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?

Unread Letters. Part Two.

Thanks to a comment I recieved on my blog entry, "Unread Letters" this morning I've discovered I'm not the only one who writes letters that nobody will ever read.

On a blog titled "Post Secret", people are encouraged to create postcards with their "unread notes" and "secrets" and mail them to an address in Maryland. This guy posts them on his blog for the world to read and see. Here's a couple of examples.

Not only does this website exist, but a whole bookful of these postcards has been published. Apparently, there are lot of people out there who want to say things, but are too scared to really see them.

The Real World?

I'm writing this blog entry as I sit in one of my classes. I'll confess that I am only half listening to the professor.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this whole concept of Christian higher education. I chose a Christian college because I thought it would help me to intergrate my faith with my future. I can look around this classroom and see the limitless potential of these co-eds to do great things. Here is a college full of strong, confident, capable people and a world outside of us in need of help. But I feel like, at times, Prov is stiffling this pontential. That Prov is limiting the potential of its students.

We aren't exposed to the reality of world outside us. We live inside this tiny bubble, and we become so preoccupied with what is happening inside this little world that we forget that there is life outside of Prov. Instead of focusing on the needs of the outside world, we draw in. We see ourselves. We see our own future. We become...selfish.

At lunch last week, I was sitting with a friend who is in her final year here. She looked around the busy cafeteria and said to me, "Look at this. Look at all this potential. And look how we are spending our time. We crowd around tables and talk about exams, we flirt with the opposite sex, and we think this is the ultimate college experience. I can't wait to get out of here."

At times, I can't say I blame her. Sometimes I want to grab people by the shoulders, shake them, and say "This is not reality!" It's not, and I hate it. Even worse, I buy into this shallow lifestyle as much as anyone...and I hate myself for that.

Where is reality? And how do I get there?

Unread Letters.

I have discovered a new "hobby" of sorts. I've taken up the old fashioned practice of letter writing. Pen, paper, envelope, the whole nine yards. The only difference between my letters and the letters that other people write is that I don't want mine to be read. I won't seal the envelope. I won't ever drop them in a mailbox.

I'm writing these letter to say to people what I have always wanted to tell them, but have lacked the conviction to do so. I've found it to be very therapeutic. Finally I have the chance to spill all the thoughts that have been crowding my mind for years onto a blank sheet of paper. As I began this little project, I thought why can't I just phone these people and say, "look, I've needed to say this for a long time now." I guess the easy answer is that I'm too scared to do that. So, for now at least, a sheet of paper is the best substitute for those conversations.

Who are your envelopes addressed to?

There's the sting.

Oh, death where is thy sting?

My mind has been a bit preoccupied with death lately. Well, not exactly death, but the after affects of it. I blame my new morbid fasination on my dodging death for the second time this year. Also, this past weekend, a promient figure in my home church passed away. Even a sitcom I watched while recovering in the hospital had a main character facing death. Death seems to be everywhere right now.

We as Christians comfort ourselves with the knowlege that if the deceased "knew Jesus" they are in heaven. Cliches like "they're in a better place" or "he's resting now" or "she wouldn't want you to be sad" are almost always muttered at funerals. But does it ever really help? How do we as finite humans cope with and grope to understand something so...final as death?

The thing that gets me most about death is it's finality. There is no chance that I will see them again. No hope that we'll talk about the weather or how their holidays were. It's all gone. Death is completely unescapable.

People tell me not to dwell on such things, and I suppose they're right. But not dwelling on it doesn't seem right to me. I want to know, to understand. I just want to get it.

Humanity. There's the sting.

Two Quarts Low

I'm the type of person who enjoys a fairly quiet, normal lifestyle. Go here at this time. Do that at this time. So when something threatens to interrupt my peaceful existence I choose to ignore it, often I've found this to be a bad idea. This past week was one of those times.

I had been feeling poorly for several days and when the headache and exhaustion became completely unbearable, I went to the doctor. The kind gentleman informed me that I was severely anemic. The average hemoglobin level for a woman my age should be between 12 and 16. Mine was around a six. Uh-oh.

After further investigation, I was diagnosed with stomach ulcers and I had been apparently losing blood via these ulcers for close to two weeks. But after a bit of morphine, fluids, and four blood transfusions I am feeling much better. I now have 2 full quarts of somebody else's blood rushing through my veins.

This whole near death experience got me thinking. I so often choose to ignore my problems in hopes that they will got away. But as I discovered this week, this is probably the worst idea ever. I have made a new pact with myself: to stop ignoring my problems and hoping that they will go away, but to face them and deal with them.

Growth often gives me some most unwelcome lessons.

"Why wasn't I friends with you last year?"

This is my second year as a student at Providence College, my third semester, my eleventh month. And at times I think I have Prov, the social structure, and my friendships figured out. But something about this year that has truly suprised me is the number of rather remarkable people that I didn't know last year. There are people that I completely glossed over and never took the time to get to know. More times than I can count this semester, I have been talking to someone and thought, "Why wasn't I friends with you last year?"

This realization got me thinking about the possibility that there are so many wonderful things, whether that be friendships or experiences, that I have missed out on simply because I didn't take the time. What else am I missing out on? How is my experience at Prov not complete and how much of that is my fault? It's really hard to say. If my goal is to experience growth and to live my life to the fullest, what must I do to make that happen?