Today over miso soup and bento boxes, I listened to a friend who is also waiting to hear back about an application, also feeling the need for some kind of change in order to avoid stagnation, even though he doesn’t want to abandon the roots and growth he has here in Greensboro.
He wants to get a PhD in American Studies from Yale, and he shared with me parts of his application, the most striking of which is his “diversity statement”. One: my friend is brilliant. Two: he is a poet, so even his prose is powerful. Three: although the program for which he is applying is labeled American Studies, his ideas are all about finding that ‘new humanity’ I long for, and therefore are less American and more Humanity Studies. And we arrive back at ontology: the study of BEING: transcendent of nationality, ethnicity, culture, education, ability, and given names.
I’ve been thinking of stepping outside of my context lately, and I’m sticking my big toe out into that river, so see what happens.
Being white, I am perhaps lagging behind many of my fellow twenty-somethings (and even younger people) in the struggle of discovering where I fit in (or don’t) to the racial/cultural lines that have been drawn and into which we are all born. Nate’s studies and thoughts lead him away from racial labels. By his standards he is not ‘black’ or necessarily ‘African-American’, since those terms suggest a specific cultural identity and also ignore the multiple facets of his past. He points out that he has European and Native American blood along with the African lineage from which he inherited his skin and features. His “white” ancestors’ heritage and family histories did not cease to exist when they joined with people of darker skin. So why, then, did their children lose the right to claim the family trees on both sides? Why have science and society and history been allowed to declare who we are instead of letting us define ourselves? Why do we seek to divide ourselves when the human soul longs for utopia? We have more in common than not.
I’ve previously written that I think a sign of maturity is realizing that others are just as multi-dimensional as I. That when I walking up the sidewalk and pass a small work-crew, they are having a separate conversation that has nothing to do with me, and their thoughts about me begin and end with the Southern ritual “How’re ya doing?” and my impersonal response. That six billion plus people do not all exist to fulfill my needs. That people are not a drug for my ego or, going deeper, for my soul. And that when I try to use them as such, the soul hit* doesn’t last very long. The brief satisfaction it brings me to think that I am occupying some important mental and emotional space for a perfect stranger does not make me need the next person any less. Thus, I discover the insatiable appetite of my soul. Created to find identity outside of ourselves, we latch on to whatever makes us feel better. We can turn to temporary solutions, or abandon them for a true infinite**.
One difficulty is that we must abandon them again and again, when we awake, before we doze off, while cooking dinner, at work or on the commute. And sometimes we have to say goodbye to a good thing in order to keep it from going stale. Or maybe we have to fast from something that we enjoy in order to "leave room for longing," as Nate said it -- to remind our bodies that the soul needs more nourishment than physical food, entertainment, or relations.
*term used by my pastor on Sunday; not sure if he coined it or not
**after C.S. Lewis (constantly quoted by my pastor)… “the sweet poison of the false infinites”
Friday, February 29, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Stuff it or consent to it?
I think too much. Is that one of those aggravating traits of my humanness that Gail says we just have to consent to, and keep going?
Can I curb it? It can probably be redirected... with considerable effort. I have tried to do so before, and experienced short reprieves. Instead of just thinking about that friend I haven't seen in a long time, pray for her. Instead of planning a million possible paths for my life over the next months, live in this day and in the excitement of this stage, rest in the assurance that I am not in control and can't know the future. Instead of beating myself up for letting my imagination get ahead of my life, breathe out, let go, and re-center on Christ.
Will I live inside myself or in the world?
Can I curb it? It can probably be redirected... with considerable effort. I have tried to do so before, and experienced short reprieves. Instead of just thinking about that friend I haven't seen in a long time, pray for her. Instead of planning a million possible paths for my life over the next months, live in this day and in the excitement of this stage, rest in the assurance that I am not in control and can't know the future. Instead of beating myself up for letting my imagination get ahead of my life, breathe out, let go, and re-center on Christ.
Will I live inside myself or in the world?
Sunday, February 17, 2008
impatience and trust
Since 1517, according to etymonline.com, the word patience has had the meaning "constancy in effort." Since 1985, I have not been very good at that.
I thought I would hear back from the organization in Colombia last week. I tried not to hope too much that I would, but am frustrated at the difficulty of communication across miles and cultures. I don't like to wait.
While awaiting their response, upon which I feel the direction of my future heavily rests, my mind has begun to race again. For months, while I tried to contact them to no avail, contemplated if I was serious about working with them, and then filled out the lengthy application, my tendency to plan a thousand different paths for my life dissipated. Now it is returning.
Like I talked about in the last post, I've taken the risk and offered myself and now I am hanging here, waiting to see if they want me. My initial peace about waiting is wearing thin. The planner in me is inducing mini freak-outs about what I'm going to do with the next months of my life.
So I need some reminders that I am not the one in charge here, that I am in good hands:
"...being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6)
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)
"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." (Ephesians 3:20-21, italics mine... it's sort of a mantra for me)
I also look back over the past years to examples of God's goodness and provision, reminders that He walks before me and behind me, that I need to trust in Him and not in any other person or thing. And I have good friends who encourage me in this learning to wait on the Lord. My parents, pointing to the classic "But they that wait upon the LORD will renew their strength" (Isaiah 40:31), and my roomate's note left for me on the counter, that is now taped to my mirror: "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:34).
It is still my hope to hear from Colombia soon, to be accepted, to be able to start planning and raising money and feel a little bit of direction, but if they answer me with a "no" or "not now," then I trust in the bigger plan, the one that is immeasurably more than all I ask or imagine. My love for others and for God is growing, and my interests of ways to get involved and serve are, too. I am excited to see what the Lord makes of my life.
"But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." (Romans 8:25)
I thought I would hear back from the organization in Colombia last week. I tried not to hope too much that I would, but am frustrated at the difficulty of communication across miles and cultures. I don't like to wait.
While awaiting their response, upon which I feel the direction of my future heavily rests, my mind has begun to race again. For months, while I tried to contact them to no avail, contemplated if I was serious about working with them, and then filled out the lengthy application, my tendency to plan a thousand different paths for my life dissipated. Now it is returning.
Like I talked about in the last post, I've taken the risk and offered myself and now I am hanging here, waiting to see if they want me. My initial peace about waiting is wearing thin. The planner in me is inducing mini freak-outs about what I'm going to do with the next months of my life.
So I need some reminders that I am not the one in charge here, that I am in good hands:
"...being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6)
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)
"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." (Ephesians 3:20-21, italics mine... it's sort of a mantra for me)
I also look back over the past years to examples of God's goodness and provision, reminders that He walks before me and behind me, that I need to trust in Him and not in any other person or thing. And I have good friends who encourage me in this learning to wait on the Lord. My parents, pointing to the classic "But they that wait upon the LORD will renew their strength" (Isaiah 40:31), and my roomate's note left for me on the counter, that is now taped to my mirror: "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:34).
It is still my hope to hear from Colombia soon, to be accepted, to be able to start planning and raising money and feel a little bit of direction, but if they answer me with a "no" or "not now," then I trust in the bigger plan, the one that is immeasurably more than all I ask or imagine. My love for others and for God is growing, and my interests of ways to get involved and serve are, too. I am excited to see what the Lord makes of my life.
"But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." (Romans 8:25)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
this business is risky
It's risky indeed, this business of BEING. Because central to this mission of embracing my human-ness and your human-ness, and of ushering in a new humanity, is a vulnerability so eXtreme that it could be a sport.
My lame joking aside, the choice between protecting myself and taking chances in the unpredictable realm of relationships is really difficult! I want to live in the tension and not throw the baby out with the bathwater... but there's so much dingy water that I sometimes wonder if the baby is worth getting my arms wet and dirty.
But neither do I want to be so paralyzed by fear that I cannot be an agent of grace, a "mobile garden" in the dried-out world, bringing hope. This isn't all about me reaching out to others, either. I need/want others to extend themselves to me, but I want it to be safe. I don't want to get hurt. And I (mostly) don't want to hurt anyone else. ('mostly' because the baggage includes a knife that's begging to be used to hurt and reject someone at least once!)
What can thaw the fear? What can break the self-protecting, self-seeking streak in me?
Here's Rob Bell on the subject:
"If there is a God who loves us and has acted in history to express that love, what would it look like? This is what I mean by the sheer poetry of the Jesus story. Jesus is God coming to us in love. Sheer unadulterated, unfiltered love. Stripped of everything that could get in the way. Naked and vulnerable, hanging on a cross, asking the question, 'What will you do with me?'
This is why for thousands of years Christians have found the cross to be so central to life. It speaks to us of God's suffering, God's pain, God's broken heart. It's God making the first move and then waiting for our response. If you have ever given yourself to someone and had your heart broken, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and found yourself waiting for their response, exposed and vulnerable, left hanging in the balance, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and they responded, they reciprocated with love of their own, you know how God feels." (Sex God 105-106)
... because He first loved me. God's movement toward me, making himself completely vulnerable and putting the power in my hands to accept or reject him -- let me seek courage there, in the power of the slain lamb.
[NOTE: I still think there have to be some boundaries for protection in all relationship, but in the choice to extend myself or retreat I hope to vote for risk-taking love every time.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." (Proverbs 4:23)]
My lame joking aside, the choice between protecting myself and taking chances in the unpredictable realm of relationships is really difficult! I want to live in the tension and not throw the baby out with the bathwater... but there's so much dingy water that I sometimes wonder if the baby is worth getting my arms wet and dirty.
But neither do I want to be so paralyzed by fear that I cannot be an agent of grace, a "mobile garden" in the dried-out world, bringing hope. This isn't all about me reaching out to others, either. I need/want others to extend themselves to me, but I want it to be safe. I don't want to get hurt. And I (mostly) don't want to hurt anyone else. ('mostly' because the baggage includes a knife that's begging to be used to hurt and reject someone at least once!)
What can thaw the fear? What can break the self-protecting, self-seeking streak in me?
Here's Rob Bell on the subject:
"If there is a God who loves us and has acted in history to express that love, what would it look like? This is what I mean by the sheer poetry of the Jesus story. Jesus is God coming to us in love. Sheer unadulterated, unfiltered love. Stripped of everything that could get in the way. Naked and vulnerable, hanging on a cross, asking the question, 'What will you do with me?'
This is why for thousands of years Christians have found the cross to be so central to life. It speaks to us of God's suffering, God's pain, God's broken heart. It's God making the first move and then waiting for our response. If you have ever given yourself to someone and had your heart broken, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and found yourself waiting for their response, exposed and vulnerable, left hanging in the balance, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and they responded, they reciprocated with love of their own, you know how God feels." (Sex God 105-106)
... because He first loved me. God's movement toward me, making himself completely vulnerable and putting the power in my hands to accept or reject him -- let me seek courage there, in the power of the slain lamb.
[NOTE: I still think there have to be some boundaries for protection in all relationship, but in the choice to extend myself or retreat I hope to vote for risk-taking love every time.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." (Proverbs 4:23)]
Friday, February 8, 2008
caught mid-molting
Lately I'm re-thinking a lot of my personal policies for interacting with others. Because of this re-evaluation, I'm feeling a little bewildered and imbalanced. Is this still me?
I like to imagine myself a queen of consistency, yet it always amazes me to look back at how much I've changed, and to think that in another few years, and then another few after that, and after that, I will keep changing, and yet still be myself.
Right now I'm losing feathers but they haven't been replaced yet. It's strange and frustrating and I want to get through to the end already! But, here is a time (a week? a month? how long will it last?) that I will to be able to point to and say, "There! That's the awkward feeling of growing into oneself! It doesn't just happen overnight."
I like to imagine myself a queen of consistency, yet it always amazes me to look back at how much I've changed, and to think that in another few years, and then another few after that, and after that, I will keep changing, and yet still be myself.
Right now I'm losing feathers but they haven't been replaced yet. It's strange and frustrating and I want to get through to the end already! But, here is a time (a week? a month? how long will it last?) that I will to be able to point to and say, "There! That's the awkward feeling of growing into oneself! It doesn't just happen overnight."
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
four-dimensional
I had an amazing Saturday morning last weekend. I met with a friend at a local coffee shop and we spent two and a half hours talking and laughing about life, our lives.
And that was life-giving for me.
Part of our conversation that I think is applicable to this, a blog about life and BEING to the fullest of our potential, was the realization that a big marker of maturation is being able to see others' multiple dimensions. I want to grow into that.
Again and again I see that living is about going deeper and truly seeing and knowing. It's about stripping off every label and supposition that weighs us down and getting particular with whatever it is we feel drawn to, from science to art, and above all with our fellow bearers-of-the-divine-image.
In seeking activites that are life-giving, spending time talking and sharing food with people is definitely on my list, along with riding bikes. More to come, I'm sure.
Today I read what I think was the best paragraph so far in Marquez's Cien años de soledad. If you've read it, or plan to, let me know and we'll be nerdy and lofty and discuss the power of the written word.
And that was life-giving for me.
Part of our conversation that I think is applicable to this, a blog about life and BEING to the fullest of our potential, was the realization that a big marker of maturation is being able to see others' multiple dimensions. I want to grow into that.
Again and again I see that living is about going deeper and truly seeing and knowing. It's about stripping off every label and supposition that weighs us down and getting particular with whatever it is we feel drawn to, from science to art, and above all with our fellow bearers-of-the-divine-image.
In seeking activites that are life-giving, spending time talking and sharing food with people is definitely on my list, along with riding bikes. More to come, I'm sure.
Today I read what I think was the best paragraph so far in Marquez's Cien años de soledad. If you've read it, or plan to, let me know and we'll be nerdy and lofty and discuss the power of the written word.
Friday, February 1, 2008
restless? redirect.
In a moment of silence and clarity on the way to work one night this week, I realized that I've been feeling restless lately.
And it's because I don't have a "next big plan" for my life, like I normally do. I'm in a waiting stage and I don't want to be. I know what I want to do: to go to Colombia and work with street kids through this organization: www.colombiastreetkids.org But right now I have to wait to see if they'll accept my application, and if so, when I would go there. And if they say no? What then?
I love teaching ESOL, but I've been a little frustrated with it recently and am wondering if I can keep doing this for the rest of the year (or at least through the end of the summer), and where I'll live when the lease is up, and if I'll stay in Greensboro then or not.
So I took advantage of a pause in my day to bring these anxieties to the front of my mind and lay them out in the open before God. And my restlessness is gone! It hasn't just disappeared, but rather it has been replaced with redirection. Redirection to focus myself and my energy on where I am now, instead of rushing ahead to the future (or trying to, and getting frustrated by what appears to be a blank wall where I want to see the next step or two of a staircase).
I got realigned to live in the present and to wholly BE not only who, but where I am.
Therefore, I point myself outward instead of inward; facing those around me: roommates, friends, coworkers, students, passersby; and pouring myself into their lives and into the life of my community.
Please hold me accountable to this.
And it's because I don't have a "next big plan" for my life, like I normally do. I'm in a waiting stage and I don't want to be. I know what I want to do: to go to Colombia and work with street kids through this organization: www.colombiastreetkids.org But right now I have to wait to see if they'll accept my application, and if so, when I would go there. And if they say no? What then?
I love teaching ESOL, but I've been a little frustrated with it recently and am wondering if I can keep doing this for the rest of the year (or at least through the end of the summer), and where I'll live when the lease is up, and if I'll stay in Greensboro then or not.
So I took advantage of a pause in my day to bring these anxieties to the front of my mind and lay them out in the open before God. And my restlessness is gone! It hasn't just disappeared, but rather it has been replaced with redirection. Redirection to focus myself and my energy on where I am now, instead of rushing ahead to the future (or trying to, and getting frustrated by what appears to be a blank wall where I want to see the next step or two of a staircase).
I got realigned to live in the present and to wholly BE not only who, but where I am.
Therefore, I point myself outward instead of inward; facing those around me: roommates, friends, coworkers, students, passersby; and pouring myself into their lives and into the life of my community.
Please hold me accountable to this.
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