peeling scabs

I have always liked speed. Fast cars, airplanes, boats, bike rides... you name it, and if it makes the air whistle in your ears and tousles your hair, I like it. And I've never been very patient with anything slow. 

And now I find that even this sea-change is not and cannot be the whirlwind (I love the sound of this word :) experience I thought it should or could be.

Somebody has likened having your heart broken to open-heart surgery, and as our brains seem to process emotional pain in the same place as physical pain, it is no wonder that these past 3 years I have often felt like a convalescent surgery-patient. The recovery process simply takes a lot more time and is way more profound than I had thought. Many times I've asked like kids in the back-seat of the car, "Are we there yet?" and made almost exactly the same sound of "mgmgngngnnaafhmpf" when I've realized the answer is no.

So, slowly, I've learned to give myself the permission to take the time I need to heal and not to be embarrassed about it. 

And I'm learning to be patient with the slow thing that is called me and my no-longer-bleeding-but-still-at-times-aching heart. 

The most amazing thing seems to happen as a consequence: as I let go of the expectations I have on myself, and stop peeling the scab off the wounds of my heart (you know the way we did as kids? I still have scars to show that that really doesn't help the healing to be quicker at all), the miraculous takes place... left alone in the silent velvety darkness of my heart, the seeds of joy, life, peace and laughter hidden in my heart have had the space to grow, and all of a sudden I find that I'm truly alive again, and that the night is passing...

and so time picks up speed again... :)

Aslan has roared and Spring is on its way!

time: kairos vs chronos

At the beginning of this year I was struck again by the different notions of time and how life simply doesn't follow the chronological ordering of time.

Life flows not only by days, weeks and years, but is also marked by once-in-a-lifetime events, chance meetings of utter significance, special encounters, eureka! moments. And they cannot be ordered to come. Chronology can be planned, but these special times cannot. The ancient Greeks called this other kind of time 'kairos'.

'Kairos' moments cannot be fabricated or had at a whim, they seem to be more in the line of something that interrupts the 'chronos' of our normal life, and brings a challenge to change in its wake.

So much of my life as a researcher revolves around 'chronos': deadlines, extensions of grants etc, but yet, the substance of my research comes from those 'kairos' moments periods of time.

Wikipedia says, "In rhetoric kairos is "a passing instant when an opening appears which must be driven through with force if success is to be achieved."

The connotation there is that not only is there a window of opportunity, but that skill is also needed to use it, to actually achieve that which the specific time-bound opportunity makes possible for one to achieve. In built in 'kairos' is the idea of the "right time" for something to happen.

I find myself this spring in such a time in my research, in a season where it truly will be possible to write what I have so long carried in me. But in order to be successful, I must take hold of the crucial time, lest it passes.

'Kairos' has many more meanings too, and it is an integral part of Christian theology as well, the Eternal intersects the temporal at 'kairos' times.

What ever the kind of 'kairos' given to us this coming chronological year, may we not miss even one them!

NOW is the right time!

being yourself

I've been thinking of what people actually mean when they say that with thus-and-so I can/cannot be myself.

What kind of self are talking about?

There is this grumpy Monday morning self that emerges before my cup of morning coffee... and there is the self that is delighted pink just because of some happy thoughts... and there is the sad self and there is the self that keeps on analyzing things...sometimes I really don't want to be myself, because I find myself irritating, maddening, boring and at times pathetic... (but I'm stuck with me, for better or for worse :)

Some selves come out of their hiding only when they feel really safe, and some of the lioness in me only comes out when my kids are attacked, and some selves are very susceptible to weather, sleep and food... At times I feel there's and an entire kingdom within :)

So, maybe what we actually mean is that to be with people who allow you to be all of the above, who allow you to keep on growing, who challenge you and accept you, who are able to see beyond the immediate, forgiving the occasional slip... they are the ones with whom you can be yourself indeed!

I read a phrase that really caught me:

Don't aim at pleasing, but remember that YOU are loved!

that sums it all up: to be myself I need to know that I am loved, and then I can be free to be or not to be... and free to change that which needs changing... and free to look with eyes of mercy on the other selves, be they mine or others...

let mercy triumph over judgement, again!

Clean bed linen and safe people

One of the most comforting and snuggle-inducing memories of my childhood are the evenings when the bed linen had just been changed and I could crawl in bed and just draw deep breaths smelling the crispness and cleanness of my sheets. Especially if it was early autumn, and they had dried outside in the wind, smelling of sunshine and of coming autumn... mmh!

I think that the people I instantly feel close to have something similar about them. They have been through various cycles of life, involving a lot of cleansing and tumbling and shaking and drying, but the outcome is that the dirt is out, they smell nice, and even when you snuggle close, they are still safe and clean.

With people, though, the definition of clean doesn't mean someone who has never had any dirt in their lives, that would exclude all of us. I think the safe-and-clean category is made of people who don't cling to their dirt, who are open and willing to be clean (and cleansed) and who are mindful of what makes relationships safe: trust, respect, kindness, acceptance...

I want excitement and adventures probably more than most people, but that's just outer stuff. I like reckless (within limits :) BUT the people I want closest in my life are like the bed linen of my childhood. They are safe to be with!

The other thing I associate that snuggly feeling with is flannel, the kind of flannel the shirts my Dad used to wear were made of. It is unbeatable!, and so for years I had the best of both worlds: flannel bed linen :) It is the absolute tops on cold winter nights... I wonder what the equivalent in people would look like... ;)

Beautiful people - they are everywhere

Lately I've been really impressed with the beauty of people in general. I find it absolutely astonishing that the world is so full-packed with such amounts of beauty, lavishly poured out everywhere.

And there are so many ways of being beautiful too. The other day I was watching my parents, already old, walking hand in hand down the street, both quite wrinkly and with a physical problem or two, but wearing their dark dark sun glasses, like some retired Men in Black -couple :) I'm pretty sure they dont' see what I see when I look at them, but in my eyes they are SO beautiful.

To mention another one, I was reading the blog of a friend of mine. And she is just doing such an incredibly good job bringing up her son as a single mom. Such beauty of action, of life, of daring to invest in someone, even when its really taxing. I'm not sure she sees what I see in her... the grace-in-action that she embodies... but the way she goes about it IS beautiful.

Generosity is beautiful. Maybe that's why I see so much beauty around me, it seems that I'm surrounded with such bighearted people, who share out of kindness, not because they have too much...

Today as I was having lunch with a very dear friend, the waitress' eyes were just sparkling at the thought that she could treat us to freshly baked bread and butter... in the midst being very busy, such generous care and kindness. Again, I was really touched by the beauty of her gesture.

I think most people are quite beautiful, if one has eyes to see. I'm also convinced that it probably is a secret that they themselves are not aware of... the way a girl listened to her friend looking so intent, or the way a father holds his son's hand when they get on the tram, or the way a young girls skirt was moving as she walked... beauty everywhere, in words, movements, forms, colours, shapes, and sometimes even ruins of various kinds can be beautiful, or tell a story of great beauty and strength. I'm thinking of a few sagging tummies and other parts, some varicose veins and puffed eyes, all "ruins" if looked from the outside, but for those who have eyes to see, they a signs of love, and of daring and of giving generously of yourself to and for the next generation...

Beauty might be in the eye of the beholder, so may we all walk with open eyes!

Home??

Sitting in my hotel room, I just realized once again, that I have been blessed with a most peculiar gift: I feel at home almost anywhere!

Being a researcher, I immediately try to dissect this feeling to see what it is made of, but I think it has to do with presence; I'm present here and now, and so in a way, my home is here too. The rest is just location :)

Also, it might be a habit as well: I've traveled a lot and so I have learned to carve out that little space I call mine wherever I am. In a way the space I possess becomes an extension of my home, a physical place I call mine.

But don't we all do that? in a restaurant the table becomes mine the moment I've sat down or placed my coat on a chair... or like I witnessed today, in a full-packed conference room, a lady got up and the person standing asked, "will you come back or can I sit on your chair?" but since when was that chair hers? or that table mine?

Or is it a question not of space but of "dominion"? If I can decide what happens there, then the place is mine, as in, "no, you cant' , it's my place/seat/table/turn/etc..."

Or maybe this just reflects my vagabond-like nature; I like to roam, and to feel at home is essential to one's well-being, and so this is a functional mindset enabling me to do what I need to do...

One way or another, welcome to my place, wherever that may be ;)

Rites of passage - divorce

For so many things that are important watersheds in one's life, there are different rites of passages.

Births, christenings, confirmation, wedding, graduation, moving into a new house, funerals, etc.

Amazingly, I found that there are no such things for divorce. There are even funerals for pets, but when one's marriage is over and has died, there is only a muted clink of the mail box, or a comment, "have you heard X and Y have also divorced?". All the tragedy of a divorce, all the sadness, all the life that has ended allowed to vanish just like a puff of smoke...

This small puff - all of me revolts at the idea, because it is NOT a small thing for two lives knitted together to be ripped apart as happens in divorce. And the memories...!

Silence simply isn't an option!

So, I wanted to change that, at least for myself. Many years ago, before God and people I promised to love, cherish and to stand by my husband, come what may. Now that he is no longer my husband, I did not want this breaking not get the attention it merits, but wanted to acknowledge before God and people that this marriage has died and now needs a funeral.

I invited for this (what should one call it? divorcening? funeral-for-marriage?) some of the friends who have walked with me for a long time, long enough to know me and gracious enough to love me nevertheless ;)

(One friend came with the 'hugest' bouquet I have ever seen, a bouquet of comfort and hope she called it. It was amazing: it had all my favorite flowers in it, even sweat-peas that I had had so many years ago in my wedding-bouquet! )

None of us had ever done anything like this, so we had no script to follow, but we all agreed that what sounded good and proper, was to do some sort of a reversal of marriage: acknowledging before God and people that this marriage has died and was therefore over, to proclaim forgiveness and release from all bonds, and to pronounce a blessing over me as I am starting a new life.

It was an amazing time!!!! I had thought it would be more like a funeral, with lots of tears and crying, as one does when something/someone one has loved has died, but it had an unexpected strong celebratory quality: there is life after death, and newness of life is a reality, and there is a blessing in starting life over! For a moment I think we all felt the truth of life swallowing death, a foretaste of that which is to come!

I felt utterly privileged, and very much like a bride: starting a new life of which I have no idea how it will be, but surrounded by friends at every side, willing to walk with me; it cannot but be good! Where ever I turned in my small living room, I saw friendly faces, encountered warm smiles, heard words of encouragement and affirmation!
Carried by love and prayers I walk in this newness of life! Feels so light and so free!

I think this ceremony most affected two things. First of all, the perception I have of myself. I now see myself now longer as the to-be-pitied ex-wife, but I see myself as the beloved, daughter, friend, sister, mother - all of which no divorce can wreck. The core of who I am hasn't changed, and now it is no longer obscured by the ashes of my failed marriage.

Secondly, I realized that I am free from the debt marriage creates. No longer do I have to carry burdens of the other one. Visually I just saw myself leaving a very heavy load of stones in a big sack lying there on the road, while I continue to hop, skip and jump ahead :) carrying only my own (manageable) burdens :)

When one is married, one automatically has a debt of love, of loyalty, of faithfulness, of pursuing happiness as one, no longer merely as being 'I' and 'you' but as being a 'we'. This bond was severed, and I am now officially free from this particular kind of debt! I think that because I had not wanted to be free from this debt, the impact was (and still is) so great: I, no longer bound by the particular 'we' and 'us', will not any longer carry burdens in the name of love for my husband! It was right for me to carry them when the promise still bound me. Now my debt and burden-bearing is over!

As a Christian, it was also of utter importance for me too to do all this before God. It seems that He takes promises very seriously, and since my marriage vows were made to Him and with Him as the main witness, I wanted to include God in the act of acknowledging the death of the marriage those promises had upheld. So, that's what we did, this circle of friends and I.

But not only that... as God is also the source of all blessing, and all newness and life, it was also very important for me to once again start my journey into the unknown under His blessing and in His company. I see Him as the endless source of courage, hope, unexplored paths and adventure, and so to know that I can walk closely with Him into all this newness creates in me an expectation that I will also be equipped to live and love wildly, not bound by past experiences!

and that is nothing short of miraculous!!!! There have been times when all seemed to be pointless, and it seemed as all joy had simply left and moved to another universe...

well, now I know that it hasn't!

The best is yet to come :)