This past week and a half has been full of things. I’ve gone to so many different events and have seen a plethora of people, and the next few weeks are full of more of the same. There was a Goo Goo Dolls concert in Youngstown; a film fest at Malone University; a production of Les Miserables in Cleveland; birthday dinners (four, all for the same person); and soon there will be wedding showers, bachelorette parties, Easter services, graduation parties and dinners and ceremonies, and quite a few other things thrown into my days, as well. And these are all great things! I’m glad I’m able to enjoy time spent with friends, and I’m thankful I’m able to celebrate and participate in these things with others. It’s refreshing, after the dullness of winter, to take part in the awakening nature that is representative of spring.
Even though I know what’s going on in my life, relatively, for the next few weeks, there is coming a point in the near future where I’m really not going to know what “the plan” is. I don’t know where I’ll be in a month and a half, much less three or seven or eleven.
This freaks me out 97% of the time.
I was talking with a dear friend last night about issues with control and stability and fears, and he was saying to me that he’s finding even some of his admirable goals are driven by fears. I was able to relate with all he was saying, but his words have been making me think more closely about my choices for my life and what the predominant driving force is behind those choices, both the big and small ones (though let it be noted that I believe every choice and movement is consequential; nothing is ever void of impact).
I’m really good at asking the detail questions and about thinking through scenarios, but I usually take it too far. And that’s what I’ve been doing for the past few months. I’ve been hyper-controlling everything I can and trying to do the same with the things I really can’t control. And what I’m realizing is that I’m incredibly insecure and fearful. Beneath my desire for stability and order is fear. Beneath my desire to stay near those I love is fear. Not love.
It’s really strange to look at my life and see how many things are products of fear. And it’s difficult to think about ways to change. I keep returning to the idea of being present in the moment—not projecting into the future. And even though I’m saddened by what I can see in my life and in my motives, I’m also encouraged because I don’t believe anyone is ever stuck in any way of being. And I’m encouraged because there are so many redeemable things and relationships in my life, despite my fears and motivations—that grace is beautiful. So I just keep chanting to myself to take baby steps toward letting go of control and voicing the truth behind my motives and decisions, and I am trying my best to enjoy these times I’m getting to spend with my friends not because I’m afraid of losing them or our closeness, but because I love them. It makes a difference.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
thoughts about love and god
About a year ago I finished my thesis. A woman, after reading it, asked me with tears in her eyes if I still loved God. I remember standing there in the foyer at church, looking at her with this blank stare on my face, thinking, “Well, I haven’t thought much about that recently, if I still love God. That’s an odd question.” It wasn’t a question of belief or of faith, but of love, and that question has stuck with me throughout this past year.
I don’t remember my answer. It was probably something like, “Oh, yes. I do. I just understand that differently now.” This was and is a true answer. But still, a year later, that question is in my mind, and I find I don’t have an answer except for the above; I just have more questions.
“I love God.” “I love Jesus.” I see these bumper stickers and t-shirts all the time. And I say, “Blah-de-blah.” Forgive me if I sound irreverent, but what do those statements actually mean? To me, they sound trite. Perhaps it is the use of the word “love,” because: I love burritos; I love the color green; I love autumn; I love Nick; I love my friends; I love God. Again, blah, blah, blah. (I think, much of the time, when I say “love,” I really mean “fond of.” i.e. I’m fond of burritos; I enjoy them.) The word “love” has lost its poignancy because it has been cheapened. It is used frivolously and carelessly and for far too many different contexts. There is the feeling, there is the action, there is the interplay between those two things, and love is a many-colored multi-faceted verb-noun.
Perhaps it is my understanding (or lack of understanding) of this “God.” Perhaps it is my belief in and questions about truth and Truth and god and God that makes this concept of loving him/her/it/them difficult for me to grasp.
In the statement, “I love God,” those two words “love” and “God” are tricky; they are bigger than I can understand, and to group them together like that makes me think I must be setting myself up for confusion. It makes me think that I am cheapening something or that I am stepping into disillusion about understanding and appreciating something as infinite and incomprehensible as love and god.
Or perhaps the problem lies in my lack of understanding of my own love or of my capability to love. Thinking about what it would actually look like, internally and externally, to love God makes me aware of all the ways in which my life doesn’t reflect that concept. At the same time, I can also say that thinking about the ways in which I cannot and do not love God make me more aware of and thankful for love and grace. But then my mind heads back toward definitions: what is love, what is grace? And I continue to weave little patterns in my mind around these questions.
After a few years of struggling with questioning, I’ve come to a place where I’m comfortable (not comfortable like sitting in an easy-chair rocking back and forth, but comfortable in the way that I’m not having panic attacks every couple of nights) with existing in an up-in-the-air kind of place. I’m okay with having questions and not being able to answer them. I think the important thing is to continue to think and to learn—and I think if I really am learning well, I’m going to have more questions.
The black and white swirl together and things become much greyer, but there is motion. Thanks be to God.
I don’t remember my answer. It was probably something like, “Oh, yes. I do. I just understand that differently now.” This was and is a true answer. But still, a year later, that question is in my mind, and I find I don’t have an answer except for the above; I just have more questions.
“I love God.” “I love Jesus.” I see these bumper stickers and t-shirts all the time. And I say, “Blah-de-blah.” Forgive me if I sound irreverent, but what do those statements actually mean? To me, they sound trite. Perhaps it is the use of the word “love,” because: I love burritos; I love the color green; I love autumn; I love Nick; I love my friends; I love God. Again, blah, blah, blah. (I think, much of the time, when I say “love,” I really mean “fond of.” i.e. I’m fond of burritos; I enjoy them.) The word “love” has lost its poignancy because it has been cheapened. It is used frivolously and carelessly and for far too many different contexts. There is the feeling, there is the action, there is the interplay between those two things, and love is a many-colored multi-faceted verb-noun.
Perhaps it is my understanding (or lack of understanding) of this “God.” Perhaps it is my belief in and questions about truth and Truth and god and God that makes this concept of loving him/her/it/them difficult for me to grasp.
In the statement, “I love God,” those two words “love” and “God” are tricky; they are bigger than I can understand, and to group them together like that makes me think I must be setting myself up for confusion. It makes me think that I am cheapening something or that I am stepping into disillusion about understanding and appreciating something as infinite and incomprehensible as love and god.
Or perhaps the problem lies in my lack of understanding of my own love or of my capability to love. Thinking about what it would actually look like, internally and externally, to love God makes me aware of all the ways in which my life doesn’t reflect that concept. At the same time, I can also say that thinking about the ways in which I cannot and do not love God make me more aware of and thankful for love and grace. But then my mind heads back toward definitions: what is love, what is grace? And I continue to weave little patterns in my mind around these questions.
After a few years of struggling with questioning, I’ve come to a place where I’m comfortable (not comfortable like sitting in an easy-chair rocking back and forth, but comfortable in the way that I’m not having panic attacks every couple of nights) with existing in an up-in-the-air kind of place. I’m okay with having questions and not being able to answer them. I think the important thing is to continue to think and to learn—and I think if I really am learning well, I’m going to have more questions.
The black and white swirl together and things become much greyer, but there is motion. Thanks be to God.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
a few post-graduation thoughts
This would be my final semester of college, but I went ahead and finished that up a few months ago. During the past several months, I've thought about whether or not I would rather be in school this spring. Do I miss classes? Yes. Do I miss learning in that academic type of setting? Sure. Do I enjoy the time free from stressing over projects and papers? Definitely. Do I enjoy being able to choose what I read? Yup. Have I found myself lonely or stagnating? Nope.
It's just different, that's all. Working instead of going to classes is an adjustment. Having rent and bills to be responsible for is new. Not knowing what I'll be doing in the fall is both daunting and reassuring, in a way. This transition from college to post-college time isn't going to be completely comfortable, and I've experienced my own freak-outs along the way. But it's interesting, really, getting to live life outside of the academic framing (though I do miss it and look forward to being back in its warm, cradling arms once again).
But here are some really great things about not being in school anymore:
- weekends: these can now be dedicated to spending time with others or to pursuits of my choosing without having to figure out when to complete a paper or study for a test
- learning: it continues! It's been neat to see that my love of learning and my desire to continue to stretch myself didn't die when the classes ended. Instead, I'm able to focus my attention on learning about things specific to my interests, like food ethics, writing, and literature
- sleep: I get a lot more sleep now (though I was never one to deprive myself of this too much during college), and I can't remember the last time I woke up at 5 a.m. to finish a paper
- memory: I can remember what I did in an entire day! Before, I would come to the end of the night and not be able to remember what I had for breakfast, what I did after lunch, etc. My schedule was so crammed full of things that my mind couldn't keep up with it all. Note: this plays into the "sleep" factor--it's much easier to calm my mind at night and I no longer lose sleep because of my racing thoughts
- food: I have enough time to cook and eat normal meals now. Meals consisting of cheeze-its and an apple have desisted
- people: I'm able to concentrate on people and on enjoying my time with them a lot more now. In fact, spending time with others has become a staple in my day-to-day life and it's refreshing to be able to enjoy that time without worrying about other responsibilities
There are a lot of other things, too, but as I was writing this list and reflecting on things, I began to wonder how much of these changes are more of a reflection of a poor handling of myself and my time while I was in college. I wonder about the degree to which I allowed myself to be ruled by busyness and accomplishments.
I'm grateful for this time now, though. I'm grateful for a time of rest. I'm thankful for a time to reflect on my college experience. And I'm glad to have the chance to evaluate my modes of being in and out of school so as to better prepare myself for when I enter back into that environment.
It's just different, that's all. Working instead of going to classes is an adjustment. Having rent and bills to be responsible for is new. Not knowing what I'll be doing in the fall is both daunting and reassuring, in a way. This transition from college to post-college time isn't going to be completely comfortable, and I've experienced my own freak-outs along the way. But it's interesting, really, getting to live life outside of the academic framing (though I do miss it and look forward to being back in its warm, cradling arms once again).
But here are some really great things about not being in school anymore:
- weekends: these can now be dedicated to spending time with others or to pursuits of my choosing without having to figure out when to complete a paper or study for a test
- learning: it continues! It's been neat to see that my love of learning and my desire to continue to stretch myself didn't die when the classes ended. Instead, I'm able to focus my attention on learning about things specific to my interests, like food ethics, writing, and literature
- sleep: I get a lot more sleep now (though I was never one to deprive myself of this too much during college), and I can't remember the last time I woke up at 5 a.m. to finish a paper
- memory: I can remember what I did in an entire day! Before, I would come to the end of the night and not be able to remember what I had for breakfast, what I did after lunch, etc. My schedule was so crammed full of things that my mind couldn't keep up with it all. Note: this plays into the "sleep" factor--it's much easier to calm my mind at night and I no longer lose sleep because of my racing thoughts
- food: I have enough time to cook and eat normal meals now. Meals consisting of cheeze-its and an apple have desisted
- people: I'm able to concentrate on people and on enjoying my time with them a lot more now. In fact, spending time with others has become a staple in my day-to-day life and it's refreshing to be able to enjoy that time without worrying about other responsibilities
There are a lot of other things, too, but as I was writing this list and reflecting on things, I began to wonder how much of these changes are more of a reflection of a poor handling of myself and my time while I was in college. I wonder about the degree to which I allowed myself to be ruled by busyness and accomplishments.
I'm grateful for this time now, though. I'm grateful for a time of rest. I'm thankful for a time to reflect on my college experience. And I'm glad to have the chance to evaluate my modes of being in and out of school so as to better prepare myself for when I enter back into that environment.
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