already it's two years since i wrote about the kristova leta, the Christ years. time sure flies. i don't feel much different. but i know i am. twice recently i've had close friends, who don't see me very often because of many miles between us, comment that i'm softer than i used to be. i'm not sure i would have come up with that particular word on my own, but i agree with them. that change is pretty miraculous.
i watched a tv show recently where a character insists to another character that people don't change. she was speaking specifically of a marriage relationship, but it got me thinking. because at first, i agreed. yep, that's true, people don't change. or do they? i realize i have. so if i can, why couldn't anyone else? i'm not that special.
but what makes people change? is it a determination inside of them? is it an ultimatum from someone else--parent, spouse, boss? is it an outside force? all of the above? i tend to think it's often a combination of all three and possibly more. external forces exerted on a person don't make change happen unless there's a willingness inside that person to change. and sometimes the inner willingness needs an external kick in the pants.
i know one thing: change becomes easier and more possible when there's an agent of change present. like someone or something we desire to be like, who actually works to make that change happen in us--who influences us from within. prompting change and inspiring it.
hmm. that wasn't what i meant to write about.
i realized and verbalized something recently that just sort of slipped by until a friend pointed out how significant it is.
a new friend asked the other day if i want kids. i paused and out came a somewhat unexpected answer. i said i can't really think of things in those terms anymore, because i'm past the age of desiring something and having the luxury of plenty of time for it to come to fruition. basically: in two days i'm 35 years old, without a boyfriend, fiance, husband. (and i'm not interested in making myself into a single mom on purpose.) healthy women can give birth into their 40s, sure, but...it seems overreaching somehow to continue thinking as i did in my 20s. it's an interesting place to reach when options sort of run out because of circumstances beyond our control. i can't control my age, that's for sure. i usually feel much younger than 35. i'm told i look about 27, which is super cool. but time marches on.
yes, i could get myself married if i wanted to. don't kid yourself: anyone who wants to get married, can. it's not that hard. ah, but marrying the 'right' or 'compatible' or whatever person, at the right time, well, that's another story.
the US is not the well of eligible, hungry-for-marriage men some of my friends believe it is. how do i know? i have several amazing, beautiful, loving women friends in their 30s (who would love to share their lives with someone) who are single. and they, like me, are pursuing what they are passionate about--in most cases, some form of a life of service to others. so, returning to the US determined to find a husband would have to mean, most likely, putting aside my passions and desires in order to be, well, desirable or marryable. i know, there are exceptions, blah blah blah. but be honest. i'm looking at the big picture and the examples i already see.
dating sites like eharmony exist to help those who are frustrated at not meeting enough people to choose a mate well meet more people. [i am so curious what the divorce rate of folks who met all those compatibility markers will be in 10 years.] i've been asked if i would do something like that. i did, once, for less than the money-back guarantee time of a week.
i decided that marriage would be, i hope, a lovely thing. but if it means forcing myself out of the calling and life that i'm pursuing now, then that's not for me. i would happily move into another phase of life if it happened naturally, but i'm not searching for it. i would rather not be seeking the next big thing, and instead living life well exactly where i am, and following this calling with excellence.
there's just too much to do right now without focusing on the future. sure, i have hopes and dreams. but should i sacrifice the opportunities in the present for them? i think i shouldn't.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
all in the perspective
oh it's been so long again.
i had meant to blog all about my old landlord and the move and all that. oh yeah, i moved in february. (new place=amazing: beautiful, luxuries i NEVER imagined in a panelak, and a wonderful landlord.) there was a lot of hate in me for a while. it was really bad. poison. but from the beginning, sort of, i knew i was going to need to forgive my landlord for how he treated me. (and for keeping my security deposit. long story i'm not going to tell. sorry. more poison.)
the reason being that i consider myself a follower of Jesus. and it's not that there is some list of what you have to do as a follower, but part of the gig is caring for my soul. i believe we all have souls, that we are all eternal beings who will eternally live or eternally die. which direction we go is up to us. get busy living or get busy dying. it's true. we all instinctively know it, too, whether we admit it or not. anyway, caring for your soul is part of the eternally living thing. and that's what i'm about. so holding on to hate toward someone is not what someone who wants to lives will do. because hate and unforgiveness are all about death. death of the soul.
the crazy thing is, forgiveness is all about dying. not death, but dying. dying that leads to life. because some does, you know. i had to let die that part of me that knew i was right, that knew i hadn't done anything wrong. that knew i had in fact been wronged. i had to take it out back and shoot it so that my soul could live. because that need-to-be-right thing is poison to the soul. it's the ego or the mind or the sin or whatever. once the need to be right and reminded how right i was was dying (and it's always dying--never, in my experience is it completely dead. it's like kathy bates' character in misery. takes WAY too long to die. which means it can keep popping back up and you have to keep stabbing at its throat or smashing its face with an iron or something. because give it some air and some food and it will regenerate so fast--i know, we're past the misery reference now--that before you know it it will be strong and influential again and you're going to have to go through the whole process of dragging it out back again.), i could get on with living.
i left for the US in early march, still not having forgiven Mr. J. for what he'd done. but, lucky (or God, whichever you like to call him) for me, i arrived at shelter, my church in cali, in time for Lent. and one week i had a chance to nail my hate for Mr. J. to a physical piece of wood in the shape of a cross with a physical nail, and to write his name and actions on a piece of paper that i placed into a fire, burning up for all to see.
from the outside these may seem odd things to do and weird sort of ritualistic voodoo. well, i'll give you that it looks that way. but for me, those actions symbolized the path to freedom. i didn't walk out of church with a lighter step and a song in my soul. no, the real work had just begun. but i used those actions to claim the forgiveness of Mr. J. that i knew Jesus would provide for me if i acted in faith that he would do so. sound convoluted? maybe. but it was like, i knew it was time to start acting like i'd forgiven him. because that way, when the 'but i'm right! i was wronged! i'm going to let myself get worked up about this' thoughts came up (that kathy bates character) i knew that if i squashed them with the power of saying, 'nope, sorry, not going to entertain that because i forgive him,' they would lose strength. no food or air to aid regeneration. and even though they came up a lot at first, they would come up less regularly after that. and, pretty soon, i would find that i had indeed forgiven him. and my soul would be cared for and living. not easy. but possible through the faith that the strength and the impetus for it all came through Jesus.
he's the inspiration, after all. if he can put from his mind all the reasons he shouldn't have died for me (i'm not generally worth dying for) and focus on his love for me instead, i can forgive Mr. J.
and i have. well, it's in process. the way life is in process.
but back to perspectives.
i have really liked most of m. night shyamalan's movies. the ones i don't like are the ones i haven't seen yet because i heard they were no good. i need to stop listening to people. some people.
my friends amy and justin recommended lady in the water to me and i was so surprised they liked it. but they stressed that it's a fable. that was important to them. so i bought it and got around to watching it last weekend with a houseguest/friend. we loved it. i thought it was magical and rich and real. the way all of night's stuff is real because he recognizes and deals with the world beyond what we know and see and touch in creative, inventive ways. he knows it's there and he wants us to talk about it. and that makes his stuff more real than the average writer/director's. i don't know what kind of label he might give his faith, but he gets it.
i was so excited to show it to movie club. after all, if thank you for smoking could get us to a great conversation about purpose and meaning in life, how much deeper could a movie about purpose take us?
they hated it.
they thought it was stupid, with a dumb plot that didn't get more complicated but just stretched the movie minutes out more and more. predictable. dumb. one to one-and-a-half stars (out of five).
so we talked about it. we recorded our conversation and i hope it will reach the internet at some point as a podcast. then i'll link it for you. but i recognized (again) how everything, even how we see movies, is affected by our perspective, our world view. what one person sees as God, another sees as coincidence, fate, luck (all not-so-fancy names for God, by the way) or human endeavor.
i think there are two categories of people concerning fairy tales. 1) those who long for the happy ending, for the hero to win and for it all to be too good not to be true. 2) those who have had it with dreams of happy endings because the world just doesn't work that way so it's all bullshit to even entertain such notions.
these movie club students are in group 2. they know it. and i talked with them about how the movie appeared to me as metaphor, a joyous metaphor of the truth of life: the interconnectedness of people and how magic happens when we work together for a common purpose. justice that comes not too early nor too late. a world that we know from glimpses and stories and dreams. and one of them commented that it is similar to how i see the world and God. and he's right. i'm predisposed to believe in the fairy tale because i know that i am part of the greatest one ever.
and we all are. we can rejoice and live in it and drink of it and soak in all we can and let it heal our wounds and bring us together, or we can fight it, rationalize it, be cynical about it, and die as a result.
it's our choice. it's always our choice.
i can't stop showing movie clubs the movies i see as life-giving, even when they hate them. because it's about the conversation, the journey. i have tremendous hope for them on their journey to believing and living the fairy tale. not because of being right or wrong, but because of life or death. i long for them to live.
i had meant to blog all about my old landlord and the move and all that. oh yeah, i moved in february. (new place=amazing: beautiful, luxuries i NEVER imagined in a panelak, and a wonderful landlord.) there was a lot of hate in me for a while. it was really bad. poison. but from the beginning, sort of, i knew i was going to need to forgive my landlord for how he treated me. (and for keeping my security deposit. long story i'm not going to tell. sorry. more poison.)
the reason being that i consider myself a follower of Jesus. and it's not that there is some list of what you have to do as a follower, but part of the gig is caring for my soul. i believe we all have souls, that we are all eternal beings who will eternally live or eternally die. which direction we go is up to us. get busy living or get busy dying. it's true. we all instinctively know it, too, whether we admit it or not. anyway, caring for your soul is part of the eternally living thing. and that's what i'm about. so holding on to hate toward someone is not what someone who wants to lives will do. because hate and unforgiveness are all about death. death of the soul.
the crazy thing is, forgiveness is all about dying. not death, but dying. dying that leads to life. because some does, you know. i had to let die that part of me that knew i was right, that knew i hadn't done anything wrong. that knew i had in fact been wronged. i had to take it out back and shoot it so that my soul could live. because that need-to-be-right thing is poison to the soul. it's the ego or the mind or the sin or whatever. once the need to be right and reminded how right i was was dying (and it's always dying--never, in my experience is it completely dead. it's like kathy bates' character in misery. takes WAY too long to die. which means it can keep popping back up and you have to keep stabbing at its throat or smashing its face with an iron or something. because give it some air and some food and it will regenerate so fast--i know, we're past the misery reference now--that before you know it it will be strong and influential again and you're going to have to go through the whole process of dragging it out back again.), i could get on with living.
i left for the US in early march, still not having forgiven Mr. J. for what he'd done. but, lucky (or God, whichever you like to call him) for me, i arrived at shelter, my church in cali, in time for Lent. and one week i had a chance to nail my hate for Mr. J. to a physical piece of wood in the shape of a cross with a physical nail, and to write his name and actions on a piece of paper that i placed into a fire, burning up for all to see.
from the outside these may seem odd things to do and weird sort of ritualistic voodoo. well, i'll give you that it looks that way. but for me, those actions symbolized the path to freedom. i didn't walk out of church with a lighter step and a song in my soul. no, the real work had just begun. but i used those actions to claim the forgiveness of Mr. J. that i knew Jesus would provide for me if i acted in faith that he would do so. sound convoluted? maybe. but it was like, i knew it was time to start acting like i'd forgiven him. because that way, when the 'but i'm right! i was wronged! i'm going to let myself get worked up about this' thoughts came up (that kathy bates character) i knew that if i squashed them with the power of saying, 'nope, sorry, not going to entertain that because i forgive him,' they would lose strength. no food or air to aid regeneration. and even though they came up a lot at first, they would come up less regularly after that. and, pretty soon, i would find that i had indeed forgiven him. and my soul would be cared for and living. not easy. but possible through the faith that the strength and the impetus for it all came through Jesus.
he's the inspiration, after all. if he can put from his mind all the reasons he shouldn't have died for me (i'm not generally worth dying for) and focus on his love for me instead, i can forgive Mr. J.
and i have. well, it's in process. the way life is in process.
but back to perspectives.
i have really liked most of m. night shyamalan's movies. the ones i don't like are the ones i haven't seen yet because i heard they were no good. i need to stop listening to people. some people.
my friends amy and justin recommended lady in the water to me and i was so surprised they liked it. but they stressed that it's a fable. that was important to them. so i bought it and got around to watching it last weekend with a houseguest/friend. we loved it. i thought it was magical and rich and real. the way all of night's stuff is real because he recognizes and deals with the world beyond what we know and see and touch in creative, inventive ways. he knows it's there and he wants us to talk about it. and that makes his stuff more real than the average writer/director's. i don't know what kind of label he might give his faith, but he gets it.
i was so excited to show it to movie club. after all, if thank you for smoking could get us to a great conversation about purpose and meaning in life, how much deeper could a movie about purpose take us?
they hated it.
they thought it was stupid, with a dumb plot that didn't get more complicated but just stretched the movie minutes out more and more. predictable. dumb. one to one-and-a-half stars (out of five).
so we talked about it. we recorded our conversation and i hope it will reach the internet at some point as a podcast. then i'll link it for you. but i recognized (again) how everything, even how we see movies, is affected by our perspective, our world view. what one person sees as God, another sees as coincidence, fate, luck (all not-so-fancy names for God, by the way) or human endeavor.
i think there are two categories of people concerning fairy tales. 1) those who long for the happy ending, for the hero to win and for it all to be too good not to be true. 2) those who have had it with dreams of happy endings because the world just doesn't work that way so it's all bullshit to even entertain such notions.
these movie club students are in group 2. they know it. and i talked with them about how the movie appeared to me as metaphor, a joyous metaphor of the truth of life: the interconnectedness of people and how magic happens when we work together for a common purpose. justice that comes not too early nor too late. a world that we know from glimpses and stories and dreams. and one of them commented that it is similar to how i see the world and God. and he's right. i'm predisposed to believe in the fairy tale because i know that i am part of the greatest one ever.
and we all are. we can rejoice and live in it and drink of it and soak in all we can and let it heal our wounds and bring us together, or we can fight it, rationalize it, be cynical about it, and die as a result.
it's our choice. it's always our choice.
i can't stop showing movie clubs the movies i see as life-giving, even when they hate them. because it's about the conversation, the journey. i have tremendous hope for them on their journey to believing and living the fairy tale. not because of being right or wrong, but because of life or death. i long for them to live.
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