The I Ching makes us aware that our lives are really made up of constant changes. Tension builds up and things tip over and re-start constantly. Sometimes this happens almost unnoticeably, and sometimes it is sudden and precipitate.
When my husband died, my life turned over in a normal way. It's to be expected. Often, what is not expected is the completeness of the turn. Like a roto-filer, a device that used to be in all offices and held the names of clients, let's say, and could be turned by hand so that the cards came up and flipped over, our days after such a huge event can seem to be flipping over without much impact. But the impact was there, and made itself known again and again.
I went on a vacation to my old old world, the world of my childhood and girlhood. Cards that seemed in the past to be flipping over in a fairly orderly way gave a big THUMP, and suddenly came to a stop. Things that come to a stop unexpectedly have the effect of making one pay attention.
When the wheel stops, a movement of the hand will make it start up again, or the very momentum of time will restart it. But things are not the same. A new life has begun; a new life begins every day actually but we often do not pay attention to that fact. A jolt makes us see with new eyes; we restructure; we reprioritize. This is good for us. But it hurts.
So, this is the end of Breakfast With Yazzybel. She will or will not breakfast again, but she will not be back under this chatty format. Time to see with new eyes. Yes, it is. I was ending this blog post with the last paragraph but I realized that that was not all I had to say. Thanks for reading with me so far. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Monday, September 8, 2014
Episcopalian Lectionary Readings, 9/7
Good morning.
Well, first there was Exodus. Exodus is very very interesting and contains so many of the Bible Stories we read as children. Today's reading, Exodus 12:1-14, is about the intiation of the Passover. God instructs his people through Moses and Aaron that they must slay a lamb and mark their doorways with the blood of that lamb. God intends to wreak havoc on the firstborns of all creatures, and the Israelites will be spared, God will pass over, if their doors are marked so he will know them. God did not have ESP apparently.
The instructions are quite specific. I find this a very interesting story. But Passover is in the spring, which makes me wonder why the Lectionary organizers put this lesson in the fall. There must be a reason...we are after all leading up to Advent, the little Lent...it's coming sooner than we think, especially this year which seems to have zoomed by very very fast to all us little folk. I don't know the reason.
I liked last week's story of the burning bush much better, and meant to write about it, but I didnt. The Fire that Burns but Does Not Consume. Interesting concept.
The second reading was St Paul's Epistle to the Romans, 13: 18-14. Strange order of verses. That's what it says in the bulletin, however. It is all about love, and loving each other. We are commanded to love one another. It is not an option, and it does mean everybody. Oh my. That is so difficult a concept, especially to live it.
We are winding up our discussion of Romans and last week it was brought to the attention of all that St Paul in this book seems to completely ignore the human story of Jesus Christ. No lambs balooing in a stable, no weddings, no hunger issues where fish are divided in miraculous ways to feed a hungry crowd. No, it is all about divinity. Perhaps this attitude was fueled by the manner in which Paul became a Christian--struck down by the side of the road, whence he became a changed man. He wasnt raised with any stories, maybe. Again, interesting.
I shall not deal with the Gospel, which is from Matthew and is about forgiveness. A very difficult subject and I'm not fit for dealing with it. I try to live it, though. Here we must take Matthew's words quite literally and just humbly try to live them out. I have always been pretty good as a forgiver; it is harder now. Perhaps I am old and cranky. Well, no perhaps about it. Perhaps I should forgive myself. YAZZYBEL
Well, first there was Exodus. Exodus is very very interesting and contains so many of the Bible Stories we read as children. Today's reading, Exodus 12:1-14, is about the intiation of the Passover. God instructs his people through Moses and Aaron that they must slay a lamb and mark their doorways with the blood of that lamb. God intends to wreak havoc on the firstborns of all creatures, and the Israelites will be spared, God will pass over, if their doors are marked so he will know them. God did not have ESP apparently.
The instructions are quite specific. I find this a very interesting story. But Passover is in the spring, which makes me wonder why the Lectionary organizers put this lesson in the fall. There must be a reason...we are after all leading up to Advent, the little Lent...it's coming sooner than we think, especially this year which seems to have zoomed by very very fast to all us little folk. I don't know the reason.
I liked last week's story of the burning bush much better, and meant to write about it, but I didnt. The Fire that Burns but Does Not Consume. Interesting concept.
The second reading was St Paul's Epistle to the Romans, 13: 18-14. Strange order of verses. That's what it says in the bulletin, however. It is all about love, and loving each other. We are commanded to love one another. It is not an option, and it does mean everybody. Oh my. That is so difficult a concept, especially to live it.
We are winding up our discussion of Romans and last week it was brought to the attention of all that St Paul in this book seems to completely ignore the human story of Jesus Christ. No lambs balooing in a stable, no weddings, no hunger issues where fish are divided in miraculous ways to feed a hungry crowd. No, it is all about divinity. Perhaps this attitude was fueled by the manner in which Paul became a Christian--struck down by the side of the road, whence he became a changed man. He wasnt raised with any stories, maybe. Again, interesting.
I shall not deal with the Gospel, which is from Matthew and is about forgiveness. A very difficult subject and I'm not fit for dealing with it. I try to live it, though. Here we must take Matthew's words quite literally and just humbly try to live them out. I have always been pretty good as a forgiver; it is harder now. Perhaps I am old and cranky. Well, no perhaps about it. Perhaps I should forgive myself. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, September 6, 2014
"You may be right."
Good morning.
My husband and I went through considerable marital torment, and luckily--or unluckily--we experienced this in the midst of the greatest surge of "help" for marital woes ever created by a society. We Southern Californians had more counselors than if we'd been queens and kings. There were literally hundreds of groups and individuals, religious, public, private, who were all willing to stick their beaks into our business in order to straighten us out and get us happily on our way.
I remember telling one famous psychiatrist, "I've discovered a magic phrase that quells my husband's wrath..., " and it was: "You may be right." I remember when I first said it to my husband, and saw its magic effect on the argument at hand. The waves calmed. There was nothing more to say. Magic, indeed.
I am moved to write of this by having recently watched "The Taming of the Shrew" on tape, with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. I have the tape and have watched it many times for the beauty of clothes, interiors, houses, architecture, etc. Alas, the movie was roundly panned and rightly so. Some of the acting is good, but Elizabeth Taylor was terrible as an actress. It did not help that Elizabeth and Burton were still in love at this stage, for being in love never helped acting in any performance that I know of.
But Elizabeth was just awful. It was her voice that was so bad, I think. She never took the necessary training to develop it. It is a shame that she did not, for her beauty was indeed exceptional.
The theme of the play, the changing of a shrewish badly behaved girl into a loving and well-mannered wife, is an eternal plot. Katherine, the shrew, did a lot better than I did. Without the help of any marriage counselors at all, she managed to figure out how to make the circumstances she found herself in work in favor of her own happiness.
Her famous speech at the end: "....thy Lord, thy governor,...,"--is it said with tongue in cheek? Of course it is, I think. Nobody could be that subservient, and it is to be noted that her husband did not take it in flat truth either. He was just glad not to be harangued every day of his life and he was open and generous with his little wife, possession as she was in those days.
That's what I think about it anyway. If you don't agree, let me say that you may be right. YAZZYBEL
My husband and I went through considerable marital torment, and luckily--or unluckily--we experienced this in the midst of the greatest surge of "help" for marital woes ever created by a society. We Southern Californians had more counselors than if we'd been queens and kings. There were literally hundreds of groups and individuals, religious, public, private, who were all willing to stick their beaks into our business in order to straighten us out and get us happily on our way.
I remember telling one famous psychiatrist, "I've discovered a magic phrase that quells my husband's wrath..., " and it was: "You may be right." I remember when I first said it to my husband, and saw its magic effect on the argument at hand. The waves calmed. There was nothing more to say. Magic, indeed.
I am moved to write of this by having recently watched "The Taming of the Shrew" on tape, with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. I have the tape and have watched it many times for the beauty of clothes, interiors, houses, architecture, etc. Alas, the movie was roundly panned and rightly so. Some of the acting is good, but Elizabeth Taylor was terrible as an actress. It did not help that Elizabeth and Burton were still in love at this stage, for being in love never helped acting in any performance that I know of.
But Elizabeth was just awful. It was her voice that was so bad, I think. She never took the necessary training to develop it. It is a shame that she did not, for her beauty was indeed exceptional.
The theme of the play, the changing of a shrewish badly behaved girl into a loving and well-mannered wife, is an eternal plot. Katherine, the shrew, did a lot better than I did. Without the help of any marriage counselors at all, she managed to figure out how to make the circumstances she found herself in work in favor of her own happiness.
Her famous speech at the end: "....thy Lord, thy governor,...,"--is it said with tongue in cheek? Of course it is, I think. Nobody could be that subservient, and it is to be noted that her husband did not take it in flat truth either. He was just glad not to be harangued every day of his life and he was open and generous with his little wife, possession as she was in those days.
That's what I think about it anyway. If you don't agree, let me say that you may be right. YAZZYBEL
Monday, September 1, 2014
A Labor Day to Remember
It was early September, 1933, and I was four years old.
I lived with my parents in my grandparents' house in San Benito, Texas, where my grandfather had a variety store. We lived back of the store, across the alley, in a wooden house that faced the other street---what was its name? Travis? Maybe. All the streets of that town were named after Texas heroes.
I remember standing in the front of the store watching the Labor Day parade which was staunchly parading by down the main street, Sam Houston Boulevard as I remember it. I remember the sky darkening, and the parade beginning to break up under an onslaught of rain. That was in the morning.
Next, we flash into evening, when we were eating cold baked beans out of a can in the kitchen of our house. It was darkish because the power was all out. There was much talk of the hurricane which had struck, and worry about the stability of our little wooden house. Finally the grown-ups decided to go across the alley and take shelter in the brick store. I remember that we hunkered down and did that. There must have been some kind of lanterns because I remember faces barely lit, darkness and feeling ill. And anxiety in the air.
When the big winds took the roof off the store, rain poured into the balcony second story, ruining as we later found out all the stock of school supplies my grandfather had laid in to sell the next few months. I also found out later that that was the ruination of his business as he had no insurance and never overcame the economic calamity.
At about that point, the 'eye' of the hurricane passed over San Benito, and we had the opportunity to get out of the now unprotected store. I clearly remember running down the street to a dry-cleaner's establishment where a number of other people were hunkering down. My grandfather carried my little sister Olive. I remember 'hugging' the side of the building as we ran. There were about a half dozen people other than ourselves, and everyone became worried about the lightning, which might strike the dry cleaning fluid standing about and blow us all to heck.
I remember little more, except that I felt miserable. My mother later told me that I'd thrown up all night, probably from those cold baked beans...perhaps from the anxiety. When morning came and the hurricane had passed, we went back to the house.
I remember standing in the kitchen, and everyone was talking about how remarkable it was that the house had stayed up perfectly okay, the roof intact and no inside damage to speak of. That was my Labor Day to remember. My father was working in Mexico at the time, and got a newspaper from the USA the next day that said, "South Texas Wiped Out in Hurricane." But he came home to find us all safe and sound, though a bit shaken. He took us driving through the flooded streets, where we saw lots of poor folk driven totally homeless by the storm, and lots of wind damage. A Labor Day to remember!!! YAZZYBEL
I lived with my parents in my grandparents' house in San Benito, Texas, where my grandfather had a variety store. We lived back of the store, across the alley, in a wooden house that faced the other street---what was its name? Travis? Maybe. All the streets of that town were named after Texas heroes.
I remember standing in the front of the store watching the Labor Day parade which was staunchly parading by down the main street, Sam Houston Boulevard as I remember it. I remember the sky darkening, and the parade beginning to break up under an onslaught of rain. That was in the morning.
Next, we flash into evening, when we were eating cold baked beans out of a can in the kitchen of our house. It was darkish because the power was all out. There was much talk of the hurricane which had struck, and worry about the stability of our little wooden house. Finally the grown-ups decided to go across the alley and take shelter in the brick store. I remember that we hunkered down and did that. There must have been some kind of lanterns because I remember faces barely lit, darkness and feeling ill. And anxiety in the air.
When the big winds took the roof off the store, rain poured into the balcony second story, ruining as we later found out all the stock of school supplies my grandfather had laid in to sell the next few months. I also found out later that that was the ruination of his business as he had no insurance and never overcame the economic calamity.
At about that point, the 'eye' of the hurricane passed over San Benito, and we had the opportunity to get out of the now unprotected store. I clearly remember running down the street to a dry-cleaner's establishment where a number of other people were hunkering down. My grandfather carried my little sister Olive. I remember 'hugging' the side of the building as we ran. There were about a half dozen people other than ourselves, and everyone became worried about the lightning, which might strike the dry cleaning fluid standing about and blow us all to heck.
I remember little more, except that I felt miserable. My mother later told me that I'd thrown up all night, probably from those cold baked beans...perhaps from the anxiety. When morning came and the hurricane had passed, we went back to the house.
I remember standing in the kitchen, and everyone was talking about how remarkable it was that the house had stayed up perfectly okay, the roof intact and no inside damage to speak of. That was my Labor Day to remember. My father was working in Mexico at the time, and got a newspaper from the USA the next day that said, "South Texas Wiped Out in Hurricane." But he came home to find us all safe and sound, though a bit shaken. He took us driving through the flooded streets, where we saw lots of poor folk driven totally homeless by the storm, and lots of wind damage. A Labor Day to remember!!! YAZZYBEL
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