I must start by reassuring you that, yes, I do pay attention during sermons. However, I have been blessed by a multitrack, extremely active mind, which listens better when engaged in multiple cognitive processes.
So...here are a few of the random thoughts that accompanied a sermon on Mark 15:33-47. Some are related to the sermon topic, some are not.
..."'leave me alone' is the one thing you never want to pray." All control-based alternatives seem to be cut off. No, "this is what you should do for me," and no, "leave me alone." Drat.
...When Sohrab in The Kite Runner film says he doesn't want his parents to see him because "[He's] so dirty," that's kind of like us being afraid to seek God until we straighten out. And probably just as heartbreaking to God as the line is to moviegoers.
...If it's easy to explain/understand God and the concept of regenesis, we must be painting too small and limited a picture.
...Every novel, from Paradise Lost and The Two Towers to The Picture of Dorian Gray has an element of His story and Truth.
...We all secretly desire truth, accuracy. It matters to us to correct errors and falsity: that's why Wikipedia works.
...As little as we like "the media" these days, imagine if they didn't exist and no one told you what was going on. Re: The Sky Unwashed about the government concealing Chernobyl.
...Writing is my pensieve.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Finally hit level 49 on Free Rice. Read "The Sky Unwashed" by Zabytko, "The Inheritance" by Alcott, and "The Awakening" by Chopin. Now starting "Speak Rwanda" by Pierce and "Falling Man" by DeLillo. Applied for a job with PR Newswire. Watched the DVD of "Jekyll and Hyde." Was served by "Jesus" at an ice cream shop.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The mystery of contra dancers
As I have for the last month and a half, I went contra dancing yesterday. I was faced with a question that has puzzled my mind since the first time I went, back in December:
Why are contra dancers so happy?
I sat out one dance, and the girl sitting beside me started talking. She had come with a summer school class and thought it was a great place to have fun and meet a lot of people.
I was in "hands four" with another new dancer when she remarked, "This is the most welcoming group of people I have ever met." I had to agree.
Another man I danced with told me that his partner had recently dubbed him "the happiest person in the room," but that he was passing the title on to me. For those of you who know me - somewhat a pessimist and not too quick to show emotion - his comment sounds a little bizarre.
I have been to quite a few different dance communities in the last four years. Some are reserved, some elegant, some enthusiastic, some relaxed. Although I have been welcomed at all, and have come to feel accepted, it took time. Not so here.
It could be true simply of my particular contra group. But I have been to another group once, and the same thing was true. All across the Internet are stories like mine. This blog post expresses the same.
But why? Does contra dancing attract cheerful people, or does it make them? I would say the latter. Here are a few thoughts on why:
1. You don't need a partner. It is expected that you change partners every dance, so even if you sit out one dance, you are almost certain to dance the next.
2. You have to make eye contact in order to keep from getting dizzy. After staring at a perfect stranger halfway down the hall, it's hard not to laugh at your own awkwardness.
3. Everyone is equal on the dance floor. Some people add more fancy spins or an extra strut, but you're all following the same steps. There are no star performers.
4. Everyone makes mistakes. Even the caller sometimes skips a measure, and bumping into people or missing a turn on a "hey for four" is just an excuse for a good laugh.
5. You will sweat, and it's okay; no one cares, because they're sweating too.
6. Every generation is represented. Older folks show the younger ones, parents bring their little children, college and high school students come en masse.
7. Groups are dissolved. There is no room or time for cliques. Someone will bump into you during an enthusiastic swing, and the group will be no more - they'll probably all be dancing in different parts of the room.
8. Goofiness is totally acceptable - the more the merrier. Showing off is not competition, it's a chance to watch someone else collide with the caller and ruefully settle to a quieter pace.
9. The music is foot-tapping, swirl-your-skirts fun, and usually live.
10. And overall, there is a general lack of taking oneself seriously. See this introduction to contra dance for a good example of the tone.
Addicting? Smile-producing? Yes. Find your own. Or come to mine!
Why are contra dancers so happy?
I sat out one dance, and the girl sitting beside me started talking. She had come with a summer school class and thought it was a great place to have fun and meet a lot of people.
I was in "hands four" with another new dancer when she remarked, "This is the most welcoming group of people I have ever met." I had to agree.
Another man I danced with told me that his partner had recently dubbed him "the happiest person in the room," but that he was passing the title on to me. For those of you who know me - somewhat a pessimist and not too quick to show emotion - his comment sounds a little bizarre.
I have been to quite a few different dance communities in the last four years. Some are reserved, some elegant, some enthusiastic, some relaxed. Although I have been welcomed at all, and have come to feel accepted, it took time. Not so here.
It could be true simply of my particular contra group. But I have been to another group once, and the same thing was true. All across the Internet are stories like mine. This blog post expresses the same.
But why? Does contra dancing attract cheerful people, or does it make them? I would say the latter. Here are a few thoughts on why:
1. You don't need a partner. It is expected that you change partners every dance, so even if you sit out one dance, you are almost certain to dance the next.
2. You have to make eye contact in order to keep from getting dizzy. After staring at a perfect stranger halfway down the hall, it's hard not to laugh at your own awkwardness.
3. Everyone is equal on the dance floor. Some people add more fancy spins or an extra strut, but you're all following the same steps. There are no star performers.
4. Everyone makes mistakes. Even the caller sometimes skips a measure, and bumping into people or missing a turn on a "hey for four" is just an excuse for a good laugh.
5. You will sweat, and it's okay; no one cares, because they're sweating too.
6. Every generation is represented. Older folks show the younger ones, parents bring their little children, college and high school students come en masse.
7. Groups are dissolved. There is no room or time for cliques. Someone will bump into you during an enthusiastic swing, and the group will be no more - they'll probably all be dancing in different parts of the room.
8. Goofiness is totally acceptable - the more the merrier. Showing off is not competition, it's a chance to watch someone else collide with the caller and ruefully settle to a quieter pace.
9. The music is foot-tapping, swirl-your-skirts fun, and usually live.
10. And overall, there is a general lack of taking oneself seriously. See this introduction to contra dance for a good example of the tone.
Addicting? Smile-producing? Yes. Find your own. Or come to mine!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Real post coming soon, I promise. Now reading "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin. Finally finished "A Connecticut Yankee." First rejection from editing job at UVA. Bummer. Bridal shower this weekend. Re-watched "The Kite Runner" film. Powerful - so powerful.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Applied for an assistant editor position at UVA's Iris Magazine. Saw "The Incredible Hulk" last night. Now seriously looking at grad schools for PhD in English Literature or American Studies.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Applied to a fiction editorial assistant position at Bethany House Publishers. Now reading "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court," by Twain.
A different kind of resume
Try #2, after Blogger shut down without saving my draft.
What with all the decisions about jobs, internships, and reapplying to grad schools, I have found myself thinking a lot about resumes. What would a resume look like if it was comprised solely of skills that correspond to my interests? Here's what I think it might look like:
Organizing things
Recently spent three hours alphabetizing list of books read in the last eight years. Maintains seasonal organization of clothing. Workstation is covered with post-it notes and to-do lists.
Writing random things
Has written and maintained five blogs. Specialized in mass emails telling quirky stories about college life and studying abroad.
Creating parodies of poems, quotations, and writing styles
Rewrote "The Night Before Christmas," "I heard the bells," selections from Shakespeare, and "The Tiger." Drafted a letter to evict college housemates using legal jargon and style.
Helping confused people
Served as a parking attendent at local functions. Assisted students with sending their papers to the appropriate printer. Gave visiting parents directions to appropriate campus buildings. Handled customer service at home school bookfairs.
Editing for good writers
Regularly marks typographical or grammatical errors in personal copies of textbooks and mass market periodicals. Known as the "comma police" and resident expert in obscure questions about grammar, punctuation, and spelling.
Formatting things
Recreated an electronic copy of an out-of-print mock trial guide. Standardized format for study and assignment guides written by five different authors. Known for spending excess amounts of time on the details of an assignment before beginning the actual work. Hates "widows" and "orphans" in documents. Will re-edit blog posts multiple times to avoid hanging lines.
Tweaking pictures
Used basic photo software to add color to black-and-white images, edit, crop, and add elements to scenic photographs. Particularly specialized in adding people and switching elements in the picture to create an abstract effect.
Reading books
Completed a 40-60 book reading list every summer since 2004. Received a B.A. in English. Had memberships at and regularly frequented four-six different libraries since 1994.
Reading out loud
Recites memorized passages from Shakespeare while exercising. Aspires to work in Reader's Theater at some point. Enjoys reading Shakespeare and Paradise Lost out loud when no one is home.
Learning...especially bizarre things
Learned elvish and translated several poems from Lord of the Rings. Took macroeconomics for fun. Enjoyed general education classes. Checks out non-fiction books from the library during the summer. Knows how to change a water filter. Wants to learn about car engines. Enjoys following skilled people around. Concurrently considered five different college majors.
...And I could probably come up with more. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of entry level jobs that match that set of skills/interests.
I guess there's always "Clean Sweep" or "Beauty and the Geek," right?
What with all the decisions about jobs, internships, and reapplying to grad schools, I have found myself thinking a lot about resumes. What would a resume look like if it was comprised solely of skills that correspond to my interests? Here's what I think it might look like:
Organizing things
Recently spent three hours alphabetizing list of books read in the last eight years. Maintains seasonal organization of clothing. Workstation is covered with post-it notes and to-do lists.
Writing random things
Has written and maintained five blogs. Specialized in mass emails telling quirky stories about college life and studying abroad.
Creating parodies of poems, quotations, and writing styles
Rewrote "The Night Before Christmas," "I heard the bells," selections from Shakespeare, and "The Tiger." Drafted a letter to evict college housemates using legal jargon and style.
Helping confused people
Served as a parking attendent at local functions. Assisted students with sending their papers to the appropriate printer. Gave visiting parents directions to appropriate campus buildings. Handled customer service at home school bookfairs.
Editing for good writers
Regularly marks typographical or grammatical errors in personal copies of textbooks and mass market periodicals. Known as the "comma police" and resident expert in obscure questions about grammar, punctuation, and spelling.
Formatting things
Recreated an electronic copy of an out-of-print mock trial guide. Standardized format for study and assignment guides written by five different authors. Known for spending excess amounts of time on the details of an assignment before beginning the actual work. Hates "widows" and "orphans" in documents. Will re-edit blog posts multiple times to avoid hanging lines.
Tweaking pictures
Used basic photo software to add color to black-and-white images, edit, crop, and add elements to scenic photographs. Particularly specialized in adding people and switching elements in the picture to create an abstract effect.
Reading books
Completed a 40-60 book reading list every summer since 2004. Received a B.A. in English. Had memberships at and regularly frequented four-six different libraries since 1994.
Reading out loud
Recites memorized passages from Shakespeare while exercising. Aspires to work in Reader's Theater at some point. Enjoys reading Shakespeare and Paradise Lost out loud when no one is home.
Learning...especially bizarre things
Learned elvish and translated several poems from Lord of the Rings. Took macroeconomics for fun. Enjoyed general education classes. Checks out non-fiction books from the library during the summer. Knows how to change a water filter. Wants to learn about car engines. Enjoys following skilled people around. Concurrently considered five different college majors.
...And I could probably come up with more. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of entry level jobs that match that set of skills/interests.
I guess there's always "Clean Sweep" or "Beauty and the Geek," right?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Just finished reading "Mostly Harmless," the sixth and final part of Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide trilogy in five parts. Also finished "The Bean Trees," by Barbara Kingsolver. Two pages left to go in the prologue of "Nouvelles histoires extraordinaires," by Poe (in French). Just finished memorizing Imogen's 42-line speech in Act 3, Scene 4 of "Cymbeline." Applied to a job at Tyndale House Publishers near Chicago.
Monday, June 16, 2008
In the middle of a lot of superglue
Did you ever have a doll or action figure that came with a hat or helmet? I'm not sure if it is a child's propensity for destruction or the sense of mystery that pervades anything hidden. I do know that as a child, I was bound to remove all accessories from my toys.
Unfortunately, when a riding helmet is superglued onto a doll's head, removing it has the same essential effect as scalping. Not a pretty sight, and colored pencil can only do so much to repair the damage.
I promise, there is a reason for this story.
I went to a swing dance on Saturday night. I knew a few people, from my contra dance group, but not many. The group was almost completely bisected into newbies and experts. Unfortunately, I didn't fit into either group. As one of my dance partners candidly told me, "You're not the best dancer here, but you're pretty good." The whole experience made me miss my college dance club even more.
I often find myself in this troublesome middle ground. More motivated than some, but not quite enough to seek the greatest challenges and thrills. Not satisfied with the how-would-you-like-your-burger? job, but not a candidate for president either. I'm the one who recites Shakespeare while walking, but not the one who stars on Broadway. Not an optimist by a long shot, but deep down, not truly a pessimist either.
In literary studies, we talk about the concept of "liminality." Essentially, liminal space refers to the borders. Not one thing, but not the other. It is being in the middle, the undefinable space. C.S. Lewis might call these, "the Shadowlands"--impermanent and subject to displacement and dissolution.
People respond to uncertainty and liminality in different ways. Some of these "defense mechanisms" are barely recognizable as such.
Flippancy is one. If you convince yourself that nothing really matters, maybe the failure won't seem like a big deal. If you limit your conversation to the weather, you can pretend that everything is fine.
Cynicism is another. If you convince yourself not to care, maybe the failure won't hurt so badly. If you tell yourself to expect nothing better, you can pretend you aren't disappointed. Not allowing yourself to depend on other people keeps you safe when they let you down.
On the surface, either technique is successful. But what is frightening is the way that outlook becomes reality. Sweet, romantic movies strike a chord in me that I would prefer left unstruck. If I scoff at the "cheesy" parts often enough, I lose my ability to appreciate them. All of a sudden, you realize that the helmet you set on your head is stuck. Spend enough time convincing yourself of something, and it can come true.
Somehow, you have to find a balance between reality and the superglued helmets that scar what they are meant to protect. Enough dreams to stay hopeful; enough pragmatism to stay real.
So where do you go from the middle, from that liminal space, from the defenses? For me, it's ultimately about looking up instead of down, outside the shadows, where "...In your light we see light..." (Psalm 36:5-9).
Unfortunately, when a riding helmet is superglued onto a doll's head, removing it has the same essential effect as scalping. Not a pretty sight, and colored pencil can only do so much to repair the damage.
I promise, there is a reason for this story.
I went to a swing dance on Saturday night. I knew a few people, from my contra dance group, but not many. The group was almost completely bisected into newbies and experts. Unfortunately, I didn't fit into either group. As one of my dance partners candidly told me, "You're not the best dancer here, but you're pretty good." The whole experience made me miss my college dance club even more.
I often find myself in this troublesome middle ground. More motivated than some, but not quite enough to seek the greatest challenges and thrills. Not satisfied with the how-would-you-like-your-burger? job, but not a candidate for president either. I'm the one who recites Shakespeare while walking, but not the one who stars on Broadway. Not an optimist by a long shot, but deep down, not truly a pessimist either.
In literary studies, we talk about the concept of "liminality." Essentially, liminal space refers to the borders. Not one thing, but not the other. It is being in the middle, the undefinable space. C.S. Lewis might call these, "the Shadowlands"--impermanent and subject to displacement and dissolution.
People respond to uncertainty and liminality in different ways. Some of these "defense mechanisms" are barely recognizable as such.
Flippancy is one. If you convince yourself that nothing really matters, maybe the failure won't seem like a big deal. If you limit your conversation to the weather, you can pretend that everything is fine.
Cynicism is another. If you convince yourself not to care, maybe the failure won't hurt so badly. If you tell yourself to expect nothing better, you can pretend you aren't disappointed. Not allowing yourself to depend on other people keeps you safe when they let you down.
On the surface, either technique is successful. But what is frightening is the way that outlook becomes reality. Sweet, romantic movies strike a chord in me that I would prefer left unstruck. If I scoff at the "cheesy" parts often enough, I lose my ability to appreciate them. All of a sudden, you realize that the helmet you set on your head is stuck. Spend enough time convincing yourself of something, and it can come true.
Somehow, you have to find a balance between reality and the superglued helmets that scar what they are meant to protect. Enough dreams to stay hopeful; enough pragmatism to stay real.
So where do you go from the middle, from that liminal space, from the defenses? For me, it's ultimately about looking up instead of down, outside the shadows, where "...In your light we see light..." (Psalm 36:5-9).
Friday, June 13, 2008
Life in 10 seconds
Now reading Shakespeare's Two Gentlemen of Verona, Adams' So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, and still working on The Brothers Karamazov. Just sent off the first fall internship application, for the Folger Shakespeare Library in D.C.
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