Raising Questions...again.

It's been a semester. I have made it through an entire semester. I read over the posts on this blog tonight. And I saw it, I actually saw it. Growth.

That's right, growth. The memories tied to each of my blog posts show me this semester so clearly. And I see questions. I see getting answers. I see myself realizing that those answers are wrong.

So as I leave this, my third semester of college, behind me. I find myself leaving with more questions than I started with. I begin this semester thinking that I would find answers to my questions, but I only found more questions. And for once, I'm okay with that. I don't need to find the answers.

I think I might keep posting to this blog. This Providence experience is giving me too many questions not to chronicle this.

I'm raising questions. Again. And it's wonderful.

The Eleventh Hour.

I'm now in my eleventh hour of my fall 2006 semester here at Providence. I'm about to give up the ghost. Two papers. Two projects. Final Exams. All that remains. It's relieving. But also a bit sad. The end of something of is always a bit bitter sweet.

I had a meeting with my resident director this morning. We meet for an hour every week to discuss my RA role. We talked about seeing things in my dorm coming to fruition. That's how I feel about the coming semester. I want to see my work come to fruition. I want all that I have learned in this semester to create something wonderful next semester.

It's like planting that tiny little seed, and working so hard to nurture it, and then finally seeing it bloom.

I want my semester at Prov to bloom.

Overflowing.

I firmly believe that the human mind is only meant to hold so much information. My brain is now filled to capacity. Facts, figures, dates, papers, and exams have filled every corner of my mind. There is no room for anything else. Even the simple tasks of walking and eating now feel ridiculously complicated to me. Assignment upon assignment has been due in the past couple weeks which leads me to a question. How far can I push myself? Where is my limit?

It seems almost insane to me all the academic work I have done over the course of the past few days. Every spare moment was spent sitting in my room, at my desk, feverishly typing, reading or writing. And at times I like to think I'm invincible, that I can handle it all. No assignment is too hard. No paper too lengthy. But then, when it all piles up in front of me, I wonder, "Can I actually do this?"

Maybe that's a part of Prov's service to students. To push them to their limits. To make us question our own sanity. Because if we aren't pushed to the limit, if we don't ask the question "Can I really handle all this?", how will we ever discover our full potential?

Sweet Silence.

Winter, in all its terrible wrath, has come to Manitoba. Two weeks ago the ground was a dry, tundra brownish green. But, in the course of about a week, roughly two feet of snow blankets the ground. Because of the lack of trees out here in the middle of nowhere, winter is quite unpleasant most of the time. Cold, windy, icy, and painful are some of the most commonly used adjectives.

However, last night was a beautiful exception. Tiny snowflakes were gently falling to the ground. The air was still as the wind finally took a break. And the sky was fully clouded over, locking in the little bit of heat that was left on the earth. It was actually lovely to be outside.

I was walking back to dorm with a friend when he suddenly stopped. "Look." I looked out to the field where he was gesturing and it was all white, completely still, and awe inspiring. There was total silence. I took a deep breath in. Silence has never felt so good.

I fill up my life here at school with a lot of noise. I'm constantly going somewhere or doing something. I'm always listening to music or have my noise in a book. But why? Why can't I love the silence as much as I love the noise? Society and the media that I hope to work in someday does not value silence.

I want to learn what silence is and how to use it.

Unresolved.

Last night I had the lovely privilege to take in a play at the Manitoba Theater Center. Orpheus Descending by Tennessee Williams. I have to say that it was completely and totally brilliant. The stage design, the lighting, the costuming, and the acting was amazing. Though I had read some of Tennessee Williams plays, I had never read or even heard of Orpheus Descending.

The play focused a lot on the theme of death. Death seemed to be everywhere in this play. The leading lady's husband was on his death bed, her father had been murdered long ago, even the child she once carried was killed through abortion. Even though the play did show death a lot, it was not about death. It was about life. It was the raw human struggle between darkness and light. To stare at death, whether physical or emotional, and declare, "No! This is life. This will not be the end, I will not have it. I will live! I want death to hear me living as it comes for me."

What I think I loved most about the play was that it was passionate, messy, and it did not resolve. There was no happy ending. As I left the theater, descending the gray balcony steps, I didn't know how I was supposed to feel...and I loved it. I loved it because this play seemed to be a grand metaphor for my life. It's passionate, messy, and it doesn't resolve. Life doesn't have clean cut edges. Life doesn't fit into a box. And neither does my experience here at Prov. I want to have clean cut beginnings and ends. I want lessons all wrapped up in neat little packages. But that's not what this experience is like; it's messy and it doesn't resolve. That was the beauty of the play, and that is the beauty of my Providence existence.

Another's shoes.

Never say never. That is a lesson that I have been learning lately. Often, I find myself looking at people or talking with people and in my head thinking "Why would they do that?" or "If I was in that position, I would not do that." I can't even understand why people do what they do sometimes.

But then, I'm in that same position, and I find myself making the exact same decision that I criticised. It's strange. I suppose it's easy to say what I would or wouldn't do from an objective opinion.

Life is subjective.

Black Friday.

Yesterday was American Thanksgiving. The one day set aside every year to spend time to count our blessings and break bread with loved ones. It's a time of peace and quiet contemplation.

That was yesterday. Today is the day after Thanksgiving. It's Black Friday. Gone is the peace and quiet contemplation. Today is all about one thing: consumerism. Yes, that's right, sales everywhere and people lining up in front of stores before the sun has even risen. The holiday season has officially begun in the good ol' USA.

It's rather ridiculous. The holiday season is supposed to be about the "meaningful" things in life. Yet, somehow North American culture it's about wrapping, money, fancy gifts...and the "meaningful" things. I wonder how these two seem to exist so peacefully in this culture.

Perhaps consumerism and those warm fuzzy feelings can co-exist?