"Shoreline" or "Why canoes and Water Taxi Beach make me uncomfortable."

 

I love the shore of Brooklyn. Be it Coney Island, Plum Beach, Red hook, Dumbo, or the small inlets of Dockside. The closer I get to the shore, the better I feel, the brighter and clearer the sun shines. I like going in the morning, before the nanny/child pilgrims and the surveyors. I like being alone near the shore.

I was afraid of boats for a long time, but really just deep water. I have always attributed it to a Fourth of July in Michigan, 1993 or 4, I think. We were spending the holiday with an older couple; my mom had been tutoring the wife and they invited us to their cottage on a lake near Holland, Michigan. It was evening and my mom and I were sitting on the top of a double-decker pontoon boat which was docked in the back. We were watching some teenagers two properties down, who were setting off fireworks towards the middle of the lake. One of the rockets went sideways and landed in the water a few feet in front of us. The neighbors yelled their apologies, but I was terrified that it was still blazing and was going to pierce one of the floats, like a torpedo, and sink us. I asked my mom if we should go inside, and she said it was okay. The boat wouldn't sink or and they were going to be more careful. A few minutes later, she slammed my head forward onto the AstroTurf flattening herself over me as another stray bounced on the turf behind us, leaving the smell of melted plastic before hissing into the water on the other side. I wasn't scared in the few minutes as we climbed down, just shocked that it had happened again, that I had forseen what my mom couldn't. I am not afraid of fireworks.

The shore line draws me now because it is a definition. It is an end and limit placed on development. House boats and pier resturants keep it from being an edge, but there is only a minimal blur. Everything here is expanding, trying to claim as much space as possible, but the water is there, steady and moving at once. It has no need for gluttony. Thus far, it remains uncolonized by permanent fixtures.

The closer you get to the water in Brooklyn, the further you get from civilization. Even from those western views that afford the grandest views of King Manhattan, you can feel separate. The trains, concieved of and laid down before ferry boats were obsolete, aren't close enough to be convenient. We are on an island, but you must be so intentional about getting to the edge.

+++++++++++++++++++

Sure shore: You are there, like the edge of the world; like when He separated night and day and you became the evening and dawn. I am bound to one side by my human nature, though I long to be enveloped by the mystery of the other side.

I love being alone near the shore.

"Bacon!" or "Take & eat; do this in remembrance of Me."

Warning: This is not a kosher post. Literally.

I am a believer in little graces. I think we get little gifts each day, designed especially for us. Spotting them is just a matter of perspective and awareness.

For example, when I go down to the subway to catch a train and it pulls up just after I reach the platform, I like to thank God for that little gift. I remember to do this a lot more in the middle of winter or summer. It's not that I think the trains/ world revolve around me, but rather than feel lucky, I feel thankful.

You may wonder what goes through my mind then when I am stuck with terrible 2 train traffic or construction on the weekend, waiting on a platform for 30 minutes in the freezing cold, at 2am, with a shady fellow pacing 30 yards away. Instead of wondering what I did wrong to deserve this though, I remember that a punishment is not the opposite of a gift. It wouldn't be so special if the train always showed up just as I did, when I had done something particularly nice or moral.

There is no equation for grace. Grace is the inexplicable part of sanctification, little graces included.

I received a special little gift today in church. But first, some background knowledge.

May I present the example of a miraculous scent of roses. For those who don't know, there are many Christians who believe there have been Marian Apparitions, visits from the Blessed Mother, even in the past 50 years. These are usually to children to deliver a warning for peace and the exultation to pray to the Lord for peace. Sights where this has happened often become destinations for religious pilgrims. One of the most often reported experiences by these pilgrims worldwide is an inexplicable smell of roses, Mary's dedicated flower. On person may smell them and the person next to them will not. (In her 70's my Grandmother visited a sight in Bosnia-Hercegovina called Medjugorje, and returned a claimant of the rose scent.) I don't say this to agree or disagree doctrinally, but to give the example of a small grace. Even if it turns out that the woman who wears rose perfume and sits near an air duct in the next building is to blame for the rose scent, it is still a small grace. I think God must use things in the world to talk to us, even when we can explain them. Probably more frequently, even, when we can explain them. He's not sitting in heaven racking his brain trying to find ways to convince people to believe in Him by inventing something that cannot be explained away by science or circumstance; I would think God doesn't really have a whole lot he has to prove to us.

For this reason, I would like to publicly thank the Lord for filling the church with the glorious smell of bacon just as communion began this morning. I did nothing to deserve it, but it made the Eucharist all the more special. Jesus knows I love bacon.

And it was hilarious.

"Hilbert's Ghost" or "How I Stopped Loving and Learned to Worry about the LHC"

So, I have LHC Mania. I barely understand what the Large Hadron Collider is, but it seems very romantic to me. A Victorian romanticism where science is more of a wild guess than an question asked based on the answers of questions before. In short, my best understanding is that it is largest particle accelerator ever, with which physicists hope to replicate the environmental and material conditions that began the universe in a fraction of a second all those years ago. It will give light to question about the basics of the laws governing the universe, and presumably answer questions that have existed for a long time. I am not even going to go into the theological implications here.

While I am fascinated by the science, I cannot pull myself from combing for new information about the social situation and implications for community surrounding it. For example, this Physics of the Universe Summit that was covered in the NYTimes today.

Intro my brilliant idea...
A comedic musical starring the LHC and the people surrounding it. Think modern Dr. Strangelove meets Bones meets Back to the Future. I imagine a female main character, her partner in research a man whom is hopelessly in love with her, but very timid. (He also never corrects her errant assumption that he is a homosexual, or calls her on her slightly homophobic, non-politically correct cracks about his sexuality. In fact, he is so beflustered and helpless that he even goes on a date with her cousin from Minnesota when he is on town. [only referred to, we never met the cousin] Yes, she is that socially dense.) But our physicist is married to her work, she is afraid to flip the switch (read: afraid to love).

The whole thing is an analogy. Repressed love, fear of beginning something new and unpredictable, of turning the LHC on and what could happen. Our main character has hidden behind science and has a very low view of love and affection (It's just a mix of dopamine, norepinephrine, and oxytocin after all.) It is the story of her coming over to the side of risk. And the guy growing the balls to finally confront her.

The closing scene is the two flipping a switch together. We don't find out what happens. Armegeddon? Maybe. Nothing? Maybe.

Alternatively, the whole thing could take place in flashbacks. 50 years after the switch was flipped. Nothing happened and all the scientists had to find something else to do with their lives. The two meet at a reunion organized by network TV and talk over drinks. They have both changed and could end up together or not. I'm not really partial at this point.



Setting: Geneva, French/Swiss border (and the future maybe)
Minor characters would include:
A quirky junior fellow / intern (what are these called in science stuff?)

David Hilbert (mathematician who authored the 23 Hilbert problems that steered 20th century math) who visits our main scientist as a ghost/vision/who she just talks to when by herself a la Marley and Scrooge. (As a bonus for nerds each of the Hilbert Problems will be subtly referred to through out the musical.)

Some authority figure who drives the timeline. This is the person forcing the switch flipped, tired of the 'lollygagging of you science folk.' They are motivated either by needing a distraction for the public (a bad war perhaps?) or the secret hope that the time/space travel myths about the LHC are true and they will be able to correct a grievous wrong they did in the past.

Also, the theological implications could be a great subplot. Creator vs. created, etc.
(Vanity Fair: "There was also a CERN subplot in Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, in which Illuminati steal anti-matter from the L.H.C. in order to evaporate the Vatican.")



Okay, there you have it. Now who wants to write it? Who wants to check the science? Who wants to choreography the "Waltz of the Proton Synchrotron"? Don't all get up at once.

Miracle Music

I'm sorry Bethany, it's time to acknowledge that most Coldplay songs, a few Keane songs (God bless those rediculously chubby hands that bring us rediculously soulful ballads), and the entire Red Hot Chili Peppers 'One Hot Minute' album, are a good background soundtrack to a miracle.

I fully expect in my life, to see good and miraculous things happen. To see prayers answered quickly. To see people pushed out from the front of trains by unseen angels. I only hope I can open my eyes wide enough and not blink for long enough to recognize them for what they are.


- Posted by mobile; forgive my gramatical shortcomings. -

Shoot man, technology is confusing!

Hey all, this was supposed to be posted here yesterday, but instead, I posted to my other blog. And I am without computer, so, "Oops, sorry, redirect...."

http://seekingthehollows.blogspot.com/

- Posted by mobile; forgive my grammatical shortcomings. -


*UPDATE
I have imported all posts from the Seeking the Hollows blog over here. I will keep that one up for posts related just to that project, and for the meantime, will cross-post to both if it seems appropriate.

"Fear" or "Reference for future plotting against Jenn"

While doing research for the much anticipated (at least by me) redesign of my site, jromaniszak.com, I can across the most complete listing of fears I have ever seen. As I scrolled through, I started to assess whether or not I had a particular fear, and if so, to what degree. What's that syndrome first year med and psych students get where they think they are afflicted with everything they read about? Yeah, it was a slight case of that. I realized there are quite a few things that make me shake in my boots, and a few others that I would pointedly work to develop a fear of, just so I could use the word that it is called. Here is my in-exhaustive list.

Bolshephobia- Fear of Bolsheviks.
Cancerophobia or Carcinophobia- Fear of cancer.
Chrometophobia or Chrematophobia- Fear of money.
Dutchphobia- Fear of the Dutch.
Eremophobia- Fear of being oneself or of lonliness.
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- Fear of the number 666.
Kainolophobia or Kainophobia- Fear of anything new, novelty.
Leukophobia- Fear of the color white.
Lockiophobia- Fear of childbirth.
Mechanophobia- Fear of machines.
Pteronophobia- Fear of being tickled by feathers.
Scriptophobia- Fear of writing in public.
Teratophobia- Fear of bearing a deformed child.
Xerophobia- Fear of dryness.

The ill-advised exercise got me thinking about fear, and that old phrase "The only thing to fear, is fear itself."

Bull.

I'm afraid of a lot of things. Not nessicarily bugs or zombies, but plenty of things scare the beegeeses out of me (Hey, my grandfather had to flee the Bolsheviks!). And then there's the guilt about the fear, because Christ's most often repeated command is the "do no fear" type. And don't forget then the inevitable fear that the guilt will never go away, and the fear that Jesus will be mad at me that I feared at all in the first place..

For me, fear could be synonymous with worry. I worry about money; I worry about being alone on a Friday night. Sometimes I even catch myself worrying that I will worry about something later. There are so many things that could go wrong in the world, that to worry about them all, to fear every little thing, could become all-encompassing, soul swallowing, and change who you are at the core of your being. It's more than a full time job, AND FEAR IS EXHAUSTING! But even with this logical assessment, I still fear. Even though Christ commands me not too, I still worry. I think He knows this, and that's why Christ takes every chance in the Gospel's to remind us not to fear. We are more than sparrows and lilies and see how they are cared for?

Why are we given such a difficult and abstract command? Sometimes it's even involuntary! Creepy dude runs at me with a butcher knife; shoot, there I go sinning again when I cringe and run away. I think that this command is like a hand full of other key imperatives given by Christ that serve a particular purpose. The rules we struggle with the most are usually the gateway for understanding mercy, and especially grace. Christ also says to give everything away (Rich Young Ruler). He says, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:38) There is no way for me to make myself perfect just like God, and that's the point.

Lemme break it down fo' ya.

God: "DO NOT FEAR"
Me: (worry, worry, worry)
God: "DO NOT WORRY"
Me: (worry, worry) "...oh shit."
God: "See, that's why you need me."
Me: "Oops... sorry ...again."


The opposite of fear and worry is not bravery. It is trust. We MUST trust that when we are told we are made perfect in Christ, he wasn't lying. There's no way for us to double check.

That's not to say, that you just throw a switch and, WHAM!, now I trust. Even when Paul writes to the Colossians about being perfect, he clearly states there is a process involved. "We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me." The labor allows us to be prefect, but the only way into and through the labor is with "all His energy". It is our labor, our work, our change, but it is His means.

Let me break this into clauses; it makes it easier for me to understand if I say it part by part.

When we overcome our fears,
by being transformed
to trust in the Lord,
we are freed
from the self-centeredness
of a life steered by worry.

When will I eat? What will I wear? We are clearly promised these things if we will only believe in them. (Matthew 6:25-34).

OKAY, now here's the important part:
Being freed from fear opens our lives up to obeying the second most repeated commandment: "Lord God and others." And though it's only second in frequency, Christ does identify this as THE MOST important commandment. " 'Love the Lord your God..., and Love your neighbor as yourself...There is no commandment greater than these.' "



I have a pattern. When I worry, I start worrying more. A metaphor: With each little thorn in my paw, I start looking closer and seeing more and more little thorns that I hadn't seen before. Then I pull out the magnifying glass and when I am just about ready to start bawling, thinking my had is made more of slivers and thorns than muscle, some one will tap me on the shoulder and say, "Sorry, I can see you're busy, but I need some help. As you can see, I just got hit by a falling tree and am bleeding from my eye sockets. Do you have time to point me in the direction of the hospital?"

Fear makes me self-centered, and reinforces selfishness. Trusting requires me to be Christ-centered, and practice selflessness.

So, maybe "The only thing to fear, is fear itself" is not very helpful, but another commonality about fear might be. I forget who says it, but the idea that once you name your fears they are easier to deal with, that gives me comfort. As I learn more and more to recognize the signs that I am acting out of fear for myself and not love for God and others, it gets a little easier.

Bit by bit,
over time,
just like all disciplines.

Sneaking back into the room.

Ok, I will skip the apologies for forever not updating. Things are busy, but not busy enough to warrant lack of updates.

Things are moving!

Brooklyn Update: My small cottage industry for preserves is has not financed a return trip yet, but I am convinced I am on my way.

National Update:
I attended the National Storytelling festival at the beginning of October where I met a lot of people and was able to get some feedback on my project from people more local to the region (the festival is in Jonesbrough, TN). In particular I had a conversation with one woman who was very excitable, and with Eric Wolf, host of "The Art of Storytelling" podcast, which has been my piecemeal apprenticeship up to this point. What a lovely man! In our short conversation, I was encouraged as well as challenged. He invited me to an eco-tellers conference in April. Really, what a boon; now I have a deadline.

I have been making my way though my "leads list", though not as quickly as I would like. And am hoping for a trip before Christmas. Though, more likely, after New Years. Holidays are busy at the church, and I am not sure that I can really put my coworkers through that. It might necessitate learning some phone recording techniques.

I have yet to launch the local ex-pat call to arms, but I like to say it's because I am waiting on my website to be finished. Like to say, but probably just another excuse.