It's Christmas night and I'm exhausted, but I don't want the day to pass me by without really grasping the reality of it. Most of our holidays have become over commercialized... people more concerned with buying cards and gifts than appreciating the true meaning behind the holiday. Christmas is no different... we rush around to send Christmas cards, decorate the house, buy gifts, attend the Christmas parties, pretend to be Santa for the kids... it's every where.
The funny thing is, Christmas started in something resembling more like a stable when a virgin teenage girl had a baby. There was no Santa, no house decorations, no cards or reindeer. Some of our Christmas traditions started with thoughts of Christianity, but they've been so distorted some of us don't even know what Christmas really means. Christmas is the day we celebrate Jesus' birth. The part that is hard to understand (or maybe believe) is Jesus is God's son but came to earth with a greater plan that would ultimately be fulfilled through Easter. No one really expected God's son to come through a poor teenager in a barn, but humans screw up and God was gracious enough to send his Son to cover up for us... (an understatement). Either way I want to remember why I woke up at the butt crack of dawn to open presents and spent the day with family chaos rather than sitting in my office staring at a computer all day.
Discovering Christmas
A man hated church, but he loved ducks. But his ducks were really dumb ducks. They wouldn't go south when winter came. He fretted as each day got colder, and they weaker. He tried to put grain down leading into his barn, where they would be safe, but they wouldn't have any of it. He left the doors open at night, and put lights on inside, and they didn't even notice. It grew colder as the days went by, and the duck lover pondered and thought. He played music inside. He put Fox decoys all around outside. In frustration, he finally tried to herd them into his barn, but the more he waved and shouted, the more afraid the dumb ducks got, and fled further away from the warmth and the food their loving duck shepherd was offering them.
Our poor duck shepherd fell to his knees sobbing, knowing these ducks would soon die now, and nothing he could do would help them- nothing, because he was unfathomable to them, and they feared him. He thought, "If only I could be one of them, I could show them, communicate to them, and they would accept me, and not be afraid of me, and I could bring them to safety, warmth, shelter- to a place I myself have prepared for them. Just then he heard the bells for Christmas eve services, and realized for the first time what that babe in Bethlehem was all about...
Sidenote... babble about prayer...
I think about prayer a lot. Someone gets sick and we ask for prayer. Sometimes we pray for our food before we eat it. Occasionally we are hit with an emergency and throw up a prayer out of desperation. I'm not always sure how effective my prayers are, but I have to trust that they're being heard. Unfortunately the examples of prayer that we put out there aren't always good ones. In a lot of churches, prayer is a speech with a lot of churchy words like "redemption" and "wherefore shall" and "calvary" that are not found in our typical conversation. I think prayer is a way to communicate with God... so it doesn't have to be wordy or churchy or stiff... I don't think God's impressed by it. Prayer is like calling my best friend to talk... or maybe writing a letter is easier than talking... there are no rules... I just think it should be real...
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
graduation
I attended my 8th Methodist College/University graduation yesterday. As an employee at Methodist some might not find that very surprising, but I've only attended two as an employee. I was a student when I attended four of them (one being my own) and came back for two others. I've become quite the Methodist graduation connoisseur over the last six years.
In the beginning graduation was a bit more like a burden because I had finished my exams and was anxious to get home. Eventually my friends started graduating and it was nice to at least see them walk the stage. Unlike most bachelor's degrees, Methodist has a hooding ceremony. Graduates choose a "sponsor", ideally someone who has aided them during their college career, to walk across the stage with them and place the hood around their neck. During the three ceremonies I watched before my own, my favorite part was always seeing who people picked to hood them. Most people choose their mom or dad, so when it was my turn I had to be different. My aunt was a recent cancer survivor and I had grown particularly close to her during her treatments and asked her to be my sponsor. I think she thought I was an alcoholic (get it? sponsor for AA? ok never mind) but I assured her I just needed her to come to graduation. It was such a big deal to me and I hope my aunt felt the importance. I'm not sure Methodist does a very good job at explaining the significance to graduates who haven't attended a ceremony. Regardless, I will always cherish my own graduation and am grateful to my aunt for participating in the occasion!
Even after I graduated I still look forward to seeing everyone's sponsor. There are always oohs and aahs for the graduates who have their young children hood them or quiet chuckles when a 5 foot mom has to try to hood her 6'5 son (slight exaggeration). On Saturday the first graduate's sponsor was listed incorrectly... the sponsor was announced as the graduate's wife while an older man hooded him. Insert nervous laughter here. I was honored to be asked to hood a graduate but a bit nervous to be on the other end. I sat next to a guy hooding his brother. The graduate kept telling his brother he had written him down as his significant other. Lauren wanted to write down I was her lover. I would have loved to have seen the president's face after that one. Of course I think I surprised him enough being a hooder in my cap and gown as he tried to remember who I was. Good times.
Summary... hooding is a big deal to me. It's a big deal to see students walk the stage who wanted to quit but kept going. It's a big deal to be able to walk behind them and feel a part of the moment. And it's an even bigger deal that I did it in heels without falling! :)
In the beginning graduation was a bit more like a burden because I had finished my exams and was anxious to get home. Eventually my friends started graduating and it was nice to at least see them walk the stage. Unlike most bachelor's degrees, Methodist has a hooding ceremony. Graduates choose a "sponsor", ideally someone who has aided them during their college career, to walk across the stage with them and place the hood around their neck. During the three ceremonies I watched before my own, my favorite part was always seeing who people picked to hood them. Most people choose their mom or dad, so when it was my turn I had to be different. My aunt was a recent cancer survivor and I had grown particularly close to her during her treatments and asked her to be my sponsor. I think she thought I was an alcoholic (get it? sponsor for AA? ok never mind) but I assured her I just needed her to come to graduation. It was such a big deal to me and I hope my aunt felt the importance. I'm not sure Methodist does a very good job at explaining the significance to graduates who haven't attended a ceremony. Regardless, I will always cherish my own graduation and am grateful to my aunt for participating in the occasion!
Even after I graduated I still look forward to seeing everyone's sponsor. There are always oohs and aahs for the graduates who have their young children hood them or quiet chuckles when a 5 foot mom has to try to hood her 6'5 son (slight exaggeration). On Saturday the first graduate's sponsor was listed incorrectly... the sponsor was announced as the graduate's wife while an older man hooded him. Insert nervous laughter here. I was honored to be asked to hood a graduate but a bit nervous to be on the other end. I sat next to a guy hooding his brother. The graduate kept telling his brother he had written him down as his significant other. Lauren wanted to write down I was her lover. I would have loved to have seen the president's face after that one. Of course I think I surprised him enough being a hooder in my cap and gown as he tried to remember who I was. Good times.
Summary... hooding is a big deal to me. It's a big deal to see students walk the stage who wanted to quit but kept going. It's a big deal to be able to walk behind them and feel a part of the moment. And it's an even bigger deal that I did it in heels without falling! :)
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
slow as molasses...
I've been slacking... big time. I haven't done as well keeping in touch with my long distance friends. I haven't been running (ok when did I ever do that on a regular basis... but still). I haven't posted a blog in awhile either.
For some, blogs are stupid. For some, blogs are a way to eavesdrop on their myspace "friends'" lives. For some, blogs are a survey posting system or a lyrics proclaimer. For me, they have been a way to release... sometimes a way to share... but usually a way to get out what I can't get off my mind. Sometimes I delve too deep or sometimes maybe not deep enough.
Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I have a lot to be thankful for in my life. I had the opportunity to go home for a couple of days and I was determined to spend the time with my family. I did some Christmas shopping with my mom, had a movie night with my sister and hung out with the fam Thanksgiving day. I hadn't been home since the beginning of August so it was just comforting to be back on the shore. Sometimes I take home for granted but I'll always have a special place in my heart for the shore. My older brother and sister are crazy in their own ways but I'm so grateful for our relationships. As weird as our family is with siblings 22 years apart and a nephew older than his aunt... I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanksgiving always ends up being a bit of a tease because my trip home is so short making me anticipate Christmas even more. I can't wait to go home again in a couple of weeks and visit friends and family. Of course whenever you see people you haven't seen in awhile, and you're 25 years old, everyone's bound to ask about your marital prospects. It's always fun to explain you're still single, or maybe you have to explain what happened to the guy you were dating the last time you saw them. Every time I think I'm ok with being single, I have to re-convince myself when I explain it to everyone else.
I was talking to a friend last week about finding "the one." There are a lot of people that say you'll find him/her when you least expect it or when you stop looking. I do believe sometimes we try too hard or we settle for stupid relationships just to be in a relationship. On the other hand, if I just sit in my office 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, the chances are slim that "the one" will waltz into my life. We say to let go of our problems and give them over to God, and I agree we shouldn't worry, but if I need a job, I still have to send out my resume, or make some connections to find a job opportunity. I'm not planning on sending my relationship resume to all the single guys in the world, but I am going to be satisfied with where I am in my life while still pursuing things/people that will enrich my life. I'm thankful for the people in my life and I'm praying that some day God will bless me with a husband that will only add to the blessings I already have. I just have to keep convincing myself! :)
Completely random sidenote... on the way home for thanksgiving, I was in my third accident in a year. Thankfully everyone was safe. You can't even really see a whole lot of damage from the exterior but a cute little neon slid right up underneath my car and managed to do almost $3,000 worth of damage. By the way, none of the accidents have been my fault. I think in the five and a half years I've owned the CRV, I've almost replaced the entire car. Have no fear, it's in the shop and should be fixed sometime before 2008. In the meantime, I'm hitch hiking around Fayetteville thanks to some great chauffeurs. I appreciate the help kids!
Okay one more random sidenote... sometimes people will surprise you. I'm sometimes afraid to completely trust people, but I want to give you a shot... at the same time I don't want to get hurt. I think I've learned not to cut someone out before you give them a chance. Sometimes living here hasn't always been dreamy, but "monarchs forever" has given me a new outlook on what can be in a group of friends. I'm "forever" grateful.
For some, blogs are stupid. For some, blogs are a way to eavesdrop on their myspace "friends'" lives. For some, blogs are a survey posting system or a lyrics proclaimer. For me, they have been a way to release... sometimes a way to share... but usually a way to get out what I can't get off my mind. Sometimes I delve too deep or sometimes maybe not deep enough.
Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I have a lot to be thankful for in my life. I had the opportunity to go home for a couple of days and I was determined to spend the time with my family. I did some Christmas shopping with my mom, had a movie night with my sister and hung out with the fam Thanksgiving day. I hadn't been home since the beginning of August so it was just comforting to be back on the shore. Sometimes I take home for granted but I'll always have a special place in my heart for the shore. My older brother and sister are crazy in their own ways but I'm so grateful for our relationships. As weird as our family is with siblings 22 years apart and a nephew older than his aunt... I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanksgiving always ends up being a bit of a tease because my trip home is so short making me anticipate Christmas even more. I can't wait to go home again in a couple of weeks and visit friends and family. Of course whenever you see people you haven't seen in awhile, and you're 25 years old, everyone's bound to ask about your marital prospects. It's always fun to explain you're still single, or maybe you have to explain what happened to the guy you were dating the last time you saw them. Every time I think I'm ok with being single, I have to re-convince myself when I explain it to everyone else.
I was talking to a friend last week about finding "the one." There are a lot of people that say you'll find him/her when you least expect it or when you stop looking. I do believe sometimes we try too hard or we settle for stupid relationships just to be in a relationship. On the other hand, if I just sit in my office 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, the chances are slim that "the one" will waltz into my life. We say to let go of our problems and give them over to God, and I agree we shouldn't worry, but if I need a job, I still have to send out my resume, or make some connections to find a job opportunity. I'm not planning on sending my relationship resume to all the single guys in the world, but I am going to be satisfied with where I am in my life while still pursuing things/people that will enrich my life. I'm thankful for the people in my life and I'm praying that some day God will bless me with a husband that will only add to the blessings I already have. I just have to keep convincing myself! :)
Completely random sidenote... on the way home for thanksgiving, I was in my third accident in a year. Thankfully everyone was safe. You can't even really see a whole lot of damage from the exterior but a cute little neon slid right up underneath my car and managed to do almost $3,000 worth of damage. By the way, none of the accidents have been my fault. I think in the five and a half years I've owned the CRV, I've almost replaced the entire car. Have no fear, it's in the shop and should be fixed sometime before 2008. In the meantime, I'm hitch hiking around Fayetteville thanks to some great chauffeurs. I appreciate the help kids!
Okay one more random sidenote... sometimes people will surprise you. I'm sometimes afraid to completely trust people, but I want to give you a shot... at the same time I don't want to get hurt. I think I've learned not to cut someone out before you give them a chance. Sometimes living here hasn't always been dreamy, but "monarchs forever" has given me a new outlook on what can be in a group of friends. I'm "forever" grateful.
Friday, October 26, 2007
sleeplessness
Current mood: sleepy
There is the occasional night I find my head hitting the pillow and I fall right to sleep. Tonight is not one of them. I've found I sleep best when I can clear my head. I've been trying to read before bed in hopes I can escape into a story rather than become lost in my own thoughts racing around when I want to sleep. That one didn't really work tonight. I worked 14 hours today for the third day in a row and my eyes were asking for sleep but my head won't give in.
I think it's conviction. My heart is fighting with my head. I have old friendships that are struggling partially due to my lack of honesty along with my inability to forgive and forget... or maybe I've forgiven but can't seem to forget... but then again do I have to forget? but can I keep the friendship if can't forget? or am I willing to give up the friendship if I have to forget? I have new friendships that I may have screwed up before they even started. I'm still trying to master being honest with tact. I don't have the nerve to say what I really feel and then I start questioning if I should even feel that way. Is this how I really feel or have I let someone talk me into feeling it? Is there a deadline to determine how I really feel?
I'm just babbling hoping my fingers will find the peace my head and heart desire in order to catch a few zzz's tonight. Still searching...
There is the occasional night I find my head hitting the pillow and I fall right to sleep. Tonight is not one of them. I've found I sleep best when I can clear my head. I've been trying to read before bed in hopes I can escape into a story rather than become lost in my own thoughts racing around when I want to sleep. That one didn't really work tonight. I worked 14 hours today for the third day in a row and my eyes were asking for sleep but my head won't give in.
I think it's conviction. My heart is fighting with my head. I have old friendships that are struggling partially due to my lack of honesty along with my inability to forgive and forget... or maybe I've forgiven but can't seem to forget... but then again do I have to forget? but can I keep the friendship if can't forget? or am I willing to give up the friendship if I have to forget? I have new friendships that I may have screwed up before they even started. I'm still trying to master being honest with tact. I don't have the nerve to say what I really feel and then I start questioning if I should even feel that way. Is this how I really feel or have I let someone talk me into feeling it? Is there a deadline to determine how I really feel?
I'm just babbling hoping my fingers will find the peace my head and heart desire in order to catch a few zzz's tonight. Still searching...
Thursday, October 11, 2007
it's that time
Well you knew it was coming. It's that time of year. The last few weeks have held a lot of ups and downs. Not really huge ups or really huge downs... but enough to keep me on my toes. October 15th basketball practice starts. Why is this significant? I enjoy college basketball, but more relevant is the fact that fall sports do not usually end until a month after basketball starts. Basketball practice itself doesn't require much of me... it requires nothing of me really. Sure it means I have rosters to update and photos to take, but the time factor is miniscule. At the end of October we hosted our hoopla frenzy and including an exhibition game the day before, I've worked five basketball events while trying to balance the end of football, men's and women's soccer, volleyball and cross country.
Where's the up to this gripe session? Our women's soccer team went undefeated in conference play... again... allowing us to host the conference tournament. The ups continued with a tournament championship for the first time in school history giving us a bid to the NCAA Tournament... back-to-back bids after eleven years without a peek at postseason play. Of course I had checked the football schedule back in the spring and knew if we were able to get another bid, I would most likely not being able to see the game due to our final football home game that weekend. My fears were relieved when another SID offered to cover for me and my students stepped up to help me out. It seems I'm not very good at hiding my soccer fandom.
I knew going in the game would be tough. Everything we heard told us Roanoke was fast and had a few studs that would put our team to the test. I practiced with the team all week doing anything I could to help the cause. This team has not gone without its fair share of ups and downs this season. Two season-ending injuries to starters, another starter screwing herself off the team and all of a sudden we were down to 16 athletes. I could only hope the adversity would make them stronger.
Somewhere along the way I made some friends. I'm not sure if it's even "legal" to call them that, but the difference from a year ago is crazy. I always give them a hard time for ignoring me last season. Now they probably get sick of my interference... I'm probably too involved. Sometimes I think I want it more than they do. But you know more when you can't have it anymore. I've been able to connect with seniors facing their last game. It's a scary thought that hits you in that final season that you really can't grasp until it's over. As the season starts winding down you start to speak in lasts... my last day of fitness, my last conference tournament, my last tuesday practice... the freshmen don't get it. The sophomores don't really understand and I'm not sure juniors do either. You'd think we'd have a better grasp of it after just being high school seniors. But finishing a high school career is different when you know in a few months you'll be sporting a college uniform. The end of a college career brings more question marks and you wonder if you'll get another chance to play competitively outside of the annual alumni game. As a senior, how do you convince the rest of the team to play like it's their last game too... to forget about the beer back at school, the free weekends to go home or just two afternoons in a row without having to go to practice.
Last night I had to watch four more soccer careers end. It's such a roller coaster of emotions as I replay my own last game and struggle to find words to say something that would make it better. But I can't. I get glassy-eyed and make sure everyone has everything they need. I pat backs and get stats and then I just stand there because that's all I know how to do. I can't talk because then I'd cry. I can't cry because I'm supposed to be the strong one. I don't feel very strong because I know what it's like to play your last game in a Methodist uniform. But hopefully just being there, they know that I know at least a glimpse of what they feel.
A lot of people offer the pat answers... kind of like when someone dies... those responses like well she's in a better place, or at least you had the time with her that you did... they sound good but feel empty when you're the one dealing with loss. I don't mean to say death is the same as ending a collegiate athletic career, but that people respond similarly. After the game, people say well at least you made it this far or at least you got to play in college. Both very true things, but hard to put into perspective minutes after you just took off your cleats.
So I didn't have much to say last night... but I wanted to be there. Welcome them to the club... there are a host of us who have had to hang up the Methodist uniform but we all have choices about what we do afterwards. Some are coaching the game, some are playing in their free time, or maybe teaching their kids to play, and others may never put their cleats on again... but we'll still share the same bond. We wore the uniform, we gave it our all and when it's over we wonder if we did enough...
Where's the up to this gripe session? Our women's soccer team went undefeated in conference play... again... allowing us to host the conference tournament. The ups continued with a tournament championship for the first time in school history giving us a bid to the NCAA Tournament... back-to-back bids after eleven years without a peek at postseason play. Of course I had checked the football schedule back in the spring and knew if we were able to get another bid, I would most likely not being able to see the game due to our final football home game that weekend. My fears were relieved when another SID offered to cover for me and my students stepped up to help me out. It seems I'm not very good at hiding my soccer fandom.
I knew going in the game would be tough. Everything we heard told us Roanoke was fast and had a few studs that would put our team to the test. I practiced with the team all week doing anything I could to help the cause. This team has not gone without its fair share of ups and downs this season. Two season-ending injuries to starters, another starter screwing herself off the team and all of a sudden we were down to 16 athletes. I could only hope the adversity would make them stronger.
Somewhere along the way I made some friends. I'm not sure if it's even "legal" to call them that, but the difference from a year ago is crazy. I always give them a hard time for ignoring me last season. Now they probably get sick of my interference... I'm probably too involved. Sometimes I think I want it more than they do. But you know more when you can't have it anymore. I've been able to connect with seniors facing their last game. It's a scary thought that hits you in that final season that you really can't grasp until it's over. As the season starts winding down you start to speak in lasts... my last day of fitness, my last conference tournament, my last tuesday practice... the freshmen don't get it. The sophomores don't really understand and I'm not sure juniors do either. You'd think we'd have a better grasp of it after just being high school seniors. But finishing a high school career is different when you know in a few months you'll be sporting a college uniform. The end of a college career brings more question marks and you wonder if you'll get another chance to play competitively outside of the annual alumni game. As a senior, how do you convince the rest of the team to play like it's their last game too... to forget about the beer back at school, the free weekends to go home or just two afternoons in a row without having to go to practice.
Last night I had to watch four more soccer careers end. It's such a roller coaster of emotions as I replay my own last game and struggle to find words to say something that would make it better. But I can't. I get glassy-eyed and make sure everyone has everything they need. I pat backs and get stats and then I just stand there because that's all I know how to do. I can't talk because then I'd cry. I can't cry because I'm supposed to be the strong one. I don't feel very strong because I know what it's like to play your last game in a Methodist uniform. But hopefully just being there, they know that I know at least a glimpse of what they feel.
A lot of people offer the pat answers... kind of like when someone dies... those responses like well she's in a better place, or at least you had the time with her that you did... they sound good but feel empty when you're the one dealing with loss. I don't mean to say death is the same as ending a collegiate athletic career, but that people respond similarly. After the game, people say well at least you made it this far or at least you got to play in college. Both very true things, but hard to put into perspective minutes after you just took off your cleats.
So I didn't have much to say last night... but I wanted to be there. Welcome them to the club... there are a host of us who have had to hang up the Methodist uniform but we all have choices about what we do afterwards. Some are coaching the game, some are playing in their free time, or maybe teaching their kids to play, and others may never put their cleats on again... but we'll still share the same bond. We wore the uniform, we gave it our all and when it's over we wonder if we did enough...
rainbows... no not the flip flops
Sometimes I spend a lot of time complaining or being upset about the bad stuff that happens to me... today I even made up the word suckiness to describe my afternoon. Sometimes I have a bad day (cue daniel powter) or a bad week or whatever but I need to keep looking for what good might come out of it. It has to rain in order to find the beauty of a rainbow. I can't predict the future and don't know what's to come at the end of this "rainbow"... but six weeks ago I never would have thought to look for a rainbow because I was so caught up in the storm overhead. Don't miss out on the good that's right in front of you while you're sulking about the bad that should be behind you.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
take off the masks...
I spoke at the methu FCA tonight... or attempted... I coughed through most of it. Hopefully someone heard something worthwhile. A little lengthy, but in case you missed it...
For some of you, this is our first meeting… others may only know me as the chick who takes your picture to put on the website or the one who screws up your stats. I am the Sports Information Director which basically means I manage the athletics portion of the website and maintain all of the sports' statistics. I was a student at Methodist from 2000 to 2003 so while most of the people had cycled through before I returned a year ago, a lot of things are still the same as they were when I was a student.
I've done some research and I think there are a few different reasons for coming here to FCA. Some of you grew up in church and can't stand it but at least the music is good at FCA and if your parents ask this is close enough to church that it will relieve your conscience. Some of you have real relationships with God and use FCA as a worship or fellowship time to grow in that relationship. Some of you saw a hot girl walk in and you just followed hoping you could get her number before the night is over… or maybe you're trying to get her name so you can look her up on facebook afterwards, but at the same time you're wondering what you got yourself into. And there are probably a few that have no interest in FCA, but it's better than sitting in your room all night every night.
When I was a senior in high school I struggled with the college decision. I tried to deny it, but my decision to come to Methodist basically came down to the fact I still wanted to play soccer. I arrived on campus and was thrown into preseason with a group of girls that everyone basically said, here are your friends for the next four years. I had never been a big partier in high school and everyone back home was anxiously awaiting stories of my rebellious nature coming out in drunken nights and run-ins with the police. I was determined to be "me" and yet still fit in. I latched on for dear life with the soccer team but wondered what I had gotten myself into. I had been involved in FCA during high school so the first Tuesday of the year, I convinced my roommate to check it out with me. I made it through that first semester using FCA as a substitute for church and telling myself that I was ok when in reality I felt a bit overwhelmed. I found my journal from my freshman year last night. Scary what a pack rat I am… but it was interesting to say the least. Almost seven years ago tonight, I wrote "It's a Sunday night in the midst of my freshman year of college and I am lost. Lost inside myself. I don't know who I am or what I am doing here. I cannot find a confidant. I cannot succeed in soccer or the classroom. I like it here, I love college, but where do I fit? I haven't been to church in almost three months. I feel so far away from God. I know that once I get back right with him, saying no, being different won't be so hard, but I just have to get to that point." The funny thing is when I re-read it now, I sound silly. I was living in the middle of people waiting for me to open up and share myself with them. I said I wasn't succeeding in soccer or the classroom but I was a starter and tied for the third leading scorer on the team and managed at least a 3.0 GPA that semester. I was obviously overwhelmed, but it wasn't because I didn't have opportunities to step outside of myself and find answers to my struggles.
After surviving my first semester, I decided over Christmas break I needed something else outside of soccer if I was going to last long enough to get a degree. During the second semester I became more involved on campus and branched outside of the soccer team. One Sunday night in early February I was hanging out with some girls in Weaver when I came across a roll of masking tape. I can't really explain my thought process, but the next thing I knew, I was taping my face… not my hair or anything… and I made sure to go around my eyes, nose and mouth, but I covered the rest of my skin. I walked around all night with it like that, acting like I didn't care but eating up any attention that people gave me. I claimed it helped me meet people.
I eventually became a RA, worked with the women's basketball team, served with SGA, led a bible study, and played club lacrosse. I felt like I was involved in everything, I knew everyone, I was constantly surrounded by people but I still felt lonely. My soccer team gave me a hard time for hanging out with those goody goodies from FCA and the FCA crowd thought I was being corrupted by the basketball team. One of my friends called me out and said I was a different person around different groups. I was about to graduate from college and I was still struggling with who I was. In the cave, there is a storage closet I used to raid every Tuesday night my senior year. I would combine the worst possible items to create the ultimate costume. One Tuesday I found an orange ski mask, a yellow rain coat, a plaid tie and stuck a rubber foot coming out of my jacket. I walked the halls of Weaver attempting to encourage people to come to FCA while I got funny looks but inside loving the attention I received. I claimed it was a way to convince people FCA was more fun than a regular church service.
Growing up, I always thought college was where you matured, figured out who you were and met your husband… maybe you learned a thing or two in between. I'm not sure I did any of those things and walked across the stage with my degree still naïve to the realities of life outside the safety net of college.
What's the point of my walk down memory lane? When I look back on it now I can see all the masks I wore as a college student… literally and figuratively. I'm not sure if anyone really knew me. Sometimes I tried so hard to act like I didn't care what people thought that I was even faking that I didn't care. I don't know all of you but I feel like there is such a natural inclination to put on masks and hide from reality or keep a protective barrier between us and reality. We surround ourselves with people, but they don't really know who we are. Some of you are walking around this campus faking it. We pass on the way to class and I ask you how you're doing and you say fine when really you just bombed a test or just had a fight with your boyfriend. Sometimes we spend our nights in alcohol because we feel more comfortable but alcohol can just become another mask that lets us be someone else or lets us forget who we are. We have athlete masks, party masks, Christian masks, class clown masks, slutty masks, etc. depending on who we want to be that day around which people. I think sometimes we subconsciously stop before we enter a building to check our mask. You don't have to answer, but how many of us threw on the FCA mask before walking in tonight? Some of us walk around claiming to be Christians but we're doing more acting than we are being. We spend a lot of time doing the right things… we go to church, we do community service, we put Jesus fish on the backs of our cars, we might even read our Bibles or tell our friends about God… all things that are fine and good. But God didn't ask you to do things to make you look like Christ. He has asked us to get to know Him and through our relationship with God we can be a Christian without having to worry about acting like one. In theory, we wouldn't need a churchy Jesus mask to be a Christian. If that's who we are, it is a part of who we are without a mask.
College is an opportunity to figure out who we are, but too often we pick and choose masks and just interchange them to fit our audience without ever getting to know ourselves let alone, let someone else get to know us. When I was a student, one of my favorite things each week was turning the lights off at FCA while we sang. I craved FCA each week because when the lights went off in the cave and the stars lit up, I felt the distractions disappear and felt a connection to God I couldn't find anywhere else in my life. It felt real when everything else felt fake.
So if we can admit we wear masks… why do we do it? There has to be something motivating us to hide.
- Fear of openness – In John 11:17-37, Jesus just found out his friend Lazarus died and comes to meet his sisters Mary and Martha. In verses 33-36 it says, "When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 'Where have you laid him?' he asked. 'Come and see, Lord,' they replied. Jesus wept. Then the Jews said, 'See how he loved him!'" To cry in front of people takes courage in and of itself. Jesus was the teacher, a supposed healer and yet he shows true compassion and openness when he weeps for his friend's passing. Sometimes we are afraid to be open and let someone in.
- Fear of rejection – Job was a guy who had his life rocked. He lost all of his possessions, his children died, he was covered with sores, his wife doubted his faith and his friends were hanging him out to dry. In Job 19:19-20, Job says, "All my intimate friends detest me; those I love have turned against me. I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped with only the skin of my teeth." Sometimes we feel like Job. Everything bad piles on and we turn around and everyone has left us to fend for ourselves and we become vulnerable. Webster defines vulnerable as open to attack. Sometimes we wear masks because we don't want to leave ourselves open to attack. Or maybe you've been burned before and have built up a wall to prevent it from happening again. When we fear rejection we say things like: "If you really knew me – you may not like me – you may reject me. Since I am afraid of rejection, I can't really get close to you or let you get close to me." and "If I am honest and share my intimate thoughts and ideas and you reject me it will crush me so I can't really get close to you or let you get close to me." Have you been burned before? A lot of times we do put on masks in relationships after we've been burned. If you've been cheated on, how likely is it that you'll dive right into too another relationship ready to share everything about yourself with someone new. We're cautious… sometimes insecure or even suspicious of every new relationship because we just know they're going to cheat too.
So we admit it... we wear the masks and we might even be able to take a look and figure out why we wear the masks, but how do we fix it? I think we have to be transparent.
What does it mean to be transparent? We have to take off the masks. I can't make you believe anything I say, but I have to preface my solution with my beliefs. I believe God made us… so the first step to removing the mask is to figure out who you are in Christ. Let's say you just bought a new iPod from the apple store and you can't get it to work. Are you going to call the Honda car dealership and ask them to fix it? What about McDonald's? Would they be able to help you? They might have a suggestion based on their own experience with an ipod, but your best answer is going to come from the one who made it. You're instinct is going to take you back to the apple store first. I can ask any of you how to take my masks off, and you may have some good advice about how you did it, but the best answer for me is going to come from God who created me to glorify Him.
Sometimes we've piled the masks on top of each other in an attempt to try out different masks making it a little more difficult. Remember my tape face I told you about earlier… Have you ever put tape on your face? Let's just say there's a reason athletic trainers use pre-wrap before they tape your ankle. Sometimes peeling off layers hurts. We don't always want to see what's underneath, but dig deep to figure out who you are outside of the external influences like school, friends, family, etc. We have to be transparent with ourselves before we can be transparent with others. In Paul's first letter to Timothy, he told him, "For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." You're stronger than you think and need to step outside of the fear, though sometimes it's obviously much easier said than done. Ask yourself, Am I being real? What do I want out of life? Am I being who God has called me to be?
Once you've removed the mask, you need to seek out someone(s) who you can trust to hold you accountable. Beyond honesty with yourself, God created us to be relational people. I feel like Methodist is full of a lot of surface friendships. Thanks to sites like facebook and myspace we have tons of "friends" and sometimes we even have daily "conversations" with people online, but when was the last time you sat and really talked to someone about who you are. It's scary to let someone in, but it's an authentic experience. We already know we don't want to be lonely and through Jesus' example, I believe God has called us to be real, and transparent with each other. I don't think we are expected to spill our guts to everyone we meet on the street and I don't believe transparency is an excuse to be so brutally honest that we hurt someone else. I do believe we could benefit from creating real relationships that honor who God has called us to be.
Rebecca St. James is a Christian singer from Australia with a long list of credentials. I've never been a huge fan of her music, but she was interviewed about her newest album and she talked about transparency. She said…
"For a long time, I thought, 'Becca, you've got to just buck up and be strong, you've got to put on a brave face. You've just got to get through this burnout or this discouraging time or this pressure of leadership as a woman in music. You've just got to grit your teeth and get through it.' But God has just so impressed on my heart the truth that vulnerability is powerful. When you take off the mask, you relate at a base level to everyone else who has been through pain. That [transparency] promotes intimacy; it promotes togetherness, relying on God. It promotes a lack of pretense and a true honesty that is just so beautiful… We are so over-independent and, so willing to put on the strong, brave face that everything's okay when it's not."
I challenge us all to take off the masks… myself included. Hold me accountable. Dig deeper with your roommates, your friends, your teammates and your classmates. Get to know yourself and share yourself with others in a real and transparent way.
For some of you, this is our first meeting… others may only know me as the chick who takes your picture to put on the website or the one who screws up your stats. I am the Sports Information Director which basically means I manage the athletics portion of the website and maintain all of the sports' statistics. I was a student at Methodist from 2000 to 2003 so while most of the people had cycled through before I returned a year ago, a lot of things are still the same as they were when I was a student.
I've done some research and I think there are a few different reasons for coming here to FCA. Some of you grew up in church and can't stand it but at least the music is good at FCA and if your parents ask this is close enough to church that it will relieve your conscience. Some of you have real relationships with God and use FCA as a worship or fellowship time to grow in that relationship. Some of you saw a hot girl walk in and you just followed hoping you could get her number before the night is over… or maybe you're trying to get her name so you can look her up on facebook afterwards, but at the same time you're wondering what you got yourself into. And there are probably a few that have no interest in FCA, but it's better than sitting in your room all night every night.
When I was a senior in high school I struggled with the college decision. I tried to deny it, but my decision to come to Methodist basically came down to the fact I still wanted to play soccer. I arrived on campus and was thrown into preseason with a group of girls that everyone basically said, here are your friends for the next four years. I had never been a big partier in high school and everyone back home was anxiously awaiting stories of my rebellious nature coming out in drunken nights and run-ins with the police. I was determined to be "me" and yet still fit in. I latched on for dear life with the soccer team but wondered what I had gotten myself into. I had been involved in FCA during high school so the first Tuesday of the year, I convinced my roommate to check it out with me. I made it through that first semester using FCA as a substitute for church and telling myself that I was ok when in reality I felt a bit overwhelmed. I found my journal from my freshman year last night. Scary what a pack rat I am… but it was interesting to say the least. Almost seven years ago tonight, I wrote "It's a Sunday night in the midst of my freshman year of college and I am lost. Lost inside myself. I don't know who I am or what I am doing here. I cannot find a confidant. I cannot succeed in soccer or the classroom. I like it here, I love college, but where do I fit? I haven't been to church in almost three months. I feel so far away from God. I know that once I get back right with him, saying no, being different won't be so hard, but I just have to get to that point." The funny thing is when I re-read it now, I sound silly. I was living in the middle of people waiting for me to open up and share myself with them. I said I wasn't succeeding in soccer or the classroom but I was a starter and tied for the third leading scorer on the team and managed at least a 3.0 GPA that semester. I was obviously overwhelmed, but it wasn't because I didn't have opportunities to step outside of myself and find answers to my struggles.
After surviving my first semester, I decided over Christmas break I needed something else outside of soccer if I was going to last long enough to get a degree. During the second semester I became more involved on campus and branched outside of the soccer team. One Sunday night in early February I was hanging out with some girls in Weaver when I came across a roll of masking tape. I can't really explain my thought process, but the next thing I knew, I was taping my face… not my hair or anything… and I made sure to go around my eyes, nose and mouth, but I covered the rest of my skin. I walked around all night with it like that, acting like I didn't care but eating up any attention that people gave me. I claimed it helped me meet people.
I eventually became a RA, worked with the women's basketball team, served with SGA, led a bible study, and played club lacrosse. I felt like I was involved in everything, I knew everyone, I was constantly surrounded by people but I still felt lonely. My soccer team gave me a hard time for hanging out with those goody goodies from FCA and the FCA crowd thought I was being corrupted by the basketball team. One of my friends called me out and said I was a different person around different groups. I was about to graduate from college and I was still struggling with who I was. In the cave, there is a storage closet I used to raid every Tuesday night my senior year. I would combine the worst possible items to create the ultimate costume. One Tuesday I found an orange ski mask, a yellow rain coat, a plaid tie and stuck a rubber foot coming out of my jacket. I walked the halls of Weaver attempting to encourage people to come to FCA while I got funny looks but inside loving the attention I received. I claimed it was a way to convince people FCA was more fun than a regular church service.
Growing up, I always thought college was where you matured, figured out who you were and met your husband… maybe you learned a thing or two in between. I'm not sure I did any of those things and walked across the stage with my degree still naïve to the realities of life outside the safety net of college.
What's the point of my walk down memory lane? When I look back on it now I can see all the masks I wore as a college student… literally and figuratively. I'm not sure if anyone really knew me. Sometimes I tried so hard to act like I didn't care what people thought that I was even faking that I didn't care. I don't know all of you but I feel like there is such a natural inclination to put on masks and hide from reality or keep a protective barrier between us and reality. We surround ourselves with people, but they don't really know who we are. Some of you are walking around this campus faking it. We pass on the way to class and I ask you how you're doing and you say fine when really you just bombed a test or just had a fight with your boyfriend. Sometimes we spend our nights in alcohol because we feel more comfortable but alcohol can just become another mask that lets us be someone else or lets us forget who we are. We have athlete masks, party masks, Christian masks, class clown masks, slutty masks, etc. depending on who we want to be that day around which people. I think sometimes we subconsciously stop before we enter a building to check our mask. You don't have to answer, but how many of us threw on the FCA mask before walking in tonight? Some of us walk around claiming to be Christians but we're doing more acting than we are being. We spend a lot of time doing the right things… we go to church, we do community service, we put Jesus fish on the backs of our cars, we might even read our Bibles or tell our friends about God… all things that are fine and good. But God didn't ask you to do things to make you look like Christ. He has asked us to get to know Him and through our relationship with God we can be a Christian without having to worry about acting like one. In theory, we wouldn't need a churchy Jesus mask to be a Christian. If that's who we are, it is a part of who we are without a mask.
College is an opportunity to figure out who we are, but too often we pick and choose masks and just interchange them to fit our audience without ever getting to know ourselves let alone, let someone else get to know us. When I was a student, one of my favorite things each week was turning the lights off at FCA while we sang. I craved FCA each week because when the lights went off in the cave and the stars lit up, I felt the distractions disappear and felt a connection to God I couldn't find anywhere else in my life. It felt real when everything else felt fake.
So if we can admit we wear masks… why do we do it? There has to be something motivating us to hide.
- Fear of openness – In John 11:17-37, Jesus just found out his friend Lazarus died and comes to meet his sisters Mary and Martha. In verses 33-36 it says, "When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 'Where have you laid him?' he asked. 'Come and see, Lord,' they replied. Jesus wept. Then the Jews said, 'See how he loved him!'" To cry in front of people takes courage in and of itself. Jesus was the teacher, a supposed healer and yet he shows true compassion and openness when he weeps for his friend's passing. Sometimes we are afraid to be open and let someone in.
- Fear of rejection – Job was a guy who had his life rocked. He lost all of his possessions, his children died, he was covered with sores, his wife doubted his faith and his friends were hanging him out to dry. In Job 19:19-20, Job says, "All my intimate friends detest me; those I love have turned against me. I am nothing but skin and bones; I have escaped with only the skin of my teeth." Sometimes we feel like Job. Everything bad piles on and we turn around and everyone has left us to fend for ourselves and we become vulnerable. Webster defines vulnerable as open to attack. Sometimes we wear masks because we don't want to leave ourselves open to attack. Or maybe you've been burned before and have built up a wall to prevent it from happening again. When we fear rejection we say things like: "If you really knew me – you may not like me – you may reject me. Since I am afraid of rejection, I can't really get close to you or let you get close to me." and "If I am honest and share my intimate thoughts and ideas and you reject me it will crush me so I can't really get close to you or let you get close to me." Have you been burned before? A lot of times we do put on masks in relationships after we've been burned. If you've been cheated on, how likely is it that you'll dive right into too another relationship ready to share everything about yourself with someone new. We're cautious… sometimes insecure or even suspicious of every new relationship because we just know they're going to cheat too.
So we admit it... we wear the masks and we might even be able to take a look and figure out why we wear the masks, but how do we fix it? I think we have to be transparent.
What does it mean to be transparent? We have to take off the masks. I can't make you believe anything I say, but I have to preface my solution with my beliefs. I believe God made us… so the first step to removing the mask is to figure out who you are in Christ. Let's say you just bought a new iPod from the apple store and you can't get it to work. Are you going to call the Honda car dealership and ask them to fix it? What about McDonald's? Would they be able to help you? They might have a suggestion based on their own experience with an ipod, but your best answer is going to come from the one who made it. You're instinct is going to take you back to the apple store first. I can ask any of you how to take my masks off, and you may have some good advice about how you did it, but the best answer for me is going to come from God who created me to glorify Him.
Sometimes we've piled the masks on top of each other in an attempt to try out different masks making it a little more difficult. Remember my tape face I told you about earlier… Have you ever put tape on your face? Let's just say there's a reason athletic trainers use pre-wrap before they tape your ankle. Sometimes peeling off layers hurts. We don't always want to see what's underneath, but dig deep to figure out who you are outside of the external influences like school, friends, family, etc. We have to be transparent with ourselves before we can be transparent with others. In Paul's first letter to Timothy, he told him, "For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." You're stronger than you think and need to step outside of the fear, though sometimes it's obviously much easier said than done. Ask yourself, Am I being real? What do I want out of life? Am I being who God has called me to be?
Once you've removed the mask, you need to seek out someone(s) who you can trust to hold you accountable. Beyond honesty with yourself, God created us to be relational people. I feel like Methodist is full of a lot of surface friendships. Thanks to sites like facebook and myspace we have tons of "friends" and sometimes we even have daily "conversations" with people online, but when was the last time you sat and really talked to someone about who you are. It's scary to let someone in, but it's an authentic experience. We already know we don't want to be lonely and through Jesus' example, I believe God has called us to be real, and transparent with each other. I don't think we are expected to spill our guts to everyone we meet on the street and I don't believe transparency is an excuse to be so brutally honest that we hurt someone else. I do believe we could benefit from creating real relationships that honor who God has called us to be.
Rebecca St. James is a Christian singer from Australia with a long list of credentials. I've never been a huge fan of her music, but she was interviewed about her newest album and she talked about transparency. She said…
"For a long time, I thought, 'Becca, you've got to just buck up and be strong, you've got to put on a brave face. You've just got to get through this burnout or this discouraging time or this pressure of leadership as a woman in music. You've just got to grit your teeth and get through it.' But God has just so impressed on my heart the truth that vulnerability is powerful. When you take off the mask, you relate at a base level to everyone else who has been through pain. That [transparency] promotes intimacy; it promotes togetherness, relying on God. It promotes a lack of pretense and a true honesty that is just so beautiful… We are so over-independent and, so willing to put on the strong, brave face that everything's okay when it's not."
I challenge us all to take off the masks… myself included. Hold me accountable. Dig deeper with your roommates, your friends, your teammates and your classmates. Get to know yourself and share yourself with others in a real and transparent way.
Monday, September 17, 2007
new memories
I used to have a habit of cutting out things in my life that reminded me of bad memories... kind of along with my whole habit of holding a grudge... it always seemed easier to forget about hurt or anger if I didn't have to re-live it every time I saw something that reminded me of the experience. I called them triggers. If I met someone at a particular restaurant, eating there again wasn't exactly on my list of things to do. I didn't want to hear songs that meant something to a former relationship. I didn't like watching movies I had seen with them, etc.
I've decided that's a dumb theory. My new theory (and yes theories are open for revision) is to replace bad memories with good ones. I'm not going to ruin a good restaurant or a great song because of a bad experience. I want to recreate new memories that replace the old.
I took a break from CiCi's for awhile. Why in the world would I sacrifice an all-you-can-eat buffet for $4.99 because of some crappy memories when I would have missed out on dinner with my best friend, some work friends or a road trip with the women's soccer team and my 'rents?
There are a number of songs that will take me back to a particular relationship. But I add them to my road trip playlists and create new memories... or spend a day reminiscing about what I learned from it.
I bought a dress to go to a wedding that lit a spark to a week that blew up in my face. Traditionally I'd avoid the dress... but this time I spent too much money to forsake it... I put it on for the next wedding and cleaned the slate.
It seems I've come to a point when I have the freedom to make choices about the direction of my life. I don't know where I'm going, with who or when... but it's ok. I'll be rocking out to "Holiday in Spain" in my wedding-date-dress at CiCi's while I figure it out.
I've decided that's a dumb theory. My new theory (and yes theories are open for revision) is to replace bad memories with good ones. I'm not going to ruin a good restaurant or a great song because of a bad experience. I want to recreate new memories that replace the old.
I took a break from CiCi's for awhile. Why in the world would I sacrifice an all-you-can-eat buffet for $4.99 because of some crappy memories when I would have missed out on dinner with my best friend, some work friends or a road trip with the women's soccer team and my 'rents?
There are a number of songs that will take me back to a particular relationship. But I add them to my road trip playlists and create new memories... or spend a day reminiscing about what I learned from it.
I bought a dress to go to a wedding that lit a spark to a week that blew up in my face. Traditionally I'd avoid the dress... but this time I spent too much money to forsake it... I put it on for the next wedding and cleaned the slate.
It seems I've come to a point when I have the freedom to make choices about the direction of my life. I don't know where I'm going, with who or when... but it's ok. I'll be rocking out to "Holiday in Spain" in my wedding-date-dress at CiCi's while I figure it out.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
unexpected
"We all think we're going to be great and we feel a little bit robbed when our expectations aren't met. But sometimes expectations sell us short. Sometimes the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected. You've got to wonder why we cling to our expectations, because the expected is just what keeps us steady. Standing. Still, the expected's just the beginning, the unexpected is what changes our lives."
I just read this quote for the first time tonight. I researched a bit and most people credit it to Grey's Anatomy and while it seems like everyone else in the world is watching, it's one of the few shows I don't really watch. I feel like I could go in a lot of different directions with the quote, but I guess I first want to set the blog record straight. Sometimes I just need to vent... we all have bad days... some days a vent should stay private... some days I guess I hope maybe someone can relate to my vent hence its presence on myspace... something positive has to come out of stalker space... right?
Anyway... Expectations are dangerous. The Grey's quote is referring to our own expectations, but I think I've been more crippled by others' expectations than my own... but then again maybe they were perceived expectations that I placed on myself. Too often I find myself trying to exceed expectations... and if I don't have expectations, I try to create them. Do you have to have expectations to experience the unexpected?
I've come to a point when I don't have the energy to think too far ahead. I'm typically a planner and carry a yearly calendar around with me... and part of that is a requirement of my job but outside of my work, I want to live the unexpected. The word "screw" has a few different definitions depending on the context, but I find myself saying "screw it" more often... as in what's the worst that could happen? or what the heck? or I'm tired of over-thinking it... either way... let's do it. I haven't forsaken my morals, but I also don't want to miss out on something life has to offer me. I've been steady... standing... I'd almost rather fall than stay where I am... I need to move... I've heard "the expected's just the beginning. The unexpected is what changes our lives."
I just read this quote for the first time tonight. I researched a bit and most people credit it to Grey's Anatomy and while it seems like everyone else in the world is watching, it's one of the few shows I don't really watch. I feel like I could go in a lot of different directions with the quote, but I guess I first want to set the blog record straight. Sometimes I just need to vent... we all have bad days... some days a vent should stay private... some days I guess I hope maybe someone can relate to my vent hence its presence on myspace... something positive has to come out of stalker space... right?
Anyway... Expectations are dangerous. The Grey's quote is referring to our own expectations, but I think I've been more crippled by others' expectations than my own... but then again maybe they were perceived expectations that I placed on myself. Too often I find myself trying to exceed expectations... and if I don't have expectations, I try to create them. Do you have to have expectations to experience the unexpected?
I've come to a point when I don't have the energy to think too far ahead. I'm typically a planner and carry a yearly calendar around with me... and part of that is a requirement of my job but outside of my work, I want to live the unexpected. The word "screw" has a few different definitions depending on the context, but I find myself saying "screw it" more often... as in what's the worst that could happen? or what the heck? or I'm tired of over-thinking it... either way... let's do it. I haven't forsaken my morals, but I also don't want to miss out on something life has to offer me. I've been steady... standing... I'd almost rather fall than stay where I am... I need to move... I've heard "the expected's just the beginning. The unexpected is what changes our lives."
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
careful...
I have a ton to say and not sure how to say it. I'm not even sure myspace is the place to say it. On the other hand, if I don't say it, "it" becomes hypocritical in some sense of the message.
I could never claim to be an expert on reading minds. I try hard, I analyze everyone's words and actions over and over in an attempt to understand what people mean... what they're really trying to say. I think I must misinterpret people a lot... I think we all say things to be polite sometimes... we ask people how they are when we could care less about the answer... we might even compliment someone's shirt and not really care about it... but I feel like those are superficial things. If I tell you I like hanging out with you, I mean it... if I tell you how I feel about you, I mean it. I understand that in relationships sometimes we get all blissed out or caught up in the moment and start spouting off things we can't follow through on... but for lack of a more educated response... it sucks.
I don't want to push anyone into telling me they feel something they don't. I'd rather you just tell me how you really feel. Even if you're not sure... tell me that. Otherwise I'm stuck in the dark trying to figure out what that hug really meant... or if that comment was just a joke... or if you're just trying to be polite... or if you're just not careful with your words.
updates...
- Almost two months ago I posted about waiting. how long is too long?
- I told you my iPod crashed when I went home the first weekend of August... I received a new one via my warranty on the 15th and when I brought it home it didn't work... I took it back on the 16th and received a new one on the 27th... I used it this morning but when I tried it after work, I get nothing. I think iPods around the world are conspiring against me.
- February 15 I posted about the devastating news regarding peter pan peanut butter. Six months later, peter pan returned to shelves and thanks to clementine I was reunited yesterday morning... a beautiful morning after a long night... gracias
I could never claim to be an expert on reading minds. I try hard, I analyze everyone's words and actions over and over in an attempt to understand what people mean... what they're really trying to say. I think I must misinterpret people a lot... I think we all say things to be polite sometimes... we ask people how they are when we could care less about the answer... we might even compliment someone's shirt and not really care about it... but I feel like those are superficial things. If I tell you I like hanging out with you, I mean it... if I tell you how I feel about you, I mean it. I understand that in relationships sometimes we get all blissed out or caught up in the moment and start spouting off things we can't follow through on... but for lack of a more educated response... it sucks.
I don't want to push anyone into telling me they feel something they don't. I'd rather you just tell me how you really feel. Even if you're not sure... tell me that. Otherwise I'm stuck in the dark trying to figure out what that hug really meant... or if that comment was just a joke... or if you're just trying to be polite... or if you're just not careful with your words.
updates...
- Almost two months ago I posted about waiting. how long is too long?
- I told you my iPod crashed when I went home the first weekend of August... I received a new one via my warranty on the 15th and when I brought it home it didn't work... I took it back on the 16th and received a new one on the 27th... I used it this morning but when I tried it after work, I get nothing. I think iPods around the world are conspiring against me.
- February 15 I posted about the devastating news regarding peter pan peanut butter. Six months later, peter pan returned to shelves and thanks to clementine I was reunited yesterday morning... a beautiful morning after a long night... gracias
Monday, August 20, 2007
sometimes...
Sometimes I feel like writing when I really don't have anything to say. In this case... I revert to an update. The methu is back to chaos with students returning and classes starting tomorrow. I'm so glad the energy has returned to the campus, but it also means my life just returned to non-stop work. I want to be better at balancing work and pleasure... things should at least be easier than last year with a year of experience.
My job requires I serve as the public relations guru for all 19 sports at methodist. I try to do it fairly without showing favoritism. Sometimes there are more successful teams than others, or perhaps more successful individuals and that can make it more difficult to cover everyone equally. I also have to keep in mind there's a certain expectation in society that prioritizes sports. The media at-large usually thinks of the "big three" as football, men's basketball, and baseball. I know the reality of the situation... they draw more interest and more revenue than other sports (not as exaggerated in a DIII scenario). Then you come to methodist where golf could be considered both king and queen with 29 national championships between them and things could be re-sorted a bit... but that still leaves 14 other sports in the dark.
I have my own personal dilemma when my heart lies with soccer. I first fell in love with it at six and despite any team or player/coach drama over the past 19 years I can't remember a time when I didn't love the game. I wasn't sure if I wanted to play in college knowing it would limit my college options, but I eventually realized I wasn't ready to let it go yet. Some might say I let it go when I didn't pursue my fourth year of eligibility but there's still something that gets me around soccer season. I ran the beep test twice this summer... voluntarily. I spent my day off yesterday running balls and filling up water bottles at a scrimmage in a hundred degree heat. They made fun of me... but some day they'll understand. You take what you can get when it's gone.
So I'm routing them on this fall. I can't favor them on the website and when there's a football game and a soccer game at the same time, I have to go to football... but my heart... my heart might want success for the women's soccer team more than they do. good luck.
My job requires I serve as the public relations guru for all 19 sports at methodist. I try to do it fairly without showing favoritism. Sometimes there are more successful teams than others, or perhaps more successful individuals and that can make it more difficult to cover everyone equally. I also have to keep in mind there's a certain expectation in society that prioritizes sports. The media at-large usually thinks of the "big three" as football, men's basketball, and baseball. I know the reality of the situation... they draw more interest and more revenue than other sports (not as exaggerated in a DIII scenario). Then you come to methodist where golf could be considered both king and queen with 29 national championships between them and things could be re-sorted a bit... but that still leaves 14 other sports in the dark.
I have my own personal dilemma when my heart lies with soccer. I first fell in love with it at six and despite any team or player/coach drama over the past 19 years I can't remember a time when I didn't love the game. I wasn't sure if I wanted to play in college knowing it would limit my college options, but I eventually realized I wasn't ready to let it go yet. Some might say I let it go when I didn't pursue my fourth year of eligibility but there's still something that gets me around soccer season. I ran the beep test twice this summer... voluntarily. I spent my day off yesterday running balls and filling up water bottles at a scrimmage in a hundred degree heat. They made fun of me... but some day they'll understand. You take what you can get when it's gone.
So I'm routing them on this fall. I can't favor them on the website and when there's a football game and a soccer game at the same time, I have to go to football... but my heart... my heart might want success for the women's soccer team more than they do. good luck.
Monday, August 6, 2007
third time's a charm
Sometimes we throw out cliches not really believing their meaning. Sometimes we throw them out there not really understanding them but it fills an awkward silence. The number three is common whether it's "third time's a charm" or "things come in threes." I'm not sure how much evidence supports either statement but I'm sure some of the validity hinges on your belief in charms or maybe the stipulations of threes.
I really don't think I care much about it either way. But tonight I had my third flat tire in less than two months (second in four days) and I kept having those dumb three cliches running through my head. Most of you know, or at least saw the pictures of when I hit the washing machine back in june. In between the damage quotes and the repairs, the one tire that had been hit went flat. My sister's boyfriend changed it for me and it occurred to me that even though I knew the gist of how to change a tire I wasn't strong enough so what was I going to do if I had a flat in the middle of nowhere.
Thursday night I drove home to Maryland and when I woke up Friday morning my mom showed me I had a flat tire... somewhere I had found a big screw to run over. My mom and I got the spare off the back but my brother had to come set up the jack and get the flat one off for me. Again... I was thankful I made it home and wasn't stranded on 95 or 495 with a flat tire.
This morning I woke up at 3:15 in the morning to drive back to NC in time for work. I made it with no problems, worked until a little after four when I came back to my apt to unload the car, cook dinner and watch a movie. My iPod crashed over the weekend so I decided to try to take it to Best Buy and then pick up the essentials at Walmart. I get out of the apt complex and the guy in front of me pulls off to the side of the road. I started to go around him and he put his window down and I thought he was waving me around but as I kept going I realized he had been trying to get my attention because I was definitely driving on my third flat tire. I made it to Pizza Hut and tried called my sister's boyfriend, but this time he was in Raleigh leaving me to change the tire by myself. Thankfully I had made it back safely and wasn't stranded but I sure felt like it as I provided Pizza Hut's customers with their parking lot dinner entertainment. Somehow I changed the stupid tire. I was annoyed and frustrated at the situation, but there was some consolation in knowing I changed it by myself.
Meanwhile, my neighbor (who I had never talked to before in my life) drove back by while I was at Pizza Hut and apologized for scaring me earlier but said he had just noticed I was driving on the flat. I told him not to worry about it, but I noticed he made a quick exit without volunteering his assistance. Preciate it.
So I'm not sure who's planting the screws and nails or cutting my tires or what but I get the point. I thought I couldn't do it but now I know I can. Is that the charm? I'm hoping I learned my lesson before my fourth one goes flat next month.
I really don't think I care much about it either way. But tonight I had my third flat tire in less than two months (second in four days) and I kept having those dumb three cliches running through my head. Most of you know, or at least saw the pictures of when I hit the washing machine back in june. In between the damage quotes and the repairs, the one tire that had been hit went flat. My sister's boyfriend changed it for me and it occurred to me that even though I knew the gist of how to change a tire I wasn't strong enough so what was I going to do if I had a flat in the middle of nowhere.
Thursday night I drove home to Maryland and when I woke up Friday morning my mom showed me I had a flat tire... somewhere I had found a big screw to run over. My mom and I got the spare off the back but my brother had to come set up the jack and get the flat one off for me. Again... I was thankful I made it home and wasn't stranded on 95 or 495 with a flat tire.
This morning I woke up at 3:15 in the morning to drive back to NC in time for work. I made it with no problems, worked until a little after four when I came back to my apt to unload the car, cook dinner and watch a movie. My iPod crashed over the weekend so I decided to try to take it to Best Buy and then pick up the essentials at Walmart. I get out of the apt complex and the guy in front of me pulls off to the side of the road. I started to go around him and he put his window down and I thought he was waving me around but as I kept going I realized he had been trying to get my attention because I was definitely driving on my third flat tire. I made it to Pizza Hut and tried called my sister's boyfriend, but this time he was in Raleigh leaving me to change the tire by myself. Thankfully I had made it back safely and wasn't stranded but I sure felt like it as I provided Pizza Hut's customers with their parking lot dinner entertainment. Somehow I changed the stupid tire. I was annoyed and frustrated at the situation, but there was some consolation in knowing I changed it by myself.
Meanwhile, my neighbor (who I had never talked to before in my life) drove back by while I was at Pizza Hut and apologized for scaring me earlier but said he had just noticed I was driving on the flat. I told him not to worry about it, but I noticed he made a quick exit without volunteering his assistance. Preciate it.
So I'm not sure who's planting the screws and nails or cutting my tires or what but I get the point. I thought I couldn't do it but now I know I can. Is that the charm? I'm hoping I learned my lesson before my fourth one goes flat next month.
Monday, July 30, 2007
choosing
I think our culture is saturated with a glamorized version of love. Nothing new I know. Not even groundbreaking. The tabloids and gossip columns are the first things read... we're watching everyone's wedding on tv and ooohing and ahhhing over the latest chick flick or perhaps chick lit. Unfortunately most of the "love" we're watching fizzles and the rest is fantasy. If we're going to base our own relationships on what we see, we're going to be disappointed.
I've grown up with clashing examples of what love is... My parents are working on thirty years of marriage but I can't remember the last time I saw them kiss. Of course some people grew up watching their parents make out and maybe they'd prefer their parents get a room. Occasionally my mom attempts a little flirty funny but my dad looks uncomfortable... maybe he just doesn't like pda and he considers his kids part of the public. I think they've tried a ltitle more the last few years... or maybe I just pay attention more, but I hope I look like I'm still enjoying marriage thirty years into it.
On the other hand, I'm a chick flick nerd. I own all of Julia Roberts' movies... even the bad ones (except firehouse from 1987 b/c I can't find it and her cartoon movies) and I've taken to reading cheesy chick lit on occasion as well. I'm a little more realistic than I was but I used to live vicariously through anna scott and maggie carpenter... maybe even a little mary fiore and lucy kelson... (name that movie?) Regardless... they always make love look easy. Sure there are tears and maybe even an occasional sad ending but the love always comes out looking good... I think it's in the requirements to being listed as a chick flick... or at least a romantic comedy.
Meanwhile... I'm a bit more cynical to it all. I want to find that happy medium but know it's not easy. I refuse to be bored or habitual but know no one is writing a screenplay about my love life in a way that would entertain millions. I want it to be real.
I just finished the Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd... my older sister recommended it, but it took me awhile to appreciate it. In the end, Jessie realized, "I felt amazed at the choosing one had to do, over and over, a million times daily - choosing love, then choosing it again, how loving and being in love could be so different."
Falling in love can feel subconscious. People always describe it as "love at first sight" or "I couldn't help myself" but when the hollywood tinted lenses come off loving is conscious... it is choosing... sometimes it's a choice to show it... sometimes it's a choice to fight for it... don't take it for granted.
I've grown up with clashing examples of what love is... My parents are working on thirty years of marriage but I can't remember the last time I saw them kiss. Of course some people grew up watching their parents make out and maybe they'd prefer their parents get a room. Occasionally my mom attempts a little flirty funny but my dad looks uncomfortable... maybe he just doesn't like pda and he considers his kids part of the public. I think they've tried a ltitle more the last few years... or maybe I just pay attention more, but I hope I look like I'm still enjoying marriage thirty years into it.
On the other hand, I'm a chick flick nerd. I own all of Julia Roberts' movies... even the bad ones (except firehouse from 1987 b/c I can't find it and her cartoon movies) and I've taken to reading cheesy chick lit on occasion as well. I'm a little more realistic than I was but I used to live vicariously through anna scott and maggie carpenter... maybe even a little mary fiore and lucy kelson... (name that movie?) Regardless... they always make love look easy. Sure there are tears and maybe even an occasional sad ending but the love always comes out looking good... I think it's in the requirements to being listed as a chick flick... or at least a romantic comedy.
Meanwhile... I'm a bit more cynical to it all. I want to find that happy medium but know it's not easy. I refuse to be bored or habitual but know no one is writing a screenplay about my love life in a way that would entertain millions. I want it to be real.
I just finished the Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd... my older sister recommended it, but it took me awhile to appreciate it. In the end, Jessie realized, "I felt amazed at the choosing one had to do, over and over, a million times daily - choosing love, then choosing it again, how loving and being in love could be so different."
Falling in love can feel subconscious. People always describe it as "love at first sight" or "I couldn't help myself" but when the hollywood tinted lenses come off loving is conscious... it is choosing... sometimes it's a choice to show it... sometimes it's a choice to fight for it... don't take it for granted.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
too soon
perhaps it's too soon but I'm in a rambling state of mind... patience please...
who are you? are you your job? are you your sport or hobby? are you your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife? are you defined by someone else's expectations? are you what happened yesterday? are you wrapped up in tomorrow?
who am I? or maybe who do I want to be? I want to be me. I want to live in this moment. I want to surround myself with people who build me up rather than tear me down. I want to be unreliant on others. I want to learn from yesterday without worrying about tomorrow. I want to pursue things I'm passionate about without letting them consume me. I want to be me.
who are you? are you your job? are you your sport or hobby? are you your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife? are you defined by someone else's expectations? are you what happened yesterday? are you wrapped up in tomorrow?
who am I? or maybe who do I want to be? I want to be me. I want to live in this moment. I want to surround myself with people who build me up rather than tear me down. I want to be unreliant on others. I want to learn from yesterday without worrying about tomorrow. I want to pursue things I'm passionate about without letting them consume me. I want to be me.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
expectations
I went to the driving range today for my first golf lesson. I've been to the driving range before, but it was probably somewhere between 10-15 years ago. Now I am a graduate of a golf school, working at the same golf school, living in a corporate world that golfs, with a ton of friends that golf. I figured it was time I make an attempt. One of my bosses at work and my golf "instructor" have been conspiring about getting me out there and evidently my boss warned the "instructor" about her concerns I would get frustrated. I have a tendency to be a little competitive... okay a lot competitive (I told you I liked competition) and I also seem to put a lot of pressure on myself to do well, or win, or whatever it may be. The good news is... I did okay today. I'm not satisfied, but at least I got the ball off the ground, hit it straight occasionally, and didn't hit anyone or anything. A good start I'd say... particularly if you were familiar with my history of trying new sports.
Almost nine years ago I decided to play lacrosse. It was my junior year of high school. Most of my soccer teammates were on the team, my back was struggling to continue pole vaulting and the team needed a goalkeeper. The starting keeper was a senior with no solid backups to takeover so I decided I'd learn... My first experience in the goal was an indoor tournament where I think I cried through the whole thing. Doubting my decision, I wavered a bit, but somehow showed up for the first day of tryouts. I sucked... and I knew it. American Idol is a commercial success because they have a bunch of dumb people who think they can sing and make fools of themselves throughout the audition process. I wasn't that naive. In the first scrimmage of the year, with nothing to lose, they threw me in the goal for the second half and I ran out to try to beat an attacker to a loose ball and plowed her over subsequently breaking her neck. I was advised to stay in the crease after that. I really only got playing time when we were winning by a lot and I think most of the time I just closed my eyes and threw my body out there praying I'd stop the ball. During a night game midway through the year with the stadium packed, we were down by too much when our coach called a timeout. I had taken on the responsibility of grabbing the big gatorade cooler and taking it to the team to expedite their hydration process. I was a little slow to remember on this occasion so I ran over, grabbed it, and started running back with it when my feet started to have trouble keeping up with the cooler. I ended up sprawled out on the field with the water and ice everywhere. I laid there for awhile considering my options... knowing everyone in our school had just witnessed a pretty big fall... our assistant is sweeping ice off the field with my goalie stick and I finally stand up and take a bow. What else can I do... let's just say I was remembered more for my watercooler antics that year than I was my goalkeeping abilities.
My senior year I was thrown in the goal for real. My year of apprenticeship was over and it was up to me. I still don't think I had a clue what I was doing. We could win 20-2 but I would still be angry I had let the other team score. There were many nights when we'd finish close to 9 at night and I'd head over to our practice field to try to get better... I was never satisfied and always felt like I was letting the team down. During our awards banquet at the end of the year I read a letter to the team... well attempted to read it... I apologized for not being better and for being a jerk to them when I had been mad at myself. I keep the letter closeby when I'm trying to live up to unrealistic expectations even now. I think, too often, I project onto myself what I think are others' expectations of me.
Joan Didion said, "To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect."
I'm a work in progress.
Almost nine years ago I decided to play lacrosse. It was my junior year of high school. Most of my soccer teammates were on the team, my back was struggling to continue pole vaulting and the team needed a goalkeeper. The starting keeper was a senior with no solid backups to takeover so I decided I'd learn... My first experience in the goal was an indoor tournament where I think I cried through the whole thing. Doubting my decision, I wavered a bit, but somehow showed up for the first day of tryouts. I sucked... and I knew it. American Idol is a commercial success because they have a bunch of dumb people who think they can sing and make fools of themselves throughout the audition process. I wasn't that naive. In the first scrimmage of the year, with nothing to lose, they threw me in the goal for the second half and I ran out to try to beat an attacker to a loose ball and plowed her over subsequently breaking her neck. I was advised to stay in the crease after that. I really only got playing time when we were winning by a lot and I think most of the time I just closed my eyes and threw my body out there praying I'd stop the ball. During a night game midway through the year with the stadium packed, we were down by too much when our coach called a timeout. I had taken on the responsibility of grabbing the big gatorade cooler and taking it to the team to expedite their hydration process. I was a little slow to remember on this occasion so I ran over, grabbed it, and started running back with it when my feet started to have trouble keeping up with the cooler. I ended up sprawled out on the field with the water and ice everywhere. I laid there for awhile considering my options... knowing everyone in our school had just witnessed a pretty big fall... our assistant is sweeping ice off the field with my goalie stick and I finally stand up and take a bow. What else can I do... let's just say I was remembered more for my watercooler antics that year than I was my goalkeeping abilities.
My senior year I was thrown in the goal for real. My year of apprenticeship was over and it was up to me. I still don't think I had a clue what I was doing. We could win 20-2 but I would still be angry I had let the other team score. There were many nights when we'd finish close to 9 at night and I'd head over to our practice field to try to get better... I was never satisfied and always felt like I was letting the team down. During our awards banquet at the end of the year I read a letter to the team... well attempted to read it... I apologized for not being better and for being a jerk to them when I had been mad at myself. I keep the letter closeby when I'm trying to live up to unrealistic expectations even now. I think, too often, I project onto myself what I think are others' expectations of me.
Joan Didion said, "To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect."
I'm a work in progress.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
competition
There's something about competition that strikes a chord with me. I haven't had a chance to really compete since November 8, 2002 (yes, I looked it up). I've encountered a few alumni thrashings and worked some camps but there's something about being part of a team that comes together ideally with the same goals and passion in order to compete together.
During my senior year of high school I was really debating the idea of playing soccer in college. Did I love it enough? Was I good enough? How much weight should I put on soccer when deciding where I should spend the next four years? I decided to go to Gardner-Webb, a school transitioning to Division I where I could try to walk-on, but the coach didn't seem to be throwing parties about my impending arrival. My parents paid the deposit and I was ready to go... until March 16, 2000 (yes, I looked it up) when the soccer coach at Methodist, Bobby, e-mailed me. He had e-mailed me before. He had even seen me play, we talked on the phone periodically and he sent me a letter every month, but I really wasn't feeling it. Let's just say Methodist and I weren't exactly love at first sight. But there was something about Bobby's e-mail that day that made me realize I wasn't ready to give up the game. I wanted to compete.
When I arrived at Methodist I covered my side of the walls of Weaver 221 with memories of home, countless posters and one of my favorite reminders of why I was there...
"It's not about getting a scholarship, getting drafted or making Sports Center. It's a deep need in us that comes from the heart. We need to practice, to play, to lift, to hustle, to sweat. We do it all for our teammates and for the guy in our calculus class we don't even know. We don't practice with a future Twins first basemen; we practice with a future sports agent. We don't lift weights with a future Olympic wrestler; we lift with a future doctor. We don't run with a future Wimbledon champion, we run with a future CEO. It's a bigger part of us than our friends and family can understand. Sometimes we play for 2,000 fans, sometimes 25. But we still play hard. You cheer for us because you know us. You know more than just our names. Like all of you, we are still students first. We don't sign autographs. But we do sign graduate school applications, MCAT exams and student body petitions. When we miss a kick, or strike out, we don't let down an entire state. We only let down our teammates, coaches and fans. But the hurt in our hearts is the same. We train hard. Lift, throw, run, kick, tackle, shoot, dribble and lift some more, and in the morning we go to class. Still the next day in class we are nothing more than students. It's about pride in ourselves and in our school. And when it's all over, when we walk off that court or field for the last time, our hearts crumble. Those tears are real. But deep down inside, we are very proud of ourselves. We will forever be what few can cl.. college athletes." -- Sean Sornsin, Cornell College (Iowa)
Sometimes I have to re-read it... to remind myself of where I've been... where I'm going. I spent the last three days getting schooled in my attempt to play soccer with the elite Methodist camp. I was deemed "old" amongst the 20 others ranging from 12 to 21. I've never been speedy gonzales, but I keep getting slower... my touches are off... my shots are wide and I still don't have a right foot... but it didn't matter because I was able to spend a few more hours out on the field kicking a stupid ball that means so much to me. It struck a chord and made me itch for the Methodist season to start... another season of living vicariously through the athletes that won't really know or appreciate what they've done until it's over.
During my senior year of high school I was really debating the idea of playing soccer in college. Did I love it enough? Was I good enough? How much weight should I put on soccer when deciding where I should spend the next four years? I decided to go to Gardner-Webb, a school transitioning to Division I where I could try to walk-on, but the coach didn't seem to be throwing parties about my impending arrival. My parents paid the deposit and I was ready to go... until March 16, 2000 (yes, I looked it up) when the soccer coach at Methodist, Bobby, e-mailed me. He had e-mailed me before. He had even seen me play, we talked on the phone periodically and he sent me a letter every month, but I really wasn't feeling it. Let's just say Methodist and I weren't exactly love at first sight. But there was something about Bobby's e-mail that day that made me realize I wasn't ready to give up the game. I wanted to compete.
When I arrived at Methodist I covered my side of the walls of Weaver 221 with memories of home, countless posters and one of my favorite reminders of why I was there...
"It's not about getting a scholarship, getting drafted or making Sports Center. It's a deep need in us that comes from the heart. We need to practice, to play, to lift, to hustle, to sweat. We do it all for our teammates and for the guy in our calculus class we don't even know. We don't practice with a future Twins first basemen; we practice with a future sports agent. We don't lift weights with a future Olympic wrestler; we lift with a future doctor. We don't run with a future Wimbledon champion, we run with a future CEO. It's a bigger part of us than our friends and family can understand. Sometimes we play for 2,000 fans, sometimes 25. But we still play hard. You cheer for us because you know us. You know more than just our names. Like all of you, we are still students first. We don't sign autographs. But we do sign graduate school applications, MCAT exams and student body petitions. When we miss a kick, or strike out, we don't let down an entire state. We only let down our teammates, coaches and fans. But the hurt in our hearts is the same. We train hard. Lift, throw, run, kick, tackle, shoot, dribble and lift some more, and in the morning we go to class. Still the next day in class we are nothing more than students. It's about pride in ourselves and in our school. And when it's all over, when we walk off that court or field for the last time, our hearts crumble. Those tears are real. But deep down inside, we are very proud of ourselves. We will forever be what few can cl.. college athletes." -- Sean Sornsin, Cornell College (Iowa)
Sometimes I have to re-read it... to remind myself of where I've been... where I'm going. I spent the last three days getting schooled in my attempt to play soccer with the elite Methodist camp. I was deemed "old" amongst the 20 others ranging from 12 to 21. I've never been speedy gonzales, but I keep getting slower... my touches are off... my shots are wide and I still don't have a right foot... but it didn't matter because I was able to spend a few more hours out on the field kicking a stupid ball that means so much to me. It struck a chord and made me itch for the Methodist season to start... another season of living vicariously through the athletes that won't really know or appreciate what they've done until it's over.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
waiting
Webster defines "wait" as... 1a: to remain stationary in readiness or expectation; b: to pause for another to catch up 2a: to look forward expectantly; b: to hold back expectantly 3: to serve at meals 4a: to be ready and available; b: to remain temporarily neglected or unrealized
We all have to learn to wait in life. We wait in traffic, or we wait for something in the mail, or maybe we wait for a new movie to come out. We wait for test results, we wait for a baby's birth, we wait for a phone call. Waiting in some form or another is inevitable... but what are you going to do with your wait? How do you decide what or who is worth waiting for?
Sometimes we become impatient waiting. I think there's a reason for everything, but I wonder what I might have missed out on by giving up on the wait. This kid (ok he's probably not a kid) Napoleon Gonzales said, "We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is a part of the tapestry of living - the fabric in which the threads are woven to tell the story of our lives.Yet current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait - Instant pleasure, instant transcendence. Do not wait for anything. Life is short - eat, drink and be merry because tomorrow you will die." We are in a habit of seeking instant gratification. I'm all about not worrying about tomorrow, going with the flow, but at what point do we settle in for the wait?
Sometimes we have to decide if waiting means standing still and waiting expectantly for something or someone... sometimes we have to dig our feet in to endure a barrage of storms in our life. Other times we need to keep moving forward while we wait. I think I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while I'm waiting. Maybe subconsciously I think if I'm moving, I'm going to lessen the wait or if I wrap myself in other things I can ignore the wait. Probably not... but I keep moving.
Perhaps you remember a few months ago I clued you in to my american idol fave Chris Sligh. He didn't go as far as I might have liked, but he had a band... Half Past Forever and one of my fave songs on their cd is "How Long"... check it out... just a snippet to tease you...
"All my life's been leading to this:
I've been dreaming
I know that life was meant for so much more
All the dreams and hopes to be
Are just dreams of something bigger
Maybe all this dreaming brings me closer to you"
here's to waiting...
We all have to learn to wait in life. We wait in traffic, or we wait for something in the mail, or maybe we wait for a new movie to come out. We wait for test results, we wait for a baby's birth, we wait for a phone call. Waiting in some form or another is inevitable... but what are you going to do with your wait? How do you decide what or who is worth waiting for?
Sometimes we become impatient waiting. I think there's a reason for everything, but I wonder what I might have missed out on by giving up on the wait. This kid (ok he's probably not a kid) Napoleon Gonzales said, "We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is a part of the tapestry of living - the fabric in which the threads are woven to tell the story of our lives.Yet current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait - Instant pleasure, instant transcendence. Do not wait for anything. Life is short - eat, drink and be merry because tomorrow you will die." We are in a habit of seeking instant gratification. I'm all about not worrying about tomorrow, going with the flow, but at what point do we settle in for the wait?
Sometimes we have to decide if waiting means standing still and waiting expectantly for something or someone... sometimes we have to dig our feet in to endure a barrage of storms in our life. Other times we need to keep moving forward while we wait. I think I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while I'm waiting. Maybe subconsciously I think if I'm moving, I'm going to lessen the wait or if I wrap myself in other things I can ignore the wait. Probably not... but I keep moving.
Perhaps you remember a few months ago I clued you in to my american idol fave Chris Sligh. He didn't go as far as I might have liked, but he had a band... Half Past Forever and one of my fave songs on their cd is "How Long"... check it out... just a snippet to tease you...
"All my life's been leading to this:
I've been dreaming
I know that life was meant for so much more
All the dreams and hopes to be
Are just dreams of something bigger
Maybe all this dreaming brings me closer to you"
here's to waiting...
Sunday, June 17, 2007
blessed with a burden
Sometimes blogging seems like a waste. My little view counter assures me people are reading but then I try not to peek. It's easier to be honest when I think I'm the only one reading it. I thought about holding off on the blog tonight so I didn't look like a dork that's on myspace on a saturday night... but here I am.
A while ago I heard someone talking about blessings. He mentioned we assume blessings mean good things. One of Webster's definitions for blessing is "a thing conducive to happiness or welfare." The speaker argued blessings don't have to be good, but are things that will make us become more like God. We're more comfortable with sunshine and flowers, but sometimes we become stronger through the tough stuff. I don't know many people who ask for hardships, but sometimes blessings come in forms we can't recognize right away.
I've been trying to wrap my head around the blessings idea for the last week... trying to be thankful for the blessings in my life... even if they don't look like blessings right now. Meanwhile... I pop in Freedom Writers (starring Hilary Swank with previews that appeared to be a ripoff of Dangerous Minds) and towards the end of the movie, the star teacher is getting through to the kids while her dad, who had previously doubted the credibility of her job, tells her "You've been blessed with a burden." Who usually pairs "blessed" with "burden"? I don't think we're all called to be inner-city teachers preventing kids from slipping through the cracks. (thanks to those who are!) I do think we are all blessed with a burden to make a difference.
I can go through my day merely counting rebounds and tracking wins, but my heart... my heart could care less about that stuff. I don't think this is a forever thing... but right now I want to make a difference here. Of course I look forward to letting a methu rockstar know they broke a record or writing about another championship team... but even more than that... I love hearing from the student-athlete who gets their grades up or finds that dream internship or talks themselves into being who they are without wearing the mask. They make it worth it... not so much of a burden then is it? More like a blessing.
A while ago I heard someone talking about blessings. He mentioned we assume blessings mean good things. One of Webster's definitions for blessing is "a thing conducive to happiness or welfare." The speaker argued blessings don't have to be good, but are things that will make us become more like God. We're more comfortable with sunshine and flowers, but sometimes we become stronger through the tough stuff. I don't know many people who ask for hardships, but sometimes blessings come in forms we can't recognize right away.
I've been trying to wrap my head around the blessings idea for the last week... trying to be thankful for the blessings in my life... even if they don't look like blessings right now. Meanwhile... I pop in Freedom Writers (starring Hilary Swank with previews that appeared to be a ripoff of Dangerous Minds) and towards the end of the movie, the star teacher is getting through to the kids while her dad, who had previously doubted the credibility of her job, tells her "You've been blessed with a burden." Who usually pairs "blessed" with "burden"? I don't think we're all called to be inner-city teachers preventing kids from slipping through the cracks. (thanks to those who are!) I do think we are all blessed with a burden to make a difference.
I can go through my day merely counting rebounds and tracking wins, but my heart... my heart could care less about that stuff. I don't think this is a forever thing... but right now I want to make a difference here. Of course I look forward to letting a methu rockstar know they broke a record or writing about another championship team... but even more than that... I love hearing from the student-athlete who gets their grades up or finds that dream internship or talks themselves into being who they are without wearing the mask. They make it worth it... not so much of a burden then is it? More like a blessing.
Friday, June 8, 2007
a shuffle...
Tonight I went to village and we talked about choices. Everyone spouted off the number of choices we make in a day... the usual answers came up like what to wear, what to eat, what to do when it occurred to me I really set up my day to make the least amount of choices as possible. I already knew I didn't like making a decisions but I think one of the biggest decisions I make each day is to follow yesterday's routine. I still make choices, but tomorrow morning I will wake up at the same time and shower using the same shampoo and find something to wear that I didn't wear yet this week. I'll make my PBJ sandwich (sadly without peter pan) for lunch and then fix my cheerios and head back to my room to catch up on the news before work. I think some people thrive on choices... there are definitely some things I am passionate about choosing. I choose to have a relationship with God and I choose to be a Tennessee fan but I'd really rather not choose where to go out to eat or what to do this weekend. I love hanging out with decisive people... particularly ones who let me be indecisive... thank you.
shuffle... Our wo-me-to reunion is Saturday. While I've made some visits to camp as recently as april 06, I haven't worked at camp in seven years. We should have a good group this weekend... some people I haven't seen in ten years... for some it's been two and a half... others since Christmas. Either way, I am anxiously awaiting the big shindig and excited to see everyone.
shuffle... Unfortunately I suffered this week watching Tennessee softball lose in the World Series Championship series to arizona. I'll try not to rant about the fact it was a double elimination tournament and arizona lost their second game on monday night and Tennessee should have been the champions then... but instead I'll try to hold out hope that some day Tennessee will need a three-game series to win and I'll be thankful... someday. Either way, Tennessee lost and their star pitcher Monica Abbott told the media after the game, "I would just like to say that I poured my heart and soul into the Tennessee softball program. I had high hopes for us this year and I thought we were going to get it done. Unfortunately it didn't happen, but I am very proud to have represented the Lady Vols softball program and helped them get to where we are right now. I hope in the future they will be back here and the result will be different." It almost sounds like the cookie cutter response after an accomplished career, but it just got me that she poured her heart and soul into a program when she could have done it halfway. I suppose it might be unrealistic to think someone could pour everything into it every day for four years, but still it's reassuring to know people are still passionate about their sport. Some times we become clouded by the frustrations of competing and forget what a privilege it is to be a college athlete. I miss it... but thanks to student-athletes like Monica Abbott and countless others (including some methu rockstars) who keep it entertaining because they are passionate about what they do. gracias to you.
shuffle... Our wo-me-to reunion is Saturday. While I've made some visits to camp as recently as april 06, I haven't worked at camp in seven years. We should have a good group this weekend... some people I haven't seen in ten years... for some it's been two and a half... others since Christmas. Either way, I am anxiously awaiting the big shindig and excited to see everyone.
shuffle... Unfortunately I suffered this week watching Tennessee softball lose in the World Series Championship series to arizona. I'll try not to rant about the fact it was a double elimination tournament and arizona lost their second game on monday night and Tennessee should have been the champions then... but instead I'll try to hold out hope that some day Tennessee will need a three-game series to win and I'll be thankful... someday. Either way, Tennessee lost and their star pitcher Monica Abbott told the media after the game, "I would just like to say that I poured my heart and soul into the Tennessee softball program. I had high hopes for us this year and I thought we were going to get it done. Unfortunately it didn't happen, but I am very proud to have represented the Lady Vols softball program and helped them get to where we are right now. I hope in the future they will be back here and the result will be different." It almost sounds like the cookie cutter response after an accomplished career, but it just got me that she poured her heart and soul into a program when she could have done it halfway. I suppose it might be unrealistic to think someone could pour everything into it every day for four years, but still it's reassuring to know people are still passionate about their sport. Some times we become clouded by the frustrations of competing and forget what a privilege it is to be a college athlete. I miss it... but thanks to student-athletes like Monica Abbott and countless others (including some methu rockstars) who keep it entertaining because they are passionate about what they do. gracias to you.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
forgiveness
It was time for another blog but I wasn't feeling very creative. I should be writing an article but I think I'm going to work better under pressure. Today I was talking to a friend and told her I was thinking about writing a blog about holding a grudge. No big shouts of acclamation or affirmation from my audience, so I pondered it a bit more. When I got home I caught up on some oprah (go ahead and barf now for all of the haters) and her show today was centered around forgiveness. I fought the itch for a bit more while I searched through all of my old blogs thinking I must have already addressed this at some point, but... not so much.
I think I have a habit to do things big... I go big for the people in my life and sometimes that means when I've been burned, it means I go big in the opposite direction. Over the years I perfected the art of a grudge. I am fairly sensitive... okay I am sensitive and when I've been offended or my feelings hurt, I start layering up on the armor to pretend I can't be hurt or that I don't need you. Really all I'm layering is bitterness and anger.
My senior year of college a friend was honest with me about how she felt and I cut her out. Less than two years later I was going to grad school in Tennessee... at the same school where she was finishing her master's degree. I found out she worked at smoothie king and tracked her down hoping to hash out our disagreement. The funny part... she couldn't remember why I was mad at her. The experts always tell you that holding resentment doesn't hurt the other person but I don't think I grasped the concept until I was standing in the middle of smoothie king explaining to someone why I cut her out. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails.
Oprah had two courageous women on her show today who forgave people who almost killed them. One of the women, Gill is part of the Forgiveness Project check out the stories if you get a chance... http://www.theforgivenessproject.com/
Ghandi said, "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."
Too often I am weak... here's to becoming strong...
I think I have a habit to do things big... I go big for the people in my life and sometimes that means when I've been burned, it means I go big in the opposite direction. Over the years I perfected the art of a grudge. I am fairly sensitive... okay I am sensitive and when I've been offended or my feelings hurt, I start layering up on the armor to pretend I can't be hurt or that I don't need you. Really all I'm layering is bitterness and anger.
My senior year of college a friend was honest with me about how she felt and I cut her out. Less than two years later I was going to grad school in Tennessee... at the same school where she was finishing her master's degree. I found out she worked at smoothie king and tracked her down hoping to hash out our disagreement. The funny part... she couldn't remember why I was mad at her. The experts always tell you that holding resentment doesn't hurt the other person but I don't think I grasped the concept until I was standing in the middle of smoothie king explaining to someone why I cut her out. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails.
Oprah had two courageous women on her show today who forgave people who almost killed them. One of the women, Gill is part of the Forgiveness Project check out the stories if you get a chance... http://www.theforgivenessproject.com/
Ghandi said, "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."
Too often I am weak... here's to becoming strong...
Monday, May 14, 2007
overexhaustion
I'm exhausted but can't sleep... kirbie blogging in this state of mind would be similar to drinking and driving... passengers beware.
... last week I worked 100 hours... in seven days... it's been awhile since I took a math class but I think that averages to more than 14 hours a day
... there are a lot of ways to say the name betsy bruinsma or lauren haag over a pa system
... mother's day isn't the same when you're not spending it with your mom
... you can be friends with someone... disappear for four years and pick up where you left off... guys make it easier
... can you care too much about your job?
... yes I know you can care too much... I guess a more appropriate question would be where do I draw the line?
... fourteen games of softball is a lot of softball... especially when "your" team only played three of them
... writing about national champions doesn't make you one
... people get offended when you suggest their kid might compete in the special olympics one day... ok they laughed but I just want them to have options
... I can't make everyone change our stupid name or logo the minute we do it
... I'm sorry your stats are wrong... I'm sorry your kid's stats are wrong... No I won't write a story about suzie being potty trained now
... the eastern shore is almost a figment of my imagination
... my mom's cookies are the best... especially when my sister brings them back fresh from the shore
... it's not always easy being at your alma mater watching and writing about sports you can't play anymore
... sanjaya is bad
... i miss work study company
... I would not want to end my career walking in the game-winning run... but I wouldn't light up a cigarette on the other side of the bus afterwards either
... they say survivor, the tv show, is a game but it's a lot like life
... I don't need to be rich but I'd like to find something where I can afford (logistically and financially) to come and go freely
... I have accepted the temporary loss of peter pan to the point I can eat skippy peanut butter on pbj sandwiches... but I still miss curling up on the couch with my jar of peter pan and a spoon... skippy's just not the same
... I may have just bored myself to sleep... maybe this could be your lullaby
... last week I worked 100 hours... in seven days... it's been awhile since I took a math class but I think that averages to more than 14 hours a day
... there are a lot of ways to say the name betsy bruinsma or lauren haag over a pa system
... mother's day isn't the same when you're not spending it with your mom
... you can be friends with someone... disappear for four years and pick up where you left off... guys make it easier
... can you care too much about your job?
... yes I know you can care too much... I guess a more appropriate question would be where do I draw the line?
... fourteen games of softball is a lot of softball... especially when "your" team only played three of them
... writing about national champions doesn't make you one
... people get offended when you suggest their kid might compete in the special olympics one day... ok they laughed but I just want them to have options
... I can't make everyone change our stupid name or logo the minute we do it
... I'm sorry your stats are wrong... I'm sorry your kid's stats are wrong... No I won't write a story about suzie being potty trained now
... the eastern shore is almost a figment of my imagination
... my mom's cookies are the best... especially when my sister brings them back fresh from the shore
... it's not always easy being at your alma mater watching and writing about sports you can't play anymore
... sanjaya is bad
... i miss work study company
... I would not want to end my career walking in the game-winning run... but I wouldn't light up a cigarette on the other side of the bus afterwards either
... they say survivor, the tv show, is a game but it's a lot like life
... I don't need to be rich but I'd like to find something where I can afford (logistically and financially) to come and go freely
... I have accepted the temporary loss of peter pan to the point I can eat skippy peanut butter on pbj sandwiches... but I still miss curling up on the couch with my jar of peter pan and a spoon... skippy's just not the same
... I may have just bored myself to sleep... maybe this could be your lullaby
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
risk
I'm not a big fan of risk, at least not with people. I could do risky adventurous things without too much fear, but when it comes to taking a risk with a person I become more hesitant. I'm not even sure if it's something I learned from getting burned before or if it's who I've always been. Do you forgive and forget or maybe just forgive? Friends who forget you... or reject you... or hurt you... can make decisions a little more interesting. I don't want to be jaded or cynical... but I do want to be smart... and protect my heart.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
packrat
My family tends to refer to me as a pack rat. I wanted to confirm a definition and the truly official wikipedia (*sarcasm*) says "The term pack rat is also used in English as slang to refer to a person who collects miscellaneous items and has trouble getting rid of them (a compulsive hoarder)." I never really thought it was that bad, but when you use the terms "compulsive hoarder" it's definitely not good.
I like to keep things primarily for the sake of memories. Some of them are good and some of them not so good, but I'd still like to remember the lesson learned.
Occasionally being a pack rat comes in handy. If I need to know how much I paid for car insurance four years ago, I have it. Or if someone wanted to read the love letter my 4th grade boyfriend wrote me on the back of a snow valley cup, I could provide that for them.
Occasionally being a pack rat brings a good laugh. If someone wants to perform "Always a Hello" the song written for me when I graduated college, I have the sheet music. Or if I want to read the topic paper I wrote for my 7th grade "language arts" class, I can.
Occasionally being a pack rat takes me back to the "good ol' days." If I want to reminisce about friends from QA I have the goods. Or if I wanted to sport my letter jacket with a couple of rec soccer fake gold medals, I could.
Occasionally being a pack rat reminds me of crap. I think I have every letter anyone has written me. I used to keep them all in shoeboxes and I tried to condense them when I created my portfolio as a senior, but they're still everywhere. Some letters fall into the "good ol' days" category, but others keep taking me back to a lot of "what ifs." Ex-boyfriends, ex-friends, people that have passed away... I'm always torn whether I should keep it all or chuck it. I don't want to get stuck in the past, but I do want to remember what I've left behind. I'm still learning lessons... and could always use a reminder... I think.
I like to keep things primarily for the sake of memories. Some of them are good and some of them not so good, but I'd still like to remember the lesson learned.
Occasionally being a pack rat comes in handy. If I need to know how much I paid for car insurance four years ago, I have it. Or if someone wanted to read the love letter my 4th grade boyfriend wrote me on the back of a snow valley cup, I could provide that for them.
Occasionally being a pack rat brings a good laugh. If someone wants to perform "Always a Hello" the song written for me when I graduated college, I have the sheet music. Or if I want to read the topic paper I wrote for my 7th grade "language arts" class, I can.
Occasionally being a pack rat takes me back to the "good ol' days." If I want to reminisce about friends from QA I have the goods. Or if I wanted to sport my letter jacket with a couple of rec soccer fake gold medals, I could.
Occasionally being a pack rat reminds me of crap. I think I have every letter anyone has written me. I used to keep them all in shoeboxes and I tried to condense them when I created my portfolio as a senior, but they're still everywhere. Some letters fall into the "good ol' days" category, but others keep taking me back to a lot of "what ifs." Ex-boyfriends, ex-friends, people that have passed away... I'm always torn whether I should keep it all or chuck it. I don't want to get stuck in the past, but I do want to remember what I've left behind. I'm still learning lessons... and could always use a reminder... I think.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
march madness
I knew when I accepted this job that the month of march would not be easy. I'm not sure I really understood the true meaning of the concept. In the big picture, I'm three days away from surviving it fairly unscathed. But it's been a few weeks since I've rambled so the 28th it is...
A couple of weeks ago kelsie hurt her knee. It's hard enough watching her team when they struggle to pull together amidst a ton of obstacles this season but to have to watch her struggle through an injury has not been easy. I played nurse for a little while and tried to be strong for her even though I didn't feel it.
A week and a half ago my former advisor and professor from methco passed away unexpectedly. I can't remember how many times I've written about death. I've lost count of how many people I've "lost" during my life. Some I knew better than others, but Dr. J was definitely a reassuring face when I returned to fayettenam this fall and I will miss checking in with her.
I'm trying to balance my work life with my social life. I think it's a work in progress. To be honest I'm not sure I'm good at it. Right now I'm in survival mode just trying to get through the spring sports hoping I can evaluate and adjust during the summer with a chance to do it better next year. I guess I want to carve out a place for me here in glorious fayettenam while still maintaining the relationships with people outside of this bubble. I used to get mad when long distance friends didn't get in touch. They said they didn't mean it and I don't mean it when I do it... but I think there is an underlying sense of letting go that no one will admit to but I feel it. We all have different kinds of relationships with different people, but sometimes I wonder who I would be friends with if there was no internet...
On a completely different note... I was saddened to hear Chris Sligh kicked off of American Idol tonight. America prefers junk like votefortheworst and mohawk warbling Sanjaya rather than Chris Sligh. I admit last night was not his best... but come on... really?
A couple of weeks ago kelsie hurt her knee. It's hard enough watching her team when they struggle to pull together amidst a ton of obstacles this season but to have to watch her struggle through an injury has not been easy. I played nurse for a little while and tried to be strong for her even though I didn't feel it.
A week and a half ago my former advisor and professor from methco passed away unexpectedly. I can't remember how many times I've written about death. I've lost count of how many people I've "lost" during my life. Some I knew better than others, but Dr. J was definitely a reassuring face when I returned to fayettenam this fall and I will miss checking in with her.
I'm trying to balance my work life with my social life. I think it's a work in progress. To be honest I'm not sure I'm good at it. Right now I'm in survival mode just trying to get through the spring sports hoping I can evaluate and adjust during the summer with a chance to do it better next year. I guess I want to carve out a place for me here in glorious fayettenam while still maintaining the relationships with people outside of this bubble. I used to get mad when long distance friends didn't get in touch. They said they didn't mean it and I don't mean it when I do it... but I think there is an underlying sense of letting go that no one will admit to but I feel it. We all have different kinds of relationships with different people, but sometimes I wonder who I would be friends with if there was no internet...
On a completely different note... I was saddened to hear Chris Sligh kicked off of American Idol tonight. America prefers junk like votefortheworst and mohawk warbling Sanjaya rather than Chris Sligh. I admit last night was not his best... but come on... really?
Monday, March 5, 2007
genuine commitment and unhealthy fixation
Nichole Nordeman is a talented singer, musician, artist... whatever term you prefer, but to be honest, I prefer her writing. She writes a column for CCM magazine every month and without fail I can always take something away from it to attempt to apply to my life. This month she was frustrated after watching king kong (note I haven't seen the movie so I can't comment on its quality) but mentioned she was left pondering Jack Black's character. In the beginning she admired his passion but by the end she noticed, "Danger lurks around every corner, and even though his closest friends and crew are losing their limbs and lives to creatures who are unspeakably gruesome, he manages to somehow keep his camera rolling: 'for art's sake.'"
On that note Nichole commented... "Why is there always such a fine line between genuine commitment and unhealthy fixation? And why is it so easy for everyone else to recognize when that line has been blurred or crossed, except for the sucker who is still clinging to the illusion that he or she is somehow gallantly obliged to keep fixating? We see it all the time... dating relationships that should have ended long ago, jobs that should have been resigned from, unrealistic pie-in-the-sky notions of being 'discovered' at something, the optimistic pining away for a certain kind of physical beauty we will never attain, the clutching, the grasping, the constant justification... and everyone else in the room is thinking... Put the camera down. Your life is falling apart around you, and you're waiting to get footage of a 50-foot monkey holding a blonde. Let... it... go. Knowing when to clutch at something even tighter because you believe so firmly in seeing it through, and knowing when to walk away, might be one of the hardest parts about a journey in faith. There are so many competing voices..."
How do we know where to draw the line... I think what's right for one person isn't universal... I knew years ago while I could dream about pro soccer I should leave the actual acting on aspirations to ciara... and while I could handle a few church or school musicals when I was young enough for people to think kids singing are cute regardless of talent I figured out soon enough that I should leave the singing to kelly clarkson... and angela.
I suppose the first task is finding something that I feel passionate enough to pursue... then... draw the line... I hope we can all find genuine commitment in the face of unhealthy fixations flying towards us in every direction.
On that note Nichole commented... "Why is there always such a fine line between genuine commitment and unhealthy fixation? And why is it so easy for everyone else to recognize when that line has been blurred or crossed, except for the sucker who is still clinging to the illusion that he or she is somehow gallantly obliged to keep fixating? We see it all the time... dating relationships that should have ended long ago, jobs that should have been resigned from, unrealistic pie-in-the-sky notions of being 'discovered' at something, the optimistic pining away for a certain kind of physical beauty we will never attain, the clutching, the grasping, the constant justification... and everyone else in the room is thinking... Put the camera down. Your life is falling apart around you, and you're waiting to get footage of a 50-foot monkey holding a blonde. Let... it... go. Knowing when to clutch at something even tighter because you believe so firmly in seeing it through, and knowing when to walk away, might be one of the hardest parts about a journey in faith. There are so many competing voices..."
How do we know where to draw the line... I think what's right for one person isn't universal... I knew years ago while I could dream about pro soccer I should leave the actual acting on aspirations to ciara... and while I could handle a few church or school musicals when I was young enough for people to think kids singing are cute regardless of talent I figured out soon enough that I should leave the singing to kelly clarkson... and angela.
I suppose the first task is finding something that I feel passionate enough to pursue... then... draw the line... I hope we can all find genuine commitment in the face of unhealthy fixations flying towards us in every direction.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
peter pan
so my roommate tells me that everyone is pulling peter pan peanut butter off the shelves because of some salmonella outbreaks. She wants me to chuck the half-eaten jar on the shelf that I own. I'm not sure if you know me or my affinity for peanut butter... but it's deeper than that... I have a love for peter pan peanut butter and only peter pan. A few months ago someone tried to buy me natural stuff... I tried to eat it because it was a gift. It was impossible... not to mention the gift giver turned out to be a dud.
to clear my conscience for the rest of you I'll spread the word to check your peter pan... supposedly the serial numbers on your lid that start with 2111 are the suspicious ones (and yes my jar matches) but I've been eating it all week and I'm feeling good... not to mention with everyone clearing their shelves who knows when/where I'll be able to find another jar.
i'm sticking by ya peter pan... win, lose or salmonella!
to clear my conscience for the rest of you I'll spread the word to check your peter pan... supposedly the serial numbers on your lid that start with 2111 are the suspicious ones (and yes my jar matches) but I've been eating it all week and I'm feeling good... not to mention with everyone clearing their shelves who knows when/where I'll be able to find another jar.
i'm sticking by ya peter pan... win, lose or salmonella!
Sunday, February 4, 2007
aunt elsie
In 1904 my great-grandparents gave birth to my great-aunt Elsie Reamy... She was one of seven kids including my grandmother Edna... (yeah Cliff and Roberta didn't dole out great names-- Elsie, Edna, Irma, Elizabeth, Pearl, Presley, Billy... but I guess it runs in the family)... All seven kids live(d) on the eastern shore of maryland with my grandmother spending some of her life in the richmond, va area. Aunt Elsie married into the Porter family and they lived on a great farm where my dad spent a lot of time while he was growing up. I always loved visiting because they had a gas pump in their driveway.
My mom's parents passed away when I was in fifth grade... My dad's dad (Edna's husband) passed away before I was born... My grandmother suffered from dementia and was moved to an assisted living home while I was in high school. Some days she knew who I was and other days she was getting into the wrong bed with random people in the home. She passed away in 2003 just a few months before I graduated from college. It was weird to be 20 years old and grandparent-less. Some 20 year-olds haven't even been to a funeral.
In 2004 we celebrated Aunt Elsie's 100th birthday. She was the star of the town with a big feature in the newspaper and a huge party. Her back had started to roll a bit, but she was still trucking around just needing someone to support her and she had all of her senses. It was comforting to have her recognize me and know me... to spend time with me... She was the grandmother I didn't have.
On January 17th, my mom e-mailed kelsie and I to tell us Aunt Elsie was in the hospital with pneumonia and they weren't sure she would make it through the night. Anyone that has lived 102 years has lived a great life, but how do you prepare to let go of someone that has been such a big part of everything I know. The last couple of weeks have been full of ups and downs before my dad called me Saturday morning to tell me Aunt Elsie had passed away.
There is some peace that she is not in pain anymore... some admiration for what a tremendous life she lived in almost 103 years... and some sadness that I won't see her for awhile. In the meantime... my Aunt Elizabeth will turn 100 in 15 months... (yes women on my dad's side live forever)
And one of my favorite memories with my family is waffle house before my grandmother's funeral... all of us traipsing in belting out the waffle house song in our "sunday best" is a classic... so I'm hoping for good memories on Wednesday despite the sad occasion.
Aunt Elsie... never forget...
My mom's parents passed away when I was in fifth grade... My dad's dad (Edna's husband) passed away before I was born... My grandmother suffered from dementia and was moved to an assisted living home while I was in high school. Some days she knew who I was and other days she was getting into the wrong bed with random people in the home. She passed away in 2003 just a few months before I graduated from college. It was weird to be 20 years old and grandparent-less. Some 20 year-olds haven't even been to a funeral.
In 2004 we celebrated Aunt Elsie's 100th birthday. She was the star of the town with a big feature in the newspaper and a huge party. Her back had started to roll a bit, but she was still trucking around just needing someone to support her and she had all of her senses. It was comforting to have her recognize me and know me... to spend time with me... She was the grandmother I didn't have.
On January 17th, my mom e-mailed kelsie and I to tell us Aunt Elsie was in the hospital with pneumonia and they weren't sure she would make it through the night. Anyone that has lived 102 years has lived a great life, but how do you prepare to let go of someone that has been such a big part of everything I know. The last couple of weeks have been full of ups and downs before my dad called me Saturday morning to tell me Aunt Elsie had passed away.
There is some peace that she is not in pain anymore... some admiration for what a tremendous life she lived in almost 103 years... and some sadness that I won't see her for awhile. In the meantime... my Aunt Elizabeth will turn 100 in 15 months... (yes women on my dad's side live forever)
And one of my favorite memories with my family is waffle house before my grandmother's funeral... all of us traipsing in belting out the waffle house song in our "sunday best" is a classic... so I'm hoping for good memories on Wednesday despite the sad occasion.
Aunt Elsie... never forget...
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
to keep in touch or let it go...
I've acquired quite a few friends over the years... or maybe acquaintances... sometimes they float from one category to another depending on the weather. During the days of pre-internet I always would always pride myself on being a good pen pal. I would even sign up for those programs in magazines where they would try to match you up with people and I would get mad if they wouldn't write me back. I went to camp wo-me-to every summer from 1990-2000 and met a bunch of people and always became irritated if someone quit writing... or maybe never wrote at all. I lived in maryland for 18 years until college became a new obstacle for keeping in touch. Every one vowed to keep in touch... I was determined to hang on to my friends but I think my list of friends from home grew shorter as I found new friends in college. Most people I only really talked to when I was home for breaks or maybe the occasional IM... people try to keep their best friend and/or their boy/girlfriend from high school and it doesn't really work... well I guess it could... but it didn't for me. Even the friends I kept, the friendship was different by the time I finished college.
Over the past three and a half years since I graduated from college I've dealt with the concept of leaving friends and deciding who to keep in touch with... or if I left a friendship on bad terms do I attempt reconciliation and then do we keep in touch? There's a quote about friends coming into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I used to hate it... why in the world would you plan to have a friend for only a period of time. I thought everyone should keep in touch. I was horrible at letting anyone go.
So now here I am with "friends" all over north america and there's a part of me that is tired of trying to keep in touch with everyone. I'm thankful that things like myspace came around to give us a way to do it without much effort. But... we feel like we're doing a good job of keeping in touch by wishing everyone merry christmas or leaving a happy birthday comment when myspace reminds us it's their birthday. We don't even have to remember our friends' birthdays anymore. We don't need a high school reunion to see who's married or popping out kids or gaining weight. Are we really keeping in touch though? I think it's all well and good as long as both parties view the "friendship" the same.
Beyond the myspace world... how do you figure out who to keep in touch with? It's impossible to keep in touch with everyone... I accept that... but do you have to have been friends for a certain number of years... or do you have to live in the same state... or do you have to have the same relationship status to have something in common... or do you just wait to see who calls... or wait to see who calls you back? Most of the time I don't think we make the decisions consciously... but we're making them whether we realize it or not. I think I realize it even more every time I move...
I'm not sure if I'm really asking for answers as much as I am trying to figure out what's real... should I feel guilty if I don't call everyone back? should I make extra efforts to keep in touch with certain people?
okay the babble is overwhelming... thinking too much... see what a day off does to me...
Over the past three and a half years since I graduated from college I've dealt with the concept of leaving friends and deciding who to keep in touch with... or if I left a friendship on bad terms do I attempt reconciliation and then do we keep in touch? There's a quote about friends coming into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I used to hate it... why in the world would you plan to have a friend for only a period of time. I thought everyone should keep in touch. I was horrible at letting anyone go.
So now here I am with "friends" all over north america and there's a part of me that is tired of trying to keep in touch with everyone. I'm thankful that things like myspace came around to give us a way to do it without much effort. But... we feel like we're doing a good job of keeping in touch by wishing everyone merry christmas or leaving a happy birthday comment when myspace reminds us it's their birthday. We don't even have to remember our friends' birthdays anymore. We don't need a high school reunion to see who's married or popping out kids or gaining weight. Are we really keeping in touch though? I think it's all well and good as long as both parties view the "friendship" the same.
Beyond the myspace world... how do you figure out who to keep in touch with? It's impossible to keep in touch with everyone... I accept that... but do you have to have been friends for a certain number of years... or do you have to live in the same state... or do you have to have the same relationship status to have something in common... or do you just wait to see who calls... or wait to see who calls you back? Most of the time I don't think we make the decisions consciously... but we're making them whether we realize it or not. I think I realize it even more every time I move...
I'm not sure if I'm really asking for answers as much as I am trying to figure out what's real... should I feel guilty if I don't call everyone back? should I make extra efforts to keep in touch with certain people?
okay the babble is overwhelming... thinking too much... see what a day off does to me...
Friday, January 19, 2007
tentative methco soccer schedule for alumni
So I'm not sure how to get in touch with everyone, but Tony asked me to send this out and I feel like myspace is a decent start. If you get this, pass the information along to any other alumni so everyone can reserve the date...
March 31st - There are two fields... Alumni and the current MU team have to be in the top two of their group to play each other. Or perhaps we'll schedule a separate game off to the side if we have to... They're supposed to be 25 min games until the playoffs which are 30 (yes I realize tony's math is a little off but just go with it...)
Field 1
9-9:25am MU v. Mt. Olive1
9:35-10am UNC1 v. NCSU1
10:10-10:35am Mt. Olive1 v. NCSU1
10:45-11:10am MU v. UNC1
11:20-11:55am Mt. Olive1 v. UNC1
12:10-12:35pm MU v. NCSU1
Field 2
9-9:25 am UNC2 v. NCSU2
9:35-10 am MC Alum v. Mt. Olive2
10:10-10:35am MC Alum v. UNC2
10:45-11:10am Mt. Olive2 v. NCSU2
11:20-11:55am MC Alum v. NCSU2
12:10-12:35pm Mt. Olive2 v. UNC2
Lunch break
1:45-2:15pm 4th v. 4th (Field 1) 3rd v. 3rd (Field 2)
2:30-3pm 1A v. 2B (Field 1) 1B v. 2A (Field 2)
3:15-3:45pm Final (Field 1) 3rd Place (Field 2)
March 31st - There are two fields... Alumni and the current MU team have to be in the top two of their group to play each other. Or perhaps we'll schedule a separate game off to the side if we have to... They're supposed to be 25 min games until the playoffs which are 30 (yes I realize tony's math is a little off but just go with it...)
Field 1
9-9:25am MU v. Mt. Olive1
9:35-10am UNC1 v. NCSU1
10:10-10:35am Mt. Olive1 v. NCSU1
10:45-11:10am MU v. UNC1
11:20-11:55am Mt. Olive1 v. UNC1
12:10-12:35pm MU v. NCSU1
Field 2
9-9:25 am UNC2 v. NCSU2
9:35-10 am MC Alum v. Mt. Olive2
10:10-10:35am MC Alum v. UNC2
10:45-11:10am Mt. Olive2 v. NCSU2
11:20-11:55am MC Alum v. NCSU2
12:10-12:35pm Mt. Olive2 v. UNC2
Lunch break
1:45-2:15pm 4th v. 4th (Field 1) 3rd v. 3rd (Field 2)
2:30-3pm 1A v. 2B (Field 1) 1B v. 2A (Field 2)
3:15-3:45pm Final (Field 1) 3rd Place (Field 2)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
mcdonalds, gatorade and baths are now permitted
so my family grew up with my brother, sisters, nephews and I all going to the same pediatrician... He was from Iran originally and had some rather different philosophies regarding raising children... Some doctors might even agree with them... and one theory might not be as random as when you combine all of his views into one man. We could probably all tell you a story or two about the time he carved the sun burn blisters off of my lips or made Kelsie jump up and down to see if she had asthma... He told my parents we shouldn't eat at mcdonalds, drink gatorade, or take baths. I felt like doctor's visits always took forever because he wanted to know about our entire family and then tell us about all of his other patients' drama. In sixth grade I had a sore throat but didn't want to go to the doctor so by the time my parents found out and made me... I had to go to the hospital because they thought my tonsils would explode... needless to say I didn't enjoy visiting our doctor...
But on Sunday my mom told me he passed away... he was 81... (sidenote... should doctors be able to practice at 81 years of age?) I'm sad that he's gone... but I think he lived a good life... I can appreciate his passion for medicine... particularly after reading his obituary... so here's to dr. mehrizi
Dr. Ali Mehrizi's obituary - http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/obituaries/bal-md.ob.mehrizi16jan16,0,7517396.story?coll=bal-news-obituaries
But on Sunday my mom told me he passed away... he was 81... (sidenote... should doctors be able to practice at 81 years of age?) I'm sad that he's gone... but I think he lived a good life... I can appreciate his passion for medicine... particularly after reading his obituary... so here's to dr. mehrizi
Dr. Ali Mehrizi's obituary - http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/obituaries/bal-md.ob.mehrizi16jan16,0,7517396.story?coll=bal-news-obituaries
Monday, January 1, 2007
things I learned in 2006...
A year ago I wrote a list of things I learned during 2005. Some were funny, some were a little sad and some just introspective. Everyone always talks about how time is relative... people are always using the line about it feels like it was just yesterday, but then it feels like it was a lifetime ago. We can't get away from it. So when I rack my brain... and my heart... about what I learned this past year, some of them are the same that I said I learned a year ago... and some of them are new lessons... but maybe if I keep writing them, I'll eventually apply them.
Utilizing the public library for free books and movies is essential when living at home in the cornfields.
If God opens the door... or the window... walk through it in faith.
If a guy calls your dad a geezer, it's probably not going to work out.
Friendship is worthwhile despite the obstacles... whether it be distance or timing or expectations.
I may not be as hard to read as I try to be sometimes.
I could have used one of Evanescence's new songs over the past six years.
Kirby Puckett is missed even if he spelled his name wrong.
People can agree to disagree... leaving the past in the past and building on today.
I can accept death... even young death... even if I'll never understand the reasons or have answers to the hundreds of questions.
Eating dinner with an ex-boyfriend's family and his girlfriend could prove to be awkward.
They speak English in Canada... okay I knew that one already but I thought I'd be a stereotypical ignorant American.
Despite the negative press, there are some awesome kids in this country... I say kids but I mean all of the 11-18 year olds I hung out with this summer. Adults always talk about how you can get more out of a leadership position than the ones you're leading that it can become cliche... but I needed this summer a lot... and I learned so much from every person I met at Ridgecrest and Glorieta.
I can't do everything or be everything to everyone.
I still say stupid things that come off the wrong way when I'm trying to be funny, but it's not.
Look beneath the surface of a guy who seems like he's perfect. He's not.
While a lot of the complaints about MethCo are the same as they were when I first went there six years ago... working there isn't the same.
You can't keep in touch with everyone.
Waiting can be okay... some things are better after a good wait.
I need my family.
and once again... I still have a lot to learn...
* completely off topic... but I read about an essay Sharon Cohn wrote about women and children who are trafficked each year. She wrote about a girl named Simla... and she says "Simla's story is not unique, except that, of course it is. It is unique to Simla. She has plans and dreams just like you and I... Not only is each victim the one, but we likewise can be the one. The one called, the one listening, the one willing, the one sent to bring freedom and justice to innocent ones who are suffering. Being overwhelmed by the numbers is an indulgence the oppressed can ill afford." to read more "the one" - http://www.ijm.org/NETCOMMUNITY/Page.aspx?&pid=270&srcid
Utilizing the public library for free books and movies is essential when living at home in the cornfields.
If God opens the door... or the window... walk through it in faith.
If a guy calls your dad a geezer, it's probably not going to work out.
Friendship is worthwhile despite the obstacles... whether it be distance or timing or expectations.
I may not be as hard to read as I try to be sometimes.
I could have used one of Evanescence's new songs over the past six years.
Kirby Puckett is missed even if he spelled his name wrong.
People can agree to disagree... leaving the past in the past and building on today.
I can accept death... even young death... even if I'll never understand the reasons or have answers to the hundreds of questions.
Eating dinner with an ex-boyfriend's family and his girlfriend could prove to be awkward.
They speak English in Canada... okay I knew that one already but I thought I'd be a stereotypical ignorant American.
Despite the negative press, there are some awesome kids in this country... I say kids but I mean all of the 11-18 year olds I hung out with this summer. Adults always talk about how you can get more out of a leadership position than the ones you're leading that it can become cliche... but I needed this summer a lot... and I learned so much from every person I met at Ridgecrest and Glorieta.
I can't do everything or be everything to everyone.
I still say stupid things that come off the wrong way when I'm trying to be funny, but it's not.
Look beneath the surface of a guy who seems like he's perfect. He's not.
While a lot of the complaints about MethCo are the same as they were when I first went there six years ago... working there isn't the same.
You can't keep in touch with everyone.
Waiting can be okay... some things are better after a good wait.
I need my family.
and once again... I still have a lot to learn...
* completely off topic... but I read about an essay Sharon Cohn wrote about women and children who are trafficked each year. She wrote about a girl named Simla... and she says "Simla's story is not unique, except that, of course it is. It is unique to Simla. She has plans and dreams just like you and I... Not only is each victim the one, but we likewise can be the one. The one called, the one listening, the one willing, the one sent to bring freedom and justice to innocent ones who are suffering. Being overwhelmed by the numbers is an indulgence the oppressed can ill afford." to read more "the one" - http://www.ijm.org/NETCOMMUNITY/Page.aspx?&pid=270&srcid
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