Reason Breeds Insanity

Again, my grandma fell and broke her hip, but it was the other hip this time, and the fracture wasn’t as bad. She had surgery yesterday and it went well. I was even able to make it to my class on time.

Right now I am trying to figure out how to write a quiz for my students that isn’t too hard, but that they can’t pass unless they read book. I hate grading quizzes, but I know some of my students weren’t reading and some of them hadn’t even bought the book. I figure this is the best way to make sure they have the materials they need for the rest of the course.

On Saturday at 11, I am going to start learning how to meditate. For the cost of 3-6 fresh flowers, $35, and four hours of my time, I am going to learn a technique involving East Indian music. I am hoping that meditation will work for me, because I think sometimes that meditation can allow us to enter into a new prayer life that we previously couldn’t access. At the very least, it produces clarity of thought. Meditation sort of reminds me of the early Jesus prayer that is said repetitively along the knots of a prayer rope: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. The point is that you say it until it becomes a part of your thought life, so that you are thinking it almost as surely as if you are breathing. My point in all of this, is that I am hoping that I can meditate in order to calm my thoughts and my biorhythms to the point where I can actually concentrate on one thing for longer than 30 seconds.

At any rate, I need to make that quiz, so I can go see my grandma before class.

Much like Becky, when her mom tells her to email, she does, when my mom sends me email asking if I am still alive, I figure I should post something to make sure everyone knows that I am. A bit of healthy mother guilting never hurt anyone. It could actually be the impetus for much of what gets done in the world.

Yesterday we got all of our technical issues worked out with blackboard and the blog, and wonder of wonders, I look at the class blogs today and they have been locked because Blogger thinks they are SPAM blogs. I am guessing they are concerned because we all posted at the same time, so I hope they turn it back on by Friday, so my students can make their posts.

On another subject, I got to work with small children at church on Sunday. They made a card for an older couple that are moving to Tennessee. Each kid had to put one hand in a huge ink pad and then stamp it onto the card. The red ink was a mess. It was like it just kept growing. One of the kids thought that was hysterical, and he ended up using six or seven wipes to get it off of his hand. The more he wiped it off, the more it smeared around and eventually got on his arm, and I think some got on his face as well. It was fun, and incredibly funny. I love the little kids!

So I am off now to work at the mission and when I get home, I have to read my stuff for Renaissance class tonight. I feel like I am barely a step ahead this semester, but I think that will be okay.

It turns out that my students didn’t understand how to read the schedule I had posted online. They were confused about whether I was going to assign that reading that day or if it was due that day. I’ll give them that. Starting a semester is confusing. Me getting used to them, them getting used to me. Me getting used to teaching again, them getting used to learning again. It is a dance and one that will hopefully go more smoothly from here on out. I just have to keep remind myself that I am leading, so I set the tone. They are watching me, and I need to give grace. I also need to give instruction. I think it will be just fine.

So the first thing I assigned my students to read was called Shitty First Drafts. Sounds fun, edgy, and is very easy to read. About half of them bothered. Today they had a huge reading assignment, and by huge I mean twenty pages, so we;ll see if they read it. I may do my first pop quiz! Anyway, I hope that they look at the syllabus and realize that I am packing a bunch in at the beginning so that the end will be easier. They finish their research paper and for the last two weeks they will work on a comic, manifesto, or political poster. How much easier can it be? I guess what I am saying is that I tried to design a course that I would have wanted to take as an undergraduate. Maybe I am strange. We’ll see how their photo essays turn out. I have faith that they will turn out well. I can tell these kids are really talented. Maybe reading just isn’t their thing? I did make a powerpoint to go through everything, so maybe the pop quiz will wait until later.

Think happy thoughts for my mom.

I had a strange moment yesterday when Bec brought in the mail. There was a manila envelope in the pile that had my name hand written on the outside. When I opened it all that fell out was CD. For a moment, I was in a bit of a panic. My fear, the great clog that had closed off my throat was caused by the fear that an ex had found me. This is no ordinary ex. You see, my mind raced not to my high school sweetheart who used to mix tapes for me—I still owe my love of The Doors to him—but to another ex who was a convicted felon. The charge? Stabbing someone with a butter knife. Yes, in some sort of jealous rage, the butter knife was thrust deeply enough into the former girlfriend’s chest to cause hospitalization. I know how to pick them! Anyway, I thought the CD was a little warning of sorts—I was told by my psycho-ex that I would one day wake up to find myself in a coal mine shaft in West Virginia.

Luckily, when I searched further in the envelope, I discovered that the CD was, in fact, from my pastor. He had been praying for me the previous day when a song came into his head, so he felt compelled to make me a CD. Here are the words:

Someone is tossing petals in a stream
Somewhere someone is standing at the foothills of their dreams
Someone got a paintbrush, is painting over doubts
Someone opened up his eyes and saw the sun coming out
Someone was captive and found the courage to get off
From a boulder in the well, somewhere the rain has stopped
Someone is finding the place where they belong

Everyday is summer somewhere in the world
And the summer boys are headed for the falls to kiss the girls
With their impatient hands groping honey breasts and curls
They are filled with desire
And high in the hills there’s a baby being born
As forgiveness and peace wash over bruises and sores
People bridging the distance over nettles and thorns

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don’t dance, heaven won’t shine
It’s a mighty thick haze and it’s a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won’t flow
If the love isn’t bright enough the corn won’t grow
If the night isn’t dark enough the moon won’t glow

A rich man counting money, a tired man counting sheep
While the safe man counts his blessings, the hungry man has beans
There’s a million people praying, raising up their eyes
To what turns out to be the same god, the same sky
We are slightly scared of death, a little bit afraid
So we celebrate everything we can think to celebrate
We shall sing out loud to keep the hounds away

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don’t dance, heaven won’t shine
It’s a mighty thick haze and it’s a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won’t flow
If the love isn’t bright enough the corn won’t grow
If the night isn’t dark enough the moon won’t glow

Prisons will crumble and governments will fall
It’s the order of freedom to be preceded by walls
Cause the truth would be worthless if no one ever lied
So we carry our shame in the interest of pride
And we have all these questions to make us go roam
And we’ve got all this distance to make us come home
As the sun burns, a child learns, the tide churns, the world turns

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don’t dance, heaven won’t shine
It’s a mighty thick haze and it’s a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won’t flow
If the love isn’t bright enough the corn won’t grow
If the night isn’t dark enough the moon won’t glow

How beautiful is it to think of our love as a faucet? If the faucet is turned too tight, the love doesn’t flow. The love isn’t bright enough, so the corn won’t grow? Beautiful. Simply.

No need, apparently, to be afraid of the psychotic-convicted-felon-butterknife-stabbing-ex!

I love my pastor, and I suppose he has redeemed himself from telling me Sunday that he knows I have a heart now because I was holding a baby. Yes, Dave, I have a heart, and for some reason, God keeps letting you touch it again and again! Jerk.