I heard you the first time

RantWoman is basically a sun-worshipper. This time of year that tendency absolutely always causes her to wonder why she persists in living in Seattle. The time change has swallowed precious afternoon daylight and stuck RantWoman with daylight in the morning when her body thinks sleep would be desirable, a dislocation that no amoung of caffeine seems to be able to recalibrate.

In general, the interval between the fall time change and early January weighs on RantWoman's psyche like a giant rotting pumpkin, putrid, smelly and too darn heavy to move, even with the power of prayer. So far, these trials have not been more than RantWoman finally manages to bear, but if God asked, RantWoman would say, "don't push your luck."

This year, fall rains have come to Seattle unusually late. Often in RantWoman's past experience there have been weeks and weeks of fall rain, mist, moisture forever and ever without end amen. The leaves have come off the trees gradually in different phases but soon enough that one can actually find the streetlights by the time one needs them.

This year, not only are the storms late and the streetlights still badly obscured, the annual tempests are much more dramatic. The last couple days we have had just spectacular thunder, lightning, and the most wonderful cleansing cloudbursts. Unfortunately, the cloudbursts seem appallingly well correlated with times when RantWoman either must venture out or decides to brave the odds.

The thunderstorms are driving all the leaves off the different trees at once, in great piles that would be wonderful fun if one wanted to jump up and down and romp with small or large children. Piles of leaves are a lot harder to appreciate when one travels with Thwack the badly-behaved white cane, especially if one would like to go about nimbly, perhaps without the sensation that one is pushing the equivalent of a snow shovel full of soggy organic matter with Thwack's nose at every turn.

Yesterday RantWoman was aboard transit, warm and dry for the moment but still with more than enough emotional twitches to try for "shut up and pray." Immediately, almost before RantWoman had formulated the thought, the message came back "I heard you the first time." Yo, God, couldn't you at least manage "poor baby" or something?

Tomorrow is another Meeting for Business and those concerned with the aftermath of last month's Meeting for Business and the conflict between RantWoman and Dear Friend have been emailing and prodding back and forth. RantWoman means to extract some of her emails and to polish a couple half-baked items in the drafts section of the blog.

There IS conflict between RantWoman and Dear Friend. The core in a nutshell, sanitized for comfortable repetition version: RantWoman really, really, really needs to talk about her spiritual life with other people besides Dear Friend and RantWoman, frankly, speaking as plainly as she thinks she will be able to stand in public resents the hell out of Dear Friend's interventions because she experiences this as Dear Friend standing in the way of this. RantWoman thinks this is VERY bad personal boundaries and atrocious theology. RantWoman has a whole mess of other views about Dear Friend, sharing responsibilities with one's community and other things that unquestionably are unclear.

Every time RantWoman has to address the circumstances behind the Compost thread, she is reminded of this fact. However, RantWoman, Dear Friend and Nom Comm are all also clear that there is a problem with process. RantWoman is not sure that, if asked, we would all concur about the ways what process has previously been elaborated has broken down, but we are all clear that we need guidance and further Light from the rest of our community.

RantWoman and Dear Friend have duly set about the business of getting ourselves a clearness committee. Nom Comm, the Clerk, and, RantWoman supposes, the committee to which RantWoman was nominated but is not yet serving have set about trying to frame the issues that really, really, really are not just some weird freaky interpersonal thing between RantWoman and Dear Friend. RantWoman also notes that she has numerous other perspectives, to the point that if she cannot come to unity within her own views, she wonders what in heck it is reasonable to expect her Meeting to come to unity about either.

But for now, let us dump the links of the day,

a topical season of light and dark bit:
http://www.beenthinking.org/2009/11/07/let-there-be-light-and-darkness/

light and dark and natural grandeur on a grander and more problematic scale
http://blog.cheapmotelsandahotplate.org/2009/11/07/three-weeks-in-southern-utah-post-1-boulder-to-zion-national-park/

More cool stuff including some links RantWoman definitely means to check out from Gathering in Light
http://gatheringinlight.com/2009/11/06/an-old-mennonite-rendering-of-the-disciples-prayer/

And, finally, no, no, No, and HELL NO, dear RantMom. RantWoman is very grateful you are a cancer survivor. RantWoman deeply appreciates little electronic expressions of love and affection, even if they ARE SPAM, chain letters and relatives of vile internet vermin. NO, RantWoman is NOT going to contribute to the cancer of internet spam even for things like prayers to end cancer. Think of this as the internet equivalent of interferon or something, but NO, I will NOT forward it!