Because it's too cool not to share

What's the deal with prime numbers? Did you know this about them:

http://www.futilitycloset.com/2009/09/11/the-ulam-spiral/

Cool, much?

In other random passing comments:

Shout out to a reader in Greece! Please reveal yourself, I've noticed you for a while and am feeling curious and friendly :-)

I've started Twittering. I'm not sure if I will keep it up but I'm called Basic Kate if you are interested and I am currently experimenting with only doing it in the 2nd person... because 3rd and 1st are so passé.

I have experienced many declaration of randomness and joy recently so am quietly optimistic about the future, in particular because:
a) I now have orange hair and everyone knows that the future's bright, the future's orange (link).
b) There are public pianos on the streets of Bristol, which means we can dance and generally feed love (with music).

I saw a hen party gather around one of the pianos, all dressed in their silly hats and looking chavy, and one of them started playing classical music really well. Expect the unexpected. She then played 'Winnie the Pooh', which I had watched repetitively for a week this summer whilst babysitting and it makes me think of blustery days, which makes me think of the winds of change...

There is hope yet. Summer sucked but this late bit of good weather is all about things coming right eventually. Just gotta wait it out.

Anyway. Just dropping by, got a lot to do, but I will be back I think... and perhaps one day soon I'll tell you a story about the future being bright and where the orange thing first came from (it wasn't really a mobile phone ad but a funny shaped carrot). It's quite an old anecdote, from before everything went bad. Perhaps bringing it back is exactly what we need for this new start. September always feels like a new start to me.

Lataz x

Creating Space

What is he doing, that boy in midfield
With the innocent-looking face?
He's losing himself in the midst of the crowd
Creating space.

How does he do it, that ordinary boy
With no obvious surge of pace,
Find for himself in the crowded pitch
A private place?

The rest of the team and the other team too
Are happy to tackle and chase.
He strolls by himself in the midst of the crowd
Creating space.

Where has he gone to, that ordinary boy
With the incredibly smiley face?*
How could he shift from the well-marked pitch
Without a trace?

The rest of the team and the other team too
Continue to tackle and chase.
He's off on his own in a bubble of time
Creating space.

Allan Ahlburg, Friendly Matches, p46. Puffin, London 2002
*words slightly altered to better describe Sam


An ordinary boy was Sam. Yet really really not. Everyone knew - they could see it in his smile - just how different Sam was. The start up message on his phone said "Smile, Jesus loves you" and that is why Sam smiled... and why he was different. A little over two weeks ago this (extra)ordinary boy walked out of his football game, onto the pavement, into the arms of Jesus and now he is home (link).


A message from his dad:

Sam was a great boy. There was a reason he was like he was, its not just because of the way we brought him up or his awesome friends. he was different.

In the Bible it talks about Christians being like aliens, people who are not like other people, people who don't belong to this world, children of God, in fact.

Real Christians, like Sam, are not super heroes, they make mistakes and do things wrong and don't think they are any better than any one else but they know a secret that other people don't know and it makes them smile.

Sam knew that secret.

You wanna learn to smile like him? If you do then you need to know the secret. Thing is, it's not meant to be a secret, God has made it as plain as day.

If you don't believe in God you can't learn to smile like Sam. But if you believe...

You wanna know more? Reply to this and I will tell you what I told him and then you can chose to believe it and smile or turn your back on it and live any way you want.

The Bible says that if you know the truth you will be set free.

That makes you smile.



Today I create space for the message of a man that just cremated his extraordinary 11 year old son and still wants people to smile. Can you create the space to hear it? Maybe you already have the space and this "secret" of which we speak sounds like it might just fit...

OW

I know there is such a thing as blogging too much but I don't care, it is all I can do right now.

Last week on Monday Becca marveled at my cheer. I assured her that I did have the occasional half hour of despondency and she told me that, even so, if I ever actually needed her she would be there. She did not know what she was letting herself in for.

I don't think I have ever actually seen more pain ever in one place. We are not just talking Sam, though that sort of shadows the whole thing. Failed ambitions, broken hearts, lost dreams, yet more death. Everywhere I look. What is going on...?

When I started this blog it was Easter and I wrote about that day and the resurrection of Jesus as a symbol, or analogy, of hope in and potential for fullness of life. This is still true. Yet, well, show me the fullness...

I wasn't wrong to be hopeful like this but I did miss a vital part and that part is Good Friday. The day that represents death. The day of darkness. The day that reminds us of the things in this world that block freedom and life and, to me, shows the need for the substitution of Jesus.

I really really want it to be Sunday now, all the time, but I realise it isn't. Experience speaks for itself that all is not well. Some poeple would tell me I am living in a limiting mindset. I tell them to wait for what comes next if they don't believe me yet. Every day I wake up knowing that the day has something significant to bring and every day I go to bed and am hit by the sadness of what the day did bring. This afternoon I saw hope come to one girl as she dealt with her grief... only to hear a sudden death stole the life of her friend tonight. What is going on? I thought I had it bad. How are we to stand this?

Thing is, I do. I can stand it. I don't get it but I still fervently believe in the true love forever. I think I must be autistic. When love is imperfect our hope might be misplaced. When love is perfect then, by definition, it will not fail us.

If I had to pick a day of the week to be an analogy to life now I think it would be Saturday. Touched on both sides by the dark of Friday and the light of Sunday it is the both/and once more. Moving ever closer to the next day and farther from the one before, but not yet arrived... we have departed though, our destination is certain and it is at least the weekend.

So I sing. 'Dancing in the Moonlight' and 'Dance the Night Away' are pretty helpful. They are cheesy crap but I need that right now. It is Saturday night and the lights are down low. So DANCE. What else to do? I have more vehemency for life. I don't want to be bitter like Wolverine or Inigo Montoya. I have decided to be a musician, or at least actually try. Life is too short for wishful thinking and it seems the best way I know to bring joy. We need joy so so bad. And a soundtrack to dance to.

No, my hope is not stolen yet. Au contraire, it makes me all the more desperate to get away from Friday and see the dawn rising. I think we have to be ready to herald that dawn in and seek the rising sun and the casting away of the shadows. That is where the belief in the brighter future comes from even though we are still painfully aware of the things that happened yesterday.

I don't know how much more darkness will come and I desperately hope that I can stay joyful if it does. Literally anything could happen in the blink of an eye. The world as we know it is changing before our eyes.

Apparently, though, when Pandora opened that box and let evil out into the world, left in the bottom was hope. (No, I haven't confused my religion with ancient mythology.) Fragile though it was, it was there after all the bad stuff attacked.

Every generation sees shi*t happen and they didn't all see the end of the world come. I can't possibly speculate. I don't pretend to. But the phrase "the darkest hour is before the dawn" comes to mind. Time scales are of no consequence. I personally feel I can't cope with much more of this and still keep smiling most of the time but I could be wrong... we will bear what we will bear and the promises of what will come are very good and very real. People are tougher than they think. So what if I've got an injury and may not be able to race at the weekend; and my degree is falling apart before my eyes; and, well, I don't know what will sneak up on me next to try and steal my joy but it has all been having a pretty good go. However, if I can resist long enough it will stop and then the good will come... and it's not just true for me either. It is a little scary as to what may happen next, I admit. Better pray harder. In the end though, we go through hardships (link) now for a kingdom that will not fail or end. That's not just the Bible, it's the very nature of resistance and endurance training - ask any athlete.

Yes, we really still can see the brighter future. I once marveled to myself at how chirpy this blog had turned out and how much the world seemed to be telling me bright, joyful things. Now? I think it is telling me something quite different... but also that, in the valley, good things will come and how, though still dark, the dancing for joy isn't not true.

What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord, who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs. The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings. They will continue to grow stronger, and each of them will appear before God in Jerusalem.
Psalm 84: 5-7 (link)

Becca and I watched The Princess Bride again tonight. Keeping the vision. Lol, watching our "Perfect Love" in the shape of Westley the Farm Boy more like:


I jest because I don't know what else to do. And because I can. Hey, this is my Jesus, my true love, and I will not "marry another while He lives"... and, well, he sure is perfect... :-P Before we did this we lay on top of my car and watched the night sky and wished upon some stars. Then, well, I thought it was funny - a bloke walked past and in a moment of brilliant quickness I looked up and said:

"This isn't your car is it?"

We laughed for like 5 minutes.

Right here right now OW is a pretty good summary. But then so is WOW. Both/And. The best part is: the bad is fleeting and the good is not. This is why joy has, thus far, survived.

Sorry to be so intense, life just is right now. I wonder if it will ever not be...

A Death and a Wedding

When Sam, aged 12, died on Friday night I really didn't think this blog would be an appropriate forum to discuss it in. Well at first I didn't so much think at all, it was mostly an emotion of deep sadness. As the waves of grief wash over a person the internal processing is also tidal, and when I did get round to reasoning about it, particularly in the context of my world view, I didn't know how I could possibly reconcile my (still existing) hope and love of life with public expression or enthusiasm. There is distaste and then there is betrayal of dear friends in their terrible loss.

I made two mistakes. The first was an air of flippancy about joy as I blogged before. The second was to think that I must not be joyful now.

On Friday morning I felt like I wanted wanted to write a clarifier in response to my enthusiasm about dancing (link). Since Friday night I have had the fuel for this clarifier but it literally grieves me as to what it took to help me understand.

I find a useful model for experiencing the ups and downs of life in both the Bible and ancient philosophy. 1 Corinthians 4 (link) talks about a church that grieves together and rejoices together whilst Plato (link) too describes this when outlining a "city with the best constitution". We need to be respectful of one another when we see what we are going through but, more than that, community is about truly sharing in each others's lives. This morning at church we grieved corporately. I saw mourning parents, spoke with them, hugged them, cried a little too. It was really real and it was terribly sad and there are no answers.

And I don't think we are supposed to have them. We believe in a God that raises people from the dead but we live in a world where people do die and stay dead. The knowledge that Sam knew Jesus is a huge comfort to those of us who believe that means he is is heaven, but it doesn't stop the tragedy of a young life coming to an end; and expecting good things to be brought from this does not justify the loss. I think perhaps there are sometimes more questions as a Christian than not, because we believe that God knows what will happen and has power over everything. The need to let go and remember our humanity is difficult in the promise that we have the authority of Christ living in us.

So there is Both denial And acceptance of this death. And this is the first of many BOTH/ANDs. God is good... and bad things happen. We are free and empowered to live life in fullness... and life gets taken away. We should be glad for what is out there... and there are nasty things out there trying to get in. Continuing to believe in the best things... and seeing the worst happen. Knowing that Jesus said fullness of life is right here right now if we choose to live in it... but also knowing that He said He's going to one day come back and bring it with Him.

That last one in particular... it fits with my adamancy of late that we have the complete potential to be totally whole and free and living life in all it's fullness, yet with this happening as a sudden stark reminder of the final chapter to come in the story. It is NOW and NOT YET. How can this even be the case?

But it is the case. And as we mourn and are genuinely sad I have also had tons of laughter in the past 24 hours. I was at times so hopeful for what will come from this that I felt guilty... until I randomly met with my pastor in the street at just the right time, had some great sound advice from friends, re-remembered how to cry, then heard a sermon that reminded me I am only finite in my capacity to feel and that people can be both JOYFUL and GRIEVING simultaneously. I saw smiles and laughter at church, even through the tears of his parents. It was only a moment but everywhere and in every way we and life are both/and. [I highly recommend the sermon actually and will put a link up just as soon as it is online. It isn't overt-God, just really helpful ideas about expressing the truth that joy and hope and love is not wrong in the face of this, but that the pain is still real.]

Studying maths I have learned that many things are beyond understanding. If backed into a corner, even the most brilliant of theorists will have to admit that the very foundations of maths are unproven, circular and paradoxical. That is a nightmare and because of it we mathematicians live behind a veil of ignorance (wow I would not be popular in my department if they knew I said that!). The same impossibility applies here. Stuff happens that the actual processes of logic we use to function can't grasp. Life (and counting) does seem to work and go on but the why is totally incomprehensible and that is the point of trust.

One of the problems with the maths is the realm of the infinite. Things just change when we deal with numbers that aren't tangible. There is no more "logic". Sam's death is simply wrong on our finite human scale. When we factor in eternity it doesn't stop our human reasoning from being in pain because we are still human, but it does mean that somehow something is different... even if we are unable to fully grasp it. His six year old brother serenely drew a picture of him going off in a balloon from the rest of the family to a happy place. Kids that age don't have a grasp of the impact of "forever" apparently. I think maybe we are ones the that don't have the grasp. Who knows, perhaps that is the childlike faith we are told to believe in.

It was a steal, not a plan. But in the long, actual long, run, in a way we don't yet get, it is still fullness of life. Not the kind of death (link) that I wrote of before, so we don't mourn like those without hope (link). But we do mourn for now. Yet not too.

To carry on we must remember it is both/and. The sadness of death is true but so is the joy of life and, since the size (or cardinality for a mathematician) of the life far exceeds the size of the death, the net result is still good. In theory at least.

The wedding celebrated in our church on Saturday reminds us of this joy. A wedding, like the one Jesus gives (as mentioned a couple of posts ago (link)) as an analogy for the union of us with Him when He returns for good. The picture of perfect love, intimacy and joyful celebration for ever. We are still to hope for that and remember that it is coming in entirety one day...

Another thing we did yesterday was take part in a social action project, blessing the very community (I actually drove past the spot) in which the hit and run took place. Sharing love potentially, and definitely symbolically, with the drunk driver responsible. I was group leading with some children that day who are Sam's age and younger. They can't help but be joyful it seems. As we were driving along they started shouting excitedly out the window and, after a conversation about sensitivity to different people's beliefs, the little girl next to me began calling:

"Welcome to the future!"

When we got to lunch, for some unknown (possibly unknowable?!) reason there was a camp man playing a white custom-made fancy electric organ (with "Byron Jones The Welsh Wizard" written on the front) there, practising for a hymn concert that evening. Amidst the tunes he suddenly blasted out "Dancing Queen" and we all had a sing-a-long.

It IS the future, it IS dancing... and it is still a little bit now and sometimes crap with a capital 'C' too.

Fullness of life isn't always about merriment. My enthusiasm before was concerned with counteracting apathy and cynicism, not about grief in the things that genuinely demonstrate a lack of life. Yet the constant, all-pervading, joy is still a valid notion when considered in relation to the future hope; it just doesn't always look like dancing. (Though it still can do too.) Bitter-sweet.

The Bible says that the Kingdom of God (Christian lingo for total fullness of life (a necessary tautology I now realise)) belongs to those such as the children. It also says that death has lost its sting. We do still feel the bitter puncture wound right here right now but in heaven today, and forever more, Sam is dancing (well most probably playing football actually)... and he is gonna get better and better at it for ever and ever. That is just sweet.

Joyce, Jesus and noughties Gospel music

A brilliant comment on my last entry compels me to respond:

"As far as living life in all its fullness goes, I'm leaving you some Joyce on Jesus: "He was a bachelor, and never lived with a woman. Surely living with a woman is one of the most difficult things a man has to do, and he never did it."

At first I just thought you'd think it was funny. I love how, even though he's (at most) half-serious, it tells you v little about Jesus but loads about Joyce's relationship with his own long-term partner: the implicit tolerance, sense of duty, and ultimately the love that makes you stick it out. That kind of intimacy is so crucial to being human, it seems like a life without it would have such a hole in it. Ah, I get the 'marriage is an analogy of Jesus and his Church' thing, but I bet Jesus never had to pick the Church's suspenders off the floor for the nth time in a row, and bite his lip to keep from saying anything, as if he did, it would deliberately flirt with St. Peter to try and piss him off. "

I couldn't fit what I had to say in a reply and so I post!

The analogies in play here are Jesus to humankind and how his marriage to the church (that is all Christians, not a pile of bricks) is actually an insufficient relationship experience.

The point is the necessity of intimacy for a fulfilled life.

When I make plans for my future, which I mostly do for fun given how often they seem to change, I keep one element open. Nothing I dream of requires or denies a partner and kids. This is so I don't get disappointed - but that is not sad like one friend thought I meant! Equal to growing old alone, if I makes plans that have me traveling the world on some crazy-cool lives-changing mission and then someone comes along and messes them up, I don't want to begrudge the brilliant low key local community life God may have planned for us. Whatever happens though, one thing I don't think is that I will need human intimacy to be complete.

Yet my reader is not wrong that we crave intimacy. Indeed, I think she may be spot on in identifying it as the crux of humanity.

Jesus is not just Becca's analogy, He is also God's analogy. God used Jesus to show us what humanity is supposed to look like. Does that mean God says we are all to be alone then? Not at all. A single ancient Jewish bloke in his early 30's (not least one that is so perfect!) isn't a very relatable character for many folk at all. The key is to pick up on the theme that the analogy is promoting (like my prophetic underwear - the theme is not that life is pants!). The theme of Jesus's life was His intimacy with God - sharing the same vision (of peace, love and joy) and staying in constant touch (through prayer that is). That is what we are supposed to get from the example.

Which makes sense because, as rightly observed, people crave intimacy. But maybe they got that from a desire to be closer to God that comes from when we hung out together in the garden? As also quite rightly observed, a lot of us do find this in human relationships... but people can totally let us down (which isn't a fulfilling feeling at all) and even if not, that description of compromise and tolerance of an other's flaws doesn't sound perfect to me. All the different relationships available to us are, in my mind, analogies to help understand God better. The marriage one demonstrates an intensity of love and an exclusive intimacy that we can't get elsewhere. Sex, well, that's a whole other post but I think it is a powerful example of that in action (literally), which is why we need to be careful how we use it. Don't get me started on the dangers of cultural sexulisation though...!

As for this notion of the church leaving it's suspenders on the floor - dirty laundry all over the shop. The appropriateness of that analogy saddens me: how right you are that we take the piss all the time out of our perfect "husband"; we aren't Jesus's fulfillment and all too readily we will flirt with St. Peter. When he walked the earth too Jesus didn't get the intimacy that he needed from his followers - Judas betraying him, Peter denied him, Thomas doubted him and absolutely no-one understood him. By the end of his life Jesus was entirely alone and then, on the cross, even God left him. At that point there was no fullness of life. Not because he wasn't married though, but because the intimacy he had with God that gave him wholeness was gone. Totally alone, the moment before he died, crying out that he had been forsaken by God.

Becca, you're not wrong that Jesus didn't have fullness of life... but it was not 'cause he wasn't married. He showed us it was possible, told us to believe in it, then experienced the absence of it at an intensity no man ever has. Totally void and alone, the pain of the crucifixion was far harsher even than the accumulation of his friends rejection, public taunts, hatred, injustice, scorn, whip lashings, sleep deprivation, cross dragging, thorn wearing, nail piercing, tendons tearing, nerves stabbing, giddy bloody and drawn-out suspension process. Jesus, on the inside, was dead to life in the holistic experience sense and it was because he didn't have intimacy.

For me this is both the how and the why I now want to live life in all it's fullness. I can because what Jesus did on the cross actually changes everything for ever, enabling freedom even when it seems impossible (I didn't mean to get this preachy already and that is yet another topic... but if anyone wants to know then ask, do do ask); I want to because, well, it would be both foolish and wrong to knock that back, given how much it costs and how freely it was given. Jesus suffered for the hope of future joy and right here right now is the future! The time for mourning is passed (he rose from the dead don'tcha know!) because death is dead, life is alive and he took the shackles off our feet so we could dance!

I appreciate that the bible telling you to always be joyful may not be relevant to everyone (though if the bible is relevant to you then harken at that) but an unrestricted life should be. The world is analogising it all the time - this freedom is in the smell of spring and the colour of a kitchen. The universe points out the true way to life and all I know that that it pointed me to Jesus. If you got a better way tell me, if you got a worse way look for a better one.

Freedom from death in every sense and perfect intimacy - is there anyone that doesn't want it this good? Perhaps you're stumped by "too good to be true"? I say it again: life only makes sense if it is alive and death surviving is an oxymoron. Truth is a part of this wonderful life and lies are what destroy so, actually, since the better something is the more "alive" it is, we can thus imply without contradiction the truer it is! Thus the most brilliant things are also the most true. ERGO: eternal (in both the time and quality sense) life right here right now just IS!

"Everything for ever, nothing never."

DEATH the sequal: Jive for Joy

This is a response to what I wrote two weeks ago about DEATH. It is quite a long response, I warn you now, but there are lots of fabulous analogies with a few pics too... and I do actually have a point. The crux of which can be summed up in this bible verse:

The young women will dance for joy,
and the men—old and young—will join in the celebration.
I will turn their mourning into joy.
I will comfort them and exchange their sorrow for rejoicing.

I still wanna expand though. Partly because explaining the long way is my favourite and partly because I really like the story.

The last time I wrote about this I was sad that my dog Wendy had met an untimely end:
If you recall, she had turned vicious (would you believe it from the picture?) and had to be put down :-( I was angry and upset at the waste of life that it symbolised. It was strange, that night I mourned in a way I had not expected, at an intensity I'm not sure a dog deserves... and it felt like God was analogising my pain to His. I don't want to be flippant but I was incredibly aware, to some obviously limited degree, of all the terrible things in the world that He sees as a waste of life.

The next day I was very sad. The weather was too - very dark, rainy, heavy and just generally nasty. I was battling this depressive mood and I just didn't understand how any of the trivially good things in this life that made God glad were a patch on all the darkness. You see, a day or two before I had this image of God smiling on us through a ray of sunshine... but what was one ray of sunshine in all the storm? This weather analogy was reinforced by the art show I had seen the previous day (as I left my very bad exam and was reminded of the important things in the world). It is called the Hard Rain Project and is a photo collection of images that were taken to accompany a song by Bob Dylan. Very powerful. It was printed on weather proof plastic and displayed open air (if you are in Bristol and reading this then tomorrow (Fri 1st May) is the last day and you can find it in the uni royal fort gardens - well worth it). The project calls the song prophetic and, since the artist managed to take tons of images from around the world that very clearly illustrate the lyrics, it is hard not to agree.

"Where the hunger is ugly where souls are forgotten"

How is God not always crying?

Yet as I was in this place he pointed me towards one of my more ridiculous analogies. I rediscovered these in a drawer shortly after I became a Christian and was so delighted by the way I thought they had "prophecied over my life" that I framed them and put them up in my toilet. I call them the 'Pants of Power':

For those that can't see the writing, they say "imagine a brighter future" and there is a picture of a rainbow too!

This day of mourning I suddenly felt like I was being told to once more imagine this brighter future, not just for me but for everything dark. What is with that? Everything is so sad, so utterly sad. Yet, well, two things. Firstly: a rainbow comes when sun shines through clouds and if I think God is sun and there are all these stormy clouds then the result should be that bright rainbow, right? Secondly: well, the bible promises a hope and a future (and rainbows symbolise promises) and it also says that all things are possible if we believe. So, what, imagine it and it can happen?!? OK, granted, the God stuff is less compelling if you ain't a Christian but who doesn't want the crap in this world to be improved? And the notion of belief making things better, well, positive thinking is touted all the time as a means to improve circumstance - this is just that to the nth degree.

Still. I wasn't at all sure how to do this. I was still sad for one... and it still rained. I went out to a jazz bar that night with some good friends and it was OK. Sort of. Nice to be with people that cared anyway. Then towards the end I decided I had to dance the last couple of songs, even though I felt blah. So I stepped out onto the floor... and the song, would you believe it, was "It's the end of the world as we know it" (they were one of those funky country style bands that do amazing remixes). Then the last one was a fabulous mashup of "Seven Nation Army" with "Livin' La Vida Loca". So: this broken world is gonna be different, nothing can stop it, living life in all it's fullness!

It was like I claimed that on the dance floor. I still felt like Shi*t but I said yes to it. I suppose, really, I chose life. I imagined. And then what happened...?

The next day I went to a dance event. Not a pokey bar but an actual, very fabulous, jive night just down the track in Exeter. I got on the train (as opposed to missing it!) and as I traveled further south the sun came through the clouds and I knew everything was gonna be OK. And it was. I caught up with one good friend in the day and then introduced her to another good friend that night and we both made a load more friends! The whole weekend was just great but the dancing, oh boy was the dancing somin' else.

I love to dance and hadn't had the chance to in a while so when the (most excellent) band played for the freestyle set I really just had to go for it. It truly was dancing for joy. Not just with joy but actually for it. Claiming it, walking in it, twirling in it... choosing it with every part of my body. The moment they played "Shine" (with the genius incorporation of (if I remember correctly...?) "Hey Jude" - sad song, make it better?!) I knew that the brighter future was not just possible but, in that moment, it was there. Call it heaven, perfection, life, fullness, joy, happiness, eudaimonia (if you're poncy or an ancient Greek), bliss or the Kingdom of God... It was there in me. Hurrah!

And I think that actually "jiving for joy", or rather "living for joy", might just be what this is all about. I don't mean that it's never gonna be hard, or that we aren't on occasion in a time to grieve rather than dance, but in general we should not be at a place of mourning. The world is not dead yet. We ourselves are not dead yet. There is a hope for us all to escape a mediocre life and, if we imagine hard enough, for them out there to escape their proper actual suffering too. Everything, literally everything, can be changed for the better. So bring on the joy and let's get optimistic!

Since then it has more or less sun-shined non-stop. I have felt pretty chirpy these past two weeks too and it's the kind that don't get beaten by fluctuating dissertations or foxes. I think it might be His plan and it certainly feels like what life is supposed to be... but more on that another time because this is actually only half the post I was gonna write and it's already pretty long. The next installment is about what this brighter future, or "heaven on earth" looks like. It takes the form of a carrot at one point and, handily, there is also a formula for making it happen.

Oooh, just one more thing though. I recall something I said that Thursday night (before the sadness hit) about what I thought heaven would be like. It was one of those jokey this-is-what-I-like-now-so-I think-it's-that-all-the-time convos and I said that for me it would be dancing... Then the next two days with their little revelations happened... Then, as I got the bus home from the train station on Sunday in Brizzle, I got chatting to some girl and jiving came up. Randomly she goes every week and told me about her class on Monday nights! So I got home, saw Becca (my friend with whom I tried jiving (also in Exeter, I haven't analogised the dancing in Devon yet but it is curious!) two months ago and have since wanted to find a class together) almost straight away, and now we're excited to go just as soon as we can...!

So, well, if heaven is dancing then it seems I should be getting on with it asap. More generally, if life is about having heaven (or "heaven") now and dancing means joy, then maybe everyone should be getting on with it. After all, I think that living life in all its fullness might just be the point. Incidentally so did Jesus, but that's another story...


P.S. I'm not saying just switch on joy but rather to decide to actively look for it and then, if you find it, choose it. God helps if you've got Him. If not, well, you tell me...?!

Weak, Broken, Vandalised?

This sunshine recently, well, there is a whole blog in that just waiting to be made ready, but in brief: it has been Good. Really wonderful symbol of really wonderful things. Lots of light, nearly summer, winter is so over it is untrue. I've been joyful.

Not so much today though. Today has been a test of joy as something that doesn't give in to external rubbish. The way I see it, real joy keeps going despite circumstances that would try and break us. Inner life that resists all the outer troubles; that defies death. If everything was always wonderful then the remarkable surviving capacity of joy would never be known. So, when my potent delight started getting a bit wobbly today, I just had to choose a joy filled life even more. Strangely enough, for the best part it worked.

Until now. This evening life has been all about the broken sunglasses and destroyed artwork. The choice to be joyful felt firmly taken. I was too tired, too worried, too comfortable in my misery to carry on choosing. Or at least to want to... and wanting to choose is kinda where it is at.

I broke my sunnies by being careless, flippant some may say. Sounds like me. I shouldn't have chucked them in my handbag along with everything else I carry around and expect the arm not to snap off. I've taken the risk enough times but I ought to have known better. Why is it we have to learn the hard way? Gutting. Loved those shades but obviously not enough to look after them.

As for destroyed art. Time ago, when I first moved to this city and I wrote a different blog, I got excited about this graffiti:

I said it was a Banksy (very famous local artist) but actually I was wrong. It is a Nick Walker (famous-if-you're-cool local artist).What I never got around to saying at the time is that this happened but a few weeks later:

Isn't that just a proper shame? I noticed it again this evening as I was walking home from my 'up-and-down, I was defeating it but not so much now' day.

Then, well, I sort of was thinking about all these weak, broken and vandalised things that say defeat and misery and destruction and stupidity and hate and lack of perfection... and I started to look on the bright side! Or not so much but, well, I'll explain...

Take the picture. I don't entirely understand it, granted, but there seems quite a good vibe. You got the heart, the romantic plotline. It looks like a picture of alternative love. Then some scally-wag comes along and corrupts it by performing actually destructive paintwork on top, denouncing all that is stands for in proclaiming freedom for "vandals". However, if you see the idea of Vandalism as being the main message then, actually, the picture itself getting vandalised can in some poetically just way be seen as an unlikely but in-keeping response to the original; merely reinforcing the ambiguity between beauty and mess. Moreover, perhaps it is even about the 2-D artist "Prince Charming" abusing Rapunzel and the picture is really about love being a vandal: a harmful, corrupting force... so whoever came along has just let the b*stard have it...?!

The chances are that it was a bored, jealous rascal trying to bring destruction and death. But you know what, even if it is that I reckon it makes no difference to what comes from it. That kid can't control the spin that we put on the muck, transforming rubbish into beauty as we see truth in it. He hasn't a clue what genuinely positive results come from something and he can't control it neither.

As for my careless, smashy smashy attitude. Well, on Saturday I couldn't find my fave ever sunglasses, not for love nor money. I only just spotted them yesterday morning as I left but I was in a hurry so I took the ones I already had in my bag: the big brown ones that were bought as a bit of a joke in Dublin oh so long ago... It was those what got broken, not the black heart-shaped ones I adore that have already been replaced for me once! (Lol. I swear only one reader will even know what I'm talking about... but she will care so I mention it for you Miss Spitfire!) My point? Perhaps I made a mistake but it could have been worse and from learning the hard way I can avoid doing so when it is really important. Perhaps it was a narrow escape. I don't really know what this means apart from about sunglasses! I think it is something to do with not beating myself up for when things go wrong and I feel, or indeed am, responsible.

All this may seem highly speculative (when does it not?!) but I reckon, perhaps, even speculation can fall into the graffiti camp. Doesn't really matter what motivation may be behind people, doesn't really matter what the result looks like on the surface or how bad the day gets, good can still come... somehow. There is a verse in the bible that talks about this, it is one of my favourites:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans%208:28;&version=31;

Kinda makes me hopeful that no matter how much I mess up something, someone messes up me, or even when a situation feels so dark and dead that I can longer "muster up" joy myself, it doesn't really matter. It will still all be OK. Nothing can be so weak, broken or vandalised that it can't be turned to good, no matter how bad it may initially seem. Now there's something to be glad about!