shouts of joy

Stitched up tight is how things should be.  Tenderly mended,  Even doubled-up over time for an extra strong stitch. Sometimes the strings come loose.  They rip out when there's a pull on the fabric. One side of the seam is pulled, while the other is yanked in an opposing direction.  This is when the stitching tears. The material shreds; the thread breaks.  Now there is neither material, nor thread. How can the stitches be replaced?  What will keep any material together now? I wonder if stitches can ever be remended.  Oh, what it would be like to have some stitches now! How much love we could hold in our pockets,  if they weren't ripped out.  We could hold the love,  and it would bind us closer. How close would we be bound?  I can imagine, one day, we will.

Blank space is so intimidating after a long stay in the un-blank. It's been a long time since an empty blog post stared me down. I know it's needed. I've been expecting it, But now it's as if there's this unspoken void, Like an acquaintance, our journeys are nothing similar. Yet, so complimentary, But I'd prefer to avoid those facts. It's like peeking into my old cave, Seeing some old, forgotten remnants, Feeling some long-lost emotion. The art - left on those once blank walls - is hardly recognizable, Such dark depictions, now a blur. So I meet with my acquaintance, Since we have so much in common. Then I'll clean out the blank space To create a place I need now. Next time we meet, I predict it will be peaceful.

The lists haven't changed a bit. They sprinkle my desk like a colorful doughnut, neon pinks, greens, and blues; a "To Do" list on several, a "To  Buy" list on others, a few quotes, and classroom codes and passwords.They cover my desk and remind me that I am perfectly organized and absolutely a big hot mess all in the same post-it note and at the beginning of a new year none the less. There is so much to celebrate here. I love to see the faces of new students and old students peek in my room from time to time and their laughter reminds me that our relationships are the most valuable. Reminding me of former students who have pieces of my heart, who have moved on, some I will see again and others I will not. The time and energy put into a life will always have a piece. The more the time, the bigger the piece, and so it will be. Let me remember this for as long as I teach, or work with people. It's been different this time, working with people that is. This ...

This morning I took a few friends to the airport before majority of our broken community awoke to finish up the week with a hustle and bustle as the Christmas holiday approaches. The past week has been hard on our Inland Empire community and it was so nice to see everything clean and peaceful after last nights rain. Because I was at the airport early to drop friends off I was ready for school early, too. I took my free time to my favorite coffee shop in Redlands and enjoyed the darkness of the morning with a hot drink and the regulars. On my way to school I drove past the home of the shooters from last Wednesday's mass shooting just blocks away from our school. The streets were wet and the wind had blown the bright leaves across lawns and sidewalks while people were sleeping. The streets were empty and houses and apartments still sleepy. It's so hard to believe that such horror could come from such a picturesque neighborhood, quiet, and innocent. The recent events and news cove...

I'm perplexed by the emotions that love brings. As a feeler of emotion, I feel each one, each feeling that love has shared with me including the feelings that I feel like I should feel, but don't. You know what I mean? I heard a sermon yesterday on the story of the Prodigal sons. Let me start by defining for you Prodigal. Prodigal: Profuse, wasteful, reckless expenditure of money or time So we look at the story of the prodigal sons. One took his money from his father and spent it profusely, wastefully, and recklessly. He left his father, milking his father of all his inheritance, without a care in the world. He expended his entire inheritance on what he thought would bring him joy, happiness, love. At the same time, the other brother stayed with his father obeying the commandments requiring him to do good, be good, obey, and respect in order to be grated an inheritance when the time has come. This brother was staying with the father in order to receive his fair share ...

It's Sunday and I've taken a short lunch break from researching and working on a couple of essays. I made my usual lunch meal - mixed herb salad, with slices of avocado, tomato, and bites of Morning Star's buffalo style chik patty. Sometimes it is accompanied with grapefruit from my favorite, San Jacinto Farms, and other times when there's nothing else in the fridge it stands solo. Today I took my break, fixed up my heaping salad and sat down at the couch to enjoy a few moments of not studying. A few minutes passed (probably only seconds but when you're brain is unwinding it feels like forever) and I found myself scrolling through my Instagram feed, moving to open the Facebook app and realized that this was not restful nor relaxing, instead I noticed that my eyes were feeling tired and dry and that I felt more exhausted and overwhelmed. So I put my phone down and sat in the silence and crunching of my salad. It didn't take long and I was on my phone again lookin...

It's easier to look back right now. I look back and see an open door full of opportunity, sorta like the one I see right now. But looking back it was easier then. The view isn't full of overwhelm, but it looks more like freedom. It was a beautiful frame of broken pieces being liberated. She didn't know that then. But now, looking back ... that was easy ... easier than what's ahead. People tell me that my anxiety about the future beyond next week is related to maturity, "When you're my age you'll see it differently." "It changes when you turn 30." "Don't worry, it gets better." (what?) Okay, so if you're right, if it is maturity, what am I suppose to do for the next four years? And shouldn't their be some kind of progress? And why does the idea of anything beyond the next couple of weeks make me want to run far away toward solace? If it is maturity, wouldn't you expect to see some "maturing" from age ...