Thoughts:
1) I believe the end of this blog is coming. I'll keep you posted. (posted!, get it?)
2) I've been making many lists in anticipation of my asian relocation. Some of them legitimate, some of them not so much i.e. Things I'm Going to Miss But Suck at Skyping (my bed, chipotle, cats, etc)
One of my more serious lists is my October Box list. This box will arrive at my apartment in October, filled with seasonal/favorite things. Mostly because I think October is just gonna be the suckiest. I'll have been there for 3 months, the weather will start to change, and all I'll want are scarves knitted by Maren, pumpkin spice EVERYTHING, and halloween. None of these things will be around... so I'm gonna send them to myself! Life's short - make yourself happy. ANYWAY. my box. here's what's on my october box list.
-one can of pumpkin puree
-2 boxes of stove top stuffing (usually I make it from scratch, but COME ON gimme a break)
-hocus pocus dvd
-glitter pumpkin
-hello kitty pumpkin decorating kit ("thanks, mom" said begrudgingly)
-pine scented candle
-christmas button ingredients (how i'm going to find christmas m&ms before I leave, I have no idea)
-ELF
3) Continuing on this list about lists (oh my god, I need help), I was asked earlier today "So, what's on your American bucket list before you leave the states forever?". Let it be known that I am NOT leaving forever. I'll be home for christmas (cue the song, 9 months in advance). and I've only signed a 2 year contract. I hadn't thought about it though. I mean, my burger consumption has skyrocketed in the last 2 weeks, but I thought that was caused by my menstrual cycle and stress. sorry to get personal? Maybe it's just me, lovin on some great american beef, knowing that burgers are going to be a painfully disappointing korean experience... who knows!?
So, come at me. What would you do if you only had 136 days left in this blessed land?
Tweet me @emmaleej
email me at johnem06@luther.edu
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Monday, March 11, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
resonance
I was sitting in the back of Cresbard United Methodist Church this morning trying to walk the line between feeling and being in control. I was in the back (chillin with the organist, Lorene), apart from my family, as we were all gathering together to remember and celebrate my Aunt Marvel. I was in the back, with my violin, trying to keep my throat from seizing due to overwhelming emotions. Listening to family members share all the best of a beautiful person who is no longer with you and trying to keep your throat relaxed is no small task. I was trying simultaneously to feel (in order to be present and go through this process with my family), and to not feel (so my singing wouldn't sound like a cat in heat).
I didn't really think much of not sitting with my family until they were walking in, and I so desperately wanted to be holding my mom's hand as she walked down the aisle to say goodbye to her big sister. I felt guilty as I left the room for a while, drinking water and practicing scales in my head so I would not feel too much, but I wouldn't have done it any other way. First of all, I was honored to be offering this gift of my Aunt's favorite music to help heal the people who are left behind, and second, I realized something while sitting by myself in the back of that small methodist church.
Family and friends are the same thing. I used to think that friends were the family that you got to choose, and family were the people you're related to (without choice). I was looking at the congregation, seeing how different everyone is - mannerisms, jobs, preferences, ideals, daily life, priorities, appearance, etc. All these people were related to me - by marriage, by association, through church, through my parents' lives before I was born, through coworkers, through accidents and coincidences. Some of them had titles (cousin, second cousin, uncle, ect), some of them were half strangers (I didn't know them, but they knew all about me), and some of them were total strangers. I don't know specifically when or how, but while I was sitting there, the "blood lines" started to really blur. I saw nuclear families to be something different - the result of a committed friendship. For the first time, I saw the family/friends explanation flipped - Family is the friends that we choose to be permanent. We have made a commitment of forever to these friends we've made along the way. Sure, you inherit them when you're born, but we're all just people, looking for someone else to weather the storm with us.
When I think back to some of my happiest, most fulfilling experiences, I remember saying a certain phrase to myself that totally makes sense after this family/friends/synonym realization. I would say it and feel so strong, and I never knew why. I would say, "These (are) my people".
standing (or sitting) on stage during Christmas At Luther - these my people
dancing in the bakery - these my people
finishing off one round of laughter with my family and launching into another after we all snort - these my people
saying goodbye to students on my last day of student teaching - these my people
receiving prayers, encouragement, and praise from my workplace/congregation - these my people
blues brothers quotes up the wazoo at any time - these my people
all the mcdonald's and culver's study breaks - these my people
running into someone again and feeling like you could talk for days - these my people
tap off before a parade - these my people
arguing about collective goals and the future - these are still my people
It's that you're never alone. Finding support and love and more questions from so many places and people is what this phrase is sort of about to me. We all come into and leave this world on our own, but we are always searching to be recognized as a part of something else - to not be alone, even if it is for 10 minutes.
What I found, sitting in the back of that church, is that none of us will ever be alone.
These my people.
all y'alls is all my people.
I didn't really think much of not sitting with my family until they were walking in, and I so desperately wanted to be holding my mom's hand as she walked down the aisle to say goodbye to her big sister. I felt guilty as I left the room for a while, drinking water and practicing scales in my head so I would not feel too much, but I wouldn't have done it any other way. First of all, I was honored to be offering this gift of my Aunt's favorite music to help heal the people who are left behind, and second, I realized something while sitting by myself in the back of that small methodist church.
Family and friends are the same thing. I used to think that friends were the family that you got to choose, and family were the people you're related to (without choice). I was looking at the congregation, seeing how different everyone is - mannerisms, jobs, preferences, ideals, daily life, priorities, appearance, etc. All these people were related to me - by marriage, by association, through church, through my parents' lives before I was born, through coworkers, through accidents and coincidences. Some of them had titles (cousin, second cousin, uncle, ect), some of them were half strangers (I didn't know them, but they knew all about me), and some of them were total strangers. I don't know specifically when or how, but while I was sitting there, the "blood lines" started to really blur. I saw nuclear families to be something different - the result of a committed friendship. For the first time, I saw the family/friends explanation flipped - Family is the friends that we choose to be permanent. We have made a commitment of forever to these friends we've made along the way. Sure, you inherit them when you're born, but we're all just people, looking for someone else to weather the storm with us.
When I think back to some of my happiest, most fulfilling experiences, I remember saying a certain phrase to myself that totally makes sense after this family/friends/synonym realization. I would say it and feel so strong, and I never knew why. I would say, "These (are) my people".
standing (or sitting) on stage during Christmas At Luther - these my people
dancing in the bakery - these my people
finishing off one round of laughter with my family and launching into another after we all snort - these my people
saying goodbye to students on my last day of student teaching - these my people
receiving prayers, encouragement, and praise from my workplace/congregation - these my people
blues brothers quotes up the wazoo at any time - these my people
all the mcdonald's and culver's study breaks - these my people
running into someone again and feeling like you could talk for days - these my people
tap off before a parade - these my people
arguing about collective goals and the future - these are still my people
It's that you're never alone. Finding support and love and more questions from so many places and people is what this phrase is sort of about to me. We all come into and leave this world on our own, but we are always searching to be recognized as a part of something else - to not be alone, even if it is for 10 minutes.
What I found, sitting in the back of that church, is that none of us will ever be alone.
These my people.
all y'alls is all my people.
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