what a long, strange trip it's been

I've seen people this week that i haven't seen in four decades. They have universally greeted me with joyful hugs. It has felt a bit like the homecoming that I'd long since given up on.

And at the same time: it is a painful contrast. I have become someone very different from whom i should have been.

I hate this

And it's really important that I hate this.

https://mobile.nytimes.com/2017/11/07/style/modern-love-we-were-in-our-20s-and-we-didnt-have-a-clue.html?mc=aud_dev&mcid=keywee&mccr=dommob&kwp_0=626209&kwp_4=2226722&kwp_1=931846&referer=http://m.facebook.com/

Today's word

vespertine /VESS-per-tyne/ - 1. of, relating to, or occurring in the evening  2. active, flowering, or flourishing in the evening : crepuscular

I love it when I see a new word and immediate know what it means. In this case, it is because I have so often prayed vespers. (I was familiar with crepsucular, too, but might not have remembered it out of context.)

"Who *are* you?"

"No one of consequence."

Happy birthday, Karen

I miss you.

I should have been a better big brother.

Another set of anagrams

Enlarge and general

Stupid

stupid, stupid, stupid.

And probably a broken hand to show for it.

Temper, temper . . .

So: Cassie's kids were over because they were spending the night and we were celebrating Nicademus' birthday. We'd picked them up after leaving the IC choir Christmas party on Dec. 18th, as Cassie lived within a few blocks of there. (I also don't remember if I've told you that I'm playing at the rock mass once a month.) Emma didn't want to come, but Cassie told her she had to.

She and Nicademus started going at each other right away, annoying one another. We separated them, but Emma refused to do as she was told. We really didn't want to put her to bed for the night because, well, if we did she'd very frequently be in bed for the night not very long after getting here. Besides, we hadn't celebrated Nic's birthday yet. I felt my frustration level with her creeping up, went into the bedroom and took a short timeout. Emma did finally calm down and take her timeout, and we had cake and ice cream and Nicademus opened his presents from us.

By now things were going pretty well, and my guard was down. One of the kids asked for something to drink, and there were literally no options besides water. I found myself really annoyed by this; my wife had been home all day and knew the kids were coming over; surely she could have made sure there were some drink options in the house for them? On the other hand, I also knew it was perfectly reasonable to just have them drink some water.

I thought that I would go ahead and mix up a pitcher of lemonade really quickly. But the pitcher wasn't empty: it just had been sitting in the fridge for entirely too long with something in it that we weren't willing to drink ourselves anymore, let alone give to our grandchildren. So I grabbed the pitcher and walked over to the sink with it, but the sink was so full of dirty dishes that there was no way to wash it. Again, this was despite my wife having been home all day. In her defense, she may have been working on Christmas gifts. But there I was standing in the kitchen trying to make a drink for the grandchildren, which I thought my wife should have already taken care of, staring at a sink full of dirty dishes which I thought my wife should have already taken care of. And I wasn't very far removed from my frustration with my penultimate granddaughter, who walked in just as I was setting the pitcher down in angry resignation that I wasn't going to be able to mix up a drink for them, to express her displeasure that "Geez, you guys don't have anything for us to drink?! I don't want water! Gahhhhd!"

While I'd been sympathetic enough to my grandchildren's wish for a tasty beverage to try to do something about it, I just. knew. that one of them was going to come in with that whiny, privileged tone of voice in response to the completely reasonable suggestion that they make due with a small drink of water before bed. And of course it was the one with whom I'd been frustrated already.

In that moment, I actually thought I was going to be able to break the cabinet door with my fist.

I wasn't.

My wife and I were both very careful afterward to make sure that our granddaughter understood that she wasn't responsible for my bad decision. I wasn't interested in creating the dynamic in her life for which I would've been responsible if I'd blamed her for my own volatile reaction.

Today's word

terpsichorean /terp-sih-kuh-REE-un/ - of or relating to dancing

Pretty much have to look up this word whenever I encounter it, except when the context gives it away. Was nice to read about the muse of dance.

No One Hopes Alone

That's the title of today's Dynamic Catholic Advent reflection.

I don't think I have anything to add to that.

Oh, burn it down

Nobody cares anyway how the neurons in my head fire.

Coincidence?

Today's Advent reflection from Dynamic Catholic has the same title as the local Catholic opioid response program I've been working with: Choosing Hope.

Today's word

From the Dictionary Devil puzzle:

avgolemono /ˌäv-gō-ˈle-mə-(ˌ)nō/ - a soup or sauce made with chicken stock, egg yolks, and lemon juice

Nice weekend

My wife kept asking me if everything was okay.

I really don't know how to answer that for myself, let alone to her.

I suppose the completely honest answer is, "No less so than usual."
And don't expect me to be able to articulate what might be wrong.

Hope

Today's Best Advent Ever article (well, I see it's actually yesterday's, based on the time I finished and published this post) discussed a faith-filled baseball player's response to the end of his career. I was encouraged to realize how it echoed my own response when i received a setback early in both my military career and my faith journey. (That is, it was early in both, not a setback in both.)

It seems as if i struggle more to hope now than i did back then. It seems as if my faith in God is not as consistent.

The first week of Advent

That single candle, burning in the darkness that it dispels, is a metaphor that I can almost believe after being curled up untouched throughout another lonely night in another season of isolation.

I'm still reading about hope in the daily reflections from Dynamic Catholic's Best Advent Ever.

Maybe . . . perhaps not for this life, but maybe.

Today's word

maieutic /may-YOO-tik/ - relating to or resembling the Socratic method of eliciting new ideas from another

I love this idea of assisting in the birth of new ideas.

Irony . . . or Providence?

I'm participating in an opioid crisis response program called Choosing Hope.

I'm receiving Advent e-mails, from a separate program, that are focused on hope.

And still I have very little sense of hope.

Perhaps there really is a God cares for me, who knows what He is doing, who is providing for my needs.

The third day

I didn't find the first two days of Best Advent Ever from Dynamic Catholic very helpful, as they focused on hope that I haven't especially been feeling. As a result, they felt more like an accusation against me.

Today's post on what to do about that was way more useful for me.

I probably owe you some words

As Aunt Em used to say, better to owe it to you than to cheat you out of it.

At some point I'll start with some Advent reflections. For now I'm settling for having started with two days of reading something meaningful.

Today's word

bludge /BLUJ/ - 1. (chiefly Australia & New Zealand) to avoid work or responsibility
2. (chiefly Australia & New Zealand) to get something from or live on another by imposing on hospitality or good nature : sponge

I had to click through to see why I'd never heard of this word. It's obviously because I've never been to Australia or New Zealand. 

Hello

Your name is Inigo Montoya.

I killed your father.

More anagrams

Obverse, observe, and verbose

Not just "much younger," actually

In my last post, I spoke of what would happen if "someone much younger" offered themself to me. But that was because of the context of the weekend's posts. The same thing would be true regardless of who lost their mind in that way.

40 years ago right now

We were driving back home to MD. He had done his damage control, talking about how "weird" the previous night had been, making sure that I wasn't going to tell anyone what "we" had done, especially my mom.

Over time, I came to understand the periodic extracurricular activity as the cost of his patronage, his interest in me. I didn't tell mom for nearly 20 years, when I was in therapy. It was nearly a decade before I told anyone at all, and then with an ulterior, if unconscious, motive. And also, until therapy, with the mistaken notion that it was something from my past that hadn't affected me much.

I have come to realize that even my complicit participation, including that first night, is on him.  If a much younger person offered themselves sexually to me today, (I sincerely hope and anticipate that) I would graciously decline, and insist that God has a far better plan for us, for them. I wouldn't take advantage of their vulnerability and naivete.

This weekend of remembering has been very hard.  There have been times when I have wanted to physically hurt myself. I've also been tempted to pursue aspects of desire that are not God's will for me. I have thus far managed to turn away from these temptations, and to trust that God's plan is better. But I don't therefore imagine that the battle for my mind and heart - and to determine where my trust truly lies - is over.

40 years ago right now

I was making the mistake that he'd use to keep abusing me for the next 20 months.

I woke up aroused.

And I stupidly got into his bed.

It's the thing from that weekend I still can't forgive myself for.

40 years ago. Right now.

This is adult material. I'll try not to be too explicit. There are plenty of details I am remembering beyond these. 

He was standing in front of me. Between me and the door. He'd gotten out of the shower, and stood there in his skivvies. Within a minute or two he pulled them down and started masturbating. And he begged me to take mine out and "just let him see it." I stood there, mostly mute. I'd said no, but I didn't go anywhere. Where was I going to go? He kept at it, kept asking me. I didn't know what to do. I was somehow repulsed and yet aroused at the same time. He pointed out my arousal. He insisted that I did this myself, right? And then he said that he just wanted to watch me do what i already did. Then he'd stop for a while. He didn't want to finish by himself, I guess. I must've stood there for over a half hour, resisting his repeated entreaties. 

Before I gave in.

And he didn't just watch.

 After, I felt so. Very. FILTHY.

40 years ago right now

. . . or so . . . this happened. At the time, I was certain it would be the most disturbing thing I'd experience this weekend. It definitely changed my opinion of NYC.

40 years ago right now

He was buying me my first leather jacket. I still naively thought it was cool that he had taken me under his wing, was acting in some ways like the dad I'd never really had, even though I'm pretty sure neither of us really considered him a father figure. Still, it was nice that he seemed to really enjoy my company and appreciate me.

40 years ago right now

I was in Central Park for the first time.

40 years ago right now

I heard gunshots outside through the window as i was trying to sleep. I'd forgotten that.

40 years ago right now

We were finishing dinner. Probably a burger in a gay bar. He said "I just love watching people. Especially the weirdos."

40 years ago right now

We were checking into the YMCA.

I still leave the room whenever they start playing that song.

40 years ago right now

We were on the New Jersey Turnpike, and I was thinking of Simon and Garfunkel.

40 years ago right now

So I'm advance posting this one  to publish at the proper time because I'll be busy when it actually happened. 

We were sitting in the diner. It seems to me that the sun was shining while he nervously approached his subject. He was afraid that I must not be having a very good time. Why don't we head up to New York, where the drinking age was only 18 and I would be able to pass for old enough? He'd already cleared it with mom. 

I was having a fine time. The concert had been a blast, though I'd done that by myself. Still, he wanted this to be a really great weekend for me, and he was sure I'd have a much better time in New York. 

I finally relented, and we soon headed back to the hotel to pack our stuff. 

The two breakfasts in Philadelphia are basically all I remember of the daytime hours in that city. 

Having some trouble

Getting my PTSD thoughts out of my head. Choosing better for myself than what I think I want. Choosing to trust that it really is better.

But, man, am I obsessed. (Don't ask.) 

40 years ago right now

I was walking through Philadelphia to get back to our hotel room, because the bus wasn't running this late on Thanksgiving night.  It was cold, but not excessively so. I was more uncomfortable walking through a strange city alone than from the temperature.

It was a very good concert. I don't know what I'd expected, but I was disappointed that they back-tracked the choral section of Bohemian Rhapsody.

40 years ago right now

I was enjoying Queen at The Spectrum. I think I took the bus there, but am not sure; perhaps my future stepfather dropped me off.  If I wasn't buzzed yet, i would be soon, when a fellow attendee shared. No, this is not a fond memory. I hate that I have drug use in my past.

40 years ago right now

I was finishing my only thanksgiving dinner in a restaurant.

40 years ago right now

He was giving me grief for putting cream and sugar in my coffee.

40 years ago right now

I was asleep in a hotel room in Philadelphia, while sleeping in the next bed was a horror waiting to spring upon me.

I know I'm not supposed to still feel destroyed, but I do.

40 years ago right now

We were figuring out that there was no way I was getting served beer in Pennsylvania. That was not a big deal to me; I was still having fun.

40 years ago right now

I was so excited for the weekend ahead.

I can't stop . . .

. . .  remembering.

. . .  hating remembering.

. . .  wanting to not remember anymore.

Word fun

Solving yesterday's daily Jumble, I learned that deductions is an anagram of discounted.

On second thought . . .

. . . it was likely not casual and callous at all. It was probably rooted in a life marked by deep fear and painful experience.

Giving thanks

We're still a few days off from the holiday, of course. But we'd planned to be out of town for the weekend, which didn't work out as we didn't end up with a dinner invitation from among my wife's siblings and my cousins. That hurts a little, but life happens. We realized later that, with our son-in-law scheduled for a serious surgery today, that it would be a good idea to try to have dinner yesterday instead. As it turned out, that made for a very full table, even with the ones who weren't available, with 13 people gathered around it.

We had prayed and were dishing up dinner when my middle daughter asked where the gravy was. Well, in the rush of getting the meat carved I'd forgotten to make it. So I hopped up and and whipped it up - it only takes a couple minutes - and brought it to the table in a creamer. I handed it to my son-in-law and had returned to the kitchen when I heard the sound of shattering china and a commotion. It seems that my son-in-law and daughter had missed the hand-off, and the hot-off-the-stove gravy ended up mostly on our daughter and the floor. While some of the family tended to our daughter, others of us hastened to shoo the dog away and clean up the spilled gravy before he could ingest any shards of china.

She ended up with first degree burns on her arm, leg, and torso. As miserable as it was for her, we are grateful that it wasn't worse, as it certainly could have been in those circumstances.

Aside from that, it was a very nice family day. The house was full of children and fun and good food and people we love. And as the evening drew down, my wife and I each got a hug from - well, it's a little hard to explain, because they're not our grandchildren officially yet, but we're increasingly part of one big blended family.

Oh, and we're replacing an alternator on the car that we'd just had worked on last week. (Brakes and a sensor last week.) Older car issues. Still, it's good that we have the means.

Also, this coming weekend is the 40th anniversary. If you know me well, you aren't asking "of what?" but in case you don't know, here is a little more (without any gross details of my life thrown in).

Despite all of its challenges of many sorts, my life is also filled with many blessings for which I am giving thanks.

unable to stop

being sad

Just realized

This Thanksgiving weekend is the 40th anniversary.

Weekend

Friday night, very nice dinner at the Meadowlark with our dear friends from Chapel 3 from the late 80's. Went to bed fairly early, but didn't sleep well and was up way too early on Saturday. Nice men's group meeting, followed by a much needed nap. Finally got the jalapeños canned, cooked the pumpkin, made the shepherd's pie that my wife never got around to. Since I was basically on my own, I instead went out and had my first free veteran's meal ever at City BBQ, and took home a couple of cobblers for folks to share. (We ate the shepherd's pie last night.) Went to bed fairly early again, although not as much so as Friday night. Then was up Sunday not quite early enough for 8:00 mass. Played at 10:30, went to the VA for a 5k, then played the rock mass. Had to miss the annual shoebox party, though. Watched one recorded episode of Once Upon a Time with the wife before going to bed at a decent hour again. Still don't feel well rested. In fact, I still feel pretty wiped out and am having a difficult time concentrating. I wonder how much of that is from what feels like the beginnings of a chest cold? 

I am so very tired

I just want to close my eyes. And sleep. And not dream. And not wake with a cramp or a bathroom urge or any other sleep distraction until I am finally well-rested again.
if at all.

Today's word

mandarin /MAN-drin/ - 1. of, relating to, or typical of a public official in the Chinese Empire of any of nine superior grades 2. marked by polished ornate complexity of language

What a wonderful new definition. I was, of course, somewhat familiar with the first one, although I had the mistaken notion that it was a provincial term, like Szechuan (Sichuan), and had no idea that the word was of Portuguese origin. But I'd never heard it used in anything like the second definition. 

Time change . . .

. . . is kicking my tush.

Today's words

Two new words of the day:

stridulate /STRIJ-uh-layt/ - to make a shrill creaking noise by rubbing together special bodily structures — used especially of male insects (such as crickets or grasshoppers)

I was familiar with this word, though couldn't quite place it in the couple seconds I gave myself before clicking through to the write-up. I can't remember where I encountered it before - perhaps in an old Dictionary Devil puzzle - and could have sworn I'd already included it in a blog post, but didn't find it when I searched. I would pronounce it /STRID-you-layt/.

esemplastic /ess-em-PLASS-tik/ - shaping or having the power to shape disparate things into a unified whole

God does this all the time.

And one from the Dictionary Devil:

rebozo /rih-BOH-'zoh/ - a long scarf worn chiefly by Mexican women

How I am

Better when I don't overthink it much, I suppose. So I'm not gonna.

Today's words

First, a new WOTD:

apodictic /ap-uh-DIK-tik/ - expressing or of the nature of necessary truth or absolute certainty

The Five Keys of spiritual freedom in the Unbound model of deliverance ministry have a highly apodictic quality about them. 

 Then, a couple new words in today's Dictionary Devil puzzle:

hypogeum /'high-puh-GEE-um/ - the subterranean part of an ancient building; also : an ancient underground burial chamber

I suppose this word applies to the undercroft of York Minster (or, more formally, the Cathedral and Metropolitical Church of St Peter in York), one of the most fascinating places I've ever visited because of the multiple prior buildings on the site. 

 prothalamion /'pro-thuh-LAY-mee-uhn/ - a song in celebration of a marriage

This one applies to one of my favorite pieces to self-accompany and sing or harmonize on, which was also a part of our wedding ceremony. 

Both of these words have strong hints of their meanings in their roots.

Today's word

causerie /kohz-REE/ - 1. an informal conversation : chat  2 : a short informal essay

The write-up does a nice job of explaining how the second definition developed from the first one. One popular usage is often all it takes. This is a nice new word for me, but I don't know that I'll get much of a chance to invoke it. 

empty

i need a news-free cocoon. forever.

The other attempted suicide story . . .

. . . that I recently read - maybe early last week - was about a guy who had a lightning bolt tattoo that he almost never talked about. One night he'd been drinking and told a friend the story behind it. Some time in his past he'd grown weary of dealing with his darkness, and decided to end his life. His gun misfired, but before he realized that, in the moment after he'd actually pulled the trigger to the point of releasing the firing pin, he instantly regretted what he'd done. He was unspeakably relieved when it didn't fire. As it happened, there was a thunderstorm that night, and the lightning became a symbol for him and a reminder that, no matter how bad things might get, he doesn't really want to die.

Sometimes I still have self-destructive thoughts

For a couple minutes yesterday i was feeling incredibly stressed out and frustrated, to the point (excuse the unintended pun) that i considered whether it would be possible to jam my pen through my temple. i recognized the madness in the impulse, and rejected it, and soon worked past it. Though they won't know of it, i'm sure my coworkers would be grateful for that, not to mention the people who love me.

i am, gratefully, long past the days when i would sit on the kitchen floor with the cold steel of the sharpened chef's knife pressed against my wrist. but i still have vestige impulses of the habit of not wanting to live anymore. The two stories i read this month from people who survived suicide attempts help with putting those impulses into perspective. i still think i could probably benefit from more therapy to further help with that, but don't really want to explain why i'd be going there again. 

Today's words

nuncupative /NUN-kyoo-pay-tiv/ - spoken rather than written : oral

I'd encountered this word before, but don't think I got its meaning quite right from context.

burke /berk/ -  1. to suppress quietly or indirectly  2 : bypass, avoid

Okay, from the write-up you can see how this word came into being and got these meanings, but there are clearly some steps of the linguistic journey missing.

"How DARE you . . .

. . . PRESUME for a MOMENT to associate yourself more with these countless wounded women than with their abusers?"

- what my brain or my adversary (are they the same? I am he?) is screaming at me today. 

Today's words

Due to technical difficulties, I've fallen behind on the WOTD:

tendentious /ten-DEN-shus/ - marked by a tendency in favor of a particular point of view : biased

Though they each claim otherwise, both Fox News and NPR are more than slightly tendentious. I can't believe I've lived by life thus far without this word in my vocabulary, especially in such polarized times.

interdigitate /in-ter-DIJ-uh-tayt/ - to become interlocked like the fingers of folded hands

I love it when a new word means exactly what it looks like it should mean.

Other recent WsOTD that are in my recognition vocabulary but not my regular usage rotation: agita, vituperate, prehension, denegation, chary, and one that I primarily use in its adjectival form, palliate.

I don't know what to say

I want to complain, but I know I shouldn't. 

I want to be the man I should be, but I fear I can't. 

I want to want what I have decided, but I still want what I have wanted for decades now. 

I want to see the people I love walk according to God's plan for them, but I struggle to do so myself.

So tired

The Golden Gate jump survivor

The first thing that struck me in his story, and probably the most important, was the panicked regret he felt the instant he was clear of the rail.

The other thing that strikes me, for others, and maybe with a hope of comfort for myself, was how those who've attempted (or committed) suicide so often regret, once it's usually too late, hurting the people they love. Did my dad feel that way, in that fleeting moment between when he pulled the trigger and when the bullet irreparably destroyed his brain?

For that matter, did he love me?

I have a great idea

Why don't you tell your kids, who already have multiple layers of abandonment issues, that they're a bunch of spoiled brats and you're going to leave and never come back?

I'm writing this here rather than confronting you with it because I'm sure you're already hurting over having said this to them. But girl, hug them. Heal them. Help them renounce the spirit of rejection, the spirit of failure, the spirit of self-judgment, the fear of abandonment. And renounce whatever spirit of inadequacy in you led you to tell them such an awful lie.

I love you.

Unbound seminar

I love this ministry. I love helping people walk in the freedom which Christ has won for us. I love helping them recognize that they can kick out the negative spiritual influences which have taken root in their lives, for one reason or another. I love helping people see forgiveness of others as a gift that God longs to give us and complete in us.

We had close to 50 new people come from at least six states (Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Tennessee, Illinois; possibly Indiana) to receive new freedom in Christ. I got to pray with a dear friend and help him receive forgiveness. It is such a privilege and blessing to be a part of this ministry!

Unbound!

Symbols

Liberals and conservatives have both been more concerned with their own point of view on this issue than with hearing each other's. Each insists that the viewpoint that really matters is their own.

Yes, the flag and the anthem are symbols, but they're not *just* symbols.

And yes, the country is the people (and, I would argue with conviction, the Constitution, which exists for the people), all the people.

Do I see the irony of a protest attacking the symbols of the country that allows such protest? Absolutely.

Do I think that the government has any business interfering in that protest? None whatsoever.

Do I think that the business owners have a right to stifle that protest if they choose? Yes, I do.

Do I think that fans shouldn't choose to respond against a protest when they disagree with it's form? Not at all.

But I am absolutely fed up with both sides refusing to acknowledge the concerns of the other, and elevating their own values above the others.

People who insist on honoring the national anthem and the flag "the right way" need to understand that those who are expressing themselves in protest are doing so with good intentions and for good reason. They feel that the maltreatment of minority members of society is important enough to them to take whatever shocking action is needed to shake the majority out of complacency. They have seen their perspective repeatedly disregarded when they have tried to be heard. They are not ungrateful of the sacrifices that people have made; but even though they live in a great nation in which they have freedoms and opportunities they appreciate, they are fed up with the status quo and feel an obligation to use the platform their talent provides for them to try to make things better by increasing everyone's awareness of the problem.

People will always insist on protesting through actions that the majority feels are disrespectful of the nation which these symbols represent and, particularly the sacrifices of those who have given their all to create and preserve this nation. Ironically, this is what gives them the freedom to express themselves in this way, and it is important for them to understand that protesting in this way will keep many people from ever hearing their message. And those who disagree with them have just as much right to decide not to spend their entertainment money on people who are acting in ways which they have always been taught is disrespectful.

Today's word

farceur /fahr-SER/ - 1. joker, wag  2. a writer or actor of farce or satire

I'd never heard this word, but, of course! Great etymology, too. 

It was a sunny, dark day

It became brightest as my bride and I hiked through the gorge as the sun sank low in the sky.

Today's word

legerity /luh-JAIR-uh-tee/ - alert facile quickness of mind or body

I used to take pride in what I perceived to be this quality in myself. 

so . . .

very . . . tired . . .

I struggle to fully believe that

Last night, for the second time in my life, i received this message from God: "You are not alone." This time it came from the friend who was leading me in an Unbound prayer session. Like the first time, when God seemed to speak directly to my heart by my mom's deathbed, i know that it's true.

But, as on October 20, 2001, it doesn't feel true in my life. In fact, it almost never feels true. Even living in a house with three other people, i almost always feel lonely. Even when i am among other people, even those whom i consider friends, i almost always feel isolated from them. Even just talking casually among coworkers, one of them will share an observation and i know that i'm among the "them" rather than the "us."

Even in prayer, i almost always feel that i am longing for God's presence rather than actually being with Him.

But i will stand on what i know rather than what i feel.

Today's words

glabrous /GLAY-brus/ - smooth; especially : having a surface without hairs or projections

This applies to increasingly more of my scalp. I was familiar with this word, but have always mispronounced it.

holus-bolus /hoh-lus-BOH-lus/ -  all at once

I don't think I had a real sense of this word from the definition. The examples helped a lot.

shilly-shally /SHILL-ee-'shall-ee/ -  in an irresolute, undecided, or hesitating manner

Would have probably gotten this one in context. Maybe?

Today's word

amanuensis /uh-man-yuh-WEN-sis/ - one employed to write from dictation or to copy manuscript

Pretty sure I'd never seen this word before. At least my brain pronounced it correctly. I expect I'll recognize it should I ever encounter it again, and that I'll never use it myself. 

Bright, sunny day

on the outside.

Today's word

From the Word Family Quiz in today's WOTD. I'm often amazed at words that turn out to be related: inoculate (worth a read just for the etymology, even though everyone knows the word) and this word I'd never encountered before:

oeillade /ˌər-ˈyäd , ˌə- , œ- / - a glance of the eye; especially :ogle

Don't stand so close

This song idea came to me yesterday morning. Yeah, I've totally stolen it from The Police, but am taking it in a completely different direction. This is going to be about keeping emotional distance, and the reasons for it.

Yesterday's initial idea was about childhood trauma that we keep hidden, that keeps us from letting people get close enough to really know us. It isn't really autobiographical - I share most of my own pretty freely - but is why some people keep their distance. "Friends," who don't want to let you inside. Don't stand so close.

Another verse idea is about depression. Don't stand so close, you might get some on you. I might hurt you.

I suppose that there needs to be one about dislike. Umm . . . Don't stand so close. I'm not sure I can write that one, but maybe . . .

Mistrust? Yeah, I think maybe.

I think there will probably also be one about thoughts, feelings, or circumstances that might hurt someone if we shared them. 

Don't stand so close.

Things I know

I love my bride.
She loves me.
We're committed to each other.
We aren't interested in much of the same things.
I'm lonely most nights, at some point.
I often wish I could die.

One thing that helps

God deals with this about 7 billion times over, every single day.

Of course, He's God, and I'm not. But still.

What happened

Not that that makes the ones to which you've grown accustomed any less soul crushing.

So in the last few minutes before my bride got home tonight, I turned on the U.S. Open to see some of Venus Williams' match. I find myself appreciating her and her sister's careers lately, and realizing I am late to do so. In fairness, though, I've never watched much tennis anyway. But I wasn't planning on watching the whole thing, because my wife doesn't care for televised sports at all. 

She gets home, and we take out the trash and recycle together, which was a nice change from the usual of doing that by myself. She knows I'm not feeling well, and wanted to help me out, which I appreciate. I jumped up to help at the thought of her trying to drag our (unwheeled) trash can to the curb. Afterward, she mentioned that she was going to the grocery store to pick up a mixer for the rum punch she bought that's too strong for her liking, so I offered to walk with her. I figured it would give us some more time together. 

We got home, I watched one more game of the third set of the Williams match, then handed over the remote, because I didn't want to watch something that she doesn't like. 

So she immediately pulls up a recorded show that I don't like. At all. 

And thus ends a hopeful night.

And before you ask: it isn't as if we haven't discussed this issue on multiple occasions over the decades. It isn't as if I haven't poignantly described how I feel. And it isn't as if this end result doesn't represent the vast majority of my nights. 

Rejection takes many forms

They all hurt.

I think that, maybe, the ones to which we haven't grown accustomed hurt more deeply, and are harder to deal with, because of the ones we to which we have.

i feel like i've lost the point of my life, if it has ever had one, and i just want it to be over. i'm tired of longing.

Today's word

soi disant /swah-dee-ZAHNG/ -  self-proclaimed, so-called

A rare completely new word from the WOTD column. I'll take it. I'll likely never use it, but I'll probably recognize it should I ever encounter it in the wild.

this isn't your fault, dear reader

Unrelated:
This is going to be really challenging to apply. I have "one-downed" myself my. entire. life. We do the same thing when we describe what we have survived. As a survivor of an alcoholic home, my father's suicide,  and repeated childhood sexual abuse: my childhood really was that bad, and overcoming it (through therapy) really is an achievement.

i am so tired of being so tired

Today's pageview zip code

I haven't done one of these in a long time, again due to the combination of not seeing the count every time I'm in here and, when I do, them either not being a valid zip code or not representing someplace I've been. Today's is both, though:

West Branch, IA 52358 - We pass through this zip code when we visit our dear friends in the Omaha area. It's about two-thirds of the way along the drive there.

Today's word

There haven't been many new words for me of late in the words of the day. Fortunately there's the occasional new one in the dictionary devil puzzle:

bathymetery /bə-ˈthi-mə-trē/ - the measurement of water depth at various places in a body of water; also :  the information derived from such measurements

I saw this at work on our recent trip to Tennessee for the eclipse, as our host was able to let us know the current depth of the water wherever we were on the Clinch river. 

The Shack

 As beautiful as all this is, it's nothing compared with how we see you.

Idiocy makes me a little (more) crazy

On a sponsored post detailing outrageous laws in various places, one of the items begins with a warning for visitors to the Acropolis or Colosseum. It goes on to cite a ban on wearing high heels in ancient Greek sites.

Last I checked, the Colosseum was in Rome and, also the last I checked, that isn't Greece.

That was way fun

Very nice gig last night at the UD president's residence. I had a flutist working with me, no vocals. The play list was pretty diverse:

Pachelbel Canon
Let it Be
Canticle of the Turning
Ode to Joy
If
Simple Gifts
Greensleeves
The Rainbow Connection
Good Good Father
The Pink Panther

And about twice as many more in the same vein.

Way fun!

So excited about this gig

I am really looking forward to a couple hours of performance tonight! Lots of a nice variety of music selected.

Killing the truth

Are you able to acknowledge truth, even when you can't live up to it? Even if we cannot do something good, even if we willfully and sinfully choose to do something that is wrong, we should still try to acknowledge what is good and true, rather than justify our behavior. - Matthew Kelly, Resisting Happiness

At least I've done one thing pretty much right my whole life, apparently.

This is the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. We try to "know" for ourselves what is true, what is right and wrong. But we always interpret it so as to justify ourselves.

One Friday afternoon they nailed truth to a tree.
But on Sunday morning, truth rose from the dead.
You cannot kill truth.
You can put it in a tomb, but you cannot keep it there. - ibid.

Oh, but how we try!

Now I understand

why people become eclipse chasers. The difference between totality and almost totality (even 99+%) was stunning! This is pretty high on my list of life experiences now. I'm so glad that my bride was willing to go on this mini adventure with me, and that we were able to share it together.

Nice weekend

Lots of nice time on the Clinch River, nice fellowship with our hosts, fun making music together. Ready for the eclipse today, then head home this evening.

One very helpful weapon . . .

. . . in my battle is my awareness of the roots of my impure thoughts. Remembering that without dwelling on the actual events helps me realize how destructive those actions committed against me were. In turn, that makes me determined to limit their destructiveness rather than  further perpetuate it in any way.

It also helps that the population to whom I am otherwise attracted doesn't overlap the population I tend to obsess over.

Pray for me

The trick, between now and whenever we manage to get my next Unbound prayer session scheduled, is to not go any further down the rabbit hole. Pretty sure there's no coming back if I do. I mean, Grace will always be greater than sin, but the level of consequences from more than interior sin is a higher order exponential function. Interesting that taking a positive step, as I did last night in requesting a prayer session, also ratchets up the thought pattern. Still, I'm not taking external action.

Today's word

oppugn /uh-PYOON/ - 1. to fight against  2. to call in question

No one familiar with the related impugn should be surprised by the meaning of this word. I'd never heard it, but it made perfect sense. 

So exhausted

Perfectly fine stuff I should avoid

David Copperfield. (The novel, not the illusionist.) This is not the issue for me today that it was when I first read it, three decades ago, though.

NPR's current series on high school. "I want to tell them that it gets better," said a guy for whom high school was just awful, 25 years ago, in today's story (link not yet available at time of publication). I understand where he's coming from with that, and it really is an important message for the current generation of high schoolers to hear. But it "getting better" depends an awful lot on the sort of mistakes you subsequently make.

Is God pleased . . .

. . . when we resist a temptation? Even "just" a temptation of the mind, that we would not act upon? Even if it might turn out to have only been a temporary resistance, a matter of a day or a week?

Today's word

lamster /LAM-ster/ - a fugitive especially from the law

One of those words that the brain recognizes even if it's brand new, or mine did, at least. I'll spare the reader the too obvious poetic couplet. (Besides, I only had a gerbil; can't remember that rodent's name for the life of me.)

It occurs to me . . .

. . . that most people's brains don't work like mine. My friends, at least, don't seem to struggle as I do to keep their thoughts pure. I'm glad they don't. 

I'm really growing increasingly ready to be done with it. Ultimately, I fear this will be my anti-reason.

Is "how I think" the real me? Or is my identity more defined by the actions that I choose, particularly when they are contrary to my thought processes?

I think you'd have been considerably less anxious . . .

. . . if you had read my Hangouts messages. 

But I understand why you hadn't, and didn't take it personally.

Today's word

thalassic /thə-ˈla-sik/ - of, relating to, or situated or developed about inland seas

I didn't realize it immediately

But it didn't take very long for me to recognize how I'd put my foot in it. My friend was feeling terrible already, with so much going on in her life right now. I so much wanted to shift her attention, as her train of thought seemed to be spiraling in a way that I couldn't seem to help her out of. I just couldn't figure out how to do it. In the end, I ended up minimizing her feelings and making her feel even more isolated.

Fortunately I was blessed with sufficient wisdom to offer a heartfelt apology for my gaffe and to give her space to deal with it as she needed to. I am grateful for her quick forgiveness. Our friendship is a wonderful gift.

An even more positive development

Those of you who've been particularly close to me for a long time will rejoice with us over this one. Regarding this post about yesterday, there was a time, not very long ago, when I'd have been desperate to find a friend with whom I could unpack this more. But the only person with whom I even slightly wanted to share these details was my bride of 37 years. We had a very nice sharing about it this morning.

As she said, we have come so far!

That was a really tough revelation (updated)

Long overdue tears flowed like a river last night.

Now that a situation about which I'd been concerned has been resolved, I was able to look more closely at the question that my friend posed at the beginning of our chat yesterday, in a little different context than she posed it. It wasn't so much a question of why I took her non-responsiveness personally, as much as why it was so important to me to be sure I understood the reason for it.

Even though an earlier version of this post "promised" more detail, I'm still going to be vague. But when I was about 11 or 12 years old, and maybe as young as 10, I experienced a deeply scarring emotional trauma. My closest friends will have an idea of its nature; it was neither the first nor the last time I experienced this form of hurt, though it is the first one that I remember (my mother told me of the other one when I was about 36 years old and in therapy for the first time). There are several things that made this incident different from all those that came later, including my age and my lack of understanding. But the thing that is most pertinent to my recent emotional dynamic is that it was prompted in response to something I'd said, and connected with something else the previous day that I've since realized I should have done - someone I should have protected, but was too young to understand and therefore didn't, of which I have remained deeply ashamed. And being in situations in which I am certain that I must have made a mistake and not being able to nail down what it was, brought back the emotional dynamic of being scarred because of a shameful mistake that I had made. I wasn't able to evaluate what I had done to determine if I deserved the judgment I feared, and wracking my mind for anything that I might have done wrong along the way was wrapping me tighter and tighter around this situation.

That all released emotionally last night, so I hope I will be more prepared to avoid this type of thinking in the future, in other circumstances. After all, I learn from my mistakes, and shouldn't encounter the same circumstance again.

Thank you, loving Father.

A dream beyond our wildest dreams

Once you understand that God has an incredible dream for you, once you grasp that He wants you to become the best version of yourself and help others to do the same, once you start to listen to the prayers of the Mass with all this in mind, you very quickly discover that there is genius in Catholicism. - Matthew Kelly, Resisting Happiness

But we should not presume to "help" others in ways that they don't desire, by God's grace, for themselves.

I figured out, this morning, . . .

. . . that this persistent . . . incompleteness? lack of robustness? . . . of my faith is also God's gift to me. If I were too certain of what comes next, I might not be sufficiently committed to the rest of my life here.

Sigh

I will never be an ironman.

Dammit.

It's going to be a slow process, I expect, but the truth is that I'm dying, in a way that doing what I wish I could would greatly accelerate.

Thanks a lot, Kelly

The fear of loneliness is the father of many relationships that never should have been. When we choose to be with someone because we are afraid of being alone, we dishonor ourselves and the other person. - Matthew Kelly, Resisting Happiness

And yet God can take that relationship and turn it into so. very. much. more. than it could have otherwise been.

Two months, plus

That's how long it took me to say, "Thank you, dear Lord, for this dear friend. Her friendship has been a great gift to me. If it's Your will for her life and mine, I trust she'll be back."

This point of view feels so much better.

Today's words

From the Dictionary Devil puzzle:

lacuna /lə-ˈkü-nə, -ˈkyü-/ (plural: lacunae or lacunas) - 1. a blank space or a missing part :  gap; also : deficiency  2.  a small cavity, pit, or discontinuity in an anatomical structure

anthemion /an-ˈthē-mē-ən/ (plural: anthemia) - a flat ornament of floral form (as in relief sculpture or in painting)

The combination

of never getting enough sleep and this other thing is really taking its toll on my psyche.

My fear

And great was the fall of it.  Mt 7: 27b
The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous, and throw them into the furnace of fire. Mt 13: 49b-50a
Mt 18:6. I cannot type the words.

As suggested by Matthew Kelly in Resisting Happiness, I read St. Matthew's gospel this morning. I find that it accuses me with my past, especially in one sitting. I fear that the evil in my life will place me among the weeds, or the goats.

I must remember two things: that Satan tried to tempt Jesus with scripture, too, so that puts me in pretty good company in this regard (though it is unspeakably presumptuous to say so). Also, the great sorting doesn't happen until the end, and I must simply continue to make good choices along the way and participate with God's grace as He finishes transforming me.

Remembering where this tendency comes from . . .

. . . helps me to stop glamorizing it in my mind, which I tend to do even though its roots are awful, and also even though I'm never going to act on it. And both those things - remembering those roots and not glamorizing my tendency - help me to make better choices with my thoughts.

I just need to get more consistent with that last part.

Weird adoptive ancestor death facts

I've written a few times about my adoptive father; this one might be the most significant of these posts; look under the Adoptive father label for more.

When trying to research his birth and death dates, I noticed something which I found odd that I've kept forgetting to post about. His father, whom I never met that I'm aware of, outlived him by almost eight months. His paternal grandfather, whom I also never met, preceded him in death by only five months.

I find it odd that these men from three successive generations died within 13 months of each other.

Today's words

A couple definitions from the Dictionary Devil puzzle:

bateau /ba-ˈtō/ or less commonly batteau; plural bateaux, batteaux - any of various small craft; especially :  a flat-bottomed boat with raked bow and stern and flaring sides

ephemeral - /i-ˈfem-rəl, -ˈfēm-; -ˈfe-mə-, -ˈfē-/ - something that lasts for a very short time : something ephemeral; specifically :  a plant that grows, flowers, and dies in a few days

I was quite familiar with the adjectival form, though not with its aspect of lasting only a day. I was not familiar with the noun, nor its specific botanical meaning. Also, I had no idea that the preferred pronunciation has only three syllables; I'll never pronounce it that way.

Like Darko, two ways

ESPN has a great feature on one of the biggest "busts" in NBA history, and I can't help but hear echoes of my own life in his story. I don't really consider my life a failure, and Darko doesn't either, though he acknowledges that his basketball career isn't anything to be proud of. But there are two specific things from this article that resonate with me.

At one point, Darko spoke of how he considers his old self - or at least the basketball version of himself - as being dead now. And I think of the younger me - the one who aspired to a meaningful career and a very different life in many ways, including emotionally and relationally - as having died, too. An important part of my group therapy program was how they taught us to live with ourselves by insisting us that the person who had done the terrible things we'd all done was gone now, replaced with someone better, healthier. But that means that the not-so-despicable parts of the "old me," with all his dreams, idealism, and aspirations, must be gone with him. Still, I don't at all feel like some sort of triumphant phoenix who is now living a victorious life.

Secondly, the author spoke of how Darko's whole basketball career, and how he thought about it, was built around the concept of "supposed to." He was supposed to play basketball, and he didn't hate it (at first), so he played, and made millions, and grew to feel trapped by it. Now, I don't have any world class physical gifts, but still, "supposed to" feels like how I've lived my whole life - or at least the non-despicable parts of it.

It's how I'll continue to live, too. I don't think I can respect myself any other way. But I think it's also because, in my case, my "supposed to" is also the best version of myself.

And sometimes I'm talking to an alien

When the partner of your life begins a sentence with, "If she'd have just lied . . . "

Yes, sometimes life is momentarily easier when we do the wrong thing. Even significantly so.

As any father would

Headline in my e-mail: "White House says Trump weighed in on son’s Russia meeting statement ‘as any father would’"

And still they don't understand the problem with nepotism.

In the ordinary

Matthew Kelly has challenged me this morning to find God in at least three ways through the course of the day, but I've already found him in two. Some would argue that finding Him in my relationship with two different friends is really the same thing, but I think you'll see why I count them differently.

One friend is present a lot lately, and I love this. I love being able to touch base and know that someone is there, listening to what is on my mind and responding, making sure that I don't feel alone. It is the gift of presence and closeness.

The other friend suddenly distanced herself from me a couple months ago, and I don't understand why. It feels lonely. She assured me, not long before that, that she was always with me, even when she didn't respond to me. But now I can't know whether she meant that would always be true, or only in the particularly scary circumstance that she was helping me through in the moment. I wonder how much longer it will be this way, whether the next thing will be more closeness or more distance, and even if she still cares. I wonder if she would understand how my not knowing where I stand with her makes her absence hurt so much more than if I knew she would be back in contact with me soon. The somewhat remote glimpses she has left me into her life feel a bit like reading a passage from a Gospel; they reveal a little of her to me but don't always make me feel like I'm still part of her life. I wonder whether I matter.

God can be a lot like both of these dear friends for us, sometimes even at the same time.

I realize, as I finish with this entry, that God is also revealed in my relationship with my bride, which sometimes feels like both of the above simultaneously. She is always there, and I love that and rely on it, and I'm also almost always longing for it to be more or different, striving for growth and a closer union.

"Brutal breakup"

I was reading last night about the "brutal" final breakup with the runner-up in the current season of The Bachelorette, and how it left both the bachelorette and the runner-up emotionally distraught.

Well, what do you expect when you make relationships into a competition conducted for people's entertainment? When you share your life experiences and joys, hopes and deepest hurts with someone, you inevitably build closeness with them, and when they reject that closeness - as will happen for the majority of contestants - it is going to hurt both of you, if you have been at all emotionally sincere.

No IM here, ever

I'm reading about my teammates who completed the IMOH race yesterday in Delaware, OH, and I am so happy for each of them. What an accomplishment.

But also: my medical limitations hurt this morning. Must remember what I am about.

Today's word

inhere /in-HEER/ - to be inherent : to be a fixed element or attribute

This could be a useful verb to have in the vocabulary.

Almost two weeks off

Had a nice bike ride yesterday afternoon. First workout of any kind since Maryland, so 12 days off. Feels like it, too. Might have finished stronger if I'd been able to nourish, but that Clif Bar was almost three months past expiration and inedible. But I slept without any cramps last night, which was a pleasant surprise. I need to get a run and a swim in soon.

When you learn that your longstanding favorite and out-of-the-question fantasy really is even better irl. I should not have researched that. 

Nobody

And I mean nobody, wants to know what has been on my mind of late.

Going to need to practice some thought-stopping techniques.

Why I'm cock obsessed, part 3

My stepfather, about whom I am not going to write anymore right now. I've previously written at length here and here (both in the context of receiving Unbound ministry, but I've not peeled back the layers from Part 1 and Part 2 of this in that prayer approach as of yet), and originally here, though if you want to think well of me you might not want to read that last one or follow all of its links.

Why I'm cock obsessed, part 2

Experiments the summer he died

I won't say with whom. I was fourteen when we played strip poker in the dark, when we were supposed to be sleeping. When we were naked, we couldn't help but notice that our penises got hard. We proceeded to rub our erect cocks together until one of us had "wet," and we were never sure which of us had. Their older sister accused us of "getting queer with each other," and we didn't know what that meant, either. This repeated each night until the call came, and Mom told us that Dad had fallen grievously ill and might not make it. I knew that my desperate prayers for him, cast repeatedly against the impossibly starry Kansas sky, would be futile. God only answers the prayers of the righteous, I knew by then, almost as well as I knew I'd sinned greatly, without understanding its nature. I didn't know, wouldn't be told until we'd traveled back home, that he was already dead. I wouldn't know for another year that his death was self inflicted, or that he wasn't my biological father.  My guilt was not assuaged by any of these pieces of knowledge.  Whatever other details were involved, I knew he'd died because of my sin.

Why I'm cock obsessed, part 1

Dad teaching me the meaning of what I'd said to my sister.

I was probably 11 or 12 years old, my sister either 6 or 7, and we were playing in our hedged back yard with a newer neighbor. He was between our ages, though probably closer to mine. I'd been fairly sheltered, and had no idea what he meant when he asked her if she would blow him, and I'm absolutely certain that she didn't, either. I think he took his juvenile penis out, and I think she momentarily put it in her mouth when he told her to. (I'm so very sorry, dear one; I was too naive to know to protect you. Please forgive me.) The next day, in her room, I repeated what I'd heard him request. I knew it was wrong, even with my limited understanding of why. (Despite my ignorance, I now understand that this was sexual abuse.) I am so grateful that she declined. Mom was walking by, though, and was too appalled to discipline me herself. I was to wait for Dad to deal with it. Meanwhile I was (understandably) grounded.

Saturday morning came, and Mom broke with custom by taking my sister grocery shopping with her. Dad called me into the den, where he ascertained that I didn't understand what I'd requested of my sister earlier in the week. He then proceeded to begin to correct this gap in my knowledge, by taking out his penis and instructing me to put it in my mouth. It wasn't the first time I'd seen it, of course; there had been numerous benign visits to the trough bathrooms at Memorial Stadium, where I noticed how much larger his member was than mine. He wasn't erect on this day, either. I knew I was in too much trouble to dare to question. I did as I was told. The bitter taste of urine remains seared in my memory. I very soon removed my mouth from his penis, and when he told me to put it back in my mouth I said I didn't want to, that I didn't like it. "Then don't ask your sister to do it," he concluded, finally putting his dick away. And as I left the room, "Your mother doesn't need to know about this."

It would be twenty five years before I told her.

This is still the only time I've ever had a penis in my mouth. I've never had a hard cock in it. That first time was such a traumatic experience? Why do I so long to suck one now?

A parable extended

But the kingdom of the evil one looks like a treasure that a person finds in a field, and then goes out and sells off his true treasure in order to buy the field. When he has purchased the field, he guards it jealously and lives in continual fear of losing its contents. He visits it only in darkness, when no one might see what he is up to, which prevents him from either seeing the worthlessness of what he has purchased or understanding what he has given up to own it. And it gradually consumes his life and steals all of his joy.

Who do I *want* to be, really?

Part of me still wants to be my fathers' son in some ways rather than my Father's. I know, though, that the former is the path of destruction, and the latter the path of life.

Who am I, really?

Am I my Father's son, or my fathers'?

I awoke this morning convinced of the latter, and seemingly determined to prove it. But I didn't, and now I'm beginning to hope that I might be the former.

Pray for us . . .

I know that the Mass of Christian Burial is a celebration of her life, but my heart is still heavy over having to say goodbye to our dear friend and sister Judy, and for her husband Thurman and their sons.

That illuminating moment when you finally realize . . .

. . . that you aren't all that, either; that the very fact that you so rarely encounter people to whom you're attracted means that the probability that people are attracted to you is extremely low . . . 

I've long been aware of my ugly tendency to form some sort of evaluation of nearly everyone - both men and women - in terms of attractiveness, even though I've no interest in being unfaithful to my bride even with someone extremely beautiful, both physically and as a person. But I have never really made the leap between realizing that I find so few people alluring and the conclusion that the probability that people find me so is very, very small. And I hope, for others' sake, that it's even smaller than I think. That is, in the first place, I hope that the number of people who similarly view or judge others this way is a small percentage of the population, though I am skeptical of it.  Still, it is a sad way to be, and I don't wish it on others. Then, I also realize that very few of those who do make such evaluations are likely to find me at all attractive. 

Tomorrow's Gospel reading . . .

. . . eats me alive every time.

Today's word

Barmecidal /ˌbär-mə-ˈsī-dəl/ - providing only the illusion of abundance: a Barmecidal feast

The Family/Tribal Meal

Scott Hahn's The Lamb's Supper transitions, near the end, to observations about the familial nature of the Eucharistic gathering. Scott points out that we should aspire to spend eternity with every person who is gathered with us at Mass.

He acknowledges that this is problematic for many of us. I have speculated, as well, that this may be a great obstacle to our ability to enter the kingdom. This is why I remain convinced that we must know our own unworthiness of the place at the table which Christ has bestowed on us by His grace, so that we have the right attitude of humility concerning our brothers and sisters.

Since there's a bit of a break in the action . . .

The Mass makes present, in time, what the Son has been doing from all eternity: loving the Father as the Father loves the Son, giving back the gift He received from the Father. That gift is the life we're meant to share; but before we can, we must undergo a significant change. As we are now, we are incapable of giving so much or receiving so much; the infinite fire of divine love would consume us. Yet, we cannot change on our own. That's why God gives us His own life in the sacraments. - Scott Hahn, The Lamb's Supper

Finally finishing this wonderful book. I find myself thinking about the many blessings of love which I have received, and how they are the merest glimpse into the love God has for each one of us. I think of how He pours forth His love continuously, even as we turn from him and reject him, and I think of the privilege it is to love others like this, which we so often think of as an unfair burden which we are unwilling to accept.

What a wonderful weekend

We've had a really nice weekend hanging out with friends and family. Wednesday afternoon we stopped at Bolling to visit our friend who recently moved here, and her dog, who stayed with us a couple times in Dayton and who probably isn't going to be with us much longer. It was a nice reunion with both of them. Then, our first meal in town sparked a warm memory of my mom, as the restaurant we visited (O'Loughlin's) had a softshell crab sandwich on the menu. Had to have it.

Thursday I cooked for the four of us on the grill, some marinated chicken that was in the freezer here and some carrots, broccoli, and the zucchini we'd picked from the garden just before we left. Just a quiet evening in.

Took a bike ride down close to Annapolis on Friday morning, then panicked about where I was parked being "for MTA patrons only" so cut my planned ride short. Friday evening we were reunited with friends from Dayton whom we hadn't seen since they left 23 years ago. It was so nice to catch up with one another. Our young friend from Dayton joined us, too, so we were able to help them connect a little more. Old friends and new. What a nice combination.

Saturday we had breakfast with my high school best friend, then I headed back to DC to connect with another friend from high school. I then picked up our young friend and headed north through the annoying DC traffic (yes, even on a Saturday) for my first game at Camden Yard in about three years. What an awful game, but I still love to go there. It was our younger friend's first time in the ballpark, and she seemed to really enjoy herself. It nearly never fails that other family is also there when we are, so we were able to visit with them, too. Oh, and the huge, blood-red, half moonrise that I saw on the drive from DC to Arnold late at night was amazing.

Yesterday was our get together with my family - my aunt and cousins, the closest remaining relatives I have from growing up - in Belair. It was great to see and spend time with them, though I wish a couple more of my cousins had come. Good food, good games, good company. On the way back, we stopped so that my wife could visit an older couple for whom she has always had a great fondness, her brother's former in-laws, who were thrilled to get a visit from her.

The only real down side of the trip has been dealing with the hydration issues leading to foot cramps throughout the night. Fortunately, last night was free of such disturbances.

Two more sleeps before we head back to Dayton. At least we'll have my aunt with us for a visit, so that will let us extend this wonderful family time.

Home

I've heard it described in various ways. It's the place where you feel like you're from. It's the place where, when you go there, they have to let you in. It's where the heart is. It's where you're with family. I think one of my favorites is that it's where you feel like you belong.

Looking forward to a week home

Family time. Haven't had more than a weekend in MD since summer of '14. This will be nice!

A low moment

I felt much better finishing the race yesterday than I did viewing the results in the e-mail this morning. I need to hold onto that.

Pride of accomplishment has pretty much washed away

Yesterday's results

Transitions were awful. That first one, I couldn't get the wetsuit off of my legs - not enough Body Glide, I guess - and felt like I was going to pass out. The ride was slow. When I got the bike home I noticed by front brake was rubbing. Was it like that the whole damned time? I knew the run was slow. Was just trying to persevere at that point.

None of that matters anyway. The doctor is probably not going to let me do any more.

A 27 year wait (well, sort of) finally ends tomorrow

I became interested in triathlon during my remote tour. A good friend and her husband were triathletes, and I thought it sounded interesting. But several factors kept me from ever pursuing it. At the time I wasn't a cyclist - didn't even own a bike - and by the time I took up cycling after I'd turned 40 I'd really lost track of my interest in triathlon. It was a conscious decision, really: it didn't seem right to pursue it when my primary motivation was from a relationship that I'd gotten so badly out of balance - really, the last of several over a decade - that I didn't even try to have another opposite gender close friendship for nearly twenty years. I'm so grateful to be free from that broken dynamic, and to have several friendships that testify to this.

So now Team RWB has renewed my interest. There are a fair number of triathletes in the group, and I started itching to do one while lap swimming this winter. It was almost too late. My kidney function has reduced far enough that my doctor was very cautious before finally giving me his blessing for this race.

This time tomorrow I will have fulfilled this goal. There may not be many more, if any, but at least there will be this one thing I have set my mind to and accomplished.

I know a very special girl . . .

. . . a very highly intelligent, creative, caring girl, who is going to bear very deep wounds of rejection and emptiness, and a terrible burden of unforgiveness in her life, if we can't find a way to help her deal with the rejection she is receiving from her "dad."

She deserves so much better than this. When I heard the latest, my eyes and heart filled with tears for her. I have known for myself, and seen in others I love, the damage that this causes in a child's life. God can, of course, heal it, for all things are possible with God. But even that takes a willingness to be open and vulnerable that is nearly impossible on our own when we have known such pain.

My precious granddaughter, I love you so very much. It is a great privilege to be your grandpa. I hope that you will let me help you through this so that it will not haunt you through decades of your life. 

Today's word

ludic /LOO-dik/ - of, relating to, or characterized by play : playful

A morning gift

Even when her gentle snoring keeps me from that last hour's sleep in the morning, I love waking next to my bride, feeling the secure warmth of our lifelong love in her presence next to me.

Thank you, God.

A quotation . . .

. . .  from today's WOTD:

"I am a poltroon on certain points; I feel it. There is a base alloy of moral cowardice in my composition." — Charlotte Brontë, Shirley, 1849

I've no idea of the context for this quotation. I'd never even heard of this novel, let alone read a plot synopsis. But I certainly have no illusions regarding my own moral standing.

Today's words

Caught up on a puzzle from probably Tuesday, which brought me these:

curlew /ˈkər-(ˌ)lü, ˈkərl-(ˌ)yü/ - any of various largely brownish chiefly migratory birds (especially genus Numenius) having long legs and a long slender down-curved bill and related to the sandpipers and snipes

Snipe hunt, anyone?

dhow /ˈdau̇/ - an Arab lateen-rigged boat usually having a long overhang forward, a high poop, and a low waist

There appears to be a joke or three in there trying to get out, not to mention a really old memory . . . 

glyptic /ˈglip-tik/ - the art or process of carving or engraving especially on gems

Not to be cryptic while I stare at the triptych . . . 

rick /rik/ - 1. a stack (as of hay) in the open air 2. a pile of material (such as cordwood) split from short logs

I've seen plenty of these, of both definitions - even helped make the latter - but never had this word for them.

I think this is the first time one of these puzzles has brought me four new words. This puzzle also had another word with which I was mildly familiar:

hurling /ˈhər-liŋ/ - an Irish game resembling field hockey played between two teams of 15 players each

I was a little familiar with this word from its similarity with lacrosse (in addition to field hockey). That's completely different from sort of hurling that I'd associate with a high poop.

Today's word

flat-hat /FLAT-hat/ - to fly low in an airplane in a reckless manner : hedgehop

Remembered this because of a post on "calumny" on the Merriam Webster site

It's worth my time to revisit, especially today.

I am willing to love in spite of pain . . .

. . . because this is how Jesus loves me.

Last year I knew one person

This year I knew a couple dozen.

That was nice.

But it didn't begin to make up for the absence of the one.

That wouldn't have been so bad if the cutoff hadn't been so abrupt and unexplained.

Self-confirming conclusions

There are decisions we reach about people in our minds that, once formed, become the lens through which we see them. There will always be evidence to support these conclusions, so our opinion of them finds never-ending validation.

A minority MLB umpire is saying that an MLB executive decided, decades ago when they were in adversarial roles in an in-game situation, that the ump was seeking to draw attention to himself. Many years later, this observation has been part of the umpire's annual evaluation by the executive. If you believe something like this about a person, they will probably never be able to convince you that you're mistaken.

But the individual being judged can also have a blind spot about whether there is any truth in the accusation, and needs to have an honest motivation to do what they can about it, even knowing that there is likely no way they'll ever be able to convince the person judging them of what they have learned and changed about themselves.

Today's words

dithyramb /DITH-ih-ram/ - 1. a usually short poem in an inspired wild irregular strain 2. a statement or writing in an exalted or enthusiastic vein

sericeous /suh-RISH-us/ - covered with fine silky hair

A pair of new words of the day. 

Thank you, God

For Saturday, when we laid to rest a dear brother and then I was able to minister in music again with an old friend.

For a restful Sunday.

But mostly, this morning, for one true friend who cares what's on my mind.

A very tangled web

Ironically, one of my mother's favorite expressions was from a Sir Walter Scott poem: "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive." I could spend a few paragraphs on the first word of this post, but it really isn't at all about mom. Last night I was awake a considerable period of time after realizing the ongoing presence of a quite complicated web in my life. It's no wonder that Dayton Unbound uses the Mary, Undoer of Knots devotion. I think I need to pray that novena.

The Five Keys to spiritual freedom are faith and repentance (which form one key, based on the Gospel: repent and believe), forgiveness, renunciation, authority, and the Father's blessing. I find myself struggling with several of them in an area which either the Holy Spirit or my mind brought to my attention during the night. I have been feeling resentment toward a couple people - maybe several, now that I think about it. And resentment means there is unforgiveness present, but not always toward the person you resent. Sometimes it can be unforgiveness toward another person who is more responsible for your resentment, but it can also be tied up with something of which we need to repent. In this case, I feel I need to repent of a decades-old lie. The genesis of this untruth was related to a sin of which I have already repented. The lie itself was not of my making, but I was the one to figure it out and am the only one involved who seems to know that it is an untruth. But to repent of something means turning away from it, and I must not turn away from this lie, or others will bear far worse hurt than I do. So I must find a way to forgive the others who were involved in this lie to which I must adhere, not merely for their involvement in the original untruth, but for my current status as someone who is dishonest, which I detest.

It seems like a situation for a therapist, but I have been down that road multiple times already, and I'm already maintaining the path upon which we have agreed. 

If you're my friend, dear reader, I would find it most helpful if you could find a way to let me know that you are praying for me in this. I feel so alone with it, and the person to whom I would otherwise turn is a part of this web, and discussion with that person on this topic has repeatedly proven unhelpful. 

Another fine distinction

At our Tuesday prayer group, we usually read the gospel for the coming Sunday. I carry the RSV translation, but the lectionary uses the NAB. Occasionally there's a wording difference which makes for an interesting insight. This weekend, we're going to hear the conclusion of Jesus' instructions to the apostles before He sends them out to prepare His way. Among the last verses is the quote, as per the NAB: Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me. But the RSV renders it as whoever receives you, receives me.

The verb difference is subtle, but I think it's worth thinking about.

Today's word

tristful /TRIST-ful/ - sad, melancholy

This quotation cited in the article has felt true for me, at least at times, in my life: "I've been dreading the moment I wake. Waking is a tristful business for the man who reflects." — Howard Jacobson, The Independent (London), 27 Nov. 2010

But this underscores something that Neal Lozano talks about in his Unbound videos: even though our society places a high value on introspection, it is actually a negative thing. It transfers our attention from God's abundant love for us onto ourselves. That isn't to say we shouldn't be self-aware, but being introspective puts too much emphasis on ourselves, and the quote above illustrates exactly what's wrong with that.

It's a fine distinction, but an important one. 

Today's word

scapegrace /SKAYP-grayss/ - an incorrigible rascal

I recognized this word's etymology on sight, even though I think I'd never encountered it before. The article doesn't go into the Levitical origins of scapegoat, but since grace is an equally biblical concept, this term makes perfect sense.

It seems that I often do battle against the temptation to become one of these. I struggle to believe that God is real, and that what He wants for me is better than what I might otherwise want. Ultimately, I keep finding that my faith in God is just strong enough to keep me from turning to the lower road. That really keeps coming down to the baptismal promises: renouncing Satan and all his works and all his empty promises, and believing in God the Father, the Son, and the Spirit at work through the Church.

Well, that was no fun . . .

Kept an eye on the weather radar last night for the early rain to pass, then started off for what I intended to be a four-mile run. But I just couldn't seem to keep running. First walking break happened after running up the first hill, then stopped for a while under a tree while it rained for a few minutes - guess I should have checked that radar more closely. Thereafter, it seems like I was able to run about a half mile at a time before needing to walk for a bit, for the remainder of what ended up being a 4.5 mile outing. As I was preparing to shower, I noticed I hadn't taken my meds yesterday morning, including my bp pill. I wonder if that might have affected my performance?

But the real fun started after I was in bed (ostensibly) for the night. In my dream, my wife's brother-in-law and I were on our way to Johnny Carson's house for a film screening. On the way, he observed that his wife tended to under dress for such occasions. We got there and he went in, but I hung out in the driveway for a minute. The band arrived and started to make their way in around me, as I apologized for not being able to get out of their way more effectively because of the cramp in my foot. My wife and sister-in-law soon arrived, having driven separately from us, and I hugged them both and observed to my SIL in particular that she looked very nice, contrary to her husband's concerns. They started to make their way in, but I wanted to wait until my cramp subsided. My wife's BIL came back out with a bottle of water. There was an African American woman going in, carrying a water bottle, so I took the bottle from my wife's BIL and drank about half of it while she looked on, after which she got on my case for taking her water. It seems that her empty water bottle was for some other purpose (in my dream she told me what it was, and it made sense, but I don't remember now). I apologized and explained my urgent need for hydration, and offered to go get her a new bottle of water. About this time, that foot cramp finally woke me up.

It was the first of about four wake-ups during the night from cramps. I'm not so sure about this triathlon, but I really want to do this, once.