I know she can GET the job, Harry, but can she DO the job?

I have always thought that making first-or-second-year college students pick a major was a little ridiculous. How on earth is someone supposed to know, at age 18, what they want to do with their lives? [1] I cannot tell you how many people I talked to in my senior year who decided that they didn't want to be an education or business or psych major, but they only had one more semester and changing their minds would mean more time and money spent at school. And yes, I know that (thankfully!) many employers are just looking for a degree in general, nevermind what that degree is in, and no (just for the record), I'm not saying that getting a degree isn't worthwhile (although see [1] and a probable future post for more thoughts on this), but the point is: that's a hell of a lot of pressure to put on someone fresh out of high school, who--thanks to senior year and an unrealistic sense of self-assurance--thinks they actually know what it is that they want to do.

Like me, for example. I knew exactly what I was doing with my life (note the rueful shake of the head). I never even changed my major, because I knew before going to college that I was going to get my English degree, and then go on to grad school to study Composition And Rhetoric, and then become a tenured English professor and teach college freshmen How To Write and have a book-lined office with a comfy swivel chair and be that crazy blue-haired professor who changed students' lives on the regular.

Confession: I had no idea what "rhetoric" actually was (something Aristotle something), and now after a year and a half of grad school I might be able to explain it to you. Same applies for "tenure." I have also learned (in a mere 3 semesters of teaching) that I'll settle for making sure my students remember to bring a pencil to class, and convincing them that teachers DO actually notice when you use 12.5 point font (and that it just makes you look desperate when I've told you seventeen times that there isn't actually a page requirement). [2]

--anyway the point is, being an English Composition professor just made the most sense. Writing has always been pretty easy for me (which is why I would wait until the night before to do it...), and I care about reaching students at the early-adult-stages because that's the time when most people deal with/go through a lot of pretty significant life changes. I certainly did. And you'd think (maybe) that the fact that literally all of my other plans had changed would have indicated to me that I should rethink the English Prof one--but no, I'm stubborn, and it was the one thing I was determined to hold on to. Going To Grad School was the reason I turned down a promotion at The Corporation (at least three different times), why I only half-heartedly looked for better-paying (and more enjoyable) jobs, why I spent my summers trying to study for the damned GRE and write up application essays instead of doing the thing that has always been waiting (patiently) on the sidelines for me to notice it. I was thoroughly devastated when I didn't get accepted on my first round of applications (surely the magna-cum-laude-with-honors and a talent for writing would up my chances of a killer statement of purpose?!) but then not getting accepted just became a challenge that I had to take on, which I did, because I knew that I could if I just tried a little harder.

Not once did I stop to think whether or not that was what I really wanted to do.

The summer before I started school was the first time I gave myself a break, took The Pressure Of Everything Else off, and allowed myself to take my writing seriously. After all, I had the time, and no other commitments, and I might as well make the most of my summer before I moved on with my "real" life. And then I wrote more that summer than I've ever written, and it was messy and mostly awful and that project has been temporarily shelved, but it underscored the thing I've always known and pretended not to: I want to write fiction. My heart has always been in the young adult fantasy shelves, with the stories about girl heroes and adventures, with magic and romance and learning about life and relationships and yourself. But then grad school happened, and there I was, doing what I'd worked so hard to do and trying (only somewhat successfully) not to be miserable while doing it.

This is a post about Making and Changing Plans (she explained), but allow me to take a small detour to talk a little bit about whining. The thing is, it's so hard to explain where I am with school without looking like I'm just pathetically complaining about having relatively-demanding responsibilities. On the one hand, my problems are directly related to the combination of the objective, widely-accepted stress about grad school and my own struggle with anxiety. Being a graduate student is all-consuming: you wake up in the morning thinking about the work you have to do, and frequently just doing your chores feels like reprieve. [3] But I also never feel like I am doing as much as I should, and I never reach a point where I can look at my to-do list and say "yep, crossed everything off for today." And because I'm teaching, I have the weight of the education of 48 students on my heart, and the constant feeling of failure when it comes to providing meaningful feedback on their work (which only about a third of them will read anyway), as well as managing my interpersonal anxiety when it comes to overly-confident-and-cocky students (or, worse, the totally non-confident students, when my Big Sister Function kicks on and it's all I can do not to hug them while they're crying). It's little wonder that I'll take my victories in the form of pencil-equipped students on a daily basis.

But that's only one side of it. The other side comes directly from the fact that I can't seem to stop from talking about how hard of a struggle this is. And that's the really upsetting thing about grad school: it consistently makes me feel like a failure, like I am the kind of person who would rather be doing anything other than the work she's supposed to be doing. It makes me genuinely concerned that I am lazy and/or incompetent, that I am bad at sticking things out, that I can't handle actual responsibility (so much for motherhood) and I'm never going to be happy because all I want to do is watch Netflix and color--and that all of this is my fault, because I'm useless. Personal life history and character references will probably (hopefully) prove otherwise, but grad school makes it hard for me to even know who I am anymore, and between weeks 1 and 15, sometimes it's literally all I can do to have a good solid cry on the couch (or the floor, or the shower, you know, wherever). [4]

For those of you who have asked me about school and gotten the overly-dramatic time-for-a-paxil answer, this is why. And then I hear myself say (again) how it's really challenging and how rough of a time I've had, and then I hate myself for whining about all of this, again, and then I shut up because methinks the lady doth protest too much.

And thus I return to my main point, which is that having plans is fine, and being the kind of person who pursues her goals is fine, but what we often forget to tell ourselves is that we need to take time to consider what it is we actually want to do, and whether our Well-Made Plans are really getting us there.

Last semester I had to decide whether to turn in an application to renew my teaching assistantship, as well as one to the Creative Writing department to Continue My Education and get a PhD (because regardless of the fact that The Plan had always been a PhD in comp/rhet, getting a PhD in general was still acceptable). It's such a good opportunity, everyone said, and it would be silly not to at least apply because you can always decide not to go later. And even if none of UWM's fiction writing classes will specifically help you with what you want to write, you can still benefit from the classes, because writing and sharing your work will always help you improve, won't it?

I am not ARGUING that with you, Harry. [5]

But for the first time (that I can think of anyway), I made an active decision not to act on something that I could have. I nervously took some deep breaths as December deadlines passed me by. Filling out some forms? No big deal. [6] But what was a big deal was realizing that even taking that step--even pretending that I would decide later--meant that there was a really good chance that I would make myself do it. Because, damn it all, I'm not a quitter! I'm not someone who flakes out on Serious And Important Life Goals! I am not someone who just gives up on her dreams!

Not arguing that with you, Harry. But just because I can get the job--and maybe, even if I CAN do the job--it doesn't mean that I have to.

Now (almost 10 years after Making Plans) I finally, actually, know what I want.

I want to write novels and raise a family. I want to go to a job that allows me to actually cross items off my to-do list, a job that I don't need in order to feel fulfilled, and I want to leave everything there when I come home. I want to read ALL of the books and learn not to feel like I'm disappointing anyone (myself included/especially) for not Being Productive every waking moment. I don't mind hard work, and I don't mind challenges. But if I'm going to face those, no matter what, they might as well be hard work and challenges on the road to doing the things I'm actually interested in.

So, long story short (much too late, they chorused): I'm about to hit the ground limping with my final semester of grad school. [7] I'm really, really overwhelmed by it (I have to write my thesis and teach a totally new class, not to mention ignore the noisy conflict of senioritis and highest-grad-school-stakes-so-far), and I could use your prayers, because I'm already a couple of emotional meltdowns in and the semester hasn't even started yet. But if Joe can jump into a volcano, and if Addie can leave the castle to find the cure for the Gray Death [8], then I can (probably) (hopefully) make it through the next 3.5 months.

And then?

I guess we'll find out.

---
[1] Not to mention the fact that we tell them to go directly to college, do not pass go, do not collect any money for having a full time job to grow up a little and figure out what you want out of life (because you certainly won't be making enough money to pay for college, to the collected dismay of the older generations) -- but that's for a different post.

[2] For the record, blue hair washes out right away and looks terrible with my complexion, and besides, I don't even like to own books.

[3] If that doesn't capture the sense for you, I don't know what will.

[4] For my Catholic friends out there: how do I nominate my husband for sainthood?

[5] This, the title, and the images are from the movie Joe versus the Volcano, which if you haven't seen yet you absolutely should.

[6] Sending in creative writing samples and actually getting accepted to the program? Much bigger deal. All things considered, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten accepted anyway (realistic observation, not self-depreciation). But that's not actually the point, so this got footnoted instead.

[7] I've considered quitting, but Aaron has convinced me that I should have something to show for all the work I've done (emotional and otherwise), so I guess I'll at least give it a shot. See [4].

[8] Bonus points if you know what this is from -- looking at you, Minte.

is God telling me to ruin MY life?

I'm going to do it again: that thing where I link to another post because someone else said what I have said or have wanted to say. Only (naturally) they said it better, and more concisely. Because let's face it, I don't do concise.

Go ahead, ruin your life. I dare you.

... this post is everything I have been saying, to myself, to my husband, to my sister and brothers, to my friends.

You can't lose. You can't! There aren't "right decisions" in the freedom of the Gospel. We still commit sin, that's not what I mean--but if you think about it, nothing we do is untainted by our sinful human nature. Everything is affected by our self-serving attitudes. But when it comes to life decisions? When it comes to choosing a path, a career, a spouse... we spend so much time worrying about what is Right that we often end up not making decisions at all.

It's like Allison says:  "if I’m living in honest pursuit of Truth, I believe I’ll find it."

I'm ridiculously worked up right now, for two reasons. First, because someone else thinks how I think, and is passionate about the steadfast presence of God. Because my friends have heard me say it enough that they really just need to hear it from someone else too.

But also? Because I feel like she is talking to me. Because right now I'm feeling inspired to Write (oh, to BE a Writer), to find a way to pursue teaching English between now and whenever-I-get-into-grad-school, and to stop barista-ing in order to pursue it.

I mean, let's face it. That's what I want to hear. And there's a fine line between taking a leap of faith for a specific purpose, and doing something irresponsible because I want to. And there's two of us, and I have to consider how my theories and philosophies and passionate ideals will change our life.

But damn. Right now, I'm ready to jump.

get a grip

I am, for the most part, of the opinion that people grow in little spurts, which occur as a result of an external cause (which is usually a "bad" experience, but I find that I learn the most through these in particular). I myself can look back and identify large changes and how they correlate to my chronological life: parents' divorce, starting college, breakup, breakup, etc. To be honest, while I usually dislike the event itself, in periods of stasis I find myself looking forward to these occurrences. That's why I enjoy school so much -- I am constantly finding things to think about, and these thoughts act as little catalysts for development. And I crave this development. Only when I am actively learning, academically or otherwise, do I feel that I am exercising the truest and best parts of my brain and my personality. The thrill of processing new ideas and information carries me through until I get the next hit, and I can sail through life high on inspiration and creativity.

Which is why, ultimately, I was so very upset about not getting into grad school. My reaction probably came across as pretty overdramatic, since it's not unusual not to be accepted the first time you apply places, and it's not like I can't apply again. But for me, it was more than just a delay in reaching my career. Grad school was going to give me another few years of intellectual high, and probably/hopefully give me that one last boost into "adulthood" that I've been waiting for. I couldn't tell you what it is that I'm going to learn or do that will make that happen, but I was (am?) pretty positive that a step or two remains between current Piera and useful-member-of-society-Piera. And grad school felt like my opportunity to reach that change, because it was moving on from barista-ing. I enjoy my job, but once the new-job thrill died down, Starbucks was just ... Starbucks. In some ways I'm jealous of the people who have found their calling in, as we say, "the industry." There's something to be said for contributing in tasty little ways to people's lives, and going home at the end of the day feeling fulfilled. But what I know is that it isn't MY calling, and it'll always make me restless and hungry for something more. Working there has given me plenty of time to observe society, but no way to respond to it. I have learned a lot of useful skills, but now I am just ... re-using those skills, and I don't know where or how to find new ones. I even put off getting promoted because I was positive that I would be moving on, and I didn't want to waste anyone's time by training me.

Anyway, as we all know, God usually has something in mind that is very different from what we expect. This time around, it was not going to grad school in the fall of 2013. And I could not for the life of me figure out WHY--what else was there to learn about this job? How else can I change, besides becoming a shift supervisor (which will only provide a quick intellectual buzz and then fade back into the status quo)? How am I supposed to go to this job every damn day and not worry that this is all I am good for?

Gradually, I figured it out. It took getting a second job, working on two shows (in two capacities), and going basically nonstop with barely enough time to sleep and/or shower for a couple of months before I did, but here I am. Realizing (again.) that some of the stuff my mom used to tell me is actually, in fact, great wisdom.

In high school, and when I was home from college, I would have this problem where I would over-commit. I had friends in different circles, and I hated to tell someone I couldn't do anything because I already had plans with someone else, because it felt like I was picking a favorite. So I would agree to all of it, and drive all over everywhere so I could make it work. [1] And every so often, it would really get to me, and I would be sick of everyone and just want some time for myself--which of course I realized too late, since I was supposed to be going somewhere and I didn't want to let anyone down by backing out. In these moments, my mom would tell me that I needed to stop letting everyone else dictate the course of my life. I, of course, would be furious that she thought I was such a pushover.

Well kids, here I am, nearly 25 years old and realizing how much of a pushover I am. Less so by people, I guess, although I still cave pretty quickly (especially depending on who it is). Mostly, however, it's like Deirdre also used to say: I am so good at adapting to my surroundings that I forget to be myself.

I've spent ...well, at the very least, the last 12 years or so letting life have its way with me. Occasionally I would put my foot down and Make A Change, but pretty much only for the glaringly-big things. In daily life, in the course of weeks and months and (apparently) the last year and a half, I just kind of go along with things, because that's how it goes and I can deal.

But the thing is, I can't deal. I've been going crazy and I have been waiting and waiting for something to change so I will be happy and -- just ... what?

It occurred to me--during tech week, I think, or shortly after--that it's my goram life, and maybe there are things I can't change right now, but there are definitely things that I can. I can't just sit around and wait for conditions to be perfect. [2] If I want things to be different, I need to change them. I got lucky--I got so lucky [3]--that I spent the last several years being literally presented with problems to deal with, and ideas to work on, and people to interact with. I got so comfortable with it that I never really learned how to ... well, self-motivate, I guess, although that phrase seems sort of trite and cliche. I was always jealous of the friends who just Get Shit Done because I never seem to have the time or the inclination to Do those things. And what I realized is ... why not? When people say "you have to make the time" I always respond with "I literally don't have any."

...but Piera. Why not.

Because I spend all of my energy waiting for something to cause me to move. And when nothing does, I find the closest most appealing activity that I can get my hands on, because clearly the magic of discovering a new thing signifies that it will change me. Obviously, this isn't working for me. I have so many things to write, so many books to read. I have let my intellect sort of wither and fade, because nothing external is pushing me to use it. And then I had the audacity to complain that I was losing myself -- because I kept looking for external forces to give me a reason to use them. I was bored, and I forgot to use the one resource I have always had: my own mind. [4]

I will not just be carried downstream anymore; I'm building a raft and I'm learning to steer. This is why I didn't get accepted to grad school: because I can't keep waiting for life to flow in the direction I want it to go. Some parts are necessary and unchangeable--I have a good job, and full-time hours, and I don't love it all the time but it's what I have and that's how it goes right now. But that job doesn't define me. But that job won't define me unless I let it. And I am very done letting it.

So this is my plan. I quit my second job. I turned down a stage managing offer. I claimed the desk in the new apartment and I will assign myself Office Hours, and I will Get Shit Done. Grad school apps, round two. Blogging. Reading. Catching up on my Greek. I even completed day one of my couch-to-5k program this afternoon. [5]

Sometimes, we have no control over life. I believe firmly that we are incapable of controlling it as a whole, because we are broken and human. We are, however, able to control how we react to it, learn from it, change because of it. It's easy for me to look at Big Scary Life Events and say well, we can't control what happens, we just have to learn how to deal. I'm good at that. But what I learned recently is that we also have no control over the fact that sometimes life is mundane. The Big Stuff, I accept as a challenge. I welcome challenge. The little stuff, however, I let take over. And I'm going to... stop letting it. It's going to take more self-discipline than I am used to exercising, because let's face it, the only reason I was so motivated in college was because grades were involved. Real life doesn't have grades. It just has me, being supremely disappointed in myself, which honestly has never been enough of a reason for change. [6] And I have a sneaking suspicion that starting to change this part of my life will create the groundwork for my alleged final level-up into "adulthood" (if not shove me into it altogether, but let's not get too excited).

So this is my plan, because it never gets easier. Hell, it never gets anywhere if you don't start trying.

---
[1] Well technically, I would make my mom drive me everywhere. Which is probably why she started telling me to cut it the hell out.
[2] My last post, but the body is weak, talks a lot about this already, but with less ... I don't know, revelation. That post was a recognition of the situation; this one is ... A Plan Of Sorts.
[3] Except I don't believe in luck, I believe in design, but it sounds sort of poetic here so I'll stick with it
[4] I get bonus points for saying Very Dramatic Things, right?
[5] It was pathetic. Just sayin.
[6] As aside here about stewardship, and how not using my talents for the glory of God is like burying them to "keep them safe," and I'm feeling very passionate in this post so it's coming out from a "I have to be good enough for myself" perspective when there's a whole lot of Jesus and grace and things actually involved. I'm just stating for the record that all of this falls under the category of "Already Assuming XY and Z"

but the body is weak

"oh my god, have you listened to me lately? lately i've been going crazy ... " (some nights (intro) / fun)

It's true. Lately, I've been ... well, overworked, and burnt out, but that's a result of the show I'm doing and won't be the case after next weekend. But aside from that? Lately I've been unhappy, and restless, and even more anxious than usual. Lately I've been ... hurting, and aside from a few specific-but-not-comprehensive reasons, I haven't been able to figure out why. I always try to pinpoint the heart of my problems so that I can "fix" them, and so far, it hasn't helped.

Primarily I blame my job/life situation. It's all I can freaking talk about these days, apparently. I am sick of waking up before the sun. I am sick of feeling anxiety about staying up past 10 pm. I am sick of not stretching my brain or learning things, sick of not getting any closer to grad school or a career, sick of pandering to the entitled narcissism of our society. So I have started The Job Hunt, because clearly the problem is that I need a new job, and once I have one, I will be happy again.

But ... that doesn't fix it. It's not about creating a new scenario in which conditions are perfect [1]. Because how will getting a new job push me to start working out? Or start blogging more? Or start reading all the articles and links people send me, which gives me more thinking and blogging material? Not to mention the books I want to read, or the writing I want to do. New job =/= free time, inspiration, and/or motivation. I've been saying that not using my intellect at work makes it easier not to use it at home, but the truth of the matter is that using my intellect at work will just make me want to not use it at home (and also, probably, give me a 'better' excuse for not doing it).

I was talking to a friend today about timing and about plans. And I basically paraphrased my mom, who always used to tell me that life doesn't work on an "if/then" basis. You can't wait to start something until you do something else, because then your entire life is contingent on you doing that one thing. If you want to do something, you have to make yourself DO it, regardless of the timing. This is stuff I've known forever, and applied in weird places [2]. Apparently it's also stuff I believe in enough to tell other people--but not to take to heart. Because the presence of Starbucks in my life isn't the problem. It might be a problem, but not the underlying one. And neither is not getting into grad school, or feeling out of touch with my friends who don't live around here.

You guys, I have a confession. I haven't been to church in ... a really long time. I didn't even go on Easter Sunday because of a ridiculous scheduling error (I don't want to talk about it) and recently, I can tell. I can almost physically feel how badly I want need to start going on a regular basis. I've known for a while, I even took Sundays off, and I always have the intent to get up in the morning and go. But I haven't, because it's the first day that I don't have to be somewhere. Or because Aaron didn't get home until 6am and I don't want to go without him. Or because (just like in college) I'm just tired, and my instinctive reflex is to shut off my alarm and worry about it later. At least in college I had communion services on Wednesday. The church in town we've managed to go to (twice) only does communion every other Sunday, and guess which Sundays we actually attended. I'll give you a hint: it wasn't the communion Sundays.

And I've known that this is the problem for ... a while. I've been feeling it creep up on me. It's not that I don't think church is important, because I totally do. [3] I guess I've just never been this aware of how much I needed that forgiveness and sanctification in my life [4]. It's never really been this bad before. And it's weird because was never an intentional thing, it's just sort of how it happened. But now this is routine, and I need to break out of it, because I am convinced that re-establishing a norm for myself IS going to fix the problem, especially if that norm is a foundation of faith and hope.

So I'm going to make the effort to go to church more. And to actually bust out the Treasury of Daily Prayer that Keaton and Rebekah got us, and to spend more time focusing on Scripture and less on the daily drama I can't do anything about anyway.

And I'm scared. Because that right there is a lot of law, and I know I'm not going to stick with it. So a huge part of me wants to shrug it off--why bother starting, if you're just going to flake out anyway? But that brings me back to the idea of plans, and timing, and getting stuff done. And I know for a fact that I need to work on reconstructing the way I look at time as a whole. I already know that I can't create for myself a weekly schedule, because my life is never that easy to coordinate. So I just need to take one day at a time, and let it be what it is. Will I be productive at all this coming week? For goodness sake, no. It's tech week. Who am I kidding. What I can do is let it be tech week, and not expect anything to get done, and worry about the future ... in the future. Because conditions will NOT be perfect, ever, and sometimes you just have to make do without the business socks [5].

And at the very least, I'll go to church on Sunday. But pray for me, brothers and sisters. Because the spirit is willing, but ... my bed is just so comfy ...

---
[1] every time I use that phrase, I am actually quoting the Flight of the Conchords song "Business Time" in my head
[2] like breakups, for which there is never a good time, or in my personal philosophy regarding design and "predestination"
[3] please see this link (sent to me by my mom) for the quickest/best explanation for why we should go to church on a regular basis
[4] my use of the term "sanctification" is totally a result of watching a Rev Fisk video - click here for the link and go to approx. 4:50 for the definition if you don't want to watch the entire thing
[5] see [1]. and this video.

thanks, i like my glasses too

My one professor, who said he would be happy to recommend me for graduate school, hasn't turned in his letter. It was due on Saturday. The popular consensus is that I have to call him and speak to him directly about it. I mean, most likely he forgot (he's busy! and also a poet), and probably once I mention it he'll immediately feel terrible and send it in. But ... I don't want to call him. It feels so horribly confrontational. I don't want to make him feel bad, and I don't want to be in his face about a huge favor he is doing for me. I know, I know, he said he would, and it would just be being assertive--I get all of this. But it doesn't change the fact that presenting the problem to him (and in an actual conversation, not behind the safety of email) is terrifying.

Confrontation is one of those cliche things to be afraid of, and therefore, it really annoys me that I am so afraid of it. Especially because I also know exactly which childhood event made me hate it so much, and which other past events fueled that fear, and it's all so textbook that I feel like I really just need to get over it. And to make matters worse, the few times I do choose to be confrontational are usually influenced by adrenaline (or sometimes alcohol, but I never said that) and I go a little overboard and cause problems rather than actually being helpful. I have approximately one friend (you know who you are) with whom I am blatantly, confrontationally honest, but that's because our relationship started off that way. I was at a time in my life when I didn't have a lot to lose, and I was sick of not saying what I thought. That time, unfortunately, has passed.

What I hate most about this situation is the fact that it's not just about confrontation in the "let me tell you something you may or may not want to hear" sense. It's about how I live my life, and how I present myself to other people. It's about being afraid to be a person who makes a statement. It's about having people in my life who I really like, and want desperately to like me, but I spend so much time trying not to be a certain way that I forget to have a personality at all. And then when I let go and act like myself, I over-analyze other people's reactions and try to adapt my personality to fit what I think they want. Problem A: I'm really bad at reading people. Problem B: seriously, Piera? how old are you again? Apparently I never grew up past sophomore year. (actually, ironically, I was more outgoing in tenth grade than I am now. I try not to think about that.)

For example, I like the way I look without glasses. But aside from the fact that my eyes are totally messed up and it's hard for me to focus on things--it's scary not to wear them. I have big plastic colorful frames and I like them because they make a statement, and because people notice my glasses and not my face. It's not even that I don't like my face. I just feel exposed without something bold between me and the other person.

And then there's all this second-guessing before I even start a thing. I can't just let it be what it is, and deal with things as they come--I have to analyze it all and troubleshoot all the possible outcomes and then I end up not getting started in the first place. I downloaded the Couch-to-5K app on my phone, because I really do want to have some kind of workout routine. Partially it's to be healthy, partially it's to see if I'm less tired all the time, partially it's because I want to feel better about my body, partially (mostly?) it's because I want to still look good after I have babies, and I guess I should probably start that now. And I've heard good things about the Couch to 5K program, and it sounds kind of excellent because I have NO exercise in my life right now... but then there are all these factors to think about. Do I pay $1.99 for the actual app or just use the free knockoff version? Which three days of the week will I work out? Should I get a gym membership so I don't have to run in the icky cold snow? Should I go by distance or by time? Should I start doing yoga on my non-running days? Can I just get a yoga dvd and hope that I'm doing it right, or should I join a class? When will I have time for all of this?
...see problem B, above.
It's not like it's even that hard. The whole idea is you just ... start doing it, and see how it works out, and take it slow, and ease yourself into it. But apparently that's not good enough for me. I have to know what I'm doing and how it will work and I have to have a Plan before I can start doing anything. And then, you guessed it, nothing ever changes. Because I don't have the answers and I'm mostly just afraid to find out on my own.

It gets to me because I know better. I have a foundation that is stronger than my emotions, and more important than whether people like me. I am saved by grace through faith; I am living as a person who is free; God's grace toward me was not in vain. I know all of this. I think somewhere at my core I really do believe all of it--I just don't know how to make it relevant. There is a disconnect somewhere between eternal salvation and my everyday life. Because salvation matters on the grand, life-and-death-and-hope-and-a-future scale, and my personal interaction ... doesn't. Because I can't see how it matters whether I feel comfortable in my skin, whether people like me, whether I feel confident and useful and worthy. I believe so much in design and in the grand construction of time and the world, and I believe so strongly in καιρός (the Greek term for "the perfect moment" or "suitable/favorable occasion"), that I've taught myself not to worry about each individual moment. Time is fleeting, and what matters now won't matter in the end, so why bother worrying?

This belief is both a huge relief and a huge hindrance. On the one hand--if it doesn't matter, and if time is fleeting, why be anxious about asking my professor about his letter? The moment will pass. Be bold, be confident, live your life because you only have right now to do it. But it also makes it harder to get anything done, because if the moment will pass then why bother doing anything in the first place? My self-consciousness, my personality, my whole existence is just a moment in time in the grand scheme of things, so why should it be relevant? Does God's grace extend even to my feeling confident in everyday conversation, to my ability to speak clearly and boldly and without fear?

I know it does. I know it does, and that asking these questions is ridiculous. I was in Sunday school, I know all the stories about Jesus' love for his people. He turned water into wine at a wedding--how relevant was that on the grand scale, compared to feeding 5000 people or, you know, coming back to life? He hung out with the outcasts, and taught them, sure, but also probably just ... chilled, had conversation over dinner, that sort of thing. I know that God's love for the world doesn't just pertain to our salvation, but also to our lives--he knows how many hairs we have, he created our faces and our abilities and our preferences, he wants us to be happy. How many times have I said this to people or written about this or fallen back on it to shake off anxiety or depression? Like I said, I know better.

It's just ... hard. It's hard to remember that the little things matter. It's hard to remember that I matter, that people do like talking to me, that my professor will probably appreciate me calling him up to remind him about his letter because he really does want me to succeed. It's hard to look at the past and know where all these problems started, and then say "well, that sucked, but it's time to move on," but it's even harder to actually do it. It's hard to get off my ass and get stuff done, because it's so much easier and safer to stay here in my living room watching Bones than it is to take up new projects.

I'm going to call my professor, because it's more important for me to try to get into grad school than it is for me to be angsty about it. I'm (hopefully) going for a run (well, a walk) today because I want to start being healthier, but check back in a few weeks to see if I've made any progress. I went in and auditioned for a play because I miss acting, and it was kind of intimidating not to be around Concordia people who are supportive and fun, but I did it, and I feel pretty good about how it went down.

So there's all that. I need to hold on to my baptized, spiritual nature, and I need to remember that every moment, however temporary, counts for something. It doesn't count for everything, but that doesn't mean it isn't important.

And I need to remember that that same principle applies to me.

hell is for hipsters (i do so wish i could take credit for the title ...)

Keaton sent me this link to his friend's blog, and I was a little bit shocked to realize how close to home it hit. Which is, I think, a little ironic.

Quiet Lives of Desperation — or — Hell is for Hipsters

getting there

Kaylee: how come you don't care where you're going?
Book: 'cos how you get there is the worthier part. [1]

I have a 45 minute commute to work in the morning. At 4am I pretty much sail through the countryside, since I'm only sharing the road with the occasional semi truck or raccoon. But on the way home, there's a decent amount of traffic, and on a two-lane highway with a lot of curves, it's hard to pass the people who are afraid to even go 55mph (which is the actual speed limit). Because it's a country road and it's generally acceptable to be going somewhere between 60-65, getting stuck behind these drivers is incredibly frustrating. And most of the time, there's really nothing to be done. You're stuck going 50 mph behind a line of seven cars, and that's just how it's going to be.

On the bright side, a lot of driving time also equals a lot of thinking time. It occurs to me, while I'm hot and tired and impatient with people, that I'm still moving forward, one way or another, and there's more to the journey than just getting to your destination. I think about this in three-lane traffic too, when there's a mass of cars all moving the same speed, and merging around each other into different lanes. Aside from the fact that it's pretty fascinating that all those tons of metal are moving at high speeds as one general forward-moving group of people, there's also only so much that a person can do to get from Point A to Point B. Traffic might be going at 65 mph, and you might get up to 70 dodging around a car or two, but you're still going to get stuck behind more cars all going 65. You have three different lane options, but you still have to be aware of the people and the world around you. You can't just skip ahead to the place you're headed for--you have to pay attention to what's right in front of you. And in the end, it might take a little longer than you'd like to get where you're going, but you're still going to get there.

Am I the only crazy person finding some profundity in this?

The thing about life is... you just have to keep living it. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it's awesome. Sometimes you don't know how you're going to making through the day and sometimes you never want the day to end. But the world is still turning and eventually your body will make you sleep and if you want to keep taking care of yourself (let alone anyone else in your life) you'll have to wake up, and eat, and go to work, and so on.

And some days, I hate it. Some days I'm bored and I'm frustrated with my surroundings, and I just want to pass the car in front of me and move on to the next part of my life.

When I discovered Ecclesiastes 3 a couple of years ago, I was shocked at how directly it applied to my thought process. It's not that the rest of the Bible doesn't apply to me, but the first 13 verses of Ecclesiastes speak to my heart in a way that few passages do.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. (Ecc 3:1)

There is a time for everything. I believe in a God whose design for our lives is greater than our emotions. I believe in a God whose love is greater than my sadness. Or my boredom, for that matter. I believe we're all in the neverending process of learning and of growing, and as such, we're in the neverending process of moving forward. Because things still change. They have to. We have birthdays, go to school, get jobs--heck, we wake up and do stuff and go to sleep, just because it's what we're made to do. We create relationships with people who are also moving forward, and then we learn and grow from them, and sometimes they stay with us and sometimes they don't. Summer will turn into fall eventually, and then to winter, and then next year will be here and I will be remarking on how quickly the last year seemed to pass by. Life is more or less a string of moments, one after another, cause-and-effect, and every moment (whether it's made up of seconds or weeks or years) is affected by the past and changes the future. (see here for some nerdiness in regards to the Greek word for "season").

The point is, if I spent my whole life skipping from one momentous event to the next, I would miss all the life in between. And the thing about life is that it's not always fun or beautiful. Sometimes it's stupid or stressful or miserable. Sometimes it's just plain boring. Plus, by the way, it's impossible for me to actually skip the "boring" parts of my life. But fortunately I'm still moving forward, by necessity of the laws of nature, and everything changes. And what's more, everything changes in its own time (which is to say, everything changes on God's time, and not mine). My destination never changes--I know where I'll end up, and every day I'm another step closer--but for the present, I have to pay attention to my surroundings. And chances are good that something can be learned from those surroundings, even if it's as simple a thing as patience.

---

[1] from Serenity, the pilot episode of Firefly

born ready

Or: The Passing Thought that Turned into the Summation of (Almost) Everything I Believe

Life has this frustrating way of just ... progressing, regardless of how we feel about it. As a student (well, a post-student, anyway), I've gotten used to gearing up for the next section of my life. I'm a fan of the traditional school year because I can separate my life into pieces: fall semester, spring semester, summer. Repeat. Add some breaks in between to keep it from getting too much, and I'm set. I know what's coming, and I know, for the most part, how to prepare for it.

But then there's everything else that life throws at you, and there's really no way to be prepared. I wasn't ready for my parents to get a divorce, but it happened, and I had to deal with it. My aunt and uncle knew that their baby girl had a terminal illness, but they weren't prepared for her Father to take her home. I have friends who are single and lonely and feel long past ready to start a relationship; I have friends who got married and realized they might not have been ready. There's no way for us to know what's coming—nothing in this world is permanent, and even when we feel like we're ready for something, we never know exactly how it's going to go down. And it's easy to despair about that, because... well, because the unknown is just plain scary.

On a very basic level, you can perceive the challenges we face as opportunities God gives us in order to learn to trust that he knows what he's doing even when we haven't a clue. I thought this way for a long time, because it seemed to make sense: how can I work on strengthening my faith if everything in my life is going perfectly? Maybe God permits—even presents—these challenges, so that I will be constantly relying on him. I know that he loves me, and (as both Paul and the Beatles say) love is all you need [1], so maybe the point of... everything... is to learn to have faith, to be content in all things. [2]

But I'm not satisfied with this perception. Because on that basic level, it means that God is testing me. It means that he's throwing all this weird ~life stuff~ at me, just so I can prove that I trust him enough to get through it without... rejecting him? being unloving to the people around me? giving up? And we all know that somewhere along the line, I'm going to do one of those things (although I don't even know which of these I am trying to prove). No matter how hard I hold on to my faith, even the faintest of doubts is still a failure to find complete confidence in God's grace. And why would God intentionally test my ability to succeed when he knows I will continue to fail?

Except God doesn't test people like this anymore. He may have tested Abraham, back when the "in" thing was being as righteous as possible, but now that we have been given the gift of grace things work a little differently.

Here's the beauty of it: we are ready. What does it matter if we feel like it or not? When do we ever experience one pure, unadulterated emotion? Love + worry. Anger + hurt. Confidence + arrogance. Our human emotions get so jumbled and complicated, and we spend so much time trying to sort through them, that we start to believe they're all we have. I feel angry, so I'm going to tell him how stupid he is and why I'm clearly the better person. I feel worthless, so I must have absolutely no good qualities. We're emotional creatures: we feel a great deal in one given minute, but in half an hour it's an entirely different story. So why should our mood swings be perceived any differently than the way we feel about certain periods of life? The hurt and anger you feel after a breakup is not really so different from the hurt and anger you feel after an argument with your mom. It's maybe a little longer and a little more intense (and with less of the tension if-you-know-what-i-mean), but hurt is hurt and anger is anger. And regardless of the cause, it doesn't last forever, and it doesn't mean you'll never feel happy again. It means that for this moment, you're feeling X and Y feelings, and eventually they'll be replaced by new ones.

The thing is, our feelings can only tell us so much. It's dangerously easy to get completely lost in your emotions and lose sight of what's important; it's equally dangerous to disregard your emotions altogether. The mere fact that a person can do either of these things proves that an emotional response to something is not indicative of the thing itself. An emotional response is pretty much the sole responsibility of the person experiencing it, and not of whatever it was that caused it. And when we focus on making sure we "feel" ready, we're completely missing the point.

When it comes down to it, life is going to happen the way it happens (or doesn't), and there isn't much you can do about it. Sure, you have choices to make, but they can only get you so far. You can decide which car to buy or where to go to school, but you have no control over whether someone crashes into said car, or if you are presented with an excellent job opportunity that you weren't looking for. You can even decide you should get that job you applied for, because it's *perfect* for you, and but just because you think so doesn't mean the potential employer does. We can't possibly know all the factors involved in any given situation; all we have is what we know, and that knowledge is far more limited than we'd like to think.

But God's design is too good to catch him unawares. Only God, who knows every puzzle piece of his entire creation, knows all the factors involved in these situations. He knows the how and the why, and he knows where it will lead us. Our comprehension of the situation is irrelevant, because we're only one piece of a gigantic, intricate masterpiece.

Ecclesiastes 3 (which, for the record, is probably my favorite chapter of the Bible) explains... well... everything. People are most familiar with the "time for everything" bit: a time to be born, and to die, and to cast stones, and to pick up stones, κτλ. [3] "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." [4] There is comfort in this long list of things-that-happen-sometime-in-your-life, because it tells us that we aren't alone in our suffering, and that life is more than just the "season" [5] we happen to be experiencing. But the beauty of this passage—arguably, the beauty of life itself—is found in the paragraph just after the list. First, the author addresses the sense of futility that comes with knowing you can't stop life from happening: "What gain has the worker from his toil?" [6] What is the point of all of this work if there's nothing we can do to stop the future from happening?

And then he explains it: "[God] has made everything beautiful in its time." [7] God has given all things a purpose, and made all seasons and experiences beautiful at the perfect moments. The times to kill, the times to dance, the times to keep silence, the times for peace... they're all ordered by God, a part of his design and a part of the plans he has for us, "plans for welfare and not for evil, to give [us] a future and a hope." [8] Every season we experience, every moment of joy and sorrow and waiting and acting, are given to us exactly when we need them, and fit perfectly into God's design for our lives and for the lives of those around us. We can't comprehend that design, not fully—we only see parts of it, and even if we understand why our lives happen the way they do, we can't possibly see how it fits into the greater design of the entire body of Christ. God purposefully made us so that we "cannot find out what [he] has done from the beginning to the end" [9] ...but he also ensured that we don't have to. It's not our responsibility to know. God's design accounts for everyone, and he limited our understanding so that we have less to worry about. "I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God’s gift to man." [10]

So are we supposed to feel ready for what's to come? Of course not. There's no way to know what's going to happen, and no way to know how to deal with it, and even if we did, no way that we'd deal with it in the best possible way. But God's design is greater than our feelings of inadequacy as well as our inadequacy itself. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to happen, and everything is made beautiful in its own time. God gives us everything we need, exactly when we need it. [11]

Regardless of how we feel about it, we are always ready. We were born ready, born to face whatever the world throws at us, born to be strong enough to wait for the things to come. "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?" [12]

Relax. We can't see the whole picture, but we don't need to. All things happen in the perfect moment (εἰς τὸν καιρὸν), and all we can do is act in the present. This time will pass, and a new season will be upon us—so be joyful, and do good as long as you live. This is God's gift to you.

---
[1.1] 2 Corinthians 12:9a: But [the Lord] said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
[1.2] "All You Need Is Love" / the Beatles
[2] Philippians 4:10a-13: ...for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
[3] κτλ = the Greek version of "etc" (short for και τα λοιπά, [kai ta loipa] which means "and the rest")
[4] Ecclesiastes 3:1 ... see also verses 2-8: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.
[5] the word used here is καιρός (kairos), which does mean "season" or "time," but more appropriately means "time as opportunity," "the suitable/favorable occasion," "the perfect moment," κτλ.
[6] Ecclesiastes 3:9
[7] Ecclesiastes 3:11a
[8] Jeremiah 29:11b
[9] Ecclesiastes 3:11b
[10] Ecclesiastes 3:12-13
[11] Philippians 4:19: And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.
[12] Matthew 6:25-27

For Me This Is Heaven / Jimmy Eat World

(listen)
The first star I see may not be a star
We can't do a thing but wait
So let's wait for one more


And the time, such clumsy time
In deciding if it's time
I'm careful but not sure how it goes
You can lose yourself in your courage


When the time we have now ends
When the big hand goes round again
Can you still feel the butterflies?
Can you still hear the last goodnight?


And the mindless comfort grows 
When I'm alone with my 'great' plans
And this is what she says gets her through it
"If I don't let myself be happy now, then when?
If not now, when?"


The time we have now ends
And when the big hand goes round again
Can you still feel the butterflies?
Can you still hear the last goodnight?


I close my eyes and believe 
Wherever you are, an angel for me


When the time we have now ends
And when the big hand goes round again
Can you still feel the butterflies?
Can you still hear the last goodnight?

Unfortunately youtube only has the original Jimmy Eat World version—the one I listen to is an a cappella version that I only discovered thanks to my brother's friend from college, who had it on a mix that eventually made its way to my cd player. I don't actually know anything else by Jimmy Eat World (and I don't even know if the version I have was performed by them), but this is the song that can make me cry almost every time I listen to it.

It has only lately occurred to me how emotional I am. There's a term in Greek (which for the life of me I cannot remember) that my professor used to call "the fire in your belly," the kind of gut-wrenching emotion that has a nearly tangible physical presence. He always struggles to explain it in the English but it makes perfect sense to me, because I am quite familiar with the sensation.

This is one of the reasons I love music so much. This "fire in my belly" is only a result of something external, and music is an especially powerful trigger. I can find meaning in lyrics that the artist himself probably did not intend, but such a meaning that lights that fire and gives voice to the depth of my own emotion.

And this song. I listen to it periodically, at different (usually emotional) points in my life, and every time a different phrase stands out to me. I believe it was intended to be a breakup song but as far as I am concerned this is largely irrelevant, because it fits pretty exactly into the way I understand the perfectly-designed mess of my life. It's about the way that time passes, and the way we continually face the completely unexpected. It's about making plans and trashing them, about the end of things as much as hope of what's to come. It's about struggling to get through the day—and about finding the reasons to do so.

It's about life, in all its complex, painful, wonderful, chaotic beauty.

And sometimes I need that fire in my belly to see life for what it is.