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For a number of days now, i’ve been (somewhat anxiously) watching a certain section of my garden, the area that was seeded instead of filled up with bedding plants. Waiting, looking, even poking around to see if a tiny green sprout exists, hiding under the dirt. i’ve figured that the crops that i’ve seeded – carrots, beets, beans, and peas – are hardy enough to live into the fall, but with such a short, unpredictable growing season, every day counts.
So, it was a joyful experience to finally see a section of wee tiny little red sprouts filling out the beginnings of what will be a row of beets. i felt all puffed up with pride over these baby plants that finally took their first move towards eating up sunlight.
Encouraged by this development, i took the bold move of shoving a spade in the ground to investigate what on earth was going on with my delinquent bean and pea seeds. The verdict: wee worms eating up the tender beans. Arrggh. i eventually found two little beans that were managing to sprout, and got them nicely packed away in their dirt homes again, vowing to start sprouting some beans and peas in a more sterile environment like a nalgene bottle this week at work. Maybe that will get them the head start they need.
As i finished my snooping around underground and returned to the much more routine task of watering, i thought about what it would be like if it were only that easy to unpack some of the problems that i see the kids at work struggling with. So many times, we staff all know that there is a ton of stuff going on under the surface that is keeping a client from moving forward in a positive way. Most of the kids we see have pain and problems that run so deep, they often don’t even know themselves how to dig them up or what’s happening in the deep soil of their own life. It’s hard to watch from a removed vantage point and be unable to poke and prod and dig around, to be able to only water what is good, fertilize the positive choices made, weed a little negative behaviour out of the picture, and wait patiently, creating an environment where a sensitive issue can finally sprout up and be identified. Then sometimes, there are the lives that, beyond any caring we offer, are eaten up by the worms of negativity, pain, burdens that we never truly see, except to know that while in our care, no good living thing sprouted up because of those things unseen.
It’s been one of the hardest things that i’ve ever learned to deal with when working with people – the times when there is no growth to be seen, no living, no joy. It’s hard to step back and to know that it’s not reflective of my level of caring or my skill set. Perhaps it’s just not the right environment sometimes, perhaps there was knowledge that i don’t have, or factors beyond my control have truly overtaken my ability to help. Most of the time i’ll never really know.
Then again, from the same vantage point, it is a humbling knowledge that the only thing i can help do to bring life to the surface is to be the waterer, someone who tends to making the environment a safe and welcoming place for a sprout of goodness to surface. i didn’t make those beet sprouts grow, and i don’t make the positive (and often difficult) choices for the youth i care for, but i can live and act in such a way that it’s more likely to happen, and i thank God for that.
i’ve been thinking a lot lately about influence and choices, about how to impact the communities that i live in and around in ways that encourage joyful, fulfilling life. It’s so easy to forget this calling towards a generous and loving life sometimes, so easy to just think of myself and what would make my life easier. Like missing a morning watering just to sleep in another hour or so, it’s so easy just to escape a difficult conversation or follow a lengthy protocol at work, to leave a questions about accountability or about a friend’s dreams about life for banal chatter about the day. It’s not the sleeping in or the simple chats that are the problem, but left on their own, it’s hard to create an environment where something good and meaningful grows. It takes the same kind of commitment as early-morning garden watering to nurture life of any sort, and i’m slowly learning to take these lessons from my garden into the rest of my life. So from beet sprouts to deeper friendships and more meaningful work, i’m trying to keep the reminders from my garden close to heart.
Friends and food. Really, does it get much better than that? Okay, i know that wine, whisky (or other libation of choice), and hookah (or other romantic smoke of choice) are all factors in making things *even better*, but that’s beside the point. For the last few years, Thanksgiving has become more of a friends event for me than a family one, and this year didn’t disappoint.
About 18 people or so gathered into my friend’s place on Sunday afternoon, just as i was finishing carving up the turkey and the gravy was being strained through a cheese grater (5 adults under one roof and there’s no sieve? My inner domestic-diva does not understand this). Food kept arriving, in boxes, wrapped in towels, in bags.. ..people stood around, chatting, laughing, smiling, and just before we officially commenced the meal, it became comically obvious that the entire group of 20-somethings had split themselves by gender to opposite sides of the room. Not since my last Mennonite family reunion have i seen that. At any rate, i thought it was funny.
Well, we thanked, and blessed, and then, we feasted.
The happy buzz of chatter settled into a low hum, punctuated by the sounds of forks against plates, the clinks of glasses being set on the floor, as there were far too many people to even think of sitting at a table. At one point, someone made a speech or a toast or something to that effect.
i’ve heard a lot of people say that it takes a year to settle into a community, to develop friends and start feeling at home in a new place. i don’t know why that is, but it seems to be holding true for me at this point. Rounding the corner of 13 months in Calgary, i finally feel like i’m coming home when i drive out of the mountains and head east, not west. i looked through my cell phonebook the other day and realized that there are more Alberta numbers than BC. And, sitting in Abbotsford today, i had a moment of shocked realization that i actually wished i stayed a few more days in Cowtown before visiting my family this weekend. Then i shook my head rather vigorously and realized that such a ridiculous thought could only have occurred because i hadn’t had my morning cup of coffee yet (thusly restoring whatever powers of reason i have from the foggy depths of my morning brain).
Still, this year i’m thankful for the people that i’m getting together with. i’m thankful for a funky, cool church, Sunday nights at the pub, late night conversations, evenings spent driving from place to place in search of something to do and laughing at every foiled plan, Sunday mornings at the coffeeshop with newspapers and passionate debates, improvising kitchen equipment together, and generally just having people around.
In other news, and going along with this trend of being around more people, i’m moving in with a roommate for the first time in my life. Yes, you heard it. Unless you count communal living in a post-soviet dormitory for 4 months, i’ve never had to share my own space. And really, given the stereotypically strong personalities of my Eastern European roommates in Lithuania, i never really considered anything there to be ‘my space’.
And so, it is with a little bit of fear and trepidation that i’m venturing into looking at the Calgary rental market through a new perspective, that of the terms “house” or “3-bdrm” or other such formerly extravagant prospects. All this because the building i live in was recently sold, and the new owners are planning to evict the 4 of us tenants to scrap our apartments and put in offices. …like Calgary needs more offices, argh.
But i’m keeping hopeful! My neighbour and i have been talking about our options for a while now, and we both seem to keep coming up to the idea of moving in together. It makes sense in a lot of different ways, so i’m going a leap of faith on this one, crossing my fingers that i don’t turn out to be a selfish control freak when it comes to living space! So if you have good advice, words of wisdom, anything on the subject of being a good roommate, share it here!
New journal, new space, new canvas: i love you. i hate you.
i love your clean, pure potential, the soft blankness.
i hate your expectations, your knowledge that greatness could occur here, if only i wasn’t going to put down some chicken-scratch drivel.
And so, what i really want to say will wait a few pages. It’ll wait for some old news to catch an eye, wait for the opportunity for first impressions to pass slightly less noticed. Wait to feel out the old, familiar frameworks and settle into making marks again.
It’s been a while, after all. And, well, no news is good news
…right?
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[a post i like to remind myself of from time to time]
-From September 21 2005:
Two things that make me sad:
1. not being able to make what i am thinking make sense when i say it
2. friends who pretend to be friends with people they really don’t care about, or don’t care to care about them in such a way that at least prevents them from idly cutting them down.
On that note, i so wish that i could have make a coherent statement in Sr. Studio today about my thoughts on conformity and the concept of a counter-culture. i got so lost in trying to define my idea of how simply natural it is to conform to some level, that i forgot my main point that it is not the ACT of conformity that matters, but the choice of WHAT we conform to and WHY. There are billions of people on earth; at some level we need to conform in order to avoid complete chaos. Yet we have, especially as Christians, an obligation to choose wisely what we conform to, and why. Though our faith intrinsically involves a certain level of counter-cultural belief (“..be in this world, but not of it”..)Christ called us to take up our crosses and follow. What that looks like may then take many forms, according to our attitudes and motives. (St.Paul?) brought up the very relativist stance that for those whom it was ok to eat meat sacrificed to idols, it was ok, but for those whom this act caused stumbling, it was not ok……but to respect the choices of the believers around you as all being chosen to bring glory to God. What better way to remember to be humble in the way we advertise our lifestyles and preferences.
However, it is difficult to live in any such way that does not communicate those preferences at all. Indeed, if one was to actively conceal those things, that individual would then be criticized for being “non-authentic”: the ultimate post-modern crime. Yet the danger of advertising our choices in life means the development of pride, haughtiness, cultural elitism.
What then does this mean for those who chooses to live in such a way that often gets slammed as “trendy” or “counter-cultural (but such a see-through-sham)” or even the oh-so-maligned “evangelical” or “suburban”? Oh horror of horrors to actually be considered mainstream! (…and OH, how i do struggle with criticizing the ‘mainstream’) As a Christian, i think the solution involves a dual responsibility: that of the individual to actually think through the logic of their choices, having a coherent defense that involves a God-glorifying rational, as well as that of the surrounding community to receive individuals with cortesia – courtesy and hospitality – giving respect to the Other by listening before entering into a dialogue of discovery and mutual search for Truth. At that point, the individual’s act of conformity becomes a non-problematic issue; it no longer becomes a matter of conforming to the ’system’ or to a ‘counter-cultural trend’, but rather a starting point for an exploration of faith and reason.
So yeah. That’s what i wished i could have said in class. In other words, there’s gotta be love.
….and yeah. that would solve problem #2 that makes me sad.
…so now i’m off to go change the world. in my dreams. cuz i need to get up early for work tomorrow.
