I listen to Eminem when I am raking the yard. If this is surprising to you, I understand. It isn't that I find his music particularly inspiring; though it is moving and I am trying to figure out why. I kind of enjoy it and that is a surprise to me. However, I am a forced participant. The high school plays Eminem over it's stadium loud speakers, and the high school is basically in my back yard. So, thank you Lafayette HS, for my very loud, very Eminem, Saturday soundtrack. To accompany what would be an otherwise boring scene.
There are other things going on. Helicopters (hospital 2 blocks down), trains (tracks across the road), Fire engines (Fire house around the block), and the high school band that apparently wants to be THE best band in the universe and practices 6 days a week (the same song!). This may simultaneously be both the nicest and loudest neighborhood experience I have ever had.
Somehow I stood in the middle of the yard this afternoon and worshiped. Yes, to Eminem...sort of. I don't know. The breeze was causing the crispy brown leaves to rustle and dance, my children were being children, Nick was being Nick, and the bright blue sky was alive with light and sound. I was comforted maybe by the brazen humanity that accompanied all this quite beauty. Possibly I was eased by the familiarity in the sounds of struggle and frustration and fight. I think the stark contrast was the thing. Loveliness and life, fallen-ness and frustration. I am still not reconciled to the feeling and am not sure if it was holy or fleshly but it was mine.
I do occasionally find "me" in all these little clips of life that are so generally about everything else.
There are other things going on. Helicopters (hospital 2 blocks down), trains (tracks across the road), Fire engines (Fire house around the block), and the high school band that apparently wants to be THE best band in the universe and practices 6 days a week (the same song!). This may simultaneously be both the nicest and loudest neighborhood experience I have ever had.
But serenity; it is just around the corner. I hope.
Somehow I stood in the middle of the yard this afternoon and worshiped. Yes, to Eminem...sort of. I don't know. The breeze was causing the crispy brown leaves to rustle and dance, my children were being children, Nick was being Nick, and the bright blue sky was alive with light and sound. I was comforted maybe by the brazen humanity that accompanied all this quite beauty. Possibly I was eased by the familiarity in the sounds of struggle and frustration and fight. I think the stark contrast was the thing. Loveliness and life, fallen-ness and frustration. I am still not reconciled to the feeling and am not sure if it was holy or fleshly but it was mine.
I do occasionally find "me" in all these little clips of life that are so generally about everything else.
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