Ineffable

You may laugh at me writing words to deliberate on the ineffable, or that which words cannot touch, but I hope it reflects the futility of the human goal to name everything.

Dear friends, may I confess that I was extremely jealous of the collective insights I've heard thus far about Torrey Banquet? And what a horrible thing, too; to covet my neighbor's past, present and presumable experiences! I regretted moving to Washington more than I have in a very long time, and that was probably the greater sin.

I only mention this so that I can, with clear conscience, express how overjoyed I really am for the growth and joy of each of you! It is an unspeakable blessing (no pun intended) to reach for the ineffable as a community, and that's why I am writing this post.

Lately I've been wondering what the purpose of friendship is exactly. Modern America hasn't exactly provided the best environment for fostering sincere interaction with other people. Betrayal, gossip, verbal and physical abuse, downright rudeness and whatever the heck anyone else can pull out of a hat are all fair game for so-called 'friends' nowadays. (It's the same with marriages, families, workplaces...). As a country, it seems that we've lost our respect for other individuals, drowned in the American dream for personal happiness.

However! You lovely Torrey people get to be the joyful anomalies in this sea of frightened discontent. AND IN SCHOOL NO LESS. (Shouldn't everyone be required to learn decent argumentative courtesy before general science and math?) The obsession of our culture with seeing through everything has made our fellow humans invisible to the scientific eye. American culture has taught to see other not as 'whom' but as 'what'.

I wondered what this transparency effect had to do with our understanding and love of God. As John writes,

"No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us" (1 John 4:12).

...

...

Okay. Now, it would be a logical fallacy to state that, if we don't love one another, God's love will never be perfected in us...

BUT SERIOUSLY. THAT'S LIKE, NOT SPELLED OUT FOR MY THICK FAT HEAD AT ALL. We can at least infer that, if we refuse to love one another, our relationship with God is going to be radically stunted. And...and...and!!

*sigh* Voy a callarme ahora. ^_^ Please rip apart this delirious post as you feel inclined, and do correct me!

Last thoughts:

By reaching further up to God's head, heart and hand, one is enabled to reach further in to the soul another, instead of through them. But it's hard to make that journey alone. We must continually be doing both to strengthen the other!

Congratulations to all hard-working Torrey/high school grads; and I miss all you a lot.

Descent into hell (with cookies!)

AAAAAAGHH.

Nota Bene! It is strongly advised to not write blog posts right after registering for classes, finding out that a lot of your credits probably won't transfer to your potential universities and that you're not as good at life as you thought you were. (Granted, the experience of humility is a good one, but it doesn't encourage very thoughtful, thankful, joyful, gracious, appreciative or well-balanced blog posts. In fact, about the only use I can see for the previous post is perspective, which is good despite its tendency towards painful recollection...:P)

In other news, Washington is still as rainy as ever. If you happen to be downed by the rain, however, a good remedy is to make and eat gluten-free peanut-butter chocolate chip cookies, which are crafted as follows:

1 cup of sugar
1 cup of peanut butter
1 egg

Preheat the oven to good ol' 375. Mix all ingredients thoroughly in medium bowl, and slap dough in whatever size you'd like onto the modus operandi (aka cookie sheet/stone. Was that the right Latin form, by the way?). If you'd like, you can press the dough down with a fork for both aesthetic and practical purposes, though it isn't really necessary. Cook for 9 to 11 minutes, or until the cookies are slightly browned. Or slightly more brown than peanut butter is to begin with.

Also, a double batch is recommended, because little munchkins will filch them from your cupboards and devour them at the speed of light! :o

Have a blessed day under the Mercy, friends!

{tabula rasa}

And then
There are the Days.

Obviously,
I am the center of the universe.
This rain is all my work;
The emotional billboard for
My sore, aggriev-ed soul.

For, since I do poorly,
So must everyone else.

Obviously,
This day is bad because
I
am bad.

God must watch over the sparrow
Because I am too selfish to care.

The sparrow cannot help me with
Transfer degrees
Laundry
Moral inventory
People skills
and the fact that I forgot my fork for lunch.

God forgive me.

--------

Selfishness is lukewarm. This half-poem, half-monster is despicably written, but it isn't the worst of anythiing because it unworthy of such a grand title.

Hell is much cleverer than and closer to the human psyche than we'd like it to be.

An Ode to Spring Mornings on which the Sun is Shining and All the Dishes in the Dishwasher are Clean.

Today I drew open the door;
The White Gate
To a world of peril
Or joy.

I was afraid.

Afraid.

Unsure of what would stare at me:
The cold grime of past meals
Encrusted upon tumblers and plates alike,
Or the porcelin pearl
Of a mug well cleansed.

And so with ginger fingers did I
Creak open the Gate and peer inside.

And Lo!
Never in all of time
Paradise
Did I expect to see!
The purest curves of cups and bowls
Glowing demurely back at me.

O, ne'er have you, tumblers, with your
Circus colors and
Wild waves,
Glistened in the golden light
As such the sun provides today.

And you, dear mugs, of sweetest curves
Sing choruses of light divine;
Heralding the morning with
Your gently curving, quiet lines.

I reach into the rainbow,
Reveling
In the crystals of light on each dish.
Nowhere can I find the
Agony of dirt and grime.

You, O mug, I choose for tea.
And never has Earl Grey had a more worthy throne.

But
A cloud passes over
And in the cold second that follows,
I realize the
Blemish
On this 'flawless' vessel.