Ok, this makes sense; I don't know why I didn't see it before now. Fey are tall, dark and thin and possess magick naturally. Islanders are short, pale and stocky, and possess no magick. However, look at Scavenger, the Fey red cap. He's dark complected and has the angular, sharp features of a Fey, but he's short, like and Islander - even shorter actually, more like a dwarf class in a traditional fantasy novel. By all accounts he is essentially a shortened, stocky, squashed version of a Fey; or a dark, angular featured version of an Islander. Also, Islanders are naturally magickless people, and Scavenger never 'came into his magick', which makes him similar to Islanders in more ways than just his physical appearance. He is a red cap, the lowliest of the Fey, barely even recognized as a feeling, thinking being. Along with others of his kind, he has been relegated to the lowest class of Fey society, forced into doing the dirtiest, nastiest, most undesirable jobs that none of the other Fey will deign to perform. Since he'll never be able to perform any magick at all, he does the next best thing - he learns as much about it as he can.
Lets have a look at Matthius now. Matthius is is tall and thin for an Islander, and like Scavenger, he also is an outcast among his own people. However, unlike Scavenger, Matthius was able to progress in his society through the multi-leveled ranks Roccanism, the religion of the Islanders, ultimately assuming the title of Holy Sir - The Rocca, Beloved of God - much like the role of the Pope in Catholicism. He becomes the leader in the fight against the Fey and discovers that Holy Water will kill them, which reinforces the strength of their religion. Also, out of a race of people who have absolutely no knowledge or awareness of magick, Matthius comes to possess a powerful magick that he doesn't understand and doesn't want. He belongs to the most powerful class of magick wielders... he's an enchanter. Realizing that he might have something in common with the demon Fey, Matthius is offended to the core of his soul and develops a deep hatred for them. He eventually loses his faith and abjures his title of The Rocca. However, upon becoming Rocca, the secret of Holy Water was passed down to him, making him the only person on Blue Isle with the knowledge of how to make it. Having discovered that Holy Water, the only surviving secret of Roccanism, can be used as an extremely powerful weapon against the Fey, Matthius devotes his life to re-discovering the lost secrets, which he believes can be used to develop new and more powerful weapons against the Fey.
Now, considering the disparities between these two outcasts and their respective races, the obvious conclusion is that Islander and Fey must have interbred generations ago. But what about Coulter? He's a regular Islander. Maybe a little taller than the average Islander, but by no means does he stand out, and he is regarded as perfectly normal by other Islanders - except that he is also an enchanter. It becomes apparent that Coulter has the potential to be the most powerful enchanter who has ever lived, possibly even more powerful than Matthius.
Now I have to think about Scavenger's role in all of this, based on the fact that Matthius, who was born to a race of supposedly magickless beings, is an extremely powerful magick wielder. He is also is tall for his kind, resembling a Fey in all appearances except his skin color and facial features. Might not Scavenger, a Fey who is short for his kind, resembling an Islander in all but skin color and facial features, 'come into his magick' at some point, as Matthius is in the process of doing?
Here's how I imagine the series ending. Matthius, who hates Fey with all of his being and is loathe to consider that he might be magickal, like them, is eventually consumed by his hatred. Although Coulter and Matthius are technically on the same side - they're both Islanders, after all - Coulter probably dies while trying to prevent Matthius from doing something horribly stupid. Most likely, out of his extreme fear and hatred of the Fey, Matthius will try to kill King Nicholas's half Fey children, Gift and Arianna, as he killed their Fey mother, Jewel. Jewel was the only Fey who ever tried to arrive at a peaceful solution to the problem by marrying Nicholas, the King of Blue Isle, thus uniting the two empires in marriage. So, Coulter probably dies fighting for the Islanders and defending the rightful heirs to the throne of Blue Isle. Scavenger, who was outcast by the Fey and accepted by the Islanders, comes into his magick at a critical point when all seems lost. Since he has studied magick all of his life, when he finally comes into it, he is instantly just as powerful as Coulter - more so, actually, as Coulter didn't have Scavengers intimate knowledge of Fey magick. Scavenger wields his new found magickal powers to defeat Matthius, saving Gift and Arianna, but he probably dies while doing so. However, he dies happy, finally having been able to wield magick.
It'll be interesting seeing how different or similar the story turns out.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Some words
I’m in love with someone now, and it pretty much hurts all the time… no, not always. But it’s a constant pain. How can I describe it? It does hurt all the time, but it doesn’t. Anyway. I think of ways that I can change who I am, ways that I can not be myself, to try to be a person who she would love, and I always realize that would be fruitless. It would just be wrong. Either she loves me for who I am… either we are supposed to be together, or not. It is what it is.
I despair sometimes because of it, because it hurts so bad. Most people know what heartache feels like, so I’m probably not saying anything that’s completely foreign here. But praying does help, because even though the love of God is hard to grasp, it’s there and it’s what we really need above all else. Even above the love of the person who we love, who we think we need more than anything else.
When she broke up with me, I was basically dead for a while… that is, I didn’t really live, I just breathed and ate and moved and slept. I walked around a lot. I cried a lot, which was kind of like living. I prayed a lot. I discovered prayer because that’s all I knew to do, was to pray. I found myself walking around one night, saying the Jesus Prayer over and over again, like it was a tape recorder in my chest just coming out of my mouth, set on repeat. I wasn’t really conscious of it, I just decided to do it, and I shuffled around for miles and hours like that, saying it over and over, hundreds of times.
What happened was I stopped suddenly after a long time of doing this, and I felt like a curtain had been lifted from my face. I felt a very soft, very very soft, but growing joy, growing in my heart. It took about 5 minutes to grow up into something I recognized as ‘not dead’. It got my attention and I started walking again, saying the prayer, realizing that I was saying it. And it grew and grew and the joy grew and grew, and then I felt a pain in my heart. It hurt in my heart, and I had to double over for a second and stop. It hurt there, and it was joy too.
I walked home like this, full of joy and knowing that everything was ok, with this thing in my heart like a needle, poking it and making it hurt like a dull white hot fire. But it was a good hurt. If pain can be described as good, that’s what it felt like. I walked home like that and went to bed when I got home, lying on my side, spasming now and then with the pain in my heart. I went to bed with a joyous smile on my face, knowing that God had given me His promise and was counting on me to remember it.
That time has passed and despair is here again a lot, but I remember that promise. I know it’s possible to feel God’s joy. That was the greatest gift I’ve ever received, and I believe.
I despair sometimes because of it, because it hurts so bad. Most people know what heartache feels like, so I’m probably not saying anything that’s completely foreign here. But praying does help, because even though the love of God is hard to grasp, it’s there and it’s what we really need above all else. Even above the love of the person who we love, who we think we need more than anything else.
When she broke up with me, I was basically dead for a while… that is, I didn’t really live, I just breathed and ate and moved and slept. I walked around a lot. I cried a lot, which was kind of like living. I prayed a lot. I discovered prayer because that’s all I knew to do, was to pray. I found myself walking around one night, saying the Jesus Prayer over and over again, like it was a tape recorder in my chest just coming out of my mouth, set on repeat. I wasn’t really conscious of it, I just decided to do it, and I shuffled around for miles and hours like that, saying it over and over, hundreds of times.
What happened was I stopped suddenly after a long time of doing this, and I felt like a curtain had been lifted from my face. I felt a very soft, very very soft, but growing joy, growing in my heart. It took about 5 minutes to grow up into something I recognized as ‘not dead’. It got my attention and I started walking again, saying the prayer, realizing that I was saying it. And it grew and grew and the joy grew and grew, and then I felt a pain in my heart. It hurt in my heart, and I had to double over for a second and stop. It hurt there, and it was joy too.
I walked home like this, full of joy and knowing that everything was ok, with this thing in my heart like a needle, poking it and making it hurt like a dull white hot fire. But it was a good hurt. If pain can be described as good, that’s what it felt like. I walked home like that and went to bed when I got home, lying on my side, spasming now and then with the pain in my heart. I went to bed with a joyous smile on my face, knowing that God had given me His promise and was counting on me to remember it.
That time has passed and despair is here again a lot, but I remember that promise. I know it’s possible to feel God’s joy. That was the greatest gift I’ve ever received, and I believe.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Gibberish
Every now and then lately, the enemy chooses to attack me with a full on, frontal assault. These attacks are almost always completely unexpected. At one moment I'll be in a good mood, enjoying the passing moments with a light heart and a skippity step, when suddenly and with no warning my world comes crashing down. My reaction is invariably, WTF? WHY? These attacks always occur at my weak spot too. Where else to stage an attack? The weak spot, the spot that's in the process of being hurriedly reinforced. The strategic spot. The crack in the defenses.
The problem is age old and boring. Especially for me, since it keeps occurring over and over... and I think that's because it's such a hard problem to solve. It's boring and impossible, like algebra. Yet I've always wished I was good at math; said that I'd trade all of my artistic talent for math talent... go figure. So this is my weak spot. Such an easy spot for the enemy to take advantage of and try to insert some corruption, because that's where the pride and ego and self pity and anger and all that crap reside. But it's also where all the good things are... all those loves that just want to be pristine and real.
So, yeah. I bet it all of this would make a good war movie/romantic comedy/spy thriller. A blending of genres. I could do it, I could write a script for it. It would have to be a cartoon though.
The problem is age old and boring. Especially for me, since it keeps occurring over and over... and I think that's because it's such a hard problem to solve. It's boring and impossible, like algebra. Yet I've always wished I was good at math; said that I'd trade all of my artistic talent for math talent... go figure. So this is my weak spot. Such an easy spot for the enemy to take advantage of and try to insert some corruption, because that's where the pride and ego and self pity and anger and all that crap reside. But it's also where all the good things are... all those loves that just want to be pristine and real.
So, yeah. I bet it all of this would make a good war movie/romantic comedy/spy thriller. A blending of genres. I could do it, I could write a script for it. It would have to be a cartoon though.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
A dream - possession
I was watching a girl as she was seduced by a demon. This demon was leading her into a hole in the ground, overgrown and nasty with worms and filth. The girl was just staring into space with this vacant smile as she was pulled into this hole, thinking that all was right, everything was ok, and that she was meeting with her lover; totally unaware that a demon was about to have his way with her.
Later I was at Brittney's apartment. We were both supposed to be at work, but we were goofing off instead. I was in her bed, wrapped up in sheets, as if I had just awoken. I saw a bus arrive outside through the window, and Brittney said that her ride was here and she had to go. Somebody from the bus knocked at the door, and Brittney left. After that, a friend of hers showed up and came in. He saw me in the bed, and I immediately thought... this isn't what it looks like. Why am I in bed? I'm not even dressed. I was embarrassed and tried to get dressed under the covers. I explained to the guy that I had to work, so I left hurriedly.
As I was walking to work, I followed the girl who had been seduced by the demon. She was like a zombie now, and her face was rotting and her hair was made of worms. Instead of going to work though, I followed her to a carnival. When I got there, I lost track of her and became frightened. I walked up to a food stand and ordered a hot dog, which they advertised as being made with 'religious bread'. Like the sacraments. I paid seven dollars for one, and then the zombie girl showed up again. I ran away from her, but she was very fast and ran ahead of me and turned to face me. She had become this silvery molten metal type creature, and started throwing razor discs at me. I fended them off with a metal object I had in my hand. I hit each disc as it came, and one got through and cut me. At this point I started collecting the discs that hadn't hit me, and I assembled them into one large, incomplete razor disc. One piece was missing. I ran back to the carnival and the metallic zombie girl was chasing me. I hid behind an open door, and the zombie girl ran into the room that the door led to. I slung the razor disc into the room and heard an incredible scream. I looked in and saw that I had mutilated an innocent little girl.
Later I was at Brittney's apartment. We were both supposed to be at work, but we were goofing off instead. I was in her bed, wrapped up in sheets, as if I had just awoken. I saw a bus arrive outside through the window, and Brittney said that her ride was here and she had to go. Somebody from the bus knocked at the door, and Brittney left. After that, a friend of hers showed up and came in. He saw me in the bed, and I immediately thought... this isn't what it looks like. Why am I in bed? I'm not even dressed. I was embarrassed and tried to get dressed under the covers. I explained to the guy that I had to work, so I left hurriedly.
As I was walking to work, I followed the girl who had been seduced by the demon. She was like a zombie now, and her face was rotting and her hair was made of worms. Instead of going to work though, I followed her to a carnival. When I got there, I lost track of her and became frightened. I walked up to a food stand and ordered a hot dog, which they advertised as being made with 'religious bread'. Like the sacraments. I paid seven dollars for one, and then the zombie girl showed up again. I ran away from her, but she was very fast and ran ahead of me and turned to face me. She had become this silvery molten metal type creature, and started throwing razor discs at me. I fended them off with a metal object I had in my hand. I hit each disc as it came, and one got through and cut me. At this point I started collecting the discs that hadn't hit me, and I assembled them into one large, incomplete razor disc. One piece was missing. I ran back to the carnival and the metallic zombie girl was chasing me. I hid behind an open door, and the zombie girl ran into the room that the door led to. I slung the razor disc into the room and heard an incredible scream. I looked in and saw that I had mutilated an innocent little girl.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Matrix Robes
I'm supposed to start reading soon at church. I think I might want to be tonsured, so I can get one of those cool Matrix robes. I told Chey that's probably a rotten reason to want to be tonsured, and she said, "Nah, God finds ways to pull you in certain directions." That makes sense... I mean, look at my life now. Still, I want one of those robes. I can see the upcoming action pic - me in the Matrix Robe with Matrix shades, wielding the Gospels with a kung fu grip.
No time to do it now, I have to get my daily dose of http://www.wimp.com/hyperkitten/
Maybe after work.
No time to do it now, I have to get my daily dose of http://www.wimp.com/hyperkitten/
Maybe after work.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
My Usual Day
9:00 - Oh crap, another day. Well, lets see... (mental arithmetic)... 5 hours until work. I can mess around doing nothing 'till then. YAY!
11:30 - Hmmm, lets see... (mental arithmetic)... 2 and a half hours till work. Did 2 and a half hours just go by that fast?
1:00 - Crap. Time to start getting ready. Not really.
1:45 - Crap. Time to start getting ready. Really.
2:07 - WORK! I mean... work.
4:30 - Ok I'm done ordering beer. What, it's only 4:30? I've only been here for 2 and a half hours? I mean, 2 hours and 23 minutes?
6:00 - Hey (Brittney or Mattius), it's already 6:00! (geez, it's only 6:00?)
8:00 - Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy boy 2 hours left...
9:00 - Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap 1 hour left!
9:55 - 3rd shift will show up any minute now, any minute now...
10:00 - Where is third shift? Well, I was late, so I can't complain until 10:07
10:07 - OK WHERE THE HECK IS THIRD SHIFT?????!!!!!! :( :( :( :(
10:08 - (Stephen or Saqib show up) MY HERO!
10:15 - SHIFT CHANGE! I'M LEGALLY FREE TO GO! But I have to stock the cooler.
10:45 - FREE! Later pertaters!
11:00 - Lets see... 15 hours until work...
11:30 - Hmmm, lets see... (mental arithmetic)... 2 and a half hours till work. Did 2 and a half hours just go by that fast?
1:00 - Crap. Time to start getting ready. Not really.
1:45 - Crap. Time to start getting ready. Really.
2:07 - WORK! I mean... work.
4:30 - Ok I'm done ordering beer. What, it's only 4:30? I've only been here for 2 and a half hours? I mean, 2 hours and 23 minutes?
6:00 - Hey (Brittney or Mattius), it's already 6:00! (geez, it's only 6:00?)
8:00 - Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy boy 2 hours left...
9:00 - Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap 1 hour left!
9:55 - 3rd shift will show up any minute now, any minute now...
10:00 - Where is third shift? Well, I was late, so I can't complain until 10:07
10:07 - OK WHERE THE HECK IS THIRD SHIFT?????!!!!!! :( :( :( :(
10:08 - (Stephen or Saqib show up) MY HERO!
10:15 - SHIFT CHANGE! I'M LEGALLY FREE TO GO! But I have to stock the cooler.
10:45 - FREE! Later pertaters!
11:00 - Lets see... 15 hours until work...
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A good thing
Poor Chiy. And poor Lin too. The roads are so icy, and Chiy and Lin didn't get home last night until midnight (they live in The Colony) and had to get up at 4:00 am to be at the 7-Eleven by 6:00 am. He was dog tired today, and I was dog tired today. He asked me to work late last night because Saqib called off, but I had an 8:00 am liturgy this morning (I didn't know it was cancelled until I got there and the church doors were locked), and he felt so bad about asking me to work that he bought me a pack of cigarettes and gave me a warm hat to wear when I walk to and from work.
Today it wasn't nearly as busy, but Brittney called off and Chiy and Lin (Lin is Chiy's wife) had to work a double shift because Chiy just absolutely will not leave anyone at the store alone (unlike Terry, who just didn't give a flip, even if a woman was working alone in the middle of the night). So both of those guys worked with me today, a 16 hour shift. Every now and then Chiy would smile real big at me and open his eyes wide, pointing to the bags and the red, and say "16 hour! I work 16 hour today! You see how tired I am?"
So tonight we all got to leave at about 10:00, and Chiy and Lin had that drive to The Colony to look forward to, and another 6:00 am morning at 7-Eleven. Those guys just work their asses off, and they're always smiling too. I'm fortunate that I'm working there now, because I would never have benefited from knowing Chiy. He's a good person.
Today it wasn't nearly as busy, but Brittney called off and Chiy and Lin (Lin is Chiy's wife) had to work a double shift because Chiy just absolutely will not leave anyone at the store alone (unlike Terry, who just didn't give a flip, even if a woman was working alone in the middle of the night). So both of those guys worked with me today, a 16 hour shift. Every now and then Chiy would smile real big at me and open his eyes wide, pointing to the bags and the red, and say "16 hour! I work 16 hour today! You see how tired I am?"
So tonight we all got to leave at about 10:00, and Chiy and Lin had that drive to The Colony to look forward to, and another 6:00 am morning at 7-Eleven. Those guys just work their asses off, and they're always smiling too. I'm fortunate that I'm working there now, because I would never have benefited from knowing Chiy. He's a good person.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Weather Man to the rescue
I've been doing the beer ordering at work, and now we're almost out of all of the popular beer. I figure that we'll just barely have enough to last until the beer delivery tomorrow. I was relating this to Brittney and she commented on how Chiy will probably freak out and have a major anxiety attack. I thought about this and realized that as opposed to having an anxiety attack, Chiy should be jumping up and down for joy, because what this means is that I nailed the forecast! I actually saved Chiy money! So Brittney said, "If he starts to give you a hard time, just say to him, 'Chill, Chiy, I'm the weatherman!' " This is just beyond awesome.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
This is way hard
Today at church Chris was there to help me sing tenor, and that made a world of difference. I really don't like being the only one singing tenor during the Sunday morning Liturgy, as I'm not very good at it. It's mostly just middle C for the first 30 minutes, and that really wears out my voice. Middle C, for me, sits right there where my voice breaks, and I'm constantly having to 'split' my voice back and forth between the lower and upper registers. The problem really isn't my range, because I'm just fine with hitting those high notes for the first minute or two. After that however, it gets really tiring and I have to take a break for a couple of measures or my voice will just flat out quit. I wonder if there's an exercise I can do to give myself more endurance? I think there might be more to it than that however, because I don't really remember having this hard of a time with range and endurance about a year ago, around last Pascha, and before.
It might have to do with the fact that I haven't exactly been my happy self for the past 10 or so months, and I don't think it's just affected my voice. My change in behavior is probably apparent to people who had gotten to know me when they (and I) thought I was happy. I know that I'm not as confident and reliable and optimistic as I used to be. Take Dax, for instance. All before and leading up to around my last birthday, I felt like he and I were actually getting to know each other and were on our way to becoming friends. I had achieved a rudimentary comfort zone with him, and he even talked about making me the choir director some day. I even asked him to be my Godfather based on this blossoming friendship between us that I perceived. Dax used to seem as though he actually liked me, and maybe even respected me a little.
Now things are different. I've had the feeling for a while now that Dax doesn't really like me anymore. He doesn't feel like the potential friend that he used to; more like someone who is just irritated with me as a general rule. I think I've let Dax down because I've turned out not to be the person he thought I was a year ago; someone who was more confident, more outgoing, and more of a positive social creature. Someone who would eventually take over the job of choir director so that he could assume the duties of sub-deacon. Now I feel like he sees me as this big let down; an irresponsible 'dud' with no backbone who collapses under pressure when the going gets rough - someone he thought he could rely on but, as it turns out, he can't.
After coffee hour today we had a choir meeting and Dax got onto all of us for skipping rehearsals and services, and he made it clear to us that being in the choir was a privilege. I got the feeling that he was using this time to talk openly to us so that he could communicate all of this to me, personally. Maybe that's kind of far fetched, but I haven't been to a lot of services lately, and Dax has been particularly blunt to me the last few times I've asked him questions or interacted with him. I get the impression from Dax that everything that is wrong with the choir is my fault - that I'm the only one who ever messes up, and that everything will just go to hell in a hand basket if I'm not there. I'm probably imagining most of that, but it seems as if he is disappointed in me, not only for missing services that I could have attended, but also for the ones that I just can't attend because of work. When I told him that I couldn't find anyone to work for me on one of those nights during the Nativity fast when the male choir was performing, he said that if I couldn't make it then we'd just have to cancel the whole thing, because nobody else could sing alto or read treble clef. Was that really the case? Was there no way around the situation at all? Does it all really hinge on me, or is this his way of expressing his disappointment in me because I didn't live up to his expectations? Probably not, but it feels that way sometimes.
Anywho, after Dax had finished chastising all of us, Fr. Justin told us that he appreciated the sacrifice that we were all making by actually being in the choir. I felt like he was recognizing the fact that being in the choir isn't just a walk in the park, and that it's hard trying to hold up your own soul while feeling responsible for holding up the souls of others too. At least, that's what I got out of it, and his saying so made me feel a lot better - so much so that after the meeting I somehow wound up as one of the new readers. Am I merely befuddled, or overtly bamboozled?
Wow... sometimes I marvel at my level of involvement with the church; what with my being a member of two separate choirs, and now a reader, too. Why am I putting myself through all of this, when it would be so much easier to just show up to services, stand anonymously and safely with the congregation, take communion, make sure my own soul is ok, and then just go home? Why am I putting myself through all of this worry and responsibility for the well being of others? How did I wind up here, this deeply entrenched in the inner workings? This level of social involvement goes against every facet of my personality... I never would have imagined this for myself. But then again, a little over two years ago I never would have imagined that I would be baptized right now and even going to church to begin with. I guess God has a plan for me, and I should be thankful. And I am thankful... it's just that this is way hard to do and sometimes it, like, hurts and stuff.
But then again, I'm probably just being a whining, bitchy little titty baby.
It might have to do with the fact that I haven't exactly been my happy self for the past 10 or so months, and I don't think it's just affected my voice. My change in behavior is probably apparent to people who had gotten to know me when they (and I) thought I was happy. I know that I'm not as confident and reliable and optimistic as I used to be. Take Dax, for instance. All before and leading up to around my last birthday, I felt like he and I were actually getting to know each other and were on our way to becoming friends. I had achieved a rudimentary comfort zone with him, and he even talked about making me the choir director some day. I even asked him to be my Godfather based on this blossoming friendship between us that I perceived. Dax used to seem as though he actually liked me, and maybe even respected me a little.
Now things are different. I've had the feeling for a while now that Dax doesn't really like me anymore. He doesn't feel like the potential friend that he used to; more like someone who is just irritated with me as a general rule. I think I've let Dax down because I've turned out not to be the person he thought I was a year ago; someone who was more confident, more outgoing, and more of a positive social creature. Someone who would eventually take over the job of choir director so that he could assume the duties of sub-deacon. Now I feel like he sees me as this big let down; an irresponsible 'dud' with no backbone who collapses under pressure when the going gets rough - someone he thought he could rely on but, as it turns out, he can't.
After coffee hour today we had a choir meeting and Dax got onto all of us for skipping rehearsals and services, and he made it clear to us that being in the choir was a privilege. I got the feeling that he was using this time to talk openly to us so that he could communicate all of this to me, personally. Maybe that's kind of far fetched, but I haven't been to a lot of services lately, and Dax has been particularly blunt to me the last few times I've asked him questions or interacted with him. I get the impression from Dax that everything that is wrong with the choir is my fault - that I'm the only one who ever messes up, and that everything will just go to hell in a hand basket if I'm not there. I'm probably imagining most of that, but it seems as if he is disappointed in me, not only for missing services that I could have attended, but also for the ones that I just can't attend because of work. When I told him that I couldn't find anyone to work for me on one of those nights during the Nativity fast when the male choir was performing, he said that if I couldn't make it then we'd just have to cancel the whole thing, because nobody else could sing alto or read treble clef. Was that really the case? Was there no way around the situation at all? Does it all really hinge on me, or is this his way of expressing his disappointment in me because I didn't live up to his expectations? Probably not, but it feels that way sometimes.
Anywho, after Dax had finished chastising all of us, Fr. Justin told us that he appreciated the sacrifice that we were all making by actually being in the choir. I felt like he was recognizing the fact that being in the choir isn't just a walk in the park, and that it's hard trying to hold up your own soul while feeling responsible for holding up the souls of others too. At least, that's what I got out of it, and his saying so made me feel a lot better - so much so that after the meeting I somehow wound up as one of the new readers. Am I merely befuddled, or overtly bamboozled?
Wow... sometimes I marvel at my level of involvement with the church; what with my being a member of two separate choirs, and now a reader, too. Why am I putting myself through all of this, when it would be so much easier to just show up to services, stand anonymously and safely with the congregation, take communion, make sure my own soul is ok, and then just go home? Why am I putting myself through all of this worry and responsibility for the well being of others? How did I wind up here, this deeply entrenched in the inner workings? This level of social involvement goes against every facet of my personality... I never would have imagined this for myself. But then again, a little over two years ago I never would have imagined that I would be baptized right now and even going to church to begin with. I guess God has a plan for me, and I should be thankful. And I am thankful... it's just that this is way hard to do and sometimes it, like, hurts and stuff.
But then again, I'm probably just being a whining, bitchy little titty baby.
My Name Day
Tomorrow is my name day, also known as a feast day. It is the specific day of the year associated with my Orthodox Christian namesake, Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis, also known as St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr. I refer to him as St. Elias the New.
Monday, January 31, 2011 (Feast Day)
Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis
St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr
Saint Elias the New was a barber in the town of Kalamata in the Peloponnesos region of Greece and was much respected for his shrewd good sense by the Turkish officials of the place. One day, when the latter had come to see him, Elias urged them to do all they could to reduce the burden of tax on Christians, or many would be lead to deny their Christian faith and become Muslim merely so that they would be relieved financially. The discussion grew heated and Elias was carried away to the extent of declaring, almost jokingly, that he himself was inclined to deny his faith in return for a fez. One of the Turks took him at his word and handed him the headgear, whereupon poor, benighted Elias adhered to Islam in the presence of the judge and to the sorrow of the local Christians.
Not long after, he was moved to repentance and traveled to Mount Athos. There he found a spiritual father and confessed with many tears his apostasy and once again acknowledged Orthodoxy; he was also chrismated and received the Body and Blood of Christ. Elias eventually became a monk on Mount Athos, where he lead a virtuous life for eight years. However, as he could not attain peace of conscience, he received the blessing of his spiritual father to return to Kalamata to confess his Christianity, which he knew would almost certainly lead to his martyrdom.
Elias returned to Kalamata and made his presence known by walking around the bazaars of the Turks. When he was called Moustafa and questioned about why he was gone for so long, he responded he was no longer Moustafa (the Muslim name given to him at the time of his unwilling conversion) but an Orthodox Christian. He was then presented before the judge and confessed Christ in like manner. After two sessions of questioning, he was condemned to be burned to death in a slow fire. When he was thrown into flames, he was spared a burning death and suffocated almost immediately, leaving his hair, beard and monastic robes miraculously untouched by the flames. This occurred on January 31, 1686. That night a heavenly light appeared over his body, and for which it was said by the Christians that since the earthly fire could not burn him that God sent his heavenly light to do the job.
The local Christians buried his body with great devotion, and a church was later built over his tomb. His skull is in the Holy Monastery of Voulkanou in Messinia.
Monday, January 31, 2011 (Feast Day)
Holy New Martyr Elias Ardounis
St. Elias Ardounis the Neomartyr
Saint Elias the New was a barber in the town of Kalamata in the Peloponnesos region of Greece and was much respected for his shrewd good sense by the Turkish officials of the place. One day, when the latter had come to see him, Elias urged them to do all they could to reduce the burden of tax on Christians, or many would be lead to deny their Christian faith and become Muslim merely so that they would be relieved financially. The discussion grew heated and Elias was carried away to the extent of declaring, almost jokingly, that he himself was inclined to deny his faith in return for a fez. One of the Turks took him at his word and handed him the headgear, whereupon poor, benighted Elias adhered to Islam in the presence of the judge and to the sorrow of the local Christians.
Not long after, he was moved to repentance and traveled to Mount Athos. There he found a spiritual father and confessed with many tears his apostasy and once again acknowledged Orthodoxy; he was also chrismated and received the Body and Blood of Christ. Elias eventually became a monk on Mount Athos, where he lead a virtuous life for eight years. However, as he could not attain peace of conscience, he received the blessing of his spiritual father to return to Kalamata to confess his Christianity, which he knew would almost certainly lead to his martyrdom.
Elias returned to Kalamata and made his presence known by walking around the bazaars of the Turks. When he was called Moustafa and questioned about why he was gone for so long, he responded he was no longer Moustafa (the Muslim name given to him at the time of his unwilling conversion) but an Orthodox Christian. He was then presented before the judge and confessed Christ in like manner. After two sessions of questioning, he was condemned to be burned to death in a slow fire. When he was thrown into flames, he was spared a burning death and suffocated almost immediately, leaving his hair, beard and monastic robes miraculously untouched by the flames. This occurred on January 31, 1686. That night a heavenly light appeared over his body, and for which it was said by the Christians that since the earthly fire could not burn him that God sent his heavenly light to do the job.
The local Christians buried his body with great devotion, and a church was later built over his tomb. His skull is in the Holy Monastery of Voulkanou in Messinia.
Sundries. No, not Sun Dries. Sundries, plural for sundry. Argh.
driz
–plural noun
sundry things or items, esp. small, miscellaneous items of little value. Compare notion ( def. 6 ) .
Origin:
1805–15; n. pl. use of sundry
1805–15; n. pl. use of sundry
Saturday, January 29, 2011
An every day journal entry
I've been keeping an online journal for a while. Often I'll be at work or at church or somewhere and experience something I want to write about, and if I had my laptop in front of me right then and there and the spare time, I'd right write then and there about what I'm thinking (I know I screwed up tenses and swapped homophones, and my right and left arrow keys aren't working). Usually I'll forget what I wanted to write about though...
...so anywho, here's just an every day journal entry. Today nothing really that interesting happened. I did discover that my right and left arrow keys aren't working on my keyboard (which is a real pain in the ass, especially when I'm editing blogs in progress) but that's about the most interesting thing. Other than that, I enjoyed a very nice day with both doors open and took the opportunity to air out my room and clean it again, once more arresting the onset of entropy. Then I walked to the store for sundries and came back home. It was an enjoyable walk, with Coldplay running through my head through most of it. A couple of times people honked at me. Sometimes they yell things as they pass like, "Hey man, what's up!" or "Yo whaddup chief!" and "Hey, wassssssup bro!". I work at 7-Eleven, you see, and because I do so much walking in public I have to deal with an odd sort of local fame. Usually I don't recognize these people who recognize me as they zoom by, but I guess that comes with the territory. I imagine it's kind of like being a local newscaster. People know me, but I don't know them.
Later I went to church for vigil but left after the vespers portion because my mood plummeted. That's been happening a lot lately; I'll be feeling ok and then I'll be feeling like crap. No warning, just a sudden drop in mood (sometimes it will go the other way, from crap to ok, but not as often). Heidi usually texts me when this happens, which is inexplicably awesome. I was about to say just now that I am so lucky to have Heidi in my life, but then I realized that luck has nothing to do with it. Thanks, God.
After I left vigil I walked to Wal Mart for more sundries. I don't really know what a sundry is, except that it's a good no-nonsense word to describe what-nots and hoo-jiggers. So, more sundries in hand, I walked back home and downloaded Harry Potter - The Sorcerers Stone and watched it. I haven't seen that movie in about a year and a half, since I first read the book. Two things I've discovered in the past two years - Harry Potter, and The Orthodox Church. Maybe I'll discover two more awesome things during the next two years.
Now it's just about time for bed. Tomorrow I get to take communion again. I need God's medicine right now. Lord, please make my heart a worthy vessel to contain Thy Holy Spirit.
Amen.
...so anywho, here's just an every day journal entry. Today nothing really that interesting happened. I did discover that my right and left arrow keys aren't working on my keyboard (which is a real pain in the ass, especially when I'm editing blogs in progress) but that's about the most interesting thing. Other than that, I enjoyed a very nice day with both doors open and took the opportunity to air out my room and clean it again, once more arresting the onset of entropy. Then I walked to the store for sundries and came back home. It was an enjoyable walk, with Coldplay running through my head through most of it. A couple of times people honked at me. Sometimes they yell things as they pass like, "Hey man, what's up!" or "Yo whaddup chief!" and "Hey, wassssssup bro!". I work at 7-Eleven, you see, and because I do so much walking in public I have to deal with an odd sort of local fame. Usually I don't recognize these people who recognize me as they zoom by, but I guess that comes with the territory. I imagine it's kind of like being a local newscaster. People know me, but I don't know them.
Later I went to church for vigil but left after the vespers portion because my mood plummeted. That's been happening a lot lately; I'll be feeling ok and then I'll be feeling like crap. No warning, just a sudden drop in mood (sometimes it will go the other way, from crap to ok, but not as often). Heidi usually texts me when this happens, which is inexplicably awesome. I was about to say just now that I am so lucky to have Heidi in my life, but then I realized that luck has nothing to do with it. Thanks, God.
After I left vigil I walked to Wal Mart for more sundries. I don't really know what a sundry is, except that it's a good no-nonsense word to describe what-nots and hoo-jiggers. So, more sundries in hand, I walked back home and downloaded Harry Potter - The Sorcerers Stone and watched it. I haven't seen that movie in about a year and a half, since I first read the book. Two things I've discovered in the past two years - Harry Potter, and The Orthodox Church. Maybe I'll discover two more awesome things during the next two years.
Now it's just about time for bed. Tomorrow I get to take communion again. I need God's medicine right now. Lord, please make my heart a worthy vessel to contain Thy Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Friday, January 28, 2011
This day
I felt like ugly crap today when I woke up. It was about 6:00 and I had only been asleep for about 5 hours and I couldn't sleep anymore. Lately I've been waking up early and haven't been able to get back to sleep. I took two benadryls and went back to sleep until 1:30 and woke up feeling groggy and in that half-place where I couldn't sleep anymore but didn't want to be awake. I had one of those big single beers that I brought home last night that I didn't drink, so I drank it right off the bat since it's my day off. I didn't feel any better and my stomach hurt. I wanted to sleep some more but still couldn't.
I stayed awake and Matt and I got into an argument of course, which is the status quo around here so that's no surprise. I forgot what it was about... no, it was about something I was watching online. He was in the living room listening to it, and after it was over, we started talking about it and it turned into an argument. I don't like that, always arguing, but it seems unavoidable that my brother and I always argue when we talk. It doesn't always start out as an argument, but it usually almost always evolves into one. I've come to the conclusion that it's not anybody's fault and that we just don't understand each other. We are like yin and yang. Sometimes I wonder if Matt and I were mortal enemies in a previous life, and are now bound together in this life by karma, destined to always experience our differences so that we can eventually work them out. Pride is one big pain in the ass.
Tonight Matt and I went to Mr. Chopstix. I had shrimp tempura with crab rangoons, and Matt had some kind of beef walnut thing. We started off with some saki and toasted every time we drank. We traded toasts that went like this:
Matt - May every answer always lead to another question :::clink:::
Me - May Ryan be successful with his career after he moves to Waco :::clink:::
Matt - May all gorgeous moments be written down and remembered :::clink:::
Me - May Fr. Justin's daughters grow up happy and without strife :::clink:::
Matt - May we always be who we are no matter where we are :::clink:::
Me - May we not have to worry about typing our toasts into the notepad :::clink:::
(I didn't type Matt's next toast and now I don't remember what it was)
Me - May commercial spaceflight be affordable before we die :::clink:::)
Matt - May we live art as opposed to just doing it :::clink:::
Me - May we always stay cool (personally and comfortably) :::clink:::
And then my paltry little phone ran out of notepad memory. We had a few more toasts that I swore to remember but, of course, I don't.
After that we finished dinner and walked home. We had many other adventures and arguments, ranging from the forced perspective of sidewalk paintings and how they applied to the third Indiana Jones movie, to colored lighting and how it casts shadows in complimentary colors, to the Orion Nebula and BronYrAur. We even explored the front yard of an abandoned house and wondered what was inside. I wanted to go in and look, but that would have been breaking and entering. We went home instead.
We of course had it out again, off and on, many more times. It finally comes down to this moment, and I don't want to think about it anymore. So now I end this night listening to music and waiting to fall asleep.
--------------------------sleep happened--------------------------
And now it's the next day, and it seems like a good day. It's warm and I took a walk to the store to grab some sundries earlier. Something about today - maybe it's the smell of the air outside, or the music in the background of the flash game I have paused, or the temperature and weather - something makes today seem like a nostalgic kind of dejavu of memories, from the old house in East Texas to bits and pieces of various times in Austin to something that I kind put my finger on. A kind of weird positive.
Anyway.
I stayed awake and Matt and I got into an argument of course, which is the status quo around here so that's no surprise. I forgot what it was about... no, it was about something I was watching online. He was in the living room listening to it, and after it was over, we started talking about it and it turned into an argument. I don't like that, always arguing, but it seems unavoidable that my brother and I always argue when we talk. It doesn't always start out as an argument, but it usually almost always evolves into one. I've come to the conclusion that it's not anybody's fault and that we just don't understand each other. We are like yin and yang. Sometimes I wonder if Matt and I were mortal enemies in a previous life, and are now bound together in this life by karma, destined to always experience our differences so that we can eventually work them out. Pride is one big pain in the ass.
Tonight Matt and I went to Mr. Chopstix. I had shrimp tempura with crab rangoons, and Matt had some kind of beef walnut thing. We started off with some saki and toasted every time we drank. We traded toasts that went like this:
Matt - May every answer always lead to another question :::clink:::
Me - May Ryan be successful with his career after he moves to Waco :::clink:::
Matt - May all gorgeous moments be written down and remembered :::clink:::
Me - May Fr. Justin's daughters grow up happy and without strife :::clink:::
Matt - May we always be who we are no matter where we are :::clink:::
Me - May we not have to worry about typing our toasts into the notepad :::clink:::
(I didn't type Matt's next toast and now I don't remember what it was)
Me - May commercial spaceflight be affordable before we die :::clink:::)
Matt - May we live art as opposed to just doing it :::clink:::
Me - May we always stay cool (personally and comfortably) :::clink:::
And then my paltry little phone ran out of notepad memory. We had a few more toasts that I swore to remember but, of course, I don't.
After that we finished dinner and walked home. We had many other adventures and arguments, ranging from the forced perspective of sidewalk paintings and how they applied to the third Indiana Jones movie, to colored lighting and how it casts shadows in complimentary colors, to the Orion Nebula and BronYrAur. We even explored the front yard of an abandoned house and wondered what was inside. I wanted to go in and look, but that would have been breaking and entering. We went home instead.
We of course had it out again, off and on, many more times. It finally comes down to this moment, and I don't want to think about it anymore. So now I end this night listening to music and waiting to fall asleep.
--------------------------sleep happened--------------------------
And now it's the next day, and it seems like a good day. It's warm and I took a walk to the store to grab some sundries earlier. Something about today - maybe it's the smell of the air outside, or the music in the background of the flash game I have paused, or the temperature and weather - something makes today seem like a nostalgic kind of dejavu of memories, from the old house in East Texas to bits and pieces of various times in Austin to something that I kind put my finger on. A kind of weird positive.
Anyway.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Happy - part 1
Yesterday was wonderful. I felt inexplicably good all day, for no real reason. Giddy almost, kind of like how I used to feel before I ever used any substances to get high, when natural good moods were a common part of my life. Today was the opposite. I was depressed all day. Maybe what brought it on was the anxiety pill I took this morning when I woke up at 7:00 and couldn't sleep. I was groggy all day and it turned into a black pit of depression. I'm coming out of it a little now. Prayers now, and then sleep, I think, and tomorrow is a new day.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Plans within plans
I went to confession Saturday night after vigil for the first time since November 5th. During those three months my spiritual life really suffered, as it's very easy to let inertia take over when I start to mess up in my spiritual life. The enemy is always looking for a way to grab hold and do some damage, and that he did (with my cooperation, of course... I'm not trying to escape responsibility for my own actions). All of the trouble started right at the beginning of the Nativity Fast, when I was still feeling good about church. I had told Fr. Justin on a Wednesday evening that I would help out with the liturgy the next morning, but I overslept and missed it. As a result, I felt rotten for letting Fr. Justin down, and it just got worse and worse as I began to miss regular services. It was very easy for the enemy to take over after that, and when I stopped fighting I instead began punishing myself undeservedly by skipping services and putting off confession. In this way I could do maximum damage to myself for the inexcusable crime of oversleeping and breaking my promise to Fr. Justin.
At some point during my self-imposed excommunication, I began to discover that there is a direct correlation between feelings of anger, jealousy, self pity and self righteousness, and the nosedive my spiritual life was taking. When I got back from Alaska, I was terrified of a certain situation I knew that I had to face (which I won't go into), but I was also excited about going back to church and being in communion again. As it turned out, things weren't as awful as I had feared, and I was even able to deal with complications relating to this certain situation in a more or less positive manner. However, my ability to deal with that situation deteriorated the longer I was out of communion until I found myself in a state of emotional wreckage.
Now I'm back in communion and I'm hoping that things will improve again with my ability to deal with this situation. Once again I've subjected myself to a kind of self-imposed exile - not from communion, but from that certain situation. I'm probably punishing myself now too, because I don't want to do what I'm doing and it's going to hurt. However, I'm hoping that by removing myself from the situation I'm also removing my own potential to cause pain in others. I see a possible time in the future when I might just remove myself completely from society and join a monastery. The more I think about that, the more I wonder if that's what God has planned for me. I've always been extremely shy, and it's difficult for me to form relationships with people and maintain them. I'm also not a very good communicator, I think, because I haven't had a lot of practice, and misunderstandings are frequent with people who are close to me. The simple, ordered life of a monastic would probably be the perfect place for a person with my type of personality. Simplicity in life is something I've always craved, as I've always only just been able to deal with the burdens and complications of living in modern society without completely collapsing.
I believe that God puts us in situations, even terrible, painful, hurtful ones, to lead us eventually to where we are supposed to be. I never would have become an Orthodox Christian if it weren't for my attraction to the person who led me there. There was no other way to drag me into a church than to be led there by my selfish desire for the love of someone else, and God knew this. I never would have even met the person who brought me to Orthodoxy though if I hadn't gone through all of the misery I've experienced with addiction, because my decision to apply for the job where I met her was one of desperation, a desperation which arose from being unmotivated, unemployed and depressed because of my problems with addiction. I could go back even further, linking together all of my bad mistakes and painful experiences (and good ones) that comprised the crucial events which described what I thought had been a terrible life up until the winter of 2008, which ultimately led me to the church.
So now I have my current situation to deal with, another painful one. However, based on the evidence of my past and where it led me, I have to believe that this too is part of God's plan to take me further into the future and closer to His will. Maybe it will lead me to a monastic life. Maybe I'll learn enough from it so that I'll actually be married some day and capable of being a good husband and father and priest for my family. I don't know, but in the meantime I can hold on to my faith and to the belief that everything is going to be alright.
At some point during my self-imposed excommunication, I began to discover that there is a direct correlation between feelings of anger, jealousy, self pity and self righteousness, and the nosedive my spiritual life was taking. When I got back from Alaska, I was terrified of a certain situation I knew that I had to face (which I won't go into), but I was also excited about going back to church and being in communion again. As it turned out, things weren't as awful as I had feared, and I was even able to deal with complications relating to this certain situation in a more or less positive manner. However, my ability to deal with that situation deteriorated the longer I was out of communion until I found myself in a state of emotional wreckage.
Now I'm back in communion and I'm hoping that things will improve again with my ability to deal with this situation. Once again I've subjected myself to a kind of self-imposed exile - not from communion, but from that certain situation. I'm probably punishing myself now too, because I don't want to do what I'm doing and it's going to hurt. However, I'm hoping that by removing myself from the situation I'm also removing my own potential to cause pain in others. I see a possible time in the future when I might just remove myself completely from society and join a monastery. The more I think about that, the more I wonder if that's what God has planned for me. I've always been extremely shy, and it's difficult for me to form relationships with people and maintain them. I'm also not a very good communicator, I think, because I haven't had a lot of practice, and misunderstandings are frequent with people who are close to me. The simple, ordered life of a monastic would probably be the perfect place for a person with my type of personality. Simplicity in life is something I've always craved, as I've always only just been able to deal with the burdens and complications of living in modern society without completely collapsing.
I believe that God puts us in situations, even terrible, painful, hurtful ones, to lead us eventually to where we are supposed to be. I never would have become an Orthodox Christian if it weren't for my attraction to the person who led me there. There was no other way to drag me into a church than to be led there by my selfish desire for the love of someone else, and God knew this. I never would have even met the person who brought me to Orthodoxy though if I hadn't gone through all of the misery I've experienced with addiction, because my decision to apply for the job where I met her was one of desperation, a desperation which arose from being unmotivated, unemployed and depressed because of my problems with addiction. I could go back even further, linking together all of my bad mistakes and painful experiences (and good ones) that comprised the crucial events which described what I thought had been a terrible life up until the winter of 2008, which ultimately led me to the church.
So now I have my current situation to deal with, another painful one. However, based on the evidence of my past and where it led me, I have to believe that this too is part of God's plan to take me further into the future and closer to His will. Maybe it will lead me to a monastic life. Maybe I'll learn enough from it so that I'll actually be married some day and capable of being a good husband and father and priest for my family. I don't know, but in the meantime I can hold on to my faith and to the belief that everything is going to be alright.
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