me of little faith

Seek and ye shall find support -- at least if you have totally kick a*! friends like mine! As you may have noticed (say, in my last post) I'm struggling with the whole idea of accepting grace, of staying in the present moment.

I'm not always so great at reaching out for help outside of my family. But darn, this is so great, I might do it more often!

I wrote to Pastor Pam, and she sent me this piece of scripture. Anyone who knows me will get that it's funny that I'm being asked not to worry about what I wear.

Matthew 6:25-34 (NRSV)
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?' For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. "So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.

thank-you, thank-you

I received some WONDERFUL support this morning from my friend Jerry, along with this fabulous quote:

Willy Wonka: But Charlie, don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted.
Charlie Bucket: What happened?
Willy Wonka: He lived happily ever after!

Thanks, I needed that! (What commercial, tv program is that phrase from?)

Please check out Jerry's funny, smart, and engaging blog @ http://www.idiomsavant.typepad.com/

when the gods want to punish you...

they answer your prayers. I think that's Meryl Streep's line to Robert Redford in Out of Africa. I don't believe those words -- I don't, truly. But here I am...and so much is coming together...and I'm eating frozen pizza and goldfish crackers.

By which, I mean, I'm still afraid. But I almost have a second audio documentary I'm truly proud of, a radio station in Santa Cruz picked up my last piece, which is cool, and I haven't forgotten about Bipolar Girl...

And then there is something hovering out there, something powerful, that I'm not even ready to write about yet.

But I do need to write, that much is clear. I feel so much better now. WRITING GROUNDS ME.

So for now...one-mindfully, I will finish this sentence. I will brush my teeth, wash my face, listen to my audio books, until I fall asleep. And I will tackle tomorrows challenges -- and attempt to accept God's grace -- TOMORROW.

Just for the record, I'm MUCH better at tackling challenges than accepting grace. But I'm working on it.

fear itself?

When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.
-- Audre Lorde, 1934-1992

This quote from Audre Lorde is my email signature. It is also the first words at the top of my blog.

Tonight, I am breathless with fear. I am on the edge of completing a documentary audio piece that I've been working on (with a rather large gap in the middle) for over a year. I'm working with literally one of the best (if not the best) editors in public radio. In addition to this smaller project about one of my close friends Pam -- who moved up to NC after Hurricane Katrina -- D. has agreed to be an editor on "Bipolar Girl Rules the World." So it would be really good for me to talk with her about that project too.

I am a genius at helping others step over that bump of fear. And so tonight I managed to help myself step over mine. I called a friend and shared my fears. I got told that I'm a goof ball and to get over myself. I then took small steps to make sure that all of my tape was transferred to my new computer and that all the files were present. It's now 9:20 and I've printed up my 14 pages of transcripts that I did last summer. I may go home and listen to some stuff or I may just go to bed.

Stay tuned. Will Dawn continue taking small steps and move forward on the creative work she now has an opportunity to complete? Or will she derail herself in some spectacular way? Will she literally die of fright? Or will she decide that, as Audre Lorde says, that believing in one's vision actually results in being less afraid?

on reading

It occurred to me to feel a little silly about how deeply invested I am in the Harry Potter series -- my anticipation, my midnight tryst with hundreds of other fans (of all ages), and my dream of sharing these books one day with my child/children. I will say that I don't know if I would have sobbed quite so loudly if it hadn't been, well, that time of the month. But what of it? Why not cry about a book? About a ten year investment in a gorgeously developed gang of characters?

So the feeling of sillyness came up, and I looked at it, and thought, hmm, how interesting. And instead of shame, a wave of gratitude for READING, and writers, and books gracefully rose to the surface. My mother and her mother have modeled reading for me my whole life. I don't ever remember not reading as a child. And looking back, at the hundreds of books I have read, and the many, many I have reread, I think -- what a gift. All the complicated, difficult feelings I experienced as an adult -- reading saved me. While I didn't have the skills to negotiate the depths of my depression (or life) induced misery, I could READ.

I don't know how many times I read the Anne of Green Gables books as a child and teen. As an adult, I read and reread Ellen Gilchrist. Sometimes, books were like air -- I'd gulp desperately and finally, breathe easier as I turned the pages.

Sometimes, books were a way of numbing out, to be sure. But more often, I think, reading was an escape to something. A place of presence and meaning, of authentic emotion.

done for now,
d

harry potter, harry potter

I won't say anything, anything at all about the plot, because i'm afraid that anything i say might give something away. What I think I can say...

1) Last night, I ate a good, healthy meal and then permitted myself the luxury of uniterrupted hours. I finished the book. I read it really slowly, referenced past novels so that I fully understood the significance of each horcrux, and rereaad chapters as I went through so I made sure I knew what was going on. I didn't want it to be over.

2) Now that I read it, I keep going back and rereading parts.

3) I sobbed through several chapters. I cried so loud that my housemate came to check on me. I also laughed out loud through several moments.

4) I will be able to read the series to my unborn/not-yet-adopted children. That to say, the ending satisfied me deeply.

5) I need to wait awhile before I download the audiobook. Readling Deathly Hallows was a really emotional experience.

Thank-you, JK Rowling. Reading your books, especially Deathly Hallows was a truly wonderful experience.

p.s. The image above is the cover of the UK edition of the book.

p.p.s. check out JK Rowlings personal website. It's pretty great.

recent obsessions

amy winehouse
I can't stop listening to this album. And watching her videos online. she's amazing.

charlaine harris
She's a mystery writer, and I've never really been a mystery reader before. I got way hooked on her "Southern Vampire" series, starring Sookie Stackhouse, the telepathic waitress (my Mom did too). Now I just finished another series of hers -- the Lily Bard "Shakespeare" books. Strong, complex, southern heroines. Funny and well-written.

the upcoming release of The Golden Compass
the movie. 12.07.07. One of my favorite books is becoming a film. Please read the book, if you haven't already, or listen to the AMAZING audio recording. And Daniel Craig, of 007 fame, is playing Lord Asriel. Enough said.

the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I'm torn. Do I read it quickly and find out who dies? But then, this is the LAST one, so I should read it slowly, right? And what if JK kills....Harry? Can't do, can't be. How could I read this book to my hypothetical children and get them all invested in Harry Potter if he's going to die? Unbearably, I have a board meeting at 9 a.m. on the Saturday (12:01 a.m.) it's released.

tomatoes and blueberries
It's that time of the summer. tomato, basil, fresh mozzarella. bliss. And though the blueberry harvest was hit hard by the spring freeze, both the picking and the eating (with homemade shortcake) was still perfect.

summer movies
Live Free or Die Hard.
Bruce Willis, as you might have heard, brings down a helicopter with a van. It was totally awesome.

back to black

it's just been that kind of day.

or pieces of several days broken up by ok moments.

i'm in a kind of numbed out daze and i'm not exactly wild with coping mechanisms at the moment.

i have work to do that i'm not doing. i have something to turn in tomorrow that i have GOT to review before mid-morning. it's now 11:07 P.M. and if my summer house-mate hadn't let out my dog, I'd also be a terrible dog owner.

i am almost three-weeks overdue on an email i promised to send.

i have laundry to put away (this is not tragic. it's just that i could be creating some sanity in my physical environment if i hadn't been doing all kinds of ridiculous distracting stuff for the last few hours).

my head just won't stop with the mean self-judgmental crap.

well, it does sometimes stop.

well, it just hasn't stopped for several hours.

ok. this is funny. writing this post has somehow broken some kind of spell. i hope the break lasts long enough for me to pack up my computer and go home. if i can at least get to sleep at a reasonable hour then tomorrow doesn't have to totally suck.

i'm lonely, i think. well, last time i checked, that wasn't a crime. it doesn't make me weird that i'd like someone to love and to love me back. not too weird to want a family of my own.

mostly, i do ok with this wanting. mostly i cope with this particular kind of lonely. i'm grateful for lots of good things.

well, tomorrow is another darn day.

partcipating in the wave

Many Sunday nights still evoke that "haven't finished all my homework," feeling, and I was filled with a pretty good amount of anxiety last night. I was with my family (my brother was home from California!), trying to relax while watching television and sewing a book. (I was already weepy for various reasons -- none of them particularly relevant -- so I decided to go upstairs and have a good cry.

So I'm upstairs, splayed out on the floor, somewhere between a weep and a sob, and I'm thinking, ok, when I leave my folk's house, there's got to be some way I can numb out. Of course, on a Sunday night at 9:30 p.m., there's only one place to go for the "wander around and look at things to buy" drug: Wal-Mart (dun-dun-da-da). So then I think/say, with no small amount of desperation: "Don't make me go to Wal-Mart!" and then, out of me came something between a sob and a laugh. And then more laughing.

Part of this whole Dialectical Behavior Therapy thing is the idea that emotions are waves -- that you can experience them, but at the same time, step back a little and say, ok, whatever I'm feeling will crest and subside. And that's what happened. And what I'm noticing today is that I am feeling so much better. I was able to get out of bed, and get going, and turn in the work assignment that was days late without too much drama.

What I'm seeing is the quantatative effectiveness of DBT. The time taken last evening to have a good cry, to endure the wave, and make myself laugh, is having a multiple effect today. Very time effective.

Part two of all the angst this weekend is that I'm noticing the exhausting effects of my endless busyness. I fell asleep at 4:30 p.m. on Saturday, and didn't wake up until the next morning. I'm guessing I'm not more busy, but my craving for quiet and presence is growing stronger, and I'm more aware of the distance between my chronic business and what I'm striving towards. (Can one strive towards less busy?)

The drawing is my interpretive attempt at conveying both the waves and my sprawled body on the floor of my parents guest room.

l,
d