This was the Goodreads quote of the day a couple days ago.
"The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely." -Lorraine Hansberry
I've known for a while that I'm different, unusual. In Christianese, set apart. I am. God sees me, sees me. He's chosen me for some task, some life, some identity. I've no idea what task or what life. I've an idea of the identity. I feel different, distant from almost everyone I've ever known. Readers, you'll know if you're one of the exceptions.
I feel alone a lot. Well, more like misunderstood and discounted. Overpriced. Undervalued. Plain out used. I've felt the unfortunate kind of grey for a long time.
Grey is my favorite color. It complements everything, and yes, I mean complements. It can be warm or cool, the focus or the background. But people tend to make assumptions about it. Grey is not (always) morose or foreboding or practical. Grey is not (always) cold, unfeeling, uncomfortable.
The same assumptions come with my name and demeanor for some, for about half of my acquaintances I'd think. I am a lot of things. I am not one-sided.
I am feeling a bit gloomy and forlorn today. I feel alone in my convictions about what church is. I feel alone in my youthful discernment. I feel doubted and cheapened because of my employment and lifestyle and again, my youth.
But I don't know what it is that makes me exceptional, not really. I have my guesses. I am insightful. I see people clearly. I know what I believe and why. I know Who I believe. My heart longs for truth and real beauty and honest goodness. Some other things probably.
But it doesn't feel like that adds up to "exceptional." Does it?
Monday, May 20, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
#27. The Oddest Thing.
I have a job interview in the morning! !!!
It's with a Montessori school in D.C. and I'd be a teacher's assistant in their year-round program. The Montessori philosophy of learning and teaching is very close to what I want to have in a community center one day: curiosity-driven and individually-decided. Working with very tiny-ones aging somewhere around kindergarten. That's a new field for me and I'm looking forward to adding those skills to my belt o' knowledge. I was going to say "belt o' weapons" but considering recent events...better not.
Even though I just did.
I ran my second-ever 5k on Saturday afternoon. It happened to also be my second-ever Color Run, this time in Baltimore. Who knew that city was only 50 minutes from me anyway? Crazy. I ran the whole thing and was definitely not Caucasian when it was over. I would've looked more at home on Pandora (Avatar, anyone? Anyone? Love that movie. Don't care if it's a revamp of Pocahontas because I like that one too.)
Jim and I saw "The Great Gatsby" on Saturday also. I liked it. Not enough to see it again soon, but that's fairly much attributed to it holding true to the book. Don't expect happy. Don't expect good human beings. Expect chaos and glorious colors and motions and music. Leonardo DiCaprio was perfectly attractive and grotesque in the title role. Tobey Maguire's persistent on-screen awkwardness did him a favor in his depiction of Nick Carraway. Depth of character was on the minds of the correct few people.
We sat on a bench in the park talking until it got too chilly. Repeat on Sunday evening, after which we watched the tail end of the Survivor finale. Malcolm should've made it to the end and won everything but Cochran deserved it as well, on different merits.
Sunday was a do-nothing day. I read almost an entire Harry Potter book. I sat. I listened to the Yo-Yo Ma station on Pandora (this time the radio website, not the planet) and relaxed. Time was irrelevant and that was beautiful.
And Jim said "fixin' to" and that was priceless and proof that the South wins life.
The oddest thing happened to me Friday morning. I woke up. I know I was awake. God told me something insightful and clear. I started reveling in it and celebrating the communication. And then...it left. It just left. How does that happen? One second I know know KNOW and the next it was taken from me. It frustrated me all day. I eventually decided that if He wants me to remember or hear it again, He'll make that happen. I kept asking for revelation with no opening-of-doors in answer. I do hope He speaks again soon.
It's with a Montessori school in D.C. and I'd be a teacher's assistant in their year-round program. The Montessori philosophy of learning and teaching is very close to what I want to have in a community center one day: curiosity-driven and individually-decided. Working with very tiny-ones aging somewhere around kindergarten. That's a new field for me and I'm looking forward to adding those skills to my belt o' knowledge. I was going to say "belt o' weapons" but considering recent events...better not.
Even though I just did.
I ran my second-ever 5k on Saturday afternoon. It happened to also be my second-ever Color Run, this time in Baltimore. Who knew that city was only 50 minutes from me anyway? Crazy. I ran the whole thing and was definitely not Caucasian when it was over. I would've looked more at home on Pandora (Avatar, anyone? Anyone? Love that movie. Don't care if it's a revamp of Pocahontas because I like that one too.)
Jim and I saw "The Great Gatsby" on Saturday also. I liked it. Not enough to see it again soon, but that's fairly much attributed to it holding true to the book. Don't expect happy. Don't expect good human beings. Expect chaos and glorious colors and motions and music. Leonardo DiCaprio was perfectly attractive and grotesque in the title role. Tobey Maguire's persistent on-screen awkwardness did him a favor in his depiction of Nick Carraway. Depth of character was on the minds of the correct few people.
We sat on a bench in the park talking until it got too chilly. Repeat on Sunday evening, after which we watched the tail end of the Survivor finale. Malcolm should've made it to the end and won everything but Cochran deserved it as well, on different merits.
Sunday was a do-nothing day. I read almost an entire Harry Potter book. I sat. I listened to the Yo-Yo Ma station on Pandora (this time the radio website, not the planet) and relaxed. Time was irrelevant and that was beautiful.
And Jim said "fixin' to" and that was priceless and proof that the South wins life.
The oddest thing happened to me Friday morning. I woke up. I know I was awake. God told me something insightful and clear. I started reveling in it and celebrating the communication. And then...it left. It just left. How does that happen? One second I know know KNOW and the next it was taken from me. It frustrated me all day. I eventually decided that if He wants me to remember or hear it again, He'll make that happen. I kept asking for revelation with no opening-of-doors in answer. I do hope He speaks again soon.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
#26. Nothing, really.
It's been, what, three or four days since my last post?
Loads of earth-shattering occurrences have occurred.
Not really.
Well, I did ride a ferry for the first time ever today. That counts, right? I even drove my car onto it.
The job search is on and poppin'. I've sent out somewhere around 7 emails containing resumés and cover letters and pleas for employment. But I'd be lying to you if I said I felt hopeful about any of them in particular.
I'm entering that phase (again) where I forget how much I love talking with kids and playing with them and having the opportunity to make wise decisions affecting them. I forget that my ideas are valid and more than that, good.
I remember camp life like it's a different reality. In some ways it was (is.) I don't think I want it back. I want the freedom, passion, and challenge of it back. I want those people geographically near me again, even though I think this time of separation is necessary. I have learned about who I am apart from the predetermined definitions of Stacy that come along with first, second, third, and fourth summers at Look Up.
I now know that I am, in truth, myself. Who I became in the context of my past is who I sincerely am. No pretext, no façade.
I do not try to hide how insecure and weak I feel most days. It just takes some insight for others to be able to see it because I don't put it on display either. [I still wrestle constantly with the thought that I am nothing special, that I am ordinary in the most plain sense, and that those who see me don't truly see me. Once they do, they'll leave and move on to other (prettier/smarter/funnier/more spontaneous/prettier) people.]
Imagine how that fear winds itself in seemingly indestructible ways throughout my relationship with Jim. It's a fight, a real fight, for me to believe him and to believe the sincerity, honesty, and integrity of his actions and words. I absolutely hate that. He doesn't deserve my selfish doubt.
We went hiking today. It was lovely and good.
Loads of earth-shattering occurrences have occurred.
Not really.
Well, I did ride a ferry for the first time ever today. That counts, right? I even drove my car onto it.
The job search is on and poppin'. I've sent out somewhere around 7 emails containing resumés and cover letters and pleas for employment. But I'd be lying to you if I said I felt hopeful about any of them in particular.
I'm entering that phase (again) where I forget how much I love talking with kids and playing with them and having the opportunity to make wise decisions affecting them. I forget that my ideas are valid and more than that, good.
I remember camp life like it's a different reality. In some ways it was (is.) I don't think I want it back. I want the freedom, passion, and challenge of it back. I want those people geographically near me again, even though I think this time of separation is necessary. I have learned about who I am apart from the predetermined definitions of Stacy that come along with first, second, third, and fourth summers at Look Up.
I now know that I am, in truth, myself. Who I became in the context of my past is who I sincerely am. No pretext, no façade.
I do not try to hide how insecure and weak I feel most days. It just takes some insight for others to be able to see it because I don't put it on display either. [I still wrestle constantly with the thought that I am nothing special, that I am ordinary in the most plain sense, and that those who see me don't truly see me. Once they do, they'll leave and move on to other (prettier/smarter/funnier/more spontaneous/prettier) people.]
Imagine how that fear winds itself in seemingly indestructible ways throughout my relationship with Jim. It's a fight, a real fight, for me to believe him and to believe the sincerity, honesty, and integrity of his actions and words. I absolutely hate that. He doesn't deserve my selfish doubt.
We went hiking today. It was lovely and good.
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