I have a confession to make. Sometimes, I hate this blog.
Not all the time, though. Usually, we get along just fine. Sometimes, though, like tonight.. I don't have anything that I feel super passionate about to blog on. Sometimes, like tonight, I forget to blog at all. Those two reasons are why the blog is late half the time.. my goal is to publish every Saturday and Wednesday. And I feel like I've failed to some degree if I don't get them done by those days, even if there's a good reason. Which makes me dislike it more.
I feel like I'm bound to this blog, as a prisoner is chained to the next man in line. I can't get away from it. Sometimes, it's good to have the help and conversation the person beside you can give, but when you see that person every day, sometimes enough is enough.
Many of you don't even know why this blog originated. I thought that you might be interested in that story, since I'm more than three months into this journey of writing. I also figure you're probably wondering why I still write it if I'm not loving it all the time anymore.. I plan to explain that, too.
I was in Bible School last year. Our final assignment was a project that incorporated a goodly percentage of all that we'd learned through the year, especially the information imbued upon us in a class called Research Methods.
For my final assignment, I wrote a story, called Forgiving Jack. It's a short story, written about an uncle's perspective on the effects on his young nephew of his parents' divorce. Our project was marked by the dean of the school and one of the church's pastors. Both judges gave each presentor a mark based on how well they implemented their gained knowledge into the project (projects ranged from a painting, to my story, to mock leadership retreats, to Bible studies, to essays), as well as creativity and content; they also offered ciriticism and praise to each presentor after they'd been up.
I had printed out copies and distributed them previous to the class I was scheduled, and asked them to read it and think about some discussion questions I had written out. During my presentation, which I formatted after a high school English short story discussion class, we talked about the questions and my own experiences with divorce, as well as advice given and received, and conversations I'd with others. After I was finished, the pastor (who usually went first) turned to the dean and said, "I'm gonna hand this one over to Trudy," and proceeded to say nothing else. Trudy, rather caught on the spot, said some things about how mine was a little harder to mark because of its being a narrative, and how it was obvious that I had learned something but how it's hard to incorporate that into a story, but she liked it, etc. Similar comments to what the others had received for their projects.
So I thought I wouldn't get any comments from Pastor Ed, but after Trudy was finished, he turns to me and starts talking. I don't recall all that he said, but I remember him asking, "Do you enjoy writing?" To which I replied, "I feel like I was born to write." Which isn't exactly true, but what is true is that I do enjoy writing more than any other form of communication save direct conversation, and that I do think I'm decent at it. He said he thinks I write well, and the conversation ended with him telling me, "This is what I think you should do. Start a website, and put your story on it. Get it out there, because I think there's power in this to heal people." He told me to go talk to the church's staff counselor and see what she thought and if she had any ideas.
Enter a momentary break in my thoughts here. That scared the crap out of me. I didn't say anything, but I was like, no, absolutely not, I didn't write this for the public, I wrote this for this class. I don't want people asking me for advice. I'm not doing it. And I didn't. After that class ended, I kept on with my life, getting ready to finish the school year and prepare for a trip to Africa. But it didn't leave my mind.
I thought about it all summer, and didn't do anything till about halfway through. Then, I finally made an appointment with the counselor, Linda. She wasn't really sure what to tell me, but we talked and I told her what Pastor Ed said, and she gave me some ideas. One of which was to blog. Again, I walked away from that and did nothing right away... but it 'percolated', ideas slowly dripping into my brain as coffee does into the pot.
One day, I was supposed to go see a movie with my brother.. and he ended up sick that night and I ended up going alone to a different movie. Afterward, the emotions I felt and the things I was thinking provided the last push I needed, and when I got home, I finally decided to start this blog.
So there you have it. Originally, this blog was going to be me sharing my stories and my experiences through divorce and how I've handled it and healed past hurts. It turned into me blogging about all of life.
As I've said, sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I forget about it. I can't really decide if I like having what is basically a public journal, more or less. But I haven't quit.
I haven't quit for two reasons. Firstly, because I miss writing. This is good practice. This keeps me accountable to produce something on a regular basis. It's keeping me in literary shape, so to speak. It's a challenge - to try to get my ideas across, to explain them in a way many people will understand. Sometimes, just to have an idea at all.
The second reason is this. Perhaps this is bigger than me. Perhaps, in my weeks of avoiding this, I didn't forget about it for a reason. Maybe I was meant to write that story, to get those people to tell me to do things I wasn't into doing when they told me, to start this for something I'm not aware of. Or maybe I am. How am I to know? The thought that keeps me going more often than not is that maybe, this blog will change someone's life.
In turn, your comments mean the world to me. They keep me motivated, and help me to know whether I'm on track with what I think about the world and life. All of my Onions fans are so awesome, and it's such a blessing to know I have more than one regular reader. You guys are so encouraging. Thank you.
So my challenge to you today is to keep on. Live your life the best you know how. Accept challenges, new perspectives, and other ideas. Learn from those who know more, and share what you know with others. Because maybe, just as I might be changing lives without knowing it, so too may you be.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Centuries of Fire
This year, my family installed a new wood stove to aid in heating our house. It's grand. Fantastic. Beautiful. Most importantly, it's VERY VERY VERY WARM!
Last night, I was sitting in front of said wood stove, enjoying the fire, and texting my friend. Turns out he was participating in a similarily warm and cozy activity, but with a rocking chair instead of the floor :P
It seemed rather... ironic doesn't feel right, but that's the closest I can come up with.. that we could be doing the same thing miles away from each other (he's in Alberta), but we're looking at the same thing, feeling the same heat, seeing the same colors, and so on and so forth.
Which got me thinking. I'm currently reading Les Miserables (by Victor Hugo), which is set during the years after the French revolution and tumultuous periods of government proceeding and succeeding it. In that book, there's a bit about a house some of the characters live in (Thernardiers), and how they are dirt poor, but because the room they rent has a fireplace, it goes for forty francs a year, even though it's dirt floors and broken walls. The emphasis is placed on the possession of fire.
Fire has, since the day it was discovered, represented many things to mankind. On the one hand, it is warmth, strength, family, love, safety, protection - but on the other, it is a destroyer, a danger, something to be feared. As my text to my friend said, "How it has built us up, then destroyed us.. how it allows us to live, and then kills us."
These, then, were the foremost of my fiery thoughts. However, as time and conversation progressed, and I again thought about how my friend and I were in the same position with huge distance between us, I thought about all the other people who have also, like me, sat and stared at a fire.
People like Queen Elizabeth. Robespierre. David Thompson. Caesar Augustus. William Shakespeare. Jesus Christ.
A hundred thousand faces from history flee through the mind in seconds. Also, the millions who forever shall remain nameless to us... the victims of the Irish potato famine. London's child workers. African families. Even the Okanagan's firestorm several years ago.
Millions of people, through thousands of years, all connected in a strangely tangled web of experience united by something common and familiar - flame. High and low, white and black, rich and poor, every single person on this earth knows fire and has experienced it in some way.
So as I was sitting there thinking about this, a new thought struck. What were they thinking about as they sat in the same place I am now?
I can't tell for sure, but I can certainly guess. Maybe David Thompson was thinking about home, his family, and getting back there safely as he shivered in the snow of the American North, inching closer to the flames to keep warm. Maybe Queen Elizabeth was staring at the fire, drinking a glass of wine and doing her best to weigh the options for dealing with her errant and troublesome cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots. The children of Africa gaze at the flames and wish they had something to cook upon them. Jesus peered at the crackling logs and prayed for the sacrifice he was called to give, and the race he was giving it for.
And I bet every one of those people thought about the past, present, and future as they sat. I think about whether my children will have gas or electric heating or something entirely new and yet uninvented when they're adults. I think about whether fire will ever be used to heat the home as time goes on. I think about whether they will think about their ancestors and all the struggles hundreds of generations have had to overcome to be at the place we are now.
And I think about my own ancestors. Whether they ever sat by the fire and thought about me, even though they didn't know my name, or who I would be, or what I would do. I wonder if they ever prayed for their children's children and future generations. I wonder what each generation sacrificed in turn, so the next would be happier and healthier; so their children would be able to live longer and better lives.
I am curious as to whether they would be happy with how I am living my life. If they were able to look at see how I am handling my own situation, how I treat people, how I steward the earth I live on. I wonder if they would ever see the things I get upset and complain about, and say, "Look, though - this is what I did for you. I sailed across the ocean so you would have opportunity. I built this house with my own hands so you would have somewhere to live. I killed a man so you could live freely."
This is what fire has inspired in me. This is what I've been thinking about. All of the people who have stared into flames before me, and all of those who will after I die. How much they've sacrificed, how far they came, so that I could have a better life.
I think I owe it to them to live my life as they did. To be thankful for what I have, and to always try to do better. To take opportunity, to educate myself, to change the world.
If they hadn't done it, there's no telling where we'd be today. If I, and others in this generation, don't take a stand, where will we be tomorrow? Only the fire will know.
Last night, I was sitting in front of said wood stove, enjoying the fire, and texting my friend. Turns out he was participating in a similarily warm and cozy activity, but with a rocking chair instead of the floor :P
It seemed rather... ironic doesn't feel right, but that's the closest I can come up with.. that we could be doing the same thing miles away from each other (he's in Alberta), but we're looking at the same thing, feeling the same heat, seeing the same colors, and so on and so forth.
Which got me thinking. I'm currently reading Les Miserables (by Victor Hugo), which is set during the years after the French revolution and tumultuous periods of government proceeding and succeeding it. In that book, there's a bit about a house some of the characters live in (Thernardiers), and how they are dirt poor, but because the room they rent has a fireplace, it goes for forty francs a year, even though it's dirt floors and broken walls. The emphasis is placed on the possession of fire.
Fire has, since the day it was discovered, represented many things to mankind. On the one hand, it is warmth, strength, family, love, safety, protection - but on the other, it is a destroyer, a danger, something to be feared. As my text to my friend said, "How it has built us up, then destroyed us.. how it allows us to live, and then kills us."
These, then, were the foremost of my fiery thoughts. However, as time and conversation progressed, and I again thought about how my friend and I were in the same position with huge distance between us, I thought about all the other people who have also, like me, sat and stared at a fire.
People like Queen Elizabeth. Robespierre. David Thompson. Caesar Augustus. William Shakespeare. Jesus Christ.
A hundred thousand faces from history flee through the mind in seconds. Also, the millions who forever shall remain nameless to us... the victims of the Irish potato famine. London's child workers. African families. Even the Okanagan's firestorm several years ago.
Millions of people, through thousands of years, all connected in a strangely tangled web of experience united by something common and familiar - flame. High and low, white and black, rich and poor, every single person on this earth knows fire and has experienced it in some way.
So as I was sitting there thinking about this, a new thought struck. What were they thinking about as they sat in the same place I am now?
I can't tell for sure, but I can certainly guess. Maybe David Thompson was thinking about home, his family, and getting back there safely as he shivered in the snow of the American North, inching closer to the flames to keep warm. Maybe Queen Elizabeth was staring at the fire, drinking a glass of wine and doing her best to weigh the options for dealing with her errant and troublesome cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots. The children of Africa gaze at the flames and wish they had something to cook upon them. Jesus peered at the crackling logs and prayed for the sacrifice he was called to give, and the race he was giving it for.
And I bet every one of those people thought about the past, present, and future as they sat. I think about whether my children will have gas or electric heating or something entirely new and yet uninvented when they're adults. I think about whether fire will ever be used to heat the home as time goes on. I think about whether they will think about their ancestors and all the struggles hundreds of generations have had to overcome to be at the place we are now.
And I think about my own ancestors. Whether they ever sat by the fire and thought about me, even though they didn't know my name, or who I would be, or what I would do. I wonder if they ever prayed for their children's children and future generations. I wonder what each generation sacrificed in turn, so the next would be happier and healthier; so their children would be able to live longer and better lives.
I am curious as to whether they would be happy with how I am living my life. If they were able to look at see how I am handling my own situation, how I treat people, how I steward the earth I live on. I wonder if they would ever see the things I get upset and complain about, and say, "Look, though - this is what I did for you. I sailed across the ocean so you would have opportunity. I built this house with my own hands so you would have somewhere to live. I killed a man so you could live freely."
This is what fire has inspired in me. This is what I've been thinking about. All of the people who have stared into flames before me, and all of those who will after I die. How much they've sacrificed, how far they came, so that I could have a better life.
I think I owe it to them to live my life as they did. To be thankful for what I have, and to always try to do better. To take opportunity, to educate myself, to change the world.
If they hadn't done it, there's no telling where we'd be today. If I, and others in this generation, don't take a stand, where will we be tomorrow? Only the fire will know.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Verbs Mean Actions.
I'm subscribed to the "Thriving Family" magazine from Focus on the Family Canada. I think it's the most beneficial thing I've ever signed up for.. I don't even remember how I ended up getting it, but I've been getting Focus on the Family Magazines and I think they ended the one issue and started the second.
Regardless, Thriving Family is chock full of funny stories, parenting advice and ideas, marriage articles, and everything else you'd expect to find in a family-oriented magazine - and it's good. Highly recommended. To anyone.
It's a bimonthly issue, and I received the Nov/Dec issue last week. I was busy though, so I just read it today. It's the Christmassy issue, full of ideas for helping to teach your kids about giving and sharing, and incorporating Christ into your Christmas traditions.
There's an article on staying in love after the honeymoon stage of marriage.. and although it's meant for couples, it's so good for everyone that I thought I would share some of it here. I quote directly.
Make Love A Verb
For many of us, the concept of love is difficult because we never learned the right form of love. We focus on the external qualities of love and ignore the internal. We treat love like a noun. It's an experience that happened. A moment. A thing.
But in John 13:34, we see a different side of love. John says, simply and honestly, "Love one another." It is not a one-time event. It is not a fireworks feeling or a field of flowers. It's an action. A verb. It's not just about choosing the right person; it's about becoming the right person, the type of person who loves the way Christ loved us.
Pay Attention To Your Heart
Imagine you are a mug with thousands of tiny beads inside. Each bead represents a negative feeling or painful experience or unfulfilled expectation. You are careful to keep them inside. Then you meet someone and think she just might be the future Mrs. Mug. So, you are gentle and thoughtful around her. You make certain that as few beads as possible spill out on the road to the alter.
But a month or a year later, suddenly there's an issue. She gets upset for no apparent reason; or you don't call, though you said you would; or she feels ignored. Your mugs bump into each other, jostling your beads. Jealousy spills out. Anger overflows. All the stuff that was hidden during the courtship is on display.
This is the type of situation the Bible anticipates when it implores us to guard our hearts. When your emotional 'beads' get bumped, stop and think about what you are feeling before you speak. Name what you are feeling with specific words: "I feel jealous" or "I feel angry," When you name your feelings, they lose their power. If appropriate, tell your spouse what's going on in your heart. Healthy people stop doing hutful things when they learn what the issues are. And they stay in love by paying attention to their hearts.
-
There's more, but it deals more specifically with marriage. The article ends, however, with a poignant phrase:
"It is possible to stay in love, but it does take more than fireworks and moonlit beaches. Falling in love only requires a pulse. Staying in love? That requires a plan."
I think it's fairly clear how this can be applied in one's life, married or not. Granted, marriage requires a lot of work... but that doesn't mean other relationships are cake walks. If you focus on acting in love instead of feeling in love, your relationships are bound to strengthen.
Feelings are futile. They are great indicators, but nothing more. They can be overcome by willpower. It happens every day... everyone gets up to go to work, or to school, and ignores the feelings of irritability and tiredness. We don't hit people we're angry at. People have more self control - they rule feelings. As it said in the article, acknowledging feelings and taking control diminishes their power over us.
Actions, however, are physical. It takes more effort to smile and greet someone you dislike than it does to just stifle the feeling and move on. A plan shows effort.
I don't think I could say it any better than the article author does, although I just tried and pretty much failed. But that doesn't matter - I think you get the picture, rambling aside.
I've heard often that love is a more than a feeling, and you probably have too - but it's good to be reminded. And I don't think you could be reminded any better than the way those two points explain things.
So. Show it on the outside; wear it on your sleeve. How will you act out your love this week?
Regardless, Thriving Family is chock full of funny stories, parenting advice and ideas, marriage articles, and everything else you'd expect to find in a family-oriented magazine - and it's good. Highly recommended. To anyone.
It's a bimonthly issue, and I received the Nov/Dec issue last week. I was busy though, so I just read it today. It's the Christmassy issue, full of ideas for helping to teach your kids about giving and sharing, and incorporating Christ into your Christmas traditions.
There's an article on staying in love after the honeymoon stage of marriage.. and although it's meant for couples, it's so good for everyone that I thought I would share some of it here. I quote directly.
Make Love A Verb
For many of us, the concept of love is difficult because we never learned the right form of love. We focus on the external qualities of love and ignore the internal. We treat love like a noun. It's an experience that happened. A moment. A thing.
But in John 13:34, we see a different side of love. John says, simply and honestly, "Love one another." It is not a one-time event. It is not a fireworks feeling or a field of flowers. It's an action. A verb. It's not just about choosing the right person; it's about becoming the right person, the type of person who loves the way Christ loved us.
Pay Attention To Your Heart
Imagine you are a mug with thousands of tiny beads inside. Each bead represents a negative feeling or painful experience or unfulfilled expectation. You are careful to keep them inside. Then you meet someone and think she just might be the future Mrs. Mug. So, you are gentle and thoughtful around her. You make certain that as few beads as possible spill out on the road to the alter.
But a month or a year later, suddenly there's an issue. She gets upset for no apparent reason; or you don't call, though you said you would; or she feels ignored. Your mugs bump into each other, jostling your beads. Jealousy spills out. Anger overflows. All the stuff that was hidden during the courtship is on display.
This is the type of situation the Bible anticipates when it implores us to guard our hearts. When your emotional 'beads' get bumped, stop and think about what you are feeling before you speak. Name what you are feeling with specific words: "I feel jealous" or "I feel angry," When you name your feelings, they lose their power. If appropriate, tell your spouse what's going on in your heart. Healthy people stop doing hutful things when they learn what the issues are. And they stay in love by paying attention to their hearts.
-
There's more, but it deals more specifically with marriage. The article ends, however, with a poignant phrase:
"It is possible to stay in love, but it does take more than fireworks and moonlit beaches. Falling in love only requires a pulse. Staying in love? That requires a plan."
I think it's fairly clear how this can be applied in one's life, married or not. Granted, marriage requires a lot of work... but that doesn't mean other relationships are cake walks. If you focus on acting in love instead of feeling in love, your relationships are bound to strengthen.
Feelings are futile. They are great indicators, but nothing more. They can be overcome by willpower. It happens every day... everyone gets up to go to work, or to school, and ignores the feelings of irritability and tiredness. We don't hit people we're angry at. People have more self control - they rule feelings. As it said in the article, acknowledging feelings and taking control diminishes their power over us.
Actions, however, are physical. It takes more effort to smile and greet someone you dislike than it does to just stifle the feeling and move on. A plan shows effort.
I don't think I could say it any better than the article author does, although I just tried and pretty much failed. But that doesn't matter - I think you get the picture, rambling aside.
I've heard often that love is a more than a feeling, and you probably have too - but it's good to be reminded. And I don't think you could be reminded any better than the way those two points explain things.
So. Show it on the outside; wear it on your sleeve. How will you act out your love this week?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
"Do You See It?" "See What?" "A Sparkle."
My mother says my eyes sparkle when I'm happy. She also says it's easy to tell when I'm not happy because the sparkle is gone. I don't know if that's true or if it's just her perspective, but I suspect it is because other people have made similar comments.
For instance, one time in Bible School last year, I walked into class tired and grumpy. I didn't really do anything different, I just said good morning to everyone (with a little less enthusiam than normally), and sat down to listen to my iPod. It wasn't that I never did that... just not often, but it wasn't super abnormal. At least not to me. However, to the two boys in the back row, something wasn't aright. The younger one looked at me and said, "What's wrong?" I, of course, said, "Nothing." He came right back with, "Something's up. You're not happy. Where's your joy?"
That hit me hard. It wasn't just a 'where's your God-given good attitude' kind of question.. he was wondering what happened to dampen me, to out my light, as it were. It hit me because there wasn't really a reason.. I was just all harumphed. [Please, don't try to figure that out. There isn't a good explanation.]
I realized that there was a significant lack of reasons for being in the attitude I was in... my classmate showed me, in the span of one sentence, that attitude is everything and that I have control over it. The question to me wasn't so much about where the joy was - I knew it still resided within me. It was more about why I was choosing not to show it and to let my bad, but largely unbased, mood rule my morning.
It didn't seem natural that people should so easily read me. However, as I've learned to pay more attention, I'm finding it's not nearly as weird... or as hard... as it would at first seem. One of my best friends is a good example.. and don't be creeped out, I don't stalk him. I just spend a lot of time with him. :) Anyways, when said friend is happy, the skin on his face shines with an almost pinkish glow, and his eyes are clear. However, when angry, it's as if someone took some smoke, or something similar, and rubbed it in (if that was possible).. you may have heard the expression "clouded over"? Well, I've seen it live. His face clouds over. The skin gets pale and darker, and looks almost pasty, similar to the consistancy of cookie dough. His eyes dull and get a red tinge as if he was tired. It's crazy. I can always tell when he's in less than a good mood by his face... even if I don't know exactly why. I suppose it's similar with my own person.
It used to bother me - a lot - that people could read my moods so easily. It's hard to fake being happy when you're upset, or vice versa, or whatever you want, really, when people can tell how you're feeling by your body or the way you carry yourself.
However, ever since I started my job, I've realized that this is not something to be annoyed by. Better than that, my mood, and however my body chooses to communicate it - whether by starry eyes or uplifted step - is a tool. It's a tool to teach and encourage others to be happier themselves.
You see, if people can tell that I'm happy, natural law says they should in turn be happier, even if it's only a little. Think about it. If you see someone laughing and enjoying themselves, you smile a little more inside, even if you're having a horrible day. Because joy creates joy, and it's natural to feel a little better when you see someone else having a great time.
So, whatever if my eyes sparkle. If that proves that I'm happy, bring it on. They'd better be sparkling, because if they aren't, I'm not having a good time and enjoying my life. And I don't want that. I'd rather be happy, eyes sparkling or not, I don't care. But since they apparently do, I'll embrace it. And I'll sparkle my way into others' hearts and lives, throwing out sparkly eye pixie dust and hopefully making their eyes a little more sparkly too.
What about you? What would you rather communicate with your body? It's not hard to tell whether most people are happy or not... what do you want them to see? More importantly, what do you want to feel?
Think about it. Do you sparkle?
For instance, one time in Bible School last year, I walked into class tired and grumpy. I didn't really do anything different, I just said good morning to everyone (with a little less enthusiam than normally), and sat down to listen to my iPod. It wasn't that I never did that... just not often, but it wasn't super abnormal. At least not to me. However, to the two boys in the back row, something wasn't aright. The younger one looked at me and said, "What's wrong?" I, of course, said, "Nothing." He came right back with, "Something's up. You're not happy. Where's your joy?"
That hit me hard. It wasn't just a 'where's your God-given good attitude' kind of question.. he was wondering what happened to dampen me, to out my light, as it were. It hit me because there wasn't really a reason.. I was just all harumphed. [Please, don't try to figure that out. There isn't a good explanation.]
I realized that there was a significant lack of reasons for being in the attitude I was in... my classmate showed me, in the span of one sentence, that attitude is everything and that I have control over it. The question to me wasn't so much about where the joy was - I knew it still resided within me. It was more about why I was choosing not to show it and to let my bad, but largely unbased, mood rule my morning.
It didn't seem natural that people should so easily read me. However, as I've learned to pay more attention, I'm finding it's not nearly as weird... or as hard... as it would at first seem. One of my best friends is a good example.. and don't be creeped out, I don't stalk him. I just spend a lot of time with him. :) Anyways, when said friend is happy, the skin on his face shines with an almost pinkish glow, and his eyes are clear. However, when angry, it's as if someone took some smoke, or something similar, and rubbed it in (if that was possible).. you may have heard the expression "clouded over"? Well, I've seen it live. His face clouds over. The skin gets pale and darker, and looks almost pasty, similar to the consistancy of cookie dough. His eyes dull and get a red tinge as if he was tired. It's crazy. I can always tell when he's in less than a good mood by his face... even if I don't know exactly why. I suppose it's similar with my own person.
It used to bother me - a lot - that people could read my moods so easily. It's hard to fake being happy when you're upset, or vice versa, or whatever you want, really, when people can tell how you're feeling by your body or the way you carry yourself.
However, ever since I started my job, I've realized that this is not something to be annoyed by. Better than that, my mood, and however my body chooses to communicate it - whether by starry eyes or uplifted step - is a tool. It's a tool to teach and encourage others to be happier themselves.
You see, if people can tell that I'm happy, natural law says they should in turn be happier, even if it's only a little. Think about it. If you see someone laughing and enjoying themselves, you smile a little more inside, even if you're having a horrible day. Because joy creates joy, and it's natural to feel a little better when you see someone else having a great time.
So, whatever if my eyes sparkle. If that proves that I'm happy, bring it on. They'd better be sparkling, because if they aren't, I'm not having a good time and enjoying my life. And I don't want that. I'd rather be happy, eyes sparkling or not, I don't care. But since they apparently do, I'll embrace it. And I'll sparkle my way into others' hearts and lives, throwing out sparkly eye pixie dust and hopefully making their eyes a little more sparkly too.
What about you? What would you rather communicate with your body? It's not hard to tell whether most people are happy or not... what do you want them to see? More importantly, what do you want to feel?
Think about it. Do you sparkle?
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Hearts of Glass
Today I finished the book The Betrayal by Beverly Lewis. It is the second in a five part series about an Amish family with five daughters and the trials they go through from the point of the eldest's Rumschpringe (or the period from the sixteenth birthday until a young adult chooses to formally be baptised into the church or to leave the community and is a 'running around' period meant to allow Amish young adults to experience a bit more of the world and to find a suitable marriage partner within the faith) and continues throughout the next few years with excerpts from each daughter's point of view.
The books are good, easy reads that give you a fairly decent picture of traditional Old Order Amish lifestyle, and I own several of Lewis' works. The Betrayal mostly tells the story of the second oldest daughter of the family, Leah, and her beau, Jonas. At the beginning of the book, they are madly in love and participating in the traditional routines of Amish courtship practices, which include going to barn singings with other young folks, and horse and buggy rides late into the night. Over the course of the book, Jonas gets offered a wonderful opportunity to master a trade in another church district, in another state altogether, and ends up taking it. Meanwhile, another youth at home, Gideon, is the young man chosen to marry Leah by her father.. but everyone knows Leah loves Jonas and Gid refuses to destroy it.
Gid gives Leah a German Shepherd puppy, and one day some months later she gets lost in the wood behind her home, and together, Gid and the dog King end up rescuing her and bringing her back. Leah's older sister Sadie espies them holding hands on the way home, but doesn't ask for an explanation and begins to jump to conclusions. Near the end of the book, Sadie moves out to Ohio where Jonas is working for a change of scenery, and through a myriad of misinterpretations, destroyed or discarded letters, and hastily made phone calls, Leah and Jonas both end up believing that they've been cheated on weeks before their planned wedding - Leah with Gideon, and Jonas with Sadie. The wedding is called off, for reasons that had they spoken directly, would've been easily and swiftly dealt with. However, because of the patched together information from other sources and the strict rules of the Amish church regarding courtship before marriage, neither Leah nor Jonas know the truth until it's too late.
I can't tell you what happens beyond that, because I only have the first and second books. (I will be visiting the library shortly!) But reading that today, it kind of struck me in a new way how fragile relationships are.
Think of the person you would consider your best, or at least a very dear, friend. Someone you know inside and out, sometimes better than yourself. Now think of someone you met in the past week. You have relationships with both these people... but they're obviously not the same. What's the difference? The answer should be jumping out at you right now - time. You've spent time with one and not the other.
It takes hours, days, weeks, years.. you get the point.. to build a solid relationship. Those hours can't just be idle chatter all the time, either... they must be at times be spent in earnest discussion, at times in laughter, at times in tears, at times in silence.
However, despite all those hours invested, it can take but one wrongly worded statement, but one lie, but one bit of gossip to destroy in one fell swoop every iota of trust that exists.. er, existed.
And once gone, it is possibly gone forever - and you're gonna have to work hard if you want it back.
I think, though, that the most powerful relationship repairing tools are the words, "I'm sorry," and "I forgive you,", of course, provided that they're meant sincerely and one makes an effort to remedy and not repeat one's mistake.
Recognizing and taking responsibility of one's erronous ways and mistakes goes far in repairing a hurt relationship, but sometimes it takes more than just words of apology. Sometimes it takes actions. And sometimes, it takes time. Sometimes, there is nothing one can do except offer their most sincere apology and walk away knowing one did one's best.
After reading that book, and knowing things from all perspectives, it was very frustrating to see the characters struggle in the ways they did because they chose to obey the laws of communicating only by written word, even when important letters (which were tampered with by other people) never seemed to arrive or be delivered, or even worse, were never written because of one three reasons: i) they were afraid to write, b) they assumed things, or c) they listened to others who themselves had only partial pieces of the puzzle.
Which made me think about how much I'd stake to save a relationship I cared about when it was on rocky ground. Would I rely on what others said about people involved and what they saw or heard? I think I would be interested, but they're subject to their own opinions and biases too. I've learned too that jumping to conclusions and assuming things is never the route to travel either..
I once had a friend text me and say how he felt betrayed by some people he knew and didn't feel like he could associate with them anymore. I encouraged him to aquiesce to their request to talk, however, and I told him exactly this: that as long as he didn't talk to them, any answers to the questions he had were merely guesses. He may have guessed correctly, but there was also the possibility that he had not. I told him that simply for his own eventual peace of mind, he should go speak to them, instead of making assumptions.
He did speak to them. Most of his guesses were correct. However, some apologies were given and issues dealt with, and they are still close friends today... even after a deep hurt. Because the words "I'm sorry," and "Will you forgive me?" came into play, and because he overcame his anger and pain enough to at least hear their side.
So what will you do? We all have been and will be hurt by someone we love. What are you willing to put at stake - your relationship, or your pride? What's more worth saving?
The books are good, easy reads that give you a fairly decent picture of traditional Old Order Amish lifestyle, and I own several of Lewis' works. The Betrayal mostly tells the story of the second oldest daughter of the family, Leah, and her beau, Jonas. At the beginning of the book, they are madly in love and participating in the traditional routines of Amish courtship practices, which include going to barn singings with other young folks, and horse and buggy rides late into the night. Over the course of the book, Jonas gets offered a wonderful opportunity to master a trade in another church district, in another state altogether, and ends up taking it. Meanwhile, another youth at home, Gideon, is the young man chosen to marry Leah by her father.. but everyone knows Leah loves Jonas and Gid refuses to destroy it.
Gid gives Leah a German Shepherd puppy, and one day some months later she gets lost in the wood behind her home, and together, Gid and the dog King end up rescuing her and bringing her back. Leah's older sister Sadie espies them holding hands on the way home, but doesn't ask for an explanation and begins to jump to conclusions. Near the end of the book, Sadie moves out to Ohio where Jonas is working for a change of scenery, and through a myriad of misinterpretations, destroyed or discarded letters, and hastily made phone calls, Leah and Jonas both end up believing that they've been cheated on weeks before their planned wedding - Leah with Gideon, and Jonas with Sadie. The wedding is called off, for reasons that had they spoken directly, would've been easily and swiftly dealt with. However, because of the patched together information from other sources and the strict rules of the Amish church regarding courtship before marriage, neither Leah nor Jonas know the truth until it's too late.
I can't tell you what happens beyond that, because I only have the first and second books. (I will be visiting the library shortly!) But reading that today, it kind of struck me in a new way how fragile relationships are.
Think of the person you would consider your best, or at least a very dear, friend. Someone you know inside and out, sometimes better than yourself. Now think of someone you met in the past week. You have relationships with both these people... but they're obviously not the same. What's the difference? The answer should be jumping out at you right now - time. You've spent time with one and not the other.
It takes hours, days, weeks, years.. you get the point.. to build a solid relationship. Those hours can't just be idle chatter all the time, either... they must be at times be spent in earnest discussion, at times in laughter, at times in tears, at times in silence.
However, despite all those hours invested, it can take but one wrongly worded statement, but one lie, but one bit of gossip to destroy in one fell swoop every iota of trust that exists.. er, existed.
And once gone, it is possibly gone forever - and you're gonna have to work hard if you want it back.
I think, though, that the most powerful relationship repairing tools are the words, "I'm sorry," and "I forgive you,", of course, provided that they're meant sincerely and one makes an effort to remedy and not repeat one's mistake.
Recognizing and taking responsibility of one's erronous ways and mistakes goes far in repairing a hurt relationship, but sometimes it takes more than just words of apology. Sometimes it takes actions. And sometimes, it takes time. Sometimes, there is nothing one can do except offer their most sincere apology and walk away knowing one did one's best.
After reading that book, and knowing things from all perspectives, it was very frustrating to see the characters struggle in the ways they did because they chose to obey the laws of communicating only by written word, even when important letters (which were tampered with by other people) never seemed to arrive or be delivered, or even worse, were never written because of one three reasons: i) they were afraid to write, b) they assumed things, or c) they listened to others who themselves had only partial pieces of the puzzle.
Which made me think about how much I'd stake to save a relationship I cared about when it was on rocky ground. Would I rely on what others said about people involved and what they saw or heard? I think I would be interested, but they're subject to their own opinions and biases too. I've learned too that jumping to conclusions and assuming things is never the route to travel either..
I once had a friend text me and say how he felt betrayed by some people he knew and didn't feel like he could associate with them anymore. I encouraged him to aquiesce to their request to talk, however, and I told him exactly this: that as long as he didn't talk to them, any answers to the questions he had were merely guesses. He may have guessed correctly, but there was also the possibility that he had not. I told him that simply for his own eventual peace of mind, he should go speak to them, instead of making assumptions.
He did speak to them. Most of his guesses were correct. However, some apologies were given and issues dealt with, and they are still close friends today... even after a deep hurt. Because the words "I'm sorry," and "Will you forgive me?" came into play, and because he overcame his anger and pain enough to at least hear their side.
So what will you do? We all have been and will be hurt by someone we love. What are you willing to put at stake - your relationship, or your pride? What's more worth saving?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Wasted Time
Today is Remembrance Day here in Canada (in case any readers aren't Canadian). It is a day when we remember fallen soldiers from any war in the last 100 years, or in other words WWI and on. Sometimes we make special mention of fallen police, fire, and other emergency personnel as well, and also men and women who gave their lives during battles before WWI that were integral in securing the country we so dearly know and love as today's Canada.
In note of that, I would like to make mention of and thank every person who has or is involved in the Canadian armed forces, both at home and abroad, for donating their resources and risking their lives in order to keep Canada free. You are greatly appreciated and respected nationwide.
It being Remembrance Day, and myself working at a university cafeteria, and the holiday being so close to the weekend, the store was unusually dead today. All the university midterm exams finished yesterday, and the student body was basically nonexistant - everyone took a four day weekend. I hardly saw ten people the whole time I was there.
Because it was so dead, everyone (especially me, because I don't do any cooking) had next to nothing to do. Around 9:30, my boss came into my area and said that sales were much lower than expected (even for the holidays), they didn't need to keep nearly as many people around and I could go home after three hours. I normally do six per day, with a half hour lunch. So today, I went home, after three hours, excited because I could now watch the Remembrance Day ceremonies on television (I was too late to attend an actual service as I usually do). Around 2pm, my boss called me at home and said that they expected the same tomorrow, and because they only needed one dishwasher, for a few hours, to keep up with the demand, my shift was cancelled. They chose the night guy to get the hours for tomorrow on account of senority, as he's been working three weeks longer than I have.
I was excited about today and neutral on tomorrow, but I conceded it would be nice to have such a long weekend. I posted about it on Facebook, just because I was excited about not having to get up tomorrow and such.
My friend commented and was like, "Why would you want your shift to be cancelled? If it was me, I'd be furious."
Which made me think about, again, how much time people waste being angry or disappointed over things that can't be changed. Like, actually. cannot. be. changed. No matter what you do or try to do.
Things like today, and tomorrow. I might've been able to stay a bit longer today, but with nothing to do. Plus, he said to go. So whatever. Tomorrow though.. well, boss is boss. He says no, I don't go.
And like my friend said, I could be furious. A lot of people would be. But I'm not. I can't do anything about it. The way I see it, he's right. The other dishwasher has more senority. Plus, the other dishwasher also has a child he's supporting and needs the hours much more than I do. Plus, I now have time to do things tomorrow that might not otherwise get done in a busy weekend. Plus, I don't have to wake up at 6 if I don't want to. It really depends on how you look at things.
To me, being angry at something I can't change is wasting energy that could more wisely and prudently be invested into something else, something which would see a result. For instance, I had two conversations within the last forty eight hours that, in my opinion, justify anger.
One, my mom's friend's daughter, approximately 15 years old, recently asked her mother to purchase some things that were simply outside of the limits of the mother's budget. The mother, trying to exercise prudence with her funds, said no.. to which the daughter replied that her mother should buy her said things because, as the parent, it is her responsibility to keep the daughter happy. (Should mention that daughter has a job and is capable of saving for wanted things). To me, the mother's resulting anger at her daughter's lack of respect and disregard of their financial situation is justifiable. It is a situation which could be changed, depending on the way mother chooses to answer her daughter, and what she teaches her about money and wise spending and saving, and respecting her mother's decisions and efforts.
Second situation involved a friend who was helping her boyfriend out temporarily with funds, but felt that she was giving him too much, and wanted to retain more for herself and her own expenses. As often happens with couples when talking about major issues, they disagreed and she was angry that he wanted so much.. but they talked about it and settled it suitably for both.
I don't think either of the subjects in those stories wasted their time being angry, because both situations were legitimate and things needed to and could be changed. Nor do I think being angry about cancelled shifts would be pointless if they were routinely being cancelled.. however, one shift, to me, is not worth it. I'm not losing the job and I know that this is just because of a holiday.
Similar situations I've run into include being angry over the weather, that one fell in the mud.. you know what I mean. Things that seem insurmountable like taxes and laws aren't always.. stand up for what you want, be angry, vote on it, write letters.
I hope this makes sense to you.. it's one of those things where it changes with every situation. But there are a lot of people who spend thousands of minutes upset over things they can do nothing about and that can't be changed.. minutes they'll never get back.
If you hypothetically had one million minutes in your life, and would die the second the last minute was up, how much of that would you want to spend mad, upset, or disappointed that you didn't have to? There's such a thing as righteous anger, but I would say that most of the time, anger isn't worth it.
Think about it when you find yourself getting angry. "I only have this minute of this day of this year once. I'll never have it again.. do I want to spend it joyful and appreciate the life I have, or angry and clouded because I refuse to see the good side of things?" Practice changing your perspective, and then do it as often as you can.. you'll find life gets lots more enjoyable.
"If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it."
~Mary Engelbreit
In note of that, I would like to make mention of and thank every person who has or is involved in the Canadian armed forces, both at home and abroad, for donating their resources and risking their lives in order to keep Canada free. You are greatly appreciated and respected nationwide.
It being Remembrance Day, and myself working at a university cafeteria, and the holiday being so close to the weekend, the store was unusually dead today. All the university midterm exams finished yesterday, and the student body was basically nonexistant - everyone took a four day weekend. I hardly saw ten people the whole time I was there.
Because it was so dead, everyone (especially me, because I don't do any cooking) had next to nothing to do. Around 9:30, my boss came into my area and said that sales were much lower than expected (even for the holidays), they didn't need to keep nearly as many people around and I could go home after three hours. I normally do six per day, with a half hour lunch. So today, I went home, after three hours, excited because I could now watch the Remembrance Day ceremonies on television (I was too late to attend an actual service as I usually do). Around 2pm, my boss called me at home and said that they expected the same tomorrow, and because they only needed one dishwasher, for a few hours, to keep up with the demand, my shift was cancelled. They chose the night guy to get the hours for tomorrow on account of senority, as he's been working three weeks longer than I have.
I was excited about today and neutral on tomorrow, but I conceded it would be nice to have such a long weekend. I posted about it on Facebook, just because I was excited about not having to get up tomorrow and such.
My friend commented and was like, "Why would you want your shift to be cancelled? If it was me, I'd be furious."
Which made me think about, again, how much time people waste being angry or disappointed over things that can't be changed. Like, actually. cannot. be. changed. No matter what you do or try to do.
Things like today, and tomorrow. I might've been able to stay a bit longer today, but with nothing to do. Plus, he said to go. So whatever. Tomorrow though.. well, boss is boss. He says no, I don't go.
And like my friend said, I could be furious. A lot of people would be. But I'm not. I can't do anything about it. The way I see it, he's right. The other dishwasher has more senority. Plus, the other dishwasher also has a child he's supporting and needs the hours much more than I do. Plus, I now have time to do things tomorrow that might not otherwise get done in a busy weekend. Plus, I don't have to wake up at 6 if I don't want to. It really depends on how you look at things.
To me, being angry at something I can't change is wasting energy that could more wisely and prudently be invested into something else, something which would see a result. For instance, I had two conversations within the last forty eight hours that, in my opinion, justify anger.
One, my mom's friend's daughter, approximately 15 years old, recently asked her mother to purchase some things that were simply outside of the limits of the mother's budget. The mother, trying to exercise prudence with her funds, said no.. to which the daughter replied that her mother should buy her said things because, as the parent, it is her responsibility to keep the daughter happy. (Should mention that daughter has a job and is capable of saving for wanted things). To me, the mother's resulting anger at her daughter's lack of respect and disregard of their financial situation is justifiable. It is a situation which could be changed, depending on the way mother chooses to answer her daughter, and what she teaches her about money and wise spending and saving, and respecting her mother's decisions and efforts.
Second situation involved a friend who was helping her boyfriend out temporarily with funds, but felt that she was giving him too much, and wanted to retain more for herself and her own expenses. As often happens with couples when talking about major issues, they disagreed and she was angry that he wanted so much.. but they talked about it and settled it suitably for both.
I don't think either of the subjects in those stories wasted their time being angry, because both situations were legitimate and things needed to and could be changed. Nor do I think being angry about cancelled shifts would be pointless if they were routinely being cancelled.. however, one shift, to me, is not worth it. I'm not losing the job and I know that this is just because of a holiday.
Similar situations I've run into include being angry over the weather, that one fell in the mud.. you know what I mean. Things that seem insurmountable like taxes and laws aren't always.. stand up for what you want, be angry, vote on it, write letters.
I hope this makes sense to you.. it's one of those things where it changes with every situation. But there are a lot of people who spend thousands of minutes upset over things they can do nothing about and that can't be changed.. minutes they'll never get back.
If you hypothetically had one million minutes in your life, and would die the second the last minute was up, how much of that would you want to spend mad, upset, or disappointed that you didn't have to? There's such a thing as righteous anger, but I would say that most of the time, anger isn't worth it.
Think about it when you find yourself getting angry. "I only have this minute of this day of this year once. I'll never have it again.. do I want to spend it joyful and appreciate the life I have, or angry and clouded because I refuse to see the good side of things?" Practice changing your perspective, and then do it as often as you can.. you'll find life gets lots more enjoyable.
"If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it."
~Mary Engelbreit
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Keep Trekkin', You'll Make It There. Trust Me.
Yesterday, (Friday), I celebrated the completion of my first two weeks at my new job. (I even bought myself a pudding as a reward!). I am very proud of myself. Not only for sticking with it for two weeks - and no, I'm not stopping there - but also for learning a brand new skill set and also some life lessons.
Yes. I said life lessons.
You're probably wondering what kind of crazy job I have, that two weeks would teach me something. I am a dishwasher for a university cafeteria. I love it, and I'm proud of what I do.
I've come to realize, with some help from others, that I have THE most important job in the place. Nothing happens if there's no clean dishes. I'm busy all day, and there's never nothing to do. I don't consider my job to be purely washing dishes, however.. in my opinion, and the goal I aim for, is to make every person I come in contact with happier. A lot of time, that simply means having clean dishes. But, if I put a little more effort in, the level of happiness actually, legitimately increases; instead of them just being 'happy' (read - satisfied) by the work that I do.
So, enter life lesson Numero Uno. If you're happy and upbeat, your day will go better, and everyone else's mood immediately improves along with yours.
Like I mentioned a couple of posts ago, smile everywhere and at any opportunity. I smile at everyone I meet, every morning, and usually it's accompanied by a very loud, energetic, and cheery "Good morning, _______!" They usually play music in the kitchen. We have two Jamaicans working with us, and often it's a Jamaican station from satellite radio. So, I dance across the floor. I give hugs away like they're a disease, unstoppable and spreading to every individual. I say please, excuse me, and thank you... even the people who bring me dishes get thanked. (Note. Kind of funny to do that.. they always look confused.) Part of my job is to collect cardboard and take it out to recycling, and also to help put away shipments of food every morning. I try to make everything I say positive. I say, "Yes sir," and "Yes ma'am," all the time. I don't think about having the 'lowest' job in the place. I think about how much I'm making their lives easier and better because I'm saving them time.
And it's working. Almost everyone smiles back. They tease me a lot... partially because I scare easily, and they think that's funny. I've got a few nicknames in two weeks.. including Princess, Little One (I'm pretty much the youngest), and this one fellow calls me Stretch. No idea why. They give me hugs. Someone gave me a cookie. Another offered to pay for the pudding I got yesterday. They apologize for bringing me dishes constantly and making messes.
Which brings to life lesson Number Two. The constant dishes.
See, my goal since starting has been to clear the racks and washing area every day, so I have nothing to do. It did happen Thursday, because the night washer had help Wednesday night. It was great. I kept up with everything right away, and I had time to Comet and scrub the entire place down and mop the floors. I was so proud of my pretty, clean, shiny dishpit - which I like to call my "haven" - and I let EVERYONE know. But, as I'm sure you can guess, it doesn't happen often. New dishes always come. It's cyclicle. Even on Friday, I couldn't fully keep up, even though it was spotless the day before.
At first, it bothered me. I wanted to be the best dishwasher they ever had, to keep up perfectly, to have it clean for the night dishwasher every day. I was discouraged when I had more than I could handle during my shift. But it didn't take long for me to realize that sometimes, even my best efforts won't fully clear away the mess.
So I was thinking long and hard about that this week during work, because I really don't want to get discouraged and disappointed every day I don't get absolutely everything done.. because that would mean 95% of the time I wouldn't be reaching my goal. There are ALWAYS new dirty dishes to be done. Thinking about that, I realized something.
It's not how much you have to go that's as important as how much you've already come. Although the dirty dishes matter and have to be washed, they really aren't what I should be focusing on. They're a goal to work towards, but that's all they are. What really matters is that I'm putting in my full effort and focusing on what I've accomplished- the dishes I've washed, the things I have done. Because I'll never be fully done, so if I keep looking at how far I have to go, I'll never realize how far I've already made it.
One of my favorite missionary stories involves Amy Carmichael. I read once about a story where she had to lead many children on a journey of several days, traveling on foot. Understandably, the children became tired and slightly less than agreeable. To encourage them, whenever they asked how much farther it was to their destination, she told them, "Every step you take is one step closer!" Meaning = There may be a lot to go to your goal, but as long as you're still moving forward, you're getting closer.
I had my own Amy Carmichael experience approximately two years ago in Guatemala. We had a day trip in which we were lucky enough to be able to climb an active volcano. I paid to ride a horse about halfway up, mostly because I love horses and take any opportunity to ride one. However, I was soon glad I did.. because when we hit the volcanic shale, I felt like I was going to die. If you've seen the Lord of the Rings, imagine the scenes of Mount Doom - foggy, desolate, and full of small, sharp rock chips that make walking difficult. That's pretty much exactly what we had for our walk up the latter half of the mountain. I made it fine for awhile.. mostly flat parts, I'll admit, but as soon as we hit some intense uphill I was done. Especially because I'm diabetic and my energy stores work a little different than other peoples'... since my body can't convert sugar on its own, once my energy reserves are depleted I'm practically useless. Eating helps a little, but it takes awhile and unless it's a substantial snack with sugars or protein, all it does is put me back to being stable.
Anyways, point of information and story is that my blood sugar was lowering, I was tired, emotional, and to make it worse, I kept tripping and falling. I was at the back of the pack, and far behind the next last person. But one man taught me an incredible lesson that day. And it's the lesson that came back to me in these last two weeks. It's not about how far you have to go. It's about how far you've come. Steve Smith (our head chaperone), stayed with me, encouraging, demanding, yelling, pushing, pulling, sharing his own water, and pointing out the way when I couldn't make it out anymore on account of sweat and tears.. and I made it to the top. Slowly, but surely, one step at a time, I walked those rocks.. or more like monkeyed over them, using my arms and my legs.. but I made it.
On the way down, I fell on a large chunk of volcanic rock and ripped a huge gash in my left knee. It bears a scar today. Add to that, we lost our guide for a while and ended up having to backtrack when we did find him. We had to zigzag up a portion.. and I was low, tired, somewhat disoriented, and now bleeding.. but I made it, because I set small goals and focused one step at a time. There was one boy in our group, and he was kind enough to stay with me. On the way back up that trail, I had him travel to the next turning point in the zigzag, and I walked to him. I didn't think about taking the whole trail on, or the rest of the walk down. I focused on twenty foot sections at a time, on making it to Tobyn, and then looking back and being proud of every twenty feet I accomplished.
Together, my job has reminded me of those two things and made them more real for me. We've already talked about making our world a better place with a better attitude in previous posts, so I'll leave that be... but I want to encourage you to, as Dory the fish says in Nemo, "just keep swimming". Don't look so far forward that all you think about is how much you have to go. Don't look back and spend your time thinking about when things weren't so hard, either. Doing either of those is bound to bring depression. Focus on what you're doing now. Small goals, one step at a time. Look back and be proud of how far you've come.
I was reading Chicken Soup for the Soul earlier today and I came across this quote: "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."
So do that. If today doesn't work out, promise yourself you won't give up and you'll try again tomorrow. As long as you're moving forward, nothing else matters.
Yes. I said life lessons.
You're probably wondering what kind of crazy job I have, that two weeks would teach me something. I am a dishwasher for a university cafeteria. I love it, and I'm proud of what I do.
I've come to realize, with some help from others, that I have THE most important job in the place. Nothing happens if there's no clean dishes. I'm busy all day, and there's never nothing to do. I don't consider my job to be purely washing dishes, however.. in my opinion, and the goal I aim for, is to make every person I come in contact with happier. A lot of time, that simply means having clean dishes. But, if I put a little more effort in, the level of happiness actually, legitimately increases; instead of them just being 'happy' (read - satisfied) by the work that I do.
So, enter life lesson Numero Uno. If you're happy and upbeat, your day will go better, and everyone else's mood immediately improves along with yours.
Like I mentioned a couple of posts ago, smile everywhere and at any opportunity. I smile at everyone I meet, every morning, and usually it's accompanied by a very loud, energetic, and cheery "Good morning, _______!" They usually play music in the kitchen. We have two Jamaicans working with us, and often it's a Jamaican station from satellite radio. So, I dance across the floor. I give hugs away like they're a disease, unstoppable and spreading to every individual. I say please, excuse me, and thank you... even the people who bring me dishes get thanked. (Note. Kind of funny to do that.. they always look confused.) Part of my job is to collect cardboard and take it out to recycling, and also to help put away shipments of food every morning. I try to make everything I say positive. I say, "Yes sir," and "Yes ma'am," all the time. I don't think about having the 'lowest' job in the place. I think about how much I'm making their lives easier and better because I'm saving them time.
And it's working. Almost everyone smiles back. They tease me a lot... partially because I scare easily, and they think that's funny. I've got a few nicknames in two weeks.. including Princess, Little One (I'm pretty much the youngest), and this one fellow calls me Stretch. No idea why. They give me hugs. Someone gave me a cookie. Another offered to pay for the pudding I got yesterday. They apologize for bringing me dishes constantly and making messes.
Which brings to life lesson Number Two. The constant dishes.
See, my goal since starting has been to clear the racks and washing area every day, so I have nothing to do. It did happen Thursday, because the night washer had help Wednesday night. It was great. I kept up with everything right away, and I had time to Comet and scrub the entire place down and mop the floors. I was so proud of my pretty, clean, shiny dishpit - which I like to call my "haven" - and I let EVERYONE know. But, as I'm sure you can guess, it doesn't happen often. New dishes always come. It's cyclicle. Even on Friday, I couldn't fully keep up, even though it was spotless the day before.
At first, it bothered me. I wanted to be the best dishwasher they ever had, to keep up perfectly, to have it clean for the night dishwasher every day. I was discouraged when I had more than I could handle during my shift. But it didn't take long for me to realize that sometimes, even my best efforts won't fully clear away the mess.
So I was thinking long and hard about that this week during work, because I really don't want to get discouraged and disappointed every day I don't get absolutely everything done.. because that would mean 95% of the time I wouldn't be reaching my goal. There are ALWAYS new dirty dishes to be done. Thinking about that, I realized something.
It's not how much you have to go that's as important as how much you've already come. Although the dirty dishes matter and have to be washed, they really aren't what I should be focusing on. They're a goal to work towards, but that's all they are. What really matters is that I'm putting in my full effort and focusing on what I've accomplished- the dishes I've washed, the things I have done. Because I'll never be fully done, so if I keep looking at how far I have to go, I'll never realize how far I've already made it.
One of my favorite missionary stories involves Amy Carmichael. I read once about a story where she had to lead many children on a journey of several days, traveling on foot. Understandably, the children became tired and slightly less than agreeable. To encourage them, whenever they asked how much farther it was to their destination, she told them, "Every step you take is one step closer!" Meaning = There may be a lot to go to your goal, but as long as you're still moving forward, you're getting closer.
I had my own Amy Carmichael experience approximately two years ago in Guatemala. We had a day trip in which we were lucky enough to be able to climb an active volcano. I paid to ride a horse about halfway up, mostly because I love horses and take any opportunity to ride one. However, I was soon glad I did.. because when we hit the volcanic shale, I felt like I was going to die. If you've seen the Lord of the Rings, imagine the scenes of Mount Doom - foggy, desolate, and full of small, sharp rock chips that make walking difficult. That's pretty much exactly what we had for our walk up the latter half of the mountain. I made it fine for awhile.. mostly flat parts, I'll admit, but as soon as we hit some intense uphill I was done. Especially because I'm diabetic and my energy stores work a little different than other peoples'... since my body can't convert sugar on its own, once my energy reserves are depleted I'm practically useless. Eating helps a little, but it takes awhile and unless it's a substantial snack with sugars or protein, all it does is put me back to being stable.
Anyways, point of information and story is that my blood sugar was lowering, I was tired, emotional, and to make it worse, I kept tripping and falling. I was at the back of the pack, and far behind the next last person. But one man taught me an incredible lesson that day. And it's the lesson that came back to me in these last two weeks. It's not about how far you have to go. It's about how far you've come. Steve Smith (our head chaperone), stayed with me, encouraging, demanding, yelling, pushing, pulling, sharing his own water, and pointing out the way when I couldn't make it out anymore on account of sweat and tears.. and I made it to the top. Slowly, but surely, one step at a time, I walked those rocks.. or more like monkeyed over them, using my arms and my legs.. but I made it.
On the way down, I fell on a large chunk of volcanic rock and ripped a huge gash in my left knee. It bears a scar today. Add to that, we lost our guide for a while and ended up having to backtrack when we did find him. We had to zigzag up a portion.. and I was low, tired, somewhat disoriented, and now bleeding.. but I made it, because I set small goals and focused one step at a time. There was one boy in our group, and he was kind enough to stay with me. On the way back up that trail, I had him travel to the next turning point in the zigzag, and I walked to him. I didn't think about taking the whole trail on, or the rest of the walk down. I focused on twenty foot sections at a time, on making it to Tobyn, and then looking back and being proud of every twenty feet I accomplished.
Together, my job has reminded me of those two things and made them more real for me. We've already talked about making our world a better place with a better attitude in previous posts, so I'll leave that be... but I want to encourage you to, as Dory the fish says in Nemo, "just keep swimming". Don't look so far forward that all you think about is how much you have to go. Don't look back and spend your time thinking about when things weren't so hard, either. Doing either of those is bound to bring depression. Focus on what you're doing now. Small goals, one step at a time. Look back and be proud of how far you've come.
I was reading Chicken Soup for the Soul earlier today and I came across this quote: "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."
So do that. If today doesn't work out, promise yourself you won't give up and you'll try again tomorrow. As long as you're moving forward, nothing else matters.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Just For Jody
I was personally requested to write another tonight. This one's for Jody.. but hopefully the rest of you will like it too :)
On Halloween, I volunteered at our church's event for children, as I have been doing for almost 10 years now. Right when I got there, the dean of the Bible school pulled me into her office for a few minutes to give me back some assignments from last year (teacher took awhile to mark them :S)
Anyways, the stuff received was from our course in Authority. The ending assignment was a paper on said subject. I took mine home after the event, and reread it - and you know what? It might be wrong to say, but I was impressed with myself. I really think I did a good job on that paper.. and I got 90% on it, so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say maybe the instructor did too.
I also thought it tied in a little with my last blog. So, I'm going to copy and paste the first half for you to read (second half is personal example, which I would share but I think it would make this way too long and although it's good, it's not necessary to add for my point)
-------
Authority
Everyone agrees that authority, both as a cultural idea and in physical examples, exists. Most would also say that they’ve encountered both good and bad examples of authority. However,for us to further explain this idea of good and bad authority, we must fully understand exactly what authority is.
http://www.dictionary.com/ defines authority in this way: “The power to determine, adjudicate, or otherwise settle issues or disputes; jurisdiction; the right to control, command, or determine.” Wikipedia states that the word authority is derived from the Latin word “auctoritas”, which means “invention, advice, opinion, nfluence, or commands,” which come from an “auctor” – or in English - a master, leader, or author. Authority, therefore, is in essence the ability of one person (a superior) to impose his will and direction on another (an inferior). This usually involves force of arms, called structural authority or compulsion, or by force ofargument, called sapiential authority or persuasion.
Authority is not the same as power, but these terms are often exchanged freely for each other, especially in common areas like policing and government. However, power is force, compelling someone to do something that, without the abusive power of force, he or she wouldn’t or couldn’t do.
To better understand this idea, consider a very common illustration : a parent and a child. When the child respects his parent’s wishes and therefore does what the parent asks him to do, he is respecting the authority his parent possesses. However, let’s say the child is of a bit younger age, and today happens to have missed his nap. He is tired, upset, and refuses to put on his jacket as requested. At this point, the parent moves past his or her authority and into the medium of power, and dresses the child themselves. Although it may have been necessary to use power (perhaps it was cold outside), the parent essentially forced the child to do what he did not want to do himself. This is the difference between authority and power – one asks for obedience, and the other requires it.
Of course, this is a situation where the use of power would be considered appropriate by most. Like every other situation in this world, the opposite could be and sometimes is true. A common example that many people are familiar with is Adolph Hitler’s Nazi regime. Some are not aware of the fact that Adolph Hitler actually had legitimate authority as the German potentate. He was appointed to the German government as Chancellor in 1933, and then Fuhrer in 1934. However, Hitler, as we all know, abused his authority and used his power as Germany’s ruler to decimate Europe in a personal quest for absolute power over the earth and all within it.
Sometimes the people or groups wielding the power and authority aren’t the same. For instance, the Boston Tea Party was a rebellion of the citizens of Boston, Massachusetts against the British government in 1773. In that situation, the authority was held by Great Britain… but the power was in the hands of the Bostonians themselves. Authority also has a time frame, and it doesn’t always have to be a person, specifically – it can be nearly anything that requires you to do or be something. It can last forever (like God’s authority, or the authority of food and water over your body), many years (a king’s authority lasts as long as his life does), a few months (school asts ten months out of the year), or even two minutes – such as a traffic light.
Authority is a touchy reality and one that is subject to much debate and disagreement, simply because of what it stands for. People always have resisted and always will resist someone or something domineering over them, whether it’s legimate or not. This means that people in positions of authority must be very careful in how they deal with their respective areas of leadership.
This course on authority has shown me how I should uphold and respect all authority, whether I consider it good, bad, right, wrong, or otherwise. What I’ve discovered and deciphered out of everything I’ve learned in life until this point about the subject of authority = obedience is a journey, and we all take it.
----------
The reason I thought this tied in to the last post is probably obvious. We will all, at some point in our lives, be placed in authority over someone. Maybe more than one someone. And we will all, likewise, be placed in a situation where we have to submit. The key is, how will you handle it? Nobody likes to be bossed around, but sometimes it's necessary. If you can't follow, are you sure you can lead? Humility goes a long way. Often, we say we can do it better.. but maybe, just maybe, that's why we're not doing it.
So here's the question. When you're in a leadership position, will you move into the medium of power by using force to accomplish your will? Or will you stay stay in an authoritative and respective mode? When you're in a situation where you have to obey, will you do so without question or complaint?
The greatest leaders in the world are also good followers. What are you?
“If you wish to know what a man is, place him in authority.”
~Yugoslavian Proverb~
On Halloween, I volunteered at our church's event for children, as I have been doing for almost 10 years now. Right when I got there, the dean of the Bible school pulled me into her office for a few minutes to give me back some assignments from last year (teacher took awhile to mark them :S)
Anyways, the stuff received was from our course in Authority. The ending assignment was a paper on said subject. I took mine home after the event, and reread it - and you know what? It might be wrong to say, but I was impressed with myself. I really think I did a good job on that paper.. and I got 90% on it, so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say maybe the instructor did too.
I also thought it tied in a little with my last blog. So, I'm going to copy and paste the first half for you to read (second half is personal example, which I would share but I think it would make this way too long and although it's good, it's not necessary to add for my point)
-------
Authority
Everyone agrees that authority, both as a cultural idea and in physical examples, exists. Most would also say that they’ve encountered both good and bad examples of authority. However,for us to further explain this idea of good and bad authority, we must fully understand exactly what authority is.
http://www.dictionary.com/ defines authority in this way: “The power to determine, adjudicate, or otherwise settle issues or disputes; jurisdiction; the right to control, command, or determine.” Wikipedia states that the word authority is derived from the Latin word “auctoritas”, which means “invention, advice, opinion, nfluence, or commands,” which come from an “auctor” – or in English - a master, leader, or author. Authority, therefore, is in essence the ability of one person (a superior) to impose his will and direction on another (an inferior). This usually involves force of arms, called structural authority or compulsion, or by force ofargument, called sapiential authority or persuasion.
Authority is not the same as power, but these terms are often exchanged freely for each other, especially in common areas like policing and government. However, power is force, compelling someone to do something that, without the abusive power of force, he or she wouldn’t or couldn’t do.
To better understand this idea, consider a very common illustration : a parent and a child. When the child respects his parent’s wishes and therefore does what the parent asks him to do, he is respecting the authority his parent possesses. However, let’s say the child is of a bit younger age, and today happens to have missed his nap. He is tired, upset, and refuses to put on his jacket as requested. At this point, the parent moves past his or her authority and into the medium of power, and dresses the child themselves. Although it may have been necessary to use power (perhaps it was cold outside), the parent essentially forced the child to do what he did not want to do himself. This is the difference between authority and power – one asks for obedience, and the other requires it.
Of course, this is a situation where the use of power would be considered appropriate by most. Like every other situation in this world, the opposite could be and sometimes is true. A common example that many people are familiar with is Adolph Hitler’s Nazi regime. Some are not aware of the fact that Adolph Hitler actually had legitimate authority as the German potentate. He was appointed to the German government as Chancellor in 1933, and then Fuhrer in 1934. However, Hitler, as we all know, abused his authority and used his power as Germany’s ruler to decimate Europe in a personal quest for absolute power over the earth and all within it.
Sometimes the people or groups wielding the power and authority aren’t the same. For instance, the Boston Tea Party was a rebellion of the citizens of Boston, Massachusetts against the British government in 1773. In that situation, the authority was held by Great Britain… but the power was in the hands of the Bostonians themselves. Authority also has a time frame, and it doesn’t always have to be a person, specifically – it can be nearly anything that requires you to do or be something. It can last forever (like God’s authority, or the authority of food and water over your body), many years (a king’s authority lasts as long as his life does), a few months (school asts ten months out of the year), or even two minutes – such as a traffic light.
Authority is a touchy reality and one that is subject to much debate and disagreement, simply because of what it stands for. People always have resisted and always will resist someone or something domineering over them, whether it’s legimate or not. This means that people in positions of authority must be very careful in how they deal with their respective areas of leadership.
This course on authority has shown me how I should uphold and respect all authority, whether I consider it good, bad, right, wrong, or otherwise. What I’ve discovered and deciphered out of everything I’ve learned in life until this point about the subject of authority = obedience is a journey, and we all take it.
----------
The reason I thought this tied in to the last post is probably obvious. We will all, at some point in our lives, be placed in authority over someone. Maybe more than one someone. And we will all, likewise, be placed in a situation where we have to submit. The key is, how will you handle it? Nobody likes to be bossed around, but sometimes it's necessary. If you can't follow, are you sure you can lead? Humility goes a long way. Often, we say we can do it better.. but maybe, just maybe, that's why we're not doing it.
So here's the question. When you're in a leadership position, will you move into the medium of power by using force to accomplish your will? Or will you stay stay in an authoritative and respective mode? When you're in a situation where you have to obey, will you do so without question or complaint?
The greatest leaders in the world are also good followers. What are you?
“If you wish to know what a man is, place him in authority.”
~Yugoslavian Proverb~
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