prologue

i was standing on the edge of the atmosphere
when i saw it


it was like nothing i'd ever seen
and everything i'd ever dreamed
(the dreams you dream in the deep dark)
and it passed me by
and it caught my
breath
stole it up in its trailing tails
till my legs grew weak
and my useless feet
conspired to renounce their post


oh they followed my gaze
and they spied but a haze
unimpressive and surely without
any merit or meaning
...
and in any case they were all caught up
in the earth's underbrush
and the sight of my stance
(which appeared in a glance
to be perilous if not entirely fatal)
made their otherwise dull visages
twist into dreadful grimaces

.and here is where i learned
that hilarity and tragedy are lovers.

oh they cringed and they moaned
and they offered me up
glass bottles of air
in their helpful little hands
because they felt sad my breath had been taken away
and pretty as they were
all colored and filled
with the stuff of life
all trapped inside them...

i knew in the deep
in the deep
in the dark
that it hadn't been
my breath

but my heart





to be continued * * *

ransom

fall in love
and hold nothing back






-- aaron marsh

its hard for me, but I'm trying

I posted this thinger on "facebook" a while ago (because i am lame. I should have posted a detailed survey on what i like and don't like in a potential life partner, or on how many people i have kissed and where instead... like everyone else does).

oh well. i modified the poem a bit since then, after watching "Big Kahuna".

august is a bridge between two lives, and I am far from both.
the ending summer and the new semester. the new morning and
the old hope falling asleep like the seconds before sunset.

i want to taste community
like grape juice from a tall glass after a long dry day,
passed hand to hand, with finger marks by the outer brim.
to meet the Bride of Christ, her artistry like trusting arms.

we keep to ourselves like water in teapots.
every tea needs several cups to pass around,
and every eye needs lines for someone else to notice.
I lie to myself when i see love in everything.

there is character that is further down than skin deep,
a face is useful to fool even yourself. we need some integrity,
and some stories from when decided to live.
we need new lines to draw wisdom, without words.

august is a bridge between two seasons,
old hope fading like a cool morning air
and a new hope of living, like coming back home.
and we are far from both.

015//faith

i've come across some really great realizations tonight. to summarize:

- everything happens on God's watch, not mine.
- prayer most definitely works, and we underestimate it.
- we can not turn our back on people who "backslide" on their faith.
- asking coffee shop employees for the shop's wireless password is hands down the most terrifying thing that a north american can experience.

i swear, i got the stink-eye from that girl the whole rest of the night.

another stupid adventure

When i was a kid my dad would take me and my brothers on these random boating trips, around the outer harbor of Nanaimo. We would float for hours towards Duke Point, and we would pass by log-booms crowded with sea lions, barking either for attention or for food;

Ohr! Ohr! I think thats that best way to describe the sound they made... Ohr!

And we would feel seasick, and mad that our dad had dragged us on another stupid adventure.

But then, when i take my own random stupid adventures, like driving to Whiterock with friend, and standing out on the dock until 12am. At one point, looking at a mile of water reflected lights and stars thinking "man. I've had a good life".

And I have had a good life. I grew up beside one of Earth's finest treasures. As much as the ocean has been polluted and made to serve the means of careless tourism industries and shipping, it has its moments.

It has its moments when you stand out on a clear night and the moon beams down in a pool-like reflection on the water at a distance, tracing a subtle line a long ways away. I have to feel blessed that the water in British Columbia at least has the appearance, and aroma, of clean and untouched even if the reality may be far from that.

I can't believe I almost forgot about that.

something different

If everything is explained, proved, and calculated, if the whole planet turns into a fireball of a super brain all-seeing, all-hearing, all-knowing, one thing will remain unexplained to the end: that human longing for something different, a different time, a different way, a different place.

- Blaga Dimitrova

i almost cried (where is a shoulder? where is a sleeve?)

i almost cried watching the news the other night. it was a story about a missing girl. but i have heard that many times before.
her mother was pleading with the entire nation. through tears equal to the most eloquent summer shower, she begged for someone to come forward with something. so many unknowns. so many variables. but i didn’t cry when the mother cried. i have seen that before.
my mother was watching too. “another sicko,” she said, “with his lost dog story.”
another another another.
but this time, and in that moment, something turned inside me. i almost cried.

i almost cried for this little girl because Lord knows where she is or what she is going through. but i have seen enough news stories and television shows. i know what usually happens.

i almost cried with the mother. helpless, confused, desperate, what are you feeling? i thought of myself as a parent.
i thought of myself as a parent…

i almost cried at my helplessness. my mind began calculating, scheming. i am healthy and able-bodied. how could i get to Quebec and help? would i be of any help? what could i even do?

i almost cried for the many times i have not cried at the news. if we allowed ourselves to actually be impacted by all the stories we hear and see, could we handle it?

* * *

forget the news, forget the big picture for a moment.
what if we actually opened up to each other, instead of making secrets out of silly things?
what if i told you what i have done, what i have come through?
could you handle it?
could i handle it?
is it even appropriate or necessary?

for me, this all relates back to my recent thinking about community, about living real and close and intentionally with other people. and i cannot help but think that the more we knew about those we live with, the more joy and freedom we would all have – even if we are sharing the rubbish and badness we carry with us. if we got it out, we could celebrate.

can you imagine being in Jesus’ physical presence every day? you would not be able to hide anything. if you were figuring something out or struggling or hurt, he would look at you – that would be it.
it would be overwhelming to look into those eyes. but comforting too.
so what is the difference for us then? we are still invited to be with him every day. he has left the Spirit as a guide and mentor. but we, we have made privacy a right. and we, we have made Jesus private.
we have even come up with pretty little ways to pretend we are sharing our struggles and being real. and so our stories have all become the same. mine is the same as yours, and yours too, so why would you be interested?
“i grew up in a Christian home, at some point i backslid until i made Jesus my own.”
but what is backsliding? it is as unimaginative as using the “f” word incessantly, except the “f” word has more passion, misplaced though it may be.
how we backslid – and how we got out of it – that is what makes us real people! you want to be relevant? you want to be real? forget going to the pub after your evening service, featuring clips from a Bono interview – tell your story!

of course it is easier said. i think of things i have to tell and the thought that follows immediately is “but how would they react?”
shame. pride.
these have almost become as much a part of the church as the inspired Word itself. but how, how deadly they are. and so long as we cling to our privacy, propped up by personal issue prayer requests and bland backsliding, they will thrive.
but where there is light, there cannot be darkness. where there is honesty, there is acceptance. and where there are struggles laid bare, for us to share, there will be love.

it is scary, and as i have heard it put so well, people are messy. and i do not know if i am even ready to actually run with my thoughts here. and if i was, i do not know if anyone else would want to as well. and as much as we need to care about the world, about missions and overseas, there is no need to do a building project in Mexico if you want to get your hands dirty.
just give your neighbour a hug.
who knows, maybe their dirt will seem strangely familiar.

in many cultures, washing laundry is something done together.

wanderlust

there is something seemingly timeless and classically inspiring about walking down a set of train tracks. i feel as though i am part of a long history, some sort of North American pilgrimage or rite of passage.
i feel as though i am in a wandering communion with the Hemingways or Kerouacs, the Bob Dylans and Johnny Cashes.

the tracks i walk along run through the city – houses to my right, industrial lots on my left – but i am alone, away from any sign of human existence save the railroad itself. the grass stands as high as my waist and i imagine all around to be the untamed, wide open plains.
the city, the traffic are drowned out by the lonesome warble of the red-winged blackbird on a cattail stalk and the frantic flittering call of the killdeer scampering about the stones.
the only sign of the trains themselves are the rails worn silver and the occasional trail of spilled wheat or corn.
i am reminded of the city again when i see the pigeons gathered for an abundant meal.

along the tracks, i find it easier to think, easier to wonder, easier to get caught up in pondering life. but that’s all – simply realizing that there is life and i am in it.
and i sing out loud
to no one
except maybe
the ghost of Johnny Cash.

(and so the sun and the moon will run away together)

i feel
like
love
i could touch your face and leave a trace like
fingerpaints


and all the ones i meant to tell
are gathered in the space behind my eyes
straining out from ancient cells
between the iron guards of consciousness and abandon

and on my chest above my heart
the summer sun has left a mark in milky white
--a locket with a secret
i tried to keep
(that can't ever quite be kept)

so now i play
dress up
cover up
but
i laugh at me when i catch a glimpse
in some familiar glass
because i know it's there
and i'm so aware
that someday
so will you
.

one more cup of coffee before i go

Thanks Adam for all the info. I'll be checking it out for sure. one little thing: your one link seems to be missing ("try this site out").

It's amusing as the other day my mom and i were out grocery shopping and we couldn't believe how much produce (in terrible condition i might add) is from the US. even peaches! it's peach season in the Okanogan and they're shipping peaches from California!?
i couldn't help but wonder if part of the reason for the produce being such poor quality is that we're messing around so much with growing seasons. we're probably pushing the plants and the soil beyond their capacities.

and it is true, simple small steps.

* * *

i hear you on the sadness, as i too am very good at talking about things and then not getting involved in making them happen. i do think it is still so important to keep thinking and talking and dreaming, as you never know when you will bring it up with just the right person and something will happen.

i get overwhelmed and then i feel like just going back to bed. (Copeland? "I just woke to eat some chocolate
And...I'll go straight back to bed").
but sometimes the sadness is comforting. i'm reminded that we are all broken, in a broken world. but it's okay. and i find i'm okay with that, even though i haven't fixed anything.
i had a good reminder of this the other night. like as if Jesus sat me down and reminded me in that way that parents kindly point something out to you that you momentarily forgot and your only response is an agreeing "yeah, i know."
it was , "who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?...therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. each day has enough trouble of its own."
simple to agree with, so often harder to live.
but if i may, i will join you for a cup of tea.

* * *

(i wrote this poem a few days ago. it seemed fitting)

the end of the world

sounds like we've got plans
for the end of the world
as if plan 'a' has been demoted
for the chance to curl
up with a good book
or today's newspaper unfurled
sounds like a warm cup of tea will be just fine
and we've got plans for the end of the world

- graeme andrew

let's have some tea, and slow down

heres a small list of things to do if you want to save the environment that i complied in my head while dusting vents in a gym-

1) you have to start very small. you can't expect to change your entire lifestyle drastically, because it just won't work. thus, the reason that diets and new years resolutions always fail.

2) start to live with less stuff. i mean, this isn't a hard thing to do. solving the environmental issue isn't about money... in fact, if you live simply you will spend far less money. how much of the stuff in your house gets used daily? does it ever really get used?

theres an adage that says "i life full of things is an empty life". Now, take it a bit further... if you do too many things, if you consume yourself with endless plans, meetings, groups, and time costraints you will forget that there is even beauty on this earth.

how about taking one or two, maybe 6, things off the ol' to do list, and start to love the few things that are left... like coffee on a friend's backdeck, or taking deep breaths over a good book of prose.

3) start to re-think how you eat. pick up a copy of "Simply in Season", or "The 100 mile diet" and start to eat more intelligently.

start buying food with stories, with a big of dignity. food that is handed to you from a farmers hand, still weathered with a bit of dirt from the field... as oppposed to something grown in california, processed in a factory in ontario, and shipped to a safeway in BC (thats a whole lot of mileage).

this is not to say "diet", its to say learn how to buy things in season, which have not been shipped across the world seven times over.

coffee and green tea are one thing... you can't grow coffee in cold places, where it rains a lot. but salt, wheat, apples- these are all things we can produce closer to home. you can easily grow some tomatoes on your backdeck (something which i have to remember to do next year. gah, after i simplify my life and stop doing so much).

in the words of some wise person (it might have been syllvester stallone) changing shouldn't be drastic. if you eat 10 pieces of pizza for dinner everyday, start eating 6. you have to start somewhere.

4) try some fair trade coffee, tea, pants, whatever. you are helping farmers earn an honest living, and supporting income for those who have none. and you're also saving a lot of processing that coffee generally goes through. and it just tastes better.

aaaand, try this site out


~

on a completely un-related note, theres this weird pattern that has started to develop in all my recent conversations- about love, life, pasta, women, and whatever else. the pattern is that i always fall into a despair by the end of the conversation.

i start to talk about things i can't comprehend that well- community, justice, poverty. then i talk about ideals to solve problems that i can't live up to. plans which are too big for me to live out right away.

and then i worry that i will never "find someone" ... someone to walk beside, and translate all, or maybe some, of the mysteries of life with. that would probably be my "lonely-student-who-has-been-single-for-a-long-time" speaking

hmm. i tend to get sad way too often. i should really do something about that. oh well.

lets have tea, sometime today. hmm. but since we all live so far away from each other i will drink some tea, think about you, and hope you will do the same. later.

-Adam