Ari, in Daily Psalms I'm up to 42 today and I thought of you and your Lenten gleee!verse.
***
This morning, in one of my many rounds of "Talking aloud to God and also rehearsing conversations I probably won't have and emails I probably won't write," I was thinking about how I like being angry at someone -- there's a visceral appeal to that certainty that oneself is right and another is wrong, especially coming from a history of spending so much time not sure whether I'm the one in the wrong.
But some of my anger is a pre-emptive response to stuff the other person might not even be thinking (silence is FRUSTRATING), and I need to let go of that some.
+
I think I'm supposed to be patient.
I did this (working on being patient) so much last year, and part of me really resists the idea that I'm not done with that, and the past two weeks I've been telling myself that I just have to wait until this week or next to raise this concern, but today I feel like I'm supposed to be patient (knowing that this could likely mean waiting until May or June or July). This occurred to me in part, I think, out of the realization that I really was feeling like I wanted to pick a fight (*sings "So What"*), which is not the mentality with which to approach an interaction one wants to be fruitful.
+
I was thinking yesterday that I should be more present in Holy Week.
Today, I pulled up Velveteen Rabbi on my blogfeed and saw a post on "exiting mitzrayim," which is one part of the haggadah I'd forgotten about yesterday, but which speaks to me right now.
Just the idea of mitzrayim (and exiting such) speaks to me, but as I actually read the post, this stuck out at me:
We talk about "already and not yet" -- re: the kin(g)dom of God -- and I think that's probably a useful framing for me in a number of areas.
***
I drafted this entry earlier today, and after my talk of letting go and such, I had what I would later call during Prayers of the People "glimpses of reconciliation and moments of grace." (Some of which gave me pause wondering whether we are both even reading the same text when it comes to this relationship.)
In other good news: At Rest and Bread, I was the co-celebrant, and Laura Ruth was so grateful. And in cleaning up she asked me to water the lawn with the leftover wine (I would have drunk it, but I'd already had a glass of champagne and a glass of Pinot Noir that afternoon, so I was done) and it was in a chalice so I did this kind of arc and I decided to continue it in a circle and I spun around a few times and felt like I was doing this nice pagan ritual or something and found myself singing "Holy holy holy, Lord God Almighty..." And we went to Blue Shirt Cafe for dinner, and they have a much bigger menu than I remember (I got the Thai Peanut Tofu Wrap *thumbs up*) and also much more room than I remember, and we were there until literally like 9:30.
P.S. Finale blueberry cheesecake: recommended.
***
This morning, in one of my many rounds of "Talking aloud to God and also rehearsing conversations I probably won't have and emails I probably won't write," I was thinking about how I like being angry at someone -- there's a visceral appeal to that certainty that oneself is right and another is wrong, especially coming from a history of spending so much time not sure whether I'm the one in the wrong.
But some of my anger is a pre-emptive response to stuff the other person might not even be thinking (silence is FRUSTRATING), and I need to let go of that some.
+
I think I'm supposed to be patient.
I did this (working on being patient) so much last year, and part of me really resists the idea that I'm not done with that, and the past two weeks I've been telling myself that I just have to wait until this week or next to raise this concern, but today I feel like I'm supposed to be patient (knowing that this could likely mean waiting until May or June or July). This occurred to me in part, I think, out of the realization that I really was feeling like I wanted to pick a fight (*sings "So What"*), which is not the mentality with which to approach an interaction one wants to be fruitful.
+
I was thinking yesterday that I should be more present in Holy Week.
Today, I pulled up Velveteen Rabbi on my blogfeed and saw a post on "exiting mitzrayim," which is one part of the haggadah I'd forgotten about yesterday, but which speaks to me right now.
Just the idea of mitzrayim (and exiting such) speaks to me, but as I actually read the post, this stuck out at me:
I have to find a way to understand (again) that I'm always already liberated, that the freedom we celebrate at Pesach is always real. That's what redemption means. We speak in our liturgy about God Who redeems us from slavery -- that's always ongoing.I was struck by how Christian this sounded (which I suppose shouldn't be surprising).
We talk about "already and not yet" -- re: the kin(g)dom of God -- and I think that's probably a useful framing for me in a number of areas.
***
I drafted this entry earlier today, and after my talk of letting go and such, I had what I would later call during Prayers of the People "glimpses of reconciliation and moments of grace." (Some of which gave me pause wondering whether we are both even reading the same text when it comes to this relationship.)
In other good news: At Rest and Bread, I was the co-celebrant, and Laura Ruth was so grateful. And in cleaning up she asked me to water the lawn with the leftover wine (I would have drunk it, but I'd already had a glass of champagne and a glass of Pinot Noir that afternoon, so I was done) and it was in a chalice so I did this kind of arc and I decided to continue it in a circle and I spun around a few times and felt like I was doing this nice pagan ritual or something and found myself singing "Holy holy holy, Lord God Almighty..." And we went to Blue Shirt Cafe for dinner, and they have a much bigger menu than I remember (I got the Thai Peanut Tofu Wrap *thumbs up*) and also much more room than I remember, and we were there until literally like 9:30.
P.S. Finale blueberry cheesecake: recommended.