23 psalm. 23 prayer.

your beauty and kindness chase me down.

shadowy darkness grabs at my heels

but i can look it in the eye

because you're right beside me.

Like a good shepherd you bring me

comfort; keeping me close

with hateful eyes looking on-

you serve a banquet meal.

My hair is drenched with your oil blessing

your fragrance treads before my every step.

This cup i hold-

brimming

spilling over with uncontainables

joy, love, peace.

with every step more spills over the rim.

your beauty and embrace

they chase me down.

collapse my unsteady stance

and fling wide the hinges

that lead to your house

where i'd like to stay...

forever.

amen.

26. another year of conspiracy.

well, alot worth recalling in the last few weeks. a trip to darjeeling, a break to the sea, a tropical depression---aka: entirely too much water sitting around kolkata streets... and i jumped the hill past a quarter of a century. thats right folks, last weds i turned 26. officially.

and that, i believe is where i must start because "the journey through a birthday-a tribute to beth's big 26" is far overdue. words could do no justice.

my room mates know me and my obsession with conspiracies FAR too well i'm afraid.

because last weds morning, before my alarm could shake me from sleep at 6 am, i rolled over to hear the soundtrack from Alias blowing through my door with Sarah and Kristin watching from the door. (if you don't know the Alias addiction personally--let me just say it's only the greatest conspiracy show ever...doesn't get any better than girl power double agents-and honestly the best part is all the costume changes she has)

so throughout the day they had me carrying around a backpack full of random "disguises" and had me meeting "special agents" throughout the day to recieve my new locations and assignments. it was so creative, thoughtful, hilarious.

on no other birthday have i worn a sari, rode a motorcycle all across Kolkata, gotten a pedicure, and walked down the busiest market in kolkata wearing sparkly bouncing ball headbands...hmmm. here's some pictures to better describe my day.

oh and it ended with a beautifully calm night of friends and chips and salsa and walking into my newly re arranged room, norah jones singing in the background, to find a lovely new table which i just absoletely adore.

and so it begins...

hidden behind our super spy glasses we headed to breakfast and yes, we're in a rickshaw.

after leaving me at breakfast with my journal and sufjan i was instructed by a man, yes an indian man...wearing a full burka...to put on this orange number. our friend avishek pulled off the best outfit of the day when he waltzed in wearing a black burka and speaking in a middle eastern accent...for those of you not knowing the burka...yes, this is what he wore.then away i wisked to sari bari to celebrate with the ladies, as they

dressed me in a flash sari and we enjoyed cake and cold drinks together (aka:pepsi)

as you can imagine, when i reached in my bag to pull these beauties out,

all i could muster was, you've got to be kidding me. nope, it was my next disguise, oddly enough, don't you think i resemble Upendra...must be the stache.

with my special spy glasses firmly in place i got to hop on our friend

julian's motorcycle, and take a ride around the city. i'm not even kidding,

my dream come true, just me and the open road on the back of a bike. (picture to come)

well, about as open as kolkata streets in mid afternoon traffic can be...but hey, i was on a bike.

so in a nutshell that was my day. i'll find a few more pictures to piece the final bits of the story together, but really i just end by saying i felt loved and cared for and thought of all day. what amazing folks i get to call friends here in kolkata. and i didn't even think about turning yet another year older.

amazing. in a city of 18 million. 36 million hands...feet...little eyes peaking out. that one can sometimes still feel alone. space is relative i suppose. missing you all. missing home.
just thought i'd offer a moment of transparency.
and now. off to bed.
goodnight.

back into the mist.

just arrived into the beautifully misty streets of darjeeling for a weekend retreat with my team. what a lovely time its been. cool weather that leaves me aching for a fireplace and another mug of hot coffee or minty hot chocolate (like my mom has at home). this magical mysterious place where worlds collide. white faces trailing along asia searching for a taste of adventure or the way back to themselves...or both.
lovely old nepali faced men wearing their tweade-eske jackets and leaning on their wooden canes that pully them up the hills to their homes. i wander at the people. enjoy the creases in their smiles. and watch as they descend past the nook and cranny breakfast house i found myself in this morning. sipping black coffee and rereading john. i wander and i think and i enjoy. silent moments in the mountains. as i myself try to rediscover who it is i am.
and as i help my team peer through the mist i hope we all discover a little bit more about community and how to love one another as we ourselves map our own trails of asia.

much love from the mountains.
i'll sip some tea in your honor today.

the cup.

i just led my team in their book discussion on henri nouwen's "Can You Drink the Cup".
which never fails to lead me into a beautiful conflict of emotions as i process exactly how excited i am to drink the cup of Christ's reflection and calling....and by excited i often mean terrified, resistant, doubtful...and ready.
i had them write and share their thoughts on "what is my cup here in kolkata..." and so, i also share with you my own thoughts, staring into my own haunting cup full of joy and sorrow.
love.
it covers a multitude.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pour me another glass of wine, please.
Somedays I’d rather be drunk.
And blur the lines
stumble off to lay aside, plastered reality.
Somedays I’d rather be drunk.
If I’d forget what I know…

This cup of mine.
My familiar friend.
As always, I see its call.
I hold it lovingly, grip in disdain, peer to see the bottom.
Because I know the call of love
And it doesn’t end when comfort concludes.
So again, my cup is asking me…
Who is more important than yourself?

Then go.
And love. And pursue.
And lay down.
Wrap around your cup, and lay down.

May we be revived. Unveiled. Discover ourselves to be a reflection of our Savior.
And to learn how to receive-in the midst of crumbling strength-exposed weakness-and demanding needs. May we look down and see our pleading open palms and recognize communion with Jesus.

Cheers to you all.
My friends.
With cup in hand, let’s lay down.

when we meet...

Oh to meet our selves...

she belches-and i look away, embarrassed to have noticed such an open-private conversation. she's always been too busy to savor what was meant to taste.
i shudder for a second, realizing "she" is me. i prop my elbows on the table, dizzy from the understated truth. understanding i've got a lot more to learn about when to excuse oneself from airy dinnertime chatter.
i need to find my self a mirror.

she wonders alongside me. greets me at the looking glass. points to the blemishes i already know exist. i look away. and in her silent presence she guarantees me a slower transformation than i'm willing to accept. she shakes my hand in a promise that will be hard to shake away.
transformation fights a hard battle through and through.

i open a window, making it easier to breathe up the world. swallowing the sounds that orchistrate the the sea below. i wonder. and i look. and i think. about the world in my lungs and those below my feet. how do i forget myself?
i think of folks i love. and those yet to come.
i lock the shutters and leave the rain to do its job.

the places i find me.
on my knees scrubbing at the bathroom floor on a wonderfully sunny saturday morning.
full of wonder at the coolness of night on such a summery date on the back lawn, the scent of cut grass filling space between thoughts.
long runs. early in the morning, waking with the cooking fires to start the day off right.

in transition through our days-through our years-through our lives.
we wonder yet again.
and again.
and again.
back to our mirrors. back to our reflections. back to the whisper who waits to tell us who we are.

"oh hello, my name's beth. if i do recall, we met at dinner one night. you might not recognize me. it was quite a long while ago. i've lost some weight since then."
i've forgotten what you look you like
myself.

an ode.

here in india i like to recite a little saying when the men of this city can't seem to tear their eyes away from us...

"sometimes you cannot dim a shining star"

and yes, what better way to follow this random piece of Kolkata trivia than to share with you a small treasure, i like to call it

"ode to the undimming shining stars...kolkata style".

enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT5_l0AISmQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdiWdz6cPm0