There are days where jealousy takes over my life. It doesn't help that I see most people's lives through the filter of social media. Stellar pictures, instagrams that would make anyone jealous (and a lot of times that is what they are intended to do), heart-warming life updates, exciting adventures shared through posts and blogs, etc. We are all "guilty" of this. I put "guilty" in quotation marks because I don't think it is inherently wrong or "bad" to do this. That is what social media is for, isn't it? To inform others of what our life is like at the moment. Whether we acquired an amazing job, just got into a relationship/married, are travelling, or are just enjoying this blissful life to the max. We want to share it with the world because we are social beings.
If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? If something exciting happens in our lives and no one knows about it, is it still exciting?
Unfortunately I've had to ask myself this question many times. Too often I would defend my ever-increasing presence on social media by saying that I have convictions and that these convictions need to be shared, whether anyone is listening or not. Sadly, I have come to the conclusion that hardly anyone listens. The only thing it's gotten me is a weird reputation as: the über-feminist girl with the instagrams and a blog that no one reads.
And because I crave attention even more when it isn't given to me, I observe the environment around me, see through my distorted glasses, and it always seems like other people's lives are better than mine.
I've contemplated deactivating my facebook account entirely. I mean, what a sad life are we living if we cannot stay away from it? How much have we been conditioning ourselves to depend on this form of social media for self-validation? Too much, if you ask me.
Knowing my knack for diving into extreme ideas and never following through, I almost immediately realized that I probably wouldn't be able to stay away from it completely. I am going to be limiting my time spent on it and hopefully get it through this thick skull of mine that, at least on social media, no one cares what I have to say. And even if they do, I can still make an impact on this world by interacting with people face to face. I'm pretty sure God will be able to handle the lack of social media and still put me to use.
Maybe I'll blog about what it's like to be staying away from things such as facebook soon. Maybe I won't. We'll see...
Tuesday, 9 September 2014
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
The Abundance of Reality in Fiction
I don't quite know how to describe this feeling. It is utterly personal and it seems almost invasive for anyone to see me in a state like this but I feel defenceless. Fragile. Weak even. I just finished reading the Hunger Games series with Mockingjay being the last book. Books, movies, and stories in general have an interesting way of impacting me. I suppose it's "normal" to be transported to the universe in which the story takes place. To have your mind, your emotions, and sometimes what feels like your whole body disintegrate itself and then to have it collect itself again in that alternate universe. After a while you don't even notice sensations like hunger or having to go to the bathroom. These "urges" become of secondary nature and importance. What's more important is that you don't miss a beat in the story. Your own life and its problems begins to fade away. If it's just for a moment, an hour, a day, or even a week. It's not as important as this story. Right here.
See, this could go a million different ways. Some stories impact you more than others. Some are just fleeting, which you welcomed into your life easily but also just as easily let go. Then there are those that resonate with you for much longer. No matter how much you want them to break away, it seems impossible. And it is especially disheartening when the story you just became so engrossed in, is a story of heartache and pain. Immeasurable pain. You grow to love certain characters and while you know that literally anything could happen on the next page (or sometimes even on the same page), you don't want to give into that "reality". They are good. While they may be flawed, they are good in your eyes. They deserve life and love and happiness. And then the unthinkable happens. Tragedy. And for a moment you clasp your hands over your mouth to mute the whimper wanting so desperately to escape from your lips as if you are surrounded by people who are watching your reaction. As soon as you notice that it is of no use and that there is, in fact no one intensely watching you, the tears begin to fall. And by you, I mean me. I am so easily overcome by grief. Sometimes I think it's because I am weak. Sometimes I think it's because I possess a great deal of empathy. I suppose it can be both. I don't even necessarily understand the point of why I am writing this except for trying to make sense of this myself.
Trying to make sense of why I react the way I react. Why do I grief something so fictional when I know that it isn't real? But then it hits me. In a way, some distant, distant way it is real. The horror, the pain, the anger, and the tragedy portrayed in stories only comes from our own inspiration and this is almost always drawn from reality. I don't believe that we would have a concept of pain in stories if it weren't for the fact that pain, in this world, is very, very real.
Pain, war, anger, grief, tears, sadness... all these things are far more real than moments of delusional happiness. And this is where I disagree with those who say that fiction books take you away from the real world. I would argue that the opposite is true. Never have I connected so much with the pain in our very real world today than when I connect with it in a book. It brings up anger, disappointment, and frustration at the current situations running rampant all over the place.
I always wondered why people bothered writing painful stories when there is so much pain already in this world. It would be so much easier to escape by reading about wonderful, happy stories that transport us to a paradise of some sort. But this isn't the point. The point of stories isn't so much to take us away from realty but rather to face it. And we all have a reality we would rather not face. If that's the case, I recommend you start reading.
See, this could go a million different ways. Some stories impact you more than others. Some are just fleeting, which you welcomed into your life easily but also just as easily let go. Then there are those that resonate with you for much longer. No matter how much you want them to break away, it seems impossible. And it is especially disheartening when the story you just became so engrossed in, is a story of heartache and pain. Immeasurable pain. You grow to love certain characters and while you know that literally anything could happen on the next page (or sometimes even on the same page), you don't want to give into that "reality". They are good. While they may be flawed, they are good in your eyes. They deserve life and love and happiness. And then the unthinkable happens. Tragedy. And for a moment you clasp your hands over your mouth to mute the whimper wanting so desperately to escape from your lips as if you are surrounded by people who are watching your reaction. As soon as you notice that it is of no use and that there is, in fact no one intensely watching you, the tears begin to fall. And by you, I mean me. I am so easily overcome by grief. Sometimes I think it's because I am weak. Sometimes I think it's because I possess a great deal of empathy. I suppose it can be both. I don't even necessarily understand the point of why I am writing this except for trying to make sense of this myself.
Trying to make sense of why I react the way I react. Why do I grief something so fictional when I know that it isn't real? But then it hits me. In a way, some distant, distant way it is real. The horror, the pain, the anger, and the tragedy portrayed in stories only comes from our own inspiration and this is almost always drawn from reality. I don't believe that we would have a concept of pain in stories if it weren't for the fact that pain, in this world, is very, very real.
Pain, war, anger, grief, tears, sadness... all these things are far more real than moments of delusional happiness. And this is where I disagree with those who say that fiction books take you away from the real world. I would argue that the opposite is true. Never have I connected so much with the pain in our very real world today than when I connect with it in a book. It brings up anger, disappointment, and frustration at the current situations running rampant all over the place.
I always wondered why people bothered writing painful stories when there is so much pain already in this world. It would be so much easier to escape by reading about wonderful, happy stories that transport us to a paradise of some sort. But this isn't the point. The point of stories isn't so much to take us away from realty but rather to face it. And we all have a reality we would rather not face. If that's the case, I recommend you start reading.
Tuesday, 15 July 2014
Maybe you're just a piece of lettuce.
There may be seasons in your life where you will feel like you're being tossed about like an ordinary piece of lettuce in a salad. (Yes. Please excuse my awful title and me comparing you to a piece of lettuce. It is late.) You won't know where you belong, where you'll fit in, or what you're supposed to do. Maybe you won't have to endure seasons like that. I was really tempted to write that I hope, for your sake, you won't. But the more I think about it, the more I really hope you'll experience these seasons.
It is hard living in a way where you feel like you don't belong. I've definitely had my fair shares of experiences in this matter. Nothing in my life has been permanent except for a few friendships and most importantly: God's ever-present grace.
Today I was unfortunately let go from my job. It doesn't matter why or how. You know what matters? My reaction to it. After leaving I was visibly upset and as soon as I started my drive home I started ranting in my head. "Ugh. Seriously? When can I finally settle down? Is this just not going to happen for me? God, seriously: I have no place to call my permanent home, I have no boyfriend, and as it turns out, I have no job either. I have NOTHING. NADA." I was clearly frustrated and felt justified in my complaining. Out of nowhere though I hear the following words: "Are you serious right now? You have ME! You have your God. You have my GRACE."
OUCH. I just complained about having nothing when, in fact, I had everything. Homes, boyfriends/girlfriends/husbands/wives, jobs, etc. are not an accurate indicator of how much you have in this life. They are not an indication of a successful life. When am I going to get this through my thick skull? I keep thinking that in order to have a successful life I need to be settled down with a fixed income, and someone to share every day life with. But what if that's just not an option for me? What if my life will revolve around the basic premise of not being able to settle at all? Maybe that's my case, maybe it isn't. Again, that is not of importance. The only thing that matters is that I know for a fact who my life revolves around.
And He has never let me down or broken my trust.
It is hard living in a way where you feel like you don't belong. I've definitely had my fair shares of experiences in this matter. Nothing in my life has been permanent except for a few friendships and most importantly: God's ever-present grace.
Today I was unfortunately let go from my job. It doesn't matter why or how. You know what matters? My reaction to it. After leaving I was visibly upset and as soon as I started my drive home I started ranting in my head. "Ugh. Seriously? When can I finally settle down? Is this just not going to happen for me? God, seriously: I have no place to call my permanent home, I have no boyfriend, and as it turns out, I have no job either. I have NOTHING. NADA." I was clearly frustrated and felt justified in my complaining. Out of nowhere though I hear the following words: "Are you serious right now? You have ME! You have your God. You have my GRACE."
OUCH. I just complained about having nothing when, in fact, I had everything. Homes, boyfriends/girlfriends/husbands/wives, jobs, etc. are not an accurate indicator of how much you have in this life. They are not an indication of a successful life. When am I going to get this through my thick skull? I keep thinking that in order to have a successful life I need to be settled down with a fixed income, and someone to share every day life with. But what if that's just not an option for me? What if my life will revolve around the basic premise of not being able to settle at all? Maybe that's my case, maybe it isn't. Again, that is not of importance. The only thing that matters is that I know for a fact who my life revolves around.
And He has never let me down or broken my trust.
Monday, 23 June 2014
Christian Objectification
You notice her clothes. The way that her dress seems a bit too tight. The way that her legs are exposed and maybe you even see a little bit of cleavage. What's your first instinct?
Wow... no self respect, huh?
Christians often do the same. This goes out to all the girls and boys. And may I put the emphasis on girls and boys instead of using women and men because frankly no one who behaves this way deserves to be referred to as a mature adult.
You all know that women are increasingly objectified in our time and culture. It's bad enough that this happens in the secular world but I have noticed a behaviour that I would like to name "Christian Objectification" meaning that when we see women who don't dress according to our modesty standards, we may not get the hots for them but we judge them. And guess what. This is still objectification because in that moment, all we see is a body; an object. We don't see the woman herself. We don't see her life, what she is going through, or whether she is a Christian or not. All we notice in that moment is her outside appearance. Do you understand that we are completely aware of you doing this? And here's the shocker: it doesn't make us feel any less dirty than when we are being groped or catcalled by some stranger. It makes us feel like we are still just another body to be judged and not like we are a soul deemed worth loving.
I'm tired of this becoming a new "church trend". We go in under the pretence that we're just doing our Christian duty of upholding each other in our walk with Christ when in reality, more often than not, we are not concerned with the person's soul at that moment but rather with how they offended us by dressing that way. I'd lie if I said I never subjected anyone to this, but that is exactly why I am so aware of this happening all over the place.
Can we all just agree that we're not doing anyone any favours by acting and thinking this way? Don't fool yourself. You're not helping anyone out. You're not concerned for anyone. You're only thinking about yourself.
The next time you look at any girl or woman don't, I repeat, don't objectify her by making quick judgements about her appearance, whether she shares your beliefs or not. Should she pull her dress down a bit? Should she cover up more? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it's none of your business. Maybe you should still treat her with love and respect.
I don't know. Maybe.
PS: Here is a great piece I read from someone:
"In 1 Timothy 2:9-10, the apostle Paul writes "I also wan the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God." The Greek word translated "modesty" here is kosmios. Derived from kosmos (the universe), it signifies orderliness, self-control and appropriateness. It appears only twice in the New Testament, and interestingly, its second usage refers specifically to men (1 Timothy 3:2). In fact, nearly all of the Bible's instructions regarding modest clothing refer not to sexuality, but rather materialism (Isaiah 3:16-23, 1 Timothy 2:9-12, 1 Peter 3:3). Writers in both the Old Testament and New Testament express grave concern when the people of God flaunt their wealth by buying expensive clothes and jewelry while many of their neighbours suffered in poverty. (Ironically, I've heard dozens of sermons about keeping my legs and my cleavage out of sight, but not one about ensuring my jewelry was not acquired through unjust or exploitative trade practices -- which would be much more in keeping with biblical teachings on modesty.)
And so biblical modesty isn't about managing the sexual impulses of other people; it's about cultivating humility, propriety and deference within ourselves."
Wow... no self respect, huh?
Christians often do the same. This goes out to all the girls and boys. And may I put the emphasis on girls and boys instead of using women and men because frankly no one who behaves this way deserves to be referred to as a mature adult.
You all know that women are increasingly objectified in our time and culture. It's bad enough that this happens in the secular world but I have noticed a behaviour that I would like to name "Christian Objectification" meaning that when we see women who don't dress according to our modesty standards, we may not get the hots for them but we judge them. And guess what. This is still objectification because in that moment, all we see is a body; an object. We don't see the woman herself. We don't see her life, what she is going through, or whether she is a Christian or not. All we notice in that moment is her outside appearance. Do you understand that we are completely aware of you doing this? And here's the shocker: it doesn't make us feel any less dirty than when we are being groped or catcalled by some stranger. It makes us feel like we are still just another body to be judged and not like we are a soul deemed worth loving.
I'm tired of this becoming a new "church trend". We go in under the pretence that we're just doing our Christian duty of upholding each other in our walk with Christ when in reality, more often than not, we are not concerned with the person's soul at that moment but rather with how they offended us by dressing that way. I'd lie if I said I never subjected anyone to this, but that is exactly why I am so aware of this happening all over the place.
Can we all just agree that we're not doing anyone any favours by acting and thinking this way? Don't fool yourself. You're not helping anyone out. You're not concerned for anyone. You're only thinking about yourself.
The next time you look at any girl or woman don't, I repeat, don't objectify her by making quick judgements about her appearance, whether she shares your beliefs or not. Should she pull her dress down a bit? Should she cover up more? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it's none of your business. Maybe you should still treat her with love and respect.
I don't know. Maybe.
PS: Here is a great piece I read from someone:
"In 1 Timothy 2:9-10, the apostle Paul writes "I also wan the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God." The Greek word translated "modesty" here is kosmios. Derived from kosmos (the universe), it signifies orderliness, self-control and appropriateness. It appears only twice in the New Testament, and interestingly, its second usage refers specifically to men (1 Timothy 3:2). In fact, nearly all of the Bible's instructions regarding modest clothing refer not to sexuality, but rather materialism (Isaiah 3:16-23, 1 Timothy 2:9-12, 1 Peter 3:3). Writers in both the Old Testament and New Testament express grave concern when the people of God flaunt their wealth by buying expensive clothes and jewelry while many of their neighbours suffered in poverty. (Ironically, I've heard dozens of sermons about keeping my legs and my cleavage out of sight, but not one about ensuring my jewelry was not acquired through unjust or exploitative trade practices -- which would be much more in keeping with biblical teachings on modesty.)
And so biblical modesty isn't about managing the sexual impulses of other people; it's about cultivating humility, propriety and deference within ourselves."
Tuesday, 3 June 2014
With Every Heartbeat I Have Left I Will Defend Your Every Breath
Many of my tears have seen the light of day. Unfortunately, most of them made their dreaded way down my cheeks because something awful happened. I cry a lot but it's nothing to apologize for.
You are strong and yet so fragile. We all are. That's how life is. Resilient and here today yet gone tomorrow. Just like a whisper in the wind. That's why we need to make every one of our heartbeats count, don't you think? Why waste our lives trying to deny ourselves emotions and outlets that can help us grow? We live in a culture that thrives off of hating things and putting down those who show appreciation and excitement for things. Everyone should be allowed to positively be overwhelmed by the things life has to offer. While we need to be careful not to let emotions dictate our decisions, I think it's also safe to say that emotions need to be felt and truly experienced.
I'm not sure if there is an English equivalent for this idiom but in German we say: "Ich bin nah am Wasser gebaut.", which translates to: "I was built close to the water." meaning that the tears just come easier for me. Growing up I saw it as a weakness, often having been told that it was. I connected it to being over-emotional, exaggerating most situations, and not being in control over myself.
Since then, however I have recognized it as my ever-present tenderness in life. So what if I cry easily? Does that mean that my emotions mean any less? In our culture we tend to glorify stoicism. We want men who are the "big, strong, silent type" and women who should be "more in control of themselves" lest we are thought of as being hysterical.
Truth is that tears are a sign of our humanity. They serve various purposes and it fascinates me how they can actually differ from each other. They can express emotions such as sadness, joy, frustration, and confusion. They also serve a reflex function, which usually happens when you encounter irritating gasses, chop onions, or get hit in the face. What is truly interesting, however is the fact that the tears that are released because of reflexes consist mostly of water while emotional tears flush out all kinds of toxins. It literally means that your body is taking the bad that's on the inside and forces it out. Crazy benefit, huh?
Every once in a while I'll reflect on my life in one of those rare, quiet moments we get and become emotional. Thinking back on how terrifying my life was last summer and looking forward to how this summer is looking I can see how God is truly at work. This is one of those instances where tears of joy are invading the spaces under my eyes. Gratefulness can be overwhelming and tear-inducing and I am so glad that it does. I enjoy all the little things that we are able to do to express emotions, whether those are tears, hand gestures, body language, or words. Just think of how amazing it is that you are alive right now. It sounds so cliche but put your hand over your chest right now. Feel that heartbeat. Really feel it. Can you feel it beating? Now let that settle in. Feel the tenderness that's been imprinted on your heart.
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