It's a Nice Day to go to the Beach.

I am back in sunny SoCal now, and I can truly say of today that it's a nice day to go to the beach . . . . BUT, with the hassle of that, and the price of gas, I'll just grab myself an iced mocha and sit in the back yard. While relaxing, I'll start on my summer reading list, which includes a book by Larry King about the art of talking to anyone, a biography of Ann Judson, a book about friendship, and the autobiography of Sarah Silverman.

California Dreamin'

I am currently in a state that is not California. It is a state "for lovers"(of the indoors.) Never once in the probably 30 weeks we've spent here in our 15 years have I thought, "This would be a nice day to go to the beach." The sun rarely comes out here, and when it does, it doesn't do much. Now don't get me wrong; I don't actually go to the beach that often-I just like to go outside and think to myself, "This sure would be a nice day to go to the beach." On those days when I can say that, I can just walk to an outdoor cafe and sit with the warm sun on my back. Those are my kind of days. Rufus likes them, too. We are both CA natives, and whereas we, or at least I, worship the creator, we both enjoy His creation immensely.

Friends as Mirrors

The other night, I was sitting at an outdoor cafe with some friends, and one of my friends had her feet up resting on the firepit while she balanced on the back two legs of the chair. I told her how scared it made me feel to see her balancing like that. It scared me because I would be scared and uncomfortable in that precarious balancing act. She pointed out, very wisely, that I project my own balance issues on to others. What I had thought of as a maternal instinct, "Put your feet back on those pedals! They're there for a reason!", or the instincts of a teacher, (my grandma was a teacher, my mom was a teacher, and I have been a teacher at various times in my life), "Stop squirming and sit on your bottom!", was really the result of putting myself in others' shoes and feeling scared for them when they didn't see the obvious (to me) danger, stupidity, and foolishness of their actions. I have been driven to distraction-almost to tears-at the sight of a friend standing on a cliff to get a picture. (You know who you are.)

Making Mom Laugh

I just watched the 1966 film, "The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming!" I love it because my mom loved it, and it made her laugh. I can practically hear her laughing when I watch it. As much as I love music (especially from the 80s), I don't know that I have ever heard anything so beautiful as my mom's laugh. Now that she's gone, I take great comfort in the fact that I made her life-both with me and at me-many times. One particular time was when I was in kindergarten and I was telling my mom what my teacher looked like. I said she looked like she was wearing three inflated innertubes around her middle. In a manner befitting the vocabulary of a kindergartener, I said that my teacher looked like she had one innertube for her chest, and two innertubes below that to hold her superfluous girth. I'm glad to have made my mom laugh. I'm glad she gave me her sense of humor.

Little Old Mrs. M

After a hearty discussion with a group of friends at a coffee shop, we all headed across town to an outdoor mall where we continued eating and then went shopping for dessert. My dessert came in the form of a stationery store, selling all their wares for 30% off. I spent the equivalent of a full tank of gas. I will continue my seemingly futile attempts at the lost art of the hand written note. Friends who take the time to put pen to paper for me are few and far between, but they hold a special place in my heart . . . and in my home. I save all my personal mail, so if I ever do anything spectacular enough to have a book written about me, my friends' letters will be included, so they will be forever acknowledged as having a key role in my success (or my failure, but if I'm going to dream, it might as well be a good dream!)

Christian Cannibalism

I go to a large and well-known church. Many people who've gone there, or even just heard of the church, think they know all about all of the members. People think we're all exactly the same, with the same ideas, opinions and beliefs. This is not true. Christians expect to have enemies on the outside, but the real threat to Christianity comes from the inside. We are not allowing Christians to differ in any way. There is plenty of room for differences amongst God's people. I am in no way endorsing ecumenism; I believe Jesus Christ is the only way to know God and to be saved from our sin, and I believe the Scriptures are the primary way to know Christ and grow in faith. It seems to me that we the Church would do well to heed the advice of Paul to the Galatian church, and stop "biting and devouring one another." We are destroying ourselves from the inside. Galatians 5:15.

Writing

I just watched the most recent episode of Parenthood, the one where Sarah (Lauren Graham) writes a story and lets a friend read it. It almost made me cry, remembering the exhilaration and excitement I feel whenever I write something. For me, there is nothing like writing. I can talk openly and honestly with someone until I'm blue in the face, but still, spoken words will never make me feel as vulnerable as written words. It has always been like this for me. I remember in college going to dinner with some older girls I admired like crazy, and they were so kind to me, but it wasn't until one of the girls turned over her paper place mat and wrote me a note-right there at the table-that I felt entirely at ease. So why would I want to make my most vulnerable and soul-baring thoughts public? I have no idea. Maybe Lauren Graham is reading. I doubt it, but who knows? Maybe I just want to inspire my friends to think and to write. Maybe it is the eternal desire of every living human to be known. All I know is that I love to write.

Friendship

I've been immersing myself in books about friendship, and thinking long and hard about the friendships I value most, and I've concluded that nothing compares with time. Those friends who knew me before I was married, and the friends who I met shortly after marrying, when I was first establishing myself as Mrs.M, the wife of Mr. M, those are the dearest friends to me. That is not to say that I haven't made cherished and wonderful friends more recently, but my tried and true, seen me at my worst, friends will always be in my heart.