dead.
Not physically of course, according to any medically concerned person I would still be living. So what’s the deal? you ask.
Well, I feel dead. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally. All the -ally’s but mostly spiritually. I’ve been living in a dark hole for awhile. No, I’m not depressed. I still get up every morning, eat breakfast and attended to my daily duties. I haven’t been feeling suicidal or unable to function physically, that is. I have been noticing a lack of motivation however and I’m not quite sure where to begin as far as tackling this feeling...
I’m listening to Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”. I think it might be one of my favorite classical pieces ever. Hearing this piece brings one vivid memory in particular; my high school orchestra experience. I remember playing this as a second violin in the second chair next to Joy Nugent. I felt so proud to be the second chair of the second violin section (not that I really earned it, I never practiced) and tried my best to be a good section leader. I remember sitting in my chair, in my blue and khaki uniform, tapping my foot and counting silently in my head. I was wishing that I could be anywhere else. So I let the music carry me away wherever it wanted.
I was a daydreamer.
A church hazily came into view, people inside wearing dark colored clothing while someone up front seemed to be talking about a young girl. My funeral? It seemed like it, there was a picture of my face on the coffin. Morbid, I know but it happened. The daydream didn’t end there. The music carried me someplace else. This time I was standing with millions of others, outside it seemed with chaos surrounding me but I wasn’t concerned. I was focusing my gaze on something or rather, Someone else. Our eyes met, and He smiled and reached out a hand to me. I grabbed it immediately, my eyes never leaving His. Then it happened. There is a part of this piece, the last two minutes of the song, where the notes brighten almost celestially as if there is an ascension taking place.
I remember closing my eyes tightly during this part to keep the tears from flowing down my face. I was thinking, “ I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home with You,” as my bow strokes got stronger, longer and faster, my heart rate picked up speed. Instantly I felt as if I was being lifted out of my chair soaring closer, and closer to my Maker. Higher and higher the notes got. The melody and harmonies intertwined. Closer and closer I could see in the distance what He had been preparing all this time. Finally all would be well. Finally I could be with Him.
I opened my eyes, wetness and blurriness hindered my sight for a bit. I couldn’t reach up to wipe it away because the aria wasn’t over. The pause only allowed for me to start breathing again, I hadn’t even realized that I had been holding my breath. I had been clutching onto my bow for dear life, as if His hand had truly been in mine.
I tried as much as I could to compose myself to finish the remainder of Samuel’s masterpiece. I had just gotten a glimpse, as far as my imagination could take me, of meeting my Creator.
The song ended, and the bell rang proclaiming that the class period was over. My peers jumped out of their seats hastily putting away violins, violas and cello’s. I couldn’t move. I sat in my seat trying to re-live that moment in my mind.
What will it take to believe like a child again? At the tender age of 16, on that day, I was ready to go Home.
Today, older and hopefully a little bit wiser, unfortunately that same zeal isn’t there. I’ve seem to have lost it somehow. This time, it’s not tears of realization and joy that have temporarily blocked my sight. Life’s realities, pressures, and daily responsibilities have clouded my vision. I've made a decision today and I hope it lasts. I’m not going to let it get me down. I’m going to fight it. I’m going to let Him fight it. We’re going to fight it.
I want to believe like a child again. It’s the only way.
“He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: ‘ I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’
- Matthew 18: 2-4
P.S- If you've got 5 min to spare I recommend listening to this song. Maybe then you'll be able to understand what I felt.
Don't mind the cheesy text.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dPDO3Tfab0
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
AVORIAZ
Yesterday I went snowboarding for the first time in my life.
In the French Alps.
My body hates me.
It was an amazing experience. I will probably do it again.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
7.0
I just got the news.
I checked out CNN and all I kept seeing was "poorest country in the western hemisphere" and "below poverty line"
What does it matter? Is that an incentive to get people to help more? That really annoyed me.
They need help. That's all that really matters.
I love how the media likes to shed light on how poor Haiti is but doesn't remark ever about its beautiful beaches, mountains and rich culture.
I love how they forget to mention that Haiti was the first independent country in the western hemisphere...SECOND ONLY TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Or how the U.S occupied Haiti during 1915-1934 and stripped Haiti of all it's agriculture, coal, gold...etc. I just find that interesting.
I checked out CNN and all I kept seeing was "poorest country in the western hemisphere" and "below poverty line"
What does it matter? Is that an incentive to get people to help more? That really annoyed me.
They need help. That's all that really matters.
I love how the media likes to shed light on how poor Haiti is but doesn't remark ever about its beautiful beaches, mountains and rich culture.
I love how they forget to mention that Haiti was the first independent country in the western hemisphere...SECOND ONLY TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Or how the U.S occupied Haiti during 1915-1934 and stripped Haiti of all it's agriculture, coal, gold...etc. I just find that interesting.
Monday, January 11, 2010
"So have you met someone?"
Today overall has been a good and somewhat productive day. I went to my classes despite the -10 degree weather and the foot of snow, I can only imagine what states like Florida, and Tennessee must be going through *insert sarcasm here*. I did some well needed laundry, my homework for the day after tomorrow, I even got to sneak in a couple episodes of How I met Your Mother, AND they served lasagna for dinner today!
Afterwards I called my father on Skype because he was finally online. It had been awhile since we had been able to speak so I was a little excited (I'm a daddy's girl). Then, it happened. Not more than five minutes into the conversation my dear, darling father asked,
"So, have you met someone?"
"Yes dad, I meet people everyday."
"hmmm"
"What are you trying to ask me dad?"
" Mmm... (looks down at his desk) If you've met someone, simple, that's it."
"Um, well no. I've got other things on my mind right now, that don't pertain to that at all."
"Umhmm well, I'm praying. (Looks me square in the face, well as much as you can via Skype) You shouldn't leave college without a mate."
(eyes bulging out of my face as I burst into robust laughter. He smiles. It's strained.)
We change the topic.
This seems to be a reoccurring exchange of words between my father and I.
I sense some anxiousness on his part.
Poor thing.
Afterwards I called my father on Skype because he was finally online. It had been awhile since we had been able to speak so I was a little excited (I'm a daddy's girl). Then, it happened. Not more than five minutes into the conversation my dear, darling father asked,
"So, have you met someone?"
"Yes dad, I meet people everyday."
"hmmm"
"What are you trying to ask me dad?"
" Mmm... (looks down at his desk) If you've met someone, simple, that's it."
"Um, well no. I've got other things on my mind right now, that don't pertain to that at all."
"Umhmm well, I'm praying. (Looks me square in the face, well as much as you can via Skype) You shouldn't leave college without a mate."
(eyes bulging out of my face as I burst into robust laughter. He smiles. It's strained.)
We change the topic.
This seems to be a reoccurring exchange of words between my father and I.
I sense some anxiousness on his part.
Poor thing.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
French Fun Facts- according to yours truly
Well I have been living in France now for about 4 months officially, although it feels like years, and have made some observations on the people I have come into contact with.
WARNING: Some of this information might shock you. Or not.
*Parisians hate Americans (well, just the Bush administration really)
I had a guy tell me that he's always wanted to visit the states but because Bush was in office, he wouldn't allow himself to step on American soil. Now that we are under a new president, he said he will be planning a trip soon.
In my frequent trips to Paris, I noticed that Parisians (not all) are just in general, aggressive with everyone, even amongst themselves. To my surprise however, most of the Parisians I came into contact with where nice and helpful.
*French people are known not to shower frequently
This is true. Even a native French woman told me.
I have experienced intense body odor. EVERYWHERE.
People often wear the same outfit 3 or 4 days in a row (pit stains and all). I'm all for conserving water but c'mon wet wipes aren't just for babies.
*French women DO shave their armpits and legs
Although in the wintertime, it doesn't happen as much but who am I kidding? I usually partake in the same non-shaving rituals during the colder months as well. Makes sense.
*EVERYONE in France, particularly in Paris, smokes!
That's what it felt like anyway. Billows of smoke met and followed me everywhere I went.
Young, old...infants...ok, maybe I'm kidding about the infants but they might as well be, since their parents were sucking the deadliness in for them.
* The French think their language is the prettiest, and hate when you slaughter it
This is very true.
In September my friend and I were shopping at Zara. While we were in the dressing room, she needed to exchange a dress for another size. She gingerly stuck her head out of her stall and asked on of the workers in very bad french if she could get some help. With her nose stuck in the air, the lady said coldly " Aye speak ze english." At that point, I stuck my head out of my stall and gave my friend a sympathetic look.
*French people don't like to work.
Also not a falsehood.
Two days ago some handy men where in my room because apparently my shower was leaking to the first floor somehow. The dean informed me that two men would be arriving to break some tile and try to figure out where this leak was coming from. The appointment was made for wednesday at 1pm.
They arrived today.
Also, they love them some vacations. Every month or so, I have had a vacation for a decent amount of time. I'm not complaining though, more traveling for me!
* They love cheese.
Well they should. They have over 200 different kinds. We have at least three different cheeses for lunch everyday.
*French Fashion
Everyone always says that Paris is one of the fashion capitals of the world. Most people just wear black though. I don't know how much of that is fashion or just conformity, or maybe there's no difference. Anywho, most Parisians are really well dressed, they just look like they're going to funerals at high noon.
*Obsession with English and American music
I have found that time and again I meet people here who know all the popular American songs. My favorite, was when I was in a pub in Paris with some friends and a song came on that apparently is really popular in the States. A chorus of voices in that pub started sang the lyrics perfectly. At the end of the song, the guy next to me asked me what the words meant. Nice.
*PDA accepted
I have never seen so much PDA in my life ( not even in front of Thatcher Hall)
I was in the metro, minding my own business when I hear slurping, yes slurping noises near me. Through the reflection of the window in front of me, I witnessed as a couple thoroughly enjoyed each other's salivary glands. No joke.
Some people clearly don't find it a problem to reproduce in public.
Although it seems like I am bashing this culture I'm really not- these are facts that I have discovered and obviously doesn't involve everyone...just most from what I've seen... I've grown to have an appreciation for the French culture and the people; their passion..and well, their passion.
Well, that's all for now folks. Maybe as the year keeps going I will discover more mind boggling stuff. I'll be sure to keep you posted.
WARNING: Some of this information might shock you. Or not.
*Parisians hate Americans (well, just the Bush administration really)
I had a guy tell me that he's always wanted to visit the states but because Bush was in office, he wouldn't allow himself to step on American soil. Now that we are under a new president, he said he will be planning a trip soon.
In my frequent trips to Paris, I noticed that Parisians (not all) are just in general, aggressive with everyone, even amongst themselves. To my surprise however, most of the Parisians I came into contact with where nice and helpful.
*French people are known not to shower frequently
This is true. Even a native French woman told me.
I have experienced intense body odor. EVERYWHERE.
People often wear the same outfit 3 or 4 days in a row (pit stains and all). I'm all for conserving water but c'mon wet wipes aren't just for babies.
*French women DO shave their armpits and legs
Although in the wintertime, it doesn't happen as much but who am I kidding? I usually partake in the same non-shaving rituals during the colder months as well. Makes sense.
*EVERYONE in France, particularly in Paris, smokes!
That's what it felt like anyway. Billows of smoke met and followed me everywhere I went.
Young, old...infants...ok, maybe I'm kidding about the infants but they might as well be, since their parents were sucking the deadliness in for them.
* The French think their language is the prettiest, and hate when you slaughter it
This is very true.
In September my friend and I were shopping at Zara. While we were in the dressing room, she needed to exchange a dress for another size. She gingerly stuck her head out of her stall and asked on of the workers in very bad french if she could get some help. With her nose stuck in the air, the lady said coldly " Aye speak ze english." At that point, I stuck my head out of my stall and gave my friend a sympathetic look.
*French people don't like to work.
Also not a falsehood.
Two days ago some handy men where in my room because apparently my shower was leaking to the first floor somehow. The dean informed me that two men would be arriving to break some tile and try to figure out where this leak was coming from. The appointment was made for wednesday at 1pm.
They arrived today.
Also, they love them some vacations. Every month or so, I have had a vacation for a decent amount of time. I'm not complaining though, more traveling for me!
* They love cheese.
Well they should. They have over 200 different kinds. We have at least three different cheeses for lunch everyday.
*French Fashion
Everyone always says that Paris is one of the fashion capitals of the world. Most people just wear black though. I don't know how much of that is fashion or just conformity, or maybe there's no difference. Anywho, most Parisians are really well dressed, they just look like they're going to funerals at high noon.
*Obsession with English and American music
I have found that time and again I meet people here who know all the popular American songs. My favorite, was when I was in a pub in Paris with some friends and a song came on that apparently is really popular in the States. A chorus of voices in that pub started sang the lyrics perfectly. At the end of the song, the guy next to me asked me what the words meant. Nice.
*PDA accepted
I have never seen so much PDA in my life ( not even in front of Thatcher Hall)
I was in the metro, minding my own business when I hear slurping, yes slurping noises near me. Through the reflection of the window in front of me, I witnessed as a couple thoroughly enjoyed each other's salivary glands. No joke.
Some people clearly don't find it a problem to reproduce in public.
Although it seems like I am bashing this culture I'm really not- these are facts that I have discovered and obviously doesn't involve everyone...just most from what I've seen... I've grown to have an appreciation for the French culture and the people; their passion..and well, their passion.
Well, that's all for now folks. Maybe as the year keeps going I will discover more mind boggling stuff. I'll be sure to keep you posted.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Colors of the Wind
Yesterday in church there was communion.
During the breaking of bread, the pianist played "Colors of the Wind" from the Disney movie, Pocahontas.
I had a little, quiet giggle session because it was just so random. The pastor was talking about accepting the body of Christ in form of bread and all of a sudden an image of Meeko and Percy popped into my head.
A month before, in the church's orchestra, we took a trip to Marseilles to play at another adventist church and we played "Colors of the Wind" and "Irish music in 3rd class" from Titanic.
Those French people really like their movie soundtracks.
During the breaking of bread, the pianist played "Colors of the Wind" from the Disney movie, Pocahontas.
I had a little, quiet giggle session because it was just so random. The pastor was talking about accepting the body of Christ in form of bread and all of a sudden an image of Meeko and Percy popped into my head.
A month before, in the church's orchestra, we took a trip to Marseilles to play at another adventist church and we played "Colors of the Wind" and "Irish music in 3rd class" from Titanic.
Those French people really like their movie soundtracks.
