what a wonderful life
in the past twenty-four hours i have eaten the following:
chocolate ice cream
chocolate shake
vanilla pudding
strawberry jello
this is the benefit of losing your wisdom teeth. i've also watched more television in the past 48 hours than in perhaps the whole fall put together. sick.
another very important update, if you're me, i'm keeping my blog when i go back to school so i can still post silly things like what i eat after surgery. be excited. that's a command.
Why hello there.
Have you ever had a day that shakes you up so much that by the end of the day, you look at yourself and you feel like you had an out of body experience? That happens to me frequently. I’ve had years like that. Tonight, while reading, I suddenly realized there was a hand holding my book. I was drawn away from the story to study the skinny wrist and dry, wrinkled hand that was attached to me. That’s me. Hmm.
Sometimes we realize that we’re really here. We’re not flies on the wall, or ghost observers of the events of another’s life. It’s me. The robot’s alive, Ma! It’s confusing to recognize the difference between your body and how you see yourself, your being.
I got the same feeling today looking at pictures of my time in Kenya. I was there. Yep, that’s me. My nose isn’t that pointy is it? Hm. I’ve come lately to assume the attitude with which my favorite author, Anne Lamott talks about her thighs. She calls them her aunties. She dotes them and talks to them softly, comforting them. Sometimes when I realize that I myself am really me, then I get to say, hey crazy, chill out, look where you are- wow.
It makes me feel lucky. I feel like I’ve survived. “Survived what, white girl?” I ask myself. I’m not exactly sure, but I think I’ve survived something in between who I am and who I expected myself to be. I’ve come through all the real life and fantasy things that I have done and not done to be here, today, standing in front of myself. I’m definitely not perfect, but I am me, and finally that’s who I want to be.
Another one of my favorite people, Rob Bell said, “I can’t believe I get to live this life.” When I see myself and finally recognize myself not as who I thought I was, but as who I am, that’s exactly how I feel. I can’t believe I’m here. Thank God. I’m so happy that I’ve made it that questioning and criticizing myself seems ridiculous. Your nose? Please, look! It’s you, your flesh and blood and your smile and all of you. You’re really there, and here! You’re you. I’m me. Emily. And that’s who I get to be forever. As long as I recognize that that’s who I am. Score.
my city and my family
Grandma and Me.............................
My favorite store.............................
The farm.........................................
justin..............................................
petey and reikey..............................
#10
Tis hard for us to rouse our spirits up-
It is the human creative agony
Though but ot hold the heart an empty cup
Or tighten on the team the rigid reign.
Many will rather lie among the slain
Than creep through narrow ways the light to gain-
Than wake the will, and be born bitterly.
But we who would be born indeed,
Must wake our souls unnumbered times a day
And urge ourselves to life with holy greed.
Now open our bosoms to the wind's free play,
And now, with patient forceful, hard, lie still
Submiss and ready to the making will,
Athirst and empty, for God's breath to fill.
George MacDonald
Diary of an Old Soul
stream of consciousness
so today i was working at the lovely establishment of potbelly's and i got to experience the american corporate machine first hand in the most pleasant task of taking out the trash. my potbelly's is in a huge high rise that is on wacker. wacker has a lower level that is just for fun things like trash. cory and i took two huge garbage cans down the elevator to the lower level, through dark hallways and finally into the lodaing station (translated: trash town). here we encountered four garbage men that are employed to take garbage from all the different levels of the building and bring it here, to the basement.
in our inexperience, we did not immediately begin throwing trash places as we entered the lodaing dock. instead we stood still, cocked our heads to the side a bit and assumed a confused expression. of course, we did this in the way of the garbage men. from behind us, they yelled little tidbits of encouragement to speed up the process. cory replied that we were tired and had been working since 11 am. To this, one particularly large garbage man replied:
"i've been working since 6 this morning on another job, and i'm working tonight until 1. then i have to get up again to work at 6 tomorrow."
to this, i replied in my infinite brilliance, "why?" this question had no tint to it, no "why, dumbass?", no "why, fatty?", just plain and simple wondering why this man works 19 hour days. to this he replied:
"because i got a wife at home like you who writes the checks." again, in a stunning display of my intellect, i replied, "oh, i am not a wife." this is what came out when what i intended to communicate was, "what?!" he replied once more:
"well then we got girlfriends at home like you that write the checks." er, what again? thinking better of really engaging this surly man in a discourse on women, i just nodded and rolled my little trash can away. five minutes later after cory and i had ventured out into the cold to finish our task, we returned and as we made our way back into the building, the aforementioned garbage man of said spendy wife said to me, "smile."
#9?!
In the morning
After taking a cold shower
-----what a mistake-----
I look at the mirror.
There, a funny guy,
Grey hair, white beard, wrinkled skin,
-----what a pity-----
Poor, dirty, old man!
He is not me, absolutely not.
Land and life
Fishing in the ocean
Sleeping in the desert with stars
Building a shelter in the mountains
Farming the ancient way
Singing with coyotes
Singing against the nuclear war-
I'll never be tired of life.
Now I'm seventeen years old,
Very charming young man.
I sit down quietly in lotus position,
Meditating, meditating for nothing.
Suddenly a voice comes to me:
"To stay young,
To save the world,
Break the mirror."
Nanao Sakaki
