So I'm sitting in the San Fransisco airport and it is 10:30am. I have been up for 10 hours already, and have already eaten lunch, because my body thinks it is 1:30 in the afternoon. I'm going to be up for at least 10 more hours and I have 194 pages of reading to complete in my required reading book The Brothers K (which you should definitely read) before I arrive in Medford. My friends got up at 3am to drive me to the Philly airport because they're awesome. Brunch (if that's what you would call a second breakfast) consisted of delicious tomato bisque in a bread bowl. My second flight is a little late, gifting me with more reading time (which I'm probably debunking by blogging).
BUT. The coolest part of my day yet was the conversation I had with the guy sitting next to me on the flight here. Taylor taught Philosophy at a school right around the corner from mine for awhile and worked with Eastern to design their brochure. Pretty nifty. But THEN he told me that he was actually on that flight because he's on his way to Thailand. He's going there to stay at a Buddhist monastery where he's going to participate in a 10 day silent retreat.
So awesome. I almost changed my flight to go with him. =P
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
A Bilbo Baggins Farewell
“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And wither then? I cannot say.
-Bilbo Baggins, The Long Expected Party
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And wither then? I cannot say.
-Bilbo Baggins, The Long Expected Party
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Now
People keep asking me if I'm excited to go to Oregon. I'm tired of that question because it's not where I am yet. It's where I'll be in 3 days. But it's not where I am now. Today I am here in Philly. Today I took 43 people to Camden to be open, to learn, and to see. Tonight my head is hungry for the nearest pillow and I am tired of people, but glad because I have seen so many friends that I haven't seen in months. I am living in the now. I will be excited for Oregon when I get there and it is my now. :)
Friday, August 19, 2011
Sad Number Two
I tried to fit everything I needed for one semester into one suitcase (and my backpack), but alas, I needed two. Sad story.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Nordic Walking
Our first exchange student and her family are visiting from Germany this week and they told me about this bizarre sport that's gaining popularity in Germany and all over Europe -- Nordic walking. They didn't really understand the appeal of it -- basically it's just walking, but with ski poles in your hands. My German sister's brother and I decided to test it out for ourselves to figure out if there was something amazing about it that we were missing in the description, so we scavenged the basement for ski poles and went for a walk around the block barefoot. I think the appeal must lie in the high one gets from making a fool of themselves because the only thing that made the exercise better for my body was the ab workout I got from laughing so hard. We also tried our hand at Nordic running. That was a sight to see. :)
Saturday, August 13, 2011
African Proverb
Every time I go to work, I pass the Harriet Tubman house and wish I could stop, but it's always closed when I'm passing it and I'm always in a rush anyway. Well today we went. I wish there was more in the way of secret hiding spots for runaway slaves and stuff, but I guess now that I think about it, they wouldn't have been that necessary in Auburn, NY. It was cool nonetheless and in the museum I read a poster about music that had an African proverb on it that I really liked:
"The Spirit will not descend without a song."
We also got to see where she was buried. There was a huge group of African American people dressed in white at the cemetery having some kind of ceremony to honor her. It was pretty awesome.
"The Spirit will not descend without a song."
We also got to see where she was buried. There was a huge group of African American people dressed in white at the cemetery having some kind of ceremony to honor her. It was pretty awesome.
Transition Time
Transition times in one's life are sort of supposed to be a time of movement from one normal to another. Yet I feel like for the past few years, my life has been moving and molding at such a pace that the actual act of transitioning has become the new normal. I left Casowasco today and although the sock and watch tan lines are still vibrant and the smell of smoke is more than skin deep, I'm officially done with the craziness of a summer of camp.
Now I am home for a week before I leave for Philadelphia, where I will also be for a week, and then I will fly to Oregon for my fall semester and stay there until just before Christmas. The thing that got me thinking about transitions the most however, is not so much that as it is the bed I am sleeping in tonight. I am sleeping in my old bedroom.
Every time I come home I usually sleep in the guest room which has sort of become my room, or I sleep on the floor somewhere or a couch or something. But my sister, brother-in-law, and niece are sleeping in that room and for one blissful night before more company arrives, I have this bedroom to myself.
It's weird though. I haven't slept on this bed since I was in high school. It brings back memories of the community I was invested in then. My mom used to come in and yell at me on school nights for being awake really late, talking to my friends online. I had a network of friends I felt really connected to that I had met on a Christian forum and I invested a lot of time in the conversations and relationships I had with them. I can't believe how much time I spent online. It's not my preferred way of communicating now, but I don't regret it. It's just so different and foreign to me now.
Then right after high school graduation, I jumped right into a summer job at camp where I was torn away from the internet, took my first steps away from my consistent investment in my home church, almost completely lost touch with my friends from high school, entered into my first dating relationship, and built an entirely new kind of community with a Christian staff of crazy, awesome coworkers. This was a new level of community for me. Tangible people, eager to talk about Jesus, all with a common mission. I remember not wanting to leave.
But alas -- right after camp ended I was thrown straight into Mission Year. A slap in the face compared to the life I'd lived before. A huge dose of cultural humility and a gargantuan gift of some of the most beautiful Christian community I may ever experience. This was a time where I learned to see the worth God has given -- to myself, to others, to the creation around us. This was a time where I learned about brokenness. Where I learned how to think deeply. Where I learned to ask questions that probed the soul and pierced the heart. I definitely did not want to leave.
Right after Mission Year I jumped into college. It took a lot longer to build trusting relationships than it did during Mission Year. I felt lonely. But I also was pushed to be more responsible for my own growth. I struggled to be okay with being there, but eventually realized college to be a gift of time to equip myself. I really dove into academics. I read everything assigned to me. I loved so much of it. My mind was working full time, being pushed intellectually -- it wandered to places where I daydreamed about anything and everything, about the world becoming more beautiful, about healing, about relationships with my friends from school and Mission Year and camp and the internet. I spent a lot of time by myself doing schoolwork... growing still, but in a completely different way than the physical growth of camp or the emotional growth of mission year. I got to meet several of my "cyber" friends during this year. The way I related to my Mission Year teammates -- who were so recently my family -- changed. My relationship with God seemed to become a lot more necessary and I learned a lot about listening and speaking with God during this time.
But the year came to a close and with a few weeks between school and camp, I spent a week of vacation with two of my Mission Year teammates, which reminded me of the beauty of intentional community but also the difficulty that comes with it. I also got to spend some more restful time with God.
The restfulness ended as soon as I got to camp. The past ten weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. It was a completely different experience than the last time I was there. A largely new staff, for one. I wasn't in a relationship, for two. And I wasn't a counselor this time around -- I was an programmatic assistant in The Highlands -- a wilderness outpost section of camp that is remote and sometimes forgotten about. Instead of interacting with a large rotation of staff, my main relationship was the girl I was assisting all summer and the new rotation of campers each week. I taught kids how to cook, did dishes, pushed schedules, taught a poop load of random things -- like how to tie knots, shoot archery, make stoves out of cans, take a dump in the woods, take military showers, etc -- slept under the stars, fixed bedwetting situations, provided first-aid, and a squillion other things. All that to say it was a completely new experience. Overall, I'm glad for it. But I didn't have much in the way of space or time to think, process, pray, or even sleep. Now it's over and I've said goodbye to a bunch of people that I may or may not ever see again. I'm not sure if I'm getting tired of all these new communities or if I was just too tired to care as much, but honestly, I wasn't as sad as I usually was. Transitioning is just what has to happen now.
Community from home, online community, camp community, Mission Year community, college community. They've all been the biggest part of my life at one point or another and a few from each place stick around and stay in contact, leaving me with friends all over the country and all over the world. I'm quickly heading to school to reunite with a past community for a week before heading to Oregon to add a new one to my list. And who knows what will happen after that.
Being home for the past ten hours has reminded me that my family is another one of those communities that I'm in and out of touch with. I sometimes feel like they get stuck with me when I'm in transition mode and I'm not focused on them, but on the things I need to prepare or the rest that I need or the connections I need to make happen. This leaves me feeling like they're being gypped of the love and energy they deserve from me. I am working on this.
In the midst of all the craziness though, I have to look back and realize that it's been a little over 2 years that all of this has taken place in and realize how incredible that is. I have changed and grown so much. I've morphed into a completely different person than I was and I know that a couple years from now I will have changed again. It's beautiful and good and ridiculous. It's life.
Now I am home for a week before I leave for Philadelphia, where I will also be for a week, and then I will fly to Oregon for my fall semester and stay there until just before Christmas. The thing that got me thinking about transitions the most however, is not so much that as it is the bed I am sleeping in tonight. I am sleeping in my old bedroom.
Every time I come home I usually sleep in the guest room which has sort of become my room, or I sleep on the floor somewhere or a couch or something. But my sister, brother-in-law, and niece are sleeping in that room and for one blissful night before more company arrives, I have this bedroom to myself.
It's weird though. I haven't slept on this bed since I was in high school. It brings back memories of the community I was invested in then. My mom used to come in and yell at me on school nights for being awake really late, talking to my friends online. I had a network of friends I felt really connected to that I had met on a Christian forum and I invested a lot of time in the conversations and relationships I had with them. I can't believe how much time I spent online. It's not my preferred way of communicating now, but I don't regret it. It's just so different and foreign to me now.
Then right after high school graduation, I jumped right into a summer job at camp where I was torn away from the internet, took my first steps away from my consistent investment in my home church, almost completely lost touch with my friends from high school, entered into my first dating relationship, and built an entirely new kind of community with a Christian staff of crazy, awesome coworkers. This was a new level of community for me. Tangible people, eager to talk about Jesus, all with a common mission. I remember not wanting to leave.
But alas -- right after camp ended I was thrown straight into Mission Year. A slap in the face compared to the life I'd lived before. A huge dose of cultural humility and a gargantuan gift of some of the most beautiful Christian community I may ever experience. This was a time where I learned to see the worth God has given -- to myself, to others, to the creation around us. This was a time where I learned about brokenness. Where I learned how to think deeply. Where I learned to ask questions that probed the soul and pierced the heart. I definitely did not want to leave.
Right after Mission Year I jumped into college. It took a lot longer to build trusting relationships than it did during Mission Year. I felt lonely. But I also was pushed to be more responsible for my own growth. I struggled to be okay with being there, but eventually realized college to be a gift of time to equip myself. I really dove into academics. I read everything assigned to me. I loved so much of it. My mind was working full time, being pushed intellectually -- it wandered to places where I daydreamed about anything and everything, about the world becoming more beautiful, about healing, about relationships with my friends from school and Mission Year and camp and the internet. I spent a lot of time by myself doing schoolwork... growing still, but in a completely different way than the physical growth of camp or the emotional growth of mission year. I got to meet several of my "cyber" friends during this year. The way I related to my Mission Year teammates -- who were so recently my family -- changed. My relationship with God seemed to become a lot more necessary and I learned a lot about listening and speaking with God during this time.
But the year came to a close and with a few weeks between school and camp, I spent a week of vacation with two of my Mission Year teammates, which reminded me of the beauty of intentional community but also the difficulty that comes with it. I also got to spend some more restful time with God.
The restfulness ended as soon as I got to camp. The past ten weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. It was a completely different experience than the last time I was there. A largely new staff, for one. I wasn't in a relationship, for two. And I wasn't a counselor this time around -- I was an programmatic assistant in The Highlands -- a wilderness outpost section of camp that is remote and sometimes forgotten about. Instead of interacting with a large rotation of staff, my main relationship was the girl I was assisting all summer and the new rotation of campers each week. I taught kids how to cook, did dishes, pushed schedules, taught a poop load of random things -- like how to tie knots, shoot archery, make stoves out of cans, take a dump in the woods, take military showers, etc -- slept under the stars, fixed bedwetting situations, provided first-aid, and a squillion other things. All that to say it was a completely new experience. Overall, I'm glad for it. But I didn't have much in the way of space or time to think, process, pray, or even sleep. Now it's over and I've said goodbye to a bunch of people that I may or may not ever see again. I'm not sure if I'm getting tired of all these new communities or if I was just too tired to care as much, but honestly, I wasn't as sad as I usually was. Transitioning is just what has to happen now.
Community from home, online community, camp community, Mission Year community, college community. They've all been the biggest part of my life at one point or another and a few from each place stick around and stay in contact, leaving me with friends all over the country and all over the world. I'm quickly heading to school to reunite with a past community for a week before heading to Oregon to add a new one to my list. And who knows what will happen after that.
Being home for the past ten hours has reminded me that my family is another one of those communities that I'm in and out of touch with. I sometimes feel like they get stuck with me when I'm in transition mode and I'm not focused on them, but on the things I need to prepare or the rest that I need or the connections I need to make happen. This leaves me feeling like they're being gypped of the love and energy they deserve from me. I am working on this.
In the midst of all the craziness though, I have to look back and realize that it's been a little over 2 years that all of this has taken place in and realize how incredible that is. I have changed and grown so much. I've morphed into a completely different person than I was and I know that a couple years from now I will have changed again. It's beautiful and good and ridiculous. It's life.
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