Note to all die-hard pinkling fans ready for a fix (haha): Pinkling has found a new venue on Blogspot due to the technical difficulties she was having on WordPress. Here’s the freshest link: . She’ll put a link on her blog list as well.
excitement galore
I’m gazing at the first gardenia blossom unfurling a petal at a time! It’s been five years since the giant bush has produced buds, and this year it has over twenty large ones. The bud is opening from the outside in– there’s an unexpected grace to it.
Saturday, a friend shared an existential she’d had with a magnolia tree. While she reveled in the glorious tree and it’s blossom, she felt the beauty of the Lord upon her (to borrow from the celtic book of daily prayer). She stood there in awe of the perfect blossom, the fragrance, the magnitude of the tree, and she thought that humans with all our ingenuity could not design this.
More than once I stopped to soak in the mountains, English Bay and the general beauty that’s Vancouver. Worship effervesced in my soul during sunsets and early mornings. The beauty and grandeur overwhelmed and humbled me in a satisfactory manner. I was content in beholding the beauty; my petty annoyances took perspective. It’s the same with beaches and deserts; the vastness wakes awe in me.
But, the gardenia blossom awakes a different type of awe, wonder and worship. Noted theologian Oscar Wilde wrote, “God is in the details.” This blossom smells so sweet and clean. It’s beauty will last a week or two, then it will shrivel up, fall, decompose and feed the soil. There’s a decadence to this almost disposable beauty. But, it will come next year. This delicate, tiny and impermenant beauty declares aspects of the character and name of God that are equal to the statement declared by mountain chains.
I’d about given up on the bush as budless, but the chief stated she wanted to keep it regardless of rather or not it produced buds: it has lovely foliage and had been a Mother’s Day present. The chief modeled good theology in her patience and appreciation. The five-year dormancy has come to an end!
update
I’m not writing regularly because this feature now crashes my browser (I’m on a borrowed PC). My computer is four years old and is getting persnickety. Sunday through Wednesday I’m helping my uncle with my cousins while my aunt is away with the middle daughter. I have had a fabulous time hanging out with the self-dubbed drama queen and the drama princess.
Today I met with a pastor friend about a summer internship and started delivering applications to Starbucks in the area. It is fair to say I didn’t see this portion of my life on the horizon. But, right now, any job would do. I’m not underemployed but unemployed. “People” keep saying something will come up, but it’s been a long time and no real job has surfaced. Not that retail and food services are bad, but they do not play to any of my strengths. C’est la vie. I can tuck this under “Suffering Mysteries”.
I’m tired and signing off.
Can prep school make your kid rich?
Interesting article on scholarship kids and prep schools. Don’t know why I find this interesting.
the blue dress begins
My blue dress has begun. I might finish it my next session. Everything went much faster this time. I didn’t have to redo a single dart. Last time, I was truly a novice and redid each dart at least two times. My teacher told me that the sewing machine sounded different today. I’ve gained confidence, realizing that most mistakes are reversible. I’m using the same pattern but very different material and an “invisible zipper”. This fabric is loosely woven and far heavier than the teal dress. G believes that this one will be cooler than the other dress because although it’s heavier that it’ll breathe more.
My cooking classes came to an abrupt halt, and I’m learning how to sew. Today I felt all the excitement and adventure of learning something new: tonight I came home and looked at the Simplicity patterns online, trying to decide what next. Learning to sew helps me discover a new facet of myself– one where I get to incorporate different aspects of me. So far, sewing seems to weave my creativity, analytical nature, curiosity of style, frugality and daring into a thread. It’s bizarre to look at these amazing outfits and discover that they’re in my reach. After sewing for 2.5 hours (and hanging out with G) I came home in such a good mood. Sewing makes me hopeful and less caged. My lack of a wardrobe has been wearing on my psyche. And, sewing is a way to be generous (when I get better). Hope, indeed. Who knew? God is good, sabu.
adventures in spiritual direction
I met with my Benedictine monk at one pm today. I slept in late and skipped church (doesn’t bode well) because I got in late from my cos’s wedding. And after a leisurely morning of journaling and coffee, I managed to be late. I dashed up the stairs to the monastery where he sat serenely in a rocking chair.
We chatted as we travelled to the parlor; I’m not sure if monastaries have “parlors”. The monastary is huge and museum/boarding schoolish yet homey. I felt comfortable plopping down in the fancy chair.
He asked me to tell him about myself. I rambled and he asked questions in order to map out my basic history. I talked about not being able to hear God– and that it may be because I’m resisting what he’s telling me. And, I’m frustrated and discouraged because of the ongoing employment fiasco, which is ultimately a question of identity. I gushed, and he actively listened.
The brother is most pragmatic. I was waxing on all abstract and he would gently reel me in. He gave me a daily assignment and I report back next Saturday.
This afternoon as I was doing my lectio divina– words DID stick out. I read Peter’s instruction in Acts: “Change your life” to the people’s question of how to respond to hearing about Jesus. The brother’s practical, mundane, common-sensical advice fit this. He said we are called to be Christ like; this is our goal above all else.
There are two practical things I’m going to do this week. I’m going to try to ingrain these things as habit. We’ll see. It’s as he said, “Baby steps. Just baby steps.”
irregular pulse
“… we should always start by attributing it to our own lukewarmness, and leave it to our spiritual director if it be of God’s doing.”
Today, I took my resume and filled out an application at another job. I had an interview at a christian school that started off well then thudded when the headmaster came. He kept asking, “Why, why, why?” It was incredibly asinine. I really liked the principal and academic dean. I figured he preferred another candidate and was miffed that I was taking up his time. I don’t think I’m interested because it looks like they put emphasis on conversion, and I don’t even like churches who do that– let alone schools. Really, I’m not interested because of my interaction with that off putting man. He reminded me of all the things I loath about the southern church. I can think of few places that would be worse to have a theological degree. But, I’m disgusted with my reaction to him; I let him rattle me. Just because he was a disturbing monster didn’t excuse my behavior. I’ll simply write my thank you note to the principal and tell her it was a pleasure to meet her and the academic dean, which it was. I can write that job off.
I gave blood this afternoon, literally. I have an irregular heartbeat, but everything else was in the very healthy range. My blood pressure and pulse were impressive. So, I got to contribute in some way today.
Today, I also realized I left my beautiful hand-painted scarf in the hotel in Winston-Salem this weekend. Dang it. I hope whoever found it enjoys it. That scarf my mom gave me while we were in Vancouver; we bought it on Granville Island.
After the disastrous interview, I swung by the Benedictine monastary down the road and chatted with their secretary. Fr. Anthony called me but got my voicemail. I’m in desperate need of some spiritual direction. I’m floundering, second-guessing every decision I’ve made. Tomorrow, C and I will climb Mt. Crowder; that will be good for my wilting soul.
cunning notions
Can you tell I’ve been reading a magazine called Sew Stylish? The world of sewing offers new vistas of ideas and things to buy– lots of notions. Sewing my green dress has stirred musings of possibility. Gorgeous clothes seemed out of reach due to expense, but, maybe, if I develop the skill, patience and eye, I can be stylish after all. And, questions of morality of clothing choices is somewhat diminished through my role as laborer.
My next dress will be cobalt blue, midweight cotton with good drape. And, I bought an invisible zipper… cunning. As I was shopping in the cloth store, I discovered certain colors draw me. Certain blue, greens, purples and corals woo me. Whites, tans, oranges, yellows, reds leave me alone. And, I’m drawn to textured cloth; the linen and wool tables attracted me. I like nubby. I like sheen too, but I like sheen with some texture. And, I’m just not a pattern sort of a girl; maybe, it’s because I have a really hard time visualizing the end product. It’s odd that I find patterns annoying but love bold colors.
*****
So, hopefully I’ll have a job that will provide me with a venue to wear my new threads. Next week, I have an interview at a bank. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “Great fit… I’m talking about your, um, teal dress.” So, not a job that would play to a single strength, but these kinds of situations build character, eh?
I was discussing with a friend about the possibility of interning at a church to figure out if that’s an undiscovered mine of vocational opportunity. She got back to me that they would love to have me for an unpaid internship. I get to use my masters for free, too bad I still have to pay back my student loans. Maybe I could write Fannie Mae and explain the situation: yea, they’re excited to have me work for them, but they don’t want to pay me. I’m getting to use the education; I just won’t ever be gainfully employed. How about I pay you with some organs and harvest my eggs? My parts are worth more than my sum. Will that work for you? Too bad I no longer live in a college town where the pay to do weird research on you– the real reason to move to Chapel Hill.
****
On a less morbid note, a little girl I tutored today gave me a butterfly she made. It’s quite cute; she’s a talented artist. Her choice of hue and shape choice. I put it on my fridge; I get paid in paper butterflies. I wonder what would happen if I sent in the butterfly in lieu of a check to pay a bill.
It reminds me of a conversation I had with my aunt who’s owned her own firm for over thirty years. A principal asked me if “I’d still help them” although he refused to meet my salary requirement (I’m a greedy bitch, I wanted over minimum wage.) I asked my aunt if she thought the principal would have asked a man if he’d “still help them out.” (One of the problems with the service professions is that market and social norms are confused, especially when you are a woman. Women still make around .70 to a 1.00 a man makes.) My aunt responded, “Well, stores give you a discount for being a woman, right? And, insurance gives you a break because you’re a woman, right? You get a break on your rent because you’re female, right?” Then, she started laughing. I didn’t strike a cord with her.
*****
I read one of the writing books I’ve invested in. Maybe, I’ll incorporate the ideas into my blog. What did you say? Sometime soon, please?
Ah, be kind.
statement of purpose
I like when organizations have succinct, concrete mission statements. As much as I make fun of five year and ten year plans, I decided to concoct my list. I am a hypocrite. Dr. Laura said the anecdote to despair is purpose. I’m weary and wary of despair, and Dr. Laura is up there with Oprah and Dr. Phil. So, it was fun to think about reasonable possibilities. I found the exercise interesting in how I naturally categorized by time and realized that my life is headed in certain directions already.
I’m interested in pursuing two more degrees: PhD and MFA.
I want to become proficient at sewing and cooking.
I want to be financially stable.
I’d love to adopt a child around age 40.
Next year, I want to run a marathon and get certified in scuba diving.
I want to become a skilled writer. (Aha, this blog is part of the arc, but so is reading about writing and the writing club. So, the blog serves a purpose.)
This weekend, I met some amazing people in their sixties and seventies. They were so alive, humble and generous. I want to aim towards their lives.
wedding review
Saturday, I attended a friend of a friend’s wedding in Winston-Salem. It was lovely and meaningful. It felt like a mini Regent reunion; I got to catch up with people in person. C and I joked about giving each other plants on Facebook as our main communication. I was in awe of my friend’s hosts; they were the epitome of southern and Christian graciousness. G was a far more gracious host than I was an “and guest”, and his homily took root inside my head and will gradually seep into my heart. After this weekend, I wouldn’t mind moving to Winston. I don’t need to eat this coming week thanks to the multiple feasts of which I partook. Seeing the amazing Regent people, it assuaged the tinges of regret over going to Regent. It would have made far more sense to get a business or law degree, but I didn’t. One doesn’t pay the bills with theology… at least not the kind of theology I studied. And, I met a surgeon interested in finding out more about volunteering at the Pan-African Academy of Surgery. Sweet. I’m still getting cold sweats over stupid stuff I said, but I’m hoping that I’m the only person who pays close attention to what I say.
FYI: a vineyard is a great venue for a wedding reception.
