I didn’t go out last night.
Too tired, and when I got home, I couldn’t get off the couch.
I thought about why I had wanted to go out so much, why I felt trapped by giving it up, and how good I felt in the morning that I didn’t go out.
I thought about how fickle it was.
The bar will be there tomorrow.
My friends will be there tomorrow.
This last one – my friends – perhaps not. Perhaps they won’t be there tomorrow.
Who are my friends?
Do I have any friends?
I remember ‘friends’ being a really important thing.
I had good friends in high-school, better ones in college.
Now I have people I see at work, and those I see at the bar, and my cousins, and my family and my boyfriend.
I don’t have friends, I don’t think.
Friends get married, and drive bigger cars than I do. They have intelligent things to talk about and have places they are going.
Friends become lawyers and doctors and ministers.
They become big people.
It sort of interupts things.
Today I had to look at beautiful things.
So I noticed that stereo sound is beautiful. That some images are beautiful. Ha…that my television is beautiful, and I do mean the television itself! Someone thought about how it looks sitting on flat surfaces, whether glossy or matt, the proportion of border to screen.
I looked an an orchid today, looked at my boyfriend, watched a series on people who give their money away and I recognised that I really don’t understand beauty.
For me beautiful is a deed. As these millionaires were giving away their money and changing peoples lives, I thought that was beautiful and I cried.
The only other thing I think is beautiful is a well designed car.
Oh, and architecture.
Todays look at beauty around me is what had me signed up to the hundred days of prayer in the first place. The lady had said that most of us are too busy or too hurt to notice the things that are put into our day – beautiful things – to lift us up.
Although I wasn’t lifted by the beauty around me, I will concede; the orchid WAS beautiful.
I’m liking that everyday I have something to think about that intrudes on my life, that I’m getting to stop and ponder something outside of my own feeling and emotions, that I’m recognising that most of the day I’m driven from thought to thought with no real idea why I’m having these thoughts and why I’m doing, the things I do.
I watched a woman look into a mirror and say to herself that she was beautiful, even though she’d had a masectomy and not gone for reconstructive surgery.
I’m thinking that perhaps that beautiful little thing could be me.
Am I a beautiful little thing?
What did Jesus think about beauty? You know – not ‘The Beauty Of It All’, just – I son’t know – what were beautiful things to him? Objects, things, the images around him. This as a man, as a human being, not as God.
What kind of carpentry did he make?
Day three and I’m wondering why I’m following him into the desert.
I think it’s the desert I’m going – I realise in shock that I don’t really know what lent is – thought it was the time Jesus spent 40 days in the desert BUT how can this be if actually, he’s going to be crucified in 40 days?
These posts are longer than I anticipated. I’m having fun being different from the people around me. I’m having fun creating my experience.
Oh give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name;
make known his deeds among the peoples!
Sing to him, sing praises to him;
tell of all his wondrous works! —Psalm 105:1-2