Jim Mayzik SJ                   Everything Matters
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Jim Mayzik SJ Blog

I'll be using this space from time to time to share my reflections and thoughts on various topics.  Please feel free to add to the conversation by writing some reaction in the COMMENT section! 

 

 

The Good Shepherd he, little lambs all, we

Oreo  was a big, happy three-legged old mutt of a dog, who lived with my sister and her family up in Vermont.   In her prime she would fight the good fight with the dastardly squirrels, who taunted her constantly, but they were too clever and she was too dumb and she rarely won the good fight.

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You hungry?

Whenever I think about family, I think about food.

Maybe it goes back to my mother, who like many mothers, was the center of our family, and whenever I think of her, I think of the meals she made for us.

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What are your wounds?

I’ve been recently sampling some shows on Netflix and HBO and Amazon, and in many of them—even the comedies—there is such a cynical view of the world. Many of them have characters who are young adults, and they are often self-absorbed and cynical about life, and their issues are familiar to anyone who has friends or children in that stage of their lives.

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No cross, no glory.

I’m thinking about those cloaks they threw down on the muddy ground. Throwing your cloak onto the ground was a sign of submission and showing respect. They were pretty important pieces of clothing.

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Mercy, mercy, mercy.

She sat there alone in the hallway of the studio, waiting to be called to audition for my film, her fingers doodling in the sand. The ad for the audition said: mature woman 60-70 years old needed.  I could see her through the window of the rehearsal room, and I thought of my Aunt Anna.

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POEM SHARE: El Florida Room
Not a study or a den, but El Florida 
as my mother called it, a pretty name
for the room with the prettiest view 
of the lipstick-red hibiscus puckered up
against the windows, the tepid breeze 
laden with the brown-sugar scent 
of loquats drifting in from the yard.
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Don't you dare laugh.

I think I was on my third or fourth ravioli and the bread was great and the wine was better and we were having a good conversation about some movie, my friend and I, and of course I secretly harbored the opinion that my celluloid observations were far more brilliant than my companion's because after all I am the filmmaker, am I not, but anyway the dinner was, as I said, going down well in this quiet little restaurant, until this... disturbance began.

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Purpose.

I was in the Tivoli diner, down the street from the church, and I was with one of my former students.  He’s struggling with questions about his career.  He’s not sure what he wants to do anymore: what direction to take in a job, where he should live, even whom to love.

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The plus sign.

If you’re like me, I see the advent of Uber and Lyft cars in the city as a very mixed blessing.  On the one hand, they are very convenient, no doubt. On the other hand, they are definitely clogging up our streets and slowing down traffic immensely.

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The Dude.

I went to a restaurant the other night, and on the way in, a guy accidentally bumped into me.  “Sorry, dude,” he said, and I thought dude? I’m a dude? Maybe I’m THE dude!.

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