Reason Breeds Insanity

Life is weird. That is not a new sentiment. I am worn out. I am worn out from walking uphill. It seems as if everything is an uphill shove. I feel like I am pushing big rocks up a never-ending incline. Once I get to the top will the rock roll back down over me a squish me?

Today I had lunch with a girl who used to be in my youth group. I used to be so in touch with her, I knew her intimately, and we trusted each other. I felt like I didn’t even know her today. I felt as if I could have been talking to anyone across the table. I loved hearing about her trip, but I couldn’t engage. There were so many questions I should have asked: how did that shape your faith, how did you feel while you were there, what did you learn, how are you using that in your faith journey? But instead I just listened and wondered how in two years did I get so disconnected from someone who previously meant so much in my life?

I also had the opportunity to talk with an old friend, and it made me realize that I missed him and all of the other adults I worked with for those years. I had forgotten the deep conversations and the deep love honed through the stressful moments and the days filled with joy. Do I want to go back to those days? No! Do I look back to those five years with a sense of fondness? Yes. For as with all moments in our lives, we wouldn’t be who we are without them. I guess sometimes I just wish that I could actually be around once to see the fruits of my labor grow into trees. It isn’t that I think I am prophetic in the least, I simply wish that once someone would give my ideas the benefit of the doubt and try them while they are still new and innovative!

I watched an interesting movie the other. It was called Driving Lessons and the lead actor was Rupert Grint, Ron Weasley in the Harry Potter movies. The movie was about masks, facades, and the way we try so hard to live our lives to please others. It was good, and it has made me think more about my life than most movies I’ve seen recently. My favorite aspect of it is that Ben ends up being friend with Evie, an old, has-been of an actress. Even though their friendship is totally strange, it is beautiful and held together by an appreciation for arts, poetry, and quirkiness. Good flick.

I guess I just think about things too much sometimes.

You never know what you may encounter in life, especially when you deal with homeless people. You never know the tales they spin, and you never know what they tell other people about you. I am simply amazed by it all.

Today my friend Molly and I went to take some food to Sam and Joe, and spent some time talking to Sam, who told us one story after another. Molly asked if he was always like that and I said that sometimes he talks a lot and sometimes not much at all. It was really cold last night, however, and Sam doesn’t have a sleeping. Even though he weaves a strange tale, he still deserves to have a sleeping bag. I am going to go to GoodWill tonight and grab a sweatshirt for him. If they have a sleeping bag, I will pick up one of those as well. Interestingly, Joe, who doesn’t spin a tale, who simply exists to live has warm sleeping bag and was still asleep when we got there this morning. Our goal is to try to find a night when we can feed a nice dinner to whoever wants to come. I would love to do it in the depot parking lot, so that anyone could come who wanted to come, but I am trouble finding a vision for it. I am stopped every time by my lack of money, my lack of time, and my lack of courage to go to the depot to find out if we can use their parking lot.

These issues are the ones that I hope to sort out over the summer—that I hope to put away with my materialism. How do I become the vessel that I feel I am called to be? How do we embody the love of Jesus that we are called to share with others? I am slowly learning how to do this. An amazing thing to do, one that I didn’t realize was amazing until now, when I am almost finished with it, is to read the Bible all the way through. I find myself wanting to be one of those people that I have read about who goes to a hotel and reads through the Bible without being able to put it down. I want to be that ravenous.

Finally, I was talking yesterday with a friend’s mom. She and her husband are moving to Michigan because he is going to be pasturing a church there. We started talking about it, and she mentioned that the church is on Lake Huron. I said oh, wow, how beautiful. The Huron National Forest is right behind their parsonage, etc. So, we kept talking and she said that their church sits right on a river, which just happens to be the Ausable River. My brother and I canoe down that river. I think I want to see if he wants to go all the way from Greyling to Lake Huron this summer. It should be a good inexpensive trip because we already have all of the supplies. Dudie’s mom even said we could stay at their house once we got to the Lake. I think it would be nice to land there on Saturday and go to church on Sunday then get picked up. That way we could have a shower, too! One last thing about that, I told her mom that Dudie just has a presence about her that is amazing and makes me happy. I thought later, Duh, that’s Jesus you dork!

Hooch (according to UrbanDictionary.com): Slang for moonshine or bootleg alcohol, popular term during prohibition era; slang term for marijuana that is rarely used nowadays, popular during late 60’s and early 70’s.

Well, last night I had the hooch, and it was an educational endeavor. I love beer. Of all types. I am not really fond of Belgian beers or wheat ales, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger or so they say. Anyway, I have been reading David Copperfield for my Victorian literature class, so I decided that while I was out with my friend last night, I would try the different types of beer that are mentioned in David Copperfield: porter and ale. Well, I also tried an IPA because they might have had that since it was brewed to be shipped from England to India without going bad. Hence, India Pale Ale. Out of purely scientific and research oriented curiosity, I began with a Porter. Anyone who knows me knows that Guinness is my favorite beer, but that I don’t really like other stouts. I do, however, LOVE Porters and IPAs. So I began with my favourite porter: St. Peter’s Old Style Porter. Because, as I said this was scientific endeavor I paid close attention to the way that the porter made me feel. Warm, happy, drunk. And another Porter from a different brewery. Same. Okay, so on to the IPA, which David Copperfield didn’t drink but that I knew had flowery and wonderful hoppy taste to cleanse my pallet for Monty Python’s Holy Grail Ale, as it is named. The DogFish Head 90 minute IPA was beautiful, like drinking a hoppy, bitter, flower, so the Monty Python sort of pales in comparison. After the kick of a nice hoppy IPA, an ale sort of tastes flat, like eating hummus and then eating cream cheese. After one, the other has no flavor. At any rate, I still do not know the different connotations of beer for Victorians, but I am prepared to go to whatever lengths necessary to find out.

Remember now that this research was done for a purpose, children, and don’t drink and drive.

I am making an attempt to simplify my life. I know I will never be Buddha on the mountaintop, but I feel constricted by my Things. I feel manipulated into thinking I need things. I feel stupid for buying into the capitalist consumer (yeah, mom, I’m a communist) driven society we live in. I guess I just feel worn out from trying to keep up. I sometimes think that Bec is some kind of saint for being able to live with me when I am like this. I fully expect at some point in my life to have a breakdown, to just turn on, tune in, and drop out. I just can’t take trying so hard just to live up to the expectations of other people, to live up to my own expectations of me, and to go through life with real life passing me by. I often wonder am I trying to get my PhD. To make money? to impress others? or because I love literature? I sold my car to my friend, and now I walk or ride my bike everywhere, which is amazing, but I find myself thinking mean thoughts about people who are addicted to their cars. Take, for instance, my neighbors. Yesterday they left and no more than two minutes later, they were back. I said out loud to Bec, well, I suppose the amount of CO they put in the air was worth the five minutes they saved by not walking that trip. A month ago that was me, so why am I so damned snarky? Well, not only am I PMSing, but I guess I am also trying to find my place in this mess. I think I am going to go homeless for a bit next summer, or something, maybe a long camping trip by myself, but I need perspective. I need a perspective that I can’t get where I am right now.

I blame my disillusionment on people like Shane Claiborne, Donald Miller, Anne Lamott, and mostly Jesus. I have been trying to cleanse myself. Yeah, I guess people would say I am a bit new-agey, too, but I think Jesus took moments to cleanse himself. He fasted, prayed, withdrew to the wilderness, and walked around barefoot, so I guess we all should take a moment to do that. I need more time with just myself and Jesus and nature.

Anyway, I have stopped eating meat again for health, moral, and ethical reasons.

Health: I was fatter than I had ever been one month ago, but I have lost quite a bit of weight since then, like 15 pounds. I feel better when I am vegetarian, and I love vegetables, so what the hell, no more dead animals.

Moral/Ethical: First, I am a pacifist, and I have read enough Buddhist writing that I believe that compassion extends to all living beings. (I also think people were created to be vegetarians, but I won’t go into that theological rant right now.) I think that way we treat animals and all living beings tells alot about how we eventually treat people. I know, I’m crazy, but I have a hard time eating one animal and petting and naming another, and since David, who hates vegetables, is in Fort Wayne now, it is easier to make a vegetarian meal for Bec and I. And, I know that it may seem weird, but I have a hard time eating something that I think is beautiful. I love cows! How can you not love cows! I guess, too, I am trying to think about how gluttonous Americans are. If we don’t like food, if it doesn’t taste exactly right, we don’t eat it. Why? Because we can afford to be picky! I am trying to buy as much Fair Trade, Organic stuff as I can, too. Basically, I am trying to take only pictures and leave only footprints, as the case may be. I want people to be treated fairly, and I want my body to be a temple—a round, wonderful temple. Click here to see a website about Christian Vegetarianism. Click here to check out a local fair trade endeavor.

This whole post was prompted not only by my mother telling me that I needed to post something because I hadn’t in a while, but also by my first Sabbath on which I read Through Painted Desserts by Donald Miller. He writes:
“How does a person stop caring about the opinion of others enough to enjoy them without manipulating them? How does a person stop caring about money to pay rent, about where his food will come from, or whether or not he has a good retirement package? When with Paul [his friend not the apostle], one is confronted with the notion that may be much easier than the rest of us believe it is, that most of the things we worry about are not worth worrying about, that a low bank account or unfashionable clothes won’t give you cancer.”

He goes on to talk about how he thinks that life is about security. How life is about worrying about being right, whether or not people like him, whether or not he’ll get married, and all sorts of other things. I want to be more like his friend, Paul. I want people to know when they are around me that life is good, life is worth living out loud, life is not about money, status, popularity, or security. Life is about love, compassion, grace, God, and each other. I want to live the simple way: love God, love people, follow Jesus.

I didn’t swim this morning because it is still dark at 6AM. I am going to swim at noon today, though, and I am pretty excited about it.
I am getting ready to teach for the first time today. I’m pretty nervous, and I am not really sure why.
I do know that all I will be doing this semester is reading. My reading for this week alone was over 1200 pages, but at least it was mostly interesting.