Reflections

Chronos vs. Kairos

/ still a dreamer

How interesting that chronos and kairos should appear in my reading materials in so close a time frame. Not long ago, I read Madeleine L’Engle writing about it. Then on October 12th, in one of my favorite books, Simple Abundance – A Daybook of Comfort and Joy, Sarah Ban Breathnach addressed it. And as always, these “chance” messages were of particular relevance to my life at the moment, and my feelings of far too much to do in too little time all too often. Might you find yourself in here, too?

Ms. Ban Breathnach defines chronos as how we try and control time – clocks, calendars, datebooks, agendas, beepers, etc. Chronos is time at its worst and a delusion of grandeur – it is the world’s time.

Kairos, on the other hand, is time at its best. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, joy, passion, the sacred. Kairos let’s go and allows us to escape our own confines. It is spirit’s time.

We, who never seem to have enough time, are at the mercy of chronos … or allow ourselves to be. But we need kairos so desperately. We do already know it – it’s any time when we have been so wondrously involved in what we are doing at the moment that we lose track of worldly time and just are. And there we find joy, rapture, oneness with our own spirit.

But how to be in more kairos? Ms. Ban Breathnach recommends the following:

“* By slowing down
* By concentrating on one thing at a time
* By going about what we are doing as if it were the only thing worth doing at that moment
* By pretending we have all the time in the world, so that our subconscious will kick in and make it so
* By making time
* By taking time.”

She says, “It only takes a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres.

“Today be willing to join in the dance.

“Now you’re in kairos.”

Where Is the Joy?

/ still a dreamer

If you are a woman and you are reading this, then there’s a good chance that you are struggling to find the joy in life. Today’s pace, especially for women, is more frenetic than ever.  Many of us are working, maintaining a home for ourselves and others, raising children, and running like crazy. We are often overwhelmed and exhausted. Despite all this, we may still be reasonably happy, or … we may be downright miserable.

I do believe our natural soul state is one of love and joy. And that it easily gets lost in the pace of everyday life. As I am reading Marianne Williamson’s book, A Woman’s Worth, I find myself dwelling on this section where she writes about joy. She writes that joy is what happens when we recognize how good things are, how beautiful and amazingly powerful we are as women. And she adds that we can create joy in our daily life; we can decide to be happy. It may take our attention and some effort to focus on this, but it is possible.

I know, and perhaps you have, too, the feeling of real joy. For me, it is a distinct feeling that all is right in the world; all is well and perfect at that moment. The fact is that we can experience this feeling so much more often by focusing on the good, and on the amazing beings we, as women, are. I want more joy; how about you? Reading A Woman’s Worth is just fueling that desire for joy right now. This might be a book you’d be interested in if you’d like to discover more of your own joy and your own worth in the world.

Without ever getting into a women’s rights kind of attitude, but always staying in the positive and the uplifting, Williamson writes about how women have lost their place and been kept down throughout much of history, and conversely, of all we are and can be.

The passage that I love in this section is as follows. “A joyful woman, merely by being, says it all. The world is terrified of joyful women. Make a stand. Be one anyway.”

Bliss Boulevard

/ still a dreamer

As I was returning from an early morning errand today, I passed a street sign that I had never noticed before … Bliss Blvd.  I looked at it with a kind of longing. That’s where I want to live. Wouldn’t you?

It’s a small side street and easy to miss as it comes up immediately after one turns left onto a well-travelled route, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant, that after all these years of passing it, I just noticed it today. I do always take these kinds of things as signs, and not the literal ones. So why did I just see this today?

From numerous nights of poor and/or interrupted sleep, I’m on edge. Things of minor importance become of disproportionate significance; routine but unexpected noises make me jump. And things that may normally cause me some worry cast an even greater shadow. I know sleep will help. But what I also know I need to do in these times is to just let go.

Letting go of worries often means letting go of the illusion of control. The only thing we truly have control over is our own thoughts. The rest – people,  animals, events – on both personal and global scales – is nothing we can control. Sometimes we can only stand by and watch things unfold. Sometimes we can influence things in a positive, (or negative), way. However, others are on their own path, and we don’t ever really know,  though we may glimpse it, what that path is for them – the joy, the pain, the confusion, the triumphs – but it is their path.  Ideally, we can bring to others the best of ourselves and then let the rest go.

So, I thought today, in this sleep-fractured state, that I would pack up a little black bag of worries, control, fear and all that negative crap, and surrender it on my way to a more blissful destination. I’m sure there’s a better night’s sleep to be had there and an easier time of it. And I have children’s books to write and illustrate. I’m headed for Bliss Blvd. Isn’t that where you’d like to be, too?

In Thanks to Those Who’ve Served

/ still a dreamer

Thanks to the brave men and women who have served this country in defense of our freedom, and those who continue to do so. We honor and remember you this Memorial Day.

Thanks also to the war dogs who have served this country since WWI, saving countless lives of our soldiers abroad, and still do today.

Reservation Blues – Sherman Alexie

/ still a dreamer

There’s plenty written about Reservation Blues, including that written by Alexie himself, so I’m not going to write any summaries or anything like that other than what appealed to me, personally. And that’s a lot. First, I realized I’m going to have to buy the book to have my own copy, as what I read belongs to my local library. That’s so I can go back in and visit from time to time.

I am moved by Alexie’s writing style – in some ways, almost a stream of consciousness, but we all know one doesn’t get published by going with only that. It’s HOW he writes that I’m drawn to – the fluidity, the interjections of things that may seem unrelated or perhaps we just never connected before. Like Big Mom and her relationship to the slaughtered horses … how they brought their songs back to her in the forms of others – Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Marvin Gaye, (the latter two whom I was very fortunate to have seen in concert), and then they returned to earth. Is it so surprising that Robert Johnson, who bartered away his freedom, should come to Big Mom? Or that Thomas Builds-the-Fire should let Johnson’s guitar pass through his hands and Victor to become ensnared by it?

I read Reservation Blues and wished I knew Big Mom. Everyone needs Big Mom – loving, giving, spiritual, a healer, and yet objective, claiming to no particular situational outcome for anyone. I wish I couldn’t hear the horses scream … a too-piercing song. But Big Mom’s there to mourn for them and to keep their songs alive. And I am thankful. Woven into the story, the violent massacre tells part of the tribe’s history.

I am drawn in by Alexie’s subtleties,  such as the harmonica that Big Mom made for Robert Johnson and tossed to him. “He could feel a movement inside the wood, something familiar.” Was it his music, or was even Big Mom not powerful enough to out The Gentleman? Is it why Johnson decided to stay in Wellpinit? It was only one line that may have gone unnoticed but Reservation Blues seems packed with such subtleties, such fluid turns of the wrist. It’s a style I like, kind of filled with asides that maybe you get, maybe you don’t.

Reservation Blues follows a core group of characters that have strengths and weaknesses, their acceptance of life and their desires to escape or rail against it. Some of them survive the adversities, some don’t. And those who do, some better, some not so well. And if it’s hard to like Victor? a note from Junior to Big Mom tells us why he’s not as bad as he seems. But Victor’s weak and Johnson’s guitar has him in thrall. Again, maybe smaller points in the novel … maybe ones that encompass the whole story in one vignette.

And there’s magic – things that couldn’t be real, such as Junior’s appearance to Victor in the car, the guitar talking, the strings catching fire – or could they? Woven into the story, they become so believable they cannot be extricated. For me anyway. I surrender and I believe. And I follow the band Coyote Springs and its evolution, how it helps me get to know who’s in it, who they meet, where real hell is, where it’s not.

Does Reservation Blues depict life on the reservation today? I have no doubt. It doesn’t give the reader any kind of romantic view of the American Indian such as Alexie says seems common to some white people, New Agers, etc. The view is sometimes painful, sometimes simply life, sometimes just of people like the rest of us dealing with what every day brings. But it’s a different life than that of the rest of us – one with a different history, a different set of memories and tradition, and different challenges – not ours. And I like Alexie’s telling of it. He connects me. And I like how he does it.