Once upon a time
There was an older girl who spent most of her time thinking, first in her mind and then with her hands. And when she thought long enough about something, she wrote it to others, or made it into photos and videos and shared it with others. When she spoke it out loud, she showed what she meant with her hands, so they could understand better what she was trying to give. She shared a lot, all the time, but she still felt selfish, no matter how much she shared. It seemed that every time she looked out her window she saw another face, another story that should be told, that she wasn't sharing. Or she talked with friends who knew how to share without thinking so much.
And she decided that was her problem. But she also remembered there was an answer. Once upon a time, God decided to share part of His story with humans, to even create them in the first place to be in a story with Him. And He shared freely, and didn't hold back. But the older girl spent so much of her time holding back, she didn't know how to stop. So she had to ask God, over and over, how to share with the same openness He did. It was a funny case of opposites, she often thought - the more she shared, the more she had left to share. But the more she held back, the more slipped out of her fingers and mind.
So she learned, surely but slowly, how to let go of what was not hers to keep. Time, space, freedom. And she also learned to hold on to what was hers - trust, faith, and friends. And her hands grew more graceful along the way....
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Once upon a time...
There was a little girl who lived in the Mediterranean. Most mornings she woke up, ate her breakfast, and had schoolwork to do... but *some* special mornings she didn't. On those days she woke up to hear her Papa calling up the stairs, "Everybody wake up -we're going on an ADVENTURE!" And then her mouth would put on the biggest grin it could hold, and she would climb down the ladder from her bunkbed. Sometimes she jumped on her sister's bed to wake her up (her sister liked to sleep in) and sometimes she helped pull her baby brother out of his crib (he was little but fat).... but she almost always started singing, because singing is what you do when you are happy in the mornings. She also ate, because eating is very important, at almost every time of the day. Sometimes she asked with a mouthful of cereal about the adventure, and her Mama would tell her not to talk with her mouth full. But then her Mama would give her a hug, and some fresh orange juice, and no one would be upset. And sometimes her Papa would say, "We're going to the mountains!" and sometimes he would say, "We're going to the beach!" and sometimes- these were fun times- he would say, "You'll just have to wait and see!"
After she was done with breakfast, the little girl got ready for the adventure. If her Papa had said "Beach!" she wore her swimsuit, but if he had said "Mountains!" she wore her tshirt and jeans and sneakers. But no matter where he said, she alway packed a water bottle, a snack, and a book in her small backpack, because her Mama said that is what you take on adventure. Then she would climb into the van with her brothers and sister in the early morning and start up the winding roads. Sometimes she felt sick, because the roads were very, very twisty, but her mom told her, "Roll down your window, sweet-pea," and so she did. Then the cool, fresh breeze would rush down through the pines and into the van and ruffle her hair. And the little girl would stick her face out the window as far as she could and take deep, deep breaths. If she went swimming at the beach, she let her hair loose on the way home, and it blew dry as they zoomed back to their little city.
The little girl loved the beach, and the soft warm water, and all the shells hidden in the sand. And she loved the mountains, and the tall singing trees, and all the flowers hiding between the rocks. But when she grew up, and friends asked her which one was her favourite, she didn't know, until she remembered one of the best adventure days ever. That day, her Papa woke them up early, and they went to the beach, and played in the morning sand. And then, just as they went home and thought the fun was over, her Papa made them pack their bags again, and they went to the mountains too! And it was so cold there was even snow on the mountains, and her little sister didn't even want to get out of the van. "It's an adventure," the little girl said, and brought her a snowball. When the family was finally tired of playing in the snow, they went back down the mountain to their house. And the little girl found bits of snow and bits of sand in her backpack, and was very happy. And she decided that one day when she was big and got married, she would also take her children on adventures to the beach, and to the mountains, and sometimes even to *both*, because it's fun to mix opposites and surprise people.
The End.
There was a little girl who lived in the Mediterranean. Most mornings she woke up, ate her breakfast, and had schoolwork to do... but *some* special mornings she didn't. On those days she woke up to hear her Papa calling up the stairs, "Everybody wake up -we're going on an ADVENTURE!" And then her mouth would put on the biggest grin it could hold, and she would climb down the ladder from her bunkbed. Sometimes she jumped on her sister's bed to wake her up (her sister liked to sleep in) and sometimes she helped pull her baby brother out of his crib (he was little but fat).... but she almost always started singing, because singing is what you do when you are happy in the mornings. She also ate, because eating is very important, at almost every time of the day. Sometimes she asked with a mouthful of cereal about the adventure, and her Mama would tell her not to talk with her mouth full. But then her Mama would give her a hug, and some fresh orange juice, and no one would be upset. And sometimes her Papa would say, "We're going to the mountains!" and sometimes he would say, "We're going to the beach!" and sometimes- these were fun times- he would say, "You'll just have to wait and see!"
After she was done with breakfast, the little girl got ready for the adventure. If her Papa had said "Beach!" she wore her swimsuit, but if he had said "Mountains!" she wore her tshirt and jeans and sneakers. But no matter where he said, she alway packed a water bottle, a snack, and a book in her small backpack, because her Mama said that is what you take on adventure. Then she would climb into the van with her brothers and sister in the early morning and start up the winding roads. Sometimes she felt sick, because the roads were very, very twisty, but her mom told her, "Roll down your window, sweet-pea," and so she did. Then the cool, fresh breeze would rush down through the pines and into the van and ruffle her hair. And the little girl would stick her face out the window as far as she could and take deep, deep breaths. If she went swimming at the beach, she let her hair loose on the way home, and it blew dry as they zoomed back to their little city.
The little girl loved the beach, and the soft warm water, and all the shells hidden in the sand. And she loved the mountains, and the tall singing trees, and all the flowers hiding between the rocks. But when she grew up, and friends asked her which one was her favourite, she didn't know, until she remembered one of the best adventure days ever. That day, her Papa woke them up early, and they went to the beach, and played in the morning sand. And then, just as they went home and thought the fun was over, her Papa made them pack their bags again, and they went to the mountains too! And it was so cold there was even snow on the mountains, and her little sister didn't even want to get out of the van. "It's an adventure," the little girl said, and brought her a snowball. When the family was finally tired of playing in the snow, they went back down the mountain to their house. And the little girl found bits of snow and bits of sand in her backpack, and was very happy. And she decided that one day when she was big and got married, she would also take her children on adventures to the beach, and to the mountains, and sometimes even to *both*, because it's fun to mix opposites and surprise people.
The End.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Anything new in your hand today?
Anything old
That could be regiven
Or for me retold?
All you need is the quiet
When I need the sound
Of your voice but it says
You just want me around
And the rift grows in my mind
Till you're here, I'm half gone
Cause I feel we're drifiting
When we don't row on
You're all fine
As I worry I'm losing you
As I sigh and pause
You say don't refuse
With no cause
When I go sad
And the silences fill
You reach out
And I find I'm found
Long enough to be still
Anything old
That could be regiven
Or for me retold?
All you need is the quiet
When I need the sound
Of your voice but it says
You just want me around
And the rift grows in my mind
Till you're here, I'm half gone
Cause I feel we're drifiting
When we don't row on
You're all fine
As I worry I'm losing you
As I sigh and pause
You say don't refuse
With no cause
When I go sad
And the silences fill
You reach out
And I find I'm found
Long enough to be still
Sunday, September 06, 2009
When it's okay to be sad
Once upon a time there was a very grown-up girl. And as she grew up to get there, she realised along the way that she didn't feel what most people did when they felt it. So she decided to start telling herself what she felt.
"This is not a good time to be sad," she might tell herself in the morning, looking out at snow. "This is a good time to be sad," she might tell herself, lying in her bed at night, realising there would be more snow and more grown-up decisions in the morning. "This is a good time to be happy," she might tell herself in the evening, surrounded by too many people who were having fun. "This is also a good time to be happy," she might tell herself in the afternoon, when she was standing on her balconey and looking at her new city.
And because she was such a grown-up girl, most of the time she obeyed what she told herself. She even started reminding herself what she decided- she had a sun-face towel that she would turn right-side-up on happy days and up-side-down on sad days. (Sometimes she decided to change partway through the day, and would turn her towel around. She wondered if anyone ever noticed.)
Sometimes she didn't have to decide anything about emotions at all- she *knew*. And she especially liked spending time with the friends that helped her *know* how she felt. She didn't need to decide anything- she just was sad or happy and it was okay with them. And she had other friends that she also loved... but she rarely knew how to feel around them. She had to decide how to feel when they said things, when they did things, even just when they walked into the room. When she spent time with them she felt like switching the towel face every ten minutes.
One day she realised that life was settling down. She no longer switched the towel back and forth so much, not even in her mind. If she could find a way in-between happy and sad to hang her towel, she would. Since she couldn't, she started leaving it face-up more. And she spent less time deciding how she should feel... and more time just living. And that meant that she felt sad more, because she spent less time being carefully not-sad.
But she felt sad less, because she had more time to feel happy.
And she was happy about that.
Once upon a time there was a very grown-up girl. And as she grew up to get there, she realised along the way that she didn't feel what most people did when they felt it. So she decided to start telling herself what she felt.
"This is not a good time to be sad," she might tell herself in the morning, looking out at snow. "This is a good time to be sad," she might tell herself, lying in her bed at night, realising there would be more snow and more grown-up decisions in the morning. "This is a good time to be happy," she might tell herself in the evening, surrounded by too many people who were having fun. "This is also a good time to be happy," she might tell herself in the afternoon, when she was standing on her balconey and looking at her new city.
And because she was such a grown-up girl, most of the time she obeyed what she told herself. She even started reminding herself what she decided- she had a sun-face towel that she would turn right-side-up on happy days and up-side-down on sad days. (Sometimes she decided to change partway through the day, and would turn her towel around. She wondered if anyone ever noticed.)
Sometimes she didn't have to decide anything about emotions at all- she *knew*. And she especially liked spending time with the friends that helped her *know* how she felt. She didn't need to decide anything- she just was sad or happy and it was okay with them. And she had other friends that she also loved... but she rarely knew how to feel around them. She had to decide how to feel when they said things, when they did things, even just when they walked into the room. When she spent time with them she felt like switching the towel face every ten minutes.
One day she realised that life was settling down. She no longer switched the towel back and forth so much, not even in her mind. If she could find a way in-between happy and sad to hang her towel, she would. Since she couldn't, she started leaving it face-up more. And she spent less time deciding how she should feel... and more time just living. And that meant that she felt sad more, because she spent less time being carefully not-sad.
But she felt sad less, because she had more time to feel happy.
And she was happy about that.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Once upon a time...
There was there was a teenager who wanted to move away from home.
Because she was tired of where she lived, because she felt caged in by sameness.
Because every time she moved, the picture of 'home' in her mind changed
The collage of that word kept growing every few years
When she was four, 'home' was a little crayon drawing in her little mind
A tin roof... wooden walls... a long porch
With little squares around the sides to mark where one Grandma's house white house was and where the other Grandma's red house was.
Over the years, more papers got stapled next to the first drawing
A square boxy white house smudged in chalk
A watercolour of a long cream house hugged by poplars and grape vines and flowers.
A coloured pencil sketch of a sprawling lodge in the woods
The teenager was still waiting in that lodge when the word came she was moving again with her family
She could barely believe it
And she wondered very hard what her new home would look like
When she arrived, it was a whole new kind
She wanted to add it to the collage.
But she had left some of her art kits behind at each other home
So she stood in the back yard grass, and looked at it
And she stood on the front sidewalk, and looked at it
And she even looked at it from above, in satellite image on her parents' computer
And she didn't know how to put it on paper
Until she found a small camera at the store
And took a photo of her new home
From the red tiled roof to the breezy living room to the friendly neighbor houses leaning next to it.
And she printed out the photo and stapled it next to all her other homes
And then she took another photo
Of all her homes stapled together
And she hung that photo as a poster in every house she ever lived in after that.
The End
There was there was a teenager who wanted to move away from home.
Because she was tired of where she lived, because she felt caged in by sameness.
Because every time she moved, the picture of 'home' in her mind changed
The collage of that word kept growing every few years
When she was four, 'home' was a little crayon drawing in her little mind
A tin roof... wooden walls... a long porch
With little squares around the sides to mark where one Grandma's house white house was and where the other Grandma's red house was.
Over the years, more papers got stapled next to the first drawing
A square boxy white house smudged in chalk
A watercolour of a long cream house hugged by poplars and grape vines and flowers.
A coloured pencil sketch of a sprawling lodge in the woods
The teenager was still waiting in that lodge when the word came she was moving again with her family
She could barely believe it
And she wondered very hard what her new home would look like
When she arrived, it was a whole new kind
She wanted to add it to the collage.
But she had left some of her art kits behind at each other home
So she stood in the back yard grass, and looked at it
And she stood on the front sidewalk, and looked at it
And she even looked at it from above, in satellite image on her parents' computer
And she didn't know how to put it on paper
Until she found a small camera at the store
And took a photo of her new home
From the red tiled roof to the breezy living room to the friendly neighbor houses leaning next to it.
And she printed out the photo and stapled it next to all her other homes
And then she took another photo
Of all her homes stapled together
And she hung that photo as a poster in every house she ever lived in after that.
The End
Once upon a time...
There was a preschooler who woke up too early
When she looked over, her door was not shut any more.
She heard someone on the stairs, and decided that the door had creaked open as they passed
So she sleepily sat up, pushed the door shut, and lay down again
She shut her eyes
But she always slept on her stomach, so she pulled her comforter up and rolled over
Then she heard a small noise
When she opened her eyes, her friend was suddenly, surprisingly standing just a foot away
And the poor preschooler gave a huge startle
And her friend laughed and laughed
And put down a big mug full of frothy coffee so it wouldn't spill while she was laughing at the poor preschooler
And she said, "haha! i'm sorry! haha! i just wanted to bring you coffee in bed! haha! go back to sleep! haha!"
So the preschooler woke up all the way, and laughed too
And drank her coffee
And decided it hadn't been to early to wake up, after all
There was a preschooler who woke up too early
When she looked over, her door was not shut any more.
She heard someone on the stairs, and decided that the door had creaked open as they passed
So she sleepily sat up, pushed the door shut, and lay down again
She shut her eyes
But she always slept on her stomach, so she pulled her comforter up and rolled over
Then she heard a small noise
When she opened her eyes, her friend was suddenly, surprisingly standing just a foot away
And the poor preschooler gave a huge startle
And her friend laughed and laughed
And put down a big mug full of frothy coffee so it wouldn't spill while she was laughing at the poor preschooler
And she said, "haha! i'm sorry! haha! i just wanted to bring you coffee in bed! haha! go back to sleep! haha!"
So the preschooler woke up all the way, and laughed too
And drank her coffee
And decided it hadn't been to early to wake up, after all
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