Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!
So I'm one week from heading home...which is exciting, and weird, and terrifying, and sad, and a lot of other things. This week I find myself quoting this rather (nerd)famous line from a favorite TV series, Firefly:
Mostly as it relates to my suitcases. I mean, I was hopeful that all my stuff would fit. Insanely, unrealistically hopeful, as it turns out. However, much like the T-rex, the suitcases have only done what they always do: not get magically bigger. So I suppose the fault is mine in my unrealistically optimistic estimations of stuff vs space.
I think the most difficult part of leaving is not the going. It is knowing that it will be quite a while before I'm ever able to return, and that it will be different even if I do come back to visit. It is about knowing that this experience is closing, never to be repeated. But the reality is that this sentiment holds true for every year of my life, and every big choice, even the ones that seem less extreme or even mundane. So part of this experience is also to realize that I have always taken what ought to be magical moments and treated them as passing intermediary steps, missing out on the practice of accepting them as they are, and finding what I can learn from them. I think this is probably a common trend, especially in developmentally significant years, in times of great transitions (like your 20s), and even in the church.
We want to skip nap time and be a first grader. We are eager to leave elementary life for the glory of middle school. And as soon as we get a taste of middle school (a time frame I did not particularly enjoy) we look forward to high school. Once in high school, we just want to be able to get a driver's license, or be a senior, but once there, all we see is the future of college, or jobs, or leaving home. And we leave, just to immediately be preoccupied with doing all we can to be successful finding a job, getting a promotion, starting a family, buying cars and houses.
With YASC, I learned a lot about how to appreciate this moment, right now, and try not to focus ahead, because I'll miss something. Although, as my mother and early teachers can verify, I never disliked naps (come to think of it, some of my high school teachers and college roommates can verify that fact as well...oops #NoShameInMyNapGame). This appreciation is still one I struggle with, especially because it is mandatory with my health. I literally have no guarantees of how I'll feel tomorrow, or what capacity I'll have to do things. It's still early with this whole process, so I don't yet know what my triggers might be for migraines, fatigue, or pain flares. However, just like the rest of this experience, the best way to be ready for whatever comes tomorrow, is to really observe everything happening now. Documenting symptoms and activities means I can better track my past evidence to predict better what is and is not good for me in the future.
Often I feel like the anticipation of what's to come is a heavy weight in the church as well. There are plenty of jokes and memes about getting through the Ordinary time in the liturgical calendar to get to the excitement and anticipation of Advent, but then we blow through Advent spending so much time focused solely on Christmas. Others might prefer to have done with Epiphany because they want to get to Lent, but that always seems to fly by until it's already Easter. On a larger scale, I've heard Episco-lifers say that they look forward to next year because they prefer Year B to A, or whatever the preference. And in the broader sense of Christianity, many will skip verses, chapters, or even whole books just to get to the one passage that supports their view/argument.
There's a bit of irony to all of this, I suppose, and being the nerd that I am, I'll give you another nerdy visual that's been modified from another nerd classic:
So the irony is that we almost always have older individuals (siblings, parents, teachers, babysitters, church members, random people in grocery stores...whatever) who blatantly tell us to not focus on the future at the expense of cherishing the present. And do we ever listen??? nope
Most of us cherish the moments in retrospect only. And for this I'd like to use the Brazilian phrase: "Que chato?!" (it tends to denote a combination of the English sentiments of: "That sucks", "Bummer", and "How rude")
I speak on my own experiences, but I also have seen this reflected in the other YASCers and former YASCers I've encountered: this program is a fairly good treatment for this preoccupation with what's coming.
So now, in addition to making it a permanent change in myself, as someone who likes to work with kids and youth, I'm going to be envisioning ways to provide education and experiences to promote this idea of mindfulness with them. Largely, the US culture lacks this in daily settings. Places like the wonderful Holy Cross Monastery (where YASC did our discernment and training sessions) are so beloved because they offer exactly this mindfulness opportunity. So I want to seek to listen for ideas and opportunities to expand the offerings like those I've been so changed by, to younger audiences, more often, more purposeful, and more Christ-centered (I do like Yoga and meditation, but often the easiest resources for them offer no inclusion or support for Christian faith unless modified).
[Also note, that with the end of this time, that means there's a new year's worth of YASCers out, or almost out, in the worldwide Anglican communion. So I've updated my Prayers and YASC page, so you can stay tuned to the continuation of this program. I've subscribed to all of them already, and I enjoy the stories and adventures they are already having, and know all too well the situation of waiting for those who have yet to head out. I doubt they'll ever see this, and are likely wondering why they have website hits from Brazil, but that's just how it is.]
Mostly as it relates to my suitcases. I mean, I was hopeful that all my stuff would fit. Insanely, unrealistically hopeful, as it turns out. However, much like the T-rex, the suitcases have only done what they always do: not get magically bigger. So I suppose the fault is mine in my unrealistically optimistic estimations of stuff vs space.
I think the most difficult part of leaving is not the going. It is knowing that it will be quite a while before I'm ever able to return, and that it will be different even if I do come back to visit. It is about knowing that this experience is closing, never to be repeated. But the reality is that this sentiment holds true for every year of my life, and every big choice, even the ones that seem less extreme or even mundane. So part of this experience is also to realize that I have always taken what ought to be magical moments and treated them as passing intermediary steps, missing out on the practice of accepting them as they are, and finding what I can learn from them. I think this is probably a common trend, especially in developmentally significant years, in times of great transitions (like your 20s), and even in the church.
We want to skip nap time and be a first grader. We are eager to leave elementary life for the glory of middle school. And as soon as we get a taste of middle school (a time frame I did not particularly enjoy) we look forward to high school. Once in high school, we just want to be able to get a driver's license, or be a senior, but once there, all we see is the future of college, or jobs, or leaving home. And we leave, just to immediately be preoccupied with doing all we can to be successful finding a job, getting a promotion, starting a family, buying cars and houses.
With YASC, I learned a lot about how to appreciate this moment, right now, and try not to focus ahead, because I'll miss something. Although, as my mother and early teachers can verify, I never disliked naps (come to think of it, some of my high school teachers and college roommates can verify that fact as well...oops #NoShameInMyNapGame). This appreciation is still one I struggle with, especially because it is mandatory with my health. I literally have no guarantees of how I'll feel tomorrow, or what capacity I'll have to do things. It's still early with this whole process, so I don't yet know what my triggers might be for migraines, fatigue, or pain flares. However, just like the rest of this experience, the best way to be ready for whatever comes tomorrow, is to really observe everything happening now. Documenting symptoms and activities means I can better track my past evidence to predict better what is and is not good for me in the future.
Often I feel like the anticipation of what's to come is a heavy weight in the church as well. There are plenty of jokes and memes about getting through the Ordinary time in the liturgical calendar to get to the excitement and anticipation of Advent, but then we blow through Advent spending so much time focused solely on Christmas. Others might prefer to have done with Epiphany because they want to get to Lent, but that always seems to fly by until it's already Easter. On a larger scale, I've heard Episco-lifers say that they look forward to next year because they prefer Year B to A, or whatever the preference. And in the broader sense of Christianity, many will skip verses, chapters, or even whole books just to get to the one passage that supports their view/argument.
There's a bit of irony to all of this, I suppose, and being the nerd that I am, I'll give you another nerdy visual that's been modified from another nerd classic:So the irony is that we almost always have older individuals (siblings, parents, teachers, babysitters, church members, random people in grocery stores...whatever) who blatantly tell us to not focus on the future at the expense of cherishing the present. And do we ever listen??? nope
Most of us cherish the moments in retrospect only. And for this I'd like to use the Brazilian phrase: "Que chato?!" (it tends to denote a combination of the English sentiments of: "That sucks", "Bummer", and "How rude")
I speak on my own experiences, but I also have seen this reflected in the other YASCers and former YASCers I've encountered: this program is a fairly good treatment for this preoccupation with what's coming.
So now, in addition to making it a permanent change in myself, as someone who likes to work with kids and youth, I'm going to be envisioning ways to provide education and experiences to promote this idea of mindfulness with them. Largely, the US culture lacks this in daily settings. Places like the wonderful Holy Cross Monastery (where YASC did our discernment and training sessions) are so beloved because they offer exactly this mindfulness opportunity. So I want to seek to listen for ideas and opportunities to expand the offerings like those I've been so changed by, to younger audiences, more often, more purposeful, and more Christ-centered (I do like Yoga and meditation, but often the easiest resources for them offer no inclusion or support for Christian faith unless modified).
[Also note, that with the end of this time, that means there's a new year's worth of YASCers out, or almost out, in the worldwide Anglican communion. So I've updated my Prayers and YASC page, so you can stay tuned to the continuation of this program. I've subscribed to all of them already, and I enjoy the stories and adventures they are already having, and know all too well the situation of waiting for those who have yet to head out. I doubt they'll ever see this, and are likely wondering why they have website hits from Brazil, but that's just how it is.]
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