One of the best pieces of advice ever given to me was by my roommate in college who said, " Grace, when you're having a bad day, just have a bad day and let yourself be." I always had trouble following her advice. Now, as I juggle the stages of adulthood-sticking to official and unofficial appointments, keeping up with external and internal schedules, and satiating the need to feel and be productive while also allowing myself room to breath, I find it difficult to take time out to accept certain things and even more difficult to wallow in it. Nevertheless, as I make the small steps needed to be better at this thing we all do called "living", I try my best to hold to her advice.
Generally,I find that when I grapple, I grapple not with having to correct the inconsistencies around the cold facts, but with having to accept the hard truths. My first year out of college, it was the truth that this place I thought existed, this place called "there" was never actually in existence. I had clung to the fabricated idea of "there" while I was in high school thinking college would give this "there" an actual name. Unfortunately, it did not. Regardless, I continued to believe in it ...until I finally felt the absolute freedom of making my own choices. I moved to the city I most wanted to live in and all of a sudden, I felt as though the world was forcing me to drink water from a fire hose. That, or it was going to swallow me up. I realized then that I was never going to make it "there" because "there" does not exist.
Then it was the ominous transitional phase, the one that serves as a catalyst for what we call 'the quarter life crisis'. My own quarter life crisis just happened to occur six months early. I experienced extreme awareness of everything and anything going on within myself, but had no idea how to fix or solve anything and just felt altogether lost within myself. I shared the observations and realizations of my self-awareness and got responses of, "it's great that you're so aware" and "that's so insightful". To be honest, I really wasn't trying to be insightful. I was more trying to express that I'd rather not have anymore epiphanies from being aware because I didn't really know what to do with the plethora of "great" insight. I guess I was hoping for a course of action, a solution, or something of that sort.
I'm not completely past the quarter life crisis stage though I expect for mine to end six months before the actual expected time. These days, I'm doing my best to just accept that we're all trying to figure this thing called life out. That there's no specified path to walk or course of action. That the rules I stuck to and applied in the past don't necessarily work and that sometimes it's better to just abandon them altogether. That there's no miracle drug to get rid of the symptoms when the symptoms are merely a reflection of what you know and how you deal. That, as humans we always go back to what we know because despite the fact that it may not be good for us, it's just what we know and what we know is what makes us feel safe and secure. But even still, grace remains at our feet and continues to look at us, backwards and forwards.
And maybe I don't really understand grace completely, but I'm seeing that the thing with grace is that it always meets you where you're at and never leaves you where it finds you. It knows you can't leap across the abyss of doubt on your own, so it lifts you up in all your fear and trembling and carries you across. You never know for sure exactly what happened or how you got there, but you know you're not where you were or who you were when you took that first step. So here's to grace, for always meeting me where I am and never leaving me where it found me.
With each day, I find myself wanting to know more in hopes that the next time I go back, I'll be standing somewhere different. Surely, we have not been left here tongue tied, forlorn, perplexed, and drinking water from the world's fire hose. God is quietly whispering to us and inviting us to foster and discipline a consistent time and place where He can meet with us. And it is in this place that our true nature comes to surface and that He gently speaks truth. Truth that replaces the cold facts by revealing our pride, anxieties, and insecurities. This is one of the exact places where He works, where deep inner change occurs.
And if standing somewhere different requires changing what I know, then I guess on those bad days it does me best to just sit and let myself be. To just wallow and grapple with what I find. And in transition and awareness, to just accept the truth of how and what things really are. And at the end of the day, I'll know that even on a so-called bad day, I've come out a lot stronger and better.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
THE LUNATIC LADY @ THE GAS STATION & THE RUNWAY MODEL
If I were gutsy enough, I’d write about the end of my afternoon and title it, ‘Crazy Lunatic Lady at the Gas Station’. I’d craft a nice story from the events of the afternoon and set the climactic ending at a Chevron gas station. I’d cast a Crazy Lunatic Lady and extras looking for nothing more than to have their gas tanks filled. The scene would open with the Crazy Lunatic Lady on her cell phone spastically having a publicly audible conversation with the person on the other end. You’d hear or read, “I don’t want anything serious or to marry them…I just want to go on a date” and then she’d thrust her arms and say, “and I’ve been having gastrointestinal issues this past week…I keep having the runs” and then she’d pace back and forth with her head down and say, “oh and I figured out what it was that was bothering me, I had a full on discussion about all of it with my psychologist…the shrink helped me figure it out” and then she’d realize how crazy it all sounded should someone be observing her and start laughing profusely…or rather insanely.
As is, I’m not going to write about the ‘Crazy Lunatic Lady at the Gas Station’ so instead I’ll write about myself as a Runway Model.
Once upon a time I was a Runway Model. It was during my sophomore year in college, the year I lived with a fashion student. Don’t get me wrong, modeling was not something I ever aspired to do, it was one of the many ‘scandalous’ situations I found myself in during college. Others include but are not limited to wearing caution tape and eating ‘special brownies’. They make my claim of being a ‘gunner’ who spent all her time in the library unbelievable…but continue to trust me when I say that I was indeed very nerdy.
Anyways, so I was a runway model...not by choice or by the call of a duty to volunteer. It was because my fashion student suitemate insisted on making these clothes that no one else she knew could fit in. And so, there was me. The first time... was bad. I took one look at the tiny hounds tooth skirt and told her that I didn't think it would fit. She begged me to try on the entire outfit. "The show's tomorrow and Annie can't fit the skirt, she nearly broke the zipper." I remember hoping I might break something as I put on the Barbie skirt, tight black halter top, bright red booster bottoms (I think that's what they're called), and black knee high boots. Unfortunately, it all fit. As I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I had to bite my lip to keep from saying, "Oh my goodness, it's me...I've gone from nerd to hooker."
As if that wasn't already bad enough, she then told me I had to do 'the walk'. I shook my head, "I don't do 'the walk'" I said. She lead me around the common room in circles saying. "It's the catwalk! Just think catwalk!". I swear that during my attempt at the catwalk, I looked as though I was in the middle of an epileptic seizure. I got by with a compromise between something that looked like a minor convulsion and semi skip an managed to make it through the show. I thought I was in the clear and would never have to do anything like that again. I was wrong.
I became this cowardly model who hesitated but just could not say "no" to her suitemate's pleas. I got suckered into a photo shoot for her portfolio of which the whole time I worried that the pictures might be considered to be pornographic and desperately asked if I could put on my sweater over or a t-shirt under the DEEP v neck top. "Oh Stop", she'd say, "You may not be an actual model, but at least try to think like one." And of course who could forget the final project where I stood before a panel of judges displaying the Pepsi theme in a slinky royal blue dress and silver cape. Since the main feature was the cape, I assumed I probably would not have to show much of the dress, or lack of dress in my opinion. And it just so happened that I was running low on the essentials that morning and had to do a toss up between my bathing suit bottom and the safety grandma underwear (you know the one you keep at the bottom of your drawer and wear only on laundry day). The Grandma underwear won, but that wasn't supposed to be a problem since it was the cape that the judges would be looking at and not the dress right? Yeah, never believe a fashion student when they tell you that you won't have to take the coat off. Oh yeah and FYI, grandma underwear is not made to be worn under a dress with two very high slits.
So I was a pretty pathetic runway model if you ask me. I didn't have the walk or the posture, and I definitely didn't have the confidence as I was extremely uncomfortable. In my opinion, it was as though I was having the nightmare where I stood before a crowd in my underwear. Oh wait, that did happen...the grandma underwear. I nearly flashed all the judges with it while maneuvering my way around in that dress. Even so, it was an experience and as usual I'm now able to realize something from it.
I guess today, as I continue to figure things out, I’m reminded that regardless of a sad or even perfect modeling display, someone will always sees me as I am. That beneath the tacky fashion trends or even the put-together preppy attire, someone sees an intricate elegance and design. And in this life, even with the less than perfect posture and lack of 'the walk', I finally have confidence that God, with His almighty power, makes perfect His own work as He carries it onto completion.
As is, I’m not going to write about the ‘Crazy Lunatic Lady at the Gas Station’ so instead I’ll write about myself as a Runway Model.
Once upon a time I was a Runway Model. It was during my sophomore year in college, the year I lived with a fashion student. Don’t get me wrong, modeling was not something I ever aspired to do, it was one of the many ‘scandalous’ situations I found myself in during college. Others include but are not limited to wearing caution tape and eating ‘special brownies’. They make my claim of being a ‘gunner’ who spent all her time in the library unbelievable…but continue to trust me when I say that I was indeed very nerdy.
Anyways, so I was a runway model...not by choice or by the call of a duty to volunteer. It was because my fashion student suitemate insisted on making these clothes that no one else she knew could fit in. And so, there was me. The first time... was bad. I took one look at the tiny hounds tooth skirt and told her that I didn't think it would fit. She begged me to try on the entire outfit. "The show's tomorrow and Annie can't fit the skirt, she nearly broke the zipper." I remember hoping I might break something as I put on the Barbie skirt, tight black halter top, bright red booster bottoms (I think that's what they're called), and black knee high boots. Unfortunately, it all fit. As I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I had to bite my lip to keep from saying, "Oh my goodness, it's me...I've gone from nerd to hooker."
As if that wasn't already bad enough, she then told me I had to do 'the walk'. I shook my head, "I don't do 'the walk'" I said. She lead me around the common room in circles saying. "It's the catwalk! Just think catwalk!". I swear that during my attempt at the catwalk, I looked as though I was in the middle of an epileptic seizure. I got by with a compromise between something that looked like a minor convulsion and semi skip an managed to make it through the show. I thought I was in the clear and would never have to do anything like that again. I was wrong.
I became this cowardly model who hesitated but just could not say "no" to her suitemate's pleas. I got suckered into a photo shoot for her portfolio of which the whole time I worried that the pictures might be considered to be pornographic and desperately asked if I could put on my sweater over or a t-shirt under the DEEP v neck top. "Oh Stop", she'd say, "You may not be an actual model, but at least try to think like one." And of course who could forget the final project where I stood before a panel of judges displaying the Pepsi theme in a slinky royal blue dress and silver cape. Since the main feature was the cape, I assumed I probably would not have to show much of the dress, or lack of dress in my opinion. And it just so happened that I was running low on the essentials that morning and had to do a toss up between my bathing suit bottom and the safety grandma underwear (you know the one you keep at the bottom of your drawer and wear only on laundry day). The Grandma underwear won, but that wasn't supposed to be a problem since it was the cape that the judges would be looking at and not the dress right? Yeah, never believe a fashion student when they tell you that you won't have to take the coat off. Oh yeah and FYI, grandma underwear is not made to be worn under a dress with two very high slits.
So I was a pretty pathetic runway model if you ask me. I didn't have the walk or the posture, and I definitely didn't have the confidence as I was extremely uncomfortable. In my opinion, it was as though I was having the nightmare where I stood before a crowd in my underwear. Oh wait, that did happen...the grandma underwear. I nearly flashed all the judges with it while maneuvering my way around in that dress. Even so, it was an experience and as usual I'm now able to realize something from it.
I guess today, as I continue to figure things out, I’m reminded that regardless of a sad or even perfect modeling display, someone will always sees me as I am. That beneath the tacky fashion trends or even the put-together preppy attire, someone sees an intricate elegance and design. And in this life, even with the less than perfect posture and lack of 'the walk', I finally have confidence that God, with His almighty power, makes perfect His own work as He carries it onto completion.
Monday, July 9, 2007
SOLIDARITY & THE VERY LONG CAR RIDE
I love long car rides. I love having the windows rolled down, a song playing from the speakers, an occasional conversation with a good friend, but even more powerful than such are the moments shared in silence.
Silence is an interesting thing. It is the residue left behind after impacting words. It facilitates a connection with another human being and communicates to them that their presence, the intimacy, and the lack of need to explain, justify, or manipulate that is most valued. Silence is a bond of trust and one of a deeper care and concern. Such occasions and invitations of quiet connection are not just about chance chemistry but rather about learning to discipline something much deeper set within each of us. The discipline of solitude is perhaps a key to true solidarity.
We live in a culture that rages war against silence. We have multiple televisions in our gyms, we ride the train and power walk through the city and on campus with our Ipods. We savor a Bluetooth headset for our photo equipped cell phones and keep our aim chats lit to ensure the rapture has not occurred and that there are still people out there. It is, in some cases, our ingrained defense mechanism against the anxiety of loneliness.
The existence of noise, enough stimulation, meetings, dinner dates, leaves no room for silence, the silence that sheds light on loneliness. It is this loneliness that leaves one self loathing, jealous, performance driven, or judgmental and critical of all the other apparently happy people. We may find that when silent enough we are but empty. If we sit in silence the anxiety that nobody cares may creep up on us.
Silence has an even more profound function when paired with the urge to justify ourselves through words. We fear so deeply that people will misunderstand us, that our reputations will be marred if we fail to stand and defend them or that others will find us insignificant if we do not make some noise to make others aware that we really are a leader of sorts. We break silences to let the world know that we are a force to be reckoned with. We want to be different, to be special, and to have the accolades and recognition of others. I have something to say something important. And if only you would hear me and be inspired by me you'd see that I'm right, or that you're wrong or that I'm brilliant or that I'm accomplished. and if only you'd recognize that what I'm saying is so right you'd join me in this lonely pursuit that helps me feel like there's purpose to being me! What I'm alluding to here is the spirit of self justification and self promotion that often undermines the beauty and blessings that come with silence.
Certainly, God has not left us to suffer here tongue tied, depressed, and deaf to the world. Rather I suggest God is quietly whispering to us and inviting us to foster and discipline a place of constant solitude where He can meet with us. A discipline of silence so that our true nature would come to surface and that in loving grace His Holy Spirit could speak truth. Our pride is revealed in this silent solitude, and our anxieties and insecurities lay bare. But this is one of the exact places where He works, this is where deep inner change happens.
He speaks to us in solitude about calling and secret things. During moments of silence while professors and supervisors misunderstand us, as our family members criticize and judge us, as our peers gossip and attempt to mudsling us, instead of blaming and defending ourselves we are instead invited daily to sit in a place of silence in a place of solitude. When we grow in the discipline of solitude and silence, we trust and find that God speaks, "I am here. I am your justifier. I will never forsake or leave you. The good work that I began in you I will bring to completion."
What's even more mind boggling is that it is in this solitude, that an increasing compassion and love for others is developed. We see others for who they are, not for what they do for us, not whether or not they agree with us, not if they approve of us, we simply see them the way God sees them and we realize we are loved greatly, bought with a costly price, Christ's blood, which is for them as well.
Silence is an interesting thing. It is the residue left behind after impacting words. It facilitates a connection with another human being and communicates to them that their presence, the intimacy, and the lack of need to explain, justify, or manipulate that is most valued. Silence is a bond of trust and one of a deeper care and concern. Such occasions and invitations of quiet connection are not just about chance chemistry but rather about learning to discipline something much deeper set within each of us. The discipline of solitude is perhaps a key to true solidarity.
We live in a culture that rages war against silence. We have multiple televisions in our gyms, we ride the train and power walk through the city and on campus with our Ipods. We savor a Bluetooth headset for our photo equipped cell phones and keep our aim chats lit to ensure the rapture has not occurred and that there are still people out there. It is, in some cases, our ingrained defense mechanism against the anxiety of loneliness.
The existence of noise, enough stimulation, meetings, dinner dates, leaves no room for silence, the silence that sheds light on loneliness. It is this loneliness that leaves one self loathing, jealous, performance driven, or judgmental and critical of all the other apparently happy people. We may find that when silent enough we are but empty. If we sit in silence the anxiety that nobody cares may creep up on us.
Silence has an even more profound function when paired with the urge to justify ourselves through words. We fear so deeply that people will misunderstand us, that our reputations will be marred if we fail to stand and defend them or that others will find us insignificant if we do not make some noise to make others aware that we really are a leader of sorts. We break silences to let the world know that we are a force to be reckoned with. We want to be different, to be special, and to have the accolades and recognition of others. I have something to say something important. And if only you would hear me and be inspired by me you'd see that I'm right, or that you're wrong or that I'm brilliant or that I'm accomplished. and if only you'd recognize that what I'm saying is so right you'd join me in this lonely pursuit that helps me feel like there's purpose to being me! What I'm alluding to here is the spirit of self justification and self promotion that often undermines the beauty and blessings that come with silence.
Certainly, God has not left us to suffer here tongue tied, depressed, and deaf to the world. Rather I suggest God is quietly whispering to us and inviting us to foster and discipline a place of constant solitude where He can meet with us. A discipline of silence so that our true nature would come to surface and that in loving grace His Holy Spirit could speak truth. Our pride is revealed in this silent solitude, and our anxieties and insecurities lay bare. But this is one of the exact places where He works, this is where deep inner change happens.
He speaks to us in solitude about calling and secret things. During moments of silence while professors and supervisors misunderstand us, as our family members criticize and judge us, as our peers gossip and attempt to mudsling us, instead of blaming and defending ourselves we are instead invited daily to sit in a place of silence in a place of solitude. When we grow in the discipline of solitude and silence, we trust and find that God speaks, "I am here. I am your justifier. I will never forsake or leave you. The good work that I began in you I will bring to completion."
What's even more mind boggling is that it is in this solitude, that an increasing compassion and love for others is developed. We see others for who they are, not for what they do for us, not whether or not they agree with us, not if they approve of us, we simply see them the way God sees them and we realize we are loved greatly, bought with a costly price, Christ's blood, which is for them as well.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
BLUEPRINTS
I Am. To Be. She Is. We Are.
By Design I am Easily & Often Excited: If you have me as a buddy on your Google Talk or AIM then chances are that you've received a random message from me at some point in time that is either in all CAPS, or ends with a lot of exclamation points, or both. I get excited easily about 'big' and 'small' things and feel the need to share it with everyone and sometimes anyone. I make a terrible poker player as I find it painfully difficult to keep from smiling when I am dealt a nice hand. Instant bake Christmas inspired shaped cookies in early November have caused me to jump up and down in the aisle at the grocery store. Easily Excited...this I am.
By Design I Often Feel Cold: She wears tank tops and leaves the house without a jacket, I'm in sleeves and am never without an extra layer. She fans herself in the car with the air conditioner on full blast in front of her, I let the heat from the sun seep deep into the car seats. She'd rather be too cold than too hot, I'd rather be sweating than shivering. She owns a total of 5 pairs of socks, my sock possession ranges from cows, to stripes, to argyle. Often Cold...this I feel.
By Design I Remember Things: I know when it was that we first met. I also know where, how, and in what context it was in. Most likely, I can recall what you, I, and even those around us were wearing. Through conversations and interactions, I know what you like and don't like. I know this may make me seem like a stalker, but I'm not. I remember things without having to try. It seems I am well-connected with an expansive social network. In truth, it is mostly my memory that connects me with and to others as many of the people I know probably have no recollection of me. My observations stay with me. There may not be an initial deep connection, but over the course of time the observations in my memory help me build a sustainable connection. Remember Things...this I do.
By Design I am Easily & Often Excited: If you have me as a buddy on your Google Talk or AIM then chances are that you've received a random message from me at some point in time that is either in all CAPS, or ends with a lot of exclamation points, or both. I get excited easily about 'big' and 'small' things and feel the need to share it with everyone and sometimes anyone. I make a terrible poker player as I find it painfully difficult to keep from smiling when I am dealt a nice hand. Instant bake Christmas inspired shaped cookies in early November have caused me to jump up and down in the aisle at the grocery store. Easily Excited...this I am.
By Design I Often Feel Cold: She wears tank tops and leaves the house without a jacket, I'm in sleeves and am never without an extra layer. She fans herself in the car with the air conditioner on full blast in front of her, I let the heat from the sun seep deep into the car seats. She'd rather be too cold than too hot, I'd rather be sweating than shivering. She owns a total of 5 pairs of socks, my sock possession ranges from cows, to stripes, to argyle. Often Cold...this I feel.
By Design I Remember Things: I know when it was that we first met. I also know where, how, and in what context it was in. Most likely, I can recall what you, I, and even those around us were wearing. Through conversations and interactions, I know what you like and don't like. I know this may make me seem like a stalker, but I'm not. I remember things without having to try. It seems I am well-connected with an expansive social network. In truth, it is mostly my memory that connects me with and to others as many of the people I know probably have no recollection of me. My observations stay with me. There may not be an initial deep connection, but over the course of time the observations in my memory help me build a sustainable connection. Remember Things...this I do.
By Design I am Complex: I think all the time. I analyze a lot. I look for answers and solutions to most things...almost everything and when I can't find one, I go on long runs to work it all out as though the miles I put on my feet will miraculously shed light on the very things I am thinking about. At times, I find myself stopping after 12 miles saying to myself, "Freak, it's STILL all so complicated ". I always thought there was something wrong with me and that I needed to fix myself because it's not good to be complex. 'No one wants to be around a complicated person', I told Pastor Min. He told me that I was indeed complex, 'but so is my wife...and I love her for the fact that she is as complicated as she is...otherwise, she wouldn't be my wife. You do think deeply and your thoughts are the source of your complexity, but your complexity doesn't need to be fixed or changed, it's the way you see it, your refusal to accept yourself as is that needs changing.' Complex...this I am.
By Design I am Self Aware: I am good at identifying the problem but not so good at solving it. I seem to always know what I don't want but don't quite know what I want, and with time it appears that knocking out what I don't want still leaves me with Google plex minus one options. I flight rather than fight and need those around me to push my limits even though I get scared easily and try to run away on instinct. I like hot chocolate, it makes me feel better about things. I like to think that it is the way to my heart. At times, I think I am better online than in person because it feels safer to me. I get nervous easily and either get real quiet or real talkative. Like the rest of the human race, I have the intertwining concentric emotional and logical minds and tend to air on the far end of the logical. It is my hope to find myself inbetween at what they call the 'wise mind'. It is not that I can't or don't feel a lot of things, but rather that I feel most things rather intensely and then just don't know what to do with all of it. I run long distances because I like to and take baby steps through life because I have to. And with all this self-awareness, I'm seeing that the key to solving the problem, finding what you want, choosing to fight rather than flight, being present, feeling at ease, attaining the 'wise mind' is that you just have to be okay with who and what you are.
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