the oyster me
is faintly beating
a soft thing within that
a single moment could puncture
a fragile thing
full of fleshy, dependent life
it rises and falls with simple trust
in the center of its weighty shell
8 months ago
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
i like contacts because...
when it rains, i dont have to constantly wipe them off to be able to see.
when i'm snuggling, they don't poke my husband in the eye.
when i'm putting my hair up, the dont get tangled in my pony tail.
when im playing around on the computer at school, my students cant see the reflection of the computer screen in them and catch me in the act.
when i'm working out, i dont have to reach around them to mop the sweat off my brow.
when i open the dishwasher to unload the dishes, they dont fog up.
when they slide down my face...oh wait, they dont slide down my face.
when the sun is beating down on me in the summer, i can wear sunglasses to defy its obnoxiousness.
when you look into my eyes, you can actually see what color they are.
when i look up, i can see the whole picture around me rather than two square-shaped pieces of it.
why do i miss glasses?
ive always worn them.
my husband thinks they're cute.
i feel intellectual.
i can hide behind them.
they dont make my eyes dry out.
they take less time.
mostly, my husband thinks they're cute and i like it when he thinks im cute.
when i'm snuggling, they don't poke my husband in the eye.
when i'm putting my hair up, the dont get tangled in my pony tail.
when im playing around on the computer at school, my students cant see the reflection of the computer screen in them and catch me in the act.
when i'm working out, i dont have to reach around them to mop the sweat off my brow.
when i open the dishwasher to unload the dishes, they dont fog up.
when they slide down my face...oh wait, they dont slide down my face.
when the sun is beating down on me in the summer, i can wear sunglasses to defy its obnoxiousness.
when you look into my eyes, you can actually see what color they are.
when i look up, i can see the whole picture around me rather than two square-shaped pieces of it.
why do i miss glasses?
ive always worn them.
my husband thinks they're cute.
i feel intellectual.
i can hide behind them.
they dont make my eyes dry out.
they take less time.
mostly, my husband thinks they're cute and i like it when he thinks im cute.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
being an adult is blurry and smells like propane
i felt very grown up yesterday while i was getting gas in my car. it was such an automatic move--pulling up, getting out, swiping my card and starting to pump. i remember when it didnt use to be so automatic. every move was very calculated and i felt like everyone was watching me. now it's just a fact of life. one more thing between me and home at the end of the day.
maybe this time was different because i was wearing contacts. pumping gas in contacts for the first time--exciting stuff, eh? but really--maybe all this "grown-up" stuff started there. i made that decision, to try contacts. i got an appointment; i talked to my doctor; i set up the process; i paid the bill. last time i thought about contacts was when my mom asked if i was interested because she was making my next eye appointment. that must have been when i was in college.
it felt strange--and kind of frightening--to make a big decision like that (it feels like a big decision to me, anyway...it involves money and a real life change for someone who has worn glasses since she was a pre-teen). it also got me thinking about why it was such an unusual feeling. does that mean that i dont make very many big decisions for myself? in truth, when the idea popped up, i wanted mikey to tell me whether or not i should do it. i rely on others' opinions about my decisions a lot. perhaps that's the clincher: this is a decision that i am making for specific reasons and i am doing it without input from anyone. is that what being an adult really is? not all the time, i hope. i like to think that life and living it are primarily about community--not the individual.
i'm busy being a grown up these days: molding the minds of children who ive been with all year and will lose in few days to the eleventh grade (it's a real loss, let me tell you; being a junior warps you into an entirely new entity). writing tests and being a staff adviser and signing a contract to work next school year. over the past several weeks, i have felt my heart filling up with things to write, but every time i sit in front of the screen or pick up a pen and open my journal, my voice is silent, my tongue listless (i just looked up "listless" on dictionary.com and it means "spiritless"...what a perfect synonym. why didnt i think of that one?). there doesnt seem to be an existing vocabulary for the things i want to say.
i looked for a cello today at a music store in winston. i have been wanting to play for a while and with our tax return, we suddenly have the means to make that happen. i am excited by the prospect of giving a real voice to the music inside me--a voice not dependent on any kind of accompaniment but only harmony between my bow and fingers. i am stuck now between visions of learning with ease and pictures of a frustrated me throwing down my bow in disgust. i guess we'll figure out which it is soon enough.
well, my eyes are dry and tired and for some reason, my head is banging.
perhaps it's all the first person shooter going on next to me.
maybe this time was different because i was wearing contacts. pumping gas in contacts for the first time--exciting stuff, eh? but really--maybe all this "grown-up" stuff started there. i made that decision, to try contacts. i got an appointment; i talked to my doctor; i set up the process; i paid the bill. last time i thought about contacts was when my mom asked if i was interested because she was making my next eye appointment. that must have been when i was in college.
it felt strange--and kind of frightening--to make a big decision like that (it feels like a big decision to me, anyway...it involves money and a real life change for someone who has worn glasses since she was a pre-teen). it also got me thinking about why it was such an unusual feeling. does that mean that i dont make very many big decisions for myself? in truth, when the idea popped up, i wanted mikey to tell me whether or not i should do it. i rely on others' opinions about my decisions a lot. perhaps that's the clincher: this is a decision that i am making for specific reasons and i am doing it without input from anyone. is that what being an adult really is? not all the time, i hope. i like to think that life and living it are primarily about community--not the individual.
i'm busy being a grown up these days: molding the minds of children who ive been with all year and will lose in few days to the eleventh grade (it's a real loss, let me tell you; being a junior warps you into an entirely new entity). writing tests and being a staff adviser and signing a contract to work next school year. over the past several weeks, i have felt my heart filling up with things to write, but every time i sit in front of the screen or pick up a pen and open my journal, my voice is silent, my tongue listless (i just looked up "listless" on dictionary.com and it means "spiritless"...what a perfect synonym. why didnt i think of that one?). there doesnt seem to be an existing vocabulary for the things i want to say.
i looked for a cello today at a music store in winston. i have been wanting to play for a while and with our tax return, we suddenly have the means to make that happen. i am excited by the prospect of giving a real voice to the music inside me--a voice not dependent on any kind of accompaniment but only harmony between my bow and fingers. i am stuck now between visions of learning with ease and pictures of a frustrated me throwing down my bow in disgust. i guess we'll figure out which it is soon enough.
well, my eyes are dry and tired and for some reason, my head is banging.
perhaps it's all the first person shooter going on next to me.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
image
naked.
that's how i imagine heaven.
in heaven, i am completely naked (please refrain from imagining this. if you must be imaginative, imaginatify yourself naked).
it's interesting that in the Bible, when it talks about the garden of eden (you know...where everything was perfect and in its rightful place, functioning as it was intended and being all harmonious and stuff), it is specifically mentioned that they were naked and weren't ashamed. now, all the pictures ive ever seen of adam and eve involve dainty features, smooth skin, chiseled abs and proportionate features. in short: they are perfect specimens of the species...what would they have had to be ashamed of??? and yet, when the whole sin thing goes down, suddenly, they are self-conscious and cover themselves up. thus, the concept of nakedness. they didn't call it nakedness before that. they probably called it....oh, i don't know...BE-ING? perfectly natural, right? hey, remember: garden of eden=harmony/functioning as intended/perfection etc.
i feel pretty comfortable when i'm naked. in fact, on those really bad days when i cant even stand the FEEL of me, my safe place is unclothed and hiding somewhere, like under the covers or the bath tub. sometimes it feels like my clothes are just reminding me that there are unsightly things about me. when i am out of those defining boundaries, i feel more free. less painfully aware of my everything. in general, just less aware of myself and more aware of what is around me instead.
i started writing on my mirrors a while back. this was so that when i looked at that reflective surface, i could see something else other than my blemishes and stubborn hair and fat rolls. the goal is to actually put words there that act as a buffer between me and my image--scripture or other meditative thoughts that can filter the way i see myself. most of the time it works, but i have also found other ways to be aware of my body that bypass the whole mirror thing, and i still find myself consumed by image. sometimes i can even look at my mirror and not even notice the dry-erase letters right in front of me...as if they weren't even there.
that's how i imagine heaven.
in heaven, i am completely naked (please refrain from imagining this. if you must be imaginative, imaginatify yourself naked).
it's interesting that in the Bible, when it talks about the garden of eden (you know...where everything was perfect and in its rightful place, functioning as it was intended and being all harmonious and stuff), it is specifically mentioned that they were naked and weren't ashamed. now, all the pictures ive ever seen of adam and eve involve dainty features, smooth skin, chiseled abs and proportionate features. in short: they are perfect specimens of the species...what would they have had to be ashamed of??? and yet, when the whole sin thing goes down, suddenly, they are self-conscious and cover themselves up. thus, the concept of nakedness. they didn't call it nakedness before that. they probably called it....oh, i don't know...BE-ING? perfectly natural, right? hey, remember: garden of eden=harmony/functioning as intended/perfection etc.
i feel pretty comfortable when i'm naked. in fact, on those really bad days when i cant even stand the FEEL of me, my safe place is unclothed and hiding somewhere, like under the covers or the bath tub. sometimes it feels like my clothes are just reminding me that there are unsightly things about me. when i am out of those defining boundaries, i feel more free. less painfully aware of my everything. in general, just less aware of myself and more aware of what is around me instead.
i started writing on my mirrors a while back. this was so that when i looked at that reflective surface, i could see something else other than my blemishes and stubborn hair and fat rolls. the goal is to actually put words there that act as a buffer between me and my image--scripture or other meditative thoughts that can filter the way i see myself. most of the time it works, but i have also found other ways to be aware of my body that bypass the whole mirror thing, and i still find myself consumed by image. sometimes i can even look at my mirror and not even notice the dry-erase letters right in front of me...as if they weren't even there.
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