I am a little in love with the beauty of this idea. ^_^
Author: Melissa Snyder
TV Review: The Borgias
I know the show ended a few years ago but I also cancelled my cable a few years ago so I had to wait until seasons 2 and 3 of Showtime’s “The Borgias”, starring Jeremy Irons and Holliday Granger as the fabled Rodrigo Borgia (Pope Alexander Sextus) and his daughter Lucrezia, came to Netflix. The show chronicles the rise of the Borgia family as Rodrigo buys and promises his way to an election after the death of Pope Innocent. He is followed in this rise by his three illegitimate children by former courtesan and lover Vannozza dei Cattanei: Juan, Cesare, and Lucrezia. A fourth child, Gioffre, dies of the sweating sickness in the first season. As Rodrigo takes the throne of St. Peter’s and elevates his children with him (Juan to head of the Papal army and Cesare to Cardinal), he begins to work to build a last legacy of Borgia. He takes a new mistress, the legendary La Bella, Giulia Farnese – a woman as intelligent as she was beautiful. Cesare, unsatisfied with his brother’s inept martial abilities, decide to take his family’s protection and honor in hand and he does so by acquiring the skills of a man originally hired to assassinate his father, one Micheletto Corella.
Micheletto Corella, God’s own assassin
Now, here’s the interesting part. Micheletto, an assassin, a nobody, became my absolute favorite character in the show. Of course, Micheletto’s convincing line to Cesare is “Someone as pitiless as you needs someone as pitiless as me”. And so he becomes God’s own assassin, meting out death and pain in equal measure where necessary. A skilled student in the art of death, we find out that Micheletto is from Forli, kingdom of the infamous Catherina Sforza. He has ties there, secrets. Micheletto is a man of many secrets and ever so many more burdens upon his soul, though he would exhort the opposite. He becomes instrumental to many a Borgia plot and the jinn to grant even many a Borgia wish. He is indelibly complex, even though he seems pretty straight-forward and cruel. He is an assassin, after all. But he is a clever man with untold skills and an eidetic memory. We never find out all of his story. He gives you one or two details about a situation and keeps the rest forever for himself. I’m fascinated by him. And, what’s more, I feel for him, all the time! When he left in the middle of season 3, I have rarely been so upset about the departure of a character or as elated as when he returned for ONE scene later on in the season.
I was disappointed with the show’s end but even more with how it ended. I know that television shows do not have an option when they are cancelled but events had been set in motion with that final episode of season 3 that left one’s stomach in a lurch and disappointed that they would never come to fruition. Jeremy Irons was not as diabolical as I am perhaps used to seeing him but he portrayed the conflicted Rodrigo Borgia – a man who desired to be of faith but was always a slave to ambition – as well as I have ever seen him played. All in all, however, “The Borgias” was enjoyable, beautifully set and costumed, and the actors portrayed their characters just as I would have wanted.
Striking to Think
I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I finished my shower last night and was rather struck by my reflection. My cheeks were rosy, lips pink, eyes dark and long-lashed, and my ponytail in a curling coil over my shoulder. It was one of those moments that it felt like seeing myself for the first time and not recognizing who was looking back at me. Even odder and more striking to me was to catch myself thinking, “Beautiful!” Let me say that for you again. In that moment, I thought myself to be beautiful. Part of me sorely wished to take a picture but I realized that no camera was ever going to catch the way I saw myself in that moment. Yesterday, I spent most of the day catching up on “The Borgias” so I was looking at Holliday Granger all day, undoubtedly one of the most beautiful young women I have ever seen. So, to consider myself as beautiful and graceful as “Lucrezia Borgia” herself for a moment was a pretty big deal to me. When I finished and came out into the living room, I gave my husband quite a kiss, one that made him asked, “Are you…trying to tell me something?”
I smiled and replied, “Just that…I feel beautiful right now.”
Breathing Prayer
I have found myself praying often lately, especially when my mind begins to turn tumultuous – dwelling and worrying and the like – or even when it is quiet. I find my self pouring out in prayer. Prayers for myself, for others, over the situations in my life that need guidance or an answer. It’s really me talking to God, and it feels natural, which always amazes me. I was raised in the conservative Christian church; prayer is far from a foreign concept to me. Still, to find prayer – thanks, intercession, honesty about fears and needs, rejoicing, etc. – flowing from my mind, mouth, and pen as naturally as breathing never fails to amaze me. I have found myself lying in bed unable to sleep, my mind racing with worries and fears, and I start talking to God, pouring those worries into his figurative lap. I tell him what I need, where I am lost and need guidance. Am I to go back to work to allow Ben more time for ministry? Am I to resume teaching or strike out into something new and unknown? What would I do with Elizabeth? Where do I put my foot next? What am I to say or do for this friend who is hurting or in difficulty? How am I to be a good friend to them and not simply make empty statements? What do I need to do, or be doing, to be a good wife to Ben? I bring all of these questions in prayer, but I also bring my joys. I’m thankful that Elizabeth is as healthy as she is. I am thankful for our home and the new opportunities in our lives. I am thankful to have met Ben and I am blessed to be his wife. I am thankful to be able to be with my daughter and to blog and write more.
Writing is my preferred method of communication at least 70% of the time, honestly. I write down many of my prayers, but to have prayer flowing easily through my thoughts or my voice, true heartfelt prayers, is a big deal to me, One of the admonitions in the New Testament of the Bible is to prayer unceasingly. I will freely admit that there have been long periods when I have gone without talking to God, that’s what prayer is, after all, and those have been times of worry, fear, and a distinct lack of peace. Praying is not easy when life is hard I do but I trust that they will be. I have faith and that’s really all I can do. Have faith, prayer for myself and others, and follow that leading when I feel it linger in my heart and soul.
Prayer, faith, belief – maybe none of makes sense to you or may apply to your life. That’s all right. It does to me.
Defending My Peace
Originally posted on The Well Written Woman, “Defending My Peace”.
Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You’ll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I’ll stay
Let the storm rage on – “Let It Go”, Disney’s Frozen
Lately, I have been surrounded by situations that provoke my helplessness. Even more so than my helplessness, though, they provoke my desire to take care of things, to help, to fix things, make everything okay. I have thought, I have written, I have prayed, and I have indeed found guidance and followed it as best I can. So everything is supposed to be good, right? Everything is supposed to fall into place, isn’t it? Yeah, not so much.
I feel like a storm, a maelstrom, is roaring around me, and, every time I think it has abated somewhat, that I have made progress or taken a step forward, it blows up in my face again, roaring and bashing against my heart and mind. I take step after step forward, trying to do what I feel convicted about, what I feel God has laid on my heart and led me to do, what’s important and right. When I follow through, it brings me peace. But then, as I try to walk forward, I feel like my feet sink into the snow, into the mud, and the cold. My peace is threatened. I war against my own mind, my own tendency to doubt myself, to doubt my worth, my actions. But that peace glows and warms me like a coal, a feeling that is often so fleeting in our lives these days. I don’t want to lose that, so I have resolved to defend my peace, to fight for it. And that involves something that is very difficult for me, something that is hard to admit and even harder for me to say to myself.
My peace does not depend on others. My peace depends on me doing what my heart has been convicted is right, what I need to do, and resting in that and in God. My peace is on me, not them. While it may be true, it is something that takes me reminding myself every day, moment by moment, prayer by prayer. But those prayers are not just for me; they are also for those in my life, those in these situations. Prayers for peace for them as well in whatever capacity in which they need it.
There are days, the not-so-great days, when my peace is threatened by things inside and outside of these situations, but I will continue to fight and defend and hold on to my peace. It’s a constant work. Worries threaten, as they always have, but I am working on weighing them out. The things that I can control, I will do the best I can with them. The things I cannot control, I have to just let them go because they are not mine to deal with. And it’s hard to let go; specifically, to let go of my desire to fix the things around me and make everything hunky-dory. I can’t do that. It’s not my place nor my job to fix everything. I can deal with things in my own life, in my sphere, but I recognize that my emotional and mental tendency is such that I want to fix everything for others, too. Family, friends, the people who I care about in my life. Admitting that I can’t, that sometimes I am helpless to affect such a change or a fix, is hard. But, if I constantly worry and fear and flail, all I will do is cause myself pain and guilt over something that I realistically had no control over in the first place. Control, true control, over our lives may be an illusion, as some have suggested, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to grasp at it, to not feel quite so helpless in it all. Endeavoring for balance is where I find myself at one point or another in my life. “Let go and let God” is the saying that comes immediately to mind, and that is where I am right now, as I sit in the dark of my quiet house writing this while everyone else is asleep.
I find myself praying more and more lately, when my mind turns towards the maelstrom, when it threatens to drown me again and I feel helpless. That helplessness swells up so strong and hits without warning. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going or standing on my head or my feet, where to turn or what to do. It’s why I follow my gut, that voice within, when I feel led by God to do something, when I feel that sense of direction in my heart and my soul. I follow it because, in that moment, the next place to put my foot is clear to me. Maybe just that next step and only that next step, but it’s there. When I feel that it is the right thing for me to do, it’s not a sense of control necessarily, it’s a sense of “yes, this is right” and that’s where I try to step. It might not make sense to anyone other than me but I believe that it is God’s metaphoric thumb in my back, which I cannot ignore, or, at least, I try not to. When I follow through on that leading, the peace that comes with it more than amazes me in its comfort. I don’t want to lose that.
So, to echo Elsa, here I stand, and here I’ll stay. Let the storm rage on! The cold may bother me but I won’t let it beat me. I won’t let it, let my peace, go.
A different view of women
I loved everything about this. ^_^ I think I owe the friend who sent it to me a drink or a dessert or something.
Review: Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from a Little Golden Book
Yesterday, my husband showed up home from work and held this book out to me (along with a gorgeous new notepad and gel pen, the man really knows how to get to me). “For you,” he said, “I figured you’d chewed on enough of them in your childhood, so you’d appreciate it. And he’s right. When I was a child, I had dozens of Little Golden Books, both with the golden and the silver spines and I loved them for the mere fact that they were books. But I also liked them for another reason. I thought the spines were delicious. I would sit and chew on the spines of those books and just think. It’s like how some adults chew on pens or pencils in the midst of thought, that’s what I did as a kid. And it remains a joke within my family, especially now that I have a fourteen-month-old daughter who adores chewing on books herself.
However, this book really touched my heart. Full of advice and adages for a “golden” life, it pulls its wisdom from some of its most popular and beloved books, such as The Saggy Baggy Elephant, Baby Listens, Tootles, and The Pokey Little Puppy. As I sat on my couch and read through it, I smiled with every page, not only at the familiar illustrations but also at the simple but very encouraging advice. If you are looking for a keepsake book to just make you smile, this is a wonderful choice! 🙂
Connection
“We know that every connection matters. Every connection is crucial and when one is broken, it usually means that the damage has been done. This system of connection compels us to act, choose and behave… sometimes seemingly against our own will, but it is not random at all. It is the map of who we are. We will work to understand ourselves… solve the puzzle of how all the connections work and how all the pieces fit.”
The Fallacy of “I Don’t Care”
“I don’t care.”
It’s an expression of apathy, a defense against responsibility, against hurt, against the unknown. We learn it as children, as a layer of armor against something we don’t want to do or say or deal with. “You’ll lose your playing time.” “I don’t care.”
“I don’t care” is a lie. We say it to convince others when the person we are trying to convince is ourselves. It’s a lie, words that need not be said if they are true. I say it because it isn’t true. I say it because I do care. I say it because my heart is breaking. I say it because I don’t want to cry. I say it because I’m angry. I say it because I am trying to be brave. I say it because I think I’m supposed to. I say it because I don’t know how to feel. I say it because I’m helpless to do anything else but say it.
But it’s a lie. I do care. Madame Vastra’s statement is probably apropos here: “Truth is singular, lies are words, words, words.”
Resurrecting Dead Poets
I am not a huge fan of Walt Whitman but, now that Robin Williams’ quoting of his poem “O Me! O Life!” from Dead Poets Society is the background for Apple’s new iPad commercial, that poem has once again become imprinted on the front of my brain.
O Me! O Life!
BY WALT WHITMAN
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
I, as a human being, cannot help but ask myself sometimes, what good am I? And the honest truth to that is: I don’t know. I don’t know what good I am, what grand purpose I have in the scheme of life, what – if any – legacy I will leave after me. All I know is that I am here and whatever verse I am contributing, I am trying to make it a good one, a sound one, one that will encourage and edify. I don’t really know what I am doing but I’m trying my best to do it well.
MWGS: Mom, Writer, Geek, Superwoman 