a world in white

Monday, September 20, 2010

The beachside church is the place I have intermittently been attending down here over my past visits. Now that I am here, I have gone the past couple Sundays.
Their service is very modern compared to the country church I attend in Liberty, yet I have found myself drawn toward coming back each Sunday.
The service begins each Sunday with music and I would liken the "band" to Coldplay. The stage they have created is incredibly beautiful; dark with hanging antique lightbulbs and varied lamps.
I'm not sure who the director of music is, but young, hip, with what looks like a $90 haircut. All the guys who play with him follow suit.
Yesterday, the ending song had the verses, "Holy, Holy, Holy. God in three names. Blessed trinity"
This morning in my early thoughts, I was meditating on that. God in three names. My church upbringing lets me know: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.
Its interesting for me to consider these three elements of my faith. I think oftentimes people think of Christianity and they visualize a dying, bleeding Jesus hanging from the cross. Not pretty, not hopeful. Yes, this is the deciding factor that separates, Christians from others, yet this is only one element.
Yesterdays song service was a true representation of the Holy Spirit. I was once again, like I am in so many services moved to tears. Of course, like I said the music is pretty amazing, but as I looked around at all the people singing along and the hands I saw raising in the air, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by emotion. I always almost sort of laughed at people who would raise their arms in church as a child. My pessimistic, sarcastic teenage self found this to be tacky and generally "south". Yesterday, I found a new understanding of what this is.
These people were so moved by the holy spirit, by the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost that they lifted their hands up to him in order to reach closer. Its kind of like Mick Jagger singing "Shine a Light" in a sense.
When the lights came up for the sermon the pastor made comment on our praise/song time. He said in his casual way, "well that was... moving. You know this doesn't happen every Sunday. This really oftentimes is about what we bring to this spot. It doesn't happen like this every Sunday and even not in each service this morning."
I felt so moved by the visual of seeing people lifting their hands up yesterday, not only because I understand what that means to want to be closer to God, but to see others experiencing it just brought tears to my eyes.
Prayer has been on my mind lately. What it means to pray. How to pray. What to bring to God.
The pastor spoke about prayer for a bit yesterday. He took me to scripture, Ephesians, Acts, I John. One of the scriptures that brought me back was "ask for whatever it is that you want, in the name of the Father, and I will give it to you." This concept was beyond comprehension for me at the time I first heard it. Yet, as time goes by, I find it to reign true.
God does give what we ask for. The only thing required is to ask.
This morning with my early thoughts, I traveled back to a prayer I repeated for many months. "Lord take this away from me." It was at the time a prayer of desperation. Not fully even understanding what I was asking for. Today, I can solidly confirm that prayer was answered.
When I think about the trinity, I think of a new prayer. It relates to faith.
I find my mind so tempted to travel back lately. To look in the rearview and rewind. Today my prayer is not a Zen "live in the moment" prayer, but one that asks me to look forward. Almost a fast forward button replaced by a rewind. I think it is so easy for us to look back. We have a reference point. But to look forward proves more difficult. We don't have a reference, the only symbol can be a calendar. But how do we look forward when we have no idea what it is we are focusing upon?
This is my prayer today. To allow faith and my acknowledgement of all that God is to give my mind the capability to open itself toward forward.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Going Home. part deux.

They say you can never go home again.

After nearly two years in the mid-coast of Maine I decided it was time to go again.
I felt I'd landed there only to gather and take a break. Never my choice, but a choice made for me, I loved the sea and the beautiful forest surrounding. After two years, I still find myself longing for a place to call home.

The idea of a winter with no snow or darkness, plus sun and surf lured me in, along with the grand potential for a job. In the past couple years I have become very adept at gathering my belongings and living out of a duffel bag. This current move happened in 2 days, and I have found myself back in a place I haven't lived for 15+ years.

This past week has been pretty intense. The looming thought that a life cannot be created over night and how much time it actually takes to earn a place to call home has been on the forefront.

Old thoughts and experiences have surfaced in my dreams, and I have been struggling with my choice. Was this in my plan? Was this anything I ever dreamed of? No. Moving back south was never a thought. But one thing I do know, is that when something is not working, try something else.

I came across an interesting interview with Rhianna the other day that has sat with me. Yeah, Rhianna. Amazing where little answers can be found. When asked about her struggles and how she got through, she responded, "My friends and family were phenomenal. But there comes a point when it is just you. And that is when you get to know God."

I have known this firsthand to only be true. This past week has been spent in much prayer and meditation. I have a desire to let time give time. Time has been such an amazing gift for me. When I think of where I was two years ago and where I am now, I am not completely satisfied, but feel blessed. The path is not clear yet. I still miss my home. Very much. But as time goes on, I find myself coming closer to another vision and another idea of what it is I want. The home I think of is no longer my home. It is up to me to find another. I have been on this path for awhile now.

This in-between finds me grateful, thankful. Anxiety no longer exists for me. I breathe freely. God has stood by my side through and through. His plan for me is not yet clear, but it is working.

I'm not sure one can go home? But I feel I am working toward making a home I have not known for a long while now. With that I feel free.

Her ways are of pleasantness and all her paths are peace. ..

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

there was an egg in my throat
i could not see tomorrow
it would soon not be here.
my diet consisted of white wine, cigarettes and xanax with the occasional bananna.

I'd wanted my bedroom to be all white when I moved in.
The dining room, tv room and parlour had colors of their own.

For my sleeping room, only white.

The first morning I went to place my feet on the floor, my stomach rose to my throat.
The alps inverted.

How could it be?
With all of my best intentions, with all of my soul. It was gone.

A window broken. A party to attend.

There was nothing I could do but put my feet on the ground and try and move on.

It took me over a year to sleep again.
10 months to eat again.

I didn't think I'd ever see the other side. It was all my fault and he would have me believe none the less.

I was fragile. Emotional. Weak. Needy.

Was I these things? I did not know anymore.
I only knew what he told me. I did not know myself at all anymore.
The sun blinded me.
The nighttime left me lonely. Terribly alone.

I sat. I thought. I contemplated.
I thought I could make sense of it all. I thought I could see myself out of it.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Well, as I can see its been over a year...

A series of unrestful dreams woke me around 4 this morning and somehow led me back here.

The only appropriateness I can subscribe to my initial vision for this "blog" is the color scheme.

WHITE.

The rest is to document.

This image has been one that comes to mind every couple of months after I wake from these dreams. It is an image I've carried around somewhere or another for the past couple of years. An image that represents so many words, yet I've struggled to find the right ones to put into one simple sentence. This image represents one of those moments in life that a person can recall in vivid. A moment when all else in the world fades and there is a focus that creates an unspoken understanding within. I'm not sure all humankind can relate to such a recollection, but from the many books I've read in the past couple years, I'm willing to take a bet there is such a bridge.

Seeing the Alps for the first time was a moment in my life that ranks high 3, most memorable.

There was a quietness inside me when I looked from the plane window. Their vastness and the color made me understand what it means to be as pure as the driven snow. I thought of movies, and humans. In a way as if I wasn't one at all, but merely a spectator. All I could hear was silence and the mechanical hum of the aeroplane propeller. I had been sleeping on his shoulder only a moment before, and when I looked back I thought I saw truth and beauty.

* Dreams of chase scenes led me back here. Oil stained airport runways, and crowded restaurants with Chinese men, drinking, smoking. Tests and escalators, and moments of truth spoken outloud with words never to be heard. This interuption led me here to do something with these images. I suppose I might change the far-fetched format and listen to Yined. I'd really like to take all of this and organize a book. I think I've been writing it for 10 years. I'm becoming largely more aware that if I shan't, these dreams may never subside.