God
Monday, Mar 1 2010 11:08 AM
I've been thinking about these two questions a lot lately:
What do I think of God?
Who do I think He is?
I don't know if you watch Dexter, but if you do, you may understand where my growing paranoia with all things terrifying may come from.
I have escape plans. Lots of them. You can never be too prepared for a home-invasion.
But this deeply rooted fear that something bad is going to happen ... especially because my life is just a little too good to be true ... has consumed me. It causes me to spend time thinking of exit strategies and living in fear of what's around the corner or behind the shower curtain more than living in joy or celebration of the moment.
Now, you may be thinking, "then just stop watching that stupid show." And, while I would agree that it certainly doesn't help ... the show and it's influence are not my biggest concerns.
My concern is that what I think about God and who I think He is plays a much larger role in my living in fear.
I would love to blame it on the fire and brimstone sermons I heard as a kid. Or the youth group revival talks where they say you can be hit by a car and die when you walk out of church that night (just to scare kids into accepting Christ). And who knows, that may very well have played a role.
But I'm 27 years old. I have a brain of my own and, consequently, can think for myself.
I'm fully aware people go to school and become religious leaders to guide people like me in my thinking of the subject. I just feel a little thinking and digging for myself was a more viable option.
So. I went to a Bible study.
Yes ... a legit Bible study with a bunch of really cool girls my age. They aren't like the people I used to be in Bible study with. They're more ... honest ... real ... raw (can I say that?).
Anyway. We were reading Galatians 5. And I started to squirm a little. It took me a few times of reading through it to realize I could interact with the Scripture in a different way than I had done before.
I'm going to be real honest here. My most intimate interactions with the Bible came out of judgement. I was either trying to prove why I was right (and spending hours finding one measly verse that would validate my opinion) or trying to prove someone else's actions were wrong (and there are PLENTY of "Christian Living" books that helped me out there). I would occasionally stumble on passages that blew my mind and gave me a glimpse on how I should have been acting ... but I mostly used it as a metric for rules.
Let me tell you what I learned though.
The first sentence of this chapter is about freedom. God must care about freedom ... What I think of God and who I think He is did not jive with that. To me, he is a God of judgement. I remember being told multiple times that Satan only pays attention to people who are a threat to his mission. I used to think all my adversities could be attributed to the fact that I was doing something so detrimental to the work of evil in this world that obstacles were being thrown my way to deter me.
So. When things started going well for me ... I stopped reading the Bible and being so forward about my "religion." Why? Because I was tired. I was tired of the bad stuff and figured I'd lay low for a while on this whole God thing. I'd still talk to God and serve people and do all those moral things you're supposed to do ... But I certainly didn't want to be noticed. I'm not sure I had the energy for it anymore if that whole theory really was right.
But what this did eventually, was make me feel like I wasn't in the game. And in this passage it says, "You were running well; who hindered you from obeying the truth?"
Uh. Well ...
Your people. Those who claim to be "followers" kind-of left me a little jaded by this whole God thing. And I've just been trying to follow the rules close enough so I don't get yelled at. And what is truth anyway?
God is a God of rules. Lots of them.
Except, if you REALLY read this passage ... He's notsomuch. Because back in the day, all the churchy people kept this whole God thing reserved for people who were exactly like them. It was like a little club or secret society. It wasn't for people on the outside ... and God wasn't having it. It's obvious His "people" didn't quite get that ... but He made sure to repeat Himself until they started to catch on.
So. God is a God of equality. Everyone matters. Everyone.
The kicker: People who love God, are full of what He calls the fruit of the Spirit. I can recite these in my sleep (thanks Sunday school). But the one that stuck out ... Joy. I don't see that a lot. Especially in the traditional church. And if I do ... it's the creepy Christian kind-of joy that makes me feel like I'm in some weird cult.
But joy. Pure joy. I'd like that.
And if maybe I trusted God (which I think is the zinger here) ... I mean, really trusted Him and believed that His intentions aren't to test me or send me threw the ringer ... I may live more intentionally and certainly less fearful. Even if the possibility of the final episode of season 4's Dexter is possible ...
So, what do you think of God?
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When you become the person you've been running from
Tuesday, Feb 16 2010 08:16 PM
You either embrace it full on or continue fighting it.
Housewife. Business owner.
I always wanted one and ran from the other. You've got a 50/50 shot at which was which.
I never thought the two would ever coincide. My goal wasn't to come up with a business that could be reflected in a stereotypical female role. I was going to play a man's game in a man's world. Which, left no room for things like baking and cleaning house. I never pretended I could be super woman, so I chose one and ran with it while running from the other.
The sweet smell of a freshly dry cleaned suit, stillettoe pumps and a leather satchel... Ahhhh.
But I've found myself in a rather awkward position: working from home.
Yes. That means I've taken to baking and cooking more in between research and meetings. And while I'm doing it, I have to admit it feels liberating. Not super tasty quite yet... But liberating nonetheless to try something so unnatural and new.
When it's just me and my wisk... I own it. And when I'm alone ... you may even catch me with a smile on my face while I watch the batter rise or the chicken brown.
The second vince (or anyone else walks in for that matter) the gig is up. This isn't comfortable for me. I haven't practiced this part. My natural position ... In a conference room. Not behind the stove. And I've made that very clear. You know ... so that there is no confusion that I'm not like other people. (because apparently that has been super important to me)
So. When any mention of how I can improve comes up, or even suggestions for maximizing efficency (which i usually appreciate) ... I lose it. I feel entirely too vulnerable. Naked. Completely exposed to the world that I'm just like every other woman to ever fall blindly into their 'role.' And I am reminded that I'm not particularly good at this... At least not yet. And the truth ... I hate being a weak link.
So, in my mental panic and after I've made a complete fool of myself (and perhaps even burnt something), I remember that I have a choice. I can either define what this whole being a woman, nearly married with a career ahead of her looks like. Or I can live in the fear that I will become ... A stereotype that was probably defined in the first place by people who haven't a clue to begin with and just like seeing girls like me freak out on a regular basis.
Tonight, I chose first to retaliate in fear.
Housewife. Business owner.
I always wanted one and ran from the other. You've got a 50/50 shot at which was which.
I never thought the two would ever coincide. My goal wasn't to come up with a business that could be reflected in a stereotypical female role. I was going to play a man's game in a man's world. Which, left no room for things like baking and cleaning house. I never pretended I could be super woman, so I chose one and ran with it while running from the other.
The sweet smell of a freshly dry cleaned suit, stillettoe pumps and a leather satchel... Ahhhh.
But I've found myself in a rather awkward position: working from home.
Yes. That means I've taken to baking and cooking more in between research and meetings. And while I'm doing it, I have to admit it feels liberating. Not super tasty quite yet... But liberating nonetheless to try something so unnatural and new.
When it's just me and my wisk... I own it. And when I'm alone ... you may even catch me with a smile on my face while I watch the batter rise or the chicken brown.
The second vince (or anyone else walks in for that matter) the gig is up. This isn't comfortable for me. I haven't practiced this part. My natural position ... In a conference room. Not behind the stove. And I've made that very clear. You know ... so that there is no confusion that I'm not like other people. (because apparently that has been super important to me)
So. When any mention of how I can improve comes up, or even suggestions for maximizing efficency (which i usually appreciate) ... I lose it. I feel entirely too vulnerable. Naked. Completely exposed to the world that I'm just like every other woman to ever fall blindly into their 'role.' And I am reminded that I'm not particularly good at this... At least not yet. And the truth ... I hate being a weak link.
So, in my mental panic and after I've made a complete fool of myself (and perhaps even burnt something), I remember that I have a choice. I can either define what this whole being a woman, nearly married with a career ahead of her looks like. Or I can live in the fear that I will become ... A stereotype that was probably defined in the first place by people who haven't a clue to begin with and just like seeing girls like me freak out on a regular basis.
Tonight, I chose first to retaliate in fear.
I'm really hoping to get over that before I miss out on a chance to create my own definitions for the roles I choose to play. Or, at the very least, maybe I'll learn to give myself permission to experiment with these "gender specific" roles in case I've mis-perceived its excitement all along.
Comments (4)
do you feel taller?
Saturday, Feb 13 2010 09:14 AM
My parents used to ask me that every year on the morning of my birthday.
This morning ... Vince asked me and my response, "a little. But I'm wearing heels ..." It's always a nice reminder that each year brings growth ...
26 was a year that would catalyze some really big changes in my life.
I traveled ... gave more of my heart to the places I love around the globe.
I went home more which ultimately led to a greater appreciation for the things/people that I grew up with. And also reminded me that I have the power to create my own future.
I got engaged which has brought me to a new level of hormonal imbalance, fear and reckless abandon all in the name of love.
I have acquired a love for most things domestic. Call it "nesting" or my biological clock ticking feverishly (and ... I would argue ... prematurely), but I freaking love baking and playing host.
I became a pseudo home-owner. Meaning ... I invested but don't have to help Vince with the mortgage ... at least not until April.
I quit my job to pursue a life-long dream of being the boss. I'll let you know in 6 months how that's working out!
I learned a lot this year. I digressed ... but at least feel that I'm learning. From both the successes and failures.
I was cleaning out some boxes the other day and came across a dream book. It was something I threw together throughout the years of images from magazines that I only dreamed would one day represent my life.
Most of the images were of couples ... not doing anything in particular but clearly in love. Others were of floor plans for homes that will have to remain there until I become a millionaire. But something struck me about the whole book. I always thought 27 would be the best year ... that somehow it would be the year I could look back and be proud of where I had been and what I had become. That 27 would be the beginning of an entirely new era of what my life was meant to be and what I'm capable of. And to be honest ... I'm feeling like that may just be where I am.
So ... here's to you 26 ... for being full of lessons and adventure.
To 27 ... let's do this. ;)
Comments (1)
being human
Tuesday, Jan 26 2010 08:30 AM
[This from Anne Jackson's website -- guest blogger Seth Godin.]
Why is it so difficult to be human?
What does it mean to be human anyway?
A key part of being a real person – a human being – is showing up, especially when it’s difficult, particularly when it’s frightening to do so.
Showing up counts for a lot. Why? Because it’s scarce.
Someone who will comfort you on the phone in the middle of the night, then throw on a bathrobe and drive to your house. That’s precious.
Someone who tells you the truth.
Someone who exposes herself, is present, connected and willing to let you hurt them.
These are the things we seek out as people, and yet we rarely find them. And yet we are rarely willing to be this person.
We built institutions, organizations and religions to make it easy to avoid being this person. The rules and principles and jobs and buildings and code words and admonitions… they all exist to protect us from the truths we’re afraid of and from the interactions we’d rather not have.
They organize us, and organization is a wonderful way to be protected.
We go to work and we hide. We hide behind the religion of our brand or our team or our Dunder-Mifflin employee manual. We go to a foreign country and we play tourist, because actually going there is too difficult, too risky, to exposed.
Showing up counts for a lot.
When we show up, we connect, we make change, we are transparent, and yes, we’re human.
Caring hurts sometimes, and that’s inconvenient.
The good news is that more than ever, value accrues to those that show up, those that make a difference, those that do work that matters.
The good news is that digging deep and fighting that voice that begs us to shut up instead of show up really pays off now, in more ways than we can count.
Faith in yourself, in your friends, in your colleagues and most of all, faith in your ability to impact our future is the best strategy I know.
—-
Seth Godin’s new book LINCHPIN comes out today. It’s about art and gifts and connection and making a difference. And you should really read it because it’s really great
new ventures
Friday, Jan 15 2010 10:45 AM
Since I can remember, my grandpa's office was a make-shift playground. After hours and on the weekends, I would sit in his big leather chair and open the top drawer to find an assortment of pens and highlighters that would soon be used to scribble my thoughts on neon post it notes. I attribute my obsession for office supplies to growing up around his fully stocked office.
He had the corner office for years at his company until he and his two partners decided to join each other in a shared office upstairs overlooking the shop. While I preferred the corner office, the joint loft provided new toys to play with, like drafting tables with lights that would illuminate the blue prints scattered across the room.
I loved being able to have the vantage point from the glass wall of their loft looking over the shop. There was something inspiring about the work that happened from their chairs that was somehow translated to the work happening below.
I would always go down to the shop and get a glass bottle of Coke from the old vending machine. My uncle and father's offices were out there and it was always an adventure to weave in and out of sheet metal sparks to the plumbing sparks where I'd find dad and uncle Chris working on, yet another, side project after hours.
Between the smell of grease and sweat of that shop and the scent of burned coffee and stale air in the office, I became passionate about business. And I'm not sure I realized how much that impacted me until this past month ...
It began with an email from my grandfather late one evening that said the gentleman who had bought his company had been found dead at his home.
I loved being able to have the vantage point from the glass wall of their loft looking over the shop. There was something inspiring about the work that happened from their chairs that was somehow translated to the work happening below.
I would always go down to the shop and get a glass bottle of Coke from the old vending machine. My uncle and father's offices were out there and it was always an adventure to weave in and out of sheet metal sparks to the plumbing sparks where I'd find dad and uncle Chris working on, yet another, side project after hours.
Between the smell of grease and sweat of that shop and the scent of burned coffee and stale air in the office, I became passionate about business. And I'm not sure I realized how much that impacted me until this past month ...
It began with an email from my grandfather late one evening that said the gentleman who had bought his company had been found dead at his home.
I'm not sure why it shook me as much as it did, but I do know it caused me to reevaluate a few things. And in my first week of self-employment, the first of many risks I will surely take as a business woman myself, the step back couldn't have been more timely.
As I gather my own drawer of pens, post it notes, clients and work that I am passionate about, I need to remember that there are more important things in life than ... work. And I'll be the first to admit that concept doesn't come easy for me.
I have a lot going on in the coming months that could cause me to make hasty decisions about the foundation of my business. If I've learned anything from my grandpa's office and his colleagues death, it's that a company will provide an endless supply of distractions ... and it's my job to make sure they don't interfere with life and the stuff that really matters.
napping
Monday, Jan 11 2010 08:36 AM
I was fully prepared to write a blog about how difficult it is to be a 20-something.
Seemingly so many pressures. Countless decisions to be made that may or may not lead us in the right trajectory to be successful 30-somethings. Not to mention feeling like everyone else around us is getting all these opportunities to do what we could only hope to do at some point in our careers.
It's exhausting. And ultimately discouraging if you think about it for too long. But after a few conversations this weekend, I feel more hopeful about the future of my friend's careers. No, not mine, but certainly other people's. And while I hold up hope for them, it may bode me well to follow the advice below for my own internal quarter life crisis:
I'll admit that my natural response would be, "There are plenty of people in this world taking naps. I, on the other hand, have work to do. You with me?" But lately, I'm kind-of feeling (and hoping) she's right. Would it KILL me to calm the hell down? I mean, really. Would it kill any of us 20-somethings to just exhale for a second and realize we're doing ok ... honestly. We aren't failures.
Maybe we could try and enjoy what we've got now ... because something tells me our idea of "making it" may not be a walk in the park either.
So. Here's to naps and actually breathing ... you know ... the inhaling AND exhaling kind.
Seemingly so many pressures. Countless decisions to be made that may or may not lead us in the right trajectory to be successful 30-somethings. Not to mention feeling like everyone else around us is getting all these opportunities to do what we could only hope to do at some point in our careers.
It's exhausting. And ultimately discouraging if you think about it for too long. But after a few conversations this weekend, I feel more hopeful about the future of my friend's careers. No, not mine, but certainly other people's. And while I hold up hope for them, it may bode me well to follow the advice below for my own internal quarter life crisis:
We are the strivingest people who have ever lived. We are ambitious, time-starved, competitive, distracted. We move at full velocity, yet constantly fear we are not doing enough. Though we live longer than any humans before
us, our lives feel shorter, restless, breathless...
Dear ones, EASE UP. Pump the brakes. Take a step back. Seriously. Take two steps back. Turn off all your electronics and surrender over all your aspirations and do absolutely nothing for a spell. I know, I know – we all need to save the world. But trust me: The world will still need saving tomorrow. In the meantime, you’re going
to have a stroke soon (or cause a stroke in somebody else) if you don’t calm the hell down.
So go take a walk. Or don’t. Consider actually exhaling. Find a body of water and float. Hit a tennis ball against a wall. Tell your colleagues that you’re off meditating (people take meditation seriously, so you’ll be absolved from guilt) and then actually, secretly, nap.
My radical suggestion? Cease participation, if only for one day this year – if only to make sure that we don’t lose forever the rare and vanishing human talent of appreciating ease. Elizabeth Gilbert
I'll admit that my natural response would be, "There are plenty of people in this world taking naps. I, on the other hand, have work to do. You with me?" But lately, I'm kind-of feeling (and hoping) she's right. Would it KILL me to calm the hell down? I mean, really. Would it kill any of us 20-somethings to just exhale for a second and realize we're doing ok ... honestly. We aren't failures.
Maybe we could try and enjoy what we've got now ... because something tells me our idea of "making it" may not be a walk in the park either.
So. Here's to naps and actually breathing ... you know ... the inhaling AND exhaling kind.
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