One day a house I will have.
A space for making things,and a space for not making things.I love that day. But today is made of owls and red nail polish,so today is not that day. I love today,I look forward to tomorrow.Thursday, September 9, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Take Stock.
Two blogs have made me stop today. In leu of my sister jumping on a plane and MOVING to another country, I have been thinking. A bit of a self check really. The fist thought I had when she had gone was I need to pick up a copy of John Piper's book: Don't Waste Your Life. What am I doing? What are my motivations? Why am I loving school so much? You know just the basics. Well this morning in my blogroll I was taken even at a more basic level.
How am I specifically setting my life up? This digging hurts a bit. But a breath of fresh air it has been. David Billingslea sets a perfect stage for a deep and altering thoughtful moment:
http://thebillingsleablog.blogspot.com/2010/09/goodbye-comfort-hello-joy.html#
After that beautiful bombshell went off in my mind, I read Dia Hankey's blog, he is on part five of a series I would highly recommend called Guidance. Today's post is all about Godly Councel. He deeply goes into what the people surrounding your life should be. I faced the questions: Who is speaking into my life? Who have I given permission to tell me the truth?
http://thebillingsleablog.blogspot.com/2010/09/goodbye-comfort-hello-joy.html#
I know most of you who read my blog may not be blog junkies like I am, but if you have time in the next week to read them I would more than highly recommend it. These two men have turned my world upside down, and I never want to go at it alone, so feel free to join me!
Take Stock.
Two blogs have made me stop today. In leu of my sister jumping on a plane and MOVING to another country, I have been thinking. A bit of a self check really. The fist thought I had when she had gone was I need to pick up a copy of John Piper's book: Don't Waste Your Life. What am I doing? What are my motivations? Why am I loving school so much? You know just the basics. Well this morning in my blogroll I was taken even at a more basic level.
How am I specifically setting my life up? This digging hurts a bit. But a breath of fresh air it has been. David Billingslea sets a perfect stage for a deep and altering thoughtful moment:
http://thebillingsleablog.blogspot.com/2010/09/goodbye-comfort-hello-joy.html#
After that beautiful bombshell went off in my mind, I read Dia Hankey's blog, he is on part five of a series I would highly recommend called Guidance. Today's post is all about Godly Councel. He deeply goes into what the people surrounding your life should be. I faced the questions: Who is speaking into my life? Who have I given permission to tell me the truth?
http://thebillingsleablog.blogspot.com/2010/09/goodbye-comfort-hello-joy.html#
I know most of you who read my blog may not be blog junkies like I am, but if you have time in the next week to read them I would more than highly recommend it. These two men have turned my world upside down, and I never want to go at it alone, so feel free to join me!
Monday, September 6, 2010
Dizzying Effectual Praise
Push It
"Push it. Examine all things intensely and relentlessly. Probe and search each object in a piece of art; do not leave it, do not course over it, as if it were understood, but instead follow it down until you see it in the mystery of its own specificity and strength."
ANNIE DILLARD
ANNIE DILLARD
This is what I do. In my head I am constantly "pushing the envelope" of my understanding. There is never a dull moment in my cognitave reasoning. The wheels are constantly turning. If you think that no one cares about that thing you said two days ago, then you are wrong. I have analyzed it, compared it to the string of other things you have said and placed it against the backdrop of the random memories I have cataloged about you. I have turned it into something beautiful inside of me, I have found depth and beauty in the simple phrase you spoke aloud and thought nothing of.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Winds of Change
When the fierce winds of change have come swiftly, leaving behind a trail of unknown realities, I like to surround myself with the familiar. The known causes me to find freedom to change. One of my favorite things to do, when I feel lost in the evolving seasons of my life, is to hike. It allows me time to think as I go, this time saved for deep pondering, gives me strength to welcome the unknown. I gain perspective as I move toward a goal and the rhythm of the monotonous invigorates my brain; physical activity unlocks my soul, reminding me what it means to be human.
The Pikes Peak Incline, in Manitou, Colorado is my favorite climb because I find comfort in its severity. The trail is made up of a one mile ascent, where you gain 2,200 ft in altitude, at a 45 to 50 degree angle, adding in the switchbacks of Barr Trail, the simplest way to get back down, you will have covered over 4.5 miles as you arrive back to your car. This old railway track is only sufficiently maintained; its aged rail ties held into the side of the mountain with rebar and enormous water pipes you must maneuver around.
This hike takes me just under an hour to summit, giving plenty of time to reflect, ponder and wonder at creation. I have a hiking play list on my ipod that is specifically packed with thought provoking lyrics and slow moving melodies so I can step in sync with the beat. Arriving at the trailhead after a quick warm-up you cannot help but to set your gaze to the top; if you try and take it all in at once though, the sheer enormity of it you will cause you to quickly give up. It is amazing what happens when the steady pace kicks in as I begin thudding; step, step, breathe, step, step, breathe, an overwhelming need for air causes the focus to move my feet. I feel the blood pumping in my thighs as I use them to force my feet to movement; ten minutes in and, the blood no longer pounds in my ears causing my motion to become gentler. I feel my lungs deflate a bit, my breathing regulates and I inhale deeply the vanilla scented pine trees that surround me.
For some reason this specific trip feels reminiscent of a journey into the land of Victor Flemming’s adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, the color shifting from black and white to a dazzling color. The farther up the trail takes me the more I begin to see: the flowers on the side of the trail, the sharpie stained rocks with young lovers marking their affections, proof of a deep and intimate moment . Perceiving that I am not alone on this journey I begin to consider the movement of other people in sight, I am gaining on a couple of ladies, This excitement is short lived as an older gentleman who is thoroughly weathered and approximately in his late 70’s, with his grandson in tow, adeptly passes me, “on your left!” his words ring out. I try for a moment to keep up, but my untrained calves begin cramping causing a slow in my steps, my rapid heartbeat once again reverberates in my ears.
Slowing down I turn around to asses the ground I have covered, the climb has revealed a view of the mountain city, I can now see pieces of the rugged red formation of the Garden of the Gods in the left of my vision. The thick trees that surround me fade out as the sign of city life interferes with this natural growth pattern. The human developed structures break way and the cityscape continues to the horizon. The metallic glint of roofing materials sparkles and shines in the “great plains” as Katharine Lee Bates described in her lyrics for the song, “America the Beautiful”.
I turn back and steadily make my way up, passing weary travelers, and the rhythmic pace works to my advantage. In the middle of the trail, at the false summit the monotonous stair stepping tempo becomes a slow and tedious climb as you try to bring your knee to your face, stretching yourself to reach the next rail tie. This middle point is no laughing matter as many hikers opt out of the trail here and take the switchbacks of Barr trail back down the mountainside. If you can convince your body to maintain balance and push your muscles into obedience, the trail once again levels out, to the same rhythmic stair stepping routine as you were faced with in the beginning. Finally without much ado you grace the summit, although you feel there should be an amazing overture or round of applause, the people who have already made it to the top, just simply nod there heads at you in approval
I stop at the top long enough to catch my breath and then turn left to follow the switchbacks down the mountain, As I make my way down, the momentum of my journey picks up. My feet have come to know this trail as I have traveled it many times, the path being a sweet moment of familiarity, I usually jog down it, swiftly passing many fellow hikers. I am once again surprised when someone clips past me at a breathtaking pace. I watch this young man, like a mountain goat adeptly navigating a precarious cliff face; maneuver the steep path with a graceful knowledge of what steps to take next. Just as quickly as he has passed, he is out of my sight, continuing on his journey.
My mind takes a new turn, as I relate what I just saw to my own need for a familiar place. The concept I am faced with challenges me as I begin to ponder the truths of change and stability. I have often heard people relate obstacles in their lives to mountains they must journey. Once, a friend shared with me one such journey. She arrived at the bottom of her Mountain of Patience and had not learned her lesson well, so God took her hand, and they trotted right back around to the same trailhead. Here she was climbing this mountain afresh, struggling through it, trying to truly understand the reason she is on this expedition, instead of pushing through to the end and finishing, but never understanding.
I flashed back to the runner that had passed me, and once more arose the sense of pride I had when I passed others, because I knew the trail so well. “What if the lesson is not to do well on this climb?” I think to myself. What if being so caught up in doing well I had missed the actual joy of this trail? My thoughts flash back to the view of the halfway point and how the beauty of that moment invigorated me. I saw the city as a bird would; I am reminded of the strawberries peaking through the green luscious landscape on the side of the hill I had passed not but twenty minutes ago. “What if my goal changes from getting to the end quickly, but to enjoy this climb that I am on?” What if instead of running from the change I am faced with, I embrace it? Let the change do what it is meant to do, change! Let my view be altered, let my life be moved and enjoy it while it happens.
By this point the gears that compose my thoughts were in full motion, I had completely lost momentum in my physical journey. I sensed once again the warm vanilla scent of the forest I was in; looking to my left I saw an aged pine tree. Walking up with a determined motion, I buried my nose into a crack in the bark, and breathed deeply. The smell tantalizes my senses and my heart beats happily as I revel in this moment of transformation. I once again headed down the mountain, with a new focused center. I will not only hike the trail, but I will completely live it. I will use every sense I have to take in as much as I can. Ever since that day I have seen the world with a different lens. I took a few steps back and am amazed at the bigger picture I am faced with.
The Pikes Peak Incline, in Manitou, Colorado is my favorite climb because I find comfort in its severity. The trail is made up of a one mile ascent, where you gain 2,200 ft in altitude, at a 45 to 50 degree angle, adding in the switchbacks of Barr Trail, the simplest way to get back down, you will have covered over 4.5 miles as you arrive back to your car. This old railway track is only sufficiently maintained; its aged rail ties held into the side of the mountain with rebar and enormous water pipes you must maneuver around.
This hike takes me just under an hour to summit, giving plenty of time to reflect, ponder and wonder at creation. I have a hiking play list on my ipod that is specifically packed with thought provoking lyrics and slow moving melodies so I can step in sync with the beat. Arriving at the trailhead after a quick warm-up you cannot help but to set your gaze to the top; if you try and take it all in at once though, the sheer enormity of it you will cause you to quickly give up. It is amazing what happens when the steady pace kicks in as I begin thudding; step, step, breathe, step, step, breathe, an overwhelming need for air causes the focus to move my feet. I feel the blood pumping in my thighs as I use them to force my feet to movement; ten minutes in and, the blood no longer pounds in my ears causing my motion to become gentler. I feel my lungs deflate a bit, my breathing regulates and I inhale deeply the vanilla scented pine trees that surround me.
For some reason this specific trip feels reminiscent of a journey into the land of Victor Flemming’s adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, the color shifting from black and white to a dazzling color. The farther up the trail takes me the more I begin to see: the flowers on the side of the trail, the sharpie stained rocks with young lovers marking their affections, proof of a deep and intimate moment . Perceiving that I am not alone on this journey I begin to consider the movement of other people in sight, I am gaining on a couple of ladies, This excitement is short lived as an older gentleman who is thoroughly weathered and approximately in his late 70’s, with his grandson in tow, adeptly passes me, “on your left!” his words ring out. I try for a moment to keep up, but my untrained calves begin cramping causing a slow in my steps, my rapid heartbeat once again reverberates in my ears.
Slowing down I turn around to asses the ground I have covered, the climb has revealed a view of the mountain city, I can now see pieces of the rugged red formation of the Garden of the Gods in the left of my vision. The thick trees that surround me fade out as the sign of city life interferes with this natural growth pattern. The human developed structures break way and the cityscape continues to the horizon. The metallic glint of roofing materials sparkles and shines in the “great plains” as Katharine Lee Bates described in her lyrics for the song, “America the Beautiful”.
I turn back and steadily make my way up, passing weary travelers, and the rhythmic pace works to my advantage. In the middle of the trail, at the false summit the monotonous stair stepping tempo becomes a slow and tedious climb as you try to bring your knee to your face, stretching yourself to reach the next rail tie. This middle point is no laughing matter as many hikers opt out of the trail here and take the switchbacks of Barr trail back down the mountainside. If you can convince your body to maintain balance and push your muscles into obedience, the trail once again levels out, to the same rhythmic stair stepping routine as you were faced with in the beginning. Finally without much ado you grace the summit, although you feel there should be an amazing overture or round of applause, the people who have already made it to the top, just simply nod there heads at you in approval
I stop at the top long enough to catch my breath and then turn left to follow the switchbacks down the mountain, As I make my way down, the momentum of my journey picks up. My feet have come to know this trail as I have traveled it many times, the path being a sweet moment of familiarity, I usually jog down it, swiftly passing many fellow hikers. I am once again surprised when someone clips past me at a breathtaking pace. I watch this young man, like a mountain goat adeptly navigating a precarious cliff face; maneuver the steep path with a graceful knowledge of what steps to take next. Just as quickly as he has passed, he is out of my sight, continuing on his journey.
My mind takes a new turn, as I relate what I just saw to my own need for a familiar place. The concept I am faced with challenges me as I begin to ponder the truths of change and stability. I have often heard people relate obstacles in their lives to mountains they must journey. Once, a friend shared with me one such journey. She arrived at the bottom of her Mountain of Patience and had not learned her lesson well, so God took her hand, and they trotted right back around to the same trailhead. Here she was climbing this mountain afresh, struggling through it, trying to truly understand the reason she is on this expedition, instead of pushing through to the end and finishing, but never understanding.
I flashed back to the runner that had passed me, and once more arose the sense of pride I had when I passed others, because I knew the trail so well. “What if the lesson is not to do well on this climb?” I think to myself. What if being so caught up in doing well I had missed the actual joy of this trail? My thoughts flash back to the view of the halfway point and how the beauty of that moment invigorated me. I saw the city as a bird would; I am reminded of the strawberries peaking through the green luscious landscape on the side of the hill I had passed not but twenty minutes ago. “What if my goal changes from getting to the end quickly, but to enjoy this climb that I am on?” What if instead of running from the change I am faced with, I embrace it? Let the change do what it is meant to do, change! Let my view be altered, let my life be moved and enjoy it while it happens.
By this point the gears that compose my thoughts were in full motion, I had completely lost momentum in my physical journey. I sensed once again the warm vanilla scent of the forest I was in; looking to my left I saw an aged pine tree. Walking up with a determined motion, I buried my nose into a crack in the bark, and breathed deeply. The smell tantalizes my senses and my heart beats happily as I revel in this moment of transformation. I once again headed down the mountain, with a new focused center. I will not only hike the trail, but I will completely live it. I will use every sense I have to take in as much as I can. Ever since that day I have seen the world with a different lens. I took a few steps back and am amazed at the bigger picture I am faced with.
Friday, July 30, 2010
melodic intuition.
music is the breath of my soul.
through it i see the world through someone elses' eyes, and it fits. there is many a time when i am feeling (insert anything feely like), that i will put on a favorite track and like the perfect wine pairing, it compliments the moment. i love the variety and the ever increasing amount of beautiful souls who wail a lovely tune on my play list. when i have no words, they already have written it, put a melody to it, recorded it and it is now in my ears, helping me define this.
today i was playing (if you can even define it as such, how about i say attempting to play) my guitar. i discovered this: it is so much harder to play, because i sing harmony. i sound so terrible with no melody line to even me out. i sing the sharps and the flats, the highs and the lows, but there is no simple, steady, even resolution to my chord. melody is, as dictionary.com defines it: "the linear aspect to music". melody must also be understood in conjunction with rhythm. there is no direction to the song if those two aspects are not addressed.
melody
rhythm
up until around the 16th century these were the only things one would think about when writing music. then one bright sun shining day in italy the explosive power of chordal integration emerged like a overwhelming sunrise that changed the way we think about music. the day of polyphonic superposition trending in horizontal melodic lines was over. bach even caught the vision and began adding harmonic structure to his polyphonic, (melody entrenched tones) concertos.
harmony.
harmony is so detailed and there are many rules that govern this art form. the simple technical explanation is not good enough. did you know that depending on the notes you sing you can infer a note? you can make people hear something that is not there! most of our western music is completely reliant on the underlying harmony.
so, if the majority of music is built on a foundation of harmony, and the majority of people in america listen to it, you might come to the conclusion that harmony is widely understood. that would be a mistake. i have spent many years of my life in choirs and chorals and something that comes naturally to me (harmonizing) is complete agony to others. i have seen girls put to tears, because they cannot understand the nuance of this powerful integration of sound.
the reality is this is not something you can just pick up, unless you hear it. this is not something you can sing, unless you understand it. it is not something that sounds phenomenal on its own, however, without the melody. the melody is so sweet, but is intensified when the two work together. there is nothing better to hear than the ear candy a duet brings to my senses.
i am realising that for a very long time i have tried to sing the melody in the rhythm of my life. instead of making sweet music, i sound like a mountain goat bleating up a hill. affronted with this unpleasantness, i tried so hard to make it sound smooth. fit into the mold of the "normal", the linear, the melody.
I DO NOT SING MELODY!
ha! in every area of my life i do not fit into the melody. i am different. a minor chord. just because i am different, doesn't mean it is bad. it only means i need to not drown out the melody. the chord of stephanie needs to be resolved. if i am overshadowing the melody, or if i am off playing my own song then it will sound TERRIBLE, but if i let the Melody take over and compliment it terrifically then music will be made.
sweet music, truly becoming the breath of my soul, for i have found my Melody.
simple. i know. how much better would our day go if we were not all trying to sing the solo? how much simpler would it be if we embraced our parts and sang them well? all i can see in my head right now is overstressed baritones going for the kill of the high note. red faced and stretching beyond our reach, why can't we just let the sopranos do it, because they can rock it!? i cannot! i have been over reaching, trying to increase my range instead of becoming the best harmonious alto i can be. the solo is not mine. the melody is so beautiful, but the Authour of this song deems me worthy to compliment, and compliment i shall. for the less make this song about me and let it be what it was intended, the more beauty will come forth and worship will arise.
...i'm gonna go practice now.
through it i see the world through someone elses' eyes, and it fits. there is many a time when i am feeling (insert anything feely like), that i will put on a favorite track and like the perfect wine pairing, it compliments the moment. i love the variety and the ever increasing amount of beautiful souls who wail a lovely tune on my play list. when i have no words, they already have written it, put a melody to it, recorded it and it is now in my ears, helping me define this.
today i was playing (if you can even define it as such, how about i say attempting to play) my guitar. i discovered this: it is so much harder to play, because i sing harmony. i sound so terrible with no melody line to even me out. i sing the sharps and the flats, the highs and the lows, but there is no simple, steady, even resolution to my chord. melody is, as dictionary.com defines it: "the linear aspect to music". melody must also be understood in conjunction with rhythm. there is no direction to the song if those two aspects are not addressed.
melody
rhythm
up until around the 16th century these were the only things one would think about when writing music. then one bright sun shining day in italy the explosive power of chordal integration emerged like a overwhelming sunrise that changed the way we think about music. the day of polyphonic superposition trending in horizontal melodic lines was over. bach even caught the vision and began adding harmonic structure to his polyphonic, (melody entrenched tones) concertos.
harmony.
harmony is so detailed and there are many rules that govern this art form. the simple technical explanation is not good enough. did you know that depending on the notes you sing you can infer a note? you can make people hear something that is not there! most of our western music is completely reliant on the underlying harmony.
so, if the majority of music is built on a foundation of harmony, and the majority of people in america listen to it, you might come to the conclusion that harmony is widely understood. that would be a mistake. i have spent many years of my life in choirs and chorals and something that comes naturally to me (harmonizing) is complete agony to others. i have seen girls put to tears, because they cannot understand the nuance of this powerful integration of sound.
the reality is this is not something you can just pick up, unless you hear it. this is not something you can sing, unless you understand it. it is not something that sounds phenomenal on its own, however, without the melody. the melody is so sweet, but is intensified when the two work together. there is nothing better to hear than the ear candy a duet brings to my senses.
i am realising that for a very long time i have tried to sing the melody in the rhythm of my life. instead of making sweet music, i sound like a mountain goat bleating up a hill. affronted with this unpleasantness, i tried so hard to make it sound smooth. fit into the mold of the "normal", the linear, the melody.
I DO NOT SING MELODY!
ha! in every area of my life i do not fit into the melody. i am different. a minor chord. just because i am different, doesn't mean it is bad. it only means i need to not drown out the melody. the chord of stephanie needs to be resolved. if i am overshadowing the melody, or if i am off playing my own song then it will sound TERRIBLE, but if i let the Melody take over and compliment it terrifically then music will be made.
sweet music, truly becoming the breath of my soul, for i have found my Melody.
simple. i know. how much better would our day go if we were not all trying to sing the solo? how much simpler would it be if we embraced our parts and sang them well? all i can see in my head right now is overstressed baritones going for the kill of the high note. red faced and stretching beyond our reach, why can't we just let the sopranos do it, because they can rock it!? i cannot! i have been over reaching, trying to increase my range instead of becoming the best harmonious alto i can be. the solo is not mine. the melody is so beautiful, but the Authour of this song deems me worthy to compliment, and compliment i shall. for the less make this song about me and let it be what it was intended, the more beauty will come forth and worship will arise.
...i'm gonna go practice now.
Friday, July 9, 2010
inhale
inspiration comes like a tornado storm, a force to be reckoned with and mostly unexpected. it comes suddenly for the majority and i too have been surprised; for i did not wake up this morning expecting the world to inspire me.
but it did.
the way the coffee tasted, the way our company spoke, the color the hair became, the way the movie ended, the turn our walk took, the simple words on a page begging for a second glance.
a breath of fresh air, inspiration overcame. anticipation beats wildly in my chest for hope and will not be tamed, rhythmically syncopated for the desire of what is to be. today is a surprise package, full of hope and vigor, strength and whimsy.
hope and dreaming become a known reality. breathing steady i see fruits of freedom taking over. hit with solidarity i awake from the murky and dim, to find the world renewed and unity arise. monumental movement becoming common practice. let hope be known and freedom be ours. let life be breathed into these dry bones.
but it did.
the way the coffee tasted, the way our company spoke, the color the hair became, the way the movie ended, the turn our walk took, the simple words on a page begging for a second glance.
a breath of fresh air, inspiration overcame. anticipation beats wildly in my chest for hope and will not be tamed, rhythmically syncopated for the desire of what is to be. today is a surprise package, full of hope and vigor, strength and whimsy.
hope and dreaming become a known reality. breathing steady i see fruits of freedom taking over. hit with solidarity i awake from the murky and dim, to find the world renewed and unity arise. monumental movement becoming common practice. let hope be known and freedom be ours. let life be breathed into these dry bones.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
