surgery society

organized
green stripes zoom faithfully
down the side of the
upholstery and
mother mary prays solemnly in the corner

used to be i could see her
through the mirror in the living room from my bed
but i moved it to check my
reflection and i can't get it back.

my company tonight is
the sound of cars on the street,
faint hum of refrigerator,
empty rocking chair and clouded glass from dinner

still.
alone.

heartsong, the boy wrote
when you are quiet you can hear it
and it is the most beautiful thing in the world.
i'm as afraid of hearing it
as the world is afraid of beauty
it means your heart opens
and we are a surgery society, prefer
masked doctors in
blue drapes with knives and precision
safe.
prefer
stacks of magazines and 2for$5 and strewn keys
if we know what lies within we think we know what lies within
monsters
but maybe they guard
the light or maybe they keep it
captive like a princess with her bird in a story who cries and they
wait, wait, between the gray stones and dry light
and maybe the darkness stifles
or maybe it drives away the wobbly-kneed, the ill-intended, the dark hearts that
recognize itself and flee
darkness, the unaware watchdog
thinking itself wild but submitting to its master
nothing but the shadow, reliant on the light
hiding in the creases for the distracted wanderer

the fairy tales are wonderful as a child
but when we get old we discard them
maybe we laugh because we're afraid
of what?
that they are false, or that they are true?

so my fingers keep moving
tap, tap, tap, tap
it's at the door, you know
and i'm just stalling for time.

welcome to existence

(the following was written on 5.30.09)

year four.
to enter a child, to leave a woman.
to enter with hopes and leave with direction
to be equipped with memories and education and empowerment and aspiration
and go.

i remember moments when my life was totally full, and i want to make more of those
even moments when i'm on my fifth shot of espresso on the floor of the library typing out papers - that feeling of productivity, hard work, self-fulfillment of potential.
working out at the afc with ana rose, laughing as we figure out how to work the weight equipment as guys with biceps bigger than my head mill around wondering what a girl's doing in the weight room
lunches. with declan, kevin, kate, erin, elyse.
breakfast with ross - cantalope and oatmeal and tons of fruit, microwaved together on cold mornings when we walked 30 minutes to class.
ridiculous dances with elyse in the dining room - i definitely want more of those.
making butterbeer
the b16 society
rooftops
ross in the living room, playing his song on the piano, singing to me in his pleasant deep voice
stargazing
weekend morning hikes through the blue ridge mountains
picnics in the gardens
studying on the bay windowsills of cabell as the light pours in
csm, fireside, ignite, tuesday supper, small group
teaching guys how to salsa, and be gentlemen
hiking the white mountains of new hampshire
breaking into the chem building with ross to watch LOST on the big screen
adoration in honduras
getting lost in the dominican republic, and having to serve as the ONLY translator for 5 college kids, a priest, and a drama professor. and still getting us from the capital to the haitian border!
showering in the first rain of the wet season
the way the light turned white in the blinds of the room, i remember how that saved me

moments.

driving back to charlottesville yesterday, thinking. what does it mean to be happy, how do you become happy?

i think that happiness comes from inside of you, but joy comes from outside of you. and you need - both. karl barth wrote that relying just on human choice is the antichrist, that we must rely purely on the descending power of God. he intended to attack Catholic sacraments as putting too much power in the hands of men. but interestingly, before he died, Barth came back to the problem, and made a third option - analogia relationis - the analogy of relation - which requires divine power AND human response - a relationship.

in order to live fully and joyfully, we must accept God's plan and respond to it.

i feel as though i have been happy, but my heart has no memory of joy. perhaps my heart simply learned to have a short memory, in order to survive (when i was in 2nd or 3rd grade i remember my teacher telling us that we should let go of the past. and i remember thinking, 'what if someone you love is only in the past? if she was wiser she would know that we have to love the past just as much as the present, and just as much as the future.')

but now i forget, and i'm not sure why. elyse says that God provides consolation to those who need it, who aren't strong enough, but it's the true strong ones who must endure without feelings of being loved or feeling joy, so that they can grow through their suffering.

next year i am fostering friendships. i am loving myself, my life, and understanding that i possess power to change the world around me - like the story, where the master gives the servant money and then leaves. it's up to him, and him alone, to do what he wills with his gift.

maybe my problem has been that i've wanted God to keep holding my hand - i've always been a little bit of a child, because it was my childself that knows and loves mom, and understands why she had to go. it's my adultself that is black, bitter, furious. so i keep the child alive. i know she makes me a bit naiive, a bit too trusting, a bit too idealist. but i love her and i refuse to put her in the past. maybe it's her heart, not my own, that will be simple enough, pure enough, big enough, to save me in the end.


there is something more to say, but it is hidden.