Fine Lines

It's easy to picture life as a balancing act on a tightrope.  Just you, two buildings, a long rope, and dizzying heights.  I've always been partial to this analogy.  There is a thrill in trying to balance, a sense of accomplishment when you manage to stay upright, and worse comes to worst, falling can be rather fun too--once you get over the initial shock of your life falling apart.  And you can always pick yourself up and try again.

As comforting (or scary) as that mental image might be, I think it might be oversimplifying things a bit.  Life isn't just one tightrope, it is an intricate web of fine lines. 

There is a fine line between contentment and apathy. 

Between confidence and arrogance.

Insecurity and pride.
Self-awareness and self-obsession.
Optimism and misplaced hope.
Kindness and manipulation.
Patience and cowardice.
Self-protection and selfishness.
Trust and naivety.
Discernment and judgment.

There are so many fine lines weaving in and out of each other.  In a way, they make it easier to stay balanced, when you have a web of ropes to walk on instead of just one.  Yet it feels impossible to maintain a healthy balance in one area of life without crossing a line in another.

I have no resolution to this post, because I don't know how to walk on one tightrope, let along a couple dozen.   You see, there is also a fine line between thinking to understand life and thinking to avoid life.  I may not be able to get far without falling, but I'd rather fall than get tangled in the web. 

Mesmerizing Mirages

The expanse of Lake Michigan fills my landscape.  Yet my eyes are focused only on one golden spot where the setting sun has imprinted itself on the lake.  It looks perfect and I have to resist the temptation to run down the 265 steps to the beach, hijack a kayak, and paddle to it.

Something more than the 265 steps deters me though.  There is no way to reach the mesmerizing glimmers.  By the time I get there, the sun will have set and the dancing lights will have disappeared.  In the meantime, I will have missed the sunset.

It's hard not to remember all the sunsets I've missed in my life, chasing after an elusive golden patch of light.

There are goals that I was never meant to reach, a person I was never supposed to be.  So many mirages that I bet my life on being true only to find them not only unreachable, but non-existent.  I've exhausted myself over and over again in this impossible pursuit.

So, for at least today, I will rest and watch the sunsets in life.  It is impossible to capture it's magnificence in words so here I will end and allow you to find your sunsets as well.

Heavy Backpacks

My backpack got progressively heavier and heavier throughout the school year.  I'm sure it had nothing to do with my tendency to accumulate unseemly amounts of flashcards.  Every night/early morning when I'd get back to my dorm I had the opportunity to experience one of the best feelings of relief: taking off the 40 pound weight that I had trudged along with me up and down the stairs to my classes, meals, and dorm.  No matter how many ribbons I put on it, that backpack was the bane of my college existence.

Yet I couldn't go anywhere without it.  Without my backpack, I lost my immediate access to study materials and homework.  Without this access, I could potentially be in a situation where I was not being productive.  Without productivity, I felt purposeless.  Tasks and to-do lists gave me the feeling of meaning that, while ultimately hollow, kept me motivated to keep moving and learning and making more to-do lists.

The problem of the heavy backpack lies in me grasping tightly onto an identity that was built on empty definitions of accomplishment.  I don't carry around a backpack during the summer, yet I still have multiple cross-referencing task lists to perpetuate this unfounded identity. 

The paradox of the heavy backpack is that the thing that I couldn't let go of  was the very thing that was dragging me down.  A never-satisfied need to be productive is what could make and destroy me simultaneously.

Sometimes other people's backpacks aren't as easily seen as mine.  Maybe they aren't tangible at all.  I think it would be safe to suppose that almost everyone carries their own burdens that they both need and despise.

Let's try lightening the load a bit.

#1 Fan

I think people become fans of sports teams because we need something to identify with other than ourselves.  We want our moods and happiness and excitement to be based off of something beyond our own circumstances.  We can't make life what we want it to be  so we blame our TV shows, sports teams, and friends. 

It's far easier to put the responsibility on something we have no control over than ourselves.  We can't change things around us, but we can change ourselves and that takes courage.

The Uncertainty of Adventures

There is so much I'd like to say to myself.  Things that I've known forever, thought about forever, and written down a thousand times.  Repetition is my friend.

I have a tendancy to look at life like this:

Life is a constant exchange, a continous change of location and people but with one common theme of stress.  There will always be a crisis to fixed and struggles to overcome.  I will always be failing in some or every area of life and I will always be trying to pick myself up and come up with a new strategy on how to fail a little less next time.  This semester has been wonderful in many ways but rather stressful in almost every way.  The train of thought I was on would take me to the next stop of summer and see it as just a switch into more stressful circumstances.  Just different relationships to balance and new situations where I'd be over my head and incapable of doing what was expected of me.  All of a sudden, its next semester where I'm no longer a freshmen and I'm responsible for other people and need to grow up in 15 weeks and learn how to micro-manage my time and I wake up one morning to realize that I'm stuck in the adult world forever. 

Today, I choose to look at life like this:

Life is a constant exchange, a continous change of footing and placement but I'm not being asked to jump to the top of the mountain.  I'm asked to get through this weekend of finals.  I'm asked to take a few more steps in becoming a better friend and student.  This summer will make me a little less woefully unprepared for the next semester and each day, week, and month will prepare me a little more for the next one.  All of a sudden, each little new stress is really a new opporutnity to grow and be a little more ready for the next challenge.  

 I could say that life is always full of stress and I just need to learn how to best deal with that reality and that would be true (and Fitwell would agree with me).

But I’d rather say that life is always full of opporutnities and adventures and new things and the small things I am doing now will mean that I will be able to better fully experience those opportunities in the future. 

I could find something wrong with life if I wanted to, but I'd rather say that there is nothing wrong with being irrationally happy.

Strangers' Smiles and Sunday Sweaters

I am consistently astounded by the friendliness of people I don't know.  Today, I have pinpointed why a smile from a stranger can make my day when nothing else can. 

That person I passed on the sidewalk had no obligation to smile when they saw me.  I wasn't making awkward eye contact, I didn't initiate the smile, and they didn't feel a need to greet me because I'm their lab partner's sister's roommate's neighbor.  We were strangers until the smile.

I am consistently delighted by Sundays.  Some of my friends have dedicated themselves to doing no work on Sundays in honor of the Lord's day, and I respect them very much for it.  For me, Sunday is a wonderful day to not have the pressure of five meetings in the afternoon and two exams and one quiz during the day.  It is a wonderful day to start with church and allow myself to be by myself or with others or spend a few minutes doing nothing or getting work done so I can thrive and not just survive during the next week.  Rest is highly underrated.  I always insist on wearing a sweater on Sundays.

Sweaters mean comfort and peace and contentment.  Sundays are a good reminder of what every day should contain.

The Difference of 20 Degrees

There are some words that I consistently get mixed up.  Depends and matters.  Affect and effect. (does anyone get that one right?) 11 o'clock and 1'oclock. (I might alone on this one...)
Thermostat and thermometer. 

It's not that I don't know that there is a difference between a thermostat and a thermometer, I just can't remember which one is which at a moment's notice.  The difference is huge though.  One sets the temperature to what you want it to be, the other just records things "as is".  The same goes for joy and happiness.

Joy is not conditional on the test you just received, if someone looked at you funny, or if the weather is nice outside.  Happiness can be a conditional emotion.  It's too variable and easily affected to be depended on for any type of self-evaluation.

Joy is a conscious decision.  It goes hand in hand in contentment but steps up the game a bit. 

Joy is rejoicing in the things that don't change (i.e. God's love for us, salvation, undeserved grace,etc...)

 Joy is built on a peace that is derived from God, not simply an absence of troubles or drama. 

Joy is a gift and a goal.  It is not earned.  You don't have to buy 32 boxes of cereal and mail in box tops to receive it.  It also isn't going to be parachuted from a magical Joy Jet and land in your lap.  It must be pursued and sought after and protected, because joy is easily stolen.

It can be a daily struggle to be consistent in joy.  It's far easier to keep checking the thermometer because there is nothing you can do about the weather.  Choosing joy takes intentionality and effort. 

For me, consistency is more of a curse than a struggle.  There is always a large part of me that stays the same no matter what is going on around me.  This works greatly for me in my favor as it tends to neutralize the possibility for anger or disappointment or frustration or stress.  Yet being consistently apathetic is like setting your thermostat to 60 degrees and never changing it.  There is no value in that, unless you like wearing three sweaters at the same time all the time.

Today could have been a lukewarm day.  There was no reason for it to be a bad day, however.  Mediocre didn't seem like a favorable option either.  Sticking with a good day felt like settling since I am alive today and have a God that loves me and am surrounded by so much beauty.  Today, I have decided to set my thermostat to 80 degrees and leave it there.

If I can be consistently unconcerned, than I may as well be consistently joyful.