Thursday, October 17, 2013

Blessed are those who Mourn (for they will be comforted)

Maybe the turn to colder weather has done me in.  I'm just not sure.  Maybe it's the hand-to-mouth week we've had, full of students cancelling when bills refuse to stop coming.  Or maybe it's our 5 month old, rushed to the hospital because his sister dropped him on the pavement, fine of course, but not good for the heart.  Either way, I am just down.

I received a note from the OB that I have sent a check to every month since my miscarriage in June of 2012.  It said, "since you are delinquent in your balance of 382.64 we will no longer be treating you.  Please fill out the enclosed form so we can send your info on to another doctor." Um, I missed the month of August apparently.  One payment out of 17?  I have broken my back to send them money every month.

I read yet another Obamacare-bashing thing.  I don't need to read these anymore.  I promised myself I would stay away from political crap, but this one posed itself as "non-partisan"  hahaha.  I am supremely bothered by the discussion of healthcare without compassion to those who have had none for so long.  No perfect systems exist, but doesn't Jesus weep for the one where we say, "sorry you have pre-existing leukemia, prepare yourself for bankruptcy as well."  We needed another system years ago, but we sat there in our comfy offices watching insurance pay $15k for our fifteen minute trips to the emergency room and we said, "at least I don't have to pay it."  So I weep for that.

I weep for every single discussion we have about gay people that doesn't take to heart the suffering that takes place for years when you have to be a type of different that is literally feared and hated.  It's that end I see, I guess.

I was thinking about mourning--Tuesday was Dari's birthday, and it's been...hmmm...6 years since we lost her.  I was thinking about the way mourning always feels like a piece of you, missing.  It's our world, always missing a piece.  Usually the piece is Grace.  Mercy.  Kindness, that type of stuff.  I've had my fill of good corporate math.  I have had my fill of government shutdown talks, and "nothing is wrong under the sun as long as there's love" talks.  Blech.  It leaves a film in my mouth.  We are supposed to be overflowing in generosity. 

My four year old is insanely selfish.  I mean--seriously, she cannot see beyond her own needs for a minute.  I am starting to anticipate and hate the act of crying and contrition in hopes that I will let her watch tv or give her a cookie.  I want her to see a need in someone else, and what have I done so wrong that she wants to "work" me?  My students are so selfish they do despicable things....cancellations, promises of helping me with something and last minute backouts...and don't get me started on the selfishness humans possess when they don't see the face they're letting down.  Let them suffer if I don't have to know their name, right?  The new rationale seems to be that Americans are SURE if you suffer you must deserve it.  I'm not suffering, we think, and that must be because I've worked hard, I've earned it.  You know what you all need folks?  A career in the arts!  That'll show you how unfair everything is.  The hardest workers get pat on the back and never hired...*sigh*  

But I suppose I mostly mourn myself.  Inside I will always see the potential for the kind person I imagine.  I will hope for opportunities of selflessness that I make excuses not to find.  I am, after all, pretty wretched.  I am not to be excluded from the head-shaking. Pipes, perfectly capable of selfish behavior so appalling it would make you wince.

Thank God there is comfort.  Thank God there is a good so good it makes all this look like a shooting star in a whole starry night.  Hard to imagine this makes me blessed, but I guess it does.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Time and Love (and Jesus Christ Superstar)

I keep starting blog posts and then abandoning them.  I am just going to write whatever I'm thinking tonight, in an oddly sad state, and publish it.  Sometimes you just have to keep going.

I am amazed by the changes in my body, but I am eager to get to the next stage...the stage where I haven't really been.  This is still about 10 pounds more than New York was, but only 10 is just amazing, and after the two babies, more amazing.  I can't wait until 15 pounds from now, where I start to leave NY weight behind.

I've had these moments this week of really missing being single.  I don't want that to come out wrong--I have had also these moments of strange awareness that the thing that works best in my life is my marriage.  I am utterly happy with hubby, pretty much all the time.  I occasionally snap at him, and get frustrated, but I feel such joy in being married to him on a constant basis, so that's definitely not what I miss.  The "men" that I dated in New York often hardly passed for men.  They were often selfish, immature, money-obsessed, body-obsessed and sad.  So what I miss maybe is life before kids.  I miss long dinners with quiet endings.  I miss drinking with a sense that it didn't matter what time I woke up or who would get me home.  I miss walking by myself, feeling unencumbered, light, quick, arms flapping, hair back.  I miss that feeling.  I miss New York's way of entertaining me quietly, and I miss not having a car. 

I miss frequent vacations, and sleeping on people's couches.

I saw a beautiful production of Jesus Christ Superstar this week.  Humorously, at the most intense moment of the show, when Jesus is raised up on a cross--beaten, tired, it's hardly watchable, the teenage girl behind me said, "wow.  this is really sad."  I wondered if she thought this show would somehow have a different ending.

This may be a cheeseball thing to say, but the wonderful thing about seeing a show like that, for me personally, is the reminder that after all the religion, politics, and morality fighting that I feel I have to do in my head every week, Jesus is still my best friend.  He's still the one I talk to all day long.   I adore the idea that he was (and is) the world's best friend.  In that musical, he just walks around with his apostles, they are so drawn to his glory and they don't even understand it, and in return he acts as friend to them.  I think it makes him so entirely different.  It also makes me think about that weird thing people who don't know Jesus tend to say....whenever they feel Christians are being judgmental they say something like, "don't you know Jesus was all about love?" but the truth is he was about every single aspect of your life, like your best friend is.  THat includes calling you out on your crap, and loving even the darkest places of you.  That's just not the same message as "it's all about love".  It's not.

I tell my students in voice lessons that breathing is just like love.  If you use all of it, you find you have more than you thought. 

The worst part of seeing a show is remembering how much I love performing for people.  I am petrified that I have signed up to sing in a faculty recital in January and have done nothing to prepare.  But the mad rush to prepare will be something to look forward to.

I miss how much time I had being single.  Seemed like there were all these weird hours of nothing.  Where did those go?