Single Girl in the City

In attempts not to sound too "complain-y" or downright debbie downer, I wanted to dedicate a post to what life is like for me, as a 20-something single academic in a big city.  I have definitely spent a lot of time feeling defined by whether or not I was in a relationship-- and now, whether or not I am married-- by friends, family and the greater culture around me.  As a feminist, I hate that I give in to those pressures to feel bad about myself because I don't have the same things that I "should" at this point in my life, as a woman.  I fully believe that it is more than ok (even laudable!) to never get married, to never have kids, and refuse to give in to societal expectations about what being a woman means.  However, as much as I can write about things from an "academic" perspective (even as a feminist), I will admit that I do want some of those things, and that is ok.  Even when re-reading that paragraph, I notice that what I think and how I feel are totally different things, and that maybe I don't even fully believe what I write sometimes.

As I turned a year older this January, I reflected on where I thought my life would be at this age.  I know that I am still young, but there was definitely something sad about ringing in another birthday without someone (a romantic partner) to share my life with.  Ever since I was a little girl I would always think about what it would be like to get married, and how wonderful that would be to have someone to love, to have something that gives you that extra spark in an otherwise normal day, to get giddy about someone and for that to last.  I found myself envious of yet another engagement surprise posted on facebook, or monumental steps taken by couples in romantic relationships: planning weddings, celebrating marriage, first houses, first vacations together, etc.  I know that I don't necessarily feel called to have children, but the idea of having some sort of family that's mine and not just being "Aunt Karen" my whole life would still be nice.  Being ok with the fact that that might not happen for me is a struggle but one in which I think is necessary to face.  As a spin on the old addage is the question: "What if your  Prince Charming never comes?"

The reality of the situation for many girls in their late 20s is that outside of a college environment and now in the workforce, it's difficult to find a lot of single people in the same age-range who share some of the same interests, values, etc.  As the "sea" gets thinner and thinner, it's hard not to feel disheartened, thinking that you've somehow missed the boat.  With years going by and relationships not working out, there is also a lot of baggage to deal with.  How do you love yourself again and find your true authentic self after serious relationships fall apart?  Do you have to wait to fully feel comfortable alone to try and let someone else in?  I struggle with a lot of these questions, because above all else, I want to feel some sort of peace in the fact that I might not have someone to share my life with, and that it's still a dinner for 1-- but that doesn't make me any less loved.  It's alone, but in a different way.  Maybe that has its own beauty.

The Courage of Doing Nothing

A few days ago, one of my friends from college posted the following "Poem for Busy People" on their facebook page:

Cramped

I need margins in my life. But I am
Crammed right up against my limits of
timefocusemotionstrength

Therefore it doesn’t take much for me to spill
over into the spaces,
Filling them until I have nowhere left to go.

I need margins. But everything in me wants to do
all I can. Be all I can be. Save the world
from sin and destruction.

Then I have so little time for rest and love.
So little time for quality so great is my quantity.
Rest and Love are segmented parts of my week,
teetering on the edge of my schedule
Where the slightest breath can knock them off,
treated like chaff when they are really marrow.

If I have a Palm Pilot that can keep track of all appointments;
if I have the ability to add more people to my schedule;
if I know all about grace and rest and love
but have not love and rest,
I am a tired disciple, a dim light, a busy Martha.

All that I have been taught tells me to do more.
Tells me that I can be God. That God needs me
in 100 places at once. That I can be Superman if I
beat my arms furiously enough against the air.

In order to make room for margins,
what will have to fall?
If I don’t make room for margins,
I will be falling.

—Marshall Benbow

In such a fast-paced, utilitarian driven society, it's hard for most of us to not feel guilty in taking the time to rest, to make room for the margins so that we can fully nourish our minds, hearts and souls.  Sometimes I find myself making excuses for why I don't have enough time to go to mass, go to yoga, or even make healthy meals at home.  But for me, the undeniable truth is that sometimes the silence and the rest scares me.  This fall, I have had a change of pace in terms of my schedule, which is more socially balanced than last year, but much more of a commitment than I have hours in the day.  Thus, quiet and rest often fall to the wayside, taking with them prayer and contemplation.  I have never been too "good" at prayer to begin with, mainly because my mind is always flooded with thoughts of anxiety and competing voices.  However, it has become very clear to me that I've been keeping so busy not only because I like to feel useful, but also because I'm frankly scared of what would happen if I really self-reflected.

I am definitely not afraid of my own deepest fears or inner doubts- in fact, I would rather confront them head on and try to become more mentally healthy than live in denial of them.  But there is something within me that just doesn't want to "deal" with what is really going on in these changing seasons of life.  It's easier for me to just plunge into my work (be it pastoral or academic) than to go, take my journal, and go sit by the lake.  Because I know that I have a lot of things that I haven't really taken the time to process, but am scared of what that entails.  Sometimes we have things churning inside of us that come up so unexpectedly.  Maybe it's God continuing to knock on the door of my heart until I finally have the courage to open the door, and confront the fact that I don't even know if he/she is really there for me anymore.  I need to have the courage to do nothing, in order to find out. To do otherwise would be for me to be closing the margins of my life, to the point where I just spill over and fall.

In yoga, there is this heart-opening pose called "dolphin" pose, and you literally prop your body on yoga blocks in such a way that your heart is wide open and above the rest of your body.  During that pose, while an acoustic version of "Bring me a higher love" was playing, I cried.  I couldn't stop, and I was so embarassed!!  I wouldn't have known that I had that inside of me until I actually stopped, did nothing, and opened up my heart.  Maybe I need to try that again sometime...

Namaste, and other ways that yoga has changed me

About 2 months ago, I decided to go to the drop-in free yoga class that my neighborhood yoga studio has on the first Saturday of each month. That day, I knew that I had fallen off the wagon in terms of running, and that the semester had started out with a roar, draining me in a lot of ways that I didn't know how to deal with. By the time I reached the middle of the class, I knew that going to yoga weekly was the thing that I needed in order to calm myself down throughout the semester- I thought to myself, "I want to learn more about this type of spirituality." While I don't claim to know a lot about Eastern spirituality, or even about different types of yoga philosophies, I wanted to jot down a list of really important things that I have learned through yoga, and by practicing it 2 or 3 times a week:

- don't compare yourself. This probably comes as a given (as are most important, basic lessons in life), but whenever I'm in a group class, I always find myself comparing myself to other people or trying to get the moves *better* than someone else. In yoga, on of the teachers always starts off by saying that yoga is not a practice about ego, but rather about listening to how your body is that day and not worrying about whether you are doing it right or if everyone is getting the "tree pose" except for you.

-right now, you are perfect. When I was taking a class in Minnesota with my childhood friend Liz, the instructor told us to believe, for the next hour, that we are perfect. As soon as she said this, I got all "theology" on that statement and kept thinking about how we are all fallen, how we are far from perfect, how I'm far from perfect, etc. Then, as I was thinking about how much I disagreed with this statement, she said "don't try to analyze this thought, or question it." In that moment, I really was perfect, simply because I wasn't nit-picking things that were wrong with me, I was just loving myself.

-leave everything behind when you get on the mat. This hour is all about you, and you get to leave the world behind for a little bit and stop the freakin' broken record in your head of doubts, to-do lists, relationship drama, work drama, etc. and just concentrate on you. Although in principle it is not hard for me to indulge in myself, it is very hard to stop my worries, my anxieties and my thoughts about the day. My mat is the place where my mind stops analyzing...even if just for a moment.

-your breath is the most important thing, it is the center of life. For someone who finds myself not breathing deeply enough when I get anxious (most people don't know how to breathe through their diaphragms, and when we get nervous our breath naturally gets really short and "heady"), being reminded in yoga to breathe intentionally is the best thing for my daily life. I really loved it when my instructor said that when we find ourselves thinking about other things or worrying, to breathe so loud that it drowns out that little voice. At first I thought it sounded really funny when the people next to me where breathing so loud that it whistled, but it really does feel good. Good air in, bad air out.

-As you exhale, let go of anything that you need to let go of. Let go of anything that is weighing you down. This is perhaps the greatest lesson (again, really simple duh I know this stuff but don't live it) that I have learned from my yoga classes. Anything that isn't lifting me higher, that is literally bringing me down in my life, needs to be released with every exhale. I have believed for a very, very long time that to love someone means to love them even when they treat you badly, and that Jesus loved us even we we turn our backs on him so why shouldn't we do the same. The problem with this type of belief is that I have never been able to let go of things (mainly people) who, for the most part, just make me worry, make me feel bad about myself, and make me unhappy. I justify it by saying that love isn't about always expecting reciprocal feelings in return, it is not a give and take economic exchange that is always equal...it's just love, no matter what. But there is a problem in always loving people who just give back negativity in return, or make you feel weighed down, even if unintentionally. I need to let go. It's not because I haven't loved enough or in the way that they want me to, it's just because they are weighing me down, and I am better than that. I need to learn to love myself.

Namaste. The divine light in me recognizes the divine light in you. Or, as my friend Maggie translates it, "have a good day." ;-)

And I Will Try to Fix You

I have been meaning to write a post about this for a while, but when I'm not constantly reading, writing, or constantly thinking for my PhD program, I tend to want to do really shallow, mindless things like buying things I can't afford, watching reality tv, going out, etc. I also didn't know if I wanted to post this because it is pretty personal. Nevertheless, in the spirit of the famous feminine slogan, "The personal is the political," I am going to write about the uncomfortableness of this topic for the world wide webs to see, because it is really important to me as a theologian and a person, and I think it should be important for you, too.

Speaking of tv, I am definitely a Gleek and not afraid to admit it. I think that especially at the end of last season, the writers were brilliant when covering really hard topics like gay teens, teen pregnancy, sex in general, and mental illness. The "Born this Way" episode was amazing to me because it really empowered people to embrace who they really are, especially in the arena of mental health. Probably my favorite part of that episode was when Emma, the guidance counselor was in the therapist's office and finally admitted to herself how ashamed she was of having OCD. The therapist said to her, "Mental illness isn't who you are, it's preventing you from becoming who you are." She also spoke boldly about how mental illness is so stigmatized in this country and although most people deal with it, no one wants to talk about it. Brilliant.

Fast forward to about a month ago, when they continued to tell the story about Emma's OCD and how it affected the relationship with Will, her boyfriend/star of the show. When her parents came over for dinner (much to her horror), you could see how much of Emma's upbringing had contributed to and perhaps even created her OCD. Mental illnesses are definitely biological, however they are definitely also socially created by the actions/reactions that we have as children. The episode ended with Will trying to comfort Emma, who was in her own little world of pain, with the Cold Play song "Fix You" playing in the background. This episode was eerily similar to what was going on in my own emotional journey at the time when I watched it, and it definitely touched me.

In one of my classes, I wrote a response paper about H. Richard Niebuhr's book The Responsible Self, shortly after this episode aired. My paper revolved around the idea that for Niebuhr, morality is a person's response to actions done to him/her. Niebuhr views morality as responding to that which is acted or placed upon a person in their life. We as human beings and as moral agents are always in community, and there is no denying that the way we live and the way that we act is always integrally connected with interpretations of other people's actions and responses. We are communal beings, and for better of for worse, the way that we view ourselves is based on what we think others want us to be or what we think others think of us. In his chapter on the meaning of responsibility, Niebuhr claims that in our responsibility a person may attempt to answer the question "What should I do?" by raising a prior question of "What is going on?" or "What is being done to me?" It is impossible in Niebuhr's eyes to understand events or act upon each other as persons or groups without constantly interpreting the meaning behind another's actions.

Karen, where are going with this?? The reason that I am a big proponent of mental health awareness is because I myself have anxiety disorder. I have had it all my life I think, but it started to really flare it's nasty, cruel head in college. Ever since then, my relationships have been affected by it, and I have defined myself by it. Some people in my life have contributed to my anxiety, and some people have helped to calm me down. I am not at all saying that we aren't responsible for the way that we deal with our feelings (I know that I am in charge of getting help for myself and can't blame others for the way that I react to things), but I do acknowledge that my anxiety is not something that is an isolated affair, it is helped or hindered by my responses to other people's actions.

I have thought, many, many times, that if people found out what my anxiety truly looked like, they would want to run away. And some people have run away, which affirmed my great fear. But some people have seen me and stayed. Many of the people in my theology department here in Chicago have seen me in a bad state of anxiousness, and instead of fleeing, they stayed. That action caused me to have a reaction of peace, of calm...even if it was only for a few hours. I am eternally grateful for the people in my life, especially my family and dear friends who have sat with my by the bed like Will did for Emma in Glee, and lived out the song lyric "I will try to fix you."

The famous sociologist Charles Cooley present the image of the "looking-glass self" when describing the way that we view ourselves. "Each to each a looking glass reflects the other that doth pass." In other words, when a person responds to another action, they are interpreting the meaning of the actions upon them, and often reflect back to the world a version of themselves based on what they perceive these outside meanings to be. I want to be able to reflect back to the world a version of myself that is strong, confident, resilient and compassionate. Sometimes, however, life and mental health gets in the way, and we reflect back a distorted image that we aren't good enough, we aren't lovable, we aren't important. I hope to always remind myself that there are wonderful people in my life who are constantly building me up and are always there for me when the actions of others or my own reactions get me down. If we are always choosing to act based on the activity which is already around us, then I want to choose love, I want to choose life.

"The world will knock you down more times than you can imagine. Don't knock yourself down." ~Adam Braverman, "Parenthood"

Finding the Dalmatian

Ok, so I'm totally doing this when I become a professor. Today I had my second PhD course, and it was a course about fundamental Issues in Christian Ethics, particularly in terms of faith and morality. This is the kind of stuff that I love, learning about feminist ethics, social justice ethics, and just how the hell (pun intended) can we use this faith that we have to make a difference and to create a more just and loving society. Anyways, my professor is an Ethicist, and he is probably the funniest prof I have ever had thusfar...but amidst the joking was such a strong message. So here is the activity that we did today about a dalmatian and the kingdom of God:

We were all given a piece of paper with black and white splotches all over it, and on the top of the paper it said "top" so we knew which way to hold it, and at the bottom it said "Find the Dalmatian". So, being the visually astute person that I am, I stared and stared and within a few minutes I raised my hand to say that I could see the dalmatian. There were only 2 other people who could "see" it, in a class of about 20. When I went outside in the hallway so the professor could verify that I could point it out, he just shook his head no and said that I still hadn't found it. The other 2 people tried to show me what they could see, but the stipulation was that they couldn't blatantly trace it out for me, they had to try to explain it. Phrases like "it's actually smaller than you think" and "it's not looking at you" made me more confused, and I was trying for the ENTIRE class to find the Dalmatian. To the point where I could barely listen to the professor because I was so upset that I couldn't see it, or that I had thought that I had seen it but really was totally wrong.

The way the prof linked this with faith and morality is that in a very real way, this is how Jesus must have felt when trying to explain the Kingdom of God to people. He KNEW that the dalmatian was right in front of them, but all that they could see were black and white splotches. He couldn't "trace" the image for them, he had to explain the kingdom in parables, hoping that they would finally see it for themselves. That "aha!" moment can only arise out of the person finding the dalmatian and then, all of a sudden once they have found it, they can see nothing else. How frustrated Jesus must have been when he tried to tell his disciples "it's right there in front of you!!" but couldn't force it upon them (perhaps because of free will, perhaps because every person has to come to belief by themselves??). The prof said that the people like me were very much like Peter....they wanted so badly to believe, wanted so badly to see....but they just couldn't. I just couldn't. I feel very much like a Peter in that I believed that the dalmatian was there, but I just couldn't see it myself. I actually thought that I saw it, but then was told that that was a "false" image. Some people are like Paul and they all of a sudden see it and then their lives are changed because now they can't see anything else in the picture.

I'm not really explaining the powerfulness of the activity very well for those of you who weren't there, but it really got me thinking about faith, and about the constant struggle to see what is right in front of you. Right now, I'm having trouble seeing. I'm having trouble believing that God knows the desires of my heart and is going to give them to me at the perfect time. I'm having trouble seeing how being in a whole new city, torn away from my dearest friends and family, will feel like home. I really really want to see, but I can't right now. And like Peter, I'm walking on the water terrified that I'm going to drown- oh me of little faith! What would it mean to finally see things clearly? How jealous I am of people who do see it clearly, with no trouble at all! It's kind of ironic that I was so sure I saw it and then was told "nope, that's not it"...how often I think that I know what's best for me and what truth is, when really it's just a distortion of my human and biased eyes.

In the end, I forced one of the girls that could see it to go in the hallway after class and literally highlight the dalmatian for me. I had no "aha" moment, just a relief that I solved that puzzle for the morning. So I kind of cheated. But deep down, I know that me finding the kingdom of God will be the greater struggle, and there's no cheating. So, like Peter, I'm just gonna keep trying.

Charity, Justice, and being convicted by love in El Salvador

This past June, I went with my home parish, St. Catherine of Siena, to El Salvador for 10 days to visit our sister community in a village called El Sitio. I hate to call it a mission trip, because we weren't really going to evangelize (most of the people were already Catholic), and it wasn't even necessarily a service trip...it was more of an immersion, a visiting of friends, who would soon become like family. I could write about how great it was to bring medicine to the village, to help them install water filters, to guide them in their village meetings, and to play with the kids- it was. But I think that the point of this trip was not really to "be one with the poor" or to give pieces of our wealth to people living below poverty level, however gratifying/selfless that may feel. I think that the point, though I may be corrected, is to understand how their life is like, to learn from them as fellow human beings and share our stories.

There was an article that we were told to read before we left called "The cost of short-term mission trips", and it talked a lot about how at times it is futile for North Americans to go on mission trips for such a short amount of time because they immerse themselves in a situation ridden with poverty, bring some of their first-world goods, play with the kids, and then comfortably go back to their relatively pampered lives. This often leaves the people who went on the trips feeling proud of themselves for "surviving the dump" and for "giving back" and the people on the receiving end depending on these kind of handouts and free gifts from the people who come.

When I was in El Sitio, I feel like I learned from them more than they could ever learn/receive from me. I learned how the power of forgiveness can overcome even the most brutal of wars. I learned how even when you don't have that much, you can still be so generous. I learned that education is perhaps the most important thing that a person can have, and it is a glimmer of hope in the midst of young teen pregnancy, the oppression of women, poverty, war, and governmental oppression. I learned that I feel more alive, more like myself, when I don't constantly have technology to distract me from my real problems, though technology certainly serves a great purpose. Sometimes I can have so much yet feel so alone, as I suspect many Americans feel at one point or another.

But on to the theme of this blogpost, which is my discovery of the fine line between charity and justice during my time in El Salvador. On one of the first nights there, I remember having a night-chat with my group leader Bryan about how guilty I felt about how dirty I thought the outhouses were, that even the "master bedroom" that they gave me left me feeling kind of repulsed and like I was "camping". What made me feel so bad is that I knew that I would only have to "put up" with living in the location for a week, when for the people of the village, this was life. What did I do to deserve a flush toilet, the luxury of stepping out of a pristine shower and feeling so clean, and enough money to always keep me fed, happy and with options in my life? I am so spoiled, and yet so underserving. Furthermore, what good can it do when we North Americans come down to El Salvador with money and gifts, when even if they work all day in the fields they still won't make enough to survive on their own and feed their families? Are we perpetuating the "handout" culture that short-term missionaries have created? Where is the justice and can things change?

I asked myself all of these questions and had a kind of word-vomit conversation with Bryan that night, and it left me constantly wondering what I, as a Catholic first-world citizen can do to help people in developing and third-world countries self-sustain, and have a good quality of life. I don't want to give a man a fish (I've only actually fished like 3 times in my life, haha), I want them to be able to fish themselves, get paid a just price for their fish, and not have to rely on the U.S. for handouts. Surely the Jesuits who stood up against injustice in El Salvador, and Oscar Romero, would agree that as Catholics we have a duty to stand up for justice and have a preferential option for the poor. What is theology if it doesn't spur people to practically apply the gospel in their everyday lives? And so, as I enter my PhD program, I want to focus on how my theological studies can contribute to liberation, to thriving and to a more just world.

Gender Neutrality

Just wanted to quickly post this NPR article about gender- it asks great questions about what gender means in our society today!! http://www.npr.org/2011/06/24/137342682/the-end-of-gender?ft=1&f=1001