Just a little bit of fun I've been having in my Creative Writing course- thought I'd share this story with you. A little mystical and exaggerated, but writing it was a good time.


The Shallow End

The sparkling water of the Rhuidean swirled with glee as each droplet raced to the tune of the never- tiring current. The mist of the morning clung to each bright leaf that sprang from the shrubs lining the river bank, where dew gathered, slipped, and slid as one to the joyful clamor of the stream below. The very air itself held the music of the water, and the birds, gently woken by the enchanting melody, eagerly chirped along. The tune emanating from the Rhuidean forced the world to wake. Willing or not, the creatures were compelled to respond, unable to ignore the charms of the enchanted stream. Even the stones edged closer, to catch a glimpse of distant relatives sunk low beneath the surface, though careful not to get too close. For every stick and stone, fish and bird, even the wisps of wind knew of the spell cast by the Rhuidean-and the treachery therein.

A young man emerged, and the sweet song being spun by the river changed tune. The beat quickened, matching the hurried pace of his pulsing heart. His handsome face altered into that of smug pride; he had found the river. The legendary Rhuidean. He had declared to his future bride that he would not wed her until she possessed the greatest gift. Thus he had traveled for days in search of the mystic river, and had it not been for the clamor of the birds and his curiosity, he may have missed the small oasis entirely. The chant of the river could not reach his human ears, but the beauty of the songbirds provided a pale reflection of the watery composition.

His task was to take from the river enough water to fill a bowl, and present it to his love. In washing her face with the magical water, her skin would become white as snow, her eyes would sparkle like emeralds, her lips as red as rubies. She would be beautiful, and her beauty would last forever. What better gift to present to a young maiden, his young maiden than the gift of never ending beauty? Suddenly, an unnerving thought crossed his mind as he envisioned his goddess passing through time unmarked by age. He would not be exempt from such ugliness. She would blossom eternally and he would inevitably wither and die! With a cry the young man leaped to the river’s edge, and plunged his head into the water.

The chords of a thousand different voices filled and flooded his ears as the cunning water held him captive. He squeezed his eyes shut and in terror tried to tune out the chant that had united in song against him. The chaotic noise grew louder, more urgent though every creature was silent. The rhythmic beat pounded out three syllables in urgent succession. Still the young man could not withdraw his head from the Rhuidean’s watery grip. Straining to be free, he was struck by the three syllable word caught in the current. Van-i-ty, van-i-ty, van-i-ty. With sudden clarity, the words came softly-

Forever young thou wish to be-
(solely fish can hear our melody),
Where you now tread is shallow ground,
and cursed be you, for you have found,
a lovely maiden’s gentle wit
does not suffice your appetite.

Vanity of vanity
Your lot is cast into the sea

In this shallow pool you shall remain
Until the new moon shines again,
But be forewarned; your foolish thought
Has left you nothing, nor has brought
You any nearer your true desire.
But with these words you can retire;
Beneath the surface, beauty lies
Mere looks are feigning alibis.

Convinced he must soon be on the verge of death, held by force, the man struggled in vain to rise up. Instinctively he gasped for one final breath, expecting the vile water to fill and poison his lungs. But something was wrong. He was breathing- under water. Was he dead? In a panic he lurched forward, sliding with ease through the slippery water.
A fin propelled him and gills sustained him. As the horrible realization began to sink in, the words of the river softly came back to him… ‘solely fish can hear our melody…’
Again the river resumed its tune. The creatures stirred from their silence, and echoed their response. The law of the Rhuidean was mysterious- both a blessing and a curse- but let it never be said the river was unjust. For those who come seeking will find what they deserve.

There are a lot of things I could say about this past week. There are a lot of things I won't. It's hard to sum up a week of change. I can't figure out if it was less work, or more work. Nine hours of mindless physical labour, or odd hours of mental strain and silly mind games. I was hoping for a smooth, relatively painless transition from summer to school, work to books, family to friends. I am not sure what happened, but it wasn't smooth. It's like I got on the ugly, delapitated wooden rollercoaster in the far corner of the theme park that nobody wants to go on because it sucks. Your body gets battered with each turn, your neck kinks, teeth clack, stomach churns- when all I really wanted was to get on the fricken Superman. Now that's a good time. That's a smooth and thrilling ride. But, such is life. Anticipation doesn't always deliver. The week was tough, but speckled with joy nonetheless. My friends are quality. Our house is joyful, full of natural sunlight, and delightful girls. The other night Trine and I slept on the lawn just for the heck of it. Even though she wimped out and went in at 4, and I woke up at 7 unable to move my neck, these are the kinds of things you just don't do on your own. Lizzy and I spent Saturday night letting loose at the decade dance, which was followed by a few hours at Tim Hortan's discussing some of the finer points of life. Saturday I played in two soccer games. A great way to build friendships with team players, flat out run yourself into the ground, and also pull a lot of tender leg muscles. The weekend was a great wake up call to the fact that as much as I like the team, it's the sport that counts, and I don't like it. Haha..and so I must quit, yay for free nights!
Now it's the beginning of a new week, and I'm feeling that things are looking up in the world.
Readjusting isn't really all that bad.

Trolls and Tables

If there is one thing I can't stand, it's regret. It's hideous. Picture a troll, with pink hair and a gargoyle face, camping under a bridge and eating innocent goats. That is regret. The best way to avoid the troll is to avoid the bridge that harbors the troll, but if you are oblivious to the danger under the bridge, you will unknowingly attempt to cross it and get eaten- because as we all know, and in keeping with my little analogy, regret eats you up.

I had 4 precious months of TIME. Time to read, work, go out for coffee, camp out under the stars, study the catechism, stay active, visit my grandparents, visit my friends, and stay on top of my academic game. My time is almost up, and I wish I had done a lot more of everything. I definitely didn't read enough.

I realize that's a pretty pathetic list for such an extreme analogy, rather mild regrets, but they are regrets nonetheless. The thing about these regrets is that you can't do a thing to change the fact that you were just too lazy to 'get 'er done'. Time doesn't go backwards. How I've used my time was my call, a conscious decision, and now I have to live with it. Now I have to share my space with an ugly mutant with pink hair until I can figure out a way to get past him.... oh man.

On a different note, the minister this afternoon stated that allowing your child to partake of Lord's Supper would be like feeding your infant poison. He was quoting John Calvin. I know the URC is pro guarding the Lord's table, but let's think about this. Both sacraments are intended to be used by God's covenant children in an effort to draw together the body of believers in the name of Christ. Baptism is a sign of the washing away of our sins, and God's faithfulness to his children. The Lord's Supper is meant to be a reminder and celebration of Christ's death and resurrection- enabling us to have eternal life. I would like to know how the church is able to discern who can and cannot partake. Considering that the Lord's Supper has replaced the Old Testament celebration of the Passover, I am inclined to believe that similarly, it should be the job of the parents to educate and prepare their child for the table as was the custom in those days. My concern with the URC in this respect is that there is a danger of testing the genuity of one's faith by some sort of knowledge gage. We learn at home and church, take catechism classes, profess our faith, and thereby gain access to the Table. If this is the case, what did Christ mean when He said, " Let the little children come to me" and when the disciples tried to prevent it, He reprimanded them saying, " and do not hinder them!". Children are not stupid. They understand. They too are a part of the covenant kingdom! Oy.... sometimes I think we lose focus. To carry such reasoning to its full extent would most likely exclude a lot of people from communion. It just doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm a heretic. Maybe I should just go and fight that stupid troll.

Brothers

Mike, Matt, myself. The permanent seating arrangement at the back of the van because Megan gets car sick, Dave likes to sit by Megan, and of course mom gets shot gun. I don't know what it is about my two little gremlin brothers, but man, they make me laugh. They think they've mastered the Texan drawal, and so everything that comes out of their mouth sounds ridiculous. Example ( quoting something they heard on the radio)
"Tell your Unkie what you learned at that there fancy university"
"Pie a' square'
"Noo you duumb shit. Everyone knows that pie a' round. Cornbread a' square"
Then they will laugh hysterically- and say it all again- and by the 10th time, it does get pretty funny. ( I suppose it's something you have to hear for yourself, accent and all)

Last night we slept at Dave's house. There is one bed- and my parents got it.
Megan and I slept on the carpet upstairs, the boys shared one blanket downstairs, and then Mike took off and slept in the van. He is probobly roasting. I had the kind of sheet that is fitted to go around every corner of a mattress. My shoulders and feet did the job, creating a nice cacoon that was comfortable for 2 hour intervals. It was good night.

Well, I have to go pack. In a couple hours I'll be flying out of here.

We woke up at 5:30 am, we hit the road by 6, and we were stuck at the border until 11:30. Ew. I blame this completely on my brother. We are moving him to Texas, and at the same time making a nice family vacation out of the trip. Knowing it would probobly take us 25-30 hours to get there, the fact that we were still in CANADA 5 1/2 hours into the trip was not exactly comforting. Dave forgot to pay a certain bill, which had to be paid before he could get into the States, and so we all became miserable.


"There once was a man with the most remarkable ability to paint. He could capture beauty in a brushstroke, with a keen awareness of the detailed imagery all around him. Then he went blind. His family was poor, and once he got old, they put him in a home. The place was ratty, unkempt, and contemptible to any functioning artisan in terms of aesthetic beauty. Upon arriving, his family tried to apologize for his sub-par surroundings. The old man faced the nurses with a smile and said, ' It's beautiful.' When asked how he could say that without seeing a thing, he said, ' I've already arranged the whole thing in my mind. It's perfect.' "



Undoubtedly my dad told us this in the hope that we would draw a connection between our situation and the blind guy. Life is a mind game? hmm... I think the point was that if you can't change something, pre-arrange it in your mind to just relax and enjoy yourself. Life is too short to let the little things bother you. Point taken. My brothers can be fairly entertaining, and so I must admit- the time at the border wasn't all that bad.

After about 2 days, we made it to Texas. The week here is flying by, and so far it has been fantastic. The weather is hot, but bearable, and we still manage to play some pretty competitive volleyball, tennis, mini-put, and the classic "beat eachother up in the pool" game, which never seems to get old. We keep ourselves entertained- it really doesn't take much.
I'm coming home on Saturday, but the family will be here/ Tenessee for another week. It's always nice to get out and travel some more, but there is always something nice about coming home, even if it will be a bit lonely...

I'll miss you Dave- but Christmas isn't that far away!

Bits and Pieces

Thanks Robyn- Here's a little something about myself

I like walking in barefeet at 7:15 am after it rains and the fields are really muddy

I like singing Celine Dion at the top of my lungs in the shower

I have learned to love bugs, and I'm not sure why, but when they land on me I really like it. I saved a worm today, and I poked open a spider sac and about 100 baby spiders popped out. So cool.

I like singing songs in Spanish Church

I have a huge and sometimes overwhelming desire to cut loose and become a gypsy- but only for a month or something... because I like it here too.

When I was in grade one a boy smushed me into the gym wall and shattered my collar bone.

I spent almost every Monday night for the first two years of highschool in detention. You may think this reflects poorly on me, assuming I was some sort of bad ass. Not true. A shirt infraction, or misplaced pencil could wind you up in the office. Needless to say, highschool- with all the sports, drama, classes and detentions, was a pretty rocking good time.

That's seven.

Angry sky

My friend Tamara is crazy. Not literally, but she likes to do a lot of crazy things, which is why we really get along. Today Jocelyn and I went to visit her. You'd think a married woman would be a little more toned down, but this is where Tamara is strikingly different. After a boat ride with her parents on the Grand River, where we purposely rushed into a storm, and then fled with the birds at the first sight of lightning, Tamara took us to go pier jumping. Now, it was kindof cold, rainy, windy, and I hear lake Erie has some pretty bad under tow. I had no desire to jump off a 35 foot pier into crashing waves. Usually when I have no desire to do something, I don't, but for some reason Tamara can hype up anyone to do anything- and so when she went sprinting off the pier, I was only about 2 seconds behind her. Wow, what a rush. After a few jumps, we went to the top of the pier where you can't swim because of all the rocks. Unbelievable. Set against the dark sky, billowing clouds, streaks of rain, and peeping bits of sunlight, the sheer power of the waves crashing below us was really something to see.. up close. My friend wisely stayed up top, while Tamara and I scooted down to get some waves. We weren't being stupid, just a little daring. Bracing ourselves against the rocks, we let the waves crash over us, into us, around us... which was followed by a lot of laughing, and a bit of a rush. After a while, Joc called for us to come back up, so we said one more wave- and of course, it happens to be the biggest one we've seen yet. I brace myself and just get smacked in the face by a lot of water, but when I looked beside me, Tamara was gone. For a split second I was terrified. I know it would have been impossible for her to have gotten completely swept off the rocks, but for some reason I thought she was gone, and it scared me. The wave had knocked her off her feet, and she landed on her back a few feet away. Well, that was the end of that adventure. After seeing she was allright, we climbed back up and laughed our heads off. I'm glad we are still in one piece... maybe there is a reason why I only see her a few times in the summer :) Anyways, tonight was a good night. Tomorrow my friend Kerri is coming for the weekend, so I'm pretty pumped about that. It'll be good to see my travelling buddy again after so many months!