Day in the Life of an American

I must accomplish something.

I must accomplish something.

So I was the dishes, I cook dinner and I watch TV.

I also think about calling, texting, inviting, driving, laughing, heartbeats, and beer.

I will sleep now to the sounds of my neighbors cellos and violins and wake refreshed.

Dim Sum

Dim Sum

Drink Tea.

Many little dishes pass by. Point and eat. Instant gratification. Delayed only if you are not quick with lazy susan and chopsticks.

We are no longer the only white people at the Empress’ Palace at the end of china town, not far from the royal pagoda. My aunt’s friend speaks Chinese and makes friends with one of the waitresses. It is not often a white middle aged housewife with teenage kids can speak to the waitresses in their language.

There are many little dishes. Tea cups and fortunes. I am full and never want to eat again.

I am tired but never want to sleep again.

My bike is in downtown LA surrounded by a sea of nighttime and cars.

Will food always be the enemy? How are backbones developed? Where do morals start to wash away in the tide? Who are you to say? Who am I to hope?

If…my sister were a tree I would climb into her branches and fight off the big business with their sharp axes and words.



Adventure starts here. The breath in my throat tide up on my tongue afraid to ship out to sea.

Google Research

The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things on
The heart is made up of four different blood-filled areas
the heart is a thick wall of muscle
Where the Heart Is (Oprah's Book Club)
The heart is a vital organ that basically serves as a pump
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter
If home is where the heart is, why aren't more of us showing our hearts on our homes?
At first, the heart is just a tube
The heart is a hollow muscular organ that receives and distributes blood.
The heart is one point in the body that collects the blood and pumps it out into
the symbolism of the heart is a symbolism founded upon reality and that it constitutes the special object of the devotion to the Sacred Heart,
the heart is given a slight electrical shock and resumes normal
the heart is working harder than usual
Path of the Heart is dedicated to exploring all avenues and possibilities
Homework is Where the Heart Is. I'm fairly certain
The Heart Is Unknown Country
failure" indicates the heart is not pumping
The heart is the engine of human life
The heart is located under the rib cage, to the left of your breastbone
the heart is disturbed for some reason
the Heart is not all sap and sentiment
The size of a clenched fist, the heart is
Blood returning to the heart is a dark bluish red
The heart is constantly secreting chemical factors it needs to maintain itself
the heart is not emptied completely with each beat
The heart is a mechanical
The heart is powered by external batteries inserted into the patient’s abdomen
An EKG shows how fast the heart is beating
the heart is understood as the totality of subtle
the heart is an abnormality of the rhythm
The heart is harvested in standard fashion

Not so sweet - November

I didn’t want to be your Sweet November.

The other day, I saw a house for sale. I saw the price tag was 600,000 dollars beyond my budget and to be honest I am not in the market for buying, but still I sashayed up the drive way. I pressed my face against the windows and saw the living rooms and the bedrooms. I imagined myself living there. My bed against that wall. My clothes thrown about the floor. My artwork on the walls. And then I walked away. My shoulders a bit more slouched. My smile padded with an index card for a what never could have been. I sit in the neighbors yard and file my nails.

I rode my bike home today. It was grey and almost dark at 4.40. I kept missing the green light. A conversation that should have been over coffee or a walk to the park half happened at a street corner observing blonde girls running towards Hannah Montana at the new light soaked Nokia center. I pedaled hard.

94.7 the wa-a-ave plays smooth jazz on the radio… “love love love” and commercials advertisements.

My heart is wood block. I have given up a splinter. And it hurts. But I don’t want the splinter back. It would not fit anymore. The wound where it was cut out is a bit swollen, tender and distracted.

I usually want things to mean more than they do. I want there to be a grand grand reason for why I worked in a grey cubicle for the last two years. I wanted symbolism in the fact that September 29, 2007 was a Friday and my brother’s birthday.

Am I made up a finite number of splinters? What does it feel like to fall whole? A bag of potatoes plunges to the ground. Asparagus. Tomoates. Onions. Bell Peppers. A rainbow of vegetables.

I bought a pack of cigarettes smoked a few and gave away the rest. It cost the same to get money out at the convenience store when buying a pack of cigarettes as using the non-my-bank-ATM. And the homeless people like cigarettes more than leftover food.

On the Metro yesterday a man rubbed up against my lower back when I was seated. I moved away on the pretense of being closer to my friends. I needed no pretense. I was upset by him. He kept trying to smile at me. Gawking like an awkward or drunk child. I am angry that things like that happen. I was having a fine night. And for the record I had a fine night. But I also wanted to throw up. There is always the question of what I did wrong to bring that kind of sleazy attention.

The Friday before. I smiled at boy over a pile of papers we had to sort. He proceeded to ask me out. It was sweet like Jello. I wish I had grace like a ballet dancer. I wish I could pirouette out of any situation. Point my toes, stretch my arm like a swan in a sparkly tutu and plie my way out of there.

There are no uses for hard and fast rules in certain situation. I gave up vows of the unhealthy kind. I wonder if there is hope for me.

“You are the sunshine in my life… you are the apple of my eye…” the speakers sing to me from the ceiling.

27th and Budlong

He pulls her out of the car. He hits her with a brush. Her face bleeds
and screams. Her voice does not penetrate. Nothing breaks
but the grass at the park bends to the wind of her breath.

He drives away with a screech and a slammed door.
I pass by on my bicycle. I watch this scene looking for the end credits.
From under my helmet my hair whips around my face. I double

back. My mouth and eyes are dry and wide. Do you need help?
Girl, I want them in jail. They’re going to jail tonight. A cop car drives by.
I drop my bike to the ground and wave the cops down.

I have an extra shirt. I give it her to stop the blood.
Girl, thank you the police don’t care bout this.
I give the police officer my name. He calls an ambulance.

As I ride away I wonder who will pay.
My helmet dangles from the handlebars.

To those of us, distressed.

I lost my glasses in the pacific ocean, when a moment of not quite sure what to call it made me dive under a wave and I had my glasses on. When I came up I could not see. I had been thirsty for feeling alive and when I resurfaced everything was fuzzy. I felt a strange peace as I asked a stranger and his kids to look for my glasses as I could not see them even if they were in front of me. They went unfound. I watched the sun sparkling on the waves. If you do not need glasses than you don’t know what this looks like. Many tiny orbs of light dancing on the moving surface of the water. It was beautiful. Yet to be solved was how to get home, as I certainly can not drive without my glasses. We all need a little help from our friends and I found myself in a situation where I was forced to ask.

Trying to have hope.
Broken things can be repaired.
I have hope.
Broken things can be repaired.

James 1.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

Romans 5

also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

What is character? What is hope? These are the things I want for us… they are backbones so we can stand up straight and dance through the night. So we can live well with ourselves, our friends, our enemies, our God.

When life gives you winter, go ice skating.

Words from brother Roger:

God wants happiness for us! But he never invites us to be indifferent to the suffering of others. When we are faced by trials, God encourages us to be creators.

Our life finds meaning when it is the living response to a call from God. But how can we discern God’s call? Many people ask, “What does God want from me?”

In inner silence this answer can well up: “Dare to give your life for others, there you will find meaning for your existence”

God wants us to be a reflection of his presence, bearers of a Gospel of hope.

All who respond to this call remain aware of their own frailties, but they keep the words of Christ in there hearts: “Do not be afraid, only trust!”

The Holy Spirit has the strength to sustain a yes for our whole life. Has he not placed in human bearings a desire for eternity, the infinite?

In the Spirit again and again it is possible to find new momentum and say to ourselves, “Be steadfast of heart, and keep going forward!” and we can make this discovery: it is sometimes in demanding situations that human beings fully become themselves.

And then by his mysterious presence, the Holy Spirit brings about change in our hearts, rapidly for some, imperceptibly for others. What had been obscure and disturbing becomes clear.

Until the end of our days, daring to say yes can bring about much clarity. This yes is a transparent trust. It is the love in all our loving.

I am praying...