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Wednesday night we went out and saw "The King's Speech." It was a charming story of overcoming fear, with an interesting view of crossing class boundaries. Wallis, Duchess of Windsor, was portrayed briefly in the film, with just enough haughty arrogance to bring about disgust. Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon (The Queen Mum) was portrayed by Helena Bonham Carter, with great sympathy. The story itself, though, is about the friendship between Albert, King George VI, and his speech therapist, Lionel Logue. I think why i enjoyed it so much was because its theme of authentic transformation, fighting against fear.

It's inspired me to do reading in wikipedia about the people portrayed and the context of England just before WWII.

Last night, we went out for dinner at Chevy's, local Cal-Mex chain. Christine ordered a cranberry margarita for me, and it was, all in all, a festive dinner. Arriving early it was quiet enough to talk. By the time we left, the music and festivities of others were beginning to become a conversational barrier.

The movie and dinner stretched out our observation of our anniversary into a celebration of Christmas. I'm going to go find my wedding scrapbook, though. The details that have faded from my memory are impressive!

This morning i spent a long while in reflecting on some work the Oversight committee is doing. Some of the email was more general than the specific issue at hand:

...The questions raised in worship last Sunday seem connected: "Who is love and unity maintained among you?" and "Who is part of the Beloved Community?" Reflecting on those questions puts the brokenness of relationship [detail] in the context of the greater challenge of the continuous work at growing and healing.

I am aware of my own great longing to be well, to be whole, to be healed. Recently i found how hard it was to acknowledge a moment of feeling well and whole after the work trauma i felt this summer: how can i be well if there's still work dysfunction? I have to accept that being well and whole is transitory. And then i realized that even if i could find ways to make everything right in my world, the moment the opportunity came for growth, i would need to break open to accept the change. I believe this is one of the fundamental paradoxes of living in Grace, a paradox of Perfection, the paradox in Christian language of recognizing the Kingdom of God is at hand right now, yet still seeing the brokenness and suffering in the world. I find this understanding also in the writing of Buddhists, an acknowledgement of the pervasiveness of suffering while simultaneously acknowledging that is not What Is.

[detail]

My answer to the question of "Who is part of the Beloved Community?" is two fold: when the Beloved Community is beheld from the place of the Divine, it is a unity and an all. For each individual, however, our ability to experience the Beloved Community is shaped by our practice of openly meeting "that of God" in each person. The more clearly we are able to mutually practice that opening, the more we are able to mutually experience the expansiveness of that community. How do we respond when there is not mutuality?

First Xootr Ride

I lingered long abed as i sort six months of phone photos into work notes (whiteboard shots), general notes (photos of fabric, of store signs, of flyers), and photo-photos.

Yesterday i was able to re-sync Yojimbo, my new information organizer, and i'm back to being delighted with the workflow. On the other hand, i now have a bucket of "followup" items to sort through, with only a vague idea of relevancy.

Just now we made use of the sunshine to ride the Xootrs to the grocery store for more eggs. (Creme brulee! Pumpkin pie!) Sheesh. No such thing as free lunch. It's a bit of a workout. My heart was racing. I've worked up a sweat.

My oh my. Christine rode hers to the doctor, two and a half miles!!, on Wednesday. Then rode it back (and then walked to Google in the evening for a meeting). I'm pooped after this grocery excursion.

Walking has a certain rhythm, this has a rather different waltzy sort of rhythm: chug-chug-gliiiide, chug-chug-gliide. The glide is of many different lengths, though, and the physical rhythm is overwhelmed by the train-like rattle-rattle as the wheels hit the grooves in the sidewalk. I do like the quick dismount, the immediate transition from riding to walking that can occur, especially when there's a pedestrian.