I have a new blog, which I completely forgot to inform my lovely readers over here about.
It's renaissancedreality.wordpress.com.
And I love it.
And I hope you do, too.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Weighing the Balance
I told myself that this semester I would be writing more. Actually, I'm beginning work on a brand new blog, because collecting baseball cards is SO twentieth century. But in the meantime, I figured I would sqitch in my mandated daily hour of writing on this little bugger. Ok, honestly, this is my first time trying to get in this hour of writing all semester. But one of my dear friends, Julia, was visiting all last week, and the week before that classes were beginning, so I officially pardon myself.
Also, six o'clock is really early. My goal is to get up at six, do my devotions, and then write from seven to eight. I'm not sure why I keep confusing myself with Wonderwoman.
Anyway, the semester is off and moving, if at a sort of demented crawl. I realized about two days after getting to Columbia that my bank account would be zero come. . .soon. . .and my semester of community and self-development is becoming one of unforeseen character development, as the job hunt begins once again.
Job hunting is stressful, ya'll. Especially when you are available for only the funky hours of a graduate student. And for a million other reasons/excuses I enjoy utilizing.
And to be honest, the past few weeks have been anxiety-ridden for me. Tears. Lots of tears. Random bouts of shaking, chills, and sleeplessness. Heart-in-throat moments and near hyperventilation whenever I think of it. In one moment of, "Uh. Oh," my real beliefs about God, His goodness, His love, His character, are revealed. They don't really flatter either of us. I would really like to put all my doubts to rest once and for all. I doubt that'll happen. People don't resolve their conflicts that easily.
But I can say that, in the words of a song I sang in choir in high school, "he never failed me yet." Looking back on my life, I can say that He's always come through. Logically then, judging from that evidence, it makes sense that I choose to trust Him until He proves Himself untrustworthy. I would certainly consider any human friend of mine innocent until proven otherwise. So why is it so hard for me to do so with God?
I know why. It's because there are people, even Christian people who believe in the same God I do, starving and dying and hurting and despairing of God's presence worldwide. I don't have a neat, bow-wrapped answer to that pain, or to the question of why I, privileged, selfish, and undeserving person that I am, should have the right to ask or expect more of my life than I have already been given.
But I can affirm the following, with my head if not my heart quite yet:
1) Grace is, by definition, undeserved. And God's mercies are new every morning. Lamentations 3:22-23). Side bar:I have no idea how to delineate between grace and mercies.
2) God claims that He is good, a Father to those who need Him, and has demonstrated nothing less in my own life thus far (Matthew 7:9-11).
3) Trust is a choice, a choice to give up the way we think something should be done, and to rest upon God's promises. Resting is hard, but possible, with His help. (Proverbs 3:5; Matthew 11:28).
4) Even as I wait for the answer, feeling stagnate, He cares. He cares about my dilemma right this moment; He wants me to carry my burden to Him right now, not after I have it under control, not when I become "deserving", not when I'm pretty sure what the answer is, not waiting until "something really bad" happens and I REALLY need Him(because I do recognize, head-wise, at least, that my anxiety is completely unwarranted given the situation). . .He cares now. This is a good thing. (I Peter 5:7)
5) If I do end up dropping out of school, I'm totally making lemonade and moving to Chicago and taking up social work. But in the meantime, I will practice gratitude, for this is one step I can take toward furthering my knowledge of my blessings and my willingness to trust. Because He is good, and what He does is good (Psalm 119:68).
6) This, right here and now, is the perfect opportunity for some character development. I was going to work on developing my own character this semester. Which shows a lot of where I need such character development (self-sufficient much!?). So hey, what a great (if unanticipated, terrifying, and somewhat grating) opportunity to consider it pure joy and come one step closer to perfection(James 1:2-4).
I'm don't want to sugar coat things or present myself as super-spiritual. I would very much prefer that the only worry in my life be whether to play guitar in my room or outside. Honesty compels me to admit that I've had a terrified little weep or two just writing this. But I'm here. And I'm trying, trying, trying, to submit to the "flames," (if you'll allow a little dramatization), rather than squirming free of the burning, yet tender touch of the Father.
Oh, pray for me, dear friends. Because this isn't just about a job. This struggle goes much, much deeper, revealing the core of my relationship with this Christ I purport to serve. My life-long struggle to believe in the goodness and love of the Father is being challenged powerfully and painfully right now. I don't terribly mind coming out scrappy and gasping. . .but I would very much like to know I'm going to come through. Hm. . .that would be a sufficiently dramatic note to end on, but I think it needs clarification. I'm not in danger of giving up my faith. But what good is faith in a despotic god, who bears little resemblance to the real God? What I mean is that I would like very much to be able to come through this being able to affirm with a life-changing conviction that God is, indeed, love and goodness, power and justice. That's all. No big.
Also, six o'clock is really early. My goal is to get up at six, do my devotions, and then write from seven to eight. I'm not sure why I keep confusing myself with Wonderwoman.
Anyway, the semester is off and moving, if at a sort of demented crawl. I realized about two days after getting to Columbia that my bank account would be zero come. . .soon. . .and my semester of community and self-development is becoming one of unforeseen character development, as the job hunt begins once again.
Job hunting is stressful, ya'll. Especially when you are available for only the funky hours of a graduate student. And for a million other reasons/excuses I enjoy utilizing.
And to be honest, the past few weeks have been anxiety-ridden for me. Tears. Lots of tears. Random bouts of shaking, chills, and sleeplessness. Heart-in-throat moments and near hyperventilation whenever I think of it. In one moment of, "Uh. Oh," my real beliefs about God, His goodness, His love, His character, are revealed. They don't really flatter either of us. I would really like to put all my doubts to rest once and for all. I doubt that'll happen. People don't resolve their conflicts that easily.
But I can say that, in the words of a song I sang in choir in high school, "he never failed me yet." Looking back on my life, I can say that He's always come through. Logically then, judging from that evidence, it makes sense that I choose to trust Him until He proves Himself untrustworthy. I would certainly consider any human friend of mine innocent until proven otherwise. So why is it so hard for me to do so with God?
I know why. It's because there are people, even Christian people who believe in the same God I do, starving and dying and hurting and despairing of God's presence worldwide. I don't have a neat, bow-wrapped answer to that pain, or to the question of why I, privileged, selfish, and undeserving person that I am, should have the right to ask or expect more of my life than I have already been given.
But I can affirm the following, with my head if not my heart quite yet:
1) Grace is, by definition, undeserved. And God's mercies are new every morning. Lamentations 3:22-23). Side bar:I have no idea how to delineate between grace and mercies.
2) God claims that He is good, a Father to those who need Him, and has demonstrated nothing less in my own life thus far (Matthew 7:9-11).
3) Trust is a choice, a choice to give up the way we think something should be done, and to rest upon God's promises. Resting is hard, but possible, with His help. (Proverbs 3:5; Matthew 11:28).
4) Even as I wait for the answer, feeling stagnate, He cares. He cares about my dilemma right this moment; He wants me to carry my burden to Him right now, not after I have it under control, not when I become "deserving", not when I'm pretty sure what the answer is, not waiting until "something really bad" happens and I REALLY need Him(because I do recognize, head-wise, at least, that my anxiety is completely unwarranted given the situation). . .He cares now. This is a good thing. (I Peter 5:7)
5) If I do end up dropping out of school, I'm totally making lemonade and moving to Chicago and taking up social work. But in the meantime, I will practice gratitude, for this is one step I can take toward furthering my knowledge of my blessings and my willingness to trust. Because He is good, and what He does is good (Psalm 119:68).
6) This, right here and now, is the perfect opportunity for some character development. I was going to work on developing my own character this semester. Which shows a lot of where I need such character development (self-sufficient much!?). So hey, what a great (if unanticipated, terrifying, and somewhat grating) opportunity to consider it pure joy and come one step closer to perfection(James 1:2-4).
I'm don't want to sugar coat things or present myself as super-spiritual. I would very much prefer that the only worry in my life be whether to play guitar in my room or outside. Honesty compels me to admit that I've had a terrified little weep or two just writing this. But I'm here. And I'm trying, trying, trying, to submit to the "flames," (if you'll allow a little dramatization), rather than squirming free of the burning, yet tender touch of the Father.
Oh, pray for me, dear friends. Because this isn't just about a job. This struggle goes much, much deeper, revealing the core of my relationship with this Christ I purport to serve. My life-long struggle to believe in the goodness and love of the Father is being challenged powerfully and painfully right now. I don't terribly mind coming out scrappy and gasping. . .but I would very much like to know I'm going to come through. Hm. . .that would be a sufficiently dramatic note to end on, but I think it needs clarification. I'm not in danger of giving up my faith. But what good is faith in a despotic god, who bears little resemblance to the real God? What I mean is that I would like very much to be able to come through this being able to affirm with a life-changing conviction that God is, indeed, love and goodness, power and justice. That's all. No big.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Blessed blessed blessed
We leave tomorrow. After over two weeks of fun, food, and fellowship (to quote the overused Christian phrase), we head back to our respective schools (Matthew, my friend Heidi, and myself).
But oh, what a couple of weeks it has been. I’m surprisingly overflowing with gratitude (quite the departure from my usual cynical self), for the ache we’re all feeling upon leaving means that this break was truly something special.
A few of the more memorable moments:
A) Throwing a get-together at my house. The guests were coming at 4, at which point I was planning to go bowling with them. At 3 o’clock, I asked Mom, “Hey. . .when were you planning on starting dinner?” Her response (“I thought YOU were making dinner!”) sent us into a flurry of crazed activity. (In my defense, I don’t just expect my mom to help me host things. Something she has said the day before, and the fact that she began making rolls the day before and declined my help indicated to me that she was wanted to cook. ) I’ve never chopped potatoes so quickly in my life!
12 of us went bowling (I haven’t bowled so poorly since I was about 11 years old), and when we arrived home, Mom had saved the day. It was a lovely time to sit and talk and just be. I love the people I grew up with in a way I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else. They’re special that way.
B) Last Sunday night, one of the ladies from church invited me and two friends over to spend the night. We got horrifically lost on the way there (the half hour max drive turned out to be 2 and a half hours total), which was hilarious for those of us who were not driving, and mainly stressful for the girl who was. That evening a group of us sat and chatted. . .then laid down for bed and talked for another two hours. The following day we all converged at another friend’s house for brunch and ended up hanging out until about 4 o’clock. It was so good. Good to be understood. Good to chat over Turkish tea. Good to feel safe and comfortable. It was truly a soul-nourishing time.
C) New Year’s Eve was spent with some good friends and their families. Every year, my friend Joanie’s family throws a party and plays a four-hour-long movie that was shot of a musical telling the stories of the book of Acts. That sounds weird, but at this point, I’ve done it so much that my New Year’s Eve feels a little odd without “Upside Down.”
D) Making a tunic. I didn’t finish. But I started, and found out I know more about sewing than I thought.
E) I was able to meet a lot of interesting people here, from a WNBA basketball player (we went to one of her games, and it was so much fun! I miss watching sports) to a couple who are interning here from Moody. I just really enjoy meeting people, especially when I’m immersed in a comfortable social network.
F) The sights, the sounds. . .everything about this place, from the public transportation to the people staring at me on the street, to being surprised into leading worship one Sunday. . .this country is one after my own heart. There are many places I call home, but this one always feels more like home than any other.
In short, it was so good to have a break from the tension of transition. So good to see a lot of my friends (in fact, a sizeable majority of us were back this year!), so good to have good conversations, so good to sleep in my room, and wake up to my dad’s breakfasts, and to be able to cuddle with my little brother whenever my heart desired it. Good to be hugged by my mom and chat with my friends.
Thank You, Lord, for blessing me with this break.
But oh, what a couple of weeks it has been. I’m surprisingly overflowing with gratitude (quite the departure from my usual cynical self), for the ache we’re all feeling upon leaving means that this break was truly something special.
A few of the more memorable moments:
A) Throwing a get-together at my house. The guests were coming at 4, at which point I was planning to go bowling with them. At 3 o’clock, I asked Mom, “Hey. . .when were you planning on starting dinner?” Her response (“I thought YOU were making dinner!”) sent us into a flurry of crazed activity. (In my defense, I don’t just expect my mom to help me host things. Something she has said the day before, and the fact that she began making rolls the day before and declined my help indicated to me that she was wanted to cook. ) I’ve never chopped potatoes so quickly in my life!
12 of us went bowling (I haven’t bowled so poorly since I was about 11 years old), and when we arrived home, Mom had saved the day. It was a lovely time to sit and talk and just be. I love the people I grew up with in a way I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else. They’re special that way.
B) Last Sunday night, one of the ladies from church invited me and two friends over to spend the night. We got horrifically lost on the way there (the half hour max drive turned out to be 2 and a half hours total), which was hilarious for those of us who were not driving, and mainly stressful for the girl who was. That evening a group of us sat and chatted. . .then laid down for bed and talked for another two hours. The following day we all converged at another friend’s house for brunch and ended up hanging out until about 4 o’clock. It was so good. Good to be understood. Good to chat over Turkish tea. Good to feel safe and comfortable. It was truly a soul-nourishing time.
C) New Year’s Eve was spent with some good friends and their families. Every year, my friend Joanie’s family throws a party and plays a four-hour-long movie that was shot of a musical telling the stories of the book of Acts. That sounds weird, but at this point, I’ve done it so much that my New Year’s Eve feels a little odd without “Upside Down.”
D) Making a tunic. I didn’t finish. But I started, and found out I know more about sewing than I thought.
E) I was able to meet a lot of interesting people here, from a WNBA basketball player (we went to one of her games, and it was so much fun! I miss watching sports) to a couple who are interning here from Moody. I just really enjoy meeting people, especially when I’m immersed in a comfortable social network.
F) The sights, the sounds. . .everything about this place, from the public transportation to the people staring at me on the street, to being surprised into leading worship one Sunday. . .this country is one after my own heart. There are many places I call home, but this one always feels more like home than any other.
In short, it was so good to have a break from the tension of transition. So good to see a lot of my friends (in fact, a sizeable majority of us were back this year!), so good to have good conversations, so good to sleep in my room, and wake up to my dad’s breakfasts, and to be able to cuddle with my little brother whenever my heart desired it. Good to be hugged by my mom and chat with my friends.
Thank You, Lord, for blessing me with this break.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Perspective
"This, too, shall pass." It's true, you know. Regardless of whether you absolutely love your life stage or are counting the seconds until you can move on, life cycles are such that you won't remain in one for long (if you are able to put your life in perspective, which is admittedly difficult).
Tonight I sat down, peeked at my bank account, expenses, and loans, and crunched some numbers. It was an awful enough situation considering the fact that calling my math skills remedial would be an act of Mother Theresa-like generosity (and Tiger Woods-style deception), and the stress was compounded by the fact that x seemed to always equal either zero or negative. I think I was taught that x should always be a positive integer, but apparently life does not always imitate math.
My response, after I made my mom double-check and approve the numbers on the page, stopped just short of sackcloth and ashes. And I do mean just short. I even rent (rended? did rend?) some clothing, albeit the clothing I am currently sewing that needed a good rending job to make me look like less of a linebacker and more like a female.
In short, I freaked out. As I explained to my mom, I had anticipated that my life could be easy now (living off loans) and hard later (paying off loans) or hard now (working in school) and easy later (paying off loans early). I had not mentally prepared a category for "Life: Hard now, harder later!"
After a good hour of slathering myself in self-pity (with truly unfortunate results to the complexion) I recognized two facts that had somehow eluded me in my fear:
1) I had made no effort to see where God fits into all this
2) I'm being my own selfish pig, as the book title goes
1) My freak out was due to the fact that I had lost a sense of perspective. My focus is on my life, and how I want it run, and what I want to get out of it. A focus on God changes that instantly. I don't need life to be debt-free, stress-free, or hardship-free to be effective for Christ and the opportunities He has given me for service. Furthermore, if I truly seek Him, I will know for certain that this time will not be wasted. He's pretty economical when it comes to time.
2) Oh, and did I mention that I'm being an ungrateful wretch? What a disheartening news story: "Debt-free graduate of expensive private university gets an emotional allergic reaction to the loans she's taking out to attend the graduate school of her choice which will prepare her perfectly for what she wants to do in life." Not to mention that I have a wonderful family, I grew up in one of the best countries in the world while simultaneously claiming citizenship to the "free-est" (most free) countries in the world; that living without proper shelter is a form of recreation to me (maybe not always the most enjoyable recreation, but we'll save the camping stories for later). I have never gone without food or clothing. I'm more or less healthy. I have been blessed to know some of the best sorts of people on this earth. And I just finished my annual read-through of Pride and Prejudice. In short, I am blessed, blessed, blessed.
One of the things that had initially saddened me was that my lack of funds will prevent me from some of the hobbies I had hoped to take up (ie: sewing. You wouldn't think that it would be expensive, would you?). But that's ok. Instead, I can focus on learning piano and guitar (pursuits I have taken up and given up frequently over the past few years), sing and write more, and enjoy the process of learning to develop relationships well. Take that, Sallie Mae.
Tonight I sat down, peeked at my bank account, expenses, and loans, and crunched some numbers. It was an awful enough situation considering the fact that calling my math skills remedial would be an act of Mother Theresa-like generosity (and Tiger Woods-style deception), and the stress was compounded by the fact that x seemed to always equal either zero or negative. I think I was taught that x should always be a positive integer, but apparently life does not always imitate math.
My response, after I made my mom double-check and approve the numbers on the page, stopped just short of sackcloth and ashes. And I do mean just short. I even rent (rended? did rend?) some clothing, albeit the clothing I am currently sewing that needed a good rending job to make me look like less of a linebacker and more like a female.
In short, I freaked out. As I explained to my mom, I had anticipated that my life could be easy now (living off loans) and hard later (paying off loans) or hard now (working in school) and easy later (paying off loans early). I had not mentally prepared a category for "Life: Hard now, harder later!"
After a good hour of slathering myself in self-pity (with truly unfortunate results to the complexion) I recognized two facts that had somehow eluded me in my fear:
1) I had made no effort to see where God fits into all this
2) I'm being my own selfish pig, as the book title goes
1) My freak out was due to the fact that I had lost a sense of perspective. My focus is on my life, and how I want it run, and what I want to get out of it. A focus on God changes that instantly. I don't need life to be debt-free, stress-free, or hardship-free to be effective for Christ and the opportunities He has given me for service. Furthermore, if I truly seek Him, I will know for certain that this time will not be wasted. He's pretty economical when it comes to time.
2) Oh, and did I mention that I'm being an ungrateful wretch? What a disheartening news story: "Debt-free graduate of expensive private university gets an emotional allergic reaction to the loans she's taking out to attend the graduate school of her choice which will prepare her perfectly for what she wants to do in life." Not to mention that I have a wonderful family, I grew up in one of the best countries in the world while simultaneously claiming citizenship to the "free-est" (most free) countries in the world; that living without proper shelter is a form of recreation to me (maybe not always the most enjoyable recreation, but we'll save the camping stories for later). I have never gone without food or clothing. I'm more or less healthy. I have been blessed to know some of the best sorts of people on this earth. And I just finished my annual read-through of Pride and Prejudice. In short, I am blessed, blessed, blessed.
One of the things that had initially saddened me was that my lack of funds will prevent me from some of the hobbies I had hoped to take up (ie: sewing. You wouldn't think that it would be expensive, would you?). But that's ok. Instead, I can focus on learning piano and guitar (pursuits I have taken up and given up frequently over the past few years), sing and write more, and enjoy the process of learning to develop relationships well. Take that, Sallie Mae.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Social "leechery"
Break has created a little bit of space to breathe (despite the 1000 plus pages of homework to read before I return to SC!). Seeing friends and family, being surrounded by familiar haunts and faces I know have all contributed to the restorative experience that comes with a Christmas in Turkey.
I've been keeping an eye on both my present and past experiences as I process last semester and my other rough transitionary periods, and I'm trying to come up with a definition of independence and aloneness that works within the constructs of who I am and what I have to work with. Let me decode that poor little word puzzle for you. :)
Essentially, I'm realizing that I'm not as independent a person as I thought. I'm not someone who needs to have people around me all the time, and I think I confused the trait of being able to enjoy doing some things alone with the schizoid preference of doing everything alone. My new conclusions, upon studying two instances of difficult (and utterly alone) transitions, clues me into the fact that I do not, in fact, do well in transitions when I transition alone. I can make friends anywhere if I have a social base from which I operate and to which I can return at any point.
The implications for treatment? (My gosh, I'm becoming utterly noxious in my counseling treatment lingo). When I make transitions in the future, it would be best if I transitioned into an already existing social network or transitioned with a social network (ie: moved with a friend). This is all fine and good in theory, but I'm not sure how to apply it without becoming a social leech. I don't like leeches.
Suggestions?
I've been keeping an eye on both my present and past experiences as I process last semester and my other rough transitionary periods, and I'm trying to come up with a definition of independence and aloneness that works within the constructs of who I am and what I have to work with. Let me decode that poor little word puzzle for you. :)
Essentially, I'm realizing that I'm not as independent a person as I thought. I'm not someone who needs to have people around me all the time, and I think I confused the trait of being able to enjoy doing some things alone with the schizoid preference of doing everything alone. My new conclusions, upon studying two instances of difficult (and utterly alone) transitions, clues me into the fact that I do not, in fact, do well in transitions when I transition alone. I can make friends anywhere if I have a social base from which I operate and to which I can return at any point.
The implications for treatment? (My gosh, I'm becoming utterly noxious in my counseling treatment lingo). When I make transitions in the future, it would be best if I transitioned into an already existing social network or transitioned with a social network (ie: moved with a friend). This is all fine and good in theory, but I'm not sure how to apply it without becoming a social leech. I don't like leeches.
Suggestions?
Friday, December 11, 2009
Four Themes
I keep trying to write a blog, but it just isn't happening. I usually go into "emotional processing" zone somewhere along the way, which leads to me pitching a hissy fit and rolling around on the floor in tears, while hysterical laughter issues from my mouth, because what am I, three?
So I'm just going to try to re-cap this semester in as quick and straight-forward a method as possible:
Patience has been a bit theme. My timing is off of God's by about 6000 billion years, and it shows. One of us is wrong. I vacillate with regard to which one I believe that to be.
Surrender has been another big theme. I'm nowhere near there yet. In fact, the thought of surrender makes my head ache and puts my teeth on edge. We'll see how this goes.
Along with the surrender comes crushed dreams. Not necessarily crushed, per se. But surrender means that they can't undergird my existence. And let me tell you, giving up dreams can an emotionally taxing experience.
Finally, woundedness. I have literally become a person who can turn on the tears within seconds and with very little provocation. I just have a lot of seeping wounds right now, it's taking longer (ahem. . .patience) than I had hoped to de-seep them. It's funny to be doing so well, yet be so emotionally filleted at the same time. We'll see where that goes.
There's a re-cap. It's been a very bad semester, if one judges the goodness of a semester by the amount of pixie dust and giggles found per square minute. It's been a very good semester, if one judges goodness by the number of times God has smacked one upside the head.
I can't really say definitively that it has been bad or good, hard or easy. . .it's just been. It's one more semester that I can place in that little record book of my life, and while it included some failures and some successes and some surrender and so much rebellion I'm nowhere near the root of the problem and have already considered giving up. . .it has been.
And that in itself is a good thing.
So I'm just going to try to re-cap this semester in as quick and straight-forward a method as possible:
Patience has been a bit theme. My timing is off of God's by about 6000 billion years, and it shows. One of us is wrong. I vacillate with regard to which one I believe that to be.
Surrender has been another big theme. I'm nowhere near there yet. In fact, the thought of surrender makes my head ache and puts my teeth on edge. We'll see how this goes.
Along with the surrender comes crushed dreams. Not necessarily crushed, per se. But surrender means that they can't undergird my existence. And let me tell you, giving up dreams can an emotionally taxing experience.
Finally, woundedness. I have literally become a person who can turn on the tears within seconds and with very little provocation. I just have a lot of seeping wounds right now, it's taking longer (ahem. . .patience) than I had hoped to de-seep them. It's funny to be doing so well, yet be so emotionally filleted at the same time. We'll see where that goes.
There's a re-cap. It's been a very bad semester, if one judges the goodness of a semester by the amount of pixie dust and giggles found per square minute. It's been a very good semester, if one judges goodness by the number of times God has smacked one upside the head.
I can't really say definitively that it has been bad or good, hard or easy. . .it's just been. It's one more semester that I can place in that little record book of my life, and while it included some failures and some successes and some surrender and so much rebellion I'm nowhere near the root of the problem and have already considered giving up. . .it has been.
And that in itself is a good thing.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Kicking and Screaming
I fully intend to phone in the rest of the semester. That's probably not what Jesus would do, but I'm done trying to use that line as guilt motivation, and have very little inclination to care about school or goals, or anything or importance, at this point. Instead I watch House and drink coffee. Not a bad life, all things considered.
Truth is, I am feeling intense cabin fever right now; I'm really fighting the thought of being here for another semester, let alone another several years. Part of it is the fact that this program is so harrowing that crap I never realized bothered me is suddenly making me run to my car to cry after class (where some now-traumatized 16-year-old boys caught me yesterday. That was amusing, to say the least). Then, of course, I wonder what's wrong with me and when it's going to get better, because I can't afford to go through life leaking all my bodily fluids. I'm already dehydrated from all the coffee.
I'm looking into volunteer opportunities and advocacy groups here in Columbia. That's the best way I can think of to help me reconcile with being here until I'm 26 (or longer). The justice oriented part of me, the passionate part, the part that I like best because it isn't focused on my petty life, has been dormant since getting here. I need to nudge it back awake. I need to make changes in the way I live. Graduate school Lauren, so far, is a bit of a disappointment; so I guess it's a good thing I'm going to be here for so long to rectify that, isn't it? :)
Truth is, I am feeling intense cabin fever right now; I'm really fighting the thought of being here for another semester, let alone another several years. Part of it is the fact that this program is so harrowing that crap I never realized bothered me is suddenly making me run to my car to cry after class (where some now-traumatized 16-year-old boys caught me yesterday. That was amusing, to say the least). Then, of course, I wonder what's wrong with me and when it's going to get better, because I can't afford to go through life leaking all my bodily fluids. I'm already dehydrated from all the coffee.
I'm looking into volunteer opportunities and advocacy groups here in Columbia. That's the best way I can think of to help me reconcile with being here until I'm 26 (or longer). The justice oriented part of me, the passionate part, the part that I like best because it isn't focused on my petty life, has been dormant since getting here. I need to nudge it back awake. I need to make changes in the way I live. Graduate school Lauren, so far, is a bit of a disappointment; so I guess it's a good thing I'm going to be here for so long to rectify that, isn't it? :)
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