forget being princess of a small country...
...or even a photojournalist in the south pacific!
my new life goal is to own a yoga studio. i'm thinking specializing in pre- and post-natal yoga (because i'm not advanced enough to do the funky stuff! i'll stick with what pregnant people can do), AND maybe dabbling in a theme of christian yoga. i think a lot of christians steer clear of yoga because of it's eastern religion/jesus-free foundation. but they're way off. sure the foundation and history is a very zen flavor, but ultimately god is there. i mean OUR god. God. capital G. there's no reason to keep jesus away, either.
i think with my newfound need/desire for a M.A. Theology, this would allign itself quite nicely with my career-based future of working for the church. i could run young adult ministry for the diocese (episcopal) or for a church/school on the side, and still manage and own my little yoga studio.
i'm feeling really great about this. i have a future! lookout world, here i come!
hold me to it.
10.29.2002
10.28.2002
persecute
with the chechnya/russia conflict moving into the public eye this last weekend, i've had a hard time taking a side. hostile hostage taking is always unquestionably wrong. but... i feel really empathetic towards the chechens... in the same way i feel for the IRA and the likes of kevin barry. these people are being horrifically persecuted for their heritage and the zipcode in which they live, but they have this increasing sense of passion for their families and communities. but i wish we could feel empathy towards them as we do towards starving, harmless children in third world countries. i wish they didn't fight back.
i suppose, ultimately, i wish for ending a reason for them to fight back. russia should have pulled out of chechnya... it's a no brainer. but the pride of one person will perpetuate the war.
as the hanging of kevin barry incensed further strife, the moscow fiasco will not silence the chechens.
with the chechnya/russia conflict moving into the public eye this last weekend, i've had a hard time taking a side. hostile hostage taking is always unquestionably wrong. but... i feel really empathetic towards the chechens... in the same way i feel for the IRA and the likes of kevin barry. these people are being horrifically persecuted for their heritage and the zipcode in which they live, but they have this increasing sense of passion for their families and communities. but i wish we could feel empathy towards them as we do towards starving, harmless children in third world countries. i wish they didn't fight back.
i suppose, ultimately, i wish for ending a reason for them to fight back. russia should have pulled out of chechnya... it's a no brainer. but the pride of one person will perpetuate the war.
as the hanging of kevin barry incensed further strife, the moscow fiasco will not silence the chechens.
10.23.2002
self evident
... is an amazing poem by ani difranco. i heard it live last night. that woman rocks my world!
i promise i'll write something for real soon, instead of just pasting in other peoples' genius.
read it here
pure genius. i'm off to make my own "say no to war" shirt now.
... is an amazing poem by ani difranco. i heard it live last night. that woman rocks my world!
i promise i'll write something for real soon, instead of just pasting in other peoples' genius.
read it here
pure genius. i'm off to make my own "say no to war" shirt now.
10.17.2002
laconic
when scottish people are around, i can't help but listen - there's something about the speed and general disregard for the fact that not many people can understand them, and they know this, and they ignore this. it's inspiring.
i remember seeing john mayer a few years ago, he introduced "my stupid mouth" with a story about how he always wants to start each school year being the mysteriously quiet guy in the back. "this year is gonna be the year that i keep my mouth shut." but, he said it always failed. that's inspiring, too. the need to be enigmatic and contemplative.
right now i'll just be quiet until i can decide.
when scottish people are around, i can't help but listen - there's something about the speed and general disregard for the fact that not many people can understand them, and they know this, and they ignore this. it's inspiring.
i remember seeing john mayer a few years ago, he introduced "my stupid mouth" with a story about how he always wants to start each school year being the mysteriously quiet guy in the back. "this year is gonna be the year that i keep my mouth shut." but, he said it always failed. that's inspiring, too. the need to be enigmatic and contemplative.
right now i'll just be quiet until i can decide.
10.16.2002
10.15.2002
ten am
or: being independently wealthy.
as i managed to spend the entire weekend trying to wrap up work, i started thinking how great life would be without a job but with an income. would i really be happy? i seriously doubt it. success and usefullness reign over idleness, i think. it bothers me that erik's mother hasn't worked in years, but calls everything "my house" and "my furniture." i'm all for sharing and coexisting - but wouldn't it then be "our house"...? i know the social climate in which she was raised was slightly different from mine, but i still get the urge to just yell "it's NOT YOUR HOUSE!" i don't, though. i think that stay-at-home-parents are the champions of our society and culture - this isn't a beef with them.
so i guess i wouldn't like to be independently wealthy. it's all about dependence. funny how that works out.
all i really want is 10am. i'm not talking about saturdays. those are easy. i just want that hour to myself on weekdays. i want to sit outside the coffee shops with my feet up, participating in the totally useless art of half-finishing crossword puzzles, and then cheating to fill in the rest. the coffee shop owner would become a close friend. maybe after i was done there, i'd go to my yoga studio to get ready for the afternoon classes, or look through the book collections i'll have there.
well, i should get back to reality. sigh. it's almost 10.
or: being independently wealthy.
as i managed to spend the entire weekend trying to wrap up work, i started thinking how great life would be without a job but with an income. would i really be happy? i seriously doubt it. success and usefullness reign over idleness, i think. it bothers me that erik's mother hasn't worked in years, but calls everything "my house" and "my furniture." i'm all for sharing and coexisting - but wouldn't it then be "our house"...? i know the social climate in which she was raised was slightly different from mine, but i still get the urge to just yell "it's NOT YOUR HOUSE!" i don't, though. i think that stay-at-home-parents are the champions of our society and culture - this isn't a beef with them.
so i guess i wouldn't like to be independently wealthy. it's all about dependence. funny how that works out.
all i really want is 10am. i'm not talking about saturdays. those are easy. i just want that hour to myself on weekdays. i want to sit outside the coffee shops with my feet up, participating in the totally useless art of half-finishing crossword puzzles, and then cheating to fill in the rest. the coffee shop owner would become a close friend. maybe after i was done there, i'd go to my yoga studio to get ready for the afternoon classes, or look through the book collections i'll have there.
well, i should get back to reality. sigh. it's almost 10.
10.11.2002
10.10.2002
blue glow
the lights just turned off in my office.
we sit in darkness until someone can't handle it long enough and resets the timer.
right now, i'm enjoying the all-nighter-esque blueness cast upon my face, lighting the way for my fingers as they fumble for the right keys, the right words, the right thoughts.
oh look, the lights are back. flourescancy. headache. going home now.
the lights just turned off in my office.
we sit in darkness until someone can't handle it long enough and resets the timer.
right now, i'm enjoying the all-nighter-esque blueness cast upon my face, lighting the way for my fingers as they fumble for the right keys, the right words, the right thoughts.
oh look, the lights are back. flourescancy. headache. going home now.
am i less of a person for liking contemporary christian music?
how's that for a catchy subject heading. yeah baby, this is going to be a thrilling entry.
after peeking into other people's lives like the stalker that i promise i'm not, i've heard good holy people bash contemporary christian music. that used to be me. i promise you i don't regularly listen to k-love, nor do i like any boy-bands, but i do have a special place in my heart for the likes of jennifer knapp and the city on a hill series. these are people that really don't give a flying hoot whether their amazing musical talents will go mostly unnoticed because of the few who have sweared off pop songs for J.C. they write amazing lyrics, or sometimes take beautiful old scriptures or ancient hymns and make them new.
wait, i think i might be a contemporary christian musician. okay, not really. most of the songs i write about jesus and god and co. are dark and death-y, or life-y, but i really can only manage to pull the hope-from-darkness imagery out of this vacuous shed of contrived lyrics waiting to actualize themselves in the next hope-from-darkness song.
if i'm listening to a song and realize that there's no way on this good earth that i'd listen to this song if it wasn't about god, i turn it off. if the word "exalt" is used, i turn it off. if there are more than 5 boys who spike/tip their hair and all of them sing and walk around on stage in swirly choreographs, i turn it off. if someone is giving me a beautiful message about the god that i love and serve, and the music is edgy and beautiful and emotionful (new word!), i listen.
i may be less of a person, but i'm too tired to boycott everything.
how's that for a catchy subject heading. yeah baby, this is going to be a thrilling entry.
after peeking into other people's lives like the stalker that i promise i'm not, i've heard good holy people bash contemporary christian music. that used to be me. i promise you i don't regularly listen to k-love, nor do i like any boy-bands, but i do have a special place in my heart for the likes of jennifer knapp and the city on a hill series. these are people that really don't give a flying hoot whether their amazing musical talents will go mostly unnoticed because of the few who have sweared off pop songs for J.C. they write amazing lyrics, or sometimes take beautiful old scriptures or ancient hymns and make them new.
wait, i think i might be a contemporary christian musician. okay, not really. most of the songs i write about jesus and god and co. are dark and death-y, or life-y, but i really can only manage to pull the hope-from-darkness imagery out of this vacuous shed of contrived lyrics waiting to actualize themselves in the next hope-from-darkness song.
if i'm listening to a song and realize that there's no way on this good earth that i'd listen to this song if it wasn't about god, i turn it off. if the word "exalt" is used, i turn it off. if there are more than 5 boys who spike/tip their hair and all of them sing and walk around on stage in swirly choreographs, i turn it off. if someone is giving me a beautiful message about the god that i love and serve, and the music is edgy and beautiful and emotionful (new word!), i listen.
i may be less of a person, but i'm too tired to boycott everything.
finding my place in the bridal universe
i don't think i'm inherently different from the hoards of daddy's girls rushing to the paramount bridal bizarres or spending $5-10 each on a glossy (or matte, as the trends dictate) bridal magazine. bridal PORN as www.goingbridal.com insists. infact, i own a few bridal magazines. and yes, i own martha stewart weddings.
but, on the other hand, i can't allow myself to litter this fragile earth, our island home (thanks to eucharistic prayer C) with:
a) a giant 300 lb display of tulle, organza and miscellaneous satins that will be forever banished to a "preserving bag" from thenceforth.
b) those three superfluous envelopes that come with the invitations. yes, all it really takes is one.
c) vellum. what the heck is vellum made of anyway?
d) jordan almonds. i admit, those are tasty, but nobody will really appreciate the effort we take to package them in pretty pouches or disposable plastic tubs.
e) those disposable plastic tubs
f) out of season flowers!
g) bridesmaid dresses. need i say more.
anyway, so with that, i'm returning to my silent boycott of the bridal industry. okay, you're right. anything i boycott is never really done silently.
here ends the first installment of julia's interpretations of the bridal universe.
i don't think i'm inherently different from the hoards of daddy's girls rushing to the paramount bridal bizarres or spending $5-10 each on a glossy (or matte, as the trends dictate) bridal magazine. bridal PORN as www.goingbridal.com insists. infact, i own a few bridal magazines. and yes, i own martha stewart weddings.
but, on the other hand, i can't allow myself to litter this fragile earth, our island home (thanks to eucharistic prayer C) with:
a) a giant 300 lb display of tulle, organza and miscellaneous satins that will be forever banished to a "preserving bag" from thenceforth.
b) those three superfluous envelopes that come with the invitations. yes, all it really takes is one.
c) vellum. what the heck is vellum made of anyway?
d) jordan almonds. i admit, those are tasty, but nobody will really appreciate the effort we take to package them in pretty pouches or disposable plastic tubs.
e) those disposable plastic tubs
f) out of season flowers!
g) bridesmaid dresses. need i say more.
anyway, so with that, i'm returning to my silent boycott of the bridal industry. okay, you're right. anything i boycott is never really done silently.
here ends the first installment of julia's interpretations of the bridal universe.
10.09.2002
i want to walk as a child of the light
but right now the only lights are these damn flourescent lights casting a greenish-yellow haze over my khaki-carpeted cubicle walls.
i was inspired today, and hence, i get all jesusy.
if i write a song today, i'll let you all know.
you. who are you?
but right now the only lights are these damn flourescent lights casting a greenish-yellow haze over my khaki-carpeted cubicle walls.
i was inspired today, and hence, i get all jesusy.
if i write a song today, i'll let you all know.
you. who are you?
twenty three point eight
percent.
23.8% body fat! holy cow!
we just had a health expo in our work parking lot, so my skinny (like seriously skin and bones) coworker and i lined up to check our body fat percentages. i was pleasantly surprised to note that i, 20 pounds heavier than her, have only 2% more body fat. i'm hardly made of steel, but it was a small victory. baby steps.
outside of my brief moment of self-confidence, the rest of the day has been slightly normal.
smog
the "health" expo had about 4 booths dedicated to carpooling and transportation alternatives. i signed up to join vanpools, for about the 3rd time this month. (someone *must* live by me!!!) the drive to and from work is really stressing me out. it's only 20 miles (one way), but it's too much. my gorgeous little car lacks air conditioning, and in conjunction, it apparantly lacks enough filtration to prevent full-size eucalyptus leaves coming straight through my vents. the eucalyptus is a nice touch - it feels woodsy inside - but the smog and nearby drivers' cigarettes and stinky car smells really make me grumpy. i feel as if the smog cloud i drive through manages to linger on my brain and attitude for at least an hour or so after the commute ends. i'm angry at myself for contributing to said smog. i'm angry at myself for being preachy about carpooling or public transportation or smart-growth, and then continuing my life of working in suburbia and driving by myself. (luckily, afore mentioned condo-upon-which-we-bid is closer to work and traffic-free).
...must join happy middle-aged admin ladies in a vanpool and read the paper on the way to work. or gossip. or move to portland. whichever is easiest.
i'm feeling very practical in this post. are you feeling it? i'm strangely drawn to end the post with some abstract, haughty commentary. i'll spare us all.
percent.
23.8% body fat! holy cow!
we just had a health expo in our work parking lot, so my skinny (like seriously skin and bones) coworker and i lined up to check our body fat percentages. i was pleasantly surprised to note that i, 20 pounds heavier than her, have only 2% more body fat. i'm hardly made of steel, but it was a small victory. baby steps.
outside of my brief moment of self-confidence, the rest of the day has been slightly normal.
smog
the "health" expo had about 4 booths dedicated to carpooling and transportation alternatives. i signed up to join vanpools, for about the 3rd time this month. (someone *must* live by me!!!) the drive to and from work is really stressing me out. it's only 20 miles (one way), but it's too much. my gorgeous little car lacks air conditioning, and in conjunction, it apparantly lacks enough filtration to prevent full-size eucalyptus leaves coming straight through my vents. the eucalyptus is a nice touch - it feels woodsy inside - but the smog and nearby drivers' cigarettes and stinky car smells really make me grumpy. i feel as if the smog cloud i drive through manages to linger on my brain and attitude for at least an hour or so after the commute ends. i'm angry at myself for contributing to said smog. i'm angry at myself for being preachy about carpooling or public transportation or smart-growth, and then continuing my life of working in suburbia and driving by myself. (luckily, afore mentioned condo-upon-which-we-bid is closer to work and traffic-free).
...must join happy middle-aged admin ladies in a vanpool and read the paper on the way to work. or gossip. or move to portland. whichever is easiest.
i'm feeling very practical in this post. are you feeling it? i'm strangely drawn to end the post with some abstract, haughty commentary. i'll spare us all.
gibran
-On Beauty-
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
--Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
-On Beauty-
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
--Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
god
talking with a dear dear friend last night, she mentioned a catastrophic experience in order to relay her reaction. of course, the experience is only catastrophic when you've spent the entire afternoon cleaning and prettifying your home for company. she knocked a vase of beautiful flowers off the shelf. it broke. glass everywhere. sad flowers.
julia evaluates what her reaction might have been: "&$#!!" or throwing something else. not really, i don't tend to throw things except tantrums.
sarah, on the other hand, mentioned her inital tendency to cuss, but ultimately mentioned that she just sat down and breathed (brothe?) and prayed. she remembered that broken vases are really trivial in the grand scheme of things, and her miniature sacrifice of having to sweep broken glass and rearrange some flowers is nothing compared to well, christ.
by the time i got to her house, the bathroom looked beautiful, with a new vase filled with rosemary and little purple flowers. it smelled great.
i keep wondering if i'll ever be the sort of person who's knee-jerk reaction to adversity is prayer or turning to god.
obviously not this morning when i was stuck behind the most idiotic slow driver on the way to work.
but the road to peace must begin with a desire for peace.
here i am, wanting peace. i'll be right here, waiting.
talking with a dear dear friend last night, she mentioned a catastrophic experience in order to relay her reaction. of course, the experience is only catastrophic when you've spent the entire afternoon cleaning and prettifying your home for company. she knocked a vase of beautiful flowers off the shelf. it broke. glass everywhere. sad flowers.
julia evaluates what her reaction might have been: "&$#!!" or throwing something else. not really, i don't tend to throw things except tantrums.
sarah, on the other hand, mentioned her inital tendency to cuss, but ultimately mentioned that she just sat down and breathed (brothe?) and prayed. she remembered that broken vases are really trivial in the grand scheme of things, and her miniature sacrifice of having to sweep broken glass and rearrange some flowers is nothing compared to well, christ.
by the time i got to her house, the bathroom looked beautiful, with a new vase filled with rosemary and little purple flowers. it smelled great.
i keep wondering if i'll ever be the sort of person who's knee-jerk reaction to adversity is prayer or turning to god.
obviously not this morning when i was stuck behind the most idiotic slow driver on the way to work.
but the road to peace must begin with a desire for peace.
here i am, wanting peace. i'll be right here, waiting.
sunrise
i drove to work in darkness today, hoping for a sunrise and an easy commute.
as i sat in my car weighing the benefits of replacing my toothpaste breath with the latte, i resented being sheathed in fog and traffic. i would usually revel in this being an abstract sunrise - the reflections and refractions of tail-lights bouncing amongst the millions of water droplets, rendering the air a pale and cold orange - but instead, i shook myself out of it and inhaled a sip of dry, bitter, milky coffee.
i drove to work in darkness today, hoping for a sunrise and an easy commute.
as i sat in my car weighing the benefits of replacing my toothpaste breath with the latte, i resented being sheathed in fog and traffic. i would usually revel in this being an abstract sunrise - the reflections and refractions of tail-lights bouncing amongst the millions of water droplets, rendering the air a pale and cold orange - but instead, i shook myself out of it and inhaled a sip of dry, bitter, milky coffee.
10.08.2002
the evil empire
an email i sent a few months ago entitled, "die starbucks, die"
just so we all are clear on how i feel about the evil green mermaid:
_________
so my passion has been renewed.
heck, just the other day, i was thinking, "starbucks isn't THAT bad..." (except for those billboards with the coconut drinks sunbathing. what the heck?)
but today, i went to the UBOC on Poway road, and with my newly withdrawn dollars, i was planning on going to Mikey's Coffee Shop. (yes, my career has led me to such forsaken lands as poway).
so, I walk along, pass Stix pool house, and then, wait, I thought it was right here. Hm... I keep walking, until I'm all the way at the end of the strip mall. Hm... maybe I passed it. Then, glancing to the right, I see the giant green all-caps lettering of Starbucks... "Now Open!"
Mikey's was a well-known haven in the poway/RB/PQ area for local music and art. plus, Mikey was the greatest coffee shop owner in the world, and would always call you by your name and give you free stuff or let you try things without paying. it had been there for as long as i can remember.
now, alas, it's gone.
i wonder if Mikey retired and closed his doors. Starbucks probably stepped up to the plate and said, "It is our duty to serve the newly voided coffee-house-loving community of Poway. We just have to do it," and reluctantly, poignantly moved into the shopping center.
yeah, right.
_________
an email i sent a few months ago entitled, "die starbucks, die"
just so we all are clear on how i feel about the evil green mermaid:
_________
so my passion has been renewed.
heck, just the other day, i was thinking, "starbucks isn't THAT bad..." (except for those billboards with the coconut drinks sunbathing. what the heck?)
but today, i went to the UBOC on Poway road, and with my newly withdrawn dollars, i was planning on going to Mikey's Coffee Shop. (yes, my career has led me to such forsaken lands as poway).
so, I walk along, pass Stix pool house, and then, wait, I thought it was right here. Hm... I keep walking, until I'm all the way at the end of the strip mall. Hm... maybe I passed it. Then, glancing to the right, I see the giant green all-caps lettering of Starbucks... "Now Open!"
Mikey's was a well-known haven in the poway/RB/PQ area for local music and art. plus, Mikey was the greatest coffee shop owner in the world, and would always call you by your name and give you free stuff or let you try things without paying. it had been there for as long as i can remember.
now, alas, it's gone.
i wonder if Mikey retired and closed his doors. Starbucks probably stepped up to the plate and said, "It is our duty to serve the newly voided coffee-house-loving community of Poway. We just have to do it," and reluctantly, poignantly moved into the shopping center.
yeah, right.
_________
the published journalist...
well, don't get your hopes up too high. here's an article that appeared in the san diego episcopal diocese paper (from my word doc, not the version the editor actually published... i think all she did was add a semi colon where i PURPOSELY LEFT ONE OUT... you know, for the annie dillard effect. sigh, oh well). goodness knows what the circulation is, but i have a feeling that every poor soul that signed an episcopal church guest book at some point in their lives somehow found themselves on the mailing list.
oh yeah, i'm episcopalian.
"campus ministry" or, the inflicted title, "we are no longer the future of the church. we ARE the church"---
Just over two years ago, I graduated from college. As I drove away from campus for the last time, tossing my ratty parking permit into the back seat (i.e. trash can) in all its overpriced glory, I had a nagging feeling of regret. Regret?! I just graduated from college, with a pretty decent GPA (despite organic chemistry), and I had, as the many droning graduation speeches professed, “the future in my hands.” So where was this regret coming from?!
UCSD had a fledgling campus ministry program. I was one of 3 students, and I usually worked during the Wednesday Eucharists. Buoyed by an utterly devoted group of faculty and staff, the UCSD Episcopal Student Association survived the inconsistencies and evasiveness of college students. I regretted not fully participating and supporting the program. But at the same time, I felt a sense of community and unconditional support – the campus ministry program survived despite me.
Young adult and campus ministry can sometimes be seen as the black sheep of all religious organizations everywhere. Why should we put money and effort into a program for people who won’t appreciate it? Nobody will come, anyway. And why can’t they just go to church like other adults? In San Diego, we say, “Well, they have Vocare. What more do they need?”
Vocare in the Diocese of San Diego is one of the most successful in the nation. However, staffing the weekends and participating in monthly social and service-based reunions isn’t enough for me. I am being spiritually fed, but I am still going home hungry.
We “young adults” are now a rabid mix of Generation X and the new, younger generation, sometimes tagged “Generation Y.” Generation X includes people who are well into their 30s (I believe the bracket for this arbitrary classification is 1960-1979). Young adults are getting younger – this year’s college freshmen were born in 1985: the “Y” generation. However, with such vastly different ages of people in need of “young adult” ministry, there is one common denominator. Rodger Y. Nishoka, Associate Professor of Christian Education at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, GA, spoke at this year’s Come to the Feast conference on young adult and campus ministry. Nishoka insisted that young adults need authenticity. He’s right. In politics, our relationships, our culture, our music – everything has to be genuine and relevant. We don’t let this requirement slide for our religious and spiritual lives, either. An astounding number of young adults insist that they are spiritual, but when asked if they attend church, the answer is rarely yes. In the eyes of many GenX-ers and GenY-ers, the institution of the church has somehow avoided the “authentic” nomen over the years. Our task now is to make ourselves authentic.
College is generally a time in someone’s life where the church is “forgotten.” Some of the most active youth group members run off to college and don’t look back. However, this is generally not a conscious decision. It’s a mixture of needing to sleep in on Sunday mornings and a general unavailability of authentic and relevant spiritual and theological guidance on the campus.
Over the years, Episcopal Campus Ministry in San Diego has taken some hard hits from budget cuts, lack of support from the Universities, and the “graduation” plague taking away the active students. Like UCSD’s group of faculty and staff, SDSU campus ministry has a constant: the Lutheran-Episcopal Campus Center. With an unknown future as SDSU plans a remodel for the religious centers, The Lutheran Episcopal Campus Center is still standing. A small but growing number of students seek a safe haven in the campus center. Young Adult and Campus ministry must address the needs of the “X” and “Y” generations – a safe haven, an escape from the busy, crazy, and faithless world; and relevancy and authenticity. If it has to be set somewhere other than a church parish hall, so be it. If it has to include Rite I Eucharist and ancient Hymns, so be it. If this has to include free food and beer, so be it.
We are no longer “the future of the Church.” We ARE the Church.
well, don't get your hopes up too high. here's an article that appeared in the san diego episcopal diocese paper (from my word doc, not the version the editor actually published... i think all she did was add a semi colon where i PURPOSELY LEFT ONE OUT... you know, for the annie dillard effect. sigh, oh well). goodness knows what the circulation is, but i have a feeling that every poor soul that signed an episcopal church guest book at some point in their lives somehow found themselves on the mailing list.
oh yeah, i'm episcopalian.
"campus ministry" or, the inflicted title, "we are no longer the future of the church. we ARE the church"---
Just over two years ago, I graduated from college. As I drove away from campus for the last time, tossing my ratty parking permit into the back seat (i.e. trash can) in all its overpriced glory, I had a nagging feeling of regret. Regret?! I just graduated from college, with a pretty decent GPA (despite organic chemistry), and I had, as the many droning graduation speeches professed, “the future in my hands.” So where was this regret coming from?!
UCSD had a fledgling campus ministry program. I was one of 3 students, and I usually worked during the Wednesday Eucharists. Buoyed by an utterly devoted group of faculty and staff, the UCSD Episcopal Student Association survived the inconsistencies and evasiveness of college students. I regretted not fully participating and supporting the program. But at the same time, I felt a sense of community and unconditional support – the campus ministry program survived despite me.
Young adult and campus ministry can sometimes be seen as the black sheep of all religious organizations everywhere. Why should we put money and effort into a program for people who won’t appreciate it? Nobody will come, anyway. And why can’t they just go to church like other adults? In San Diego, we say, “Well, they have Vocare. What more do they need?”
Vocare in the Diocese of San Diego is one of the most successful in the nation. However, staffing the weekends and participating in monthly social and service-based reunions isn’t enough for me. I am being spiritually fed, but I am still going home hungry.
We “young adults” are now a rabid mix of Generation X and the new, younger generation, sometimes tagged “Generation Y.” Generation X includes people who are well into their 30s (I believe the bracket for this arbitrary classification is 1960-1979). Young adults are getting younger – this year’s college freshmen were born in 1985: the “Y” generation. However, with such vastly different ages of people in need of “young adult” ministry, there is one common denominator. Rodger Y. Nishoka, Associate Professor of Christian Education at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, GA, spoke at this year’s Come to the Feast conference on young adult and campus ministry. Nishoka insisted that young adults need authenticity. He’s right. In politics, our relationships, our culture, our music – everything has to be genuine and relevant. We don’t let this requirement slide for our religious and spiritual lives, either. An astounding number of young adults insist that they are spiritual, but when asked if they attend church, the answer is rarely yes. In the eyes of many GenX-ers and GenY-ers, the institution of the church has somehow avoided the “authentic” nomen over the years. Our task now is to make ourselves authentic.
College is generally a time in someone’s life where the church is “forgotten.” Some of the most active youth group members run off to college and don’t look back. However, this is generally not a conscious decision. It’s a mixture of needing to sleep in on Sunday mornings and a general unavailability of authentic and relevant spiritual and theological guidance on the campus.
Over the years, Episcopal Campus Ministry in San Diego has taken some hard hits from budget cuts, lack of support from the Universities, and the “graduation” plague taking away the active students. Like UCSD’s group of faculty and staff, SDSU campus ministry has a constant: the Lutheran-Episcopal Campus Center. With an unknown future as SDSU plans a remodel for the religious centers, The Lutheran Episcopal Campus Center is still standing. A small but growing number of students seek a safe haven in the campus center. Young Adult and Campus ministry must address the needs of the “X” and “Y” generations – a safe haven, an escape from the busy, crazy, and faithless world; and relevancy and authenticity. If it has to be set somewhere other than a church parish hall, so be it. If it has to include Rite I Eucharist and ancient Hymns, so be it. If this has to include free food and beer, so be it.
We are no longer “the future of the Church.” We ARE the Church.
tape flags are my best friend
...and other miracles of the 3M company...
seriously, i've always lived for post-it notes. but recently, a new technological advance found it's way onto my desk. tape flags. for those of you unfamiliar - they're little centimeter-wide, 2 inch-long sticky things, with a dash of color at the end that sticks out. you can use them as bookmarks (although NOT ON ARCHIVELY SENSITIVE BOOKS, according to library information desk people). they rock!
really, i live in a world (self-inflicted, i should add) where internal, innate organization is really lacking. i find that i have to turn to technology for help. if i spend money on cool storage bins and little sticky slivers of plastic, I TOO CAN LIVE BETTER. better living through chemistry! if i bring more stuff into my life, i can surely live more simply. um, no. even though i'm addicted to the matte khaki-splashed pages of Real Simple magazine, i catch myself wondering if it's all a big plot. of course it is.
soooo... tape flags: even though i am beginning to resent what organizational gimicks represent in my life, i need you. i need you to make me feel like i'm doing work. i need you to let me forget about a problem for now, and just "flag" it for later. i need you to give me sheer joy at the site of once-boring stacks of white paper with black ink now speckled with red! and blue! and yellow! and sometimes green, although for some reason, i'm always out of green.
i'm going to flag this for later.
...and other miracles of the 3M company...
seriously, i've always lived for post-it notes. but recently, a new technological advance found it's way onto my desk. tape flags. for those of you unfamiliar - they're little centimeter-wide, 2 inch-long sticky things, with a dash of color at the end that sticks out. you can use them as bookmarks (although NOT ON ARCHIVELY SENSITIVE BOOKS, according to library information desk people). they rock!
really, i live in a world (self-inflicted, i should add) where internal, innate organization is really lacking. i find that i have to turn to technology for help. if i spend money on cool storage bins and little sticky slivers of plastic, I TOO CAN LIVE BETTER. better living through chemistry! if i bring more stuff into my life, i can surely live more simply. um, no. even though i'm addicted to the matte khaki-splashed pages of Real Simple magazine, i catch myself wondering if it's all a big plot. of course it is.
soooo... tape flags: even though i am beginning to resent what organizational gimicks represent in my life, i need you. i need you to make me feel like i'm doing work. i need you to let me forget about a problem for now, and just "flag" it for later. i need you to give me sheer joy at the site of once-boring stacks of white paper with black ink now speckled with red! and blue! and yellow! and sometimes green, although for some reason, i'm always out of green.
i'm going to flag this for later.
homeownership
and i'm not talking metaphorically here. although, when do we ever own anything fully enough to make it a home..? that random place in time and space and miscellaneous z-vectors that houses the heart.
erik's parents are putting a bid on a house for us. so yes, even though our hearts may be there anywhere from a few months to a year from now, we won't *technically* own it anyway. at least for a few years.
does this make me feel odd? yes. does this make me feel like less of a person? not really. does this make me take back everything bad i've said about parents spoiling their children well into their twenties? absolutely.
okay, so the house is a condo. another kink in the homeowner nomen. we'd be condoowners. alright, condo-not-quite-owners.
then it's settled. i'm not going to say the word homeownership again.
in other news, i listened to dubya's speech in cincinatti last night on All Things Considered. i've decided that even though i hate him, he's a really good chamelion. remember when he was talking about thinning ("thinnin'") the forests in oregon? he managed to sound fully uneducated and biggoted. he just fits whatever situation he needs to fit. he spoke really calmly last night, and had a damn good speechwriter (even though i read somewhere that the writer is a loyal patron of starbucks... ask me what i think of THAT). i still think he's a shmoe and i still think war is bad. krieg ist ungesund für kindern und andere leben dinge!
i'm going to get to work now. more later. i probably won't talk anymore about war or starbucks, though, so we're safe for now.
and then some.
here i am again, wondering if sending thoughts into a wire or air or wherever information and signals ratify themselves before they appear on this screen in front of me is REALLY helpful or not. or if i'm just making my life more complex.
do we label things ineffable because we want it that way, or because things are truly too large or too abstract to which to assign words. (frankly, i really should have ended that sentence in a preposition, but something is holding me back. the grammar force. as erik would say (when i make a mistake) - there's a glitch in the force....) sooooo, back to my point. i just think that i easily chuck things into the realm of the indescribable because it's easier than making any sense of anything.
this weblog is a lesson in description.
welcome to my boycott of ineffableness.
and i'm not talking metaphorically here. although, when do we ever own anything fully enough to make it a home..? that random place in time and space and miscellaneous z-vectors that houses the heart.
erik's parents are putting a bid on a house for us. so yes, even though our hearts may be there anywhere from a few months to a year from now, we won't *technically* own it anyway. at least for a few years.
does this make me feel odd? yes. does this make me feel like less of a person? not really. does this make me take back everything bad i've said about parents spoiling their children well into their twenties? absolutely.
okay, so the house is a condo. another kink in the homeowner nomen. we'd be condoowners. alright, condo-not-quite-owners.
then it's settled. i'm not going to say the word homeownership again.
in other news, i listened to dubya's speech in cincinatti last night on All Things Considered. i've decided that even though i hate him, he's a really good chamelion. remember when he was talking about thinning ("thinnin'") the forests in oregon? he managed to sound fully uneducated and biggoted. he just fits whatever situation he needs to fit. he spoke really calmly last night, and had a damn good speechwriter (even though i read somewhere that the writer is a loyal patron of starbucks... ask me what i think of THAT). i still think he's a shmoe and i still think war is bad. krieg ist ungesund für kindern und andere leben dinge!
i'm going to get to work now. more later. i probably won't talk anymore about war or starbucks, though, so we're safe for now.
and then some.
here i am again, wondering if sending thoughts into a wire or air or wherever information and signals ratify themselves before they appear on this screen in front of me is REALLY helpful or not. or if i'm just making my life more complex.
do we label things ineffable because we want it that way, or because things are truly too large or too abstract to which to assign words. (frankly, i really should have ended that sentence in a preposition, but something is holding me back. the grammar force. as erik would say (when i make a mistake) - there's a glitch in the force....) sooooo, back to my point. i just think that i easily chuck things into the realm of the indescribable because it's easier than making any sense of anything.
this weblog is a lesson in description.
welcome to my boycott of ineffableness.
10.07.2002
the anti-work
given my obsessive attraction to message boards (lately it's been me going bridal at www.theknot.com), you'd think i didn't need something else to veer me away from my work. but here i am, developing a weblog that i can easily update... while at work!!!
i don't have an innate disrespect for my employer, in fact, i love my job, i love my boss, i'm pretty much indifferent towards the actual company. i don't know what it is. idleness? attention deficit? obsession with the internet? perhaps. i like all three.
and on the days when i hustle and get actual words written (i'm talking about work here), i feel like i should "reward" myself with a quick perusal online. so what could be considered lack of motivation actually motivates me to get stuff done.
i'm wondering how public to make this blog. i can't predict whether i'll want to use this site as a place to vent about my loved ones or not. probably not. i'm sure i'll send erik here to take a look, because there's nothing i will ever think that i wouldn't want to share with him. what do i enjoy about other peoples' weblogs? well, they're windows to their brains. i love that. but, then again, these are strangers' blogs i'm reading, so they're really just windows to strange brains. it'd be different if i knew the person. it'd be like sneaking between the matresses and reading their diary.
well, i'll use discretion when i write and spread the word about jde blog.
is wisdom a consequence of discretion? some would say (usually introverts). obviously (well, not obviously... you might not know me), i'm not a pure introvert. i'm not a pure extrovert, either. i wonder if there's a term for us sometimes-introverts-and-sometimes-extroverts... but anyway, i'm leaning towards discretion really not being useful at all. i don't think holding anything back makes me any better of a person, unless i'm being discrete (discreet?) with insults... but i also don't think rambling on about this, that, and the other will make me smarter.
yeah, yeah, i know wisdom and smartness and intelligence and knowledge are all different....
okay, away from the black hole of wisdom and discretion... back to the grey.
given my obsessive attraction to message boards (lately it's been me going bridal at www.theknot.com), you'd think i didn't need something else to veer me away from my work. but here i am, developing a weblog that i can easily update... while at work!!!
i don't have an innate disrespect for my employer, in fact, i love my job, i love my boss, i'm pretty much indifferent towards the actual company. i don't know what it is. idleness? attention deficit? obsession with the internet? perhaps. i like all three.
and on the days when i hustle and get actual words written (i'm talking about work here), i feel like i should "reward" myself with a quick perusal online. so what could be considered lack of motivation actually motivates me to get stuff done.
i'm wondering how public to make this blog. i can't predict whether i'll want to use this site as a place to vent about my loved ones or not. probably not. i'm sure i'll send erik here to take a look, because there's nothing i will ever think that i wouldn't want to share with him. what do i enjoy about other peoples' weblogs? well, they're windows to their brains. i love that. but, then again, these are strangers' blogs i'm reading, so they're really just windows to strange brains. it'd be different if i knew the person. it'd be like sneaking between the matresses and reading their diary.
well, i'll use discretion when i write and spread the word about jde blog.
is wisdom a consequence of discretion? some would say (usually introverts). obviously (well, not obviously... you might not know me), i'm not a pure introvert. i'm not a pure extrovert, either. i wonder if there's a term for us sometimes-introverts-and-sometimes-extroverts... but anyway, i'm leaning towards discretion really not being useful at all. i don't think holding anything back makes me any better of a person, unless i'm being discrete (discreet?) with insults... but i also don't think rambling on about this, that, and the other will make me smarter.
yeah, yeah, i know wisdom and smartness and intelligence and knowledge are all different....
okay, away from the black hole of wisdom and discretion... back to the grey.
forget the world... welcome LKC!
in a move even bolder than opening the blog to the world, julia told a friend.
welcome to my crazy hodgepodge of musings. hopefully this will free up your email in-box, bwahahahaha.
anyway, i can always trust you to laugh at what goes on in my head, and sometimes agree, relate, or sympathize, but nothing more :-)
love!
in a move even bolder than opening the blog to the world, julia told a friend.
welcome to my crazy hodgepodge of musings. hopefully this will free up your email in-box, bwahahahaha.
anyway, i can always trust you to laugh at what goes on in my head, and sometimes agree, relate, or sympathize, but nothing more :-)
love!
the beginning
today, monday of all mondays, october 7th, 2002. i begin this blog, using my well-trained alt-tab fingers, in secrecy.
who am i? i'm julia. i'm a writer in many ways, but i'm only paid to write user manuals. i'm getting married in just under a year, and i want to blog all of my thoughts and fears and happinesses and anger right here. i'm so excited to make this huge step with erik. it's not a beginning- we're already here. it's a step, a leap, a leaf to be turned, and i couldn't be more thrilled and afraid at the same time. i love erik with every ounce of my existence, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him. i can, however, wait to spend the rest of my checking account on a tulle-infested shindig.
thanks for listening.
the end of the beginning, the beginning of the rest.
today, monday of all mondays, october 7th, 2002. i begin this blog, using my well-trained alt-tab fingers, in secrecy.
who am i? i'm julia. i'm a writer in many ways, but i'm only paid to write user manuals. i'm getting married in just under a year, and i want to blog all of my thoughts and fears and happinesses and anger right here. i'm so excited to make this huge step with erik. it's not a beginning- we're already here. it's a step, a leap, a leaf to be turned, and i couldn't be more thrilled and afraid at the same time. i love erik with every ounce of my existence, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him. i can, however, wait to spend the rest of my checking account on a tulle-infested shindig.
thanks for listening.
the end of the beginning, the beginning of the rest.
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