m o v e m e n t

what i’m just now coming to realize is that the difference between the terror and the thrill–that razor-edge that separates the two, is faith.

i remember sending up a particularly vociferous prayer towards the start of the year, which wasn’t so much a prayer as a demand, what do you want from me? what do you want from me? six words i said again and again. six words i angrily flung upward. and the answer came back immediate and clear: more faith.

more faith.

which at the time i thought meant more patience, and patience has never been my virtue.

but now, these many months later, i don’t think it is patience. it’s not about more patience or less patience. it’s about a seed of self-belief. and how that seed is actually a divine thing. it’s about embracing the bits that don’t make any sense. trusting that the story is in fact made by the departures and aberrations. it’s about wonder and curiosity. about moving forward and upward even if the movement is a sort of graceless thrashing about. it’s about clawing and clamoring and dirt beneath the fingernails. it’s about saying i don’t know. and i don’t know. and i don’t know, again. because one day i will. and if one believes that in the end it’ll all work out–even and most especially in the face of overwhelming doubt–than those moments of discomfort and unease and fear are made sweet and holy and wholly lovely by their impermanence.

//Meg Fee//

Today is not my day

Why is it that we, as human beings, can go an entire movie full of gore and people getting shot and killed right and left and it doesn't phase us.... then we turn around and watch a movie about one single puppy who dies and we all sob like a little baby??

Yeah. I used to ask myself that same question.
Well, not to throw myself a pity party or anything but, you guys, I totally get it. My little dog Moka has been diagnosed with full-blown diabetes and in the past week has gone totally blind. Diabetes is nasty business, people. Put that sugar down.

But seriously. This is rough. I am all the sudden this little emotional wreck. I am pretty tough when I make up my mind to be (and the fact that I cry in pretty much every single movie is simply
because I choose to, okay? It's a choice. I like investing it all into movies). But you guys. This is pretty bad. This is sweet little Moka! He only has a few more months.. if that. And you can tell he is suffering greatly but he still keeps his tail wagging and tries to be all cheerful. If you don't believe me, just come over. It's ridiculous, and inspiring, and totally heart-wrenching.
Because yes, we could treat him, but it would cost over $3,000 bucks, and it would require giving him shots twice every single day. Now, I'm no Einstein, but I do know that dogs HATE shots. They don't understand them. Also, hypoglycemia is hard enough to recognize in a human, let alone a little dog! That would be complicated, too.

Let's ignore the poor quality of my phone's camera and just bask in how cute this lil' lion is. He has lost about 10 pounds in a month..... he doesn't look this hearty anymore :(

Mine is a life that has not experienced the death of anyone that close to me, I have experienced the death of many of my patients, and our old dog Molly a long time ago, but this is different. So.... I don't really know what to do with myself. But in order to not make this post totally depressing let's just all end on this thought:

Try to be the person 

your dog thinks you are.

Just do it.
K thanks bye.

love is all, from what I've heard

I'm a really old guy, so when I tell you that nothing matters more than love, listen.

I've been wondering a lot lately. I used to think we loved people because we had the best image in mind, we'll love them because they fit the pattern. The more I have experience with love, respect, admiration, the more it has to do with the dropcloth.  The more I love my wife, and don't tell her this because I am in pursuit of urging her to drop some of her bad habits, but I think I love her more for those weird things than for the things that fit the pattern. It is because of who she is, who she uniquely is.  Everything has a pattern in it, an individual instinctual pattern.  In that individuation, it is God.  He is in us, he is somehow really in us.  God's creativity is reflective in our individuality. That is why our individuality matters so. We are bleered, shmeered, smeared with Man's smudge and smell, and it is absolutely beautiful.  How long would it take Salt Lake City, if people left it alone, to come back to the way God intended? I bet in fifty years, you'd have a hard time telling it was there ever.  The world is overused and under-appreciated.  The world resurrects, but sooner or later we're going to die as a result of abusing it. It is not a theological ideal. It's like the way we love, it's real. We genuinely do it. We can't help but respond to the individuality of another person. The nasty and the lovely are inherent in the other.  If you change your perception, it is all there, and that's okay. It's the connectiveness, connectivity that gets me. It's sacramental. Its going everywhere, but its all coming close.

It is ramifying.

//Steven Walker//

November 14th, 2013

Here's a thought.

Sometimes all we can do, in regards to the suffering of those we love, is to stand on the side of the shore while we watch them in the midst of the storm, battling the waves, purely alone. We want so badly to swim out there and save them, to calm the storm, throw out a rope, anything, but we cannot-- we can only stand and watch it all, feeling helpless, small, completely useless.

Has anyone else experienced that feeling?

I feel like it happens to me on the daily. I see so much pain and suffering in this world (amidst the good-- there is always good for those who see it). Especially as a nurse and friend.
And I just want to fix it all. If a tiny little heart like mine can feel that kind of magnitude, then what of a God in Heaven who looks down upon it? He must weep. I have no doubt in that. And how He must wish to fix it, too. But He does not always do so. And there is great wisdom in that, a higher way, a greater love.

"I'm a really old guy, so when I tell you that nothing matters more than love, listen."

Sometimes, while standing on the shore, we realize that the only thing we can do is fall to our knees-- but there is power in that. Praying for someone. With real intent. Exercising faith in that prayer. I believe in the power of that channel, the power of faith to change.

Faith is tangible. It is real. It is more than a feeling, it is a force, and it changes things. It is powerful and if we feel that is all we can do is pray for them with faith well, that is a remarkable thing.

So don't give up on them. Don't ever, ever stop loving them. Pray for them. Send that faith their way-- that force for good.  There are miracles everywhere. Faith is the key to creating those miracles. I will never stop believing in that.

These chilluns are up to no good

It is a beautiful fall day and wonderful for many reasons-- one being that I just can't seem to stop smiling. I'll get to the main reason for that soon but first, a story: I was getting into my car to speed off to the bank and pay my dues when I noticed a tiny little boy looking longingly in my direction (he was selling something, and I was, conveniently, the only soul in sight). I backed up and called, "how much?"-- he eagerly responded. "Twenty-five cents!" I assumed that the liquid in the opaque container by his side was lemonade and I dug around my change drawer to find a quarter. I handed it to him and he carefully began to gather my loot. He placed a cup carefully on a tree stump and, clasping the pitcher with both hands, used all his concentration to pour me some. To my surprise, the liquid coming out of the pitcher was not lemonade at all, rather, it was crystal-clear, state of the art, lukewarm, shimmering water. As soon as I realized this, I couldn't help but notice that he had poured me not only water, but less than half-of-a-Styrofoam-cup's worth of it.

Lil' whippersnapper was about this age.. I just thought I'd throw in a Taiwanese picture as well. For obvious reasons. via

"What are you saving up for?" (It looked like he had about two dollars by now)
Enthusiastically, "A hotel!" ---
ha ha oh, I was laughing SO hard inside. He was thee cutest little guy. I drank my 2 swallows of water and wished him luck and went on my merry way. A few thoughts crossed my mind, firstly, times are-a-changin'. I seem to remember a time when I spent a fair amount of time carefully mixing up some cool-aid or lemonade with great attention, and when I had a buyer, a FULL cup was delivered their way. Are we really in such difficult times that one quarter will buy but a third a cup of water? My second thought was that his hotel is probably going to be the kind of business that scrimps and scrounges and cuts a lot of corners. We all know the ones-- we arrive to find them looking not a bit like the sophisticated pictures online-- and of course the continental breakfast leaves much to be desired. Despite it all though, I hope that little guy goes far.

Alright-- Let's get to it- I AM GOING TO TAIWAN!  21 dreamers, and only 12 spots-- and once again the Big Man Upstairs allows little old me to have this opportunity. I feel so elated, so humbled, and so blessed. I get to go spend a month in that fabulous part of the world, and do nursey things, and learn nursey stuff. And scuba dive. And maybe even try out some acupuncture.
More details to come soon, but in the meantime I will be continuing to scrimp and scrounge every single penny so that I can make the $1000 down-payment on time (November 19th). Don't call me about midnight pizza runs or tempt me with anything that requires spending money, people. This is serious business.

Also, for the first time in my life my body is able to function on less than 5 hours of sleep. Nursing school is finally getting adjusted to. It's about TIME, fools! Glory hallelujah!
(**Disclaimer: As a student nurse/future RN it is my job to er, promote health. Therefore, GET MORE THAN 5 HOURS OF SLEEP!! And eat your fruits and veggies!
There.
As soon as I am done with school, I will get 8 again, because I am an old lady already anyway, and I like me some sleep. But for now, I sacrifice my health and sleep for 3 years in order to promote yours. Makes sense, right? Uhh. Right.)