a comparison

today i got my hair cut. and as i sat waiting to meet my new stylist it occurred to me that this was like going on a first date... hmm.

he showed up, " hi, i'm david, are you annelies?"
"yes."

okay let the games begin. i went in with clear expectations of how the end result would turn out. little did i know that he would wax philosophic about my hair. after i finished describing the look i wanted, he paused in silence and stood thoughtfully. then he proceeded to tell me he could do the cut, but considering my face shape it wouldn't be best- perhaps a rounded graduated cut instead? clearly, i enunciated that i wanted sideswept bangs. i am usually not a wallflower about stating what i think about something and being in the hair salon's chair, i wasn't going to go wallflower now.

he called over his superior as a "consultation." she quickly and curtly explained that bangs would look dated, very "grandmotherly" (when was the last time you saw a grandma with bangs?) and made a face. she then sneered in saying that the print-out of photos showed hairstyles that were all wrong, that were good only because of the face attached to them. i sat there, seething, fingers interlaced and tapping against each other. argh. (the thought of getting out of the chair crossed my mind. but stay i did).

and so this was the fun, rocky start of our "first run." i did the obligatory chatting about banal things- number of siblings, hometown, degree, hobbies- and tried to laugh and keep it light, counting the minutes. unfortunately he kept having problems getting the same length on the left side as the right. i waited, cringing inside, considering lopping it all off elsewhere if i hated it.

the end of a first date or in this case a first haircut can be rather awkward. i always feel it necessary to emphatically agree that "i like my hair" out loud so the stylist in question will feel good that i'm happy. and usually that day doesn't come until a few weeks later when i've grown into it. but i took his businesscard, smiled and said "i'll be in touch." we'll see about that, no need to be rude.

my favorite hairstylist- the one i trust the most now lives in another state and i'm considering if southwest airlines has specials for haircuts. not sure.

my new street moniker

i was dubbed "pepper" tonight by my friend mike at the homeless dinner. he said he's going to start calling me this because i'm "fiery, temperamental, but you can't help but love her." and thus he kept saying this to people who would walk by our table. i've been given numerous names throughout the years. my most prevalent one that even my boss falls back on is "az."

it's good to have mike back in my life again. i miss our talks. today's was brief but i mentioned that i've been thinking a lot about st. francis of assisi and had this urge to purge in big ways. he told me that st. francis is one of the few christians he admires/digs. which is huge since moments before he had mentioned he just bought a new mini-hindu temple for his digs complete with vishnu and shiva idols.

he's tapping into his inner ravi shankar. i kid and yet who knows what has brought on this recent foray into the religious side of hinduism.

we studied psalm 51 tonight in our "second helping" bible study which was so full of new faces. what does it look like to realize that really you are king and yet you have slept with another man's wife, gotten her pregnant, and then through manuevers, had her husband killed? this psalm/ poem really cuts to the quick on this issue. and my favorite line or the one that speaks most keenly to me "let the bones you have crushed rejoice." yes, let them sing on.

is this the rugby world cup?

this weekend i meandered over to a pub on haight st. to watch first the argentina/mexico game and the next day the netherlands/portugal game.

argentina clearly beat out mexico. the netherlands defeat was bit more of a surprise... i believe a total of 18 cards were passed out during the whole of the game. what with the pulling, pushing, tripping and kicking it might as well have been a rugby or hockey game where the players can physically check one another.

the mood at the pub: loud and dark. i walked in sunday afternoon to raucous bellowing of irish songs (and later found out cork had won their match). fish and chips at the bar, i waited for my friend mad to show up, all the while peering up at the t.v. above me watching the lack of activity and then the dismal thing which was the portuguese goal. and then it occurred to me to check my voicemail.

i joined mad and team of netherland-supporters in a loft i hadn't previously seen until post-voicemail. she had scoped it out. we had great seats and the energy was palpable as we yelled at the referee making stupid calls. it seemed as though the order of the day was to waste time down on the ground crying or grasping a groin or knee. babies.

at the end of the match, we left aware that nothing could change. our team was out.

but there's always next week's england/portugal match. may the english show the portuguese their proper place. argh.

How much does this rock?

The article below is an example of the best reason to be rich. Warren Buffett must truly be rich of heart.


Gates: Buffett gift may help cure worst diseases

Warren Buffett's gift of about $1.5 billion a year to the Gates foundation will be used to seek cures for the world's worst diseases and improve U.S. education, Bill Gates said Monday.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13541144/from/ET/

a psalmist in scotland

tonight at bible study, there was a small group of us huddled together to explore and discuss psalm 148, which talked about praising God and things that praise God like: shining stars-hail-lightning-ocean depths-kings-maidens-cattle-animals of the field kind of thing.

so we discussed who the psalmist was ("moses" was a response thrown out with a stoic expression on the face of the speaker) as well as the geographical inspiration for this psalm ("i think the psalmist was in the u.k.- probably scotland because of the cattle mentioned"- all spoken aloud with the utmost sincerity, same speaker). it took everything within me to not bust out with a great guffaw and so blamed the gi-normous grin breaking out on my face to alexis trying to tickle me (though i'm not ticklish...)

what a night of runaway trains. thank you sonic youth for giving words to my experience.

one thing that emphasized something huge that kept popping up over the weekend is to be yourself, exercise your passions/gifts/talents and in all of this you are praising God because you are being true to who He created you to be. here's a freebie quote from thomas merton on this very topic. enjoy.

"a tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying Him. It 'consents,' so to speak, to His creative love. It is expressing an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree." ~tm

a psalmist in scotland

tonight at bible study, there was a small group of us huddled together to explore and discuss psalm 148, which talked about praising God and things that praise God like: shining stars-hail-lightning-ocean depths-kings-maidens-cattle-animals of the field kind of thing.

so we discussed who the psalmist was ("moses" was a response thrown out with a stoic expression on the face of the speaker) as well as the geographical inspiration for this psalm ("i think the psalmist was in the u.k.- probably scotland because of the cattle mentioned"- all spoken aloud with the utmost sincerity, same speaker). it took everything within me to not bust out with a great guffaw and so blamed the gi-normous grin breaking out on my face to alexis trying to tickle me (though i'm not ticklish...)

what a night of runaway trains. thank you sonic youth for giving words to my experience.

one thing that emphasized something huge that kept popping up over the weekend is to be yourself, exercise your passions/gifts/talents and in all of this you are praising God because you are being true to who He created you to be. here's a freebie quote from thomas merton on this very topic. enjoy.

"a tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying Him. It 'consents,' so to speak, to His creative love. It is expressing an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree." ~tm

airport musing

i have gotten three hours of sleep and am waiting in the atlanta airport until my ride comes. there's always something so interesting about people watching at airports and this one is no different. there have been many army officers milling about. i have slept about three hours but am alive and awake, feeding off of the energy of all the well rested around me. they are on their way somewhere- in transit- such a vivid visual of life in general. it's comforting. i think this is in due part to all those tradeshows... let's hope that when the conference starts i will be alert and acute.

oh and i suck at sudoku, try though i might...

what the world needs now: a self-inventory

often when we hear something multiple times, it hinges on the fact that we probably need the reminders, but the message begins to sound stale.

and so was my frame of mind as i encountered 1 corinthians 13 the other evening. a certain swagger of manner upon turning to the page. a clearing of the throat like one who has something important to contribute or about to give an expertly opinion. a chapter dedicated to love. the most recited passage in weddings. i could almost feel the chip on my shoulder before i commenced my reading because i thought i knew what this chapter was about. read on. internal monologue captured in parentheses.



love is patient and kind. (duh.)

love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. (not feeling very any of these today- but then again, i think i was cutting in a comment with my coworker rob.)

love does not demand its own way. (gulp. what was that? but i like things a certain way. hmm, must ruminate further.)

love is not irritable and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. (so you mean i'm actually supposed to toss that checklist of offenses and i have to not be annoyed when things don't go the way i plan?)

it is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. (i totally agree with this. but really only when the truth is on my side.)

love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. (sometimes i expect the worst to happen, less frequently as time goes on. but the enduring through every circumstance- that may be the easiest and hardest phrase of all here)



and i survey this list finding myself coming up so short, wondering if i have ever truly loved anyone more than myself. because in the end love also requires putting others before us and dying to self. who really wants to die to self in tangible ways? because i think deep down i don't think i would be alone in the "loveless" boat. the body shrieks for something and we cave in. it's as simple as that.

but here's what i love about a relationship with God. he hears all the subtext and internal monologue and LOVES me. messy, old, unfinished selfish me. he actually loves me in the 1 cor. way because as psalm 103 stipulates, he KNOWS us, knows how we are from dust and so quickly gone. He provides a model in a world of syrupy-hollywood-pop music-bopping love. i can learn to love because of the love He models and gives to me and you so freely. and there's always the second and thirtieth chances to make it right. for me to be just a bit more like His son who loved fully, with eyes wide open. how i want to love like Him! and that is something worth getting excited about.

sayonara guitar

i learned to play guitar in college from my buddy mark, a music theory/composition major. the allure and enthralling of the guitar drew me in instantly. the attempt to grow callouses on my fingers did not. and so i took my cue from a line in bryan adams' prolific song about "playing until his fingers bled in the summer of '69." they never bled, but they burned.

it has also been an epic war- the instrument of choice (piano then guitar) VS. my fingernails. they grow very quickly, sneakily. i remember mrs. johnston and her numerous cats that would circle around the piano as she would slip snacks into her mouth during my practice sessions at her house. my last session with her involved her cat "bunny" in my lap, as she refused to let me "scratch her baby grand" and wouldn't let me play until i had cut my fingernails. they won that day. the instrument lost.

so when guitar came up as an enticement in college, i asked my dad if i could borrow his, just in case i changed my mind about it, then i wouldn't feel guilty if it went neglected. during that particularly robust season of my life, he gave it to me. and i in turn gave it to a homeless friend of mine named shawn, trying to make a living for himself on the streets since he wasn't dealing marijuana anymore and had gone clean. i wanted to support his choice and help him support himself. it was the right thing to do.

the other day, a few months ago, i looked at the guitar i bought in grad school, which had experienced many days of me getting the notes to sing vibrantly to God in worship. i crafted two songs during that period- one gone for now and the other forever etched in my memory. it sat against my wall looking forlorn, begging to be played. i never wanted to be one of those people for whom the guitar is decoration and that is what it had finally become.

thus my choice to part with it. it was time. it was the right thing to do. and before my first potential buyer came to take a peek at it, i played the strings which were a bit offtune. and i fell back into the lull that the guitar draws you into, akin to the zone a runner gets in that feels so satisfying, all of life in the standstill of a moment. i had my closure with my instrument and felt a bit of separation anxiety upon seeing it go, but it was the right thing to do. my fingernails, long and the color of a tahitian pearl gleamed in their victory.

mortality much

ashes to ashes and dust to dust...

we are fragile creatures, we humans.
how easily we cease to exist, truth be told. i think death is something many people are fearful of and by not talking about it think it might pass by, missing them and their families. a good friend of mine is a vegetarian. when i started inquiring beyond the primary questions of her vegetarianism, i unearthed that she is a vegetarian because she is scared of death.

to recognize our own mortality and our own death paves the way for recognizing and commissioning how to truly live.

have you noticed a lot of people say a person has "passed" - i wonder if it's easier to swallow that way, like a sugar coated pill with less of a bitter aftertaste? my good friend jason's father died unexpectedly a few weeks ago.just today we were talking about how his role inside his family has changed so quickly- how death affects a lot of unexpected little areas as well as the obvious gaping crater-sized hole in the family. comfort takes on so many forms: a cup of tea, a casserole, a stroke on the back, an all-encompassing embrace, and even maybe a word or two like "i'm sorry."

i have felt the ache of one less table setting where one had existed a year before at thanksgiving. i have been stung by the familiar silhouette that looks like it could be the departed, walking in the flesh, absurd hope rising up in my bloodstream, only to crash back into reality once they look me straight in the face and it's not him. i have struggled with thoughts of a long voyage that they will return from soon. if you love someone, you will know loss of them. but that doesn't diminish your love- it can give you the propensity to love more and more greatly, exponentially increasing by sharing the love previously reserved for one person, now with many. almost like the ultimate honor to the deceased is to share that love with countless others that need to hear it, feel it, walk in it and breathe the everlasting life in it.

i am training to walk 20 miles to raise money for suicide prevention because of a still recent death that impacted my life late last year. we will walk from 7 p.m. until 4:30 a.m. in july to bring "shameful" issues like depression, mental illness and suicide out of the darkness and into the light. depression affects 20 million people in the United States and yet is one of the most treatable mood disorders. in working with the homeless for now almost seven years, i have seen and loved many people afflicted with depression, contemplating suicide.

a week before thanksgiving last year, my friend todd killed himself. we met at the living room coffeehouse drop-in center for homeless street kids many years ago. he was a christ-believing guy with a great ability to love and draw out the best in those around him. shock and outrage and confusion and deep sadness punctuated those days surrounding his death. they were catalysts for various poems that fought their way out of me, written on todd's behalf. for me, this walk is a chance to do something about helping others perhaps make a different choice who are struggling like he did towards the end, as well as honor his life and friendship and inimitable spirit.

if you would be interested in donating to the walk, please leave a comment and i will send you a fundraising letter.

i really think we could embrace life more fully if we allowed ourselves the truth that one day we too will die. imagine how differently life would look for each of us if we thought our days were numbered. how would it look different for you?

decadent day

the mission: to walk 6 miles. (in a future blog i will explain my new obsession-cum-preparation of walking).

the plan: meet michelle and walk to the ferry building in the embarcadero.

the route: from my house through the presidio, then crissy field and the marina, hitting fisherman's wharf, lastly encountering the ferry building.

some highlights of the 6 miles-turned-8 miles walk:
-- wild blackberries growing along the edge of a truly wooded area in the city of san francisco.

-- a guy approached us at crissy field offering us free leashes (even after we both explained we didn't have dogs).

-- encountering a route by fort mason that transported me back to monaco and the postcard-picturesque quality of the road, the placid turquoise water below.

-- passing the starting line for the "escape from alcatraz" triathlon.

-- a brick and tile competition in fisherman's wharf, where craftsmen created tile chessboards or brick grills for the win.

-- saluting the "bush man" who seemed to be coming off a break with a hearty word of gratitude that he was still "doing his thing."

-- poetry etched into brass plaques on the ground en route to the embarcadero.

-- organic summer fruits like peaches and berries, ripe to be sold by the farmers who had brought them to the farmers' market; beefsteak tomatoes for grilling later in the night. yum!

-- sitting in a park licking away at the dribbles of valrhona chocolate gelato on my cone, while talking to good friend michelle as we bask in the balmy breeze and sunshine so atypical to a usual san francisco summer.

-- this evening, we watch the movie "mrs. doubtfire" on a large blow-up screen in washington square park with a hundred other neighbors/strangers, all laughing at key moments, all applauding when our beautiful city takes center stage in the movie.

a truly decadent day.