Enter title here, plus a late-night jumbly list of thoughts.

February 27, 2013

I’m procrastinating from a serious examination of the current contents of my skull. As metaphor’d before, I need to do some variation of this pretty often to keep the brain from overfilling, and at the rate the filing cabinets of my bonebox are currently filling up, I’m going to need to process regularly and often. I’m studying theology, for God’s sake.

Srsly. Not only is it study, which in itself crams the lockbox of my brain right up to the ventilation shafts with details and sends all the tiny people in my head scuttling madly around the HQ of their ivory bunker to pull out drawers that might have something, anything to do with the item being studied in order to compare it earnestly against the eighty different things they’ve removed from compartments as varied as T.S. Eliot to things written on bananas, but it’s study I am personally invested in. It’s study that intrinsically, deeply affects how I see myself and the people around me, study that digs through the bedrock of what I believe and turns some things to rubble and creates deep peat out of others. And since what I believe is basically the foundation of everything I do and think and feel, I am expecting to be deeply shaken this year, and hopefully as ploughed up as a decent field at the beginning of spring.* As such, I’m expecting to churn out pages and pages of thought entirely aside from the required however-many-thousand that gets marked.


Which of course means I’m going to procrastinate from doing so as soon as I get the chance by writing a blogpost. Sort of. Most of this blogpost seems to be taken up already with an explanation of my processing. And I was going to write about love and everything.


Next time. I should go Process About Today. For now, I leave you with these slightly jumbled insights from the storehouse hidden underneath my hair:**


1. Learning Ancient Greek makes me really, really excited. Seriously. I’m happy.


2. People at Carey are really, really friendly and open, and it’s really easy to strike up friendships with people and dive quickly into deep conversations because God is a pretty big, complicated thing-in-common. It’s really nice. And they give you free food. And lots of tea. That’s really nice too. Although I should probably bring my jar of honey to school or I will have diabetes by the time I leave (three sugars per cup of tea, three cups of tea per day…).


3. It startled me slightly today when I remembered how young Christians marry. Seriously. I swear every third person here is married. And a whole lot of them are around my age. It’s odd. I’ve been thinking a bit about this stuff lately (somewhat provoked by a conversation with a friend; I was all, “I have no idea what I’m doing or how I’m going to earn money after this year!” and her reply was an entirely serious, wholly unwitting, “hey, you never know, you might meet someone at Carey and get married and support your husband’s ministry!”, which was shortly followed by my appalled horror in response. Seriously. My kneejerk reaction to the idea of being anyone’s Ministry Support System Wife Thing is distinctly appalled horror, and I think rightly so-),
and it needs to be processed more outside of the public spectrum, but suffice to say: I’m not sure I approve of this for me. So I need to think carefully about it and make sure I set up mental guards against some things (SERIOUS KNEE-JERK APPALLEDNESS AND HORROR. NO. NOT SUPPORTING ANYBODY’S MINISTRY AS PART OF THEIR I-LOVE-MY-WIFE-AND-KIDS PACKAGE, THANKS. NO HOMEMAKER POP-OUT-THE-BABIES LOVING ADORATION SHE-KEEPS-THE-HOUSE-CLEAN APRONS FOR ME. YOUNG WHITE MIDDLE-CLASS EVANGELICAL-CHRISTIAN ‘COMPLIMENTARIAN’ AUGH, AUGH, AUGH. NO. JUST. NO.

seriously if I ever end up having a husband he can support my damn ministry. or you know, we can have our own individual if dovetailing ministries because I’m pretty egalitarian but what the hell seriously

uh yeah this needs to be processed somewhere else-)


4. Mostly everyone here, at Carey, wants to be at Carey. There’s no ‘I’m doing a BA because I have no idea what I want to do’. That’s the interesting thing about having one’s reason for living dovetail with what one is learning; everyone here is really passionate about being here and using what they learn. I mean, I’m in a school where the vocational tracks are things like ‘mission’ and ‘pastoral leadership’, and my god these people care deeply about what they’re doing and the people they’re doing it for. This matters to them. It’s integral to who they are.


5. Intense theological discussions in the library are everyday stuff. It’s really cool.


6. I’m trying at present to keep what I think and the way I think on the down-low. (And well I should, because it’s only been my second day at school.) I’m a little worried that, surrounded by a schoolful of fervent God-seeking pastors-and-missionaries-to-be, if I let out my thorny, raging, questions-and-knives Doubty McDoubterson cynicself, which is most of me when it comes to God, everyone’s going to start talking to me with that gleam in their eye, or at least in their hindbrain. I’m talking about the This Is The Heathen, We Should Set A Good Example/Evangelize/Bring Her To The True Understanding Of Christ gleam. And yes, I’m paranoid and uncharitable and I’m sure most people won’t be like this but some of them might. And I don’t want to be Fixed, thanks. I’m not going to be anyone’s pet project. And I would prefer it if people would tell me their stories without worrying that it was going to Keep Me From The Faith or- something (I’m probably being uncharitable; everyone I met has been seriously lovely).

Of course, Doubty McDoubterson probably can’t be kept under wraps long as it’s been two days in and I’m already known as the girl who uses frikkin’ in class. Because apparently frikkin’ is about the top when it comes to Christian swears at Carey.

I will admit to some gleeful anticipation for what’ll happen when I get really, hugely panicky and begin singing fucketyfucketyfuck with desperate and terrified abandon.


7. I’d forgotten something, having been out of a drenchedly-Christian environment for so long. It was a big, curious identity issue for me during university, with all the contrasts there between theatre and Christian Union; I’m really quite conservative when you compare me to thinking secular people, and I am all kinds of liberal rebelliousness when you put me up against thinking Christians. It’s hilarious. And interesting. I foresee walking that line again. I’m also considering finding something to do in my free time (what I have left of it- my god I’m going to have to do readings this year) that isn’t part of the Christian Enclave, for balance’s sake. Because seriously, no to the Happy Amish Commune. I need perspective.

(I’m pretty sure Facebook alone is supplying me all the perspective I need. How do I know so many left-wing activists?)


8. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I like this, I think. Cautiously. But I like this. I’m enjoying myself. I’m going to have to work, as in seriously work, because there’s this paper on Spirit and Trinity taken by a terrifyingly quick-minded, clever man and I stumbled out of the lecture going I’m going to die oh god I’m going to die, but- at the same time, I’m going to enjoy this, I think. I’m glad.

*I say ‘hopefully’ because I’m clearly a masochist and I like pain and being unsettled and terrified and overwhelmed and full of despair and stuff. Augh. How about: I’m hoping for this because I’m stupid and I don’t know when to give up? Or: I’m hoping for this because- hope is a foolish, dangerous thing and shouldn’t be given to small children in large doses, but oh, I wouldn’t live without it? Well. Literally. I wouldn’t be alive without it.
** okay, that was the worst metaphor out of the lot.

One Response to “Enter title here, plus a late-night jumbly list of thoughts.”

  1. qwandor Says:

    Dance in your free time, perhaps? Jasmine Taylor will know where you should go. Plenty of non-Christians, and plenty of hugs.

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