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.
frame work
To question perspective is postmodern and relevant. A prof described history as an act of interpretation; he often repeated, “History is deciding the center from the margins.” Reading history, it would be easy to believe that there were centuries that women were fewer than five percent of the population. Now historians shift focus to what has been (considered) periphery for millennia– women and other races. The shift is somewhat difficult because the bias is two fold. Historians (mostly white males) have been more interested in white males; there is more evidence and material available about white men to research. I’m a fan of this shift because it provides a more accurate understanding and vivid picture of how things were in the past. This shift in focus does revise history somewhat, but doesn’t rewrite it. It provides additional information and broadens the picture, providing a panoramic view.
The act of interpretation happens in the macrocosm of history and the microcosm of my life. I constantly frame my life when people ask me questions. Two people brought this to my attention: As I chatted with M, he asked me, “What did you do fun this week?” I paused because I was prepared to answer about dreary job interviews and such, but not the parts of my week that filled me with delight. And, then we chatted about a movie and event I went to. He’d seen the movie. M’s question helped me assess how I think about my days and what I ask other people about. I find it’s easy to dwell in the miry pit of despair, but refreshing and rewarding to climb out of it.
Now, it is easy to frame my life in a list of failures and inadequacies. When people ask me what I do, I rarely say: read, write, run, laugh, sew, cook, encourage, play scrabulous. Instead I say I tutor and am looking for full-time employment. When asked about my relationship status, I say single instead of chatting chirpily about all my fabulous friends. However, I have one friend who looks at this segment of my life as if it were a field rife with possibility and space and time to dream and redirect. My natural response to all the rejection is despair, but she prods me to reframe the situation. The economy and government of God is grace and bounty not scarcity. Hope seems to be a flagrant denial of the visible evidence, but it is the framework of faith. I grip an identity so tightly my knuckles are white. I don’t know how to pray or plan in this phase of my life. Dr. Laura says the antidote to despair is purpose; so, I need purpose. Today, there’s a large part of me that thinks my problems would be solved if I were to land a job that I loved and would meet my financial responsibilities. The sane part of me acknowledges this crazy rationale and realizes it is unrealistic and simplistic. God must know that I need a job, money and dignity. I need to learn how to frame my life like the psalmists do. They acknowledge the rawness, brokeness and incompleteness of their life, but always end (sans 88 ) in the ultimate reality of God and his character.
Framing is a life-long process that I’m becoming aware of.
may is for weddings
Ah, I go to a wedding this Saturday and the next. Woohoo. I’ve escaped most of my friends’ weddings by being on the wrong coast or continent. Alas, I’ve no excuse for these. There’s no exorbidant plane ticket to hide behind.
This weekend is with Regent friends; my friend is officiating one of his best friend’s weddings in NC. I’m his “and guest”. It should be interesting: I’m the pastor’s “date”. It should be fun: the reception is at a Vineyard.
The second wedding is my cousin’s. Yay, large family gatherings. There are no “and guests” at this shindig. But, there is an open bar. And, my cousin said it was fine to wear a t-shirt and jeans to his 5:30 wedding. He implied that we were simply getting dressed up because we like to so much. So, I’ll take him up on the jeans.
I’m not excited; they just feel like expensive hassles. That said, I’m sure I’ll have fun.
Emphasis should be placed on anniversary parties over weddings– anybody can fall in love. Staying in love is the trick.
steel sharpens steel
How does one find a job after graduating from a seminary with no job placement services? Especially, when one was considering a PhD, but has found it a financial impossibility and is undecided in her field. One feels overwhelmed and discouraged and laments to friends, and on occasion her friends have useful ideas. If you’re in a similar situation or know somebody who is, here are some websites for positions in ministry (I was not aware of them until today):
www.churchstaffing.com
www.ministrylist.com
www.pastorfind.com
He also said a lot of para church organizations use careerbuilder.com.
When I told him I throw in the towel every other day then go back to retrieve it, he told me that we are like battleships that are impossible to stear when still. We have to be in motion for the Holy Spirit to guide us. (He also told me about two interviews that saying “Holy Spirit” cost him the job.) It’s time like these, that I wish I’d gotten my MBA or JD. Of course, I could always go back and get one. Wouldn’t it be lovely to enjoy and be good at something lucrative.
Maybe this info will help someone.
