The last three months have been packed to the hilt with newness, challenges, and a myriad of experiences. It's often felt like I'm standing in a snow globe, and God just picked it up and started shaking it til all I could see was the swirling white flakes, spinning frantically around me. Each flake was something new, someone new, someplace new, a new piece of information, a new observation, a new thought, a new feeling, a new connection.
I think God made us all - even the people who love adventures - so we seek out stability, peace, and solid ground in something, someplace, or someone eventually. That rooted, at-home feeling is something we all desire at the end of the day. Excitement, variety, adventure, and newness are all wonderful, but we eventually want to find our niche and start digging in with our roots.
Near the end of this semester, I'm still being hit in the face sometimes with new flakes, but the spinning has slowed down. Picture after a blizzard when the frozen, sparkling snow is softly settling to the ground. The torrential wind has died down, and you can start to discern the landscape around you again. You can start to pick out familiar landmarks, and you're back to comprehending your environment.
My surroundings at North Park, in Chicago, maybe even in the Midwest (..maybe that's a bit of a stretch) are starting to make sense and feel familiar. I'm beginning to gain a glimmer of understanding and focus on where I fit in the midst of this community, this neighborhood. There's still plenty that will change and evolve over the rest of my time here, however long that is, but I have begun letting down some small roots into this new soil.
4.16.2012
4.04.2012
faith-rooted organizing
This is a blog post I wrote for my Mobilizing for Justice class. I attended a Faith-rooted Organizing conference this February, and this is my reflection on it. Enjoy:)
“See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” Matt. 10:16
Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Alexia Salvatierra, facilitator of the 2-day Faith-Rooted Organizing conference I attended at South Loop Community Church in February, continually referenced this scripture throughout our time together. Community organizing can be a handful; trying to connect all sorts of diverse people in a community to advocate for change in an organized fashion is quite a feat. Alexia has been involved with faith-rooted community organizing (specifically the Christian faith, just to clarify) in many different facets over the years. Over just a couple days, she managed to lay out a solid foundation regarding how the faith component is so essential and valuable in efforts to organize. Some people argue that approaching organizing from a faith perspective can compromise the effort, as Christian values (of loving your enemies, of doing all things with righteousness and integrity) can make it tricky when choosing to attack an unjust system or structure. How do you lovingly confront someone who is perpetrating an injustice? However, her constant reminder to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves serves as a model for how Christians can boldly, wisely, strategically – yet still lovingly – live out our biblical mandate to “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
As someone who wants to work in faith-based nonprofit organizations, the material and strategies I learned from this conference were exceptionally relevant. The talks and discussions insightfully demonstrated how faith-rooted organizing has much to offer in the struggle against the unjust systems and structure we face today. I learned the basic components of organizing [goals, analysis, strategies, recruitment, leadership development and leadership sustaining] in addition to the essential components the faith factor brings to the table.
Instead of inhibiting the organizing effort, faith-rootedness ultimately enhances it in huge ways. The faith perspective has a lot to offer a group of people who are working together against an organization, corporation, or system that has markedly more financial resources and hard power than the community organizers will ever have. Faith offers an entirely different understanding of the situation when the odds seem stacked against you. For starters, its definitions of wealth and power differ from the standard definitions of those words in our culture. In the Christian context, wealth does not have to do with just money, and power is not exclusively in the hands of those at the top. Faith-rootedness helps community organizers see the potential power that exists in the hands of the poor and the oppressed. The voices of those who have been systematically wronged and abused hold much power, as they have the right to call out those who have oppressed and harmed them. Those at the top of unjust systems and structures (who appear to be the primary power-brokers) in reality have some severe vulnerabilities, as they reached their position through the exploitation of the weak and the poor. People of faith within the community not only value the oppressed and the marginalized in society, but are called by God to actively stand up for them and empower them to rise up. The rich do not hold a monopoly on power; the people of God bring this understanding to all organizing efforts they engage in.
3.26.2012
spring settles in
I am writing this on a plane, heading to Newark for my best friend's wedding. I guess it takes a situation like a plane ride - when I'm forced to sit still for a few hours but don't feel the least bit inclined to touch my homework yet - to help me make time to write. It seems every minute of March has been filled with something up to this point, and I'm grateful for a little breathing room in my schedule.
The last few weeks have ushered in spring in Chicago. The weather's been abnormal in the best way, reaching temperatures 20 degrees or more above average on most days. I woke up the other day to see a haze of green spreading over all the trees, which has only deepened with time. I've been able to go exploring in my neighborhood often over the last couple of weeks, especially along the river that runs near campus. There are parks and walking/biking paths that run alongside the river, which is a huge saving grace for me. As much as I love my new city, I've always lived in beautiful places where nature and the outdoors were all around me.
My first walk by the river - a few weeks ago, right when the weather began to take a turn towards amazing - left me with a myriad of images in my mind. It was the first spring-like, no jacket, run and play outside sort of day. This is perfect for people watching, which you get plenty of when you go for a walk on a beautiful day in a city park.
The first thing you notice in the parks are the children, who are everywhere. Loud, laughing, screaming, racing each other to the swings, riding their scooters, getting all dirty and sweaty and sun burned.
Then you notice the parents. You notice some differences among them. Some sit quietly, watching their kids from park benches. Others are preoccupied with their phones or other friends. Still others are completely lost in embracing their inner child, sitting up on the monkey bars with their children, forgetting about trying to keep their clothes clean or what time their favorite tv show is on that night.
Next, you notice the dogs, which are all over the place and may cause you to suddenly realize how pet-deprived you are at the moment. Dogs of all sizes and attitudes: some rolling like crazy all over the place, deliriously happy to be outside; some running like their life depended on it after a slimy rubber ball; some trotting alongside their owner, completely subdued and well-behaved.
After you've gotten over your dog-envy and stopped plotting different dognapping scenarios, you notice the bicyclists. Chicago is a pretty bike-friendly city (though you'll hear the occasional story about biking disasters...some funny, some vaguely terrifying). You'll see all sorts of bicyclists. There are the uber-intense bikers, clothed in professional biking garb, racing against a clock you can't see. Not to stereotype, but these are usually guys with sunglasses, backpacks, and no expression on their faces. Next you'll see the cute bicyclist family peddle on by, complete with smiling baby or toddler being towed by their mom or dad's bike. If you're really lucky, you'll even manage to see a guy biking with no hands...texting....like I did. I couldn't decide if I was impressed by his remarkable balance and multi-tasking, or annoyed that he was too focused on his little screen to look up at the beautiful place he was passing through.
While you're walking along, you'll also notice the runners. This is by far the most entertaining part to observe, as people run in a million and a half different ways. You'll see your straight-backed, fist-pumping, jaw-clenched runners who look prepared to run through brick walls and up mountains without breaking stride. Then there are the people running so slow you pass them while walking, their feet hardly leaving the ground, and you can tell they hate every step they're taking. Best of all, you get to see the flailing runners, whose limbs are on the verge of losing control as their feet pound the pavement. [Seeing their crazy running is secretly terrifying - do they know they look like this when they run? What do we look like when we're running?!]
Beyond all those images, there is so much more to see in a city park on a warm spring day. Kites flying, fresh dirt being spread on a baseball diamond, people of all ages playing pick-up soccer games wherever there's enough space, an old man walking slowly on the grass next to the path, hoping to save his knees by avoiding the pavement, a little girl in a pink tutu, holding her parents' hands.
This is what I see in my new neighborhood, my new home. These things aren't particularly new or unique on their own, but my walk that day was renewing, refreshing. It's good to see the city become livelier, lighter, more like a real community that lives and plays together as winter fades away and spring settles in.
The last few weeks have ushered in spring in Chicago. The weather's been abnormal in the best way, reaching temperatures 20 degrees or more above average on most days. I woke up the other day to see a haze of green spreading over all the trees, which has only deepened with time. I've been able to go exploring in my neighborhood often over the last couple of weeks, especially along the river that runs near campus. There are parks and walking/biking paths that run alongside the river, which is a huge saving grace for me. As much as I love my new city, I've always lived in beautiful places where nature and the outdoors were all around me.
My first walk by the river - a few weeks ago, right when the weather began to take a turn towards amazing - left me with a myriad of images in my mind. It was the first spring-like, no jacket, run and play outside sort of day. This is perfect for people watching, which you get plenty of when you go for a walk on a beautiful day in a city park.
The first thing you notice in the parks are the children, who are everywhere. Loud, laughing, screaming, racing each other to the swings, riding their scooters, getting all dirty and sweaty and sun burned.
Then you notice the parents. You notice some differences among them. Some sit quietly, watching their kids from park benches. Others are preoccupied with their phones or other friends. Still others are completely lost in embracing their inner child, sitting up on the monkey bars with their children, forgetting about trying to keep their clothes clean or what time their favorite tv show is on that night.
Next, you notice the dogs, which are all over the place and may cause you to suddenly realize how pet-deprived you are at the moment. Dogs of all sizes and attitudes: some rolling like crazy all over the place, deliriously happy to be outside; some running like their life depended on it after a slimy rubber ball; some trotting alongside their owner, completely subdued and well-behaved.
After you've gotten over your dog-envy and stopped plotting different dognapping scenarios, you notice the bicyclists. Chicago is a pretty bike-friendly city (though you'll hear the occasional story about biking disasters...some funny, some vaguely terrifying). You'll see all sorts of bicyclists. There are the uber-intense bikers, clothed in professional biking garb, racing against a clock you can't see. Not to stereotype, but these are usually guys with sunglasses, backpacks, and no expression on their faces. Next you'll see the cute bicyclist family peddle on by, complete with smiling baby or toddler being towed by their mom or dad's bike. If you're really lucky, you'll even manage to see a guy biking with no hands...texting....like I did. I couldn't decide if I was impressed by his remarkable balance and multi-tasking, or annoyed that he was too focused on his little screen to look up at the beautiful place he was passing through.
While you're walking along, you'll also notice the runners. This is by far the most entertaining part to observe, as people run in a million and a half different ways. You'll see your straight-backed, fist-pumping, jaw-clenched runners who look prepared to run through brick walls and up mountains without breaking stride. Then there are the people running so slow you pass them while walking, their feet hardly leaving the ground, and you can tell they hate every step they're taking. Best of all, you get to see the flailing runners, whose limbs are on the verge of losing control as their feet pound the pavement. [Seeing their crazy running is secretly terrifying - do they know they look like this when they run? What do we look like when we're running?!]
Beyond all those images, there is so much more to see in a city park on a warm spring day. Kites flying, fresh dirt being spread on a baseball diamond, people of all ages playing pick-up soccer games wherever there's enough space, an old man walking slowly on the grass next to the path, hoping to save his knees by avoiding the pavement, a little girl in a pink tutu, holding her parents' hands.
This is what I see in my new neighborhood, my new home. These things aren't particularly new or unique on their own, but my walk that day was renewing, refreshing. It's good to see the city become livelier, lighter, more like a real community that lives and plays together as winter fades away and spring settles in.
2.19.2012
when 'home' reaches me in chicago
Five and a half weeks here in Chicago. I feel as though I blinked and over a month of my life just flew on right by me, but at the same time, it's hard to believe I haven't been here much longer. As you can tell, I'm still a little disoriented by all the shifts that have occurred around me. New home, new friends, new daily rhythm, new weather, new city...same me, for the most part. I don't have much of an idea of how I'll be changing in my new circumstances, though I have an idea of who I'm becoming.
Despite the unrelenting waves of change, there have been a few moments over the past month where I was surprised by a piece of home, or at least familiarity, popping up out of nowhere and reminding me that there is some constancy in all of this. During all these times, I was struck by this feeling of ease and naturalness, where I could completely drop the act of trying-learning-adjusting-meeting-analyzing-making good impressions-putting forth effort-intentionality that is part of life when you've just begun a new chapter.
One of the first times this natural, familiar feeling swept over me was...oddly enough...in the gym. A bunch of the Seminary students play basketball two days a week, and I've been going since my first week here. When I was on the court (maybe the second week in), it struck me why I had been loving my time playing basketball so far. The basketball court was a place where I could effortlessly, naturally, just be myself. I knew the rules to basketball; they didn't change from New York to Illinois. I didn't have to put forth a constant effort to be friendly and engaging and social so I could get to know people....it's basketball. You just play. The other players are automatically going to accept you as long as you try hard and aren't some show-off punk who never passes the ball. And in the meantime, while I was completely at ease to be myself in a setting that's been a part of my life since as long as I've been old enough to dribble a ball around my driveway, I naturally started forming some friendships. Who wouldn't want to make friends when we're all elbowing each other in the face/gut/arm and wheezing because none of us are in as good of shape as we should be?!
Another place where the feeling of home touched me was in the Seminary's chapel, where the Most Beautiful Thing in the World lives.....a Steinway piano. Well. I guess that's a close second, right after the Spirit of God. It's absolutely lovely. The chapel's open all day, so as long as there's not a service or lecture going on there, it's sitting quietly waiting for me to come by.
Strangely, I feel completely at ease whenever I'm walking around my new city or riding the L. I guess I feel at home whenever I'm exploring someplace new. I've taken the L to different parts of Chicago a few times now - to visit Angela at DePaul, to go to the Covenant conference near the O'Hare airport, and to the northern edge of the Southside for a conference on faith-based organizing - and I can't imagine getting tired of discovering new parts of this city. I love seeing all the people, walking down streets and by buildings that hold more history than I could ever unravel, and just being a part of this incredible buzzing, bright, ever-moving, ever-creating mass of humanity that make up this huge community.
One day last week, my class was cancelled (is there ever a better surprise than that?) so I was walking down Foster Ave towards the pharmacy. As I walked along, I had this irrepressible bounce in my step as I traveled through my new neighborhood, which I'm coming to love. My mind always goes into active mode while I walk - thinking through things, processing what's around me, and/or praying. [I've had a lot of good walks with God, often in cemeteries. Since most everyone around you is dead in a cemetery, it's easy to have undistracted conversations. Also, you get reminded of your mortality again....and again....and again, which can also encourage you to talk to God..]
People, cars, sounds, all of this is rushing by me as I walk, thinking about how simple it can be to blend into the background in a city. Anonymity and isolation are easiest when you're surrounded by an overwhelming sea of distractions and characters. I feel just the tiniest tug of loneliness - not a bad loneliness, more like an awareness of being by myself at the moment - when I hear a siren behind me, getting louder by the second. A little old woman in front of me, wearing a purple coat with the hood up, turns slowly around to see the source of the calamitous noise coming our way. As I pass by her, walking a million miles per hour (as usual), I hear her voice. I don't have much of an idea of what she's saying, but I turn back to look at her and see if she is addressing me. [I like to think she said "I wonder if they're coming after me," and based on what I understood from our conversation, I may not be far off the mark.]
She talks again, louder, but not looking at me. I slow down a bit, then stop. She starts speaking again, looking directly at me now. Her thick accent is Eastern European, her old voice is a bit crackly, and her head is approximately 4 1/2 feet off the ground, so you'll forgive me if I had trouble following the story she tells me. The Reader's Digest version of what I interpreted: she went to a church down the street for dinner (it was 1:45 in the afternoon..), got (or didn't get) some food, wanted to take cookies home but they didn't let her (again...not sure how much of this is accurate....but she did say cookies at least a dozen times and seemed quite annoyed), and they told her if she wanted more food to come back at 6:30. She got mad, took her money, and left.
Whatever she says, I just nod and smile and make generic comments back, since I don't want to make her repeat everything 8 times and still not understand it. As we walk slowly together towards the pharmacy on the corner, she abruptly changes the subject on me. "You are Polish?" comes out of her mouth, and I can't help but smile. This old woman on this busy street in this new city, where I often feel everything is so unfamiliar, new, or changing, could take one look at my face and correctly guess my ethnic heritage. I tell her she's right, that my father's family was 100% Polish, and then she tells me she is Greek. She asks me my name. She tells me her name is Patricia. I tell her about being a student at North Park, and her only question about school is if I'd met any Greek people there yet. When we reach the pharmacy, we smile and wave as we say good-bye, and I walk off feeling like a little piece of home has just reached out and pierced me in the midst of this brand-new life.
Despite the unrelenting waves of change, there have been a few moments over the past month where I was surprised by a piece of home, or at least familiarity, popping up out of nowhere and reminding me that there is some constancy in all of this. During all these times, I was struck by this feeling of ease and naturalness, where I could completely drop the act of trying-learning-adjusting-meeting-analyzing-making good impressions-putting forth effort-intentionality that is part of life when you've just begun a new chapter.
One of the first times this natural, familiar feeling swept over me was...oddly enough...in the gym. A bunch of the Seminary students play basketball two days a week, and I've been going since my first week here. When I was on the court (maybe the second week in), it struck me why I had been loving my time playing basketball so far. The basketball court was a place where I could effortlessly, naturally, just be myself. I knew the rules to basketball; they didn't change from New York to Illinois. I didn't have to put forth a constant effort to be friendly and engaging and social so I could get to know people....it's basketball. You just play. The other players are automatically going to accept you as long as you try hard and aren't some show-off punk who never passes the ball. And in the meantime, while I was completely at ease to be myself in a setting that's been a part of my life since as long as I've been old enough to dribble a ball around my driveway, I naturally started forming some friendships. Who wouldn't want to make friends when we're all elbowing each other in the face/gut/arm and wheezing because none of us are in as good of shape as we should be?!
Another place where the feeling of home touched me was in the Seminary's chapel, where the Most Beautiful Thing in the World lives.....a Steinway piano. Well. I guess that's a close second, right after the Spirit of God. It's absolutely lovely. The chapel's open all day, so as long as there's not a service or lecture going on there, it's sitting quietly waiting for me to come by.
Strangely, I feel completely at ease whenever I'm walking around my new city or riding the L. I guess I feel at home whenever I'm exploring someplace new. I've taken the L to different parts of Chicago a few times now - to visit Angela at DePaul, to go to the Covenant conference near the O'Hare airport, and to the northern edge of the Southside for a conference on faith-based organizing - and I can't imagine getting tired of discovering new parts of this city. I love seeing all the people, walking down streets and by buildings that hold more history than I could ever unravel, and just being a part of this incredible buzzing, bright, ever-moving, ever-creating mass of humanity that make up this huge community.
One day last week, my class was cancelled (is there ever a better surprise than that?) so I was walking down Foster Ave towards the pharmacy. As I walked along, I had this irrepressible bounce in my step as I traveled through my new neighborhood, which I'm coming to love. My mind always goes into active mode while I walk - thinking through things, processing what's around me, and/or praying. [I've had a lot of good walks with God, often in cemeteries. Since most everyone around you is dead in a cemetery, it's easy to have undistracted conversations. Also, you get reminded of your mortality again....and again....and again, which can also encourage you to talk to God..]
People, cars, sounds, all of this is rushing by me as I walk, thinking about how simple it can be to blend into the background in a city. Anonymity and isolation are easiest when you're surrounded by an overwhelming sea of distractions and characters. I feel just the tiniest tug of loneliness - not a bad loneliness, more like an awareness of being by myself at the moment - when I hear a siren behind me, getting louder by the second. A little old woman in front of me, wearing a purple coat with the hood up, turns slowly around to see the source of the calamitous noise coming our way. As I pass by her, walking a million miles per hour (as usual), I hear her voice. I don't have much of an idea of what she's saying, but I turn back to look at her and see if she is addressing me. [I like to think she said "I wonder if they're coming after me," and based on what I understood from our conversation, I may not be far off the mark.]
She talks again, louder, but not looking at me. I slow down a bit, then stop. She starts speaking again, looking directly at me now. Her thick accent is Eastern European, her old voice is a bit crackly, and her head is approximately 4 1/2 feet off the ground, so you'll forgive me if I had trouble following the story she tells me. The Reader's Digest version of what I interpreted: she went to a church down the street for dinner (it was 1:45 in the afternoon..), got (or didn't get) some food, wanted to take cookies home but they didn't let her (again...not sure how much of this is accurate....but she did say cookies at least a dozen times and seemed quite annoyed), and they told her if she wanted more food to come back at 6:30. She got mad, took her money, and left.
Whatever she says, I just nod and smile and make generic comments back, since I don't want to make her repeat everything 8 times and still not understand it. As we walk slowly together towards the pharmacy on the corner, she abruptly changes the subject on me. "You are Polish?" comes out of her mouth, and I can't help but smile. This old woman on this busy street in this new city, where I often feel everything is so unfamiliar, new, or changing, could take one look at my face and correctly guess my ethnic heritage. I tell her she's right, that my father's family was 100% Polish, and then she tells me she is Greek. She asks me my name. She tells me her name is Patricia. I tell her about being a student at North Park, and her only question about school is if I'd met any Greek people there yet. When we reach the pharmacy, we smile and wave as we say good-bye, and I walk off feeling like a little piece of home has just reached out and pierced me in the midst of this brand-new life.
1.22.2012
my chicago story: the beginning
It's been nine and a half days since moving into my new apartment, at my new campus, in my new city, in my new state, in my new time zone....
so I guess it's time for a little update. Consider yourself warned: this won't be a nicely cohesive, deeply thought out, reflective piece of writing. I had time for that during my two-month sabbatical from Real Life, when my biggest responsibility during a typical day was taking my dog for a walk or cooking dinner. This will be more like random snapshots of my new life, as it's gone so far.. and then I have to get back to homework.
My new digs:
Let's start with my apartment. I live in an on-campus apartment building that's reserved for seminary students, with six total apartments in it. My roommates - Kelly and Carrie - are fantastic. They're both second-year seminary students who helped make me feel at home in my new place almost immediately. I got here last Friday, unloaded all my stuff [have I mentioned lately that my parents are great? Cause they are. They drove a 1700+ mile roundtrip over one weekend to help me move most of my stuff up here, through some lovely weather, I might add, then proceeded to buy half of Target for me so I'd have food, pillows, and other essentials. Like peppermint patties.], and I unpacked and settled in over the next few days.
Oh, and you may be wondering about my apartment's location? Right in the middle of campus, less than a minute's walk to the gym, on the same street as four friends from camp, and less than five minutes' walk to any of my classes. WIN.
The people:
Now, if you know me well at all, you'll know I've had to say good-bye to a lot of amazing people over the last few months (including maybe you?). I'm not one to dwell on good-byes, get all misty eyed, or sink into despair when I have to leave people - but I had to leave so many of them. It was harder than I knew it'd be, but it almost always is.
Luckily, I knew I'd be going to a place filled with some pretty incredible people. I'm sure it's not exactly a surprise to hear that all the people I've met so far have been welcoming and kind to the new girl. (This is God school, after all.) It's been awhile since I've been the new kid on the block, and I'm not at all comfortable in that role. The way my life's been - particularly in college, working at my church, and working at camp - I'm used to being the one welcoming people and making them feel at home. Like anyone else, I like intuitively understanding my environment and knowing what my niche is.
Also, I'm a super-relational person. Shallow, surface-level friendships don't do much for me. I know there's always some of those in a person's life, but I don't thrive on them. At this point, I've been here a week and a half. There are a few people I'm getting to know well, and I'm seeing a lot of potential in those friendships, but most of the people I run into are friendly faces whose name I only remember about 80% of the time. I'm looking forward to the day when I'm comfortable enough with everyone around me that I can admit my life isn't all sunshine and rainbows and shooting stars. (I think that day will be here soon.)
The classes:
This is the part that's probably least exciting to you....and to me, actually....so I'll keep it short. Classes - interesting. Professors - smart (and, bonus points! they actually care if we succeed). Homework - laaaame. It's a lot of reading, analyzing, and writing, which I'm used to, but it's all on subjects I haven't studied before. I mean, I've read the Bible, obviously. I've even preached and led discussions on it. But the academic setting - all the terms and ways of thinking about these things - it's all pretty unfamiliar right now. It'll get better. My ratio of work to play is wayyy unbalanced at the moment, as I'm trying to get used to all this, but I'm still making sure I have some fun:)
That's all I have time for right now. My Business Ethics textbook and book on Preaching are calling to me from across the room, so I have to go hang out with them for a bit. I hope this helps you see a little window into my new life. I'm still feeling pretty great about this new adventure - God's been unceasingly good to me through it all - and I wish you all the best, wherever you are.
so I guess it's time for a little update. Consider yourself warned: this won't be a nicely cohesive, deeply thought out, reflective piece of writing. I had time for that during my two-month sabbatical from Real Life, when my biggest responsibility during a typical day was taking my dog for a walk or cooking dinner. This will be more like random snapshots of my new life, as it's gone so far.. and then I have to get back to homework.
My new digs:
Let's start with my apartment. I live in an on-campus apartment building that's reserved for seminary students, with six total apartments in it. My roommates - Kelly and Carrie - are fantastic. They're both second-year seminary students who helped make me feel at home in my new place almost immediately. I got here last Friday, unloaded all my stuff [have I mentioned lately that my parents are great? Cause they are. They drove a 1700+ mile roundtrip over one weekend to help me move most of my stuff up here, through some lovely weather, I might add, then proceeded to buy half of Target for me so I'd have food, pillows, and other essentials. Like peppermint patties.], and I unpacked and settled in over the next few days.
Oh, and you may be wondering about my apartment's location? Right in the middle of campus, less than a minute's walk to the gym, on the same street as four friends from camp, and less than five minutes' walk to any of my classes. WIN.
The people:
Now, if you know me well at all, you'll know I've had to say good-bye to a lot of amazing people over the last few months (including maybe you?). I'm not one to dwell on good-byes, get all misty eyed, or sink into despair when I have to leave people - but I had to leave so many of them. It was harder than I knew it'd be, but it almost always is.
Luckily, I knew I'd be going to a place filled with some pretty incredible people. I'm sure it's not exactly a surprise to hear that all the people I've met so far have been welcoming and kind to the new girl. (This is God school, after all.) It's been awhile since I've been the new kid on the block, and I'm not at all comfortable in that role. The way my life's been - particularly in college, working at my church, and working at camp - I'm used to being the one welcoming people and making them feel at home. Like anyone else, I like intuitively understanding my environment and knowing what my niche is.
Also, I'm a super-relational person. Shallow, surface-level friendships don't do much for me. I know there's always some of those in a person's life, but I don't thrive on them. At this point, I've been here a week and a half. There are a few people I'm getting to know well, and I'm seeing a lot of potential in those friendships, but most of the people I run into are friendly faces whose name I only remember about 80% of the time. I'm looking forward to the day when I'm comfortable enough with everyone around me that I can admit my life isn't all sunshine and rainbows and shooting stars. (I think that day will be here soon.)
The classes:
This is the part that's probably least exciting to you....and to me, actually....so I'll keep it short. Classes - interesting. Professors - smart (and, bonus points! they actually care if we succeed). Homework - laaaame. It's a lot of reading, analyzing, and writing, which I'm used to, but it's all on subjects I haven't studied before. I mean, I've read the Bible, obviously. I've even preached and led discussions on it. But the academic setting - all the terms and ways of thinking about these things - it's all pretty unfamiliar right now. It'll get better. My ratio of work to play is wayyy unbalanced at the moment, as I'm trying to get used to all this, but I'm still making sure I have some fun:)
That's all I have time for right now. My Business Ethics textbook and book on Preaching are calling to me from across the room, so I have to go hang out with them for a bit. I hope this helps you see a little window into my new life. I'm still feeling pretty great about this new adventure - God's been unceasingly good to me through it all - and I wish you all the best, wherever you are.
1.03.2012
confessions of a new year
Why hello, 2012.
Since there was nothing I could do to stop you from coming, even if I wanted to, I've decided to welcome you.
So the year I turn a quarter of a century old, move to Chicago, and start both God school and Business school has arrived. 2012 is merely 3 days old, and it's already got me all stirred up about the changes that are about to spring up in my life. Before I get all wrapped up in the new adventures I'm rushing into, I want to take a second to pause, sit down, and look backward at what I've discovered over the last year - especially these last two months or so during my vacation from Real Life. The way I see it, in order to find out what I'm looking for in life and where I'm heading, I better know where I am right now.
Here are a few confessions of what I've found out about myself (and things far beyond me) recently.
In honor of the millions of New Years resolutions around the world concerning exercise this time of years, let's start with this one:
1). Running is awful.
I've been trying to convince myself for over a year now that I enjoy running. Alright, 25% of the time, it's ok. The other 75%? It's terrible!
I don't mind running if there's a purpose to it, like kicking a soccer ball or chasing down a frisbee. Running just for the sake of running? Siick. The heart pounding so hard you just know it's on the verge of bursting, the lungs gasping for air but never getting enough, the cramp in your side that won't go away, so you just grit your teeth and run through the pain.
2). Running is great!
Here's the catch - no matter how much I sometimes despise running, I have to keep it up. It's not just because it's good for my body, either. Running teaches me things all the time.
It teaches me to push beyond my own limits and exceed the goals I've set. When I've been running for a while and feel myself starting to slow down, I immediately start looking for some landmark in the distance I can stop at. I push and I push some more, and suddenly, I'm there. And I realize I haven't dropped dead yet. In fact, I can go just a bit farther, and then a bit farther after that. By the time I stop to stretch or walk, I've reminded myself again to never underestimate what I can do.
Running also teaches me that sometimes the present is just brutal, but the only way to make it to a better future is to just. keep. going. One foot. The other foot. Keep breathing. Train your eyes ahead of you, never behind or down. If I gave in every time things got hard and refused to put some effort into pushing through it, I would never gain even a tiny bit of strength or determination.
3). Everyone loses their minds sometimes, and it's ok.
The past two months of my vacation from Real Life, besides giving me time to finally rest up and get ready for the jump into 4(ish) years of graduate school, left me with plenty of time inside my own head.
Now I'm a relatively stable, sane person. Ask any of my close friends over the years, and they'll vouch that I barely even have tear ducts. I don't run around seeking, creating, or stirring up drama. Emotional crises are so rare within me, I can hardly even recognize them when they try to attack.
However, two months of more downtime and solitude than I've experienced since... um... ever.... is bound to mess with a girl's head.
The simple truth is, our minds are screwed up places sometimes. We can treat ourselves far more harshly than we'd ever treat another human being, even a stranger. Things get twisted, broken, even poisoned in our heads if we don't watch ourselves. And when your mind's a mess, you're inevitably going to take it out on some unlucky person who crosses paths with you.
The good news is, we're all crazy like this sometimes. It's nice to know there are plenty of other loonies out there - an estimated 7 billion - who go through similar self-induced agony like yours and mine. So next time you start beating yourself up for one crazy reason or another, do yourself a favor and find someone to hang out with who's nicer to you than you are to yourself (which at that point might be anyone. Really, anyone. Just try not to mention to a stranger who you're introducing yourself to that you're currently involved in mentally abusing...yourself. Leave that conversation for the next time you two are hanging out.)
4). Growing up's not hard to do.
Think about it. Think how many Grownups there are in your town, city, state, country, the world; they're EVERYWHERE. Bunches and bunches of them. Hordes of them. It's clearly not difficult to become one. Take a second to think of all the... not-so-smart... Grownups you know. If they can become a Grownup, you can too, so try not to stress out about wondering if or when you'll really become a Grownup.
5). Leading a Grownup life you love is hard to do.
I'm not talking about just being contented or satisfied with your Grownup life. I'm talking about living a richly inspired joy-filled Grownup life.
Let's be honest, the American Dream for the Grownup has some serious flaws. It's hardly even worth going over all the misconceptions it's spread, but here's a quick run through:
*Money isn't everything. If fact, it often makes things much, much worse.
*Having tons of stuff is just going to weigh you down (both literally and in your soul).
*Appearance never matters in the long run. A pretty face masking a rotten heart; a picture perfect house in which a family has broken to pieces; the absurdly impressive resume of a person who's never enjoyed their job, not even for a day. All those beautiful-looking things are empty and lifeless, and will eventually be revealed as such.
Have you met a Grownup who genuinely loves their life? I hope so. It's a pretty great thing. Without even noticing exactly when or how, they've become the person they were designed to be. They're comfortable with who they are and have this natural understanding of how to live fully, richly, joyfully.
I'm not entirely sure how to do this yet, but I'm somewhere on my way towards this. I think it has a lot to do with searching out who you are without letting people or forces compel you to turn a different way. Sometimes people can help you through this process, as long as they're genuinely interested in helping you discover your passions and dreams. Others will try to push you towards paths that aren't yours, usually thinking they're "helping" you or teaching you "how the world works."
Why should we ever care how the world works if it's not "working" in a way that inspires us? Let's all do ourselves a favor this new year and stop trying to make ourselves fit molds we were never created to fit. Take a little time to find within yourself the things that make you ignite and glow, then strive to become the person you always knew you wanted to be. Don't ever settle for anything less.
Happy New Year everyone, and I hope this next trip around the sun is unbelievably good to you.
Since there was nothing I could do to stop you from coming, even if I wanted to, I've decided to welcome you.
So the year I turn a quarter of a century old, move to Chicago, and start both God school and Business school has arrived. 2012 is merely 3 days old, and it's already got me all stirred up about the changes that are about to spring up in my life. Before I get all wrapped up in the new adventures I'm rushing into, I want to take a second to pause, sit down, and look backward at what I've discovered over the last year - especially these last two months or so during my vacation from Real Life. The way I see it, in order to find out what I'm looking for in life and where I'm heading, I better know where I am right now.
Here are a few confessions of what I've found out about myself (and things far beyond me) recently.
In honor of the millions of New Years resolutions around the world concerning exercise this time of years, let's start with this one:
1). Running is awful.
I've been trying to convince myself for over a year now that I enjoy running. Alright, 25% of the time, it's ok. The other 75%? It's terrible!
I don't mind running if there's a purpose to it, like kicking a soccer ball or chasing down a frisbee. Running just for the sake of running? Siick. The heart pounding so hard you just know it's on the verge of bursting, the lungs gasping for air but never getting enough, the cramp in your side that won't go away, so you just grit your teeth and run through the pain.
2). Running is great!
Here's the catch - no matter how much I sometimes despise running, I have to keep it up. It's not just because it's good for my body, either. Running teaches me things all the time.
It teaches me to push beyond my own limits and exceed the goals I've set. When I've been running for a while and feel myself starting to slow down, I immediately start looking for some landmark in the distance I can stop at. I push and I push some more, and suddenly, I'm there. And I realize I haven't dropped dead yet. In fact, I can go just a bit farther, and then a bit farther after that. By the time I stop to stretch or walk, I've reminded myself again to never underestimate what I can do.
Running also teaches me that sometimes the present is just brutal, but the only way to make it to a better future is to just. keep. going. One foot. The other foot. Keep breathing. Train your eyes ahead of you, never behind or down. If I gave in every time things got hard and refused to put some effort into pushing through it, I would never gain even a tiny bit of strength or determination.
3). Everyone loses their minds sometimes, and it's ok.
The past two months of my vacation from Real Life, besides giving me time to finally rest up and get ready for the jump into 4(ish) years of graduate school, left me with plenty of time inside my own head.
Now I'm a relatively stable, sane person. Ask any of my close friends over the years, and they'll vouch that I barely even have tear ducts. I don't run around seeking, creating, or stirring up drama. Emotional crises are so rare within me, I can hardly even recognize them when they try to attack.
However, two months of more downtime and solitude than I've experienced since... um... ever.... is bound to mess with a girl's head.
The simple truth is, our minds are screwed up places sometimes. We can treat ourselves far more harshly than we'd ever treat another human being, even a stranger. Things get twisted, broken, even poisoned in our heads if we don't watch ourselves. And when your mind's a mess, you're inevitably going to take it out on some unlucky person who crosses paths with you.
The good news is, we're all crazy like this sometimes. It's nice to know there are plenty of other loonies out there - an estimated 7 billion - who go through similar self-induced agony like yours and mine. So next time you start beating yourself up for one crazy reason or another, do yourself a favor and find someone to hang out with who's nicer to you than you are to yourself (which at that point might be anyone. Really, anyone. Just try not to mention to a stranger who you're introducing yourself to that you're currently involved in mentally abusing...yourself. Leave that conversation for the next time you two are hanging out.)
4). Growing up's not hard to do.
Think about it. Think how many Grownups there are in your town, city, state, country, the world; they're EVERYWHERE. Bunches and bunches of them. Hordes of them. It's clearly not difficult to become one. Take a second to think of all the... not-so-smart... Grownups you know. If they can become a Grownup, you can too, so try not to stress out about wondering if or when you'll really become a Grownup.
5). Leading a Grownup life you love is hard to do.
I'm not talking about just being contented or satisfied with your Grownup life. I'm talking about living a richly inspired joy-filled Grownup life.
Let's be honest, the American Dream for the Grownup has some serious flaws. It's hardly even worth going over all the misconceptions it's spread, but here's a quick run through:
*Money isn't everything. If fact, it often makes things much, much worse.
*Having tons of stuff is just going to weigh you down (both literally and in your soul).
*Appearance never matters in the long run. A pretty face masking a rotten heart; a picture perfect house in which a family has broken to pieces; the absurdly impressive resume of a person who's never enjoyed their job, not even for a day. All those beautiful-looking things are empty and lifeless, and will eventually be revealed as such.
Have you met a Grownup who genuinely loves their life? I hope so. It's a pretty great thing. Without even noticing exactly when or how, they've become the person they were designed to be. They're comfortable with who they are and have this natural understanding of how to live fully, richly, joyfully.
I'm not entirely sure how to do this yet, but I'm somewhere on my way towards this. I think it has a lot to do with searching out who you are without letting people or forces compel you to turn a different way. Sometimes people can help you through this process, as long as they're genuinely interested in helping you discover your passions and dreams. Others will try to push you towards paths that aren't yours, usually thinking they're "helping" you or teaching you "how the world works."
Why should we ever care how the world works if it's not "working" in a way that inspires us? Let's all do ourselves a favor this new year and stop trying to make ourselves fit molds we were never created to fit. Take a little time to find within yourself the things that make you ignite and glow, then strive to become the person you always knew you wanted to be. Don't ever settle for anything less.
Happy New Year everyone, and I hope this next trip around the sun is unbelievably good to you.
12.11.2011
traveling into the heart of the South
I have officially survived nearly six weeks in Dixieland, with four and a half more weeks til I move to Chicago.
Right after my last blog, I had a week of family time. Our Christthanksgivingmas 2011 weeklong celebration went well. As my family has aged, either we've gotten saner or we behave better because it's so infrequent for us all to be together. Whatever the reason, it was a good week. My brother and his girlfriend, Hollie, flew over from Corvallis, OR and my sister came here from Carbondale, CO. Once I move to Chicago, my family will have successfully taken over all four time zones! Next goal: let's start taking over the continents. Dibs on Antarctica.
Anyways, after the week of Christthanksgivingmas, I decided I needed to take a little break from SC. I've started carving out a small niche here for myself, but it still isn't home, and I wanted to go spend time with a couple of friends who also inhabit these strange Southern lands. Also, all this time down here without having friends nearby has been so odd. I needed a living, breathing reminder that my friends still exist in this world!
So, a week after my siblings left Summerville, I hopped in the car for my last solo roadtrip before moving to Chicago. [Sidenote: in the last month and a half, I've roadtripped through 9 states and driven about 2,423 miles! Oh, how I'll miss my car in Chicago.] I drove South on I-95 til Jacksonville, FL, then cut across the panhandle on I-10 to Pensacola, FL. If you're from the North and want to know what driving across the FL panhandle is like, picture driving across Ohio, only it's a good bit warmer and sunnier. I-10 is dreadfully flat and boring, and I decided very quickly that I'd be finding a different route home.
I reached Pensacola that evening a little after sunset and found my friend Kristen's home. I met Kristen at Mission Meadows five and a half years ago (yikes! I am getting up there in years...). She was a senior at Grove City College at the time, and I was going into my sophomore year at Allegheny. I consider her my first real "grown-up" friend. After graduating from Grove City, she got a grown-up job and an apartment of her own. Meanwhile, I was still a punk college kid who hadn't had a taste of real life yet. We'd meet up a few times a year and catch up over dinner in Meadville or Grove City.
Kristen moved down to FL in the fall of 2010 and married Ben, who she'd met in Beaver Falls, PA a few years earlier. Ben's training to be a pilot in the Navy, and they live near the naval base in Pensacola. The last time I'd seen Kristen was in the summer of '10 right before she moved. Since then, I'd wanted to come visit her in her new home and life, and my two month vacation from life in the South gave me the perfect chance to finally see her.
Friday night, Kristen and I went to dinner at the Fish House, one of her favorite restaurants in Pensacola. I had some world famous Grits a Ya-Ya (not 100% sure that's the name) that have been featured on all sorts of cooking shows. They were aMAZing. The next day, she showed me around where she lives and we watched some college football with her husband.
Ok. One thing I've learned about Southerners is they LIVE AND DIE for their college football. They're straight up crazy about it. They fly their team's flags on their houses and cars. They disappear from the world on Saturday afternoons to stare wide-eyed at their TV screens and yell all sorts of awful things at the television. And don't even try to talk about anything other than football on Saturdays! They won't have it.
I left their house during the LSU game, hoping the traffic would be lighter because of the game and widespread addiction to football. Success! I got to Foley, AL after an easy 40 minute drive.
In Foley, I stayed at the Peters' house. Their (biological) son, Jesse, and (unbiological) son, Jeff, are also friends of mine from camp. They'd both said I should come visit Foley sometime, and I couldn't imagine a better time to go see them than now.
The Peters' house is not your typical place. Jesse and Jeff have both called it a community house, while Robin and John (Jesse's parents) insist it's just a family home. I guess it's somewhere in between.
My first impression of their house was pretty wild. I pulled up to the curb and the first thing I saw was this perfect little fenced-in garden at the side of house. Walking in, I met the Peters family and noticed the "family" Thanksgiving dinner I'd been told about was set up to seat maybe 30 people, give or take a few. That night alone, I met a couple dozen people and watched a little community/family celebrate their second Thanksgiving this year. By the next day, I felt completely at home there (which is saying something, since the South and I have had a rocky relationship so far).
Over the next week, I got to be a part of life in the Peters household and go all around Southern Alabama. I'd never been to Bama before, and it was so good to be somewhere new. Southern AL has a certain charm to it, in a different way than Charleston does. It's not as redneck as snobby Northerners would expect, and it's not as commercialized as the FL gulf coast (thank goodness). It's beautiful in its relaxed, coastal, small town, big-hearted, raw, uncomplicated, comfortable, hospitable way. Not to say it doesn't have its fair share of struggles like anywhere else - there's plenty of poverty and other issues beneath the surface - but there were a lot of unexpected good things there as well.
The greatest thing about the trip was the people I met and spent time with. The Peters family is pretty wonderful, and their house is a meeting place for so many different folks from their community (or people connected to someone there). The house varies from boisterous chaos to unexpected tranquility, and there can be great advantages to both those circumstances and everything else in between. Personally, I've had enough time to myself over the first month of my stay down South to last me a while, so I loved the ever-shifting, lively crew of people passing through the doors of the Peters' home.
And now I'm back in Summerville. I'm writing this in an overstuffed easy chair with my dog curled up next to me and enough peace and quiet I could easily share it with a few people. It'd be nice if it worked that way - send tranquility to the half-crazed people running themselves ragged in their hopped-up lives, and send some crazy to those who have accidentally overdosed on silence and solitude.
As much as I crave balance in my life, that's just not how it is at the moment. Two months of too much peace and quiet down here (split in half by one much-welcomed week of crazy in AL!), and then I head to Chicago. Life is going to be all sorts of madness there for a while as I settle into my brand-new city and school. Til then, I guess I'll just continue to store up some energy and get ready for the whirlwind on the horizon.
Right after my last blog, I had a week of family time. Our Christthanksgivingmas 2011 weeklong celebration went well. As my family has aged, either we've gotten saner or we behave better because it's so infrequent for us all to be together. Whatever the reason, it was a good week. My brother and his girlfriend, Hollie, flew over from Corvallis, OR and my sister came here from Carbondale, CO. Once I move to Chicago, my family will have successfully taken over all four time zones! Next goal: let's start taking over the continents. Dibs on Antarctica.
Anyways, after the week of Christthanksgivingmas, I decided I needed to take a little break from SC. I've started carving out a small niche here for myself, but it still isn't home, and I wanted to go spend time with a couple of friends who also inhabit these strange Southern lands. Also, all this time down here without having friends nearby has been so odd. I needed a living, breathing reminder that my friends still exist in this world!
So, a week after my siblings left Summerville, I hopped in the car for my last solo roadtrip before moving to Chicago. [Sidenote: in the last month and a half, I've roadtripped through 9 states and driven about 2,423 miles! Oh, how I'll miss my car in Chicago.] I drove South on I-95 til Jacksonville, FL, then cut across the panhandle on I-10 to Pensacola, FL. If you're from the North and want to know what driving across the FL panhandle is like, picture driving across Ohio, only it's a good bit warmer and sunnier. I-10 is dreadfully flat and boring, and I decided very quickly that I'd be finding a different route home.
I reached Pensacola that evening a little after sunset and found my friend Kristen's home. I met Kristen at Mission Meadows five and a half years ago (yikes! I am getting up there in years...). She was a senior at Grove City College at the time, and I was going into my sophomore year at Allegheny. I consider her my first real "grown-up" friend. After graduating from Grove City, she got a grown-up job and an apartment of her own. Meanwhile, I was still a punk college kid who hadn't had a taste of real life yet. We'd meet up a few times a year and catch up over dinner in Meadville or Grove City.
Kristen moved down to FL in the fall of 2010 and married Ben, who she'd met in Beaver Falls, PA a few years earlier. Ben's training to be a pilot in the Navy, and they live near the naval base in Pensacola. The last time I'd seen Kristen was in the summer of '10 right before she moved. Since then, I'd wanted to come visit her in her new home and life, and my two month vacation from life in the South gave me the perfect chance to finally see her.
Friday night, Kristen and I went to dinner at the Fish House, one of her favorite restaurants in Pensacola. I had some world famous Grits a Ya-Ya (not 100% sure that's the name) that have been featured on all sorts of cooking shows. They were aMAZing. The next day, she showed me around where she lives and we watched some college football with her husband.
Ok. One thing I've learned about Southerners is they LIVE AND DIE for their college football. They're straight up crazy about it. They fly their team's flags on their houses and cars. They disappear from the world on Saturday afternoons to stare wide-eyed at their TV screens and yell all sorts of awful things at the television. And don't even try to talk about anything other than football on Saturdays! They won't have it.
I left their house during the LSU game, hoping the traffic would be lighter because of the game and widespread addiction to football. Success! I got to Foley, AL after an easy 40 minute drive.
In Foley, I stayed at the Peters' house. Their (biological) son, Jesse, and (unbiological) son, Jeff, are also friends of mine from camp. They'd both said I should come visit Foley sometime, and I couldn't imagine a better time to go see them than now.
The Peters' house is not your typical place. Jesse and Jeff have both called it a community house, while Robin and John (Jesse's parents) insist it's just a family home. I guess it's somewhere in between.
My first impression of their house was pretty wild. I pulled up to the curb and the first thing I saw was this perfect little fenced-in garden at the side of house. Walking in, I met the Peters family and noticed the "family" Thanksgiving dinner I'd been told about was set up to seat maybe 30 people, give or take a few. That night alone, I met a couple dozen people and watched a little community/family celebrate their second Thanksgiving this year. By the next day, I felt completely at home there (which is saying something, since the South and I have had a rocky relationship so far).
Over the next week, I got to be a part of life in the Peters household and go all around Southern Alabama. I'd never been to Bama before, and it was so good to be somewhere new. Southern AL has a certain charm to it, in a different way than Charleston does. It's not as redneck as snobby Northerners would expect, and it's not as commercialized as the FL gulf coast (thank goodness). It's beautiful in its relaxed, coastal, small town, big-hearted, raw, uncomplicated, comfortable, hospitable way. Not to say it doesn't have its fair share of struggles like anywhere else - there's plenty of poverty and other issues beneath the surface - but there were a lot of unexpected good things there as well.
The greatest thing about the trip was the people I met and spent time with. The Peters family is pretty wonderful, and their house is a meeting place for so many different folks from their community (or people connected to someone there). The house varies from boisterous chaos to unexpected tranquility, and there can be great advantages to both those circumstances and everything else in between. Personally, I've had enough time to myself over the first month of my stay down South to last me a while, so I loved the ever-shifting, lively crew of people passing through the doors of the Peters' home.
And now I'm back in Summerville. I'm writing this in an overstuffed easy chair with my dog curled up next to me and enough peace and quiet I could easily share it with a few people. It'd be nice if it worked that way - send tranquility to the half-crazed people running themselves ragged in their hopped-up lives, and send some crazy to those who have accidentally overdosed on silence and solitude.
As much as I crave balance in my life, that's just not how it is at the moment. Two months of too much peace and quiet down here (split in half by one much-welcomed week of crazy in AL!), and then I head to Chicago. Life is going to be all sorts of madness there for a while as I settle into my brand-new city and school. Til then, I guess I'll just continue to store up some energy and get ready for the whirlwind on the horizon.
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