Sunday, February 26, 2006

I have a soft spot for zealots, pt. 4

Okay, this is it, just in time for Ash Wednesday, the conclusion of my collection of random, lesser known comments from Paul. This exercise was explained here: http://spiral-scratch.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-have-soft-spot-for-zealots.html

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Do not rebuke an older man, but appeal to him as a father. Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters with complete purity.

Whoever does not provide for relatives and especially family members has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

Religion with contentment is a great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, just as we shall not be able to take anything out of it. If we have food and clothing, we shall be content with that. Those who want to be rich are falling into temptation and into a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires, which plunge them into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evils, and some people in their desire for it have strayed from the faith and have pierced themselves with many pains.

Tell the rich in the present age not to be proud and not to rely on so uncertain a thing as wealth but rather on God, who richly provides us with all things for our enjoyment. Tell them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous, ready to share, thus accumulating as treasure a good foundation for the future, so as to win the life that is true
life.

Avoid foolish and ignorant debates, for you know that they breed quarrels. A slave of the Lord should not quarrel, but should be gentle with everyone, able to teach, tolerant, correcting opponents with kindness.

The word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. No creature is concealed from him, but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account.

Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.

Endure your trials as discipline. At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it. So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated by healed.

Our God is a consuming fire.

Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.

Be mindful of prisoners as if sharing their imprisonment, and of the ill-treated as of yourselves, for you also are in the body.

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I think within the four selections, you'll find some surprising comments. I still have ambivalent feelings about the guy but I do admire anyone who'll go out on a limb for no apparent gain even if I disagree with what they say.

I'll try to do something a little different during Lent...and try to keep the surprises coming.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Lucca vs. the mouse

I'm still feeling pretty woozy these days. I was well enough on Thursday evening to drag my carcass to class but, god, it was great to get on the train to come back home and get back into bed.

Because of the flu, it has been a very unproductive week and I've gotten very little written or read. No deep thoughts to share. So, what do you do when you have nothing interesting to say? Why, post pictures of pets, of course!

Here is Lucca, mentioned in an earlier post (
http://spiral-scratch.blogspot.com/2006/02/lucca-again.html). He's now about twice the size he was since the earlier picture was posted three weeks ago. What you CAN'T see in this picture is a very long scar along his tummy.

Last weekend, he became very ill, throwing up everything he tried to eat. Several vets were consulted and it was determined that he had some kind of intestinal blockage. So, he was put under, surgery was performed and out came a two inch long stuffed mouse. Now, here is the weird part....my brother and sister-in-law don't recognize it and this dog has barely been out of the house and their backyard because he is not fully immunized. Where did it come from? Where did he find it? It's a mystery.

So, this is a picture of a recovering Lucca, minus the cone, and probably not one bit wiser. He's still a chewer, biter, and swallower although he is in the early stages of obedience training. The biggest problem my sister-in-law says has been trying to keep him still because he is so active he could easily pull his stitches out.

That's it for this morning...hopefully, my next entry will discuss greater mysteries than how Lucca found and swallowed a cat toy.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

I am sick and tired...

...of being sick and tired.

Flu is the worst, short of an illness that is actually life-threatening. But you feel like you're to die.

Oy, my head, the pain 24 hours a day for three days. I tried Advil, Aspirin, Tylenol (or the generic equivalents), decongestants, prescription headache medicine but nothing but a can of Diet Red Bull and a half of a ten year old tablet of Vicodin cleared my head enough that I could get out of bed, call my doctor, and make an appointment....where she said, basically, drink lots of fluids and get lots of sleep.

Gee, thanks very much. (I get sarcastic and cranky when I feel like death). I didn't really expect much help from the doctor for something like the flu but she did point out that I was very dehydrated which can turn a bad headache into one where you want to cut the damn thing off.

I think part of my headache was from caffeine withdrawal....you can't go from three cups a day to nothing for three days and not have your body complain, loudly. That's why I thought of trying the Red Bull...there was no way my stomach could take a real cup of coffee but luckily the carbonated caffeine was much easier to take.

The cramps and nausea...one moment I'm an iceberg, piling blankets on top of me and the next moment I have to take off all of my clothes...the erratic sleep and the mild hallucinations (me, the Rolling Stones living in a bed and breakfast in a treehouse? I'm just usually not that creative. Great furniture though).

When I can stop for a moment from rolling around in self-pity, it makes me realize how relatively healthy I have been, cold and flu-wise. I only get these bouts every five or six years so it is easy to forget what pure misery they are.

Ironically, at the beginning of the week, I actually had a lot stuff I wanted to write about but when you can't lift your head off the pillow, it's hard to think coherently enough to form sentences that anyone will be able to follow.

Hey, maybe those might make for more interesting blog entries than the ones I usually write. Let's raise a glass of ginger ale, eat some saltines and toast to good health.

Monday, February 20, 2006

I have a soft spot for zealots, pt. 3

I'm a day late...I meant to post this yesterday but had to spend most of the day in the city. But here is Pt. 3 of a collection of random, lesser known comments from Paul. This exercise was explained here: http://spiral-scratch.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-have-soft-spot-for-zealots.html

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They show interest in you, but not in a good way; they want to isolate you, so that you may show interest in them.

Would that those who are upsetting you might also castrate themselves.

If you go on biting and devouring one another, beware that you are not consumed by one another.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law.

Let us not be conceited, provoking one another, envious of one another.

For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he is deluding himself.

May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call...

In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.

You should put away the old self of your former way of life, corrupted through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new self, created in God’s way in righteousness and holiness of truth.

No foul language should come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for needed edification that it may impart grace to those who hear.

All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you along with all malice.

So husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.

If there is any encouragement in Christ, any solace in love, any participation in the Spirit, any compassion and mercy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heard thinking one thing.

Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves each looking out not for his own interests, but also everyone for those of others.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Feeling wistful

All of this beautiful new snow that blanketed the city just five days ago is all melting away. You can even see the grass peeking through in some places. Hard to believe that it was covered with 18 inches less than a week ago. It's going to be 53 today but down to 23 tomorrow so I hope it doesn't melt and then ice up or traveling will be worse tomorrow than it was last weekend with all of that snow.

Life in the house is so quiet now that we don't have an ailing cat to fret over. Lucca, the Golden Retriever puppy, swallowed a toy mouse and ended up in intensive care and had to get surgery to remove the obstruction. I guess you can't watch babies or puppies close enough because they both put everything in their mouths.

I had a visitor, Asa, from Germany in town this week. It is so hard when old friends move away. It is like there is a hole in your life that emails just can't replace. It was great to see her but it reminded me of those frequent times when we would just run into each other on the street and talk. It just happened as part of our daily lives.

I wish more people wrote letters these days...they seem much more personal than email messages of a line or two saying "I'm busy. Will write later". I'm one of the few people I know who save old email messages from friends but they are de facto letters and I want to have something I can read later and get all maudlin about when I miss their presence.

I once scored high on a personality test (professionally administered, not in Cosmopolitan) on a scale of devotion (it also measure other characteristics) and I'm afraid I get terribly attached to the people I become close to. But it has been a recurring theme that people get opportunities elsewhere or the cost of living here is too high and they move on.

Luckily, there is a professional conference I attend yearly where I can see most of them (though, unfortunately without spouses and children) so I guess I should cherish that instead of wishing for things that existed in the past. I have to consciously try not to live in the near past as much but it is easy to reminisce about good times with old friends when your current life feels full of frustrations.

Time to plan for the weekend...

Thursday, February 16, 2006

When shall I arise?

I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been told off of me.
If in bed, I say, "When shall I arise?" then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn
(Job 7:3-4)

This is plaint of those of us who suffer from insomnia. I was first hit with insomnia about 13 years ago. I would spontaneously wake around 4 am every morning and was unable to get back to sleep. So, I just adjusted my schedule, going to bed between 9 and 10 pm and getting up early.

It was actually quite an interesting period of my life...I got a lot of work done because the house was quiet and I started going to a nearby cloistered convent for 6:30 am services just because I was up and curious about the group. By 9 am, I had usually gotten a lot of work done.

Then, about six months later, the 4 am risings ended and I started waking up at a more normal time. I almost started missing those early morning hours when it seemed like I had the whole world to myself.

But this current bout of insomnia has been different. It started hitting me around April 2003 and continued in full force until last summer. In this case, I just can not fall asleep at all. It's amazing to think you can lie in bed for 6 or 7 hours and do nothing but toss and turn but it's how I spent many a night and early morning. I was pretty much useless the next day, just sleepwalking through the hours until I could go back to bed and try again to sleep. And, for some reason, no matter how tired I was, I couldn't catch up on my sleep during the day by taking a nap. It was sleep at night or no sleep at all.

I tried everything...getting up and doing work, relaxing my body through meditation, reading a dull book, hot baths, herbs and vitamins, sleep-inducing teas, homeopathic remedies, and prescription medication. EVERYONE I knew had an opinion or remedy to offer, none of which did much good. It took at least a year to get some help because the doctors I consulted and all of the books I read say that most insomnia is short-lived. But it kept going on, night after night, a couple of times a week.

The worst part was when I would have two sleepless nights in a row. Going 48+ without sleep can induce a hallucinatory-like state where you have a feeling of unreality. It is hard to describe but it almost felt like I was on drugs. I felt really unsteady behind the wheel of a car and usually avoided driving.

Things have calmed down in the past six months and now it is usually only once a week or so and I have learned ways to deal with it. But it hit me again last night and reminded me of this quote from Job which I had heard in a church a few weeks ago. It seemed to capture the despair one feels when one cannot drift into sleep.

The moral of the story? Never discount the blessing of a night of rest...it is without price!

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Becoming a pyromaniac

When I first started this blog last month, I had to limit myself to writing only one entry a day. I had so much I wanted to write down. Now, a month later, I find myself with so little worth saying. The enormous snowfall? So what. My teaching? I don't want to reveal too many details about that. My writing problems? How self-absorbed. My health issues? Everyone is dealing with something going wrong in their lives.Same old, same old.

How could I go from bursting with ideas to being intellectually bankrupt so fast? The muses are indeed fickle. And it has been quite a while since they smiled upon me and showered me with their blessings.

Right now, my ass has been called on the carpet (is that a real expression?) because it's been so damn long since I've turned in any of the work I'm supposed to be doing. It is almost like the pressure has to become unbearable in order for me to work and who wants to put themselves through that kind of stress? It's like being an actor who has stage fright who signs up to do 8 performances a week...almost like I have to force myself to do what terrifies me because I know somewhere in there there is a payoff. And that payoff is a long, long ways away.

The funny thing is is that I'm good at what I do. I think so and I've been told so by others. But I'm not "brilliant" and that apparently is the standard by which my advisers are judging me by. And the prospect of getting yet another rejection of my best efforts is demoralizing.

Ironically, intellectually, I know that this is something every writer goes through. I have books that tell me so! No artistic effort ever matches the ideal in your head (everything that exists is imperfect) and it is impossible to please every critic. All of these books tell me that the writers who are successful just work on despite the rejections that anticipate receiving, writing through the anxiety. But most people who want to generate creative work let themselves be stopped by the frustrations which are real and painful.

So, I guess I need a thicker skin or a bigger ego or a singlemindedness that will keep me working despite knowing that whatever I do will fall short of my advisers' hopes for me (this attitude is not me being a fatalist but what I've experienced over four years of working with them). I guess I need to stop seeking their approval and yet I literally can not move forward in the process without it, I can't take the next step until I get their okay.

So, I think I need to put on my bitch face and channel some of this despair into anger and put that into my work. Not the most positive approach but maybe it will help to light a fire from these burnt coals of my career.

Hey, I guess I did find something to write about...a good size dose of self-absorption but isn't that what blogs are really all about?