Yes, that's right friends. Meredith is down and out with some semblance of illness. It's not meningitis according to the nice ladies at the USC health center, but whatever it is, it requires three different prescriptions medicines, lots of fluid, plenty of rest (ha!), and neck-focused physical therapy, which I also am not doing. The first two of four isn't bad I figure. Granted, I walk around in a perpetual state of light-headedness and an overwhelming need to pee...but I won't go there. Mostly because I just took my muscle relaxer pill and I hope to finish this post before my fingers go or my head flops over, leaving me in a immobile puddle on my floor.
There've been a couple of things on my mind that I am hoping to write more about--the most recent of which is a rant about how I always seem to rant when I post stuff on here. Yes, a bit of irony, I know...but I was thinking this morning about how I should take the time to share here about some of the neat stuff that I am reading in the Bible and the cool epiphanies I've had during my chats with God. So hopefully you will see a bit more of that.
Also, we are at the point in the semester in my playwriting class where we begin developing a rough draft of the scene we want to present for the final. This class has been a really interesting experience of self-discovery. I've explored some places in my writing that were difficult to delve into, but I want to share some of my writing along with the things I am learning about releasing my inner playwrite.
And, as an appropriate finale, I am working through a new man-theory: recently a couple of people have thrown around the phrase, "I just need to man-up and *insert manly action here.*" While I am all about encouraging and affirming guys as they learn and practice what it means to be a man, I think that sometimes "manning-up" can often be for the benefit of others. Yes, I'm talking about dating and the "grow a pair, ask girls out" philosophy, but guys, don't judge me too quickly. I want to take a look at how women fit into this picture. And not to let the entire cat out of the bag, I'll leave you with a glimpse of paw: I'm working with a new term, something to the effect of what it means to "woman-up" or perhaps more appropriately, "woman-down." Feminists prepare your fire pits because you might want to burn me after this one...alas I love stirring up controversy, so hopefully I'll get around to this one sooner rather than later.
As always, comments are welcome--in fact, if you hound me via the comments section, it might help motivate me to ward off the muscle relaxer for a few extra minutes some night.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Romeo And Juliet: Learning to Play "Love" as a Jaded Pessimist
In my Shakespeare class, I've been assigned the most cliche scene in all of theatrical history, the Romeo and Juliet balcony scene. For anyone familiar with the acting world, this is a HUGE challenge because the scene has been done eight-bajillion times, most of the time, terribly. So it is quite a difficult feat to bring anything new to the piece.
Unlike some acting classes, though, the focus of this class is not to try something bizarre so that you milk a "good performance" from an otherwise archaic work...so that any random schmuck can forget that it's Shakespeare and buy into it--ie, making it "relevant." Instead, my professor discusses how Shakespeare should be honored for the verse it is--that by utilizing the style of Shakespearian theatre, infused with a genuine truth brought by the actor, you will achieve a good performance. In layman's terms this means that I can't dress up weird and do something "creative" (read: awkwardly different and flashy) to distract my 5-member audience from seeing that I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
At first, I was excited by the challenge. Then, my insecurities got the best of me: how in the world am I supposed to play this passionate, young lover, from the view through the smudgy-colored glasses I wear? Like most actors, I have my own blend of different acting methods, so when I approach a role, I pull a little bit from Stanislavski's emotional recall (which oversimplified is the idea that if you want to cry on stage, think about your dog dying in order to fake the emotion) and a bit more from Meisner's idea of being "in the moment" (kind of a form of elaborate "pretend"). Part of really putting myself into the shoes of another is thinking about the connections that I have with the character. For instance, if my character is dealing with a huge break-up, I think about times that I experienced something similar--maybe not the exact circumstances, but a time when I felt great loss. Through this, it becomes easy for me to convey how my character feels because I do understand it to a certain degree. A tangent that I'll leave for another day is the theory I have about how actors are always more messed up than normal people because we have to have experienced a lot of crazy crap in order to genuinely play different circumstances.
Digression aside, for me to play Juliet, the first step I take is to make myself a laundry list of all the obsessive "love" feelings that I've had--which is where this character becomes initially complicated. My pride does not let me admit that I have ever, nor do I currently, know what it's like to deal with being passionately "in love." A wise, but perhaps too honest, friend of mine once told me that it would take a while before I ever got into a relationship because I'm "jaded." I still don't really know what that means, but I assume he was referring to the fact that I hate all those mushy feelings and have spent my life training myself to ignore, suppress, nay, obliterate, any hint of "worldly" affection for a member of the opposite sex--the idea being that 1) these emotional feelings only lead to lust issues, dwelling on a man instead of God, and all sorts of other sin problems, and 2) as long as I'm not emotionally attached, they can't hurt me. The truth is, though, that I haven't always been as guarded as I would like and I can think of quite a few examples where my heart got involved and things got fuzzy, with pink (but never pulsating...) hearts, fireworks, weak at the knees, the whole nine yards. (Sorry to disappoint, but that laundry list isn't going to make the cut for publishing this post.) I don't like thinking about this stuff. It's depressing. It makes me want to vomit. That kind of emotion is the enemy!!
But I'm playing Juliet. And she is head over heels for Romeo. And she lets those feelings wash over her. Granted, as I learn more about her and the play, I'm starting to admire that she doesn't follow blindly and she isn't weak. She has several monologues in which she expresses this conflict of emotions--not wanting to be rash or make heat-of-the-moment decisions, but fighting all the passion inside her that she eventually just can't beat out. Dare I admit that I'm seeing more and more of myself on these pages..? Whether I like it or not, I completely understand Juliet. I relate to her because I've been there (both ten years and ten minutes ago). I just really, really don't want to go there. Acting can be dangerous in that way--because playing a part like this means opening up some areas that I'd prefer to keep shelved and allowing myself to live for a time in a mind-set that I don't necessarily want to define any other parts of my day. I've learned in the last couple of years that it is SOO important to train my acting in a healthy way. It is not ok to let myself go to a place, emotionally, mentally, physically, that I cannot handle or put away when I walk out of rehearsal. I don't want to dwell on love because it makes me think about all the difficulties I have defining the term for myself and dealing with its aftermath. Frankly, my brain is already over-worked with ponderings and theories, and I don't especially need to encourage it to meddle any more than necessary.
So I ask myself--why do even bother with this? How can I really think it's "fun" to emotionally rip open pieces of myself so that other people can watch me bleed?
What kind of sick freak am I?
But the answer is right in front of me. Do you remember "blood brothers"--the pact kids used to make with each other--before AIDS and disease told us that it wasn't ok--where they would prick or cut themselves and touch wounds so that the blood would mix? Acting is kind of like that. With a mask on. I've learned that mature, intentioned vulnerability is a way to blood-bond yourself with another. As scary as it may seem, admitting your inner thoughts and feelings often leads to a shared connection with another person--because they've likely felt the same way at one time or another. The two of you come together in a sigh of relief to discover that you are not alone. Acting is a kind of three-way blood brothers. Not only do I share red and white cells with my character, but I also mix those with the audience. It seems safer to emote when you can always use the excuse that it wasn't you, it was "the character." So playing Juliet means that I can experience her world from the safety of "it's just acting." I can lie to you, which I've of course already botched via this post, saying that I'm just pretending, but the safety gets all muddled here on the home-front where I am allowing myself to stand strong in the uncomfortable place of weakness--where emotions are vibrant and real and penetrating.
Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
But trust me gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
(Don't really get it? See the NoFear Shakespeare translation.)
Thus, I return to my studies--memorizing lines that I'm struggling to open my heart up to. Wish me luck.
Unlike some acting classes, though, the focus of this class is not to try something bizarre so that you milk a "good performance" from an otherwise archaic work...so that any random schmuck can forget that it's Shakespeare and buy into it--ie, making it "relevant." Instead, my professor discusses how Shakespeare should be honored for the verse it is--that by utilizing the style of Shakespearian theatre, infused with a genuine truth brought by the actor, you will achieve a good performance. In layman's terms this means that I can't dress up weird and do something "creative" (read: awkwardly different and flashy) to distract my 5-member audience from seeing that I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
At first, I was excited by the challenge. Then, my insecurities got the best of me: how in the world am I supposed to play this passionate, young lover, from the view through the smudgy-colored glasses I wear? Like most actors, I have my own blend of different acting methods, so when I approach a role, I pull a little bit from Stanislavski's emotional recall (which oversimplified is the idea that if you want to cry on stage, think about your dog dying in order to fake the emotion) and a bit more from Meisner's idea of being "in the moment" (kind of a form of elaborate "pretend"). Part of really putting myself into the shoes of another is thinking about the connections that I have with the character. For instance, if my character is dealing with a huge break-up, I think about times that I experienced something similar--maybe not the exact circumstances, but a time when I felt great loss. Through this, it becomes easy for me to convey how my character feels because I do understand it to a certain degree. A tangent that I'll leave for another day is the theory I have about how actors are always more messed up than normal people because we have to have experienced a lot of crazy crap in order to genuinely play different circumstances.
Digression aside, for me to play Juliet, the first step I take is to make myself a laundry list of all the obsessive "love" feelings that I've had--which is where this character becomes initially complicated. My pride does not let me admit that I have ever, nor do I currently, know what it's like to deal with being passionately "in love." A wise, but perhaps too honest, friend of mine once told me that it would take a while before I ever got into a relationship because I'm "jaded." I still don't really know what that means, but I assume he was referring to the fact that I hate all those mushy feelings and have spent my life training myself to ignore, suppress, nay, obliterate, any hint of "worldly" affection for a member of the opposite sex--the idea being that 1) these emotional feelings only lead to lust issues, dwelling on a man instead of God, and all sorts of other sin problems, and 2) as long as I'm not emotionally attached, they can't hurt me. The truth is, though, that I haven't always been as guarded as I would like and I can think of quite a few examples where my heart got involved and things got fuzzy, with pink (but never pulsating...) hearts, fireworks, weak at the knees, the whole nine yards. (Sorry to disappoint, but that laundry list isn't going to make the cut for publishing this post.) I don't like thinking about this stuff. It's depressing. It makes me want to vomit. That kind of emotion is the enemy!!
But I'm playing Juliet. And she is head over heels for Romeo. And she lets those feelings wash over her. Granted, as I learn more about her and the play, I'm starting to admire that she doesn't follow blindly and she isn't weak. She has several monologues in which she expresses this conflict of emotions--not wanting to be rash or make heat-of-the-moment decisions, but fighting all the passion inside her that she eventually just can't beat out. Dare I admit that I'm seeing more and more of myself on these pages..? Whether I like it or not, I completely understand Juliet. I relate to her because I've been there (both ten years and ten minutes ago). I just really, really don't want to go there. Acting can be dangerous in that way--because playing a part like this means opening up some areas that I'd prefer to keep shelved and allowing myself to live for a time in a mind-set that I don't necessarily want to define any other parts of my day. I've learned in the last couple of years that it is SOO important to train my acting in a healthy way. It is not ok to let myself go to a place, emotionally, mentally, physically, that I cannot handle or put away when I walk out of rehearsal. I don't want to dwell on love because it makes me think about all the difficulties I have defining the term for myself and dealing with its aftermath. Frankly, my brain is already over-worked with ponderings and theories, and I don't especially need to encourage it to meddle any more than necessary.
So I ask myself--why do even bother with this? How can I really think it's "fun" to emotionally rip open pieces of myself so that other people can watch me bleed?
What kind of sick freak am I?
But the answer is right in front of me. Do you remember "blood brothers"--the pact kids used to make with each other--before AIDS and disease told us that it wasn't ok--where they would prick or cut themselves and touch wounds so that the blood would mix? Acting is kind of like that. With a mask on. I've learned that mature, intentioned vulnerability is a way to blood-bond yourself with another. As scary as it may seem, admitting your inner thoughts and feelings often leads to a shared connection with another person--because they've likely felt the same way at one time or another. The two of you come together in a sigh of relief to discover that you are not alone. Acting is a kind of three-way blood brothers. Not only do I share red and white cells with my character, but I also mix those with the audience. It seems safer to emote when you can always use the excuse that it wasn't you, it was "the character." So playing Juliet means that I can experience her world from the safety of "it's just acting." I can lie to you, which I've of course already botched via this post, saying that I'm just pretending, but the safety gets all muddled here on the home-front where I am allowing myself to stand strong in the uncomfortable place of weakness--where emotions are vibrant and real and penetrating.
Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
But trust me gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
(Don't really get it? See the NoFear Shakespeare translation.)
Thus, I return to my studies--memorizing lines that I'm struggling to open my heart up to. Wish me luck.
Friday, October 13, 2006
When a nice evening of musical entertainment turns into prostitution (read on, Mom, before you flip out)
Tonight I went to Ground Zero (SC's "cool" and "artsy" coffee house...they do have good milkshakes though) to see Daphne Loves Derby play. Apparently the Laguna spin-off characters, or their producers, from MTV's "The Hills" also wanted to watch DLD, Quiet Drive or one of the other two bands that played. Well one thing led to another and I found myself sitting on a couch near enough to them that I may actually be in the background of a future episode. So for any of you that watch that garbage, let me know if you see me. Which I'm sure you'll be eager to do, now that you know how it will lower my opinion of you...
Anyways, I was kind of frustrated by the whole ordeal, partly because the cameras were in my way and I was distracted with trying to figure out what exactly they were filming, but mostly because it just seemed soo LA. I wanted to vomit. Who were these random, over-made-up kids? I got all uppity-artsy thinking about how at the very same time across campus, real actors were performing Cabaret. Alas, I'll refrain from that tirade.
Still, it's easy to let living in LA kind of get to me. I go through phases where I think that pursuing an acting career would be really exciting. Of course, I don't mean reality TV, but like legitimate acting work. Then another part of me revolts against this idea, assuming that any sort of theatrical career would completely disqualify me to serve in the church. I can't seem to figure out why it is that acting and church seem to be at such odds. The response I usually get to this is something to the effect of, "maybe God can use your acting skills within the church." But I don't want to be resigned to cheesy church plays. In fact...that induces about the same response as tonight's MTV experience. I realize that the assertion is good-natured, but I've just seen so many terrible attempts of the church to adopt popular culture, a season or two late, and I'd hate to see my art lumped into that collection of feces.
It should be interesting to see where my life takes me. I do miss Texas. I miss life being a bit quieter. But I'm enjoying the adventure that is my life right now. I love my family here and all the cool things I've gotten to experience.
Really I guess the only reason I'm kind of irritated right now is that tonight's ordeal wasn't really prostitution...cuz I didn't actually get paid..
Anyways, I was kind of frustrated by the whole ordeal, partly because the cameras were in my way and I was distracted with trying to figure out what exactly they were filming, but mostly because it just seemed soo LA. I wanted to vomit. Who were these random, over-made-up kids? I got all uppity-artsy thinking about how at the very same time across campus, real actors were performing Cabaret. Alas, I'll refrain from that tirade.
Still, it's easy to let living in LA kind of get to me. I go through phases where I think that pursuing an acting career would be really exciting. Of course, I don't mean reality TV, but like legitimate acting work. Then another part of me revolts against this idea, assuming that any sort of theatrical career would completely disqualify me to serve in the church. I can't seem to figure out why it is that acting and church seem to be at such odds. The response I usually get to this is something to the effect of, "maybe God can use your acting skills within the church." But I don't want to be resigned to cheesy church plays. In fact...that induces about the same response as tonight's MTV experience. I realize that the assertion is good-natured, but I've just seen so many terrible attempts of the church to adopt popular culture, a season or two late, and I'd hate to see my art lumped into that collection of feces.
It should be interesting to see where my life takes me. I do miss Texas. I miss life being a bit quieter. But I'm enjoying the adventure that is my life right now. I love my family here and all the cool things I've gotten to experience.
Really I guess the only reason I'm kind of irritated right now is that tonight's ordeal wasn't really prostitution...cuz I didn't actually get paid..
Saturday, October 07, 2006
What about cheating?
I just got back from seeing The Last Kiss with Zach Braff, one of those movies that brings up all sorts of questions that you don't really want to think about. Hence, here comes another pensive post.
The movie deals with relationships--marriages of both young and old, ones with children involved, serious dating relationships...all of which are moving through some sort of crisis. Braff's character finds himself tempted to cheat on his girlfriend, who will soon also be the mother of his kid. Watching, I found myself hoping for certain outcomes for each of the characters--all of which forced me to deal with the movie's central question: what about cheating? At what point do you define "crossing" that line, and which lines are forgivable, and can you ever forgive or should you forgive?
As one of the few 20 years olds that I know who actually thinks that she's ready to get married, I know what a scary thing it is that I'm claiming. Am I really ready to be married? And if I'm just kidding myself on this whole maturity thing that I think I see in me, when will I really be "grown up" enough to make that kind of commitment? I've never been impressed enough by a guy to let him have more than two months, and lately two dates. I can't even stick to a hair color. I've never been in love or let someone get close enough to hurt me, so I don't know how I'm supposed to make that jump into "till death do us part." And the closest I know to cheating, was my sophomore year of high school, when my boyfriend cheated on me with one of my best friends. At that point in the relationship though, I was already over it anyway--I knew a week beforehand that it was over, so when he actually broke up with me, I didn't cry. I didn't care. But what you sign up for in a real relationship, and what you bind yourself into, under God, the state, and everyone else, when you get married, is a lot of pain along with the good. The moment you let someone in, you make a choice to be vulnerable--and a choice to allow that person to hurt you in the deepest ways. Loving someone is allowing them to hurt you, and hoping that they won't. But they will.
So many people, myself included, want to be perfect--or at least perfect for someone out there. But the reality is, I won't ever be even adequate for someone else. And if I get married, he's going to get bored with me or annoyed or something...and he'll start looking elsewhere. There's a part of me that thinks that I'm going to somehow beat this by being whatever it is that all of those women who get cheated on aren't--as if it was something that they didn't do enough of, or something they did too much, that made their man cheat. I have to figure these things out so that I can keep him so happy that he wouldn't even consider looking elsewhere. The truth that I don't want to consider is that it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't be enough. Which I'm sure isn't going to feel so great. Still, I feel like I'll be able to get through that kind of hurt. I may not understand exactly what it would mean to be cheated on in a real way, but I do know a thing or two about pain, and I think I'll be able to forgive. Sure, it's going to be really hard to heal my damaged pride and broken heart, but I've done it before. I know hurt, and I know where to take it, how to find healing.
The kind of hurt that I'm more scared of is the pain that comes if he's not the one in the relationship who screws it up. What if I do somehow end up with this incredible man that I think I'm looking for--and what if he is faithful enough to say no every single time that he's tempted? How do you come to someone so good...and tell him that you've done something so cruel? My morbid side uses this as a motivation to stay away from any guy with a shred of decency--as if I'm going to ruin him or something. That part's scary.
So now I start to wonder if getting married would just be selfish of me. I would be willing to marry a man that I loved, even if you were to tell me that he would cheat on me in the future. But if you were to let me know that I would cheat on him, I wouldn't be able to do go through with the marriage. I guess that's why it's good that I don't know the future, so I don't preemptively cop-out.
I still think marriage is going to be worth it. Despite all the ways it can and will go wrong, I think it's worth it to try. These are the kinds of hard times that I want to grow through. Like all the cliche's say, it's those bad times that make the good ones so sweet, and it's better to have lots of pain and the opportunity for joy than lead a safe, but boring life. Maybe marriage really isn't natural--something out of whack with our animalistic side--but I think it's a commitment worth making. And when I get to the point where I think I want out, where it's boring or annoying, I hope to God that I push through it--that He'll give me the strength to hold on to what I promised. Maybe part of the joy comes in knowing what it's like to suffer through the hard stuff and come out again on the other side. After 20 or 30 or 50 years together, you really understand the beauty of the sun, and it's something the two of you share because you discovered it together. Maybe that's worth it.
The movie deals with relationships--marriages of both young and old, ones with children involved, serious dating relationships...all of which are moving through some sort of crisis. Braff's character finds himself tempted to cheat on his girlfriend, who will soon also be the mother of his kid. Watching, I found myself hoping for certain outcomes for each of the characters--all of which forced me to deal with the movie's central question: what about cheating? At what point do you define "crossing" that line, and which lines are forgivable, and can you ever forgive or should you forgive?
As one of the few 20 years olds that I know who actually thinks that she's ready to get married, I know what a scary thing it is that I'm claiming. Am I really ready to be married? And if I'm just kidding myself on this whole maturity thing that I think I see in me, when will I really be "grown up" enough to make that kind of commitment? I've never been impressed enough by a guy to let him have more than two months, and lately two dates. I can't even stick to a hair color. I've never been in love or let someone get close enough to hurt me, so I don't know how I'm supposed to make that jump into "till death do us part." And the closest I know to cheating, was my sophomore year of high school, when my boyfriend cheated on me with one of my best friends. At that point in the relationship though, I was already over it anyway--I knew a week beforehand that it was over, so when he actually broke up with me, I didn't cry. I didn't care. But what you sign up for in a real relationship, and what you bind yourself into, under God, the state, and everyone else, when you get married, is a lot of pain along with the good. The moment you let someone in, you make a choice to be vulnerable--and a choice to allow that person to hurt you in the deepest ways. Loving someone is allowing them to hurt you, and hoping that they won't. But they will.
So many people, myself included, want to be perfect--or at least perfect for someone out there. But the reality is, I won't ever be even adequate for someone else. And if I get married, he's going to get bored with me or annoyed or something...and he'll start looking elsewhere. There's a part of me that thinks that I'm going to somehow beat this by being whatever it is that all of those women who get cheated on aren't--as if it was something that they didn't do enough of, or something they did too much, that made their man cheat. I have to figure these things out so that I can keep him so happy that he wouldn't even consider looking elsewhere. The truth that I don't want to consider is that it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't be enough. Which I'm sure isn't going to feel so great. Still, I feel like I'll be able to get through that kind of hurt. I may not understand exactly what it would mean to be cheated on in a real way, but I do know a thing or two about pain, and I think I'll be able to forgive. Sure, it's going to be really hard to heal my damaged pride and broken heart, but I've done it before. I know hurt, and I know where to take it, how to find healing.
The kind of hurt that I'm more scared of is the pain that comes if he's not the one in the relationship who screws it up. What if I do somehow end up with this incredible man that I think I'm looking for--and what if he is faithful enough to say no every single time that he's tempted? How do you come to someone so good...and tell him that you've done something so cruel? My morbid side uses this as a motivation to stay away from any guy with a shred of decency--as if I'm going to ruin him or something. That part's scary.
So now I start to wonder if getting married would just be selfish of me. I would be willing to marry a man that I loved, even if you were to tell me that he would cheat on me in the future. But if you were to let me know that I would cheat on him, I wouldn't be able to do go through with the marriage. I guess that's why it's good that I don't know the future, so I don't preemptively cop-out.
I still think marriage is going to be worth it. Despite all the ways it can and will go wrong, I think it's worth it to try. These are the kinds of hard times that I want to grow through. Like all the cliche's say, it's those bad times that make the good ones so sweet, and it's better to have lots of pain and the opportunity for joy than lead a safe, but boring life. Maybe marriage really isn't natural--something out of whack with our animalistic side--but I think it's a commitment worth making. And when I get to the point where I think I want out, where it's boring or annoying, I hope to God that I push through it--that He'll give me the strength to hold on to what I promised. Maybe part of the joy comes in knowing what it's like to suffer through the hard stuff and come out again on the other side. After 20 or 30 or 50 years together, you really understand the beauty of the sun, and it's something the two of you share because you discovered it together. Maybe that's worth it.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Is it Possible That I Have Life All Figured Out...Or Has Optimism Devoured a Chunk of my Brain?
This is it. I think I finally hit on something here. I mean, I might be able to retire from the blogosphere due to the brilliance of what I am about to tell you.
Ok maybe not...but I did have another one of my episodes--an "epiphany" of sorts, which I put in quotes because these theories, thoughts, or whatever you want to call them strike me with momentary brilliance like some sort of epileptic seizure. (I'm pretty sure the scientific inaccuracy of that analogy completely disqualifies me from any claim to being politically correct; thus, I beg your forgiveness.)
So let's get to the root of all of this: I'm going to blameshift a bit via citing the sources that motivated my recent ponderings. First is Brian Colmery, 1/2 of the Shoreline Pastor Team and recently discovered master of the balance beam. In yesterday's sermon, the point he made that struck the deepest in me was the idea (which if you listen to his articulation of this concept will make much more sense) that we, humans, prefer to control our own lives as much as possible. Now if you really think about this, it's kind of a dumb idea because we aren't so much in charge of the universe, but we still try to direct our own story as much as possible. Hold this thought as we move to culprit number two: Chrissie Wanke. I call her into question since she heads up our Monday night Bible study. Really, the entire group might be to blame, but it was Chrissie that posed again to us the question Colmery asked from atop a makeshift gymnastics beam: what is it you worry about? What are you trying to control? Where aside from God do you seek security?
Huh...well my mind immediately goes to the two big daddy's: money and men (this really ought to read money and boys, but I felt like working the two M's bit, at the cost of suggesting actual maturity in the males I deal with) I listened to the sermon again this morning in order to prepare for what we might discuss tonight, and I really tried to think about where I seek security. I came to a roadblock. Money? Well...I seemed ok with everything this summer, even though things were a bit tight. But now that I'm a little more financially comfortable, I wonder if I seek security in this. Granted, this is coming from the girl who thinks it would be fun to pack my stuff in a storage unit come my August graduation and just be homeless for a little while because it would be cool to see God really give me this day my daily bread. Contemplating the irresponsibility involved and the fact that this might be testing God in the same way that Satan asks Jesus to jump off a building so the angels can catch him, I probably will not follow through. But I digress...money doesn't seem like a big deal to me because I know that I'll be able to figure things out if push comes to shove (and by "I" what I really mean is God working in me). If money runs out, I'll get a job. If I can't make rent, I'll live in a crappier apartment. This seems so simple to me because I know that if things start to get hard, God will either pull me through or teach me to readjust my means. Non-issue.
I explained this tonight to the girls. Then in classic Meredith fashion, I plowed into my next topic without filtering it through any sort of thought process. What came into my head then directly out of my mouth was this: I don't really think I struggle with trying to control the guy thing. And I don't know if that's because I've somewhere along the line genuinely learned to trust God for that or if I just finally realized that I never had control to begin with (girl's don't pursue, right?) so it was less about "giving it to God" and more about facing the facts. And is thinking about boys all the time the same thing as trying to control that area of my life?
The conversation moved on, but my mind kept working these things out. What do I really seek to control? Where do I find security? Earlier today at work I was teaching my students how to solve basic algebraic equations. I tried to explain that the concept itself was simple. Yes, they will eventually get to much more complicated problems that look harder and take more time, but the basic idea of solving for "x" will be the same every time. Remembering this after Bible study, I felt like I had stumbled upon the secret of life. What if all of this really is that simple. x + 4 = 7, therefore x = 3. I never have to stress because God has it figured out. I mean, isn't this really what Paul means when he says in Philippians not to be anxious about anything? In a way, life really is that simple. Even though it's not. A blanket statement like that obviously begs all sorts of questions: what is the difference between being anxious, cautious, apathetic, or hard working? How do you know where God is leading you in life? Can you trust emotions? And so on and so on.
So I started to break things down: first with money. God's provided in the past. I have never starved. I fully trust that some sort of paycheck or kind gift will get me through if I find myself in a bind. This one may actually be the easiest to dismiss.
Second, what do I want to be when I grow up? Apparently I'm supposed to grow up next August when I graduate from SC. However, what I've come to realize, which is now the "it" idea moving through campuses nationwide, is that it's ok not to have life figured out when you graduate. I can pick different types of careers and jobs--do one thing for a while and switch around as I feel God leading. Granted, I'll have bills to pay, but this goes back to point number one.
Now there's only one big issue that could trump all of these: boys. Anyone who's read five lines of anything I've written can tell that this may very well be the most vulnerable area of my life, and Satan's sweet spot when he wants to take me out of the game. I willingly admit, if I've got control issues, or any other issues for that matter, they probably factor in somehow to the way I view men. But even here, things seem kind of simple. Actually, I recently started a draft of a post that I had titled "Am I Really Still Looking?" where I discuss the simplicity of finding a husband. Literally. I'm working through the idea that I may have dating down to an art. There is a short list of men that I could name right now that I would marry on the spot if they asked me to meet them at the courthouse (provided I knew where it was). I even made myself an acronym to describe such a match, which also serves to prove my fluency in Christianese and all things cheesy: ChAP, which stands for character, attraction, and pursuit. The idea goes that when I find a man of genuine, Godly character (this of course requires some further definition which I won't get into now), who I am attracted to and compatible with, and who pursues a relationship with me, then I am ready to marry him. I know that this makes quite a few people either roll their eyes and pity my innocence or want to stone me for suggesting that it's so easy. And really, I understand that it's not. But maybe it is. I mean, I would eventually like to marry and have a family. I think many of my motivations may actually be pure in this: I want to be able to serve and love another person within the intimacy that only a husband and wife can share. I'd like to raise my children in a Godly, loving home. And I hope to minister to other women in many different life stages and know how God can uniquely minister to His people with my husband and I as a unit, instead of two individuals. Knowing this, knowing what it means to have Godly character, and knowing (though this may be where my process is least evolved) when I am attracted to someone, it seems that taking the leap into a marriage isn't so scary. The thing is--and this is where everything ties together--you learn as you go. Follow God. Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you...just like the verse, just like the song. I already know that marriage will have ups and downs, and some really difficult downs at that, but I also know that it is a commitment I want to make when I find someone worth making that commitment to (and believe me, if you had any idea the kinds of men on my list, you wouldn't worry about me jumping into things too fast). In marriage, you commit to another person what is also a commitment to God, and if you follow Him, He provides security. In jobs and money, you follow God, and He provides security. Follow God, get security. Done and done.
Now, in light of this intensive rant, I almost feel the need to add a paragraph in which I confess all of my deep, dirty sins, lest any of my readers be tempted to think that I am somehow SuperChristianGirl. I have for sure got plenty of yuck in my life. And I can very clearly attest to the fact that life isn't simple when you break it down. I'm still learning all of this, and trying to remember who God is, compared to me, so that my pride won't explode out of control. There's lots of question-begging that I'm sure will fill pages and pages of blog posts in the years to come, and I know I'll probably do all sorts of stupid things that completely contradict what I've written. I'll likely go out with a few more schmucks before I get married and have a break-down over financial issues. This is why I like the Shoreline Women's mantra: the pursuit of progress, not perfection. Yet, I actually find some comfort in knowing that the big picture isn't so complicated after all, especially if you are God and your thinking far surpasses that of any human.
I think God finds my blog kind of funny.
Ok maybe not...but I did have another one of my episodes--an "epiphany" of sorts, which I put in quotes because these theories, thoughts, or whatever you want to call them strike me with momentary brilliance like some sort of epileptic seizure. (I'm pretty sure the scientific inaccuracy of that analogy completely disqualifies me from any claim to being politically correct; thus, I beg your forgiveness.)
So let's get to the root of all of this: I'm going to blameshift a bit via citing the sources that motivated my recent ponderings. First is Brian Colmery, 1/2 of the Shoreline Pastor Team and recently discovered master of the balance beam. In yesterday's sermon, the point he made that struck the deepest in me was the idea (which if you listen to his articulation of this concept will make much more sense) that we, humans, prefer to control our own lives as much as possible. Now if you really think about this, it's kind of a dumb idea because we aren't so much in charge of the universe, but we still try to direct our own story as much as possible. Hold this thought as we move to culprit number two: Chrissie Wanke. I call her into question since she heads up our Monday night Bible study. Really, the entire group might be to blame, but it was Chrissie that posed again to us the question Colmery asked from atop a makeshift gymnastics beam: what is it you worry about? What are you trying to control? Where aside from God do you seek security?
Huh...well my mind immediately goes to the two big daddy's: money and men (this really ought to read money and boys, but I felt like working the two M's bit, at the cost of suggesting actual maturity in the males I deal with) I listened to the sermon again this morning in order to prepare for what we might discuss tonight, and I really tried to think about where I seek security. I came to a roadblock. Money? Well...I seemed ok with everything this summer, even though things were a bit tight. But now that I'm a little more financially comfortable, I wonder if I seek security in this. Granted, this is coming from the girl who thinks it would be fun to pack my stuff in a storage unit come my August graduation and just be homeless for a little while because it would be cool to see God really give me this day my daily bread. Contemplating the irresponsibility involved and the fact that this might be testing God in the same way that Satan asks Jesus to jump off a building so the angels can catch him, I probably will not follow through. But I digress...money doesn't seem like a big deal to me because I know that I'll be able to figure things out if push comes to shove (and by "I" what I really mean is God working in me). If money runs out, I'll get a job. If I can't make rent, I'll live in a crappier apartment. This seems so simple to me because I know that if things start to get hard, God will either pull me through or teach me to readjust my means. Non-issue.
I explained this tonight to the girls. Then in classic Meredith fashion, I plowed into my next topic without filtering it through any sort of thought process. What came into my head then directly out of my mouth was this: I don't really think I struggle with trying to control the guy thing. And I don't know if that's because I've somewhere along the line genuinely learned to trust God for that or if I just finally realized that I never had control to begin with (girl's don't pursue, right?) so it was less about "giving it to God" and more about facing the facts. And is thinking about boys all the time the same thing as trying to control that area of my life?
The conversation moved on, but my mind kept working these things out. What do I really seek to control? Where do I find security? Earlier today at work I was teaching my students how to solve basic algebraic equations. I tried to explain that the concept itself was simple. Yes, they will eventually get to much more complicated problems that look harder and take more time, but the basic idea of solving for "x" will be the same every time. Remembering this after Bible study, I felt like I had stumbled upon the secret of life. What if all of this really is that simple. x + 4 = 7, therefore x = 3. I never have to stress because God has it figured out. I mean, isn't this really what Paul means when he says in Philippians not to be anxious about anything? In a way, life really is that simple. Even though it's not. A blanket statement like that obviously begs all sorts of questions: what is the difference between being anxious, cautious, apathetic, or hard working? How do you know where God is leading you in life? Can you trust emotions? And so on and so on.
So I started to break things down: first with money. God's provided in the past. I have never starved. I fully trust that some sort of paycheck or kind gift will get me through if I find myself in a bind. This one may actually be the easiest to dismiss.
Second, what do I want to be when I grow up? Apparently I'm supposed to grow up next August when I graduate from SC. However, what I've come to realize, which is now the "it" idea moving through campuses nationwide, is that it's ok not to have life figured out when you graduate. I can pick different types of careers and jobs--do one thing for a while and switch around as I feel God leading. Granted, I'll have bills to pay, but this goes back to point number one.
Now there's only one big issue that could trump all of these: boys. Anyone who's read five lines of anything I've written can tell that this may very well be the most vulnerable area of my life, and Satan's sweet spot when he wants to take me out of the game. I willingly admit, if I've got control issues, or any other issues for that matter, they probably factor in somehow to the way I view men. But even here, things seem kind of simple. Actually, I recently started a draft of a post that I had titled "Am I Really Still Looking?" where I discuss the simplicity of finding a husband. Literally. I'm working through the idea that I may have dating down to an art. There is a short list of men that I could name right now that I would marry on the spot if they asked me to meet them at the courthouse (provided I knew where it was). I even made myself an acronym to describe such a match, which also serves to prove my fluency in Christianese and all things cheesy: ChAP, which stands for character, attraction, and pursuit. The idea goes that when I find a man of genuine, Godly character (this of course requires some further definition which I won't get into now), who I am attracted to and compatible with, and who pursues a relationship with me, then I am ready to marry him. I know that this makes quite a few people either roll their eyes and pity my innocence or want to stone me for suggesting that it's so easy. And really, I understand that it's not. But maybe it is. I mean, I would eventually like to marry and have a family. I think many of my motivations may actually be pure in this: I want to be able to serve and love another person within the intimacy that only a husband and wife can share. I'd like to raise my children in a Godly, loving home. And I hope to minister to other women in many different life stages and know how God can uniquely minister to His people with my husband and I as a unit, instead of two individuals. Knowing this, knowing what it means to have Godly character, and knowing (though this may be where my process is least evolved) when I am attracted to someone, it seems that taking the leap into a marriage isn't so scary. The thing is--and this is where everything ties together--you learn as you go. Follow God. Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you...just like the verse, just like the song. I already know that marriage will have ups and downs, and some really difficult downs at that, but I also know that it is a commitment I want to make when I find someone worth making that commitment to (and believe me, if you had any idea the kinds of men on my list, you wouldn't worry about me jumping into things too fast). In marriage, you commit to another person what is also a commitment to God, and if you follow Him, He provides security. In jobs and money, you follow God, and He provides security. Follow God, get security. Done and done.
Now, in light of this intensive rant, I almost feel the need to add a paragraph in which I confess all of my deep, dirty sins, lest any of my readers be tempted to think that I am somehow SuperChristianGirl. I have for sure got plenty of yuck in my life. And I can very clearly attest to the fact that life isn't simple when you break it down. I'm still learning all of this, and trying to remember who God is, compared to me, so that my pride won't explode out of control. There's lots of question-begging that I'm sure will fill pages and pages of blog posts in the years to come, and I know I'll probably do all sorts of stupid things that completely contradict what I've written. I'll likely go out with a few more schmucks before I get married and have a break-down over financial issues. This is why I like the Shoreline Women's mantra: the pursuit of progress, not perfection. Yet, I actually find some comfort in knowing that the big picture isn't so complicated after all, especially if you are God and your thinking far surpasses that of any human.
I think God finds my blog kind of funny.
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