Random book notes

Some notes scribbled on an index card inside the book "Abba's Child" by Brennan Manning that I found

In my struggle to surrender to God's will, I am constantly bumping into the obstacle of overcoming my False Self and living in and living out the true Me that He has created me to be. This False Self was born out of my own need to compensate for a lack of love, acceptance, and out of a need to find an all around safety that eluded me growing up. Thus I created-- no, this I *let in* the impostor of False Self-- Compulsively seeking that "perfect image" for everyone else to see, to admire; ensuring attention without ever really being known.

Sometimes, as was inevitable, the facade cracked, ad in those bright cold moments, when my True Self became apparent, I was crushed by the failure of both my who I was under all that protection, and by the inability to maintain that 'perfect:" face.

As glamourous and fashionably deceptive as my large Jackie-O flasses-- my glittering False Self blinds me from the Light and Truth of my emptiness and hollow loneliness. The glitter of this falseness holds a perception of light, a lie that distorts my reality and diminishes my capacity to distinguish Truth.

The imposter is keen to the exact natrure, color, shape and size of all the veils I use to glamorously cover my broken emptiness. Weight, Hair, Skin, Makeup, Clothes, Speech, Intellegence, Money, Recognition, Power... all centering in being noticed rather than known. How I crave compliments! How my False Self shudders with delight in catching someone watching me. A flirtatious smile glitters off my veil of Conceit, my coverings, like blood diamonds, sparkle under the manufactured lights and settings.

a Soundtrack Journal of my State of Mind

There is so much going on right now, in this crazy season of decisions, transitions, trust and faith. Hard times have caused my plastic mask to lose its luster and crack and its been interesting to see the relationships that have remained constant, that have fallen to the wayside and that have grown in response. The Maria that glitters and sparkles to keep out the probes that might find the insecurity is being replaced by a broken and more honest Maria. Where the newly exposed skin peeks out, it is raw and sensitive to the sun… I find myself hiding from they daylight hours and nursing the tender surface… still not ready to thicken it with exposure, to let commitment and conflict callus over parts that need to do work.

In the process of this growth and hiding, I’ve found myself really turning to my music. Here are the tracks that have been carrying me on their notes and caressing me with their lyrics.

·         “All We Are” Matt Nathanson
“I kept falling over/I kept looking backward/I went broke believing/That the simple should be hard”

·         “Turn to Stone” Ingrid Michaelson
“Let’s go to sleep with clearer heads/And hearts to big to fit our beds/And maybe we won’t feel so alone/Before we turn to stone”

·         “Gravity” Sara Bareillis
“Set me free, let me be/I don’t want to fall another moment on to your gravity/Here I am, and I stand so tall/I’m just the way I’m supposed to be.”

·         “Quequ’un M’a Dit” Carla Bruni

·         “Crash and Burn” Savage Garden
“When you feel all alone/ a loyal friend is hard to find/ you’re caught on a one way street/with monsters in your head/ when hopes and dreams are far away/You feel like you can’t face the day”

·         “Rain”
“its hard to know when to give up the fight/Some things you want will just never be right/ its never rained like it has tonight before”

·         “Twenty four” Switchfoot
“All of my symphonies/With twenty-four parts /Life is not what I thought it was /Twenty-four hours ago/Still I'm singing 'Spirit, take me up in arms with You/ I'm not copping out /Not copping out “

·         “You’re Not Alone” Meredith Andrews
“With heartache your closest friend/and Everyone else long gone/you had to face the music on your own/But there is a sweeter song that calls you home singing/you’re not alone, for I am here/let me wipe away your every tear.”

·         “Naked as we Come” Iron & Wine

·         “Jueves” La Oreja de Van Gogh

·         “Lonely Tonight” Matt Wertz

·         “I am still Running” Jon Foreman
“In my darkest fears the rights become the wrongs/ I am still running, I am still running I am still running I am still running “

·         “Close Your Eyes” Dave Barnes

·         “Brandy Alexander” Feist

·         “Sober” Pink
“I don’t want to be that girl that has to fill the silence/The quiet scares me cuz it screams the truth”

·         “May Angels Bring you In” Jimmy Eat World

·          “Untitled” Kira Haddock

·         “Heard the World” OAR
“Holding my breath tight, trying to keep my head on right./There's a chill in the air, nobody could care /How you're caught up in the fight of your life.”

·         “Silent All These Years” Tori Amos

NaNo tidbits

People talk of sorrow as if it was soft, fluid and yielding, of drowning it its waters, being bathed by its tears. They talk about it as if it had a soft caress, comforting even. True sorrow isn’t soft. True sorrow is a thing of jagged rock surrounded by hungry, licking flames. It burns your heart, your motivations, your desires in such a blaze of white-hot heat that not even the ashes can tell the tale of what once was. It crushes your soul under the weight of mountains, squashing out every breath, immobilizing every limb so that your fingers can’t even twitch as you search for the air to scream. It steals your ability to fight, from the inside out. The person you were, dies. Gone. Everything solid, is ash. Gone. Everything real. Gone. Everything solid, real, tangible. Gone.

********************

Vergissmeinnicht

The sun was sinking in a violent slash of crimson like a fresh wound, just beginning to pucker and bleed. Purple and blue clouds blossomed in the west, slowly changing colors with the iridescence of day old bruises. Mist floated over the park like waiting ghosts, so low to the ground that it almost felt drizzling rain, suspended, afraid to find its way all the way to the bottom. Tiny beads of moisture clung to my body, decorating my skin and hair like tiny shining pearls, like tears