Fossils of academia

I was at my parents' house yesterday, going through my old closet. I came across the giant three-ring binder from high school that had a bunch of my old papers and projects inside. I vaguely remember a teacher handing out these folders to the whole class sometime during ninth grade and telling us to use them to file our work throughout high school. At the time, I didn't really see the point of it (why save my graded homework after the class was over?), but evidently I followed the directions often enough to accumulate a fairly hefty stack of work. Now, of course, I'm glad I did.

My favorites to re-read were probably the book reports from AP English senior year. I guess I was a decent writer for a high-schooler (though of course I laughed at my younger, inexperienced self a few times too), and I read some excellent books that year. At one point I was reading Alan Paton's Ah, But Your Land Is Beautiful, and now that I've spent quite a bit of time studying South African culture and history, I should really go back and read it again. (I don't really remember it, but the themes of my paper were intriguing.)

Among the files of class writings, I found a personality assessment I had apparently taken for a class. Based on its placement in the binder, it looks to be from sophomore year, though I don't know what it was used for. Naturally, being myself, I was curious enough to take it again and see how my results had changed in seven years.

A few observations:

1. One of the first things I noticed was that only two areas of intelligence had lowered, while five indicated that my aptitude had increased. Does this mean that I've actually become stronger in all these areas (a product of life experiences, higher education, seeing the world, etc.)? Or is this an instance of increased confidence leading to higher self-evaluation? Either one seems plausible.
2. I've always had an aptitude for music, but after spending four years earning my bachelor's degree in violin performance, I'm gratified to see the increase. (At least, as much as I can be gratified by an entirely subjective, not-very-extensive personality test that I spent about eight minutes taking.)
3. And speaking of increases, let's talk about that kinesthetic situation. Anyone who knew me well in high school and still knows me well now probably wouldn't be surprised, but it does look a little extreme. It's important to note that I went through a phase (if 6+ years can be called a phase) in which I hated essentially all forms of exercise. I did not like sweating. I did not like the feeling of exertion. And I especially detested all sports (except horseback riding, which I loved).                                                                                                                       Things have changed. I became a camp counselor, where being active (and sweating) was a huge part of the lifestyle...and I loved it. Over the course of the next few years, I became who I am now -- an avid bike commuter, a lover of hiking and being outdoors, a gardener, a frequent exerciser, and pretty much willing to try any kind of physical activity as long as it doesn't require much hand-eye coordination. (I still don't love sports though.)
4. I was and still am extremely introspective. (Probably the reason I love personality quizzes.) I have a passion for the infinite complexity of all human beings, and the deep well to be tapped within every single person on earth. I love figuring out what makes people do what they do. And it's natural for this process of exploring and understanding people to start and end with myself.

I'm happy with the ways I've changed. And I wonder what kind of person I'll become in another seven years.

2015 Reading Update

In April I finally finished reading Love in the Time of Cholera, thus completing my March item from the 2015 Reading Challenge: "a book that was originally written in another language." I loved this book. It is extremely dense (hence the few extra weeks it took me to finish the book), but I was (and still am) in awe of the narrative scope. Gabriel Garcia Marquez achieves something at which many writers would fail, unveiling a lifelong love story with complex characterization, hilarious encounters, profound realizations, and rich, unencumbered detail. It was amazing; a page could contain multitudes. A seemingly major plot element could be revealed and resolved within a single sentence or paragraph. You could miss whole love affairs if you stopped paying attention for a moment.

These are my most bookmark-worthy favorite lines:

She awoke long before dawn and lay exhausted and wakeful, with her eyes closed, thinking of the countless years she still had to live. (p.137)

No: he would never reveal it, not even to Leona Cassiani, not because he did not want to open the chest where he had kept it so carefully hidden for half his life, but because he realized only then that he had lost the key. (p.192)

All at once, in the large mirror on the back wall, he caught a glimpse of Fermina Daza sitting at a table with her husband and two other couples, at an angle that allowed him to see her reflected in all her splendor. She was unguarded, she engaged in conversation with grace and laughter that exploded like fireworks, and her beauty was more radiant under the enormous teardrop chandeliers: once again, Alice had gone through the looking glass. (p. 228)

Florentino Ariza always forgot when he should not have that women, and Prudencia Pitre more than any other, always think about the hidden meanings of questions more than about the questions themselves. (p. 287)

Unperturbed, he took off his eyeglasses with a characteristic gesture, he flooded her with the transparent waters of his childlike eyes, and in a single phrase he burdened her with the weight of his unbearable wisdom: "Always remember that the most important thing in a good marriage is not happiness, but stability." With the first loneliness of her widowhood she had understood that the phrase did not conceal the miserable threat that she had attributed to it so many times, but was the lodestone that had given them both so many happy hours. (p. 300)

Maybe I'll tackle One Hundred Years of Solitude sometime now that I've got my first GGM novel behind me (and well worth the time indeed).

Coming soon, since I'm behind on blogging -- a discussion on my May choice, "a book from your childhood." And, okay, I couldn't resist taking this opportunity to re-read one of my favorite series as a kid, and it did not disappoint.

What are you reading this month??

Around the internet

So, I read a lot of articles. I'm constantly discovering awesome things online and usually want to share them with people. Sometimes, though, they just end up buried in one of my many bookmark folders to be re-discovered (by me) later. Anyway, here are a few of my recent discoveries that are, in my opinion, the most deserving of attention.

• "How to Take Long Showers and Still Save the World From Drought": 
• A fascinating look at our water usage and what we should really be thinking about. I generally think I know a lot about environmental issues, but I learned some things. Also, it's an environmental article that doesn't make you feel overwhelmingly hopeless! http://www.huffingtonpost.com/adam-j-rose/how-to-take-long-showers_b_6875644.html
• The truth about Dominion Resources
• A very well-made infographic tour about the realities of our electricity sources in Virginia. http://www.domtruth.org/
• The Infinite Hotel Paradox
• The paradox: A hotel that is always completely full -- but always has room for more. This is a TED-Ed video explaining a classic mathematical brain twister. Don't let the math-y-ness scare you, because as usual, TED is awesome. 

• "The Moral Bucket List": 
• A New York Times column about what one should strive to achieve in one's lifetime in order to become someone who "radiates an inner light." So worth reading. http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/12/opinion/sunday/david-brooks-the-moral-bucket-list.html

Dreaming of peace

I'm not one to remember dreams easily. I keep a dream journal for the ones that are vivid enough for me to recall more than just a few images, but the entries are rare, usually spaced a month or more in between.

Last night I had a dream in which I could remember most of the storyline. As with many dreams, it has laughably unrealistic elements, but upon waking, I was struck by the thread of transformation that runs throughout.

----------------------

I dreamed that I, together with a group of nameless acquaintances and friends, was sent into a building with an important task: to search the building for an escaped criminal who had not yet been found. His crimes were unclear to me, but he was thought to be dangerous.

Our group ascended the floors of the building to the very top, many stories high, into a darkened attic. We began to search the shadowy space, cluttered with boxes and furniture, and I was afraid. Before long, a member of the group found the fugitive hiding in a corner. As soon as we all saw him crouched there, it became clear to me that he was not a man, but a large dog. The man who had found him grabbed him, but he escaped. I was one of those closest, so I dove after him in pursuit.

The dog had escaped down a sort of passageway that led downward to the ground floor of the building. Rather than stairs or an elevator, there were a series of platforms and ropes, and somehow I knew how to use the ropes to swing myself down and down past the platforms, sort of like Tarzan's vines, but only straight downward. After doing this for a short while, I figured out a way to descend two platforms in one swing, which was twice as fast. I found the dog and grabbed it tight.

It wasn't the large dog I thought I had seen earlier - it was only a little shih tzu. It bit and gnawed my hand so that it bled, but I held on while someone ran to get help. 

As I continued to hold this little dog, I cradled it against my body, and soon looked down to find that it was not a dog at all - it was a newborn baby. The baby fell fast asleep, and I held it against me as it slept.

--------------------------

When I relive the story in terms of its basic events, it's nothing more than a funny collection of weird occurrences that can only happen in dreams. But as I reflected on the dream this morning, I was moved by its incredibly hopeful depiction of "evil". In this case, evil was personified as an escaped criminal, who devolved step by step into a large dog, then a small one, and finally a peacefully sleeping baby. When my dream self faced the perceived danger head-on, I found that it wasn't dangerous at all. There was only love.

May it be so with our perceptions of evil in the world today.

With love for a flower and a poem

Apparently it's National Poetry Month! So it makes sense to share a poem that always floats through my thoughts (for obvious reasons) during the first few days of spring every year. Because who doesn't love to see (or even just think about) daffodils?


I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Beautiful Dawn

Does anyone else have a song that is your absolute favorite?

Mine is this one.

"Beautiful Dawn" by the Wailin' Jennys has been my favorite song in all the world ever since I was in high school. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that in the good times and the hard times, this song has been there for me. If my life had a soundtrack album, this song would be on it twice, because it's that important to me. If Amortentia from Harry Potter really existed, and if it could evoke sounds in addition to smells, it would cause me to hear this song. I hope all of you love it too, but if you don't, you should probably keep that information to yourself.

Of course, my broad, nonspecific adoration for the Wailin' Jennys causes me to love ALL of their songs. Even my least favorite songs of theirs are still great.

So anyway, I'm just curious if anyone else feels this way about a specific song -- or even an album or an artist. What do you wish everyone else would listen to?


[If you don't listen to the song, at least read the words.]


Take me to the breaking of a beautiful dawn
Take me to the place where we come from
Take me to the end so I can see the start
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I don't feel so small
Take me where I don't need to stand so tall
Take me to the edge so I can fall apart
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where love isn't up for sale
Take me where our hearts are not so frail
Take me where the fire still owns its spark
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Teach me how to see when I close my eyes
Teach me to forgive and to apologize
Show me how to love in the darkest dark
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where the angels are close at hand
Take me where the ocean meets the sky and the land
Show me to the wisdom of the evening star
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I feel no shame
Take me where the courage doesn't need a name
Learning how to cry is the hardest part
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

2015 reading challenge

So it looks like I'm following this book challenge:

http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2015/01/2015-reading-challenge/

I happened to receive All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr as a Christmas gift and started reading it immediately. When I came across the above list, it was obvious that "a book that's currently on the bestseller list" was a natural place to start, because All the Light We Cannot See is not only a current bestseller, it is also widely considered to be one of the best books of 2014. And I so agree.

My rating: Five stars. Unquestionably. I would try to describe why, but it's hard to put it into words, because my words are so much less beautiful and illuminating and masterful than the words that are in this book. Read it!

For February, I chose "a book you've been meaning to read," because I have tons of those. I am an extreme bibliophile, which results in me frequently checking out books at the library when I already have stacks of unread books at home.

So I picked up July, July by Tim O'Brien. I hadn't read O'Brien since high school (The Things They Carried), but I had bought this one at a Gift & Thrift Book Sale quite a while ago, and I seem to remember it being recommended to me by someone or other.

My rating: Four stars
My review (as written on Goodreads): Perfectly encapsulated snippets of the monumental and the minutiae which, when woven together, form a portrait of a generation. This is a testament to the universal tendencies of humanity - love, resentment, failure, luck, tragedy, friendship, regret - and the stories that shape us all. 
This is one of those books that I hold in higher esteem after having finished it than I did while reading it. The more you read, the more it comes together.

In March, I'm planning to read Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez to fulfill "a book that was originally written in another language." I have never read any GGM (except for one short story), which feels wrong. One Hundred Years of Solitude has piqued my interest, but I'll admit that it feels like a daunting place to start. What I know about these two works is that they're very well-written and rewarding, but difficult in certain respects (extremely wordy sentences, everybody having the same name, etc.), so I opted for the shorter one. 

Hopefully writing about it now will give me enough accountability (which, given my recent literary diet of mostly YA fiction, is probably much needed) to actually follow through. 

What are you reading this month? :)

January glimpses

It is a dissonant day. I slide off my bicycle at the foot of our driveway, the last, steepest mountain to ascend before reaching home. My heart pounds insistently in the base of my throat, and I unzip the top of my rain jacket so the chilly air cools my sweaty neck.

I always walk my bike up the driveway, usually slowly, a chance to relax and take in the day before going inside again. Today, as I start the climb, tiny dots of snow begin to swirl, confused missives whirling in every direction, though the biting wind has lessened. Far above, wispy thin white clouds give way to pockets of powder-blue sky, glimpses of fair weather while massive grey storm clouds loom imperviously. And here I am, far below, small. Is it strange that I feel the most comfortable in my own life when it is placed in a context of incomprehensible vastness?

There aren't a lot of wonderful things about biking in the winter, but this is one of the moments that is worth it: a perspective that reminds me of my own insignificance in the best sense, something I never get from driving my car.

Our lawn sports a track of bicycle wheels through the snow from our front door to the shed, and I think about the many creatures that make their homes under the snow. Today is a reminder to choose a good life, to be alive before I die, and yet also to remember: I am only one of millions upon millions of creatures to carve out their little homes in the snow.

at the close of 2014

Posting this again because I love it.


Our Ends Are Beginnings by ParadisiacPicture on DeviantArt

In Short: Why I Love Harry Potter

In addition to my predetermined Advent reading, I've also indulged in a little Harry Potter re-reading. (If the 870 pages of Order of the Phoenix can be called "a little.") In the final chapter, I discovered this gem, which I'm pretty sure I missed every other time I read it.

"There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything else, though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, there seemed to be some improvement."

Weaving together the whimsical and the profound in a single sentence, with a touch of humor. (And the idea that thoughts can cause more damage than any other kind of wound...how had I missed that little side commentary before?) If you haven't read this series lately, I highly recommend it. It means at least as much to me now as it did when I first read it as a child. Now more than ever, I can see that it's the perfect combination of an exciting fantasy world, excellent character development and writing style, and - in an incredibly heartfelt, honest manner - the simple triumph of good over evil.

Advent/Darkness

Foremost on my mind this week is the difficulty in reconciling the hope of this season with the incredible brokenness of this world. Perhaps it's always been this way, but for whatever reason, the past few weeks and months have felt like one horrible thing after another, just piling on and on and on. It could be my propensity for reading the news nowadays, a stark contrast to my college days of basically existing in a world independent of politics and international news. Anyway, some days I've felt like it's too much. Ferguson/police brutality, war and its victims worldwide, the continual poisoning of the Earth, the pervasiveness of rape and sexual assault (and the denial of such) connected to Bill Cosby, UVA, and also everywhere in the world....and more. Much more.

I care about it all, and I want to honor these situations by giving them my full attention and access to my emotions. I won't give in to that instinct to look away. And yet, it's too much for me to carry.

I began to realize that this is why we need Advent. Not because it's easy to feel happy and hopeful, but because the darkness of the world is crying out for light.

I think Christena Cleveland says it best in her blog post entitled "Advent/Darkness":

We’ve been tricked by chocolate-filled Advent calendars and blissful Christmas pageants that gloss over the very real evil that makes the Messiah’s coming so very necessary, so very loving, and so very heroic.

Advent isn’t a holiday party. It doesn’t pressure us to conjure up a hopeful face, ring bells, and dismiss the foulest realities we face. Advent isn’t about our best world, it’s about our worst world. I think we eat the chocolate and put on the pageants because we don’t want to face the worst. [...] 

Advent is an invitation to plunge into the deep, dark waters of our worst world, knowing that when we re-surface for air we will encounter the hopeful, hovering Spirit of God. For when we dive into the depths of our worst world, we reach a critical point at which our chocolate and pageants no longer satiate our longing for hope – and we are liberated by this realization. Indeed, the light of true hope is found in the midst of darkness. [...]

Advent/Darkness

Advent/Ferguson

Advent/Hunger 

Advent/Apathy 

Advent/Fatherlessness 

Advent/Oppression of Indigenous Peoples 

Advent/ISIS 

Advent/Political polarization 

Advent/Human trafficking 

Advent/Mental illness stigma 

Advent/Ebola treatment inequality 

Advent/Immigration injustice 

Advent/Rioting 

Advent/Privilege 

Advent/School-to-Prison Pipeline 

Advent/West Bank 

Advent/Spiritual Abuse 

Advent/Economic inequality 

Advent/Myanmar 

Advent/Segregated churches 

Advent/Poverty 

Advent/Police brutality 

Advent/Global oppression of women and girls 

Advent/Marginalization 

Advent/Darkness

Come, Lord Jesus. Come.

http://www.christenacleveland.com/2014/11/adventdarkness/

Advent reading

Advent is one of my favorite times of the year. Not just because looking forward to Christmas is almost as fun as Christmas itself, but because there's something powerful in the waiting.

This year, as consumer culture urges me to want, to spend, and to be frantic, I find the desire to turn inward more compelling. The turning-inward culture of Christian Advent embraces quietness, reflection, inner peace, and true joy -- and these are the things I actually need.

I've discovered that the stories I participate in shape my thinking, my dearly held beliefs, and my everyday choices. Stories from friends and family, of course, but also stories from elsewhere in the world, and even imagined stories. I think that's why books have held such a central role in my life ever since I learned to read: stories add to my landscape in a profound way, no matter where they come from or whether or not they are "true." With that knowledge, I've chosen the following books to guide me through Advent, as I seek greater meaning than what consumer culture offers. Since I can choose to some extent which voices are in my head, this seems like a good time to choose with intention.

1. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
This beautiful story is important to me any time of the year, and I'm not sure if I've ever read it at Christmas, but it seems to fit in perfectly. The imagery of the coming of Jesus in a formerly bleak, joyless world is striking, and who can forget the moment when Christmas comes for the first time? Or the moment when the sleigh slows because the snow is melting? Or the conversation between Aslan and the White Witch about the Deep Magic, laid out since the beginning of time, more powerful than life itself...

2. Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne
A focus on the social and political backdrop during Jesus's life while exploring Jesus's teachings about a radical lifestyle. I need more of this.

3. What's in the Blood and I Saw God Dancing by Cheryl Denise
I don't spend a lot of time reading poetry, but when I do, I love it for its ability to make me feel calm, refreshed, and amazed all at the same time. These books are lovely - rooted in the Mennonite tradition, strong themes involving nature and the beauty of humanity, and weaving everything together with a touch of humor.

4. The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
This author spends a year trying to discover what actually makes her happy and exploring why so many people go through life without really being happy. I think Advent is a time to let go of certain expectations in order to seek out a life of joy.

5. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
One of my all-time favorite books, this story reminds me that life is magical. Its simple, limitless, childlike delight in experiencing the world should be at the heart of the Christmas season.

So what are you reading? And how is it shaping your life?

vantage point

Today, in my second-to-last week of summer, I'm trying to soak in this feeling of peace. Soon life will be much fuller, and I'm not sure if I'll be ready for it. Though I have not often managed throughout the summer to silence the call for productivity and busyness (ever present in my mind), I have still taken plenty of time for complete leisure, relaxation, even laziness. Now I try not to think of the tasks I have not crossed off the never-ending to-do list, but instead I think of the ways I have indulged in a slower pace of life. Looking back on the summer, it seems like I did indeed have that elusive slower-paced life -- even if it didn't always feel that way -- and I am thankful.
I'm also trying to be content in the moment (so hard for me to do), knowing that in a few months I'll be longing for days like today, where I had plenty of time for many of my favorite things. This feeling of end-of-summer contentment, anticipating a change, could be summed up in a moment from this afternoon: when I stood in the open doorway of our new apartment, looking out, barefoot, eating a fresh nectarine with juice dripping from my fingers. Looking forward, feeling the sun and the breeze and the sweet air, tasting the goodness of life. This is the summertime way.

the truth in our path

"Occasionally he stumbled over the truth, but he always picked himself up and hurried on as if nothing had happened."
~Winston Churchill

This quote has been bumping around in my thoughts over the last week or two, and it seems to be an awfully accurate description of most mainstream American society.

So tell me - what moments of truth are you taking care to notice?

Two things that are worth spending 8 minutes on...

The two most recent vlogbrothers videos. Though very different, both are highly entertaining, thought provoking, and insightful. Have fun!