What did you do today? Was there fabulousness?

[wheelieterp]

Today I saw no waterfalls, nor ate any cheese. There were no beetles like jewels, and happy dogs cannot compete with happy-rumbling-kitty-pleasure-thunder and dancing paws. Today I walked no wooded paths, was kissed by no mist, nor did I amble along any rivers of any beverage-like color. Today I rolled into work late, and worked hard, with crafty hands of broken families and glad tidings. Today was familiar with pain that was in a new place, but even that can be won over by a smile and laugh, no matter how Polly-Anna that sounds. And like kittens on branches in pithy posters and crocheted bible slip covers, I hang on and keep the faith. Because I still want to be child-like in my wisdom, or a big headed dog with no compunctions and slobbery happiness...

And I am still convinced that they might be the same thing.



A Year Ago

Comments

[danjite.livejournal.com]

There was fabulousness in the skies!

We have been running around in preparation for Thanksgiving tomorrow. You see, it is five weeks from winter solstice and we needed our harvest festival to fend off the dark and cold and the Kiwis DON'T HAVE ONE.

We live on a gorgeous hilltop with wide views of the harbour. We had a visible rainbow- full arch- in view of the living room. We saw it all the way down the hill. While we were driving north, driving back south... we had FOUR HOURS of one rainbow, lasting all the way until just before sunset.

Fabulous indeed.

These was cheese, too, in teh mustard sauce on the cauliflower.

[dodgingwndshlds.livejournal.com]

God has gay love for you! It's wondrous and beautiful!

[danjite.livejournal.com]

It is. I am thankful for it at least twice a day, and that is on the bad days!

[philhasablog.livejournal.com]

yea.

[luckytiger.livejournal.com]

Yesterday I thought it would be a summery evening and it was raining and today I thought it would be raining and it was all summery. Leaving there is like walking out of a matinee, and I might always expect the emotional climate of our work to be what I walk out into at the end of every shift. I don't know yet, but I know I can't even listen to the radio for at least a half hour after I leave. If that has anything to do with anything...

[dodgingwndshlds.livejournal.com]

It's like building a beach: It takes a few big storms in the beginning to lay out the first of the sand, but once it builds up enough, it takes the really big storms to really impact it again.

Which is a fancy (and probably inaccurate) way of saying: "You get used to it."

And that is not as sad or jaded as it sounds. You start to realize that you are a part of these people's lives, and for better or for worse, you are there for all of it. It becomes comfortable and familiar. And even the large tragedies and sudden deaths wash over you and merely rearrange things a little. It starts to become really focused on the work, and less so on their experiences. The first time that you realize that you just worked a six hour shift of arguments and drama, and the call that makes you feel the most is a pizza order, you realize that the content doesn't belong to you, you're just a witness, and the part that is sacred to you is the process. That's when you really feel like an interpreter. When you feel that you've made a pizza order as profoundly equal as it can possibly be.

It's good to sit with that for a half an hour before music, I think. It helps keep one humble in the face of it all. The drive home is like a cross between an airlock and a meditation chamber.

[luckytiger.livejournal.com]

i couldn't have said it better. The work is totally profound and totally profane and the content has nothing at all to with me but I still walk away feeling the impact.