21 Things .13

Living in the Moment

As an assistant at a local museum I'm expected to execute a myriad of tasks whether that be assisting with administration, setting up for events, researching, helping with exhibits, answering visitors questions, or organizing. Yesterday I painted an old, worn easel a fresh coat of black. As I prepared the brushes and the area outside for my project in the heat of midday, my mind was free to wander, but even so I found myself focused comfortably on the task at hand. I was taking in the feel of the paint, the thickness of the brush, and even the ants scurrying at my feet, attracted by the sticky sweetness. I realized how little I usually attend to these details. Usually my thoughts are rushing ahead, but in that moment I was absolutely content to live in the moment. 
My black easel cannot compare to God's creation of the world but I felt so accomplished with my project and I knew this simple joy came from doing what He intended me to do: work and create. I've learned that work is not a curse. Adam and Eve were given the task of tending the garden before sin entered the world. Still, only in heaven will we be equipped to work at our fullest potential. 
In the meantime we sweat, put in the hours necessary to pay the bills, and find joy in the menial. Although I can't say I know what its like to do a "hard day's work" of say, farm work,  I couldn't help but reflect on the many Proverbs that concern work and planning as I painted. Here are a few of them:

"He who gathers in summer is a prudent son..." 10:5

"Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows worthless pursuits will have plenty of poverty." 28:19

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand" 19:21

21 Things .12

Refreshed

I've just returned from soaking up the sun on the West Coast! 
Ok, I didn't just soak it up, I burned, but it was worth it!

Friday afternoon found my family on Long Beach, the welcoming waves and iconic sands stretching into the haze of mist. At first I refused to touch the icy water, but then my feet carried me into the waves with the others. So then I said I'd only wade, but the next thing I knew I'd dunked and was shivering...and happy. I couldn't resist the ocean!

Saturday - another cloudless day - found us at Little Beach (Little, Long, Big... couldn't they have more creative beach names?), struggling into our wet suits and balancing on paddle boards as we set out to explore the surrounding coast.  
There is something so thrilling about being so close to the water; and its a different kind of "close" than canoeing or kayaking. Standing, I sensed every ebb of the waves under my feet and had freedom to move about, kneel, or lie down and look over the edge at my leisure. The windswept trees on shore and the distant, shimmering horizon of blue got me into what I call the Moana spirit and I started singing:"but I come back to the water no matter how hard I try..." "see the light where the sky meets the sea, it calls me..."
The horizon truly was calling. At one point everyone else had returned close to shore and despite the fact that I knew I was wandering a bit too far out alone, I couldn't stop paddling. The sky and the mysterious depths beneath me both terrified and excited me (these two emotions seem to be a theme with my lately).
Nothing unexpected happened and after my dad had come out the join me I eventually paddled back, but I couldn't help glancing over my shoulder every now and then to capture the wild scene in my memory. 

The ocean experiences I had this weekend seem a fitting metaphor for how I feel about life right now: out between the familiar shore and the unknown horizon, fearful at times and uncertain whether to paddle forward or back, but paddling nonetheless. 
This constant internal conflict is tiring but I'm taking it one day at a time. I thank God for weekends of refreshment and for giving me moments such as these to help me understand myself better. 

21 Things .11

Feeling the Rhythm

This summer I've invested in a punch card for Zumba classes at my local rec centre and am enjoying every minute of it! 
Zumba is a rather new phenomena in the world of aerobics, inspired by Latin American dances like salsa, flamenco and tango, along with a mix of hip hop and 1920's Charleston.  Unlike other forms of exercise that feel like exercise, dancing allows me to sink into the rhythm and add my own flair, while enjoying the company of others in an energetic atmosphere. Despite often being the youngest, I find it encouraging that people of all ages are learning (or keeping up their) dancing skills.

We live in such a reserved and individualistic culture and though not everyone is invigorated by the freedom of dancing as I am (frustration, indifference, or embarrassment might be words that are coming to mind), I think we can learn so much from countries in which dance plays an integral role in relating to one other. Whether dancing solo, in couples, or groups, dance can break barriers, build confidence, and offer refreshment.

I began dancing at a young age, taking ballet classes and having spontaneous dance parties in the living room, and in the past few years I've begun swing and ballroom dancing. My hope to do more of this in the future, but in the meantime I'll dance Zumba to my heart's content! Wherever or whatever I do, I will always be dancing!

21 Things .10

Car rides in the back seat with my sister were always fun! We'd pop in an Adventures in Odysseys CD and listen expectantly while gazing out the windows at the passing scenery. In fact, the length of trips were often counted not by hours but by how many Odysseys we could finish!
Then there were the times we'd bring along a notebook and some dice and co-write little stories. The dice dictated how many words we were allowed to write down on our turn. Jumping back and forth like this (one of us writing maybe two words, the other six) and our imaginations going in different directions made us create very goofy tales. Later we'd even co-colour an illustration to glue beside the story! 
I recently stumbled upon the very notebook. I laughed as I read it and thought I'd share our first work!
Aside from a few corrections I've kept the spelling as it was :)

The Shy Unicorn

Once upon a time there was a unicorn. She was the most magical animal in Rosebush Forest. She was always shy of animals. Every time a forest animal would come by she would hide in her tree house, because she thought they would laugh at her funny hair that stood strait up in the air. One day while eating jujube berries, a raccoon saw her and she din't even look up. The raccoon ran off to tell his friends and parents that he hadn't ever seen an animal as beautiful as this. He was happy the hole day after seeing the unicorn that he could not thingk of anything else and he lost his job at the toy store. The unicorn was very excited to hear that someone thought she din't look funny. Unicorn, for the rest of her life liked the way she looked and she made all kinds of friends. 
The End.

21 Things .09

The Ocean's Song

                "Full many a spot
Of hidden beauty have I chanced to espy
Among the mountains; never one like this
So lonesome, and so perfectly secure;
Not melancholy - no, for it is green
And bright and fertile...
- In rugged arms how softly does it lie.
How tenderly protected!... were this
Man's only dwelling, sole appointed seat,
First, last, and single in the breathing world,
It could not be more quiet: peace is here
Or nowhere."

At least that's what William Wordsworth was moved to write as he wandered near Blea Tarn in England's Lake District. I hope one day to see the place that inspired the pens of so many 19th century poets, but reading the words above with my limited travel experience, I see not the lakes, "vales and hills" of England but the rugged West Coast of Canada. It is my Lake District; my favourite place in the world.
There is a visceral sense of freedom, peace, and unbroken spirit in the salty breeze, the constant crash of the waves, the lush, weathered forests, the creatures hiding in the tide pools, and the dense fogs that lift in the evenings to reveal glorious sunsets.

I can't say I've spent much time there, but it was where I was introduced to the ocean; something I can no longer imagine living without nearby. Its been a year since I've been there; much has happened since, and I'm anticipating a trip there soon with my family!

There is something so comforting in the fact that no matter what I do or where I go, the tide moves methodically in and out on those beloved shores (as they do everywhere). The reason this comforts me is that I know Who has established and given boundaries to those waves (Proverbs 8:27-29). The Lord continues to uphold them and all of the creatures that live there: "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" (Matthew 6:26). 
As I work, and think (and worry) about the future - tuition costs in particular - so close but so far from the peaceful shores of the ocean, I take comfort in such words.  

21 Things .08

My Little Town

Its been two days since I've posted, which isn't helpful when I'm trying to count down to something... Blogging is certainly a priority for me right now but sometimes life happens and that's okay.

Yesterday for work I got the opportunity to put up posters around downtown for a local event. What struck me in my wanderings was how vibrant my little town is with its unique, small businesses. I love to support them but I rarely enter so many in quick succession. Each door opened into a world and culture of its own, filled with friendly faces, many of whom I recognize and some who recognize me. There was the whole foods grocery store where I used to work - the people there are like family and I was received with lots of hugs - then my favourite second-hand bookstore with the welcoming comfort of a dozing cat in the window; the various coffee shops, each with a particular flair, and the brewery, barber shop, clothing stores, restaurants filled with the chatter of breakfasters, and the list could go on.
Having worked in the midst of this hub of activity and then living away for a year has given me new appreciation for this town that I call home. Its exciting that there's still so much to explore!

21 Things .07

Reconciling My Faith with  Art

In my last post I shared briefly about an artist who has inspired me (it was the weekend and I didn't have time to expound), but now I'd like to dig a little deeper into my thoughts on the arts, and its relationship with my faith in particular.

~

For a few months last year I connected weekly with two dear friends of mine to talk about art, choosing a separate era or style each time. It was spontaneous, we were unashamedly nerdy, and it was wonderful! Our conversations would lead us in countless directions and I'm amazed how much I learned from the pieces we admired, laughed over, and questioned.

The arts - not simply paintings but poetry, literature, theatre, dance, and music - have been integral delights in my life and are the things through which God often chooses to speak to me! Yet I'm often frustrated with the lack of artistry and cultural awareness in the Christian community. A confusingly antagonistic yet passive attitude towards the world of arts reigns, which has resulted in the creation of separate "Christian art", a genre of its own that is often naive, cliche, and cringe-worthy.  

This is not to say that I've lost hope. There are Christians who are gifted artists and work right in the thick of things, and as I wrote in a recent essay... "I am incredibly passionate about...the potential for art to express Christ gently yet piercingly." 

The arts offer an opportunity to wrestle with the raw questions of existence and contribute richly to the world discussion, "not using it primarily as a tool to tell the Gospel (sermonize) but to show it (Turner, 21)." 

What if we expressed "God’s rich perspective, which views people with dignity, value, and as creative beings, and explores truth and beauty, without ignoring the realities of life?" What meaningful and hopeful art we'd create!

I've come to the conclusion that being both a Christian and a lover of the arts doesn't entail isolation and neither does it mean embracing or conforming to worldly ideas. Instead it means: "testing and wrestling with worldly ideas and in the process renewing (my) mind (Rom. 12:2). Using Shakespeare's Macbeth as an example, Turner (the author of Imagine: A Vision for Christians in the Arts - A book I'd highly recommend) states how by watching the main character succumb to his lust for power does not mean we condone such actions, instead we are 'measuring' him against a standard of 'nobility and purity' (41). This is why it is a tragedy."

In other words, discernment and reflection are key.

Psalms 137:4 asks: "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" 
Its a question that continues to convict me.

References: 

Turner, Steve. Imagine: A Vision for Christians in the Arts. Illinois: InterVarsity Press. 2001. Print.

21 Things .06

Simple Thoughts on Art

Today's will be short :) 
I recently found a copy of Vincent Van Gogh's Cafe Terrace At Night at Value Village and its been given a new home in my parent's hallway. Antique and thrift stores are treasure-troves of art and my hope is to slowly collect pieces during my infrequent visits there! So far I've got a painting of a Grecian arch and one by Renior (I love the Impressionists!)...

I've especially been admiring Van Gogh's works of late and that's probably due to listening to Vincent, a song by Don MacLean. Its a beautiful tribute to a troubled life and a gifted artist - but I'll let the song speak for itself...

21 Things .05

"I go there to be crowned" - Faber

There's a beautiful forest near my house rich with tapestries of green leaves and carpets of giant ferns. Its a busy thoroughfare; students and people with dogs use it daily and I often go for runs or walks through its trails. Its not a secluded place but to me its always had a magical depth. One stretch of the trail in particular has always stirred my imagination. The trees arch overhead like cathedral domes and give the illusion of continuing on forever even though I know houses and roads are just out of sight. I don't know when it started but I began calling it my "Sherwood Forest" and after one of my walks about a year ago, I decided to write a poem. Here's an excerpt:

"In blissful solitude
      I stood, amongst a group of stately kings
Archaic robes of lichen-moss
     And ferns of oriental green...

Oft’ when in a pensive mood, I pause
     Within this idyll wood
Where Time refrains his mortal grip
     And soothes the harried soul..."

When I came home for the summer I didn't expect to have the same connection with the little forest plot, but I've discovered its become even dearer to me because every time I've walked through since returning I've been met with a gift. 

First it was an eagle swooping low through the trees right over my head, the next time it was two owls calling to each other from either side of the path, and just the other day I witnessed two woodpeckers only a few feet away from me chirping delightedly.

I thank God for these glorious glimpses of his creation in my Sherwood Forest/bird sanctuary!

21 Things .04

The Surprises of General Studies

When people (acquaintances and strangers in particular) ask me what I'm taking at college and I say General Studies, the responses are varied. Either my pronouncement instigates a lively discussion or abruptly ends the conversation as quickly as its begun. "Oh" they say with a hint of uncertainty as if they don't know what to ask next. General Studies are so, well, general.
And I don't blame them. Even I have uncertainty, not because I'm concerned what others will think of my education choice but because I'm not sure what I think... What am I really doing? A year into my studies and I feel further from knowing what degree and career I'd like to pursue.

Yet "General" has some exciting surprises hidden up its sleeve. Take Psychology for example. 
I would never have ventured from Humanities if I'd had the choice, but two courses later, Psychology is one of my favourite subjects.
Even if I never pursue it further, I've learned invaluable things about myself (there's so many "aha" moments - oh that's why I do that!). If anything, Psychology reveals just how beautifully complex the human brain has been designed!
For example, did you know, that after being imprisoned for seven years during China's Cultural Revolution, pianist Liu Chi Kung went immediately back on tour. When asked how he had kept up his skill without a piano he replied, "I did practice every day. I rehearsed every piece I had ever played, note by note, in my mind" (Myers & Dewall).

Psychology has also taught me that labels are powerful things.
Recognizing thought patterns and their roots is half the battle and used properly they can equip us to understand ourselves.
But labels can also be used to negatively define ourselves and others, becoming the controlling factor; the focus instead of the person. 

Knowing that I'm a first-born child and more of an introvert equips me to respond to and embrace my personality, but it also reveals what I can work on and helps me see beyond myself.  Yet "introvert" remains a man-made category and doesn't have to define me.

I've only skimmed the surface of this fascinating and pioneering subject... who knows what the future holds!

References:
Myers, D. G. & Dewall C. N. (2015). Psychology. New York: Worth Publishers.

21 Things .03

Hidden Lives

One of my favourite movies is Hugo directed by Martin Scorsese which follows the life of an orphan boy in Paris 1931, his work in the train station as the keeper of the clocks, and his encounters with a young girl and her seclusive grandfather. What I find most intriguing about this film is that its based off of true events. There is something delightful about the colour and magic mingled with the ordinary!

At its core Hugo is a story about a man and a boy who think they've been forgotten by the world. Its a masterful tribute to the artistry of early film and the hidden lives of those who created them.
When I reflect on how many other lives have and are being lived unnoticed, I'm overwhelmed (working in a museum makes me very aware of them). Everyone has a story to tell, but 

"Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen."

Its comforting to know that God plants each flower with tender purpose.

~

I'm a lover of old films, especially the pioneering silent film era! It was actually The Invention of Hugo Cabret (the book that inspired the movie) that introduced me to Harold Lloyd, a brilliant silent film actor who has remained hidden, unfortunately, in Charlie Chaplin's shadow. 
Not long after discovering Harold's films I came down with a terrible cold and consoled myself by watching a bunch of them (thank goodness for youtube!). 

If you have any suggestions for good old movies, whether from the silent or dancing, musical eras, let me know :)  

21 Things .02

"Here and Now"

I don't know if its just me but I find birthdays bittersweet. Its like being handed clothes too big and expected to wear them until they fit. Problem is that just as they begin to feel comfortable its time to exchange them for new ones.  
Then I find myself reminiscing about the me that was, and though they're usually pleasant almost unconscious thoughts I'll suddenly feel a twinge of grief because they're the past, never to happen again. As such I'm finding that transitioning into adulthood involves a certain level of mourning.

Recently memories have flashed before me, surprising me with their vividness and the fact that there are no pictures to prompt them. 
I see my eight-year-old self on a date with my dad to the theatre to see a play (either Suessical the Musical or The Sound of Music). Without a whisper of a self-conscious thought I jump out of the car all dressed up for the occasion feeling pretty, confident and jittery with excitement.  
Then I see me on the playground during Grade 1 recess, leading a game of cowboys vs. wild horses (my imagination had been sparked by the movie Spirit) and helping to settle a conflict between my classmates.
And I wonder: where did that confident, outspoken little girl go?

~

Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury is one of those unassuming little books that contains priceless treasures. I read it over three months ago and the characters and themes continue to impact me. At its heart its a story about the mingling of age and time; a celebration of what it means to live. In one chapter an elderly lady is hording memorabilia from her past and trying in desperation to prove to the neighbouring children that she was once young herself. They refuse to believe her, and only after her most cherished photograph of her younger self is stolen does she realizes that,

"No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now."

I think that's what it means to grow old gracefully. Staying young at heart but not fighting the current.  As Scott F. Fitzgerald famously concludes in The Great Gatsby, people are like "boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." 
But while Fitzgerald's words are poetic and true, they leave me with a sense of hopelessness. I know I'm not old but I already find myself beating against the current and I don't want to get in the habit of living like that. How tiring!
I'm learning that childhood innocence and vivacity are beautiful things but that there is also beauty in the wisdom and experience that comes with age. 

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a (woman), I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known." - 1 Corinthians 13:11-12

21 Things .01

I'm back!

I don't usually do much for my birthday but the other day as I was thinking about turning 21 at the end of the month I thought, why not record a handful of my experiences and musings as an advent for the year ahead? 21 snapshots to share!
Here goes... :)

Upon the Threshold

Back in December I was completing my first semester of college and experiencing an odd combination of anticipation and dread. Dread because - as one of my profs pronounced it -"the great and glorious" week of exams had arrived (it really wasn't that dreadful, although I wouldn't call it "glorious" either!). Anticipation because I was only a few days away from my Christmas break which meant returning to the dear ol' Island and and my family.

Time is such a curious thing. 
During that week it languished in slow motion, oblivious to my silent requests to hurry up, and yet at the same time it rushed by in a whirlwind of studying, goodbyes, and events. Time isn't consistent but at least its reliable and eventually I found myself writing the last page of my last exam (Intro to English Lit), trying not to let my mind wander to my dad waiting patiently in the car outside or the ferry we needed to catch.

At the bottom of the page there was a bonus question; an invitation to write a haiku about my present thoughts or emotions.  It only took me a moment and I certainly felt the little poem more than I thought it...

In the crisp, cold air
I stand upon the threshold
Of the warmth of home.

Home. A haven. A place to recuperate. A place of solace where I know I'll be listened to and where I'm free to express myself.

What struck me that week on the cusp of the holiday season was how my happy emotions in regards to returning home were often contrasted by the mixed ones of many of my fellow classmates. Not everyone can associate home with warmth and my heart aches for those who return home with such uncertainty.

The older I get the more aware I am of the gift that my family is to me. We're not perfect but I'm thankful beyond measure for my parents and sister who have seen me at my best and worst and continue to love, support, comfort, and refine me.