Time is an illusion...

I'm afraid that life is simply too time-consuming. Lately, it's gotten to feel as though busy-ness is about the only real quality I can truly call my own.

I haven't had a free weekend in who knows when, and in the five-six hours between the time I get home from work and the time I go to bed, there's always SOMETHING of a high priority nature that demands my attention for an altogether too lengthy period of time. Everything blurs together in such a way that when you look back, the only clear recollection you have is of being "on the way" to the next thing for which you are already a few minutes late.

All in all, it's just plain tiring.

About every two weeks or so (sometimes less frequently, depending on when I pause briefly for a breath) I wind up asking myself what has to be the world's most popular question: "Why?"

With everything in the world to spend time on (heh, even idiots have no excuse!), how does one keep from going absolutely crazy? Or at least have time to pause for something like a nap? sun-set?


Honestly though, I think our time is spent where our priorities lie.

For what other reason would you want to be exhuasted? Knowing that your time is spent doing what you have decided is something you enjoy doing or need to do, what could be more satisfactory?

And with that, I'll conclude this rather time-consuming post and look for something else to consume my time.

Random treasured thoughts...

The air is always so full of life just after a rain. Especially when you get the musky tree smell coupled with a nearby body of water.

That combination always reminds me of the smell of wet pine trees in the morning, which in turn reminds me of my grandparents house of yore in Northern LA.

Wherever it is that I eventually settle down at, I want to have pine trees so my children can grow up with that smell and know what it's like to fight with pine cones and make beds out of pine needles.

Short, sweet and to the point

My attempts at making coffee this morning went off without a hitch and for that, I was extremely grateful.


For some reason or another, I was completely unable to sleep until about 3:30 in the morning.

*insert appropriate grimaces coupled with expressions of shock and sympathy*



Thus you will all understand my reason for keeping this like my attempt at coffee:

Small in quantity, large on feeling, and oh so mediocre on sweetness.



I just wanted the world to know that I can make coffee.

Not-so-awake-but-close-enough thoughts

I realize it's been a while since I've posted at my really old blog. A long while, actually.

I started that one to have a place to vent thoughts on, well, politics. But since I took off from school in late May of last year, well, see for yourself. There's simply not a lot there.

I should be crawling out of the woodwork soon, though, as I become more politically knowledgable. Lately, I've been blissfully non-opinonated in my thoughts as only a very small portion of them are ever dedicated to politics or current events in general. I guess I should clarify that by putting "current events" in bold or something.

I recently shocked someone by telling them the history of church services in our nation's capitol. Yes, that's right. I meant to say "in."

And I, just as recently, shocked someone else by thinking that Ariel Sharon was dead.


At any rate, the thoughts labeled "current events" have been lately growing in number and increasing in frequency of appearance.

Why the change? I'm starting school again.

That's right. Rachel's back in PHC DL courses...look out world.

At any rate, until my political consciouness is fully aroused, know that coffee is fully functional at whatever temperature.

That's right.

- When coffee is piping hot, it keeps you awake.

- When it's just right, it still keeps you awake

- When it feels like you've just downed an brownish iceberg, it will still keep you awake.

Hence, coffee is one of the few things I can think of in this thought-repressed moment that fulfills its function no matter its temperature.

Finally, French Vanilla Creamer will cover a multitude of sins. And lack of sugar.

That is all.

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

Well, today is the day.

Am I nervous? Sure. But strangely enough, I don’t feel as much trepidation as I did a week ago.


Peace? Oh Definitely.


I think, however, I should be a good deal more nervous.

After all, I’m teaching kids I’ve never met before, in a home I’ve never been to before, with surroundings I know absolutely nothing about, for a speech teacher I’ve only talked to twice.

Of course, I’m sure it will all hit me at exactly 11:15 AM tomorrow morning and I will likely get the feeling that I just broke to finals with no case, no evidence, and no make-up.
(and who hasn’t heard the latter half of that story before?)

All in all, though, I’m really excited. When I first started debating in ’03, I remember hitting the end of my rope in mid-September in my mad search for a debate club and placing a desperate call to the ever-patient Heather. When she got back with me, she said that she’d been in touch with everyone she could think of who would know, and all she could say was that while I lived in the heart of one of the most home-school populous states in the US, debate clubs were a rarity. In fact, Arkansas and New Mexico were the only states in our region that had a state contact.

(Of course, debate has absolutely blossomed in Texas over the past three years. Between the amazing Butlers of Corpus Christi, the awesome Watsons of North Ft. Worth, the quite factual Larimers of Houston, the enthusiastic Umstadtts of Austin, the ever-constitutional Millers of Decatur, and myself in West Ft. Worth/Weatherford, we’ve managed to pull together 40 some odd teams for the last state tournament in 2005; quite a jump from the brave 16 teams at my first state tournament.)

So when I got into my second year of coaching and my first year of debate involvement without competing, my vision has been to see debate expand to those states that don’t currently have it.

While I don’t see debate as “perfect” or an activity that is for everyone, I think it’s a fantastic adventure for anyone who has a love of politics, law, and/or public speaking. I found out about debate for the first time at the beginning of my official senior year and decided to be a “super senior” just so I could debate one more year. Over the years, I have found that my story is a common one. My desire is to see that story become a rarity.

In other words, if you’re not a debater, it’s not because you haven’t heard about it. ;-)

So this is why I think it’s so neat that I get to go to OK. I hope that by this time next year, we’ll see OK teams at the regional tournaments and maybe OK will have a regional tournament of their own.

But at the same time, I remember that I’m only planting a seed and that the seed is extremely small. The primary thing, then, I want the students to walk away with is a new perspective of communication.

Debate, to me, was a continuous exercise in I Corinthians 13:1. It’s one thing to give a speech in public. It’s quite another to debate an issue in public without that issue causing tension between the two. (or four ;-) ) They may have already had this experience, but I hope this will stick with the ones who haven’t.

Aim small, miss small; right?

All's Well that Ends Well

So as I sat in the store-front window of Starbuck's, tonight, and watched people as they passed by, I realized that somehow, somewhere, I had to have missed something crucial.

I looked down at my then luke-warm chow mein, slowly poked at it with my chop-sticks, and muttered something slightly unintelligible. The boys behind me continued talking about the wimpishness of the Vanilla Creme whatever and were oblivious to the truth that was slowly breaking its way through the iciness of my heart. The occasional sound of the blender in the back-ground only added a certain flavor of irony to my current state of mind.

There must be something amazing about the combination of Chick-Fil-A lemonade and Suki Hana chow mein, fried rice, and some kind of "cheekeen" that just makes everything click when mixed with the soothing atmosphere of Starbuck's.

See, everyone else, as they walked in and out, had car keys hanging out of their purse, out of their pockets, off of belt-loops, or simply held lovingly and securely in their hand.

With a sigh of frustration, I gave up with the chopsticks and borrowed a fork from the always understanding staff at Starbuck's. Close to tears now, I mentally retraced my steps for the hundreth time, from the point in eternity that I entered Dillard's, to the current moment.

How I managed to leave my beloved keys behind when everyone else was so attached to theirs is simply beyond me.

Adorned with the bright orange rectangular sign attached to a chain proclaiming boldly to the world "KEYS I HAVEN'T LOST YET" and the Navy Duck, "Harry", with the mocking smile across his bill, their absense made an immense hole in my consciousness.

I felt betrayed, alone, and forgotten.

I don't know how long I sat there, wallowing in self-pity, wondering if I would ever see my keys again. But it seemed an eternity. Then he was there. Dad bravely came to my rescue and sat with me in Starbuck's with only a mere ghost of a smile on his face. I was so happy to see him, though, and I didn't say too much of anything important.

After taking a call from a debate student, we eventually got up and left. Physically, this time, we retraced my steps back to Dillard's and took one last look at the socks. I had given up completely on ever seeing them again.

Dad carefully examined the socks, picking through each one with laser-beam vision. He walked around the stand and carefully picked up two socks as I turned to walk away.

Then, I stopped. I heard the familar clatter of plastic and steele.

I turned, with a wide grin on my face and a slight tremor of voice: "YOU FOUND THEM!!"


All's well that ends well.

In the night, his song shall be with me...

Why?

The evil one word question that manages to plague everyone during multiple points in time over emotions of varrying degrees of goodness.


[Please note that I'm preaching more at myself than anyone else. I just felt the need to express it in writing. It seems to make things a bit more solid at times.]

You tend to ask yourself "why" over and over again when you've done nothing, and yet the result was so opposite of what you expected. (And do please note that the results can be both good and simply not so good. I am convinced that for a child of God, there is no bad.)

I have found that there are times when that question actually does some good and provides a mechanism for making yourself think about the root of whatever issue that's just been bothering you.

Sometimes, however, the question is merely an expression of helplessness over a situation, circumstances, or precepts that cannot be altered.

In that case, rather than torturing yourself with what you did or did not do, I've come to realize that there's nothing to be done about the past. The future is still in the future, and all you've got is the present. Certainly learn from the past. But don't obsess over something that cannot be changed.

Socrates once said that "the unexamined life is not worth living." And he's quite right. One must know most of the why's and wherefores of life, otherwise, there's no point.

But when you've hit a brick wall on something that cannot be changed no matter how you look at it, smile and realize that you live and learn. Hurt and happiness come and go, but joy is a constant when your eyes are on God.


So even though life gets tough and feels like you're playing the violin in public and learning the instrument as you go on, or you toss and turn at night wondering "why? why me?", as long as your focus is Christ "Yet the Lord will command his lovingkindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life."




My love to you all, and welcome to my site.