An Empathetic Note on Valentines Day

Blinded by Love
Originally uploaded by Dannybhoy

For those who haven't always been romantically infatuated with St. valentines maligned day of celebration here is a poem.

THE BROKEN HEART.
by John Donne


He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour ;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come !
All other griefs allow a part
To other griefs, and ask themselves but some ;
They come to us, but us love draws ;
He swallows us and never chaws ;
By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.

If 'twere not so, what did become
Of my heart when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me.
If it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite ;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more.


But for all those who are hurting, or have been hurt, I offer this, So that you don't become overwhelmed in your heartbreak...Twice or thrice I loved thee, before I knew thy face or name.....

AIR AND ANGELS.
by John Donne


TWICE or thrice had I loved thee,
Before I knew thy face or name ;
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame
Angels affect us oft, and worshipp'd be.
Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
Some lovely glorious nothing did I see.
But since my soul, whose child love is,
Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do,
More subtle than the parent is
Love must not be, but take a body too ;
And therefore what thou wert, and who,
I bid Love ask, and now
That it assume thy body, I allow,
And fix itself in thy lip, eye, and brow.

Whilst thus to ballast love I thought,
And so more steadily to have gone,
With wares which would sink admiration,
I saw I had love's pinnace overfraught ;
Thy every hair for love to work upon
Is much too much ; some fitter must be sought ;
For, nor in nothing, nor in things
Extreme, and scattering bright, can love inhere ;
Then as an angel face and wings
Of air, not pure as it, yet pure doth wear,
So thy love may be my love's sphere ;
Just such disparity
As is 'twixt air's and angels' purity,
'Twixt women's love, and men's, will ever be.

Delicate

Delicate
Originally uploaded by Dannybhoy

Maybe we are more fragile than we think.

Oh Inverted World!

Oh Inverted World!
Originally uploaded by Dannybhoy

A man says to his neighbor, 'I am a liar'. His neighbor replies, 'I have never lied'. Who would you trust more?

A man says to his neighbor, 'I care about the poor'. His neighbor says 'I care for people'. Who will help someone in need?

A man says to his neighbor 'I am a Christian, because I believe in God'. His neighbor says nothing and gives his coat to someone in need. Who knew better how to follow Christ?

Where Ive been and what I see. Jones Gap and Congaree Natl. Forest.

I held her
with awkward limbs accustomed
to more weight,
habits of work and time.
I daren't move
or shift about but little
lest I wake
and steal her from dreams
so gently
-10.23.07 DJO

Congaree Swamp Camp trip

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This past weekend I went camping with james, phil, and micheal at the Congaree Swamp Natl Park. Heres some shots, note the new tent/hammock which worked fantastic and kept me nice and dry.
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What's That? A Hint of Fall?

First, dear reader(s?), let me describe to you my surroundings. I sit in the computer lab at school, empty but for one other person who taps merrily at keys from around the corner. My legs are propped up on the desk in front of me and the thin chic dell keyboard is sitting on lap. For what ever reason the lab techs have apparently decided to not turn the lights on, but instead allow the natural light spilling from the broad windows facing campus to fill the room with a soft glow. The air outside is excited by a thread of chill air that seems to keep it constantly stirring. Like someone nervous with anticipation. All at once the feeling is tangible but constantly escaping, like smoke flowing and disappearing into the air around it. So a new season begins.
My current surroundings seem to reflect my mood, or maybe vice versa. I feel very relaxed, excited, but not anxious, moving but not rushed, content but not complacent. For the first time in a long time fall does not feel like a descent into the madness of school, but simply a slight shift in routine. I guess I am trying to say I feel very grounded. Having a home here seems to do that. For the first time, school and home are separate. I can come to school and do work, then leave and go home where I am free to relax and enjoy the evening without the constant blurring of lines. For whatever reason this distinction seems important to me. A necessary division so that neither the tension of work nor the relaxation of home overpowers the other.
I feel extremely motivated. I'm not sure why. Maybe I self actualized over the summer. I hear thats always motivating.
I've been thinking a lot, a usual past time for me that I indulge probably to the point of gluttony (although it should be noted here that quantity does not equal quality). And it has occurred to me that single people think about love and dating more than coupled people do. Probably because we are not busy embroiling ourselves in such practices, and thus are endowed with much more free time.
So i have been thinking a lot about love, arguing with professors about it discussing it with friends, turning it over and over till it doesn't make sense any more. Love to me is not the action, nor the emotion. It is not buying someone you love a gift or feeling like you are in love. these are the results of love. Love has got to be something much deeper. Something that cannot be imitated. Love to me is the core of our beings, the essence of what we do and why we do it. love is and its subject determines are actions. We are like mirrors half reflecting light. On one hand we reflect light, that is, God. He is the illumination of everything, he defines objects that otherwise would be shapeless in the dark. The light of God is the mother of beauty, and wherever beauty is found it is only reflects her inherited glory. On the other hand we reflect so much else, all darkness. Ourselves, lovers, objects, and in reflecting them we are enslaved. Coiled, trapped by the necessary reflection of this darkness. it is these competing loves, for God and all else that create a conflict within us. If we have a love of something in us, we have a desire to do an action. An emotion, and an action that is associated with that love. If we feel a strong emotion, it is because we are giving in to one love, it is tae. But it cannot completely take it all. this is where the choice occurs, If we have the love of God being over powered by the love of self, we do not act in opposition to to the emotion generated by love of self, but in favor of of the love of God and the emotion thus generated. Basically, love is never in opposition, but only in favor. Maybe this is a subtle distinction, but I believe it is important. It is not enough to say, Act against emotion. To act in Love is to automatically favor an emotion.

Even at a bible college you can feel the night.

Things I love at my house: The Backyard

 

Time Passing

The summer is flying by. Where does it go? My days are lost in painting and it seems most nights I end up with something going on. Cooking with Kelly, international cuisine experimentation with Hodges, Liz and Adam, Joel and Rachelle, Gary and all the rest. (Indian food was quite the success, more on that later) then theres the dancing....

I started dance lessons a few weeks ago. Berrett, Casie, Nathan Clinebelle, Heather Parsons, Brianne, Dylan, the Gentry's (all but Dr. Gentry who refuses to dance) and more. So far we have covered the Foxtrot and Rumba quite thoroughly. Tuesday nights just got so much more exciting.

In other news, my house flooded. really. sort of. This past Saturday a bunch of friends came over for indian food, (Chicken Moghul, Basmati Rice, and Naan)leaving the house still smelling of cardamom, garlic and bay leaves. After cooking the main dish (Its a group function) we began to finish up the Naan. It was about this time that the rain began to fall. (dramatic pause inserted here.) Mac, down from charlotte for the weekend had apparently run out to his car for some reason. Trying to assess whether his car was still out in the driveway or not, I opened the front door for a peak.

Now for those unfamiliar with my house, let me explain the walk way. From the gravel drive to the front patio is a sloping gravel path that ends in a small cement brick patio. The drive is coming down a hill where situated atop is the ol' family home of Mrs. Harrell, whose house I am renting. Now when we have a deluge such as the one on Saturday water tends to puddle right in front of the door. By puddle I of course mean a lake forms that swallows the bottom 3 feet of my walk.

Back to me opening the door. Turning the knob without a second thought and assured of dry earth by rainbows seen all my life, I opened the door and water immediately came into the house, spilling over the stoop and seeping across the carpet. I slammed the door shut, called for some towels and after seeing that the door was being properly stuffed with dry cloth, I grabbed my five way (a painters best friend which he should always have handy) and headed out to do my best.

The water seemed to instantly soak my shirt paints and hair. I leapt barefoot fromt he back door to the front over gardenias and azaleas to be greeted by a quickly growing body of water. I think Ill here after refer to it as Loch Harrell. Five way in hand and water running down my face in sheets I set to work digging drenches to let the water drain. Joel Eaton and Adam Talbot soon joined me, half naked and barefoot (Half clothed and unshoed?) and we set to work on clearing the water. After maybe fifteen minutes or so in the soaking rain we managed to divert the flow of water away from the porch and clear off enough water to be sure that it wasn't going to build up any more. Wet and manly in our water diverting abilities we re entered the back door victorious and just in time for the last few pieces of Naan to be finished. Dinner was a quite delicious.

I went with Mac to Mrs. Harrells house this afternoon to talk to her about what had just happened. It went over well and her and her handyman Jerry are going to look after it in the morning as well as a few other things....

Joel just brought his drumset down from New Hampshire, it was a ruckus filled afternoon as we just jammed for several hours beating out some blues and rock. One of my favorite afternoons this summer. It felt good to just crank up and jam.

Well thats all for today, I leave you with a thought from Eugene Peterson-

The Secularized mind is terrorized by mysteries, thus it makes lists, labels people, assigns roles, and solves problems. But a solved life is a reduced life...l