Tag Archives: Blog

Individual Individuality

14 Tuesday Jul 2020

Posted by in Personal Essays, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

They Look Like Many, Yet They Are One

I love words.

This is a good thing because, as both an avid reader and a writer, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about words, studying them, breaking them down, and finding that perfect word that says exactly what I want to say.

Finding that perfect word isn’t always easy because the meanings of words change. Language is as fluid as a river and meanings can change over time or be forgotten and a word is now used to mean one thing when it was, at one time, used to mean the opposite.

Take the word “individual”. I have always believed this word to mean and have used it in my writing to mean: single, separate, distinguishable from others, unique. This is how the word is used almost exclusively today. And, the definition is not wrong: my Webster’s New World Dictionary does offer up “existing as a single, separate thing or being” as the second definition of Individual. And yet, I was reading a teaching by J. Preston Eby where he wrote that Individual meant “not divisible”. I had to look that up and, sure enough, the first definition of Individual is indeed “not divisible; not separable”.

Which is the correct usage? Does the fact that the second definition is used the majority of the time render void the first?

Everything in me revolts against sameness. What do I mean by this? The best fictional example I can think of is in “A Wrinkle in Time” by Madeleine L’Engle where she shows her readers the planet of Camazotz (which, if you’re interested, is the name of a bat god from Mayan mythology) The people of Ms. L’engle’s Camazotz are ruled by a single mind and are forced to be exactly alike, down the the perfect bouncing of balls during play time. Anyone deviating from what IT has decided is the norm is harshly re-educated. On this world, the first definition of Individual is paramount in every negative sense of the word.

I see this pressure towards sameness in the real world. Why? I get that there is safety in numbers but, historically, it’s the odd man or woman out who makes the discovery, solves the equation, writes the novel, and composes the masterpiece. The Individual is important. While I do not claim brilliance for myself, I am aware that I am unique. There is no one like me. There has never been anyone like me. There will never be anyone like me. I am an Individual and I hold as precious my sense of being a unique being. This being so, do I then believe the second definition is more important than the first?

No. I believe both definitions are equally important because, while I fiercely guard my own individuality, I am aware that every other human being on the face of this earth is also an Individual: as unique as I am. I think J. Preston Eby says it best:

“We speak of ourselves as individuals. Someone says, “I am an individual.” By that he means that he is separate from everyone else. We think, “I’m not like other people. I’m me. I’m something different. I’m special. I’m unique. I’m an individual.” The English word “individual,” however, comes from the Latin word individuus meaning indivisible or not divisible. It’s not that which is separate — it’s that which cannot be separated! It means that if I am an individual I am not separate from the rest of humanity. I am simply a unique expression of everything humanity is! It’s not separation from; it’s identification with!”

Identification with. Not separate from. An Individual yet part of an Individuum. How are these two seemingly opposite definitions reconciled in me? How do I live with my certainty of my own value without feeling threatened by the equal value of my fellow beings?

One of my favorite scriptures is Isaiah 30:15 specifically, “in quiet and confidence shall be your strength.” I have meditated on these words and, while there are many nuances of meaning, I am convinced that these two attributes are essential to my living in peace with myself and with everyone else. When I know that I am an Individual-in the words of J. Preston Eby “a unique expression of the word, of the spirit, of the mind, of the substance, of the totality of the being of our heavenly Father”-I find quietness and confidence. There is no turmoil in my spirit because I know how my heavenly Father sees me and I don’t have to compete with anyone nor assert my individuality. Seeing myself as He sees me gives me a confidence that can’t be shaken by anyone or anything so I don’t have to regard my fellow humans with suspicion.

I guess that, ultimately, the word I’m looking for isn’t Individual after all. It’s Identity.

Strange gods

03 Friday Jul 2020

Posted by in Poetry, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

This poem is inspired by Deuteronomy 32:12-13; a small segment of the Song of Moses which is another beautiful example of song/poems in the bible.

Strange gods

The trumped sounded with the dawn and I set myself to roam
I searched for a meeting place-somewhere I could call home
I wandered far, both day and night, until I saw a golden dome.
Its beacon shone in light and dark and attracted a vast throng
I joined myself to them and learned to sing their lovely song
Yet came the day I found I was getting the words wrong.
"Why this song?" I finally asked; "What's all this repetition for?
His voice is singing myriad-shouldn't we all want something more?"
But they called me a blasphemer and they showed me to the door.

I walked along until I found a group of people singing in the street
They greeted me, welcomed me, took me with them so I could eat
Once in their home they sat me down and soothed my aching feet.
I set about becoming one with their song and with their creed
They said I was not really like them-not in word and not in deed
They would teach me to become so but to stay I'd have to bleed.
"I like it here.  I like your song.  I want to stay with you.
But, you have the best in Jesus: what more can my blood do?"
They said I'd seen no light at all and I had to search for someplace new.

I stumbled on until I found someone I thought I knew
She asked me to go with her-promised to show me what was true
We sat down at a table spread before a wondrous view.
The vista was incredible-the mountains had never looked so near
There was not a cloud overhead-the air was cool and clear
"There is no work for us," she said, "but to eat while we wait here."
There was food the like I'd never seen and I was told to choose a treat
But there was nothing savory-no salt among the sweet
She told me to go elsewhere if I wished plain bread and meat.

I wandered into new lands but found no open door
Finally, I collapsed with body, heart, and soul to sore
to rouse myself again-I could not take one step more.
In the darkness He was with me though I'd thought I was alone
He ministered Himself to me-restored me blood and bone
Then He bade me tell Him everything-all I'd seen and how I'd grown.
With faltering lips I shared with Him my lengthy tale of woe
I told Him how I'd sought Him and had found Him even though
His face, at first familiar had become one strange I did not know.

"The fault is mine," I said in close, "I must possess a fatal quirk
There was no song I would not sing-no task I thought to shirk
So something must be wrong with me because I could not make this work."
"Fear not, Dear Child, I've brought you here so finally you can see
My call was not to bondage-My call is to set you free
I've called you not unto a place but for you to walk with Me."
"How can I know for sure?" I asked, "On what do I depend
for certainty I've heard aright-that You will call me 'Friend'?"
"Fear not," He said a second time; "I'm with you to the end."

"One more thing," I hesitated: "When will this race be won?
I want to understand everything but they say it can't be done."
"Fear not," He said a third time, "for you and I are One.
I stand Faithful.  I stand True.  I alone will lead
I will also walk beside you-I will meet your every need
I will slake your thirst with living water-on rock honey you will feed."
I put my hand in His and He lifted me up from the ground
and onto difficult and winding paths with His voice the only sound
I hear as we walk along and no more strange gods have I found.

Juxtaposition

09 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Poetry, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Despair

The Waters rage

I am cast adrift

With no buoy to tell me where I might be

Nothing beneath me to anchor me

I see nothing but the tempest

I wait for the eye of the storm

But there is no peace, no calm

I call out but no one hears my voice

This battle is lost-I will sink

For my strength already fails

And no hand is extended toward me

Hope

He is a Man of Suffering

He is Acquainted with Sorrows

He has felt all my pain

All my despair

All my anguish

Before I felt it myself

For I have been His

From the Foundation of the World

He strengthens me

I withstand the storms

For He has pledged Himself to me

And I am never alone

Walking in the Way

25 Monday May 2020

Posted by in Poetry, Walking in the Way, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Crossroads

I stood once at a crossroads with two paths laid before me

There were no signs to mark them or guides that I could see

To help me choose which path to walk and show me which way I should go

But I heard two voices call to me; one was Loud and one was Low.

The Loud voice called me one way and said great things to me

Promising to make me everything I thought I could be.

The Low voice said nothing more but to call me by my name

And I knew that if I chose that path I’d never be the same.

But what I would be I didn’t know and no promises were made

And as I stepped onto the first path I heard the Low voice fade.

The path I chose seemed bright and easy, the going never hard

And yet I often stumbled; I was bruised and sometimes scarred.

I did not turn back from the path that foolishly I’d chosen:

I threw my life away and my body was left broken.

I lay there on the path sobbing ‘midst my pain and shame

And then, oh so softly; I heard a Low voice call my name.

With gentle hands He lifted me and held me safe and sound

Next to His heart He healed me and I was no longer bound

To the Death that I had lived in for now Grace had been imparted

And though I knew He loved me; He set me down where I had started.

I stood at that same crossroads with two paths laid before me

There were no signs to mark them or guides that I could see

To help me choose which path to walk and show me which way I should go

But I heard two voices call to me; one was Loud and one was Low.

I now longed for the Low voice and determined not to fail

I stepped forward onto the path confident I would prevail.

But the Trickster lay in wait for me and seduced me with his lies

And while I thought I was obeying Him; it was the Evil One in guise.

I fell once more to my knees with shame and broken heart

Sure He would not take me back: we could not be more far apart.

That nothing between the two of us would ever be the same

But as my tears slipped down my cheeks; I heard Him call my name.

Once more with utmost gentleness He held me in His hands

Rescued me from whence I’d come and from my enemy’s plans.

He strengthened me, restored me, and though around me His love flowed

I found myself at a familiar place; having again to choose a road.

I stand once more at a crossroads with two paths laid before me

There are no signs to mark them and no guides that I can see

But I know the voices on them that call for me to follow

And I will not be led astray again; for those promises are hollow.

I will strive to hear that gentle voice that will never force nor trick me

But simply calls me further on to glories I can’t yet see.

I trust Him to keep my feet firm and stable as I walk

That He’ll be my provider; my protection and my rock.

I know that I will stumble and at times completely fail

But I trust Him to hold and keep me as I push along this trail.

But I proceed with caution for I never want to hear

Any voice but His; though others sometimes sound sincere.

I have walked the path that leads to destruction and despair

I want not to set foot on it again and so my deepest prayer

Is that He would give me Wisdom on how to hear His voice

To listen clearly and to always make the wisest choice.

I want to continue forward and never be sent back

To that starting place I find myself when I’ve fallen off the track

I want the choice I’ve made to keep me still when I might roam

With my heart and mind fixed on Him as His Love guides me home.

 

Gaining Strength As I Go

01 Friday May 2020

Posted by in Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

After a two year hiatus, I am back to blogging!  Before I made Renaissance Woman public again I went through all of my old posts updating, checking links, deleting (a lot of deleting) and I found it apropos that my final blog post in April of 2018 was about making forward progress even if it’s at a turtle’s pace.  Two years later and the theme of that post is still valid.

The last two years have been fraught with difficulty.  My biggest obstacle occurred at the end of 2018: a major surgery I spent what felt like all of 2019 recovering from.  My neighbor described his wife’s last surgery to me and said it is a fight to come back from such a thing.  I agree: it felt like a battle and it became obvious early on it wasn’t one I was going to win in a day.  My first post-surgery walk went no further than the mailbox on the corner of my block which is an embarrassingly short distance.  I’d love to say I made more progress the next day but I didn’t.  My recovery was one of two steps forward, three steps back, and then at last four steps forward.

It took months but I finally walked a full mile.  I even took a trip to the mountains with a friend in July of 2019.  I admit I was grateful for late snow storms that kept hiking to a minimum as I had overestimated my ability.  Still, I’m never one to turn down a chance to be in God’s Creation and I didn’t collapse during our hike at Fish Creek Falls. I call that victory!

Falls Two

I had to learn to be gentle with myself.  I am still learning to be gentle with myself because I have found that six weeks might be enough for incisions to heal but the rest of me is on my own clock.  I can do nothing to alter the speed of this passage of time.  All I can do is surrender and take one day at a time one step at a time.  I still wear the turtle pendant I mentioned in the last post and it has been a tangible reminder to me that any forward movement, even if it is just one step, is better than stagnation.

Stagnation is a terrible thing.  When I think of stagnation in a physical sense, I think of my lymphatic system.  This amazing system running through my body is so important for my health and yet it has no ability to move itself.  What do I mean?  The lymph has no heart to aid it as it moves upward through my body to my subclavian veins and thus relies on the motions of the muscles and joint pumps.  I must move or my lymphatic system is unable to do its job and my immune system suffers.  This pumping of my lymphatic system doesn’t require insanely difficult exercises. (I always think of Tae Bo.  Is that still something exercise lovers do?)  All I have to do is move a little bit throughout my day.

I found this quote:

“Life is never stagnation. It is constant movement, un-rhythmic movement, as we as constant change. Things live by moving and gain strength as they go.” ~ Bruce Lee

I think that’s beautiful.  “Things live by moving and gain strength as they go”.  There isn’t an aspect of my life I can’t apply that to: especially writing.  Writer’s speak of the flow of words and so I write to keep that flow constant.  I will write here on this blog, in my journal, in my notebooks, in my manuscript (manuscripts now-I had to put my series aside to conduct research on a few things and I’ve been working on a stand alone book since April of last year).  I write, I walk, I move to keep stagnation at bay.  I seek merely to gain strength as I go.

River