AND NOW....
my first post in quite a while that is neither angsty nor philosophical nor religious nor brooding.
I just want to talk about how much I love CHRISTMAS!
I love it. It's November 10th, but already all I want to do is listen to Christmas music and do crafty things and watch heartwarming movies and drink warm mugs of liquid bursting with flavor.
And also, this year I started a 2011 Christmas Season Bucket List. I want to do all of these things, plus more, AND YOU'RE ALL INVITED. If you want to add more to the list please do! (please. Right now it's reached the level of 'heartwarming' but there needs to be a little more adventure in there.)
#1: Christmas In The Park
#2: Christmas Cookie Baking Party
#3: Christmas card making
#4: Knitting
#5: Putting up the Christmas Tree while listening to Johnny Mathis' Christmas album
#6: Watch A Charlie Brown's Christmas and Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, back-to-back
#7: Watch Elf
#8: Sledding, if it snows
Ok...now you fill in the rest.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Femininity (Not Just For The Ladiez)
You know God is trying to draw your attention to something when it starts popping up in random daily conversation, in the lives of your friends, in excerpts from books...
My current one: femininity. Not only is that a hard word to spell, it's also a hard word to say (fem-in-in-ity). Whenever I think consider writing about or contemplating femininity, I automatically feel like one of two things: a lesbian feminist or a textbook 'lonely girl' from He's Just Not That Into You.
Femininity is a touchy subject, especially from the mouths of women. People say masculinity is getting lost, but true femininity has been lost for just as long, if you ask me.
So obviously, just with what was mentioned above, there's a fear in even talking about the subject. What if diving into it causes us women to become one of those two things? Most of us fear both just as equally. But we have to start talking about it. And rewiring our perspectives on it. Because something I've noticed lately, too, in my own heart, is a buried hostility towards the feminine, which I find odd. Because mostly you hear of women harboring hostility towards the masculine, but hardly the feminine. And I don't just mean things like dresses and flowers, I mean women authors, leaders, thinkers, and the like. Example: I'm reading a book right now called Pilgrimage Of A Soul by Phileena Heuertz. I've known about this book for probably a year. And as most of you know, I'm enamored and wooed by contemplative living, and eat up any and all books written on the subject. But for some reason, I avoided buying this book like I avoid talking on the phone (I HATE talking on the phone and will avoid it for weeks. Sorry.) I would see it pop up everywhere online, in my Amazon recommendations, Twitter, personal emails...and I would find myself irritated by everything about it, down to the stupid butterfly on the cover. I just didn't want anything to do with this book. I didn't want to even hear what this woman had to say. I labeled it sappy and void of substance, just because (and I didn't realize it at the time) it was written by a girl. But, because it wouldn't get out of my life, I figured God was trying to tell me something. So I bought it. Shock surprise, it's INCREDIBLE. Blowing my mind. This woman is brilliant.
So at this point I'm just convicted. I don't feel like Phileena's book has proven to me that I should respect and embrace the feminine (although I understand that I should). I just feel like it's humbled me. It's humbled me to respect my own gender. And not only that, but honor it. And maybe, it's causing me to look at my own inferiority complex. Because obviously if I don't respect and honor my own gender, what does that say about how I view myself? If I think women authors have books that are void of intellectual substance, what do I think of my own mind? (stupid.) If I think women leaders don't know what they're doing, how do I view my own leadership? (incapable). What I'm getting at, what the bottom line is, is that I, personally, think women are inferior. It's hard for me to admit that, but I'm not drawing any other conclusions from what I'm writing, other then that fact. Women aren't as good as men. I know that's not true. But it's obviously what my heart thinks.
This is a surprising theme for me to be learning right now, really. But, I think God is opening my eyes to this more and more because, I, as a woman, as a privileged Western woman, need to fight for my gender. This mindset that I'm carrying, whether I like to admit it or not is contributing to sexism and gendercide around the world. Because all injustices start within the heart. Issues of the heart create ripple effects that create devastation around the world. No one just wakes up and wants to traffick someone. No one wakes up and wants to drive a country into ruin. It's all issues of the heart that grow and morph into monsters when they're left undealt with. And who knows if my negligence of valuing females could be robbing someone of their worth and perpetuating this terrible cycle that women are second to men.
It's a lot to think about.
My current one: femininity. Not only is that a hard word to spell, it's also a hard word to say (fem-in-in-ity). Whenever I think consider writing about or contemplating femininity, I automatically feel like one of two things: a lesbian feminist or a textbook 'lonely girl' from He's Just Not That Into You.
Femininity is a touchy subject, especially from the mouths of women. People say masculinity is getting lost, but true femininity has been lost for just as long, if you ask me.
So obviously, just with what was mentioned above, there's a fear in even talking about the subject. What if diving into it causes us women to become one of those two things? Most of us fear both just as equally. But we have to start talking about it. And rewiring our perspectives on it. Because something I've noticed lately, too, in my own heart, is a buried hostility towards the feminine, which I find odd. Because mostly you hear of women harboring hostility towards the masculine, but hardly the feminine. And I don't just mean things like dresses and flowers, I mean women authors, leaders, thinkers, and the like. Example: I'm reading a book right now called Pilgrimage Of A Soul by Phileena Heuertz. I've known about this book for probably a year. And as most of you know, I'm enamored and wooed by contemplative living, and eat up any and all books written on the subject. But for some reason, I avoided buying this book like I avoid talking on the phone (I HATE talking on the phone and will avoid it for weeks. Sorry.) I would see it pop up everywhere online, in my Amazon recommendations, Twitter, personal emails...and I would find myself irritated by everything about it, down to the stupid butterfly on the cover. I just didn't want anything to do with this book. I didn't want to even hear what this woman had to say. I labeled it sappy and void of substance, just because (and I didn't realize it at the time) it was written by a girl. But, because it wouldn't get out of my life, I figured God was trying to tell me something. So I bought it. Shock surprise, it's INCREDIBLE. Blowing my mind. This woman is brilliant.
So at this point I'm just convicted. I don't feel like Phileena's book has proven to me that I should respect and embrace the feminine (although I understand that I should). I just feel like it's humbled me. It's humbled me to respect my own gender. And not only that, but honor it. And maybe, it's causing me to look at my own inferiority complex. Because obviously if I don't respect and honor my own gender, what does that say about how I view myself? If I think women authors have books that are void of intellectual substance, what do I think of my own mind? (stupid.) If I think women leaders don't know what they're doing, how do I view my own leadership? (incapable). What I'm getting at, what the bottom line is, is that I, personally, think women are inferior. It's hard for me to admit that, but I'm not drawing any other conclusions from what I'm writing, other then that fact. Women aren't as good as men. I know that's not true. But it's obviously what my heart thinks.
This is a surprising theme for me to be learning right now, really. But, I think God is opening my eyes to this more and more because, I, as a woman, as a privileged Western woman, need to fight for my gender. This mindset that I'm carrying, whether I like to admit it or not is contributing to sexism and gendercide around the world. Because all injustices start within the heart. Issues of the heart create ripple effects that create devastation around the world. No one just wakes up and wants to traffick someone. No one wakes up and wants to drive a country into ruin. It's all issues of the heart that grow and morph into monsters when they're left undealt with. And who knows if my negligence of valuing females could be robbing someone of their worth and perpetuating this terrible cycle that women are second to men.
It's a lot to think about.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Contemplative Balance
I am growing tired of extremes.
I've been asking myself when I will reach a point where I realize that contemplation is a necessity. I tend to treat it like a bad habit that needs to be repressed. But when I ignore contemplation, I notice characteristic consequences pop up. First, my utilization of mind numbing entertainment sky rockets. After that, it's social binges. And after those, after realizing how unfulfilling both of those are, it's sitting in my room eating spoonfuls of chocolate and feeling sorry for myself.
That sounds dramatic, but it's true. When I choose to not nurture the spirituality that I tend towards, I spiral downward faster than an crashing jet. Not to mention, when weeks or even months go by of ignoring it, I notice key aspects of my personality getting dumbed down as well--my intellect, my sense of humor, my social skills. Because by rejecting contemplation, I'm rejecting the way God created me and therefore rejecting myself. How can I thrive when I'm repressing the very thing that gives me life?
But then there's the other extreme. The contemplative life is a fairly new concept for me, I've only known about it less than a year. But as I've been exploring it, I began noticing that, just like everything else, contemplation has the ability to get distorted and skewed, very slowly and subtly, with us hardly noticing. In The Seven Storey Mountain, Thomas Merton talks about how great heights can be reached by 'metaphysical speculation', and that it can introduce someone into great and pure pleasures, that only get deeper as you speculate more on things you're learning. But sometimes, even if someone is learning great things about the Christian faith, those speculations won't transcend the 'natural realm' (the tangible world, visible to the eye) into the 'spiritual realm' (the world invisible to the eye, or, union with God, which is the purpose of contemplation).
He goes on to say, "In such an event, you get, not contemplation, but a kind of intellectual and esthetic gluttony--a high and refined and even virtuous form of selfishness. And when it leads to no movement of the will towards God, no efficacious love of Him, it is sterile and dead, this meditation, and could even accidentally become, under certain circumstances, a kind of a sin--at least an imperfection."
At first, that was hard for me to read. It made my stomach turn thinking that this new spiritual discipline I had discovered had the potential to turn really ugly. But on the other hand, I was slightly comforted because I figured out why I would sometimes come out of time spent in reflection and solitude (times that were supposed to be rich with inner peace and satisfaction of communion with a Being completely outside of myself) feeling weighted by selfishness, my sight darkened by self indulgence.
And I'm still working on finding the balance. Judging by my track record with life, you can probably guess that it will take me a long time to figure it out. Although I'm finding that all things concerning God are never about arriving at the end, but being patient in the upwards spiral of growth and learning. I do still pray, though, that the times of bobbing back and forth between ignoring contemplation all together and diving in so much that I'm drowning in my own pride and pleasure at having 'arrived' at such spiritual heights, will grow fewer and farther between, and I can dwell in God's presence, not dependent on emotion or feeling, but with a still and quiet soul as Psalm 131:2 states. "Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, My soul is like a weaned child within me."
I've been asking myself when I will reach a point where I realize that contemplation is a necessity. I tend to treat it like a bad habit that needs to be repressed. But when I ignore contemplation, I notice characteristic consequences pop up. First, my utilization of mind numbing entertainment sky rockets. After that, it's social binges. And after those, after realizing how unfulfilling both of those are, it's sitting in my room eating spoonfuls of chocolate and feeling sorry for myself.
That sounds dramatic, but it's true. When I choose to not nurture the spirituality that I tend towards, I spiral downward faster than an crashing jet. Not to mention, when weeks or even months go by of ignoring it, I notice key aspects of my personality getting dumbed down as well--my intellect, my sense of humor, my social skills. Because by rejecting contemplation, I'm rejecting the way God created me and therefore rejecting myself. How can I thrive when I'm repressing the very thing that gives me life?
But then there's the other extreme. The contemplative life is a fairly new concept for me, I've only known about it less than a year. But as I've been exploring it, I began noticing that, just like everything else, contemplation has the ability to get distorted and skewed, very slowly and subtly, with us hardly noticing. In The Seven Storey Mountain, Thomas Merton talks about how great heights can be reached by 'metaphysical speculation', and that it can introduce someone into great and pure pleasures, that only get deeper as you speculate more on things you're learning. But sometimes, even if someone is learning great things about the Christian faith, those speculations won't transcend the 'natural realm' (the tangible world, visible to the eye) into the 'spiritual realm' (the world invisible to the eye, or, union with God, which is the purpose of contemplation).
He goes on to say, "In such an event, you get, not contemplation, but a kind of intellectual and esthetic gluttony--a high and refined and even virtuous form of selfishness. And when it leads to no movement of the will towards God, no efficacious love of Him, it is sterile and dead, this meditation, and could even accidentally become, under certain circumstances, a kind of a sin--at least an imperfection."
At first, that was hard for me to read. It made my stomach turn thinking that this new spiritual discipline I had discovered had the potential to turn really ugly. But on the other hand, I was slightly comforted because I figured out why I would sometimes come out of time spent in reflection and solitude (times that were supposed to be rich with inner peace and satisfaction of communion with a Being completely outside of myself) feeling weighted by selfishness, my sight darkened by self indulgence.
And I'm still working on finding the balance. Judging by my track record with life, you can probably guess that it will take me a long time to figure it out. Although I'm finding that all things concerning God are never about arriving at the end, but being patient in the upwards spiral of growth and learning. I do still pray, though, that the times of bobbing back and forth between ignoring contemplation all together and diving in so much that I'm drowning in my own pride and pleasure at having 'arrived' at such spiritual heights, will grow fewer and farther between, and I can dwell in God's presence, not dependent on emotion or feeling, but with a still and quiet soul as Psalm 131:2 states. "Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, My soul is like a weaned child within me."
Friday, September 30, 2011
Two Weeks Of Juice
Today marks the day of my longest juice fast yet. Fourteen days. I'd say that's impressive. I guess.
So I woke up this morning, at 9 am, got an Ezekial sprouted grain tortilla, put some almond butter on it, drank some coffee...I was expecting my taste buds to explode. Didn't really happen. I was expecting tons of energy. Didn't really happen. Instead I actually got depressed. My stomach was full. I now have access to any and all food I want, really. That doesn't make me excited. It makes me feel a little overfed.
I think there's something interesting that happens during a juice fast. You never realize all you learn or experience until you take your first bite of food again. I was reflecting during the fast, wondering what I was learning, and honestly, I couldn't think of much. I didn't feel transformed. I didn't feel connected to God, at all. Which really shocked me. Because when you willingly lay down food, something that is such a comfort for so long, you expect God to just flood in. But he didn't. I just felt normal. Not like he was close, or like he was far away. Just normal. Level. Steady.
But then today I ate food again. It tasted good for like five seconds and then it was nothing special. I was disappointed. And then, for the first time in two weeks...I felt God rush in. That familiar feeling that I can never describe fully to anyone, that feeling of my soul groaning and my heart being emptied, yet being comforted somehow by something that I can't pinpoint. What did I feel like he was saying? That my fast, although it was a bold move, is not the fix that I wanted it to be. It didn't bring freedom and release like I thought it would. Maybe it could, at another time. I know fasts are powerful. But this one was simply a prelude to a butt-load of healing and challenges to come. I'm at the beginning of something. Not the end.
How do I feel about that? Frustrated. And annoyed. And tired. But the more I try at this whole thing, the more I realize that something else besides me is guiding the perfect timing for my healing. And I'm a little out of control in all of this. Not in a way that makes me feel chaotic, but a way that makes me feel peace actually.
So...imma let it roll. Let it be.
And if you want to go out for coffee or greek food or salad or hummus or something...I can do that now.
So I woke up this morning, at 9 am, got an Ezekial sprouted grain tortilla, put some almond butter on it, drank some coffee...I was expecting my taste buds to explode. Didn't really happen. I was expecting tons of energy. Didn't really happen. Instead I actually got depressed. My stomach was full. I now have access to any and all food I want, really. That doesn't make me excited. It makes me feel a little overfed.
I think there's something interesting that happens during a juice fast. You never realize all you learn or experience until you take your first bite of food again. I was reflecting during the fast, wondering what I was learning, and honestly, I couldn't think of much. I didn't feel transformed. I didn't feel connected to God, at all. Which really shocked me. Because when you willingly lay down food, something that is such a comfort for so long, you expect God to just flood in. But he didn't. I just felt normal. Not like he was close, or like he was far away. Just normal. Level. Steady.
But then today I ate food again. It tasted good for like five seconds and then it was nothing special. I was disappointed. And then, for the first time in two weeks...I felt God rush in. That familiar feeling that I can never describe fully to anyone, that feeling of my soul groaning and my heart being emptied, yet being comforted somehow by something that I can't pinpoint. What did I feel like he was saying? That my fast, although it was a bold move, is not the fix that I wanted it to be. It didn't bring freedom and release like I thought it would. Maybe it could, at another time. I know fasts are powerful. But this one was simply a prelude to a butt-load of healing and challenges to come. I'm at the beginning of something. Not the end.
How do I feel about that? Frustrated. And annoyed. And tired. But the more I try at this whole thing, the more I realize that something else besides me is guiding the perfect timing for my healing. And I'm a little out of control in all of this. Not in a way that makes me feel chaotic, but a way that makes me feel peace actually.
So...imma let it roll. Let it be.
And if you want to go out for coffee or greek food or salad or hummus or something...I can do that now.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Deflated Ego
Nothing in my head or my heart is my own.
I am a mass of the thoughts, theories, and musings of other people.
Is that normal?
I am neither profound nor exceptional.
Who is?
My heart made up a 'should's' and my life is a race to meet the requirements and standards of the world around me.
And so is yours.
Will I ever be my own?
Is anyone their own?
"I said to myself, “Behold, I have magnified and increased wisdom more than all who were over Jerusalem before me; and my mind has observed a wealth of wisdom and knowledge.” And I set my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly; I realized that this also is striving after wind. Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain."
"So I turned to consider wisdom, madness and folly; for what will the man do who will come after the king except what has already been done? And I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness. The wise man’s eyes are in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I know that one fate befalls them both. Then I said to myself, “As is the fate of the fool, it will also befall me. Why then have I been extremely wise?” So I said to myself, “This too is vanity.” For there is no lasting remembrance of the wise man as with the fool, inasmuch as in the coming days all will be forgotten. And how the wise man and the fool alike die! So I hated life, for the work which had been done under the sun was grievous to me; because everything is futility and striving after wind." Ecclesiastes 1: 17-18, Ecclesiastes 2: 12-17
I am a mass of the thoughts, theories, and musings of other people.
Is that normal?
I am neither profound nor exceptional.
Who is?
My heart made up a 'should's' and my life is a race to meet the requirements and standards of the world around me.
And so is yours.
Will I ever be my own?
Is anyone their own?
"I said to myself, “Behold, I have magnified and increased wisdom more than all who were over Jerusalem before me; and my mind has observed a wealth of wisdom and knowledge.” And I set my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly; I realized that this also is striving after wind. Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain."
"So I turned to consider wisdom, madness and folly; for what will the man do who will come after the king except what has already been done? And I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness. The wise man’s eyes are in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I know that one fate befalls them both. Then I said to myself, “As is the fate of the fool, it will also befall me. Why then have I been extremely wise?” So I said to myself, “This too is vanity.” For there is no lasting remembrance of the wise man as with the fool, inasmuch as in the coming days all will be forgotten. And how the wise man and the fool alike die! So I hated life, for the work which had been done under the sun was grievous to me; because everything is futility and striving after wind." Ecclesiastes 1: 17-18, Ecclesiastes 2: 12-17
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