I live in a constant state of wrong-ness. I'm like the colloquial bull in the china shop. Except I'm an elephant in a rural, Eastern Canadian shop. For example, in my Old Testament class, we were talking about Jonah and were asked who would be our personal Ninevites. The first thing that popped into my head was anyone who shares the socio-cultural context of my birth. I get stuck in this tug of war of frustration and insecurity. I can't tell you why but every bone in my body seems to be different enough from this place to result in my repeatedly screwing up social or cultural convention.
I desperately want to be back out in the great wide somewhere. France, Italy, China, India, Thailand, Australia. I want to learn, discover, taste, feel, see, smell, trip over cobblestones... Now that I'm back in the motherland, I'm finding myself less than inspired. Plus, this weather... My itchy, wandering feet are old, worn-out news.
Friday night, I started watching Zero Dark Thirty because I'm an awards season junkie. Plus, Jessica Chastain is my girl. After 20 minutes and a couple of vicious torture scenes, I couldn't handle it. When a movie is based on real events, it enters in an uncomfortably close dimension to your own life. So, I watched the endings of my favorite rom-coms instead.
My mom turned 50 a week or so ago. One of my favorite things about my mom is the way she fights back against the harsh realities of life by loving every dog, stray kitten, and students that wanders into her life. Every time she sees my brother or I after a long period of separation, her voices has this higher excited pitch. That's the kind of love that defies reality's agenda. My mom is everything I hope to be in many ways, but more importantly, she gives me the freedom and courage to try and grasp who I am.
Who I am is the kind of girl who tries to watch Zero Dark Thirty for its reputation as great art. How does this reflect on my cultural predicament? I can't say that I have any world-changing conclusions to make tonight. I like anecdotes. I like raising questions. I like revelling in some blog narcissism because the Internet is judgment free when you're low profile. So here are my questions, regularly thrown heavenward... Why am I uninspired and often unhappy? Why do I have the world's oddest conglomeration of abilities and areas of interest? Why do I get so much wrong? Why the heck did I get sick when I have SO MUCH to accomplish? Why is Canada so cold? Why does the human heart breed ignorance and prejudice? How does one begin to chip away at what's wrong with the world? How does one begin to chip away at what's wrong with our hearts? Why do I wake up in the morning and keep going about my routine even when it feels meaningless?
I wish life was like an Ellie Goulding song. Have you listened to "Anything Could Happen" yet? Her opening Oohs are just shy of euphoric. To me, that euphoria represents my understanding of the love of God. It's the best hook of them all. It lifts up the doom and gloom prophecy pre-Jesus and then changes the world in Jesus' lifetime. So, I can't tell if my wrong-ness is a sign that I need to learn humility and assimilate better or that I'm just pushing the boundaries enough to embrace the fulness and mystery of our Father's love.
"You swore and said... We are not... We are not shining stars... This I know... I never said we are... If you're lost and alone and you're sinking like a stone, Carry On. May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground,
Carry On."
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