o what a rainy season

fourth day of Spring, 50º and very, very wet.

dashing between the rainshowers...

Spring is here!

confession

I did something terrible.

Driving to and from work in San Francisco, there are - inevitably - people begging in the street. Not on the street. In the street. At large intersections, men (it's almost always men) wander between the lanes of cars, holding signs, endangering themselves and others when the light changes and the traffic moves. It's not legal - there are laws against panhandling in traffic because it's so dangerous. But it is pathetic.

I still haven't figured out what to do about the hungry people who intersect with my life. I am so fortunate. We are so fortunate. There is nothing, nothing so special about us that entitles us to be free from hunger while others are not. It is good to be grateful for our blessings, to pray for those who do not seem to be equally blessed, and to work for the betterment of others. I need to work on that third part.

The other day I was driving home, and I had a snack in the car. Munching away, I approached the corner of Market and Gough, and there he was: the guy with the shopping cart. He is often on that same corner when I'm on my way home from work. When the light turns red, he walks up the row of cars with his sign, hoping for a handout. (He, unlike his brethren at Mission and Van Ness in the morning, stays on the sidewalk.) I knew he was there, but I did not look. In fact (and this, to me, is the shameful part) I put my hand up to my temple, as if I was shielding myself from the sun, hiding from him. It was not the sun that was blinding: it was his pain. I had food right next to me, but I gave him nothing. I pretended that he had not touched my heart. I pretended as if it didn't matter. I pretended that he didn't matter, and I drove away.

When I returned home, I took the leftovers of an inedible casserole flop I'd made a few days before, and I dumped it down the garbage disposal. More food wasted. More food that will feed no one who needs to be fed.

O, the disgrace.

Lord have mercy.

brilliant

Spent some time on my day off Thursday with my sister. The evening before, with a dear friend whose calling seems to be listening intently. Apparently, all is not lost, even in this dry land.When it rains in the dessert, miracles can happen.

unfocused

Unfocused am I, that's for dang sure. Whether it's organizing my day at home, figuring out relationships at work, keeping any semblance of a spiritual life, managing money, seeing to eating good foods and getting exercise - none of it is exactly honed in.

And yet - the faithful part of me adds - there is beauty in there. Underneath the fuzzy lack of clarity, sheer beauty.

tulip and stock "leftovers" from a Sunday arrangement

Must. Focus.

love, KQ

Lenten journeys

I like keeping a page-a-day calendar in the kitchen. It's fun to tear off that page, read the new day's message - it's kind of a ritual. I usually get Mary Engelbriet's calender, and it is always a comforting, wise and/or cute way to start the day. This year I thought I'd try something different. I bought one with a pretty photo and a scripture passage on each page. Well, the scripture is in tiny white lettering on a light green background - wait, let me get my glasses - ha! And the photos... well, they're pretty, all right. But into the second week of January, I caught on to something. (Hey, wait a minute...) Every photo was of a path. Or a road. Or a trail. Or a road. Every stinking picture was a metaphor for "journey". 300+ photos of the same thing? That's a little too much for me!

There are so many "journey" metaphors for Lent. I'm not going to list them here - not that I could possibly undertake such a task. Like all travelers, sometimes we need a little help along the way. I posted on Facebook last week a request for on-line or podcast Lenten reflections. (I was actually hoping for podcasts, as that would have worked well into my resolve to start walking for excercise again. Alas, I've yet to hear of or find one.)

I got two suggestions, and actually found a third. One of the suggestions - forgive me, Crickl - just seemed more complex than I could manage this time around. But this one is working for me. And this one intrigues me. Plus, there's always this (good year-round, actually).

a journey of opening...

love, KQ

oh, there you are.

Poor, little neglected blog.

I guess I just haven't felt much like writing these days. Work has been brutal - literally - and it takes a few hours and all of my energy to recover from each day's ordeal. Not fun.

Still, though. I don't mean to abandon this, so I've come up with an idea. For Lent*, I'll just post a pretty picture. Hopefully, one you've not seen before. Maybe a few words, but at least a photograph. Here's the first one:

beautiful, fragrant paperwhites in my garden

*yes, I realize that we are already a week into Lent. Shh.

love, KQ