An extra request from The Husband. In general, having stupidity met with a neverending backhand sounds like a good idea, but I love the specificity (although I cannot pronounce 'specificity') of asking the Mighty Nothingness to collar four idiots who perpetrated an idiotic crime, and one that is plain embarassing to fellow humans.
Boston, we still love ya. I'm WELL aware that NYC has its share of people who do dumb things (see: former Governor Spitzer, for one). And sure, was it smart to wear the Yankee cap into the bar? No. But was it about a thousand times stupider to beat someone to a pulp because he likes a sports team you don't like, according to his hat? Yes, a thousand times stupider. And assault-ier, and crime-ier, and hopefully jail-time-ier.
EDIT: And one more thing. On the long list of How To Fight Fair, kicking someone in the head while he lies on the ground is at the absolute bottom. Cowards.
From The Husband:
When you have a moment, would you please ask the Universe to identify to the Boston PD the four idiots in the article below? Not because they are Boston fans, but because this sort of thing needs to stop and maybe an arrest and actual time served might do SOMETHING to deter others. Crap like fanatics and mob mentality actually makes me nauseous.
Today's Sports Idiocy, courtesy of Pregame.com .
Red Sox Fans Send Yankee Fan to Hospital
by RJ_Bell on 03/09/2008 9:03 AM
(from the web) Cambridge - The official start to the 2008 baseball season is about a month away, but the age-old rivalry between the Yankees and Red Sox is already getting ugly.
A group of men some with Irish accents beat up a 23-year-old Cambridge man and sent him to the hospital after they spotted him sporting a Yankees baseball cap.
Witnesses told police the group of apparent diehard Red Sox fans beat up the victims after an argument inside a Central Square bar. The group then ran away on Mass. Ave. towards Harvard Square.
The Yankees fan was transported to the hospital March 2 at 1:41 a.m. for medical treatment for head injuries, including swelling over his entire face and several facial cuts, according to police reports.
The victims sobbing girlfriend told police the couple went to the Cantab Lounge at 738 Mass. Ave. midnight Saturday. The couple was inside the bar for a while when a large group of people came up to them and started arguing with the victim because he was wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap, according to police reports.
The couple left the bar without further confrontation, but the group allegedly followed them outside on the street as they walked home, according to reports.
Then the mob of Red Sox fans allegedly threw the victim to the ground and repeatedly kicked him. The girlfriend and a couple of women who were with the suspects unsuccessfully tried to pull the Red Sox fans off the victim, according to police reports.
The victim told police he could not clearly remember what happened and only recalled getting into an argument about his baseball cap, leaving the bar and lying on the ground while the men kicked him in the head.
The attackers are described as four white men. One of the men was last seen wearing a blue and white striped shirt.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Yawp Gets Returned
A beautiful gift came into my email inbox this morning. It is a gift to PB from a fellow traveler, a gift to you, and certainly a gift to me because I'm still fighting a bad cold and can't get my whoses and whatsis together enought to write anything intelligent, plus the cold medicine makes me feel like I'm typing with my elbows. It is a rumination from my beloved RR, and reminded me that in additional to all the other logical magic she brings to me on a regular basis, she's a knockout of a writer.
The open call still stands, folks, and it has resulted in at least one other guest post that I'm hoping will be ready to go up by tomorrow. Be well.
-----
From MBRR:
Having been in PB's shoes, or at least similar places of flux, at various times in my life, I can understand what she is going through. Closing your eyes and taking a giant leap of faith to change your life always has repercussions, but unfortunately they aren't always the one's we think they will be when our feet first leave the ground. When those repercussions turn out to be not what you planned, it can make you want to shake your fist at the universe. Come on, universe! You want to say, I did the hard part already! I made the decision. I landed here. Now it is your turn to bring serendipity to my side. Consciousness and mindfulness, rather than acquiescence to the status quo brought me this far, now I should be rewarded for my bravery. Shouldn't I?
I have been contemplating this question in particular for the last several days because I too recently made a decision to take my life in a certain direction, one that I felt was right in my gut. Yet I have been faced with the harsh reality that the universe has more or less taken my decision and thrown it back in my face. For 3 days I have been railing inside- my thoughts black and spiteful and unproductive. Ef you, universe- and Ef your mother, too! I have been eaten by the unfairness of it all. Everyone, and I mean everyone I know agreed that the decision to do a PhD was the right one for me. People who have known me a long time said they always thought that I would, and wondered why it took me so long to figure it out. People at my job said absolutely. It is the right path for you. Academics told me I was a virtual shoe-in, what with my experience, grades, and knowledge. I was a rare candidate, indeed. Universities would probably throw money at me and beg me to come study. And so I was sure. My gut told me it was the right way to go. And I had external validation and support for my decision. What other signs could there have been, or could I have read? And yet, here I am. 3 out of 4 applications rejected. One more pending and not a shoe-in or a sure thing by any means.
And so while I wait for magic #4, I have been forced to deal with the question that I really never thought would come up. What will I do if I don't get in? Some people have suggested that I wait and re-apply next year. This seems to be how the game of graduate school gets played these days. And re-applying may be a test from the universe about how loud my gut was really speaking to me. If it is the right path, the universe seems to be saying, you can wait. And yet, I can't. Maybe others can, but I cannot. I went through a huge amount of personal upheaval to arrive at this decision, and I am just about worn out. Doing the PhD was to be the new path, the one I chose after almost 2 years of hard soul searching and heart wrenching decisions of all kinds. It was to be the answer I tore the rest of my life apart looking to find. Now I just don't have the stamina to wait another year, and go through another round of applications, to have it come out wrong all over again. I just don't think I have it in me.
Nevertheless, once I decided that the PhD was the path I wanted, I came to see it as not just the answer to what I would do, but the answer in some way to who I am. For the last year, since I decided that it is what I would do, I have held the decision and the idea of it close to my chest, and defended it as a part of my identity- the true identity I had been growing into for all these years. My chance to become the woman I always knew I could be. And in the waiting, I have gone into some dark places. Each rejection a personal affront, and my life hanging before me like a butterfly inside a cocoon, doomed to be forever unrealized.
Today though, I realized something for the first time. Whether I do or whether I don't get accepted, a PhD is not who I am. I am not the sum total of the knowledge I possess, the opportunities I have been given, the rejections I have received. I am also not how I look on paper; I am not the deficiencies on my resume, nor the antithesis to those who have gotten what I wanted. I am not the praise I have been given, nor the shock of others who were also convinced I would get in. I am greater than all these things, and all these moments. And I am enough. As I am, with all the knowledge, and experience, and education I already have. I am enough. Somewhere in the universe there is a place for me to pursue and create the life of the butterfly I am capable of becoming. Even if it doesn't turn out to be where and as I, and my gut, thought it should be. All I can do is trust that the universe knows better than I what my fate should be.
So what is it that has tossed around for me about PB's post? I guess it was that I wanted to say to her, let go a little. Desperation won't help, but money is the same color no matter where it comes from. Take a job waiting tables if you have to. Sign up with every temp agency you can find. In desperate times, any job can be the job, until the right one comes. In the meantime, remember that the money that feeds you, isn't who you are. And just to show that I know all this is easier said than done, I once worked folding shirts and greeting customers at The Gap, even though I had a master's degree and 5 years professional experience in my back pocket. I needed money badly, and I couldn't face receiving unemployment. After a month, I left the shirts to start the job that, 7 years later, is my career.
Finally, for both PB and myself, the mantra I have been trying to hold onto in a very uncertain time is a quote from Rilke. "...And for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, in any case."For PB and myself, I sincerely hope we both get what we want, but even if we don't, none of us is only our wishes or desires, realized or not. We exist outside of wanting. And we are enough.
The open call still stands, folks, and it has resulted in at least one other guest post that I'm hoping will be ready to go up by tomorrow. Be well.
-----
From MBRR:
Having been in PB's shoes, or at least similar places of flux, at various times in my life, I can understand what she is going through. Closing your eyes and taking a giant leap of faith to change your life always has repercussions, but unfortunately they aren't always the one's we think they will be when our feet first leave the ground. When those repercussions turn out to be not what you planned, it can make you want to shake your fist at the universe. Come on, universe! You want to say, I did the hard part already! I made the decision. I landed here. Now it is your turn to bring serendipity to my side. Consciousness and mindfulness, rather than acquiescence to the status quo brought me this far, now I should be rewarded for my bravery. Shouldn't I?
I have been contemplating this question in particular for the last several days because I too recently made a decision to take my life in a certain direction, one that I felt was right in my gut. Yet I have been faced with the harsh reality that the universe has more or less taken my decision and thrown it back in my face. For 3 days I have been railing inside- my thoughts black and spiteful and unproductive. Ef you, universe- and Ef your mother, too! I have been eaten by the unfairness of it all. Everyone, and I mean everyone I know agreed that the decision to do a PhD was the right one for me. People who have known me a long time said they always thought that I would, and wondered why it took me so long to figure it out. People at my job said absolutely. It is the right path for you. Academics told me I was a virtual shoe-in, what with my experience, grades, and knowledge. I was a rare candidate, indeed. Universities would probably throw money at me and beg me to come study. And so I was sure. My gut told me it was the right way to go. And I had external validation and support for my decision. What other signs could there have been, or could I have read? And yet, here I am. 3 out of 4 applications rejected. One more pending and not a shoe-in or a sure thing by any means.
And so while I wait for magic #4, I have been forced to deal with the question that I really never thought would come up. What will I do if I don't get in? Some people have suggested that I wait and re-apply next year. This seems to be how the game of graduate school gets played these days. And re-applying may be a test from the universe about how loud my gut was really speaking to me. If it is the right path, the universe seems to be saying, you can wait. And yet, I can't. Maybe others can, but I cannot. I went through a huge amount of personal upheaval to arrive at this decision, and I am just about worn out. Doing the PhD was to be the new path, the one I chose after almost 2 years of hard soul searching and heart wrenching decisions of all kinds. It was to be the answer I tore the rest of my life apart looking to find. Now I just don't have the stamina to wait another year, and go through another round of applications, to have it come out wrong all over again. I just don't think I have it in me.
Nevertheless, once I decided that the PhD was the path I wanted, I came to see it as not just the answer to what I would do, but the answer in some way to who I am. For the last year, since I decided that it is what I would do, I have held the decision and the idea of it close to my chest, and defended it as a part of my identity- the true identity I had been growing into for all these years. My chance to become the woman I always knew I could be. And in the waiting, I have gone into some dark places. Each rejection a personal affront, and my life hanging before me like a butterfly inside a cocoon, doomed to be forever unrealized.
Today though, I realized something for the first time. Whether I do or whether I don't get accepted, a PhD is not who I am. I am not the sum total of the knowledge I possess, the opportunities I have been given, the rejections I have received. I am also not how I look on paper; I am not the deficiencies on my resume, nor the antithesis to those who have gotten what I wanted. I am not the praise I have been given, nor the shock of others who were also convinced I would get in. I am greater than all these things, and all these moments. And I am enough. As I am, with all the knowledge, and experience, and education I already have. I am enough. Somewhere in the universe there is a place for me to pursue and create the life of the butterfly I am capable of becoming. Even if it doesn't turn out to be where and as I, and my gut, thought it should be. All I can do is trust that the universe knows better than I what my fate should be.
So what is it that has tossed around for me about PB's post? I guess it was that I wanted to say to her, let go a little. Desperation won't help, but money is the same color no matter where it comes from. Take a job waiting tables if you have to. Sign up with every temp agency you can find. In desperate times, any job can be the job, until the right one comes. In the meantime, remember that the money that feeds you, isn't who you are. And just to show that I know all this is easier said than done, I once worked folding shirts and greeting customers at The Gap, even though I had a master's degree and 5 years professional experience in my back pocket. I needed money badly, and I couldn't face receiving unemployment. After a month, I left the shirts to start the job that, 7 years later, is my career.
Finally, for both PB and myself, the mantra I have been trying to hold onto in a very uncertain time is a quote from Rilke. "...And for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, in any case."For PB and myself, I sincerely hope we both get what we want, but even if we don't, none of us is only our wishes or desires, realized or not. We exist outside of wanting. And we are enough.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Universe, Please Make Me a Cup of Tea
I'm taking the day off, fighting off a cold after much excitement the weekend of my son's third birthday. Be well. I'll try to post tomorrow.
Friday, March 14, 2008
A Yawp For PB
In response for my open call to get on the bullhorn, my friend PB asked me to give the Universe a yawp for her.
PB is an awesome chick, a cool girl in the grrrrrl sense, a deep thinker, a friend to broken animals and a Dharma Punk. She has been a good friend to me and my husband, and particularly to my three year old son, who she calls The Dude.
PB followed Love and Her Heart down the Right Coast to from New York to Florida early this year but, so far, Money hasn't gotten on board for the ride.
As she put it to me: "Please ask the universe to help me find work, so I can help others and myself .. . Everything has been so wonderful in my world for the last few months that maybe its not fair for me to ask for more, but I need a job. It's starting to mess with my self worth and confidence."
And let me note that it's absolutely fair to ask for more. It's fair to be whole and well and working and living. When one person gets to the top, they can help the other people making the climb. (PB, I hope that imagery appeals to your Macchu Pichu climbing self and doesn't register too high on the schmalz-ometer).
So, Universe, please give PB what she wants and what will benefit so many other people -- a job. A job as a yoga instructor would be ideal, but any job that she will be served by and will allow her to serve others would be fine. She'll know it when she sees it, but as you know, circumstances are getting more dire as the days go on. Please untie her from the train tracks and get her new life moving forward, especially she has taken such a big and brave leap to get said new life in the first place.
PB is an awesome chick, a cool girl in the grrrrrl sense, a deep thinker, a friend to broken animals and a Dharma Punk. She has been a good friend to me and my husband, and particularly to my three year old son, who she calls The Dude.
PB followed Love and Her Heart down the Right Coast to from New York to Florida early this year but, so far, Money hasn't gotten on board for the ride.
As she put it to me: "Please ask the universe to help me find work, so I can help others and myself .. . Everything has been so wonderful in my world for the last few months that maybe its not fair for me to ask for more, but I need a job. It's starting to mess with my self worth and confidence."
And let me note that it's absolutely fair to ask for more. It's fair to be whole and well and working and living. When one person gets to the top, they can help the other people making the climb. (PB, I hope that imagery appeals to your Macchu Pichu climbing self and doesn't register too high on the schmalz-ometer).
So, Universe, please give PB what she wants and what will benefit so many other people -- a job. A job as a yoga instructor would be ideal, but any job that she will be served by and will allow her to serve others would be fine. She'll know it when she sees it, but as you know, circumstances are getting more dire as the days go on. Please untie her from the train tracks and get her new life moving forward, especially she has taken such a big and brave leap to get said new life in the first place.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Guest Post: What We Put In The Ground
Today’s post is excerpted from a recent email I received from my friend E, a fantastic writer and a fantastic person. It was inspired in part by a recent entry here. While I am like a puppy faced with a truckload of bones when it comes to praise (more please, no, really, more), I am posting this with her permission mainly because I find it so touching and beautifully written. Identifying and other details have been removed. Thank you, E.
---------
Yesterday while stretching after a particularly strenuous run I realized that my neck, which had not been troubling me during the run, was totally aching. It came when I tried to lower my head to the ground, bending forwards, to place my hands there and ease open the muscles in the backs of my legs.
The fact is that earlier this year, I learned that the bones in my neck were not stacking up in the way that they should. Like some kind of nearly-toppling tower, they were too unsteady to do their job. To help, my neck muscles were in a state of spasm, trying to keep things upright. Good intentions, bad results. So when the pain started while I was bending over, I at least knew what it was: my neck muscles, trying, as usual, to keep my head on.
When I first got the diagnosis, I called my husband. “I can’t hold my head up,” I said. “You couldn’t invent a better condition for me at this moment.” His mother died a year ago while we sat beside her in the house that she raised him in, the house that we now live in. We lost her at the end of a period during which we watched and heard lung cancer make its way up to her neck. For the entirety of her illness and the period that followed, when I watched my husband’s heart break, I did not feel I could hold my head up at all.
Yesterday, when I tried to lower myself towards the floor of this room, in this apartment where a woman I loved very much raised two children that I love very much, one of whom I married, I realized that my neck was working too hard, working against me as I tried to place my hands on the ground.
I thought of the entry you had done about this, about why we place our hands on the ground and what it means. I thought that it is terribly important how we get to the ground. I was bending over but my neck was craning out, like a not very intelligent ostrich. I could not let it hang.
I stood up again, and did the kind of thing that I have a body memory of from being in first grade, kindergarten, having kind teachers and a rubbery little self. I rolled my spine one vertebrae at a time down and when my head wanted to turtle its way out I thought no, just let it go.
When I got to place my hands on the ground, all of me was there. My head had come along for the ride, too. I was alone in the house that we’d been fighting to bring back to life after this impossible year, and had my hands on the ground giving something back. It was quite beautiful and it was a moment that you helped to create with your writing, which was with me as I leaned over and let go.
---------
Yesterday while stretching after a particularly strenuous run I realized that my neck, which had not been troubling me during the run, was totally aching. It came when I tried to lower my head to the ground, bending forwards, to place my hands there and ease open the muscles in the backs of my legs.
The fact is that earlier this year, I learned that the bones in my neck were not stacking up in the way that they should. Like some kind of nearly-toppling tower, they were too unsteady to do their job. To help, my neck muscles were in a state of spasm, trying to keep things upright. Good intentions, bad results. So when the pain started while I was bending over, I at least knew what it was: my neck muscles, trying, as usual, to keep my head on.
When I first got the diagnosis, I called my husband. “I can’t hold my head up,” I said. “You couldn’t invent a better condition for me at this moment.” His mother died a year ago while we sat beside her in the house that she raised him in, the house that we now live in. We lost her at the end of a period during which we watched and heard lung cancer make its way up to her neck. For the entirety of her illness and the period that followed, when I watched my husband’s heart break, I did not feel I could hold my head up at all.
Yesterday, when I tried to lower myself towards the floor of this room, in this apartment where a woman I loved very much raised two children that I love very much, one of whom I married, I realized that my neck was working too hard, working against me as I tried to place my hands on the ground.
I thought of the entry you had done about this, about why we place our hands on the ground and what it means. I thought that it is terribly important how we get to the ground. I was bending over but my neck was craning out, like a not very intelligent ostrich. I could not let it hang.
I stood up again, and did the kind of thing that I have a body memory of from being in first grade, kindergarten, having kind teachers and a rubbery little self. I rolled my spine one vertebrae at a time down and when my head wanted to turtle its way out I thought no, just let it go.
When I got to place my hands on the ground, all of me was there. My head had come along for the ride, too. I was alone in the house that we’d been fighting to bring back to life after this impossible year, and had my hands on the ground giving something back. It was quite beautiful and it was a moment that you helped to create with your writing, which was with me as I leaned over and let go.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The Email I Sent This Morning
to everyone I know. This signifies my official coming out as a God-is-Love-la-la-la-hippie to some people in my life -- I'm sure they suspected anyhow. What's written below applies to you all, too. I'm getting on the bullhorn and asking for requests.
----
Hey Folks,
As you may know, I started a blog back in August 2007, called Are You There God, It's Me, Blogging (http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/). And yes, I do have plans to get in touch with Judy Blume. You can get a good idea of what it's about from the opening entry: http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/2007/08/question-1-universe-please-help-me.html .
The basic idea is that every day (that's in Jen time, so it's more like every so often) I ask the Universe for something, and blog the results. It's been a really interesting tool for getting me to write every day, and to consider those pesky little questions like The Meaning of Life.
I'm writing you now because frankly, I need material, and I'm also very interested in having this blog go beyond me and whether I need need the line at the bank to be short on a given day. I'd like you, or your friends, or your friends of friends, and eventually total strangers, to write in their requests for me to query the Universe on their behalf. I will repost this email as today's entry, and requests can be made to the comments section.
I don't believe I have any kind of super powers. I do have some hippie leanings toward the power of collective thought and prayer. At minimum, it will be interesting to see what happens, which is what this blog has been about from the beginning.
Thanks for your help!
Love,
Jen
----
Hey Folks,
As you may know, I started a blog back in August 2007, called Are You There God, It's Me, Blogging (http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/). And yes, I do have plans to get in touch with Judy Blume. You can get a good idea of what it's about from the opening entry: http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/2007/08/question-1-universe-please-help-me.html .
The basic idea is that every day (that's in Jen time, so it's more like every so often) I ask the Universe for something, and blog the results. It's been a really interesting tool for getting me to write every day, and to consider those pesky little questions like The Meaning of Life.
I'm writing you now because frankly, I need material, and I'm also very interested in having this blog go beyond me and whether I need need the line at the bank to be short on a given day. I'd like you, or your friends, or your friends of friends, and eventually total strangers, to write in their requests for me to query the Universe on their behalf. I will repost this email as today's entry, and requests can be made to the comments section.
I don't believe I have any kind of super powers. I do have some hippie leanings toward the power of collective thought and prayer. At minimum, it will be interesting to see what happens, which is what this blog has been about from the beginning.
Thanks for your help!
Love,
Jen
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Today is Some Day
I woke up with the clear thought in my head that "Today is the day." For what, I don't know. Possibly for my state's governor to step down admidst a sex ring scandal.
I have to say this doesn't surprise me all that much. I'm a Democrat but couldn't bring myself to vote for him. He has a holier-than-thou, Elliot Ness, I'm the good guy and you are the bad guys approach. I've always thought that's just the personality type of the Attorney General, the position formerly held by Spitzer and Guliani, who had the same outlook before becoming America's Mayor. People so hot to damn others, people that mighty, tend to fall.
If you've been waiting for a day to change, to do better, to accept the truth, to go get a donut, go do it today. Today is the day.
I have to say this doesn't surprise me all that much. I'm a Democrat but couldn't bring myself to vote for him. He has a holier-than-thou, Elliot Ness, I'm the good guy and you are the bad guys approach. I've always thought that's just the personality type of the Attorney General, the position formerly held by Spitzer and Guliani, who had the same outlook before becoming America's Mayor. People so hot to damn others, people that mighty, tend to fall.
If you've been waiting for a day to change, to do better, to accept the truth, to go get a donut, go do it today. Today is the day.
Monday, March 10, 2008
What We Want
I'm exhausted and yet I can seemingly keep going. That's all the miracle I need for today.
I've been thinking about what I've been asking for here, and what others have been asking for. This blog was born out of strange twins of grief and hope, a plain human need to will the buds open when everything is bone cold and withered.
Looking at this blog so far as the most informal of surveys, I'd say we need to know the sick can get well, the odds can be overcome, the dead still love us even if we can never again slip our hand into theirs, unthinkingly, as we take their presence for granted. We need to know we can survive our personal horrors, and that the world can survive all the horrors that people visit on eachother. We need to know that what seems impossible, on any given day, can happen, from our own effort and from powers beyond us, because we are deserving and somehow loved. We need to know that when we ask for help, the universe is listening and the universe will grant it.
With all our electric light, we're still this little group of people in the darkness praying that the sun will come up over the hill again, that we'll get through the winter, that the crops will come in.
I don't know what it means that we live in a relatively physically stable society with our souls still fighting for survival this way. I also don't know, at this moment, if this is all just me.
I've been thinking about what I've been asking for here, and what others have been asking for. This blog was born out of strange twins of grief and hope, a plain human need to will the buds open when everything is bone cold and withered.
Looking at this blog so far as the most informal of surveys, I'd say we need to know the sick can get well, the odds can be overcome, the dead still love us even if we can never again slip our hand into theirs, unthinkingly, as we take their presence for granted. We need to know we can survive our personal horrors, and that the world can survive all the horrors that people visit on eachother. We need to know that what seems impossible, on any given day, can happen, from our own effort and from powers beyond us, because we are deserving and somehow loved. We need to know that when we ask for help, the universe is listening and the universe will grant it.
With all our electric light, we're still this little group of people in the darkness praying that the sun will come up over the hill again, that we'll get through the winter, that the crops will come in.
I don't know what it means that we live in a relatively physically stable society with our souls still fighting for survival this way. I also don't know, at this moment, if this is all just me.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Call and Response
I haven't posted for a few days because I felt like I'd run out of hope in my personal life, and it's difficult to write here when I'm not in a whoo, lookee, swirling stars of love, kind of frame of mind.
Then J from ArtConstellation, the aforementioned 'J' in the J&S story, wrote to let me know that two hours after I posted their story, S received a call for a job interview, his first since graduating from grad school (I think). Shortly after, he got the job, which means they can get an apartment together, an important step toward her going back to Italy. I am beyond thrilled for them and wish them nothing but happiness. I am also thankful to J for letting me know, because my amputated hope got some much needed surgery and is now going through physical therapy and rehab.
I don't begin to believe I have superpowers. I am beginning to believe, as Steve told me recently, that literally anything is possible. And I wholeheartedly believe a whole group of us having hope, wanting good, wanting love to prevail, begins to push things in that direction. So thanks to all of you reading.
J asked me to ask the universe for a miracle for Lora -- you can read her story here. Universe, please help Lora to survive and become well. Her story has already affected many people and she is a positive, loving person.
As long as I'm at it, Universe, we've had a whole bunch of conversations about my friend Ruby, who is also fighting cancer like a saber tooth tiger, so let's just say thank you for helping her stay alive and survive this long, and keep up the good work.
Last, my friend Athena called me last week and asked that I pray for a family in her town who had been in a terrible car accident. I am remiss in not putting this here for her sooner, and saddened to hear that some of the family did not survive. Athena, I love you, and I ask the Universe to protect, heal, and take care of the Howdens.
One of the highlights of my week last week was listening to Athena's two-year-old daughter play harmonica over the phone and then hold it up to phone for me to play it, an ocean away. This week I reconnected with an old friend, took care of my health, resolved some family issues, ran back and forth across a football field with my son. When I look at those moments, it seems there is little more I could ever need. And looking over this post, I see that all we really need is to still be breathing and anything after that continues to be possible.
Then J from ArtConstellation, the aforementioned 'J' in the J&S story, wrote to let me know that two hours after I posted their story, S received a call for a job interview, his first since graduating from grad school (I think). Shortly after, he got the job, which means they can get an apartment together, an important step toward her going back to Italy. I am beyond thrilled for them and wish them nothing but happiness. I am also thankful to J for letting me know, because my amputated hope got some much needed surgery and is now going through physical therapy and rehab.
I don't begin to believe I have superpowers. I am beginning to believe, as Steve told me recently, that literally anything is possible. And I wholeheartedly believe a whole group of us having hope, wanting good, wanting love to prevail, begins to push things in that direction. So thanks to all of you reading.
J asked me to ask the universe for a miracle for Lora -- you can read her story here. Universe, please help Lora to survive and become well. Her story has already affected many people and she is a positive, loving person.
As long as I'm at it, Universe, we've had a whole bunch of conversations about my friend Ruby, who is also fighting cancer like a saber tooth tiger, so let's just say thank you for helping her stay alive and survive this long, and keep up the good work.
Last, my friend Athena called me last week and asked that I pray for a family in her town who had been in a terrible car accident. I am remiss in not putting this here for her sooner, and saddened to hear that some of the family did not survive. Athena, I love you, and I ask the Universe to protect, heal, and take care of the Howdens.
One of the highlights of my week last week was listening to Athena's two-year-old daughter play harmonica over the phone and then hold it up to phone for me to play it, an ocean away. This week I reconnected with an old friend, took care of my health, resolved some family issues, ran back and forth across a football field with my son. When I look at those moments, it seems there is little more I could ever need. And looking over this post, I see that all we really need is to still be breathing and anything after that continues to be possible.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Because at the end of the day I am a big hippie who really does believe in the power of love
For brave, brilliant and strong J, who I've come to know through the brave, brilliant and strong Jessieh. (Neither of them would probably describe themselves that way, so I'll do it for them, in honor of the people out there describing me that way when I feel like I cannot pick up my foot to take one more step.)
Universe, this one is for J and S, two people I really don't know at all, but who seem to be fighting a giant raging ocean just to hold eachother's hands. You know, Universe, how hard J is fighting in general. When two people can love and support eachother, every thing beneath their feet that lay fallow can bloom. It can be so much easier to take the first steps of loving yourself when you see the love another has for you.
So Universe, dude, come on. They have nothing left to prove. Let's pick up the world like it was just a paper map sitting on my dining room table, and touch the East Coast of the United States to Rome in a kiss. Let those two points stay connected, forever. Let them find a way for J to stay in Italy for good, and let the good times finally finally finally start to roll.
Universe, this one is for J and S, two people I really don't know at all, but who seem to be fighting a giant raging ocean just to hold eachother's hands. You know, Universe, how hard J is fighting in general. When two people can love and support eachother, every thing beneath their feet that lay fallow can bloom. It can be so much easier to take the first steps of loving yourself when you see the love another has for you.
So Universe, dude, come on. They have nothing left to prove. Let's pick up the world like it was just a paper map sitting on my dining room table, and touch the East Coast of the United States to Rome in a kiss. Let those two points stay connected, forever. Let them find a way for J to stay in Italy for good, and let the good times finally finally finally start to roll.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Don't Mess With Mr. Strut
While I am back -- and better than ever -- and have lots to write about after my impromptu vacation from this blog and thinking about anything of any worth, well, I'm not going to today. And that's because I'm too delighted by this AP story that came out this morning and the fact that one of the Universe's main priorities is Mick Jagger. I also like that the Hell's Angels are open to signs from the heavens, or at least from the ocean.
From the AP:
BBC: Hell's Angels Sought to Kill Jagger
('LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed. By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: March 3, 2008
Filed at 7:36 a.m. ET
LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed.
A program to be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on Monday says the rock star was the target of the plot following a purported dispute with the motorcycle gang over concert security.
Jagger had vowed not to use Hells Angel members as bouncers following the death in December 1969 of an 18-year-old fan at a notorious free performance at Altamont Speedway in Northern California.
In return, gang members hatched a plan to kill Jagger at his holiday home in Long Island, New York, the BBC claimed.
''The Hells Angels were so angered by Jagger's treatment of them that they decided to kill him,'' Tom Mangold, the presenter of the program, was quoted as telling Britain's Sunday Telegraph newspaper.
He said the plan was disclosed during an interview with Mark Young, a former FBI officer, for the BBC's ''The FBI at 100'' documentary.
Mangold said the men tried to reach Jagger by sea. ''The boat was hit by a storm and all of the men were thrown overboard,'' he was quoted as saying. They all survived but made no other attempt on his life, Mangold said.
It was not clear whether Jagger was ever informed of the alleged plot against him.
LD Communications, Jagger's publicists in Britain, did not immediately return calls requesting comment.
The Hells Angels have always denied any connection with the Altamont Speedway killing.
From the AP:
BBC: Hell's Angels Sought to Kill Jagger
('LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed. By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: March 3, 2008
Filed at 7:36 a.m. ET
LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed.
A program to be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on Monday says the rock star was the target of the plot following a purported dispute with the motorcycle gang over concert security.
Jagger had vowed not to use Hells Angel members as bouncers following the death in December 1969 of an 18-year-old fan at a notorious free performance at Altamont Speedway in Northern California.
In return, gang members hatched a plan to kill Jagger at his holiday home in Long Island, New York, the BBC claimed.
''The Hells Angels were so angered by Jagger's treatment of them that they decided to kill him,'' Tom Mangold, the presenter of the program, was quoted as telling Britain's Sunday Telegraph newspaper.
He said the plan was disclosed during an interview with Mark Young, a former FBI officer, for the BBC's ''The FBI at 100'' documentary.
Mangold said the men tried to reach Jagger by sea. ''The boat was hit by a storm and all of the men were thrown overboard,'' he was quoted as saying. They all survived but made no other attempt on his life, Mangold said.
It was not clear whether Jagger was ever informed of the alleged plot against him.
LD Communications, Jagger's publicists in Britain, did not immediately return calls requesting comment.
The Hells Angels have always denied any connection with the Altamont Speedway killing.
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