living betwixt & between

strangers vs. community

already but not yet (tomorrow today - but not quite)

So… graduation happened. And I got new glasses. Tomorrow I’m flying out of the country for the first time in about five years. Then coming back to bide my time, preparing to go overseas again… And I’m rolling straight on into the future, rolling out with the tide. Time to leave these beaches (let’s blow this popsicle stand!) and head out into the deep, deep waters. 

Today I lifeguarded for a 4th grade field-trip to a lake somewhere down south. It was about an hour’s drive from the school, and I rode with the teacher, and she thanked me for being willing to spend the day with complete strangers, and asked me what I’d be doing if I wasn’t spending the day with total strangers… and she ended up saying it so much I started to think about what that phrase meant to her, and why she’d say it so often.

It’s a change in perspective for me, to see the group as the strangers. I didn’t really answer her implicit (perhaps?) query about how I felt about spending the day with strangers, but it made me wonder why that would be such a big deal. And I realized that this woman probably spent almost all of her time with people she’d known for years, and would consider it a great sacrifice to be without them. And I started to think about how strangers are going to be my new norm: first this trip, then my new summer job, then my new job overseas… there will be some familiar people, but mostly I’ll be around people who’re strangers to me. Having grown into a community for the past 2 years or so, and realized just how much like home and family that can feel, I begin to have a glimpse of why the idea of “strangers” was so important to this woman.

But while I’ve loved living in community and having a recognized place within it, and while I will mourn the passing of that; while I find the prospect of carving out new niches for myself daunting, it seems to me something quite run-of-the-mill, not something worthy of praise.

What to make of the fact that being with strangers is not strange to me?

Beats me. And really, It’s probably best to just keeo calm and carry on. ;) After all, it could be fun. :)

How a TA Saved the Day

“You have to write this paper. You know that, right?” she said to me.

I looked up. “I know.”

“Grades are due,” she said

“like, two days after the paper’s due. I know.” I replied.

We’d only been talking in her office for about ten minutes at that point, but she’d already read the defeat written all over my demeanor. The interview gradually grew longer and longer, and I ended up staying for over an hour.

Together we discussed approaches, ideas, problems, possibilities. There were a lot of silences as we both sat in thought. Well, I presume she was thinking. I was trying, but my mind kept drifting, wishing she’d just tell me what ideas I could grab onto, a drown victim in a sea of convoluted concepts.

Eventually, that’s exactly what she did. She took some of my ideas, wrapped them up together, and proposed them as a basic framework for my paper. I would have wanted to hug her, but I was too busy fighting the urge to throw myself a pity party and refuse her help. Instead I mustered all my courage, focused my vacant thoughts back on her as a person and said, with true gratitude, thank you.

I meant to say, thank you for your patience. Thank you for saving this paper. It probably would have come to nothing without your help. All I could manage was a quiet “Thank you!” “I hope I haven’t just confused you more,” she said with a smile. “Definitely more helpful than not,” said I. “Good, I’m glad. Good luck!” and with a final wave and another “thank you!” I left her office, hopeful, clutching my lifeline - a barebones framework and the memory of my TA’s calm confidence.

d’oh

the longer I live life, the harder it gets to do it right.

__________________________

The biggest hurdle I have to overcome this finals season is the deafening shout of “I DON’T WANNA DO IT!!! I DON’ WANT TOoOoOooOooo!!!!” on loop in my head.
Imagine that going off every time you start to concentrate, for two weeks. It does not lead to productivity, I can tell you.

in re: real

People always say, “I never imagined my life would look like this.”

Why do we think that we would know what our lives ought to look like? Our ideas about what our lives should look like are based on what we see around us, on what our culture tells us. What stereotypes must a five year old (or fifteen year old) have cobbled together to produce a life-plan?

Often the people whose stories I want to emulate say, “I never imagined I’d be doing this. And I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

(this in response to a line from Halfway to Normal’s Real)

TCA (third culture adult)

So I just recently saw this video:

http://vimeo.com/41264088

And it made me think. I follow this one fanpage on facebook about being a TCK, and I often find the things they post annoyingly elitist. As if kids who moved around were the only ones who had to switch between cultures. So do kids from low SES households who go to school. So do kids who live in long-standing immigrant communities. The third culture phenomenon is, I think, more prevalent than some of us want to believe. 

This video does a nice job of explaining some of the basic conundrums involved in being a TCK, but what I find most interesting are the stories of individuals… not necessarily the culture as a whole.

Thoughts?

on thinking in “last”

I want to examine the value of living in “lasts”

People keep saying “this is the last x,” where the “x” stands for a weekly meeting, an assignment, a class, or whatever. The thing is, this is just the beginning of the lasts. There are so many “lasts” when you move from one life into another.

If you’ve decided you want to transition out, then living in lasts can be great, each last a statement of joy, a step toward where you want to go. If you’re still wanting to live in the stage you’re in, then each last becomes a statement of sorrow, one grain of salt on a wound. But what if you feel both? I find, most often, that endings are bittersweet. 

It’s difficult, of course, not to think to yourself, “this is the last time I’ll….” It takes especial effort to walk away from something as if it’s no big deal, as if it never was - whatever your emotions are on the subject. My method, so far, has been to not let those thoughts consume me. I’ve found in the past that what I thought was a last wasn’t… not really. I’ve said goodbye to places the day I was leaving, only to find myself there again an hour or two later, feeling oh so out-of-place. So my current stance is, why alienate yourself from something you may come back to? You can’t always know where the real lasts are.

Sometimes you can, of course. That’s why we have banquets, sendoffs, and honorary dinners. They create space for official goodbyes. In my experience, they’re often boring or ill-fitting… they don’t celebrate what you loved most, or give you a useful way to say goodbye to those things. I’m hoping that the capstone events will be more fitting this time around.

But what about this acknowledging ends thing? Is it best to carve out time for them, face them intentionally? Or is it better to let them come up to you, with one last warm embrace, and trust you’ll know the true lasts when you see them?

A lifetime of moving, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve gotten any good at saying goodbye to the places, people, and times that I love. It doesn’t feel like it. So let me just apologize in advance, in case I snap at you for “talking in lasts.” I’m still figuring out how to transition gracefully. 

And what is the best way to greet the future? Because in saying goodbye to your present-becoming-past, you must also say hello to your future-becoming-present. That, though daunting, seems to me a much happier task: to take in hand what you have from before, and bring it into the new places. Walking into new things in the love and power of Christ will be so, so good. Reflections on how to do that well will probably be my next post. :)

to write or not to write?

I just calculated what would happen to my final grade if I didn’t write this final paper at all and instead focused on acing the exam.

…that may have been a bad idea. xD Now I know I could pass w/a B-. Not my finest hour, but I’m feeling down to the wire here.

I’ll probably try to get something together… just not something I’d be proud of.

boys boys boys

It’s springtime, boy-time. The time when you see girls and guys walking about in pairs, smiling into each other’s eyes, resting heads on one another’s laps. A few weeks ago, I was wanting to be one of those girls… the girls who are with guys.

Tonight, I don’t want to be one of those girls. Tonight, a boy looked at me like I was outta this world. You know that look… all soft and warm, like the person’s melting. And I looked away real fast, embarrassed, hoping not to hurt him with my indifference. I rode home, glad to be free… free to be indifferent, free to be with whomever I actually like (if there ever is such a person).

Whom the Son sets free is free indeed. I have so much to be thankful for.

most frequent thoughts

1. I’m hungry. *eats food, feels full* … How is it possible to eat enough to fill your stomach and feel so not-satisfied?
2. I don’t want to do this. Let me check facebook.
3. This assignment is so stupid. I’m almost done.
4. I don’t give a flying flip about this class/project/paper anymore.
5. It’s almost over. Just x more days. How will I feel after?

So I’m writing this paper about how you can use metaphor to help form your identity. The example I’ve hit on is how in the Bible, many metaphors are used for God… and they end up being part of his identity. Some examples, to jog your memory:
God is:

• the vine
• our shepherd
• our heavenly Father
• a righteous judge
• the lover of Israel

I’m running out of things to say. There’s this one comic I saw today, at survivingtheworld (http://survivingtheworld.net/StudentPresentation12.html). Basically, the point of it is, the more expert you are at something, the less competent you feel at it.

I take that to mean, a) that I’m an expert paper-writer and b) that this whole “I’ve-studied-the-Bible-my-whole-life-but-I-can’t-identify-and-discuss-metaphors-for-God” thing makes total sense. Kind of.

What I’m trying to get at in the paper is that
a) The idea of God is abstract. We can’t really comprehend him.
b) Metaphors help us relate to God… and in the process, we get a picture of his identity.
c) In the absence of a physical presence (and the ability to express his identity through it, e.g. clothing, accent, etc.), metaphor supplies the identifying features.
d) metaphor can therefore function as identity.  (incl other examples?)

Also… in thirteen days I will have completed two presentations, one final, and five more papers. Oh, and my degree. NBD, people, nbd.