Tom Waits reading Charles Bukowski's Nirvana
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVVzCURucaA#
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Long time no write...
I have been "home" now a little over 2 months. Traveling like crazy since i have been back, work, non-work... It is a strange place in life to be. Wonderful, hard, strange. These last few months have been trying. I have spent so much time worrying about what is next, then i realized, life. Life is next. It is now. It is all around. We have a one hundred percent chance of dying, but living is up to us. I don't want to die with my last thought being, "i wish i lived more than 60% of the time." (or even 98% of the time)
I am approaching a month of being gone from nashville. It seems like this summer is flying by, yet as I pause for a moment, it has been such a wonderful one. The list of things done (in no particular order)
1. Caving (with a great woman and my dog- maybe the dog wasn't such a good idea)
2.Hang Gliding (always a pleasure)
3. Getting back into the climbing gym
4. Going sea kayaking (with an incredible man and some pretty fantastic sea lions)
5. Hiking
6. Frisbee
7. Slacklining
8. Learning how to do a front hand spring
9. Shows (for those of you who don't know i am back on the road with Miss Wilson)
10. Working at the Local Taco (great food, better margaritas)
11. Doing video with Waymore's Outlaws
12. Going jet skiing with my mom
13. Reading
14. Painting
15. Friggin' loving today
I know that there is so much more that has been going on, but life is still moving and i need some sleep to prepare for tomorrow.
be still.
be loved.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
H.A.T.E.
High Altitude Tourettes Experience better known as HATE or skiing in the alps. living in these mountains, it is something you have to do at least once... or only once. hahahaha. i actually held my own, until i didn't understand the swiss hill rating system. um. well. i am walking again.
i am up to my ears in reading right now. Beautiful. i can't get over it. or through it apparently. but bit by bit, i am forming thoughts about where my life shall lead next.
spring has arrived. the flowers are beginning to bloom. color everywhere. the white is subsiding and life is new. how i have longed for warm weather. come quickly!!!
just a few thoughts for now. more to come.
be still. be loved.
i am up to my ears in reading right now. Beautiful. i can't get over it. or through it apparently. but bit by bit, i am forming thoughts about where my life shall lead next.
spring has arrived. the flowers are beginning to bloom. color everywhere. the white is subsiding and life is new. how i have longed for warm weather. come quickly!!!
just a few thoughts for now. more to come.
be still. be loved.
Monday, March 9, 2009
far and near and everywhere in between...
Learn to teach. Follow to lead. Live to show the Way. Love. just love.
Months pass. The wonderings begin. where to next? Oh how i miss so many at home and oh how i will miss those here. My head has been spinning with thoughts, frustrations, questions. We stop growing, we stop learning, we stop living when we stop asking questions.
Life is a curious thing. So filled with ugliness and beauty, sorrow and joy, weeping and laughter. we live in the tension. we live in the in between. it is in the valley between the mountains where things grow. Here, wine grapes. I live at one end of the Rhone Valley. Known for its red wine... this is a beautiful thing. but that is besides the point. the point is this: today i went for a walk. the mountains were covered with snow filled clouds. but the valley shown magnificently clear. i was amazed at how green the grass in the valley shone, spring is near. the sign of new life. the sign of hope. i continued walking to the small, and by small i mean tiny church here in Huemoz. Out in the courtyard is a swing set with two seats that fling you graciously closer to the heavens. i sat on the taller one and in a burst of laughter and song, i sang. loud. in fact another girl staying at L'abri who is from Romania walked by and laughed along with me. it is the good life. it is a good life. life, in its essence is good.
my ponderings continue. caught somewhere between faith and doubt, i am alive. i am well.
be still. be loved.
Months pass. The wonderings begin. where to next? Oh how i miss so many at home and oh how i will miss those here. My head has been spinning with thoughts, frustrations, questions. We stop growing, we stop learning, we stop living when we stop asking questions.
Life is a curious thing. So filled with ugliness and beauty, sorrow and joy, weeping and laughter. we live in the tension. we live in the in between. it is in the valley between the mountains where things grow. Here, wine grapes. I live at one end of the Rhone Valley. Known for its red wine... this is a beautiful thing. but that is besides the point. the point is this: today i went for a walk. the mountains were covered with snow filled clouds. but the valley shown magnificently clear. i was amazed at how green the grass in the valley shone, spring is near. the sign of new life. the sign of hope. i continued walking to the small, and by small i mean tiny church here in Huemoz. Out in the courtyard is a swing set with two seats that fling you graciously closer to the heavens. i sat on the taller one and in a burst of laughter and song, i sang. loud. in fact another girl staying at L'abri who is from Romania walked by and laughed along with me. it is the good life. it is a good life. life, in its essence is good.
my ponderings continue. caught somewhere between faith and doubt, i am alive. i am well.
be still. be loved.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
"history, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, however, if faced with courage, need not be lived again." maya angelou
the snow lay softly on the mountains this morning. it has snowed much in these last few days. i spent all of yesterday shoveling snow. i even conned some local kids to shovel with me by saying that if they shoveled one of the walks they could use the snow for a fort. i love kids. ha. my bones are sore this morning. i am tired, but alive and well.
i am learning so much about growing and moving forward. moving on. moving up. growing endlessly toward heaven blue skies. i think that i have such a fondness for mountains because they stretch themselves, longing so much for the sky that the erupt from the ground, contradicting gravity and silently conversing with the stars they succeed at the impossible.
living in a house with 27 other people (give or take 1-5 people passing through at a time) makes life very interesting. everyone knows your arguments, your sadness, your laughter, your socks. i came with 14 pair of socks and last time i checked, 6 are accounted for. there are 2 functioning showers, 4 functioning toilets, 1 kitchen, mismatched plates, mugs and silverware... we share everything from our lives and sorrows to our beds, clothes, snow pants, songs and absurd stories. there is rarely, if ever, silence in the house. there is this hodge podge of beliefs, styles and dreams. it is a mosaic. it is as beautiful as stained glass and can be as fragile too. i am amazed every day at my own selfishness living with this many other souls. i feel old. i feel young. i feel free.
life is meant to be lived moment by moment. drinking in all of it. soaking it 'til our bones are full of it's magic and wonder. i cannot change the things that have been. i cannot make them any different, but i do not have to keep living in that place. the pheonix dies in the fire then rises from the ash. stoke this fire then i will burn this fortress down. i will fly. i am.
be still.
be loved.
the snow lay softly on the mountains this morning. it has snowed much in these last few days. i spent all of yesterday shoveling snow. i even conned some local kids to shovel with me by saying that if they shoveled one of the walks they could use the snow for a fort. i love kids. ha. my bones are sore this morning. i am tired, but alive and well.
i am learning so much about growing and moving forward. moving on. moving up. growing endlessly toward heaven blue skies. i think that i have such a fondness for mountains because they stretch themselves, longing so much for the sky that the erupt from the ground, contradicting gravity and silently conversing with the stars they succeed at the impossible.
living in a house with 27 other people (give or take 1-5 people passing through at a time) makes life very interesting. everyone knows your arguments, your sadness, your laughter, your socks. i came with 14 pair of socks and last time i checked, 6 are accounted for. there are 2 functioning showers, 4 functioning toilets, 1 kitchen, mismatched plates, mugs and silverware... we share everything from our lives and sorrows to our beds, clothes, snow pants, songs and absurd stories. there is rarely, if ever, silence in the house. there is this hodge podge of beliefs, styles and dreams. it is a mosaic. it is as beautiful as stained glass and can be as fragile too. i am amazed every day at my own selfishness living with this many other souls. i feel old. i feel young. i feel free.
life is meant to be lived moment by moment. drinking in all of it. soaking it 'til our bones are full of it's magic and wonder. i cannot change the things that have been. i cannot make them any different, but i do not have to keep living in that place. the pheonix dies in the fire then rises from the ash. stoke this fire then i will burn this fortress down. i will fly. i am.
be still.
be loved.
Monday, February 16, 2009
questions...
it is the question beneath the questions beneath the questions. it is the question that drives us to study theology, philosophy, science, art, anything really... we ask the greater questions of life and death, God and pain because, when it boils down to it, we want to know one thing... "do you love me? (am i even loveable?) then this question poses others like: why? why not? what is this pounding in my soul? we seek truth, we seek God (or even to know the existence of God) because we truly just want to know if we are loved. it is all we hope for. all we want is for someone to love us.
I have been decompressing my image of God over these last few years and in the silence i have found, to quote a song, that "a voice rises within me saying hold on my child, i'll give you strength, i'll give you hope, just stay a little while. i believe in the sun even when it is not shining and i believe in God, even when there's no one there."
today was a hard day. i long for the familiar. to be in the company of people who know me, know me well. to sit and read with my dog at my feet. to have coffee with my dad, sit in the kitchen with my mom, play catch with my sister... the comforts of home.
i sat in a chapel today weeping. i sang with a broken voice through the tears as i looked back on the life i have had. it has been anything but orderly, nothing like i planned it to be, far from what i had originally hoped. yet i am not disappointed. i am glad at who i am. to feel pain deeply is to enter into a beautifully broken world, to see colors brighter than before, to cry and laugh and feel all of it. to sit in a tiny church in the swiss alps and know that i am loved... this is goodness.
my roommate from england told me this today and i cling to her words, "this day will pass annie, and don't forget that you are lovely through all of this, it's beautiful to be broken."
ask.
be still.
be loved.
I have been decompressing my image of God over these last few years and in the silence i have found, to quote a song, that "a voice rises within me saying hold on my child, i'll give you strength, i'll give you hope, just stay a little while. i believe in the sun even when it is not shining and i believe in God, even when there's no one there."
today was a hard day. i long for the familiar. to be in the company of people who know me, know me well. to sit and read with my dog at my feet. to have coffee with my dad, sit in the kitchen with my mom, play catch with my sister... the comforts of home.
i sat in a chapel today weeping. i sang with a broken voice through the tears as i looked back on the life i have had. it has been anything but orderly, nothing like i planned it to be, far from what i had originally hoped. yet i am not disappointed. i am glad at who i am. to feel pain deeply is to enter into a beautifully broken world, to see colors brighter than before, to cry and laugh and feel all of it. to sit in a tiny church in the swiss alps and know that i am loved... this is goodness.
my roommate from england told me this today and i cling to her words, "this day will pass annie, and don't forget that you are lovely through all of this, it's beautiful to be broken."
ask.
be still.
be loved.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Toliet seats and Rilke's grave adventure
...so we go on living. one breath at a time. one heart beat, then the next. to steal a thought from Mary Karr, the clock ticks, "now, now." there is urgency with every step, a hurriedness to every bite. then i woke to that awful sensation. and my mind said in a voice resembling Ralph from the simpson's, "Oh no! my mouth tastes like burning." a few hours later, i emerged from the stale cold bathroom, pepto pink tiles lining the walls seemed a like a sunrise next to what was emitting itself from my own being. no nausea, just puke. 2 days of puke.
today was our day off. Tim and i had planned to go to a town about an hour or 2 away to visit the poet Rainer Maria Rilke's grave. ( i inserted Early Spring one of his poem's below) such beauty to his work, such insight into a world that is so beautifully broken with potential. well, thanks to my late night rendezvoux with le toilet, plans had to be changed. we instead made a winter world in my bunk, complete with poetry and drawn pictures of the grave yard. it was a beautiful day, one of which i slept much away. to be ill and wrapped in the warm arms of a poem seems just like the stillness my soul was searching for this week.
i mentioned in my last blog that i had received some hard news. the funny thing is, i am so happy it came. i am so glad that it is finally done. that though it may have initially been hard, it is good. we watched a movie last night called "the choosen" about 2 jewish teenagers who become friends. the hasidic one's father tells him towards the end of the movie that he spent much of their time together in silence because it was in the silence that he learned how to connect his head and his heart. the son learned the great pain and loneliness of the world, while at the same time learning the great joy and compassion or it as well. the father asks, "was i wrong to teach in this way? was i not a good father? i do not know." i think that was such a beautiful image of God, we think that He is cold, or not there, but in His silence He is loving us more than we could ever know and teaching us how to use that love.
i am learning. it is good. it is silent, but for that i am thankful.
be still. be loved.
Early Spring
today was our day off. Tim and i had planned to go to a town about an hour or 2 away to visit the poet Rainer Maria Rilke's grave. ( i inserted Early Spring one of his poem's below) such beauty to his work, such insight into a world that is so beautifully broken with potential. well, thanks to my late night rendezvoux with le toilet, plans had to be changed. we instead made a winter world in my bunk, complete with poetry and drawn pictures of the grave yard. it was a beautiful day, one of which i slept much away. to be ill and wrapped in the warm arms of a poem seems just like the stillness my soul was searching for this week.
i mentioned in my last blog that i had received some hard news. the funny thing is, i am so happy it came. i am so glad that it is finally done. that though it may have initially been hard, it is good. we watched a movie last night called "the choosen" about 2 jewish teenagers who become friends. the hasidic one's father tells him towards the end of the movie that he spent much of their time together in silence because it was in the silence that he learned how to connect his head and his heart. the son learned the great pain and loneliness of the world, while at the same time learning the great joy and compassion or it as well. the father asks, "was i wrong to teach in this way? was i not a good father? i do not know." i think that was such a beautiful image of God, we think that He is cold, or not there, but in His silence He is loving us more than we could ever know and teaching us how to use that love.
i am learning. it is good. it is silent, but for that i am thankful.
be still. be loved.
Early Spring
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
turkish baths
There is an interesting moment in life when it all seems too much. When the weight seems like it will surely break not only your back, but every last bone in your body... when the pain of growth seems more ominous than the static of numbing the heart. when you stare numbly into the mountainside, hoping that for a moment, it would come alive and embrace you the way your mother did when you scrapped you knee or fought with a playground friend. there is a tenderness here in these overgrown hills. a dangerous safety. for the first time in a long time i have been able to be still and face the demons i ran from for so long. there is nothing more frightening and freeing than the ability to stand in the midst of my demons and face the reality that the worst demon might just be myself. a friend once said that bitterness is the poison that we drink and wait for the other person to die. i have realized the gravity of my own selfishness, and the pain of my past. at moments it seems too much, but then a song rises in the air, mingling with the clouds, dancing until they become one. it is a beautiful moment, somewhere in the in-between.
i am so thankful to be here. so thankful to wake up each morning. so proud that i am taking very hard steps to become the kind of woman i hope to be. i love life. i love simplicity. i love walking up and up and up... until the horizon seems so close and so far all at once.
we wake up each day, eat breakfast, read books, clean, discuss, shovel snow, make snowmen / angels, dance, sing, laugh much, cry often....
the chalet i am living in was once a home for kids with physical disabilities and disorders, it was a place of healing and care, outside of its inhabitants, not much has changed.
today i went to the turkish baths near by with two of the guys here, Thomas, a worker here and Timmy Time, a rock star organic farmer from Washington state. We spent the day swimming under a canopy of mountainous skies, steam baths, saunas... and avoiding old men in speedos (a near impossible task). it was a really refreshing day, much needed for my body and soul (sometime i may write about the hike we took the other day, which ended with us not being able to find a path down and using a ski hill complete with trudging through 4 feet of snow for about a 1000 ft drop... but that's for another day). My favorite part of the day was going into the turkish baths... there was a men's, women's and co-ed. the co-ed was packed, don't know about the men's, but the women's was completely empty. it was a room filled floor to ceiling with white tiles, only the ceiling had pin hole lights in in, looking like the stars were my only companions. i danced in the mist of the heat and starlight. liberation. freedom. my soul is at ease. i got some pretty hard news today, but honestly, i could not be more at peace with my soul and the life i have.
i love you all, and miss so many. if only my arms could stretch continents. for now i keep you in my heart, on my mind and through my prayers.
be still.
i am so thankful to be here. so thankful to wake up each morning. so proud that i am taking very hard steps to become the kind of woman i hope to be. i love life. i love simplicity. i love walking up and up and up... until the horizon seems so close and so far all at once.
we wake up each day, eat breakfast, read books, clean, discuss, shovel snow, make snowmen / angels, dance, sing, laugh much, cry often....
the chalet i am living in was once a home for kids with physical disabilities and disorders, it was a place of healing and care, outside of its inhabitants, not much has changed.
today i went to the turkish baths near by with two of the guys here, Thomas, a worker here and Timmy Time, a rock star organic farmer from Washington state. We spent the day swimming under a canopy of mountainous skies, steam baths, saunas... and avoiding old men in speedos (a near impossible task). it was a really refreshing day, much needed for my body and soul (sometime i may write about the hike we took the other day, which ended with us not being able to find a path down and using a ski hill complete with trudging through 4 feet of snow for about a 1000 ft drop... but that's for another day). My favorite part of the day was going into the turkish baths... there was a men's, women's and co-ed. the co-ed was packed, don't know about the men's, but the women's was completely empty. it was a room filled floor to ceiling with white tiles, only the ceiling had pin hole lights in in, looking like the stars were my only companions. i danced in the mist of the heat and starlight. liberation. freedom. my soul is at ease. i got some pretty hard news today, but honestly, i could not be more at peace with my soul and the life i have.
i love you all, and miss so many. if only my arms could stretch continents. for now i keep you in my heart, on my mind and through my prayers.
be still.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
the swiss know how to make mountains...
i have debated writing a new blog many a time, but the simple fact of the matter is i don't know where to start. what is one to say when they wake up every morning to the most beautiful sight they have ever seen? when the sun breaks over the mountains during breakfast and the lake of fog in the valley below glows a soft pink? when the snow smells sweet and looks like icing spread thick over a sky of mountains? when the red wine is served mulled and warm? when the smell of homemade bread warms the air just before every meal? when the chocolate has the texture of melted butter in your mouth? where to start i ask?
i have been so overwhelmed this week. wrapped in beauty and books. i woke the other morning at 4:30 and couldn't fall back asleep. i sat in my bunk and listened to the night whispering sweet hymns down the halls of this chalet built for giants, kings and well... servants like me. that morning as the hours past i got up, took a cold... freezing shower (unknown to me, we ran out of oil during the night rendering us without heat or hot water). i watched as the snow capped mountains turned from the blue found on a marines formal dress to the softest amber. it is a humbling place to be.
i have slept well. i feel better than i have in years. i feel alive. i have the energy i did when i was in high school... if any of you can remember how obnoxious that was...
i have so much to learn i am sure of it. discipline is hard... i haven't read a full book in what seems like years. i have already read 2 since tuesday. i have fallen in love with the routine... hoping that i continuously keep falling in love with it.
it is a magically normal place to be. 3 meals a day, chores, study. plain. simple. peaceful. wonderful.
so i will go now, stand on the balcony and watch a full moon shine, whispering its prayers as i do into the mountain's slumber.
i have been so overwhelmed this week. wrapped in beauty and books. i woke the other morning at 4:30 and couldn't fall back asleep. i sat in my bunk and listened to the night whispering sweet hymns down the halls of this chalet built for giants, kings and well... servants like me. that morning as the hours past i got up, took a cold... freezing shower (unknown to me, we ran out of oil during the night rendering us without heat or hot water). i watched as the snow capped mountains turned from the blue found on a marines formal dress to the softest amber. it is a humbling place to be.
i have slept well. i feel better than i have in years. i feel alive. i have the energy i did when i was in high school... if any of you can remember how obnoxious that was...
i have so much to learn i am sure of it. discipline is hard... i haven't read a full book in what seems like years. i have already read 2 since tuesday. i have fallen in love with the routine... hoping that i continuously keep falling in love with it.
it is a magically normal place to be. 3 meals a day, chores, study. plain. simple. peaceful. wonderful.
so i will go now, stand on the balcony and watch a full moon shine, whispering its prayers as i do into the mountain's slumber.
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