what Mary did

This is what Mary did:
she found what was necessary
resting at His feet, not too busy

to listen, and Martha did not
understand why Mary wasn't
doing the things she should

have been doing, may not even
have understood when Jesus
explained, and I, Mary and

Martha both, still struggle to
rest, be still, stop moving as if
motion is necessary to hold

everything together when, in fact,
resting is what holds it all together,
freedom from distraction, focus,

listening and hearing, being ready
to listen and hear, the truest busy-ness
of those on Kingdom business?

Renting as a spiritual discipline

I miss living in a house.  I miss the sound the furnace makes when it turns on as I sprawl on the floor under a blanket above one of the vents.  I miss knowing the temperature is not controlled by the people below me blasting their heat they don't have to pay for until I'm in shorts and a t-shirt with all my windows open enjoying a balmy 83 degrees indoors as the snow falls outside.  I miss not having to turn up a DVD or music to block out the raging domestic arguments around me at night when I'm trying to unwind.  I miss control, silence, solitude, ownership of space.

House prices are decent right now.  My credit is excellent.  I could find a good place if I wanted.  I could have my control, silence, solitude, and ownership of space.  But the economy is still a little rocky.  Layoffs are happening; there is no job security, and I'm crippled and exhausted and in debt from being crippled and retraining myself to get a job despite being crippled.  It's probably not a good time to purchase a home.

But when will be a good time?  When will I be safe enough?  When will I be comfortable enough?

Maybe it's better to rent because it means I am not comfortable, not safe, not in control, not "owning" a place.  Maybe that reality can be seen as a reflection of the one where we are strangers, aliens, pilgrims passing through, peregrinating, as St. Augustine called it.  Every mortal life is but a breath, and all that, but we are to be even less attached because we know this place isn't home.  It's not our destination; it's our journey, etc. 

I long for rest, but I won't find it here, won't find it in the control, silence, solitude, and ownership of space here.  That's all an illusion. 

As a renter on a month-to-month lease, I am in an enviable situation.  I am flexible; I can be mobile should I be needed or should I find a more stable job elsewhere.  Wherever I am, I should be content.

Maybe until I am, I need to keep renting to remind myself that I don't belong here, that my real home is where my heart is, and my heart is with God even if I'm in this crappy apartment building listening to her yell at the toddler again and again as I have the AC on because it's warm enough for my allergies to prohibit opening the windows, but folks still have their heat on below me.  Some days it's a really good thing to know that this is not my home.

Fortune cookie smiles

.

"You have a basic 

need for solitude some of
the time" makes me laugh

.

Do you think this is true of everyone?
.

Harry says it well

Came across this quote and felt that, in the interest of sharing what it means to be a loner with those who aren't, I should just post it and invite discussion.  (Please note that I snorted really hard at the Byron crack even though I disagreed with it and got some odd looks from the other folks in the gym.)

"I always considered myself a loner.

"I mean, not like poor-me, Byron-esque, I-should-have-brought-a-swimming-buddy loner.  I mean the sort of person who doesn't feel too upset about the prospect of a weekend spent seeing no one, and reading good books on the couch.  It wasn't like I was a people-hater or anything.  I enjoyed activities and the company of friends.  But they were a side dish.  I always thought I would be happy without them."

- from Ghost Story by Jim Butcher (page 183 of the hardcover edition)

Any comments?  Agree?  Disagree?

Standing still (and loving it)

I have come to a decision.  Not a DECISION set-in-stone-here-I-stand-I-can-do-no-other, but a decision like a rest stop along the way.  I have been wearing myself out wrestling with whether my peculiar distance is a problem I should be trying to change or a gift.  For now, I am tired.  I have decided to let it be a gift for now and to be like this person. 

"Just like always, he never stops things that come, or chases things that leave."

Rather than making myself be concerned over relationships where I have to force myself to chase someone reluctant, I will let myself relax and go back to merely observing and not trying to make things "better."  It's kind of refreshing not to be irritated because I'm putting in effort I don't want to for someone who wants but does not want to be seen as wanting. 

Maybe it's okay to just be me.  It worked for years before I got paranoid about it.

I think I feel better already.

Do you know any people (other than me) who could be described with this quote (and seem happy with their lot)?

And the people rejoiced: a brief lesson in the joys of schadenfreude?

My across the hall neighbors (affectionately nicknamed "The Drug Dealers") are being evicted.  This makes me happy.  I feel a little guilty about how happy it makes me, but not too much because I was starting to get really quite scared. 

Too many strangers (mostly young males) coming freely in and out of the building (including the somewhat closed off exercise room) using their access.  Too many odd scents/tastes/excessive incense/smoke/other substances my lungs don't like that sometimes waft into my apartment.  Too many late night raging domestic arguments outside my door.  Too many drunken (or possibly stoned) accidental, late night attempts to come into my apartment by mistake and some missing decorations from my door have made me even more nervous than the other stuff.  (Who steals a stick-on Christmas ornament off of someone's door? In October?!)  At least they were thorough and took a strip of the fake ribbon to hang them with; otherwise it would just be unidentifiable and tacky.

I am fairly certain I am not being loving at all.  I've prayed for them without any real commitment, mostly because I live alone and was afraid God would ask me to do something friendly, dangerous, and stupid.  That's also problematic. 

How can a single woman living alone who is antisocial anyway be neighborly/behave in a Christ-honoring but smart way to her neighbors?  Any suggestions?

Being Alone on Christmas: Merry Christmas!

My mother is worried that I'm spending another holiday alone. 

I am nearly delirious with happiness to be spending a holiday alone. You have no idea how wonderful this is for me and people like me who love solitude.

I do not have to talk to anyone.  I don't have to fake-smile at anyone.  I don't have to pretend to be interested in them just in case they are a secret shopper who could cost me my job.  I don't have to be polite to rude or drunk folks.  No one will touch my arm or any other part of my body without permission.  No one will get mad at me for not having the product they waited too long to try to find and won't have in time for the holidays.

If I smile, it's because I want to, because I am joyful, because I read something great or heard a beautiful song, because I'm figuring out how to use the camera on my phone, or because I am writing a Christmas card to someone I love.

I am alone; I can relax.  I am not on display, not on stage, not desperately trying to act coherent.

Because I don't have to talk, I don't have to hear myself slur words because of exhaustion.  I don't have to be embarrassed.  I don't have to drive anywhere.  I don't have to worry about hurting anyone if I flake out at the wheel.  I don't have to listen to the Chipmunks singing Christmas carols (that Alvin, he is such a little rascal).  I only have to listen to what I choose to hear.

I don't have to be making my arms hurt worse, and I don't have to hide the pain when they throb.  No one will see me drop anything or trip or fall over or run into things.

It's exhilarating, this being alone.  Being able to be alone, just me and God, on Christmas Day makes me think maybe I really can keep going once the madness starts up again.  Alone time is where/when/how I recharge my energy, and it has been this way for years, but my mom can't help but worry.

At least she doesn't seem concerned specifically about the fact that I'm not with a boyfriend or husband.  She really just wants us all somewhere she can see us and watch over us during the holidays.  At least, she's getting good at making it seem that way. :) 

I wish my solitude didn't cause her such worry as it causes me such joy.  I'm a little too tired to be concerned for her right now, though.  Now is a time for me to bask in the present solitude God has given me.  It's the best present anyone could give me right now.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!