Well, I'm doing a little bit better than earlier. I can only hope that others are as well. I just want to thank you, one and all who read my blog(s). It's really amazing. Thank you so much.
So my life... I've begun to attempt to start a student-led ministry called Catalyst, based on the Catalyst Coalition, which started up in Blaine, Minnesota ( http://www.catalystcoalition.org/ ). It's a pretty sweet idea, and God's given me some confirmation about it. I told myself this was the year I'd be different. So that's my beginning.
But to be honest, I'm still not sure if I'm being "different" quite yet. I'm still procrastinating. I'm still not kind all the time. I'm still holding others at my high school at arm's length to some extent. I'm still... I don't know. I really just need to put this in God's hands. I feel simultaneously too comfortable and complacent as well as itching for a great and irreversible change to my life. In a positive way, of course.
Strange and random observation: I love being in resturaunts and cafes where people right next to me are on first or second dates and such, and are just beginning to know each other. It's oddly uplifting to me. As well as a little creepy, but I'm a professional eavesdropper... okay, not PROFESSIONAL, however... it's fun. To hear interesting people tell each other interesting things. I do hope that you don't all consider me a creepy person that you would never want at the next table in a cafe... but... um... yeah. And then have me write about you in my blog, as I sit a couple of tables away on my laptop. Dear. I must look very suspicious.
Well, since I'm going all "stream-of-conciousness" on you guys, I suppose I'll continue with my thoughts... procrastination is somewhat consuming my life, and I realize that it's wrong. As well as pride. I know it's a human thing, to want affirmation, to want to be praised, but I often wish for praise that does not belong to me--it belongs to my great Creator. My youth group is doing a series on "being a poser". And while I can't relate entirely to the examples given (trying to fit into a particular group at school, which my sociology book calls "anticipatory socialization", but this term is used more accurately in the context of adapting to certain behaviors in order to fit into a work group), I know where I pose. Sometimes I think I pose as a good person. I pose as a Christian girl who knows what on earth she's doing. And that's really not true, not true in the slightest. This is likely the explanation for why I felt so scared and thrown off when I felt identified as a leader back when people identified me as a leader.
And now I'm stepping up to the role, but I'm taking on pride and it's ugly and it's wrong. It's so hard to truly humble, easy to be insecure. So hard to be confident, but not proud. So much of me still needs to be changed.
In other "news" (not news, it's just my silly little life, which is as short as a vapor of wind... good ol' Ecclesiastes), I've been writing. Almost consistently. I've written two chapters of my story Sunlight. I'm up to five chapters. The other night was a very difficult night, and I intentionally made it worse for myself by watching the TAC Victoria accident videos (Australian traffic program... they are... effective... to say the least; check them out on YouTube if you are interested and send them to your SADD instructors and your driver's ed teachers if they don't have enough good material) and then LISTENING to them to my most serious playlist simultaneously. I cried several times. And in the car from home to youth group yesterday, I felt the narration of Damir within me.
If there's anything that I feel terribly comfortable and uncomfortable (in a good way) about, it is the obsession of a story. Story obsession is the only permissible obsession for me, as it gets me writing. It keeps me going. It's that drive I've been missing for so long, and it feels... it feels SO GOOD. I don't care how depressing my story chapters are, to be honest. One of my favorite quotes is by Mat Kearney, though in context is about the personal and genre-bending nature of his music, goes as follows:
"[When I set out to write,] I want to write something that will rip your heart out [and connect with you]."
I don't want to make people upset, but I want to connect with them. I want them to see something in my writing that they can take from it, something they can think about, some passage will not leave their mind, something, just... something. Something good. Some sort of hope, or some sort of emotion, some sort of thanks. I question whether the hopelessness of a story is truly a positive thing. When I read Living Dead Girl by Elizabeth Scott a while ago, I could not get the story out of my mind, all its futility, the unbelievable horror and grief within it. I could not understand why I read it. It was so effective, and I suppose the realism is its own value. While I recognize that my current story, Sunlight, is entirely different in content, it is still incredibly sad and hard to write.
But I don't permit myself any dishonesty. Whether or not it's happy. Gosh, coming from me... that's quite... abnormal. Wanting a bright spot in a sad story. Hope is... hope is something else. I don't think I can just intentionally through in a big glob of hope in a story like this. It's not entirely realistic. Then again, the kind of circumstances which occur may not be exactly realistic either, but... I'm getting there. Let me know if you have any suggestions.
Well, since I guess I'm going to keep rambling, in reference to that awkward passage about me eavesdropping, it feels pretty cool to be on a laptop in a coffeehouse. Or whatever this is. It's my teensy town, the place is CALLED "Better Brew Coffeehouse" but I've probably only ever been in one other coffeehouse (near Breckenridge, Colorado, and incredibly hipstertastic and full of organic goodness. Good thing I wasn't obsessed with hipsterdom back then.), so I don't really have much to compare it with. CONTRAST, yes, but not compare.
So the hipster place back in Colorado was awesome. And they had delicious mochas. Of course, Better Brew has delicious mochas too. And it is pretty nice--it has those cool eco-friendly cups that can be composted because they're actually made of corn. XD And it has free-trade, locally made coffee and teas. Supposedly there are gluten-free options around here, but I guess you'd have to ask about them. There's a raw sugar dispenser.
The only odd thing about it are the mismatched tables and the couch and chair in the corner, and the random pictures up, and the unfinished painting on the wall. But it's cute. And homey. I think it's really the demographics that get me--in the morning, the tiny parking lot is all filled up with trucks, and a whole bunch of 60+ farmer dudes come in and have some funtiemz conversations. And then more older people (women, men, everyone) come in. And only a few businesslike people pop in and grab a coffee, then leave. A couple of averagely aged people (40's or so) sit down, usually women. Some have laptops. I and the two dudes from my Catalyst group were the only adolescents in the entire place. Now I'm the only adolescent, but a 20's or so woman now sits at the next table on her laptop, presumably studying. Or procrastinating like me.
When I went into the Colorado hipstercoffeeplace, there weren't really any people in there. But it could've just been the time of the morning. It was a small town like mine, but you really can't compare Pine Island to a small town in the mountains in Colorado... they had BLUEGRASS FESTIVALS. With people selling fancing stone-made trinkets from all over the place, many of them based in Native American tradition, as well as just some others around. They actually HAD places to... you know, get fancy pretty stones that were beeeautiful. Pine Island just has corn fields. And a cheese factory. I mean... that's pretty much nothing compared to mountain-town with the naturey, fit people of that town. I don't exactly remember the name of it, but... gosh. I kind of wish I was there now. I bet it's beautiful this time of year. *sigh*
Anyway, my town's pretty nice too. Just not as environmentally friendly and hipster/hippie-stereotypical as that one. You can just drive through my town, though. You kind of have to go up mountains to get to the one in Colorado. That was a good time in my life, the Colorado trip.
I guess I'd better get done with this... I do hope you enjoyed/got something out of reading this. Feel free to comment. Or not. That's fine too. I'm sorry for being... obnoxious.
Jesus and I love you all. :) Have a nice day!
So my life... I've begun to attempt to start a student-led ministry called Catalyst, based on the Catalyst Coalition, which started up in Blaine, Minnesota ( http://www.catalystcoalition.org/ ). It's a pretty sweet idea, and God's given me some confirmation about it. I told myself this was the year I'd be different. So that's my beginning.
But to be honest, I'm still not sure if I'm being "different" quite yet. I'm still procrastinating. I'm still not kind all the time. I'm still holding others at my high school at arm's length to some extent. I'm still... I don't know. I really just need to put this in God's hands. I feel simultaneously too comfortable and complacent as well as itching for a great and irreversible change to my life. In a positive way, of course.
Strange and random observation: I love being in resturaunts and cafes where people right next to me are on first or second dates and such, and are just beginning to know each other. It's oddly uplifting to me. As well as a little creepy, but I'm a professional eavesdropper... okay, not PROFESSIONAL, however... it's fun. To hear interesting people tell each other interesting things. I do hope that you don't all consider me a creepy person that you would never want at the next table in a cafe... but... um... yeah. And then have me write about you in my blog, as I sit a couple of tables away on my laptop. Dear. I must look very suspicious.
Well, since I'm going all "stream-of-conciousness" on you guys, I suppose I'll continue with my thoughts... procrastination is somewhat consuming my life, and I realize that it's wrong. As well as pride. I know it's a human thing, to want affirmation, to want to be praised, but I often wish for praise that does not belong to me--it belongs to my great Creator. My youth group is doing a series on "being a poser". And while I can't relate entirely to the examples given (trying to fit into a particular group at school, which my sociology book calls "anticipatory socialization", but this term is used more accurately in the context of adapting to certain behaviors in order to fit into a work group), I know where I pose. Sometimes I think I pose as a good person. I pose as a Christian girl who knows what on earth she's doing. And that's really not true, not true in the slightest. This is likely the explanation for why I felt so scared and thrown off when I felt identified as a leader back when people identified me as a leader.
And now I'm stepping up to the role, but I'm taking on pride and it's ugly and it's wrong. It's so hard to truly humble, easy to be insecure. So hard to be confident, but not proud. So much of me still needs to be changed.
In other "news" (not news, it's just my silly little life, which is as short as a vapor of wind... good ol' Ecclesiastes), I've been writing. Almost consistently. I've written two chapters of my story Sunlight. I'm up to five chapters. The other night was a very difficult night, and I intentionally made it worse for myself by watching the TAC Victoria accident videos (Australian traffic program... they are... effective... to say the least; check them out on YouTube if you are interested and send them to your SADD instructors and your driver's ed teachers if they don't have enough good material) and then LISTENING to them to my most serious playlist simultaneously. I cried several times. And in the car from home to youth group yesterday, I felt the narration of Damir within me.
If there's anything that I feel terribly comfortable and uncomfortable (in a good way) about, it is the obsession of a story. Story obsession is the only permissible obsession for me, as it gets me writing. It keeps me going. It's that drive I've been missing for so long, and it feels... it feels SO GOOD. I don't care how depressing my story chapters are, to be honest. One of my favorite quotes is by Mat Kearney, though in context is about the personal and genre-bending nature of his music, goes as follows:
"[When I set out to write,] I want to write something that will rip your heart out [and connect with you]."
I don't want to make people upset, but I want to connect with them. I want them to see something in my writing that they can take from it, something they can think about, some passage will not leave their mind, something, just... something. Something good. Some sort of hope, or some sort of emotion, some sort of thanks. I question whether the hopelessness of a story is truly a positive thing. When I read Living Dead Girl by Elizabeth Scott a while ago, I could not get the story out of my mind, all its futility, the unbelievable horror and grief within it. I could not understand why I read it. It was so effective, and I suppose the realism is its own value. While I recognize that my current story, Sunlight, is entirely different in content, it is still incredibly sad and hard to write.
But I don't permit myself any dishonesty. Whether or not it's happy. Gosh, coming from me... that's quite... abnormal. Wanting a bright spot in a sad story. Hope is... hope is something else. I don't think I can just intentionally through in a big glob of hope in a story like this. It's not entirely realistic. Then again, the kind of circumstances which occur may not be exactly realistic either, but... I'm getting there. Let me know if you have any suggestions.
Well, since I guess I'm going to keep rambling, in reference to that awkward passage about me eavesdropping, it feels pretty cool to be on a laptop in a coffeehouse. Or whatever this is. It's my teensy town, the place is CALLED "Better Brew Coffeehouse" but I've probably only ever been in one other coffeehouse (near Breckenridge, Colorado, and incredibly hipstertastic and full of organic goodness. Good thing I wasn't obsessed with hipsterdom back then.), so I don't really have much to compare it with. CONTRAST, yes, but not compare.
So the hipster place back in Colorado was awesome. And they had delicious mochas. Of course, Better Brew has delicious mochas too. And it is pretty nice--it has those cool eco-friendly cups that can be composted because they're actually made of corn. XD And it has free-trade, locally made coffee and teas. Supposedly there are gluten-free options around here, but I guess you'd have to ask about them. There's a raw sugar dispenser.
The only odd thing about it are the mismatched tables and the couch and chair in the corner, and the random pictures up, and the unfinished painting on the wall. But it's cute. And homey. I think it's really the demographics that get me--in the morning, the tiny parking lot is all filled up with trucks, and a whole bunch of 60+ farmer dudes come in and have some funtiemz conversations. And then more older people (women, men, everyone) come in. And only a few businesslike people pop in and grab a coffee, then leave. A couple of averagely aged people (40's or so) sit down, usually women. Some have laptops. I and the two dudes from my Catalyst group were the only adolescents in the entire place. Now I'm the only adolescent, but a 20's or so woman now sits at the next table on her laptop, presumably studying. Or procrastinating like me.
When I went into the Colorado hipstercoffeeplace, there weren't really any people in there. But it could've just been the time of the morning. It was a small town like mine, but you really can't compare Pine Island to a small town in the mountains in Colorado... they had BLUEGRASS FESTIVALS. With people selling fancing stone-made trinkets from all over the place, many of them based in Native American tradition, as well as just some others around. They actually HAD places to... you know, get fancy pretty stones that were beeeautiful. Pine Island just has corn fields. And a cheese factory. I mean... that's pretty much nothing compared to mountain-town with the naturey, fit people of that town. I don't exactly remember the name of it, but... gosh. I kind of wish I was there now. I bet it's beautiful this time of year. *sigh*
Anyway, my town's pretty nice too. Just not as environmentally friendly and hipster/hippie-stereotypical as that one. You can just drive through my town, though. You kind of have to go up mountains to get to the one in Colorado. That was a good time in my life, the Colorado trip.
I guess I'd better get done with this... I do hope you enjoyed/got something out of reading this. Feel free to comment. Or not. That's fine too. I'm sorry for being... obnoxious.
Jesus and I love you all. :) Have a nice day!
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