Unfinished business

I am always surprised about what is unfinished in people's homes. I should start off by saying that there are several "unfinished" elements in my home. My room is a good example, not satisfied with off the shelf, it can take me years to finish decorating a room. I don't want to go purchase it all together (comforter sets don't work for me), but I desire to assemble it all over time...things get reinterpreted. My black and white prints from France: enlarged and copied onto parchment-looking paper. Pieces of fabric folded and placed over the top of my chair...but not really sewn or finished. Life happens with a bit of a fray around the edges and it comes together. Just about when it is finished, deconstruction starts to occur, or newer items replace older one: a souvenier from Uganda replaces the Scottish ones from a decade earlier.

So, I'm currently house/petsitting and the item that spawned this post, glared at me from the ceiling: four plaster patches of varying rectangular size on the den ceiling. The house is finished otherwise, but this spackling is looks like it was just put up. No sanding. No paint. Which makes curious as to why this repair even exists in spots about a foot from each other, random sizes and arrangements in relation to each other. Water leak? Nah, the bathroom is in a different section. Ceiling lighting? Not in that pattern...any other ideas...not really. I think that I shall have to ask the owner when she returns.

And we won't even start to talk about my bathroom...I'm not sure if it is on the reconstruction or deconstruction path...

The Consumerism of Christmas

I could start to rant and rave about the consumerism of Christmas. It is truly atrocious and ridiculous. But, for some reason I do not have it in me. Plus, I would probably just be preaching to the choir.

I truly like (maybe love) gift-giving. But, if you have known me long enough, youhave probably received a gift about six months late at least once. My family is famous for IOU presents. Which means that about 50% of the time they never really appear. But, that's ok, because it is the thought that counts.... This approach to gift giving does not really work well with friends and new family. Speaking of "new family", due to the addition of my brother-in-laws to the family, I have actually received real gifts for my birthday.

But, here is why I love gift giving for those I love. I really enjoy finding that one thing that they will find beautiful or that they were really hoping for, or a complete surprise. Most of the jewelry that I wear on a regular basis was given to me by two of my closest friends. I love seeing them wear jewely that I gave them...or my sisters wearing the scarves that I crocheted for them in my irregular knots, similar to a camel's gate. It is not so much the item, but the relationship that is brought closer. I don't give a lot of thought to witchcraft, but I find amulets to be quite interesting. Witchcraft attemptes to manipulate people by the use of matter, often. It can require an item of that person. Our things are physical extensions of ourselves, to a degree. They can have power over us, or we can have power over them. Or, sometimes, we are freed from them and them from us. Not to say that matter, the physical is bad, because I am neither a gnostic nor given to cultic beliefs that exalt the "non-physical". The physical can be sacred because the spiritual is not disconnected. That's why our bodies are sacred. They are temples of our soul (or possibly the Holy Spirit), so that's why violation of our bodies hurts so bad. But, anyways, I think that I was talking about something a little lighter-gifts. Gifts can be a physical manifestation of our love for each other. In "The Five Love Languages"-gift giving is one the "love languages". I admit that it is not my strongest "love language". I am not rally sure is....I speak them all pretty loudly and receive them pretty well, too!

So, gift-giving can be good. But, if the point about Christmas is lost in gift-buying, and sometimes the purchases are not to show love, but for other reasons. And the marketeers capitalize on this....it is how our society works. So, maybe for those that are finally starting to see the gluttonish consumerism, they can see that it applies to our lives in general-at least in the States. There are a couple of reactions that I have had to this behavior-one involving soap boxes and tired looks on my parents' face as discuss my feelings ad nauseum at the dinner table. I would make a call for ethical consumerism, because I cannot figure out how to extrapolate myself from the system (and the not-quite-sustainable farm in West Virginia doesn't look like it is going to happen). Maybe it is not perfect (maybe Fair Trade doesn't work??!! It was my hope!), but it is a better way. Things are pretty broken here on planet Earth (and apparently we are polluting the space around our orb, too), but we can try for a better way. Fair trade. Buy red. Buy local (I have heard some contrary opinions on this). Eat organic, if not for your body for the birds and land and migrant workers and everyone...which can be expensive. Just be a little more conscious about how you spend money and enjoy the things that really matter....like your little sister making a collage (yes, she is young enough to be my daughter!), a friend's Christmas card in the mail (even without a limerick), the smell of the tree, hope that things can be better. Man, I am such an idealist....well, not really, but you have to read more.

ramblings

Often, when I am walking down the street or sitting on the lite rail, narratives run through my head of events that occur or little thoughts that I could write in my blog. But, I am so far from my computer and too lazy (often) to write them down. So...brain synapses happen, but nothing more. However, my one apparent fan of the blog (ex-boyfriend mentioned previously) has asked me to update my blog. But, he is going to need to respond to my blog at some point....

Lately, I have noticed smells. I mean, I notice the bad smells all the time. The pollution. Human smell on the streets. etc. But a smell hit me the other day, walking down Baltimore Street, that reminded me of London. All of a sudden, I felt that I was walking down Oxford Street. It was the weirdest sensation. There are days this fall that hit me like England...they remind me of a damp Devon winter day. All that a day like that holds...tea with milk, a chocolate biscuit, a warm cozy wrap and maybe someone else to go along with it. Or, from my earlier days as a young teen, the wind howling through the vale, rattling up on the windows, little drafts pushing me deeper into a wool blanket. Memories. They come fleeting, just wiffs of the past. Sometimes I want to cry because of how time goes by. Friendships won and lost. People that I loved but can never find again. Other times, memories are just a sensation. No regrets (these memories apply more to my early twenties) and how the world is this great big place with amazing opportunities. Sometimes, the memories are anxious, like the feeling that elevator exhaust, that metallic taste creates. It reminds me of Indonesia and Dubrovnik-places designated as resorts, but some sort of work for me.

Memories are weird things. My friend reminded me that we met three years ago. That's a long time. But, I have other friends I met back in 1997, 9 years ago. And we are closer than ever, I think. I hope.

I don't have many regrets....life brings experiences. I may not have acted in the wisest manner always, but I have experienced a lot of grace and love and some hurt and pain as well. But, it all creates a life.

Post-Thanksgiving Anxiety

Well, the end of Thanksgiving weekend heralds the beginning of the Christmas season and then the New Year. I spent most of this week sick with the cold from not-a-nice place. I am still fighting off its effects.

However, it was a nice week otherwise. My sister from FL came to visit this weekend. She was "babysitting" my little sister who lives here. So, we had lots of "sister" moments with the little one hitting us on our butts and telling us that we are her sisters. She thinks that everyone has sisters a couple decades older than they are. Funny....we try to explain that a babysitter is not necessarily a sibling....

So, I want to get back to my writing about my friends. My ex, who I wrote briefly about in the last post called me up to let me know that he thought my post was innacurate-our relationship did not start slow....of course, it took years for him to make a move. It was a fast move, though! So, I suppose that I stand corrected in one aspect, but I am still right from my perspective.

My PT anxiety stems from the fact that I am procrastinating with life. I know that I want to go to grad school, but I am not sure what to study. I know that I need to take the GRE for some courses of study. Top that off with a heavy dose of feeling age creep up on me and I end up with anxiety. I feel like all of the things that I learned while reading "Ruthless Trust" have fallen quickly to the wayside. So, I suppose that I am going to pick myself up, realize that I have time. Time to be. Today I was told that I was loved for who I was/am. My rational self screams against this. And yet, that is all that I want. Not to be loved for my perceived "goodness", or my lofty dreams, my silliness, or even my exellent cooking skills (which are highly debatable). I have nothing to say at this point.

Slightly delayed Thanksgiving

Earlier this week I had a great thought about a way to celebrate-or live out-Thanksgiving to my friends. One of my friends introduced me to "The Color Code" a while back. I want to say that it was when I broke up with my last boyfriend. I know that most people drown their sorrows in booze and chocolate and misery when they break up, which did make a fleeting appearance in our night, but we are frankly far too nerdy to be that hedonistic. So, we do personality testing. My friend is a "white" (she also introduced me to blogging BTW). She thought that I would be a "blue". I was not (she did inform me that the test was not as thorough as the test in the book, which I have owned for several years, but not ventured very far into). Anyway, so, I thought that I would dedicate the next few blogs to my "colorful" friends.

First, there are the "whites". They are characterized by a personality that is motivated by seeking peace. There are three close friends of mine who I know fit this category: my friend who introduced me to "the color code" (incidentally, her blog is in the crowded wilderness), my closest friend in my state, and my ex-boyfriend. The whites keep me kind of sane-they help me seek peace in my life when I find it in turmoil. You would think that they would avoid conflict and therefore me (sometimes they do), but I have found them instrumental in helping me seek peace within myself and with others. I have some theories on why this is true, but in the end I am extremely grateful for these individuals. I can keep myself wound up in anxiety and huge possibilities for a while, but they can help me to seek my center and find out who I truly am.

So, for my first friend, she kept me sane in Tanzania when I was having such a difficulty reconciling the experiences with the local nationals and expats, with my experiences within what we will call "my academic community". I wanted to be in Tanzania, embracing all that it was and I felt that others were constantly pulling their western culture into the experience. I am not sure that I can reconcile the western experience with the one in Tanzania. I am not sure that I want to. There is a certain element of just letting things be and enjoying them. The culture stress that other people were in drove me nuts. I'm not the most understanding person at times. This friend also provided several much needed retreats from life as I knew it and such a blessing to my life and encouragement to get off my butt and stop whining.

My second "white" friend is part of one of my closest and longest-running friendships. I'm not sure that we really knew each other until a couple of years ago, when we started to really rub up next to each other and have our faults exposed to ourselves and then be able to go to each other and "confess" them (for lack of better word). This brings up a point about community for me. To truly know someone, we have to be able to let our ugly stuff show, making ourselves vulnerable enough that we might face rejection. But, being true to ourselves and others (including God), is the only way that we can live free. So, back to my friend and away from my diatribe. Man, I love that girl. She has put up with a ton of crap and judgementalism and actually felt it worthwhile to love me. Because she is more sensitive than I am, I can see how the broken things inside storm out and affect her...and that helps me to reflect on who I am, seek wholeness and a better relationship with her. She calls out the creative in me, too, which I hide because I have a hard time managing life and being creative at the same time (it gets very messy).

My third "white" person is a completely different experience. We dated on-and-off over a period last year. It was a slow relationship and has settled into an interesting friendship. Sometimes I think that we both want to fix each other: he would appreciate a 5-year plan from me and actually carrying out some of the things that talk about and I would appreciate acknowledgement of an emotionally true life. But, he is constant and faithful. Lives a relatively moral upright life (which contrasts my sometimes not-so moral living...but Christianity's main focus is not the moral life, but a transformed one) compared to men in his demographic. So, I am thankful for him and his presence in my life.

OK, well, to all you "whites" out there, I am extremely grateful that you are in my life. I know that I have not even touched on my family...that just might be too emotionally confusing to even approach. More to come later....hmmm, perhaps the "reds"??

The Changeover

So, I have decided to change my blog. I wasn't too inspired to write at my old blog and there was something that was not right. But, I was struck with reading Brennan Manning's book "Ruthless Trust" by a comment he made about visiting friends when he visited certain cities. He knew that their interaction would not be for long or on a consistent basis, but it was still a good thing. I have also met many people on the journey whom I no longer live near, but they still have a piece of my heart. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. When I was younger and moved around about once a year, I felt incredibly grieved that I did not have a sense of home. The relationships that helped create a sense of self were not consistent or easily accessible. Now, I have settled down to a certain extent-I have lived in the same vicinity for over three years; I have essentially had two jobs except for a 6 month transition which proved invaluable; I have friends that I see on a consistent basis (some I have known for almost 8 years); I have a faith community that I call my own, even when I feel uncomfortable there. But, there is always a yearning for something more in me. I often feel adrift because of the little transitions and that I really don't have a plan pointing me in a certain direction. I thought that I had a plan, but I have not achieved it in the time-line that I had projected, and I feel that the path may be heading in a different direction that I thought.

So, here I am on a Sunday night, starting a new blog. Not really sure if I will have blog companions... but we'll see. If nothing else, I can write quotes and pontificate on their virtues or rail against the injustices of the world. But, I do have Thanksgiving blogs planned for this whole week.