Truth and Meaning

It's been a while.
Blogging is good for the soul but there are times when even I...
yes I...
am so far deep in the muck that breathing is the only landscape.
Face down.
Planted.
Full length.
I guess it's better than 6 feet under looking up at the dirt... pushin daisies...
But some days I am not too sure.
This emotional... feeling... experiencing... life...
is at times beyond expression... and the pain is soul deep.
Inescapable.

What is the truth?
Where is the meaning?

Am reading a book.
Again.

"Searching For God Know's What " by Donald Miller, who is also the author of " Blue Like Jazz" and " To Own a Dragon". ( fantastic reads all around)

Among other things he talks about how we have reduced the bible to a Self Help Manual or a treatise on right and wrong. We have systematically created lists and systematically go about checking them off.

Really.
Just think about it.
God has somehow become like Santa... he's making a list and checkin it twice.
Naughty?
Nice?
Check your list of do's and don'ts for the day.
Do pray.
Don't yell at your kids.
Do go to church.
Don't steal.
Do honor your parents.
Don't kill.
Do... don't ... do... don't
They did.... ooops..naughty naughty...
I didn't... way to go.... two thumbs up....
They bad.
Me good.
Me right.
Them...wrong.

Check the list.
See?

What if you made a list of the physical features of your lover? Your parents? Your best friend?

Brown hair.
Green Eyes.
Slim build. Small feet.
Long Eyelashes.
Narrow waist.
Full lips.
High cheek bones.
Long legs.

What if you carried it around with you everywhere you went.

It is all true.

But has no meaning.

Separate from relationship.

Miller talks about how we have managed to separate truth from meaning.
What is the purpose of truth?
What is the purpose of the Bible?
What is the meaning of it all?
What are we missing?
What am I missing?
He goes on to speculate about what drives us and I think he hits the nail on the head.

We are desperate for something to give us meaning.
We search for it every second of the day.
We seek it out in our family, friends, co-workers, classmates.
Our religions.
We try to find it in our gifts, talents and percieved strengths.
We try to avoid it in our weaknesses and failings... obsessions and appetites.
We whisper it in the dark and scream it in the car on the way to church.
We wear it... read it... record it... watch it... advertise it.... hide it.... broadcast it
We collect it around the watercooler...
Gather it in our bank accounts.
Document it in our preformance reviews.

Someone tell me again who I am.

It's why we work so hard to make the rules... keep the rules or break the rules.

The problem is... it never lasts.

Human love...value... definitions... must be given over and over and over...
They are incapable of satisfying.

Think about it.

Telling someone you love them once is never enough.
Hugging someone.
Praising someone.
Encouraging someone.
Sexual satisfaction.
Emotional satisfaction.
Physical satisfaction.

These are vessels that constantly need topping up.

Why?

Can it be as Miller puts it that we need to look through the truth to find the meaning?

Was this what was lost in Eden?

Were we separated from what gave us meaning?

Are we so deep into self-help...self-worth...self-esteem... that we can't get it?

a painting does not give itself worth.
a pottery urn doesn't assign itself value.
a crystal vase does not fill itself.
a rare orchid cannot give itself it's rare status.
a diamond has no capacity to define itself.

A husband is incapable of bringing meaning to his wife.
A child has no power to establish worth to its parents.
A father is powerless to bestow value on his children.

I cannot give myself meaning.
Thus....
I cannot deprive myself of worth or value if I cannot bestow it in the first place.

So.

If I cannot give it.
I cannot take it away.

I am not a list.

What if it is all about relationship?
All of it.
What if it is all about restored realtionship?
What was lost.
Is lost no longer.

What if God.
Who gives all things meaning.
With intent.
Has always.
Eternally.
Been about.
This.

Love.

Meaning.

Us.
HIM.

Together.

No wonder when Paul wrote the " Love chapter" in his letter to the Corinthians of the day, he said it was possible to understand all mysteries and have all knowledge.... and be without love.... and it was all nothing!

Getting it right and knowing true things was not what it was all about.
Truth without meaning reduces everthing to a list.

You have to look through the truth to the meaning behind it.

What am I searching for?

Someone to tell me who I am.
Cause I can't.
Neither can my husband, my children, my family, my friends, my enemies...
No one.

It is only the One who made me that has the power to explain me..to give me meaning.

God.

I pray a lot.

I have to.

It seems like my whole life has become a prayer.

It's not about self help.
It's not about fixing the messes.
It's not about understanding everything.

It's about meaning....

try it.

You just might find yourself for the first time.

Just As I Am

When is the last time your world blew up?
When is the last time your current reality...revealed itself as not so real after all?
When is the last time you looked in the mirror and saw beyond your own image?
When is the last time the STATUS QUO became a thing of fantasy?

This past week was one of those times.

There are many different levels that this type of upheaval can occur on in your life.
As a performance driven individual this type of chaos is avoided, feared and if the first two options are not possible, fixed immediately.

I have grown up doing the right thing.
Or trying to do the right thing.
As often as possible.
The goal is 100%
Not 90%.
The goal is: Do it.
Do it right.
Do it better.
Do it better with a good attitude.
Improve on it.
Do it again.
Failure is not making less than 5o%...
failure is not reaching your goal.

I grew up self assessing to the max.
Analyzing.
Inspecting.
Critiquing.
Cleaning out.
Building up.
Strengthening.
Educating.
Improving.
Doing it.
Right...
and righter still.
Proving to myself that I could.

Suck it up princess.
Shake it off.
Be strong.
Be stronger.
Get it right.
Be good.
You can.
Think positive.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
You know what to do.
Do it.

I didn't smoke.
I didn't drink.
I didn't sleep around.
I didn't cheat.
I didn't do drugs.
I didn't swear.
I didn't ..lots of things.

I hated school.
I aced my exams.
I excelled.
I was extremely shy.
I became popular.
I had no fashion sense.
No sense of style.
I faked it.
I liked being alone.
I hid in crowds.
I hated public speaking.
I became a great conversationalist.

I dreamed big.
I had nightmares.

I am 40.
Today I am surrounded by the rubble of disappointed hopes.
My mind echoes with the screams of avoided fears..
I am haunted by the consequences of delayed failure.

I stand amidst the ruins of choices.
I failed.

Now what?

Why do we fear failure so much?
Actually..not all failures...
There are many ways to fail acceptably.

My failure is not one of them.
I am not going to name my failure for all you who are salivating...
Suffice to say...it is mine...
You have yours.
If I trusted that my nakedness would spawn nakedness all around instead of a gossip fest then maybe I would scream my failure from the rooftop.
But I don't.
Most of us take reality in little convenient bite size pieces.
Calling ourselves raw...open..honest.
The truth is if we get truly honest and uncovered ...most of the time we shake up someone else's comfort zone..
Our nakedness requires something of everyone around us...
What do we do now?
What is required of me?
Is this going to cost me?

I don't like feeling obligated.

The truth is we are all OBLIGATED!

To each other.

To love.
To share.
To support.
To encourage.
To give.
To prefer the other.
To sacrifice.
To serve.

Because the truth is..if we can grasp it...

We are all dependent...
Interdependent.
When one is sick...
When one is hurting..
When one is lonely..
When one is abandoned..
When one is abused..
When one is naked..
When one is lacking...
When one is poor...

We are all...
SICK
HURTING
LONELY
ABANDONED
ABUSED
NAKED
LACKING
POOR

This week...

I sit surrounded by a need.
Failure covers the landscape.
Abject poverty of spirit swells like a tsunami.

This is who I am.
This is my reality.
This is where faith begins.
This is where trust flourishes.
Just as I am.
God comes to my worst .... not my best.
He saves....
He defeats the Giant.
I realized this week that in the old story of David and Goliath, when David ran towards Goliath,
he wasn't seeing a Giant... He was running towards his God....the giant was God's to bring down.

We all have our personal giants..specifically tailored to our fears, weaknesses, hungers, desires, hopes and dreams.
At the place of our greatest failures is the potential for the greatest success.
We cannot defeat ourselves.
We come.
Just as we are.
Children.
Broken.
Wrong.
Afraid.
Undone.

Trusting that God is bigger.
Than our failures.
Than our giants.
Than our assessments.
Than our successes.

Here I am.
Miracles come.
When they are needed.
When they are believed in.

In the midst of my ruins today.
I believe.
I take courage.
I run forward...towards the one...
Just as I am..

He is everything I need.
He takes me as I am.
Just as I am.

Take courage.
I am.
He never fails the failed.

Life..or something like it...

Waiting.
How much of our lives is spent waiting?

waiting for answers to questions...
for the next meal...
the next drink...
for morning...
for the day to end..
for the weekend to begin...
for the all important proposal...
the first contraction that signals the beginning of labor...
for payday...
for summer holidays..
for the good news..
the bad news...
any news...

waiting.

For a sign.
For a sound.
For something.

Not yet.

But soon.

I hate the word soon!

Today...is pregnant with anticipation.
I am awaiting on impending news... a sign... an answer... a promise..
Some of these things are accompanied by pain... grief...suffering and sorrow...
Others by sacrifice...and discipline, effort and resolve...
And another by peace..comfort..joy and hope.

Just waiting.

I think I have been waiting all my life.
Knowing that there is no arriving... while I draw breath.
The journey of life is as important as the destination...
The destination is within us...
Conceived by the very presence of the ONE..
Who outside of time and space...
Inhabits.
Us.
Dwells...
Within.
Us.
Fully.

This is life.
To know Him.
As I am known.
To be in Him.
As He is in me.

Life.

Or something like it....

Wrapped in a blanket...
Struggling to keep warm, I fight back the tears that threaten to spill over.
Following is so much more than just believing.
Today I follow ...
And the trail leads to a grave...
A barren wasteland...
A dark cave... in a storm.
A precipice...
a desert...

These are not destinations...
but steps on a journey...
The destination is not a place...
but a state of being...

Do I believe in life after love?
Didn't Cher sing that line?

No.
I don't.
Life is LOVE.
LOVE is life.

Today, as tears flow...and my heart fails me,
As my eyes pierce the horizon, waiting for redemption..
for a response...
for a rescue...
for an explanation...
a revelation...
a resurrection...

I find myself... acknowledging my limitations..my ignorance,
My finite imagination.

So... I wait.
Anticipating... that the response is... near.
Life.. or something like it...is happening all around me.
Tonight..a lunar eclipse..where the shadow of the earth covers the light of the moon.
A satellite..falls from the sky...
A life lingers on the threshold...
A journey continues...on a blind curve...
Hearts break... and still beat...
Minds reason... and snap
Hands still... clenched in tormented helpless fists....resting on bruised chests.
We hold our breath...
And exhale...yet again...

Birth.
Death.
Success.
Failure.
Justice.
Oppression.
Hope.
Despair.

Life.
And yet not...life...

Today...
In all honesty...
I'll take...
I'd rather...
...something like it....

Just not..this...

A Love Story....

So my husband comes home yesterday from work and calls me into the den to view this website he heard about on CBC radio.
The website is www.booksbyyou.com.
Check it out if you dare.
The jist of it is that you have several different story synopsis to choose from. You enter your personal information: first and last name, eye color, hair color, body type ( wahoo! You can lie!) and the name of a close personal friend. You choose your hero and presto. One click and there you are star of your own cheesy romance novel.
On the radio they were touting this as a great valentines gift...for you and your lover.
You get to do a free sample online...so we did.
Oh my!
We howled!
I promptly called my good friend Cheryle...and busted a gut as she read back her raunchy personalized version.
Honestly..it has been a long while since I laughed til I cried.

What does this say...about us?

" Her silky satiny skin brushed up against him as she reached for her coffee cup...."
" His piercing blue eyes shot a lightening bolt through her..igniting the embers of desire."
" Her hand reached for the buttons.... "
As the commercial goes...
"That was easy!"

Has it come to this?
Welcome to the desert of the real...as they say in the Matrix.

Are we so scared of being invisible...and ordinary...and unimaginative..and insignificant..and uninteresting..and unlovely....unremarkable..unworthy...

What do we believe about ourselves that drives us to the great "American Romance Novel"?

I find it interesting that men fight the battle with pornography....
While us women go unremarked upon in our obsession with the Romance Novel.

We launch ourselves into impossible worlds with ..improbable heroines and heroes... clutching our bodices dramatically as we are taken against our will... we are ravished and fall madly in love with our ravishers...suffer seduction and surrender our virtues...all between laundry, carpooling and soccer practice.
We are stalked by killers and fall into bed with our rescuers in the suspense genre...shop til we drop on Rodeo Drive and are seduced by strangers in cafe's in the modern genre.. Taken captive by barbarians in the Medieval era...
All the while loathing our true selves...wrestling with cellulite, a rash of acne...the spare tire and muffin top bulging over our jeans...our breasts geographically challenged by childbirth or weight gain or genetics...only saved by technologically enhanced undergarments that are no support while lying flat on our backs on ill fitting cotton sheets of unremarkable thread counts.

Whether you were prom queen.. most sought after girl by the jocks...
Activist pursued by the environmentally conscious tree huggers...
Brain...admired for your intellectually stimulating conversations..
Car Jockey...dirty girl..covered in grease, riding with the bad boys...
Librarian...hidden behind your shy demeanor...shrouded in mystery undiscovered..
MVP of the varsity team... popular by association...
Goth girl...grunge girl...deep thoughtful contemplative girl...theatre girl..dance girl...artist girl
Or Plain-Jane...invisible girl...
...avoided or marginalized... elevated and praised...

We still seek to put ourselves in another story...to transplant ourselves...to reinvent ourselves...
As if we are not enough.

We fight our own sense of insignificance and inadequacy every day... we battle invisible demons.. wage wars against disembodied voices... mentally assault nameless enemies striding beside us on the sidewalk...or sitting next to us in the salon....the woman in the mirror brushing her teeth before bed.
We are still fighting.

Our screams echo around in our heads like something out of a horror flick.

And we escape.
Recreate.
Re-design.
Re-invent.

To survive.

There is another love story out there.
This one is real.
Worth the read.
It's not finished yet....
Several episodes left.

The funny thing is.
You really are the heroine.
There is a lover....
Whew...you couldn't make him up if you tried.
He is so not Hollywood.

It's a best seller.
This romance.
It's not in the back seat of a stretch limo...or a penthouse suite...
Or maybe it is...
Wherever you are there it is.
It's also in the alley under the El.
In the back room of the bar...
It's in the trailer park...the hotel room...the casino...the cabin... the condo
Its on the seashore...the mountain top...the ghetto...
The projects...the brothel... the refugee camp...the suburbs

She's wearing a burkah...goth clothing...army fatigues... a sari...an apron
Satin...wool...silk...cotton...furs...rags....
Shes naked.
Stiletto's...thigh highs... doc martins...platforms....bare feet....flip flops...
She's anorexic...obese...obsessive...addicted...successful...incarcerated...turning tricks... shooting up... bottoming out...suicidal...murderous...depressed... intellectually challenged...

She's you...she's me...
She's beloved.

Check out the story...it has rave reviews.
Nothing else comes close.
It's off the hook.
The author?
He's the Hero....
Check him out...
You won't be sorry.
Trade in the fantasy... for a little reality.
Forget COKE...this is THE REAL THING!
Today is Valentines Day....
Start looking through his rose colored glasses...
Start filtering through his camera lens...
Discover...
You are Loved....
You are enough...
You are MORE than enough...
You are the reason..the focus... the prize.

BE LOVED.
Beloved.

Happy Valentines Day to all you Beauties out there.