In the car on the way home from Goodbye Alexander Part One, we were talking about love.
Kellie thinks you can only be in love for real only once. Zak retold a story about a girl who was in love with love, who thought that each time you were in love was the really only true love, and that each new love invalidated each old love, no matter how real that love was to begin with; that is, each time you are in love is the only true one, until it happens again. Clif thinks that there are lots of complicating factors, that there isn't just ONE TRUE LOVE (R).
I didn't really chime in except to be generally negative, because, well...I don't have a lot of reasons in general to be positive about the subject. When we said love, we meant spousal, romantic love, not familial or friendship kinds of love.
This is probably not even something worth thinking about, because it's not relevant to my life currently, nor will it be relevant in the near future, but I just have no clue what love is all about. I think that you can conceivably love lot of different people (although maybe not at the same time), and that you can make marriage work with lots of different people.
Kellie said, "The kind of love where you make a choice or a decision, that only comes once." But I suppose if you're making the decision to love someone then you can do it as many times as you need to, with all sorts of people. I will grant that maybe there is a perfect person, although that really seems to be a matter of chance - being in the right place at the right time and saying the right thing and not being a total idiot. But it doesn't work that way for everyone, and lots of people just make it work.
I don't really know how to tell if you're in love. I'm pretty sure I was in love with this guy in high school. I never really stopped feeling affection for this person, and I never felt disdain for him, as I eventually did for the scads of young men who mostly scorned me. Even now, he was the only person who dealt with our friendship well, despite the fact that I was crazy about him.
In any case, I have few expectations. I'd really like to be a romantic, I think, but it hurts too damn much at this point.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
so long so long so long
I like lists, so.
- It is RAINING in San Francisco. On June 28. And I like it, I really do. I have always said that it is absurd that the summer San Francisco sky is a white, glowing mass hovering above our heads. It is too bright to look at, but there is no reward for enduring it. But today it rained, it rained all morning and into the afternoon. Now there is fog settled between the houses and buildings, deep with the last vestiges of obscured light, and the shadow of a large tree ten blocks away is fading into the dark.
- The rain makes me feel nostalgic for the winter. It also makes me look forward to buying rainboots come early November.
- Sarah came to visit and I loved it so much. She made me dinner when I had an irrational breakdown on Friday and poured my shots when I finally made it back to a happy place. We went to new restaurants and settled in among the pre-Pride partiers in the topmost corner of Dolores Park, two days in a row. She made me go dancing despite my reservations and her good vibes helped me get lots of dances, even though I'm brand new still. We operate on very different time tables, and sometimes we drive each other crazy but she is one of my most faithful friends. Who else would still love me and encourage me when I send lovelorn text messages at 1 in the morning after drinking with What's His Face.
- I still have yet to hear back from prospective employers. I had my heart set on one of these two jobs, so I will ease myself back into the search simply by perusing the listings. I will then, tomorrow, sit in the cafe until I have applied to five. Thursday I will send my resume to a temp agency. I wish someone would just pay me for being my awesome self.
- July is always busy with visitors. Dear visitors, please spread yourselves out over the course of the year. You make me happier that way.
- I am going to try to write something tonight. WRITING. I have been forcing myself to read more, even if it is not a whole book. A short story here. A poem there. A fairy tale. An ENTIRE news article. Editorials. Reflections of beauty. I am going to try. It will be really terrible but I am going to try.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees refined. And he will destroy on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. he will swallow death up forever, and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth; for the Lord has spoken.
It will be said on that day, "Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation."
Isaiah 25:6-9, from the reading for March 29th.
We are halfway to Pascha (HOORAY!) and this is a beautiful reminder of what we have to look forward to.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The extent to which we love
What needs to differentiate Orthodox from non-Orthodox in America is not the extent to which we can be “Russian” or “Greek” or “Lebanese,” nor is it the extent to which we can be be stranger and weirder than anyone else. Rather, differences should be the extent to which we have such loving parishes that our young ladies wouldn’t consider having an abortion because we are our own social support system, the extent to which we support IOCC and local charities, the extent to which we pray for people, the extent to which we love.
. . . . .
Really, billboards? Really? “This blood’s for you” with a picture of a chalice? Come on. We’re not going to win that one people. Budweiser will always be more popular. Is the Gospel a less consumed competitor of Bud? Or of Coca-cola? The same holds with “trinket evangelism,” in which we print icons on anything with a surface size of at least two square inches. It’s all just about “the Great Commission”? Yes, but only if you realize that Great Commission has a liturgical context. As soon as you do that, I think you’ll pause before marketing Orthodoxy as mere commodity.Fr. Oliver Herbel reflecting on Self-Ghettoization and Trinket Evangelism in the Orthodox Church.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
So we've just completed the third week of Lent, and I feel totally laid out.
I feel like nothing I do is right. Or, rather, I'd like to do the right things - things that are good for me, things that are good for others - but I just have been kind of letting myself atrophy. This week I had all the intentions of being active, reading and getting a significant amount of work done, planning for the next few months, getting things in gear to move blindly forward into the formless void of whatever is next for me in my life.
Self-pity is like self cannibalism, which is a real thing and it's called autosarcophagy and I only googled it because I knew it had a cool Greek name but I don't really want to know about people who try to eat themselves, because that is disgusting.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Self-pity is like self-cannibalism, maybe. I keep eating away at myself, knowing that I shouldn't, but I do it anyway. Sometimes there are movements outside of myself, but after prolonged efforts at this I find myself retreating, alone all day, simultaneously loving it and hating it. I want someone to pull me out, to rescue me, but who can do that? Who will put up with my antics, and my fickleness? No one I know really wants to deal with that. I don't even want to put up with it. I only do because, well, I can't get away from myself - wherever you go, there you are, etc.
Even as I write this I am feeling really down on myself.
I'm really hoping that this week will prove to be a bit more successful, and that I can do things that are good for me. Not like going to the spa and indulging myself, but doing things that are good FOR me - like keeping a routine and reading books and spending time with people and getting out of the house and hiking and eating vegetables.
I feel like nothing I do is right. Or, rather, I'd like to do the right things - things that are good for me, things that are good for others - but I just have been kind of letting myself atrophy. This week I had all the intentions of being active, reading and getting a significant amount of work done, planning for the next few months, getting things in gear to move blindly forward into the formless void of whatever is next for me in my life.
Self-pity is like self cannibalism, which is a real thing and it's called autosarcophagy and I only googled it because I knew it had a cool Greek name but I don't really want to know about people who try to eat themselves, because that is disgusting.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Self-pity is like self-cannibalism, maybe. I keep eating away at myself, knowing that I shouldn't, but I do it anyway. Sometimes there are movements outside of myself, but after prolonged efforts at this I find myself retreating, alone all day, simultaneously loving it and hating it. I want someone to pull me out, to rescue me, but who can do that? Who will put up with my antics, and my fickleness? No one I know really wants to deal with that. I don't even want to put up with it. I only do because, well, I can't get away from myself - wherever you go, there you are, etc.
Even as I write this I am feeling really down on myself.
I'm really hoping that this week will prove to be a bit more successful, and that I can do things that are good for me. Not like going to the spa and indulging myself, but doing things that are good FOR me - like keeping a routine and reading books and spending time with people and getting out of the house and hiking and eating vegetables.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Today is St. Patrick's day, usually an excuse for people my age to indulge in "kegs and eggs" gatherings, take the day off of work for no damn good reason, and drink green beer and poorly-pulled Guinness.
Today marks for me one year since I started working with the Wise Elders at Raphael House, although I've been gone for about a month now. Trying to re-engage a program that in its past had been robust and incredible was a challenge. Unfortunately, because of the changes that have happened at Raphael House, I doubt that the program will continue.
When Raphael House was first getting started on Sutter Street, the original grants required that the community establish programs for the neighborhood elderly, many of whom were in need of the communal experience and life which was at the heart of life in that place. Some pretty incredible people brought this all to life, starting poetry groups, sewing circles, craft clubs, exercise classes, outdoor explorations, all for folks of retirement age. There was a senior lounge set aside on the first floor, and special holiday meals for those whose families were gone or far away. As the community shifted and changed, this part of Raphael House disappeared.
In 2010, we made the first attempt to try this again. I input data, sorted names and addresses, planned menus and activities, worked with Carmela to bring this all together. Initially it was difficult. For the first handful of weeks, we had Jerry and Sally, who were longtime friends of Raphael House, and later a few others who straggled along. We met once a week for tea and a hearty snack, and some sort of activity like painting or writing or games. For months we labored along averaging about 5 or 6 people each week. When I left a few weeks ago, we had doubled our numbers!
I really miss these folks. Sally with her self-effacing jokes, Jerry with his interminable stories, Gayle with her enthusiastic craftiness and penchant for activism, Jonny with his quiet manner, Mary with her hesitant openness to new things, Grace with her helpfulness and care for others, Mike with his children's book about Brazil, Joe with his flirty jokes, and all the rest with each of their own lovely quirks and traits.
The best part is that we got to be together.
I don't know that this will continue for much longer, and certainly there is little support for re-establishing the kind of program there was before. But this experience has definitely got me thinking about moving toward some sort of career working with older folks.
Today marks for me one year since I started working with the Wise Elders at Raphael House, although I've been gone for about a month now. Trying to re-engage a program that in its past had been robust and incredible was a challenge. Unfortunately, because of the changes that have happened at Raphael House, I doubt that the program will continue.
When Raphael House was first getting started on Sutter Street, the original grants required that the community establish programs for the neighborhood elderly, many of whom were in need of the communal experience and life which was at the heart of life in that place. Some pretty incredible people brought this all to life, starting poetry groups, sewing circles, craft clubs, exercise classes, outdoor explorations, all for folks of retirement age. There was a senior lounge set aside on the first floor, and special holiday meals for those whose families were gone or far away. As the community shifted and changed, this part of Raphael House disappeared.
In 2010, we made the first attempt to try this again. I input data, sorted names and addresses, planned menus and activities, worked with Carmela to bring this all together. Initially it was difficult. For the first handful of weeks, we had Jerry and Sally, who were longtime friends of Raphael House, and later a few others who straggled along. We met once a week for tea and a hearty snack, and some sort of activity like painting or writing or games. For months we labored along averaging about 5 or 6 people each week. When I left a few weeks ago, we had doubled our numbers!
I really miss these folks. Sally with her self-effacing jokes, Jerry with his interminable stories, Gayle with her enthusiastic craftiness and penchant for activism, Jonny with his quiet manner, Mary with her hesitant openness to new things, Grace with her helpfulness and care for others, Mike with his children's book about Brazil, Joe with his flirty jokes, and all the rest with each of their own lovely quirks and traits.
The best part is that we got to be together.
I don't know that this will continue for much longer, and certainly there is little support for re-establishing the kind of program there was before. But this experience has definitely got me thinking about moving toward some sort of career working with older folks.
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