End of the Semester

It is coming- I feel it.

There comes a point in each academic semester when you get a feeling- an instinctive inkling to look at the books and the syllabus and count the days remaining. That number currently stands at 16- I have just 16 days of classes left.

Feelings of the Heart include:


1. Panic


2. Immobilizing fear


3. Out-of-control amounts of work


4. Disbelief at how quickly this semester has gone (I say this every semester- but you know)


5. Pride- I am almost finished with my FIFTH semester of college (in the grand scheme of things, I know this barely even matters... but it feels god now)


6. Inexpressible JOY

What Now?

For all my faithful blog readers, (yes- YOU in 5 years, reminiscing about the past) I'm baaa-ck! Excuse the kid movie flashback- you know the one where the dinosaurs walk down the streets of the city? Is it actually called "We're Back?" I do believe...

Now that I have wasted a good minute of the limited amount of time I have to be alive- lets proceed, shall we?

Live in the last month has... moved on. I am feeling much more in control of my life than I was even just a few weeks ago- I think a multitude of factors have converged to lead me to this conclusion.

1. Barack Obama won the election. You may hate my politics (not YOU, future me!), but I am freakin' excited about this. Seriously- I rode that high for... well, I am still riding the high.
2. I visited what is quite possibly my favorite family on the planet last weekend. The chance to hang out with their five BEAUTIFUL children was enough to keep me going for quite a while.
3. I have awesome friends. Seriously amazing people in my life who lave and care about me.
4. I am figuring out some of my issues... they are ever-present, but at least I am not floundering all the time anymore. My head is barely above water- but I am no longer drowning. I have times of struggle- but I also have times that I can ride that wave far above the water. There is something deeply satisfying about knowing that your issues are managable- that in the world there exists hope.
5. I have recently joined an organization that is forcing me to consider my life and the public service I want to... do? It has an incredibly creative name: The Center for Public Service. Within this center I am finding my center- and it is deeply rooted in a societal service career. It (frankly) scares the shi--iit out of me to know- rather, to NOT know. But again- a little excitement in knowing that my life has potential.
6. Break is coming, friends! Those 4 LONG lovely days of... nothingness. Not that I do nothing over break, but it feels fun to say that way.
7. Bigger break is coming- the semester break. The time when you really ARE done with everything, you have completely put the last four months behind you along with the rediculous project and the difficult tests and the incredibly stressful 21 credit hours. (Future me- why did I do that? Seriously. PLEASE- learn from me now... don't be stupid.)

So- control. All of my issues are about control. Every. Single. One.

Things I'm afriad about...
1. Losing control of myself, my life, my friends, my family, my future.
2. Never getting to the point where I can simply accept the love of God.
3. Never finding the answers to the huge, life-altering, perspective-changing questions.
4. My own Grandma-issues. Both Grandmas. The dead one too.
5. Family stuff. In general. That my brothers turn out alright. That they become good people. That my parents would... you know.
6. Salvation.

I am a whiner. Plain and simple.

Someday there will be a nice post without all of the psycho-emotional blather spewed across it. But for now- this is absolutely what you get.

Lots to Process...

So- I am trying to resist my feelings of failure that result from being pressured into creating a blog and then allowing life to take over, interfering with posting on said blog. But it is not working, the resisting.

I am happy that I have a blog. I see myself someday, cozy and secure in my downtown apartment, nestled in my overstuffed armchair with a cup of tea and my laptop, reading through the amusing and childish antics of my past. (SPOILER- here is where it gets... odd) I will be confident and secure in my life- all aspects of my life. I will have a beautiful career working at an urban elementary school. I will have a social life and a social love. He will be (everything) that I want him to be. I will be involved in the community and feel each day like I had a hand in change. I will understand myself better. I will be looking at graduate schools. I will ...finally... be on track spiritually. I will be taking care of my little brother attending school in my city. I will be saying and thinking and doing a lot of things. Hopefully.

What I am getting at... life changes. A lot.

On October something-or-other, a girl in my apartment complex reported that she had been raped. By a stranger. Wearing a mask. In her apartment. In the middle of the day.
My world fell apart. I know that there are a lot of other life events that can (and will) happen to disrupt my life in a more significant way, but this felt big. Correction- it was big. It literally changed the way I see the world. I felt victimized and afraid and angry.

Yesterday I, we, everyone, found out that it was not true. It was a false claim. It was a fabrication.

So again I will say...
My world fell apart. I know that there are a lot of other life events that can (and will) happen to disrupt my life in a more significant way, but this felt big. Correction- it was big. It literally changed the way I see the world. I felt victimized and afraid and angry.

Explanations...

I feel the need to explain myself and this (fruitless) attempt at documenting life-stuff. It probably won't work. I will probably feel just as unknown and be no closer to... what is at the top of that pyramid? Self-actualization? I highly doubt that this blog will help me climb those stairs. But in the chance that my thoughts can become words, and my words expression, and my expression meaningful to anyone but myself- here I go.

So- the title of my blog is Bread and Roses. I stole this from a Judy Collins song, based on a poem by James Oppenheim. It was published in 1911, and is associated with a workers strike in Massachusetts. What in the world does this have to do with my life?

Here are the lyrics:


As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!

As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.

As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.

As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.

Get it now? I am filled with a passion to live this calling. Whether by a career choice or a community organization or a ministry experience or a familial role, I want to succeed at living a life for others. I want to give in a way that helps the concrete, the physical- but the spirit as well.