My carpe diem disposition (Part Two).

Here are some of the ways this disposition plays out.

So at first this may sound a little morbid, but I actively try to be keenly aware that I may die today or tomorrow...in as healthy a way as I possibly can with the Spirit's guidance.  In many ways (though not always) I let it shape my decisions, my attitudes, and how I treat other people.  And like all disciplines, it's a process of progress that starts somewhere.

Sometimes when I get into a car (especially as a driver), or onto a plane, or cross a street, or walk into a building, or have a conversation with people, I ask myself, "If I were to die in an accident, or someone attacked me, or whatever natural circumstances happened that I would die right now/today/tomorrow, would I be able to stand before God and that to the best of my knowledge and control, say to Him that I have been obedient and faithful?  Would I be satisfied with the general direction of my life in big-picture ways and the way I'm responding in day-to-day situations?"*

It doesn't mean I let worry, anxiety, or fear of dying take over me in a way that drives me to a kind of behavior that does everything in my power to avoid the chance of death (i.e. staying home all the time instead of going out, not learning to drive, not traveling).  Nor does it mean I push hard to live a life of ultimate dreams and perfection every single day because I'm messed up, people are messed up, and the world is messed up.  I think both of those mentalities come from a sense of unreasonable pride and control that dismisses trust in God's sovereignty or the depth of God's grace.

There isn't a higher standard to live by but rather a different perspective to live by - I don't live as though I've got all the time in the world or that I have to have complete control over everyone and everything.  I have the freedom to get angry or upset or frustrated or stressed at someone or some situation, but I train myself to keep in mind the brevity of life, which reminds me not to develop bitterness in my heart, to address those conflicts (as small or large as they may be) without putting it off or avoiding them, and to extend and receive forgiveness and love.

And one more thing I've been reminded of recently that compounds this disposition is that as Christians, we are called to live faithfully, not "successfully" to Him.  We are not defined by our achievements or failures.  God's love, grace and mercy are not earned or changed by our efforts or what we produce.

Greg Jao came to speak a few weeks ago and he posed the question, "Would you rather your daughter live scared or scarred?"  And though I grew up in an environment and have a personality that is predisposed to live a scared life for myself and for my loved ones, I am choosing to live a life that may be scarred from the falls of taking risks.  It's not easy and I don't always joyfully choose it, but with God's help I desire to make the most of the opportunity I've been given to live another day.

*Footnote:  I don't really know how to phrase this question well.  On the one hand, I don't want to say, "Would I be satisfied with the way I lived out my life?" because I knew that I am an imperfect being living in an imperfect world I would never be fully satisfied with the way I lived out my life.  On the other hand I also don't want to say, "Would I be satisfied with the way I was striving to live out my life?" because it gives the sense that I was only trying or  dreaming but not really acting upon those things as if they were or could be the reality.  At the same time, there's also this complicated concept of "control" and how much control I have on my life and God has on my life in big things and small things, and where all those unknown factors come into play.  So really, that question is somewhere in the middle.  I just don't know how to phrase it well.

My carpe diem disposition (Part One).

So here it is:

Why should we have to wait for tragedy to strike too close to home before we're driven to live the life we would live if it was our last day on earth?

I've read enough of the Bible, have seen enough movies and tv shows and heard enough stories from strangers,  friends, and watching or reading the news to know that life is short.  As someone not directly connected to those stories or situations, we may respond with a moment of shock or horror, but I think to a certain extent we've become desensitized to this reality - especially for those of us, like myself, who tend to be pretty removed from these situations.

I don't know what it feels like to lose a loved one.  I can guess, I can imagine, I can try, but I honestly cannot deeply identify.  Emotionally I've lost some dear friends whose friendships I've cared deeply about, but it's a very different kind of experience.  In fact, the worst thing I could probably say to someone who lost a loved one is to say, "I totally understand," because that's a lie, and more often than not (though I can't assume everyone) people, especially if they're in a vulnerable and sensitive situations, do not appreciate being lied to.

Now, I'm not as well-read of a writer as people think I am (because of the assumptions associated with being a previous English major with a Creative Writing concentration and my general enjoyment of reading), and I'm not chock full of a ton of life experiences, but from my general (very general, I must emphasize) sense of the world, death changes the lives of those he or she had been connected to.  Whether people's lives were touched negatively or positively (and sometimes neutrally), they are changed when someone who was connected (even if only by a thread) their life is suddenly gone.

Often a basic storyline provides the sense that at first glance, death smothers the chance of hope.  It's often why I believe there's a sense of regret or guilt or sadness or anger from the one(s) still living - because they weren't satisfied with the way things were and now there is absolutely no chance for it to change.

But then the journey towards the climax and resolution of the story begins to unfold the truth that the character somehow does change - it may be a positive change or negative change, big or small, but it happens - and it happens in a way that makes one wonder if it would have happened if that death had not taken place.

The inspiring stories inspire us because of the positive impact they have and positive change they bring as a result of someone's life and death.  For some it is a life-changing inspiration, but for many of us it's a short boost of bliss to get us through another day.

So I've wrestled with this before and thought, "Well, I'm someone who keeps jumping on the bandwagon of bliss and then jumps off when life gets tough or the daily grind makes me forget.  Would my life look different if I knew I or someone I loved dearly was going to die today or tomorrow?  Heck yes.  My life would probably look better, in fact."

And then I'd ask myself, "Well, why should I have to wait until I or someone I care about comes close to death before I am driven to live the life I believe I want/should/need to live?"  It seemed like to me, the fact of the reality is that we come close to death everyday.  It's actually a miracle we get to wake up the next morning.

I heard this once (though I think worded a little differently):  we often ask God why people had to die, but we should really be praising God for His mercy and grace to let us live!  Think about these familiar lyrics:  Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!  God is sovereign - He ultimately decides what to give and take away.

This is why uncovering my duplicity became so important to me and why I desire (though it doesn't always play out) to live an authentic life full of integrity and risks worthy to be taken.  In order to fight the disparity of saying I believe something and then not acting upon it, I've slowly been disciplining myself to undergo a lifestyle that reflects the life I would pursue if I had very little time left.  That discipline is why I wrestle with moving past my fears and strive, as difficult as it may be, not to be paralyzed by them.

I've shown this in a previous blog post (a LONG time ago), but I thought it was applicable enough to this particular post.

Uncovering my duplicity.

In high school, I was tired.  I had emotionally stretched myself so much that my rubber band life seemed to snap a sigh of relief as I graduated from high school and entered college.  I was physically tired, tired of working so hard to maintain and develop relationships, tired of leading other people who seemed willing to follow me until things got hard as if they didn't seem to desire change as much as I did.

But at some point (more like a long process) after graduating and as I entered college, I began to realize that essentially I was tired of living a double life: in many ways the person I was when I interacted with people was not the same person I was when I was by myself.  It wasn't a drastic difference, as if I was pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  My outward persona said to the world that I could juggle a multitude of tasks and responsibilities because I was strong; my mentality around others told me that crying, saying "no," or admitting that I couldn't handle it all were signs of weakness.  On the other hand, my emotion and perspective of my heart said:  I can't possibly do everything; even if I shared my pain with others, there are others who are actually going through worse things than me, so my problems are less important or valid and people are counting on me to encourage them, be "good" and do the right thing all the time; I'm so tired...I'm so, so tired; why doesn't anyone reach out to me or care enough about me to check in with me and see how I'm doing?

God led me through a process around that time that helped me begin to see that I was my own problem.  I also realized voices from who knows where (society? the Enemy? culture?) in my head were feeding me lies and I was consuming them like popcorn during a movie.  My eyes began to see that I wasn't living a life full of integrity, and the problem wasn't that people didn't care about me.  Of course people cared about me.  I had just set some unrealistic expectations that they were going to recognize and rescue me from every moment of weakness or pain.  I expected those close to me to meet my every need.

I also began to realize that I was not only setting standards that were too high for any human being, but I was actually closing all the doors of opportunities to experience true fellowship that I complained in my head so much about not having.

How was I doing this?  By not sharing with others my weaknesses or being vulnerable with others, I was isolating myself from others and not truly loving others.

Unconditional love is risky - it means you're going to put yourself out there for another person, even if that person doesn't love you back or respond the way you want them to.  So if I wasn't being honest with sharing my burdens, my fears, my pain, or my struggles with others because I was afraid they would see me differently or not give me the support I needed or dismiss/reject my feelings, then I wasn't really unconditionally loving them.  I was prideful for thinking I can/should handle my burdens on my own, prideful for assuming there was no chance they would love me back, and was loving conditionally because my decision to hold back was based on the outcome of the other person's response.

And people can't respond to what they don't know.  How could I expect people to love me in the ways I needed/wanted to be loved if I didn't share with them what was going on with me?  Did I really just assume everyone could read my mind and my heart and understand my exact state of being through my facial expressions?

I get it - I'd been hurt so many times when I did take the risk to put myself out there and be honest with people, so I know after many tries it's difficult to keep doing it.  But I began to make the connection that because I am a daughter of Christ who is so beautifully and wonderfully made, my security, hope, and identity rest in Him and not in other people.  He is the reason why we can keep taking those risks and putting ourselves out there.  He restores our soul; He heals our wounds; He has already paid the price.

I began to desire to live a life of genuine integrity and simplicity - not just in momentary decisions but as woven throughout my entire lifestyle that promoted these in such a way that who I was with other people (whether they're friends, family, or strangers) would be true to who I am when I was alone.  I realized I knew a lot of information and knowledge in my head and told people I believed certain things about life but didn't actually feel them or believe them in my heart.  My head and my heart were misaligned.

Obviously at this point I knew my frustration with not being able to change people stemmed from my frustration with not being in control of everything.  I also knew that I couldn't force people to change but that I needed to change myself.  I needed to submit myself to Christ...every day.

I rehash some of these things as a summary of posts from a long time ago because these were the processes that set the stage for my "carpe diem" disposition.  Stay tuned for another post on that.

Houses in Binghamton.

First of all, I have to tell you - I went running in the morning...twice this week.  Crazy, I know.  Now, granted, both runs were not very far and it weren't for very long, but it's pretty significant.  In case you haven't been following my blog for very long or never stalked any of my posts from previous years, I normally don't enjoy running...at all.  And this week was no exception.  But the weather has been perking up ever since I returned from California, and for the past few months (with a number of fast-paced walking excursion exceptions) I've been making excuses like, "It's too cold outside," to justify why I decided to stay inside rather than do some cardio.  So I don't really have that as an excuse anymore, and I really do want to get some more exercise.  And I want to finally get my behavior to match my head that knows it's actually something I need, not just something I should want, especially with my high cholesterol.

I just wanted to tell someone I went running because even though it's not really Oscar-worthy to most people, it's pretty important to me and I'm going to pretend that you're all mentally encouraging me to keep going because I can do it and maybe one day I'll knock, "Run a 5K race" or "Run a 10K race" off of my bucket list (I know, they're actually not that big of an accomplishment to some, but again, this is me we're talking about).

But I digress.  I actually prefaced this post with me running because I wanted to talk about the houses I see when I run or walk around the neighborhood.  It's something I really appreciate about my neighborhood - all the houses are so different from each other.  In NYC a lot of the houses look the same or have the same style or are renovated to look like all the other same fancy houses or just oddly stick out that make all the other houses subtly say, "We're not worthy."  It's kind of bleh.

But I love looking at houses in smaller towns or areas like Binghamton because each house is pretty different from the one next to it, not just by street or area.  A lot of them seem a little rustic or run down, but sturdy and homey.  I know this sounds cliche, but I feel like they've got a deeper sense of character than a lot of houses I've seen in NYC.  And I like that.

Have you ever looked at a house (or car, even) and tried to imagine who lives there and what their life stories are like?  It's something I did all the time when I was little and when I'm not the driver I still do it to this day.  It's really fun.  If you haven't done it before, try it the next time you're on a bus or are a passenger in a car.  What makes it interesting is that even though the things you may see around the house sometimes give hints to the people living inside (e.g. pets, welcome mats, eclectic lawn gnomes, extremely neatly cut green lawns, funky mailboxes), the truth is that what is portrayed on the outside of the house doesn't always reflect what's going on inside of the house.  Don't forget that the responses to conflicts and the development of different relationships are what really makes a story unique and interesting.

That's why it's such an interesting and unique experience to imagine what the stories of people's lives are.  But after you've tried that for a couple of houses a few different times, try advancing to the next level (ha - as if this was a game or contest) and imagine how one house interacts or thinks of another one just down the street that's really different.  How do the people living in the run down, bright, sea green house interact with the people living in the expensive looking, neat, two-story house?  Is there a sense of hostility?  Jealousy?  Camaraderie?  Superficial, too-polite-it's-disgusting kind of relationships?  In the stories you're imagining, what if those things changed?  What would change them?  What would be an development that we wouldn't expect?

Ah, so much fun.  Mmm...makes me want to try my hand at a couple of short stories.  My dad asked me this weekend if I was going to write some stories soon or work on writing/publishing a book like I've always wanted to do since I was 9 years old, and I realized that I haven't written - or even thought of writing - any stories in a couple of years.  It makes me sad to think about how I've diminished my story writing over the years into "silly ideas."

'Quiet' and 'shy' doesn't necessarily define a typical introvert.

Are you a staff worker with InterVarsity or a Binghamton InterVarsity student that speaks the language of Myers-Briggs?  Well then, this post may be for you.

If we have a very simple and shallow understanding of the personality types or definitions, we often assume introverts are quiet or shy people or vice versa.  I've known that this isn't necessarily true, but I've never really had anyone give me a good way of explaining why or how they function differently until today.

I was reading this article and while the author takes a very interesting stand on where introverts lie in the society (although I don't know if I necessarily agree with some things or agree so strongly), I really appreciated the way she highlighted some of the differences between a person being shy to a person being introverted:

"Nor are introverts necessarily shy. Shyness is the fear of social disapproval or humiliation, while introversion is a preference for environments that are not overstimulating."

"...the shy person is afraid to speak up, while the introvert is simply overstimulated – but to the outside world, the two appear to be the same."

That's why it's possible to have a really shy or quiet extrovert or an introvert (like me) who sometimes gets defensive (or offended) when people seem to disregard or frown upon their silence or desire to not be around so many people or noises.

So please be careful:  we all embody all types - introverted, extroverted, sensing, intuition, thinking, feeling, perceiving, judging - but depending on the situations, we tend (but not always!) to prefer or lean one way or another, and each type is expressed on an introverted/extroverted level as well.

No one wants to be put in a box.  Just something to keep in mind when we're (yes, this is something I have to be careful of as well) off trying to guess or assume someone's personality type right from the instant you meet them - it's not as easy as it seems.

Homebody vs. wanderlust.

Sometimes it's difficult for me to admit that I like staying/coming home.  Maybe it's because a lot of people talk about their big dreams and deep desires to travel to different countries and see the great wonders that the world has to offer in such a way that it would seem ludicrous to want anything less.

Don't get me wrong - if I had all the temporal and financial resources or won some chance to go overseas or cross national borders, I wouldn't easily pass up a chance to travel.

But no matter how much I want to deny it, I am definitely a big, fat, homebody at heart.  I'm actually really okay with not seeing the edges of the world or daring to take an adventure across a foreign land - not because I'm afraid to or want to stay within my comfort zone, but because I see how there can be so much to discover and learn right in my very neighborhood.  Even though it has its share of complicated issues and increasing tensions, I am like a tree that commits to digging its roots deep into the soil to discover new sources of water and nutrients once it is planted.  

I've talked about this concept of home and being on-the-move in following where God leads before, and it's still something I'm wrestling with and will be wrestling with for a while (who knows how long?).  At this point, it feels as though NYC will always been important and special to me, but it's a shell I seem to have outgrown for now.  And Binghamton is a nice place to return to, but knowing that it won't be where I'll be living in a few months from now has caused my roots to hesitate to dig deep.

Traveling like a madwoman this past week (and then some) wasn't too bad.  I had a lovely time in the mid-west, enjoyed the weather and my hotel bed and visiting my baby cousin in Cali - but when you're an introvert like me and have spent the last 10 straight days interacting with people after people, going from one place to another and another and another, there's only so much someone like me can take.

Sigh..I miss holding babies.  Thankfully, I got to play with two this week :]

Or maybe I really just miss having access to my giant bottle of Curel lotion when I travel.  Gotta have my moisturizer and if you want to travel light and not check in any luggage, it won't allow for anything bigger than a 3oz. bottle of lotion - which is simply insufficient for this lovely dry skin of mine!

In any case, there is so much to unpack from my adventures - from my mind, that is.  Now that the physical unpacking has completed, the  mental and emotional unpacking has only just begun.