Our Vows

I am not patient and kind (To have and to hold);

I envy and boast (from this day forward);

I am arrogant and rude (for better).

I insist on my own way (for worse);

I am irritable and resentful (for richer);

I rejoice at our wrongdoing (for poorer),

I do not rejoice with the truth (in sickness).

You bear all things (or in health),

you believe all things (to love),

you hope all things (and to cherish),

you endure all things ('till death do us part).

I always fail (And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness).

You do.

(I do.)

I don't.

12/30/10

The Box

It is well.



This is my closet, that Chinese box is The Box.

12/29/10

For The Kingdom

What does it mean to work for the Kingdom? What does it "really" mean to give all you own to the poor? If I'm a millionaire do I give all of my money away instantly, or do I invest it wisely so that I can make more to use for the Kingdom in the long run? Am I to hate things that have so much money put into them when that money could have been used to help someone? I think of people that own multimillion dollar houses. I hate those houses. But Heaven is described as being very regal. Am I to hate the regal on earth but enjoy it in Heaven? Is it okay for me to have expensive hobbies, and if so, how much money is acceptable for me to put towards myself verses others?

I want to be poor. I want to give up everything. I want to be happy. I want to have hobbies. I want to enjoy well done Good things. How do I do all of that to benefit the Kingdom?

The picture is the Breakers in Newport, RI: one of many beautiful mansions lining the Cliff Walk on the coast.

12/28/10

Big Bang Theory

9 hour season 2 marathon complete. (Must also count in the time it took to return the first two disks, rent the last two, and eat at mcdonalds at midnight as our halfway through break). This is what I love to do: it's a hobby and a skill. I find that I love my friends that I can do this with and that our relationships are both as nerdy, disfunctional, and unconditional as the casts.

12/27/10

Clothes

I try on way too many outfits every morning. I make a point to look good when I feel that my life is least in my control or I'm most upset. It's when I'm most confident that I wear sweat pants. I'm never satisfied with my body. Most of the time I feel like I'm okay with my body, but worry about what others will think of it when I compare myself to them and their mindset.

Shopping? Always a self esteem destroyer. I was reminded of this today as I pulled larger sizes than what I originally grabbed off of racks and struggled to find jeans that fit my waste AND my thighs. And the inevitable truth is that I will buy a pair of jeans...and then after about two times of wearing them discover that I loathe them along with every other pair I own.

If clothes weren't built for barbies, maybe I'd feel a bit better. If clothes were built for my body type, and finding something that fits well wasn't so hard, than maybe I would feel a bit more accepted in my skin. But I think that's how most of us women feel: the more clothes we find that don't fit our bodies, the stronger the impression we get that we don't fit the mold, that there's something wrong with us, and that we need to change.

I wish I could find the perfect pair of jeans.


Perfect pair of jeans courtesy of Mardou & Dean. They can be yours for $234.

12/26/10

Childhood Magic

When I was a kid (moreso than now), my mom used to decorate the entire house for Christmas. Decorations on the piano, above the fireplace, above the windows, Santas on the dinning room walls, the bathroom walls, living room table, the end tables all covered, and of course the glorious tree. And on the end table by the couch on the border of the living room and dining room, she would put a little house in which Santas elves would move in and out of windows and doors to Christmas music. I used to sit and stare at that house for God only knows how long, listening to the music and watching the elves and configuring stories in my head. Christmas was more than just a celebration; it was a a feeling and a spirit and a way of life. Years later I tried to sit down and watch that same little house and feel just as entranced but I was bored before a minute was up, and the magic was gone.

This year Christmas came and went quickly. At school we decorated our house and tree, had our Christmas morning breakfast and gift exchange, and took down our tree and gave it away before we all went home for the break. Christmas was finished before I ever came home for the holiday. The house wasn't as decorated this year, which was no fault of my mothers, and I never made a Christmas list. I didn't listen to Christmas music and I felt nothing of the holiday season. During Christmas Eve I felt a glimmer of it when I put out the cookies and milk with my sister. It wasn't until my little sister woke me up the second our alarm went off and jumped up and down on my bed that I began to feel it. And sitting by the tree in my matching pajama set, the same as my sister, with my dad videoing us, and the dogs ripping open their presents it felt like the holiday season. And as I started to open gifts I knew the Christmas magic wasn't gone, and it felt wonderful to feel that childhood joy again.


I often feel that the magic has left my life. My childhood was made of it, but somewhere along the line it took off and wouldn't come back. It was refreshing to learn that opening Christmas presents is one way I can feel it again.

The picture of the child that looks much like I would have staring at that elf house is titled "In Awe" by SDGrrL and the picture of the presents is titled "Christmas Wrapping!" by hello_rach. Both were found on flickr.

12/25/10

Blah Blah Blah

I talk too much.



Titled "talk talk talk" by kelefeh on Deviantart

12/24/10

Scrambled Brains Anyone?

Photo by trigo.photo on flickr

12/23/10

Too Much Need-Love

12/22/10

Complain

I'm dying.

12/21/10

Family

My family is made up of the people that I know deeply, have disagreed with sharply, screamed at willingly and loved unconditionally. Those people that don't have the same blood in their veins as me, haven't shared my ancestry, but have life and community in common with me. They are the people that I can push around, hate and abuse, and am comforted and secured knowing that at the end of the day, when they've done the same thing back to me, our shameful selves have not been abandoned by one another. My friends have become my family, sometimes not by choice and without seeing it coming, but the love and abuse say it's so.



My family is made up of people that I know deeply, have disagreed with sharply, screamed at willingly and loved unconditionally. Those people that have the same blood in their veins as me, have shared my ancestry, and have life and community in common with me. They are the people that I can push around, hate and abuse, and am comforted and secured knowing that at the end of the day, when they've done the same thing back to me, our shameful selves have not been abandoned by one another. My family has become my family, sometimes not by choice and without seeing it coming, but the love and abuse prove it's so.

12/20/10

My Community

I hate people on a regular basis. Today, I was reminded who makes up my community. Sitting in the airport for five hours without internet forced me to live in the present and right where I was. After walking through the science section of a kids store, witnessing an impatient mother and then encountering the hoards of women with their children in the airport, I realized I would like to be a mother. Maybe someday. I also realized that I'd like to take all of the other mothers places because somehow I believe that God has endowed me with wisdom that no other women posses of how to raise a child. But I only get one. Maybe two. And that's it. I realized I have to share the responsibilites of the world with my community. The raising of a new generation of people, the forming philosophies of the world, and the leaps forward in science: they can't just be me. I'm a contributer and if I want to do it right I need to be able to know and encourage my community, and trust them as well instead of trying to steal responsiblity from everyone around me. If being in the world isn't about being perfect, like I talked about, than not trusting people and not being okay with their mistakes is no longer acceptable for me.

A natrophatic doctor talked to me for an hour while I sat in the airport. He was open and honest and vulnerable. He was not a creeper, but a philospher, and he walked me to my gate and hugged me goodbye. An off duty flight attendant sat next to me on the airplane and let me pick a movie to watch with him on his lap top. He made sure I had food and water. My friends of eight years picked me up at the airport at home and loved me. Loved me.

My community is made up of servants. Servants that refresh my soul and remind me who I am. My community is made up of people just like me who get impatient and confused and unmotivated: I tend to hate my community most for the things that I hate most in myself. I can't demand perfection from them because I don't really believe that perfection is about doing everything right and best all of the time. It's something that has to do with love. I am learning to trust my community, love them when they fail, and learn to serve them just like they serve me.

12/19/10

Servants Heart

A servants heart refreshes me. Molds and makes into what I used to be. Allows me to slow down and watch and rest and feel. Allows me to fear then trust therefore learn. A servants heart reminds me that I'm a servant too. And wakes me from my long and long and long sleep.




12/18/10

Perfection

We work so hard to make the perfect world. We build and we cure and we nurture and we design, all for the sake of making our lives easier and more convenient. More "good." And I innately have the desire to be perfect and work perfection into the world. But what does that mean? Does it mean that I build the perfect buildings and bridges with elevators and moving walkways? Does it mean I keep all disease from entering the world and give everyone the most healthy and virus resistant bodies? Does it mean I protect unconditionally and shield all evil from those around me?

Maybe God was onto something when he said that the greatest thing is love. Maybe it's not necessarily the pursuit of an easy life that's important, but what's best for people? Again, you hit this idea of perfection. So how do we strive for a better world and more Good world?

I don't strive to make the world easier technologically. I will strive for the medical field but I have to ask myself: what will be my duty? Is it simply to prevent the body from getting hurt, put it back in working order when something goes wrong, and make plans for how to avoid sickness in the future? What happens when we take that approach with life? If we think it's wrong to shield our children from all evil and keep them from experiencing hardships in their lives, why would it be any different for or physical bodies? When I decide to work on a persons body, somehow I need to work on their lives. Medicine has to be more holistic than that: my job will not be just to heal physically, but also spiritually, mentally, and emotionally as well. I will be a servant for a human being, not just their body.

How do we serve the world: striving to do what's right for them? It can't be in fixing everything. Sometimes we have to let people struggle. Sometimes we have to know when it's time to die, to strive, time to let collapse. We are so set on making and changing and perfecting that we lose track of something. We lose track of the main goal and what we're supposed to be striving for solely. What is it that we're supposed to strive for as a society and as an individual in the world? How do we strive for perfection?

I want to strive for perfection: but not the world's view. Maybe not even the typical idea of heavenly perfection. I want to strive for the pursuit of love and wisdom in our society and in our lives; and I don't think that will be in making things easier or more fair.

12/17/10

Along for the Ride

I am not as strong as I think I am.

I am not as in control as I think I am.

I am not as powerful as I think I am.

I see my potential and I think I'm already there.

(Maybe I don't have any potential at all?
There's such a thing as too humble.)







This picture is "Chasing Shadows" by Grace Kathleen taken from flickr. Her self portrait a day is what inspired me to do this entire blog. Find her here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/gracekathleen/

12/16/10

Snakes

I choke on the past. Sometimes it just sneaks up on me, and before I can swallow it down, I'm choking and it won't let me be in the present. She is symbolic to me, and at first it was just about her hair, but having learned her story, I feel that our stories, though very different, are very similar and that we could be friends, or sisters, or the same. I searched for a long time to find a picture of Medusa the way I felt she existed, and this: "Medusa's Transformation" by Alέxandros UnregisteredMinds from flickr is exactly it. In the fear of what has happened and what I am becoming: what the past is making me. And in that transformation: Medusa is what I choke on.



12/15/10

Clowning Around

How I felt today. It hasn't just been today though: it's been possibly the last three days. When I have to be, I can be the most motivated, get three hours of sleep, drink an energy drink for breakfast, study for 10 hours straight and repeat type of person. But when it's most important, I have no control over the unmotivated and hazy feeling in my mind. I'm groping to be what I know I need to be, but my minds not there and no amount of searching can fix that. I know I need to go into crazy work mode: but all I can be is relaxed and content. I thought I was in control of something seemingly so simple.

I am two extremes: a powerhouse and a sigh.

In between I'm a clown: awkward and purposeless.

It's impossible to fake. I don't know if any of this coming off right. Just look at the picture.

12/14/10

Addicted

I'm a person prone to addiction. Addiction to people, to places, to activities, to habits, to food, to slothfulness, to robot unicorn attack. Some addictions have gripped my life with shame so deep I've felt my soul descending to hell. Some addictions that I've only whispered to an amount of people I can count on one hand. But in telling my shame I've built relationships on the solid ground of Christ, and I've never regretted it for a second. This video is how I feel, and you can stop watching once the dance is done. The first time my sister and I watched this we cried: because it's so true. This is me:





I feel as though my addictions define who I am. And as much as they've decimated my joy, they have also built me into someone who can more easily (identify, understand, empathize:) know and therefore love others. I couldn't have learned to love others if I hadn't experienced hating myself first. I'm getting to know my addictions and therefore am getting more able to fight them. But lately I've found myself tempted to fall back into the same routine but in fresh new ways and I'm desperate to gain control. I know these things are true:

"Self-discipline begins with the mastery of your thoughts. If you don't control what you think, you can't control what you do. Simply, self-discipline enables you to think first and act afterward." -Napolean Hill

"Thoughts crystallize into habit and habit solidifies into circumstances." -Bryan Adams

"It is the nature of thought to find its way into action." -Christian Bovee

"We destory arguments of every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ." -II Corinthians 10:5(ESV)


I've learned that my thoughts have a tendency to be the root of all my evil. I let myself believe lies. But with some mind control and a centered mind on the Vine I have high hopes.

12/13/10

Plain Jane

I feel awkward in who I am. When I was in junior high I was an oddball, a nerd, and so was my best friend. As we sat in the cafeteria toward the end of 8th grade she looked at me from across the table and told me that we were going to change. That we could be popular too. And we did. I learned that people like people with personality, and learned how to be loud, funny, original, and confident. Now it's six years later and I'm trying to unlearn all of that. All of those characteristics have become a stuck part of who I am, but I'm reattaining those lost qualities that made me different. Mostly, the silence. I wrote this in us history in the middle of all of my notes. And since it won't let me indent on here, I'm putting ~~'s.

I don't have an answer!
I don't have a response;
~~to your story,
~~to your history,
~~to your causes and effects,
~~to your humor but to laugh.
And maybe smile,
Probably frown,
~~and in due time I won't cry or hold.
I'm not lame.
I'm not dumb!
I'm not boring.
What I am is listening. And I hear you.
And I'm interested.

Stories don't just spill out of me, and I don't tell people about myself unless they ask. I often walk around looking as though I have an unhappy disposition, and I often wonder if anyone could really be interested or care for someone as seemingly deadpan as me. People around here only like you if you're happy or funny or entertaining. And sometimes I am. But often I'm not. Will people like me if I'm not?











And in a world of people judging one another, I look at my impression of myself, and how I think others see me, and I feel as odd as this:
And also as beautiful.







The second picture down of the girl with her eyes closed is from Chrissie White's Flickr.
The last picture of the little girl is from Paulchen's Flickr.
Both of these people posted these pictures with the caption, "This is not me." They may not have captured themselves, but they've certainly captured me.

12/12/10

Why I'm being honest.

So here's my first post. I'm creating this blog on a whim. I've been wanting to do a sort of creative, "self portrait a day" style thing, but haven't ever worked up the umph to actually do it. It's that and I've always wanted to be able to be honest about myself: completely honest with anyone who asks me or wants to know. It's the people who have been completely honest with me about who they are and revealed themselves down to their dirtiest core being, disregarding their shame, that have taught me most about life and brought me the greatest understanding of mercy. I'd go as far as to say that if we really were honestly following the messiah, we would never hold back anything about who we are to others: we don't own our shame. It's not ours to withold: we have no right to be prideful and part of our mission is to display Christ. I think to do that we have to say who we are.

I think I'm getting ahead of myself.

This isn't a diary. It's not necessarily to document the events of my life, but to document an impression of where I've been and who I am. Not a history but hopefully a painting, an idea, a feeling, of me. It's to teach myself how to be honest and obseve who I am.