stories

"I will tell you something about stories,
[he said]
They aren't just for entertainment.
Don't be fooled
They are all we have, you see,
all we have to fight off illness and death.
You don't have anything
if you don't have the stories.
Their evil is mighty
but it can't stand up to our stories.
So they try to destroy the stories
let the stories be confused or forgotten
They would like that
They would be happy
Because we would be defenseless then...

...there is life here for the people,
And in the belly of this story
the rituals and the ceremony
are still growing."

Leslie Marmon Silko, Ceremony.

update

Haven't felt much like writing since Grandad, but here's a brief rundown on what's happened:

- had guts ripped out by Italian soccer team (or more correctly, the referee) in the world cup.
- new Counting Crows live album (New Amsterdam). lazy, lazy men. four studio albums, one best of and two (official, general release) live albums. that's almost as much unoriginal material as original. most bands wouldn't get away with that.
- started working on some nonviolence stuff including a possible collaborative event with urban seed.
- u2 looks like November 18, but still not "officially" confirmed.
- still waiting for bub, but could be any day or time, even though we're only 34 weeks.

will write more when I feel like it.

"Advice to writers: Sometimes you just have to stop writing. Even before you begin."
-- Stanislaw J. Lec (1909 - 1966), "Unkempt Thoughts"

Grandad

My Grandad died at 7 am last Thursday. Don't really want to blog about it at this stage, but I do want to mark the event, so I'll just tell one story.

The last time I spent a significant time with my Grandad was a little over two years ago when, while we were living at Whitley, we took him to the zoo. I think it was the first time he'd been to the zoo. I pushed him around in his wheelchair, which meant we got to experience it all together.

We arrived at the otter enclosure, and as he looked at the little animals scampering around, he thought at first that they were stoats. He turned to me and said, "Do you know the difference between a weasel and a stoat?" I confessed I didn't know, but being well aware of how widely read he was I anticipated a lesson in the intricacies of the animal kingdom.

"Well," he said, "a weasel is weasily distinguished, because a stoat is stoatally different."

why is it so?

Why is it that there is not one op shop on the entire Mornington Peninsula that does not stock a copy of Michael Crichton's Prey?

And what kind of sick puppy is going around removing one piece from every single jigsaw puzzle in those same op shops?

rosebud in pictures

defining cromulent

Everything's coming up Milhouse!

Like these, for example.

Ever wondered what a speedhole is, or how much is 40 rods to the hogshead? You will now.

in the zone

I've never been so...great.

Not happy.

Not perfect.

Just...right.

I don't even mean it just in terms of how I feel. I mean, mostly it's a feeling, but it's more than that. It's a rightness with the world...with me.

I've been saying recently that the goal of life isn't happiness, it's fulfillment. Happiness comes and goes, and it's great while it lasts, but it never does last. That's why I don't want to rely on feelings - feelings are fleeting. But this feeling, this sense...it lasts. And it has lasted. And it goes deep. It's awesome.

I can only describe it as like being in the zone.

I'm in the zone. Like I'm right where God wants me to be. Or maybe like I'm acknowledging that where I am is where God wants me to be. Not a God-imposed place...just a God-intended place. A me-living-me place. Or maybe I'm just where I am, and finally ok with that.

And now I'm looking forward to a break. A well-deserved break. A chance to reflect on where I am. Where I've come from. Where I'm going. Expand my now, as Owen says. Hooray for large, even enormous, nows.

I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am...fine
I am fine.