A Year of Change

Dear Reader(s),

Another year has come and is leaving, as we watch the snow pile up on the sidewalk. I can truthfully say this has been the longest year of my existence; a year I will remember for life.

I have grown in more ways than one, and I hope you have too, Dear Reader. I have learned many timeless truths, and become more convinced of the Truth.

This is a question and commentary on my life (and possibly yours), so I am willing to speculate: what has had the most impact on my future life?

Before I went to Costa Rica, my posts revealed me for what I was truly feeling: panic, insufficiency, and a confusion of identity. I learned to love people through that experience of total surrender. I no longer allowed myself to be insecure; I just dealt with the problems and happenings as they came to me. I immersed myself in the culture with its people and tried to emulate the same reactions, emotions, and perspective they had already. I came to understand many of my "unanswered questions" I had grown up with: questions about etiquette, about responsibility, about my life. Going completely changed me.

When I returned to the country, my posts again showed me for what I was: confused and frustrated. I had never encountered an experience that left me speechless before, and thus I was frustrated at my inability to explain myself, both to people who were genuinely seeking an understanding, and those whose preconceived notions threw me off my guard. I fought for a truth I had never believed or stood for until this point, and lost many times, all the while knowing that my experience had taught me this truth beyond refute. Returning completely changed me as well.

I've taken classes, and I've learned and applied new concepts to my life. I've learned and applied new relational techniques to my connections with friends, family and roommates. I have sought out people to have conversations, and I have sought out enemies to make peace. I have actually tried to set aside my personal feelings and fear of pain in order to love others in a way I believe Christ has called me to love them.

I hope this can be my legacy, Dear Reader. I hope you can read this, and you can agree. I also hope that by writing this, you will look at your own life, and find what has shaped you too.

I wish you well, Dear Reader, as the back cover closes on this chapter of my life: A year of Change.

What to say?

No sé que decir.

I don't know what to say.

Is it better to speak without a voice, or remain tactfully silent?

Sería mejor? Would it be better?

Today I am tired, but able to switch languages without thinking. I, who am now fluent in two different languages can find nothing of importance to say. What good then, is my knowledge? If I cannot affect change, incite a revolution, persuade peers, or even defend my knowledge on the basis of reason within the confines of the two languages I possess, how will I ever find a voice to give a voice to others?

What makes a good leader?

Is it passion? Is it courage? Is it willingness? Is it servitude?

Of these qualities I possess ample supply. How then do I restrict myself from leading? I have things to say, people to lift up and encourage, peers to serve; what makes me hold back?

What to say?

What not to say?

Do I even want to lead?

No. I don't. I want to empower.

What to say?

I have nothing to say, and yet, everything in the world. It is important that I stress this.

I hope that I can use my my talents, my passions, my courage, my willingness, my service for others. To empower. To encourage.

Metamorphosis

Again, I ask you, Dear Reader: when is a "level" of maturity achieved? Is this even possible? To complete a "level" of maturity? As beings, is it not true that we constantly grow? How then is it conceivable to reach any "level" whatever it may be?

"Levels" have thus been devised my mankind to measure itself and the world it perceives. Disagree? How many things can you, Dear Reader, name with its stages? Even the alphabet is leveled; we have the first letter, and the last letter.

If it had been given a conscience, would a caterpillar know it was changing inside its cocoon? With out ever having seen itself before, would it know?

Like a fish has no notion of being wet, so a desert has no notion of being dry. And yet, a tadpole will know both worlds, seeing as it starts in water and ends on land.

Metamorphosis: a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

I'm a very passive person--to a point. I would much rather mediate a conflict with peace and honesty than I would argue my views and insist on my accuracy of fact. That said, I will speak up when I know I am right. I try not to do this all the time; no one likes a know-it-all.

I will speak up, and I will (quietly) firmly hold to my position. I believe a conflict is never "won" by the loudest combatant, and so I will give my views, but then allow others to give theirs. I don't like arguing opinions.

There is a Right, and there is a Wrong. This is not my opinion, it is fact. Just as there is light and there is dark, so there is a Right and a Wrong. We may put different things under these headings, but they remain opposites.

If we believe that there is no such thing as Right and Wrong, we fall prey to the worst kind of laziness called un-accountability, which allows us to do everything we want, whenever we want, without regard to any type of moderation. Moderation is key: I love sugar. I love candy. If I were able to eat candy all day long, and as much of it as I wanted, would it make me a better being? No, but I would have some nasty cavities to fill. Too much of a Good thing is always Bad. Therefore, there must be a Right and a Wrong way to enjoy the Good things of life.

If everything is left to opinion, Dear Reader, we allow others to mistreat us, insisting that the actions are a result of "his opinion" or "his upbringing", when in reality, "his" actions are Wrong. The idea that any one "opinion" is not more important than others' allows us all to develop great capacity for apathy. What is the point of arguing if, according to opinions, we're both Right? That said, why should we allow ourselves to be doormats for the sake of a personal view of humanity?

If humanity is inherently good, why don't we always do Good? Why do we know there is a Right and a Wrong? What is it about human law that separates us from animals? We may have instincts, true, but we can also act against our "instincts". What then? Do we blame the society and environment? If we blame the surroundings for causing our choices, we are not helping the problem, but furthering it! If I do not have the Power of Choice, Dear Reader, I am not human, but an animal with nothing more than instincts it cannot disobey. Such a view surely does not encourage civility, but dehumanization.

If all the creatures of Earth have evolved, and the highest form of evolution is Man, and Man's thoughts are not nearly his own but a random collocation of atoms, what makes Man greater than Beasts? What allows Man to act against his "instinct"? And further, what claim has Man over any basis of Fact, Truth, or Authority? If he is merely random, could he not also have developed improperly? What merit has he to say that we all came from one simple life form and not from another? What gives him authority to talk on Right and Wrong? Nothing. His words are meaningless strings of phonetic sounds, intended for intelligence, but ending in stupidity.

I ask again: when is a level of maturity reached? When have we changed? Do we know when we're changing?

Like all beautiful butterflies, we must first change from worms.

Silence

Silence is hard. Sometimes, it's harder than speaking up.

Dear Reader,

Have you ever been a part of some sort of drama, theatre production, where (backstage) another performer has told a whispered joke, and instead of laughing in great guffaws, you must silence yourself to half-concealed sniggers, and choked gasps of air? Silence is hard.

Have you ever, Dear Reader, known that your suggestion was right, but were shut down by popular vote, and then been proven right through sheer circumstance, though you resolved not to push the issue? Silence is hard.

Have you ever walked into a room that stopped, mid-conversation, Dear Reader? Silence is hard.

Have you, Dear Reader, ever known another to be angry at you in silence? Silence is hard.

I try to encourage others to speak because it is a hard thing, to stand up for one's beliefs. However, it is even harder to endure the silence that follows.

How many things can be said in silence? How much more can be said in silence? What a power it is have a focused silence. Power enough to cause others to quake in their boots at a silence, or to impose the most uncomfortable restrictions lest one were to break the silence.

Silence is hard.

Why do we suffer in silence, Dear Reader? Don't we have friends to support us? Aren't we called to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn? What makes us think we should suffer, then, alone?

No. This is the wrong type of silence. We should not suffer aimlessly and without support to come out of such mourning. It is an injustice.

Are there others around you, Dear Reader, who are silent? Reach out to them. I implore you, as I will also try to do. Regardless of my suffering, should I not offer my listening ear to another who is possibly suffering in silence? Stand up for those who speak with silence.

Good night.

Helping Hand

Why do we even try to help people?? We often assume we can help, but are blinded to our own insufficiencies. Then we think we're right to help, and go on in a superior fashion.

No one asked! Keep your advice to yourself! If someone wants specific help, he will say so. It is not my place to assume I know what's best--Who am I to think I hold the benefit for humanity? What is in my background, my present, my life, my soul that I am so infinitely full of wisdom? What causes my personal perspective to be so desirable to speak? Why must I even open my mouth?

And then, of course, when confronted, "I'm just helping..." Helping whom? Myself?

People may be dumb sometimes, but they are not full imbeciles. If left to oneself, a person will either survive, or die trying. How insulting to speak to him as though he were a child! Or worse, to take him strictly literally, not allowing for human error, and then pointing out his humanly error as soon as he commits it!

What is the point of picking out another's errors? To help him? How?

Matthew 7:3-6

"'Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

"'Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.'"

Stop assuming others are wrong. Instead, give others the benefit of the doubt that they did, in fact, have an intelligent thing to say. If we all have been given a brain, it is likely that we all have an intelligence. Therefore, use it for the good of others, and not to bring about personal gain and glory! How foolish it is to puff oneself up, thinking others admire, when instead they laugh and ridicule.

"The people you help should have a right to say 'We don't need you,' 'We don't like how you help us,' or 'Let us help you.'"

--Karina Vargas

"We can be judging by offering to help because we assume we understand another's needs, but we're not listening."

--Karina Vargas

Stop assuming. Listen. Speak sparingly.

Have a wonderful day.

October Thoughts

Happy October!!!

It is now 5 p.m., and I am sitting in my dorm room while I write this. It has been raining all day, the sky is overcast, and my toes are cold. The wind is blowing outside; I see the large tree out our window dropping acorns like little bombs. My roommate is sleeping, and has turned out all the lights in the room except for my desk light. Ahh, Fall is here!

The leaves have been turning colors, and have been falling to the ground. Riding my bicycle has become (more) dangerous because of wet leaves and random bits of bark and acorns.

What is today? It is the second of October--what a day!! Why is this day special? Because I am alive today. It is special because I woke up and I could breathe today. It is special because I was able to bring joy to someone today. It is special because it has been made special.

Isn't that a thought? That this day is special just because it has been made that way? Why do we go through days one at a time? Because each one is special.

People often ask me my favorite time of year, and expect (I don't blame them in the slightest) that I will answer with "Summer!" But I'm not sure that it is. I like summer because summer is hot and gives me an excuse to spend time out-of-doors. But I also like winter because winter is pure and crisp, and when the snow falls like a thick blanket, the moonlight reflects off it at nighttime. I love winter. What about spring? Spring is wet and new; tiny seeds planted begin to take root and grow into flowers. Trees bud and flower, and everything with breath sings because winter is finally over.

This is Fall. Fall is clear, chilling air rushing down my throat; the smell of burning leaves, the colors of scarves, knit hats, and boots. Fall is miniature acorn bombs, and chattering squirrels.

Each season is special to me for its own individual reason. Liking all the seasons does not make any of them "the same as the others", just as liking the majority of people I meet makes each individual "un-special". I have been given the grace, and the gift, to see the Beauty of life, and to cherish it; the least I can do is tell others.

This day has no political, economical, societal, religious or theological significance (as far as I know). This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Have a wonderfully special Ordinary Day!

Time vs. Schedule

Well, Dear Reader, shall we define "time" first or "schedule"?

Given the general consensus, schedule seems to be a measure of time. Ever since Personal Data Assistants became popular, more people find it necessary to "pencil it in" than they find to actually keep the majority of commitments made.

Have you noticed, Dear Reader, the block-like way that we now (whether forced to or not) organize our time? I have a little day-by-day timesheet of my classes, colored in bright colors per class per day. Where is it hanging? Where I can see it on my tack board. When I'm not around that little piece of paper with my schedule on it, I have trouble remembering which block of time I need to commit to next. Why can't I remember what I have given my word to? Is it so far from my mind to where I go because I'm just ready to be there?

Well, wait, if I'm ready to be, do I treat time differently?

Then what is time?

How can one define time? It has an end, as we are all told. Therefore, it must also have a beginning. But is time solely a measurement, or could it be that the idea of time is as abstract and incomprehensible to the human intellect as it would be if I were to attempt to paint it? Regardless, time is very nearly incapable of definition. We can "picture" time by drawing a clock, or something similar, but time as an existence? How to draw an existence?

I've just started reading Ecclesiastes, beginning with chapter one, title: Everything is meaningless. Great start for early morning devotions. Ecclesiastes also includes the famous "A Time for Everything" chapter (chapter three), which lists everything from emotions to work, with the same phrase.

Remember the previous post where I ranted (I did, and I apologize) about youth and apathy? Where I criticized being "busy" with nonessentials?

What is it about time that our culture defines it so differently from others? Where one culture will insist that time is "do-ing", others will insist that time is "be-ing".

Since returning, I have struggled with Task vs. Relationship. Or Schedule vs. Time. Here, I study grammar, mathematics, and theology. Abroad, I studied culture, language, and people. Both sets are equally important; however, to different cultures these two sets are unequal in value. If I believe in Task, I will set a schedule to make the most of my Time. If I believe in Relationship, I will have lots of time.

People should always be more important than tasks because they are people.

What are tasks? The schedule will always be full if we fill it, but Time can never be full until it has ended.

Looks like this post is long enough.

Youth and Apathy

Dear Readers,

Thank you for enduring my ridiculous lack of commitment. I could regale you with a list of my classes, followed by a full detailing of my extracurriculars and campus jobs, but I'm sure you really wouldn't care to hear my excuses. Thus, we begin.

We had a really interesting chapel speaker on Monday, who, among other things, caused me to wonder about a common recurring theme I've only recently noticed among myself and my peers. Having visited three countries in the last six months, I remember hearing about things like the Nicaraguan revolution against their cruel dictatorships, or in Panama, the Kuna taking back their lands both diplomatically and by force. Or, even more recently, the Costa Rican students involved in city programs.

I'm not saying that here, in the United States, we are all lazy and uncaring; just that we are very apathetic.

Did anyone notice how none of the youth really cared about politics until the presidential elections last year? I heard nothing of state, provincial, or even of city elections all last fall. Granted, I was here in Michigan, but still--shouldn't there have been some sort of talk? After all, the president can only do so much for the states that they can't do for themselves.

It is the motivated who are actually doing something, obviously. What is it, though, that almost all of the people who care are abroad in other countries? Those who stay in this land to serve fellow countrymen are few and far between. The youth of this nation are apathetic.

When I went on my semester abroad, I became so relaxed and laid back. I absolutely loved spending time with people and talking to them face to face. I made sure to listen carefully and show others my true interest in what they had to say. Without cellphone, without car, without instant messaging, I discovered one of the greatest commandments: Love God, Love People. It made sense.

Coming back, I had to get myself motivated to a new type of busy. I came back to my computer with instant everything, my cellphone, and my dad's car. I had to try to adjust to people (for some odd reason) wanting to know everything about me, all the time, as soon as possible. The youth of this nation ARE busy. But we are busy with things. I'll be having a conversation with another student, when all of a sudden there will be a buzzing sound and the student will reach in his pocket, pull out some sort of communication device and--while texting--tell me, "Go ahead, I'm still listening." I find this extremely rude. Why have conversations with fourteen different invisible people and ignore the one person physically standing in front of you? Unfortunately, this happens all the time now. What became of common courtesy? When people talk to me, I try to look them in the eye when possible.

Perhaps it is because of our "conveniences" that we no longer care about current events. In a culture where everything is at our disposal--technology, services, information--we have everything, and nothing at all. How many of us actually take the time to Google all the information in the world? How many of us own every prototype of technology available and still get out to see the sun? How many of us take advantage of all the services available in our state in one fell swoop? Most likely? Few to none of us. The few ridiculously rich who can afford all the technology will probably prefer to learn about the "outside" world from the "comfort" of technology. These few will not have a definite "need" (at least in their own minds) to move beyond the shadow of comfort to experience because one can read others' experiences instead.

What motivates nowadays? Well, given the political/economical state of things, I would say that politics and economy are very motivating. At least, these are the subjects upon which every person has his own opinion. Why is this? Because we hear the most about politics and economy on the evening news. More, that we can find numerous websites, blogs, and columns with the "hottest" topics. Topics are only "hot" based on who says they're hot.

The youth of my country are apathetic. I try not to be, but it's an infectious disease, the type that is mind-numbing and pulpit-accepting. Of course, it depends who is numbing the mind, and who is standing at the pulpit. If it takes too much work to think, we tend to give up that chore--Remember the Power of Choice!!

For now, good night and a warning: Think critically about what you hear, and become motivated!!

TWITTER!!!

Dear Readers, I apologize for not being a more interesting writer! I have been editing news stories for our student publication The Pulse, and have been trying to keep up with homework...

I have two topics I want to discuss, but alas cannot do them justice right now. They are: Youth and Apathy, and Time vs. Schedule.

I will write about these either tonight or tomorrow--sometime this week.

I have a Twitter now! Follow me at http://twitter.com/thoughtisms.

This is definitely the shortest post I have written.

Entering Adulthood

School has officially started up again. I am taking 14 credit hours which (for some unknown reason) translates to only three classes. Actually, it's four, but one is an online class.

One of my misgiving upon returning to the same university after my semester abroad, was whether or not I would be accepted by the same people, or even come to acknowledge the same group or the same thoughts. Part of entering "adulthood" is supposed to be about finding my place in the world.

Right now, I am absolutely, 100%, completely, positively happy to be me. I feel better about myself enough that I don't mind if the same people I knew before don't accept some of my changes. I feel confident enough that I don't need their approval in the same way I did before. Going to another country again when I could understand the physical, social, philosophical and cultural ideas better has really improved my outlook on life. I had jitters earlier about not having the "right" ideas. It's okay now.

I mentioned in an earlier post about how I wasn't going to be dumb enough to post ALL of my personal thoughts online. Neither was I going to pick fights with others about unanswerable topics of religion and politics. I am just going to believe what I believe, as I plan to let others believe what they believe.

I still think that there is an absolute Truth, just as much as I believe there are relevant "truths".

I am still the push-over I was last year except for one difference: I am no longer a welcome mat. If a friend says X to me and expects me to take their opinion solely because they believe they are right, I will listen to their ideas, but I will not allow them to force me into an acceptance of X. In fact, I may just listen, accept their argument, but continue believing Y. I have a right to do that.

I'm finally getting the next piece to the puzzle of my life. I am starting to understand my boundaries and the boundaries of others. I am beginning to take into account something different.

It's weird self-analyzing all the time.

I must get to class!!

Have a wonderful day!

Remember Our Fallen Heroes

Dear Readers,

Today is a special, somber day. Today, eight years ago, many thousands of citizens lost their lives in a terrible act of terrorism. Today, eight years ago, the World's eyes were opened to a different view, as commercial 747s were purposely flown into two of the Western world's most influential buildings. Today is the day of Our Fallen Heroes, the day of 9-11.

You were there, weren't you, on the day the towers fell?

You surely saw, didn't you, the victims who jumped to their death rather than be crushed by the upper floors?

With out a doubt, you too stared at your TV screen in shock, repeating "Oh my God."

When the people let out a great roar at the atrocities committed today, eight years ago, you let your voice be heard as well, didn't you?

As the rubble was cleared, you too were praying for just one more survivor, weren't you?

I was.

Every year, I wonder if people will remember, or if they will go on with their lives as if nothing had happened. Every successive year, I find that I am disappointed. I agree with what I said last year in the post "Reflections".

Crying won't bring back those lost to us. But ignoring such a sacrifice won't allow them to live on either.

Whether we had someone close to us, someone far from us, someone we liked, someone we disliked, someone we respected, someone we feared, someone we had never even lain eyes on, we all saw the planes. We all saw the towers cave in on themselves. We all saw the fires. We all saw the jumpers. We all saw what happened.

If anyone of us holds any life at all dear, let us remember the lives taken from us, and the lives given to prevent more lives being taken. Let us remember the brave firemen, the tenacious policemen, the absolutely admirable citizens like Todd Beamer and others. Let us honor them. Let us Remember Our Fallen Heroes.

It doesn't matter if we agreed with what happened or not. The fact that human lives were lost and their blood spilt because of a difference in politics or religion or thought is a crime unto itself.

God bless the families of those lost.

God bless the families of those taken.

God bless those who are fighting against such crimes.

God bless those who try to protect us.

And God help us not to forget them.

Good night.

Laziness vs. Willingness

Today, it is raining. I don't mind; I like the rain when it's warm. But, I've noticed how the weather often affects my humor. And I say "humor" instead of "mood" or "emotions" because "humor" to me encapsulates my attitude, my state of mind, my emotional flux, and my aspirations.

Therefore, today my humor is a melancholy one. I am of a "happy" emotion; I am of a "thoughtful" state of mind, and today I have to force myself to stay focused.

I tried my best this morning, taking my new 12-speed bicycle around campus before it started pouring. Guess who left her umbrella in her room at home?

On days like today, I like to wake up early (which is weird for me) and take a hot shower while singing love songs at the top of my lungs. Then I like to settle into a corner by a heating unit of some sort, and read to my heart's content. I will often doze off during reading, relaxed by the sound the rain makes against my window. In essence, I wake up early to do...nothing.

I like doing nothing. It's comforting.

See?? See how hard it is for me to focus?? This is the most disjointed blog I've written for a while!! As I sit at my computer, drying off, my mind keeps taking flight on the most random of fantastical journeys. Even watching my goldfish swim around in his jar choking on leftover bits of his breakfast (it's really kind of funny because he swallows them, chokes, and they come out his gills) is cause for me to become lost in thought.

I don't consider days like today "lazy" necessarily, just "relaxed". I am willing to do my work and get things done, but it's really hard. The reason why I'm writing a post at all is because I have done everything I can up to this time. I'm going to chase people down for interviews come 1:30 because I can be sure that they'll all be in their offices again.

And I'm getting better at riding my bike. I'm still afraid that I'm going to run over a freshman, especially since I don't know what the rules are for bicycles on the campus grounds. I remember always jumping out of the way, so I think I'm allowed to cycle on the sidewalks. The streets go nowhere, so they're out.

Regardless, have a wonderfully raining day!

The Power of Choice vs. Happenstance

Happy September, everyone! I hope this post finds you well into the swing of things, what with schools and all.

I like the word "happenstance". It's a good blend of "to happen" and "instance".

Today, I am a victim of "happenstance": I am in bed with a fever of 100ºF because I failed to close my bedroom windows when the temperature dropped to 40º a couple nights ago. Now I'm coughing up my lungs (and vast quantities of phlegm), I have a headache, and my nose is running a marathon...

I have been told before that I am a "morbidly optimistic person". I think that's a good thing. Of course, it depends on how it is said, whether applied gently, or thrown out. Regardless, I tend to see the positive in any given situation I am put in. It isn't always something I have to constantly remind myself of, but often a reflex action to the negativity around me. Sometimes, of course, it is very hard for me to be my positive self. In fact, sometimes, I absolutely resent seeing that same joy in other people.

I really don't like being sick--it's terrible! My mom confines me to a diet of toast and tea (which doesn't ever fill me like real food), and I have to lie still for large amounts of time. I could be doing something in that time!!! Today, I had such a headache and sensitivity to light, however, that I wouldn't have been able to do much. Taking a nap has had the greatest effect on me.

The Power of Choice vs. Happenstance comes down to this: What do I choose when things are beyond my control? I left my windows barely open--just to catch a slight breeze--and I got sick. I can't stop my body from getting a fever, just as I can't physically stop my head from aching or my nose from running. I cannot choose to be better at all (trust me, I've already tried). I just have to wait it out, and continue taking Ibuprofen for my headache. While I wait it out, it does no good to complain in a loud voice my trouble. No one else can help me.

Therefore, I choose to be positive, Dear Reader. I choose to rest and take it easy so that I get well before I have to move back on campus.

And of all things, I really hope my voice comes back because it's weird ringing a bell every time I want something I can't get myself...

Have a wonderful day!!

The Power of Choice vs. Expectations

Good evening, Dear Reader(s). I'm trying to acclimate myself to the college schedule by writing this really late. Don't worry, I'll write my posts during the day once classes actually start.

I want to consider Choice vs. Expectations. This may be similar with the previous post of Predestination, but then again, it may be entirely different. That remains to be seen. However, I would like to start with a brief personal history: I am a different person. Or so I am told.

As long as I can remember, "being myself" has always set me apart from my peers. I like "different" things, I have a "different" background history, I have a "different" perspective on life. To me, being "different" is normal, in every unimpressive sense of the word. However, it is when I try to be different that I blend in with those around me.

Why is this?

Is it because so many people are trying to be different that they all end up being the same?

While in Grecia, Costa Rica, my host mom and her best friend had a Bible study and prayer time, during which they laid hands on me and prayed for me. After they had finished praying, the best friend looked at me and said that although she didn't know me, she knew that I would be a different person upon returning to my homeland. She told me that people who knew me before I came would marvel at my change.

I have no problem with either of those women; Neither do I have a problem with such a statement. However, I have heard proclamations like these made to me more times than I care to count. Many people tell me that I will go far in life, that I'll be successful, that I will change many things.

My issue is not with the people; one can always expect the old people at church to want to see me do well in life. My issue is with the expectation. By whose standards is "far in life" measured? Likewise, to whom will I be considered "successful", and who will mark my "changes"? The people-pleaser/obedience complex in me tries once again to usurp my independent choice by making me feel the absolutely overwhelming need to obey those proclamations so the people will think highly of me.

But thus begs the obvious question--How do I "go far in life"??? And, on top of that, what is needed to "be successful" or to "make changes"??

A very good friend of mine that I had the fortune of meeting on the semester abroad, told me that I was overthinking things too much. Sigh. I tend to do that a lot as well.

If I am worried about my Power of Choice, it still remains with me. I have to remember that these well-wishes are merely that, wishes. Suggestions. Old teachers expect me to use my talents to their fullest capacity, but cannot force me to do so otherwise, should I refuse. And to be perfectly honest, I should listen to others who have passed this part of their life already. They have many bits of advice of things they wish they would have done at my age, or things they should have avoided. I appreciate the help.

This post is the first of my pre-return-to-school jitters. School starts for me much later than most of my friends, so while they leave to attend classes, I stay here wondering if I have changed, and how much. Mostly, I wonder what my personal change will incite in others.

Dear Reader, it is late, and this is all my tired brain can comprehend at the moment. So, for now, I bid you good night because this post is long enough.

The Power of Choice vs. "Predestination"

So, I put Predestination in quotes because I feel that there are many views of predestination out there, and I wanted a blanket term...

Some people believe that Predestination means that regardless of what we do, it has already been pre-recorded and filed away. In cases of after-life/soul salvation, it can mean that only a certain number of people have been called to "fill" heaven. Predestination can also mean that we, as humans, are mere puppets, never quite being in control of anything and following the course of our fate, much like a plastic bag floats on the current of a river. There are many different views to be taken into account. Can all of them be essentially right? Could only one of them be essentially right?

Who knows? I surely don't. And to be honest, why should I question that? I'll never discover the answer until either I find that I'm right, or I find that I'm wrong. There is no possible way to be sure that Predestination is or is not the right thing ahead of Death.

Continuing on the topic of the Power of Choice, I would like to point out (as I have done in the past several times) that we CHOOSE. This said, I must be clear that I find total Predestination a little hard to stomach. Maybe I'm an optimist--wait, who am I kidding? Of course I'm an optimist!!--but the fact that I make a Choice causes me to think that perhaps Predestination is like gravity: it can be bent.

If by the term Predestination, we mean that all of any given human's actions have already been pre-determined, then we must conclude that any given human has no choice over his actions that have already been forseen; he is merely following his Fate.

However, if we allow that any given human has the ability to take his situation/mood/happenstance into account and choose how he will act/react to it, then we must conclude that any given human also has the ability to control some small part of his life.

Therefore, Predestination could be true so long as it allows for Choice. In my opinion, anyway.

In direct relation to views of Faith, it makes sense that any Being who created a universe would invariably know all about the universe, its inhabitants, their nature, and their choices. Simply put: Even though God knows how I will act/react to any situation/mood/happenstance, he still gives me the Choice to act/react that way. I do not have to act any certain way. I can Choose it for myself. The idea that God already knows my action does not mean that I have no control over it.

Think of Greek legends and myths, for example. There are many legends where a prophecy was made to one or more of the main characters, who (upon hearing this prophecy) interpret it in their own way and act/react accordingly. The prophecies come true because the character was seeking to avoid or help or whatever. Had the main character chosen to act differently, would the prophecy still have come true? Maybe it still would have. The best example I have of this topic is a famous Greek tragedy called Oedipus Rex, to which I have posted the link here. Long story short, the King and the Queen have a son born to them, so they take the son to an oracle so she can tell them the son's future. The oracle predicts that the son (Oedipus) will grow up to kill his father and marry his mother. In fear the king and queen send Oedipus to live with a poor family and forbid contact with him. Oedipus grows up not knowing his real parents. He leads a revolt with the people against the king and queen, and upon victory, kills the king and takes the queen for his wife. He finds out later, though, that it is his mother he has just married. Which is disgusting. But the motif is clear: Fate vs. Freewill. Was Oedipus required to kill the king and marry the queen? That depends on the context: as an overthrower of the established government, yes, this was a very common thing to do. However, if he had known his true identity, one can surmise that he would not have killed the king and married the queen, already knowing them to be his father and mother. He was even made aware of his prophecy foretold at his birth, and believing his adopted parents to be his true parents, moved away so as not to fulfill this prophecy.

What a thought, huh? The tale of Oedipus Rex shows that even though Oedipus tried to fight against what was his Fate, he was still slave to it. He even made choices that contributed to the fulfillment of such a prophecy. In the end, he couldn't escape himself.

Maybe stuff is just going to happen. And maybe by trying to make my own choices I contribute to that which I cannot control. However, I still can make choices, even if they have a hand in my Fate.

And with that, I take my leave because this post is long enough.

The Power of Choice vs. Influence

Good evening, Dear Reader. I would like to make a case both for and against Influence as it interacts with my newfound Power of Choice.

For example: Obviously, the Influence of other people in my life will have a direct effect on my choices. However, others' Influence should not be used as a scapegoat for my personal choices. The Power of Choice remains with me, and cannot be parted from me thus.

Way back in second grade, I remember it was popular to say "The Devil made me do it," in normal, everyday conversation of...well, second-graders.

"Johnny, why did you chase Amy?"

"The Devil made me do it!"

In hindsight, because we were young enough not to know too many swear words or curses, blaming an invisible object deflected responsibility from ourselves (especially when we weren't sure the type of attention we would receive for an action). Besides, blaming the Devil was certainly tantamount to actually cussing, therefore, we all felt very much grown up.

Truth be told, Dear Reader, I've often disliked the Power of Choice because it means if I am wrong, it will be on my head. I don't like to be wrong much. Hence the dislike. But, I don't have to let others Influence how I will choose. I can, but I don't have to.

I've realized lately how much my taste in music has been Influenced this summer, what with spending time with my best friend, with my godmother, and at the radio station. I now recognize at least one hundred new songs that I didn't know this time last year. What is it about music, that it can make and break people all over the world?? Does the music I listen to have a direct Influence on how I Choose to dress myself? how I Choose to speak? how I Choose to act? how I Choose to live? Some people think yes; it has often been promoted by these people how suicidal teenagers will kill themselves after blaring music with suggestive lyrics. Unfortunately, I have heard far too often this same story, and how the musicians of such lyrics should be ashamed of themselves for introducing these ideas at all.

Personally, I don't think such lyrics should be made public because they are suggestive. But at the same time, I know that those lyrics sell. Friends who listen to this type of music tell me that the artist is "expressing what I feel" through the song. Regardless, it remains the sole Choice of the teenager what he will do with the suggestions he is given in any type of music to which he listens. Especially when he tells me that he prefers to "just listen to the music." This is a mindless choice. Mindless in this sense meaning that Teenager Bob refuses to use his own grey matter, but a choice nonetheless.

In the same way, Influence (especially in music) can be a positive thing! How many times have I heard people say that they "love this song" on the radio because it makes their day better? And it is Influence that is single-handedly responsible for personality/behavioral changes in recovering addicts of various vices!

There is an Aesop's Fable about a crane and a flock of other birds. The Crane is a nice bird, and the Farmer and his family like the bird and tell him he is welcome to their house anytime. But the flock of Birds are unkind and destroy the Farmer's crops and his fishing net. The other Birds tell the Crane he can be in their group, and the Crane reluctantly agrees, and helps the Birds destroy crops and farming tools. The Farmer goes out to throw a net on the mischief-makers, and catches the Crane in the net. The Crane tries to plead his way out, but the Farmer tells the Crane sadly that he is the company he keeps.

It is up to the Crane to Choose how to behave: accept the kindness and friendship of a respected Farmer, or gain the acceptance and camaraderie of his peers who want nothing but trouble for others.

In short, the Devil can't make me do a thing I don't already choose to do. I can make my own choices and even choosing not to act is an act in itself.

Good night, Dear Reader. I hope you get a restful sleep tonight.

The Power of Choice

My dear friends, family, acquaintances, the occasional web-surfer; YOU, Dear Reader,

I would like to write on a very perplexing subject. I wanted to write this on my actual birthday, but what with activities and surprises...well, I'm sure you understand. I have recently come of age. And so the obvious question: What do I choose as my lifestyle?

I've had many mixed reviews over the course of my birthday, some urging me to try alcohol and such while others warn me against it. Some tell me that these were the best years of their lives, while others caution me about having too much fun. It would be easy to say I would rather choose the path straight down the middle, but then it begs the question: where is the middle? However, this is my time to choose; the Power of Choice stays with me.

What a funny thing Choice is. We can often dress it up to look as though we had nothing to do with it. It still remains our Choice. Right now, I feel that there are so many Choices, but my mom assures me the most pressing to me at this moment will all dissipate in a few years, only to be replaced with other choices.

Sometimes, I hate choices. I dislike that either way I choose, I may let someone down, or lower their expectations of me. I'm a people-pleaser. However, I'm learning more and more that as infrequently as I make choices for myself, it allows someone else to take over a little part of my life. Perhaps, if I feel pressured in any way at all, it's because I've let so many other people have a say in what I do. If I don't take responsibility for my actions, then someone else will be blamed for them. Why should I surrender my entire life over to other people just to avoid making choices??

The greatest thing about turning 21 is that I am no longer limited to certain things because of my age. If I am ever out with friends, I can take responsibility for my actions in choosing to accept a drink, or choosing to deny it. For the most part, I will enjoy knowing I can choose whichever option I want. I have that power, that Choice.

I say it is a Power; well, it is! And yet, think of all the choices I have made in a day without giving them a second thought! Some people try to use other "influencing" factors to get out of making even the smallest choices, while others will use (or sometimes, overuse) those same influencing factors to get what they want out of life.

Here's what I see about choice: depending on the day, the hour, and general daily energy of a person, Choice is one part logic to two parts emotion, to one part reflex. Even the most logical person has some hidden meaning behind his decision, especially if the deciding factor triggers a past triumph or failure. Equally, in decision-making, emotion and reflex are almost completely attached to one another, and thus vary the most in this equation.

I have the Power, the Power to Choose. No one can tell me what I will choose. They can tell me how they would choose, and they can tell what they think I should choose, but I still actually choose in the end. What a gift!

I will write more on this later because this post is long enough!

Good night!

Preservation of Innocence

Okay, so I obviously didn't come back after dinner. Hopefully, I've given you plenty of time to digest the first part of this thought, Dear Reader. Thus, I return with the promised factors of "Rules and their Influence" and "Actions vs. Reactions".

RULES AND THEIR INFLUENCE:

Reading in the book of Romans of the Bible, Paul says:

"Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we became conscious of sin (Rom. 3:19-20, NIV)."

Previously in this book, Paul was both justifying God's sovereignty and his right to punish. It strikes me as interesting, Dear Reader, that Paul doesn't consider the "law" as a burden, necessarily, but as a measuring stick by which one discovers good vs. evil.

Object Image:

Okay, growing up in my family, there are lots of things that were just expected of us--doing the dishes, asking permission to stay at a girlfriend's house for the night, calling when out later than expected--these were things I was used to. When I entered junior high and high school, suddenly these "expectations" became "rules", so named by my peers who insisted that they were "free" to go to a friend's house for the night without asking, or they didn't have to call because their moms just "didn't care". My peers came to pity me for the vast amount of "rules" under which I was allegedly suffocating. The thing is, I didn't see these as "rules" until I realized that very few of my peers shared the same upbringing. Thus, it was because of these boundaries that I became conscious of "Right" and "Wrong" in my house.

So, logically, "rules" have two effects: a positive effect and a negative effect. If, with our imaginary village (let's call it 'Stickville'), everyone grows up with the same rules, Right and Wrong in Stickville will be very clear. Anyone who disobeys rules like "Do not murder" will obviously be rejecting the law, and thus be guilty of a crime. This shows that the law was created to remind people of the potential 'evil/Wrong'. If, in Stickville, everyone grows up under each individual family's personal interpretation of the rules, Right and Wrong will be undefined. They will still be known, but they will be undefined. For the sake of argument, let us say that in order for our Stickville to retain its innocence, all residents must abide by the exact same law, and the exact same interpretation of said law.

Sorry, Dear Reader, but I'm tired. I didn't think this thought would take me so long...I'll have to finish it later.

Good night!

Running out of sorts

This is an expression my mom uses every now and then. I don't think it's an actual idiom that people use around here, but my mom uses it nonetheless. I feel it very accurately describes my life from the last post to the present: AAAAHHH!!!!

Just had to clear my system. I'm great now.

Well, of the more random things I have to ponder, Dear Reader, I still have one more reflection from Kuna Island that I still haven't shared! My apologies! Next time, I'll try harder to keep my promises I make online. I will end up writing two posts today, if I can.

ORIGINAL STATEMENT:

"The Village"--When we were in Granada, Nicaragua at the end of the Nica trip, two students rented the movie "The Village" by M. Night Shamalan (sp?) from the front desk of our hostel to play on the television in the lounge. This movie presented me with an interesting idea that I have seen here as well: innocence. Can it be preserved if the community is separated from the rest of the world? In the movie, the community still had some problems. Here, the Kuna say that violence does not exist on their island. This also makes me wonder about rules and laws: how much is too much? And where to personal rights come in? Should the cut-off community listen only to its own rules in order to preserve the innocence, thus negating the rules of the world completely? What about humanity? Although we often have perfect conditions in which to preserve said innocence, would it still survive? It seems to me that our choices and actions would make innocence harder to preserve.

CONTINUATION OF THEME:

First off, any poor unfortunate soul who has not seen M. Night Shamalan's "The Village" needs to go right now to the nearest movie rental and rent it. Seriously. It is a thriller about a village in the middle of the woods, and everybody is afraid to go into the woods. (SPOILER) It becomes apparent that the creatures/monsters that live in the woods and terrify the people are really the elders dressed up in costume. They do this to keep the younger generation from falling back into the world. It's fascinating. I wouldn't ruin it like that, but I need the basis for this post, sorry. Still, go and rent it. I would buy it, but I know intellectual thrillers aren't for everyone.

So, the Kuna and Innocence. This was a purely objective reflection; the only way to continue the discussion would be based on personal perspective rather than facts or statistics. Therefore, the question is simple: If cut off from the "world" and placed in a closed environment, would the Innocence of Humanity survive? I'll make this harder by posing two likely paths of thought: If Humanity is inherently good, then Innocence will survive longer. And: If Humanity is inherently evil, then Innocence will not survive long at all.

I personally feel that every human is a little of both, like the whole ying and yang deal. Perhaps I am indeed an idealist, but I find it impossible to believe that even the hardest criminal in the world lacks a soft spot. It may not be big enough for anyone to reach, but it is there nonetheless.

However, once we have decided whether or not Humanity is inherently good or evil, the next question to ponder is which idea will spread faster, the good, or the evil. If, in our imaginary village, there are 7 'good' people and 1 'evil' person, and we have decided that good spreads faster than evil, then we can likely assume that the 'evil' person will, in some way, be converted after spending his life with the 7 'good'. Now let's flip it: If there are 7 'good' people and 1 'evil' person, and we have decided that evil spreads faster than good, then we can assume that the one evil person will have infected at least more than half of the 7 'good' after having spent his life with them.

More to come: Rules and their influence, and Actions vs. Reactions.

Dinner!

Notes II

ORIGINAL STATEMENT:

Skirts/dresses--I love my sarong, and I use it every day. I still believe that pants are more practical, but I like skirts. Why do women use pants to work? Was it the the women's liberation that started this practice?

CONTINUATION OF THEME:

Truth be told, I can do so much in a skirt that I've always done wearing pants. It depends on the skirt, apparently, but they are really versatile. I can wear a casual skirt, change my shirt/blouse, and the skirt becomes business casual, or even semi-formal. Jeans can never be semi-formal--unless they are in pristine condition.

Perhaps you, Dear Reader, are familiar with the pictures of Rosie the Riveter? From what I've learned in U.S. History classes, the picture of a woman wearing overalls and performing a man's job while retaining her femininity was very appealing to women who were only house-makers up to that point. Once war broke out and the States joined in, the men were off fighting, but there were still many jobs to be done. The only resource available to employers at that time were women, who were strong because they raised households; women, who were strong because they were facing a lonely future until their husbands and brothers and sons came home.

The thing with the Women's Lib is this: the movement started (as they all do) because there was a definite need for change toward women's rights. Before the 40s and 50s, women were primarily devoted to house care. They cleaned. They cooked. They dealt with the children. They mended. They tried to make the husband happy. They tried to keep their kids from getting spoiled. Women had a heavy time of it. However, because of this stereotype, women weren't expected to achieve much else. Once they started working the men's jobs, they had to change their a-line skirts for pairs of overalls. This gave them more freedom.

You know, I really like a-line skirts. I agree with why the movement started. However, I humbly submit my thoughts on feminism today: If the movement started so that women such as I could go into the world and pursue any type of education, job, office, etc. that she wanted and not be told by the society that the said activity was not suited to her gender, then if I, as a woman who believes in choice, plan to be a home-maker in this world of business, I believe I should have that choice. Feminism was not started to control the world, but to create a semblance of equality. Will we ever be "equal" with men? I doubt it. But that doesn't mean it's entirely impossible.

Regardless, I really like skirts. Then I can be a woman who chooses because she has the power to make a choice, and not a woman who chooses because she thinks others have made the choice for her.

Good night, dear friends!

Notes

So, I finally received the journal I wrote in for the Kuna trip, and wow!! I wrote so much. There is a section where I thought up topics I wanted to write about when I got back, but because I had to turn in that journal for a grade, I forgot what the topics were until I received it again and began to look through it. That said, I'll do my best to translate what I think I was thinking at the time... Also, I'll probably post one a day, just so I don't load down the family and friends who want a quick read.

ORIGINAL STATEMENT:

Poverty-- I have seen photos of people who live in houses like the Kuna with the label of "poverty" under the picture. The Kuna--they choose to live this way. This is not poverty. Also, why is it that we believe everyone needs to be as rich as we are? Although we have our riches and our privileges, we need much to maintain them. The Kunas work out of sheer necessity.

CONTINUATION OF THEME:

I believe I've already written about this (and if I say the exact same thing again, I apologize, although this is a point I feel needs to be stressed as much as possible). However, the fact remains: our greed and love of material wealth has very obviously caused the economic downfall that people in the United States are currently experiencing. Some have worked so hard for their futures, only to find it's the present that's falling apart; Others have worked so hard for their present, only to find they have no future. To look at it this way leaves me, Dear Reader, with only one option: our manner of thinking (that is to say, our manner of logic according to fluctuations of less stable factors like the economy and human nature) must have a flaw. Consider: If we believe that we are dealing our lives correctly in the world during this age at this time, then the world should either continue getting better, or should stay the same. If the world becomes worse off while we believe we are dealing our lives correctly, then something must be faulty with the original logic. This is how science class works. Make a hypothesis, experiment, draw a conclusion, and adjust your point of view on possibility. It's also "Cognitive Dissonance" all over again.

I would just like to add that I am not at all against hard work. I think that working hard is a very admirable thing to do, and I wish more people did it. My point is that our balance of work and play is off. If we work to sustain a perfect lifestyle, we may never enjoy our lifestyle to the fullest. The question comes down, not to work itself, but necessity versus greed. If we work out of greed, we will never have enough. If we work out of necessity, we will always have just enough.

This is a lesson I learned from the Kunas I lived with. What an honor to be brought into their world.

NEW JOB!!!!!

Okay, so a good friend pointed out that I really haven't written anything about my summer, so here goes (and my family is sitting down to eat, so I'll expound more later):

I am interning with a local radio station in the downtown area. It's a rock/jam band station, catering to the musical needs of the "invisible generation" or Generation Jones (for those of you who are still confused, "generation Jones" is the wave of children brought up by the "baby-boomers"). It's fun; I'm learning so much about music and many things about live radio!!

My family is waiting for me, so I'll be back after dinner!

Weathering the Weekend

So I'm feeling poetic... I thought the title was pretty darn good!

Wow! What a weekend! We had both my little sister's graduation open house, and my little brother's birthday party--To think that I still remember my sister way back when we were skinny little girls who played 'dolls' with every movable object in sight...Well, it was weird to see her graduate. And then my brother! I feel so old when I think about his age! Can it really have been this long?

Time. What a marvelous enigma to the collective human intelligence. Time has always been an awe-inspiring mystery to me. I wonder at the circle, and how I stand on the shoulders of other's whose 'time' was before my own.

They say that 'Time heals all wounds', that 'Time flies' or that someone has 'Good timing'.

I can't wrap my mind around a force that has existed for a long time, but not forever. Consider: Time has an end. Everyone knows that. Therefore, I reason that it must also have had a beginning. What was there before Time?

So much, yet so little. Time continues to stretch, but what happens after we leave this earth? Our 'time' is over. It's so little.

I'm tempted to post Hamlet's 'To Be or Not To Be' speech here. Okay, click this link, why not?

It's not that I'm feeling morbidly depressed or anything, it's just that I'm...dumbfounded. Hamlet (although he is depressed) has somewhat of a point: Time. What happens after we have served our 'time' here?

I don't know what I think, so I'll definitely come back to this later... However, I digress. I intended to write this post about 'Weathering the Weekend', and how I've found the easiest way to get through an event or occurrence in which I'd rather not participate is to hunker down and just do it. It was like that for me this last weekend. Oh, I have nothing against helping out my siblings, it's just that, well, it was a big hassle to do both in the same weekend. A headache I could have done without. But then again, they've always helped at my 'social gatherings' and whatnot, so I did the best I could to make theirs enjoyable as well.

Hmmm...

I must away.

Good night!

Thought-isms

Let's be honest, you all knew this was coming somewhere. Just like those movies that you pick up from the library or the video store with the weird title that you watch so carefully until you find the title casually thrown out in the dialogue; or one of those books, where you spend half the chapters trying to figure out how it relates to the title at all... This is that post, where you will finally know what it's all about. This is that post, where I begin to make sense.

First things first, though: Happy June!!! My sister's open house for her high school graduation, and my brother's birthday party have coincided on the same weekend. Major headache to both, even though a congratulations are in order...

Also: This post is, in truth, late. I meant to post this yesterday, on the actual first day of June, so as to clarify my "hiding out for a month". I failed. Oh well.

With this in mind, I will now attempt to clarify my views on life, otherwise known as my "thought-isms" (come on, you have to admit that's a little creative...?):

GREEN:

Costa Rica is possibly the 'greenest' place I know. I'm sure it's due mostly to the overabundance of vegetation, the fact that land is spread out, and the 'cities' aren't as densely populated as they are in the States... When I returned here, I was utterly repulsed by eating seafood, pork, chicken... well, meat. As I've regained my bearings, if you will, I have discovered that I really do like salads better. More, that I can eat chicken if I have to, I can eat seafood if I have to, but I honestly would just like some veggies. This has come as a crippling shock to my parents, who can remember back to the time when I used to turn my nose up at simple peas. I still don't like green beans though. Weird.

Also, since being back, I have noticed the ingredients in foods and have started avoiding things with high fructose corn syrup (it gives me a stomachache anyway) and too many preservatives. I have also been trying (when I actually go to purchases) to buy things that were made from recycled materials, or things that were brought into the country by Fair Trade (not Free Trade).

STYLE:

I debated with myself (obviously) about putting in this category, but it seems appropriate, so now I'll explain. My style of dress before I went to Costa Rica normally revolved around jeans and collared shirts. My style of dress after coming back has consisted of hippie skirts, bracelets, glasses (I have very stylish frames, thanks to my Aunt Linda!), tank tops, sandals, and collared shirts. I've even gone through my dresser drawers and filled a large garbage bag with clothes that I no longer use or don't fit me. After the craziness of this coming weekend, I intend to wage the same judgment on my closet, and my two boxes of clothes in the basement. Having lived in almost utter simplicity in Nicaragua, and again in Panama, I really don't need the extra baggage. I took one suitcase on my trip, and one suitcase back. While away, I didn't even use all the clothes that I had brought. So, this tells me that I have been overly excessive in my life.

GOD:

This one was also a huge internal crisis for me. Long story short: God appears in many very unusual and mystifying ways. To define 'God' would be to put him in a box. And as a finite human, that is a very dumb thing to do, as it is obvious my tiny intellect cannot handle such a vast concept. Personally, I think that even if a person did not believe in an omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient being, they would come to believe in one just by being with the people I had the extreme privilege to meet. And not always because the people I met were "Christians", but because they were completely and totally human. This level of interaction, and the honesty (or faults, as it may have been at times) left no doubt in my mind that these people were creations of a God. My favorite prof at Spring Arbor would corroborate my revelation, telling me I was seeing the imago dei, or the image of God in every person I met.

ME:

I'm okay with me now. Of course, many things have happened in the last month to make me okay with me. I have a better grasp of my many attributes and talents, and a better grasp of my faults. They are now a work in progress. I have accepted myself with both my likes/dislikes, my strengths/weaknesses, and my past/present/future, and I fully intend to move forward on this knowledge and self-reflection.

These were my biggest issues. With the help of family and friends, I have put into practice a theory I learned in one of my COM classes: Cognitive Dissonance. It states that where practice and belief come in conflict, either the practice will be changed, or the belief will be changed. Thus I have undergone a sort of transformation.

Perhaps I will touch again on this topic later. But for now, this post is long enough!

More Reflections

Hello, friends and family!

I didn't realize how much of a following I had generated with my blogs until you all said something. Here I was thinking I was writing to a wall (what a concept, as my blog has 'posts'...), and all the time I was really reaching people. What an honor.

So, I'm still adjusting, whatever that means. And I'm trying not to scare my parents silly. Honestly. The unfortunate part is that it's becoming a full-time engagement.

Why is it that questions scare? Is it just that they face the unknown in asking, or is it more that the pressure is on to answer correctly? If I question the meaning of life, does that imply that I want to end my own, or can it be assumed that I'm purely curious?

I don't question everything, just somethings. I'm content with not knowing. There's a quote from John Stam on his second lecture to our class in Costa Rica that comes to my mind now:

   "Maturity is being able to live with varying degrees of security. Immaturity comes from wanting to be totally sure of everything."

Do I agree? Well, in some way, the man has a point. Besides, how will I ever know truth if I don't question what I hear? I said 'truth' with a lowercase 't' because I meant it as a 'relevant truth'. How will I ever know?

One of the things that I've struggled with the most (and seriously, friends, I will probably use this same term for about thirty other things I have struggled with) is the concept of right and wrong. I believe that there is a definite Right in some things, as well as there is a definite Wrong. However, there will also be cases where a rigid judgment will not suffice. Then, of course, as a young individual with a spirit, I want to find the Right because I believe it is a good, sturdy, and moral thing to do. So I study. What I find in my studies confuses me, so I will come to question both my studies, and my previously conceived notions. What I gain from this (besides Experience) is Knowledge. Allow me to expound on my views of Knowledge: Adam and Eve wanted Knowledge. What happened to them? They died.

So now, it begs the question: Is Knowledge good? Is Knowledge Right? If, as a Christian, I can believe the Bible when it said that Eve wanted to be like God, so she ate from the Tree, and gave some to Adam, causing them both to sin, it can be clearly implied that Knowledge is Wrong. However, especially in the New Testament, the entire purpose of Jesus' sermons was Understanding. Are the two different, or virtually the same?

On a random aside: This is why I love language. Words mean things. I want to mean something when I open my mouth, or when I put my pen to paper, or when I type out a post for my blog. If I did not change something by writing, I wouldn't do it. If I could not help direct another person's thoughts down a different path by opening my mouth, I wouldn't speak. I choose every word carefully, hoping that you, Dear Reader, will gain a better view of what my message is trying to convey.

These ARE really random.

Have a nice day!

Questions

Sigh.

The Questions have started.

"How are you adjusting back, Elise?"

"How was your experience, Elise?"

"What kinds of people did you meet, Elise?"

"Isn't poverty terrible? I'm sure you saw lots of that!"

What am I supposed to say??

"Adjusting is...difficult, because I'm struggling with the pro side to materialism..."

"My experience was life-changing because I learned how deeply I can love, and the chasm left by that love..."

"I met people in their own environments, in their own home, in their own culture, and surprise! They look like us..."

"I did not see poverty, however, I saw lots of people who were surviving, and people who chose their 'poverty' over something they felt was corrupt..."

I don't know if I'm ready yet, for these questions. Mainly because I feel my answers could be considered a 'burn', if you know what I mean, Dear Reader. And to be true, I've been asked the "How was your experience" question at least 5 times at church today, and every time, I came up with a different adjective. And, a different reason for that adjective.

In our "Re-Entry" workshops we did right before returning home, it was more or less decided as a group that we didn't want to shrink our experiences down to a word--what an insult that would be! And here I am, trying to find a sentence or two that conveys my extreme passion for the trip, outlines my experiences, and does justice to the people I met. Haven't come up with one yet, big surprise.

What's worse, every single time I see someone new who just discovered I was away for a semester (courtesy of my wonderful mother, who is just so excited that I'm back she wants to tell the world...) they ask the same questions. And every time they begin to ask, my stomach muscles actually tighten up with anxiety. I've never been prone to anxiety attacks in their formidable stages, but I really feel uncomfortable.

Regardless, I'm almost trying to make myself face people I know, because it isn't fair to them if I hide out for a month. But I'm trying to reveal myself one step at a time, and to specific people.

Hmmm.

Writing really does help; I feel much less conflicted in the mental area (although the emotional conflict continues to rage...).

I hope everyone has a wonderful night, and I promise, eventually I'll start writing happy again. Just, now, I need to analyze.

Good night! 

Back to Reality

Wow.

That's all I can say. Wow.

They warned us about "reverse culture shock". They even warned us that our newfound "truths" may scare our parents silly.

They forgot to mention, that my newfound "truths" would scare me silly.

What do I believe now? I'm still trying to figure it out. I have new views and old views on the poor, a blanket statement about economy, and I have inadvertently become very political. The thing is, I think I had many of the same views before; everything now is just an extension, or a detailed concentration of previous view holdings. Before, I was loathe to pick fights on everything I believed; now, I still don't like it, but I have a different view of silence that I didn't before. I'm not going to be dumb and pick fights with people on un-answerable topics, like politics, religion, and philosophy of life. I'm just not going to let others assume they can win me over. It really irks me when a person will throw out their viewpoint and then expect me to help them defend it solely because I may (or may not) support that view.

I'm a little hesitant about posting some of my beliefs here for two reasons: 1. because they are written, they can be taken out of context and used against me in ways I never meant them to be used (yeah, that hasn't happened before...). 2. This is the internet. I can only imagine what a future boss will think when he looks up my name and finds this blog. Also, no one asked. Even though this is my blog, I would rather write about readable things. Not topics that will cause a person to give an exasperated sigh before hitting the scroll button until the topic is finished.

Anyway, I digress: Now that I'm "home", I don't know how I fit in. My family is overjoyed to have me (they tell me so), but I don't feel like I belong completely. Remember in a previous post, I mentioned how I left a good half of me in Costa Rica? I feel that way especially now, now that I can no longer talk to my friends there face to face. I also happened to return as the rat race was starting the next heat--what am I going to do this summer?? Now I have to make plans to take classes, intern, get a job...the list goes on.

By the way, I hate taxes. They really ruin my happiness and sunshine.

I'll probably keep using this outlet to "process" as it was called by LASP.

Sigh.

I hate "To Do" lists, too.

Have a wonderful day! To all my English-speaking Tico friends, ¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Final Thoughts

Dear Family and Friends,

I don't know what to say. I have lived with people, I have talked to people, I have eaten their food, slept in their beds, I have tried to see their world through their eyes.

What should I say? There is nothing that can express both the fulfilling happiness of being in Latin America, and the dizzying chasm of emptiness at the thought of leaving.

It's like I found my other half, here, where I least expected it to be. I am okay with myself now--more complete, more open, more accepting. I'll be honest, I've changed. I don't know what the change is, but I know it's there.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited to go home. Home.
Yes, I am.
I also wish dearly that I could stay for just a little longer.

They say "home is where the heart is". I am torn. Where is my heart now? It is with the family and friends I will see again, but it is also with the "family" and friends that I may not see again.

I've been given much to think about.
I don't know how to sort it out.

I'm glad I have questions. I would rather not know what to do all the time. Sometimes it frustrates me that I know myself so well.

Home.

It's hard to meet people and then leave them.

Home.
Yes, I am happy.
Yes, I am sad.

Thank you. Thank you everyone who has supported me from the start. Thank you new friends, thank you old friends. Thank you family. Thank you for allowing me a glimpse of the world through your eyes. What a privilege I've been given.

I hate goodbyes.

Home.

We're flying to Miami tomorrow. This is my last night in Central America.
I don't know what to think.
I don't know what to say.

If only I could have both.

I'm ready. Again.

Thank you. Good bye.

Sincerely,
Elise Arvidson

Saying Goodbye

I was able to meet up with some of our good friends from Grecia on Friday and Saturday. We went to the Jazz Café (really awesome!) and then visited a museum on Saturday.

It was so hard to say goodbye and walk away. If I could have, I would have enrolled for a year at the University of Costa Rica; this "meet-people-and-leave-them" business is taking its toll, especially with people that I could definitely consider being good friends with (P.S. When you read this, you'll know who you are!). I returned to the house in San José, and after having some soup, I claimed I was tired, went to bed around 5:30 p.m. and cried. I haven't cried like that since I came to this country, but I felt my heart breaking. Doña Isabel came into my room and told me that some friends from the youth group here in San José wanted to come and pray for me. I told her it was alright. I cried during that session too.

What is Love? The force single-handedly responsible for such close ties among strangers; for such connection. I love communication. I study communication. In my short time, I declare it is Love that causes and aids any sort of communication in this regard to studies. Love of culture; Love of difference; Love of people. Truth be told, I'm attached. I would love to live in Costa Rica. My host brother Esteban keeps telling me not to leave, because he'll miss how I laugh. Everyone else in my family tells me the house will be depressingly quiet because I won't be around to liven it up. Talk about guilt trips!

I tried packing today. Also one of the most depressing things I've done here besides cry. I actually searched the premises to find my possessions--I didn't realize I spread so much. I'm running out of space, and I'm considering leaving the family with something of mine, except that I'm such a light packer, everything I own (more or less) is something I need and use, and anything else isn't enough of me that I could leave it for sentimental value. Bother practicality!

We leave in the morning.

Please, pray not only for me and the group as we travel to Panama, but for the friends and families we're leaving behind us to do so. I won't be writing for the next week, so I wish everyone a happy week, and I thank you, Dear Readers, for reading.

Looks like this post is long enough.

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part III

Okay, first off, so sorry that this is late in coming. Last week, I came to the internet café and discovered my email inbox was full with 36-some messages, at least 10 of which were sent by the Postmaster warning me that my inbox was full. Oh life.
Second, I just discovered this, but Blogger has a email inbox for me too: elise.arvidson.thought-isms@blogger.com . Cool. Please, for the remainder of the trip, if there are any questions, thoughts, comments or anything even remotely resembling feedback to my blog, please use the above address so that my school inbox isn't clogged all the time...not that I've gotten much feedback...
Third, I made it back from Grecia, and am in San José (also called San Ho by some in our group), and am going to be near a computer UNTIL MONDAY!!! Just so's you know.

Now, table of contents:
· Northamerican--Latinamerican relations and their strains
· 5 things I have learned about me
· 5 things I have learned about others

We're good.

RELATIONS:
One thing to remember in another country is that actions speak louder than words, whether the message sent was intended or not. Some of the "strain" of Northamerican and Latinamerican relations stems from both a disregard of the above, and limited mindset of the other culture/person/etc. Hispanic culture is very indirect, as I've mentioned previously. The meanings, the direction and the commands are all understood, but not necessarily expressed. Because Northamerican culture is rather more direct, often, a foreigner can seem rude, unsympathetic, and completely oblivious to social codes and implications. This, obviously, causes much stress on both ends unless each side is willing to be flexible and forgive. As a foreigner in this country, it would be my mortal embarrassment to offend my host family in any way, as they've offered me a home, food, and anything else I need. Therefore, although I have a direct manner in asking for something I would like (for example: going with some friends to a concert and spending the night over there since it will be late) I need to ask it as though it all depended on my host parents. I need to ask their permission even though I am of age, and everyone with me is a responsable adult like me. The way I ask is indirect. If I were to say "I am going with so-and-so and so-and-so to this-and-such a concert on Friday, and I will be spending the night," my host parents will likely feel as though I am taking advantage of their good grace to do whatever I please. They may also feel that by expressing this, I am hinting that I prefer the company of my friends I've known for a little while over the company of the family that is housing me. Does this make sense? A much pleasanter way to say the same thing is "Some of my friends and I wanted to go to this concert, but it will be too late to come home. We might be able to spend the night there, but what would you suggest?" This opens it up for the family heads to give an opinion and not feel as though I am taking advantage of them. Also, I am letting them know that I would like to be with friends, but respect the decision of their family. "Strain" is only the result of not trying to appease the other but stubbornly sticking to one's own ways.
Which leads me to continue...

5 THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT ME:
1. Patience is both my greatest strength and my biggest fault
2. I am a contextual learner. If I come across a word I don't understand, I listen to the context to get the bigger picture, and define words by their connotations in which I hear them used. This is why I've been having a mental block with grammar lessons, because each word is crucial.
3. I am very forgetful of little things, even when I try so hard to remember, but able to memorize passages of readings solely because I found them interesting.
4. I become angry when communicational flow stops, i.e. when conversation turns into monologue, or when discussion becomes argument.
5. I can look at the mammals/insects/reptiles, I can smell the mammals/insects/reptiles, I can get close to the mammals/insects/reptiles, but if they jump on me in any way, I cannot stand it.

5 THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT OTHERS:
1. Laughter is indeed the best medicine
2. Love is eating yucca casserole (even though you despise it) solely because your host mom made it just for you when you came home. Profound love is having two pieces.
3. Natives will often "use" a foreigner for "language practice", even though they know less of the foreigner's language than the foreigner knows of theirs.
4. Host families are like flowers: sunny smiles, showers of compliments, and fertil trust make the relationship grow.
5. Everyone has a limited point of view, because everyone has had a limited life. Therefore, foreigners will often be judged based on this view. Flexibility in all things is key.
BONUS
6. As a foreigner, natives either assume that the foreigner knows absolutely nothing about the native's culture, or that the foreigner is well versed in the lives, events and other random details of everyone in the foreigner's home country. We keep having to explain that the United States is much bigger than Costa Rica, and that it is impossible to know the lives of everyone else in the States...

Well, this post's long enough. I will try to upload my pictures tomorrow!
Have a wonderful evening!

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part II

Hello again! I hope this finds everyone well and happy!

I have more -itos in the interest of time:

QUESTIONS:
It seems that Spanish-speakers must learn different nonverbal cues than English-speakers. One of my main ires is that I'm constantly unsure when I've been asked a question. I am actually listening to the sound of the speakers voice, and waiting for it to go up at the end to signal a question. No such thing. Or at least, not all the time. And when I ask if the speaker was directing their speech at me, the speaker will take the question as though I either didn't pay attention, or I did not understand a word. They will often repeat the "question" exactly how they did before, without the tell-tale nonverbal cue. Again, I ask if this statement they've made is a question. And yet again, they will try to explain it to me. The joke is this, I understand perfectly the words they have chosen to express themselves. What I don't get is what they are expecting as a result of these words!! Oh well.

FINISHED SENTENCES:
Also, along those lines, it appears that people who live within the same regional group and see each other for most of their lives don't finish certain sentences. Not all, but many. And yet, everyone born in the same region understands perfectly these partial thoughts. It helps to keep in mind that Spanish is a high-context language, where few words are needed to effectively get a point across. However, because I am a contextual learner, I need the context to understand.

PREPARED ANSWERS:
I find it easier to speak in Spanish about something with which I am very familiar versus improvisational speaking. This is very natural for learned speakers.

SAYINGS:
One of the sayings most used that I've heard in Grecia is "¡Que espanto!" which literally means, "What a scare!" It is used like the expression, "Oh for Pete's sake!"

GRAMMAR:
Also in Grecia, I've noticed that most of the people use the verb acordar as a synonym for the verb recordar. This is unusual to me because I'm used to acordar having a connotation of putting one's mind on something, and recordar having the connotation of only remembering.

OVENS:
The kitchen's hidden cookie jar (when not in use).

GAS STATIONS:
There are service gas stations here, meaning, there is no such concept as "self-serve".

SUGARCANE:
Sugarcane here grows in fields like corn grows in Indiana. And the smell of the molasses when the cane is burned in the graneries is overpowering--it smells good in small amounts, but not all at once.

DOORKNOBS:
The only doorknobs I've seen in this country are generally on the front door. All other doors have locks that slide.

I'm out of time!! Next time I'll expound on Northamerican/Latinamerican relationships here in Grecia. We have some stories to tell...

Have a wonderful day!!

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part I

Well, since I wasn't able to write about Nicaragua entirely before coming to Grecia, sorry, but I'm going to save that for later--remind me!!!

One thing I'm going to say about Grecia is this: foliage. Holy cow, I didn't know there were that many different plants in the world, let alone one province of a country...

BUSES:
In San José, all the buses have only two columns of seats going from the front of the bus to the back. There are two seats in each row with an aisle down the middle (except for the very back of the bus where there are five or six seats along that far wall). Here in Grecia, it seems that every bus I've ridden has two columns of seats, but with three seats per row on the left side of the bus. And golly, does it get crowded.

KETCHUP:
It's amazing the number of food possibilities that open up to you when you stop using ketchup as only a condiment and start using it as a sauce... It's not that bad either.

SALAD:
Here, there seem to be two different types of salad, just like in San José. One is the salad that most northamericans are used to, the kind with lettuce. In Costa Rica, the Ticos shred raw cabbage. It gives the salad a little extra kick. Especially when topped with mayonaise and ketchup.

I would like to explain what I'm doing here in Grecia for those of you who don't know: I am working at a local business doing whatever jobs they have for me to better practice speaking. I am actually working in a private school's bio lab testing samples of soil from all over the world, and sending them back. My first day, the gentleman in charge of my work didn't arrive for a long time, so I cleaned everything. Not so hard. I have classes Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the church, but work Mon, Thurs, and Fri.
My host mom is so nice! She practically begs me to eat, so I oblige...

I'll have to write more later--I'm in an internet café and can only afford an hour at a time...
I miss you all!

Nicaragua: Part III

So, more -itos:

GRAFFITTI:
Amazingly enough, it's in Managua too!!! And also amazing, it isn't just graffitti, it's propaganda. Everything from the youth comments in red, black, or whatever color, to the pink and yellow posters of Daniel Ortega's face, with slogans like "With God, we can overcome" and "You see, Sandino? We've made it this far!" While I don't oppose a personal faith, many Nicas think that Ortega is only using God to get a leg-up. Apparently, his beliefs weren't so prevalent the first time he ran for the presidency. But no joke, the propaganda is everywhere. The posters were starting to remind me of George Orwell's 1984 and "Big Brother". It was creepy.

ABORTION:
Illegal in this country too, but unlike Costa Rica, there are no provisions for rape or in cases where the mother's or baby's life is at stake. Critics say Ortega implemented this new law to get more support from the Catholic Church.

MURALS:
None that I saw, except for a Catholic church we visited. The shape of the church was circular, and in the 80s the church leaders wanted to express the history of Nicaragua through a faith perspective, so they had two artists paint a mural on every panel of the circular walls. Fascinating stuff.

After staying in the Centro Nehemias until Wed. 4 March, our group was splitting up to go on the home stay trips. I was with a group leaving at 4 a.m. for one of the most remote parts of the Nicaraguan campo where we would most likely be cut off from all modernization. I'm not exactly sure how I was arranged in that group; I remember saying I would rather a town, or something in between the two... Either way, I made sure my things were packed. I must clarify: the entire LASP population of 47-some students was split into "town" or "campo" home stays. Among those, we were 12 smaller groups, based on the proximity of the families with whom we were living. For example, I was in group #1 with three other students whose families lived near mine and went to the same church.
I woke up at the right time, took my shower, ate breakfast, and left with the group to go to the bus station. I started to feel nauseous on the school bus though, which is weird for me because I usually only get motion-sickness during the day. As soon as we got to the bus yard, and I got off of the bus, I felt instantly fine, which is also weird. We crossed the yard, and no sooner had I put my foot on the bottom step of the bus taking us to the campo, I felt oddly sick again. I thought it would go away, so I climbed up slowely with the other students who were busy finding their seats. I got half-way down the aisle, when I realized that I wasn't going to make it. I was somehow able to communicate this to one of our teachers who was standing right next to me, and she ushered me off the bus through the back door, where I promptly lost my breakfast next to a small palm tree. The teachers were going to send me back, but I didn't want cop out, so I insisted I was fine. I re-boarded, but all the seats were taken except for the front. I sat there while we waited for the bus to leave (it was still boarding passengers). That's when I started feeling jabs of pain inside of me. They would come and go, and although I really wanted to go on the trip, the mounting sharpness scared me: I did not want to be infected with some sort of bacteria and not know about it! I admitted defeat. My teachers took me off the bus and called another to come pick me up at the bus yard so I could go with the last group of students leaving for the "town". Once off, I felt instantly better again, although that feeling was quickly replaced with shame and terror. Shame because it made me think I could have made it, and I was unwilling to try, and terror because I would be sitting in the public waiting area before dawn while everyone I knew left me behind them.

It turned out all right though, but this is where I stop (it's like a chapter book, isn't it?) because this post is long enough : )

Nicaragua: Part II

So, we were discussing politics.

This is Nicaragua's flag:

It was adopted in 1971, according to this website. With the creation of the FSLN (Frente Sandinista Liberación Nacional), Nicaragua underwent a major civil war. The Sandinista Front needed a banner under which to march:

or

The group was started by Carlos Fonseca against the Somoza dictatorships. Like I said, there was a war. When the FSLN's candidate Daniel Ortega won the presidency in 1984, it was declared a victory of the Revolution. After Daniel Ortega's first term, he ended up losing 3 consecutive times. It was after the third, legend has it, that Ortega actually asked a Northamerican interior designer what was wrong with his approach to politics that he wasn't winning. The designer thought it was the colors of the FSLN flag Ortega sported on his platform--the colors were too bold. With that, Ortega changed the "official" colors to a baby pink and Easter yellow. They can be seen on all propaganda signs throughout the city. (Please visit this site for more Nicaraguan political flags).

______________________________________________________

UPDATE: There is also a theory about Ortega's wife, Rosario Murillo, being the cause for the change. Murillo is well known for her jumbled theology that mixes the teachings of Indian Guru Sai Baba, the teachings of Jesus Christ, Gen. Sandino's personal philosophy, and some native indigenous beliefs. According to the theory, she suggested the change to pastels because they channel positive energy.

_______________________________________________________

After Ortega won the presidency again in 2006, a small group of Sandinistas broke off of the main group. They call themselves the Movimiento Renovación Sandinista (MRS), or the Sandinista Renovation Movement. Their new colors are orange and black, but I couldn't find a picture on the web...

Led by Dora María Tellez, who fought as a guerrilla in the FSLN, the party protests Ortega's presidency, saying it is becoming a dictatorship.

This post is long enough! Next up: more -itos!