Friendly Poetry

After an evening with a friend sitting at her dining room table, reading poetry and prose talking about our hearts' desires, I find myself at home alone in bed with Minka the cat and Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet and feel moved to share my thankfulness for friends and their -ship.

"And a youth said, Speak to us of Friendship.
And he answered, saying:
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clear in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let you best be for you friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed."

Thankful for all "hours to live" with you,

Sarah

Stereograms and Teddy Grahams

What do I want?
Everything!
A little at a time,
And all at once.

Shaken together with water
From the fountain of youth
Brewed with wise herbs
Maybe a little prophecy
And "things we're all too young to know"

Sure...
Give me a legend,
An anthem,
Car keys,
Piano keys,
Stereograms,
Teddy Grahams,
And a kiss
To analyze while I think no thoughts save, "Live. Just freaking live!"
Save. Live.

What do I want?
Enough. This. That's all, thanks. For now.
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When I was a kid, I wasn't allowed to watch movies unless they were made by Hanna-Barbara or came from our local library. Along with the standard Disney films and the Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, I remember finding one lesser gem of cinematic magic on the shelves--Bedknobs and Broomsticks. It was basically Mary Poppins except, instead of bottomless Carpet Bags and talking Umbrellas with Julie Andrews, it was Bedknobs and Broomsticks with Angela Lansbury. I bring it up because of the Bedknobs more than the Broomsticks. The whole film is about Angela, the English children she cares for, and the places they're able to travel by sitting on a large wire-framed bed and turning one brass bedknob three turns to the left...or was it to the right?

I'm in bed now. And I sometimes wish I could see and accomplish more from here. But it's not a bad thing to sit at the end of the day and just reflect. To be honest, this may be one of the few times I've been still and alone in the past six weeks. I've changed rotations and households, gotten two promising leads for future jobs, traveled thousands of miles, hosted friends who've traveled thousands of miles, fallen out of friendship and into friendship, and discovered that I really, really like having a hot tub.

But let's start with today. Just one day.

I work in finance now. I don't really know what that means yet. But I'll try to explain.
Today between half a dozen different if-then formulas, my spreadsheets turned into one of those hidden-image stereograms (you know, like the birthday cards that look like TV snow and make you cross-eyed until suddenly a dolphin or a mermaid or a stallion levitates into perception). That's Microsoft Excel.
Excel. Excel. Excel. Sometimes I forget that word means anything other than mouse clicks and 18 million possible data points. Enter, format, pivot, refresh, and then...AUDIT!

Even so, I think I lived today. I think I got what I woke up wanting. I think I covered some good ground with my brain. I played hopscotch around the world and met friends in every square. I think I sat still enough to just be a human being. I think I moved enough to pick up more speed tomorrow if speed is what I need. I think I gave something away without expecting anything in return. I think there was true love in the creases and seams holding things together.

Today was a good day. And the closer I get to sleep, the more the thinking melts away, and I just remember the ordinary magic of living and look forward to dreams that I may not remember or ever understand.

Life isn't easy, but at least it's interesting.

I still kind of wish my bed had knobs though. (There's no way to make that sound less awkward.)

Oh, well...

Happy Now?

Now, what's that?
It's your birthday?
Oh, I forgot.
It's Hanukah.
So, Merry Christmas.
And Happy New Year to you, too!
St. Patty's Day.
Hip. Hip. Hooray!
Well, take that sucker.
April Fools!

Happy Now?
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It's normal to want stuff out of life. Like being happy. Or being thin.

Elna Baker wanted to be thin. I'm reading her memoir The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance, and I just finished the chapter called Pooping Out a Fourth Grader in which she loses 80 pounds, the equivalent of pooping out a fourth grader. At the halfway mark in the weight-loss saga, she freaks out that she's not going to make it, then on her way back into New York City after an appointment with her weight-loss doctor she sees...a billboard. Here it is as only Elna can describe:

"Impossible is Nothing," it said. "Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

It was a sporting goods ad and, while I knew this sign was created by people who probably employed Ecuador's children to make a profit, I didn't care. I practically stood up in my seat and threw my arms in the air like Rocky. It was a sign--literally.

"Impossible is Nothing," I said. "Impossible is Nothing."

You can do this, a voice spoke to me. I felt a warm feeling in the center of my chest. Just keep doing everything your doctor tells you to word for word and let time pass. Change is a combination of effort and time. Keep going.

It's hard to describe what it feels like when God speaks to you. It's peaceful; every little bad thought and feeling is instantly washed away and your mind feels clear. There's a scripture in the Bible that puts it better than I ever could. Basically it says that there was a strong wind that broke the rocks into pieces, but God wasn't in the wind, and after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn't in the earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, but God wasn't in the fire, and after the fire a still, small voice, and God was in the still, small voice.

Thank you, God, thank you, I prayed. We can do this. I know we can."

Thank God. And thank you, Elna. Now, it's my turn.

So, there's a prayer I've been praying lately. Lately, as in my whole life.

"God, I'm so happy...but, there's just this one thing..."

That pretty much sums it up.
One moment I am overwhelmed by the warm fuzzies. Then I sigh and think "if only..."

On one hand this makes sense.
I mean the world is a tough place from obesity and shifting tectonic plates to cold spaghetti with a broken microwave.
But on the other hand...
"If only..." what?

Here are some things people like me probably say:

If only I knew what I wanted to do with my life...more specificallly.
If only I got a bigger tax return.
If only I had a different job.
If only my boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife treated me this way or thought that way.
If only I had a boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife.
If only I had kids.
If only I was in better shape.
If only I could move to Italy.
If only I was as cool as Tara B. (Let's face it. We've all thought this before.)

Why is simply being happy so complicated?
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After his wife told him she didn't love him anymore and his best friend committed suicide, Neil Pasricha started a blog called 1000 Awesome Things where he writes a daily post about something awesome. In an interview, with Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project, Neil had this to say about life and happiness.

"...I feel like 99.9% of our days are filled with little things. They’re filled with thank-you waves on the highway, slipping through a door that’s shutting without touching it, and hitting a string of green lights on the way home from work. They’re filled with the smell of frying onions, the peacefulness of a baby falling asleep on you, and the rush of waking up the next morning and realizing you’ve got an hour left to sleep.

And sure, we may save our cash up and go on a dream cruise for a few days, but even that cruise is about the red sun setting on the horizon and the sweaty hand you’re holding on the deck."

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I'm so happy...

This morning my cat Tux crawled up on my lap as I finished my bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats. Purring loudly, he stretched his front paws up onto my shoulder and nuzzled his head under my chin and just let me hold him. My cat gives me hugs! I still remember the night our neighbor brought the little guy to our doorstep. She found him in the gutter out in front of our house. He had big blue eyes and was small enough to fit in my one hand. He slept in my bed with me that first night. I'm pretty sure he had fleas.

About a month ago, we had a whole slew of visitors living in our house. Nine total. Deija and Annie were two of them. They are seven and six years old respectively. We had breakfast together in the mornings, and at night they begged for bedtime stories. I told them about almost getting shot after pilfering wishing-well money out of atrium fountains at the Grand Ol Opry Hotel. I read them my favorite kids books. We laughed and snuggled. They were cool little people.

On Tuesday, I met Tiffany and Katie at the gym for BATs class which stands for Buns, Abs, and Thighs. It's kind of like a no-mercy battle plan named after its target. Afterwards, Katie fed me yummy Chinese food for dinner while Brad took a study break to tell us really animated stories in their bright-yellow kitchen. Then I ran back to the gym for the first co-ed soccer game of the season where we won and played so hard we all needed subs. It was a great night. Just great.

I'm so happy...
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One time, Nicholas L. had a wise moment while we were talking on the phone. We were talking about stories and movies and what makes them good or bad and what makes life good or bad, happy or sad.
Here's Nick's idea, but not really in Nick's words:

"Screenplays are written in three acts, and Act 3 is where the resolution happens. Well, we live with these expectations about what should be the Act 3 resolution in our life story. A lot of times we think it's marriage or money or just some other thing we don't have yet. But the more I think about it, and the more I live, the more I think Act 3 isn't supposed to happen here. I mean here on this planet in this life..."

If not here, then where?

If not now, then when?

"If only...?"
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1 Kings 9:11-13
"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"
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What are you doing here?