A Writing Based on the 2nd Verse of Hallelujah - continuation

As the evening wears on the men start asking other woman from their circle of friends to dance. It has become a routine and expected part of their get-togethers. Now, everyone is getting up and dancing with each others’ spouses as she waits patiently for him to ask her to dance. Maybe it just isn’t going to happen tonight, she thinks. Suddenly she notices that they are the only two people left sitting at the table. “Would you like to dance? he asks and she nods her head affirmatively as she rises from her chair. He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor and in a moment they are in each other’s arms, as they begin to move to the slow, soothing rhythm of an old-fashioned, nostalgic sixties melody. As they are dancing they start to move slower and slower until they are barely moving at all. Gradually, without even realizing what is happening, she becomes mesmerized. Then, all of a sudden, she becomes conscious of the fact that they are strangely insulated and alone in a sphere, transfixed in an impenetrable bubble as the mob of couples move silently around them. Everything has gone mute; they are completely alone in the midst of the crowd. She is spellbound and transported from this world into a completely different dimension. Being in this place – this other world – is weird, extraordinary and surprising powerful. The song ends and somehow they pull themselves apart. After all, to do otherwise would appear totally inappropriate and scandalous. As she walks back to her chair she feels physically shaken and weak. It is at that very moment that it hits her; she is in trouble, deep, deep trouble. Oh, my God! she utters to herself, what am I doing?

It was obvious to her that this temptation was Herculean. The intensity was pulling her under and swallowing her up like the undertow and storm waves of her childhood days on the beach. It was also obvious that she was in love with this man.

What should she do? What could she do? What did she do?

In desperation and heartache, she prayed. Dear God, help me!

Then, filled with fear and barely able to get the words out of her mouth – truly, how does one share such monstrous thoughts and unspeakable feelings - she shared her plight with her beloved Minister.

My husband is a wonderful guy and I love him dearly, she said. But, I love this man, also. I really love him too.

And what was his response? He could easily have laughed. Many people would have laughed, don’t you think? Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t possibly love two men at the same time?

But he didn’t laugh.

So if he didn’t laugh, what did he do? Did he reprimand her, reproach her, condemn her? Did he say, you must never see this man again. You must put him out of your life forever.

No, this Minister was wise and the Spirit of God was with him and his counsel was true.

What did he say that saved her from her greatest temptation? What advice did he give? Did he tell her what she must do?

He said simply and clearly and lovingly, when you truly love someone, you would never do anything to hurt them.

And that was all he needed to say.

Aren't Children Marvelous to Watch?

Just wanted to share this photo. I took the picture on March 18th in Spring Lake, NJ. I don't know who this child is but it gave me so much pleasure to watch him and his siblings play in the surf of the mighty Atlantic. Currently I am reading a book entitled, "The Holy Longing" by Ronald Rolheiser and I would like to share a quote from it pertaining to children. ( By the way I highly recommend this author. He writes on the subject of spirituality in a beautiful, human way.
" Delight is rare for adults, though not for children. If you want to see what delight looks like, go by any school yard sometime when kids. little kids, kindergartners and first graders, come out for their recess break. They simply run around and shriek. Now that's delight. This, the spontaneous response to the goodness and beauty of life, not the commercialized tapes of someone expounding the merist of positive thinking, is what non-depression sounds like. When you see a child in a high chair, just fed, shouting and throwing Jell-O and mashed potatoes around the room, you are party to delight - and you are also party to something that, outside of children, is exceedingly rare. In Western culture, the joyous shouting of children often irritates us because it interferes with our depression. That is why we have invented a term, hyperactivity, so that we can, in good conscience, sedate the spontaneous joy in many of our children."

A Writing Based on the 2nd Verse of Hallelujah

Mary Beth Buchner 2^nd part of Essay 4

Advanced Writing 4-5-11

Based on my Reflections on the Song entitled, Hallelujah, lyrics written by Leonard Cohen and sung by Jeff Buckley

Lyrics – Second Verse

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah

I was told by a number of people that possibly the first part of this verse describes David’s temptation with Bethsheba and the second part relates to Samson and Delilah.

Both these biblical stories deal with such topics as love, lust, obsession, desire, beauty, fighting temptation, succumbing to temptation, power, falling from grace and redemption.

At age 66 I have to come to see that all human beings struggle with these above mentioned things. When I was young I saw things more dogmatically - in black and white – but as I aged and experienced many things on a more personal level, I realized that there are a lot more gray areas and there is a great need for forgiveness and redemption for myself and for others.

So here is a little “story” related to Verse 2 of Hallelujah.

Please note: This essay is a work of fiction and therefore characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Temptations are everywhere. This one started on a night that is typically very festive, New Year’s Eve. She was dressed in a short, clingy silver sheath, one that was completely covered in sparkling sequence that glistened and dazzled as she entered the room. The lights were already muted and candles were glowing on each elegantly set circular table, creating a soft, subtle, sensuous atmosphere in the room. The bar was open and glamorously dressed couples were already standing around in small groups talking and laughing, while they sipped their cocktails and periodically, inconspicuously moved their heads from side to side searching for their friends among the arriving guests. After checking her coat and walking towards some familiar faces, she could feel the energy and she knew immediately she was much too geared up for excitement. She was teetering on the brink and this could easily be the wind that sent her over the edge. She was bored by the mundane predictable existence of a stay-at-home wife and mother. Being intelligent, well educated, middle aged and comfortably married with nothing more stimulating in her life than changing diapers, cleaning toilets and babbling to babies, she had just walked into a set-up for disaster. She knew he was going to be there, he was one of their circle of friends, albeit to her, the most important link in the circle. It gave the entire evening so much more meaning and it changed almost everything about her. Earlier in the evening as she looked into her bathroom mirror, she took great pains applying her make-up, making certain that every single aspect was as perfect as she could make it. Her hair had to be perfect also; the tiniest flaw and she would re-wash and style it over again. No, this was not the time to being experiencing “a bad hair day”. Picking the dress was another obsessive endeavor. It had to be form-fitting and sexy, because even at 38, her figure was still rather impressive and one of her best features.

A cocktail, then two allowed any of her remaining inhibitions to flow swiftly behind her. Now the meal was being served and it was time for her to choose a seat at the groups’ table. Wait until he sits, she thinks and she stalls for a minute so she can see where he will be seated. Then she stops again briefly as she wonders, will it be better to sit where our eyes can meet or where our arms and legs might touch? The table is filling up quickly so she hurriedly sits in the vacant seat directly across from him. Their eyes meet momentarily and she knows that he knows; it is obvious that he feels the electricity too.

How can I feel this way about him? she thinks, I’m a married woman. I’m married to a wonderful man, and he is married to my dear friend?

Surprisingly this doesn’t seem to lessen her feelings. If anything, it seems to make them all the more intense and exciting. How could this be happening? Adultery has always been such an ugly word; something she thought she would never, ever consider even in her wildest dreams.

But then again, temptation is an interesting thing, isn’t it? It doesn’t present itself in an ugly way, because no one would be attracted, would they? Rather, temptation gets “all dolled up” and makes itself look very inviting and oh so pretty.

Dinner is relatively uneventful and passes quickly. Nonetheless, the sexual tension continues to mount as she herself being pulled by a massive magnet every time their eyes meet across the table.

The efficient wait staff swiftly clears the dishes from the table as the lights are turned down low and the band begins to play. All at once the room is filled with couples, arms wrapped tightly around each other, swaying to the soft and romantic first dance of the evening. In unison all the married couples from our group jump up to join them on the crowded dance floor.

To be continued…..

A Class Reading

This week in class we were assigned a short reading - an article (dated January 1933) by Helen Keller that appeared in The Atlantic Monthly entitled, Three Days to See. It was a very moving article and it actually had me in tears at one point. I don't know how a person who was blind and deaf since before she was two years old could have attained such heights and such marvelous insights about life. Reading this short article has really peaked my interest and I now want to read her autobiography, The Story of My Life. I have seen the movie, The Miracle Worker, which is based on her book but I don't remember ever having read her autobiography. I was surprised to hear that Helen Keller lived in Forest Hills, a stone's throw from where I grew up.
Anyway, before retiring for the night, I would like to share a couple of sentences from the reading:

• "If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in "How to Use your Eyes". The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would awake their dormant and sluggish facilities."
  

• "..... set your mind to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?"

Good Night and God Bless, Mary Beth

NYC St. Patrick's Day 2011

So we marched and the day was great. What a thrill it was. The best moment for me was when one of the spectators shouted out to us, "bring back St. Vincent's!" I thought "from his lips to God's ears. Wouldn't it be wonderful! "
Mary Beth

Unexpected Pleasures - A Writing Exercise Part 2

Temporarily my mind returns to the present and once again I am back in the produce isle at The Fresh Market. I have already decided that there will be nothing ordinary for me this particular day, so I purposely look for and eventually pick out another foreign–looking vegetable. As I examine my second choice from all angles, I can’t help but pick up a feminine vibe. I move this item, labeled a tomatillo, gently around in my hand and notice it is light green, “cute” and round with a protective parchment-like outer covering. Isn’t she sweet?, I think to myself as I wander back into my fantasy world.

I’m young and very naïve. At the time I’m in my senior year at an all-girls Academy run by a bunch of exceedingly up-tight, semi-cloistered nuns. Everything is rigid and well-defined; we don’t dare deviate from the prescribed rules or cross any of the lines that have been drawn in the sand. It has been thoroughly ingrained that even the slightest slip off this very narrow path could lead us on the road to eternal damnation.

My virginal body and unsoiled mind is being preserved by a covering of sorts. The tree-like branches of my overpowering pre-Vatican II Church, my overwhelming all-girls Catholic Academy High School and my over-protective, sheltering family have grown up all around me. This thick vine crawls up in all directions encasing and guarding me, keeping me shiny, new and unblemished.

In a way it feels good to be preserved in parchment like this. I’m the good girl, high on a pedestal, something to be admired, a beacon for all. But my admirers in the outside world don’t yet know what lies inside. In fact, I, don’t really know what lies inside. You see, I’ve been so well hidden that even I can’t find the real me. Who is this person so carefully enshrined in all this parchment?

I start to feel like I’m constricted and suffocating. I have an overwhelming urge to venture out; I need to discover what lies within. I need some danger, I need to live.

Although I don’t have an organized plan; I have an overwhelming feeling - a feeling so strong and an energy so powerful that it simply begins to move on its own. Possibly it was the Danger sign that attracted me; possibly it was the sensuousness of the hot, steamy, summer afternoon; possibly it was the excitement of being offered a forbidden fruit. Maybe I was ready, ripe for the picking, tired of balancing myself up on that pedestal for so long.

Lyrics of the "Hallelujah" song by Leonard Cohen

Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?

(My comments: It has been said that this is a reverence to King David of biblical fame)

Well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Refrain: (basically the vocalist sings the word "Hallelujah" over and over in a rather sad and mournful way)

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah

My comments: It has been suggested that is about Sampson & Delilah (the guy who lost his strength when his hair was cut off.)

Refrain

Baby, I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before I knew you

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and broken Hallelujah

Refrain

Well, there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do you?

But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

My comments: Some thought this might have been a reverence to sexual intercourse, others theorize that it may mean the Christ child in Mary's womb as a result of the Holy Spirit, etc.

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you

And it's not a cry that you hear at night
And it's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Refrain

So what do you think it all means? I found it very intriguing and will be writing on this piece as an assignment for school.