Advent comes from the Latin word adventus, which means "coming." For those of us who are learning the art of sitting still, I thought this poem by one of my favorite contemporary poets would fit nicely for the first week of Advent.
"Patience" by Kay Ryan
Patience is
wider than one
once envisioned,
with ribbons
of rivers
and distant
ranges and
tasks undertaken
and finished
with modest
relish by
natives in their
native dress.
Who would
have guessed
it possible
that waiting
is sustainable—
a place with
its own harvests.
Or that in
time's fullness
the diamonds
of patience
couldn't be
distinguished
from the genuine
in brilliance
or hardness.
I love these, especially the "Hallelujah" ones:
I have my first tele-conference today for a freelancing assignment, which means new research will be revealed press conference-style, then open questions. Should be a good time.
For those who see patience as a virtue and to those who see it as the virtue of the bored (ahem, Oscar Wilde), have a very happy Thursday!
Showing posts with label reporting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reporting. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Why the Saints?
The question of the saints and why they are included and mentioned so often in Catholicism was recently posed to me. One of the best parts of college was the open dialogue and friendships I have had with serious Protestants who asked me real questions about Catholicism that push me to explain and thus understand my faith in different terms. I can't assume we're on the same page, even though we share Christendom. As a cradle Catholic, there are so many aspects of my faith I take for granted.
Mary, the Mother of God, for example. She is a second mother to me, who I can turn to in prayer for comfort and guidance. She is a role model and I try to emulate her emphatic use of "yes!" to God's call in her life. There are some serious misunderstandings of Mary. I have been told Catholics worship Mary. Statues and pictures of Mary have been equated to idolatry, as does praying the rosary. I have been asked why Mary matters.
All fair questions, but to lay the foundation: Catholics only worship Jesus Christ, not Mary, and we do that through the sacraments, specifically the Eucharist, where Jesus is tangibly present.
Simply put, how does one way to really get to know a guy? You get to know his mother. Ad Jesum per Mariam- to Jesus through Mary.
DF was in D.C. again this past summer and jokingly asked me why there are so many pictures of her in the Cathedral. Well, I replied, it's the House of God, right? And Mary's His mother. He better have pictures of his Mom hanging up all over or someone is going to get a talking to! The same goes for saints. Pictures of them are considered the same as keeping pictures of family members of the mantle at home. A person doesn't worship those pictures- but they are a physical reminder. It's not enough to have a memory of them; some people need to see it to believe it, and that's not a weakness. Even Jesus allowed Thomas to touch his wounds.
Catholics don't pray to "dead people." If one believes in a Heaven, it should not be a far stretch to say those in Heaven are alive in the Body of Christ and praying for us down on Earth. (In Purgatory too, but that's a different discussion!) They pray that we turn our hearts towards God so that we may one day join them with Him in celestial splendor. They are family, like brothers and sisters, as God is the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, with Mary as the Mother and Queen of Heaven. For Catholics, it is considered no different to ask for their prayers and intercession any more than to ask one's family and friends to pray here on Earth.
That's why I love reading about the lives of saints. They were fallen, just like the rest of us, and yet they strove to say "yes!" to the call of Christ and do His will over their own. We read about their life just like we like reading about famous people and listening to stories about family members- because they teach us about them, about ourselves and about our purpose.
Today, for example, is the feast of St. Rose of Lima. She is the first American to become a saint and is the patron of Latin America and the Philippines. She was born in 1586 and died in 1617. My little sister Megan wants to take this beautiful saint as her Confirmation name, and for good cause. Here is a little from her bio:
Rose had many temptations from the devil, and there were also many times when she had to suffer a feeling of terrible loneliness and sadness, for God seemed far away. Yet she cheerfully offered all these troubles to Him. In fact, in her last long, painful sickness, this heroic young woman use[d] to pray: "Lord, increase my sufferings, and with them increase Your love in my heart."
One of Longfellow's poems ends, "Lives of great men all remind us,/ we can make our lives sublime,/ and, departing, leave behind us,/ footprints on the sands of time."
Isn't this the same for saints as it is with the secular set? When mediocrity is becoming a standard and sensationalism a virtue? Can there be no greater desire now than to counter the culture by asserting that there is more to this life than thrills and making ourselves happy? We humans are an inifinite vessel. We can either pour effort into making ourselves happy or give ourselves towards the service of others. My Dad told me that having [six] kids made him love more ways than he thought possible-- and trust me when I say his graying hair is not just a result of age.
I find I am (usually) happier when I am serving others, be it helping a sibling with homework or dinner dishes duty or the homeless man by work whom I buy a newspaper from every other week. Helping others distracts attention from one's self, both of which is innately petty and self-gratifying, of which I am guilty. I miss living with Bear, for example, because I could always find small things to help her, even if it was only providing her coffee before a long night of studying. It may not be the immediate thought, but like all things, if a person turns their mind and actions deliberately towards goodness and servitude, it will become so.
This is what the saints did too. They looked up from the mud and smiled at the stars. They kept their focus on Christ. They served His people so as to serve Him. They banished vanities because they distracted and detracted. There have been so many times when I am trolling the internet and have to stop and say, Is this really the best use of my time? The internet isn't bad and I love the amount of information at my disposal, but the amount of time spent in its service can be too much. It's amazing how time is clawed at by wants and desires.
Today St. Rose reminded me to rejoice in my little crosses of the day. To keep them to myself and relish in small accomplishments and disciplines. I've been enjoying the British Florence + the Machine's "The Dog Days are Over" recently. I especially like the first stanza: "Happiness hit her like a train on a track/ Coming towards her/ stuck still/ no turning back."
The music video is surreal and odd, but the song is poppy and infectious:
That line reminds me of something Ronald Knox wrote in "The Hidden Stream: Mysteries of the Christian Faith" (an amazing book, I cannot more highly recommend it). In the second chapter, when discussing whether we need proof of God, he ends by saying, irregardless of if we want to believe it, God is everywhere.
I think that is so beautiful. To many, it is a "duh" statement. To others, it is a Homer Simpson statement ("D'oh!"). I've heard the sentiments many times: how can God exist if children are starving/ bad people are allowed to do bad things/ etc. Flannery O'Conner said that evil is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be endured. How should that change a person's perspective on the world? Seeing the world not as a cage but as a creation and manifestation of God; looking at every person as a fellow soul; knowing that this too shall pass.
That's what else the saints can teach us. We are not made for this world, but another. This does not mean humanity is in a waiting room killing time, but the world is where one prepares one's mind and body. A person shouldn't go to class without prepping for the lecture, nor do a job without training. The same goes for Heaven- an eternity of worshiping the Almighty needs a life of freely-chosen devotion to God, not forced or begrudged participation, like an indentured servitude.
"For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive recompense, according to what he did in the body, whether good or evil. Therefore, since we know the fear of the Lord, we try to persuade others; but we are clearly apparent to God, and I hope we are also apparent to your consciousness."
-2 Corinthians 5:10-11
Today I am writing on Ohio's 'Race to the Top' money and am happy to be out of the heat (for now). I'll ponder and admire sidewalk cracks, old couples ambling and yappy dogs on my bike ride home; but for now, back to work!
Mary, the Mother of God, for example. She is a second mother to me, who I can turn to in prayer for comfort and guidance. She is a role model and I try to emulate her emphatic use of "yes!" to God's call in her life. There are some serious misunderstandings of Mary. I have been told Catholics worship Mary. Statues and pictures of Mary have been equated to idolatry, as does praying the rosary. I have been asked why Mary matters.
All fair questions, but to lay the foundation: Catholics only worship Jesus Christ, not Mary, and we do that through the sacraments, specifically the Eucharist, where Jesus is tangibly present.
Simply put, how does one way to really get to know a guy? You get to know his mother. Ad Jesum per Mariam- to Jesus through Mary.
DF was in D.C. again this past summer and jokingly asked me why there are so many pictures of her in the Cathedral. Well, I replied, it's the House of God, right? And Mary's His mother. He better have pictures of his Mom hanging up all over or someone is going to get a talking to! The same goes for saints. Pictures of them are considered the same as keeping pictures of family members of the mantle at home. A person doesn't worship those pictures- but they are a physical reminder. It's not enough to have a memory of them; some people need to see it to believe it, and that's not a weakness. Even Jesus allowed Thomas to touch his wounds.
Catholics don't pray to "dead people." If one believes in a Heaven, it should not be a far stretch to say those in Heaven are alive in the Body of Christ and praying for us down on Earth. (In Purgatory too, but that's a different discussion!) They pray that we turn our hearts towards God so that we may one day join them with Him in celestial splendor. They are family, like brothers and sisters, as God is the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, with Mary as the Mother and Queen of Heaven. For Catholics, it is considered no different to ask for their prayers and intercession any more than to ask one's family and friends to pray here on Earth.
That's why I love reading about the lives of saints. They were fallen, just like the rest of us, and yet they strove to say "yes!" to the call of Christ and do His will over their own. We read about their life just like we like reading about famous people and listening to stories about family members- because they teach us about them, about ourselves and about our purpose.
Today, for example, is the feast of St. Rose of Lima. She is the first American to become a saint and is the patron of Latin America and the Philippines. She was born in 1586 and died in 1617. My little sister Megan wants to take this beautiful saint as her Confirmation name, and for good cause. Here is a little from her bio:
Rose had many temptations from the devil, and there were also many times when she had to suffer a feeling of terrible loneliness and sadness, for God seemed far away. Yet she cheerfully offered all these troubles to Him. In fact, in her last long, painful sickness, this heroic young woman use[d] to pray: "Lord, increase my sufferings, and with them increase Your love in my heart."
One of Longfellow's poems ends, "Lives of great men all remind us,/ we can make our lives sublime,/ and, departing, leave behind us,/ footprints on the sands of time."
Isn't this the same for saints as it is with the secular set? When mediocrity is becoming a standard and sensationalism a virtue? Can there be no greater desire now than to counter the culture by asserting that there is more to this life than thrills and making ourselves happy? We humans are an inifinite vessel. We can either pour effort into making ourselves happy or give ourselves towards the service of others. My Dad told me that having [six] kids made him love more ways than he thought possible-- and trust me when I say his graying hair is not just a result of age.
I find I am (usually) happier when I am serving others, be it helping a sibling with homework or dinner dishes duty or the homeless man by work whom I buy a newspaper from every other week. Helping others distracts attention from one's self, both of which is innately petty and self-gratifying, of which I am guilty. I miss living with Bear, for example, because I could always find small things to help her, even if it was only providing her coffee before a long night of studying. It may not be the immediate thought, but like all things, if a person turns their mind and actions deliberately towards goodness and servitude, it will become so.
This is what the saints did too. They looked up from the mud and smiled at the stars. They kept their focus on Christ. They served His people so as to serve Him. They banished vanities because they distracted and detracted. There have been so many times when I am trolling the internet and have to stop and say, Is this really the best use of my time? The internet isn't bad and I love the amount of information at my disposal, but the amount of time spent in its service can be too much. It's amazing how time is clawed at by wants and desires.
Today St. Rose reminded me to rejoice in my little crosses of the day. To keep them to myself and relish in small accomplishments and disciplines. I've been enjoying the British Florence + the Machine's "The Dog Days are Over" recently. I especially like the first stanza: "Happiness hit her like a train on a track/ Coming towards her/ stuck still/ no turning back."
The music video is surreal and odd, but the song is poppy and infectious:
That line reminds me of something Ronald Knox wrote in "The Hidden Stream: Mysteries of the Christian Faith" (an amazing book, I cannot more highly recommend it). In the second chapter, when discussing whether we need proof of God, he ends by saying, irregardless of if we want to believe it, God is everywhere.
I think that is so beautiful. To many, it is a "duh" statement. To others, it is a Homer Simpson statement ("D'oh!"). I've heard the sentiments many times: how can God exist if children are starving/ bad people are allowed to do bad things/ etc. Flannery O'Conner said that evil is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be endured. How should that change a person's perspective on the world? Seeing the world not as a cage but as a creation and manifestation of God; looking at every person as a fellow soul; knowing that this too shall pass.
That's what else the saints can teach us. We are not made for this world, but another. This does not mean humanity is in a waiting room killing time, but the world is where one prepares one's mind and body. A person shouldn't go to class without prepping for the lecture, nor do a job without training. The same goes for Heaven- an eternity of worshiping the Almighty needs a life of freely-chosen devotion to God, not forced or begrudged participation, like an indentured servitude.
"For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive recompense, according to what he did in the body, whether good or evil. Therefore, since we know the fear of the Lord, we try to persuade others; but we are clearly apparent to God, and I hope we are also apparent to your consciousness."
-2 Corinthians 5:10-11
Today I am writing on Ohio's 'Race to the Top' money and am happy to be out of the heat (for now). I'll ponder and admire sidewalk cracks, old couples ambling and yappy dogs on my bike ride home; but for now, back to work!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The Justice League has a new member...!!
My sister just posted this picture of our dog and labeled it "Captain Heidi."
Heidi, the Top Dog of our household, is fightin' crime one mailman at a time; and when she's not barking at every person, dog, cyclist or car that goes by our house, she's smoozing for a belly rub or treat. Heidi is a champion napper, can magically open/ get through closed doors and she has the softest and most snuggly fur. Bonus: when she's been bad, she usually goes into her cage without much prompting.
My sister told me this weekend that she is four years old! I don't know how long that is in dog years, but it's wild to think she's been with us for what sounds like a short period when it feels like forever. I suppose some things are meant to fit and feel like an old sweater, even a relatively new addition.
Heidi the Great!We're not ones to dress up our pets, but I think this is pretty funny. I'm going to have to call home later to find out the story.
[Update from my sister: "The story is that I gave her a bath and she only shakes when she get out of the tub, so I covered her up so she wouldn't shake on everybody." Thus Captain Heidi was born!!]
Okay, back to writing my article on how the Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles has been selling private information because it's apparently all public records anyways and still epically fails to make a profit.
Two final thoughts:
1. “Whenever you are fed up with life, start writing: ink is the great cure for all human ills, as I have found out long ago.” --C.S. Lewis
2. Milton Friedman putting a young Michael Moore in his place. Yay free enterprise! H/T to my office mate in the Batcave.
Happy Tuesday, folks! My big April is back in town and we're going to get lunch today at Dirty Frank's, Hipster HQ in this splendid metropolis. It's National French Fry Day too, but I think I might opt for the tator tots...
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
State Budget Meeting, Round Two
At the second budget meeting for the summer: "The State Fiscal Situation." The room is absolutely packed. The guy presenting this power point can't be more than two years older than me.
Speaking of age gaps, my youngest sister made herself a Gmail account. I found this out when the three little kids group gchatted me right before the meeting started. Even though I enjoyed talking to them for a little bit, I felt a little sad at how fast they are growing up. Getting an e-mail always seemed like a rite of passage for me. I made one when I was 13. I remember this random Julie trivia because my e-mail address was "julesrob13" (I've always been really creative with my e-mail).
The ten-year-old to me : i'm so excited
now we can talk more often!
Next guy up, at least 8-10 years older: “State Measures to Balance FY 2010 and FY 2011 Budgets” and he's discussing tax increases: gambling, motor fuel and vehicle taxes/ fees; sales, corporate income and personal income taxes; selective taxes; other revenue taxes (i.e. film tax, condiment taxes, soda tax). Now talking about making cuts to K-12 and higher education...
Okay, this meeting is tedious. I've got 3 articles to finish, so I'm going to multi-task now while still listening. I can't believe this commission only intends on having two meetings. They have a lot of work to do between now and November. I too have a lot of work to do, but between now and 8 p.m., which is when I have dinner plans. I can't find a copy of the power point on Gongwer either, which slightly annoys me.
I started making my own budget last night. I'm currently deciding how much of my salary will go towards living expenses, paying back my loans, shuffled into savings and having available. It's a good exercise in priorities!
Oh, there's another presentation: "Ohio's Budget: Steady Fiscal Control in Turbulent Times." How jolly. There's a gavel! And so it continues... another Great Depression reference.
Also, if it seems that these presentations are going fast, don't be deluded. The first set took and hour and a half. :) I just type fast and then ignore the post until something slightly worth commenting on happens. Lots is happening, but not much is worth a mention. I wonder how much more fun this job would be if people cut the BS. For instance, Sabety: "While I am optimistic, clearly, we are not out of the woods yet." Wah-wah-wah! Oh! Her system is shutting down! This is incredibly ironic.
Today it's David McCullough's birthday: "Writing is thinking. To write well is to think clearly. That's why it's so hard."
Speaking of age gaps, my youngest sister made herself a Gmail account. I found this out when the three little kids group gchatted me right before the meeting started. Even though I enjoyed talking to them for a little bit, I felt a little sad at how fast they are growing up. Getting an e-mail always seemed like a rite of passage for me. I made one when I was 13. I remember this random Julie trivia because my e-mail address was "julesrob13" (I've always been really creative with my e-mail).
The ten-year-old to me : i'm so excited
now we can talk more often!
Next guy up, at least 8-10 years older: “State Measures to Balance FY 2010 and FY 2011 Budgets” and he's discussing tax increases: gambling, motor fuel and vehicle taxes/ fees; sales, corporate income and personal income taxes; selective taxes; other revenue taxes (i.e. film tax, condiment taxes, soda tax). Now talking about making cuts to K-12 and higher education...
Okay, this meeting is tedious. I've got 3 articles to finish, so I'm going to multi-task now while still listening. I can't believe this commission only intends on having two meetings. They have a lot of work to do between now and November. I too have a lot of work to do, but between now and 8 p.m., which is when I have dinner plans. I can't find a copy of the power point on Gongwer either, which slightly annoys me.
I started making my own budget last night. I'm currently deciding how much of my salary will go towards living expenses, paying back my loans, shuffled into savings and having available. It's a good exercise in priorities!
Oh, there's another presentation: "Ohio's Budget: Steady Fiscal Control in Turbulent Times." How jolly. There's a gavel! And so it continues... another Great Depression reference.
Also, if it seems that these presentations are going fast, don't be deluded. The first set took and hour and a half. :) I just type fast and then ignore the post until something slightly worth commenting on happens. Lots is happening, but not much is worth a mention. I wonder how much more fun this job would be if people cut the BS. For instance, Sabety: "While I am optimistic, clearly, we are not out of the woods yet." Wah-wah-wah! Oh! Her system is shutting down! This is incredibly ironic.
Today it's David McCullough's birthday: "Writing is thinking. To write well is to think clearly. That's why it's so hard."
Thursday, July 1, 2010
It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World
Second post of the day, I know. This incident is from a little less than 3 years ago, but with Christopher Hitchens recent self-removal from his book tour to attend to his throat cancer and have chemotherapy, I stumbled upon it. (I'm a reporter, I like to dig around deeper and wider.)
Imagine this: an encounter between Fr. George Rutler, the Roman Catholic priest who served the firefighters in NYC on 9/11 and a convert from Anglicanism, and Christopher Hitchens, the gifted writer and Atheist.
Hitchens described the encounter like this in the September 2007 issue of Vanity Fair:
May 1, New York City: An evening at the Union League Club, sponsored by the conservative David Horowitz. A full house of upscale right-wingers who at least agree with me on the single issue of fighting Islamic jihadism. A generally receptive and friendly audience as I am interviewed by the publisher Peter Collier. He's just closed the meeting when a man in a clerical collar puts up his hand. In a magnanimous mood, I say, Fair enough—let's extend the event for a man of the cloth. This turns out to be Father George Rutler of the Church of Our Saviour, who announces that he's on the committee of the club and will make sure that I am never invited there again. There's some shock at this inhospitable attitude, but I think: Gosh. Holy Mother Church used to threaten people with eternal damnation. Now it's exclusion from the Union League Club. What a comedown. In a brisk exchange near the elevator, the good father assures me that I shall die a Catholic. Why do people think this is such a good point?
Here's a brief transcript from Elizabeth Scalia's First Things blog:
Father Rutler
I have met saints. You cannot explain the existence of saints without God. I was nine years chaplain with Mother Teresa [inaudible]. You have called her a whore, a demagogue. She’s in heaven that you don’t believe in, but she’s praying for you. If you do not believe in heaven, that’s why you drink.
Christopher Hitchens
Excuse me?
Father Rutler
That’s why you drink. God has offered us happiness, all of us. And you will either die a Catholic or a madman, and I’ll tell you the difference. And secondly, I’m an officer with this club. And this conversation has been beneath the dignity of this club.
I've been thinking a lot about God and Catholicism as a whole lately. Being Catholic is the hardest and best part of my life. Today was no different. I'm too rebellious by nature; God has been slowly taming my soul. This has not been easy for me, but very necessary.
Pascal talked of the God-shaped vacuum in people's lives. Augustine wrote in his Confessions that our hearts are restless Lord until they rest in thee. B.H. Fairchild wrote in his essay "Credo" that the reason Christians attend mass or services is because they are admitting they are weak; they talk to God. Pope Benedict says there are as many ways to God as there are people; that being said, Jesus Christ is the only way.
And to get to Christ, He uses the worst of us. He befriended the tax-collectors and prostitutes. He gave the keys of the Church to a coward who denied him three times. I sometimes think, if there were no homeless, would we still be thankful for the roof over our head and our covers at night? If no one was persecuted, how could we taste justice? Resisting temptation bears fruit of contentment. When I leave the office late only to continue working at home, I'm glad I have the crucifix to remind me of what a blessing it is to have a job after college and the chance to write for a living, among many other good things.
The subjective nature in which people see the world always makes me think of E.A. Robinson's poem "Richard Cory":
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
With all the material gain in the world, Richard Cory still had nothing to sustain him. "Cum panis" is Latin for "with bread." It is a simple phrase my good friend Betsy brought to my attention in the spring in a letter; about the significance of communion and community when friends and family share bread together at a meal- or, for me at least, when Catholics gather to celebrate the mass and the Eucharist.
My fellow reporter doesn't get why I go to mass every day I am able. "Again?" she once said, slightly exasperated. I smiled and said "Yes!" but wanted to elaborate. I wanted to share why I feel compelled to go and why I must go. Yes, must. How mass (ergo, God) comforts me in estrangement from dear ones, drives away doubts about my purpose and His will, quells fears that I will end up alone, gives me the gumption to do my job, fills me with His Love and gives me peace. As St. Ignatius Loyola said, "Go forth and set the world on fire." That I will, God-willing.
Perhaps I have told too much and gone on for too long but something compels me to tell this story (most likely the Holy Spirit; I loathe to think I wrote this for my own silly purposes). I hope this aids or supplements something on your own minds or hearts. God works in mysterious ways but purposeful ways.
And something else to think about: how momentous would it be if Christopher Hitchens had an Alexander Flyte from Brideshead Revisited moment? The English do have their fair share of famous converts!
Imagine this: an encounter between Fr. George Rutler, the Roman Catholic priest who served the firefighters in NYC on 9/11 and a convert from Anglicanism, and Christopher Hitchens, the gifted writer and Atheist.
Hitchens described the encounter like this in the September 2007 issue of Vanity Fair:
May 1, New York City: An evening at the Union League Club, sponsored by the conservative David Horowitz. A full house of upscale right-wingers who at least agree with me on the single issue of fighting Islamic jihadism. A generally receptive and friendly audience as I am interviewed by the publisher Peter Collier. He's just closed the meeting when a man in a clerical collar puts up his hand. In a magnanimous mood, I say, Fair enough—let's extend the event for a man of the cloth. This turns out to be Father George Rutler of the Church of Our Saviour, who announces that he's on the committee of the club and will make sure that I am never invited there again. There's some shock at this inhospitable attitude, but I think: Gosh. Holy Mother Church used to threaten people with eternal damnation. Now it's exclusion from the Union League Club. What a comedown. In a brisk exchange near the elevator, the good father assures me that I shall die a Catholic. Why do people think this is such a good point?
Here's a brief transcript from Elizabeth Scalia's First Things blog:
Father Rutler
I have met saints. You cannot explain the existence of saints without God. I was nine years chaplain with Mother Teresa [inaudible]. You have called her a whore, a demagogue. She’s in heaven that you don’t believe in, but she’s praying for you. If you do not believe in heaven, that’s why you drink.
Christopher Hitchens
Excuse me?
Father Rutler
That’s why you drink. God has offered us happiness, all of us. And you will either die a Catholic or a madman, and I’ll tell you the difference. And secondly, I’m an officer with this club. And this conversation has been beneath the dignity of this club.
I've been thinking a lot about God and Catholicism as a whole lately. Being Catholic is the hardest and best part of my life. Today was no different. I'm too rebellious by nature; God has been slowly taming my soul. This has not been easy for me, but very necessary.
Pascal talked of the God-shaped vacuum in people's lives. Augustine wrote in his Confessions that our hearts are restless Lord until they rest in thee. B.H. Fairchild wrote in his essay "Credo" that the reason Christians attend mass or services is because they are admitting they are weak; they talk to God. Pope Benedict says there are as many ways to God as there are people; that being said, Jesus Christ is the only way.
And to get to Christ, He uses the worst of us. He befriended the tax-collectors and prostitutes. He gave the keys of the Church to a coward who denied him three times. I sometimes think, if there were no homeless, would we still be thankful for the roof over our head and our covers at night? If no one was persecuted, how could we taste justice? Resisting temptation bears fruit of contentment. When I leave the office late only to continue working at home, I'm glad I have the crucifix to remind me of what a blessing it is to have a job after college and the chance to write for a living, among many other good things.
The subjective nature in which people see the world always makes me think of E.A. Robinson's poem "Richard Cory":
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
With all the material gain in the world, Richard Cory still had nothing to sustain him. "Cum panis" is Latin for "with bread." It is a simple phrase my good friend Betsy brought to my attention in the spring in a letter; about the significance of communion and community when friends and family share bread together at a meal- or, for me at least, when Catholics gather to celebrate the mass and the Eucharist.
My fellow reporter doesn't get why I go to mass every day I am able. "Again?" she once said, slightly exasperated. I smiled and said "Yes!" but wanted to elaborate. I wanted to share why I feel compelled to go and why I must go. Yes, must. How mass (ergo, God) comforts me in estrangement from dear ones, drives away doubts about my purpose and His will, quells fears that I will end up alone, gives me the gumption to do my job, fills me with His Love and gives me peace. As St. Ignatius Loyola said, "Go forth and set the world on fire." That I will, God-willing.
Perhaps I have told too much and gone on for too long but something compels me to tell this story (most likely the Holy Spirit; I loathe to think I wrote this for my own silly purposes). I hope this aids or supplements something on your own minds or hearts. God works in mysterious ways but purposeful ways.
And something else to think about: how momentous would it be if Christopher Hitchens had an Alexander Flyte from Brideshead Revisited moment? The English do have their fair share of famous converts!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Then he said to me, "Welcome to the Jungle"
I am currently at the Budget Planning and Management Committee meeting in one of the Senate Chambers. I'm sitting in the back, on a straight back wood bench, close to a plug so my little-white-Mac-that-can will function properly as I take notes and tweet on what's happening today in this meeting at the Statehouse.
The room is full of people in suits. I am wearing a salmon-colored oxford with my blue dress, so I feel properly attired. I am on the floor of the chamber; I wonder if I should be in the gallery, but I don't really care. I'm curious who the people next to me are. They keep taking notes too, but less formally and have a copy of the slides. I'm going to need to obtain one of those. I'll probably call Sen. Jones office after this.
This is a good little nook for me. Laura is in Dublin, doing interviews for her big story on Bri-High, a new shopping complex in Dublin that is way over-budget and over-due. Also, it has no parking. It does have a lovely fountain, though. Next meeting, though, she should come with our new camera and film this. Technically, I am sure I could watch it on the Ohio Statehouse website, but being here is much better.
Brief update from the federal Senate: "Senate Armed Services Committee has approved Petraeus nomination by Voice Vote."
The amount of money being dealt with boggles me. Our current budget is $50.5 billion dollars, but that's not enough. We have a deficit of $8 billion. To date, Ohio has received $2.14 billion dollars from the federal government. The first interest payment is due September 30, 2010 and is estimated at $110.5 million dollars. The state-funded pensions are seriously underfunded, upwards of $40 million. Is this fascinating? I feel like the famous line from Animal House would be a good slogan for the next budget year and election cycle, with an add-on: "Don't Get Mad, Get Even--Balance the Budget!"
Being a reporter is an interesting profession. I know I'm a cub reporter in the real world, but I've got 8 years of experience behind me. I started writing for a paper when I was a freshman in high school. I've got the look down:
--casual with an attempt to be dressed up (hence the oxford shirt)
--comfortable shoes/ ballet flats (I wore heels to an interview once and it was the one time the person wanted to be interviewed standing up: never, ever again.)
--ink stain on my right hand from where my pen exploded on me during a phone interview
--smirk while listening to the proceedings as I type away.
One reason I say it's interesting is because there are some dualistic qualities a person has to have: you have to listen to what people say, but not always believe them. You have to accept their love as much as you accept their hatred. Remain impartial while keeping convictions. Always curious without being nosy. Write fast, concise, succinct without getting sloppy and keeping your facts straight. Look people in the eye and shake their hand firmly. Show no fear even when you're terrified. And while so many journalists cannot say this: Don't lose the optimism. I know way too many cynical journalists and I think it springs from a disbelief that their work is making a difference. I think that changing or enlightening even one mind is worth the work, and I am sure more than one mind is touched in this social media environment.
Finally the transcript of Rep. Sessions' opening statement today during the Kagan hearings. My friend Andrew and I threw a party when Roberts and Alito got confirmed. I would throw a party for Kagan not to get elected. As Sessions says, no individual nominated by any party of her background should be elected to the Supreme Court.
Meeting adjourned. Gavel pounded. People leaving and drifting and talking.
Keep it real, folks. I'm going to go pop by offices now and write a follow-up story now before hopping on my bike back home. Ah, the good life!
The room is full of people in suits. I am wearing a salmon-colored oxford with my blue dress, so I feel properly attired. I am on the floor of the chamber; I wonder if I should be in the gallery, but I don't really care. I'm curious who the people next to me are. They keep taking notes too, but less formally and have a copy of the slides. I'm going to need to obtain one of those. I'll probably call Sen. Jones office after this.
This is a good little nook for me. Laura is in Dublin, doing interviews for her big story on Bri-High, a new shopping complex in Dublin that is way over-budget and over-due. Also, it has no parking. It does have a lovely fountain, though. Next meeting, though, she should come with our new camera and film this. Technically, I am sure I could watch it on the Ohio Statehouse website, but being here is much better.
Brief update from the federal Senate: "Senate Armed Services Committee has approved Petraeus nomination by Voice Vote."
The amount of money being dealt with boggles me. Our current budget is $50.5 billion dollars, but that's not enough. We have a deficit of $8 billion. To date, Ohio has received $2.14 billion dollars from the federal government. The first interest payment is due September 30, 2010 and is estimated at $110.5 million dollars. The state-funded pensions are seriously underfunded, upwards of $40 million. Is this fascinating? I feel like the famous line from Animal House would be a good slogan for the next budget year and election cycle, with an add-on: "Don't Get Mad, Get Even--Balance the Budget!"
Being a reporter is an interesting profession. I know I'm a cub reporter in the real world, but I've got 8 years of experience behind me. I started writing for a paper when I was a freshman in high school. I've got the look down:
--casual with an attempt to be dressed up (hence the oxford shirt)
--comfortable shoes/ ballet flats (I wore heels to an interview once and it was the one time the person wanted to be interviewed standing up: never, ever again.)
--ink stain on my right hand from where my pen exploded on me during a phone interview
--smirk while listening to the proceedings as I type away.
One reason I say it's interesting is because there are some dualistic qualities a person has to have: you have to listen to what people say, but not always believe them. You have to accept their love as much as you accept their hatred. Remain impartial while keeping convictions. Always curious without being nosy. Write fast, concise, succinct without getting sloppy and keeping your facts straight. Look people in the eye and shake their hand firmly. Show no fear even when you're terrified. And while so many journalists cannot say this: Don't lose the optimism. I know way too many cynical journalists and I think it springs from a disbelief that their work is making a difference. I think that changing or enlightening even one mind is worth the work, and I am sure more than one mind is touched in this social media environment.
Finally the transcript of Rep. Sessions' opening statement today during the Kagan hearings. My friend Andrew and I threw a party when Roberts and Alito got confirmed. I would throw a party for Kagan not to get elected. As Sessions says, no individual nominated by any party of her background should be elected to the Supreme Court.
Meeting adjourned. Gavel pounded. People leaving and drifting and talking.
Keep it real, folks. I'm going to go pop by offices now and write a follow-up story now before hopping on my bike back home. Ah, the good life!
Monday, June 21, 2010
You Stay Classy, Catholics
Today, I took a break from writing my article/ calling sources to peruse through various news websites, reading articles and keeping myself up-to-date when I stumbled upon National Catholic Reporter's website. I should have been more weary, considering the endorsements by the New York Times and the Huffington Post, but I impulsively clicked through a couple articles before finding a section called “Young Voices.” It always intrigues me to read and talk to fellow young people about our shared Catholic faith and how it permeates our lives (as the post-Vatican II babies), but it did not take me long to realize this particular writer and I did not share more than our cradle Catholicism.
Within a couple grafs, she came out as gay and her bio below the article says she is on the leadership teams for a Call to Action Next Generation and the Women’s Ordination Council, which offended my Catholic sensibilities more than her homosexual inclinations, because people are going to be gay, just like people are going to be liars and lushes and lechers, but not all are going to fight the very system they voluntarily subscribe to. Another complementing article entitled “Compromised hierarchy needs relational wisdom of women” lamented the Church’s refusal to even discuss women becoming priests. Pardon my colloquialism, but DUH—no surprise there. That’s basic Church teaching. That will never change, nor should it.
Then an article on the “Catholic Club” and people judging others’ Catholicity and how it doesn’t matter if a person is a liberal, moderate or conservative Catholic. I was becoming the train wreck I had begun to read, with absolute disbelief at the way the Church was being used and abused in the articles. Perhaps I do it to myself. I read too much. Moreover, I read parts of the comments sections, home of the sometimes insightful but oftentimes ignorant comments which oftentimes do nothing to edify or expand upon the conversation prompted by the above article.
Can one be a liberal or moderate or conservative Catholic? I think the same question could extend to all Christians in general. I do not think one can. Either one lives by the Gospel teachings or one does not. People are fallen, so of course they are going to trip along the way, but do they forsake the map for their shortcut or do they continue to struggle upwards on the steep path? If you’re a Catholic, though, that means you follow God, whose vehicle is Rome. It doesn’t mean you pick and choose the parts of the Catechism or Bible to follow. Catholicism encompasses and permeates one’s whole life and will, even against resistance. As a girl I went to high school with, who told me she left the Church in college, “It’s harder to quit than smoking.”
Even in this egalitarian world, there are still people whose opinion we value higher than our own. There are still rights and wrongs, which cannot to be confused with preferences or opinions. This is the point of the Church, to lead the flock. The Church is incredibly beautiful and intellectual, appealing to simplistic minds as much as analytical ones. The Church makes decisions to help lead towards the happiness of another, better life. The Church is not as outmoded, either. Time is on the Church’s side: Truth is not another passing fancy, like pogs or wearing leggings as pants.
In other words, it’s a classic. And similar to other classics, like penny loafers and big bows on little girls, it’s the understated elegance of the Church that draws people in: the humbling of self before the alter, the moving of fingers along the rosary beads, making the sign of the cross before meals, the declaration of the Gospel and regular readings of Scripture, standing in line with other admitted sinners to confess your worst moments and the chorus of voices participating in the mass.
When you think about that-- about what the Church really stands for-- it should be easier to forgo the fad. The Catholic Church (and really Christendom, if we’re going to get down to it) can be encompassed in a favorite family maxim: “This isn’t about you.” Or perhaps more elegantly put, by Pope Benedict XVI: "The world promises you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness." I shan't be returning to that "independent news source" soon, but it makes me more sure of what I think one of my callings shall be in this life. See? Even bad things can be used for the glory of God!
Today is also the feast of St. Aloysius Gonzoga, a Jesuit priest who gave up world wealth and comfort to serve and catechize the poor. Here’s a fact about him too: he died at age 23. That cut a little close to home for me, seeing as I too shall be 23 in 9 months (or so). It certainly makes a person think about the type of life they’re living.
This song came on Pandora today and it made me smile because Bear and I used to dance around the room to it:
Happy Summer Solstice! New favorite thing: video gchat. Yay for talking to Vivian in Georgia!
Within a couple grafs, she came out as gay and her bio below the article says she is on the leadership teams for a Call to Action Next Generation and the Women’s Ordination Council, which offended my Catholic sensibilities more than her homosexual inclinations, because people are going to be gay, just like people are going to be liars and lushes and lechers, but not all are going to fight the very system they voluntarily subscribe to. Another complementing article entitled “Compromised hierarchy needs relational wisdom of women” lamented the Church’s refusal to even discuss women becoming priests. Pardon my colloquialism, but DUH—no surprise there. That’s basic Church teaching. That will never change, nor should it.
Then an article on the “Catholic Club” and people judging others’ Catholicity and how it doesn’t matter if a person is a liberal, moderate or conservative Catholic. I was becoming the train wreck I had begun to read, with absolute disbelief at the way the Church was being used and abused in the articles. Perhaps I do it to myself. I read too much. Moreover, I read parts of the comments sections, home of the sometimes insightful but oftentimes ignorant comments which oftentimes do nothing to edify or expand upon the conversation prompted by the above article.
Can one be a liberal or moderate or conservative Catholic? I think the same question could extend to all Christians in general. I do not think one can. Either one lives by the Gospel teachings or one does not. People are fallen, so of course they are going to trip along the way, but do they forsake the map for their shortcut or do they continue to struggle upwards on the steep path? If you’re a Catholic, though, that means you follow God, whose vehicle is Rome. It doesn’t mean you pick and choose the parts of the Catechism or Bible to follow. Catholicism encompasses and permeates one’s whole life and will, even against resistance. As a girl I went to high school with, who told me she left the Church in college, “It’s harder to quit than smoking.”
Even in this egalitarian world, there are still people whose opinion we value higher than our own. There are still rights and wrongs, which cannot to be confused with preferences or opinions. This is the point of the Church, to lead the flock. The Church is incredibly beautiful and intellectual, appealing to simplistic minds as much as analytical ones. The Church makes decisions to help lead towards the happiness of another, better life. The Church is not as outmoded, either. Time is on the Church’s side: Truth is not another passing fancy, like pogs or wearing leggings as pants.
In other words, it’s a classic. And similar to other classics, like penny loafers and big bows on little girls, it’s the understated elegance of the Church that draws people in: the humbling of self before the alter, the moving of fingers along the rosary beads, making the sign of the cross before meals, the declaration of the Gospel and regular readings of Scripture, standing in line with other admitted sinners to confess your worst moments and the chorus of voices participating in the mass.
When you think about that-- about what the Church really stands for-- it should be easier to forgo the fad. The Catholic Church (and really Christendom, if we’re going to get down to it) can be encompassed in a favorite family maxim: “This isn’t about you.” Or perhaps more elegantly put, by Pope Benedict XVI: "The world promises you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness." I shan't be returning to that "independent news source" soon, but it makes me more sure of what I think one of my callings shall be in this life. See? Even bad things can be used for the glory of God!
Today is also the feast of St. Aloysius Gonzoga, a Jesuit priest who gave up world wealth and comfort to serve and catechize the poor. Here’s a fact about him too: he died at age 23. That cut a little close to home for me, seeing as I too shall be 23 in 9 months (or so). It certainly makes a person think about the type of life they’re living.
This song came on Pandora today and it made me smile because Bear and I used to dance around the room to it:
Happy Summer Solstice! New favorite thing: video gchat. Yay for talking to Vivian in Georgia!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Jake and Elwood Blues ain't got nothin' on Julie and Laura
Today is the birthday of William Butler Yeats! Here's my ode to the great Irish poet and dramatist:
"To a Child Dancing in the Wind"
Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water's roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the salt drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool's triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best labourer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of wind?
and
"To Ireland in the Coming Times"
Now, that I would accounted be
True brother of a company
That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong,
Ballad and story, rann and song;
Nor be I any less of them,
Because the red-rose-bordered hem
Of her, whose history began
Before God made the angelic clan,
Trails all about the written page.
When Time began to rant and rage
The measure of her flying feet
Made Ireland's heart begin to beat;
And Time bade all his candles flare
To light a measure here and there;
And may the thoughts of Ireland brood
Upon a measured quietude.
Nor may I less be counted one
With Davis, Mangan, Ferguson,
Because, to him who ponders well,
My rhymes more than their rhyming tell
Of things discovered in the deep,
Where only body's laid asleep.
For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind;
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune!
While still I may, I write for you
The love I lived, the dream I knew.
From our birthday, until we die,
Is but the winking of an eye;
And we, our singing and our love,
What measurer Time has lit above,
And all benighted things that go
About my table to and fro,
Are passing on to where may be,
In truth's consuming ecstasy,
No place for love and dream at all;
For God goes by with white footfall.
I cast my heart into my rhymes,
That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
and, per recommendation of the statehouse reporter from West Virginia sitting behind me,
"The Secret Rose"
Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose,
Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those
Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre,
Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir
And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep
Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep
Men have named beauty. Thy great leaves enfold
The ancient beards, the helms of ruby and gold
Of the crowned Magi; and the king whose eyes
Saw the pierced Hands and Rood of elder rise
In Druid vapour and make the torches dim;
Till vain frenzy awoke and he died; and him
Who met Fand walking among flaming dew
By a grey shore where the wind never blew,
And lost the world and Emer for a kiss;
And him who drove the gods out of their liss,
And till a hundred morns had flowered red
Feasted, and wept the barrows of his dead;
And the proud dreaming king who flung the crown
And sorrow away, and calling bard and clown
Dwelt among wine-stained wanderers in deep woods:
And him who sold tillage, and house, and goods,
And sought through lands and islands numberless years,
Until he found, with laughter and with tears,
A woman of so shining loveliness
That men threshed corn at midnight by a tress,
A little stolen tress. I, too, await
The hour of thy great wind of love and hate.
When shall the stars be blown about the sky,
Like the sparks blown out of a smithy, and die?
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
Yeats is really great, but I wonder how many people read him beyond "The Second Coming." Do you know what isn't done enough today? Making kids memorize poems. They memorize lots of things; why not good poetry? Then perhaps they'd appreciate better literary quality when they're older. No one would read books like the Twilight series after devouring Tennyson.
Today is also the feast day of St. Anthony of Padua! He's a Doctor of the Church and was canonized only a year after his death. He died at age 36, only 10 years after joining the Franciscans, and was known as the Malleus hereticorum, or "Hammer of Heretics." He is a personal favorite and friend of mine, especially as I am constantly calling upon his intervention to find lost items. My parents say I have a personal connection to him because I usually find what I had been looking for within moments of asking for help, but that seems to be the typical response of anyone who asks for his help. I think the difference is between people who ask and people who don't.
For example-- Rach, you'll enjoy this-- it was dinnertime at Kappa two semesters ago and Cervini came in being dramatic about having lost something and getting into a tizzy and Sarah (Rachel's awesome little, for all the non-KKG readers) shouts from the kitchen to pray to St. Anthony (to a mainly Protestant audience, I should add). Well, dubious side-looks aside, Cervini found what she was looking for and for at least the next week, it was hilarious to hear Kappas going around saying things like, "You can't find ____? Go ask Sarah to pray about it!" :)
Laura and I are currently hanging out at the Corner Bakery until we leave for our flight out of Chicago. Our waiter pretended to have a heart attack while bringing over my panini. He's hilarious and is chatting up his entire section/ impromptu dancing. We certainly have met a lot of characters this trip. We've also spent time with friends and I had the blessed chance to be in Chicago the same weekend part of my family was in town for my aunt's graduation from her masters' program. I have had a splendid time, to say the least. It was wonderful to see and spend time with so many good, dear people. Columbus is fun, but it's currently missing a few crucial pieces to my life puzzle.
The conference was really great and informative and it gave me the reassurance that I'm going about my job in the right way. My current goal for the next year is establish a presence at the Statehouse, recruit lots of college journalists and make BI another venue to publish them (i.e. more clips! a win-win for both parties), create a syndication system with the small Ohio newspapers (eventually moving into the larger papers) and generally create the base of a small news bureau with a large reach. If I can get the news bureau to function without me (hypothetically speaking) in the next year or less, I will be a very happy reporter. I'll also bring more attention to Buckeye, which is also needed, so I am excited to get back to Columbus and start tapping into the potential more.
Something I discovered this weekend: Mercatus, George Mason's economic research center, which is too fantastic for words. First article on the page: "The Roaring Twenties and the Austrian Business Cycle" (which is a working paper that I am currently reading- tres bien!) My favorite is "The Death of Fiscal Federalism," a concept that I hold very dear to my limited government-loving heart. This is a really great organization and I am excited to read and delve deeper into what they do and pursue.
Also, here's a great lede in a recent article by George Will:
"WASHINGTON - Under the current imperfect administration of the Universe, most new ideas are false, so most ideas for improvements make matters worse. Given California’s parlous condition, making matters worse there requires ingenuity, but voters managed to do so last Tuesday."
I think Laura and I might leave our bags at the hotel and wander down to the Chicago Blues Festival for a bit. Our flight isn't till 5 and I adore live music. Betsy is coming to stay with me for the next 3 days since she'll be student teaching in Columbus for 3 days. So much happiness to see my dear friend. Happy Sunday, y'all!
"To a Child Dancing in the Wind"
Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water's roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the salt drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool's triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best labourer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of wind?
and
"To Ireland in the Coming Times"
Now, that I would accounted be
True brother of a company
That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong,
Ballad and story, rann and song;
Nor be I any less of them,
Because the red-rose-bordered hem
Of her, whose history began
Before God made the angelic clan,
Trails all about the written page.
When Time began to rant and rage
The measure of her flying feet
Made Ireland's heart begin to beat;
And Time bade all his candles flare
To light a measure here and there;
And may the thoughts of Ireland brood
Upon a measured quietude.
Nor may I less be counted one
With Davis, Mangan, Ferguson,
Because, to him who ponders well,
My rhymes more than their rhyming tell
Of things discovered in the deep,
Where only body's laid asleep.
For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind;
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune!
While still I may, I write for you
The love I lived, the dream I knew.
From our birthday, until we die,
Is but the winking of an eye;
And we, our singing and our love,
What measurer Time has lit above,
And all benighted things that go
About my table to and fro,
Are passing on to where may be,
In truth's consuming ecstasy,
No place for love and dream at all;
For God goes by with white footfall.
I cast my heart into my rhymes,
That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
and, per recommendation of the statehouse reporter from West Virginia sitting behind me,
"The Secret Rose"
Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose,
Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those
Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre,
Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir
And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep
Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep
Men have named beauty. Thy great leaves enfold
The ancient beards, the helms of ruby and gold
Of the crowned Magi; and the king whose eyes
Saw the pierced Hands and Rood of elder rise
In Druid vapour and make the torches dim;
Till vain frenzy awoke and he died; and him
Who met Fand walking among flaming dew
By a grey shore where the wind never blew,
And lost the world and Emer for a kiss;
And him who drove the gods out of their liss,
And till a hundred morns had flowered red
Feasted, and wept the barrows of his dead;
And the proud dreaming king who flung the crown
And sorrow away, and calling bard and clown
Dwelt among wine-stained wanderers in deep woods:
And him who sold tillage, and house, and goods,
And sought through lands and islands numberless years,
Until he found, with laughter and with tears,
A woman of so shining loveliness
That men threshed corn at midnight by a tress,
A little stolen tress. I, too, await
The hour of thy great wind of love and hate.
When shall the stars be blown about the sky,
Like the sparks blown out of a smithy, and die?
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
Yeats is really great, but I wonder how many people read him beyond "The Second Coming." Do you know what isn't done enough today? Making kids memorize poems. They memorize lots of things; why not good poetry? Then perhaps they'd appreciate better literary quality when they're older. No one would read books like the Twilight series after devouring Tennyson.
Today is also the feast day of St. Anthony of Padua! He's a Doctor of the Church and was canonized only a year after his death. He died at age 36, only 10 years after joining the Franciscans, and was known as the Malleus hereticorum, or "Hammer of Heretics." He is a personal favorite and friend of mine, especially as I am constantly calling upon his intervention to find lost items. My parents say I have a personal connection to him because I usually find what I had been looking for within moments of asking for help, but that seems to be the typical response of anyone who asks for his help. I think the difference is between people who ask and people who don't.
For example-- Rach, you'll enjoy this-- it was dinnertime at Kappa two semesters ago and Cervini came in being dramatic about having lost something and getting into a tizzy and Sarah (Rachel's awesome little, for all the non-KKG readers) shouts from the kitchen to pray to St. Anthony (to a mainly Protestant audience, I should add). Well, dubious side-looks aside, Cervini found what she was looking for and for at least the next week, it was hilarious to hear Kappas going around saying things like, "You can't find ____? Go ask Sarah to pray about it!" :)
Laura and I are currently hanging out at the Corner Bakery until we leave for our flight out of Chicago. Our waiter pretended to have a heart attack while bringing over my panini. He's hilarious and is chatting up his entire section/ impromptu dancing. We certainly have met a lot of characters this trip. We've also spent time with friends and I had the blessed chance to be in Chicago the same weekend part of my family was in town for my aunt's graduation from her masters' program. I have had a splendid time, to say the least. It was wonderful to see and spend time with so many good, dear people. Columbus is fun, but it's currently missing a few crucial pieces to my life puzzle.
The conference was really great and informative and it gave me the reassurance that I'm going about my job in the right way. My current goal for the next year is establish a presence at the Statehouse, recruit lots of college journalists and make BI another venue to publish them (i.e. more clips! a win-win for both parties), create a syndication system with the small Ohio newspapers (eventually moving into the larger papers) and generally create the base of a small news bureau with a large reach. If I can get the news bureau to function without me (hypothetically speaking) in the next year or less, I will be a very happy reporter. I'll also bring more attention to Buckeye, which is also needed, so I am excited to get back to Columbus and start tapping into the potential more.
Something I discovered this weekend: Mercatus, George Mason's economic research center, which is too fantastic for words. First article on the page: "The Roaring Twenties and the Austrian Business Cycle" (which is a working paper that I am currently reading- tres bien!) My favorite is "The Death of Fiscal Federalism," a concept that I hold very dear to my limited government-loving heart. This is a really great organization and I am excited to read and delve deeper into what they do and pursue.
Also, here's a great lede in a recent article by George Will:
"WASHINGTON - Under the current imperfect administration of the Universe, most new ideas are false, so most ideas for improvements make matters worse. Given California’s parlous condition, making matters worse there requires ingenuity, but voters managed to do so last Tuesday."
I think Laura and I might leave our bags at the hotel and wander down to the Chicago Blues Festival for a bit. Our flight isn't till 5 and I adore live music. Betsy is coming to stay with me for the next 3 days since she'll be student teaching in Columbus for 3 days. So much happiness to see my dear friend. Happy Sunday, y'all!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I love pie!
Have I ever mentioned my huge weakness for pie? Huge. Specifically fruit pies: apple, cherry, peach, blackberry and even blueberry--oh, and cobbler. Cobbler is also delectable.
Today is my 3 day mark of working in the real world. I've survived my new job 3 days. I have 2 more days and then I will have survived a week.
That is why I am eating pie. Well, that, and my Aunt Nancy makes the best fruit pies ever. They're also healthy, due to a sufficient lack of over-sugarizing it, so the guilt-factor is way, way down.
I don't have a lot to say on the subject of work, seeing as I've only had 3 days of it, but it is going to be hard and a lot of work and I think I'm going to like it a lot. One of my first assignments includes interviewing every member of the Ohio Statehouse legislature (99 Reps, 33 Senators), all of whom are up for re-election in the fall minus half the Senate, as well as the Governor. Next year is a Budget year too, so this is going to be a ruthless next few months.
I'm staying with my cousin and her family this week until I move into my apartment this weekend. I get to play with her 7 month baby, which makes me so happy. I love babies. I helped raise all my siblings, spent the last 3 years with the 5 Siegels kids and now I'm going to feel baby deprived for a while since my cousins are moving to GA in 3 weeks, where my cousin's husband is going to practice medicine (he specializes in ENT). I'm reading 3 books right now, which is a little naughty, only because I am trying to read sequentially, but I think multi-reading (a form of multi-tasking) is a habit I picked up in college, and not easily broken. I haven't been writing as much as I've wanted, but I only graduated 3 weeks ago and they've all been a blur. I have been writing letters, though, and thank you notes. I do love writing letters and look forward to writing lots this summer.
My June is booked, as of today. My cousins are coming to Columbus the first weekend; I go to training for Buckeye with Laura (the other journalist hired) the second week with the other reporters from the other 49 state-based think tanks; Michigan the third week for a Hillsdale friend's wedding (Cara, who used to coach soccer with me!); home the fourth week for Muff's Shakespeare performance on Friday and a triple party on Saturday (Mike's high school graduation party, my graduation party and my parents' 25th wedding anniversary party).
I went to a luncheon today where my boss was the keynote speaker and all I can think about is how much work I'm going to be doing and how needed my work is to help turn around Ohio. Perhaps that over exaggerates my importance in the scheme of things, but I like knowing I'll be helping contribute to an accountability in government and a chipping away at an ignorance too many constituents (myself readily included) have about state and local politics, as well as help make much needed reformations. If Ohio does not increase anything in the budget next year, for example, at this point, we'll still be 8 million dollars in debt even before we've started spending more money. That makes me a little sick to my stomach.
Here's to eating pie!
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