from a desire to understand the big picture, but rather a desire to know about the realities of life for day to day people at a given time from the past. I came to understand my interest as more "social" history. I wanted to understand how real people felt and lived through those great moments that perhaps they never really knew about. 

I read . . . a lot. I want so much to share the insights and gifts I find in my reading, but I am hampered by not knowing how best to share. The ability to put into words the feelings that develop eludes me at times.

This morning I read a story from Morning Sun on a White Piano, and I was nearly overcome with emotion. The writer's words speaking so eloquently of his young son's deep need for all to remain safe, secure, and predictable. "No wolf. No wolf," the young boy cried when his father attempted to introduce an element of danger and suspense into a story. The boy didn't want his "bunny story" infiltrated by evil, and who can blame him. None of us wants our world to include a ravenous wolf. And yet they all do in one form or another.

And so I choose again to see the ordinary as sacred. To find pleasure in small things. A cup of tea. Clean laundry to be folded. The sound of rain on the roof. As Flannery O'Connor wrote --

I am afraid of pain and I suppose that is what we have to have to get grace. Give me the courage to stand the pain to get the grace, Oh Lord. Help me with this life that seems so treacherous, so disappointing.

Read This Week . . .

"memory and hope are the deepest of currents" -- Morning Sun on a White Piano by Robin R. Meyers

“It's still National Library Week. You should be especially nice to a librarian today, or tomorrow. Sometime this week, anyway. Probably the librarians would like tea. Or chocolates. Or a reliable source of funding.” -- Neil Gaiman

"As a prerequisite to empathy, imagination makes kindness possible by allowing us to inhabit skins we weren't born in." -- Morning Sun on a White Piano by Robin R. Meyers

". . . but what I am afraid of, dear God, is that my self shadow will grow so large that it blocks the whole moon, and that I will judge myself by the shadow that is nothing." -- A Prayer Journal by Flannery O'Connor

"Words have always attached themselves to me. They get inside the machinery of my head." -- Paris Was the Place by Susan Conley

"You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better." --Anne Lamott

"I dread, Oh Lord, losing my faith. My mind is not strong. It is prey to all sort of intellectual quackery. I do not want it to be fear which keeps me in the church. I don't want to be a coward staying with You because I fear hell . . . It is a matter of the gift of grace." A Prayer Journal by Flannery O'Connor

"Walking is hot I try to become more attached to these streets." -- Paris Was the Place by Susan Conley

"For every story you hear that's tragic, there's another that's equally tragic or more so. I think you come to look at it as part of life." -- Kelsey Grammar

"I am in the habit of looking not so much to the nature of the gift as to the spirit in which it is offered." -- Robert Louis Stevenson

". . . the only thing to do when your rights are being violated is to 'rise and say this shall cease'." -- Paris Was the Place by Susan Conley

"Give me the grace to adore you . . . Give me the grace, dear God, to see the bareness and the misery of the places where You are not adored but desecrated." -- A Prayer Journal by Flannery O'Connor

"Anger and love. Twins maybe." -- Paris Was the Place by Susan Conley

rest

i had a flashback nearly 3 weeks ago.

i was with my husband when it happened, but i didn't tell him. i didn't tell anyone.

i didn't journal about it.

i didn't think about it.

i didn't acknowledge it in any meaningful way.

i held it in for nearly a week, letting it eat at me and drain my energy away.

and then i wrote about it.

then easter came, and i got triggered again.

i kept treading water. telling myself i was okay, all the while knowing i wasn't.

on tuesday, my therapist and i delved into it.

i was a wreck before i got there. 

we dove straight into it, and i was so anxious i couldn't remember the process. a process i've done dozens of times.

i processed. i relived it. i talked about it in detail. i cried. i hurt. i talked without pausing to be worried about what i was saying.

i came home and laid on the sofa all afternoon and evening. i felt miserable and hurt and damaged and sorry for myself.

and then i went to bed.

Rest.

I slept through the night. 

I woke up feeling better. Lighter. More lucid.

I didn't hate myself. I hated what had been done to me. I hate that more time was stolen from me. I hate that he's not being punished for his crimes.

But I don't hate me.

I made choices I wanted to make. I did things I wanted to do. I made a list and got some of it done, and felt good about it.

I did things that just a day or two ago seemed impossible. I felt alive again.

Rest comes from lots of places. Sleep, yes, but sharing and taking care of myself are restful too. And necessary. 

Today I'm resting in who I am, and putting aside what was done to me.

linking up with Tuesday at Ten

(A Not So) Wordless Wednesday

linking up with Wordless Wednesday

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . April 14, 2015

Outside my window . . . it's in the mid-60s and cloudy. We had rain most of the day yesterday and it looks as if we'll get more today. April showers . . . (yes, this is the line from last week's post, but we're in the exact same place today)

I am thinking . . . about plans for therapy today. Feeling anxious.

I am thankful . . . for a good walk at the lake with dh last week, and a lovely ride on my bike with dh rollerblading on Sunday.

In the kitchen . . . last night was clean out the fridge night. I'm still not sure about tonight. Probably chicken of some sort and whatever veggies I have on hand.

I am creating . . . a shift in my secret crochet project. Details to follow . . . I hope!

I am going . . . to take care of me today.

I am wondering . . . about this quote I read this morning --

"I wondered how I should feel 

instead of having feelings."

I am reading . . . I've put The Haj by Leon Uris on hold for a bit. But yesterday I posted about all the other books I'm reading.

I am looking forward to . . . tea with a friend on Thursday.

I am hearing . . . birds chirping and cars heading off to work.

Around the house . . . I'm still struggling. It could be that I'm being a bit hard on myself, as I have been known to do that at times :)

I am praying . . . for things to go well today. For answers to some big questions about the future (work related), and for peace as I walk through this time.

One of my favorite things . . . is Amazon. I know there are a lot of issues with a big supplier like them, but on the other hand I LOVE being able to sit down at my computer and find difficult items with just a few keystrokes.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . therapy today, a lake walk tomorrow, tea on Thursday, and the dentist on Friday. I'm not sure what the weekend has in store.

Here's a picture for thought I am sharing . . .

the first Squash Souffle of the season
(made with smoked gouda with mediterranean herbs)

linking up with The Simple Woman

Books I'm Reading

I am overwhelmed by books I want to be reading right now! I'm juggling 5 titles at one time, which I never do, but that's how my mind is functioning right now. So be it.

A friend recommended this and I can't get enough of it! I just love the lyrical prose, and the ideas of simplicity and sacrament are near and dear to my heart.

I've always been a fan of Flannery O'Connor, but only recently ran across this little book. Just started it this morning, but I'm looking forward to it immensely.

I'm not sure where I found this title, and it's not going where I expected, but it's quite good. An interesting tale of adventure, reconnection, and compassion.

Vacation planning!

Dh is reading this one for his internship and I'm reading along. Part marriage therapy, part professional interest. Mixed feelings on this one.

So what's on your reading list right now?

Relief

a feeling of cheerfulness or optimism that follows the removal of anxiety, pain, or distress: I breathed a 
sigh of relief

It's a good news/bad news dilemma. Easter is past, and I feel relief. 

Easter is a time of celebration and joy, but each year I'm hampered by the call to feel a certain way. An enforced happiness because I am a Christian. Springtime brings a new set of triggers for me. A rape that took place in the spring, many years ago. Reminders come. It is the nature of trauma for it to rear its head. I've written about it before, and each year it's a bit easier.

So it's a relief for me to have Easter behind me. I remind myself there is no biblical imperative to acknowledge Easter in a different or more extravagant way than any other Sunday. I focus on the love of God -- to send His son as a gift for me. 

And I'm reminded of one of my favorite homilies. It comes from the movie Chocolat, an unexpected source of pleasure and learning for me. 

Père Henri: I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of Our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about His divinity. I'd rather talk about His humanity. I mean, you know, how He lived His life, here on Earth. His kindness, His tolerance... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create... and who we include.

linking up with Five Minute Friday