Ok World, Let's Be Better: Hidden Male Depression

Photo credit Vincent Giordano/
Trinacria Photography

Yet another web famous, "well-adjusted," happy teenager commits suicide. When I see titles like this, I can't help but be concerned. The CDC reports that suicide is the third leading cause of death among people aged 10-24 in the US, 4,600 young people a year, and 81% of these deaths are males. We are failing teenage boys. Something needs to change.

As a teacher of literature, I feel like I have a relatively opportunistic stance in the education of young people: through literature we can wrestle with social and emotional issues that the media sometimes portrays as black and white and make things a little complicated. Classically feminist readings are sometimes the most advantageous places to promote gender discussion.

The Child Study Centre reports that by 13 years, twice as many girls as boys are clinically depressed and tend to stay that way till adulthood. An Oxford University study, further, found that while women are 40% more likely to develop depression than men, they are also 75% more likely to report having been recently depressed and 60% more likely to report an anxiety disorder.

These conflicting statistics beg the question: how well do we really know how our boys feel?

Boys, young men, older men, they are sensitive and emotive, sometimes behind an exterior of lackadaisical indifference, anti-social behavior, or, so it seems, a restless splash of happiness.

While gender-concerned groups have worked to make it safe for women to like science and maths, found non-pink and biologically accurate barbies, dolls, and other toys, and made the world a safer place for trans-gender children, boys have often born the brunt of the media disdain, being either ignored or chastened for their (boy)sterous, wild behavior and non-pc language, being proffered as potentially abusive, both physically and sexually, and more often than not, set up as a societal villain.

The hashtag #noteveryman sparked outrage in 2014 when men pushed back against allegations that "men are..."

Yet as men are villainized in the media around the world, (and sometimes rightly so), have we been offering boys any alternative to the guns-blazing, super-hero motif that we've been offering them? While I want our boys to see strong, complicated characters, with weaknesses and struggles, and ALSO integrity, I also want them to feel like they can make mistakes and search there hearts for answers. I want them to know that they are not inherently bad, and that they have a lot to offer the world.

Are we living in a world that doesn't offer them any way out of either the "badass" motif or the "nice guy" motif? I would say that the evidence doesn't seem to imply this.

We need to do better, for women, yes, who more often than not tend to be victims in our world, but also for our boys, and our men, who have the same sensitive hearts, anxieties, fears, and sadness, and who are much, much less likely to tell anyone about it until it's too late.

My Other Half

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” ― Plato

People who say that Eastern philosophy is dead in the West need to check out our attitudes of love and romance. Everywhere you go ideas of "incomplete", "better half," "significant other," "partner," and now even "relationship synergy" abound. Millions of people have taken to dating websites, marriage websites, and I believe that now 1-8 marriages found each other online. WOW. Yin and Yang philosophies abound, that the dichotomy of man and woman (or woman/woman, man/man) is a balance that exists for a reason, that we complete and fulfill one another, and that being alone is bad.

In the age of internet quiz mania (which I absolutely love btw), we can find our Disney Prince, discover Your Celebrity Boyfriend, (I could go on, alas, but I won't.)

Even more embedded in the Chinese philosophy of balance and embodying yin and yang is the dragon and the phoenix. Traditionally also representing the Emperor and his Empress, the dragon embodies justice, power, and all things masculine. The phoenix, on the other hand, is mercy, healing, grace and other traditionally feminine virtues.

While internet quizzing may not be the way forward, now, more than ever, society is studying human cultures, impulses, drives, talents, and voices. We want to know about the experiences of different races, religions, sexes, genders, (I could go on). But often one voice that is always heard with sarcasm and derision is the voice of the celibate. The voice of people who have chosen to forego sex, to not seek for balance within a partner, but within themselves. I do acknowledge that many couples don't adhere to the "complete me" mentality; however, I still find it as a default attitude in many people and cultures that I encounter.

So as a single almost-30, I've been lauded for my hard work and prowess, and derided for being "too independent," "too clever," and even been told "men like women who need them." And while I didn't give into those taunts that I'd be single forever unless I toned down my independence, a part of me bought the dichotomy philosophy, and I focused on being the phoenix: I became gentle, I invested in people, I worked on my care giving, I improved my listening techniques.

None of that is wrong. There is nothing wrong with gentleness, peace-making, listening, mentoring, etc. It's to be applauded wherever it is found. The mistake I made was within myself to say, "I'm the phoenix, I take care of people and sometimes others take advantage of me, so I need a dragon... someone who will stop others from taking advantage, protect me, support me. Someone I can nurture and heal."

Being a martyr and letting people take advantage of your gentleness isn't being a phoenix. Waiting for someone to rescue you isn't a good thing. Sometimes us single girls have to rescue ourselves. So now that I've developed the phoenix in me, (and my inner dragon has laid dormant for a while) I need to get back to developing the dragon. For me, this does not mean being masculine, but walking the line of grace and justice. Forgive people, but let them know they hurt you. Invest in others, but not at the sacrifice of your own health and well being. For me, this also means that I've started taking jiu jitsu classes.

One of my passions is educating the more forlorn members of the world. My dream is to move to Brazil and work with street children and ex-prostitutes. Every person I've talked to about this has mentioned how dangerous Brazil can be. While the Brazilian people I've met are generous and loving, many Brazilian women have told me horror stories of misogyny in their country. While a lot of men are now standing with women for women's rights, there are still men who feel entitled to prey on women. More often than not this happens in developing cultures. Like the people I most want to reach. So should I wait for a man to marry me and join in on my quest? #Ain'tnobodygottimeforthat. No. I'll take jiu jitsu and hone my self defense skills. I'll read up on the risks and dangers of this part of the world--I'll invest in the dragon part of myself.

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." 

While this verse has been adopted in many marriage ceremonies, the original context was living in community. Being friends and family with others. I love this verse because it shows the importance of being in relationships with others without implying deficiency. Iron is iron, regardless of other iron being around: a sword, a shield, a knife, a spear. Whatever tool or instrument you are, YOU are YOU, whole and complete, just as you are. The other iron--the partner, friend, family member, community--they make you better than you were before, but don't complete you. Yes, we all have tendencies and personality traits in any number of psychologically and emotionally measurable rubrics, but we don't have to wait around for the right people to come around to balance us out. We can see and know ourselves and balance ourselves out. This way, we're giving our communities, our partners, our friends and family even more of the good in ourselves--we aren't expecting others to be what we need them to be in order to be what we are. So take a deep breath, drink in peace in the knowledge that you, all by yourself, are whole, complete, and awesome. Good talk. High five!

Psalm 139: 14 "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well."

Letting Go

So I run a pretty fab team of ESL teachers at my high school. We have good times, have lunch together frequently, like going to parties, get pretty good work out of the students. We've got routines. We've got team work. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses.

So when one of my best teachers informed me she was going for a job interview, I felt my heart drop into my kidneys... it was not fun.

I felt extremely torn. On the one hand, she's my friend, she'd fabulous and any institution would be lucky to have her; on the other hand, tears of sadness sprung into my eyes at the thought of her leaving, not to mention all of her skill, experience, and expertise - she would be difficult and expensive to replace.

Let's be honest - I could have been a complete jerk. Threatened her with giving a bad reference. I could have refused to let her take off work with pay. I could have done a lot of things. But part of training and mentoring my team members should mean that one day they go off and run teams of their own, right? Doesn't this simply mean I've done my job well?

The other not-so-small twinge of doubt that also sidled into my mind told me that maybe my image of a happy and whole department was an illusion of my own making - maybe my department wasn't happy and I haven't done a very good job at leading and mentoring them. #shock #horror #dunDunDUN!


So how do I broach that potentially very awkward conversation?

The only way I know how to move forward in situations like this is just to be as honest and genuine as I can be, showing both sides of my mind and be open and candid. I didn't want to use manipulative, emotional pleas. I didn't want to be a tool. I didn't want to worry about our department - people have come and go before and we've moved on, yet I also wanted to make sure she knew how valued she was in our department.

While everything worked out - the interviewers and she decided they didn't want each other - and she also let me know before the interview that she was happy on our team (other family concerns prompted the application), I can't pretend that I'll work with the same team forever. I had to let go of many things to do the right thing - trying to control this situation would have spat on a good team member and definitely broken up the team bond we have.

While I don't want to sound like I'm patting myself on the back, I'm glad I had the integrity and heart to be honest and vulnerable, and in a sense, be weak as the situation transpired. Even if it doesn't turn out the same way in the future and I 'lose' a great team member, knowing that I'm doing right for them personally, professionally, not merely thinking of change as a threat, makes me feel as though I've grown as a leader.

It's sometimes a long, lonely road - leading a fairly high-functioning team in a difficult school - but I love the challenge and I love the ladies I face the challenge with. It's as much my responsibility to do right by them than as to do right by our performance tables.

Ok, good talk, guys! 

"The Best Way to Fight Terrorism: Education" - One Interview with Malala

I won't bungle this blog with a lot of words. I hope you've seen the interview Malala did with Jon Stewart on The Daily Show. Besides the great irony he shows with his NJ joke, he does sit back and let Malala do most of the talking.

On being asked about how to end terrorism: 

"I think education is the best way.... Going to school isn't only learning about different subjects. It teaches you communication; it teaches you how to live a life. It teaches you about history; it teaches you about how science is working and other than that, you learn about equality because students are provided with the same benches, they sit equally. It shows us equality; it teaches us how to live with others - how to accept different languages, how to accept each others' traditions and each others religions. It also teaches justice; it also teaches respect. It teaches us to live together - that's why I support sending children to school because it's the best way to fight terrorism." 

Once again, the invisible, unofficial curriculum wins.

we're in the same boat now

"We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now." ~ MLK Jr. 

The sky is blue and dotted with low-flying clouds like pillows strewn across the heavens. The breeze is gently rustling the trees and it's a comfortable spring temperature here in London. Tomorrow is July 4th and I'll be missing the patriotic shenanigans in the USA: bbqs, picnics, parades, flags, fireworks, and the food--oh the food!

I can't help but think of my country with a reminiscent, sad, yet proud melange of feeling. The downfall of DOMA, the arming of the Syrian rebels, the slow but steady end to the war in Afghanistan, and all the discussion and (some) action regarding Guatanamo Bay... With Newton and Hurricane Sandy in our wake, Occupy Wallstreet, and a slow crawl out of a recession, the USA, it seems, is in the middle of a bad high school research paper.

In middle school, at some point or another, a woman with a bun and a pencil skirt will lecture on the nature of narrative conflict, and outline the four main types:

• man versus man 
• man versus nature
• man versus society 
• man versus self

While so many movements in the US seem to be moving toward unity, freedom, love, care, so many others seem to favor power, greed, and general disunity. And it seems like everyone disagrees about all of the different issues from business policies, to women's health care, to hipsters. And going beyond merely disagreeing, we won't listen to each other, or even let each other finish speaking, but we make memes, and react and shut each other down and build walls against each other, build boxes of right and wrong and put our friends in them based on the issues that we agree with and disagree with. 

We are a country divided in our hearts, not just on specific issues, but against ourselves when we believe that anyone who doesn't agree with us, must be an enemy, must be against us, must be thwarted. Abraham Lincoln famously said 

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

Yet we set each other on the prowl for potential enemies when we use the "team" mentality, making us feel traitorous if we grow to disagree or learn something new. We might all come from different places, religions, traditional socio-economic backgrounds, ethnicities, etc., but as MLK Jr said, "we're all in the same boat now." This is our country, our world, for better or worse, and we need to work together, and work for each other. We may have differing views on family breakdown in Western nations, but whether you think children need mom's and dad's or just loving adults supporting them, it's clear that when there is dissension in the home, trouble follows. As Jesus said in Matthew 12: 25: 

"Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand."

One of the most beautiful movements I'm seeing spread across not only the USA, but the world: pockets of people committed and passionate about community, family, and justice. Groups of people not just tolerating differences, but celebrating them--knocking the walls down to let the neighbors in and share their lives and traditions and love with them, regardless of whether or not they agree. 

Accordingly, in nature we see that the strongest, most complex organisms aren't homogenous, but rather heterogenous, with all the different cells and parts communicating together effectively. In the last year certain homogenous groups like Westboro Baptist Church and other groups have been wheedling down into nothing, regardless of the hate mongering that happens. And homogenous battle might have worked for the Spartans, but their tiny society collapsed long ago. 

Instead of gazing inward only towards our circle, we need to see each other, not with the eyes of judgement, but with discernment and perspicacity, and ultimately with compassion because we're all broken and messed up. We've all got baggage and pain to share, and we all need mercy and humility and grace and a friend to give us the strength to move forward. It's not acceptable to cry for mercy when we mess up and rage for justice for our neighbor: 

"Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally."

And here Abe Lincoln correctly asserts that many of the things which legislatures are writing, judging, and passing are not what they would rally for if they were or if they knew the people who suffered from the laws they passed. Not just knew they existed. Not just knew statistics about them. But really knew them, spent time with them, and listened to their stories and their hearts.

"We're all in the same boat now," and all over the world people aren't tolerating injustice. Rebellions, demonstrations, and protests are sprouting in countries, cities, and communities across the globe from Brazil to Egypt to the UK. Unrest in North and Sub-Saharan Africa escalates and dissipates only to escalate again. Education is growing in parts of the world, but the equality gap widening in many 'affluent' countries, and scandal after scandal is uncovering the rampant greed and manipulation that plagues much of the world. Hunger, disease, slavery, poverty... and I'm just talking about my hometown. MLK Jr. again declares:

"An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.... Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness." 

We need to get out of our own heads and see others, listen to others, invest in others. In a data driven world which has found a million ways to analyze contemporary life, it seems we've lost sight of what we were trying to gain. MLK Jr. had a dream...

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." 

And it seems that some of us, in fighting for or against equality, be it between religions, races, sexes, ages, people with disabilities, people with different sexual orientations, etc., we lose the importance of having integrity, of developing our character, and being people of character. As St. Paul so scandalously declares in Galatians 3: 28 (so much so that he got ran out of town):

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." 

If you want to label me, I'm a 20-something, white, middle-class, educated, independent/liberal, Christian, American woman. I don't claim to have the monopoly on truth or love or goodness, in fact, I mess up a lot, and the most poignant things I said were stolen from MLK Jr., Lincoln, and Jesus. I see so much happening to rip up the structures that propogated hate and injustice, but I also see new hates and new forms of injustice born, and old loves drown through unlistening voices. I love my country; I'm a proud American, but America, like the rest of the world, is broken, and we need to work together to heal her.

And so I'll leave you with one of the lesser known verses of The Star-Spangled Banner:

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall standBetween their loved home and the war's desolation!Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued landPraise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall waveO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

 Happy Independence Day!

Sing O Barren Woman

Sing, O barren one who did not bear;
burst into song and shout,
you who have not been in labour!
For the children of the desolate woman will be more
than the children of her that is married, says the Lord. Isaiah 54:1 

As a single woman who believes in sex only during marriage, having my own children may never happen for me. Honestly, I don't mind not being married, I'm really independent. But I'd love to have those relationships... wife, mother, which are going to be difficult.

Western society has put tons of emphasis on sex. I feel like sex and gender and roles and everything just bombard me everyday. Not having sex somehow makes me less of an adult. Whatevs...

But in biblical times, in those cultures, sex was a means to have children. Being barren, not having children was a woman's true disgrace. I know some women with fertility issues struggle with this, but that's not what this post is about really. Yes, because of my beliefs I may never be able to have my own children. But there's hope for me. I do not have to  be desolate even if I don't have my own children...


Nowadays, single women of certain means have the opportunity to adopt children... lucky me. I have always wanted to adopt and maybe one day that will happen for me. But even this isn't necessarily what Isaiah was talking about in this verse. He's talking about spiritual children.

If I don't get the blessing of a family and my own children, I am still full of love. I can spread that motherly, sisterly love all over my friends' children and my siblings' children, and the children I teach, and kids I meet, and people I meet.

do not hold back; lengthen your cords
and strengthen your stakes.
For you will spread out to the right and to the left,
and your descendants will possess the nations
and will settle the desolate towns.
Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed;
do not be discouraged, for you will not suffer disgrace;
for you will forget the shame of your youth,
and the disgrace of your widowhood you will remember no more.
For your Maker is your husband,
the Lord of hosts is his name;
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer,
the God of the whole earth he is called.
For the Lord has called you (2-6)

I believe Isaiah is talking about spiritual influence... mentoring... counselling... teaching. As Donald Miller said, "If someone loves us... they will make us who we are." And I get to do that with a lot of people. I get to love them with God's love, with crazy, hyper, spazzy Jenny-love oozing with the Holy Spirit.

So let's take a step back and make this bigger... what if this passage isn't just about women, or single women, or barren women, but about the church? The section header reads it's "God's everlasting covenant of peace." 

Ok, so besides single women now having meaning in society, God is going to take us (the church/ men & women) from a state of what was then considered "uselessness" and give us meaning and purpose. I'm sure we've all felt that there were times where we could be more "successful" or "productive" or "popular" if we smudged the rules a bit. We've felt the need to perform. We've looked for loopholes. I'm sure plenty of women in Bible times were saying "Well... I probably COULD have a baby if I just had sex..." One of Lot's daughters even got him drunk and slept with him to get pregnant! 

"I'll be faster if I just use some of those steroids." 

"I could get extra time if I fake sickness." 

"One little fib won't hurt anyone." 

"I could pretend it came broken and send it back." 

Now, to go even FURTHER... in the New Testament, Paul uses this section to talk about freedom we have in Christ and he makes it an allegory by talking about Hagar and Sarah. Every Jew would know that Hagar was Sarah's hand-maiden, and Sarah was Abraham's barren wife who was pretty old. God had promised Abraham that he would father more children than the stars in the sky... Sarah got tired of being made fun of and sent her maid in to get pregnant... 

God keeps His promises, so two babies were born: a free son (Isaac) and a slave son (Ishmael). One born of the flesh... one of the Spirit--the promise of God. One child was a miracle, the other natural. 

We are miracles... we are born of God's Spirit, and when we love on each other, we spread that Spirit around, creating domino effect "descendants" of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and my least-favorite FOTS, long-suffering. 

So we're children of Sarah... the barren woman. Sometimes I'm also Sarah, the woman who has to have God smack me around cause I start to lose faith. I can rejoice, on a spiritual and personal level in these parallel scriptures because I am free and I can live in freedom. I don't have to give into these little urges to perform, to compete with others, to be afraid of their cultural definitions of disgrace. 

I also can know that if I don't ever get married or have children, my life won't be purposeless. I am not useless if my womb is unused. Women are so much more than just human incubators. God knew this long before human rights acts and suffragette movements. He knew it even when women were considered property, and He's tried to get men and women to love and belong to each other as one from the beginning , but let's not get into male/female relationships... not in this post. No. 

No. These passages show me that God sees me and loves me as I am. Not only if I fulfil certain prerequisites to be worthy or useful or successful like having babies in wedlock (such a strange word). He will make my life full of rich purpose and meaning, if only I will hand over to him my deepest fears and insecurities... if I can sing out of my barrenness, He will fill my empty womb and my tent with descendants. So strike up the band and turn the mic up because He's put a lot of love in me and I'm ready to go. Amen. 

The Tree of Life

Sorrow is knowledge: They who know the most must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth, the Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life. ~ Lord Byron 

Klimt's "Tree of Life" 

Truly we live in the age of information. The amount of people who have jobs in data or analysing data astounds me. The number of statistics or the sheer fact that people have spent time collecting certain kinds of data amazes and overwhelms me a lot of the time. Sometimes data and information are helpful, life-changing and saving even. Sometimes I think it just overwhelms us and causes fear, or is skewed and not interpreted in healthy ways.

You see, information is amoral... it's not good or evil... it waits to be used and interpreted for good or evil ends. It's great that the same types of arguments are used about guns. Sometimes twitter and facebook can feel like machine guns and grenades, and while it's easy to scoff it off, it's much more difficult to scoff at the number of student suicides from cyber-bullying.

I'm not the first person to argue that the anger that words and information can produce are the true weapons of mass destruction in our world today. The emotional and psychological damage, as well as the lack of development in our social and emotional psyches caused by constantly arguing and feeling that we're in a state of conflict is completely unhealthy.

I will be the first person to admit that I like to win an argument. I like feeling smart, and not just feeling smart, but smarter than other people. As I've gotten older, however, I've tried to use my intelligence for benevolent purposes and not to be an asshole. I've also gotten several healthy doses of "actually there are lots of smart people" and been amazingly and rightly humbled in my own opinion of my intelligence.

Still, I love learning and reading and taking classes--classes in anything from pottery to astrophysics. I love reading poetry, history, theology, and steampunk novels. I just love to learn.

But while I make reading lists for myself and daydream about degrees I'm going to one day get and certifications (everything from first aid to rock climbing to Victorian literature), life might be passing me by. I have to ask myself if I am, as Whitman wrote "contributing a verse" to life's play or merely watching and commenting on the sidelines?
As King Solomon said:

"And I applied my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is but a chasing after wind. For in much wisdom is much vexation, and those who increase knowledge increase sorrow." Eccesiastes 1:17-18

It truly seems that the more information we have access to, the more anxiety-ridden our society becomes. We do know better, or we think we do, so we stress and snap and fight and argue and we pull our soap boxes over to our friend's tables unwanted. Love and understanding seems to exist less and less as we all get "smarter" and "more-informed".

Bill Johnson, in a blaze of political fury kindly spoke "Step back and decide how important your opinions are verses the people you claim to love." He was, I believe speaking in the spirit of Saint Paul to the Corinthians:

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. Give no offence to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, so that they may be saved. 1 Cor.10:31-33 

I don't think he meant that everything is ok and we don't need to be offended by anything and that we have to be ok with everything. For in 9: 22 he says again "I have become all things to all people, so that I might by any means save some."

I believe he's trying to say that he's going to try to see things from their perspective. He's going to give things a go their way and love them where they are so that he has a better chance of showing them God's love. Love is, after all, the most "the most excellent way" 1 Cor 12:31. As Plato so amazingly said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a difficult battle." 

So just as in the Garden of Eden, on a daily basis, sometimes moment to moment, I find myself between two trees in a lush Garden... The Tree of Knowledge with all of it's prestige tempts me with it's luscious fruit, and the Tree of Life, with it's fruit of the Spirit, the Tree of Life, who is Jesus, my Lord, who lures me to him gently and with grace and truth and forgiveness and justice shows me the path of love when I would choose anger and fear. 

It feels so freeing to not have to be angry all the time, to not have to judge people, to not have to feel so conflicted. I just have to love people and listen and try to do my best. I don't have to have all the answers. I don't have to be the authority. I don't have to be right, I just have to love, which is always most excellent. 

Brave: Post Disney Families

Finally there is a film where the father is not an idiot, dead or abusive... Finally there is a film where the princess is NOT MARRIED at the end. Finally there is a film where the main story line is not between the princess and a prince, but between a Mother and her Daughter.

In today's world, we need more movies about family and not about romance. Romance doesn't build families... romance initiates... communication builds families, understanding builds families, honesty builds families, letting go of pride builds families... love builds families.

For real relationships to happen, for real love to form... we have to be Brave. Amen.  

Free Hearts

I have a winged-heart pendant that I found at a lil shop for about $5. I wear it almost everyday, like if I wear it I'll be more free. Like I'll be showing the world that my heart isn't tied down, that I'm not attached. Not attached to what, you may ask?

That's where I would pause and think for a moment.

You see, the most common idea is that your heart is free from people, but that's not what I want. I want to love and serve my friends and family with all my heart. I don't want to hold back from them.

Yet everything in me yearns for freedom. Like the urge to just get into the middle of nowhere and just run on a wooded track, an open field, the beach... to swim laps up the coast, to dive down deep and lay on the bottom of the pool... to lay on the roof at night and watch the stars. I want to feel a part of the bigness and deepness and fullness of this world.

I want to feel invulnerable to the influences of the powers... I want poisonous media images not to infect me, I want vile name-calling political campaigns to bounce off like a rubber ball... I want to walk with wisdom, not objectivity, since I'm not sure that exists in an individual, but collectively.

I want to let go of my fears... fear of being rejected, fear of being inadequate, fears so big and dark and deep the ocean could fill them... they stab at me in the night, they eat at me in the day. I'm getting better at shrugging them off, pushing them away.

There is something precious in freedom that's fragile and subtle, and there is something ferocious in freedom that bites and barks and refuses to be satisfied. The Yearning for Freedom can come from desperation, like Jenny in Forest Gump, "Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly far, far, far away from here."

Other times, it is this urge deep inside us not to be attached to things... I went to Mablethorpe on the coast of the North Sea, and at a midnight bonfire, I wandered down the long coast to the water in the middle of the night, in the darkness. I couldn't see anything, it was black on black, with the sand meeting the water meeting the darkness. The wind brushed my face the way that sea breezes do. I stared out into the expanse of the sea, and the Holy Darkness met me. It was like the 3rd day of Creation, me and God's face hovering over the expanse of the waters. It reminded me of Psalm 139: 7-12

Where can I go from your spirit?
   Or where can I flee from your presence? 
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
   if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. 
If I take the wings of the morning
   and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, 
even there your hand shall lead me,
   and your right hand shall hold me fast. 
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
   and the light around me become night’, 
even the darkness is not dark to you;
   the night is as bright as the day,
   for darkness is as light to you. 

God surely is in the darkness for I felt Him there... I felt so terrifyingly free there.

Freedom from this world, from fear, from anxiety and worry and social pressures is what God calls us to. He wants us to experience this freedom of throwing all of our love into our community, but not being bound by the results. To be invested, but not enslaved. I am convinced the answer is NOT to be indifferent, but to be so grounded in God's love and power, that you can be careless with your heart. It is nestled safely under the shadow of his wings, so you can spread this love around your community lavishly. I am trying to learn the discipline of freedom. I feel like this is going to be a long journey. 

Priorities

From previous blog:

“Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter.” Francis Chan

How many things? My head explodes with the number... with how many useless sojourns I've taken, how many dead proficiencies I've earned. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling like these soulless things have influence over me. I'm tired of being bored or too easily entertained. I want to be devoted to the things that matter, and I know, deep down, that those things are people--not money or books or clothes or useless talents. 

Tech Frenzy: whaaaaat?

Living in "real time" has become an alternate form of reality. We can have virtual identities in Second Life, Computer games, video games, facebook, twitter, and on and on it goes... I've posted before, defending Social Media, using it to build community.

The thing is there comes a time when our need to share our lives online overpowers our need to live with those who surround us.

Today I sat in the pub with some friends watching the Wimbledon final and I looked up to see all of them staring not at the giant HD projector screen in front of us, but at their phone and ipad screens... Excuse me? What!?

In the midst of having community, saying comments to one another wasn't what their hearts were into, but commenting to the internet and reading others' comments and enjoying the online joke... that was more important...

I'm not going to say twitter isn't important. It's definitely changing big games across the world. President Obama has used Twitter more than once to motivate citizens to tell Congress what they want... most recently  NOT to double student loan interest rates. Twitter is a great way to engage young voters and get them involved in politics...

But I think many people mistake the idea of being famous or popular with the idea of being good. Yes those things can help you do good things by gaining support. Recently Oatmeal writer, Matthew Inman has raised something like $90,000 for cancer research on this online comic website. His popularity opened people's pockets.

But on the other hand, how many times have I seen people waiting for a table at a restaurant, the entire family checking their cell phones, people on dates checking their cell phones, people together with their minds and hearts so far apart, as if reality only existed online. If it didn't happen on facebook, it didn't happen.


Online technology is a great way to motivate people, to communicate and to stay in touch with loved ones... but let's not forget the people right in front of our faces in the process or forget that we can communicate in ways other than #twitter.

The Healing Love of Community: Spotlight on Godly Men

“We must kill the false woman who is preventing the live one from breathing.” ― Hélène Cixous

I feel like Helene Cixous would probably tell me I'm  fool for writing this post... She would be furious that I've taken her feminist philosophy and made it about humanity instead of only about women. I know men have oppressed and hurt women throughout history, but I know women are also powerful, and we also injure and ignore and have our own way of oppressing...

Studies show that men usually don't talk about things when they're upset. They let things fester. They hold things in, and it can cause some serious issues in their hearts, in their minds, and in their relationships. It ends up being bad for everyone really... and I know loads of women would say "well then just TALK about it then!"... But methinks it probably isn't that simple.

Regardless, this post isn't really about the problems between men and women (of which there are plenty)... This post is about the blessings men have been in my life the past few weeks.

You see, I've been making friends with some guys at church, and I've always had guy friends, so this is nothing new... but... God's love is just so imbued into these men that it's really healing some hurting places in my heart... and before you go there, NO... I'm not falling in love with any of them. I'm pretty sure none of them are falling in love with me.

This is bigger than romantic love.

It's God's love.

When I try to explain it, it sounds like and looks like romantic love... but it feels so much deeper and purer and smoother than all that...

It happens in things as simple as a look... these men look at my face, and it seems like pure light comes from their eyes--I actually blush sometimes and stare at my shoes, because it's powerful, as if they can see into me.

Living in London where I've encountered a lot of cat calls and men staring at me like that shark stared at the surfer girl... this is so refreshing. I don't feel like I'm going to be judged or devoured or anything. I feel like I can be an innocent girl with them... I can be free because there is nothing predatorial in the interaction. It's simple and light and lovely. So many times I either feel ignored or as though I'm the subject of a bemused hunger, but not with these fellas...

It happens with them listening, remembering things, asking me about things... knowing my life--not to get anything from me, not to come at me with romantic love, but just to know me as a sister, as a friend...

It happens with a soft word... an idea spoken so gently that I feel impelled to obey them. They aren't commanding me. They aren't putting their will on me, or even asserting an opinion or anything... these words are offered so gently, so impartially, so calmly, and I just feel the Holy Spirit in them that I just stop dead in my tracks... something in my soul seems to perk up and listen, again, not in romantic love, just in this "I know you are thinking of me and I'll listen to you" way... Similar to the way I feel the Navi in Avatar would say "I see you"...

I don't think these interactions are a me-specific thing... I think these men just have God's Spirit in them and God is letting me see glimpses of this... how His Spirit changes the way we do community and relationships. It changes how we listen to people, how we see people, how we consider things--it changes our community. It brings freedom, letting us put aside our "false" selves, and airing out the live one... I feel more like a "real" woman... more like I can be free to be a woman, more like I am accepted as a woman in society, more like I fit into the world because I'm being loved into the community there with these wonderful guys...

I think a lot of men I meet feel powerless... it's a tool used to enslave them... but men seem to have such influence over people's lives (not that women don't, but that's another post). Men are so strong--physically, emotionally, spiritually... and they can either use that strength to bless the people in their lives (and they will be so blessed indeed), or they can withhold it, or use it against them, and then, what are we to do?

All of us with our hurts and our messiness... God's love in us helps us to love each other into wholeness... so we can better be ourselves, and become better selves in the process... men and women together. Whether or not it's easy or we like it, in the beginning it was created male and female--we've been in it together since then, and there's no getting out of that community now.

Why we love...

I read a lot of books. I read because I almost feel more alive inside these proxy worlds than in my own sometimes. I read because I feel these characters. I read because I can travel and see and smell and learn. I read because wisdom comes to me, from the conversations with the characters... I read because I see myself in these people, and I see patterns and types and life. I read so I can live better and so that I can know myself.

I've been reading Much Ado About Nothing, which is a play I didn't much like a while ago... but this time around I've been seeing myself in Beatrice, and Beatrice in me.

BEATRICE: Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.
LEONATO: You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
BEATRICE: What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than aman, I am not for him. 

I've been thinking of why we love... why we want love, why we crave love, and why we'd turn it away. Part of the reason the deception worked in Much Ado... the deception that brought Beatrice and Benedick together, is that they saw only parts of themselves clearly... they saw their pride, but not that others saw it. They thought their derisive humor hid their hearts... and... so often, I do the same... I tell jokes about what causes my heart the most ache. 


I've also read Till we have faces by CS Lewis (btw, did anyone else know he wrote fiction for adults?!)... and the dilemma with love... I have been feeling it so intensely lately. Do we love so that we are loved? Do we love so that we are known? Or do we love to give selflessly with the ability to be reviled, disobeyed, rejected and spurned... and still love?  


So... Imma add a disclaimer right here that this post is very difficult to write and very personal and yet, there is this burning within me to write it. 


It is very difficult to live in London far away from my family. If life was a scattergraph, I would be the dot in the center, and my family is clustered quite far from me... I feel so separate and lonely... as tho I would always be alone. As if no one owed me their love as family does... And so I am the anomaly on the scatter graph, and the line of best fit doesn't touch me or even come near. 

God, in his words to me, often says to love, love, love selflessly and often. And I feel awkward, not wanting to love and serve so that it isn't awkward (I always feel awkward... like a bit of Luna Lovegood lives in me), and yet, God says it will not be awkward because He's made me silly and whimsy and sturdy and a bit loud and a bit quiet and a bit of a mess and a bit particular and it all blends together into a squishy mess of Jenny love which blesses people (I hope). And 90-95% of my love is that I just see such awesomeness in people and my heart overflows to them... and 5-10% is that fear. The fear that if I need something, I need to build up good will with people so that when it's my turn, they will love me. You see, somewhere, tho my love is freely given, I insult others by assuming they will not so freely love. I assume I will have to earn it, and pay it back, and so sum up love into accounts, tho I am free enough with my own bank. 

That fear, that loneliness, tho I'm ashamed to say it, has revealed itself in the idea that if I had a bf or a husband, I would have a family... I would be ok, because someone would have to love me. 

It's so incredibly untrue and it's so selfish. I've known enough married people to know they have worries new and plenty, and life, tho some things become simpler, others become much more difficult. I know that we don't love so that we have security, emotional or otherwise... 

God whispers in my ear to leave my heart open so love may find me, to not have the attitude that I do not need man, but that, at the same time, I don't need man. I don't need him, yet the attitude of it is unbecoming... God is ever all I need, He provides all my security, emotional and otherwise, He fills me with the love I pour out, yet, my heart must be open to receive love as well as give it. 

And I am so bad at receiving love... I don't know what to do or say... It's like deep down inside me somewhere, I have believed the lie that I am unlovable... that I can expect friendliness, but not friendship, helpfulness, but not devotion, handshakes, but not embraces... I have to build up the good will... I have to serve, I have to give, I have to love, love, love... 

And I'm a mess... I don't love and offer and give because I think so highly of myself... No... 

Friday night, at Pentecost, I had a vision... I was a little girl in a pink dress, with pink bows and I stood on a great precipice. (Pink = my feminism (which, is something I'm also trying to learn)). All around me were cliffs and the sky was full of the presence of God in the dark hills... Jesus stood with me, and in my hand was a small communion candle. It was a tiny speck in the bleak darkness, the wind whipping around me and tugging at my skirts... yet I held my light up to Jesus, out to the presence of God in the holy dark. It was a speck, but I held it alight because I somehow felt I had to. It wasn't much, but I stood on my tip toes... my white shoes scratching on the rough rocks... the wind whipped at my candle, but it didn't go out... it stayed lit and at the horizon far off over the hills the first rays of a dawn were erupting from the darkness... not even the rays but the first glow when the sky begins to seem orange. 

There is never anyone else there... just Jesus and myself and the holy darkness... I'm not shining it for anyone but Jesus... yet somehow I have to keep shining it. Love is such a strange thing in that way... the idea that we're doing something for Jesus who is the source of our love, the motive for our love and who brims us over with love, and that we love the people around us, our friends and family because we see lovable things all over their lives. Love is this morphous thing of for us and in us and for them and in them and because of them and us and God... it never has one motive... it's messy and manic and even in the softest sigh of contentment with our beloved, we can feel 10,000 things before we've drawn breath again. 

So in all of this mess, my whole world has been changed... the idea of loving because He first love us... it's exploded, in a good way. The love He pours into me, it seems the entire impetus for all life and feeling, yet it is free, so it leaves space for fear and the question... will I be loved? It isn't only one way, but it's leaving space to receive... it's always pouring out, but always taking in as well... 

Colossians says "perfect love casts out fear"... and so I believe it does... but it leaves room so that it could exist, and then God fills it up with his love. 

Which brings me back to Beatrice... how she is so in me... this Beatrice, who seems so light hearted, and so full of love and feeling... so full of passion. She cannot believe that a man exists who could suit her... she sees  all that she offers, and she sees all her inadequacies... She sees what an utter mess she is, what a mess love is... She sees and she is afraid... so she loves Hero and blesses Leonato and her family, yet never lets there be any space for reciprocity. She thinks no one could love her, so she stops up the hole with jokes... Oh Beatrice, I have had your pride and your fear and your despair in my heart--God forgive me. I have laughed it off... but today I cannot. Today, I cried of the broken heart I've been trying to hide. Broken from the lies that have been building up there... the lies that I cannot and will never be loved. 

Oh that I would open my eyes and see the love that is already before me... I am already secure. I am already fiercely loved. I am furiously blessed. And I will practice leaving that space open in my heart to receive others with the same quiet, happy grace that I would have them receive my fumbling, silly offering... the tiny spark of candle in the holy dark. 

Careless with Myself

"You gotta be kind to yourself" She & Him 

I'm generally a careful person, but I'm also somewhat clumsy--I forget people's names, I bump into things and don't notice and get myself covered with bruises. I'm gracious but forgetful at times. So along those lines, about 5 weeks ago I got a pedicure and my feet felt AWESOME. They were a fabulous shade of orange and then I sort of forgot about them... for a month. So, the other day, I noticed that one of my toenails has split about halfway across my big toe and I have no idea how I've done this. I've stubbed my toes a fair few times on the uneven London pavement, and I haven't trimmed them, so I get holes in my socks, leaving my poor toes unprotected, but I never noticed any damage or felt any real pain...

I've been careless.

And I can't help but feel that this is how we sometimes go through life. We spend money or time or both, on ourself--sorting some problem, looking after ourself, but then, in our glory, we forget or get busy and things happen and we're careless and then, before you know it, body parts start to crack or go missing...

Maybe not.

But we probably need to take time out to tend to ourselves more than once a month (or less).

My housemate and her friend recently were talking about these courses where people learn team building and communication. One woman on the course remarked

"I have a deep respect for religious people because whether you call it prayer or meditation or reflection, they take time out to do this regularly and really tend to themselves. I never want to think about my emotions. I just get on with it." 

In a world where your therapist might know more about you than your housemate, facebook chat, and "virtual" events which happen online turn into real memories, people seem to be connected superficially to everyone--even themselves.

Especially in work environments, it's easy to look down on anyone who's finding something difficult. The attitude is that you should be able to cope, or you'll be replaced or put on a training course. But, there really isn't a training course for life or with dealing with your own emotions... you just have to "get on with it"... and so a lot of people do, ignoring some of the deepest parts of themselves.

A lot of studies show that people aren't even as close with their own families and tend to move away, or not have people to talk issues over with or work things out with. (Ah, I usually have links to studies, but alas, I can't find the NYTimes/Guardian articles).  Loneliness is rampant... and I wonder, how many of us are walking around with damaged toenails, or worse, damaged hearts and souls?

Christian writer, Donald Miller, in his book Searching for God Knows What, comments that after the fall, we humans are like the children of Chernobyl, we grew up deformed and in excruciating pain, but we don't know anything else. We don't know what we could be, we just see glimpses here and there of perfection.

While we're here, I do want to distinguish some things from the concept of "caring" for yourself. Spending money on yourself is not necessarily caring for yourself. Thinking about yourself a lot is not necessarily caring for yourself. Having good self esteem is not necessarily caring for yourself. Doing popular things or being popular is not necessarily caring for yourself.

I've been getting the feeling lately that things that are beautiful have been mistaken for things that are true, and that things that are popular are being mistaken for things that are right. And yet, there is a huge difference between what is favored by the most people and what is good for the most people, and even utilitarianism has its boundaries of usefulness and justice.

In a world that seems nonstop, I tend to always feel like I'm missing out... either on my reading and writing, or on meeting up with friends, or speaking to my family... on going to the gym or going for long runs or enjoying a cup of coffee (instead of downing one for the caffeine). Taking time for one thing inevitably feels like losing time on a score of other things. It's just no way to live--always feeling frantic and rushed and like I should be doing more and managing more and go, go going.

So in conventional 90s wisdom, I would like to be the roadrunner and not Wile Coyote... moving with grace, purpose and agility to a specific destination, and not struggling with poorly laid plans that leave me with an anvil or piano on my head, or falling off a cliff.

-ist... the most dangerous suffix

Once upon a time in a land much less judgemental than ours, people had experiences and lived their lives and probably didn't think so much about their identities because they were living.

People thought about themselves in terms of stories and "things that had happened" and not identities and "things that they were" or "groups they belonged to."

I'm not sure exactly when this started changing, but methinks sometime around the end of the Victorian era. Oscar Wilde, an amazing Irish writer in the 1800s, was accused of sodomy and sentenced to two years in prison. Notice... he was not arrested for BEING homosexual or BEING a sodomite. He was arrested for doing something.

More and more I feel like people I meet are becoming very concerned, to the point of almost being obsessed, about their identities. Who they are. Who others believe them to be. Who they project themselves as. I hear it in the news... someone makes a comment and then they are "identified" as a feminist, a sexist, a racist, a misogynist, an ageist... Sure there are other suffixes to use... we have --er: murderer, gamer, hipster, etc. Please never call me a hipster... :P

Some of these names elicit admission into some sort of private or anointed group--artists, per se. Some are incredibly offensive and damning... hypocrite, bigot, feminist (depending on whom one speaks to).

But not only am I experiencing people calling others names--people also feel the need to reject someone's identity as something. If I make a comment, even a public comment about women's rights, it might not mean I am a feminist... so if someone then rejects my identity as feminist, implying I'm not doing enough, being enough, to actually join this club, that perhaps I didn't even consider myself applying for. (feminism will probably be another post, but for the record, I would consider myself a feminist regardless of whether you consider me one).

So, I ask, what gives us the right to judge people so harshly, so frequently, and many times, so hastily?

John 8: 7-11
"'Let anyone who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her,".... When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders.... 'Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?.... Nor do I condemn you. Go your way and from now on do not sin." 

So often, I've found myself in the seat of the accuser, and so often as I read the gospel, the accuser is the name of Satan, the accuser is the one opposed to grace, the accuser is the one Jesus is pitted against, refusing justice and mercy often over pittances.

I also can't help but notice that the elders begin leaving first--people who have lived, who are meant to be wise who can feel deep down how sinful we are and how many times we've messed up.

I've been reading many articles lately on the lack of (especially male) role models. Men seem to be in the line of fire, as statistics of single mother or 2 mother families rise, people become skeptical about these family arrangements, make very bold statements, and there almost seems to be this overwhelming silence of everyone wondering when the men are going to shape up and step up and be role models and stay with their children and wives. People think back to when divorce statistics weren't so high and think we've somehow gone wrong. We probably have gone wrong somewhere... but I also think that families have been messed up for ages and some women have wanted to have 2 mother households for a while and never felt free to, and more things were covered up and abuse was hidden or ignored.

News travels faster now than it ever did and on a much wider scale. Video and voice recording in every cell phone means that anything can be recorded and the horrible things we say and think and do when we aren't thinking "shows our ass in public." People seem to be unwilling to forgive "role models", especially men, who've made mistakes in their personal lives, but don't we learn how to live by making mistakes? I'm not trying to advocate any of these mistakes, but I just feel that if you look deep enough into anyone's history, you find things that people aren't and probably shouldn't be proud of. The question is, do those things eradicate any good we've ever done or could ever do? Some people act like the answer to that question is yes, and I would say to those people that perhaps they aren't being honest with themselves.

Society is seeing a lot of hardship right now, especially in more "alternative" families, in more independence and struggle, in the supposed "class wars." I see a lot of people who could be classed as victims of circumstance, of apathy, of abuse, of the times. But I also see victims of the past being set free. People aren't staying in abusive relationships. People are learning to be there for their children, provide for them, communicate and get the healing they need. There are a lot of people injured by relationships and striking out alone and some people think this is recent, when really, we've just been living alone in families for centuries...  when the truth is that we've just never been really good at loving each other the way we each need and want to be loved.

Plato once said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a difficult battle" 

And I really think this is true--whether we deal with issues through harsh nonchalance or binge drinking, life is hard. But I think somehow we've started making it harder for each other and for ourselves in linking everything to our identity.

You see, if I like baseball and my best friend doesn't, then we just find something else to do together. But if I'm a baseballer and she isn't or she hates baseballers, then she's rejecting me. She isn't accepting me for who I am. She's against me. So how can I be her friend?

Jesus had dinner with everyone who invited him in... Pharisees, Tax Collectors, sinners, prostitutes, the demon-possessed (Mary Magdalene)... He also healed everyone who asked and many people who didn't ask... people he bumped into, people he met crossing the street, people waiting by wells... To put it frankly, if you were willing to own that you'd messed up, Jesus was ok with you. It was only when you were an adamant asshole that he got fed up with you.

How many times am I that adamant asshole? I am trying to be humbler in my opinions... I'm working on accepting others views and opinions and pondering their perspective before pouncing. I'm getting better at letting there be silence... sometimes opinions don't need to be given. I'm trying to grow whatever wisdom God's given me, and more than anything, I'm trying to find my identity in Him, and not through different groups and names and ideas that this world has invented. I don't want to be so many -ists and -ites and -ers and -ans... I just want to be His and (probably through making many mistakes) serve Him better.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." - T.S. Elliot

The Camel and The Needle

"'There is still one thing lacking. Sell all you own and distribute the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.' But when he heard this, he became sad; for he was very rich. Jesus looked at him and said, 'How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter...'" Luke 18: 22-25 

There is no doubt. Times are hard right now. The rich keep getting richer, the poor, poorer. The debating goes on, but markets seem to keep falling, inflation rising, gaps growing, and everyone seems to be angry about it. I'm definitely not excluded from the angry. A few weeks ago, a friend posted an article about why gas prices in America are staying high and I commented "sometimes I feel like if I ever meet anyone who actually works in finance, I'll punch them in the face."


ME... passive Jenny... kitten... I said that I would PUNCH someone... someone I didn't even know...

Yikes!

I know on the grand scale of people in the world, I have quite a lot... I can pay my rent and bills, I have clothes in good repair (and quasi-fashionable ;)). I get to go on vacation to see my family twice a year and maybe a few other places. I'm quite lucky really.

But when I look at the wealth I have, it's in my education and my "library". (Geek alert). I read the story above and I pondered whether I would be able to give up, if I could sell everything I owned... It wouldn't be so much, really. Some clothes, some shoes, some books...

Usually women get more and more fashionable as they grow up, but I didn't feel so bad about selling my clothes... It was the books. That's where my memories are. That's where my treasure lies.

But, surely, you say, you could get kindle editions, or read the books from libraries?

Poppycock!

The thing about my books is that I have hand-written notes in them, and often date when I get a book. Some books have been so well loved they have notes from various years and readings all over them and I know I can take notes on Kindle, but... I wouldn't HAVE my old notes.

Somehow, I want to carry the weight of my knowledge, quite literally, around with me from place to place. It doesn't seem right to only have a digital library. Even when I read books on my touchpad, if I enjoy them, I buy a physical copy... same with music. I'll buy a CD so I can have the cover art and the album case, and have something to stack and stare at for all eternity.

This is the thing I can't sell because it's like this physical reminder of where my Achilles heel is... my pride is in my education. You might have heard me talk about this in the last few blog posts... I don't want to go on and on about it... but I don't want to pretend I'm over it or it has suddenly gone away. I don't actually think I have loads to boast about either... it's just something I focus on... something I'm proud of in myself. The point of me that feeds my narcissism.

I was reading an interesting article on fb (ironically) today about loneliness and it mentioned the growing narcissism and the growing loneliness of the Gen Y, etc generations...

It mentions that people post their best bits on facebook... they show themselves a certain way. This is definitely the case, but in general, I throw my weirdness out there in fits of giggles... There are other ways I express my narcissism on the internet... such as my goodreads account and how many books I've reviewed or read in comparison to others. How often my reviews are read or liked or commented on, which, granted, isn't very much... It's so sad. The whole point comes back to comparing... always comparing, always looking for what's popular, as if that will make it good and right. Always searching for novelty to the point where everything is labored and nothing seems sacred. We have purists and mashers hashing it out for popularity... But as Francis Chan lovingly writes: “Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter.” 


How many things? My head explodes with the number... with how many useless sojourns I've taken, how many dead proficiencies I've earned. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling like these soulless things have influence over me. I'm tired of being bored or too easily entertained. I want to be devoted to the things that matter, and I know, deep down, that those things are people--not money or books or clothes or useless talents. 

Lent Reflections: Community and Individuality

"Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters." Matthew 12: 30

A few years ago at college, the careers advisors make you take this test... the Meyer's Briggs test, and it sorts out your personality and suits you for different professions. It gives you a run down of how introverted or extroverted you are, whether you Think or Perceive, etc. It places people into boxes of personalities. Some personalities are more common than others, but all of these personality traits exist on a sliding scale... Someone might be more extroverted or introverted or more of a thinker or less of a perceiver than me.

This can make life very confusing because as I got my results back many of my sliding scales were tantalizingly close to the middle... #useless.

I had flashbacks to 9th grade where the guidance counsellors gave us "tests" to determine what kind of learners we were. There were 5 kinds of learners at the time (these tests are always changing and developing) and with complete unhelpfulness, I scored high on all of them. Apparently I can learn in any way, but of course, I learn better in some ways than in others.

And so it is with life and working together and building communities and teams and families and working groups.

For a few weeks I've been feeling quite down on myself, always feeling inferior to others, and, hence, that I won't be liked, approved of, or befriended. It's probably nonsense, and I don't tell you about this to gain pity or sympathy, but to explain the interesting journey I've been on.

You see, as I feel like others will not be happy with me, I've moved away from people, isolating myself. I haven't even consciously done it, it was all quite innocent, until I realised I was waiting days to respond to people's texts and spending far too much time choosing something to wear, only to pull on something scrubby, convinced that I'd be dismissed and ignored no matter how I looked.

I took myself out of the community for reasons completely unfounded and imaginary...

Like God often does when He's refining us, He's been telling me some truths about myself, healing my heart, and washing me... But something I've been discerning the past few months is the verse above: "Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters." Jesus didn't really care about teams or clubs, He cared about the heart. He cared about motivations and your secret treasure, the things you long for and care about which no one knows. The power of God comes from our hearts, not our skills or virtues.

Often, I see people get caught up in "the way they do things" or "they're style", which is all well and good, a great design can go a long way. But design can't replace a good heart. There isn't one way to do anything, and if we think there is, we're incredibly limiting ourselves. I used to be like this. Things had to be a certain way, or it wasn't ok... it just wasn't.

My housemate has been an incredible cause of joy the past few months. She's vibrant and at the same time can be incredibly smooth and subtle and careless and willy-nilly. We've become baking friends and I've never once seen her use a recipe. She just tosses things in the bowl and they turn out delicious. Method, methinks, is not her forte. But it doesn't seem to matter! And I'm trying desperately to learn this, not because I judge people and think they are worse than me, but quite the opposite--because I'm convinced that I'll never do anything so well as other people, and so I hide from them.

Yes, I smile and I show up, but a lot of the time, it's a facade and some of the real Jenny mixed in for authenticity. I feel a tiredness when I see people because I have to keep the face on. I have to love them and be there for them. I can't let them love me. I can't show any weaknesses. I can't be vulnerable. I can't show them who I really am because I am convinced, down in the heart of my hearts, that they wouldn't like me.

When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you. ~ Lao Tzu

I have a bookmark with this quote on it that I've had since high school. For a long time, I felt like having a haughty indifference was the answer to this... but I was so wrong.

Then, a few years later, in college, I thought if I was smarter than everyone, it would be the answer... but I was still wrong. I remember thinking of certain students as so clever and inspiring and how I would never be like that. One day, I was talking to someone and she mentioned how I was one of the "cool English majors"... was I? And for a moment I was overjoyed at how amazing it seemed that I'd been given membership into this great status club, and the second I just realized how horrible it sounded that there were "cool" and then of course "not cool" English majors...

I didn't want to be an elite... I wanted community, where everyone could bring their ideas to the table and hash them out... it's the hashing out of it that's fun.

I've been writing and editing some manuscripts I'm working on and every so often this deep pit of artistic funk creeps over me. I'm convinced that nothing I write will ever be inspiring or witty or truthful or meaningful... ever. So what's the point?

But the more I pray, the more God tries to convince me: "You don't need a masters degree or an MFA. You don't need the praise of others. You just need to WRITE and LOVE."

Because deep down, I want admiration and praise, more than just the satisfaction of my art, my community... I want praise. Something deep down wants to be better, smarter, faster, tougher... and the rest of me just wants to be loved. So I throw the mess of myself down at the feet of Jesus and He smiles benevolently, pats my head, and says: "REST. I am with you. Rest truly, and WRITE and LOVE. I will take care of the rest."

So here I am, a ball of mess, trying to be myself, trying to love my various communities, trying to let myself open up, and trying to rest. Oh how much striving have I undertaken under the delusion that nothing I do will succeed!

So here I am, still at His feet, unravelling the mess of my mind and my heart this Lenten season, and I hope my journey will also do you some good.