Her Backyard

In her backyard, there is a flowering cacti, a green dinosaur, and fish in the trees.

"You have a beautiful garden." I tell her, because it is, but not in the common sense of the word.  Yes, there are lush bushes and beautiful flowers and dainty paths twisting in circles, but it is not carefully manicured or organized, as a garden of mine would be.  The plants and colors are not organized in any clear way, and there seems to be no limit to the whimsical items scattered throughout the landscape.  The fence is lined with a wide variety of unique artwork, in the center of the garden is a lime green wood skeleton of a dinosaur, and there are fish hanging from the trees.

Glass to wicker, blue to white, there are fish of every different size, material, and color hung randomly on the branches.  Wiley, the autistic boy I am babysitting, swings one back and forth.  The average elderly woman would tell him to be careful, not to break it.  This one couldn't care less.  She is teaching Felix, Wiley's younger brother, to command her enormous dog.  Concerned about the dog's size in comparison to the boy, I also order him to sit.  "No, let him do it.  He needs to learn." she tells me.

The only reason we were there in the first place was because she came over, ringing the doorbell while I was unsuccessfully trying to get Wiley to practice piano before leaving for a birthday party.  Felix and I opened the door for her and her large tawny brown dog, and she gestured to two birds' nests sitting on top of the milk box.  The boys' mother had wondered where they came from before she left in the morning: she asked me, but I would not have brought two birds' nests over just for the fun of it.  I probably would not have even noticed them.

"I found these in my backyard." she said, describing what the birds had made them from.  "And Wiley, you haven't seen the flower on the cactus yet, have you?"

So skeptically I walked with the boys over to the neighbors house, hoping that a bit of fresh air might make Wiley more likely to do his piano practice.  I did not expect the peculiarly stunning scene that I found.  We were brought over to see the flower, a gigantic fuzzy purple flower growing from the cactus.  "No one has seen anything like it before." she tells us.  "Have you googled it?" I ask her, and she gives me a funny look, saying, "Well I guess you could do that, couldn't you?"

The garden and everything in it is whimsical, exciting, but above all, fun.  I tell her so, and she says, as if it's the most obvious truth, "Life is fun."  Suddenly, I stop stressing about Wiley doing his piano practice, or the three of us getting back to their house in time.  If I was old and had a garden, maybe, just maybe, I think there could be fish on the trees.

           

Random Reflections

It's amazing how slowly time passes when riding a bike.

The Latin verb "spiro" means to breathe.  Maybe being inSPIRed is just as central to life as breathing, or in fact breathes soemthing new into life.

Why is it that the more I have to do, the harder it is to do it?

In society, everyone values someone who's sarcastic and always has something funny or witty to say, and if you're not naturally funny, you're thought to have little personality.

C.S. Lewis once said, "Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours."

Not a Stranger

I wouldn't say I'm idealistic.  I wouldn't even call myself an optimist.  However, I have always been secure in my conviction that life has meaning and coherency.  While there are aspects of existence that humans can never expect to understand, there is so much beauty in the world that I find it impossible to believe it came about by chance.  For this reason, when I read Albert Camus' decidedly nihilistic The Stranger the second semester of my junior year, I was disturbed and unsettled:  the novel essentially culminates in the protagonist's realization that life is meaningless. About to be executed, he thinks: "As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.  Finding it so much like myself -- so like a brother, really -- I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again" (122-123).  

The protagonist Meursault's contentment in the supposed purposelessness of the universe contrasted sharply with everything I'd been taught or believed.  How could anyone be happy in the absence of hope and meaning?  In my opinion, one cannot just give up faith and live a live centered around the idea that the world is indifferent.  Without hope or meaning, life would mean nothing, and who would want to live that kind of life?  A life without seeing the value in the small things; beauty and nature,  love and friendship, success and failure, excitement and tranquility, patterns, colors, joy, and disappointment; would be worthless.

This book of faithlessness did not weaken my faith.  Although I can't say Camus was wrong, that his exploration of the unanswerable question "Does life have meaning?" was entirely invalid, I make the deliberate choice to believe.  Where before I had simply assumed that I was alive for a reason, that I was destined for more than an empty life made meaningless by death, I began to look at my existence in a different light.  Yes, it's impossible to know beyond doubt that there is a God who cares, a higher power who crafted the universe and still knows my name, but if I have to make the choice between a faith I can't be sure of or a life without faith, I choose faith.

"No Restrictions"

Why is it that our society is so obsessed with independence?  Kids my age- who are making decisions about college- are encouraged to follow their hearts, do what's best for only theirselves, and not let any other factors get in the way. 

Is this representative of real life?  Does it make sense to be encouraged to not let anything restrict you, with a result of being in limbo after college because you don't have anything to tie you down?  Isn't the whole point of education and college to prepare you for life, not for some dream world where the best thing to do is always whatever suits you best?

When I tell anyone, even my parents, that I want to go to college near my boyfriend, I'm reprimanded.  I shouldn't let any other factors get in the way of my decision.  From society's point of view, it's almost unacceptable to be in a commited relationship at the age of 17.  Early adulthood is about "finding" yourself, which you can't do if you're tied down.

David Brooks, a New York Times journalist, said that "life isn't about finding yourself, it's about losing yourself."  This statement, which is so controversial to popular belief, really rings true for me.  If you focus only on yourself, cutting off all "restrictions", you don't really get anywhere.  However, if you let go of this self-centeredness and put yourself into caring for others, you might just (as C.S. Lewis might say) get "finding" yourself thrown in.

A Life of Love

It's amazing the way God puts people into your life for a reason.

At the beginning of this school year (after reading the book 'Do Hard Things') I decided to sign up for multiple volunteer activities, both involving working individually with children.  The first, primarily made up of volunteers old enough to have grandkids, paired me up with a 2nd grade Hispanic girl who at first seemed shy and sweet but has frustrated me a huge amount.  Right now, I'm having trouble thinking about her without crying.  It's funny how people begin volunteering for these things, I myself don't even know why- maybe to feel like you're making a difference? when what really happens is that you're impacted even more than they are. There was a point when I considered not continuing the program next year because I felt like I wasn't making a difference, that Karina (the girl I work with) couldn't care less about me, that I had no idea what to do (completely true). 

But what happens is that once you give up, once you're sure you can't do it on your own, God comes in and does more incredible things than you could ever imagine.  Giving up is a hard thing to do.  It involves laying down your pride and admitting to yourself, which is maybe the hardest part, that you're not meant to do things on your own.  The amazing thing is that God knows Karina so intimately, that he created her stubborn, defiant, secretly goofy personality and her hair that she dyed partially purple and her love for pink.  And he knows me just as intimately, and decided, "Hey, what would happen if I put Emily and Karina into each others lives?" and has something great planned for both of us that I still have no clue about.

And then there's Wiley.  My friend paired me with him for the Reading Pals program at the library, saying that he was sweet, mildly autistic, and in 3rd grade- older than most children in the program.  In fact, while other teenagers sat with their adorable little buddies who sat quietly and read along with them, I'm in the other room with Wiley leaning up against me, reading quickly and making it hard for me to understand what he's saying, let alone try to help him read.  But then when his mom asked me to babysit, saying that he had become endeared to me, I was honored, and one day when he wanted to leave early because he was frustrated with reading and with me, I felt miserable.  It's funny how you don't realize how much you care about people until they leave. 

As a result of these experiences, I'm considering being a speech therapist for children in elementary schools after college- because once I gave up my need for security and control and let God take over, I learned a lot about myself and the roles that he has for me.  Isn't it amazing to think how through each person in your life, even if they annoy you or stress you out to the point of giving up, God has great things in store?  Because every person, including the homeless man you see on the street or the old overweight woman or the twelve year old girl in the miniskirt, God knows equally and intimately- he knows every thought in their mind; their favorite color, their future college major, their greatest fear.  So our job is to "be imitators of God" and "live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us." (Ephesians 5:2)

Thought of the Day

Sometimes life is so beautiful you just need to share it with someone else.  If there is someone who comes to mind in every moment of beauty, THAT is love.

The Best Movie Ever Made