Tuesday, February 26, 2008
BTW (as the kids say these days) :)
Although I thoroughly enjoyed Juno, I have to say that I think Lars and The Real Girl got robbed for the Academy Awards Best Screenplay award. I mean really (no offense to Juno), teen pregnancy (not a novelty) versus a sex doll acting as a bridge for one lonely man and the world he learned to be a part of. Really. If you haven't seen Lars... see it, as soon as you can. Soak it in. And then, when you have time, see Juno too. ;) And ... one more thing. I cheered out loud when Once won the Best Song award for "Falling Slowly." I never tire of that song. It wakes life up in me.
This Too Shall Pass
Sigh.
A week has passed since my last posting. When I started this blog, my goal was to write almost every day (I make attempts at realism). I've missed *being* in this space. With you. Thinking.
I'm assuming that many of us have stood at the ocean at one point in time and watched waves form, build, then break, and recede. (I'm heading somewhere with this ... promise). Well, I sort of feel like life is the ocean ... with seasons of life building, breaking, receding, and so the cycle continues. And, on a much smaller scale, last week was a wave-breaker kinda' week. Bills, Schoolwork, Phone Calls to Be Returned, Laundry to Be Done, Calories to Be Burnt ... all of these "to do-s" were building, Building, BUILDING ... until the force of the water had to break, to topple down, to splay out and recede. And the thing is, a surfboard was nowhere in sight. So, I did the duck and cover, trying to protect the most vulnerable parts of myself from getting too wet and waiting for the water to recede so that I could survey the damage. And there's been some. Bills are late. Pants "hug" a little more. A paper and thank you note are both overdue. But, I'm standing up, watching the water level inch its way down from my waist to my knees. And this weekend, Lord willing, I will acquire at least one night of sleep that hits the double digits (hour-wise). I'll clean up the messes, write the thank you note, send the paper to the professor with a heap of groveling attached, and well, go to the gym. This too shall pass.
My mom taught me that quote. And I've found it comforting on more than one occasion. But, today I think of both sides of that coin. Eventually, my home will be clean; the dishes will be done; the pants will hang looser. And that too, will pass. The crests and the troughs. The cycle of life.
So, today I sit heaped under a load of to do-s ... my fingers still pruned up from too much H20. But, I think I'll stop a moment, wipe my eyes, look around and enjoy the view, the wet hair, the sand beneath my feet. Because ... this is my life. And it too, will pass.
A week has passed since my last posting. When I started this blog, my goal was to write almost every day (I make attempts at realism). I've missed *being* in this space. With you. Thinking.
I'm assuming that many of us have stood at the ocean at one point in time and watched waves form, build, then break, and recede. (I'm heading somewhere with this ... promise). Well, I sort of feel like life is the ocean ... with seasons of life building, breaking, receding, and so the cycle continues. And, on a much smaller scale, last week was a wave-breaker kinda' week. Bills, Schoolwork, Phone Calls to Be Returned, Laundry to Be Done, Calories to Be Burnt ... all of these "to do-s" were building, Building, BUILDING ... until the force of the water had to break, to topple down, to splay out and recede. And the thing is, a surfboard was nowhere in sight. So, I did the duck and cover, trying to protect the most vulnerable parts of myself from getting too wet and waiting for the water to recede so that I could survey the damage. And there's been some. Bills are late. Pants "hug" a little more. A paper and thank you note are both overdue. But, I'm standing up, watching the water level inch its way down from my waist to my knees. And this weekend, Lord willing, I will acquire at least one night of sleep that hits the double digits (hour-wise). I'll clean up the messes, write the thank you note, send the paper to the professor with a heap of groveling attached, and well, go to the gym. This too shall pass.
My mom taught me that quote. And I've found it comforting on more than one occasion. But, today I think of both sides of that coin. Eventually, my home will be clean; the dishes will be done; the pants will hang looser. And that too, will pass. The crests and the troughs. The cycle of life.
So, today I sit heaped under a load of to do-s ... my fingers still pruned up from too much H20. But, I think I'll stop a moment, wipe my eyes, look around and enjoy the view, the wet hair, the sand beneath my feet. Because ... this is my life. And it too, will pass.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Both/And
Good morning,
Well, in the name of confession, I must first admit that this blog comes so early because it is a form of procrastination for a paper I find too overwhelming to write. The paper is for my Theology, Pop Culture and The Emerging Church class. We have to write a response paper to the last set of discussions we've had about, well ... theology, pop culture, and the emerging church. Here's the thing: my professor is smart. And not just smart in the grammatically correct sort of way. He's smart in the can-understand-any-question-and-give-a-thought-provoking-answer sort of way. And he's British. And the combo is intimidating. Well, that, and the fact that he told us that in order to earn an A in his class, you have to provide a new thought ... something that emerged from within you and your experience that you are able to articulate in a unique way. Sigh. I'm just trying to keep my underwear drawer full of clean undies and my puppy from chewing up the carpet ... eeek ... new thoughts feel intimidating. So, I thought it'd help to present an idea about which I've been thinking a lot to you all ... a much friendlier and less intimidating audience.
Several years back, I took a class on interpersonal communication from an A-mazing professor. And one of the forms of thinking that we studied was dialectical thinking ... the both/and of life. In other words, while many ideas in life seem to be either/or, some things in life -- though seeming to be exclusive of one another -- can be both/and. For example: science and faith. Many people in society declare that one must EITHER be a person of faith OR a scientist. However, some scientists (my dad being among them) might think differently. Perhaps (to quote my daddio) science and faith answer different questions. Science answers the "how?" and faith answers the "why?" And science provides just one more way of being in awe of God's miracle of creation. In fact, my father would tell you that the study of geology (he's a professor emeritus) has convinced him further of the existence of God. But, this blog is not intended to address the science/faith issue. It's just an example of the "both/and" of life. You can be BOTH a scientist AND a person of faith.
Anyway, as you may have guessed, I am a VERY both/and sort of gal. I see the ambiguities of life, and they don't bother me much. And while many in the world are able to live in more of a black/white sort of way, I seem to thrive in multiple colors of grey. I know them all ... charcoal grey, heather grey, graphite grey ... I know grey. I wear grey. I am grey. And yet, there's a place ... no, a need ... for black and white sometimes. The Gas Company doesn't really so much care about grey. Grey doesn't pay bills. So ... what to do with all of this colorless talk? And how to live in the tension between black/white and grey? And what does it actually look like to allow black and white to lend structure to life and grey to help you navigate the nuances?
I don't have an answer for this question ... by the way.
In closing, I'd like to share a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald that my dear friend Natalie shared with me.
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold
two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still maintain the
ability to function. For me, now, those two ideas are as follows: (1)
After many years, countless revisions and dozens of submissions, my
novel has failed to find a publisher. (2) It is a success."
Here's to holding oppositional ideas within and to maintaining the ability to function!
And -- I saved the best for last, Happy Birthday Mama! I learned what love looks like in your eyes.
Well, in the name of confession, I must first admit that this blog comes so early because it is a form of procrastination for a paper I find too overwhelming to write. The paper is for my Theology, Pop Culture and The Emerging Church class. We have to write a response paper to the last set of discussions we've had about, well ... theology, pop culture, and the emerging church. Here's the thing: my professor is smart. And not just smart in the grammatically correct sort of way. He's smart in the can-understand-any-question-and-give-a-thought-provoking-answer sort of way. And he's British. And the combo is intimidating. Well, that, and the fact that he told us that in order to earn an A in his class, you have to provide a new thought ... something that emerged from within you and your experience that you are able to articulate in a unique way. Sigh. I'm just trying to keep my underwear drawer full of clean undies and my puppy from chewing up the carpet ... eeek ... new thoughts feel intimidating. So, I thought it'd help to present an idea about which I've been thinking a lot to you all ... a much friendlier and less intimidating audience.
Several years back, I took a class on interpersonal communication from an A-mazing professor. And one of the forms of thinking that we studied was dialectical thinking ... the both/and of life. In other words, while many ideas in life seem to be either/or, some things in life -- though seeming to be exclusive of one another -- can be both/and. For example: science and faith. Many people in society declare that one must EITHER be a person of faith OR a scientist. However, some scientists (my dad being among them) might think differently. Perhaps (to quote my daddio) science and faith answer different questions. Science answers the "how?" and faith answers the "why?" And science provides just one more way of being in awe of God's miracle of creation. In fact, my father would tell you that the study of geology (he's a professor emeritus) has convinced him further of the existence of God. But, this blog is not intended to address the science/faith issue. It's just an example of the "both/and" of life. You can be BOTH a scientist AND a person of faith.
Anyway, as you may have guessed, I am a VERY both/and sort of gal. I see the ambiguities of life, and they don't bother me much. And while many in the world are able to live in more of a black/white sort of way, I seem to thrive in multiple colors of grey. I know them all ... charcoal grey, heather grey, graphite grey ... I know grey. I wear grey. I am grey. And yet, there's a place ... no, a need ... for black and white sometimes. The Gas Company doesn't really so much care about grey. Grey doesn't pay bills. So ... what to do with all of this colorless talk? And how to live in the tension between black/white and grey? And what does it actually look like to allow black and white to lend structure to life and grey to help you navigate the nuances?
I don't have an answer for this question ... by the way.
In closing, I'd like to share a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald that my dear friend Natalie shared with me.
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold
two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still maintain the
ability to function. For me, now, those two ideas are as follows: (1)
After many years, countless revisions and dozens of submissions, my
novel has failed to find a publisher. (2) It is a success."
Here's to holding oppositional ideas within and to maintaining the ability to function!
And -- I saved the best for last, Happy Birthday Mama! I learned what love looks like in your eyes.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Because I couldn't resist!
Well, in my previous post, I put up several pictures from this past weekend. Because we made so many fun memories: here are a few more.
After a Family Weekend
Hi all,
Well, it has been way too long since my last blog. Last week was one of the most intense I've had since starting grad school. 'Nuff said. Anyway, I am back ... in more ways than one. Back to blogging. And back from a long weekend spent in Phoenix with my entire family (of 16) celebrating my mom's ... dare I say it, Mom? (my mother is private about these things:) ... well, spent celebrating a milestone birthday for her. Three score and ten ... that's all I'll say. :) Anywho ... it was a really marvelous weekend. Wonderful to throw off all the to-dos for a time and say (with my actions) that truly what is most urgent is not always what is more important. A few "firsts" from the weekend:
**First time ALL 16 members of my family were out on a dance floor at one time.
**First wearing of the new summer bathing suit I bought at Ross ... because really, why should I pay more than necessary for a social-phobia-inducing-piece of spandex?
**First family weekend in a while with practically ZERO drama! :) I love you guys!
And so, in celebration of the life-FULLness of Mom and this past weekend, here are perhaps more photos than necessary (but I love 'em) of some of the charades:
Well, it has been way too long since my last blog. Last week was one of the most intense I've had since starting grad school. 'Nuff said. Anyway, I am back ... in more ways than one. Back to blogging. And back from a long weekend spent in Phoenix with my entire family (of 16) celebrating my mom's ... dare I say it, Mom? (my mother is private about these things:) ... well, spent celebrating a milestone birthday for her. Three score and ten ... that's all I'll say. :) Anywho ... it was a really marvelous weekend. Wonderful to throw off all the to-dos for a time and say (with my actions) that truly what is most urgent is not always what is more important. A few "firsts" from the weekend:
**First time ALL 16 members of my family were out on a dance floor at one time.
**First wearing of the new summer bathing suit I bought at Ross ... because really, why should I pay more than necessary for a social-phobia-inducing-piece of spandex?
**First family weekend in a while with practically ZERO drama! :) I love you guys!
And so, in celebration of the life-FULLness of Mom and this past weekend, here are perhaps more photos than necessary (but I love 'em) of some of the charades:
Monday, February 11, 2008
On Culture
So, today I went to Day 1 of an intensive course at school, entitled, "Theology, Pop Culture, and the Emerging Church." My professor is a slightly morphed version of Sting ... British accent, spiky blond hair, silver Converse shoes, multiple ear piercings ... not the average professor you see walking around Fuller. It's fantastic. I love variety.
He talked about technology and culture ... about the idea that we shape technology, and then technology shapes us. Incidentally, pretty much anything sounds cooler if it's said in a British accent. OK -- back to the reciprocal change issue at hand. Interesting. This paradox. What we own owns us. What we make makes us. There's got to be some yin and yang in that idea somewhere. Or is it just coincidence?
Anyhow, he offered ideas about: changes in technology causing cosmic-size shifts in culture, about how no community is best served when only the elite are in charge, and about the phenomenon that occurs in which the more increasingly we rely on technologies that we hardly understand, the larger the space that is created for mystery. And he shared it all with the ease of a sailor swearing. It's fun to listen to people who have thought more about something than you have. I like hearing thoughts that come easily from the lips of another and take a lot of effort on my part to absorb. But, it also makes me tired.
On that note, it's time for bed.
By the way, a silly blog is bound to come soon. I can only be serious and scholarly for so long. :)
He talked about technology and culture ... about the idea that we shape technology, and then technology shapes us. Incidentally, pretty much anything sounds cooler if it's said in a British accent. OK -- back to the reciprocal change issue at hand. Interesting. This paradox. What we own owns us. What we make makes us. There's got to be some yin and yang in that idea somewhere. Or is it just coincidence?
Anyhow, he offered ideas about: changes in technology causing cosmic-size shifts in culture, about how no community is best served when only the elite are in charge, and about the phenomenon that occurs in which the more increasingly we rely on technologies that we hardly understand, the larger the space that is created for mystery. And he shared it all with the ease of a sailor swearing. It's fun to listen to people who have thought more about something than you have. I like hearing thoughts that come easily from the lips of another and take a lot of effort on my part to absorb. But, it also makes me tired.
On that note, it's time for bed.
By the way, a silly blog is bound to come soon. I can only be serious and scholarly for so long. :)
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Yesterday At The Beach....
The sparkling crests of ocean waves....
One of my all-time favorite books, very realistic, yet hope-FULL
I am quite happy when my view looks like this! :)
Friday, February 8, 2008
More from Jim Wallis
Well, it is late. And I'm tired. But, I once had a writing professor who used to say, "Writers write. If you want to be a writer, you need to write. Write everyday. An essay, a journal entry. Anything. Just write." And so, in an effort to keep some sort of consistency with this blog AND to well ... write ... here goes.
As I said in my first blog entry (which by the way, had lots of spelling mistakes; sorry!), I've been thinking alot about Lent. As a child, Lent usually meant going to the Ash Wednesday service, walking around with ashes on my forehead and thinking about what I might give up. However, over the past few years, I've been trying to get at the heart of these seasons ... Lent, Advent, etc. I want to walk THROUGH them.
So, as this year's Lent approached, I began to think about how I might commemorate it. And then, I went to hear Jim Wallis this Tuesday -- the night before Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Jim is a Reverend, founder of the social justice magazine, Sojourners, author, political activist, etc. He wrote a book recently, entitled "Why the Right Gets It Wrong, and the Left Doesn't Get It." Now that's a great title.
He said alot of really great things. And, I'm sure that I won't be able to bring the cohesion to them that he did, but here they are (in no particular order or connectedness):
1) Giving is a tricky thing. We have to judge our giving not by what we give, but by what we have left after we've given.
2) History is always changed by groups of common citizens who band together and influence someone in power (ex: the Civil Rights Movement and Lyndon Johnson). It is our duty as citizens and Christians to get involved for change.
3) No matter who gets elected as President, we -- as large groups of people -- have more power to change things than a President ever will.
4) Budgets are moral documents.
5) Christ never mentioned homosexuality; he DID mention poverty ALOT of times.
He said a lot more that I'm not remembering right now. But, what I most remember was his thoughts on hope. An audience member asked a question about how to motivate older members of society, since, of course, the younger generation is always easy to motivate. Jim answered by saying that actually my generation -- the younger generation -- had, in fact, NOT been easy to motivate. Rather, he had encountered a lot of apathy and indifference. He then went on to say that he felt that that was changing. And he shared a few thoughts on hope. He said that cynical people recognize that things need to change. They may recognize that something is wrong. But, they don't have any hope that things will change. I've never thought of myself as a cynic, but at that moment, something in my heart resonated, and I realized that I've become pretty cynical. It's funny. I'm such an optimist about life ... but I'm a cynic about change. Jim went on to say that hope is not a feeling. It's a decision. A decision to believe in a change that you can't yet see. He told this wonderful story about Desmond TuTu and Nelson Mandela, about being in South Africa when Mandela was imprisoned and then again when he was inaugurated. And he talked about what it looked like to believe in change we can't see.
All of it left me thoughtful. And, then Ash Wednesday came. And during a conversation with my life-full friend, Natalie, I realized that one way I need to commemorate Lent is to try to give up cynicism and take on hope. Choose hope. Work for hope. So, this blog is just one way for me to incorporate that into tangible everydayness. I'll write about other things too: recipes, funny stories, rants about annoying rap songs ... I'm sure the gamut will run wide. But, I'll try to share my thoughts about hope along the way.
OK, I've "talked" your ear off. If you've made it this far, thanks!
Nigh night all!
As I said in my first blog entry (which by the way, had lots of spelling mistakes; sorry!), I've been thinking alot about Lent. As a child, Lent usually meant going to the Ash Wednesday service, walking around with ashes on my forehead and thinking about what I might give up. However, over the past few years, I've been trying to get at the heart of these seasons ... Lent, Advent, etc. I want to walk THROUGH them.
So, as this year's Lent approached, I began to think about how I might commemorate it. And then, I went to hear Jim Wallis this Tuesday -- the night before Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Jim is a Reverend, founder of the social justice magazine, Sojourners, author, political activist, etc. He wrote a book recently, entitled "Why the Right Gets It Wrong, and the Left Doesn't Get It." Now that's a great title.
He said alot of really great things. And, I'm sure that I won't be able to bring the cohesion to them that he did, but here they are (in no particular order or connectedness):
1) Giving is a tricky thing. We have to judge our giving not by what we give, but by what we have left after we've given.
2) History is always changed by groups of common citizens who band together and influence someone in power (ex: the Civil Rights Movement and Lyndon Johnson). It is our duty as citizens and Christians to get involved for change.
3) No matter who gets elected as President, we -- as large groups of people -- have more power to change things than a President ever will.
4) Budgets are moral documents.
5) Christ never mentioned homosexuality; he DID mention poverty ALOT of times.
He said a lot more that I'm not remembering right now. But, what I most remember was his thoughts on hope. An audience member asked a question about how to motivate older members of society, since, of course, the younger generation is always easy to motivate. Jim answered by saying that actually my generation -- the younger generation -- had, in fact, NOT been easy to motivate. Rather, he had encountered a lot of apathy and indifference. He then went on to say that he felt that that was changing. And he shared a few thoughts on hope. He said that cynical people recognize that things need to change. They may recognize that something is wrong. But, they don't have any hope that things will change. I've never thought of myself as a cynic, but at that moment, something in my heart resonated, and I realized that I've become pretty cynical. It's funny. I'm such an optimist about life ... but I'm a cynic about change. Jim went on to say that hope is not a feeling. It's a decision. A decision to believe in a change that you can't yet see. He told this wonderful story about Desmond TuTu and Nelson Mandela, about being in South Africa when Mandela was imprisoned and then again when he was inaugurated. And he talked about what it looked like to believe in change we can't see.
All of it left me thoughtful. And, then Ash Wednesday came. And during a conversation with my life-full friend, Natalie, I realized that one way I need to commemorate Lent is to try to give up cynicism and take on hope. Choose hope. Work for hope. So, this blog is just one way for me to incorporate that into tangible everydayness. I'll write about other things too: recipes, funny stories, rants about annoying rap songs ... I'm sure the gamut will run wide. But, I'll try to share my thoughts about hope along the way.
OK, I've "talked" your ear off. If you've made it this far, thanks!
Nigh night all!
Thursday, February 7, 2008
The Day After Ash Wednesday
Well hi all of you in cyberland! I could tell you the long story, but my fingers are not patient enough. So, here's the short story. I've wanted to nurture my love of writing by blogging for a long time now, but as with all good intentions, well.... need I say more?
But, here I am. And I've been motivated to finally translate intention into action with by two things:
1) I heard Jim Wallis speak here at Fuller night before last and he said some things that really spoke to me. (That will be a later blog - part 2 of the story)
2) I've been intrigued by the idea of more intentionally commemorating the liturgical calendar in my life ... integrating seasons with daily life in an effort to be more ALIVE. I decided to use this impetus to get my lazy fingers typing.
1+2=vwahlah - my new blog, entitled "Reaching for Hope."
I'm a bit nervous AND excited at the thought of throwing some of my thoughts out there for anyone to read. Partly because I am naturally a private person, and partly because it could potentially dig me even dipper into the self-defeating well of concentrating on what others might think about what I'm thinking. Either way, I'm ready for a new adventure.
So, my first entry will be this poem I wrote on Tuesday.
Without further ado:
THE EVE OF ASH WEDNESDAY
I am like them.
I don’t want it to be so.
I want to fall asleep in the garden of Gethsemene.
To dream.
Your death.
My death.
I’d rather pretend it never happened,
Die slowly and forget that I am dying.
Surrounded by translucent leaves in golden hours, the melody of rain, miraculous creation, the just knowingness-
Surrounded by children laughing, sultry chocolate, sparkling crests of ocean waves, and ruby red of berries-
I wish that little girls having sex on websites for lonely older men who don’t know how to reach out and slaves sewing clothes for $5 a day that are sold for $50 and my desire to buy just one more CD rather than donate to an organization that drills wells for people without drinking water, and my desire to consume, consume, consume-
I wish these didn’t exist.
And they do.
Your death.
My death.
Help me please.
To walk some semblance of a journey with You.
Grant me courage to face it—
In myself,
In the world,
And hold my heart together as I do.
But how to walk forward into another day knowing of such things?
And how to savor the sweet tenderness of a raspberry knowing that his belly’s swollen?
Help me please.
To walk in these two worlds.
To walk some semblance of a journey with you.
So that—
When I grab my keys and paint my lips and head to church to sing that You are risen,
I might carry within
joy that only comes from knowing sorrow.
-2/5/08, SB
But, here I am. And I've been motivated to finally translate intention into action with by two things:
1) I heard Jim Wallis speak here at Fuller night before last and he said some things that really spoke to me. (That will be a later blog - part 2 of the story)
2) I've been intrigued by the idea of more intentionally commemorating the liturgical calendar in my life ... integrating seasons with daily life in an effort to be more ALIVE. I decided to use this impetus to get my lazy fingers typing.
1+2=vwahlah - my new blog, entitled "Reaching for Hope."
I'm a bit nervous AND excited at the thought of throwing some of my thoughts out there for anyone to read. Partly because I am naturally a private person, and partly because it could potentially dig me even dipper into the self-defeating well of concentrating on what others might think about what I'm thinking. Either way, I'm ready for a new adventure.
So, my first entry will be this poem I wrote on Tuesday.
Without further ado:
THE EVE OF ASH WEDNESDAY
I am like them.
I don’t want it to be so.
I want to fall asleep in the garden of Gethsemene.
To dream.
Your death.
My death.
I’d rather pretend it never happened,
Die slowly and forget that I am dying.
Surrounded by translucent leaves in golden hours, the melody of rain, miraculous creation, the just knowingness-
Surrounded by children laughing, sultry chocolate, sparkling crests of ocean waves, and ruby red of berries-
I wish that little girls having sex on websites for lonely older men who don’t know how to reach out and slaves sewing clothes for $5 a day that are sold for $50 and my desire to buy just one more CD rather than donate to an organization that drills wells for people without drinking water, and my desire to consume, consume, consume-
I wish these didn’t exist.
And they do.
Your death.
My death.
Help me please.
To walk some semblance of a journey with You.
Grant me courage to face it—
In myself,
In the world,
And hold my heart together as I do.
But how to walk forward into another day knowing of such things?
And how to savor the sweet tenderness of a raspberry knowing that his belly’s swollen?
Help me please.
To walk in these two worlds.
To walk some semblance of a journey with you.
So that—
When I grab my keys and paint my lips and head to church to sing that You are risen,
I might carry within
joy that only comes from knowing sorrow.
-2/5/08, SB
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