the journey home..

"they" read this at funerals:

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 09:30:37 -0500

there's a season for everything,....
a time for every matter:....

there's a time to be born,
and there most certainly is a time to die.

apparently the fall of 2009 is the time to die.

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and this will happen again; will i actually change?

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 14:03:30 -0500

the death of an acquaintance is peculiar.
mostly, i feel regret for the actions i often display around people i barely know.
sometimes, when seeing one in passing, i will simply ignore them, not to disturb them nor i. i choose for them how they'd like me to interact with them.
yet, i believe in my heart and soul that small interactions filled with love have the capability to change a whole day.
so, why?
no longer do i want to be paralysed by awkwardness. it has taken a hold on me for too long. it's inhibited me from creating relationships in numerous situations, or, at the "least", acknowledging the importance of every individual i encounter, that passes through my life. giving dignity by acknowledgement, and love and peace, because "we can't know everyone deeply yet"

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i'm going to say it,

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 18:03:29 -0400

i'm not happy.

but happiness was never God's plan for me,
it was redemption

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i know quoting lyrics shouldn`t qualify as a blog post..

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 01:36:22 -0400

if we can call them friends then we can call them on their telephones
and they won't pretend that they're too busy or that they're not alone
and if we can call them friends then we can call
holler at them down these hallowed halls
just don't let the human factor fail to be a factor
at all
-------
and we were tired of being mild
we were so tired of being mild
and we were tired...

i know we're going to meet some day
in the crumbled financial institutions of this land
there will be tables and chairs
there'll be pony rides and dancing bears
there'll even be a band
cause listen, after the fall there will be no more countries
no currencies at all, we're gonna live on our wits
we're gonna throw away survival kits,
trade butterfly-knives for adderal
and that's not all
ooh-ooh, there will be snacks there will
there will be snacks, there will be snacks.
--------
so don't you,
don't you worry
about the atmosphere.

---------

andrew bird is a brilliant lyricist.
is that the right word? i almost wrote "write" word, like a bad pun.

i love puns, knock knock jokes, and free chocolate soy milk.
oh, and my housemate makes great cookies.

hi, my name's naomi and i'm still figuring out [life after post-secondary education].
my ties are still tight there, though; i'm dating someone still in college and teaching at my alma mater's inter-varsity group.

speaking of which.... tell me, why shouldn't we judge people [lest we be judged]? i'm trying to figure that out.
i certainly don't feel qualified for this.

and i certainly don't feel certain about all of [this] everyday, you know, the whole, Jesus Christ, God, Holy Spirit thing. i mean, i'm sure,but Jesus, i feel like i'm struggling here. i know your Goodness exists, and actually, you are only Good. sometimes i struggle to feel your love completely surround me.
but i know your truth exists in the scripture of Matthew 7:1-6 and most of scripture and that there are lessons worth teaching, and that every Bible story points to you, teaches about youuu, you, you, you're everything and in everything and with everything in this constant flow

i learn so much about this Truth and Goodness from our phone calls i take notes from, in pencil and in pen, point form and scribbles, i apologize for the delay in response, i need to get it all down, so i don't forget. so the Truth and Goodness can go deep down into my soul and brain and being.

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company with you and the saints

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 03:10:35 -0400

Another mug of coffee emptied,
and another day wishing it was spent mostly in bed.
Ice cream attempts failed,
but you fail to forget me.
Moping, i find a cornerstore, to buy a popsicle,
reach into my pocket looking for three quarters
and in my hand, appears

You: on a broken chain, assumed lost
a wooden Coptic cross,
Mother Teresa of Calcutta, and
Saint Anthony.

You remind me: i have company with you and the saints.

Today i am from the dust
and will turn to
dust again.

Today i feel ve
ry alone but am not
alone.

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this needs to be blogged.

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Sun, 17 May 2009 16:48:34 -0400

I found this poem in a journal I haven't started yet. my guess was it was written late 2008/early 2009.

i can ask questions like, Lord, why would you make us suffer? or continue to shift human blame onto God in other ways. i can make myself more important or less important. when i am less i am more open, free to the direction of the wind. not constrained by material and wordly things. i long to be following freely, i want to give up my plans and let God take me somewhere unreal and unexpected. i must let go. i must.

egypt is what i am asking for here.
cosmic. wonderful. blessed.

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stigma & success in a society of messed-up values..

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Wed, 06 May 2009 00:07:39 -0400

Maybe some of you know that I work in long term, high level, supportive housing for folks who are diagnosed with schizophrenia. imagine 3 row-house with the insides knocked down, 21 single-occupancy rooms, a giant kitchen & a pile of living rooms... and staff 24/7. if you're familiar with Jean Vanier's stuff, we're inspired by his approach to loving people in the margins.

my job is to hang out with residents, support them, cook lunch & dinner, do "informal counselling", "conflict resolution", "crisis intervention"... a bunch of words meaning I'm just there, walking alongside these fellow humans.

it ends up fuelling me with a lot of spiritual nourishment and deep reflection-- very often about consumerism and society.

I was working a night shift last week, having a conversation with a woman who lives not only with schizophrenia but with depression, too.. she started off by stopping me as I walked by, "Hey, Naomi.. what have you learned about mental health working here?"

it kinda felt like a quiz, but I stuttered out an answer, something like, "Well, you know, sure I've learned about diagnoses and medications and other medical things... but I'm far more concerned about the stigma you guys face, the discrimation and oppression from structures, like hospitals and government policy, and from people in society"...

society.
We talked about society. being a societal misfit. & how I love working there because I, too, feel like a societal misfit- I've never felt like I've fit in (which is a thing to be celebrated!). Together, we rejected the idealistic notion of "integrating the mentally ill into society"-- when really, how could I promote that when I don't even want to be integrated myself into a society full of misled values, materialism, consumerism, disregard for the marginalized, self-obsessedness, and so on...

this lead to talking about SUCCESS. she just asked me, again, she's so straight, "Naomi. how do you define success?" & I immediately thought of Jean Vanier (read Becoming Human if you haven't..!!!), and I said,
it's loving people. being compassionate. following your heart. doing what's right.
She'd been fed for so long that since she can't work, she isn't successful. I tried to tell her "no".
we need to stand up against those bullshit ideals.

She went on to say she NEEDED God to get into the bathtub. She trusted God so much that He could help her- and she got in there. It's SO significant. I said that was wonderful, because so many don't acknowledge God & attempt to be strong by themselves. She said, "I don't have a choice".
How beautiful. How amazing, to be in the juxtaposition, of needing God's help SO bad she felt she didn't have another choice.
Now THAT'S success.
why I think it's success is well explained in these two quotes:

"In contemplation we learn to trust God precisely because we need him" - Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove
"the Kingdom of God is for the weak; it's more accessible for those with nothing to lose" -my friend Jess paraphrasing Jesus.

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june + july!

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 23:15:02 -0400

دير القديس سمعان الخراز . عزبة الذبالين. منشاة ناصر. القاهرة. مصر

will be my home for five weeks --- saint samaan the tanner monastery, mansheat nasser, garbage village, cairo.

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endings [or maybe, beginnings]

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 23:54:25 -0400

i've been in school since i was three, but in three days i will be done school. (for i don't know how long).

there's a lot of things i will miss about university, a lot of things learned.
i'm making a running list of these things, random memories, comments, whatever.

- georgia is my favourite font to write essays in.
- "apa owl" is probably the phrase i have googled the most in the past four years.
- the library is a great place to spend any night of the weekend. friday & saturday nights can often be reserved for group work, essay writing, and for finding great new songs on hypemachine in the library
- i can be fabulous friends with people i have very little in common with and very much in common with (and everything in between).
- eating pizza, talking to a friend on the phone & heading to the library at 8:30pm after church can feel like an epiphany, and can be very spiritual.

- all-nighters are instantly associated with cold hands
- being notorious for sleeping in for class, group meetings, placement, the list goes on

- the things associated with school most meaningful are often not classes itself. i'm referencing my involvement with ryerson inter-varsity christian fellowship... totally changed my life every week, every new friend, every new epiphany jesus showed me.

- it is very possible to get A's without A effort.

-social work professors are the most compassionate and most challenging.

-some school friends last for 4 days, some for 4 years. all are valuable and important.

- my favourite essay ever written was not for my major. it was for an english class, called "the art of writing life". it was

The Sunset Tree

on the mountain goats album, the sunset tree. it was entered into an english essay contest (i didn't win). it's posted in this blog somewhere.

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I didn't ask to be born.

nobody@vox.com(naomi) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 19:22:30 -0400

Maybe you know this kind of crying; mostly silent and a constant flow of warm tears.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday, my most important holiday (yet I couldn't find my way to a church at all during Holy Week). I was on a greyhound bus toward Kitchener, to meet my family for breakfast at the Golden Griddle, followed by an Easter dinner at Grandma's. I had (and have) a lot of homework to do in a short period of time and it probably would have been wise to do some on the bus ride. Instead, I decided to catch up on a couple weeks' of my favourite podcast, This American Life.

I didn't know I would receive a picture so clear of redemption that ended up being so suitable for the occasion.

The episode I listened to was #209; Didn't Ask to Be Born, originally broadcasted seven years ago. Both acts were phenomenal, but it's the second one that really got that flow of warmth down my cheeks going.

Act Two.
Brent Runyon tells the story of the day in eighth grade that he set himself on fire ... and what led to that. He wasn't a loner, he had friends, his mother was a teacher, his parents took an interest in his life. This is an excerpt from his memoir, called The Burn Journals.

Oh the punishment being a teenager can be. I was so sharply reminded of my own adolescence, and how it is so often a miracle young women and men leave those years alive, myself included.

An excerpt I found from a journal of mine, dated April 2003:

So while I was on the field trip I came to the conclusion to what I truly want to do for the rest of my life is sleep forever. And another depressing thought- You know how when a teenager dies, the parent usually says "S/He wasn't done with life", etc. Well today I feel as if I'm done with life. I just can't see a future in my life, and all the goals I might have, aren't there anymore. I feel as I won't be able to accomplish in my life, so what is there to live for? What's the use of going on? I'm not scared of death at all, I'm almost excited for it? I'm excited for it in both good and bad ways. And I really, really, really don't mean an that in a selfish way. I would never take my own life though. I just feel as I don't deserve to live anymore... I feel as I shouldn't be living anymore. But there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.

The expression of no motivation for living expressed in Brent Runyon's narrative (an excerpt from his memoir) was so reminiscent of feelings I knew so well as a young teenager. I don't feel this way today, but how could I know that then, that I would ever get out of it? It feels like an inescapable black void, and the way out is very unclear. How do you communicate hope to someone who is hopeless? To just inconsequentially bring great harm to yourself because it's one of the only things that feel right. I know that feeling.

But also, I know the redemption of Christ.
To know he took the power out of death yesterday,
& every day.
To know that he showed me the way out of the black void,
and continues to do so when it feels like I'm finding myself there again.
To know that Jesus too felt afraid, unsure of the path ahead,
he knew, that living in this world brings deep difficulty
but still proclaimed,
"Don't be afraid! I have overcome the world!"

Happy Easter.

(I've just ordered this from the library, by the way)

The Burn Journals

Brent Runyon

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