Media Fast

I am embarking on a 45 day electronic media fast, lasting from November 1st to December 15th. This will coincide with a portion of the Eastern Orthodox Nativity fast. I feel called during this period to refrain from:

TV
movies
the radio
music, with the exception of that which is performed in person
the Internet, excluding school-related research and university email

Because of the appeal for help with Urbana fundraising which I posted, I will continue to check my Yahoo email account in case someone responds, but only for that purpose.

The telephone is permitted, as are newspapers, books, and magazines.

I am engaging in this fast because I feel called to listen during this time, to eliminate distractions and all the things I use to try and fill the emptiness inside of me apart from God. I want to focus on discipline, on giving my attention to the tasks at hand, on doing my duty. So often I try and escape reality through entertainment. I want to be renewed, recreated. I want to look only to God to fill my inner longings and hunger. I want to engage with Him and the people around me. I want to listen. I want to be faithful, not running after idols. I want to end the harlotry of my heart.

Peace

I think that peace can only come from doing one's duty, whatever that may be, and prayerfully commending the rest to God.

Pain

I think that love unexpressed is the greatest pain.

Center

Where is your center? What is your anchor?

Vanity

It is vanity to fear loss of self when my self is in Christ and cannot be lost.

Condiment Hoarder, Oh Dear

Something has happened to me that I could have never foreseen. I have become a condiment hoarder. I have tidy little stacks of saltine crackers in shiny, festive red wrappers that rustle when you touch them, soothingly bland non-dairy creamers, lemon herbal tea bags, and honey packets tucked away. This makes me feel somehow secure.

Oh, dear God, this does not bode well for my future. I am having sudden visions of myself as an elderly woman, feeding too many cats from cupboards stuffed to bursting with tiny jam packets and stale rolls smuggled furtively out of restaurants in an oversized handbag.

Gratitude

Thank you, DayQuil, for giving me back my sense of smell. I missed it.

Urbana

Okay, this isn't my style, but what the hey, I'm gonna put this out there anyway. In the grand tradition of savekaryn.com, I am going to ask for help. I really want to get to InterVarsity's student missions conference, Urbana, this year. I am a poor, working college student. I have paid the $100 registration fee. And that's all I have. This conference, which focuses on such international social justice issues as AIDS and slum communities of the developing world, only happens once every three years. It will cost $350, which includes dinners for December 27th through December 31st. That does not include airfare, a hotel room (which I would likely share with three other women), or breakfast/lunch. I am not a person who usually asks for things, but in this case, I will make an exception. If you are able to financially assist me to make this dream a reality for me, I will accept your help gratefully. If you are interested, please email me (my email address is listed under my profile). If anyone actually responds, I will set up a designated bank account for this purpose and publicly post my progress towards a set amount to be determined upon further research into hotels and air fares. Thank you!

P.S. Unlike Karyn, I have never bought Prada pumps.

All-Nighters

When it comes to college success, I would add that all-nighters are to be avoided at all costs, except that I have never taken that advice.

Proof that Cheyenne is in the Middle of Midterms

I have worn the same clothes for three days in a row. Really. I have OCD. I never do that. It's definitely midterms.

The Homework Grid

One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received about college success was given to me by my step-brother, Josh, who taught me how to use his genius invention, the homework grid. He told me, as I was preparing to start university coursework, "Take a sheet of paper and make yourself a grid. On the left side of the paper, write the days of the week in descending order, Monday through Sunday. On the top of the paper, write the names of your classes left to right in the order in which you attend them. Monday classes come before Tuesday classes, and 9 a.m. classes come before 11 a.m. classes. Put the dates in and make yourself a page for each week of the term. Then, when you receive assignments, write them in on their due dates. Write in tests on the days that they occur. Now you have a visual layout of what is due and when. Every spare scrap of time you have, work on your assignments left-to-right and top-to-bottom. And above all, don't get behind."

This has proven to be a highly effective method of task management, though of course I have gotten behind. I combine the homework grid with weekly time-blocking (wherein activities and tasks are scheduled for blocks of time throughout the day hour by hour on a large weekly grid that shows mealtimes, work times, study times, etc.). I don't follow this perfectly, but it provides a nice idealized structural framework, reassuring me that I do have time for my commitments. And sometimes it is necessary to work, not left-to-right, top-to-bottom, but by priority level. And that's okay. The important thing is to have a handle on what is due and when.

When I have used the homework grid, I have generally done well. And when I haven't... well, I haven't.

By the way, he is Dr. Josh now, so his advice can be trusted.

When I am particularly stressed or lacking motivation, I indulge my inner kindergartner by awarding myself a gold foil star on my calendar for each hour of homework completed.

The other cherished words spoken to me were (prior to an important test about which I was hugely anxious), "Yes, you can do it well." Thank you, Mom. And I did. And I can.

Reflections of a College Senior

Do what is necessary, and maybe a little bit more, but don't try to be a perfect student, or you will just set yourself up for failure. The perfect is the enemy of the good. Cultivate community and nurture your friendships. Learning is a life-long process. Learning how to learn is more important than memorizing facts. Maintain your integrity. Let your voice be heard. Silence can be a virtue. Let your curiosity lead you. Be inspired. Challenge yourself. Discover and nourish your passions. Find a mentor or mentor someone yourself. Befriend a professor. Success is not an "A" - it is doing your best. Don't skip classes - it becomes a downward spiral. Don't decide to give up coffee during midterms week. Facebook is a double-edged sword. You are not majoring in blogging. Get enough sleep, but not too much. Procrastination never pays. Ask questions during lecture, and sit near the front of the classroom. Read your syllabi and refer to them often. If you're having trouble, talk to the professor. It's okay to wear your clothes more than once before washing them. Be persistent. Repetition and practice are powerful allies in establishing good habits. Read as much as you can, but it's okay to skim sometimes. Pray. Enjoy beauty. Find sources of joy. Listen to good music. See some great foreign or arthouse films. Oh, and the homework grid is genius.

Coming Clean

I'm not a vegan anymore. But I'm still a vegetarian who doesn't wear leather or wool. :) And veganism is still on my list of long-range goals. For when I have a kitchen of my own...

Positive Attitude

So there's this thing I've heard a lot about. It's called a "positive attitude." Think I'll give it a try.

Did you know?

Vegetarians save 95 lives a year.

School Spirit

I am not a person who has ever had a great deal of school spirit. In fact, I have hardly had any at all. I don't like sports. I don't understand football. I have never been a fan of our team. I have always begrudged the funds received by the athletic department at the expense of academics. But when the Vandals won the homecoming game last weekend, the whole town was in a better mood, and it was contagious.

And to the girl who threw me the "rock on" sign from the open window of your car while yelling "Go Vandals!"... I was confused at first, until I realized that I was wearing a Vandal tee-shirt emblazoned with our school colors. And then I was surprised - and even happy - to realize that I, too, felt a swell of pride well up in my chest. Thank you. You made my day.

Who knows?... Maybe I'll even go to a game one of these times. There may be a little silver and gold in these veins after all.

Alert Clocks

Why are alarm clocks called alarm clocks? They should be called alert clocks. I don't want to be alarmed when I wake up in the morning, I want to be alert.

As my mother always says...

Don't be a don't be, be a do be!

Jerk

Have you ever noticed how, when you've been a big jerk, and people are nice to you about it, it makes you feel like an even bigger jerk? Yeah, see my previous post. It explains everything.

Pedestrian Rage

Let me preface this story by assuring you, the reader, that I don't just go around flipping people off. In fact, I have flipped off drivers only twice in my entire life. That's two times too many, of course, but road rage - or in this case, pedestrian rage - is extremely uncharacteristic for me. In general, I consider myself to be a peaceful person who tries to give others the benefit of the doubt.

But tonight was a different story. I was walking to the store on our local bicycle path in the darkness of the night when I came to a crosswalk near a busy intersection. I waited for an opening in the traffic, and when it looked like there was ample time for me to cross, I started walking. When I was halfway across the street, a pair of headlights suddenly veered towards me at top speed, forcing me to stop and almost hitting me. In a burst of anger accompanied instantly by guilt, I cursed the car and flipped the driver off. A second too late, I recognized the car. The driver looked familiar, too. Yes, in a town with a population of more than 22,000, it was my mother.

The car slowed and came to a stop. A little afraid, not knowing what to do, I kept on walking. After a minute, she drove away. Overwhelmed by remorse, I reversed my course and headed home to make the phone call. My sister answered my mother's cell.

"Uh, did you just have an unusual traffic incident?" I asked, just to be sure.

"Yes," she said. She sounded surprised.

"Can I talk to Mom?"

"Okay." She handed the phone to my mother.

"Uh, um... Mom? Did I just flip you off?"

"Yes," she said.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I don't normally do things like that. I'm so sorry." The words came pouring out of me in shame.

I thought she'd be angry, but she just seemed amused. She actually laughed, intensifying my mortification. "That's okay. It didn't hurt my feelings any. But you really shouldn't wear black when you walk alone at night. I couldn't see you in the darkness, and if you hadn't stopped, I would have hit you for sure." My wonderful mother - so undeserving of disrespect - was more concerned for my safety than anything else.

After listening to more apologizing, she finally stopped me. "Stop saying you're sorry. It's okay. I forgive you. Do you still need to go to the store? I'll give you a ride."

The moral of the story is... don't flip people off. They just might turn out to be your mother.

P.S. She's actually a really good driver.

Fairy Tales

I'll admit that sometimes I long to be part of a fairy tale story. I want to be rescued, swept up out of the mire of my ordinary life, loved passionately, made into a princess. I have always been fascinated with fairy tales, but am well aware that they have been criticized by some in our society who believe that they undermine girls' belief in their self-sufficiency and their instinct for self-determination. They reinforce an unrealistic idealism, promote a passive approach to life, prevent us from fashioning our own stories. We ought to rescue ourselves - if, indeed, we need to be rescued at all.

Still, fairy tales endure in all their grim beauty.

I think that's because there is something in us that responds to these archetypal patterns of distress, rescue, transformation.

And it occurs to me that I am taking part in a fairy tale story. But it is not some handsome stranger who has come to me, it is the Prince of Peace himself.

Listen

Sometimes I think how much simpler it would be if I could hear Him speak audibly, how much less difficult. I cry out, "God, why can't I hear you? Please, speak to me." And in the silence is the reply. He forces us to listen, ever more intently, with our hearts.

Broken Whole

We are flawed and broken beings, but we also have the capacity to be healed, to be whole. And therein lies the miracle.

Forgiveness

I don't believe that forgiveness is necessarily a forgetting, but it is a ceasing to continually remind.

Engage

It occurred to me tonight while I was smoking a cigarette that when we self-medicate, we essentially withdraw from God's presence and from His reaching out to heal our wounds. We try to fill the void ourselves. There are many things I do to escape from an often painful reality: sleep excessively or not enough, smoke, overeat, seek entertainment when there are pressing tasks at hand. But the solution is not to escape from the threat of despair, but to engage. It is easy to forget how many people there are working to make the world a better place. We will never achieve utopia (literally "no place") or fully eradicate suffering, but we can still reach people with kindness and positive action. We can still tend to the Creation. We can still offer our hearts and lives to Him for restoration and renewal. We live in a fallen world, but it is also a beautiful one. And ultimately, Reality is His domain. Hope lives.

Paradox

I am beginning to understand that it is not freedom that my soul craves, but discipline.

And it is only in labor that I will find rest.

And it is only in bondage to Christ that I will find liberation.

To be one of the mad ones...

"...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

--Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Reflections Upon an All-Night Paper-Writing Session

1. Old library books are dirty and yucky.
2. Literary criticism by male academics authoring books published in the 1960s on famous women poets of the 17th century makes me want to go join the National Organization for Women.
3. Bobby pins are a girl's best friend.
4. I ♥ Hillary exceedingly much.
5. Exceedingly is a fun word to use when you are sleep-deprived.
6. One should not stay up until 6 a.m. writing a paper only to sleep through the class in which the paper is due after deciding, "I'll just get a couple hours of sleep."

The Gospel in a Nutshell

I love the way Jeremiah sums up the gospel. He says, "Basically, Jesus told death to stick it."

Greyhound Bus

Every time I see the Greyhound bus pass through our local bus depot, I have this wild urge to fling caution and convention to the wind, run up those few short steps, and settle into a seat. I almost don't care where the Greyhound is going, I just want to get on board. Sometimes, when I know that bus would carry me to Portland, it's all I can do to keep my legs marching forward. I think heaven might be a knapsack packed with a few bare essentials, a journal, a good book or two, and a bus/amtrak ticket. I could tour the countryside, have conversations with a hundred random strangers, drink a thousand cups of coffee, each brewed by different hands, and wake to a sunrise on a different horizon every morning.

I love my little town. Really, I do. Still, this strange, sweet longing stirs within me every time I pass a Greyhound bus.

An Inconvenient Truth

See it. As soon as possible. Just resist the urge to hurl yourself over the edge of a melting ice cap afterwards.