Today is a packing day. Waiting for my mom to get here this morning to help me... and when I say help, I actually mean sit in a chair nearby, reading a newspaper and quietly forcing me to get work done. Because I am a procrastinator of the worst kind and we both know it. Last night I called her in a moment of panic: I look at my stuff, know it needs to get packed, and feel all the negative energy of not wanting to do it surge through my body like the Rebel Alliance. So she is coming to hold my feet to the fire... while simultaneously holding my hand. I know... it's ridiculous. But we won't go there. You do what you have to do.
I'm also seriously considering getting off facebook... at least for a while. I've really come to realize that I use it for the wrong reasons, mostly because as a pianist, I spend the majority of my life in a cave, making facebook a primary point of contact with the outside world. It isn't an inherently bad thing, but if left unchecked, I think it could become really unhealthy over time. And I know it tends to become unhealthy for me at different times. When you relate less to actual people, your ability to want to do that and to be able to do that well diminishes. I've also come to realize that when I give up something or go without, I don't sit there wishing I had it back. I just adjust and go on... i.e. I know how to manipulate myself back into a proper state of human relation. And it's not just about me. I honestly think it's high time we got away from the computer and started relating to each other properly once again. I realize that the more I put on facebook, the less people may actually feel inclined to relate to me personally. They don't need to ask about anything because they know everything already. It's honestly ridiculous what social media has done to us. If people want to call me, they can call. If they want to email, they can email. Or check the blog. Or heaven forbid, write me a letter. But this business of putting everything out there all the time for an entire public square to see and comment on... I think it only puffs up our personal sense of importance and isolates us even more than we may already feel. I know that I will seek out the friends I truly care about more intentionally without it.
And yes, part of it is that I feel like I'm letting out too much of my own information and I want to regain control of that. But I also think about many people whom I greatly admire and respect that aren't on facebook and have spent their entire lives without it. And they are some of the wisest and most gracious human beings I know.
It's a bold move, but I think I'm ready for it...
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
pause
As much as I would love to brush this under the rug and just go practice this morning, I know I need to get it out. Sometimes my blog is one of the primary ways in which I feel heard... by who? I have no idea. I just know that I need to 1. write it out (my favorite music theory professor always used to say that writing is thinking... yes, yes, yes: he is beyond right) and 2. feel like I'm heard, even if it's a complete illusion. At the very least, my grandma. She is the one faithful reader I'm always sure of. I'm pretty sure she checks here every day. Thank for doing that, Grandma. I hope you know how much that means to me.
Last night I found out that the empty-nesters I'm moving in with found out suddenly and surprisingly that several of their family members are coming into town for several days next weekend. Because of this new development, they've asked me to postpone moving til a few days later or the following weekend. It would be a lie to say that I'm ok with this. Slightly disappointed and saddened is more like it. There are good things -- extra time to pack and organize the logistics of the move, both of which I have totally struggled with recently, as well as getting my full month's rent out of the current place I'm in. But mostly it means two more weeks with the guys instead of just one. Le sigh... and groan.
I've also been thinking a lot about England lately. My friends who moved there, the Griggs, have been faithfully posting so many wonderful things about their adventures in getting settled in a new country. It brings back so many sweet memories of my stay there six years ago... and it makes me want to go back so, so bad. I can't tell yet if it's because I'm frustrated with certain things here or if it's because I really want to go back. Probably a healthy dose of both.
My brother randomly came home this weekend. Picked him up at the train station in Kirkwood Saturday night at midnight (two hours later than it should've been because of a train delay). We went back to my place, got about five or six hours of sleep, got up, and left again at 7:30 the next morning so I could go play for the Lutherans at Orchard Farm. Then we went back to my church for the 11:15 service. It was definitely an adventure and I was glad he was able to come home and be with me for a day. I wish he was here more often... but then I would never get anything done. And he would never settle down to the hard work of growing up. It's definitely better that he's in school right now.
Finished "The Voyage Out." Definitely one of the most anti-climactic endings of a book ever written. Totally confirms my analysis in my last post. Picked up "Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis, since we're going through certain parts of it in our senior high student ministry this fall. It is already refreshing and mind-blowing.
Practice this morning, rehearsal at Lutheran, then three students. Still so much to figure out right now. I guess I should be happy my professional life is mostly under control... mostly. Sometimes a good night's sleep can change everything. But sometimes it just feels like you're putting reality on pause. That is definitely the case right now.
Last night I found out that the empty-nesters I'm moving in with found out suddenly and surprisingly that several of their family members are coming into town for several days next weekend. Because of this new development, they've asked me to postpone moving til a few days later or the following weekend. It would be a lie to say that I'm ok with this. Slightly disappointed and saddened is more like it. There are good things -- extra time to pack and organize the logistics of the move, both of which I have totally struggled with recently, as well as getting my full month's rent out of the current place I'm in. But mostly it means two more weeks with the guys instead of just one. Le sigh... and groan.
I've also been thinking a lot about England lately. My friends who moved there, the Griggs, have been faithfully posting so many wonderful things about their adventures in getting settled in a new country. It brings back so many sweet memories of my stay there six years ago... and it makes me want to go back so, so bad. I can't tell yet if it's because I'm frustrated with certain things here or if it's because I really want to go back. Probably a healthy dose of both.
My brother randomly came home this weekend. Picked him up at the train station in Kirkwood Saturday night at midnight (two hours later than it should've been because of a train delay). We went back to my place, got about five or six hours of sleep, got up, and left again at 7:30 the next morning so I could go play for the Lutherans at Orchard Farm. Then we went back to my church for the 11:15 service. It was definitely an adventure and I was glad he was able to come home and be with me for a day. I wish he was here more often... but then I would never get anything done. And he would never settle down to the hard work of growing up. It's definitely better that he's in school right now.
Finished "The Voyage Out." Definitely one of the most anti-climactic endings of a book ever written. Totally confirms my analysis in my last post. Picked up "Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis, since we're going through certain parts of it in our senior high student ministry this fall. It is already refreshing and mind-blowing.
Practice this morning, rehearsal at Lutheran, then three students. Still so much to figure out right now. I guess I should be happy my professional life is mostly under control... mostly. Sometimes a good night's sleep can change everything. But sometimes it just feels like you're putting reality on pause. That is definitely the case right now.
Friday, September 14, 2012
a lot on my mind... and Virginia
There's been a lot on my mind lately. Good thing it's a lazy morning and I have time to (somewhat) sift through a bunch of it. Thoughts running through my head this morning...
- I'm moving. In a week. And I haven't done a single thing to start packing.
- Purging. I'm going to have to purge some stuff. I've acquired quite the little one-person household's worth of stuff in the past year or so and I'm moving into the equivalent of a bedroom and a bathroom... if that.
- Some friends of mine wanted to see if they could help me move my bed, dresser, and personals this weekend... logistically, I am so not ready. Oops...
- Thankful for the cooler weather. This morning when I woke up, it was like 60 degrees and rainy. So, so, so thankful.
- I have student requests coming out my ears. In the past week alone, I've been approached by three different families with eight kids combined who want lessons. That's in addition to the twelve I already have. Holy cow.
- Regardless of work and urges to pack in the back of my mind, all I want to do is practice. I started working on new rep this fall and I'm in love with it. I basically have the equivalent of a school-girl crush on my Bach Partita... [insert robot voice]: "Take me to your piano..."
- I'm realizing that I am such an introvert. Much more than I ever realized. Wondering how I'm going to fit in with a couple of extroverted empty-nesters in my temporary new home...
- In light of my brother being gone now, I'm also realizing that my mom is such an extrovert. It has really been hard on her to not have anyone in the house. And she's realizing the same about me... that we're not who we thought the other was. It's been another phase of adjustment.
Also, oddly enough, not that this has anything to do with any of the actual stuff going on in my life right now, but I've been thinking a lot lately about the book I'm close to finishing. I'm roughly two chapters from the end in Virginia Woolf's "The Voyage Out" and it has been the hardest book I've ever read in my life. It's taken me twice as long to finish it as it should have. Simultaneously boring and stressful, it's the story of Rachel Vinrace, the daughter of a ship's captain who sails to South America on her father's boat, along with her aunt, uncle, and several other people. Once she gets to S. America, she stays there with her aunt and uncle and falls in love with another Englishman, Terence, who's there on holiday as well. They eventually become engaged and [SPOILER] shortly thereafter, she gets sick and dies. All along the way, the characters miss each other in communication and continually contemplate the meaning of it all... why do we get married anyway? What does it really mean to fall in love? What does society expect from women? How do we know that we're actually communicating with anyone or that other people understand us at all? How do we deal with the fact that we often feel like singular creatures in a vast universe, unable to really communicate with anyone else? When I started the book, the premise of it seemed quite entrancing, and so I kept reading, hoping I would eventually get to the good part. But it never came. Yesterday I voiced much of my frustration on facebook, which was actually a very therapeutic process because it forced me to get it all out and go back to square one. As in, what is Virginia getting at in this ridiculous story of which nothing truly good or interesting happens and nobody understands each other??
And what I came to was this: This book is a parody of life. It's a mirror of us and society and Virginia doesn't have any answers for us. She just wants us to ask the same questions that the characters ask and wrestle with them ourselves. This is particularly evident in her treatment of Rachel's death and the way the other characters react to it in the days following. Virginia doesn't end the book with Rachel's death... she ends it with an outcry of frustrated questions from the other characters as to what it all means, as well as the continuation of the mundane at both the hotel and the villa where the story is set. The entire book is one big, fat, rhetorical question contemplating the dark loneliness of the human experience and the search for meaning within it. Virginia asks us to wrestle with those hard questions and then tells us, "Well, the thing is... we don't actually know what it all means or what the purpose is, but somehow, life goes on..." Cool. Thanks for that, girl...
... and yet, I am so glad that I'm going to finish it. Not only do I feel a personal sense of triumph and growth in struggling through such a hard book, but I also feel like what she has to say is both relevant and valid. How many people do you know that are asking the same questions today with the same lack of hope? I don't know about you, but so many people that I come into contact with are right there with her... and if not, they're on the edge. Everyone is just trying to keep their head above water, to not get bogged down in the deep undercurrent of despair that our culture is facing in the midst of this economic struggle.
And yet, we have hope. For those who believe in him, we can rest in the assurance of being unified to Christ. No matter what happens or what struggles we face, he came for us and looks on us as sons and daughters. And he will come for us again one day at the end, when all questions will be answered and we'll rest in glory. But our greatest gift in the face of questions and hardship isn't the process of living or the oasis to come. It's the presence of Christ, given to us both now and in eternity. We may not understand everything, but we do have hope. And it's found in the person of Jesus.
"For he who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all -- how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?"
- I'm moving. In a week. And I haven't done a single thing to start packing.
- Purging. I'm going to have to purge some stuff. I've acquired quite the little one-person household's worth of stuff in the past year or so and I'm moving into the equivalent of a bedroom and a bathroom... if that.
- Some friends of mine wanted to see if they could help me move my bed, dresser, and personals this weekend... logistically, I am so not ready. Oops...
- Thankful for the cooler weather. This morning when I woke up, it was like 60 degrees and rainy. So, so, so thankful.
- I have student requests coming out my ears. In the past week alone, I've been approached by three different families with eight kids combined who want lessons. That's in addition to the twelve I already have. Holy cow.
- Regardless of work and urges to pack in the back of my mind, all I want to do is practice. I started working on new rep this fall and I'm in love with it. I basically have the equivalent of a school-girl crush on my Bach Partita... [insert robot voice]: "Take me to your piano..."
- I'm realizing that I am such an introvert. Much more than I ever realized. Wondering how I'm going to fit in with a couple of extroverted empty-nesters in my temporary new home...
- In light of my brother being gone now, I'm also realizing that my mom is such an extrovert. It has really been hard on her to not have anyone in the house. And she's realizing the same about me... that we're not who we thought the other was. It's been another phase of adjustment.
Also, oddly enough, not that this has anything to do with any of the actual stuff going on in my life right now, but I've been thinking a lot lately about the book I'm close to finishing. I'm roughly two chapters from the end in Virginia Woolf's "The Voyage Out" and it has been the hardest book I've ever read in my life. It's taken me twice as long to finish it as it should have. Simultaneously boring and stressful, it's the story of Rachel Vinrace, the daughter of a ship's captain who sails to South America on her father's boat, along with her aunt, uncle, and several other people. Once she gets to S. America, she stays there with her aunt and uncle and falls in love with another Englishman, Terence, who's there on holiday as well. They eventually become engaged and [SPOILER] shortly thereafter, she gets sick and dies. All along the way, the characters miss each other in communication and continually contemplate the meaning of it all... why do we get married anyway? What does it really mean to fall in love? What does society expect from women? How do we know that we're actually communicating with anyone or that other people understand us at all? How do we deal with the fact that we often feel like singular creatures in a vast universe, unable to really communicate with anyone else? When I started the book, the premise of it seemed quite entrancing, and so I kept reading, hoping I would eventually get to the good part. But it never came. Yesterday I voiced much of my frustration on facebook, which was actually a very therapeutic process because it forced me to get it all out and go back to square one. As in, what is Virginia getting at in this ridiculous story of which nothing truly good or interesting happens and nobody understands each other??
And what I came to was this: This book is a parody of life. It's a mirror of us and society and Virginia doesn't have any answers for us. She just wants us to ask the same questions that the characters ask and wrestle with them ourselves. This is particularly evident in her treatment of Rachel's death and the way the other characters react to it in the days following. Virginia doesn't end the book with Rachel's death... she ends it with an outcry of frustrated questions from the other characters as to what it all means, as well as the continuation of the mundane at both the hotel and the villa where the story is set. The entire book is one big, fat, rhetorical question contemplating the dark loneliness of the human experience and the search for meaning within it. Virginia asks us to wrestle with those hard questions and then tells us, "Well, the thing is... we don't actually know what it all means or what the purpose is, but somehow, life goes on..." Cool. Thanks for that, girl...
... and yet, I am so glad that I'm going to finish it. Not only do I feel a personal sense of triumph and growth in struggling through such a hard book, but I also feel like what she has to say is both relevant and valid. How many people do you know that are asking the same questions today with the same lack of hope? I don't know about you, but so many people that I come into contact with are right there with her... and if not, they're on the edge. Everyone is just trying to keep their head above water, to not get bogged down in the deep undercurrent of despair that our culture is facing in the midst of this economic struggle.
And yet, we have hope. For those who believe in him, we can rest in the assurance of being unified to Christ. No matter what happens or what struggles we face, he came for us and looks on us as sons and daughters. And he will come for us again one day at the end, when all questions will be answered and we'll rest in glory. But our greatest gift in the face of questions and hardship isn't the process of living or the oasis to come. It's the presence of Christ, given to us both now and in eternity. We may not understand everything, but we do have hope. And it's found in the person of Jesus.
"For he who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all -- how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?"
Friday, September 7, 2012
better
A quick post so I don't leave you, the reader in a place of despair per my last posting...
I found a place to live, and a good one at that. I am super relieved beyond imagination. I can't tell you how much less anxiety I've dealt with the past few days, knowing I have somewhere to go (and in less than three weeks). About a week and a half ago, I posted something about "things I'm not really interested in" dealing with regarding a living situation on facebook; there was an entire list of about 8-10 things (i.e. living with boys, or dramatic girls, or people I work with, or moving across the river into St. Charles), and within an hour or less, the mom of one of my old girlfriends from college commented, asking if I'd want to live in their basement. We took some time, thought about it, and then met on Monday to hash out the details. I think it's going to be a really good situation, whether temporary or longer-term. They are empty-nesters of seven kids and from what I can tell, it seems like they're just looking for a third personality to balance things out between the two of them. Plus, they're really wonderful people and have a firm desire to see me get out of a living situation with three guys... thankful doesn't even describe it. My anxiety levels are once again in a controllable state. I foresee that in another month or so, Katie will be back to her usual coffee-driven self. And if you've been praying about this issue (ahem... Grandma), then you have all my thanks in the world and many hugs coming your way the next time I see you :)
I did meet the new male roommate. I think he's finally over trying to impress me. The first couple of days, he was really sweet and friendly. And then he started putting his Cocoa Krispie bowls in the dishwasher with Krispies stuck to them and leaving his shaving stuff all over the vanity in the bathroom. After a day or two, I started seeing less of him and for better or worse, our bathroom now officially smells like a man. It's one thing to live with all of that when you're related to a guy or married to him, but I've gotta be honest, when there's no love and no sex, it's just downright annoying and ridiculous. And of course, I still lock my door at night.
Less than three weeks, guys. Less than three weeks...
And I am sick to death of this election. Already. So tired of opinions flying everywhere. The other day, I pulled up to a student's house and there was a huge Obama sign tied between two trees right there in their front yard... to the tune of billboard-sized. Just a subtle tribute to the Democratic National Convention, right? No big deal. The next day, I went to another student's house, walked in, the DNC was on the television, and both the mom and my student gave me a 10-minute spiel about why Romney is the better choice and I need to vote Republican. Little do any of them know their poor piano teacher is completely disillusioned with both sides. I absolutely do not care what anyone thinks regarding either candidate because nothing they say can convince me that either side is the better pick. I'll just be glad when it's over and we can all groan together at the thought of the next four years.
I found a place to live, and a good one at that. I am super relieved beyond imagination. I can't tell you how much less anxiety I've dealt with the past few days, knowing I have somewhere to go (and in less than three weeks). About a week and a half ago, I posted something about "things I'm not really interested in" dealing with regarding a living situation on facebook; there was an entire list of about 8-10 things (i.e. living with boys, or dramatic girls, or people I work with, or moving across the river into St. Charles), and within an hour or less, the mom of one of my old girlfriends from college commented, asking if I'd want to live in their basement. We took some time, thought about it, and then met on Monday to hash out the details. I think it's going to be a really good situation, whether temporary or longer-term. They are empty-nesters of seven kids and from what I can tell, it seems like they're just looking for a third personality to balance things out between the two of them. Plus, they're really wonderful people and have a firm desire to see me get out of a living situation with three guys... thankful doesn't even describe it. My anxiety levels are once again in a controllable state. I foresee that in another month or so, Katie will be back to her usual coffee-driven self. And if you've been praying about this issue (ahem... Grandma), then you have all my thanks in the world and many hugs coming your way the next time I see you :)
I did meet the new male roommate. I think he's finally over trying to impress me. The first couple of days, he was really sweet and friendly. And then he started putting his Cocoa Krispie bowls in the dishwasher with Krispies stuck to them and leaving his shaving stuff all over the vanity in the bathroom. After a day or two, I started seeing less of him and for better or worse, our bathroom now officially smells like a man. It's one thing to live with all of that when you're related to a guy or married to him, but I've gotta be honest, when there's no love and no sex, it's just downright annoying and ridiculous. And of course, I still lock my door at night.
Less than three weeks, guys. Less than three weeks...
And I am sick to death of this election. Already. So tired of opinions flying everywhere. The other day, I pulled up to a student's house and there was a huge Obama sign tied between two trees right there in their front yard... to the tune of billboard-sized. Just a subtle tribute to the Democratic National Convention, right? No big deal. The next day, I went to another student's house, walked in, the DNC was on the television, and both the mom and my student gave me a 10-minute spiel about why Romney is the better choice and I need to vote Republican. Little do any of them know their poor piano teacher is completely disillusioned with both sides. I absolutely do not care what anyone thinks regarding either candidate because nothing they say can convince me that either side is the better pick. I'll just be glad when it's over and we can all groan together at the thought of the next four years.
Monday, September 3, 2012
three boys
A quick post this morning. I'm giving myself five minutes to write because I just need to. I've been really out of touch with myself lately, mostly because I've been stressed out beyond all measure. And of course, when you're in a hard spot, everything is painful... even things that shouldn't be painful, purely by default of where you're at alone.
I'm currently in the process of getting out of my house. After this weekend, I'll be living with three boys. That's right. Three. My female roommate is moving out and "Ben the new roommate" is moving in. I'll spare you the gory details but the other morning when I found a beer can in the bathroom, my initial thought was, "Ughhh! Gross!!!" followed by the next thought of "I have got to get out of here..."
Underneath that layer is the far more painful one of knowing why I'm in this situation in the first place i.e. still not having found the right person, married successfully, and settled down. Now that I write that out, it looks completely ridiculous, and yet it is still an ache in my gut that I have to address daily and talk/pray myself through, one hour at a time.
And of course (albeit TMI), my fissure has opened up again due to all the stress I've been under. Cool.
I absolutely hate this. I hate being the one who "needs lots of prayers." I want to be the happy, self-sufficient one who no one has to worry about. I want to be the one who can handle my issues, even when they're big ones. Pretty sure that's why I've been out of touch with myself lately. Every time I look inside myself, all I see is pain and heartache and I'm tired of dealing with it.
Sometimes the wrestling is too much... I mean, what do you pray when you're that overwhelmed? Dear God, I cannot deal with myself or my issues right now. Please change something.
I'm currently in the process of getting out of my house. After this weekend, I'll be living with three boys. That's right. Three. My female roommate is moving out and "Ben the new roommate" is moving in. I'll spare you the gory details but the other morning when I found a beer can in the bathroom, my initial thought was, "Ughhh! Gross!!!" followed by the next thought of "I have got to get out of here..."
Underneath that layer is the far more painful one of knowing why I'm in this situation in the first place i.e. still not having found the right person, married successfully, and settled down. Now that I write that out, it looks completely ridiculous, and yet it is still an ache in my gut that I have to address daily and talk/pray myself through, one hour at a time.
And of course (albeit TMI), my fissure has opened up again due to all the stress I've been under. Cool.
I absolutely hate this. I hate being the one who "needs lots of prayers." I want to be the happy, self-sufficient one who no one has to worry about. I want to be the one who can handle my issues, even when they're big ones. Pretty sure that's why I've been out of touch with myself lately. Every time I look inside myself, all I see is pain and heartache and I'm tired of dealing with it.
Sometimes the wrestling is too much... I mean, what do you pray when you're that overwhelmed? Dear God, I cannot deal with myself or my issues right now. Please change something.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)