waking sense

It has been almost two weeks since my friend and former college Joe died. I remember Joe telling me when we worked together that he was “mixed up” when it came to faith. His honesty at the time impressed me. These days, I feel mixed up as well.

At his funeral, I whispered Hail Mary.

Light and dark both running through me. At times, the work seems about trying to purge the darkness from me. But, my bad thoughts remain, and they always come back. A more modest goal, it seems, is to create enough space within myself for both darkness and light.

Joyce Carol Oats wrote about Simone Weil --- “Ah, the art of being so completely and so brilliantly self-deceived! – is sainthood anything else?” I wonder if I am similarly self-deceived. But aren’t we all? Can anyone see themselves clearly? For me, the nagging fear is how others see me. But I think I need to let this go and simply accept that my vision and motives will always be partial, conflicted, capable of both good and destruction. I shouldn’t waste time trying to figure out which is which.

However, I want to be connected to some sort of reality. I want to be grounded. The only reality I can find solace in right now is materialism and perhaps the hope of another material world that is already and not yet. I find sanity in the quiet: in drinking a cup of coffee, in tasting fresh summer fruits and vegetables, in walking down the block. I find common sense in touching my body, in recitation, and color.

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. This, perhaps, may be my final comfort.

a long while

hello! I'm not even sure who reads my words anymore, but after a few months of silence, I'm starting to post again.

Than and I are now living in Houston. We have been here about three weeks, though it seems a bit less than that as we have been in and out of the city for various events and obligations.

We accomplished our goal of going back to South Africa this summer. I haven't really processed the trip yet ---- but hope to do a little of that here soon. Suffice to say, it was a good restful vacation. I originally had wished it to be more than a vacation, but I soon found out that everyone needs a vacation from time to time. It was so good to take a break from writing, from thinking, from doing, from working, from daily routines.

Now, I'm eager to get to work, which is as it should be, I think. Nervous about starting graduate school next week, but I hope my curiosity and love of learning will provide me with the sort of courage I need to dive in.

More to come...

a day at the beach

Hamburg, South Africa --- July 2009

are you happy

“are you still living in CA? are you happy? fulfilling your dreams? married?”

At night, I dream of people past. This ache never goes away – I just attempt, some days better than others, to live alongside it. How I wish I could live 100 parallel lives!

A stolen kiss, a whispered prayer, laughter upon laughter

Back when friendship was free.

I’ve discovered love never dies, even when the lights have gone out. We have grown into our own lives. Yet, I still think of you.

the home stretch

Waiting and restless.

I’ve been thinking about going back to South Africa and back to school for so long, it’s hard to believe that it’s almost here. It’s hard to believe that it has been seven years since my first trip to Cape Town. I’ve been talking about graduate school since then, and it’s amazing to be almost there. 

The reality of studying for the next five years is slowly sinking in. I’m hesitant about this new identity: scholar.I’ve spent a long time running from it. Hiding and submerging the stirrings of my heart and my intellectual gifts. All the while, I could not escape the ideas that captured my imagination and left me hungry for more.

More justice. More reconciliation. More dialogue. More change.

I’ve been afraid of commitment – the demands of commitment. I’m afraid of discipline. I’m afraid of failure, but perhaps even more afraid of success. And yet, I continue to step forward. Baby steps. I don’t have to have this whole thing figured out just yet.

Looking back, it’s been daily work. One step after another, an email here and an email there, studying for the GRE, connecting thoughts and fragments into a personal statement, reading, pushing myself to be faithful to the tasks right in front of me. And now, I will be part of this world --- long reviled and desired --- 

converting to atheism and back again

New Statesman - Why I believe again

Really lovely quote in this longer piece in the New Statesman about the journey from doubt - to unbelief - to belief. The article profiles A N Wilson, once a religious man turned atheist, who is now slowly grasping back to God again.

"The existence of language is one of the many phenomena – of which love and music are the two strongest – which suggest that human beings are very much more than collections of meat. They convince me that we are spiritual beings, and that the religion of the incarnation, asserting that God made humanity in His image, and continually restores humanity in His image, is simply true. "

His suspicion of "conversion," in his case to atheism, rings true with my own experiences. The q & a portion is also quite interesting. Wilson says his fear of death pushed him back to God.