So- I am trying to resist my feelings of failure that result from being pressured into creating a blog and then allowing life to take over, interfering with posting on said blog. But it is not working, the resisting.
I am happy that I have a blog. I see myself someday, cozy and secure in my downtown apartment, nestled in my overstuffed armchair with a cup of tea and my laptop, reading through the amusing and childish antics of my past. (SPOILER- here is where it gets... odd) I will be confident and secure in my life- all aspects of my life. I will have a beautiful career working at an urban elementary school. I will have a social life and a social love. He will be (everything) that I want him to be. I will be involved in the community and feel each day like I had a hand in change. I will understand myself better. I will be looking at graduate schools. I will ...finally... be on track spiritually. I will be taking care of my little brother attending school in my city. I will be saying and thinking and doing a lot of things. Hopefully.
What I am getting at... life changes. A lot.
On October something-or-other, a girl in my apartment complex reported that she had been raped. By a stranger. Wearing a mask. In her apartment. In the middle of the day.
My world fell apart. I know that there are a lot of other life events that can (and will) happen to disrupt my life in a more significant way, but this felt big. Correction- it was big. It literally changed the way I see the world. I felt victimized and afraid and angry.
Yesterday I, we, everyone, found out that it was not true. It was a false claim. It was a fabrication.
So again I will say...
My world fell apart. I know that there are a lot of other life events that can (and will) happen to disrupt my life in a more significant way, but this felt big. Correction- it was big. It literally changed the way I see the world. I felt victimized and afraid and angry.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Explanations...
I feel the need to explain myself and this (fruitless) attempt at documenting life-stuff. It probably won't work. I will probably feel just as unknown and be no closer to... what is at the top of that pyramid? Self-actualization? I highly doubt that this blog will help me climb those stairs. But in the chance that my thoughts can become words, and my words expression, and my expression meaningful to anyone but myself- here I go.
So- the title of my blog is Bread and Roses. I stole this from a Judy Collins song, based on a poem by James Oppenheim. It was published in 1911, and is associated with a workers strike in Massachusetts. What in the world does this have to do with my life?
Here are the lyrics:
As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!
As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.
As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.
As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.
Get it now? I am filled with a passion to live this calling. Whether by a career choice or a community organization or a ministry experience or a familial role, I want to succeed at living a life for others. I want to give in a way that helps the concrete, the physical- but the spirit as well.
So- the title of my blog is Bread and Roses. I stole this from a Judy Collins song, based on a poem by James Oppenheim. It was published in 1911, and is associated with a workers strike in Massachusetts. What in the world does this have to do with my life?
Here are the lyrics:
As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!
As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.
As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.
As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.
Get it now? I am filled with a passion to live this calling. Whether by a career choice or a community organization or a ministry experience or a familial role, I want to succeed at living a life for others. I want to give in a way that helps the concrete, the physical- but the spirit as well.
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