Death of an Appliance - Reflections on Stress and Prayer

My week started and ended the same way - with the death of an appliance.

It started Monday morning. In the middle of drying my hair, with a half wet head, the motor on my hair dryer sped up, let out a high pitch whine and quit with the odorous aroma of burnt wiring.

It ended Friday evening. Wanting a second cup of tea, I flicked the switch on the electric kettle. Nothing happened. The very kettle that had just made a boiling cup of tea not more than half an hour previous could not even muster up a semi-boil. It had just enough energy to operate the "on" light and that was all.

Now the hair dryer's death I could understand. It had lived a long life and served its master well. But the kettle? It was barely a year old, it had hardly even begun to make tea! Sigh - so young to pass on.

My appliances are an odd parody of how I've been feeling lately. A little worn out, a little ready to give up. Sometimes my motor's running on a high whine and I think I catch a whiff of burnt wiring as I'm running out the door. At other times, I simply refuse to start up. The light's on, but I'm not boiling!

Good old stress has caught up to me. I become angry, resentful, and withdrawn. It was during this withdrawn, melancholy time, looking for words of comfort from scripture, that I was perusing The Book of Common Prayer, and came across this prayer for Eventide:

O Lord, support us all the day long of this troublous life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then, Lord, in thy mercy, grant us safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at the last; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

All the day long of this troublous life - that one phrase says it all. The writer of this prayer understood stress. And reminds me in whose peace I rest.

May the Lord grant you safe lodging, a holy rest and peace.

@2005 Eveline Maedel - All rights reserved * o

Death of an Appliance - Reflections on Stress and Prayer

Basho! Banana Tree

Thoughts on a Haiku Master

A banana plant in the autumn gale -
I listen to the dripping of rain
Into a basin at night.
~ Basho Matsuo (1644- 1694)

Basho sits outside his hut, gazing at his beloved banana plant. Rain falls, winds blow, seasons come and go, and still he gazes. Pouring boiling hot water onto fragrant tea leaves in a clay pot, he inhales the rising steam. The leaves of the banana plant rustle in the moonlight.

Basho, where are your drafts, outlines, rough sketches? Do you journal? How many hours a day do you write? Where are your morning pages, your marketing plans, your queries, your submissions?

A smile cracks his face, as Basho dips brush into ink and strokes the paper on his lap. In three short lines, it is finished.

In three short lines - the heart and soul of the poet. It is finished.

@2005 Eveline Maedel All rights reserved * o

Basho! Banana Tree

Phantom of the Opera

I have a cold. My son had knee surgery last week. Two seemingly unrelated events, yet they brought us together this afternoon. How? Since his surgery, my living-room has become recovery room central for my son. He eats, sleeps and watches TV on the pull out bed in the center of the room. We live around him.

A wicked head cold today helped me to decide to stay home and rest myself. Since I had a "captive" audience, I snuggled up on the other couch beside him and popped in my new DVD, "Phantom of the Opera". He couldn't very well run out of the room.

I have been in love with the Phantom story since first hearing the Andrew Lloyd Webber soundtrack years ago. It had always been a dream of mine to see the cast perform on stage at Pantages Theater in Toronto, but that dream never materialized. I was thrilled when I heard that a motion picture had been made and couldn't wait to get my hands on the DVD when it was released this month.

It did not disappoint. Emmy Rossum's voice sent goose-bumps up and down my arms. It was sheer joy to hear the all familiar tunes performed. And the visual effects in the movie are stunning.

For over two hours, the two of us were spellbound and glued to the TV. And what did my captive teenage son think at the end? He gave the film a resounding thumbs up.

Several years ago I read Susan Kay's novel, "Phantom". If you are haunted by the Phantom as I am, you have got to get your hands on a copy of this novel. Kay takes Gaston Leroux's original "Phantom of the Opera" and builds on it, digging deep into what created the Phantom, making him more than just the opera ghost, but an incredible three-dimensional character. Man or monster? I'll leave that to you decide, after you've read her story.

Just be sure to read it late at night, with the lights low. What's that chilling draft you feel on your neck? Is that music you hear?

"Beneath the opera house....I know he's there........." * o

Phantom of the Opera

With Apologies to Bill Shakespeare

I sweep, perchance to Swiffer
and vacuum, perchance to mop
for in that sweeping what thoughts are cleansed
cobwebs blown from dusty corners
problems solved in swift motion
what peace in Saturday
to sweep, to clean no more

@2005 Eveline Maedel - may not be reproduced without permission * o

With Apologies to Bill Shakespeare

More Travels on the Web

I have a few gems to share this week from my journeys on the web.

Rhodi Alers de Lopez
Writer and singer, Rhodi Alers de Lopez has just released her first CD, "Me Faltan Palabras" (My words are insufficient). A country flavored gospel album, with words in Spanish, this is a beautiful and uplifting work of praise music. Listening to it this morning, I was reminded that no matter what language you sing in (Spanish/English) or what style (gospel/opera), music truly is the language of the soul. Rhodi is also a writer, and her blog, Inkspirations, is worth checking out.

Nana's Notecards
If you're searching for notecards and such, check out Vicki Hawkins website, "Nana's Notecards & Such" You can choose from Vicki's designs featured on the site, or have Vicki custom design notecards for you. I was more than pleased with the cards Vicki did up for me. She's a delight to work with, and VERY fast!

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Throne
Humor writer Georgia Richardson has just released her first novel, A Funny Thing Happened on The Way to the Throne. Available in 2 weeks, you can pre-order copies now on her website. Hurry, they are bound to sell fast - Da Queen has a lot of fans!

And thanks to Erica Miner, for linking to my blog on her website! * o

More Travels on the Web

Haunted

With "Opera Babes" in the CD player, I head out for my evening walk. My journey takes me to the old cemetary and I wander amongst the long forgotten graves tucked into the woods, haunted by the past. Who sleeps here? Who mourned their loss?

"O Fortuna" provides the perfect backdrop to my melancholy mood.

"Fate, monstrous
and empty
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being in vain
and always fades to nothing."

Soprano and mezzo soprano soar and whirl around me, like the leaves stirred by the wind.

The untended graves are starting to sink in the ground, leaving deep impressions and I morbidly imagine them rising to the surface. Shaking off the image, I head back out to the road.

Would that I could bury past resentments and hurts, but mine lay hidden in shallow graves, occasionally rising to the surface again. A half-buried conversation rises, "Why do we take back what we have given away?" Yes, why reclaim the past?

I long for an unoffended heart. For now, I give the resentment over to prayer. Every time it rises, I offer it up again.

Fate, malevolent you may be - but God is ever benevolent and loving. My fate rests in him.

I arrive at my back door, resentment left behind in long forgotten graves.

@2005 Eveline Maedel - may not be reproduced without permission * o

Haunted

Please Pass the Prozac

I'm not sure there's enough chamomile tea in the world to calm me now. This morning I became the mother of a sixteen year old son with a beginner driver's license. Look out world! * o

Please Pass the Prozac

Opera and Prayer

I'll be the first to admit I know little about opera, aside from Gilbert & Sullivan operettas, The Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, and the saying "it's not over 'til the fat lady sings." My friend Erica, has been patiently trying to instruct me in the finer joys of opera. It's obvious when you read Erica's writing that she is passionate about opera, so I appreciate her patience with this "non-aficionado".

Testing the waters, I asked Erica what she would recommend for a beginner listener and she suggested some operas by her favorite composer, Puccini. Timidly, I journeyed to HMV and purchased a CD of selected Puccini compositions. So begins my exploration of opera.

Not too long ago, Erica sent me a poem by Marge Piercy from her collection COLORS PASSING THROUGH US. The poem is entitled, "One reason I like opera". Piercy speaks disdainfully of the movie world, with its focus on the visually appealing. The heroine is always
beautiful. the "fat lady a joke". And the pretty people always win. In opera, on the other hand, the heroine is old and heavy, the hero "wolfs down an eight course meal daily". It is the voices that are beautiful, passionate, strong, lusty, deep and mournfully soul filling. Opera is the real world, movies the glitzy world.

This I get. I can listen to my Puccini CD, not understand a word of what is being sung, but the emotions resonate within me. There is no need for any language other than that of music. I close my eyes and follow the music's path. For all I know, they could be singing a grocery list. But oh, what passion it is sung with!

Can you imagine if we prayed with such a passion? David did in the Psalms. Consider Psalm 13:
"How long, Or Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death:" (Psalm 13:1-3, NIV)

David's prayers are opera. Mine are more like movies - pretty on the surface, but not too deep, too passionate. * o

Opera and Prayer

A Little Help for My Friend

My friend Rosanne has an ezine, The Cat's Meow for Writers and Readers.

She wrote me last night to let me know that she has received tons of submissions for her e-zine, but few that she can feature in the "Coffee House" section, so, if you're reading this and you are a budding poet or short story writer, check out Rosanne's website, read the submission guidelines and send your submissions in! You may be the next "Featured Poet".

I can tell you that Rosanne is one of the sweetest people out there, and loves to promote aspiring writers - and that's the "cat's meow"! * o

A Little Help for My Friend

Signs of Spring

Sunlight plays with
delicate purple shadows
and whispers of summer yet to be.
Drunk on languid winter days,
I dream of a luscious garden.

Spring fever is setting in. I'm restless, can't concentrate, and don't seem to accomplish much. (Wait a minute, I blamed cabin fever for that last month!). The top 5 signs that spring is here?

1. Hubby puts snowmachine in the garage.
2. The BBQ takes it's rightful place on the deck.
3. The patio furniture comes out of storage.
4. Kids are all over the place on their bikes, and
(drumroll........)
5. Dog poo sprouts on the lawn!

Now, if the geese would just start returning, spring would definitely be here! * o

Signs of Spring

Two of the Funniest Women on the Web

Stressful day? Need a good laugh? Then check out these two ladies, absolutely two of the funniest women writer's out there. I'm glad I don't have to give out humour awards (yes, that's "humour", I spell Canadian).


Georgia Richardson, or Queen Jaw Jaw to her court of fans, always finds a humorous twist to everyday life. Not only is her website beautiful, its funny! Be sure to sign up for her Monday morning dose of humour "All Things Royal" - great way to start the week.

Queen Jaw Jaw

Another "twisted sister", Sherri, the "Queen of her double wide trailer" generally has me rolling on the floor with laughter. I frequently check her blog for updates (but then, I don't have a life...)
Wiping The Crazy Off My Face: Cause I Said So

Enjoy! And keep laughing - it's good for you. * o

Two of the Funniest Women on the Web

Farewell, Karol

When I was a young teen I came across this poem written by Pope John Paul II in a magazine. It was written before he was a parish priest. I had this poem pinned up on my wall for many years, before tucking it away in one of my poetry books. To me it held the promise of youth, a future yet unknown, written by a man before he became spiritual leader to millions world wide.

Children

Growing unawares through love, of a sudden
they've grown up, and hand in hand
wander in crowds (their hearts caught like birds,
profiles pale in the dusk).
The pulse of mankind beats in their hearts.

On a bank by the river, holding hands-
a tree stump in moonlight, the earth a half-whisper-
the children's hearts rise over the water.
Will they be changed when they get up and go?

Or look at it this way: a goblet of light tilted
over a plant reveals unknown inwardness.
Will you spoil what has begun in you?
Will you always separate the right from the wrong?
- Karol Woytyla

Farewell, Karol - poet and pope. In peace, and in glory. * o

Farewell, Karol

Poetry and Patchouli

It was a beautiful day Saturday - warm and sunny. The promise of spring in the air. I'd sat all day indoors at a meeting and had just been dropped off at the mall for a quick "kill an hour shopping" moment. The first thing to beckon me as I entered the mall? The local library having a used book sale. Nothing better than browsing up and down the tables looking for an odd find, a good bargain, a well perused novel. Twenty minutes later I was paying for a $3.00 copy of
"Everyman's Book of English Verse". A heavy tome from 1981 that promises hours well spent with the masters - Milton, Shakespeare, Marlowe et al. Book in hand I wandered to the Body Shop in search of patchouli. And if patchouli could not be found, then something heady, spicy and exotic would have to do. Lotions, potions, soaps and creams - all had to be smelled. Too fruity? Pass that up. Too flowery? Nope, that won't do. A rather persistent young sales clerk followed my every move, commenting on everything I picked up, hoping to make a sale. Just when I thought she was beginning to border on annoying (or had she actually passed annoying about five minutes earlier?) I spotted the patchouli oil, and some "scent your own body lotion". Happy to give her a task to do, I asked her to infuse some lotion with the patchouli oil.

So it was an hour later I left the mall. Poetry and patchouli in hand. * o

Poetry and Patchouli