Skipping to Goal #3: Consider the balance and the difference between settling vs. contentment



I am still fluctuating here between contentement and angst, sometimes able to be content with my day to day and sometimes erratically convinced that we're completely off track - currently living a life not consistent with how I imagine our future. A lot of that is based on the plan to work slightly over capacity now so that we don't have to plod through the system until retirement age, but is it disconcerting that we could be creating patterns that perpetuate into our future.

How it tends to manifest is bouts of general angst and heightened emotions resulting in an attempt to channel it positively and creating some small changes in my life to help me feel in control and address a small portion of the issue. This weekend ended in clearing out what looked like maybe a third of my wardrobe because I have way to much stuff. (I'm thinking online garage sale possibly?)

I've always found contentment to come really naturally for me, so it's strange to be at odds with how the practical choices we're making and the routine that follows impact my internal life. 
Last night, Tory and I were talking and he mentioned that it's hard to maintain that ability to be content and find happiness whatever your circumstances. "I feel like i'm losing it," I murmured. After a long pause, I realized he was trying to come to terms with the fact that his wife thinks she is losing it. No, no, I added, "I feel like I'm loosing that ability, not IT, not my mind!"

I'm quite sure I can pinpoint for myself that lack of flexibility has turned out to be the main contributor to my spiking emotional life. My main concern is that i'm losing my ability for contentedness (or 'practicing peace' as Reb put it recently) that used to come so naturally and feel integral to me while I had control over the flexibility of my schedule.

So the big question is then, do I feel discontent and therefore need to work harder to practice peace, or am I experiencing a genuine disconnect between who I am and the situation I am in which needs to be addressed and changed? Is this a case of Settling (for something less than God may have planned for us) vs. Contentment (in which case I should carry on in this time of structured life and seek contentment internally)?

For now, I find solace in my and Tory's shared experiences, abundant blessings, potential life planning and dreams, and Joni Mitchell.

I felt a little gift over the fourth of July weekend (one little extra blessing among many if I really think about it).

In my initial reflection about slowing down, I said I wanted to find a beach and take a swim and see the Northern Lights from my childhood.

We were invited up to Dave and Danielle's family's cabin for the 4th and had some great adventures, but incredibly, the first night we arrived we went for a swim and there was the faintest glimpse of the Northern Lights in the night sky. It was faintly similar to the memory I have of when I was about fifteen and up in Northern Ontario with my family - I went for a swim one night when they were blazing green over top of me - it was calm and beautiful. The world slowed down.

The Huffington Post has a recent article about slowing down time perception, and talks about the reasons behind what we all feel - as a kid you think time takes forever, and as an adult you feel like it can't slow down.

"The more detailed the memory, the longer the moment seems to last." The remedy is a combination of mindfulness and introducing yourself to new experiences, both of which I think are valuable. Mindfulness, thankfulness, new inputs. 

Okay! 
I took a small step towards goal number 1 this week.
"Find ways to authentically express my faith and love for people (social media being not the place)"

In the summers at Solomon's Porch we do Soapbox sermons where anyone from the community can sign up to do a 10 or 20 minute talk on anything at all that they want to share. I did not sign up this spring due to the public-speaking-for-10-to-20-minutes aspect but on Sunday I found myself sitting back on one of the couches while Doug opened the floor for pop up soapbox sermons for under two minutes. Three realizations came to mind: 

1. I can handle two minutes! 
2. I had my notebook with me.
3. I looked around and saw only friendly and familiar faces.
So in the wise words of my wonderful friend Sunny I thought, "Yeah sure why not?"
So I stood up in the center - the same place Tory and I stood and took our vows surrounded by friends and family - and shared a few thoughts and a part of the Bible that struck me as helpful to my faith journey.



It is not an easy thing for me to share my thoughts on faith and religion - I have made peace within myself that there are basic truths that I am confident in but that the majority of my faith perspective is based on not-knowing, on ever-learning, growing and shifting. Because I know that many Christian persuasions do not share this perspective, or even consider it Christian, I have an internal confidence but I am a pretty insecure person of faith within discussion. This is partly because I am known to be a slow, deep thinker (it takes me days to process ideas), so I generally feel crushed by debate. Leading to a very relevant personal goal #1. This is the larger context of what I shared on Sunday.


"Woe to him who builds his palace by unrighteousness, his upper rooms by injustice, making his countrymen work for nothing, not paying them for their labor.  He says, 'I will build myself a great palace with spacious upper rooms.' So he makes large windows in it, panels it with cedar and decorates it in red. "Does it make you a king to have more and more cedar? Did not your father have food and drink? He did what was right and just, so all went well with him. He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is that not what it means to know me?" declares the LORD. 

Is that not what it means to know me.

I have always felt most faith-filled when I am interacting with people who have less than me. Less resources, less political clout, less inherent privilege. When I have authentic interactions with people who are traditionally considered poor, I'm reminded how much I have to learn and of the beauty of human connection. 

I'm reminded of beauty when our 3 year old neighbor throws away his candy wrapper in our trash instead of the ground and when my husband says he's proud of the little buddy, he looks up with huge eyes, and says, "you're proud of me?"
I experienced beauty when I was completely unprepared for a two week hiking expedition in the Thai Hilltribes. By the fourth straight day spend hiking in the mountains from village to village, my new host mother welcomed me in smiling, and spent her time rubbing my swollen knee and sore muscles with relaxing salve. She spoke to me through her love because I was hurting and I didn't speak her language.

I hope to use the privileges I've been offered in life to connect with people who haven't been given the same. The verse has two meanings to me:
Is that not what it means to know me - When we are working for the good of others we are experiencing God working through our hands and hearts. 

Is that not what it means to know me - Literally, knowing God through the people he has created. Accepting love from others and looking into the eyes of Jesus. 

I have always maintained that I should only blog if I have something valuable to explore through it that is relevant to share with others. The first time I felt this was when I was preparing to move to the other side of the world for my last semester of college. I wrote about what 'home' means, impermanence, new experiences and what it was like to be constantly learning.

The next time I felt compelled to share was when I'd moved back to Minneapolis and bought a home with Tory on the Northside of Minneapolis. And so began an exploration and engagement with a new and vibrant community, not excluding the loyal neighbor/drug dealer across the street, our buddies "the kids", and our friend Chef.

Then the tornado came, and the kids and Chef were forced to move when their home was ruined. A new family moved into the restored house and we came to love "the kids #2" as well. About a month ago, they found a new place a few miles away.

Our street very is quiet.

This point in life feels similar - we've transitioned from the ever-changing impermanence of college time to a lull of routine - work, meals, activities, paying down debt. Tory and I spend enjoyable hours together in the evenings and try to get to bed at a decent hour to start the day again. Yup, sometimes we just want to relax and watch Netflix. These are good things. Basic needs - nourishment, sleep, purpose, downtime.

This doesn't make for interesting writing - what I think is relevant to share is my inner life. At least, I feel the need to talk it out.

I am blessed to have all of my needs met, and comfortably, particularly apparent in a time where so many people don't have the security we do. And I'd like to be clear that this is a #firstworldproblem that I am about to delve into.

This is how it feels.

I am taking a brisk walk down a pretty city street holding hands with my husband and overall I'm really content. It's nice out. I'm walking and most days there are a few birds chirping and I notice them briefly as we breeze by.
But once in a while, I notice how fast I'm walking and I start to panic. I feel like I should stop and breathe the world in for a while, and offer something back. Instead, I keep walking and I dabble with a few opportunities that are accessible to me along the side of the road - like passing a street performer and tapping out a brief melody of my own as fast as I can before we've passed. I want to go back and make it beautiful. I want to squeeze my husband's hand tight and pull him down an interesting side street, get lost together. Find a beach and take a swim and see the Northern Lights from my childhood. I want to stop and reflect on the beauty of it all. 

I believe this is a documented phenomena known as Wanderlust. It's partly that, and partly a fear that at the end of the hurriedness of this phase of life, the next phase is waiting, busier than the last. It has potential to be true if we leave it to be - so I feel an intense urgency to find a way to opt out of the rat race before we're too embedded in the patterns. (Big fears: consumerism as the norm, allowing a new normal to define us, to let circumstance determine our path in life rather than our deeper purpose, to have little time in life for reflection and peace.)

I feel an urgency to explore and share ideas that center around these goals:

1. Find ways to authentically express my faith and love for people (social media being not the place)
2. Ensure that college was not 'the best years of my life" - perhaps the most unbridled - but not the best.
3. Consider the balance and the difference between settling vs. contentment
4. Attempt to discover where it is I/we are being led to go/do in our lives

 Tory and I were able to spend some time in Chicago this weekend.  We're pretty committed to maximizing the possibilities of every trip and planned to be in town for Travis and Chelsey's wedding, which was a fabulous party smack in the middle of a great weekend.


Vacation=couchsurfing
Vacation=eating at new places
Vacation=creating adventures


We stayed with a fantastic couchsurfing host who gave us some great insight into neighborhood restaurants and bars and tips on how to get around.  We had a great time just exploring neighborhoods and covered a lot of ground in an attempt to track down one book from a particularly evasive bookstore.  We did a lot of walking, which I miss imensely.

Here is my documented inspiration:

The sun is setting right now on a particularly humid day and the sky looks like it does in these photos.  Everything is yellow.  I'm much less trusting of weather these days, but I find these shots so inspiring.  I love the colors and the vibe, and of course the big bag on the left.

Yesterday I listened to the This American Life episode about Sam and his Iraqi 'brothers' - boys he began a relationship with by telephone and talks to every week.  His wife narrates the story of their relationship and she explains that usually the hardest part about talking with them is not hearing about the dangers and suicide bombers in their neighborhoods, but finding something to say back when they ask about her day.  Safety is such a given where we live that its hard to imagine what it would be like to live in a place where the status quo is explosions in the street.

So let me make this clear: I am not trying to draw comparisons between Iraq and my neighborhood. We live in a great community of people and rarely feel our safety threatened. I say rarely as opposed to never only because of the recent tornado and the effect that it had. My mind however, tends to mull over the events or stories that I have exposed myself to and the former story keeps coming up in parallel with the story below and whirling around up there.  I think I am sorting and trying to make sense of unnecessary suffering in both situations.

Last night Tory and I were talking around a large bonfire in our backyard (wood has been in abundance lately) and a car passed by our house and both our parked cars, going what was probably over 90 mph.  It bottomed out at the top of our street and exploded when it hit a tree. Tory ran to the scene, and I walked, trying to make my new too-fancy-for-me phone dial 911. As I got there, cops were already pulling up and I tried to absorb what had happened. 

Your mind moves so quickly in situations like this.  After I went to bed I was really upset with myself for not helping out once I arrived, but realized this morning that I had arrived a few seconds after the police already got there and help was already being distributed... the images in my mind of the woman trying to get up that I could have helped probably only lasted a few seconds before a policewoman helped her, but in my memory her pain and wailing last so long, while I just stood there.  I didn't even think of helping the other people who weren't moving.  It didn't seem like the right thing to do since the police were there. In the end, my lack of actions didn't make a difference either way, but I wonder what the most helpful thing to do is when the police is there and the ambulance is on its way.  Perhaps leaving is the most helpful thing to do after all.

All I could think as we left the scene was "why were they going so fast??"  I don't understand why you would ever go that fast on a residential street. It caused such unnecessary sorrow.

When we got home I offered some prayers for them.  Seems like not enough but in the end that's all I had.  I don't know where this entered my consciousness but I like to imagine that God has allowed the ocean to absorb the pain of the earth... carbon dioxide, over fishing to feed huge populations, waste of all kinds... and it is so big and large that it can bear it better than we or the land could.  We just don't know for how much longer.  So between this accident and last months tornado in an area already bearing the impacts of a society full of systematic injustice, I think the trees are bearing the community's pain, and we can connect and commune in the streets in spite of and because of these events.