Up leveling

Dear blog,

I’m just sitting here. Did not sleep sound.

What to write…?

Does it feel as if everything and everyone feels muchy? Muchy as in, big of personality. Muchy as big in so many things. Where everyone’s volume, emotions, everything is dialed way up?

The past two days, have been a bit people-ey, and spicy at least for me.

My journalism teacher got married on Saturday, so Bess and I went to her reception. She married a man who lost his hand in the one of the earlier wars. Vietnam? The building was super crowded. So many people. Packed into a little room, everyone buzzing with conversations.

My nervous system was sending me alert messages the whole time.

So much noise. We stayed there longer than we had intended. Bess had some old high-school friends there, but we were both very happy to finally go.

Also, our neighbor who gives us wood, asked to sing his favorite song in Church. So we practiced a hymn, “How Gentle God’s commands,” with our other neighbor, (bee keeper lady) who plays the piano. She had a special arrangement, so we gave it a try first at our house. Then at the church.

Then Sunday morning we went to church, which I don’t do often. And if we do, Bess and I like to be Ferrel, free, and flexible as much as we can. Once everyone sees us, they usually ask us to come more, and do more things.

 One year we went to as many churches that we could in our area. I think we missed one, though. We named each one. Church of the hugs. Church of the Brownies. Church of the hymns. Loud church. Church of the stained glass. One we even took my mom to one church, and she gave her heart to Jesus, though it was the funniest moment, because the lady and man who were doing this revival thing, were so odd. Saying they could speak in tongues, and they seemed…a bit needing of an enema in my opinion. A bit too oaty for me. But I shant say more, for it would sound rude.

Things like that.

Anyhow, back to my point.

Singing in my home ward.

It felt very strange. Because there were people I had grown up with. Sunday school teachers, old teachers from teenage-hood. People I didn’t really know, and who didn’t really know me.

And now I’m singing in front of them.

Odd that.

After we were done singing.

A very dignified gentleman, whom has a very poetic way of speaking, with a deep voice. And I find him a good soul.

Got up to the pulpit, and said. “ I see you.”

I found his talk nice, because he talked a bit about seeing people as souls. And I liked that. It made me fee like God saw my sister and me, even if perhaps we all struggle at times to see everyone in the way that they deserve.

Either way. The past few days have been strange.

Apparently, the week before, my dad got up in church, during a time they do open mic, and he talked so long they asked him to sit down. When I heard this, I felt sad for my dad. Sorry for the congregation.

And sad for myself and my sister.

Oh boy…

My favorite bit about yesterday, was after church, and decompressing, because I felt very stressed.

Bess and I went on a walk in the field. The sky was beautiful. In the north, there was dark blue patches of sky, and beautiful puffs of pink pastel clouds. And I felt a great need to walk on the ground, even though it had patches of snow.

I had a pot of noodles I had carried from inside the house, I wanted to share with my sister. But she had started ahead of me, in her big old work-suit, with her dog.

So I called out, asking her if she wanted any noodles.

“Nope.”

So I slowed down, and ate my noodles while walking, and set the pot down in the middle of the field, and took off my shoes.

And walked in the cold earth and snow. It felt so good, connecting to the ground, after being around so many people. So many codes, so many rules, and ideas, seeping off the buildings, and skin of those around us, bumping into us.

I felt like the ground helped to plug me back in.

Though as I am writing this, I think I may have walked a little to far barefoot, because my toes feel they may have got a little too much snow-burned. I may have to go inspect them. Maybe cayenne pepper my toes to warm the skin up.

Also another favorite bit about yesterday, I was determined to varnish the paper bag floor in the kitchen. I had been fixing areas that had gotten scuffed, painting, and patching places where there were tears, and holes in the floor.

 I had put little bits of varnish, here, and there, on the spots I had fixed. Only to realize, the floor was not as shiny as I had thought, especially after applying bits of varnish to my patch jobs.

So.

I varnished the floor, as best as I could. In increments. And now it’s shiny again. It’s so beautiful, I didn’t realize it had gotten dull.

Now it reflects the light from the window, and makes the room brighter.

I love this.

I think I’m going to try re-varnishing the hallway now.

We’ll see.

Either way I feel frustrated, honestly. There have been some clashes in my house.

I have some tough teachers----depending on the day.

Or perhaps depending on what I need to learn.

Or the weather. 

Or something.

Solar flairs. 

I hope I get a passing grade.

Sometimes, it is hard.

Because.

 I’ve tried my best mitigate situations, that are muchy. Tried my best to soften things.

To smooth.

Sometimes, I guess you could say, it sounds like kissing butt.

And often times it feels this way.

But I feel like I’m trying, as best as I can, to Be like Gandhi.

To see the fighting, and lay down my sword, and say.

“Come what may.”

We are all brothers, and sisters.

And so.

I think as everything bubbles up to the surface, and energies are heightened.

I hope we all can be more soft.

I hope we can all see each other.

That I can say, “I see you.”

As my self.

And why would I fight me?

Why would I want to take from me?

Why would I want to judge myself?

Why would I want to argue with me?

Why would I want to take from me?

Why would I want to do anything except good, to you, who is also me?

To speak well of the me that is you.

Why would I want to laugh, or take, or hurt, any part of myself?

Yet…

Some teachers are so good, they don’t even know how good they are.

They come up with something new to teach you, everyday.

And you wonder sometimes…

When you’ll finally learn enough.

To up-level.

Or maybe even graduate. Maybe become an educator yourself.

Higher up.

Maybe…

One who teaches softly.