Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere. – Einstein
Everything written or posted in 2007 and 08
Daddy, I reach up with my whole heart and gaze at you,
eyes widened, eager; wishing for your arm hanging there happenstance.
I am filled with hope and I itch
for you to hold my hand.
I linger, waiting, with another glance up at you.
Will you look down, will you grab my hand
a sudden tenderness?
Or will life pull you on toward the rush that ‘doing’ brings?
Am I comfortably settled or am I stuck? When was the last time I dreamt in full color? Of things long forgotten — Of pulse pounding, scary, risky things? Am I fully awake? I used to love the smells, sights, and sounds of Different. Am I sure that this life right in front of me is the one I was meant to live? I am blown by forces stronger than myself. I am carried on the wind into a future I cannot not smell, or see or hear.
I woke up and my dreams today is are so good. I am frantic to see it, to record it and to somehow divine the world Out There.
It may become too unsettling, upsetting, and disjointed for a family to endure. It may be selfish. It may ignore the good places in my life that I have forged with utilitarian sacrifice; sweat and tears given willingly yet with a price. My past, my here – and – now is settled, sometimes stuck, but known and understood. Am I fully alive, if I can not manage to live my Dreams alongside the steady pulse of Love that fills my life every day? Surrounding me. It protects me. And covers me, and I lose myself.
I can breathe, so I must be alive, but I feel stifled by the collision of my Dreams and every day realities. I am alive, but I grow cautious and ever more afraid like dreaming is dangerous. Am I more afraid — to fly — or to fail? Am – I- settled- or- am- I- stuck? Am I fully alive?
I breathe therefore I Am. But what then?
August 25, 2008
Suicide, for most inconceivable.This is dedicated to my friend and colleague, Dave Foster who took his life last Tuesday, at 4:00 am. I worked with him for several years at InterVarsity. I loved & admired him. He was an innovative, interesting, delightful person. He was a real professional. Imperfect, as we all are. Rough around the edges. He loved his family so much and I always sensed a desire to protect and provide.
I can not imagine the grief that his widow and three children are feeling. It seemed to happen completely out of the blue and everyone is seeking answers.
What was the cause of this unimaginable act? We will likely never have the answers to this sad mystery.
Good bye Dave. At last you have found peace for your restless soul.
I just don’t quite know what to say. I think John McCain is going Cuckoo. Don’t get me wrong, I was a John McCain fan, back when he was truly independent, truly a maverick. I have to admit I was crazy for the guy. He really had me. I was so seriously in love with John McCain, I even have a MCCAIN t-shirt and considering the options at the time I confess that I would have voted for him (though I almost can’t admit it now). But I feel he has ‘sold his soul to the devil’ in order to become the Republican candidate for president. He is not the man he once was. I’m not quite sure what has happened. It can’t be as simple as a lust for power, but it is really distressing. I’m not writing a treatise here on John McCain, just passing this YouTube video on. He has done some really productive things for our country as a US Senator. But growing up with a father who had rage issues, I must admit this video scares the hell out of me.
I hope you’ll watch this video, it will take you less than five minutes, on John Mccain’s temper.
This is the best summary I have seen on the state of the current financial crisis, which I read online in Scientific Monthly. Succinct with ways to fix things.
But before reading that article, consider this poem by Kipling. I loved it when I first read it.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;
If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And which is more; you’ll be a Man, my son!Rudyard Kipling1865-1936, written in 1895
Originally uploaded by M e l o d y
I am 42 today and considering my life. I was born in the highlands of Papua New Guinea on this day in 1966. I am the 2nd daughter of missionary parents. I spent the first eight years of my life there in PNG. It was a wonderful beginning. The middle was kind of rough, but it is improving every day! Perhaps it is kind of silly to ask “Who am I?” at my age, but today this is what I did.
— Melody
What might you not know about me?
I’m addicted to coffee. Seriously it’s a physical and psychological thing and if I don’t have it, I might just come unhinged. Of course being an alcoholic, I don’t drink. But I do smoke and I know it’s a slow form of suicide. I don’t do it lightly (almost every cigarette comes with lucid acknowledgment of the consequence.) but I definitely cannot quit at this time. I love to exercise and eat well, but I don’t (usually.) I play music every day; all kinds and it is life-giving. I am diagnosed with major depressive disorder, which means in layman’s terms: I have a propensity for melancholia and if I don’t manage it, it will come back. At its worst this type of depression is like drowning in your worst nightmare, a stinking, dark hellish place to reside. Where truth becomes lies, and lies truth. You are incapable of doing, feeling, thinking, reading, sometimes even breathing. Thankfully I’ve been depression-free for almost two years. [I may regret saying this, but you have an open invitation to ask me if I am exercising & eating,because these are the first disciplines to go. Also, if you haven’t seen me in a while, it can be a bad sign because I begin to isolate.]
Depression, alcoholism, insecurity, damage, they are not my complete story, my story is just starting.
I believe God brought into my life the perfect person for me; he loves me by asking hard questions, telling me the truth about myself which usually means “good stuff” but sometimes even hard truths. He encourages my passions and interests, supports them as well, which is no small thing in this financial climate. He is a warrior on my behalf and I love him more than I have shown him or will ever be capable of showing.
People have described me as aloof and private, which I am but mostly because I am shy and those demons of insecurity are playing out in my head more often than I would like to admit.
I am creative, intuitive, capable, kind, thoughtful, deep, at times extremely selfish & critical of others, but mostly about my ideas and my time.
My critical spirit, my insecurities, can and do hurt those I love and it is one of my deepest regrets; an Achilles heal.
I am passionate and always reading & thinking about things that are important to me, but I often fail at finishing and carrying them out. Books lay around unread, photographs unprinted, my book of poetry sits unfinished, and commitments become a burden, as I selfishly move on to something new.
I need community, long for it, work to develop it, but most times I fall short through my own weaknesses and broken heart. You can be confident that I want to know you, be in your life, especially if I have told you, but my stupid S**T keeps me entangled at times.
All in all, I would say I am a good person.
As I learn what it means to be a child of an alcoholic I can acknowledge that I am still growing up, even at 42; still learning and discovering who I am and how I want to live. I am slowing waking up – from a life-draining, sad, lonely, scared and cold childhood. All in all, I am blessed beyond belief – with great love, friendship, abundance, talents and so much more. I acknowledge that, even while I ache with the painful knowledge that I cannot fully embrace my life – yet – due to all of the above. The most important thing people may not know about me is that HOPE is the central thing of importance in my life. If I have even a tiny inkling of hope – a belief, a dream or something to hope for, I can put all of this aside. (Okay, not totally of course.)
Although this list isn’t complete, (how could a perfectionist “complete” a list) it is all true, as I know myself, today on my forty-second birthday, 2008. Thanks for being a friend, getting involved in my messy life. Keep hanging in there, because I believe it’s on an upward curve and I am hopeful about the future. It is simply a record of my thoughts, and perhaps will give you a glimpse at the ME I let very few in to see. You do not, should not, feel an obligation to reply.
September 24, 2008
Melody Hanson
I needed a father who would love me for who I am, not who I might be or who I might become.
I needed to be able to speak my mind, express myself, have opinions, and not feel I was your captive, imprisoned by you being right every time.
I needed a father who would not yell at me, at my sisters, at my mom. All I can remember is constant bellowing, uproar, fear and pain.
I needed you and what you gave was distance, scowls, the expansive cloud of disappointment hung about us all the time.
Will I ever know why you were so angry?
I needed a mother who didn’t push people away; who wasn’t always afraid of him, of me, of living her life.
I had a mother who was dangerously sad. We all knew it. Because of it, I was always afraid, always tired, and scared of life. If she couldn’t manage, how could I? She’s still afraid, but at least, I know why.
I needed parents who knew how to laugh at themselves. I am slowly unlearning that legacy. I need to be able to poke fun at myself.
It is so simple. So satisfyingly good to gaze at my imperfections and know it’s perfectly okay.
I needed a father who came home and wanted to be there; who gave hugs that didn’t feel off because they didn’t jive with constant anger, constant fear. Hot cold. Hot cold. The sting of our speculation. If only you wouldn’t feel ‘rejected’ all the time. If only you understood that your deeds didn’t match your words.
I needed someone to watch me grow, with joy.
I needed you to remember me daily. If not every day, often enough to not let me get lost in books and fantasy, in forgetting, in weary striving for what’s unattainable, even impossible.
I needed you to help me on this journey of life. I was falling down, over and over, stumbling, until I thought I couldn’t do anything right. Plunging into failure and living up to your disappointment with your life.
I needed a mother who would remember my birthday.
I needed a father who didn’t make me cry.
I needed. I needed so much and when I allow myself to imagine how much I needed you, my heart feels full of gravel; my insides closing in. My heart is bursting with confusion, anguish; My heart is full of your unthinkable, backbreaking life.
It is something that I can’t put my full mind to, yet. Perhaps because I don’t want to discover that I needed so much from you and it is too late. Too late for what I needed. Too late.
[Too
late
for
need.]
10/06/08 MHH
Logic & Imagination 