I knew it when I saw it.  The Spot.  The way the sun was hitting the hillside, the way the tall grass was lit in evening orange on one side and shadowed on the other, I knew this was it.  If I'd passed it an hour earlier, I doubt this would have been The Spot, but at this particular time, as afternoon was passing its rule to evening, it was perfect.  I pulled my car to the shoulder of the road and walked up the hillside.  I turned and sat facing the sun, and watched the river meandering peacefully on its way.

It was an odd time, this.  For once my mind was silent, though I knew it wouldn't remain so for long.  There were too many questions, too much future to worry about, and too much past to regret.  And so I remained in the present wondering how much present I even had left.

I laid back on the hillside and let myself feel the weight of my body pressed into the ground beneath me.  I felt life in the green of the grass and the blue of the sky and the orange of the sun, even as I knew my own might be slowly draining away.  I imagined what it might be like to lay on this sun-drenched hillside while my body turned slowly into dirt, and green life grew slowly through me.  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, becoming one with the Earth.  Maybe there is a peace in that.  And if there was a spot for me to stay forever, maybe this was it.

I should blog.  What happened to all those blogging ideas I had when I was in the van yesterday?  Seems they are gone.  But I should write something.  I wonder if anyone has emailed me on facebook.  Maybe I'll check that first.  Nope.  Though I have several to answer.  Oh look who added me as a friend!  I was wondering what happened to him!  He's married?  I thought he was gay.  Proof once again that I have broken gaydar.  And who is this other guy?  Do I know him?  Why is he adding me as a friend?  Oh, I recognize him now, but I thought his last name was Flowers?  Either way he is clearly related more to my parent's past than to mine.

I wonder if anyone else has posted anything on Multiply?  Nope.  Read it all.  Okay, I'll check my gmail account (again).  Nothing there either.  And I'm done all my Scrabulous games.  Maybe Trudy's put something different up since this morning.  *sigh*  Nope.

Maybe I'll have to blog after all.

Does anybody ever wish they could delete themselves from the Internet?  I don't mean just disappear and leave websites stagnant for awhile.  I mean truly delete.  I know the moment will likely pass, but right now I am resisting the urge to delete myself from Multiply...all my blogs, pictures, videos, music...EVERYTHING.  And then go to my Facebook account and do the same...then on to MSN, my email accountsthe mailing lists I belong to, delete forum entries...and then cancel my ISP.

"Just before our love got lost you said, "I am as constant as the Northern Star" and I said, "Constantly in darkness, where's that at?  If you want me I'll be in the bar."  --Joni Mitchell

Where the moment is the only thing that is sure, and that depending on sanity, perception and a host of other things, I can see why people long for constancy.  On one hand, there is an ennui to the idea of a never-changing-what-have-you.  But on the other hand, the security is like concrete beneath feet.

I'll admit it.  I am afraid of change.  I am afraid that people who are around now won't be tomorrow, or in 10 years.  I can see why people like the idea of God, so that no matter what changes, at least that will be constant and never changing.  In a world where everything is temporary, having something that's not temporary would feel a little like concrete (especially when that something comes with the promise of eventually making things permanent).

But God, to me, is in the abstract, and doesn't make constant my day to day.  And any constancy I attribute to him at this point is as good as imagined, since the promised constancy seems always in the future.  Sure I can convince myself that it's now, that amid losses and findings there is a constant intelligence ever moving things toward a peaceful ending (or beginning).  And as usual, I still hope that is the case.  But for now, I just have to make the best decisions I can, knowing that losses will still come, and some will break my heart.

People are writing at an unreadable rate.  I popped into a bookstore yesterday and found thousands of books.  Maybe millions.  If I cut out the books that I wouldn't find interesting, there would probably still be hundreds in there that I'd like to read.  And that doesn't include the books that aren't in there, but can be gotten online.

And yet, if I go to the "Community and Culture" section, and look for the particular community and culture that interests me, I find four books...none of which I want to read.

Over and up a shelf, though, I found "Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart:  Thirty True Things You Need To Know Now".  As I scanned the table of contents, I discovered that of the thirty things, seven of them needed to be read immediately.  And so I did.

I'd tell you which seven, but seriously, don't you find there is too much to read already?  Why should I add that much more to it?

The temptation is to look at the destination as the ultimate goal.  I know it's been said a billion times...it's 'the journey' that's important.  But it's been said a million times because so many of us just don't seem to get it.  And so we have to hear it again and again.  It's like those times as a child when I'd say to my mother, "Sheesh mom, how many times do you have to tell me", and she'd point out to me that as many times as she'd told me, I still hadn't listened.

I am at a place of relative peace in my life.  Sure, there is turmoil and there are difficulties, but I know that the gain at the other end is worth it.  But the peace comes from finally being okay in my own skin.  It feels like I had to scrape and crawl and fight just to be, and there is that little voice saying, "wouldn't it have been nice if you could have reached this destination without all that scraping, crawling, and fighting?"

But who would I be otherwise.  If I had started out being okay in my own skin, I would have missed out on much of what formed who I am today.  I don't know who I'd have been instead (to paraphrase "Jars of Clay").  I do know I wouldn't have been a dad to four incredible kids.  And as Elijah sat on the counter watching me cook today and informed me that his favourite colour is blue now, I started to realize that the journey is important, and it's intersection with other journeys have formed...are forming...who I am.  And who other people are too.

And so even though I can feel regret for how I've journeyed, I can't feel it without noticing that right on the other side of the coin is gratitude for what the journey has brought me.  I am grateful for everyone whose journey has intersected mine.  Everyone.  Really.

“And it seems to me that life is a cup

And we’re trying to quench the Sahara.”*

Those are words I wrote a long time ago...over a decade gone by.  I didn't realize at the time just how much I had tried to quench the Sahara with only a cup of water.  I suppose it's a noble if misguided attempt.  Better to save the water in the cup and drink it sparingly as you make your way out of the desert...

...And so I have stepped out in faith.

Funny word, faith.  It seems everyone has their own definition, and I'm only now beginning to form mine.  For a long time I took on other people's definitions of the word.  "To believe without proof" was a favourite of mine, because it made me somehow feel noble and intelligent, even while avoiding tough questions that might make me uncomfortable if the answers didn't match the ones I had hoped for.  Other definitions have more to do with trust, and I think the definition that is slowly forming for me leans into, or borrows from, that definition...though I am not sure how much.  It seems the definition is tied to action, and maybe it can't even be put into words.

Because the word is so religiously tinged, and mostly by a religion that I, well, have no faith in, it has made the word difficult to reclaim.  All around me I see people whose religious faith is meaningful and nurturing, and it's been hard for me to understand how it can be so different for me.  But different it is.

The stepping out part I get, though, and so I've stepped out.  Without knowing what the future will bring (as if my knowledge of the future before was anything but an illusion) I am moving forward.  It hurts a bit, but heals at the same time.  There are moments of intense loneliness and moments of wonderful peace.  Moments of regret, and moments of gratefulness.  I'm scared, but I know everything will be okay.

And so the long dry spell perhaps will come to an end.  Maybe the rains will come and water my faith and it will grow into what it was always meant to be.

"As we fall on our knees there's a wind in the trees

And a rolling that sounds just like thunder"*

*Jamie Townsley, "Life is a Cup"

Speaking of Prayer...

I find this to be an odd piece of my life after ‘losing my religion’.  I find belief is hard to come by, and yet sometimes I do feel the need to cry out to something more when I feel powerless to do anything else.  I decided quite awhile ago that if I feel the need or the desire to pray, then I will pray, and not worry about whether or not God exists to hear it.

Last night was one of those nights.  I had the most difficult day I've ever had, and it felt a bit like I was in a dream and that any minute I'd wake up and everything would be okay.  And if the day wasn't bad enough, I found out that a friend may have cancer.  He is awaiting an appointment for a biopsy now to know for sure.  This was too much for one day (though I'm sure it was worse for him). 

When I went to bed last night, I prayed.  i don't know if God is around to hear me or not, but I prayed n prayed and prayed and prayed.  I may have cried a little too (or a lot).  I'm not sure if there is a god, or if there is if he can still hear my prayers.  But there was nothing else I could do, and so with hope in my heart, I poured it all out.  I hope He heard me, and I hope he makes everything okay.

Last November I took an art class.  It's something I'd wanted to do for a long long time.  Once there I discovered a couple of surprising things:

1. I have some talent in drawing.  I'm certainly not at Dwayne's Level, but I can do better than I thought I could.
2. Even though I have some talent, I didn't actually enjoy it as much as I thought I would.  For me it was all about attention span.  In a two hour art class, I could enjoy myself for about a half hour.  Then I was DONE.  The rest of the time I just wanted to go home.

The picture above is a pencil drawing I did of Jaedyn.  On her first sight of it, Tatiana said, "well, it's a good drawing of a person, but it doesn't look like Jaedyn".  And maybe she's right.  Sometimes it looks like Jaedyn to me...other times it looks like one of Michael Jackson's recent incarnations.  Since the chances of me developping this talent are pretty low on my priority list, I guess that's just how it will have to stay.

I guess just because I can do something, doesn't mean I should.

I should write.  I know.  I'm just having trouble coming up with anything to say.

Maybe next time...

I am not sure it the phrase "in the world, but not of it" is actually written in the bible.  I can't find it on biblegateway.com or a specific verse reference on Google.  Apparently, there is a Sufi saying that is phrased like this, but it doesn't seem the sentence, as I had heard it over the years, is in the bible.  I believe that the idea is there, and others must believe that too since I have heard countless saints say "we are to be in the world but not of the world". 

Since losing faith, some of these sayings take on new meaning for me.  This particular one hit me in an entirely new way recently.  I realized that for as long as I can remember I have been in the world but not of it.

I remember seeing a talk show back in the early 90's about a black man who spent much of his life 'passing' as white.  His skin was a lighter complexion, and he realized that he had more opportunity if people thought he was white.  It was just easier to pass than to endure the prejudice of his time (not that such prejudice has been eliminated yet).  In a way, he was in a world, but not of it.  In the white world, but not of it.

His story stuck with me, maybe because I know what it's like to be in the world but not of it.  I learned early to mould myself into what others wanted.  Sure, I had a little rebellious streak, and squeaked now and then about non-conformity.  But my heart grows heavy when I look back at just how much I did conform and see the price such conformity has exacted not only from me, but from those around me as well.  I fit in. I 'passed' (just barely, some would say).  But I was not of the world I was in--which is only a problem if I keep trying to be of it.

The scary part is, the price must be paid one way or another, whether it be in tears or stomach acid burning an esophagus into cancer.  Sometimes maybe both.  Or sometimes maybe we just learn to relax into who we are and let the chips fall where they may. 

I think it's time to stew Ruby.  Parents everywhere will know exactly what I'm talking about.  As our children stare wide-eyed at Treehouse TV, we are subjected to Ruby's naggy voice going on and on and on.  "Max, leave the frog at the creek".  "Max, your boots don't go on your head",  "Max, don't play with those, they only look like perfectly round chocolate chips".

On and on she goes.  Nag nag nag nag nag.  What parent of more than one child, who already sees too much of this sibling behaviour in real life, needs to listen to one more older sister nag her little brother to death. 

And so I propose that it is time to Stew Ruby.  I've never eaten rabbit before, but in this case I'll happily make an exception.

Here they are, in no particular order, the quotes that have helped me in one way or another through the year 2007.  For one like me, words and their combinations can be as miracles, and some of these qualify.  Some made me laugh, others made me think.  Still others resonnated so deep within me it's as if I knew them all along.  I'll refrain from explaining each one, but rather cut and paste my list and let the words fall where they may.

"You have to go the way your blood beats. If you don't live the only life you have, you won't live some other life, you won't live any life at all." - James Baldwin-

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -Joseph Campbell-

Abstract Thinking Gone Awry: "Two boys were walking home from Sunday school after hearing a strong preaching on the devil. One said to the other, "What do you think about all this Satan stuff?" The other boy replied, "Well, you know how Santa Claus turned out. It's probably just your Dad." Sometimes, reason overcomes the ridiculous. --Anonymous Maybe--

“Heck, millions of Americans are worried about an eternal afterlife and they don't even know how to amuse themselves when the cable goes out.” --MetricSU--

"True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be." --Anonymous Maybe--

“To argue with a man who has renounced his reason is like giving medicine to the dead.” --Thomas Paine--

The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.
--George F. Will--

We are continually faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as insoluble problems.
--John W. Gardner--

What others think of us would be of little moment did it not, when known, so deeply tinge what we think of ourselves.
--Paul Valery--

The test of courage comes when we are in the minority. The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.
--Ralph W. Sockman--

Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.
--Marie Curie--

Every man, wherever he goes, is encompassed by a cloud of comforting convictions, which move with him like flies on a summer day.
--Bertrand Russell--

Happy 2008 Everyone.

New Year's Eve 2007!  Either click on the picture of Elijah or...

2007 New Year's Eve

Watch the pictures in the viewer below (you may have to click to activate)

Every boxing day I get the same surprise.  It's only the same surprise because over the next 364 days I completely forget it's coming, and when it does, I am filled with such joy and pleasure that my heart leaps in my chest.

Every boxing day, when I open my newspaper, I find two--count'em TWO--full pages of comics!  I guess with Christmas being so busy I never miss the days comics.  Or on some level believe that cartoon strip artists shouldn't have to produce one for Christmas day.  And so every year I turn the page and a smile broadens across my face.  I pour my cereal, pour my milk, and settle in for a double dose.

Merry Christmas Everybody.

I hope you all have a holiday that warms your heart.  For those of us with kids, it's gonna be loud in a few minutes (if it's not already...mine aren't allowed up until 7am, and you can bet they have their eye on the clock as we speak).  Enjoy the excited smiles and the shrieks of delight.  Get out the scissors, screwdrivers, drills, chainsaws, and whatever else you need to open the ridiculous packaging (remember when you could just open the top of the box and pull the toy out?  Now if takes most of the day just to get the toy out of the box!).

I'm looking forward to them coming downstairs.  I opened a new coffee pot last night, but crashed before I could set it up to brew my coffee for me this morning.  So I'll have to do that manually.  Maybe I'll go upstairs now and do that so the kids can hear the stirring in the house.  It will be the last bit of tortured waiting before the 7am free-for-all!

Merry Christmas everyone, and a happy and satisfying 2008.

Truly, Jamie.

I remember an interview years ago where Sting said he expected someday to be marginalized on the music scene.  For several years after, his music kept selling and getting airplay.  Then in a move that just screams "self-fulfilling prophecy" he recorded and released an album of 16th century lute music.

Yesterday, as I was listening to the many different versions of the song "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and marveling at how different they sounded, I realized that this would be a GREAT idea for a Sting album.  He could do twelve different versions of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen".  AND it's a Christmas album to boot, so he couldn't even sell it for more than two months out of the year.  It would be hard to be MORE marginalized than that.

I wonder how much he's pay me to be his manager...

December 7, 2007.  10:09 pm.

Taegan has been down in the basement for 10 minutes pleading her case for the completely closed door to the room vs. Jaedyn's (and Mommy's) case for the door being open.  I tried to explain to her that if Mommy said the door had to be open then that means it had to be open.  "No it doesn't," she said, "YOU'RE the boss!".

After all the appropriate denials of that loaded statement, I wanted to explain how it's kind of like in Bewitched where one witch can't undo the spell of another witch, but I realized that wouldn't make much sense to a kid who has never seen that show.

I tried to explain the concept of compromise to the child.  She didn't know what the word meant, but since she delighted in using 'grownup' words earlier (as she gigglingly called one person after another 'pitiful' in a snooty voice), I thought now may be a teachable moment.  "It's like when a kid wants four cookies but their mom only wants them to have two cookies," I said, "sometimes they'll meet in the middle and let the kid have three cookies--one less than the child wanted and one more than the mother wanted."  I then tried to explain that maybe she could have the door not completely closed but not completely open either.

She'd have none of it.  She told me that if she didn't sleep in the total darkness tonight then she'd never learn how and at this rate she'd be afraid of the dark when she is a teenager.  I suggested leaving the door open and turning off the bathroom light as another compromise.  Still no good, but she couldn't quite say why.

I did what any good dad would do at that moment and that is raise my hands in despair and stop talking about it.  She ranted about it for a few more minutes (where does she get that ranting thing from?) and then sat quietly for a minute.  I looked blankly at a facebook scrabble board.  "Well," she said, "I'll turn the bathroom light off, but if Mommy comes and turns it back on then it's all YOUR fault that I'll always be scared of the dark."  With that, she twirled around and pranced back up the stairs.  I haven't heard from her since, which must be a good thing, right?

I was driving in the van the other day, listening to Cyndi Lauper when Tatiana said "Dad, can we listen to something else?  I don't really like this.".  My heart froze.  What was she trying to tell me? 

"Here, I'll change the song", I said, misunderstanding.

"Well...it's more her voice that I don't like, dad...and her songs...I don't really like her songs either".

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  This child I brought up telling me this now.  My hopes and dreams that she'd like unpopular music vanished in an instant.

"Well...what do you like?" I asked.

"Hillary Duff...and some others" she said.

Hillary Duff?!  How could she like Hillary Duff instead?  And why couldn't she just like Cyndi Lauper?  Why couldn't she just like the same music I do? 

Wait a minute.  Of course she could.  Musical taste is a matter of choice is it not?  It's not simply inborn.  There is not gene for musical taste.  If she really wanted to, she could like Cyndi.

I pulled the van over to the side of the road.  "Get out" I said.  If you don't like Cyndi Lauper, you are not welcome in this van.

"I can't make myself like her, dad" she said.

"Well, then...I guess you've made your decision."

As she got out of the car, I took the CD out of the player and tossed it to her.  "If you change your mind, let me know and you can come home" I said, before I drove off.

And I haven't seen her since.