15 Apr, 2009 - Did you know?

Apologies for my late postings, I will get back to speed soon enough!

I realise many may have seen this, but for those who haven't - an eye opener:

13 Apr, 2009 - Easter

Happy Easter! I was contemplating this morning, after the prompting of our fantastic minister, on the meaning that Easter holds for me. I thought of the traditional response of the Easter story in the Bible, but as a non-believer of the Christian faith, I was quickly forced to put that one aside. I then remembered the repeated advocations of this morning's service of Easter as an expression of rebirth, both divine and present. Closer, but still not quite.

I will tell you the meaning of my Easter: food. Please, allow me to explain.

I remember my mother hiding chocolates in the garden for me to find, invariably resulting in my mother attempting to remember where they had all been put when several were found to be missing. One year, she had the brainwave to hide them the night before, resulting in several fox-chewed and even more drizzled-upon chocolates. Yet despite these challenges, every year there was chocolate in the garden, right up until I left home, and I would be dragged around the garden in my mother's excited quest. I remember painting eggshells and decorating the kitchen with yellow tissue paper and bunting.

Easter was also an excuse to cook; we produced heavenly cakes and muffins from our kitchen, much to the delight of those around us. When I was six, I insisted on cooking my father something by myself, which consisted of everything besides the use of the oven. Unfortunately, without a concept of either cooking or when something is inedible, my father was pressured bravely, in an act of pure love, to eat a small cooked tartlet filled with eggshell fragments that crunched delightfully. In fact, I still remember that particular tone of crunch.

My perception of Easter therefore, is one of food; the sharing of a communal gift and expression of love, a sense of joy in exploring the newly-emerging garden and the rather daft adventures of a six-year-old with two sacrificial, egg-crunching parents. Yet all of these memories reach beyond food - to chocolate. Once it was the joys of its sweetness and it's limited availability to my six-year-old self, but there is something else I see in chocolate. Not it's sweetness, or its taste, but rather its production.

Chocolate is brought to us from a bean, processed, blended and tempered into what we see. Is life not exactly like this? We are tiny beans, blended and tempered into sweetness from experience and hardship. The more we live, the more sweeter the joys of life become.

Eat well from the chocolate bar of life, my friends!

3 Apr, 2009 - Exciting news!

On a separate note: yesterday, a piece of work I had completed was handed back to me with an A+. And an offer of work. Potential publication. Several of my tutors wish to copy it for their records, and a copy will be entering a major library.

I am over the moon, and have suddenly remembered why I love what I do, despite the copious amounts of caffeine, late nights and distinct lack of pay. Just sometimes, life is all worth the effort.

3 Apr, 09 - Melancholy

I have a friend who trusts me, deeply, with her personal memories and problems. I am honoured by this, and always hope to be worthy of it.

But what do you say when they simply stop listening? Her boyfriend committed suicide two weeks ago and she has been struggling ever since. I think she guessed that something like this might happen but simply blocked all thoughts away, both blocking her own fears and his closest connection to life. Her guilt is tremendous, although not totally justified. She has never been the most practical, down-to-earth sort of person; although she has suffered greatly, her mind resides wholly in her past and her future, in what she might one day change in the world.

She misses the present completely, because she fears that that will hurt more than her memories. Each time she is in the present, she is in her imagination, in her own world that allows for liberty to create and break the rules. She needs grounding in the present, settling into an experience of the real world that is ambivalent, not coloured by such strong emotions that rock her each time she moves.

I don't know how to help. I have stopped knowing what to say to her, because I know she won't listen. Or at least, I didn't listen. I am fairly sure that I am a terrible listener anyway. But beyond being there, I don't know what to do.

She is missing her life by reaching so far into her imagination or into her past - and she is such a fantastic gift to this world.

Sometimes, people are confused by my personality too - so I can try, and of course, fail to understand. I am often my happiest when I appear most stressed, or upset, or alternatively, most boisterous and active. I find great joy in sitting, on my own, quietly contemplating - it took me a while to learn joy in this. I love being with my friends, but I always have a streak of melancholy. Yet that is a joy to me. It helps me to see the world in balance, as clearly as I am able. I have even lost friends because I appear quiet and melancholic, when their enjoyment is derived from clubbing and activity. I must have seemed, and still seem overly depressed, saddened by the world. I understand the difficulty of others to see this as joy.

I hope she may be able to find some joy, even in melancholy.

I wish I knew how to help.

1 Apr, 2009 - April Fools Day

Happy April Fools Day...

26 Mar, 2009 - Breathe

From Praxis Habitus, comes a wonderful and inspiring post, featuring a pastor's video I hadn't previously seen.

I love this. I really needed to hear this two days ago. I seriously needed it.