New Seasons

Hi. It's been a year. This place needs some cleaning. I'm going to try and start this up again, but you'll have to ignore the cobwebs and tea-mugs stacked everywhere!

It's a full year since I was here, and what a year! I'll get to the details by and by. For now, it's the beginning of Lent, the most special time of the year (I think), being a time of renewal. On which note I would like to share the following quote, which someone (thank God!) shared with me yesterday:

Be attentive to yourself, so that nothing destructive can separate you from the love of God. Guard your heart, and do not grow listless. For when a man abandons his sins and returns to God, his repentance regenerates him and renews him entirely.

~St. Isaac the Solitary (from the Philokalia)

These are lenten thoughts: attentiveness, closing the separation with God, the state of the heart. And of course, repent, repent, repent, with the hope of being renewed ENTIRELY. I needed that.

Yours, with hope, etc.

Happy St. Brigid's Day!

February 1st is the comemmoration of St. Brigid of Ireland, whom I took as my patron saint when I was baptized last April. That makes today my very first name-day! Therefore I've been reflecting on why I chose Brigid, and how this has affected me since I began reading about her life.
St. Brigid is attributed with three short 'maxims' which sum up her attitude towards people and her life of servanthood. I see them every day, written on my icon of St. Brigid which hangs in my room: "To care for the poor, to lighten everyone's burden, to comfort the suffering." In her simplicity and humility, she constantly gave to the poor (even things which didn't belong to her!), knowing that stuff has no intrinsic value and that it's only people that matter.
I've left of blogging for the past couple of months, for various reasons. However, it has now been a full month of the new year as of this St. Brigid's Day, and in honor of my patroness I would like to share an excerpt from St. Basil the Great's sermon To the Rich. It is based off of Christ's words to the wealthy young man who wished to follow Christ but could not due to his attachment to his wealth.

"Although the meaning of our Lord's answer is clear, he does not lie when he speaks, there are few who are persuaded by it. 'How shall we live,' someone will say, 'when we have renounced everything? What quality of life will there be if everybody sells all and forsakes all?' Do not ask me the rationale behind our Lord's commands. The Lawgiver knows well how to bring what is possible into agreement with the Law. Your heart is tested, as it were, upon the fulcrum of the scale, inclining now towards the true life, now towards present enjoyment. It befits those who possess sound judgment to recognize that they have received wealth as a stewardship, and not for their own enjoyment; thus, when they are parted from it, the rejoice as those who relinquish what is not really theirs, instead of becoming downcast like those who are stripped of their own."

I have been learning much about kindness this past month, especially that which one finds in Sts. Basil and Brigid. I think we are very much mistaken when we consider that the poor are to blame for their own poverty, or that sick people are not worth our tax dollars. I'm not convinced that it's my job to make judgments as to who is 'deserving' of my time or money, as if I have the right to judge someone's circumstances. It would seem that Christ has decided for me already that all people are worth it. All I am given to do is to love, and to give, and to be kind.

Conversations with Erin: Scientists with beards

A conversation which occured during a lull in our Tuesday night Bible study, while the 'adults' were talking about something else.

Erin: "I bet Newton had beard. A great big beardy-beard."

Me: "Newon didn't have a beard."

Erin: "He didn't have a beardy-beard? I thought he did."

Me: "Nope, I'm pretty sure he was clean-shaven. None of his portraits have beards."

Erin: "I must be thinking of Copernicus."

Me: "Yes! Copernicus DEFINITELY had a considerable beard."

Erin: "That's because he was a mystic."

Me: "Of course. Being a mystic makes your beard grow beardy. Most of the older scientists probably had beardy-beards."

Erin: "That's probably why Jack doesn't grow a beard." (For non-Gutenberg students: Jack is one of our beloved tutors with no beard and not a single mystical sensibility to speak of).

Ashli: "I would imagine not."

Erin: "I wonder how Ron feels about this?" (Ron, like Jack, is not a mystic, but unlike Jack sports an impressive beard).

Ashli: *shrug*

Erin: "...Now Kepler, he had the biggest beardy-beard of all!"

Yours, etc.

An excerpt

"What am I going to do? What are the Church and each Christian to do in this world? What is our mission?
"To these questions there exist no answers in the form of practical 'recipes'. 'It all depends' on thousands of factors--and, too be sure all faculties of our human intelligence and wisdom, organization and planning, are to be constantly used. Yet--and this is the one 'point' we wanted to make in these pages-- 'it all depends' primarily on our being real witnesses to the joy and peace of the Holy Spirit, to that new life of which we are made partakers in the Church. The Church is the sacrament of the Kingdom--not because she possesses divinely instituted acts called 'sacraments', but because first of all she is the possibility given to man to see in and through this world the 'world to come', to see and to 'live' it in Christ. It is only when in the darkness of this world we discern that Christ has already 'filled all things with Himself' that these things, whatever they may be, are revealed and given to us full of meaning and beauty. A Christian is the one who, wherever he looks, finds Christ and rejoices in Him. And this joy transforms all his human plans and programs, decisions and actions, making all his mission the sacrament of the world's return to Him who is the life of the world."

Taken from For the Life of the World by Fr. Alexander Schmemann

Yours, in Christ, etc.

I Am Not A Hippie

Just so everyone is clear on that.

And the world spins madly on

I'm munching toast and thinking about the bridal shower I'm attending this evening, the third one this summer. Already I've witnessed three weddings. This shower is for a girl who was my partner in crime (almost literally) when we were toddlers, and through most of our early adolescence. Mainly, I'm noticing what a long time ago that was (even the adolescence already!), and also how the exponential increase in marriages these past two years has even touched childhood friendships. The world is turning very fast indeed!

I'm reading a biography of Albert Camus, in which he is quoted with the following: "I want to get married, kill myself, or subscribe to L'Illustration magazine, do something desperate, you know what I mean?"

The occasion for this statement? His wedding to his first wife. He was twenty years old, precocious to boot, and struck with despair over the purposelessness of his life. Ready to do something desperate. In the end Camus chose marriage over suicide, even though he disdained marriage as an imprisonment and was known to counsel his female students to "Never marry, ladies, never marry." Although suffice it to say, young Albert did not choose his wife auspiciously. Simone was a morphine addict and given to all kinds of flamboyant behavior. Additionally, they agreed NOT to be faithful to each other (Ashli scratches her head). Really, their marriage was the act of two defiant young people looking for something outrageous to do.

I've seen a lot of weddings, and I've recently discovered that I tend to be rather cynical. But I grieve over Camus' perspective. Marriage isn't a perfect state, but I've watched many people enter into it knowing this, and knowing that their marriages are for God. A marriage is intended to help individuals know God, among other things. Without this, of course we might consider marriage as Camus did.

But for now, another bridal shower. And they're off...again!

Yours, optimistically, etc.

Summer projects, part 2: The sequel to "The Cake Topper" and other related incidents

Speaking of projects, I really should be packing up my room right now, getting ready for the annual Summer Transition. BUT, I thought a follow-up about The Cake Topper project might be in order. In short, it turned out beautifully, and it was such a pleasure to be able to add to the wedding in that way. There is, however, a back story to The Cake Topper which I just cannot leave untold, and it is directly related to a second project, which is The Floral Arrangements. The reason why I ended up topping the cake was because I and two of my other housemates were recruited to design all the flower arrangements for the tables, as well as corsages and the cake. Now, if there's any part of a wedding that I would like to be involved in, it's with the flowers, so I didn't need much coaxing. Mainly the bride wanted wild flowers, and the original idea was just to go to a U-pick joint, glean some blooms, put the unruly bundles into mason jars, and ta-da! Our beatific vision was, ah, altered, however, as I will relate.

The Scheme: U-pick was ruled out for various reasons. Sooooo, we figured, if we want wild flowers, we'll search for them in the wild! Honestly, it's Eugene, with plenty of parks and nooks in which to find a little flower-power...can't be too hard...right?

First Proceedings: Molly and I ventured out of the house Friday morning, each with a pair of shears and one big bucket, hoping to pinch a little here and a little there from our neighbors' yards. Yes, we pretty much resorted to theft on the first go. Make of it what you will. It was just such a bleak beginning, a seemingly downward spiral: DIY ain't what it's cracked up to be...so much for 'simple'...we have no purveyor of florals...what else is left, but to scrounge it up out of the bare earth? Wait a minute, neighbor M.'s flowers look mighty nice...he wouldn't mind just a few clippings...and thieves are born.
Nah. We decided instead to find some obliging fields. We weren't that sneaky anyways. Let me say about my fellow adventurer: she is thoughtful and organized in ways that I am not, and she took up the endeavor graciously when I probably would have been too boggled to know where to begin. That doesn't mean that our first attempt with field flowers was that promising. A bland setting to boot, but we were determined. Molly began snipping some tangly purple things, and I turned my attention rather wearily to foliage. You should have seen the look of despair she gave me when I showed her some (I thought) rather lovely pink grasses. (Misunderstanding No. 1. Apparently she thought I was referring to the brown grasses, which were dismal indeed). That was cleared up, and we felt more encouraged. And then...

Daisies! And then we saw the daisy field, on the other side of the tangly-purple-thing-pink-grass field. "Gasp!!! DAISIES!!!!" We were ecstatic over them. Needless to say, we gathered a lot of daisies. This was a much happier prospect, brightened further by the little purple flowers (they looked sort of like giant raspberries) tucked throughout. Things were looking up!

Some Manoeuvres: After we settled the daisy-crazy buckets in our house, Molly suggested that we run by Trader Joe's for some corsage flowers (and treats), and to do some further scouting on the way. We were still feeling desperate, but rather plucky after our first successes. So we figured, why not go out on a median on a very busy street and clip some of the flowers there? And there we were, like nobody's business. I could just imagine my mom catching a glimpse in some newspaper "week in snapshots" thing, on the off chance we were caught on camera (that or some wanted delinquent section. The city of Eugene can take their pick). We didn't stick around (it was a slim median), but found further triumph pruning hydrangeas (and hydrangeas and hydrangeas...lots of hydrangeas) for the benefit of some office buildings. That's how we explained it to ourselves. On top of it, we found the lovliest purple lisianthus at TJ's. We knew we were in business.

A Good Day's Work: We brought our spoils home, and got to work. Our other counterpart provided some fragrant chamomile and lemon balm, and together we constructed arrangements charming enough to grace any shabby chic or DIY magazine. We were all just floored by how everything, the whole endeavor, just fell into place. And glory to God. Really, we had a splendid time, and had the great gift of being able to laugh even at the very worst (for instance, while we were gazing resolutely upon the pink grasses and purple tanglies, there was a summer parks and recreation deal going on in the form of a Quidditch match. For real. Our serious picking was cheered by the image of kids playing soccer with brooms between their legs, and I honestly don't know how it could have been otherwise). Even more, it was one of those instances in which the labor really is its own reward. We had such fun, were delighted with the fruit of our work, and had the added pleasure of giving it as a gift to our friends' marriage.

The only possible dowside to this whole business is that I can't even see a weed or a tuft of grass without considering its potential for floral decor.

Yours, considering a career in floristry, etc.