So I've been feeling a bit 'out' the past while... musings...

I've never been the typical girl, or even, a person that falls too easily into categories. Not that any of us really are, if we are to believe the PoMos, but sometimes I wonder if I'm not unusual even for unusualities. I'm loud and sociable, the typical extrovert, but at the same time I can't live without my personal, reflective time like any other introvert. I can go for days joking about anything and everything, but at the switch of a tone, I can slip into serious existential discussions. I'm the tomboy who likes to climb things and knows how to punch boys, but I also like wearing dresses and dressing up. I read and think like a BA, but I also really like exercise and sport. [And I miss maths and science.]

Versatile, the Sister calls it. Fair enough. Except that sometimes getting along with everyone means that you don't fit in with anyone at all.

I know that I've presented a lot of stereotypes in the first paragraph, but I think I just wanted to say that sometimes I feel out of sync with whichever group of friends I'm hanging out with. Even with my church friends, who are more than friends - they have the (un)fortunate position of being family, muhahahahhahaha ... Sometimes, especially with my church friends. Umm.. I don't know where I'm actually going with this post. It's not as though I'd like all my readers who are also my friends to suddenly develop an interest in Google Wave (google's latest offering), Ruth Stone (amazing American poet), my gym schedule, and what-happened-when-I-went-wine-tasting-on-Saturday all at the same time, 'cause I have different friends that cater for different types of conversations and friendships. It's not that I want your sympathy or sudden attention either - that's definitely not going to make things better. I think, I just wanted to say that it's okay if you don't fit in either. In fact, how much more amazing is what God has done in unifying for himself a body that doesn't quite always move like an Olympic athlete's but rather like a gangly pre-teen boy.

No, wait. That's not quite the conclusion I was going for either. Let's try this again:

It's okay if you don't fit in, because you shouldn't be defined by the company we keep, nor by the company we slot into. It's okay - 'cause God has made you to be a crazy cool unique individual who doesn't need to feel as though you fit in with a specific group to be a person.

Yes, that's it. Much better.

PS PoMos -Po[st]Mo[dern]s

PPS I don't get along with everyone in the whole world. A lot of people, though ;).

bitter bitter bitter

I was sitting in church the other day, when Lee (our morning minister) asked the congregation if they (me) were in danger of becoming Christians who were embittered by their trials and disappointments. In previous years I would've been quick to say 'No' (and it would've been an honest No). This time round, I realized that I could not truthfully say No - in the past year or so, I've definitely notched up one or two experiences which I have not (yet) fully handed over to God. If I am honest with myself, I am still struggling to obey God's decision about how they played out, and I'm still struggling to trust that He is Infintitely Wise.

What had changed?, I wondered when I felt the No struggle inside me. Was it that I'd become less godly, and that things had somehow become harder? Was it that I'd become a 'weaker' Christian?

I realized later it wasn't that I'd become less godly - the simple fact of the matter is that when I was younger I hadn't had the opportunity to face half the trials and issues that I was dealing with now. That particular area of my godliness hadn't been tested at all! And this is something I'm blogging about now so that in 30 years from now when I am stuck with a sulky teenybopper, a broken-down motorbike and an awful purple haircut, I will be reminded that the longer life goes on, the more resentments and bitternesses I will be tempted to lug around with me. And Dear Grace of the Future, it is not that you are less godly than the Grace of the Right Now, it is just that God has seen fit to test you through more.

What then? Lee then carried on with some amazing words said by the one-time Bishop of Tanzania:

There is no future in Frustration.

Remember that, Grace of the Future. There is no glory in bitterness, there is no hope in a dead end. Trust and Obey.

Party party, rock on.

Never fear, dear reader, I am still alive and well. The recurring sinusitis has not done me in yet! (Hallelujah!) Neither have I, as one of my friends suggested, learnt everything I possibly could ever learn, therefore rendering my blog redundant. I have just been traveling the streets of the world, searching for whispers of truth tucked away in corners, doorways, and hearts. I have been watching people at parties, watching how they drown themselves in drink, dance, and each other. I have sat in parks, listening to the pleasant chatter of mothers and the exuberant laughter of children. I have gone to dinners at fancy restaurants, wining and dining in luxuriantly wooded and beautifully styled rooms. 

And what can I tell you that I have learnt?

I have learnt that playing is a very serious business. 

Let me repeat this thought: Playing is a very serious business. Never before has the world (i.e. the middleclass/upperclass/people who can afford it) had at its fingertips the type of resources for entertainment and pleasure that it has right now at its present stage. And never before, has the world been so booooooooored before. But still we play. And it is at this point, that the following anecdote falls into mind. It comes from a book called The Salaried Masses by Siegfried Kracauer, which is a sociological account of a study he did amongst the salaried employees in a post-WW Germany. Speaking about an interview he had with a secretary and her work colleagues habits of entertainment, Kracauer writes:

"Then she gives an extremely odd reaons for the fact that the girls generally avoid serious conversations. 'Serious conversations', she said, 'only distract and divert you from surroundings that you'd like to enjoy.' If distracting effects are ascribed to serious talk, distraction must be a deadly serious matter.'

We play for many reasons, primarily because it IS fun, but Kracauer seems to touch on a point made in Ecclesiastes 7:2

It is better to go to a house of mourning

than to go to a house of feasting

for death is the destiny of every man;

the living should take this to heart

Playing becomes a deadly serious matter, when we undertake it to escape thoughts of death and what that might bring, ne-c'est pas? And in a culture where it's becoming increasingly bourgeoise to talk about serious matters, it seems then that play itself has become a serious matter...

Iboohoohoo

I am currently sitting in my bed, just having left an awesome party. I've already spent the last SIX days in bed, and was quite convinced that I was ready to tackle the real world and its people once more. But after a mere two hours, I was already exhausted, and my throat was acting up so instead of speaking louder to compensate from the pumping music, I could only speak softer. Blergh. So I left.

As I got into the house, relieved to walk into a quiet zone, without people around without whom I'd want to exert energy on, I realized that I am not grateful enough. How must it be for people who don't have the blessing of good health? I'd go MENTAL if this was to be my existence for more than a week or two. Shoh. Why is it that it's only when things go wrong or get broken that we are remember to be grateful for the things we have?

Anyway, I'm going to sleep now. My throat and head are still kinda wooooooozy.