sad...

sad is an awfully short word for an interminably long emotion.
horatio spafford phrased it effectively, 'when sorrows like sea billows roll...'
sometimes they're as turbulent as stormy waves, and other times as subdued as bare ripples lapping on the shore.
but as constant as the ocean, with varying depths, and unyielding unpredictability.

sad is an incredibly simple word for an unfathomably complex emotion.
the psalmist concurred, 'be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief...'
it's emotion oozing out physiologically. shortness of breath, vision delay, restless sleep, depleted energy, overwhelming fatigue, irritability, sore muscles, sore gums, bruises, blisters, fevers, aches, just to name the few that can be named...

freudian? or too much late nite lamyun?

had a disturbing dream last nite, a dark, spiritual-feeling sort of dream.
it was a mishmash of vignettes.
at first, i think i was watching someone's baby, and then that baby got kidnapped.
so i followed the kidnappers to a building that resembled an old mansion of sorts, something like a college campus building. i went inside and an indian-looking man gave me specific, but long directions on where to go to find the baby. i found myself descending a spiral staircase. i was nearing the bottom when i heard voices speaking in plain english, which was a surprise to me, which leads me to believe that i was in a foreign country.

it turns out that it was a forum of sorts, a conspiracy forum. there were men of high caliber, all well-known theologians, scholars, politicians, etc. and they were conspiring on how to mislead the world in the doctrines of the Bible.

my heart just about stopped as i stood there leaning against the stairwall, just before the last bend to the conference room (which felt more like a dungeon after descending so far). i turned and ascended the stairs, only to be caught by some sneering man who started interrogating me. i started to stammer and say that i had followed a man here who knew where my baby was (all of a sudden, it was MY baby!) when that indian-looking man emerged from some secret closet in the room behind the sneering man and started to shake his head slightly, signaling me not to give away his identity, while at the same time pointing with his chin for me to turn around and look, to find that there she was, my baby on the bed, behind me!

i grabbed her and then all of a sudden i was outside the building, but it was another sequence of the dream. the baby was gone. but it was still a continuation. this one, i don't remember, except that my administrator from school was there, trying to give me a clue...

then another sequence began, where i was eating figs and my former senior pastor's wife, hannah smn wanted some. so i gave her my last one and walked underneath a fig tree and was trying to grab some figs but they were too high. then she said she had to go and went to get in her minivan, which was burgundy in the dream, but not in real life. i got in the minivan with her and (i'm getting goosebums as i'm writing this, and i don't know why...) i think someone was chasing us. or we them. don't know.

i think the dream ended with me taking a shower and using a bristle brush to ddae-mil-uh (scrub the dirt off my skin). that's been a series lately. trying to get clean.

hmm.

ebb and flow...

without which we wouldn't have
seashells to collect
tidepools to explore
grunions laying eggs
moist sand for building castles

flow brings in the treasures
ebb leaves them behind
some i keep and cherish
some i toss back
some just stay forgotten in the sand

it's not a lesson in nature i've been learning, but one of relationships.
as i look back on the relationships i've had in my lifetime, i see a pattern of ebb and flow, much like the tides of the ocean. different seasons bring different tides and different tides bring different marks on the shore of life.

i've had seasons of green moss and life and what felt like high tide. fun and bonding and sweetness and knowing. i've also had seasons of dried kelp and hot sand and what felt like very low tide. brokenness and heartache and waiting and longing.

i've just begun to realize that without the low tides, i wouldn't discover the treasures that the high tides brought in. lessons on loving and giving and knowing and asking. collecting and cherishing memories. exploring that which was and still remains hidden in the pool of my heart. spawning life from the last high tide and letting it go with the next one. making and building anew, knowing full well the risks of what the tides will take as well as give.

and then there are things that are better left in the sand. dead things. dangerous things. dang ugly things. better to step around, over and away. let the next high tide wash it away. and if it doesn't take it away, pick it up and throw it away. bitter things. hurtful things. smelly, stinging, sour things. i'm starting to sound like dr. seuss...no wonder, it's nearing midnite.

at present, i think the monterey coast resonates with me.
with its rocky terrain resulting in turbulent waves with hidden alcoves of peace and quiet.
timely mists that change and even cloud the view of the ocean, but which also bring relief to the heated hillsides.
yes, monterey resonates with me.