29 01 2011

Have I Grown Old?

20 01 2011

A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They say, “Do it again;” and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy


The children were released
into the large open space,
given a respite
from the ordering of their day–
the lining up,
the counting off,
the sitting still,
the demand for quietness.
They looked, now free,
like doves taking to the sky,
like the fluff of dandelions
caught and scattered by the wind.
They ran
and ran,
here to there, and back again.
Their only destination
the movement itself,
kinesthetic joy
and salvation.
There is wisdom here,
I thought.
A truth,
but I could not remember it.

Richard Beck

and I will give you rest

3 01 2011


  • New Year’s poker with great friends and inviting acquaintances: New Year’s eve/day
  • CoTA:Epiphany; (Take the) Long Way Around the Sea:1.2.2011
  • 6 hours of baking + one game of telephone pictionary = awesome 1.6.2011
  • A lap around Green Lake and sitting down to a marvelous spread of lamb, pita, and Greek salad knowing the only reason I eat alone is because I choose it to be so 1.7.2011
  • Virtually every single moment of our weekend getaway to Oregon. Highlights: Sharing secrets and first impressions in the hot tub. Cross-species bonding. Executing a perfect form tackle in the snow. Hiding out with Baby J. Scribbling in my journal after everyone else had gone to bed. Folding the towels. 1.14-17.2011
  • An hour with Paul feeling genuinely heard and cared for and the redemption of an old catchphrase, “Not yet” 1.20.2011
  • Two hours watching/playing with the sweet Sky and insouciant Graci 1.31.2011


  • A) A rare moment of genuine, heartfelt tenderness toward that portion of myself tenaciously and abrasively demanding I face and fight all of my unresolved issues, which I am usually so quick to flee. B) Sharing Canal Street Coffee, Fremont Peak Park, and everything it means to live inside my skin with my lovely friend. 2.3.2011

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