an epiphany

So, this weekend I had some interesting things happen. I went home for the weekend, and came across a leather journal of poetry I keep. I haven't written a lot of poetry in a long time, so I read through a couple of them last night. I was surprised by how exposed my emotions were in my poetry. I also noticed that the bad emotions seemed to be accompanied by (paraphrased) "life might be bad, but God can carry me through." I realized I've drifted from that a lot. I still trust God, but it isn't the first thing that comes to mind anymore. I shook my head. "You have a lot of catching up to do, Meg."

Then, I went to a women's breakfast at my church this morning. The topic was dreaming. Not a difficult topic, considering I don't think I've ever been awake that early on a Saturday, except maybe when I had a track meet in grade school. Those were insane... I remember waking up at 4:30 so that we could drive hours into PA, and then running all day in the rain. All in all good memories, but still... its Saturday. Anyway, the speaker runs a dream interpretation group (not my friend Tiffany, although they sometimes work together). It was really interesting what she had to say about how dreams can bring people comfort and such. I was struck by a story she told:

She and her husband were living in an apartment in Hackensack. Their neighbors down the hall were elderly women. One was "eighty bazillion years old" and the other was "older than that." In her dream, she was standing in the bedroom of the younger elderly woman, just watching her, not doing anything. The room was heavy with the scent of Avon cream (she named the exact name of it, which I don't remember) and the woman was peacefully sleeping with a smile on her face. Then, the woman just quietly breathed her last, and she woke up. It was 5 am, and she woke her husband up to tell him. "Yeah... what'd you eat last night? Go back to sleep." That morning, they got up, her husband said goodbye and left for work. She was in the bathroom getting ready and her husband came back in. His face was grey. "The paramedics just brought a gurney in. The younger of the two women died in her sleep at 5 this morning." They later discovered from the other woman that the old woman had always been afraid of dying alone. Its a touching story, but there's one thing that stands out to me.

The old woman died peacefully, as if she knew there was someone there. If the dreamer's body was in bed with her husband, what part of her was with the old woman? How did this split occur? Am I reading too much into it? I admit I'm fascinated with dreams. I haven't checked, but I'm told 1/3 of the Bible (both Old and New Testaments) contains references to dreams and dreaming. Several of them occur with stories of people going to distant lands in a dream and influencing things there, probably the most famous journey being John's visit to Heaven in Revelation. Ever since I was in... perhaps 6th grade, I've always wondered, what would it be like to momentarily leave my body behind, and see things I'd probably never see otherwise?

Well, as I sat mulling this over, knitting and listening to my brother playing Halo, I began to be really tired... not surprising since today I was actually awake for my first meal to be considered breakfast instead of lunch. I began to ask God, "Will that ever happen to me? Will You do that for me? I know you control my dreams, and its probably no trouble for You." I don't know if He answered me, or if I answered me, but the question in my mind was, "Are you sure that's what you want?" I started to think... maybe I'm not ready. I admit I have a lot of fear in my life, especially with situations I've never before experienced. By this time I was exhausted and didn't much care, as long as I got my nap in. "Whatever is best for me right now God. You know my state of mind better than I do. If I'm ready then I want it with all my heart." Well, what came out of this insanely long story is that I came to realize today just how immature I am in certain areas. How much I really don't measure up at all and how unworthy I am of God's love and grace. God gave me a dream (I didn't quite travel anywhere), which I won't go into detail with just yet, but the bottom line is this: I can't just do it, I have to learn how, and I won't learn how to dream like that until I can learn how to live in my waking life first. Until I can learn to overcome fear, learn to recognize things about myself that I always just took for granted, and learn to trust God again. I still do, to an extent, but not like I used to, and not like I'd like to.

And anyway, I don't know what to say from there. Its been an interesting day (and perhaps a baffling one for some people who might read this) but overall, I think I learned a lot. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, and sweet dreams to "all y'all." :-)

FYI...

For the record, I was not high on anything when I wrote that last entry, nor was I drunk. Also, while my mood is still decently the same, today was still a Tuesday, and my energy level plummeted around 5:00. By the time I got to my jujitsu class, I thought I would drop right there, and when we went to the student center at 11, I spaced out and didn't hear Scott (my sensei) ask me a question. But still, today was an amazing day, because it felt completely different. Its good to be able to strengthen relationships like I did today. Looking back, actually, there were a lot of them. The main one being my relationship with God, since, obviously, he was the only one who wasn't hindered by a class schedule. With him on my mind for most of today, I had a lot of opportunities to hash things out. Things I like about my life, things I want to change, a little room for complaints (or, a lot of room). Basically, things I haven't told God in a long time because I let stuff get in the way. I guess in a way, it helped me start to care about things more. For example, my friends. I started praying for them, something I haven't done with "umph" for a while. People who are engaged, people who are pregnant, someone I know in Iraq, and thanks that the others have come home safely, prayers for a marriage going down the drain, prayers for a friend who is questioning life (I sure know how that feels...). I believe pretty strongly in the power of prayers, but its been a while since I've acted on it. Anyway, that's my addendum. I like that word. Anyway, goodnight.

a rare occasion

Ok, its a Tuesday, in the Spring semester of my junior year, and its the first Tuesday where I'm not completely drained emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Not to mention its the first Tuesday where I'm in a good mood. This is amazing. And I can't even figure out why I'm not having a bad day. I'm short on sleep, have a lot of homework, have been doing homework constantly for it feels like forever, and I have four classes, plus jujitsu later tonight. But today feels different.

A quick observation: it seems like for the first two years that I was at Rutgers, I felt like I was the only Christian on the whole campus of what- 15,000 students? More than that? I don't even know. And then this year, my junior year, suddenly I'm meeting all these new people and a good portion of them are Christians, but I wasn't actually seeking them out. We would meet for other reasons. It just feels weird, because... where were they the other two years?

And the last thing I have to say before I go to the other half of my classes for the day is this: Only a few times in the past have I felt as if God is walking right beside me, everywhere I go, and its been happening today. Usually I feel as if God is watching over me, sort of the concept of the old guy in the sky. But today, it feels like he's not just over me, he's right there with me, going through everything with me. I don't know where this feeling came from, and as much as I hope it would never go away, I know that there will be other times in my life where I feel like everyone, even God, is distant. But for today, if you see me on the street, maybe you'll catch sight of two pairs of footsteps in the mud instead of one. Would anyone care to join me-n-God on a stroll sometime?

Ok, I'm a little corny today... kangaroo!! La de da. Whatever, I should stop boring you. Off to class. Bye.

c'era una volta

That's Italian for "once upon a time." I'm going to tell a story now.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who had a dream. In her dream, her birthday was coming up, and her mother made her a white, fluffy cake, with lots of creamy frosting. It was like biting into a little piece of heaven. Mommy, what kind of cake is this? she asked. Her mother told her it was called a French Blessing Cake. The little girl was almost sorry to wake up, because the dream was so beatiful. Everyday, she would wake up, and think about that dream, and she never forgot how beautiful it was. Finally, after many days passed, her real birthday came, and her mother came and asked her what she would like for her birthday. And the little girl said, "Could you make me a French Blessing Cake?" Her mother didn't know what that was, and had to look it up in the cookbook. "Ohhh" she said. "A French Blessing Cake. Yes, I've heard of this. But honey, the French Blessing Cake can't be made without eggs, and you know that we don't have any." Because in that part of the land, there had been a blight that killed off all of the chickens for miles around, much like the death of the American Chestnuts a few years ago. When the mother saw the little girl's sad face, she said, "Don't worry honey, there are plenty of cakes that can be made without eggs. You can look through the entire cookbook and pick any other cake you want and I will bake it for you. The little girl's heart had fallen a little, but she thought of her dream, and decided that her memories were good enough. She looked at the cookbook. "No thank you, Mommy. If I can't have the French Blessing Cake, then I'll just go without one." Her mother put the cookbook away. "Don't you want anything for your birthday?" The little girl smiled. "I have you and all the rest of our family, and all of my memories of the French Blessing Cake. I don't need anything else, but thank you." So the little girl never ate cake again, because she was quite satisfied with her memories.

Ok at this point you are saying, "Meg's lost her marbles..." Well, maybe I have. I had a conversation with a friend of mine about some stuff I've been going through... all this pretty heavy thinking I've been doing. And I couldn't seem to articulate how I feel, until after I hung up with her, I got this idea. So instead of writing my 5-page paper due tomorrow, I'm doing this. Goodbye sleep.

So yeah, I've also been doing a lot of other thinking. At first I wondered if my memories could possibly be enough, but I'm discovering that they are almost more than I can handle. There's no need for any other cake. I also discovered that I'm trying to heal from a breakup that never wounded me. Anyone halfway involved in my life will say, yeah, right. But let me explain. I went through all the emotions involved with a break-up, loneliness and vulnerability being the biggest. But they were not wounds. No where do I feel as if I am bleeding. Instead, I feel as if I'm lifting a heavy burden on my back. It may have potential for wounding me, but right now its only a burden. I think that now that I understand that, I will be able to stop treating the wound that isn't there, and start focusing my energies on other, more important things. Granted, I'll still complain a bit in this blog, but everyone has their ups and downs.

And, having said that, I'm going to have to leave you hanging. Because I have a 5-page paper to write about the Ako Vendetta, which was carried out by 47 samurai in 1702 to avenge the death of their late master. Joy.

HMM...

My dreams are back... After church on Sunday, something happened which sort of tested my convictions. "Are you sure you know what love is? Are you prepared to prove it?" And I know in my mind what I have to do, but I hesitated. And then I started having all these crazy dreams. I know that in this case, its not just something I ate the night before, and that I'm supposed to learn something through them. I even have a little inkling of what it is I'm supposed to learn. But I don't want to believe I know what they mean.

Take this one for instance: I dreamed I murdered someone, but I couldn't see their face. There wasn't much struggle, it was a quick strangle with a bandanna, from behind... trecherous me... I knew there was no reason for it, and I knew it was both wrong and unexcused (excused being something like self-defense). So I sat in my kitchen waiting for the police to come. When they got there, I realized it was my uncle (who in reality is a plumber, not a cop) who was investigating. He examined the bodies (where the second one came from I'm not sure) and, long story shortened a bit, he sat me down and told me that none of this ever happened because it is a dream telling me what might happen in the future (spiritually, emotionally?) if I don't heed the warning. What was the warning? He never said. But the last thing I heard before I woke up was that the bodies were two lovers who'd killed each other on a date.

Sounds like kind of a pessimistic view on love. But I think I'm supposed to figure out the warning for myself. Which is something I am not sure I have the spiritual or emotional energy to do. But anyway... there's more to this whole theory I have about this dream... but I guess right now, I don't have the courage to face it and put it in words in a blog. Or even in my private journal.

So yeah... bottom line: God is giving me a pop-quiz on what I wrote about on Sunday. I think its pass/fail, and I don't know how I'm going to do. Time will tell.

"what is this thing called love?"

That's a song from Delirious above... its a good song, but I can't believe I could have forgotten about love. Last night, I was struggling with feeling guilty about something I did. It added to my general feelings of unrest about my life. This morning, however, I went to church and God beat me over the head with some song lyrics. "The holy heart was sacrificed, this is love, this is love." How could I have forgotten that "I love you" means "I care so much that its going to cost me something to be with you"? Despite my guilt and the things I've done, God still loves me. There were other lyrics too: "Like a rose, trampled on the ground, you took the fall and thought of me." That song though, I liked more because of its poetry and imagery than anything else. But still... God thinks about me. That concept just hit home today. I don't deserve it, but that's how it is. Actually I can think of a few other people in my life who really don't deserve my thoughts, yet I think about them all the time too, because I love them. And God is the same way, and its one of those things thats kind of hard to wrap my mind around.

On the bus back to my dorm, the sun was shining in my window, and hit my scarf, which is made of multicolored ribbon knitted together. I don't know what it is, but I felt like I was seeing those colors for the first time, and rather than seeing red, blue, green, etc, I felt as if I were looking at garnets and emeralds and sapphires and topaz. The sun shines brighter today... and I guess if we had grass, it'd be a little greener in my eyes.

Life's not perfect right now, and probably won't ever be perfect, but I'm slowly figuring things out and learning from it. I'm learning that despite life's imperfection, there's still a perfect love available that lets me see the beautiful parts and helps me make it through the bad parts alive.

La Traviata

I went to see the opera last night. I had no idea that Moulin Rouge was inspired by Verdi. It had to have been- the plot was the same. If not, it would be plagiarism. A consumptive courtesan finds her true love, she leaves her current partner (who happens to have a title of nobility), her father-figure convinces her she must go back to her old life, she convinces her love that she doesn't love him, he follows her, throws money at her for her services, they make up, and she collapses dead in his arms. Same plot for both. So it was a little strange, but a pleasant surprise that I was watching a less-sexed version of Moulin Rouge. The only thing was, it was also less emotional, and not in my native language. So I enjoyed it for the memories of Moulin Rouge that it brought to mind, but not for La Traviata itself. Which only makes me want to watch the movie again. But still... I felt cultured last night. I went to Intermezzo at Cooper with some friends, so I had a nice dinner. Then I changed into something a little bit dressed up (meaning not blue jeans) and watched an opera in another language, understanding the parts that were not drowned out by the orchestra. It was relaxing. I needed to relax. So it was good. I don't think I've been completely relaxed in a while.

PS. If you are mad at me because I ruined the plot of either the movie or the opera, don't be. The first line in the movie is, "This is a story about love. The woman I loved is dead." So I didn't really ruin the plot there. And now that you know its the same plot as La Traviata, then the movie ruined the plot of the opera, not me. Not like it really mattered, though; since the opera was less emotional, her death was sort of non-important when she collapsed.

PPS. That makes me think about emotions. I never really noticed how important they are until yesterday afternoon, when I began to think about all the important memories in my life. I realized that the days when nothing happened emotionally are the days that sort of blur into the past, but the highly emotional days seem to be landmarks in my memory of my life. I think that if we turn off emotion completely, we won't remember anything about our past. Could be why I can't remember 9th and half of 10th grade. It sounds like a basic concept, and I sort of already knew it, but this is the first time I put it into words. Its very interesting.