you know those kernels of corn that are left at the bottom of the popcorn popper after all the rest have popped? those 7 kernels that swirl around and around and around and are still circling aimlessly hours after the other 335 have jumped from the popper and made their home in the bowl awaiting outside? i've always felt sorry for them. i remember watching them spin as a kid, always hoping that one more would make it out before dad flipped the switch. i still leave the popper on minutes after i know it's a hopeless case, wishing to be proven wrong by that "POP" of one more kernel.

i mean, who wants to remain a tiny brown kernel when they could turn into beautiful white fluffiness? i don't know firsthand, since i've never been or even talked to a popcorn kernel, but i'm pretty sure that sitting at the bottom of a popper time after time until someone decides to empty it into the garbage isn't every popcorn kernel's dream. when it is finally their turn to leave the mound of other kernels to actually enter the popper, i imagine they expect great things. and after making it in, they spin with everyone else -as fast as they can, waiting for the second they will make their great jump into the bowl. how disappointing it must be for those who never make it?? they must feel like something's wrong with them. that they didn't try hard enough. that their chance to shine (in this case, pop) is gone.

ok, i think i've taken this far enough. now you know the thoughts that wander through my head while i'm making a snack to go with my movie. until next time's deep thoughts involving food -i'm signing out.

don't surrender your loneliness
so quickly.
let it cut more deep.

let it ferment and season you
as few human
or divine ingredients can.

something missing in my heart tonight
has made my eyes so soft,
my voice
so tender,

my need of God
absolutely
clear.

(shams-al-din hafiz, 12th c. persian poet)

there is much missing from my heart these days. elizabeth's hugs. jayne's faces. lucia's singing. mcdonalds in the morning on the way to an adventure. elizabeth tickling me. dancing with penguin class. singing "bye bye see you tomorrow." reading on elizabeth's bed. asking, "what day is it today?" dinner and cards at jayne's flat. elizabeth's voice. movies on don't go. jayne's cuddles. catch phrase. peanut butter cookies. ediya coffee on fridays. etc. etc.

there is also much that helps to fill in those holes. dutch blitz with my sisters. cribbage with rach. soren's singing. reading books to haddon. meeting nate's girlfriend. mom's amazing cooking. dad's insights. uno with ben. editing kaleb's papers. "hammock talks" with rach. singing and cuddling with my sisters. piano playing. my own bed. vanilla lattes with poppa chuck. rock band with the girls. etc. etc.

but the holes are still there. i sit here on my comfy bed in a house full of love and warmth and still miss the hard beds and heated floors of korea. i don't enjoy loneliness. but i want to be soft, tender, deep, in my need for God and people. toward that end, perhaps i'm in a good place. right now it feels a bit like i'm putting on band aid after band aid in vain trying to stop gushing blood. i know the holes will eventually get smaller. and smaller. but here's the thing -part of me doesn't want them to. what do i do with that?