The Other Sister

I watched one of my favorite movies tonight, The Other Sister. I think it's a great movie and it usually always leaves me with something different to think about. Tonight I sit here and think about the part when Carla (the mentally disabled sister/daughter...the "other" sister) gets upset with her mother because she wants to move to Florida with her boyfriend, Danny, who also happens to be mentally disabled. The mother is saying that Carla's eyes are closed, that Carla can do better, and that she doesn't think that Danny can take care of her because he can hardly take care of himself. Carla passionately replies with a few key one liners...

"We can take care of each other!"


"I know how to do one thing mother, I can love!"


"I can't do better because I'm not better!"

Now, in context these one liners are very powerful statements and I guess they still can be even as I'm typing them here. But these three stood out to me this time. The first, probably because I think that more often than not, we underestimate the power of living in community. Taking care of each other. Or maybe we don't underestimate it, we just neglect it because we're independent and think we can take care of ourselves. I have to say that I side more with the independent side, thinking that I don't need anyone and I can do it all on my own because that's what I've always done. That's what I've always had to do.

The second statement really jumped out at me. Carla, who doesn't know a lot of things, knows how to love. Sometimes (most times) I feel like I don't. Like there's always something stopping me, holding me back from loving. Maybe it's me. But to know what it's like to love, sounds so...I don't even know how to put it. It sounds fulfilling, great, joyful, whole, etc. and it sounds like something I really want to experience at some point in my life. Maybe I'm trying to figure out how to get to that place, the place where I can love deeply and more fully than I've ever known or been shown.

The third, I think this one really hit/smacked me, more than resonated with me. I'm not really sure what I think of it yet. Can we ask or require of others what we ourselves are not? In the mean time, are we settling if we don't expect more out of others...or more importantly, ourselves?

Unfortunately I don't own this movie, but I do highly recommend it if you get a chance to rent it. Well worth the buck or two.

More specific blogging rules

Funny that I posted what I did earlier today. Got an email from a friend that put what I was trying to say much more clearly. So, I've taken it and adapted it so it makes more sense for me and this blog. Here goes:

Rule #1: It’s my journal, so I’ll write in it whenever I want to. "Whenever" allows room for ridiculous amounts of posts in a day as well as extended breaks without explanation or apology.

Rule B: It’s my journal, so I’ll write about whatever I want to. "Whatever" allows room for insightful, uninteresting, mind-boggling, meaningless, strange, awkward, or deep postings that may not make any sense at all. Also, without explanation or apology.

Guideline #3: It’s my journal, so I don’t really expect anyone to read it. My life isn’t one of fame. If anyone is reading this it’s because a.) you know me and you are really curious about what is going on in my head, b.) you know me and just love me anyway. c.) you are really bored. d.) none of the above. e.) other: _____
 

Utawala Namba Nne: It’s my journal, so I’m not going to stress myself out over punctuation or proper grammar. If it bugs you (whoever you are), then quit reading. 

Blogging rules?

So, this whole blogging thing is kinda weird for me. Are there any rules? I always debate with myself what I should post, what I shouldn't, what I can say and what I can't. I always edit my posts before I "publish" them. So, I've made a decision...

Since no one really reads this (and if you do...well then this is for you) I can post whatever I want. This is my space (no...not myspace), my journal, my blurb and I can do whatever I want with it. Meaning I can post as many times as I want in a day, about whatever I want. Whether it seems meaningless, strange, insightful, or it doesn't make any sense at all. I can post it. It's my journal.

So if you've got a problem with that, bummer, quit reading it. It's really not for you anyway. If you do decide to keep reading, cool, I guess that says something.

That's all for now.

Nightmares

I've been having these intense nightmares the last few nights. I finally fall asleep after trying so hard to calm down my mind and before I know it I'm up again, clenching my pillow, sweating, heart pounding, afraid to fall asleep again.

Does this mean anything? I'm no expert on dreams or what they mean, what they don't mean, etc. but I do find it kind of ironic with where I am in life right now. I don't get it. I don't know how to make it stop. So, I sit in bed waiting for myself to calm down, the adrenaline to stop rushing, my heart to stop pounding...

I hold my pillow as I stare at the ceiling saying, "God where are you? Why don't you just SHOW UP?! Come on! Give me something here...please? What do I need to do for you to come to me? Won't you just scoop me up, take me away, please? Just let me know I'm safe for once. Am I asking too much here? Please, won't you just show up?!"

A prayer from Henri Nouwen

“Dear God,
I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?
Please help me to gradually open my hands
and to discover that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.
And what you want to give me is love,
unconditional, everlasting love.
Amen."

– Henri Nouwen

This prayer speaks straight to me. I'm afraid. I'm still holding on, unsure if I want to let go or what my life would look like if I did. I don't know where to start. I keep inching closer and closer to the edge and when I get there and look down, I run back. How many times am I going to do this before I just jump?

Are we entitled to anything?

Welp, I guess you could say that this Christmas was...interesting, as most of them are to say the least. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be and I'll count that as a blessing. I won't go into any unnecessary details but I will expound upon on one of the many things that was said today that struck my attention and thought.

The conversation on one end of the table got around to the idea of volunteering for "Toys 4 Tots" or giving out meals and other volunteer projects around the holiday season. Someone boldly stated, "Ya know what really pisses me off? When people act like they're entitled to it. That just pisses me right off..."

That statement got me thinking, and I surely could have said several things but I have learned (quite well, I might add) when to keep my mouth shut. Instead, I thought to myself, "Well, by saying that, aren't you also claiming that you are entitled to something, a thank you or some type of appreciation? Does it all come down to a pride issue on both sides? What makes us think that we are 'owed' something when we serve people? Are we subconsciously claiming that we are above those we are serving because we feel like we deserve thanks?"

Just one of the many thoughts from the day. I know that if I were to write about others I'd be blogging for pages and pages...which I guess would be alright since no one reads this anyway. Buuuut on the other hand, that's what my journal is for...but I will say that blogging is becoming increasingly easier! Blah.blah.BLAH....

As I stand here shaking

I want to be satisfied by you. I want to dive in completely. I want to be healed and gouge out the infection in my wounds. I want more than a band-aid, a temporary fix or a "feel good" solution. I'm tired of being outside of myself. I've been dying inside, wilting slowly for months now. I'm nearing the last knot, if I haven't hit it already and now I'm just slowly slipping.
Will you be the hand that catches my fall?
I want all of these things God, but I'm afraid. I'm struck by this fear that is not of you. I have an idea of what is coming, of what this path looks like. It's rough, it's dark and painful. It's raw. I'm staring down this path, stepping on the line wondering what to do next. I can hear your voice calling from the distance, a very far distance. I can't see you from where I stand, shaking. I can't feel you, I can't feel your touch. It's what I want so desperately.
What would it look like if I broke through this fear that has tangled me in its tight grasp?
I want to experience freedom. I want to know what emotion is an how it is truly felt. I want to be whole. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be stagnant God, where is your hand? Won't you reach for me if I am your beloved? Won't you pull me out of this quickly sinking sand because God, I'm drowning. Don't you see me?
I open my mouth and nothing comes out and you cannot hear my cry. I haven't the courage to make it. I am in this starkly dark, deep cloud of fog and I cannot see you. I cannot feel you. I only faintly hear you far off in the distance, down this frightening path. This terrifying journey.
So I stand here, shaking, struck by fear and stuck in this place. Won't you reach for me, your so called "beloved?" Will I see you?
Will I reach back?

Thoughts from a rocking chair

Just about every Wednesday night I babysit a 14 month old boy, Jayden. Now, I've watched him since he was about 6 months old so I feel somewhat connected to the kid. I arrive after the most hectic day (typically) of my week (sloshed with all 3 of my jobs, class, etc.) sometimes stressed out and not in the mood and other times I am more than ready to spend a couple hours with him before putting him to sleep.

Last night I was spent in more ways than one and I was more than ready to 'check out' for the rest of the night. So, we played and I was a little more low-key than usual and even though Jayden can only say a total of (maybe) 10 words at this point in his life, I think he somehow knew I was spent. When it was time for me to give him some milk and put him to sleep, I decided to rock in the chair with him.

He fell asleep ever so slowly in my arms as we rocked. He would drift off and then suddenly open his eyes wide to find me and then fall asleep again. It was almost like he had to make sure he was safe before he could fall asleep again. He had to make sure I was still there, still holding him tight. Now, I'm not so sure he was thinking all of these things but that is what I got out of it. After he fell asleep for a while I kept rocking, closed my eyes and chatted it up with God. Praying for Jayden, his family and a combination of other things that have been on my mind lately. In the quiet, only hearing Jayden breathe softly, I felt God there. It was a 'divine moment' I guess you could call it. It was so surreal. There was just something about it that made me sigh and bask in the presence of God.

On the drive home I was thinking to myself, "I want more of that, more of those moments" and a second or two later, I thought the opposite, "I'm afraid of what I'll discover or what will be uncovered or what I'll hear, the 'closer' I get to God."

Hmm...and here I sit...