You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2008.
Excerpt from “East Coker” in T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets
V
So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years-
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l’entre deux guerres-
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate – but there is no competition -
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
John and I watched this film this past weekend and really enjoyed it. It’s about an Orthodox Jewish woman and a Muslim woman who make friends teaching at the same school in New York partially because they are both going through the process of having their families arrange their marriages. It was a pretty fascinating glimpse into these religions and how they work in the modern world.
It’s hilarious in places (when Rochel has to go out on “dates” with all these potential husbands, none of whom are anywhere near good husband material) and angering in places (like when the principal harangues the girls for their modesty and morals).
While I obviously didn’t go through the arranged marriage process, I like that this film portayed it fairly. It didn’t say arranged marriages are evil or outdated and it also didn’t say that the process is easy or perfect. Instead it lets you think about what it would like to go through this experience yourself.
I feel like I really related to the characters of the two girls in the sense that the outside world doesn’t understand them. Doesn’t understand the modest clothes, the modest behaviour, doesn’t understand how they can be fulfilled or happy without partying, alcohol, illicit sex and drugs. Doesn’t understand that they want to obey these “rules” that others see as burdensome, unnecessary or even wrong. Doesn’t understand why they would listen to and obey their parents. It says it is ok to be unlike the rest of the world.
It was strange but fun to wrap my mind around the fact, that I, as a young Christian woman related to two religions that are totally different than mine. And that, after all, is the main theme of this movie “Friendship has no religion.” Underneath the headscarves, the various traditions and different ways of living daily life, people are still just people and you can always find something in others to relate to, even if at first glance it seems impossible.
Mariana by Sir John Everett Millais. Inspired by the Tennyson poem of the same name.
Cape Cod Morning by Edward Hopper
I love listening to NPR and a little while back they did a really interesting series on different health care systems in Europe. This series has been especially relevant in the last few months as I’ve learned more about how the American health care and insurance system works (not fun!). Although to be fair, I am very grateful to have pretty comprehensive health coverage through my employer because so many people don’t.
I really liked how the program portrayed both the positives and the negatives because obviously no system is perfect. The journalists also help you understand how the culture and society changes the way you view health care. In the Netherlands you are expected to have your baby at home because it’s a natural process rather than a disease, and in England, new drugs aren’t available to patients unless they’re proven to be of sufficient benefit over cost. That’s just a little snippet of the wealth of information they provided about Germany, Holland, England, France and Switzerland.
Here’s the link if you’re interested:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=91972152
“They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted – twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame.“
This is from Jude (v. 12b-13a).
On Friday night, I hadn’t had the best week at work, I was tired, I knew the kitchen was a disaster and I arrived home to find these gorgeous roses on the dining room table, with a spotless kitchen. My husband rocks!
I am steadily running out of clothes to wear again. Between our dryer (which stains our clothes with rust marks) and the plain fact that many of my clothes are 2-3 years old, I’m finally having to chuck the clothes that hang in my closet attempting to make it look full and complete. I’ve left them hanging there for long past their expiry dates because it’s scary to see how little is really there when I remove them.
I know, I know. What kind of girl am I? Why should the idea of going clothes shopping elicit groans rather than squeals of excitement? Well, there are a few reasons . . . and probably the main one is just that I’m picky, but here’s my reasoning:
First, I’m not very good at visualizing what will look good on me, nor am I always good at getting the right size. By the time I’ve tried it on and realized it’s the wrong size, I don’t have the drive to really go back and find a different size. I think “Did I really like it that much anyway?” and easily convince myself it’s not worth it.
Second, I have a hard time spending money.
Third, I don’t really like a lot of styles and materials. It’s seems like so much of the clothing out there today is cheap and plasticky. It looks like it will fall apart, pill, bag out. Or I know I’ll hate how it feels. But I have a hard time going only for high end clothing because of reason number two.
Fourth, I don’t want to look like everyone else. Shopping at Old Navy means I’ll see my clothes everywhere. I don’t mind with t-shirts and sweaters, basic items that look the same no matter what store you buy them in, but when it comes to cute dresses or more “unique” tops, I get bummed thinking about how many other girls are going to be wearing this “unique” shirt.
Fifth, a lot of the current styles don’t fit me properly which makes shopping depressing. Whether it’s the empire waist shirts which make me look pregnant or the pants that somehow don’t get that you can have a small waist and larger hips, it’s frustrating that flattering clothes seem so hard to find.
Today I thought I could do it. I had sufficient mental prep, John had approved spending $200, I thought I could go and refurbish my wardrobe in one attempt. I started off on a good note. At Old Navy I managed to spend $60 and buy four t-shirts and a sweater. But that’s where it ended. I went to Nordstrom’s Rack, Kohl’s, Target, Express and The Limited and at each store succumbed to one of my bad habits: shopping cart abandonment. I came home grumpy (and hungry), mad that I wasted four hours shopping.
These kind of days remind me why I think I should learn to sew . . . and stick to my strengths – buying books and furniture!!
Because this is so funny.
Tash in 1950
Tash in 1952
Tash in 1960
Tash in 1964
Tash in 1966
Tash in 1970
Tash in 1976
Tash in 1980
Tash in 1984
Tash in 1990
Tash in 1996
“I need just a little more silence/I need just a little more time” – Sarah McLachlan.
This has been a theme in the last few years of my life. I can’t get away from it; it crops up all over the place in my journals. I can hear it my head. Another theme ties in directly: Balance. How do I balance all the pieces in my life?
How do I balance work and play? How do I get enough sleep into my day? Where do my creative pursuits fit in with the time I need to just relax? What about being social versus needing alone time? And when will I ever fit in going to the gym let alone actually doing the dishes for once?
The hardest thing to realize is that doing what I want requires so much discipline. If I really want my life balanced properly, I have to be strict with my time. I hate having my time wasted and yet easily waste time myself. Then frustration builds, I feel lazy and defeated and I sigh over the fact that another day/week/month/year has passed since I’ve touched my novel or put any effort into writing.
Instead in the time allotted to writing, I’ve managed to read five different interesting articles online, played a few games of spider solitaire or Carcassonne, looked at real estate on Redfin and about 100 photos on Facebook. Writing suddenly becomes another chore which I leave undone, when it should be something I can’t wait to spend time doing. But my brain gets scared, starts making excuses, and so I become an expert on the current housing market and continue to collect interesting stories to share in conversations.
I read an interesting article by Eric Wilson this morning, adapted from his book called Against Happiness: In Praise of Melancholy.
I’ve included a portion here that really caught my attention. Although he doesn’t discuss it here, it made me think of the lack of authenticity in believers who think that negative emotions don’t belong in their lives and so become superficial, exhibiting facades of happy perfection to their churches and friends, thereby losing their ability to engage in true community.
I for one am afraid that American culture’s overemphasis on happiness at the expense of sadness might be dangerous, a wanton forgetting of an essential part of a full life. I further am concerned that to desire only happiness in a world undoubtedly tragic is to become inauthentic, to settle for unrealistic abstractions that ignore concrete situations. I am finally fearful of our society’s efforts to expunge melancholia. Without the agitations of the soul, would all of our magnificently yearning towers topple? Would our heart-torn symphonies cease?
My fears grow out of my suspicion that the predominant form of American happiness breeds blandness. This kind of happiness appears to disregard the value of sadness. This brand of supposed joy, moreover, seems to foster an ignorance of life’s enduring and vital polarity between agony and ecstasy, dejection and ebullience. Trying to forget sadness and its integral place in the great rhythm of the cosmos, this sort of happiness insinuates that the blues are an aberrant state that should be cursed as weakness of will or removed with the help of a little pink pill.
Here’s another section. I think he’s right in his distinction between melancholia and depression, and that our culture too easily confuses one with the other.
I do, however, wonder why so many people experiencing melancholia are now taking pills simply to ease the pain. Of course there is a fine line between what I’m calling melancholia and what society calls depression. In my mind, what separates the two is degree of activity. Both forms are more or less chronic sadness that leads to continuing unease with how things are — persistent feelings that the world is not quite right, that it is a place of suffering, stupidity, and evil. Depression (as I see it, at least) causes apathy in the face of this unease, lethargy approaching total paralysis, an inability to feel much of anything one way or another. In contrast, melancholia generates a deep feeling in regard to this same anxiety, a turbulence of heart that results in an active questioning of the status quo, a perpetual longing to create new ways of being and seeing.
Our culture seems to confuse these two and thus treats melancholia as an aberrant state, a vile threat to our pervasive notions of happiness — happiness as immediate gratification, happiness as superficial comfort, happiness as static contentment.
This last quote speaks to the artist in me. I remember questioning in high school, why so many of the great artists had lives full of hardships and tragedies which they endured, transcending their realities to give us great works of art.
Melancholia, far from a mere disease or weakness of will, is an almost miraculous invitation to transcend the banal status quo and imagine the untapped possibilities for existence.
That’s just a small part of the article, you can read the full article here: http://chronicle.com/temp/reprint.php?id=tk1twsk466pmt0m7fj6py116kyc71fhv
Recent Comments