The sun has already set on 2012 in the Windy City, and the cold night's only going to get colder. It's my first time celebrating the New Year in Chicago, and I get to ring in 2013 on this frigid night with some good friends I hadn't even met a year ago. 2012's been one of the most interesting and full years I've had so far, and I can only imagine 2013 will have a few surprises up its sleeve as well.
I can't look back on 2012 and try to label it a good or bad year or anything that simplistic. There's no way I can summarize or lump together a collection of 365 days that took me many new places and through many new things. It's been hard but rewarding, exhausting but clarifying, surprising and exciting but predictable in some ways. I can say with all honesty I'm glad it's over, just due to the sheer amount of energy and endurance it took to get through it all - but at the same time, I know the year that we all just passed through doesn't just vanish into the past once we hit January 1st. There are things I started, things I ended, choices I made, and choices I put on hold during the last year (years, really) that will shape the next year I'm about to leap into.
Knowing that takes away any pressure that could build up as the new year slips into place. I'm hoping to hold onto that renewing, refreshing, joyful feeling that comes with the promise of a new year while still remembering that there doesn't need to be any pressure to superhumanly change and improve everything about my life in the next 365 days.
On this night that I'm look both backwards and forwards, reconciling the lessons of 2012 with the hope of 2013, here are the top 5 things I learned this past year - lessons I want to carry with me on our next rotation around the sun:
5) Sometimes your perspective is more important that your circumstances.
This last fall was probably the hardest time I've gone through yet. It was often exhausting, draining, confusing, and packed with too many commitments. I have never been so anxious for so long before, and it made me pretty miserable. About halfway through the semester, I finally started adopting a healthier perspective on life (i.e. did I really think straight As matter anymore? Oh wait...they never mattered as much as I thought they did..). I relaxed more and reminded myself what really mattered - God, the people in my life, health, peace, my real purpose, just to mention a few. The billions of little things that were pulling me down started to lift because I stopped letting them outweigh their real importance.
4) Sometimes your circumstances matter more than your perspective.
Contradictory? Yes. Truth? Absolutely. My life's circumstances this past year may have been overwhelming at times, but they were also more than manageable. They seemed super hard because I let myself believe they were. My perspective was so off-kilter that it started to affect my reality. For example - I'd feel stressed so I'd convince myself I needed a day off from my schoolwork, and I'd end up making my next day even more stressful. My pessimism made my circumstances even worse. If I'd just taken a good, hard look at what my situation was instead of focusing on how overwhelmed I felt, I would've realized things were just fine.
3) When you're feeling sorry for yourself, suck it up and go spend time with someone.
Clear enough? I hope you like tough love this New Year's eve:) Isolation can breed all sorts of trouble. It's important to be able to spend time alone (especially for all you introverts out there), and being alone can yield a lot of good things. Praying and meditating on God needs to be done by yourself sometimes; you need time to reflect on the crazy things life's throwing at you; maybe you just need to be away from someone for awhile. But always choosing isolation when you're in pain or overwhelmed is the equivalent to shooting yourself in the foot when you've already shot yourself in the hand. Learn to trust the people you love with the pain you carry. They can help bring you out of that dark place, and they'll remind you the most important thing we know - that we're worth loving.
2) Eat peppermint patties every day. Every. Single. Day.
So peppermint patties are one of my favorite things. A lot of my friends have learned to associate them with me by now. (Which means they often give them to me. Bonus!). They're amazingly delicious and relatively healthy...I mean, as far as candy goes. Some of you may not like them. Fools. The point is, make sure you do things that bring you joy every day. Even if it's as small (yet wonderful) as biting into a York Peppermint Patty, don't ever give up on pursing things that bring your life and joy.
1) Always stay open and listening for what comes next.
Whether things are good or bad, they will change. Always. Transition is one of the only things we can count on. That may seem frightening, but it's only frightening if you start putting your hope in temporary, tangible things. You want to hear one of the most amazing things about humans, about you and me? We're adaptable. We transform. We choose what we like from our environment - the life around us, the people around us, the books we read, the food we eat, the jobs we choose, the hobbies we pursue (the list just keeps going) and we make them part of ourselves. Which means we can became some pretty amazing creatures. God was quite clever when he made us so flexible and adaptive - He gifted us with the capacity to become people who brought love, life, healing, peace, joy, and so much more(!) to this world.
And that is what gives me hope as we roll into the new year. Bring it on, 2013 - I'll take what's best from you and make it part of me.
12.31.2012
11.08.2012
advent reflection on pharaohs, wall street execs, justice...and a partridge and a pear tree
*Spoiler Alert* There is NOTHING about partridges or pear trees in this post. Sorry if this ruins the post for you, but I trust you'll get over it quickly enough;)
A friend of mine at Seminary asked me to write a short reflection relating Exodus 5:1-2 to the labor movement, which will be included in a collection of writings/devotions for the upcoming Advent season that his labor rights organization is publishing. Honestly, I hope it makes you a little uncomfortable - both by causing you to look at what our country values based on the gods it serves, and also in challenging you to reflect on what you value, who you serve, and if you're willing to stand up for people who are currently exploited in the 'land of the free and the home of the brave.'
Afterward Moses and
Aaron went to Pharaoh and said, “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, ‘Let my
people go, so that they may celebrate a festival to me in the wilderness.” But
Pharaoh said, “Who is the LORD, that I should heed him and let Israel go? I do
not know the LORD, and I will not let Israel go.” Exodus 5:1-2
History
has a notoriously long and checkered past regarding the exploitation of others,
particularly of laborers. As harsh and unreasonable as Pharaoh was to the
Israelites he had enslaved and forced into hard labor, he was not the first,
the last, the worst, or particularly outstanding in the unjust treatment of his
workers.
Vast
inequality of wealth and power in a society has - and does - result in abuse of
those in the lower classes, including the working class. Whether it is Pharaoh
or the CEO of a major multi-national corporation, when that much power and
wealth is concentrated in only a few hands, power and wealth will corrupt them.
In Exodus 5:2, Pharaoh shows no compassion, justice, or mercy to his laborers. He
refuses to give them any rest or respite from their work. In fact, if you read
beyond verse 2, you will find that Pharaoh actually commands the supervisors to
make their labor more difficult! Power and wealth are his gods, so why would he
need to acknowledge or obey Yahweh, Lord of the Israelites?
Listening
and obeying Yahweh and choosing to treat
his laborers humanely would diminish Pharaoh’s gods of wealth and power.
The gods Pharaoh worshiped are the same gods worshiped on Wall Street today.
Greed, wealth, power, and personal fortune may have morphed from ruling over
all Egypt to owning yachts, an impressive 401k, and the newest limited edition
Mercedes-Benz, but they remain the same destructive forces they have always
been on society.
The
good news is that those gods, those false idols, are nothing compared with God.
We know the end of the Exodus story. Yahweh prevails, punishes Pharaoh and his
realm with plagues and destruction, and liberates his people from their
oppressors. The laborers are set free from the soul-wrenching, brutal work they
were forced to do for many years, and they were finally able to set out for the
Promised Land. Was it easy? No. It took courage, strength, endurance,
persistence, vision, and faith – which
were all provided by the God who loved his people tremendously. The God who
still loves his people tremendously. He still hears the cries of those who
labor under awful conditions, who are desperate for respite and rescue, and He
will answer them.
10.07.2012
the coup against superwoman
There's a reason I didn't get around to blogging until the last day of September (and that my post was pathetically short). It's the same reason my last two months have been a blur and my mind's been stuck on high gear, winding and winding away.
A problem has developed since the end of August. Life has subtly, gradually, ruthlessly become a bit unbalanced over here in the Windy City. My schedule is packed and bursting at the seams, and all the things I do - things I (mostly) care about and have chosen - have become embittered by a deficit of time, energy, and passion, as I have tried and failed to meet my superhuman expectations for all of them.
You see, I have a disease. I like to call it the Superwoman Syndrome, and I know I'm not the only one to suffer from it. There's this stubborn, strong-willed, perfectionist part of me that has recently taken up a dictatorship in my head. As my responsibilities and commitments have grown this semester at North Park, the superwoman side of me has stepped in to run the show. She tyrannizes over the rest of me, telling me I need to be working more, studying more, putting more effort in, spending less time on "things that don't matter" (like having fun and carving out time to simply find joy in life). And after all that, she tells me I'm still not good enough.
If my mind was just occupied by this Superwoman Syndrome, maybe I'd be OK with those ruthlessly perfectionist tendencies. I'd be scary as hell, but at least I'd be alright knowing I was 100% behind that driven, high-achievement seeking woman.
But I'm not. Superwoman doesn't hold a monopoly over my mind, and a few of that tyrant's subjects are not exactly happy with her at the moment. There's a large part of my head that acknowledges my need for joy, adventure, and creativity - making things simply for the sake of making them, not producing them with an assigned purpose, criteria, and impending evaluation. This part of me likes taking mini-adventures in the city, cooking, writing, making up stories with friends (generally revolving around the perennial Pirate Ship saga), playing the piano. It makes me incredibly sad to know how little I've seen this side of me this fall. I haven't been completely unfun, but man, there just hasn't been enough of this.
Besides Superwoman and the joy-seeking part of me, there's another part of me I've often been ignoring lately. Honestly, I've been avoiding this one most of my life. Part of me is messed up, imperfect, flawed, ugly, angry, lost, judgmental, scared... human. God, how I hate this part of me sometimes.
Did anyone else think that as you grew up, the screwed-up side of you would get smaller, or less powerful, or just go away altogether? Even though I wouldn't necessarily have said I thought it would go away, part of me really believed I could shake it. Being in Seminary throws this dilemma into sharp relief. Studying God, reading about God, meditating on God, praying to God, learning about God. Knowing we're supposed to look to Jesus as who we model our life after, but at the end of the day, I'm definitely still not Jesus.
Christian or not, we all have to deal with our uglier side eventually. Some people deny the ways they're messed up, some prefer to blame others, some come to hate themselves because they can't get rid of their brokenness, some celebrate their flaws and perhaps even flaunt them. All I'm hoping to do is look them straight in the eye, let them know I see them, and quit buying into the lie that I'll ever get past all my weaknesses.
The flawed and the joyful parts of me have been ignored and diminished far too long this fall. It's time to throw a coup and knock Superwoman off the throne. The funny thing is, I don't even think she'll object too much. There hasn't been any part of me that's enjoyed the overwhelmingly anxious cloud that's been following me around this semester, not even the tyrant that's partly to blame. The pursuit of perfection, marked by setting hopelessly high standards, is not the way to live a life. At least it's not the way I can live my life. I guess it's time to go have fun and maybe even mess up a bit.
A problem has developed since the end of August. Life has subtly, gradually, ruthlessly become a bit unbalanced over here in the Windy City. My schedule is packed and bursting at the seams, and all the things I do - things I (mostly) care about and have chosen - have become embittered by a deficit of time, energy, and passion, as I have tried and failed to meet my superhuman expectations for all of them.
You see, I have a disease. I like to call it the Superwoman Syndrome, and I know I'm not the only one to suffer from it. There's this stubborn, strong-willed, perfectionist part of me that has recently taken up a dictatorship in my head. As my responsibilities and commitments have grown this semester at North Park, the superwoman side of me has stepped in to run the show. She tyrannizes over the rest of me, telling me I need to be working more, studying more, putting more effort in, spending less time on "things that don't matter" (like having fun and carving out time to simply find joy in life). And after all that, she tells me I'm still not good enough.
If my mind was just occupied by this Superwoman Syndrome, maybe I'd be OK with those ruthlessly perfectionist tendencies. I'd be scary as hell, but at least I'd be alright knowing I was 100% behind that driven, high-achievement seeking woman.
But I'm not. Superwoman doesn't hold a monopoly over my mind, and a few of that tyrant's subjects are not exactly happy with her at the moment. There's a large part of my head that acknowledges my need for joy, adventure, and creativity - making things simply for the sake of making them, not producing them with an assigned purpose, criteria, and impending evaluation. This part of me likes taking mini-adventures in the city, cooking, writing, making up stories with friends (generally revolving around the perennial Pirate Ship saga), playing the piano. It makes me incredibly sad to know how little I've seen this side of me this fall. I haven't been completely unfun, but man, there just hasn't been enough of this.
Besides Superwoman and the joy-seeking part of me, there's another part of me I've often been ignoring lately. Honestly, I've been avoiding this one most of my life. Part of me is messed up, imperfect, flawed, ugly, angry, lost, judgmental, scared... human. God, how I hate this part of me sometimes.
Did anyone else think that as you grew up, the screwed-up side of you would get smaller, or less powerful, or just go away altogether? Even though I wouldn't necessarily have said I thought it would go away, part of me really believed I could shake it. Being in Seminary throws this dilemma into sharp relief. Studying God, reading about God, meditating on God, praying to God, learning about God. Knowing we're supposed to look to Jesus as who we model our life after, but at the end of the day, I'm definitely still not Jesus.
Christian or not, we all have to deal with our uglier side eventually. Some people deny the ways they're messed up, some prefer to blame others, some come to hate themselves because they can't get rid of their brokenness, some celebrate their flaws and perhaps even flaunt them. All I'm hoping to do is look them straight in the eye, let them know I see them, and quit buying into the lie that I'll ever get past all my weaknesses.
The flawed and the joyful parts of me have been ignored and diminished far too long this fall. It's time to throw a coup and knock Superwoman off the throne. The funny thing is, I don't even think she'll object too much. There hasn't been any part of me that's enjoyed the overwhelmingly anxious cloud that's been following me around this semester, not even the tyrant that's partly to blame. The pursuit of perfection, marked by setting hopelessly high standards, is not the way to live a life. At least it's not the way I can live my life. I guess it's time to go have fun and maybe even mess up a bit.
9.30.2012
overdrive
I can't tell you where September went, or most of August for that matter. It's slipped right through my fingers and left me sitting on the ground, breathless and trying to recover. I had to post tonight, even though it's short and leaves more questions than answers. (Every month for the past two years, I've written a post. I just can't bring myself to break that now!)
Something more substantial will come soon, just let me catch my breath first.
Something more substantial will come soon, just let me catch my breath first.
8.02.2012
the whirlwind tour of all my homes, part 2
It's a rainy Friday near the end of July, and I'm in a car heading East from Chicago with a dear friend of mine. We pass most of the time through Indiana and western Ohio catching up on our summers, then she drifts into sleep through central and eastern Ohio (not exactly an interesting stretch of highway..). She wakes up as evening starts to fall, the weather clears, and we near the western border of PA.
The tiny, barely noticeable swells of northern Ohio morph into real hill as we cross into Pennsylvania. The combination of hills, forests, and rustic farms sprinkled through the landscape we're passing through makes me feel deep waves of nostalgia for the homes I'm heading towards. Dusk falls and fireflies appear twinkling by the roadside as we drive on. Mist starts to settle into the valleys and dips in the wooded, hilly land around us, and I'm suddenly struck by how badly I've missed all this.
We spend the night in Meadville, PA with our friend and mentor Mollie in her house near our college's campus. In all, we spend about 11 hours with her and her family (most of which are spent sleeping), but it's good to reconnect with them, even through it's brief. The next morning finds us on the road again, this time heading North for western NY. By 10 AM, I'm standing in my fake parents' house in Bemus Point, and Jenna's back on the road, heading to a wedding near Rochester.
And just like that, I've reappeared in the two most significant homes I've had so far.
My short stay near Allegheny's campus in Meadville hardly does justice to the amount of time I lived there or the significant changes I went through there. However, I got three and a half days in Bemus and Jamestown, and I got to see dozens of people (and places) that have helped form me over my years living there. Here's my take on what those homes left me with.
Allegheny College:
College isn't about the classroom. Really. I'm not sure if I knew that going into school, but I certainly did after I left. College is about the relationships I built, the out-of-classroom experiences I had, the choices I made on what to pursue and what to care about, and taking those first hesitant steps towards the kind of life I wanted. The choices I made in college were generally intertwined and influenced by my faith in God and what He's put on my heart - a desire to serve, a passion for social justice, a strong sense of my identity and who I am that gives me the confidence to lead a different kind of life. My time at Allegheny also left me with the understanding that pursuing knowledge, wisdom, and what the "right" thing is for me to do with my life is a messy process filled with doubts, questioning, reassessing. I will never feel completely settled, satisfied, or content in who I am, what I am about, and where I'm heading, but I will make the choice to consistently seek God in all of that.
Jamestown / Bemus Point, NY:
It's nowhere near possible to understand all the ways a person's hometown has shaped and formed them, what it's taught them. I'll keep this as simple as I can, though the influence of this place on me is complex and far-reaching. Growing up here taught me perseverance and to root for the underdog (except when it comes to the NY Yankees...that's a whole different story.) It's taught me to love the simple things and to get outside whenever it's nice out, cause it's probably going to rain or snow later that day.
There are countless people here who have loved me, taken care of me, taught me, challenged me, affirmed me, and walked alongside me. It's the people in this home who I miss more than any place or thing in western NY.
I've come (and am still coming) to see the good in the place I'm from, while choosing to move onto other homes that are far from western NY. I have already lived other places - Allegheny College, Washington DC, Charleston, SC, San Antonio, TX and now Chicago - and will probably end up choosing many others. However, there's only one place I'm from, and that place will always be reflected in me in some small way.
The tiny, barely noticeable swells of northern Ohio morph into real hill as we cross into Pennsylvania. The combination of hills, forests, and rustic farms sprinkled through the landscape we're passing through makes me feel deep waves of nostalgia for the homes I'm heading towards. Dusk falls and fireflies appear twinkling by the roadside as we drive on. Mist starts to settle into the valleys and dips in the wooded, hilly land around us, and I'm suddenly struck by how badly I've missed all this.
We spend the night in Meadville, PA with our friend and mentor Mollie in her house near our college's campus. In all, we spend about 11 hours with her and her family (most of which are spent sleeping), but it's good to reconnect with them, even through it's brief. The next morning finds us on the road again, this time heading North for western NY. By 10 AM, I'm standing in my fake parents' house in Bemus Point, and Jenna's back on the road, heading to a wedding near Rochester.
And just like that, I've reappeared in the two most significant homes I've had so far.
My short stay near Allegheny's campus in Meadville hardly does justice to the amount of time I lived there or the significant changes I went through there. However, I got three and a half days in Bemus and Jamestown, and I got to see dozens of people (and places) that have helped form me over my years living there. Here's my take on what those homes left me with.
Allegheny College:
College isn't about the classroom. Really. I'm not sure if I knew that going into school, but I certainly did after I left. College is about the relationships I built, the out-of-classroom experiences I had, the choices I made on what to pursue and what to care about, and taking those first hesitant steps towards the kind of life I wanted. The choices I made in college were generally intertwined and influenced by my faith in God and what He's put on my heart - a desire to serve, a passion for social justice, a strong sense of my identity and who I am that gives me the confidence to lead a different kind of life. My time at Allegheny also left me with the understanding that pursuing knowledge, wisdom, and what the "right" thing is for me to do with my life is a messy process filled with doubts, questioning, reassessing. I will never feel completely settled, satisfied, or content in who I am, what I am about, and where I'm heading, but I will make the choice to consistently seek God in all of that.
Jamestown / Bemus Point, NY:
It's nowhere near possible to understand all the ways a person's hometown has shaped and formed them, what it's taught them. I'll keep this as simple as I can, though the influence of this place on me is complex and far-reaching. Growing up here taught me perseverance and to root for the underdog (except when it comes to the NY Yankees...that's a whole different story.) It's taught me to love the simple things and to get outside whenever it's nice out, cause it's probably going to rain or snow later that day.
There are countless people here who have loved me, taken care of me, taught me, challenged me, affirmed me, and walked alongside me. It's the people in this home who I miss more than any place or thing in western NY.
I've come (and am still coming) to see the good in the place I'm from, while choosing to move onto other homes that are far from western NY. I have already lived other places - Allegheny College, Washington DC, Charleston, SC, San Antonio, TX and now Chicago - and will probably end up choosing many others. However, there's only one place I'm from, and that place will always be reflected in me in some small way.
7.26.2012
the whirlwind tour of all my homes, part 1
Could somebody please explain to me how it's possible that of all the places I've been this summer - San Antonio, TX, Washington, DC, and Charleston, SC, Chicago feels the hottest?
Most people blame the humidity here. Some blame all the pavement that greedily soaks up and hoards all the heat from the day (as if it won't be getting plenty of heat the next day). Others would point out that Chicago's on the edge of the prairie, so it gets hit with extreme weather all the time.
Whatever the reason, or combination of reasons, I still think it's ridiculous that the northernmost city I've been in all summer has for the most part felt the hottest. Go look at a map. It'll make you rethink all you learned about climate and weather in elementary school, that's for sure. Apparently, getting further away from the equator doesn't guarantee cooler weather (sigh).
Despite all my uncalled for griping about the heat and humidity - my apartment is air-conditioned, after all - it's so good to be back in Chicago and the North! I just got back a few days ago from a quick trip to Charleston to see my parents. My five day vacation flew by, but it was definitely worth all the traveling to get to see them.
If you're thinking I'm finally settled in Chicago for the rest of the summer...think again.
I got back Monday morning and I leave again tomorrow to head east to NEW YORK!
Just to clarify, "New York" is a state, and doesn't primarily refer to a rather large, rather crowded city that inhabits the southeast corner of the Empire State. Some people get confused over this. Don't let yourself be one of them;)
Tomorrow morning, I hop on the L and head downtown to Millennium Station, where I hop on a train that will take me to NW Indiana. A good friend from my days at Allegheny College lives there, Jenna, and we'll be driving East together. We'll stay Friday night at Allegheny (in NW Pennsylvania), then finish the trip into NY the next morning. Before 11 o'clock AM I'll be standing again in the lovely Bemus Point, NY, breathing in the not-quite-as-lovely breeze coming off the lake (imagine fresh air infused with some nice algae and dead fish scents..).
After a few days in my hometown, I'll return to the Windy City for the next couple of weeks before taking off again.
A few days ago, I realized something a little funny about all my travels so far this summer. San Antonio, DC, Charleston, and soon Allegheny and Jamestown....these are all place I've called home at sometime. Without even noticing it, my summer's nomadic adventures have traced a route that took me to every home I've ever had.
Our homes shape us and leave their mark on us in some way, whether we like it or not. Here are some of the ways my many different homes have influenced me:
San Antonio:
Now I'm not exactly a Texan at heart. And that's putting it gently. However, I've spent the majority of two of my summers since '08 in San Antonio, TX, as a nanny for my (now 8 year old) cousin. I hadn't gotten to know this aunt and uncle all that well while growing up due to the distance between NY and TX, but I found myself suddenly part of their immediate family and taking care of the most important thing in their lives. Now I'm at the point where I half-believe Kirsten's my little sister, and I've taught her the most important things I've learned so far in life: make sure to celebrate Dino Day every summer, and it's fine to be super picky when it comes to dating. She's basically set for life now.
Charleston:
I've spent around 3 and half months at my parents house since they moved there in the summer of 2008, broken up into visits lasting anywhere from 5 days to 2 months. Visiting there was pretty odd, at first, and I wasn't willing to consider it anything remotely close to 'home' at first. There's a weird bitterness I had to get over when my parents moved down here - holidays were now spent in an alien place where I didn't know anyone beyond my own family, I didn't know how to get anywhere down here, and I didn't always feel like putting in the effort it takes to acclimate to a new place since everything else in my life was already so transitional.
Beyond that, all my time spent in Charleston was during that odd phase in life where I was not their little kid anymore but was suddenly a grown-up (or at least was forced to start making grown-up decisions). It's just strange to be under your parents' roof when all that is going on, even if it's for a short visit. Part of you loves the security and affirmation you get from being your parents' kid, while the other part of you wants to show you can manage your independence and strike out on your own path. I had to work through a lot of this stuff internally during my time in South Carolina, so that became the home in which I reconciled becoming a grown-up while remaining my parents' child.
Washington, DC:
This was my home for four months, during the fall semester of my Junior Year of undergrad - from Aug. through Dec. of '07. I was studying International Peace and Conflict Resolution at American University in the capital of the world's most powerful nation... exciting enough for you?! There are a lot of things I love about that home, and a lot of new things I got to live out and through. It was my first time living in a major city. I became really close to the class of 14 students who were studying in this program, and we experienced a lot of intense things together, especially our 3-week trip to the former Yugoslavia. We traipsed our way through a region that had been torn apart by war, genocide, and ethnic cleansing barely over a decade earlier, and it changed us all in ways we may not ever fully understand.
After we returned to the US, I had almost two more months in DC to process this and enjoy the rest of my time in that city before returning to Allegheny College. I love the energy, the passion, the persistence, the impossibly high dreams and goals that float around that city. It's intoxicating and motivating, in a way, but can also wear a soul out and make a person lose sight of what actually matters, what's actually real.
I'll leave my processing of my other two homes for another day. I haven't made my summer trips there yet, after all, and I could use a little reminder of all they've taught me so far.
Most people blame the humidity here. Some blame all the pavement that greedily soaks up and hoards all the heat from the day (as if it won't be getting plenty of heat the next day). Others would point out that Chicago's on the edge of the prairie, so it gets hit with extreme weather all the time.
Whatever the reason, or combination of reasons, I still think it's ridiculous that the northernmost city I've been in all summer has for the most part felt the hottest. Go look at a map. It'll make you rethink all you learned about climate and weather in elementary school, that's for sure. Apparently, getting further away from the equator doesn't guarantee cooler weather (sigh).
Despite all my uncalled for griping about the heat and humidity - my apartment is air-conditioned, after all - it's so good to be back in Chicago and the North! I just got back a few days ago from a quick trip to Charleston to see my parents. My five day vacation flew by, but it was definitely worth all the traveling to get to see them.
If you're thinking I'm finally settled in Chicago for the rest of the summer...think again.
I got back Monday morning and I leave again tomorrow to head east to NEW YORK!
Just to clarify, "New York" is a state, and doesn't primarily refer to a rather large, rather crowded city that inhabits the southeast corner of the Empire State. Some people get confused over this. Don't let yourself be one of them;)
Tomorrow morning, I hop on the L and head downtown to Millennium Station, where I hop on a train that will take me to NW Indiana. A good friend from my days at Allegheny College lives there, Jenna, and we'll be driving East together. We'll stay Friday night at Allegheny (in NW Pennsylvania), then finish the trip into NY the next morning. Before 11 o'clock AM I'll be standing again in the lovely Bemus Point, NY, breathing in the not-quite-as-lovely breeze coming off the lake (imagine fresh air infused with some nice algae and dead fish scents..).
After a few days in my hometown, I'll return to the Windy City for the next couple of weeks before taking off again.
A few days ago, I realized something a little funny about all my travels so far this summer. San Antonio, DC, Charleston, and soon Allegheny and Jamestown....these are all place I've called home at sometime. Without even noticing it, my summer's nomadic adventures have traced a route that took me to every home I've ever had.
Our homes shape us and leave their mark on us in some way, whether we like it or not. Here are some of the ways my many different homes have influenced me:
San Antonio:
Now I'm not exactly a Texan at heart. And that's putting it gently. However, I've spent the majority of two of my summers since '08 in San Antonio, TX, as a nanny for my (now 8 year old) cousin. I hadn't gotten to know this aunt and uncle all that well while growing up due to the distance between NY and TX, but I found myself suddenly part of their immediate family and taking care of the most important thing in their lives. Now I'm at the point where I half-believe Kirsten's my little sister, and I've taught her the most important things I've learned so far in life: make sure to celebrate Dino Day every summer, and it's fine to be super picky when it comes to dating. She's basically set for life now.
Charleston:
I've spent around 3 and half months at my parents house since they moved there in the summer of 2008, broken up into visits lasting anywhere from 5 days to 2 months. Visiting there was pretty odd, at first, and I wasn't willing to consider it anything remotely close to 'home' at first. There's a weird bitterness I had to get over when my parents moved down here - holidays were now spent in an alien place where I didn't know anyone beyond my own family, I didn't know how to get anywhere down here, and I didn't always feel like putting in the effort it takes to acclimate to a new place since everything else in my life was already so transitional.
Beyond that, all my time spent in Charleston was during that odd phase in life where I was not their little kid anymore but was suddenly a grown-up (or at least was forced to start making grown-up decisions). It's just strange to be under your parents' roof when all that is going on, even if it's for a short visit. Part of you loves the security and affirmation you get from being your parents' kid, while the other part of you wants to show you can manage your independence and strike out on your own path. I had to work through a lot of this stuff internally during my time in South Carolina, so that became the home in which I reconciled becoming a grown-up while remaining my parents' child.
Washington, DC:
This was my home for four months, during the fall semester of my Junior Year of undergrad - from Aug. through Dec. of '07. I was studying International Peace and Conflict Resolution at American University in the capital of the world's most powerful nation... exciting enough for you?! There are a lot of things I love about that home, and a lot of new things I got to live out and through. It was my first time living in a major city. I became really close to the class of 14 students who were studying in this program, and we experienced a lot of intense things together, especially our 3-week trip to the former Yugoslavia. We traipsed our way through a region that had been torn apart by war, genocide, and ethnic cleansing barely over a decade earlier, and it changed us all in ways we may not ever fully understand.
After we returned to the US, I had almost two more months in DC to process this and enjoy the rest of my time in that city before returning to Allegheny College. I love the energy, the passion, the persistence, the impossibly high dreams and goals that float around that city. It's intoxicating and motivating, in a way, but can also wear a soul out and make a person lose sight of what actually matters, what's actually real.
I'll leave my processing of my other two homes for another day. I haven't made my summer trips there yet, after all, and I could use a little reminder of all they've taught me so far.
6.30.2012
a nomadic summer in the making
As I write this, it's 10:30 a.m. and the temperature has already soared into the mid-90s. Texas has succeeded in completely throwing off my internal temperature..the mid-90s feels normal by now. I return to the North in a little under a week (not that Chicago's much cooler at the moment). However, there's at least hope for some relief from the heat there.
I can't even tell you how much I'm looking forward to a cold, rainy, grey day.
I'm also excited to get home. Chicago somehow managed to become that for me in four short (packed) months. I miss the people there, I miss my apartment, I miss the social life, and I miss having a city at my doorstep. When I get back, I have eight whole days to enjoy it before I leave again:)
Somehow, this summer has turned into a series of trips away from home. My trip to San Antonio, which is nearly over, is the longest by far (at six and a half weeks). A little over a week after I return to Chicago, I'll leave for DC for a couple days for a faith-rooted organizing training that Sojourners is holding. I get back from that on the 17th and leave for Charleston on the 18th for nearly a week to see my parents. Then I'll be back in Chicago for three weeks - hopefully heading to western New York for a long weekend somewhere in there! - before going to Indiana. I'll spend five days in Indiana for a leadership training/retreat with IIRON (Indiana & Illinois Regional Organizing Network) in preparation for my internship next year. The day after I get back from that (Aug. 18th) I fly out to Seattle, where I'll meet up with my friend Ellie (from North Park) and possibly our friend Sam to drive Ellie's car to Chicago for the fall semester. Then we drive over 2,000 miles to get back to Chicago by the 21st, since we need to help out with Orientation for the new students...
And then my fall semester begins.
Just like that, my whirlwind of a summer will be closed out and I'll revert to school-mode. Until then, there's a lot of fun to be had and many, many places to go:) I'll be traveling to or through about a dozen states and seeing all sorts of people I love and have missed.
Once in a while, I get a thought in the back of my mind that living nomadically isn't practical, it isn't "financially astute", and it must be a phase, because really, who lives this way forever? I'm sure as I get older I'll have times when I'm more rooted and grounded in one place, one community, one neighborhood, one set of friends/family/neighbors, but I can't imagine giving up the traveler within. Without even meaning to - without realizing it, even - I filled my summer with trips and adventures away from home because I love that and I want that. Although I call Chicago 'home' and before that considered Jamestown / Bemus / Camp Mission Meadows / Allegheny College home, part of my 'home' is also on the road. It's grounded in change, new sights and people, discovery, new understandings of what's beautiful and inspiring - and that is something I find when I travel.
Home is great, but the road still owns a part of me.
I can't even tell you how much I'm looking forward to a cold, rainy, grey day.
I'm also excited to get home. Chicago somehow managed to become that for me in four short (packed) months. I miss the people there, I miss my apartment, I miss the social life, and I miss having a city at my doorstep. When I get back, I have eight whole days to enjoy it before I leave again:)
Somehow, this summer has turned into a series of trips away from home. My trip to San Antonio, which is nearly over, is the longest by far (at six and a half weeks). A little over a week after I return to Chicago, I'll leave for DC for a couple days for a faith-rooted organizing training that Sojourners is holding. I get back from that on the 17th and leave for Charleston on the 18th for nearly a week to see my parents. Then I'll be back in Chicago for three weeks - hopefully heading to western New York for a long weekend somewhere in there! - before going to Indiana. I'll spend five days in Indiana for a leadership training/retreat with IIRON (Indiana & Illinois Regional Organizing Network) in preparation for my internship next year. The day after I get back from that (Aug. 18th) I fly out to Seattle, where I'll meet up with my friend Ellie (from North Park) and possibly our friend Sam to drive Ellie's car to Chicago for the fall semester. Then we drive over 2,000 miles to get back to Chicago by the 21st, since we need to help out with Orientation for the new students...
And then my fall semester begins.
Just like that, my whirlwind of a summer will be closed out and I'll revert to school-mode. Until then, there's a lot of fun to be had and many, many places to go:) I'll be traveling to or through about a dozen states and seeing all sorts of people I love and have missed.
Once in a while, I get a thought in the back of my mind that living nomadically isn't practical, it isn't "financially astute", and it must be a phase, because really, who lives this way forever? I'm sure as I get older I'll have times when I'm more rooted and grounded in one place, one community, one neighborhood, one set of friends/family/neighbors, but I can't imagine giving up the traveler within. Without even meaning to - without realizing it, even - I filled my summer with trips and adventures away from home because I love that and I want that. Although I call Chicago 'home' and before that considered Jamestown / Bemus / Camp Mission Meadows / Allegheny College home, part of my 'home' is also on the road. It's grounded in change, new sights and people, discovery, new understandings of what's beautiful and inspiring - and that is something I find when I travel.
Home is great, but the road still owns a part of me.
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