Lent Day 30 "30 Days to make a habit"

I have heard that it takes 30 days to make a new habit and make it stick.  I have done well for the first two weeks or so, but sort of fell off the wagon fell off about halfway here.  Not that I haven't thought about it or forgotten to do it on days, but have at least made a thought or an attempt--which is not writing, but is part of the futile effort of that thing called writer's block.  It is either lack of ideas, lack of gumption, or abject fear.  And the greatest of these is fear.  

There are only two weeks to go, and I feel the need to finish strong.  Consider me recommitting myself.  

Thank you!

Lent Day 27 "Discourse not Discord"

I am a bit of a news junkie.  I like being up on the goings-on of the world around me, and having issues presented for me to decide how to interpret and react to them.  


Unfortunately, my joy at the news has been tempered over the last few years by the increasingly shrill and sensationalized nonsense which passes for journalistic genius.  Either the drivel has gotten worse, I have gotten more mature and more highly exacting of the information I consume, or (and most likely) a combination of both.  Somewhere between work, theatre, church, friends, and other concerns and obligations I have less time to devote to keeping up with the world around me.  Compounding the unimpressive content, the commercial interruptions simply make the entire effort less and less worth undertaking.  l simply cannot stomach the continued lies, told at louder and louder volume--either in the show or the commercials--and told with such sincerity that you almost want to believe the teller, even though you know that they are telling only what they think people want to hear so that they can keep their job.  Discussion has devolved into the soundbyte and pandering, rather than addressing one another, and arguments, with respect.  No one can reach a deeper level, toward discourse, because the entire 2-minute exercise devolves into ad hominem attacks (again pandering to those who already agree with the speaker).  


I can barely take the local news long enough to get the weather report, and worry that my mute button or alternate channel button will wear out!  

Lent Day 23 "I'm too freaking tired"

Been a couple of crazybusy days.  I'll be back tomorrow with something scintillating.

Lent Day 21 "Back in the saddle"

I fell off the wagon for a couple of days (or took a hiatus for my birthday), whichever....

I just found out today that a college classmate of mine died today.  She was less than a year older than me.  I didn't know her well, and had only superficially reconnected with her via Facebook recently.  It was through that same network that I heard about her passing, and left a condolence note on her wall for her friends and family to see.

I often see recriminations of the inappropriateness of online communication: that it is insufficient and puerile, that it cheapens friendships, or that it does not foster deeper connections and understanding.  In many ways, those criticisms do hold truth, but they forget the benefit of collected communication, however superficial it may be.  Through that forum, there can be a collective wake in geographic diversity.  I will continue to value online connections, no matter how pale they seem in comparison to in-face interactions.

Lent Day 18 "Brainstorming II"

 Scene 1: (Indifference)

Hostess gift from a visiting friend.

I have no more brain power.  Story to continue at a later date.

Lent Day 17 "Four Gifts"

Brainstorming for the play idea that I have in my head:

Working title (pretty firm): Four Gifts

Premise: Exploring the reactions to gifts.  The same gift gets given to four different people, causing disparate reactions.  The gift is abstract, not known to the audience (though small enough to fit into a box), audience should not see it.  The object is not important, and would only distract from the greater themes and story being explored.

Reason for telling story: Explore the difference between a gift that enhances the recipient's life and something that is of more use to the giver.  The purpose of gift/ parable of gift.

Structure:  Four scenes--interconnected vignettes.  The gift processes through several regifting scenarios, with various reactions.  Possibly returns to the original giver?  Reaction genres: 1. disappointment/ sadness, 2. wonder/ joy, 3. indifference, 4. anger.  Should be refrains or similar lines throughout to highlight various reactions.  Gift comes across as Grand Gesture, inappropriate, ideal, amusing, useless, or overthought.

References or sources: Othello, 4 gospels (bible), 4 noble truths of buddhism, magi, birthdays, housewarming, wedding, Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa, baby shower.

Characters: Each scene will have at least 3, actors will play multiple roles.  Each scene will have someone from the previous scene to give it connectedness and continuity.

Much more writing to follow.

Lent Day 16 "Two weeks"

After just a little more than two weeks of setting myself the goal of writing every day, and then actually mostly having done so, I am impressed with the results that I am already seeing.

Often, I will get a bug in my head about something, needing to do something a different way, wanting to add something to make me a better me.  I'll be all fervent about it for a while (eating better, exercising), but after a few days or weeks, the initial blush of interest and rush of change wears off, and I return to exactly the same pattern I had before I attempted to make the change.  This assignment/ change/ self-discipline has been different.  It has engaged a part of me that had been screaming to get out and be put to use.  It has also started to change how I interact with the world.  No longer do I just pass by things and perhaps have a passing thought or sense of curiosity about some object or incident or person, but I start to note the mental spark and catalog it for later (special thanks again to my hubby for the wonderful journal as a repository for those jottings).  I have also started to look beyond just passing through the world and being in it and of it into more of a sense of being in the world and also being able to comment on it.  The mental jottings (and physical jottings) have been a very important exercise for my creativity.  No longer is it just an interesting footprint in the snow (see entry from 2.26), but possibly the start of a character sketch, or the entree into a deeper and wider world.  (the shoeprint I saw really did look like the walker overpronates!).

Thank you to all of you who have continued to read on this journey with me and share your reactions.  We all still have a long way to go on this Lenten Journey, and I look forward to continuing it!

Lent Day 15 "Tokyo"

I have written previously about my trip to Japan and the sheer beauty I enjoyed there.  I was 11 when we arrived there (12th birthday during the trip--but that may just be another entry), and it was the first time that I had been out of the country.  My grandmother had gotten a wild burr in her head to travel to Japan, and decided that she wanted to take me with her.  My teachers at the time (yay for good Maryland schools) understood that I would learn far more by experiencing that trip than I would spending the time in their classes, so they created some extended assignments for me, and wished me a good journey.

So, Gramma and I packed up and left for Japan in mid-February, 1991.  It was the height of the first Gulf War, and there were hefty (suggested) restrictions on travel, especially by the Japanese government and the US.  When our flight left LA for Tokyo, there were a total of 11 passengers.  It was the longest flight I had ever been on, expected to be 14 hours.  I still have the pack of Delta Airlines playing cards which were given to me by a flight attendant.  The fortunate thing about so empty of a flight was that you could take one of the middle sections of the seats, flip up all the arms, and stretch out and sleep like it was a couch.  I awoke just before we arrived in Tokyo, where it was almost night.  The sun set behind buildings festooned with miraculous displays of neon.  I remember being on the 22cd floor of the hotel, and because I had already slept so much on the plane, I wasn't particularly tired.  So, I climbed into the bay window in our room and watched the flashing lights of the city that lay below me.  I know that I slept some that night, but woke up long before dawn being greatly hungry.  Since Gramma hadn't woken up yet, I again went to the bay window and looked out on the city.  Some clouds had moved in, bringing a slight snow flurry with them.  Due to the updraft caused by the city heat, the light flakes drifted upwards against our window.  I sat, mouth agape, watching until the lightening sky indicated that the sun was rising behind the flat, grey bank of clouds.  Not knowing about updrafts and wind patterns and the general lightness of snow, I marveled at how completely separated I was from the world that I knew.  Here was a land of brightly flashing light, where even the weather moved differently.  In that very moment, I felt so alone and insignificant, but so interested and curious about this great new world I was visiting.

Lent Day 14 "Baseball"

I alluded yesterday to our national pastime, the magnificent sport of baseball.  As I type right now, the first day of Spring Training games in the grapefruit league are drawing to a close.  (Darn, Mets are beating the Braves...).

There is a poetic rhythm to a baseball game, elongated tercets of time where spring, summer, and fall air whisper promises of excitement at every pitch.  Every swing of the bat could mean glory for the next 24 hours.  Sun accentuates the bold colors of player, dirt, and grass into eye-watering contrast.  Vast blocks of green, white, and dirt support a humming joy of spectator and participant alike.

Here is, without doubt, my favorite baseball movie scene:

Lent Day 13 "March"

March is one of my top 12 favorite months.  In the south where I grew up, it is generally rainy and breezy and cool.  There were occasional snowstorms, but mostly it was warming up by then.  The month started with daffodils, bradford pears, plum trees, crocuses, and forsythia.  It progressed through to tulips, deciduous magnolias, cherry trees, and dogwood.  Everything comes to life in March.  The first shoots of leaves start to emerge on trees, days get longer--the tipping point where there is more light than dark in the day.

March is my birth month.  I love the daffodil, the flower of the month.  I love the aquamarine, the March birthstone.  Normally, I'm not too much in favor of pastels, but that nascent, emerging color of the first leaves and early flowers represents so much potential after the drab and dank sleeping colors of the long winter.  It's as though nature wants to warm you up to the idea of color before showing off the garish irises, crepe myrtles, rhododendrons, and flame azaleas of the later season.

March is also the beginning of Spring Training games in Major League Baseball--the third best sport in the world (behind table tennis and college football).  The grapefruit and cactus leagues get hot and we start to dream about overpriced cheap hotdogs and the smell of peanuts and beer while we yell at umpires.

Yes, there are only 12 months--there is something about every one of them that makes them my favorite for different things.  But March is my favorite of my favorites!

Lent Day 12 "Gifts"

I have an idea for a play rattling around in my head, about different reactions to presents.  I am still working out the outline and plan of it, but I hope to post a couple of scenes throughout the process.

I have come to the point where I despise the hype surrounding the acts of getting and receiving gifts.  It seems so much about spending more than you can afford to buy something for someone who doesn't want or need it.  We have become subsumed by the Grand Gesture, and the grand gesture has become commonplace.  Commercials attempt to convince us that our women will only love us if they receive the latest shlocky, overpriced, ill-designed settings for chips of diamonds (my hubby knows that if he ever "went to Jared" that he'd be going back, because that shit is butt-ugly).  On the other side, it would seem that the only acceptable gifts for men are either stinky cologne or electronics (I think my Jared rule would apply were I not to allow my wonderful hubby to pick out his own gadgets and toys).

If the thought is supposed to be the point of a gift, then please give people a card, rather than spending two month's salary on something the recipient of your gift cannot use.

Funky socks are an acceptable substitute!

Lent Day 11 "Personal Block"

I don't feel like writing today.  Be back tomorrow.

Lent Day 10 "Whose Shoes"

The footsteps stretched out ahead of me, frozen into the fresh layer of snow.  I studied each of them as I passed.  The tread on the shoes did not look capable of making traction on such slippery ground covering, but there were no slashes through it to indicate loss of balance.  The shoes seem to have a pimpled bottom, with a tread pattern showing a habit of overpronation--I felt sorry for the shoe owner's knees.  The wind had not yet dulled their definition with blown flakes, indicating that the track had been made recently.

I looked ahead.  The path trodden by those shoes stretched out in front of me, wavering along the path I intended to take.  The deep angle of the sun gave the snow a pitted surface, a miniaturized lunar landscape of glowing peaks and darkened chasms.  The sort of creaking caused by branches rubbing together that only occurs in deep cold played in my ears.  I shaded my eyes against the reflected glare, turned and walked on, following the steps as they advanced inexorably in front of me.

Continued in a subsequent posting...

Lent Day 9 "Words"

I have started preparing to take the GRE.  I am writing for Lent.  I have seen 4-5 different notations or requests or bemusements about the changing of word meanings, whether that be denotative or connotative. Perhaps Eliza Doolittle said/ sang it best, "Words, words, words! / I'm so sick of words/ I get words all day through/ first from him/ now from you/ is that all you blighters can do?"

Who was the first caveman or -woman to point at something, grunt, and then decide that that specific grunt would be the same grunt, always, for fire, or mastadon, or "you idiot, that sabre-toothed thingy is about to eat you"?  Words are a bit like currency.  The only value that they have is what a group of people has decided to give them.

What got me onto this thought is the box of 500 vocabulary word flash cards for GRE vocabulary.  So far, I have seen many of the words in use, and know/ knew what they mean when I have read them in a sentence.  But most of the time, I have a hard time coming up with a denotative definition.  Perhaps this says more about my learning style than it says about my understanding of vocabulary, but on a test where I won't always have context into which to put these words, it is helpful for me to look at what those words mean in their purest definition.  I have also found a couple of words which I have been using inappropriately for many years.  Whoops.

Lent Day 8 "Shinto"

So we start production meetings today for Paragon's next show, Sound of a Voice by David Henry Hwang.  For the uninitiated: it is a play written by a Chinese-American, based on an amalgamate fable from the Japanese Noh theatre and Shinto religion.

On one hand, it's been a fascinating trip back through memories and memorabilia from when my grandmother took me to Japan when I was 12. On the other, it has been fascinating to take the time to study the culture and religion so that they make a cogent and reasoned explanation of the work (for the study guide) to a largely Western audience.

Japan is GORGEOUS.  I would return there over and over again so that I could spend time in the countryside appreciating the beauty of it.  Every flower is a little poem; every brook and waterfall an epic tale.  In autumn, the trees die a million deaths, one for each leaf that falls. 

It is that beauty that largely informs the basis of the Shinto religion.  Shinto belief is in the spirit of everything around us, that trees and happy-little-squirrels and people all have spirits which continue on after the shell dies.  There is also a purification rite by which people are ritually cleansed by salt and water (salt water, how appropriate for an island nation), which when I read about it made me wonder just how many religions have a tradition of purification by water, and what that means in terms of universality.  I will investigate more (and probably reread Plato's Euthyphro) and report back.  Right now, I am too tired.

Lent Day 7 "Shooting"

I was in college in the late 90s when there was a terrifying spate of school shootings.  My friends and I would sit in the lobby of our dorm and watch the gruesome details unfold.  The worst of these days was of course the day of Columbine.  We were transfixed.  Barely able to tear ourselves away from the big screen to get dinner at the dining hall.  The afternoon was subdued, images of bleeding students jumping from windows continually flashing before us.  People missed tests, sitting transfixed in the lobby of a dorm in Georgia while kids in Colorado fought for their very lives.

In the years to come, the terms Columbine, Littleton, Harris, and Klebold became buzzwords for senseless violence and misdirected teen angst.  When I heard today that there had been a shooting at a school just down the street from Columbine High School, all those memories came flooding back.  Fortunately, the shooting today did not kill anyone, nor was the shooting by an angst-ridden student who cannot figure out any better outlet for their internal pain than to take it out on everyone around them, with deadly results.

I pray for all those hurt today, and for all those who will be hurt again when someone takes out their own pain on others.

Lent Day 6: "Still Small Voice"

When we persevere with the help of a gentle discipline, we slowly come to hear the still, small voice and to feel the delicate breeze, and so to come to know the presence of Love.

Henri Nouwen

Prayer is an important activity for me.  I construct and use Anglican Rosaries (such as the one at right) as a tool to still my mind and allow me to listen for the still small voice.

Here is a prayer setting which I made up for myself, based on the peace prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi:

Prayer Bead Prayer of St. Francis

First circuit:

Inv:

Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not

So much seek to be consoled as to console;

Cru

O Lord, make me an instrument of Thy Peace!

Weeks

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is discord, harmony.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sorrow, joy.

Second circuit:

Inv

Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not

So much seek to be understood as to understand

Cru and Weeks as before

Third Circuit

Inv

Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not

So much seek to be loved as to love

Cru and Weeks as before

Cross

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life."

Lent Day 5 "Staleness"

We live in a world of instant connection.  Puerile, but instant.  In fact, we are practically bombarded by information: news sites, Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, Blogger (just like this!), email, newsfeeds, "breaking news", infotainment, never-ending analyses of the octomom and other 15-minute celebrities, 200 channels of TV, and 24 hour sports.  It is practically cacophonous.  Especially online, the feast for the eyes, with advertising and news articles and status updates and tweets, can overwhelm even the most internet-addicted.  And with so much to look at, each posting takes up that much less space in the interest of readers.  It's to the point that items more than 24 hours old are considered stale and uninteresting.  Sometimes, it's items more than 6-8 hours old.

Happy first Sunday of Lent!

Lent Day 4 "True companionship"

I want to thank everyone who has been reading and responding.  Feedback is greatly helpful in this undertaking.  You have been great friends.


There are several ways of defining a friend:


"A friend is someone who knows everything about you, and likes you anyways"


"A friend will help you move; a true friend will help you move a body"


"Friends are those rare people who ask how you are and then wait for the answer"


"The language of friendship is not words but meanings"


"A true friend is one who thinks you are a good egg even if you are half-cracked"


"If you want a friend in Washington [D. C.], get a dog"


I am (often quite obviously so) an extrovert.  I gain energy while in the company of others, and thrive off interaction.  I love to go out with friends and have great conversations, an activity in which my friends very kindly indulge.  To have friends around me and to support my friends is a great joy.


What would you do for a friend?  Jesus says "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13).  I find that to be a pretty tall order, and if the moment were to come where that would be an option, I honestly do not know what I would do.  Of course, giving up your life is only the extreme example of what we would do for a friend.  Sometimes, it is just giving up an evening when a friend has had a bad day to cheer them up.  Taking the time to celebrate with them when something has gone well.  Like my pal above, my companion who gets in between me and my computer, a friend helps you to shoulder your burden.  This one even purrs!

Lent Day 3 "Thoughts at a Snowy Bus Stop"

The snow has stopped descending

She waits; clouds reaching, trying to touch her

No one stirs

Slumbering air muffles all sounds

No crunch, no creak, no crescendo

No one starts

The cold has ceased moving

He settles into crevices

No one feels

The light peeks wanly through

touching heads and hearts in passing

Who will answer?

Lent Day 2 "Prepay for our Baggage"

So, knowing that I was planning to take on this writing project for Lent, my super-wonderful hubby purchased the notebook at left for me as a Valentine's Day present.  Purple cats.  Rawk!!!  It will be a great resource for jotting down those random ideas I want to investigate further as I go through this process.  

The first note that I made in it, yesterday, came to me while I was researching flight prices for an upcoming trip to San Francisco and the California coast (family reunion in June).  It reads "Pre-pay for our baggage".  Now, in the course of shopping travel expenses anymore, that seems just a reasonable note to self about process of purchasing airline tickets and budgeting for a trip.  Unless you are flying Southworst or carrying on luggage, this is one more fee airlines have decided to add to keep their ticket prices artificially low.  I disagree fervently with the execution of it--just add the price into the ticket already and cease nickel-and-diming your customers.  .  If I have to pay the fee, at least on many airlines, I can prepay it at the time I purchase the tickets.  It does make it easier and alleviates the annoyance somewhat.  So, to make a short story long, I jotted down that note because I wanted to make a deeper investigation of "baggage" not as just the stack of essentials one bundles up to take with them on a trip, but the metaphoric sense of how we carry our pasts around without regard for how they cost us in our currents and our futures. 

Wouldn't it be easier in many things if we could prepay for the load of crap that we often bring into relationships?  Rather than having to pay extra when we check in to our friends and families, and they find us carrying more than they think we should; should we not be open, honest, and carry our baggage without pretext?  

Yesterday, I alluded to the desire to write, but without clear direction of what that means; nor did I set a specific goal other than making a daily composition.  At this time, I am not sure that anything more than that goal is necessary.  For now, the goal of changing the habit so that writing becomes something I do daily, and whether the output is a poem, a monologue, a reflection, or short fiction does not yet matter.  In fact, most of the early writings will probably consist of personal reflections (meandering maunderings?).  I had a playwriting instructor in college who encouraged us to figure out our beliefs and enhance our understandings before we started to layer those beliefs in metaphor and literary conceit.  So, I need to remind myself of what I know and believe before I can obfuscate it too far in staged conversations.

A blessed second day of the journey in the wilderness.  

Lenten Writing.

The season of Lent is upon us all.  For many that means denying yourself something you reallyreally enjoy (chocolate, potato chips, television, alcohol, Facebook, or other vices) as a method of removing obstacles between yourself and the life you want to have (or the life that you think God(de) wants you to have).  I think this is the wrong way of going about it, because it puts all the energy into thinking about what you are denying.  If you want to remove the obstacles between yourself and the life you want, then you should put your energy into adding things to your life to move toward that goal.  By concentrating on your goal, and putting energy into it, you naturally move away from what is keeping you from it.  In other words, put so much virtu (greek word for excellence) into your life that the vice has no room to grow.

Hm... perhaps an analogy (parable) would be helpful?  Okay, imagine that you are a juggler.  You are juggling away with 3 balls (pins, clubs, scarves, whatever) in a regular pattern.  Another person (since Lent/ the Spirit could be seen as an outside force) starts throwing additional balls into your pattern.  You have three choices: either to assimilate the additional ball into your juggling pattern (going from 3 balls to 4 and so on), to drop one of your original balls and carry on with the new one, or to let the new ball bounce off your head and ignore it completely.  The first two outcomes are the purpose of Lent: either you add the new thing to your life and drop something else, or you assimilate it and continue on--recognizing that your pattern and your attention have shifted.

I have long had sort of a very back-burner pipe dream of making myself a writer.  I happen to think that I am decently good at it, and have ideas that are worth communicating.  But one cannot be a writer without (drumroll please) actually sitting my lazy butt down and writing.  Much like an actor needs to rehearse or a pitcher needs to practice, so does anyone who wants to write need to exercise their writing skills by doing.  So, I am taking this Lent as an opportunity to set myself the goal of writing daily (even if it turns into blithering drivel!!) and see where it takes me.

My hope for this activity of Lent is that I do not just let this activity bounce off my head and ignore it--which is where all of you who are so very kindly still reading come in.  I want you to keep me honest and keep throwing balls at me.  If you haven't seen something come through in a while, please feel free to chuck something at me to get me going again.

Thank you, and a blessed Lent unto you all.

Sarah