And the reason that you had to Care

Once again, Bono's got it just right:

The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town

You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere

You thought you'd found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace
...

This incredible loneliness just hit me as I was driving back from helping out at The Week.  In my little car, driving through the mountins, listening to "Bittersweet Symphony", I realized all I was leaving behind.  Though imperfect, there was such a strong community there, one that realized there is a life for us above money and stuff and education.  There was such a strong faith in God, such a drive to live fully, that was embodied in jumping off cliffs and running around in the dark and worshipping with abandon.  One moment I want to remember is when I was looking for something to do, and asked Chris, and he just looked up at me with his burning blue eyes and said simply: "Hang out.  Worship."  There was something happening in the calmness, in the space between all the work and driving.  This cliff jumping, this community, is what life is about, and I wasn't there.  Not quite.  It's just not really me.  But still, I had a place.

But in the traffic, in the struggling up hills alone with my old stick shift car at 45 mph, I felt alone.  And I had finally begun to care.  I finally got it.  I didn't want to go back to the smallness of where I lived, where I worked to earn money for clothes and home decorations and waited for the summer to be over.  The world was so much bigger than that.  I needed to move.. but with people, not by my self, and that time of traveling with others is over.  I will no longer be surrounded by these people.  I will find new community, community centered around God even, but it will not be the same.  And ultimately, from this point on, I will be traveling alone.

Memorable Moment #2

The last day of Kids Hope was hard.  Karina was mad and left without saying goodbye.. I actually cried the whole way home.  I felt no closure at all and although I care a lot about her, I felt like she couldn't care less about me, that the hour a week I spend with her for two years made zero impact on her life.  I accepted that this was just something I had to let go of and leave up to God.  And man, did he listen. 

Today I was at the Buchman's house doing work and there was a woman cleaning the house at the same time.  When she walked down the stairs and saw me, instant recognition crossed her face.  She knew exactly who I was even though I've seen her maybe twice, and she explained in fractured English that she was Karina's mom.  I don't think its a coincidence that she happened to be the housekeeper of the woman I work for.  That in itself was a sign to me that God does listen, and that he works in unexpected ways.  But she seemed thrilled to see me, and told Mrs. Buchman that Karina loves me.  I never would have heard that from Karina herself, and had stopped hoping for that kind of validation about all the time I spent with her.  She just didn't express herself that way to me.  It gave me both closure and confidence, and inspired me to continue trying to be a part of her life. 

Memorable Moment #1

Mowing my grandparents' lawn today, I had trouble with the mower twice: a pretty average amount for me.  The first was after breaking a sprinkler (oops) and my Nana quickly got it working again.  The second time my Opa came out after many tries of my own (it's a little embarrassing needing so much help from grandparents) and easily got it going.  I asked, "So do you and Nana just have the magic touch?" "Nope." he answed, pulling back his t-shirt sleeve and flexing. "Muscle."

Ralph Waldo Emerson said in his essay Self-Reliance: "In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts ... to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another." And even that is written by some one else.  It's starting to seem more and more that whenever I want to communicate an idea, it is better put by someone else.  Often when I read, I find things that I have thought more abstractly myself, and just didn't know how to articulate.  If I have a presentation to give about something I care about, the parts that I feel communicate best what I want to say are in someone else's words.  When I find some well communicated truth, it's wonderful and frustrating at the same time because though it conveys my thoughts, it's not my own.  All I really want out of this blog is to have thoughts of my own.

Sometimes I wonder what the next crazy invention that will change the world is going to be.  I can't imagine a better, slicker, computer, or a smaller iPod that would hold even more, or higher skyscrapers.  Maybe in 20 years I'll look back and wonder how I got by with what I have, just like it's weird to imagine my mom using a typewriter.  But I also think there's an increasing group of people that's disillusioned by our culture's obsession with stuff and technology.  I think we're forgetting how crazy life is because we're so consumed by this stuff that we don't pause and think about it.  I know that I, just as much as anyone else, have this problem.  Sure, whenever I go on a hike or a mission trip or get outside of my bubble I appreciate it, but sometimes I'm still trapped in it, I prefer it to going without. 

I've begun to realize that I am the type of person who loves beautiful things.  Often a love for shopping is equated with an obsession with surface, material things, but I don't think that's it at all.  There is something about the universe and the life that we live that cannot be put into words, that can only be glimpsed, and different people see and convey unique parts of it.  It's beautiful, certainly, but not simple: it's a beauty that's incomprehensible and bittersweet.

I've also noticed that a lot of what I'm drawn to (clothes, music, colors) matches up with this indescribable thing.  It's not just that I have a certain style or music taste.  What I like goes beyond just liking it... it represents something to me that cannot be portrayed in words.  And I think everyone has this to an extent, that maybe subconsciously, their clothes and rooms and favorite colors match up with something that they are striving towards.  Or maybe I'm just crazy.

The truth of it is... I like things.  But I like them because they somehow help me to define myself, and in defining myself, maybe associating myself with something greater, maybe even with God- who also loves color and beautiful things.

A Few Of My Favorite Things

I've been getting really negative lately.  Especially now that it's the second semester of senior year and I'm really able to picture myself in college, I'm getting annoyed and frustrated very easily.  High schoolers can be so immature and obnoxious, and it gets tiring living with my family.  But I think I'm going to take inspiration from the Sound of Music and instead of getting depressed (which is easy to do, especially if you're reading "Waiting for Godot" in LA class) I'm going to try to think more about the things that make me happy.

#1) Being called Em.  I don't know why I like it so much, but whenever I'm called that (by Troy especially) or even read it in a text, it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.

#2) Knitting.  Especially at this point in my life, it's so nice to have something completely relaxing and stress-relieving to do.  The problem is that it gets addicting and I end up knitting instead of doing work, which leads to more stress, which leads to more knitting.  It's a vicious cycle.

#3) Warm drinks.  Coffee especially, of course, but tea and chai are pretty good too.  My nana calls our generation's love for always carrying a drink around an oral fixation, or pacifier equivalent, which is probably true.  But still, something about having a thermos or Starbucks cup or mug with me is just really nice. 

#4) Being asked for advice.  It makes me feel important and validated.

#5) U2 and Bono... there is something so comforting about being obsessed with a band.  No matter what, listening to U2 is like listening to a familiar voice.  They have so many songs and so much variety that I can't get bored, and I learn new things from the lyrics all the time.

... to be continued.