![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Lent, day 17
Mar. 22nd, 2014 09:25 pmThis is something else that's new to me, but very beautiful:
Lent, day 16
Mar. 21st, 2014 08:28 pmI missed posting yesterday. Today, just a short quote:
"What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you.
Ralph Waldo Emerson"
"What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you.
Ralph Waldo Emerson"
Lent, day 13
Mar. 18th, 2014 09:33 pm"On Being Human" a poem by CS Lewis.
On Being Human
Angelic minds, they say, by simple intelligence
Behold the Forms of nature. They discern
Unerringly the Archtypes, all the verities
Which mortals lack or indirectly learn.
Transparent in primordial truth, unvarying,
Pure Earthness and right Stonehood from their clear,
High eminence are seen; unveiled, the seminal
Huge Principles appear.
The Tree-ness of the tree they know-the meaning of
Arboreal life, how from earth's salty lap
The solar beam uplifts it; all the holiness
Enacted by leaves' fall and rising sap;
But never an angel knows the knife-edged severance
Of sun from shadow where the trees begin,
The blessed cool at every pore caressing us
-An angel has no skin.
They see the Form of Air; but mortals breathing it
Drink the whole summer down into the breast.
The lavish pinks, the field new-mown, the ravishing
Sea-smells, the wood-fire smoke that whispers Rest.
The tremor on the rippled pool of memory
That from each smell in widening circles goes,
The pleasure and the pang --can angels measure it?
An angel has no nose.
The nourishing of life, and how it flourishes
On death, and why, they utterly know; but not
The hill-born, earthy spring, the dark cold bilberries.
The ripe peach from the southern wall still hot
Full-bellied tankards foamy-topped, the delicate
Half-lyric lamb, a new loaf's billowy curves,
Nor porridge, nor the tingling taste of oranges.
—An angel has no nerves.
Far richer they! I know the senses' witchery
Guards us like air, from heavens too big to see;
Imminent death to man that barb'd sublimity
And dazzling edge of beauty unsheathed would be.
Yet here, within this tiny, charmed interior,
This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares
With living men some secrets in a privacy
Forever ours, not theirs.
Clive Staples Lewis
Lent, day 11
Mar. 16th, 2014 09:31 pmThis little anecdote has been around for a while, but I love its message: "Do what you can."
The starfish
Once a man was walking along a beach. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Off in the distance he could see a person going back and forth between the surf's edge and and the beach. Back and forth this person went. As the man approached, he could see that there were hundreds of starfish stranded on the sand as the result of the natural action of the tide.
The man was stuck by the the apparent futility of the task. There were far too many starfish. Many of them were sure to perish. As he approached, the person continued the task of picking up starfish one by one and throwing them into the surf.
As he came up to the person, he said: "You must be crazy. There are thousands of miles of beach covered with starfish. You can't possibly make a difference." The person looked at the man. He then stooped down and pick up one more starfish and threw it back into the ocean. He turned back to the man and said: "It sure made a difference to that one!"
The starfish
Once a man was walking along a beach. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Off in the distance he could see a person going back and forth between the surf's edge and and the beach. Back and forth this person went. As the man approached, he could see that there were hundreds of starfish stranded on the sand as the result of the natural action of the tide.
The man was stuck by the the apparent futility of the task. There were far too many starfish. Many of them were sure to perish. As he approached, the person continued the task of picking up starfish one by one and throwing them into the surf.
As he came up to the person, he said: "You must be crazy. There are thousands of miles of beach covered with starfish. You can't possibly make a difference." The person looked at the man. He then stooped down and pick up one more starfish and threw it back into the ocean. He turned back to the man and said: "It sure made a difference to that one!"
Lent, day 8
Mar. 13th, 2014 04:27 pmI missed yesterday.
This quote is not by a Christian, but is very appropriate:
“Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
This quote is not by a Christian, but is very appropriate:
“Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
Four legs and a tail=trouble
Mar. 11th, 2014 09:55 pmToday has been quite a day, and BOTH our furbabies have been trouble with a capital T!
I had to work unexpectedly today, as I was asked to fill in for a sick co-worker. I got home quite tired, and decided to take Sophie for her walkies right away, so that I could just collapse and rest. Since the weather was warm though windy, I left the front door open and the screen door latched, so Miss Bella could come out on the porch while we walked. I was just going to go up and down our block a couple of times, so I would never be out of sight of the house. This is something I've done several times and it's never been a problem.
Until I got home. I unlatched the screen door, and the wind blew the door right out of my hand, and Miss Bella made a dash for it. I grabbed for her and missed, and as I did the end of Sophie's leash slipped off my wrist and SHE made a dash for it too! Fortunately, she kind of bowled over Miss Bella, who then ran back into the porch--I grabbed the door and latched it. By that time Sophie was halfway up the block!
Guess what? I can still run! I chased that darn dog nearly a block and a half before I managed to get close enough to grab the leash. She thought it was funny--I'd call her, and she'd stop and maybe come back towards me and then when I'd get close to grabbing range she'd dart further away and then turn and LAUGH at me! (Don't tell me dogs don't laugh; I know what that look on the little smart-aleck's face was!)
So, got the dog home and got both animals in the house and the door closed. I collapsed in my chair and tried to get my breath back. My knees were killing me, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
The DH got home about an hour later, and after talking for a while, I went to fix supper. I was almost done when the DH came in the kitchen. "Where's the cat?" he asked.
"Well, last time I looked she was in my chair in the living room." Nope, not there.
There followed nearly an hour-and-a-half of searching every little hidey-hole in the house. Every so often we could hear her squeak, but it was faint and muffled and we could not figure out where it was coming from.
Finally the DH realized: it was coming from UNDERNEATH the house! He went outside, and sure enough he could hear her under there, and he managed to coax her out, wrap her in his shirt (to avoid getting shredded: she likes being held but HATES being carried.) and bring her in. We are still not quite sure how she got outside, though my best guess is that she snuck out when the DH took the trash out.
So we ended the evening with everyone safe at home; but after such a frantic day, my knees hurt like crazy and my nerves are shredded.
As for Sophie and Miss Bella, they are sitting around in wide-eyed innocence demanding that we pet them and cuddle them! Little self-satisfied brats!
But we'd have been devastated if anything happened to either of them!
I had to work unexpectedly today, as I was asked to fill in for a sick co-worker. I got home quite tired, and decided to take Sophie for her walkies right away, so that I could just collapse and rest. Since the weather was warm though windy, I left the front door open and the screen door latched, so Miss Bella could come out on the porch while we walked. I was just going to go up and down our block a couple of times, so I would never be out of sight of the house. This is something I've done several times and it's never been a problem.
Until I got home. I unlatched the screen door, and the wind blew the door right out of my hand, and Miss Bella made a dash for it. I grabbed for her and missed, and as I did the end of Sophie's leash slipped off my wrist and SHE made a dash for it too! Fortunately, she kind of bowled over Miss Bella, who then ran back into the porch--I grabbed the door and latched it. By that time Sophie was halfway up the block!
Guess what? I can still run! I chased that darn dog nearly a block and a half before I managed to get close enough to grab the leash. She thought it was funny--I'd call her, and she'd stop and maybe come back towards me and then when I'd get close to grabbing range she'd dart further away and then turn and LAUGH at me! (Don't tell me dogs don't laugh; I know what that look on the little smart-aleck's face was!)
So, got the dog home and got both animals in the house and the door closed. I collapsed in my chair and tried to get my breath back. My knees were killing me, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
The DH got home about an hour later, and after talking for a while, I went to fix supper. I was almost done when the DH came in the kitchen. "Where's the cat?" he asked.
"Well, last time I looked she was in my chair in the living room." Nope, not there.
There followed nearly an hour-and-a-half of searching every little hidey-hole in the house. Every so often we could hear her squeak, but it was faint and muffled and we could not figure out where it was coming from.
Finally the DH realized: it was coming from UNDERNEATH the house! He went outside, and sure enough he could hear her under there, and he managed to coax her out, wrap her in his shirt (to avoid getting shredded: she likes being held but HATES being carried.) and bring her in. We are still not quite sure how she got outside, though my best guess is that she snuck out when the DH took the trash out.
So we ended the evening with everyone safe at home; but after such a frantic day, my knees hurt like crazy and my nerves are shredded.
As for Sophie and Miss Bella, they are sitting around in wide-eyed innocence demanding that we pet them and cuddle them! Little self-satisfied brats!
But we'd have been devastated if anything happened to either of them!
Lent, day 6
Mar. 11th, 2014 05:16 pmLyrics to one of my favorite hymns, behind a cut for length:
For the Beauty of the Earth
( Read more... )
For the Beauty of the Earth
( Read more... )
Lent, day 5
Mar. 10th, 2014 09:11 pmToday a quote from CS Lewis:
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.”
― C.S. Lewis
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.”
― C.S. Lewis
Lent, day 3
Mar. 8th, 2014 04:56 pmI thought today I'd share something from JRR Tolkien's personal life.
54 From a letter to Christopher Tolkien 8 January 1944
Remember your guardian angel. Not a plump lady with swan-wings! But – at least this is my notion and feeling – : as souls with free-will we are, as it were, so placed as to face (or to be able to face) God. But God is (so to speak) also behind us, supporting, nourishing us (as being creatures). The bright point of power where that life-line, that spiritual umbilical cord touches: there is our Angel, facing two ways to God behind us in the direction we cannot see, and to us. But of course do not grow weary of facing God, in your free right and strength (both provided 'from behind' as I say). If you cannot achieve inward peace, and it is given to few to do so (least of all to me) in tribulation, do not forget that the aspiration for it is not a vanity, but a concrete act. I am sorry to talk like this, and so haltingly. But I can do no more for you dearest. ....
If you don't do so already, make a habit of the 'praises'. I use them much (in Latin): the Gloria Patri, the Gloria in Excelsis, the Laudate Dominum; the Laudate Pueri Dominum (of which I am specially fond), one of the Sunday psalms; and the Magnificat; also the Litany of Loretto (with the prayer Sub tuum praesidium). If you have these by heart you never need for words of joy. It is also a good and admirable thing to know by heart the Canon of the Mass, for you can say this in your heart if ever hard circumstance keeps you from hearing Mass. So endeth Faeder lár his suna.1 With very much love.
Longað þonnet þy lǽs þe him con léoþa worn,
oþþe mid hondum con hearpan grétan;
hafaþ him his glíwes giefe,
þe him God sealde.
From the Exeter Book. Less doth yearning trouble him who knoweth many songs, or with his hands can touch the harp: his possession is his gift of 'glee' (= music and/or verse) which God gave him. How these old words smite one out of the dark antiquity! 'Longað'! All down the ages men (of our kind, most awarely) have felt it: not necessarily caused by sorrow, or the hard world, but sharpened.
Such a loving letter to a son soon off to war, and filled with advice, yet still containing meat for the mind as well as the heart!
54 From a letter to Christopher Tolkien 8 January 1944
Remember your guardian angel. Not a plump lady with swan-wings! But – at least this is my notion and feeling – : as souls with free-will we are, as it were, so placed as to face (or to be able to face) God. But God is (so to speak) also behind us, supporting, nourishing us (as being creatures). The bright point of power where that life-line, that spiritual umbilical cord touches: there is our Angel, facing two ways to God behind us in the direction we cannot see, and to us. But of course do not grow weary of facing God, in your free right and strength (both provided 'from behind' as I say). If you cannot achieve inward peace, and it is given to few to do so (least of all to me) in tribulation, do not forget that the aspiration for it is not a vanity, but a concrete act. I am sorry to talk like this, and so haltingly. But I can do no more for you dearest. ....
If you don't do so already, make a habit of the 'praises'. I use them much (in Latin): the Gloria Patri, the Gloria in Excelsis, the Laudate Dominum; the Laudate Pueri Dominum (of which I am specially fond), one of the Sunday psalms; and the Magnificat; also the Litany of Loretto (with the prayer Sub tuum praesidium). If you have these by heart you never need for words of joy. It is also a good and admirable thing to know by heart the Canon of the Mass, for you can say this in your heart if ever hard circumstance keeps you from hearing Mass. So endeth Faeder lár his suna.1 With very much love.
Longað þonnet þy lǽs þe him con léoþa worn,
oþþe mid hondum con hearpan grétan;
hafaþ him his glíwes giefe,
þe him God sealde.
From the Exeter Book. Less doth yearning trouble him who knoweth many songs, or with his hands can touch the harp: his possession is his gift of 'glee' (= music and/or verse) which God gave him. How these old words smite one out of the dark antiquity! 'Longað'! All down the ages men (of our kind, most awarely) have felt it: not necessarily caused by sorrow, or the hard world, but sharpened.
Such a loving letter to a son soon off to war, and filled with advice, yet still containing meat for the mind as well as the heart!
(no subject)
Mar. 6th, 2014 09:52 pmOnce more, for Lent instead of giving up something negative, I am going to try to find something positive. Each day of Lent I hope to post something beautiful and uplifting.
RotK and the Oscars
Feb. 28th, 2014 02:56 pmHere is a really fascinating article about how RotK came to its historic wins 10 years ago:
http://www.vanityfair.com/vf-hollywood/return-of-the-king-oscar-oral-history
http://www.vanityfair.com/vf-hollywood/return-of-the-king-oscar-oral-history
A favor, please...
Feb. 26th, 2014 12:59 pmHere's the link to my profile page: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1335626/dreamflower02
If some of you could check and see if the links work for you? Then just comment on if they did or not here?
Thanks ever so much!
Dana made me fic
Feb. 21st, 2014 07:43 pmhttp://danae-b.livejournal.com/47761.html?thread=550801#t550801
ETA: Use this link instead: http://danae-b.livejournal.com/47761.ht
