"I know, I know, the sky is what makes the oceans blue..." (Ben Lee - Love me like the world is ending)
Most of the time, I try to find a reason for everything that happens, for good and bad things but mostly for the bad things that happen in life. It's like finding a reason for something helps comfort me, and make me feel better knowing that my suffering has some tall end. I feel like I am in one of those predicaments now, knowing in my mind that my present predicaments have meaning, namely to develop/refine my character, but it still sucks.
I am really glad my bro landed his first job, tho it's not the most ideal job for him, in my opinion. It's his first job though nonetheless and I want to pull my share of the weight and help out at home too, in order to support him. So when my dad asked me tonight if I could work for a few hours Tuesdays afternoons-evening after I finish work (since he can't work at the shop anymore obviously and my parents are teaching chinese school at the time), as my contribution to the family, I felt really selfish for NOT wanting to. But I really don't want to add a "few more hours" onto my 10 hour days, and be bored, bored, bored for a few more hours (there is only so much you can do when there is nothing to do...).
So I've been flipping through the little book of James and it is darn hard stuff. It talks a lot about developing patience and perseverence, about going through suffering and trials. About considering it joy. It's this whole deal about living well, living wisely, doing/being what you should be doing/being. It's a whole new response to living a life of love...and my response? Umm...sounds good guys, but I'm not there yet.
It's like there's this one prompt inside me that urges me to move out (go to grad school awayyyy in Toronto) and make a life for myself, sans the chains of 'the family'. And then there's the other part of my heart that tugs upon hearing that, and cries out, "Anna are you heartless?" Little birdie's gotta fly, indeed I think she left the nest a long time ago, but the nest is still the nest, sticky branches made with spit and all. The nest was never in many ways, in my eyes, sufficient, that is, it didn't measure up to the standards I imposed on itself - wasn't comfy enough, tall enough, and had enough time for me. But still, it's the one that shaped me, shapes me.
Life's been pretty difficult and I've been doing my fair share of asking the "whys" and mourning over "what wasn't" and "what was", and what wasn't "fair" and how it "could of been". I cry. And cry. And cry. Relationships with friends have changed, and some have outright died. A flower is beautiful, but flowers die after their season, some come back, but some don't. All we can do is appreciate the beauty now, for we don't know what will happen in the future. Concern and worries over my family continue, my aging parents, my siblings' financial securities, even though I am limited in what I can do. I guess the most is to make sure that my relationships with them are right. Try not to feel burdened and sacked. Suck it up sometimes ("be a woman " LOL no one says that). And of course, cry when necessary.
At the same time, the life juggle continues, I still have a full-time job and school. I have rolled out enough applications for a lifetime, thank you very much. Enough anxiety trying to figure out how I will pay off my student loans, finance my graduate education, do what I love...and fit in things to keep my sanity (exercise, nothingness, TRAVEL, meaningful relationships...but not necessarily in that order).
It's a tough job for a 22-year old. And yes, yes, yes, the amazing stories I have heard of people who have gone through sooooo much more than I ever will inspires me and puts life for me into perspective- through being a child soldier, a girl prostitute, you name it. But it's still hard.
Most importantly, then there's the heart, and the person you love. And maybe you have to let that go for now too, and ungrasp it from your hand because you know it's not yours when you have to grasp onto it like that. And it's like, damn. It's like everything seems to ALMOST fit together so perfectly...and also, so not at the same time. All you can do is do your stuff, and have faith that what is destined to happen, will. Most of the time, I think doing the right thing means doing the hard thing, which sucks. Yep, that's right, it sucks.
So...it's 9:48PM and I have to go sleep so I can wake up at 5:30AM for work tomorrow. I pray that God will give me the strength to wake up for the day (cuz sometimes you just don't want to), the patience to live through the day (ppl annoy you), and the wisdom to live through the day (live, live, live, not just survive).
"I know, I know the sky is what makes the oceans blue..."
___________
To read a pretty cool article, click here.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
But I am not there yet
The lighted orb slowly makes it ascent
As the crisp cool air steals away my breath
Click, clack, click! – hurried footsteps to the ground
Almost – but I am not there yet
Sweet melodies play in my ear, breaking silence
As I swim between consciousness and sleep
Da da, da da – heavy palpitations to the beat
On my way – but I am not there yet
Fluorescent ions light up the city skyline
As my hands and feet set into perfect motion
Tap tap, tap tap – nimble fingers to madness
I am here – but I am not there yet
Shadows drift in ad out of spaces all day
As my spirit inside yearns to embrace another
Moaning, groaning – empty hearts born to burst
Do you hear? But I am not there yet
Sometimes divine visions overwhelm my senses
As my eyes open to see the realm of dreams
Reaching, reaching – only courage wills to action
Fathomable – but I am still not there yet…
And as I leave and write the end of another day
What will the world I leave behind me say?
That I played it safe? Or did I live out faith?
I am not there yet, but I am here –
Today.
|Lake Louise, Alberta|plate of strawberries|Times Square, NYC|my window|War Museum, Ottawa|me, Vancouver
The lighted orb slowly makes it ascent
As the crisp cool air steals away my breath
Click, clack, click! – hurried footsteps to the ground
Almost – but I am not there yet
Sweet melodies play in my ear, breaking silence
As I swim between consciousness and sleep
Da da, da da – heavy palpitations to the beat
On my way – but I am not there yet
Fluorescent ions light up the city skyline
As my hands and feet set into perfect motion
Tap tap, tap tap – nimble fingers to madness
I am here – but I am not there yet
Shadows drift in ad out of spaces all day
As my spirit inside yearns to embrace another
Moaning, groaning – empty hearts born to burst
Do you hear? But I am not there yet
Sometimes divine visions overwhelm my senses
As my eyes open to see the realm of dreams
Reaching, reaching – only courage wills to action
Fathomable – but I am still not there yet…
And as I leave and write the end of another day
What will the world I leave behind me say?
That I played it safe? Or did I live out faith?
I am not there yet, but I am here –
Today.
|Lake Louise, Alberta|plate of strawberries|Times Square, NYC|my window|War Museum, Ottawa|me, Vancouver
Monday, January 7, 2008
Inspirations from a nun from Calcutta...
Excerpts from The Private Writings of the ‘Saint of Calcutta
Bringing it back to home, I have lately been thinking about my sister. I think of my sister and the influence she is having on the teenagers that she is counseling at church. There is a boy who is blind because of a degenerative disease of the brain in her group. He always comes to the events even if he can’t really do them. Every time I hear about him, my heart breaks and I think how great the work that my sister is a part of, is. Sometimes I feel ashamed. How many lives am I changing? Sometimes I feel like I am not even changing my own.
I work downtown
"Do we know who our poor are? Do we know our neighbour, the poor of our own area? It is so easy for us to talk and talk about the poor of other places. Very often we have the suffering, we have the lonely, we have the people – old, unwanted, feeling miserable – and they are near us and we don’t even know them. We have no time to even smile at them."
Tuberculosis and cancer are not the great diseases. I think a much greater disease is to be unwanted, unloved. The pain that these people suffer is very difficult to understand, to penetrate. I think this is what our people all over the world are going through, in every family, in every home.” (206)
I hope by recognizing the poverty in me, I will spur both my mind and heart into action and live a life in response to the poverty around me. That’s what I want. I pray that I can develop that kind of faith to believe when it is dark, that kind of resiliency to keep walking when the road gets tough, and that kind of courage to live out my convictions.
Molly's Christmas scarf | Christmas tree at the National Art Gallery, Ottawa
All covered up at snowy Mount Tremblant | Me
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
To be a "little Christ"
[my photo shoot yesterday at work]
I always thought I was a morning person, but waking up at 5:30am on dreary black November days have taken its toil on me. I try to fit in at least a few minutes of bible reading and prayer before going to work, and today I came across this article among my other perusing.
Lately, I haven't been or felt very loving at all. It seems like I am constantly angry, and find fault with everything and everyone in my life - from my family who doesn't seem to get why it is so important to recycle and eat more vegatables (you don't know what it's like to read depressing health studies everyday at work at differnet and news ways human beings have invented to die), to the man coughing in front of me on the germ-filled, air tight skytrain (all I think of during the 1 hour commute is that I can't wait to go and wash my hands), to myself, which is even a more depressing picture - because for every finger I point at someone else, I have three pointing right back at me. The root of it all is that I am not content, because my future dominates my thinking: where will I live? what will I do? who will I marry? And despite my constant attempts to live today and enjoy the present (that's why it's called the present =D), I fail often. I keep wandering back to these thoughts like a loyal dog, whose owner just died but refuse to leave the home, and wastes away. These article is encouraging and challenging to me, I know it's a bit long but if you take the time, I think you will find it worth it. Take a look especially the parts in bold.
Statement: Rethinking Love
Jim Palmer
The email arrived early one morning from my neighbor friend Judie. Part of getting to know Judie involved sharing our respective spiritual journeys. I shared how discovering God's unconditional love and acceptance in Christ was changing me. We both experienced Jesus as love and peace, and we were encouraged by Jesus identifying these as distinguishing characteristics of His disciples. Judie is someone who holds the highest regard for Jesus Christ and considers Him her role model, yet she never dug into the world of religion, or its accompanying teachings and specifics about the life of Christ. Let's just say her interactions with Christians didn't spark a motivation to engage whatever it was they were focusing on. In one conversation, I mentioned that Jesus' first followers lived out His example and teachings with such devotion they became known as "little Christs."
Judie had been mulling over my "little Christs" comment and came to a disturbing conclusion, which she expressed in her email. Jesus' message, displayed in His life, was love and peace. His first followers accepted that reality and lived it. But pondering the present world and her own life experiences, she was left to wonder, "I kept hearing the song 'Where have all the flowers gone?' in my head, except I was hearing it with the words 'little Christs' … 'Where have all the little Christs gone?'" It was more than a clever rhetorical question. Even though her personal goal in life is being the same love Jesus is, Judie didn't seem to cross paths with many choosing to live this way, though many people call themselves Christians.
She has a point. Many people choose to fill their world with hate, hurt, division, fear and despair even though we are all desperate for love and peace. Statistically, the world is chock full of "Christians"—intelligent Christians, artistic Christians, successful Christians, churchgoing Christians, politically active Christians—but what about "little Christ" Christians? Christians who risk everything for love? What about Christians who love indiscriminately, unconditionally and sacrificially? Apparently, these kinds of Christ followers are MIA. Every now and then, one like Mother Teresa pops up and we practically create a cult around them because they live an existence so decisively beyond our normal way of living.
I worried a bit that perhaps I talked too much about love. What I'm finding myself is that virtually every aspect of knowing God is related to love. Here are several examples of how love altered my understanding of God and my relationship with Him and others.
Before: Christianity is a belief system.Now: Christianity is a school of love carried out in apprenticeship to Christ.
Before: I am created in God's image, which means I have the capacity to make rational choices and exercise my free will. Now: I am created in the image of perfect love, which means love is the core of my identity and I can choose love.
Being love comes with its own supply of courage and conviction, but people concerned about their reputation need not apply. Love often requires relationships with others, and those "others" might not meet the societal standards of normalcy, which can stir up controversy. During my religion days, I essentially classified people into three groups. "Believers" were the in-group of people on the same page with our main beliefs and practices. "Unbelievers" were those we associated with in some way, hoping to convert them. Normally unbelievers were very similar to me in terms of race, culture and lifestyle. The third group, "really bad people," is actually a subset of "unbelievers," but we pretended they were in a different group altogether. These people's beliefs or behaviors seemed to epitomize everything we were against or didn't believe in. The group was mostly comprised of people with erroneous theology and/or politics, or grossly immoral behavior. It was not appropriate for believers to hang out with "really bad people." This is where the religious version of "tough love" kicked in—withholding love altogether.
Now I see these limitations I placed on love had no basis in the life or teachings of Jesus. Jesus pretty much undid my comfortable theory of love when He said, "love your enemies." This is a reminder that love is the foundation and, as such, a prerequisite for peace. The religious establishment condemned Jesus for hanging out with "sinners." They had limits on their love; Jesus didn't.
For many years, following Jesus' example of love was implausible because my religious logic pitted my belief in God's "holiness" in conflict with God's "love." At times it made God seem schizophrenic. One minute God was too holy to look upon sinners; the next minute He was hobnobbing with the worst of them. The Christian belief system I constructed rested on the notion that God rejects sinners. Yet Jesus offered unconditional love and acceptance to them (us). Religion often implies one must "clean up your act" before receiving anything from God. Jesus, however, had no qualms about leaving open forever the floodgates of God's favor for people regardless of what condition they were in. Once, when questioned about it, Jesus responded, "It's not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." In fact, I think Jesus never had floodgates to begin with. In Him, love flowed continuously and without even a means of restraint.
There was a time when I considered Jesus' emphasis on things like love and peace as a nice but unrealistic ideal. My religious sensibilities told me to grow up and let go of those silly, childlike notions. Instead, I acquired a militant view of life. I was a Luke Skywalker-type Christian soldier in a war, striving to defeat Darth Vader and the evil empire. You were either with us or against us. One way or another, it was all headed toward Armageddon.
I began to change the day I became conscious of and allowed myself to receive and depend on the love and peace of God within me. At the center of my being, I experienced the fulfillment of Jesus' words, "All things are possible with God." Having grown up in a love-starved home, I set out into adulthood striving and groping for love any way I could get it. I turned to Christianity in hopes of fulfilling my need in God. Instead, I began chasing the proverbial oh-so-close-but-just-beyond-my-grasp greased pig of works-based love and acceptance. After reaching top status in the world of Christendom, I felt more empty and weary inside than when I began.
The magnitude of my ceasing to strive, and instead learning to rest in God's love and peace, is sort of like the Cubs winning the World Series back to back and science figuring out how to produce a fat-free Krispy Kreme donut. There may be no greater miracle than a contented Jim Palmer!
As miracles began happening in my life, I started believing in them. Things I once considered impossible now seemed possible with God. A new kind of logic began forming within me, and I began wondering. If I can experience peace and love, why can't everyone else? If love and peace are true of my inner world, why can't they exist in my outer world? If I'm not conflicted within myself, why must there be conflict in my relationships with others? Anything is possible.
Excerpted from Wide Open Spaces: Beyond Paint-by-Number Christianity (Thomas Nelson) by Jim Palmer. (Used with permission). You can see his upcoming book tour dates at his blog http://www.divinenobodies.com/blog/.
I always thought I was a morning person, but waking up at 5:30am on dreary black November days have taken its toil on me. I try to fit in at least a few minutes of bible reading and prayer before going to work, and today I came across this article among my other perusing.
Lately, I haven't been or felt very loving at all. It seems like I am constantly angry, and find fault with everything and everyone in my life - from my family who doesn't seem to get why it is so important to recycle and eat more vegatables (you don't know what it's like to read depressing health studies everyday at work at differnet and news ways human beings have invented to die), to the man coughing in front of me on the germ-filled, air tight skytrain (all I think of during the 1 hour commute is that I can't wait to go and wash my hands), to myself, which is even a more depressing picture - because for every finger I point at someone else, I have three pointing right back at me. The root of it all is that I am not content, because my future dominates my thinking: where will I live? what will I do? who will I marry? And despite my constant attempts to live today and enjoy the present (that's why it's called the present =D), I fail often. I keep wandering back to these thoughts like a loyal dog, whose owner just died but refuse to leave the home, and wastes away. These article is encouraging and challenging to me, I know it's a bit long but if you take the time, I think you will find it worth it. Take a look especially the parts in bold.
A "little Christ" wannabe (think Spice Girls), Anna
____________________
Statement: Rethinking Love
Jim Palmer
The email arrived early one morning from my neighbor friend Judie. Part of getting to know Judie involved sharing our respective spiritual journeys. I shared how discovering God's unconditional love and acceptance in Christ was changing me. We both experienced Jesus as love and peace, and we were encouraged by Jesus identifying these as distinguishing characteristics of His disciples. Judie is someone who holds the highest regard for Jesus Christ and considers Him her role model, yet she never dug into the world of religion, or its accompanying teachings and specifics about the life of Christ. Let's just say her interactions with Christians didn't spark a motivation to engage whatever it was they were focusing on. In one conversation, I mentioned that Jesus' first followers lived out His example and teachings with such devotion they became known as "little Christs."
Judie had been mulling over my "little Christs" comment and came to a disturbing conclusion, which she expressed in her email. Jesus' message, displayed in His life, was love and peace. His first followers accepted that reality and lived it. But pondering the present world and her own life experiences, she was left to wonder, "I kept hearing the song 'Where have all the flowers gone?' in my head, except I was hearing it with the words 'little Christs' … 'Where have all the little Christs gone?'" It was more than a clever rhetorical question. Even though her personal goal in life is being the same love Jesus is, Judie didn't seem to cross paths with many choosing to live this way, though many people call themselves Christians.
She has a point. Many people choose to fill their world with hate, hurt, division, fear and despair even though we are all desperate for love and peace. Statistically, the world is chock full of "Christians"—intelligent Christians, artistic Christians, successful Christians, churchgoing Christians, politically active Christians—but what about "little Christ" Christians? Christians who risk everything for love? What about Christians who love indiscriminately, unconditionally and sacrificially? Apparently, these kinds of Christ followers are MIA. Every now and then, one like Mother Teresa pops up and we practically create a cult around them because they live an existence so decisively beyond our normal way of living.
I worried a bit that perhaps I talked too much about love. What I'm finding myself is that virtually every aspect of knowing God is related to love. Here are several examples of how love altered my understanding of God and my relationship with Him and others.
Before: God is synonymous with religion.Now: God is synonymous with love.
Before: Christianity is a belief system.Now: Christianity is a school of love carried out in apprenticeship to Christ.
Before: God hates sin because it disgusts Him.Now: God's motive for hating sin is love. Sin causes hurt and suffering for me and others.
Before: I primarily experience God through religious rituals and acts of obedience. Now: When I am experiencing love, I am experiencing God.
Before: Christian living is trying harder to be more and do more.Now: Christian living is an overflow of God's love in me.
Before: My source of love is outside myself and I'm dependent on others to supply it. Now: My source of love is within me and while I enjoy the love of others, I'm not dependent on it and can freely love others without the expectation of receiving love in return.
Before: I am created in God's image, which means I have the capacity to make rational choices and exercise my free will. Now: I am created in the image of perfect love, which means love is the core of my identity and I can choose love.
Before: The main thing is getting people to adopt my beliefs about God.Now: Loving people creates desire within them to know God.
Before: Somewhere out there is God's purpose for my life and I must find it.Now: At every moment, God's purpose for me is to be love.
Before: Being "in love" is some temporary euphoric guy-meets-girl experience. Now: Being "in love" is walking in the conscious awareness of and dependence on God's love in me and as me.
Before: Tough love is withholding love from others as a means of disapproval or attempt to bring change. Now: Tough love is loving others without condition, regardless of the result.
Before: The most powerful force on earth is hate.Now: The most powerful force on earth is love.
Being love comes with its own supply of courage and conviction, but people concerned about their reputation need not apply. Love often requires relationships with others, and those "others" might not meet the societal standards of normalcy, which can stir up controversy. During my religion days, I essentially classified people into three groups. "Believers" were the in-group of people on the same page with our main beliefs and practices. "Unbelievers" were those we associated with in some way, hoping to convert them. Normally unbelievers were very similar to me in terms of race, culture and lifestyle. The third group, "really bad people," is actually a subset of "unbelievers," but we pretended they were in a different group altogether. These people's beliefs or behaviors seemed to epitomize everything we were against or didn't believe in. The group was mostly comprised of people with erroneous theology and/or politics, or grossly immoral behavior. It was not appropriate for believers to hang out with "really bad people." This is where the religious version of "tough love" kicked in—withholding love altogether.
Now I see these limitations I placed on love had no basis in the life or teachings of Jesus. Jesus pretty much undid my comfortable theory of love when He said, "love your enemies." This is a reminder that love is the foundation and, as such, a prerequisite for peace. The religious establishment condemned Jesus for hanging out with "sinners." They had limits on their love; Jesus didn't.
For many years, following Jesus' example of love was implausible because my religious logic pitted my belief in God's "holiness" in conflict with God's "love." At times it made God seem schizophrenic. One minute God was too holy to look upon sinners; the next minute He was hobnobbing with the worst of them. The Christian belief system I constructed rested on the notion that God rejects sinners. Yet Jesus offered unconditional love and acceptance to them (us). Religion often implies one must "clean up your act" before receiving anything from God. Jesus, however, had no qualms about leaving open forever the floodgates of God's favor for people regardless of what condition they were in. Once, when questioned about it, Jesus responded, "It's not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." In fact, I think Jesus never had floodgates to begin with. In Him, love flowed continuously and without even a means of restraint.
There was a time when I considered Jesus' emphasis on things like love and peace as a nice but unrealistic ideal. My religious sensibilities told me to grow up and let go of those silly, childlike notions. Instead, I acquired a militant view of life. I was a Luke Skywalker-type Christian soldier in a war, striving to defeat Darth Vader and the evil empire. You were either with us or against us. One way or another, it was all headed toward Armageddon.
I began to change the day I became conscious of and allowed myself to receive and depend on the love and peace of God within me. At the center of my being, I experienced the fulfillment of Jesus' words, "All things are possible with God." Having grown up in a love-starved home, I set out into adulthood striving and groping for love any way I could get it. I turned to Christianity in hopes of fulfilling my need in God. Instead, I began chasing the proverbial oh-so-close-but-just-beyond-my-grasp greased pig of works-based love and acceptance. After reaching top status in the world of Christendom, I felt more empty and weary inside than when I began.
The magnitude of my ceasing to strive, and instead learning to rest in God's love and peace, is sort of like the Cubs winning the World Series back to back and science figuring out how to produce a fat-free Krispy Kreme donut. There may be no greater miracle than a contented Jim Palmer!
As miracles began happening in my life, I started believing in them. Things I once considered impossible now seemed possible with God. A new kind of logic began forming within me, and I began wondering. If I can experience peace and love, why can't everyone else? If love and peace are true of my inner world, why can't they exist in my outer world? If I'm not conflicted within myself, why must there be conflict in my relationships with others? Anything is possible.
Excerpted from Wide Open Spaces: Beyond Paint-by-Number Christianity (Thomas Nelson) by Jim Palmer. (Used with permission). You can see his upcoming book tour dates at his blog http://www.divinenobodies.com/blog/.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Scrapbooks
Me and Molly | Molly after grooming at Petcetera
For no reason in particular, I ended up flipping through my scrapbooks from the last few years tonight in my room with Molly. I think I must be (or used to be) one of the ultimate pack rats ever – my friends who have ever helped me pack (and this happens every time of course) can attest to this - and that I own an awful lot of pink things. So naturally, my scrapbooks are also packed, busting with odds and ends like bus tickets, to gifts like cards, which are saved and masterfully crafted into some part of a page with some kind of caption or explanation (you really do forget names and things after a few years!).
As I was rereading, I was thinking that we pack too much into our days, and handle too much information – from RSS feeds to news wires to podcasts – which causes us to not spend enough time processing what all this information means to us. We don’t sort through what is important and what really isn’t. That’s why I scrapbook, to relive and set down those memories. I feel that every time I do take the time to reflect, and to look at some pictures, I am amazed and I think – wow, I said/thought/did/wrote that? Because I had forgotten, forgotten how that thing/person was important, why it/they were so important.
Ever so often, certain pages also make you cringe, and I think that’s the best test to me. It tells whether or not I have fully dealt with an issue. There’s been a couple of realities that I am struggling to face right now, and I hope I will one day be able to look/read the entry in my scrapbook without cringing. Do you think it is normal to doubt, to ask all of those what if/should have questions? Because those are the questions that I ask myself, and that is what makes me cringe, the fear that I have made the wrong decision, and the fear that I will make a wrong one for tomorrow.
A person can’t really live in fear of regretting the past or in fear of the future now can they? Of course not, and this is the internal struggle I battle with these days. I guess I feel like I’m a bit stuck, and still thinking, thinking – while at the same time trying to be proactive and taking small steps and fight being apathetic and giving up. And there are bursts of passion and energy, but also followed by bounds of exhaustion and the want of doing nothing more than hiding and curling up in my bed with a book and my cat.
Perfect fall picture of Como Lake
But God is funny, and he makes the sun shine down on you on days you didn’t think its rays would ever make it through the cloudy skies (especially in
Monday, October 15, 2007
Youthful Hubris
(somewhere off the highway in Saskatchewan)
There’s a funny part in Velvet Elvis where Rob Bell recounts the story of his encounter with his false, super self. A moment of ultimate decision when he decides to shot his “super pastor”, and to stop living like the perfect person everyone else sees, but he knows, isn’t him. Don’t we often stereotype people in this way in our daily lives, and even uplift these “superhumans” as role models, and ideals to be sought after?
(view of Vancouver harbour, steps from my building | my building, check out the Canadian flag)
There’s a funny part in Velvet Elvis where Rob Bell recounts the story of his encounter with his false, super self. A moment of ultimate decision when he decides to shot his “super pastor”, and to stop living like the perfect person everyone else sees, but he knows, isn’t him. Don’t we often stereotype people in this way in our daily lives, and even uplift these “superhumans” as role models, and ideals to be sought after?I think I’ve killed my superself, but I am still trying to figure out and get used to living life as me – anna – and not as anna the super student, super friend, super volunteer, or super whatever. A preoccupation of mine in the last six months has been on finding out my ‘calling’ in life, my raison d’etre, my specific mission (or at least during this time) to live out this life of love, and what makes me cry is not knowing at all – what that is. To super anna, that doesn’t make sense, because I did all the right things: study hard, gain work experience, participate in the community, and even moving across the country when necessary. It disappoints myself when I can’t fully celebrate with others as I see them live out their passions, get engaged to the one they love, and just live life as it should be lived – fully. Indeed it is the ultimate example of youthful hubris when we demand and we feel as if we ought to know, as if the main character in the story of the world is us, when we are only, not even a week turned, twenty-two.
(4 nuggets for $1 CDN baby in Seattle)
I was having this conversation on Saturday with my friend Monica, and we were discussing this symptom of Generation Y to desire holistic development, where passion goes hand in hand with purpose and action, and reflection (at least for Arts grads) reigns deep into our consciousness. In Western Political thought, Augustine was the first theorist to bring in the introspective, inner consciousness, and it wasn’t until the 18th and 19th centuries where characters in romans began to gain complex inner selves. It kills me sometimes. And sometimes I wonder if life was simpler in the time of the nobility, where honour and shame were the virtue and vices, and people were judged by their actions and not thoughts.
It reminds me of a conversation I had with my friend Matt this past summer in
These days come, and today is one of them. And I continue to feel as if the world spins madly on, as I am standing in the middle of a busy, crowded street in
(random chess pieces on board the deck on the Golden Princess...like life?)
For the first time, in a long time, I have stopped trying to try new things just for the sake of it, busting my butt to get ahead and noticed, and defining my worth by my success. It’s my hubris and ignorance to ever believe that achieving something – a degree, a boyfriend, an award - would bring me peace and contentment. Like I wrote before, nobody plans to win the Nobel Peace Prize, rather people live their lives and do their thing, and sometimes, rare as it is, they get recognized for it in a big way. And maybe this is my time to just live my life, recognizing that it is okay to do nothing sometimes - it is not laziness or a lack of drive but wisdom, that it is okay to be sad and to cry - it is not a sign of weakness but strength, and that it is okay to not know – for maybe, it is only when we admit our limits that they can be expanded and grow.
Breathe. Exhale. I think I need a good kick in the pants and wake up, read some good books, talk to people with ideas, and stop working for the government after these seven more months. Or, as one of my email buddies said to me (who I should really email and haven’t for a while)..remember to “haul ass, and milk every moment for every last drop of value. PEACE.”
(view of Vancouver harbour, steps from my building | my building, check out the Canadian flag)
Friday, August 3, 2007
The Meaning of Life
(rocks at the bottom of Hog Back's falls| bike path along Gatineau River)
The first time I seriously came across this old age question “what is the meaning of life” in my conscious memory is in grade 11 at youth parliament in Victoria. As usual during Question Period, the opposition tried to stump the premier and his cabinet by asking all sorts of obscure questions, both in seriousness and in good humour (it was youth parliament after all). Amidst the good fun, low and behold, this question came up. I remember the premier at the time, who also happened to be the older brother of an elementary school friend of mine, paused and then confidently answered, “as my grade four teacher says, the meaning of life is to give life meaning.” It was brilliant answer in my sixteen year old eyes.
Five years later, with a political science degree and government experience under my belt, the question remains and the journeys in between the time have led me to different answers and to meet people with different answers. Despite the differences, a similar theme emerges always – the desire to have meaning and to have fulfillment in our relationships, in our vocation and in our simple everyday living.
Lately, in my own inner struggles with my own vocation, I have been reading the book of Exodus in the Bible. The miraculous deliverance from Egypt, the Ten Commandments, the desert wanderings and the Promise Land, this book has it all! And it seems that the events in Exodus marked Israel as God’s chosen people, where covenants were made and where years hence, in times of praise and trouble the Jewish people would look back at these events and remember who they are, and why they are here in earth.
I don’t know about you but the Ten Commandments had always seemed to me to be like laws, like Hammurabi’s great code. I was thinking about it again and reading again and I realize it’s not quite like that – the way the commandments were written resembles how royal treaties were written at the time, and that makes sense with Israel being chosen by God as his holy nation. It’s not so much a “to not do” list as it is an understanding, and I think throughout the whole thing God is just saying, here guys, here’s a choice between blessings and curses. If you follow me, the One who brought you out of slavery in Egypt, if you really follow me, you’re set and you’ll be blessed. And if you don’t…well…And what was funny when I was reading again was how there is nothing about what we have “to do”, like there is nothing about vocation or things like that. Commandments like honour your parents or not committing murder are not specific things perse, but they are more like attitudes that shape your entire worldview, not specific things you don’t do (though I suppose it could be…LOL). And then I was thinking about the manner in which God gave the Ten Commandments to Moses, how God asked Moses to come up the mountain, up close and personal, and not only so, but asked the Israelites to come close to the mountain, though not touching it. It seems like God wanted his people close to him, as he laid out the foundations of this important treaty that would guide and mark them as his people. And then I noticed the people’s response, how when the Israelites saw the thunder and lightening and heard the trumpet, they got scared and stayed back physically from the mountain even though they were given in the invitation to be up close (20: 18-19). And I thought, maybe it is not just a physical distance but a spiritual one as well, how it is easier to think of a God who is a judge but harder to think of God as a friend, because being a friend entails much more and requires a intimate two way relationship.
Before my journeys in Exodus, I was reading Micah, a little book but with a great great verse that has spawned lately, a great movement (Micah Challenge). When it comes to meaning of life as a Christian and such, it says this “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). The last phrase particularly stood out to me and as I was thinking about that and thinking about the mountain in Exodus, maybe that really is it. A person’s meaning does not come from what s/he does or even who s/he is, but comes from her/his closeness with God. The other variables can easily change, and I still think how funny it is how the people I work at the office with all have at least a master’s degree and yet you would never ever know if you saw them on the street. A bummy looking on the bus can be a phD or homeless, the lines aren’t that black and white. But the closeness, now that is something else. This is a scary realization because it really throws into wack everything I had considered important in my life, typical of someone my age: a meaningful vocation, the special person. At the same time, it comes as a relief perhaps, realizing that my own attempts at finding and constructing meaning, is futile after all.
I received an unexpected strange email this week from UBC Financial Aid and Student Awards. It was an invitation to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship. UBC did a computer scan of all the 4th years who had an average above a certain mark, and when I checked at the student service centre, I realized that I had just reached the number by 0.1 percent. I laughed at that because it is so beyond me. It was even more funny because I was just thinking lately and talking to my coworkers about prestigious awards and such, and how I think people don’t try to win the Nobel Peace Prize. It just happens, like they just live their lives and just do their thing, and sometimes, though most often rarely, they get recognized for it, but they don’t try, they don’t set that as a goal in life. And in the midst of me lately trying to get a job in Vancouver, and preparing for grad school aps and funding...I think these things will just come you know, if it's meant to be. That's so damn hard to accept for a Type A personality.
Closeness to God. Or as my coworkers says, the spiritual connection, the beingness. Moses’ face radiated so much that he had to hid in order to protect the others. I want my life to radiate, I want to be so close that circumstances don’t matter and no person or no job will dictate my beingness and my self worth but the Creator life and all that is good and beautiful.
When we ask, “what is the meaning of life” I think we focus too much on ourselves and the me part. What is the meaning of my life when really, maybe life is not all about you. And so I think when we ask ourselves that question, I think we end up trying to do two things way too much – to prove ourselves and to find ourselves. I had three interviews in the three days this week and as I repeated again and again, trying to sell my qualifications with my transcript and my resume, I was so sick of trying to prove myself worthy, and to affirm myself of who I am. There's nothing wrong with wanting to go to a developing country, or the top school, those are just things and they are neutral. It's the why that matters. Like Snenfer said to me last night, more profoundly than he could have thought, it’s your closeness to God that matters Anna, nothing else.
(steamtrain | stone structure on Victoria Island | being in two places at once! the sign on Portage Bridge marking the border between Quebec and Ontario)
The first time I seriously came across this old age question “what is the meaning of life” in my conscious memory is in grade 11 at youth parliament in Victoria. As usual during Question Period, the opposition tried to stump the premier and his cabinet by asking all sorts of obscure questions, both in seriousness and in good humour (it was youth parliament after all). Amidst the good fun, low and behold, this question came up. I remember the premier at the time, who also happened to be the older brother of an elementary school friend of mine, paused and then confidently answered, “as my grade four teacher says, the meaning of life is to give life meaning.” It was brilliant answer in my sixteen year old eyes.Five years later, with a political science degree and government experience under my belt, the question remains and the journeys in between the time have led me to different answers and to meet people with different answers. Despite the differences, a similar theme emerges always – the desire to have meaning and to have fulfillment in our relationships, in our vocation and in our simple everyday living.
Lately, in my own inner struggles with my own vocation, I have been reading the book of Exodus in the Bible. The miraculous deliverance from Egypt, the Ten Commandments, the desert wanderings and the Promise Land, this book has it all! And it seems that the events in Exodus marked Israel as God’s chosen people, where covenants were made and where years hence, in times of praise and trouble the Jewish people would look back at these events and remember who they are, and why they are here in earth.
I don’t know about you but the Ten Commandments had always seemed to me to be like laws, like Hammurabi’s great code. I was thinking about it again and reading again and I realize it’s not quite like that – the way the commandments were written resembles how royal treaties were written at the time, and that makes sense with Israel being chosen by God as his holy nation. It’s not so much a “to not do” list as it is an understanding, and I think throughout the whole thing God is just saying, here guys, here’s a choice between blessings and curses. If you follow me, the One who brought you out of slavery in Egypt, if you really follow me, you’re set and you’ll be blessed. And if you don’t…well…And what was funny when I was reading again was how there is nothing about what we have “to do”, like there is nothing about vocation or things like that. Commandments like honour your parents or not committing murder are not specific things perse, but they are more like attitudes that shape your entire worldview, not specific things you don’t do (though I suppose it could be…LOL). And then I was thinking about the manner in which God gave the Ten Commandments to Moses, how God asked Moses to come up the mountain, up close and personal, and not only so, but asked the Israelites to come close to the mountain, though not touching it. It seems like God wanted his people close to him, as he laid out the foundations of this important treaty that would guide and mark them as his people. And then I noticed the people’s response, how when the Israelites saw the thunder and lightening and heard the trumpet, they got scared and stayed back physically from the mountain even though they were given in the invitation to be up close (20: 18-19). And I thought, maybe it is not just a physical distance but a spiritual one as well, how it is easier to think of a God who is a judge but harder to think of God as a friend, because being a friend entails much more and requires a intimate two way relationship.
Before my journeys in Exodus, I was reading Micah, a little book but with a great great verse that has spawned lately, a great movement (Micah Challenge). When it comes to meaning of life as a Christian and such, it says this “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). The last phrase particularly stood out to me and as I was thinking about that and thinking about the mountain in Exodus, maybe that really is it. A person’s meaning does not come from what s/he does or even who s/he is, but comes from her/his closeness with God. The other variables can easily change, and I still think how funny it is how the people I work at the office with all have at least a master’s degree and yet you would never ever know if you saw them on the street. A bummy looking on the bus can be a phD or homeless, the lines aren’t that black and white. But the closeness, now that is something else. This is a scary realization because it really throws into wack everything I had considered important in my life, typical of someone my age: a meaningful vocation, the special person. At the same time, it comes as a relief perhaps, realizing that my own attempts at finding and constructing meaning, is futile after all.
I received an unexpected strange email this week from UBC Financial Aid and Student Awards. It was an invitation to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship. UBC did a computer scan of all the 4th years who had an average above a certain mark, and when I checked at the student service centre, I realized that I had just reached the number by 0.1 percent. I laughed at that because it is so beyond me. It was even more funny because I was just thinking lately and talking to my coworkers about prestigious awards and such, and how I think people don’t try to win the Nobel Peace Prize. It just happens, like they just live their lives and just do their thing, and sometimes, though most often rarely, they get recognized for it, but they don’t try, they don’t set that as a goal in life. And in the midst of me lately trying to get a job in Vancouver, and preparing for grad school aps and funding...I think these things will just come you know, if it's meant to be. That's so damn hard to accept for a Type A personality.
Closeness to God. Or as my coworkers says, the spiritual connection, the beingness. Moses’ face radiated so much that he had to hid in order to protect the others. I want my life to radiate, I want to be so close that circumstances don’t matter and no person or no job will dictate my beingness and my self worth but the Creator life and all that is good and beautiful.
When we ask, “what is the meaning of life” I think we focus too much on ourselves and the me part. What is the meaning of my life when really, maybe life is not all about you. And so I think when we ask ourselves that question, I think we end up trying to do two things way too much – to prove ourselves and to find ourselves. I had three interviews in the three days this week and as I repeated again and again, trying to sell my qualifications with my transcript and my resume, I was so sick of trying to prove myself worthy, and to affirm myself of who I am. There's nothing wrong with wanting to go to a developing country, or the top school, those are just things and they are neutral. It's the why that matters. Like Snenfer said to me last night, more profoundly than he could have thought, it’s your closeness to God that matters Anna, nothing else.
(steamtrain | stone structure on Victoria Island | being in two places at once! the sign on Portage Bridge marking the border between Quebec and Ontario)
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