Grass.

Grass is compelling. It springs up in cities and countrysides. It clutters the space between sidewalk slats. It's a bit like wild, sustainable, outdoor carpet.

I have this body spray from the GAP called "Grass." I wanted it because of its calm green color and also because anything grass-related lifts my spirits. But before today, I didn't realize that grass really does have a remarkable fragrance. GAP did a good job imitating its scent. It is tart and fresh and sweet and joyful. Beneath our trudging feet, it grows in understated complexity. It is beautiful. A forest that shelters tiny insect cities.

Two Thursdays ago, yoga and discussion time made me painfully aware that for a long, stressful period I had chosen to remain unaware of small blessings. That day I finally smelled the pink flowering trees in the Rogers parking lot I had before then only glanced at in passing. Since then, I wonder at the moon, revel in the first blue sky we've seen in weeks, and today I smelled grass.

It's been worth it.

Time for a Joke.

A man is walking in a graveyard when he hears the Third Symphony played backward. When it's over, the Second Symphony starts playing, also backward, and then the First. "What's going on?" he asks the cemetery worker. "It's Beethoven," says the worker. "He's decomposing."

“The work of Jesus was not a new set of ideals or principles for reforming or even revolutionizing society, but the establishment of a new community, a people that embodied forgiveness, sharing and self-sacrificing love in its rituals and discipline. In that sense, the visible church is not to be the bearer of Christ’s message, but to be the message.” - Stanley Hauerwas

Change is active.

I'm not exactly sure what this post will turn into because there are a lot of thoughts in my head that may or may not form coherent phrases.

It seems to me that there are two types of people: those who experience joy because they open themselves up to it and those who catch only glimpses of happiness because they have already concluded that there life doesn't measure up, that nothing is good enough. But really, even those people who see reasons for joy must have times where they'd rather sit life out for awhile. So really, there is one type of person on this earth. We're all discontented with what we have and disenchanted with experiences, people, and even our dreams. For me, this year has been a rude awakening. I was happy and care free so long as I managed to ignore the depth of physical and emotional suffering people experience daily. People are literally trudging along. I feel like so many people are on the edge of suicidal desperation. The thing that keeps them alive is a healthy fear of death.

So what we end up with is lots of people afraid to live and afraid to die. The fear becomes so debilitating that they choose apathy over any other feeling. Easier to dull the pain than learn how to feel more effectively.

We're all psychotic. How did we get this way? Why have we determined that if we're not happy with ourselves, with our lives, we must sit in self pity, shaking our fists at the world's cruelty, instead of doing something?

I am tired of feeling sorry for myself. I am tired of everyone else feeling sorry for themselves. It's hard to grow up, but who convinced us that growing up means sacrificing ourselves to the gods of apathy, bitterness, monotonous living, giving up? I want to travel, but my parents won't help fund the trip. I want to help people. I want to give to charity. I want to have a strong, Christian community again. I want to be happy with my skin, and in my skin. These things aren't inevitable failures. They fuel the goals that make my life purposeful.

I found FSU exchange programs that cost much less than study abroad. If I work hard, I can pay for it myself. I'm becoming friends with lonely elders at Westminster Oaks; so what if I feel ineffective. If I can get over myself I will realize that what I do is enriching to young and old alike whether or not my generation cherishes the elderly. I'm working this summer. I can put money aside for charitable giving. I can focus myself and get involved in a church and determine to work at building relationships. I can take care of myself as well as I know how and, in the meantime, see the joys in my life that matter far more than my appearance.

I do the things I do not wish to do. I do not do the things I wish to do. But God (please restore me to you God), has provided a purpose, a hope, a message of selfless love. Its hard, but maybe I'll start to live this life with joy again. We can't hope for change to come. Change is active, which means we actually have to DO something.

I want so badly for people to get up off their couches, to rise out of whatever self-induced funk they're in at the moment, and determine to change their lives by being changed by God and in turn, changing others.

Fashion Blogging?

Today I visited teenvogue.com because even though I'm a grown up now, I still appreciate its fun fashion sense. In the Girl of the Week section, I discovered almost every girl chosen has just started her own fashion blog. I checked out one of them. Each post consisted either of of-the-moment fashion preferences or the girl herself modeling in rather expensive new clothing. For some posts, she had even employed a friend to take model shots of her.

I reacted in two ways to the blog. My first thought was of mild disgust at the narcissism of it all. Sure, the girl has a gift for styling outfits. But the amount of time consumed with perfecting her image, buying clothing, and taking pictures of herself seems excessive.

On the other hand, the idea of starting a fashion blog appeals to my own interest in fashion and modeling. I wondered if I should utilize its concepts to some degree. For instance, my friends and I could continue our fashion shoots and I could post them on a blog! Or I could bring pieces I like together, although doing publicly what I've been doing on powerpoints for years seems scary because I don't want to be perceived as superficial.

And now I delve into our need to create an image for ourselves. For fashion bloggers, it's style. And although I'm interested in fashion, I've tried to create an image of verbal creativity and insight or of my intelligence or nonconformity.

None of it really matters in the end. I was talking to Daniel and Mary about this yesterday. By defining ourselves by a "thing," something by which we attain relevance to ourselves or others, we set ourselves up for failure and inadequacy. Because when we inevitably fail, we lose our identity. But it's just a created identity, it isn't who we are. People are people, defined by too many things to count. If we could appreciate that, maybe our image would improve without our own exhaustive, superficial aid. Its easier said than done.

I'm still considering starting a fashion blog.

An update (finally)

I finally eeked out a few more poems; they just haven't come as easily this semester. However, I've realized that I tend to think poetically or imagine situations just for their poetic value. That's made me feel a bit better about my lack of artistic creation. I wrote these a couple weeks ago. Do enjoy them:

Long Grass

The cedar tree forest
ants forage within
is green with Spring's
new blossom

Bruising its bark and boughs
under giant's limbs
I sit on it
and eat my lunch

The long grass grew (and grows)
under monsoon and sun alike
and no one comes
to cut it down.

The Cemetary Wedding

After a proposal by that
bench, under the tree
in the Pearson plot, I will
make a dress of grass
and fallen leaves,
Litter the aisle with
borrowed silk flowers and
march; the witch girl Eliza and
confederate soldiers
bow as my fresh,
watering gaze meets theirs,
where they lie at rest, dirt mattresses
and grassy quilts.
When I meet the groom, the
buzz of silence and whispers
memories, unfulfillments
Flutters, lifts my veil
New life intermingled
with old, and
the cycle has circled
marking its bounds
in vines and wrought iron.

Can humans handle globalization?

I've been very stressed out this semester. I'm sure there are a variety of causes for this, but I've been thinking lately about global awareness as it pertains to consumerism and social justice issues. I'm taking a Religious Ethics of Food class so we're often discussing slave labor, the destruction of the Everglades due to the sugar industry, subsidies, starvation in other parts of the world, etc. This paired with the stress on activism on a college campus in school politics, state education budget cuts, feeding the hungry, donating to organizations, cleaning up parks, buying organic and locally grown produce, spending wisely, and hundreds of other causes is a lot to deal with and a lot to live up to. I don't know if everyone approaches these issues the same way I do, but I have become completely overwhelmed, wanting to be a conscious consumer, wanting to buy Tom's shoes because they're trendy and for a good cause, wanting to understand how my choices hurt or help people who are making the products I buy in destitute countries. But I CAN'T DO IT ALL.

Global consciousness and I don't mix well. And I don't think they have to or even necessarily should go together. Individuals can only stretch themselves so far. I can only befriend and truly love so many people. Sure, I can demonstrate compassion in a sense for every cause and everyone. But I have to focus. And we might all be a little more effective if we could find our passion or passions, at most a handful of them, and work to make these things better. I've always felt the need to be good at everything, to succeed at everything I do, to impress everyone with my ability to juggle a million things with ease. But I am slowly becoming convinced that the point of the Church as a community is to build trust and love and accountability in groups we can manage, not in megachurches. And this applies to general socialization as well. We're useless if we're overwhelmed. And we're not really helping very much if what we're doing leaves us deeply unsatisfied.

I went to an Ash wednesday service this past week and was particularly struck by one phrase the pastor said: "If you have faith in Christ and you've been baptized, that's it. You're forgiven." I needed that, "that's it" - I'm free, plain and simple. Knowing that I won't be considered less by God if I don't donate to every charity, shop at New Leaf, feed every starving child is so important. I will do what I do because that's where my heart is, because those things provide clarity and joy and work with my talents and desires and goals and convictions. I am forgiven, I am loved, I am doing fine. That's it.