December 10th 2006

I turned twenty five yesterday. It was really fun.
A year ago I wrote this entry in a little red journal:

"In front of a mirror I stood and was self-aware, nose to nose with myself, in a big way for the first time in a long time. Self-aware and self-confused, uncertain about how to situate myself in the world.
A big question, pointless maybe -- Who is looking back at me? I looked close enough to see the reflection of my own reflection in the wet dark centers of my eyes. Who is that?
He who drinks his lover in with the same eyes, and succeeds at stilling her heart with his words and touch long enough to have her trusting him.
He who takes the Eucharist like a child takes candy, like a glutton. Feeling around for God with his tongue between bites. Mostly hungry, but almost as desperate -- and by no means sure of which is the nobler motivation.
He who dabs at paper with his pen; or blinks through a few pages of literature; or gives enough of himself to the people around him to keep them interested and intrigued. All these things, from time to time, trying to rake out something more than an existence.
I was close enough to see my pores, to see my face that was a lot more of a child's face last time I looked that close.
Luckily my step-brother knocked on the bathroom door and startled me away from myself. But I'll have to go back. There's something in my that needs sorting through. I need to listen some more, to almost cry some more, and to stare..
Later I talked with my infant niece about the significance of the experiences that are common to life but new to me, the ones that are all bundled and tangled up inside of me right now. She laughed and gurgled spit out from between her vibrating lips."

Having done those things -- sorted, listened, started crying finally -- I expect to be right back at it this year. I may even arrive at some statements to share, if not here then in some format somewhere else. I'm feeling stronger this December 10th than I did the last one.
Today I'm driving an hour south, from Indianapolis to Bloomington, where I have an appointment to sign for an apartment there. I'll be moving come January. This feels like a big transition. I think I need to talk with EllaAnne some more; she's shaping her gurgles and spit into words now, but continues to remind me that no matter what words I might manage to arrive at, laughter probably still sums it up the best.

the sacrament of cereal

On the same morning that I gave Lauren a ring with a diamond in it (a diamond passed down to me that once belonged to my great-grandmother, reset in a whitegold band, pure and simple) she gave me a hand crafted metal bowl, unfree of blemishes, the perfect size in both width and depth. She and I enjoy cereal, enjoy the experience of sharing it with each other. We enjoy life. We enjoy each other's hands and feet. The bowl is small enough for a bowl of cereal and just big enough to wash one's hands and feet in it, or to wash someone else's hands and feet in it. I think it's sturdy enough for life.
It was July 11th, early in the morning before anybody else in the whole world was awake, that Lauren and I got engaged. And we've been that way ever since.

application unsent

a month or two ago i was filling out an application for christian theological seminary, which is just that, a seminary, here in indianapolis. i didn't finish the application cause i changed my mind, but i didn't waste my time filling things out either. i had begun a draft of my personal statement, specifically the part about what i want to be when i grow up. i wrote about wanting to be a professor because i get excited about contributing to other people's education, which is of course contributing to their formation and their process of becoming who they are. then i thought about what sorts of things have contributed to making me the sort of person that gets excited about things like that, or just the sort of person that i am in general. the influences are as many as the people i've met and the conversations i've had with them, i decided. the influences are intricate and convoluted.
my formation -- as in the lines scrawled in black across the canvas of my life, the lines that give me shape -- was initiated by things like parental influence, religious heritage, culture and my social status within it. these are the things that distinguish me as a person who belongs to a certain time in a certain place, and who bears certain expectations.
my becoming -- as in the colors that fill me in and make me me -- are such things as the decisions i have made to adventure, play, love, speak, read, pursue, be still, encounter, and desire. things like my experiences in the wilderness, encountering the natural elements, encountering God, encountering a subtlety of existence that exceeds in quality the one that exists in the midst of the always striving elements of civilization. like books i've read and teachers i've had that have told me explicitly or in disguise, didactically or suggestively, that truth is mediated to us through metaphors; that imagination is essential for deciphering the truths within these metaphors; and that it is the same with God, beauty, and hope as it is with truth. like relationships that have integrally communicated to me that i am loved and capable of loving, and in the process have periodically revealed to me how it is that i go about receiving and expressing love. like the places i have gone in response to my commitment to an established revulsion toward the status quo; the places i have gone geographically, theologically, and life-stylistically.
these are the things that distinguish me as a person who is himself and not finished and, like the rest of you, not quite definable. it is the first that give my body shape and the latter that fill it with breath.

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in the meantime, even though i changed my mind about cts, i'm still pondering and precariously close to pursuing more education. i listed a few reasons for this pursuit on the incomplete application.
--because i can't stop thinking. and a context for that, a plot of land that my thoughts can flourish in, would not be a bad thing to have. without it they might run amuck, get overgrown, and not end up nourishing anyone.
--i'm ready for some more structured intellectual stimulation.
--i want to teach, and like it or not (a lot of the time i do, some of the time i don't) i need credentials to do that.
--i want to teach, but i need to establish a big, fat, insatiable habit of learning first.

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and then the application asked about my values. i made a list on the back of the envelope that the application came in. -- listening -- awareness -- simplicity -- primacy of relationship -- blessed are the peacemakers -- significant amounts of creating, noticing, and appreciating beauty. i jotted down that i value several of the traditional things as well. things such as fidelity and honesty and ambition and hard work. further to the right on the envelope i noted that i value travel and home, reading and writing, people and solitude.

lauren and i ran the indianapolis mini-marathon together on saturday. our experience contributed significantly to my renewed appreciation for large portions of humanity getting excited with one another about doing something fun, beneficial, and difficult. when that happens that's good news as far as i'm concerned. i value that.

I've been back a year

Before coming back from Europe last year I spent my final night in the Dublin airport and sat there with my eyes squinted tight trying to see what it was that I had just experienced. The most accurate thing I determined was that I was much the same as when I had left and that I was much different.
The similarities and differences between what characterizes a human on one portion of her/his journey compared to another portion are almost always blurry. Very seldom do we wake up dramatically distinct from the person we went to sleep as. But always, I'm convinced, things are happening and shifting in us subtly. We hope for the better, but it's best not to worry about it too much.

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Right now the things I'm big on (which is to say: the things I'm thinking about, reading about, talking about, and trying to, even if ever so slightly, live about) are, amongst other things, in no particular order, the following:
-- environmentalism. I pray each night that God would help me to honor the earth and all its inhabitants. That prayer hasn't gotten fully answered yet. Neither is it any great comfort to me to know that every single person reading this, and everyone who isn't, could do a better job at it. We're each actually responsible - regardless of our faith or politics - to do so.
-- feminism. Feminism is not about angry women wanting a platform, and it's not about suggesting that only men are capable of oppression. Feminism is about acknowledging that an essential voice throughout history and in the world today is far too typically and easily ignored. It's mostly about wanting to live somewhere where mutuality and embrace are the norm rather than domination and alienation.
-- rethinking salvation. A step away from the traditional concepts of heaven and hell, toward a (hopefully) more complete desire for wholeness and justice (corporately, and then personally too).
-- rereading the bible. Trying to express an appreciation for the bible as a magnificent collection of literature - if not all literary masterpieces (some are, some aren't) than at least literary treasures. And trying to express that in such a way that doesn't warrant the assumption that I'd like to take God's voice out of the bible.
-- language. Not like cuss words and stuff. But an awareness of the affect of the words and symbols, images and metaphors that we use. How we term our world and articulate reality carries a lot. I consider the language we use to talk about God to be of specific, and even elevated, importance.

That's just a touch of the temperature of who I am or what I'm about (or what's the difference?) right now. Just a touch.

McTrees

I feel sorry for the trees off of interstate 84 planted in the picnic area of the McDonalds; situated there to give a touch of atmosphere to an otherwise plastic scene.
I feel like one of them someitmes. All tree-y and wild and connected to the earth with life and nourishment coursing, gracing through me. But my roots pressed up against the concrete of the suburbs, my soul situated in the midst of a plastic culture promising the fulfillment of plastic dreams.
It's hard to flourish beneathe the golden arches.