Musings . . . I guess. I'll call it that for lack of a better title
So, I just watched the movie 'Freedom Writers' and it kinda had me thinking - "What the hell am I doing?" (Yes, for those who know me it was h -e - double hockey sticks - not 'heck' that went through my head.) I've always had a passion for people. For those who get dealt that crap-hand in life and are treated like less because of it. But what have I been doing? Nothing. And what am I going to be doing? I don't know.
When I graduated highschool I had it in my head that I was going to go into Social Services to help make a difference. Registered for the program and everything despite the protests from my math and science and fellow upper level classmates - teling me that I'd be wasting my 'smarts' and potential. That I wouldn't be making a difference and most peole didn't want to be helped anyway, saw the social worker as an enemy who did more harm than good. I was determined though, I believed this was a way I could really help people - even if one person at a time. I was nervous I'd take it home too much, and probably would have, though I don't think that's entirely a bad thing. God had other plans for the next phase of my life though and, reluctantly at first, I followed them, am glad I did. I wouldn't change the experiences of the past 5 years (well, not most of them at least - and I learned and grew from the negatives).
And now? I figure the course I'm taking is one that makes sense. There aren't a lot of things one can do with an English degree and the other options are ones I've either decided I don't want or don't show I want enough by the choices I make everyday. So, I made the marks, I got the acceptances and I'm off to a scholarly existence for the nexdt 5 to 40 years (potentially) and can I make a difference there? Yes. There are professors who made a difference to me. I'm already one of the super advantaged though. A lot of the people who would most benefit from someone believing in them, encouraging them to help them realize they're more and capable of more than society tells them they are may not cross my path. I could cross theirs though through other means...
Super advantaged- an understatement. The majority of the life choices I have to make - the things that 'stress me out' or cause me to have concern are issues that probably 90% of the world would give almost anything to have. Almost all of my little 'burdens' are actually incredible blessings, and I realize that and count myself blessed, and am thankful and disgusted. Disgusted that I live in a world where I can be so ridiculously blessed and go through most days hardly even really realizing it. Disgusted that I'm part of the problem sitting here in my nice home, music on, reclined on the couch, food in my stomach, every member of my immediate family alive and not in daily fear of losing their lives. And what do I do? Give it all up? Would that make any real difference? I do some, for sure, perhaps even more than a lot of us 'privileged' of society but what does 'some' really mean. Where is that line, where does relatively nothing become something. In individuals? Maybe I can't make a difference in the world, but I can make a difference in one person's world at a time. Does that give meaning? And this could go on forever...
I pray, asking the Lord to tell me what to do. To help me to know where He wants my life, what He wants from me . . . and I don't even know how willing I am. This is not our real life, not what will matter - but we hold on to what is tangible. What we can know and feel and touch; what is familiar. And we believe we are small, and we are, but so is the mustard seed. I don't know where I'm going anymore - with these words, and as I write that's all they are. And how do I make them more than pen on paper in a book that probably no one will ever read? I can take them one step further and I probabaly will (have). But that's not enough to make them real. So what's real? People. Always. Only. People. And that's the reason I'm sitting here right now at this very hour instead of being on the other side of the world beginning my day instead of ending it. . .teaching my beloved pre-schoolers class English before going into the semi-dreaded afternoon to teach the children who don't want to be there and before going home in the evening to another night in my empty apartment - living a life to myself. But . . . the weather's beautiful over there now - maybe I'd go for a walk after work, take in the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms I never gave myself a chance to love.
How does one live a life that matters. . . and what determines that, changes the status from mere existence to life - a life-breathing life. I already answered that question. Now to live it more than I am, to live it with vigour and passion. The thought makes me tired - or maybe it's merely the hour. Maybe it's letting go of all that isn't 'real' but that I hold as real. But always the question - how far? Friends (myself inclueded) were joking about that this weekend, about living a non-material existence, nothing but a mat to hold as your own. This was prompted by a friend who, for certain reasons, felt God leading him to sell all his movies (because he gave too much importance to them) and give the money towards something that mattered. Should we only maintain the bare necessities - or even less than that? Where's the line between responsibility, practicality, stewardship, reliance on God, and fanaticism? There's a lot I'd rather not part with, just as there's a lot of serving or sacrificial situations I'd rather not put myself in - and what right do I have, blessed as I have been for 22 years, to feel that way? Why shouldn't I be willing to change my position, lose my life and my comforts so someone on the other side of the world, or even in the 'projects' in my own country, can have it better?
This has been all over. Here it ends for now.
When I graduated highschool I had it in my head that I was going to go into Social Services to help make a difference. Registered for the program and everything despite the protests from my math and science and fellow upper level classmates - teling me that I'd be wasting my 'smarts' and potential. That I wouldn't be making a difference and most peole didn't want to be helped anyway, saw the social worker as an enemy who did more harm than good. I was determined though, I believed this was a way I could really help people - even if one person at a time. I was nervous I'd take it home too much, and probably would have, though I don't think that's entirely a bad thing. God had other plans for the next phase of my life though and, reluctantly at first, I followed them, am glad I did. I wouldn't change the experiences of the past 5 years (well, not most of them at least - and I learned and grew from the negatives).
And now? I figure the course I'm taking is one that makes sense. There aren't a lot of things one can do with an English degree and the other options are ones I've either decided I don't want or don't show I want enough by the choices I make everyday. So, I made the marks, I got the acceptances and I'm off to a scholarly existence for the nexdt 5 to 40 years (potentially) and can I make a difference there? Yes. There are professors who made a difference to me. I'm already one of the super advantaged though. A lot of the people who would most benefit from someone believing in them, encouraging them to help them realize they're more and capable of more than society tells them they are may not cross my path. I could cross theirs though through other means...
Super advantaged- an understatement. The majority of the life choices I have to make - the things that 'stress me out' or cause me to have concern are issues that probably 90% of the world would give almost anything to have. Almost all of my little 'burdens' are actually incredible blessings, and I realize that and count myself blessed, and am thankful and disgusted. Disgusted that I live in a world where I can be so ridiculously blessed and go through most days hardly even really realizing it. Disgusted that I'm part of the problem sitting here in my nice home, music on, reclined on the couch, food in my stomach, every member of my immediate family alive and not in daily fear of losing their lives. And what do I do? Give it all up? Would that make any real difference? I do some, for sure, perhaps even more than a lot of us 'privileged' of society but what does 'some' really mean. Where is that line, where does relatively nothing become something. In individuals? Maybe I can't make a difference in the world, but I can make a difference in one person's world at a time. Does that give meaning? And this could go on forever...
I pray, asking the Lord to tell me what to do. To help me to know where He wants my life, what He wants from me . . . and I don't even know how willing I am. This is not our real life, not what will matter - but we hold on to what is tangible. What we can know and feel and touch; what is familiar. And we believe we are small, and we are, but so is the mustard seed. I don't know where I'm going anymore - with these words, and as I write that's all they are. And how do I make them more than pen on paper in a book that probably no one will ever read? I can take them one step further and I probabaly will (have). But that's not enough to make them real. So what's real? People. Always. Only. People. And that's the reason I'm sitting here right now at this very hour instead of being on the other side of the world beginning my day instead of ending it. . .teaching my beloved pre-schoolers class English before going into the semi-dreaded afternoon to teach the children who don't want to be there and before going home in the evening to another night in my empty apartment - living a life to myself. But . . . the weather's beautiful over there now - maybe I'd go for a walk after work, take in the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms I never gave myself a chance to love.
How does one live a life that matters. . . and what determines that, changes the status from mere existence to life - a life-breathing life. I already answered that question. Now to live it more than I am, to live it with vigour and passion. The thought makes me tired - or maybe it's merely the hour. Maybe it's letting go of all that isn't 'real' but that I hold as real. But always the question - how far? Friends (myself inclueded) were joking about that this weekend, about living a non-material existence, nothing but a mat to hold as your own. This was prompted by a friend who, for certain reasons, felt God leading him to sell all his movies (because he gave too much importance to them) and give the money towards something that mattered. Should we only maintain the bare necessities - or even less than that? Where's the line between responsibility, practicality, stewardship, reliance on God, and fanaticism? There's a lot I'd rather not part with, just as there's a lot of serving or sacrificial situations I'd rather not put myself in - and what right do I have, blessed as I have been for 22 years, to feel that way? Why shouldn't I be willing to change my position, lose my life and my comforts so someone on the other side of the world, or even in the 'projects' in my own country, can have it better?
This has been all over. Here it ends for now.
posted by Charles at 8:47 PM
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