Garland 1

In the interest of sleep, I will not be able to share all of my thoughts. These were those the rose to the surface first. Many of them are related to one another, having surfaced in a chain—like a garland of musings. I wove the garlands together.

What does the BCS have to offer us, Spartan Nation, when Paul Bunyan is safe on our campus? The season is won. Take that, UofM.

Blue eyes are not uncommon to me. I have a pair, myself. In interactions at work and church I look directly into pretty circles of faux ocean, ringlets like sky lights, and hoops of near-green and never think of any particular person. I would love if the world were filled with eyes of purple, yellow, orange, and the brightest greens—each with its own virtues and shades to explore. Yet brown eyes grab me by the heart and make me a fool, shaking loose old memories. Every pair was only one to me: most beautiful of all.

What if Adam and Eve were not the first homo sapiens but the first homo sapiens to commune with God? If so, I have not been giving them enough credit! They got it right for a while, before the species started this long detour. God came looking for them after their mistake but they over-thought the whole thing and stuck fig-leaves between themselves and God. The first curtain.

I became a 'member' of Blue Lake Public Radio yesterday. The more I listen to their programming, the more I realize that I am fundamentally changing. I started dancing to some flute music as I prepared to do my Monday-night job-search. Six months ago, I worried that I would be unworthy of love; now, I am content to know I will share my antics somehow... and it appears to only be getting better.

It is a sad state when we allow ourselves to value our institutions more than the concepts which they exist to further. I thought of this while I was eating my PBJ. Religions are vehicles of spirituality; schools, of education; governments, of the law. I tried for some time to think of the institution that influences society. All of the above... and more besides. Every institution is really meant for society-- but some have more business influencing society than others.

As I read the book of Numbers I notice the prescribed distances between the tabernacle and most of the nation and how few people actually communed with God. I noticed those who did were all Moses's relatives, the Levites. He probably trusted them to do things 'right', as he perceived God to be saying. For several hundred years after that, prophets wondered why the people drifted from God's will. Maybe because they were set out on the edge? Curtains need ripping.

The most surprising moment of the day was realizing that in spite of the neuroses, the bad habits, and the erroneous assumptions that my parents transmitted to me they still equipped me better than most to exercise empathy and humility. Most days, I feel as if someone else's parents would have done better. That is precisely what God intends to do, anyway. (He seems to have changed the font)

Religious leaders on the right and the left will tell you that God is constant. I agree. God does not change God's mind, they say, and so each command that is given to the Israelites in the Bible, by extension, is applicable to our species today. I disagree. Our species is maturing over time (the dirty word is 'evolving') and like a good parent God's approach has, too. No parent treats their kindergartner like their teenager and this is justified. Jesus did not visit the garden of Eden or the great flood or the exile to Babylon—the time was not right. People in Sodom and Gomorrah could not be responsible homosexuals and they were destroyed. Since then, we've grown—we worked our way toward Jesus. Does not each age deserve its own considerations? Just a thought?

Lou, my community band section mate, lamented the self-centeredness of the latest generation. He also cut straight to the kernel of the issue, which is that they are not fundamentally selfish. They simply do not understand the motivations behind generosity and community. I fear that our society has spent two centuries disassembling the mechanisms that keep us from disassembling—in the name of liberty? Individuality? Television?

Dream Woman visited me again last night. She was sitting on a red couch with her wine goblet in a tastefully decorated room. We were just about to sit down and listen to public radio together when I awakened, wishing we could have conversed longer. Dream woman used to hold me, kiss me-- sometimes try to take my clothes off! Now, she wants to smile at me, engage me, get old with me. She was a brown-eyed metaphor for the changes in my desires—
--and she looked quite familiar to me.

Moses wanted so badly to get things right. The minutia of spiritual life is written in his hand; each stage is painstakingly recorded, discerned—cognitively processed. It was the law. Its aim was to delineate God's will with no room for doubt. Also, no room for Faith. Jesus said "It's not I that accuse you but Moses". Did you ever notice that Jesus never wrote anything down himself except in the dirt with his finger? That's the guy I follow. When Jesus came down from the mountain, God was written on his heart-- not on tablets of stone.

I would not count on Dream Woman always preferring NPR to fanning her passions but it was refreshing; even 'cool' of her.

If MSU can beat Iowa, "it" is theirs to lose. Since we are talking about the BCS, "it" is a fluid concept right now.

The entry is not what I imagined it would be; no musical thoughts or thoughts about writing... I love it just the same. Have a good night!