The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green. -- Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish Writer

Sometimes I think we feel we need to be doing something really huge to justify taking up space, but this quote puts it into perspective for me. I just love this one.

It's enough just to be. And we water the ground around us. Maybe we even make a wilderness bloom. And it is not that we do it consciously, we just do it because we are.

Even the simple things of life that we take doing for granted, such as washing dishes, are seen to be important if they are not done.

It's enough just to be who we are. Going through our day with as much enjoyment and as much courage as we can muster, hitting some hard or low spots, or even high spots, but carrying on carrying on is really doing a good work.

And yes, sometimes it is work...

Without a word our lives can be a counterbalance to the difficult places or people in life, and that's saying a lot.

Karin

He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. Jesus in John 7: 38

Originally posted 2007-03-17 07:48:31.

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girl meets GOD is the third book I've read by Lauren F. Winner, though it is the first that she wrote. I got it from the library.

She organizes the book mostly around the Christian calendar -- Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, Eastertide, Pentecost, Advent -- and ties it to the Jewish calendar when it applies. The first chapter is Sukkot.

Winner is a seeker after God. She collects an impressive library of Jewish works by the time she is in her teens, then gives them away when she becomes a Christian, then re-buys many of them to re-build her library. She is earnest. It is obvious that she wants to be her best at what she believes, from her converting to Orthodox Judaism (her father was a Reform Jew)(her mother a lapsed Baptist) to her driving a couple of hours away for an Episcopal priest to hear her confessions, even though she has confessed them to God and made an effort to leave them behind.

She is not a virgin, and she writes frankly of trying to reconcile that to church teachings (and her confessions.) Additionally, she has written an online article about sexuality (which I read) and a book (which I have no interest in reading.) Her online article was not well received by some Christians. She feels it is unlikely that people will remain celibate into their 30's, if they postpone marrying until that time.

Because I read all three books over a relatively short time, with a lot of interruptions by life, the books have run on together in my thoughts. The one easiest to read was Mudhouse Sabbath (see my review here.) That one ties together the two elements of her religious life, Judaism and Christianity. It shows how having a deep understanding of Judaism permeates and enriches her Christian faith. (It did many of the early converts to Christianity also, though she doesn't mention this.)

What drew her to Christianity?
The long and short of it: she read extensively, to the point that her Jewish friends commented on it, that it didn't make sense to them. She had a dream. She fell in love with Jesus. I think she was drawn to the ideas of atonement, forgiveness and heaven.

Also, the farther she drifted from Judaism, none of her Jewish friends pulled her back or encouraged her in her faith walk of Judaism.

What happens when she converts to Christianity?
She loses friendships in the Orthodox Jewish community. It deeply disturbs her father. Later, both her father and her mother (who are divorced) are drawn more into their own faith traditions. Her father becomes active in the synagogue, and her mother becomes active in the Episcopalian church.

In some ways she wrote this book as an apology to her Jewish friends, and with the hope that Christians might learn something about Judaism.

My take:
I give it 2 stars out of 4.

I got tired of this book, perhaps because I know what follows in her later books. It got tedious. She has been called self-indulgent. In some ways, following along with her is an emotional roller-coaster. She deals with her jealousy of a friend's marriage and pregnancy -- and more.

As I said, she is earnest, but it's as if, to me, she is trying so hard, because she isn't exactly sure what would happen if she didn't. There comes a point at which one rests in one's faith, while not being complacent. It is who one is, not so much the outward symbols of what one does, though how one acts is definitely important.

Have you read it?
What did you think?

You can find my reviews of Still: notes on a mid-faith crisis here.

It is available for Kindle:

Karin
www.savvythinker.com

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One of the things I like to do, though unconsciously, is people watch. Likely it is because I grew up in the fashion world, so I enjoy seeing what people wear and how they wear it. I am not critical, I am just looking with an interested eye to analyze, because I've been a buyer. At a young age I was buying not only for youth, but for older men and women. I know too well the fleeting nature of fashion and of trying to stay ahead of the game to anticipate trends when shopping the markets to buy for the next season.

Stores in our area had a hard time sustaining themselves when they used northern buyers for our market. It just didn't fly. Think hot, humid, and tropical and you would be right. What you'd wear in NYC or Chicago, you would likely not wear here. Also, the majority of us grew up somewhere else and came here for the space industry, so our fashion tends to be eclectic, but geared toward extreme heat.

The other day I was on a college campus with my 11 yo who had a function there. There were parents, as well as kids from 5th grade to 12th. Three college girls parted a swath amidst us. One was striking; one was average; one was OK. It was clear the striking one was leading the others and they deferred to her. They were an island to themselves. She was head of the pack, and she knew it. Confident. The rest of us of whatever age were invisible to them. I wondered what they would look like as parents. It was hard to imagine. But the day is coming whether they parent or not.

The next day I stood in a long line at the post office. Two young girls were in the front, one might have been an exchange student. One wore a dress; one wore shorts and a T. Both were modest and circumspect in their clothing. In front of me were two women older than I am. They both were invisible, in their demeanor and in their clothing. Behind me were women, invisible, looking hot and tired, none young. More or less patient in the line. I tried to imagine them the age of the young girls and failed. I tried to imagine what the young girls would look like at the age of these women or of me, or the ones behind me, how they might dress, and it was near impossible. I wondered what the hopes and dreams of the older women had been, and if they had achieved them. I wondered if the young girls would achieve theirs.

Next came me, fading into invisibility, maybe, wearing my uniform for the heat: shorts and a T. And don't forget I wore a lot of bracelets before they came back in style. Or I set the style, LOL. I am fashionable, but not a fashion plate. And I'm recycling things I loved from years gone by.

It reminded me of Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Or Robert Frost's

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I don't think of myself as old, though to some I might be, and there are moments when I definitely look older than I would like to. I don't intend to go quietly. I hope never to be invisible. I've got a long ways to go before I end up there. Maybe I'll be like the 107 yo woman blogger and still be blogging. That would be something! But I hope it is an interesting ride. And she is clearly not invisible.

Someone I know once said to me that she couldn't wait until she was old enough not to care what she looked like. How old is that, pray tell? I'll never forget the striking much older woman on the arm of a younger man in Paris, her head scarf twisted into a flower by her ear. High heels and tasteful makeup. I have something to aim for, but skip the heels!

How about you? do you think of yourself as invisible, or do you know better?

Karin

Here it is in full:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Poem lyrics of Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Originally posted 2007-08-29 22:12:05.

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If you haven't seen The King's Speech, do yourself a favor and rent or buy it. It is inspiring, funny, touching, true...

They don't come any better than this. Real life is sometimes stranger than fiction.

Imagine a scenario in which the new king of England (and etc.) abdicates to marry a twice divorced American woman, leaving the throne to his more than capable brother, more capable than he, but who stammers...badly...at a time when radio has just come on the scene and one must be able to speak if one is to lead.

And then remember that it actually happened.

Bertie (later known as King George VI) had a strong sense of responsibility, even to the responsibilities of being the head of the church in England.

Collin Firth is outstanding; Geoffrey Rush is superb; Helena Bonham Carter is the epitome of a loving wife...Michael Gambon was terrific as King George V; Eve Best channels Wallis Simpson...Timothy Spall plays Churchill to perfection...

It might be interesting to know that Lionel Logue, the speech therapist who helped King George VI was a Christian Scientist (this is not Scientology) at this time and believed in the possibility of healing. This was not brought out in the film. He had some immediate successes in curing speech problems, including those who had been shell shocked in WWI.

If you'd like to watch a video that tells more of Logue's connection with Christian Science, which is not covered in the film, you can see it here.

The film changes some of the details from RL, but not the essence of the story. Lionel Logue was contacted in 1926, and King George VI gave a speech without stammering in 1927. The speech this film is based upon is the first wartime speech the king was required to give in 1939. Lionel Logue was at every speech that the king gave for 20 years. It is true that they became friends. It is true that Elizabeth turned Bertie (King George VI) down twice, before she accepted his marriage proposal, because she didn't want to live the life of a royal. Their marriage seemed close and loving.

I have seen the film twice. First with my older daughter, then I took both of my younger daughters (age 13 and 15 at the time) to see it. It makes history come alive.

I kept thinking the age my parents were at each point of the story as it unfolded.

Some of the continuing story, after the film:

During the Blitz, Elizabeth refused to leave London or send their children to Canada, even when she was advised by the Cabinet to do so. She said,

The children won't go without me. I won't leave the King. And the King will never leave.

It was said of her that she was like

a wave breaking on a rock, because although she is sweet and pretty and charming, she also has a basic streak of toughness and tenacity. ... when a wave breaks on a rock, it showers and sparkles with a brilliant play of foam and droplets in the sun, yet beneath is really hard, tough rock, fused, in her case, from strong principles, physical courage and a sense of duty. Sir Hugh Casson

~~
She knows instinctively what to do on those occasions. She doesn't rise to being heckled at all; she just pretends it must be an oversight on the part of the people doing it. The way she reacted not only showed her presence of mind, but was so charming and so disarming, even to the most rabid element, that she brought peace to troubled waters." Peter Ustinov

Have you seen it?
As I watched it, I thought that God used a man who couldn't speak to overthrow a man who spoke so well that he enticed a large part of the world to evil. It was a wonder.

She evidently gave her permission to film the story in the 80's, but only after her death.

edited to include: Lionel Logue took patients for free (he called them pupils, not patients) who were unable to pay him, because he had clients (pupils) who were in a position to pay him a lot. His house was not as humble as it appears in the film. It had 25 rooms and was evidently larger than the first house that Bertie and Elizabeth lived in when they were first married. Additionally, he was a very handsome man as evidenced by photos. More than this, to me, his talents were used on a broader field than they would have been if only used by himself individually. He was the right man, in the right place, at the right time doing the right work.

Karin
www.savvythinker.com

Originally posted 2011-02-19 23:36:11.

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I only recently heard of Irena Sendler, a Polish Catholic 97 year old woman who rescued 2500 children in the Warsaw Ghetto from the gas chambers in 1942-3.

After getting the children out, she arranged 'adoptions' by non-Jewish families (I admire them too for the risks they took) to protect them, documenting their names in a jar which she buried, so that one day she could tell the children their real names.

She was captured and tortured, eventually escaping, but she did not betray what she had accomplished.

She was up for a Nobel Prize in 2007 which she did not win, but she won a far more nobler prize.

You can read more about her at this website.

Karin

Originally posted 2007-10-29 08:35:43.

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The things of this world
Always, there is far more beauty in this world than we are aware of.

But enter the prodigious talents of someone like Jarbus Agnelli who transcribed the notes represented by birds on a wire. He reminds us of possibilities yet unseen and still unheard. Figuratively, he listened to the music of the spheres.

It reminds me of Hamlet:

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Shakespeare

How do we open the doors of our inner vision to see more of the good that is around us!

Perhaps the willingness
... to be different, to walk a different path
... to be open to possibilities
... to look at things differently
... to take a second -- or even a third -- look
... to listen for new ideas
... to look up
... to take whatever time is necessary -- or to realize that time cannot restrict us
... to develop the skills that are uniquely our own
... to admit the possibility that there might be something more
... to seek for it
... to share it
... to be thankful for it.

What do you think it might be like if we could translate things and events into music?

What if we could hear music in the way that Mozart or Beethoven did? What if we could hear what they never transcribed?

What if we could translate words into a ballet?

Somehow the whole is greater than the parts.

And remember, the melody always includes you.

Do you suppose that is some indication of divine supply?
Everywhere around us -- and where we are -- is filled with more than we can imagine. Count on it!

...today is big with blessings. Mary Baker Eddy

Karin
www.savvythinker.com

Originally posted 2009-11-05 19:41:01.

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I like to watch the Oscars as much for the glam as for the host and the presenters, not to mention the winners. I never wanted to miss any of Billy Crystal's openings.

Ellen DeGeneres is hosting the Oscars this year. It sounds like she is working incredibly hard, double shifting her talk show, and getting ready, writing and re-writing, while keeping a good spirit about it. It's something she's hoped to do since she hosted the 2001 Emmys.

I'm trying to enjoy every step of it: the anticipation, the day of, the night of...It will be interesting to see if this is something that I'll do again. But right now I'm just looking forward to this one.

That's the secret to happiness, according to one book I read: to enjoy all that goes into the final moment of accomplishment. If you are a writer, the book said, but you only enjoy it when your book is published, you will not be happy the rest of the time. But if you enjoy all that goes into writing the book, then you will be happy. I'm not sure I totally agree, because if you hope to be published and that doesn't happen, then what.

Others say her warm approach, her positive attitude, her wit, humor and unpredictability and that she makes you feel good are parts of her appeal.

She hopes for some last minute surprises on Oscar night, like when Jack Palance did one-armed push-ups or when there was the streaker.

Chris Rock evidently told her last week that the job is 'scary as hell.' I betcha. About 40 million watch it in the US, not to mention other countries. As she says, not too many people could do it.

She hopes to spread a happy vibe. I don't know about you, but I can always use more happiness.
Karin

Originally posted 2007-02-21 09:53:51.

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I became aware of this painter this morning via another blog.

Japanese artist Riusuke Fukahori paints stunning visions of goldfish, so realistic you feel they would swim out of the canvas. How he started painting them was a gift --

As he tells it:

12 years ago, on the day when I was at my most depressed and thinking of giving up my dream of painting, my attention was inadvertently caught by the single red goldfish that I kept in the room. It was a shabby, common Japanese goldfish that I had kept for 7 years. Opening the lid of the filth-covered aquarium, I watched as the goldfish wiggled around. Its back glittered red in the water and I was captivated by its beauty. I thought: “Why has it taken me so long to notice this beauty? This little fish will surely save me.” I then began to paint goldfish and now, 11 years later, I am still painting them. (Translated by RocketNews24)

You can read more about his story and see a video here. The video is evidently blocked in the US, at least that is the message I got this morning.

Isn't it wonderful to think that just a seemingly small notice of beauty can lift a person out of the depths!

Never underestimate those small ideas that may yield big results. And remember to stop and see the beauty around you.

Have you ever had a moment like this that lifted you out of a deep pit?
How lovely to realize we don't always have to struggle our way free. There is an answer, and it may be very close at hand.

Here's a quote I like:

I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty. Georgia O'Keeffe

I suspect that Riusuke Fukahori would say something similar about goldfish.

Karin
www.savvythinker.com

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Have you read the story of the 98 year old woman rescued under the rubble of her house after Italy's recent terrible earthquake?

When asked what she did alone in the dark for 30 hours? She crocheted! What a gal! I'd love to see what she crocheted.

I don't think it is possible to keep a woman like this down.

My dear grandmother was quite a crocheter but she stopped long before age 98. She made one beautiful bedspread out of the equivalent of string, the thread was so tiny.

Do you crochet?

I like to crochet, but lately I've been knitting.