Hope is like a path on the mountainside.
At first there is no path.
But then there are people passing that way,
And then there is a path.’
-Lu Xun-
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
The purge...
I'm back in Canada for a visit, and currently at my folk's place. One thing that I've needed to get done for ages is to rid my parent's basement of the piles of Keren-related memorabilia that have been littering it for, well, decades. I knew it was time when I walked into my old room and realized that it looked as though I had died and someone had erected a shrine in my honour. It was me, everywhere! On the walls, in boxes in the closet, choking up the bookshelf. It was way too much.
On the whole, it's been rather refreshing to throw away bags of old odds and ends and officially giving up on projects I'll never complete (i.e. scrapbooks- I HATE scrapbooking). It's also been somewhat entertaining unearthing things like old notes from my friends in high school (oh, the drama!) and a stack of handmade cards from my first class as a student teacher (my favourite being the one written by an anonymous 9 yr old that reads, "Miss Massey is made of chocolate and rainbows!").
On the other hand, I've found some parts of the process a bit sad. I spent six years in undergraduate education and I worked myself to the bone during that time. I worked while I studied (regularly working all night and then attending lectures the whole of the next day- perhaps not one of my most prudent decisions) and jumped into a ream of time consuming extracurriculars. At the end of those six years I had a handful of credentials, ridiculously high grades, no debt and not a shred of energy left for anything. I was even tired of people. Sometimes I think I'm still suffering from a bit of undergraduate fatigue.
Strangely enough, throwing out stacks of old lecture notes and workbooks from that period in my life was surprisingly hard. I knew I'd never use them again, but somehow having a row of cardboard boxes full of uni related memorabilia was validating. I had evidence that I did something and that it was worth all that it cost to do it. I've been putting off getting rid of this stuff for years, but this time I finally accepted that never would I sit my grandchildren down and read them one of my truly pedantic exegeses of words from the original Greek. So, I threw it all away with the exception of that stack of cards and an essay I wrote ages ago about feminism which I figured would be good for a laugh.
There is a line from the old TV show The Wonder Years that says, "Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go." I've been thinking about that quote both whilst sorting through boxes and whilst bringing the UK chapter of my life to an end. It is always a struggle to hold on to the things from the past that you should keep. It's always a struggle to let go of the things from the past that have no business in your future. It is never easy. I've found it hard to leave many places in the last few years, but I found it especially difficult to leave my home and community and life in London.
Change is hard, at least it's hard for me, but I am learning that all that is really changing is the props and the scenery (which I can let go) but that the real, true, important things remain the same (like God, and relationships- those are the things that I'll keep).
Let me conclude with a classic photo of me at my 6th grade science fair which I came across in my rummaging. I was a nerd from the womb, it would appear. Please note my yawn-inspiring project on "Tides". My three most pressing questions about this photo are 1) did I need glasses that thick, 2)why do I look so interested in the topic, and 3) why do those other girls look so interested? Maybe I paid them off to pose for the photo. By the by, I kept that project for YEARS before it got thrown away.
On the whole, it's been rather refreshing to throw away bags of old odds and ends and officially giving up on projects I'll never complete (i.e. scrapbooks- I HATE scrapbooking). It's also been somewhat entertaining unearthing things like old notes from my friends in high school (oh, the drama!) and a stack of handmade cards from my first class as a student teacher (my favourite being the one written by an anonymous 9 yr old that reads, "Miss Massey is made of chocolate and rainbows!").
On the other hand, I've found some parts of the process a bit sad. I spent six years in undergraduate education and I worked myself to the bone during that time. I worked while I studied (regularly working all night and then attending lectures the whole of the next day- perhaps not one of my most prudent decisions) and jumped into a ream of time consuming extracurriculars. At the end of those six years I had a handful of credentials, ridiculously high grades, no debt and not a shred of energy left for anything. I was even tired of people. Sometimes I think I'm still suffering from a bit of undergraduate fatigue.
Strangely enough, throwing out stacks of old lecture notes and workbooks from that period in my life was surprisingly hard. I knew I'd never use them again, but somehow having a row of cardboard boxes full of uni related memorabilia was validating. I had evidence that I did something and that it was worth all that it cost to do it. I've been putting off getting rid of this stuff for years, but this time I finally accepted that never would I sit my grandchildren down and read them one of my truly pedantic exegeses of words from the original Greek. So, I threw it all away with the exception of that stack of cards and an essay I wrote ages ago about feminism which I figured would be good for a laugh.
There is a line from the old TV show The Wonder Years that says, "Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go." I've been thinking about that quote both whilst sorting through boxes and whilst bringing the UK chapter of my life to an end. It is always a struggle to hold on to the things from the past that you should keep. It's always a struggle to let go of the things from the past that have no business in your future. It is never easy. I've found it hard to leave many places in the last few years, but I found it especially difficult to leave my home and community and life in London.
Change is hard, at least it's hard for me, but I am learning that all that is really changing is the props and the scenery (which I can let go) but that the real, true, important things remain the same (like God, and relationships- those are the things that I'll keep).
Let me conclude with a classic photo of me at my 6th grade science fair which I came across in my rummaging. I was a nerd from the womb, it would appear. Please note my yawn-inspiring project on "Tides". My three most pressing questions about this photo are 1) did I need glasses that thick, 2)why do I look so interested in the topic, and 3) why do those other girls look so interested? Maybe I paid them off to pose for the photo. By the by, I kept that project for YEARS before it got thrown away.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Out for a curry...
Logan, I keep forgetting to tell you that Flat Stanley and I went out for lunch last month just before he posted himself back to you. We went to a place called Camden. There is a big market there and if your mom ever comes to visit me I will take her there- she would love it!
Glad to hear that Stanley made it back to Three Hills safe and sound! Hope you are having lots of fun. Give my love to your sister and brother. I miss you guys!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Gifts...
This could easily be a Mary Oliver tribute blog. I love her poetry.
I've been thinking about this particular poem lately, and not because I'm unhappy or because anything is wrong. There is just something about it that I think is very beautiful and true and deeply comforting.
Hope it encourages someone out there today.
The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
-Mary Oliver
Friday, September 30, 2011
Old material...
Cousin Laura,
I was looking through some photos from my brother's wedding and this one reminded me of something...something from the past...
(Victoria, Canada, 2011)
Which was, of course, this photo. Are they not strangely similar? Why are our facial expressions exactly the same? And what possessed us to wear scarves on our heads?
(Mucombeze, Mozambique, 2010)
Sadly, this is not the first time that something like this has occurred: http://notlikejacob.blogspot.com/2010/03/dear-laura.html
I think we're in a rut.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Egads...
I haven't blogged in ages. Please accept this link to my recent Facebook photo album as a proxy for the 15 or so blog posts I should have written in the last little while:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150834402225215.746907.804750214&l=f8b553aba2&type=1
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The project...
Since getting back from my brother's wedding my focus has been on getting my dissertation finished as the due date draws nigh...very, very nigh.
I told my tutor that I would get my first draft to him by today, August 10th. In retrospect, that was a bit ambitious.
Anyways, after a rather sleepless night, a brief nap at dawn and then a few more hours of frantic edits, my first draft is submitted!
I stumbled out of my room at about 1:30pm exultant and full of joy! According to my housemates I also bore a strange resemblance to a mad scientist.
And now I guess I'd better clean up the post thesis-writing mess...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
