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“School’s out for summer!”

Yeah, except that it’s started already for Walnut Hills and everyone else’s going back any day now. And I’m freaking out about curriculum and planning for being gone with the baby. What happened to the summer?

It’s late and I’m here at Redeemer typing away to the low hum and vibration of the industrial air conditioning. It may just be my imagination, but I think I can see the fluorescent lights flickering. I am surrounded by bits of paper—Time and Talent printouts, Youth Council agendas with movie lists on the back, magazines I meant to read a month ago which are still open to the fascinating article I bookmarked, Banquet bulletins to correct. I’ve had four back-to-back meetings today and still didn’t get everything done that I should have.

Seems like summer vacation wasn’t very vacation-y. You ever have that feeling? I was sick over my Spring Break, too, if you can believe it. But if I think about it clearly, there were moments—even whole series of moments—when I felt at peace this summer. Days when I didn’t have anything or anyone pressing on my time and I could sit around or work on a project and feel content. Like I could breathe or like a light breeze blew in to cool my skin.

It’s easy to forget those moments—and I know you had them, too—it’s easy to forget that we had some time off, some peace, some chillaxin’, some vacation. It’s easy to forget that in the sudden running around of school starting.


memory unlimited

Had a drink and deep conversation with the nooma people yesterday. Nooma's a spirituality series for young adults--and before you run screaming into the other room, it's pretty good. This one was about how we're all wounded somehow and how we deal with those wounds. Like, do we try to exact revenge and does that work? Or do we just lay down and take it? Or do we forgive? And what does "forgive" mean, anyway? It was interesting to hear the guy say that sometimes forgive doesn't mean forget, it means remember. An abusive relationship can be forgiven but only if you get out and remember the situation. An alcoholic can be forgiven if she and you remember the effects of excess. Forgetting isn't always the way.

Loving Husband and I saw The Darjeeling Limited last night which is as awkward and broken as you'd expect a Wes "Life Aquatic" Anderson film to be. The brothers are on a spiritual journey, forced though it may be, and their clinging to their dead father's ridiculous orange Vuitton luggage is so evocative. Mom tells them that the past is over and done with, that they need to forget it. Francis says, "We can't." And, in their isolated lives, they shouldn't. There's an undercurrent of camaraderie among them--you believe they are estranged brothers--and in order to have any real relationship, they can't forget their pasts.

The prophet Isaiah says "I, I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins." There is joy in forgetfulness and in letting go. And sometimes there is an aching need to remember.

On the road again

Leaving for CREDO tomorrow morning. Don't know my flight information. I know I had it here somewhere...