Self Realization & Discovery

Regret is an intelligent (and/or emotional) dislike for personal past acts and behaviors. Regret is often felt when someone feels sadness, shame, or guilt after committing an action or actions that the person later wishes that he or she had not done. Regret is distinct from guilt, which is a deeply emotional form of regret — one which may be difficult to comprehend in an objective or conceptual way. In this regard, the concept of regret is subordinate to guilt in terms of its "emotional power." By comparison, shame typically refers to the social (rather than personal) aspect of guilt or (in minor context) regret as imposed by the society or culture (enforcement of ethics, morality), which has substantial bearing in matters of (personal and social) honor.

Regret can describe not only the dislike for an action that has been committed, but also, importantly, regret of inaction. Many people find themselves wishing that they had done something in a past situation.

- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regret_(emotion)

I heart wikipedia. This was one of the greatest definitions i have been able to find.

I have been recently been digging through my mind and its cozy little nooks, and pulling things out that I have given second guesses to. A majority of things have slipped under the radar as merely "mistakes of my youth". I haven't deemed them bad enough to actually attach an emotion to them.

However, one such action/event/occurrence (and yes, the offense repeats as well) struck me, as it has never before. I can't disclose all the gory details, partly, because I am still working through this, and partly because it can affect others. I am not sure if its my new found sense of self, that I look at myself differently, or if its due to merely a mix of hormones, but I have begun to regret my past.

I am not completely sure what sparked this new notion. I recognize this new found feeling as dealing with some thing on a direct violation of my initial true desires in life. Perhaps that is why I was thinking about it. I believe I was thinking about my life's hopes and dreams, and how a large part of them have crashed before me, starting with this one particular falling.

When I was younger I was convinced of this:

That I would have met my loved one in college. We would've gotten married by the time I was 24 and he would've been my only one. By the time I was 26 I would've landed a phenomenal anchor position or at least a producer, while my husband was either a teacher or a youth minister and we had a fabulous church life. If i chose to go back to grad school, that would've been fine, but not necessarily the top priority in my life, which would've been starting a family. By the time I was 30 I'd have at least 2 children, and one of them out of diapers.

HA! That is completely wrong! I am not any of those things or in any position to have any of those things. And honestly, that makes me slightly sad. It does make me wonder where things fell.

I am starting to recognize my actions as more than just things that I do. They have consequences, results. They affect other people at times as well. Sure if I eat my bag of carrots for lunch or choose to get chocolate from the vending machine that might not necessarily have an affect on someone, however, what I do behind closed doors does (yes, I'm getting a little risque here). Perhaps my new self is recognizing my spirit a little more and I am worried about how my actions will affect my future (here on earth and above - hopefully above, i would not want to be below).

I am learning that although regret is a valid emotion, it is empty. There is not much you can actually do about the regret you face. It's over and done, and really you can't go back. But what I can do, is go forward. I can change things as I continue my journey in life. I can stick to my guns and not let someone sweet talk me in to mischief. You know who you are, no more mischief!!

Mean Girl...

blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy

Apparently, i am on the track of blogging about what we discussed in bible study the night before. I think this is a good thing, because it's helping me see parts of myself that i am not sure i have really looked at before.

At the beginning of group, we talked about the differences of Mercy and Grace. I have still not yet grasped the concept, but i thought these interpretations were good:

Mercy is when you aren't given what you do deserve and
grace is what you are given when you don't deserve it.

I feel like the definitions of these words are hard. I said last night for me, when I hear mercy, all i can think of is being kids, and having someone twist your arm until you call for "mercy" or uncle. But in these definitions, I can begin to see some separation.

After a few examples of mercy and grace, our pastor talked about the necessity of the combination of mercy and forgiveness. He brought up that when someone has wronged you, you then hold a type of power over them. Most of us choose to turn that power into a search for justice for rights to be wronged. But until we offer mercy, we can not truly forgive the other. It is easy for us to point out the flaws in others. We can sit back and say, I'm better because i didn't do such and such. However, it isn't until we realize that that type of self-righteousness is just as damaging as the original transgression that we can offer true mercy.

As we discussed this, i realized that for myself, this was very true in the case of Patterson. Four years, he said I'm sorry to me. Over and over, apologizing for his wrongs against me. All i ever said back to him, was you don't get it, you hurt me, you did me wrong, you hurt me... All i wanted was justice, for him to see and feel the pain he caused me all these years. I wanted to see that he "got" how hurt i was, that he could feel his heart ripped out and torn in to pieces. I wanted justice, i wanted the situation to be "righted".

blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy

My fight for justice began to crack in November when I visited him for the first time in four years. I was able to ask him questions, and see on his face how much it pained him to tell me the truth. I was able to see how truly sorry he was for the pain he caused. I could see it on his heart. But i still wasn't over anything, i still held it, in this quiet power, that no one but me knew about.

I don't really know what is was in June. I can't pin point it quite exactly, other then i remember many conversations surrounding forgiveness. The most influential followed along the lines of saying the one who does not forgive is just as sinful as the one who originally sinned. For a bit I laughed that off, but then i realized that it is true. My heart was turning colder and colder, and spiritually, i wasn't going to grow, until I let it go. I also realized, that not forgiving someone, especially after they had apologized is causing damage on that person. They need to hear that they have been forgiven, or else they will wander about with this weight of sin, and that is not fair either.


My Aha moment came, and I wrote Patterson a note. In that note, I apologized for being the mean girl I am, and told him that finally, after years, I have truly forgiven him. Me having this "power" was not doing anyone good, and was certainly not making our relationship any healthier. I knew it could only grow if we pruned the bad parts off and that meant me starting with a completely clean slate.

blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy

Our pastor said that I showed great mercy. I am not quite sure how i feel about that. I guess i could make up this picture in my head of Patterson stomping on my toe, and then saying sorry, but i can muster up is to twist his arm until he screams mercy. I think in our instance, God screamed Mercy. He said it needed to be given, and I finally came to understand what it meant.

All I hope and pray for now is God's Grace to be cast upon Patterson and I. Perhaps we can be granted Godly things that we may not deserve and be spared the things we do. I pray that I am shown mercy, that I am spared being ridiculed for having been so mean and selfish. But that all comes in God's time I guess...

blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy

Badges of Honor.

Badges of honor

Part historic preservation, part act of defiance, the spray-painted markings of Katrina rescue workers remain prominently displayed on many reoccupied New Orleans homes.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Chris Rose

X marks the spot. And the spot is everywhere.

Two years later, the hieroglyphs of catastrophe still deface the city's surviving housing stock like some demented 90-square-mile contest of post-diluvian tic-tac-toe. X, zero, X, zero, ad infinitum.

Hurricane Katrina seemed to unloose the closeted spray paint taggers among the ranks of our military and animal rescue communities. Some used restraint in their duties, making small, tight Xs with only necessary coded information therein -- date, division, dead, moving counter-clockwise from the top.

Others, particularly some animal folks, wandered off course and a handwriting analyst might find delusions of grandeur in some of the oversized lettering and urgency of their painted scrawlings.

Imagine coming back to New Orleans from exile -- to a home that suffered neither wind nor water damage -- only to be faced with a $6,000 exterior paint job because some well-meaning but overzealous grad student on leave from Swarthmore branded CAT UNDER HOUSE in red 2,000-point type across the front of your house.

In retrospect, there was something almost biblical about those markings on all the front doors around here, posting notice of who was spared and who was not.

And that is why, perhaps, many in the region who have moved back into their homes and gotten on with their lives have purposely preserved the markings left behind by those who patrolled our streets while we cowered elsewhere in front of televisions wondering what fate would be ours.

The sun has bleached out many of the markings with a Southern exposure all this time later. But many remain brightly resplendent in the full array of Crayola color selections employed by the National Guard.

All of this came to mind recently as I began to notice the contrast in glyph preservation among area neighborhoods.

Bywater seems to be the largest preserve of the crisis markings, more than, say, Lakeview or Broadmoor or anywhere else where most occupied homes have received full makeovers.

Perhaps it's due to the somewhat bohemian tilt of the Bywater neighborhood, with its cultivated affection for the offbeat, the unusual and the just plain weird.

I randomly knocked on David Peltier's door on Montegut Street to inquire of the status of his remaining glyph, inscribed "9/6" (that it was 2005 goes without saying) and "Tx," the signature of the Texas Guard.

"You don't like our mark of distinction?" he asked sarcastically. Then, on a more serious note, he said: "It's part of our history now. It would be hard to just wipe it away. It's unique to this city."

As an afterthought he also noted: "And besides, it's orange," a comment which left me puzzled until he held open his front door to reveal an interior design dominated by . . . everything orange.

Peltier's neighbor down the block, Robert LaGrange, said complacency and budget play a role in the neighborhood glyph preservation.

"I noticed that a lot of homes around here were painted just before the storm," he said. "I guess like a lot of folks around here, I'll just let mine fade away on its own."

Farther down the block, at the corner of Montegut and Chartres, the glass sculptor Mitchell Gaudet's home is adorned with an iron replica of the existing glyph, superimposed over the original painted marking, a bold statement of intent to never let the memory fade away.

Memory is why Ellen Murdock kept her yellow-orange signature of the California Guard on her house on Vincennes Place in Fontainebleau.

"When people come to my house, especially friends from out of town, they say: 'Oh, you've got to get rid of that,' " she said. "I tell them: Katrina changed my life. I'm in no hurry to get rid of it. It's a reminder of what happened, and when I look at it every time I walk in my door, I definitely think about what it all means.

"Then my friends see the same marks on all the other houses and it really brings home the message of what happened here. I'm just glad there are zeros on it and not a 1," she added, a reference to the ominous number reserved for the bottom space of the X marking, the space that denotes how many bodies were found inside the house.

It stands in good reason that few such markings will be preserved for posterity's sake.

Edward Rogers, over on Delachaise Street in Broadmoor, will have none of this talk of nostalgia. He whitewashed his two glyphs, content to leave white blobs on his house rather than all those cryptic messages.

"It was sickening looking at it," he said. "Disgusting. Those Xs and Ys and whatever; they did a whole lot of unnecessary writing. I don't want that on my house. I don't want to remember that. I don't need a souvenir."

He paused to consider the preservation rationales offered by those living in Bywater. And then he spit contemptuously.

"History!?" he said. "The man that told you that -- they need to send him to a psychiatrist."

. . . . . . .

Columnist Chris Rose can be reached at chris.rose@timespicayune.com; or at (504) 352-2535 or (504) 826-3309.

Potterpalloza!

Marian and I had our books reserved, well ahead of time. We had discussed going to Upstairs on the Square for their special “Harry Potter” feast, but unfortunately, when I went to make reservations, we realized, that we had missed the opportunity as they were booked from 5pm – 1am!
Friday, we began our endeavor. We met up surprisingly at Downtown Crossing around 4:45pm. We walked out the doors and on to the side walk of Hogwart's Square (aka Harvard Square) at 5:05pm and the line for our reserved wrist band had already formed from the Coop’s Alley entry, towards Border Café, around to the Body Shop and down in front of the Main Entrance of the Coop. We, of course, were quite towards the end. The rules clearly stated no line could form before 4:30, but I highly doubt that is what happened. While in line, we tried to befriend those in front and behind us. It was going to be a long wait, why not be friendly. However, the guys in front of us smelled something awful and the kids behind us had no interest in talking to us.

The line moved in spurts due to the tyrannical nature of the Movie Theatre which “needed” 15 feet of space clear so that patrons could get in to the theatre. Sorry folks – no one is going to see your movies today!

At this same time, we kept calling Crimson to see if we should pick up her wrist band. She never responded. We called a lot of times. And then we started to text message.

FINALLY, we made it to the wrist bands. We had to pass men with too much power that kept yelling stay to the left (which I whole-heartedly ignored) and the very l-a-r-g-e man who told us which line to go in (which I whole-heartedly listened too, he could’ve killed me with his fist). Marian got her wrist band and Crimsons, I got mine, and we were off to find food. It was now about 7:40pm. Crimson finally got back to us, letting us know she was in NH and would hopefully make it by 12

We ate at Flat Patty’s which I must say, I don’t hate, but I don’t love. They had a nifty cheesecake burrito thingy that was scrumptious. We then had our complimentary hand treatment at LUSH and then decided to get some dessert before we needed to get on line again at 10 to actually get our books at 12:01. Finale was having special Harry Potter products such as “Dark Lord Decadence” and “Magical Molten something”. Unfortunately the waitress wasn’t so in to this theme and called them by their regular names. They were wonderful and rich and fantastic, and yummy…. At 9:40pm we figured we should head over to prepare to get on line.

By the time we went from Finale to the Coop, the line was already from the Coop’s main entrance down to the Body Shop. I kept saying, “at least we haven’t turned around too many corners. It’s almost a straight shot!” We did make friends with those behind us, Joanna and Emily. Very nice girls and we had fun doing the HP puzzles and what not. Crimson had arrived around 11:30ish – maybe a little later – with her beau. He’s not a huge HP fan so he wanted out as soon as possible. He wandered around by Curious George and other book stores and then called Crimson and said “I think the news stand is selling them”. We all laughed it off.

12:01 struck and there were 4 count-downs because no one has the correct time! The line moved a little bit as fans rushed in to buy their books. At 12:10 (maybe) the Beau appeared with 2 tote bags containing 2 books each! He had gotten them from the new stand!!!!!!

Marian and I, although excited, were also quite frustrated. We had stood on line for 5 hours!! And they had been at the news stand! What?! But we had our books, so we were happy as well. It was quite a confusing time. We left our new friends and Beau drove us home where we both promptly began reading.

I feel asleep about 30 or so pages in. At 8:00 am I felt awake enough to continue the 759 page book. I finished at 1pm. Marian finished at about 8pm. Both of us having been drained from reading so much headed to IHOP for some grub and then hit the sack as soon we got home.

I know you are asking was it worth it? I have to say, I might never do it again, but the experience was 100% worth it. There is nothing else like it. Seeing people so dedicated to something they love so much. Yes. It was worth it.

And the book was great!

hungry, so hungry.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.

We have been re-studying the Sermon on the Mount in bible study. Every week, we get in to heated, intellectual discussions revolving around how we interpret different verses. Usually, they are hard to interpret. We have all these discussions about what does poor in spirit mean? or does meek mean weak or quite, docile? Do you have to be all these things? or are they some type of check list in life... something we hope to achieve before we enter through the gates.

For me, some of these verses, seem almost too simple to question or interpret. I have a hard time speaking up in group because I don't always feel comfortable, or confident in my response. However, when it comes to this specific verse, I am 100% confident in how I feel.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.

In my head and heart, I define righteousness as a synonym for justice. Other definitions include bring in accordance with virtue or morality, adhering to moral principles, the quality or state of being just or rightful, morally upright; without guilt or sin, etc....

This verse to me is almost the backbone of who I am. I believe that those of us, who seek for righteousness, who seek justice in a world that seems upside, in heaven, will be satisfied, will be fulfilled because the wrongs will be righted. Everyone will be on one playing field.

What is strange to me, is that this idea of being hungry, starving even for righteousness or justice is foreign to most people. Daily, I hunger for food, but never do I hunger for food as much I hunger for "the right thing" to be done today. I seek the good every day and am defeated by the bad, by the unjust, the immoral.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.

We were asked at the end of study, what areas in our character do we long to be more righteous and what areas of society to we long to see righteousness - and how do we achieve those? For me, I wanted to answer that in my character, I lack the faith side of righteousness. I seek social justice always. I want to fix the worlds injustices, I want to right the wrongs.

And I have always wanted to do that. It's just who I am. And to my knowledge, its how most people I know are. Or so I thought. I was shocked to hear one member of the group say that his initial reaction to most things, is to think of himself, how it affects him (will it benefit him? what would he get out of it). I was blown away that a group dedicated to working on the Common, forming relationships with those who are most poor in the city, we had members who thought this way. I could not, and still can not wrap my head around it.

I think that's when I realized how different I was. I realized that I see things completely different from most people out there. My initial response to almost anything is how can I fix it? What can I give to make it better for this person, cause, problem, etc...? How there are people who don't feel that on a constant basis is so foreign to me, so "out there". Why is compassion not their first response? Why do they not feel always compelled to do things for other, and place themselves second? What makes me do that?

Despite my lacking in faithful righteousness, I feel as though my works filled with selflessness, love and compassion perhaps make up for that. At times I feel less of a Christian because when I do things for others, I am not doing it because I am a Christian. Instead, I am one who does, and happens to be faithful. My faith does not bring me to do this - or does it?

Our pastor commented on being faithfully righteous. Because we are Christians, because we believe, we are already "right" with God. I am assured, through Christ, that in Heaven, I will be satisfied from the emptiness, defeat and hunger I feel now. And until then, I will continue to hunger and thirst for the earthly righteousness deserved by all, because in my heart of hearts, that is what we are called to do.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.

I've been down and out...

I've been having a lot of trouble lately staying afloat. Job searches, Chem tests, boys and life have been dragging me down like a cement block. As much as i try to put a positive spin on most things, i still have this creeping darkness that over comes whatever silver lining i seem to find. In the end it will be ok, and I know that to some degree. Everyone keeps saying, just think when you find that job, it will be one of the most perfect jobs for you (the same thing applies for those silly boys).

I guess what i need is patience. I can't seem to be satisfied with the things infront of me. I should be happy that i have a wonderful temp job at Oxfam - its an organization i highly respect and love (and the people here are wonderful).

I should be content with my singleness. It means not figuring out who will pay for dinner and what thing we're going to on Saturday and whose house we'll stay at. It's the ultimate freedom. And yet, i am still seeking. I made the decision to stay single after a date, and really, i am good with that decision. It's just hard to see people out and about with their loved ones. Just because i choose to be single right now doesn't mean i don't desire relationships. If that makes any sense.

My classes are going well, but is that going to be enough to actually get me in to grad school? Will i succeed and do the thing i really want, become a nurse, or are the struggles to get there going to wear me down to the point where i can not go on?



Its sounds so lame when i write it here, but i don't care, because this is me, and where I'm at. So what if I'm a little lame (or a lot lame). You'll all still be my friends? Right?

Jesus loves bikers too....

Saturday, i went to Ali's family's house to help out with a party. Ali's dad last year had gotten in to a motorcycle accident, and was in bad shape. Thanks to the medical team and friends and family, he pulled though, and is back on the bike. The party was to thank everyone for all the support given over the past year. A lot of people from their church and his christian biker group came over to partake in the festivities.

Ali and I also had wedding cupcakes to drop off. So we piled in the car, with 100 cupcakes, and a large flaming sheet cake in tow. Our neighbor commented on how we always go to parties, and that we must be cool. Ali and I laughed at that, if he only knew we thought.

We headed out on 93 to Hanson. On our way, we saw a Jeep get in to an accident. His tire blew, and he was only about 100 feet behind us. Thankfully we were far enough away and he controlled his vehicle as best as possible, no other cars were involved.

We arrived in Hanson about 10:30. Ali's mom said she had been waiting since 8am for us to get there. We expected there to be a TON of work to do, but in reality, a few veggies needed to be cut, and a few of the snacks needed to be put out on the tables, along with tablecloths and cutlery. Once we were done with that, Ali and I played on the trampolined for a good 30 minutes. It's really fun and not something i ever had growing up. I feared falling off like so many of those "funny home videos" i've seen.

Water balloons were our next task. We filled up about 70. It was hard work surprisingly. Guests began to arrive shortly there after. Ali and i were eventually assigned to food duty, her on the bbq, and me making sure everything was stocked. The food was fantastic and plentiful. Ali can make me a hot dog any old day. We eventually brought out the first batch of water balloons which went fairly quickly and Ali and i were back to making more. The second fight was quite excellent, barely anyone left dry!

We cleaned up, did a little more trampoline and wiffle ball and then i was taken out on the bike with Ali's dad. I LOVED IT. I was nervous at first, but once we got on the road, i thought it was so much fun. The faster he went the more i smiled! It was fantastic.

The ride sadly ended, Ali and i dropped off the cupcakes at Stinch's and we headed home where we slept forever. It was a great Saturday.

PS - please pray for Stinch's little sister who is at Children's hospital for an inflamed liver and gallbladder including gallstones. She is young and scared. Guide the medical staff to do their job thoroughly and swiftly.

cup-cake-mania amoung other things...

Sometimes at "work", I have time to do unnecessary on-line research about random things, like cupcakes. I have found them to be my new hobby and want to make many, many cupcakes, all different styles and decors.

My dear Marian was having a rough week, so i decided to try to calm her down with a relaxing Friday at home. This included her all time favorite chicken parmigiana calzone and special snack of scallops as well as freshly made cupcakes by moi. And then a movie, Best of Show.

The calzone and scallops were easy, all i had to do was call a number and they would come! I got to work on the cupcakes right away. I was making s'more cupcakes. This included a graham cracker bottom, a hershey kiss in the middle of the vanilla/graham cracker cake topped with marshmallow frosting with sprinkled graham crackers. There were a few issues. The graham cracker bottom didn't stick very well, sadly. It makes a mess every time you eat it. I feel as though there is not enough chocolate (i am thinking of substituting the vanilla cake for chocolate next time). And lastly, the marshmallow frosting is a bit too much sugar. I think i could've gotten away with less sugar added. Otherwise, they are delightful!

Marian, John and I ate our food and watched Best of Show to which John kept falling asleep and finally left and went to bed. Marian and i tried to watch a second movie, but both fell asleep. When i woke up, i had believed it was unbelievably late, when in actuality, it was only 10:30. I went to bed anyway. 'Cause I'm cool like that.