Lord, I don't know where all this is going
or how it all works out
lead us to peace that is past understanding
a peace beyond all doubt
-newsboys
Monday, January 29, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
walking on water
when spring fed dog pond warms up enough for swimming, which usually isn't until june, i often go there in the late afternoon. sometimes i will sit on a sun-warmed rock to dry, and think of peter walking across the water to meet jesus. as long as he didn't remember that we human beings have forgotten how to walk on water, he was able to do it.
-madeleine l'engle, walking on water
-madeleine l'engle, walking on water
Thursday, January 25, 2007
every light
so, i've come back, once more, to the floor in front of my fireplace. outside my sliding door it is a spring darkness, and the coals in my chimney have long since grown cold (very literary, i would say).
this feels very familiar. my first journals in my townhouse were written right here... except back then i had no couches, and my computer desk was a dining room chair. now my desk is the floor. i've come a long way.
so rather than do the smart thing and eat, or do homework, i'm stuck in the house alone, reflecting on the familiar things in my life.
a) dishes. i started my dish pit job in my school's cafeteria again, for need of food. i'm not officially on staff, so i don't get to have any hours, so, i'm abnout to find out what it means to be a starving student (sigh).
funny, i can stop working there for an entire year, and still know every single niche' about dish washing. my summer job, for two weeks, was doing dishes in a greasy pub, a circumstance filled with many a good story and anology. but thats not the point.
it feels very familiar.
b) i haven't felt all that mature in that past week. reason; for the past week i've been walking through a bog of sad childhood memories, trying to get inspiration for my final christian imagination project. my project is going to be a small collection of poetry and prose, about my faith.
i've discovered something. i've only started processing pain this year. essentially, i'm in a place where i can feel sorry for all the things i never got to feel sorry for, and find healing.
or i might just be crazy.
c) so, to restate the last point, i'm processing pain. i've started to allow myself to feel forgiveness- freedom from unessesary guilt. having pain in ones' life, as every twentysomething has probably figured out by now, is neccesary for growth, for figuring out who we are, where our lives are going, and... in a sense, who God is.
d) i'm tired. it could be because i'm not getting enough excerise, or not getting enough vitmains or i'm drinking too much green tea, or there is some chemical imbalance i'm not aware of.
or there is the less popular theory- i'm bogged down by painful experiences i still have to realize.
e) sometimes its hard to see past our own pain. i like to think that getting past a season of difficulty will allow room for compassion to grow.
again. all of this- working in dishpits, processing pain, resting on my left elbow on the floor... it all feels so familiar.
every light is a longing to run,
every ocean a longing to sail,
every car past my window is a longing to walk,
every evergreen is a longing to be free.
-adam
this feels very familiar. my first journals in my townhouse were written right here... except back then i had no couches, and my computer desk was a dining room chair. now my desk is the floor. i've come a long way.
so rather than do the smart thing and eat, or do homework, i'm stuck in the house alone, reflecting on the familiar things in my life.
a) dishes. i started my dish pit job in my school's cafeteria again, for need of food. i'm not officially on staff, so i don't get to have any hours, so, i'm abnout to find out what it means to be a starving student (sigh).
funny, i can stop working there for an entire year, and still know every single niche' about dish washing. my summer job, for two weeks, was doing dishes in a greasy pub, a circumstance filled with many a good story and anology. but thats not the point.
it feels very familiar.
b) i haven't felt all that mature in that past week. reason; for the past week i've been walking through a bog of sad childhood memories, trying to get inspiration for my final christian imagination project. my project is going to be a small collection of poetry and prose, about my faith.
i've discovered something. i've only started processing pain this year. essentially, i'm in a place where i can feel sorry for all the things i never got to feel sorry for, and find healing.
or i might just be crazy.
c) so, to restate the last point, i'm processing pain. i've started to allow myself to feel forgiveness- freedom from unessesary guilt. having pain in ones' life, as every twentysomething has probably figured out by now, is neccesary for growth, for figuring out who we are, where our lives are going, and... in a sense, who God is.
d) i'm tired. it could be because i'm not getting enough excerise, or not getting enough vitmains or i'm drinking too much green tea, or there is some chemical imbalance i'm not aware of.
or there is the less popular theory- i'm bogged down by painful experiences i still have to realize.
e) sometimes its hard to see past our own pain. i like to think that getting past a season of difficulty will allow room for compassion to grow.
again. all of this- working in dishpits, processing pain, resting on my left elbow on the floor... it all feels so familiar.
every light is a longing to run,
every ocean a longing to sail,
every car past my window is a longing to walk,
every evergreen is a longing to be free.
-adam
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
home
i came to the party,
you couldn't see me,
walked home in dark, the rainy night,
funny how those still comfort me.
went back to my house,
it wasn't home,
hid my face in my hands, till i fell asleep,
funny, don't feel i belong.
i found my place,
for now at least.
thought it was home for awhile, but i still feel so empty,
not sure if i'll ever be complete.
you couldn't see me,
walked home in dark, the rainy night,
funny how those still comfort me.
went back to my house,
it wasn't home,
hid my face in my hands, till i fell asleep,
funny, don't feel i belong.
i found my place,
for now at least.
thought it was home for awhile, but i still feel so empty,
not sure if i'll ever be complete.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
cafes and fireplaces
the first day of spring was today or so i thought to myself, walking to my school past the patches of green, hidden just yesterday by snow. the sun was behind some clouds, distorted and opaque, trying to wake up from a long sleep.
i drank two pots of tea today, which threw me into kind of a writing mood... so i had to take advantage of it, rather than read a book, for which a report is due on tuesday. it must have been my issues with technology that caused me to drink the said two pots, without thinking. this morning i was trying to upload pictures from my computer to a flash drive, with sundry results. my computer crashed twice initially. then i uploaded the photos, and tried to transfer them onto my flash drive, and it wasn't working, so i pulled the drive out and it fell apart in my hand.
deep breath. the lights in the room i am in (the bearcat cafe) just shut off. glad it was not my computer. so, computers are a tool. and not in the good way.
i have a date set for my poetry show. by date i mean a day, not a person to accompany me. it is febuary 15th, the day after valentines day. is that too perfect, or too passe', i can't decide (i don't even know what passe' means). i will resist the temptation to write bitter love poems this year... no, really.
i'm trying to get my two worship arts teachers, and my english prof from last year, to attend the show. also, trying to get my artsy menno grass-roots teacher to perform. so, gareth, nelson, tony, hans... if any of you read this blog, or acknowledge it's existance, you now have plans for the 15th.
so anyway, back to spring. spring, as i understand it, is a time of "revival"... though that is not my favorite word to use. revival is too, i don't know, joyful of a word to use. to me spring is a time of re-trying things, or starting over. spring is a time when we try new things, in order to move past the things that didn't work last year. on a similiar note, we are discovering that the things that brought us joy last year just aren't cutting it anymore. this time of year, can hurt a lot for most...
-------------------------------------------
update, i got kicked out of the bearcat cafe, closing early in the afternoon for some reason. i guess thats why the lights turned out.
so now i'm sitting on my floor, in front of my fireplace, typing on my piece laptop. the sun has gone to sleep again, the sky clear and the cold coming in for it's last hurrah. i tried to capture the dying of the snow on my camera, the patches of white on the field, and the rich green.
spring feels empty at the moment- like i'm waiting for this new season to feel good. maybe i'm too reluctant to lay down the pains of a previous season, or maybe i'm too afraid of the new, unexpected, pains the next season will bring. season changes always hurt, but i like to think that these changes are shaping my character... i could be crazy.
in any case, i have spent far too much time immersed in techonogical wonder today. i need to get out of the house, soon.
-adam
i drank two pots of tea today, which threw me into kind of a writing mood... so i had to take advantage of it, rather than read a book, for which a report is due on tuesday. it must have been my issues with technology that caused me to drink the said two pots, without thinking. this morning i was trying to upload pictures from my computer to a flash drive, with sundry results. my computer crashed twice initially. then i uploaded the photos, and tried to transfer them onto my flash drive, and it wasn't working, so i pulled the drive out and it fell apart in my hand.
deep breath. the lights in the room i am in (the bearcat cafe) just shut off. glad it was not my computer. so, computers are a tool. and not in the good way.
i have a date set for my poetry show. by date i mean a day, not a person to accompany me. it is febuary 15th, the day after valentines day. is that too perfect, or too passe', i can't decide (i don't even know what passe' means). i will resist the temptation to write bitter love poems this year... no, really.
i'm trying to get my two worship arts teachers, and my english prof from last year, to attend the show. also, trying to get my artsy menno grass-roots teacher to perform. so, gareth, nelson, tony, hans... if any of you read this blog, or acknowledge it's existance, you now have plans for the 15th.
so anyway, back to spring. spring, as i understand it, is a time of "revival"... though that is not my favorite word to use. revival is too, i don't know, joyful of a word to use. to me spring is a time of re-trying things, or starting over. spring is a time when we try new things, in order to move past the things that didn't work last year. on a similiar note, we are discovering that the things that brought us joy last year just aren't cutting it anymore. this time of year, can hurt a lot for most...
-------------------------------------------
update, i got kicked out of the bearcat cafe, closing early in the afternoon for some reason. i guess thats why the lights turned out.
so now i'm sitting on my floor, in front of my fireplace, typing on my piece laptop. the sun has gone to sleep again, the sky clear and the cold coming in for it's last hurrah. i tried to capture the dying of the snow on my camera, the patches of white on the field, and the rich green.
spring feels empty at the moment- like i'm waiting for this new season to feel good. maybe i'm too reluctant to lay down the pains of a previous season, or maybe i'm too afraid of the new, unexpected, pains the next season will bring. season changes always hurt, but i like to think that these changes are shaping my character... i could be crazy.
in any case, i have spent far too much time immersed in techonogical wonder today. i need to get out of the house, soon.
-adam
Friday, January 19, 2007
unsettled and empty thoughts
a couple things have struck me as odd today (it hurt).
1) coffee does not make me relaxed, and feeling deep and philisophical anymore. it makes me feel anxious, wired, and generally unsettled. grrr. this is a frustrating.
2) technology can be a drag, both when it works perfectly and when it sucks and breaks down. points in question- a- my phone has been dead for a month, b) my computer, and my roomates computer, both broke down with the same ridiculous power source problem.
with this point, i conclude that i'm either hooked to technology, using it way too much to the point of feeling empty, to not being able to use it at all. not being able to use it, of course, helps me see all the practical and neccesary tasks (such as phone calls, writing, homework) that the technological wonders exist for. which, of course, i would have never seen if they had not broken down.
3) eugene peterson writes ridiculously concisely
4) my habit of buying books does not bring me much joy anymore. it leaves me with an empty sort of feeling, seeing as the ratio to buying books is a lot higher than the ratio of reading said books.
5) i am writing this pointless entry to avoid starting a paper. that said. i will feel bad, and log off very quickly.
6) things just aren't the same, today.
1) coffee does not make me relaxed, and feeling deep and philisophical anymore. it makes me feel anxious, wired, and generally unsettled. grrr. this is a frustrating.
2) technology can be a drag, both when it works perfectly and when it sucks and breaks down. points in question- a- my phone has been dead for a month, b) my computer, and my roomates computer, both broke down with the same ridiculous power source problem.
with this point, i conclude that i'm either hooked to technology, using it way too much to the point of feeling empty, to not being able to use it at all. not being able to use it, of course, helps me see all the practical and neccesary tasks (such as phone calls, writing, homework) that the technological wonders exist for. which, of course, i would have never seen if they had not broken down.
3) eugene peterson writes ridiculously concisely
4) my habit of buying books does not bring me much joy anymore. it leaves me with an empty sort of feeling, seeing as the ratio to buying books is a lot higher than the ratio of reading said books.
5) i am writing this pointless entry to avoid starting a paper. that said. i will feel bad, and log off very quickly.
6) things just aren't the same, today.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
all who wander
so, for the first day of my christian imagination class the prof, tony funk, asked his students to write a short story... on the spot.
our inspiration was driven by bach, playing in the background, and this picture- rembrandt's "the return of the prodigal son"- sitting on the desk in front of us.
so i started writing this story, pulling out random thoughts of my road trip to canmore last summer, and stories told to me of south america, from peace teams and missional friends, aka friends who visited these places (what do you call them?). for the record i am not from canmore, and i have never been to colombia or bolivia.
"...god only knows."
"why did you make me this way", the pilgrim whispered, half in desperation, half in frustration. "i don't make sense," he continued, "the things i do trying to find acceptance. i walked 30 days to the top of this damn mountain, trying to find peace... i may as well have stayed home..."
its at this point that i start telling my story. How i found, in all my blessing, that i was unhappy and empty... how i was constantly discontent, always longing for something deeper, having it always out of my reach.
i started this life in a small canadian home in the rockies, outside canmore, alberta. god knows how it brought me to colombia and bolivia. god knows because god dragged me here... well, thats not fair i suppose. god just gave me a longing to leave that consumed my dreams, filled my thoughts, kept me awake at night. i couldn't escape it. i call it... a call. this call took me from a comfortable middle class "insurance salesman's son", destined for great things, enrolled at SAIT- to cashing in my tuition, in favor of running from guns and standing in peace lines in south america.
the rest of my story is what cause me to to climb the most unexplored hill i could find, hoping to hear the voice of god- just tell me what he was thinking, and not leave me to assume. god only knows how much of the story will help me find something. my name is "pilgrim".
---------------------------------------
and for the record the character's name in the story is not really pilgrim... its paul. and someday, i will get around to finishing this story.
-adam.
our inspiration was driven by bach, playing in the background, and this picture- rembrandt's "the return of the prodigal son"- sitting on the desk in front of us.
so i started writing this story, pulling out random thoughts of my road trip to canmore last summer, and stories told to me of south america, from peace teams and missional friends, aka friends who visited these places (what do you call them?). for the record i am not from canmore, and i have never been to colombia or bolivia.
"...god only knows."
"why did you make me this way", the pilgrim whispered, half in desperation, half in frustration. "i don't make sense," he continued, "the things i do trying to find acceptance. i walked 30 days to the top of this damn mountain, trying to find peace... i may as well have stayed home..."
its at this point that i start telling my story. How i found, in all my blessing, that i was unhappy and empty... how i was constantly discontent, always longing for something deeper, having it always out of my reach.
i started this life in a small canadian home in the rockies, outside canmore, alberta. god knows how it brought me to colombia and bolivia. god knows because god dragged me here... well, thats not fair i suppose. god just gave me a longing to leave that consumed my dreams, filled my thoughts, kept me awake at night. i couldn't escape it. i call it... a call. this call took me from a comfortable middle class "insurance salesman's son", destined for great things, enrolled at SAIT- to cashing in my tuition, in favor of running from guns and standing in peace lines in south america.
the rest of my story is what cause me to to climb the most unexplored hill i could find, hoping to hear the voice of god- just tell me what he was thinking, and not leave me to assume. god only knows how much of the story will help me find something. my name is "pilgrim".
---------------------------------------
and for the record the character's name in the story is not really pilgrim... its paul. and someday, i will get around to finishing this story.
-adam.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
belonging
thought of the day, in complete randomness;
"belonging is either something you have, or something you have to find"
feel free to add.
"belonging is either something you have, or something you have to find"
feel free to add.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
i stopped believing
i stopped believing in miracles,
stopped trying to walk on water,
too afraid i would sink, or fail.
i stopped beliving the world was beautiful,
who am i to try and change you're mind?
i stopped seeing angels,
only unoffecnsive pictures, and porcelain figures.
is my faith supposed to be so childish?
i traded my longing for maturity,
my innocence in favor of a "real world"
where that kind of shit isn't real anymore.
i started calling my questions empty,
i stopped believing in answers,
in a God that wants to talk to me.
love turned to cliche, we screwed it up,
nothing makes sense to me anymore.
so i was reading "walking on water"... then i was abruptly inteupted, so i wrote this. long story short.
stopped trying to walk on water,
too afraid i would sink, or fail.
i stopped beliving the world was beautiful,
who am i to try and change you're mind?
i stopped seeing angels,
only unoffecnsive pictures, and porcelain figures.
is my faith supposed to be so childish?
i traded my longing for maturity,
my innocence in favor of a "real world"
where that kind of shit isn't real anymore.
i started calling my questions empty,
i stopped believing in answers,
in a God that wants to talk to me.
love turned to cliche, we screwed it up,
nothing makes sense to me anymore.
so i was reading "walking on water"... then i was abruptly inteupted, so i wrote this. long story short.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
... God only knows. part 1
random thoughts, most of which have no point.
i was walking on ice today, from my house to the school, to drop off garbage, and other such things. when i wasn't in the snow it seemed appropropriate to stay inside, in the warmth of my house, the temperature a little chilly even there. and being inside, as always, i'm unsure what to do with myself. to assign myself to disciplines, spiritual or otherwise... or to waste away the time eating cheap food, coffee, pigging out on whatever i could find in my fridge- eating for the sake of eating.
theres a music channel i listen to on my TV. its called spa. when i listen to it time moves slowly. all the hundreds of errands of the day are simplified. all i'm left with is the slow- the echo white keys and silver strings. the peace is almost unbearable. i think i need to be doing something, filling my free time with readings or writings, journaling or whatever else.
i'm never sure what to do with myself. when i'm given the chance to rest my thoughts, at home by myself or in chapel, i find that i can't relax. my thoughts are consumed with all the things i have to get done after chapel, making rest impossible. so, i always feel awkward when i come before God. i'm offered a chance to meet with my creator, but i can't sit still long enough to receive some kind of comfort- a rest to make my full days a little less... full.
i often feel like i'm filling time with things, trying to preserve the gift of time as much as possible before i lose it- before i'm sitting in my house at 11 pm looking back on my day, wishing i had spent my time a little wiser, wishing i could have accomplished more- wishing i had spent a couple more minutes taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders.
but thats life for a student. life is running around, never slowing down. every so often, in some kind of post-caffeine lull, i sit in my house running out my thoughts, hoping that at least one will sound meaningful.
and so, that said... i feel kind of empty. i feel that a lot. sometimes i think that i'm empty because i haven't allowed god to fill me up. i go into chapels trying to sing, having a kind of lack of confidence. i feel like i could be singing better, feeling ashamed because i can't give it my all... knowing i could be doing better.
it goes on like that. i spend more time talking about god than to god. i spend more time reflecting on my emptiness, never asking god to fill it. I spend more time wishing i could stand outside for a little longer, breathing the air, asking god to give me some answers. everything word i wish i could say... is never really said. i just settle on god always seeming quiet, always wonder why christ never talks to me... but i'm not sure how to listen. and it feels like i'm not worth feeling comfortable with my faith. honestly, i don't feel worthy of grace.
but, i am. i know, deep down, i'm worth something.
well, there are my late-night thoughts... i'm sure they will have changed soon.
i was walking on ice today, from my house to the school, to drop off garbage, and other such things. when i wasn't in the snow it seemed appropropriate to stay inside, in the warmth of my house, the temperature a little chilly even there. and being inside, as always, i'm unsure what to do with myself. to assign myself to disciplines, spiritual or otherwise... or to waste away the time eating cheap food, coffee, pigging out on whatever i could find in my fridge- eating for the sake of eating.
theres a music channel i listen to on my TV. its called spa. when i listen to it time moves slowly. all the hundreds of errands of the day are simplified. all i'm left with is the slow- the echo white keys and silver strings. the peace is almost unbearable. i think i need to be doing something, filling my free time with readings or writings, journaling or whatever else.
i'm never sure what to do with myself. when i'm given the chance to rest my thoughts, at home by myself or in chapel, i find that i can't relax. my thoughts are consumed with all the things i have to get done after chapel, making rest impossible. so, i always feel awkward when i come before God. i'm offered a chance to meet with my creator, but i can't sit still long enough to receive some kind of comfort- a rest to make my full days a little less... full.
i often feel like i'm filling time with things, trying to preserve the gift of time as much as possible before i lose it- before i'm sitting in my house at 11 pm looking back on my day, wishing i had spent my time a little wiser, wishing i could have accomplished more- wishing i had spent a couple more minutes taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders.
but thats life for a student. life is running around, never slowing down. every so often, in some kind of post-caffeine lull, i sit in my house running out my thoughts, hoping that at least one will sound meaningful.
and so, that said... i feel kind of empty. i feel that a lot. sometimes i think that i'm empty because i haven't allowed god to fill me up. i go into chapels trying to sing, having a kind of lack of confidence. i feel like i could be singing better, feeling ashamed because i can't give it my all... knowing i could be doing better.
it goes on like that. i spend more time talking about god than to god. i spend more time reflecting on my emptiness, never asking god to fill it. I spend more time wishing i could stand outside for a little longer, breathing the air, asking god to give me some answers. everything word i wish i could say... is never really said. i just settle on god always seeming quiet, always wonder why christ never talks to me... but i'm not sure how to listen. and it feels like i'm not worth feeling comfortable with my faith. honestly, i don't feel worthy of grace.
but, i am. i know, deep down, i'm worth something.
well, there are my late-night thoughts... i'm sure they will have changed soon.
coffee induced humility
ooooh, man!!! i am ridiculously coffee wired at the moment! whooo!
i came home to plan out my semester, and made some coffee to help me relax a bit, which didn't quite work out that well. i brewed the coffee about three times as strong, hoping for a strong, full flavored brew. so, i mixed a a bit of fair trade sumatra with a heap of starbucks christmas blend... and i'll tell you, the brew was so strong i could hardly manage the flavor! so dark! a coffee hater's nightmare.
my room-mate was bragging to me about his new favorite class, called "rock, faith, and pop culture", a class where you get to listen to, compare, and discuss popular music. which is what i so love to do! ah! i'm so jealous. so, i sat around in my wired state naming off all the hundreds of CDs i have loved over the years- among them;
jeremy camp - stay
newsboys - thrive
goo goo dolls - gutterflower
the benjamin gate - contact
third day- conspiracy # 5
seventh day slumber - picking up the pieces
ten shekel shirt - more
lifehouse - no name face (of course)
john mayer - heavier things
mae - destination beautiful
POD - satelite
bleach - again for the first time
red hot chili peppers - californication
demon hunter - summer of darkness
mxpx - panic
to name a few. i could talk music for hours... hours. anberlin's new CD comes out soon. whoot.
so, then i was walking to david iwai's place, and i passed by a rabbit. i recognized it as the same rabbit that i was chasing in the snow yesterday, for a couple minutes. i walked close to the furry creature, and it didn't flinch at my sight, or seem to be very afraid of me. apperantly rabbits are very forgiving. maybe the rabbit knew i was just being a goof, and understood thusly- or maybe i'm thinking too much like a hippy for my own good. thats what i get for wearing green and brown, and drinking fair trade coffee.
lyrics of the day, sung to me in my coffee induced haze;
Look at that big fat full moon
Hanging in the night
When I feel it calling me
The shackles seem to bite
These chains of flesh are sour and sweet
But these we must explore, oh
I know I'm going to feel complete
When I see you tomorrow
-bruce cockburn
that said, i've had my last cup of coffee for a looooong time. someone please lock up my coffee, and hide the key.
i came home to plan out my semester, and made some coffee to help me relax a bit, which didn't quite work out that well. i brewed the coffee about three times as strong, hoping for a strong, full flavored brew. so, i mixed a a bit of fair trade sumatra with a heap of starbucks christmas blend... and i'll tell you, the brew was so strong i could hardly manage the flavor! so dark! a coffee hater's nightmare.
my room-mate was bragging to me about his new favorite class, called "rock, faith, and pop culture", a class where you get to listen to, compare, and discuss popular music. which is what i so love to do! ah! i'm so jealous. so, i sat around in my wired state naming off all the hundreds of CDs i have loved over the years- among them;
jeremy camp - stay
newsboys - thrive
goo goo dolls - gutterflower
the benjamin gate - contact
third day- conspiracy # 5
seventh day slumber - picking up the pieces
ten shekel shirt - more
lifehouse - no name face (of course)
john mayer - heavier things
mae - destination beautiful
POD - satelite
bleach - again for the first time
red hot chili peppers - californication
demon hunter - summer of darkness
mxpx - panic
to name a few. i could talk music for hours... hours. anberlin's new CD comes out soon. whoot.
so, then i was walking to david iwai's place, and i passed by a rabbit. i recognized it as the same rabbit that i was chasing in the snow yesterday, for a couple minutes. i walked close to the furry creature, and it didn't flinch at my sight, or seem to be very afraid of me. apperantly rabbits are very forgiving. maybe the rabbit knew i was just being a goof, and understood thusly- or maybe i'm thinking too much like a hippy for my own good. thats what i get for wearing green and brown, and drinking fair trade coffee.
lyrics of the day, sung to me in my coffee induced haze;
Look at that big fat full moon
Hanging in the night
When I feel it calling me
The shackles seem to bite
These chains of flesh are sour and sweet
But these we must explore, oh
I know I'm going to feel complete
When I see you tomorrow
-bruce cockburn
that said, i've had my last cup of coffee for a looooong time. someone please lock up my coffee, and hide the key.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
friends and photographs part two
here are a couple pictures from my 3 week adventure on the island. i must say, my highlight of the trip was getting as far away from nanaimo as possible.
here i am, sitting in the back seat of a truck. this is ladysmith, right now, about a half hour drive from victoria. i love a good road trip.
this is a lake, on vancouver island. i almost fell in taking this picture, in the pouring rain. i kind of wish i had a better angle.
and heres a kid from my youth group in nanaimo, taking the plunge. no, i'm not a creeper... i'm a youth leader.
and this happy little picture is the lighthouse i was telling you about. again, the need for a better angle, zoom, and overall exposure is evident with my sony cybershot aka, tourist camera.Friday, January 05, 2007
don't feel like it
its grey, rainy,
the empty fountains full,
it doesen't feel like that kind of day,
doesn't feel anything.
i'm just missing something,
not getting the picture,
some colors aren't working,
or maybe its me,
it doesen't feel like anything.
its empty and the air is overcast,
don't feel like i'm worth it right now
its not the day to get anything done,
so not the time or place.
------------------------------------------------------
its cold, i'm trying,
to say what hurts,
without actually saying it.
its poetry, its kind of empty,
the words lose rythym,
the hurts bogged down and cheapened.
the empty fountains full,
it doesen't feel like that kind of day,
doesn't feel anything.
i'm just missing something,
not getting the picture,
some colors aren't working,
or maybe its me,
it doesen't feel like anything.
its empty and the air is overcast,
don't feel like i'm worth it right now
its not the day to get anything done,
so not the time or place.
------------------------------------------------------
its cold, i'm trying,
to say what hurts,
without actually saying it.
its poetry, its kind of empty,
the words lose rythym,
the hurts bogged down and cheapened.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
red tea and lighthouses
1) i think there is a cheesy, sentimental quality to some of the poems i write. in true disney princess movie style they are the kind that make you roll you're eyes, as if to say "welcome to the real world". i think. i had to start this entry with a very random thought in order to lose you're attention.
2) i finally made it home yesterday. the 6 hour ride was brutal. travelling alone is a real drag. the ferry ride had its moments though. i've never ridden the victoria/twassen ferry before, which, for those people who have taken it know, it is a big impressive ferry. i've always just taken the crappy nanaimo ferrys, that are either stuck in the 80s or the late 90s. the victoria ferry has two floors of seating, and an incredible amount of space.
and, the ride itself is a lot more interesting that the nanaimo routes. the ferry in nanaimo travels across an open span of water, to wherever. the victoria ferry takes a detour between two islands. i remember standing out on the ferry deck as the ferry passed through the two islands, seeing houses built on the coasts of the islands. and it was quiet. i can't imagine a more quiet and solutidinous (is that a word) place to live... other than weird farm houses in the boonies, or manitoba.
one of the houses has a lighthouse, which drove my imagination. i imagined living in that place, spending long nights kept awake beaming glow of the light beside my house, listening to the ocean roll into the rocks, with the occasional fog-horn and sea shanty sung by passing fisherman (ha ha, i have a weird imagination). its now on the offical list of places i would like to live in if i ever decide to go crazy, become a writer, and get paid to write prose.
3) when i was in nanaimo, wishing i could just go home to abbotsford, i envisioned home to be some completely safe place. i thought all my problems would be easier to deal with if i were home. like paying bills and writing. as soon as i walked into the door i realized, nothing has changed. messes left in my room are still lying around. unsinished food is still in the fridge. i am just as comfortable with my room-mates now, then when i left.
so i've realized, home must be some kind of constant. when i would go home to nanaimo everything would be the same. but i would be different. and its the same way with coming to my new home. everything is the same.
on the ither hand my idea of home is always changing, because i'm always changing. my ideas, my perspectives, how i understand the world is always shifting.
so i guess what i have actually realized is the need to always search for home. for now i'm comfortable in abbotsford. it feels safe enough. but who knows, i will probably find a new place to call home eventually. home is where i change. where i feel safe.
home is a lot of things.
4) i realized that the one thing i was waiting for in 2007 was the new lifehouse album. now i think i'm waiting to find... i don't really know... some place to rest.
2) i finally made it home yesterday. the 6 hour ride was brutal. travelling alone is a real drag. the ferry ride had its moments though. i've never ridden the victoria/twassen ferry before, which, for those people who have taken it know, it is a big impressive ferry. i've always just taken the crappy nanaimo ferrys, that are either stuck in the 80s or the late 90s. the victoria ferry has two floors of seating, and an incredible amount of space.
and, the ride itself is a lot more interesting that the nanaimo routes. the ferry in nanaimo travels across an open span of water, to wherever. the victoria ferry takes a detour between two islands. i remember standing out on the ferry deck as the ferry passed through the two islands, seeing houses built on the coasts of the islands. and it was quiet. i can't imagine a more quiet and solutidinous (is that a word) place to live... other than weird farm houses in the boonies, or manitoba.
one of the houses has a lighthouse, which drove my imagination. i imagined living in that place, spending long nights kept awake beaming glow of the light beside my house, listening to the ocean roll into the rocks, with the occasional fog-horn and sea shanty sung by passing fisherman (ha ha, i have a weird imagination). its now on the offical list of places i would like to live in if i ever decide to go crazy, become a writer, and get paid to write prose.
3) when i was in nanaimo, wishing i could just go home to abbotsford, i envisioned home to be some completely safe place. i thought all my problems would be easier to deal with if i were home. like paying bills and writing. as soon as i walked into the door i realized, nothing has changed. messes left in my room are still lying around. unsinished food is still in the fridge. i am just as comfortable with my room-mates now, then when i left.
so i've realized, home must be some kind of constant. when i would go home to nanaimo everything would be the same. but i would be different. and its the same way with coming to my new home. everything is the same.
on the ither hand my idea of home is always changing, because i'm always changing. my ideas, my perspectives, how i understand the world is always shifting.
so i guess what i have actually realized is the need to always search for home. for now i'm comfortable in abbotsford. it feels safe enough. but who knows, i will probably find a new place to call home eventually. home is where i change. where i feel safe.
home is a lot of things.
4) i realized that the one thing i was waiting for in 2007 was the new lifehouse album. now i think i'm waiting to find... i don't really know... some place to rest.
Monday, January 01, 2007
leaving things behind
so, i wrote this yesterday, sitting in a church in port alberni, after a day and a half of sledding and crazy fun and what not. so, i wrote like crazy for a couple hours. so, in a couple days i'm going to sit down and re-read this over a cup of french pressed sumatra, and write an inspired article of some kind. we'll see.
-----------------------------------------------
its been a crazy fun weekend so far. a weekend of chucking things at kids while trying to pronounce well thought out (well, not really) one-liners with my cheesy youth leader voice. which kind of sounds like ron burgendy meets oscar the grouch... if you can picture that.
so yesterday we drove halfway up this small mountain, parked our vans and cars and started walking up this icy, somewhat stiff snow. the majority of the mass of white covering the ground was partially frozen ice, with a thin layer of powder covering. we sledded for a good two hours on this icy, rocky hill, which consisted of me crashing into a pile of rocks, and playing with sticks.
after that we had a lunch of hot-dogs and noodles- and some chai tea that i snuck up in my crappy blue winter jacket.then a big group of us decided to scale the mountain a bit, walking on the logging road for about 45 minutes, halfway up the mountain.
from there i could see into the valley- a series of rolling hills covered in high evergreens. the fog rolled in a couple times, like a cloud moving across the sky, and clearing up again. while i was sledding down the hill i went off the edge of the road into a steep gorge, but i didn't slide down the huge hill. some trees broke my fall.
the few points when i wasn't doing super fast crazy carpet runs i was standing on the side of the road, looking into the valley at the clouds covering the lower parts of the trees, which extended into a giant mass of grey, which i interpreted as the ocean. i felt like i was on top of the world, like a traveler looking in awe at the progress i had made so far. so then i looked across the forest and i could see the very top of the mountain- masses of rock covered in snow, with black patched of cliff sticking out. i preferred not to think about how far it would take me to get to the top of the peaks... or how ridiculously painful the sled ride down would feel.
so after that we sledded back down. a 45 minute walk up turned into a 10 minute ride down. hitting the rocks on the way down really hurt.
i feel really dry right now... i won't lie. i'm not used to things being so quiet. i'm used to a ridiculous amount of traffic in my ear all the time, filling the void of quiet with a thousand thoughts per second to wrestle with. when i was lying on top of the mountain, by myself for about ten minutes, i came to a sudden realization that it was quiet- that there was no sound, not even of traffic from a highway a mile away. with my best attempts i could make out the sound of water flowing from a creek.
and i feel dry because i've been away from home too long. on one hand everything feels familiar here, on the island. i grew up here, so it makes sense that i'm used to how things work around here. i'm used to the fact that drivers drive slowly, that the forest is always a walk away, and that nobody seems to change. everything is in a constant flow of unchanging.
some day it feels like i'm trying to change the flow, to fit my new circumstances... only, its not that easy to change something that has been a certain way for a long time. people don't change... or they don't want to. and people don't want to do things differently. its not natural.
so i think any attempt at change we make has to be intentional. we can't change unless we want to. or, we can't change unless we are open to Christ.
the one thing i have learned from change so far is that it hurts. change requires us to break old habits, to leave things behind, or to change the constant flow of day to day life we find ourselves in.
-----------------------------------------------
its been a crazy fun weekend so far. a weekend of chucking things at kids while trying to pronounce well thought out (well, not really) one-liners with my cheesy youth leader voice. which kind of sounds like ron burgendy meets oscar the grouch... if you can picture that.
so yesterday we drove halfway up this small mountain, parked our vans and cars and started walking up this icy, somewhat stiff snow. the majority of the mass of white covering the ground was partially frozen ice, with a thin layer of powder covering. we sledded for a good two hours on this icy, rocky hill, which consisted of me crashing into a pile of rocks, and playing with sticks.
after that we had a lunch of hot-dogs and noodles- and some chai tea that i snuck up in my crappy blue winter jacket.then a big group of us decided to scale the mountain a bit, walking on the logging road for about 45 minutes, halfway up the mountain.
from there i could see into the valley- a series of rolling hills covered in high evergreens. the fog rolled in a couple times, like a cloud moving across the sky, and clearing up again. while i was sledding down the hill i went off the edge of the road into a steep gorge, but i didn't slide down the huge hill. some trees broke my fall.
the few points when i wasn't doing super fast crazy carpet runs i was standing on the side of the road, looking into the valley at the clouds covering the lower parts of the trees, which extended into a giant mass of grey, which i interpreted as the ocean. i felt like i was on top of the world, like a traveler looking in awe at the progress i had made so far. so then i looked across the forest and i could see the very top of the mountain- masses of rock covered in snow, with black patched of cliff sticking out. i preferred not to think about how far it would take me to get to the top of the peaks... or how ridiculously painful the sled ride down would feel.
so after that we sledded back down. a 45 minute walk up turned into a 10 minute ride down. hitting the rocks on the way down really hurt.
i feel really dry right now... i won't lie. i'm not used to things being so quiet. i'm used to a ridiculous amount of traffic in my ear all the time, filling the void of quiet with a thousand thoughts per second to wrestle with. when i was lying on top of the mountain, by myself for about ten minutes, i came to a sudden realization that it was quiet- that there was no sound, not even of traffic from a highway a mile away. with my best attempts i could make out the sound of water flowing from a creek.
and i feel dry because i've been away from home too long. on one hand everything feels familiar here, on the island. i grew up here, so it makes sense that i'm used to how things work around here. i'm used to the fact that drivers drive slowly, that the forest is always a walk away, and that nobody seems to change. everything is in a constant flow of unchanging.
some day it feels like i'm trying to change the flow, to fit my new circumstances... only, its not that easy to change something that has been a certain way for a long time. people don't change... or they don't want to. and people don't want to do things differently. its not natural.
so i think any attempt at change we make has to be intentional. we can't change unless we want to. or, we can't change unless we are open to Christ.
the one thing i have learned from change so far is that it hurts. change requires us to break old habits, to leave things behind, or to change the constant flow of day to day life we find ourselves in.
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