Seth Godin, author, marketer, and innovative thinker, recently published a 30,000 word manifesto in which he imagines a different set of goals for education. His e-book, "Stop Stealing Dreams," is available to the public free of charge; it's thought-provoking and intended to spark important conversations about educational reform. Check it out (and download the e-book!): http://www.squidoo.com/stop-stealing-dreams.
Godin's manifesto mirrors the gadfly-of-a-question posed by 17th century mathematician and astronomer, Johannes Kepler: "Why are things the way they are and not otherwise?" Godin argues that in the current education system students are like cogs in a capitalist machine: learning how to become productive, obedient workers and maintain the status quo of a failing system. Students learn how to pass standardized tests and jump through hoops at the expense of exploring their passions, creativity, and leadership skills. And what kind of life have we lived if we've only ever done what we're told (#snoozefest!). Godin also discusses the repercussions of a society in which intellectualism and independent thinking are on the decline, and fear is on the upswing. !No bueno! The manifesto is intended to generate conversation and ideas. !Bueno!
Godin's blog is also worth checking out: http://sethgodin.typepad.com/. It rivals this magnificent new, cutting edge, upcoming blog called blueworld10.blogspot.com. Also, Seth's blog made me realize that when it comes to blog posts (and many other things in life), brevity is beautiful.
Addendum: WWJD? What would the Jesuits do? Service is another important educational goal!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Wisdom of Love
I still have a headache from my other post so I thought I'd keep it simple with this one. Check out "A Wisdom Story" from Anthony De Mello, SJ:
I was a neurotic for years. I was anxious and depressed and selfish. And everyone kept telling me to change. And everyone kept telling me how neurotic I was. And I resented them, and I agreed with them, and I wanted to change, but I just couldn't bring myself to change, no matter how hard I tried. What hurt the most was that my best friend also kept telling me how neurotic I was. He too kept insisting that I change. And I agreed with him too, though I couldn't bring myself to resent him. And I felt so powerless and so trapped. Then one day he said to me, "Don't change. Stay as you are. It really doesn't matter whether you change or not. I love you just the way you are; I cannot help loving you." These words sounded like music to my ears: "Don't change. Don't change. Don't change. I love you." And I relaxed. And I came alive. And, oh wondrous marvel, I changed.
In truth, I have been having a really hard time since moving to Boston because I keep wanting to change things. I miss California; I miss living in community; I miss having my work and life interconnected; I miss the carefree nature of being in a program; I miss the sunshine, and the meaning that comes with serving others. I have been moody (euphemism), disconnected and disengaged in Boston. So I keep seeking change: Should I move? Apply to grad school? Sign up for an internship with Episcopalian monks in Cambridge? Work on a Navajo reservation in New Mexico? Give up Facebook? Start a blog? Read more? Search for answers in organizations, churches, and meaningful work? Volunteer? Explore the arts as an outlet? Chill out and kick it with friends more often? I fear complacency and getting "stuck" so it's hard not to want change--and not to think that a solution to my worries will come from some kind of change. I want to end this post by saying that I have reached a point of calm. That I honestly and completely trust the process and value the journey--and that everything works out when you place love and relationships at the center of your life. I know that this is the right mindset, but I don't think I'm quite there yet. Almost, maybe, but not quite. Especially because I haven't let go of the idea that I need some kind of change in order for things to fall into place...
In any case, De Mello's words were comforting to me, and I truly trust in the wisdom that he shares; I think I just also have to trust myself. I'm heading to California next week--probably indirectly searching for answers through the trip. Regardless, I'll be kickin' it with some of the most loving people I know. :)
Till next time!
CoOnEy
I was a neurotic for years. I was anxious and depressed and selfish. And everyone kept telling me to change. And everyone kept telling me how neurotic I was. And I resented them, and I agreed with them, and I wanted to change, but I just couldn't bring myself to change, no matter how hard I tried. What hurt the most was that my best friend also kept telling me how neurotic I was. He too kept insisting that I change. And I agreed with him too, though I couldn't bring myself to resent him. And I felt so powerless and so trapped. Then one day he said to me, "Don't change. Stay as you are. It really doesn't matter whether you change or not. I love you just the way you are; I cannot help loving you." These words sounded like music to my ears: "Don't change. Don't change. Don't change. I love you." And I relaxed. And I came alive. And, oh wondrous marvel, I changed.
In truth, I have been having a really hard time since moving to Boston because I keep wanting to change things. I miss California; I miss living in community; I miss having my work and life interconnected; I miss the carefree nature of being in a program; I miss the sunshine, and the meaning that comes with serving others. I have been moody (euphemism), disconnected and disengaged in Boston. So I keep seeking change: Should I move? Apply to grad school? Sign up for an internship with Episcopalian monks in Cambridge? Work on a Navajo reservation in New Mexico? Give up Facebook? Start a blog? Read more? Search for answers in organizations, churches, and meaningful work? Volunteer? Explore the arts as an outlet? Chill out and kick it with friends more often? I fear complacency and getting "stuck" so it's hard not to want change--and not to think that a solution to my worries will come from some kind of change. I want to end this post by saying that I have reached a point of calm. That I honestly and completely trust the process and value the journey--and that everything works out when you place love and relationships at the center of your life. I know that this is the right mindset, but I don't think I'm quite there yet. Almost, maybe, but not quite. Especially because I haven't let go of the idea that I need some kind of change in order for things to fall into place...
In any case, De Mello's words were comforting to me, and I truly trust in the wisdom that he shares; I think I just also have to trust myself. I'm heading to California next week--probably indirectly searching for answers through the trip. Regardless, I'll be kickin' it with some of the most loving people I know. :)
Till next time!
CoOnEy
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Upcoming Writing Projects
I have been having difficulty maintaining a writing routine due to my current erratic schedule (lots of random events and traveling), and, unfortunately, I think the quality and quantity of my posts have been subpar as a result. I am going to set up some writing projects so my next posts can be more focused (and, hopefully, more engaging!). Somehow I need to increase my readership as well, especially because I no longer self-promote on Facebook since I am taking a break from social networking for Lent (and since I have mixed feelings about self-promoting in general). In any case, here are some brewing thoughts:
1. The next two books on my reading list are Re-Claiming the Bible for a Non-Religious World by John Shelby Spong and Imagine Ourselves Richly by my former professor, Chris Vecsey. I think both books (and authors) will raise some interesting conversations about religion so I hope to summarize the two--and examine the relationship between them...
Spong, a progressive Christian writer and Episcopalian bishop, "frees readers from a literal view of the Bible." He delves into the history and literature of Biblical narratives, "examining the background, the context, the level of authenticity, and even the trustworthiness of messages found there." What does it mean to be a deeply committed and informed 21st century Christian? Spong suggests that this requires a re-reading (or re-claiming) of the Bible--one that considers the realities of religion in a post-modern, scientific, and secular society. For example, Spong suggests that the miracles inherent in the New Testament are not meant to refer to divine magic. Rather, he contends that Biblical authors used the language of miracles as a literary device to describe the inexplicable encounter with the historical figure of Jesus. The loaves and the fishes; the miracles of healing; walking on water: such language was invoked to explain a profound--perhaps even divine--experience with someone (Christ). Spong asserts that this historical, critical analysis of the Bible is crucial to the flourishing of faith in our present society. (Another one of Spong's books is entitled Why Christianity Must Change or Die: A Bishop Speaks to Believers in Exile.)
I really hope I can stay focused enough to read Spong's writing closely. I may even re-read some of his past books so I can summarize his ideas to my two readers (Mom and "wildcard reader of the day"). I think his thoughts are worth reading and considering--and he would suggest they're necessary to integrate into one's perspective on faith. To be honest, I have never really read the Bible in depth, and I have even used Sparknotes in past classes because I find some of the stories confusing and boring (see you soon, Hades!). But as I grow older, I am continuously in awe by the the extent to which the Bible has endured over time. Why is this book held as sacred and authoritative by so many people--over so much time? What Biblical messages are authentic--and which have been skewed (particularly by people in power)? What's up with miracles--literary devices or not? Who would describe someone as a healer of the blind; what was Jesus really like? What can we learn from the profound experiences of intimacy, community and love in this text? Why don't I sit around a table and share food with peeps more often? What are some modern-day interpretations of heaven? How is Spong still a "deeply committed Christian"? I'm sure, like most of my questions in life, that these questions don't have clear-cut answers, but I'm looking forward to exploring them with Spong (that Spong, Spong, Spong, Spong, Spong).
Whereas Spong encourages readers to imagine a new Jesus and a new faith, in Imagine Ourselves Richly, Chris Vecsey contends that American Indian myths "can help us extend our concept of who we are", thus "removing Native American religious traditions from the fantastical "other" to the rich contextual importance of contemporary living religions." I think that the juxtaposition of Spong's and Vecsey's theses casts an interesting light on religion and faith. Both authors suggest that religions offer us something: a glimpse into the divine, spiritual transcendence, and a more profound understanding of ourselves, our communities, and our world. But I think it can be hard to reconcile an academic appreciation of religion with a yearning to have sincerely held religious convictions and a commitment to a particular religious community. If, from a removed, academic perspective, we can learn about a profound experience of love and self-giving through stories about Jesus Christ and then come to the conclusion that American Indian myths and stories indicate that "examining life's possibilities and problems accomplishes nothing if it takes place apart from the life-sustaining web of human, environmental, and spiritual relations" (p. xi), then why commit to any one religious tradition? And how can one seek to believe in---and perhaps even surrender to--any one tradition given the significance, gifts, and historical accuracy of all other traditions? I hope to discuss Spong's and Vecsey's books in one post so that I can put them in conversation with each other. Spong offers a critical insider perspective as a "deeply committed 21st century Christian", which Vecsey speaks to the value of learning about diverse religions from an appreciative, academic, outsider perspective.
After writing this post, I realize that I may have to set subgoals for this first writing "project". Perhaps I will first explore Spong in depth; then Vecsey; and then analyze them simultaneously. I may have to break up posts based on questions too, because addressing more than 1-3 questions per post might diminish the quality of the post. So, this is my first project (suggestions or particular interests are welcomed!). I have a few other writing projects in mind, but I will try to present them more succintly in an effort to be concise!
2. Kids Learn Poise Through Dance:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/06/16/earlyshow/living/studyhall/main702383.shtml
My co-worker told me about this article today, and I'd really like to use it as a platform to explore the relationship between art (perhaps specifically dance) in shaping development and relationships. So on the one hand I want to explore the idea of ballroom dancing as an educational tool in urban education programs--and the importance of creative pedagogical approaches. Furthermore, this article sparked some thoughts about the relationship between dance, theology, and psychology. We imagine our world and our relationships through so many lenses: theological, familial, psychological, etc. How do our perspectives change when our lives are enriched by the arts--such as dance? Partner dancing forces us to view movement, space, and relationships in a different perspective. Imagine meeting a person and thinking "I would love to dance with you." Or imagine having the confidence, poise, and grace to perform a routine on the stage. I could see how dance lessons could transform people--and kids. Shoutout to Lauren Kerby!
Building on the idea of psychology and education: I am also interested in exploring unique methods to build resilience and coping skills in students--and to create a culture of hope in a school. I'd really like to write about my experiences working in Sacred Heart Nativity Schools in San Jose, CA last year and how the Jesuit ethos and Nativity Miguel model shaped the school--and its students. Reflections, field trips, summer leadership camp, an emphasis on knowing, valuing, and loving students...all buzz words for the second part of this writing project! Note to self: also talk about tango, OUS Summer Institiute, Summer Search, and mirror neurons
3. Boston Area Religions (BAR Hopping): Authenticity, religious experiences, diversity
My friend, Melissa, recently formed a group at Harvard Divinity School called "BAR Hopping" ("BAR" is an acronym for "Boston Area Religions" (clever!! :)). Basically, this group of HDS students attends a different religious service each week, enriching and diversifying their perspectives on faith and religion. Being the kind and thoughtful person that she is, Melissa invites me to all BAR Hopping events. I hope to blog about this experience from time to time, focusing on thoughts related to my first writing project. How do diverse religious experiences affect our perspectives of faith and religion--and our own unique religious identities? Again: how do we sort through these questions of religious identity in light of what we learn and experience? Can we "authentically" experience other faiths from an outsider perspective? How can we remain grounded in a singular tradition when BAR Hopping--and when being open to the authenticity of all other religious services? Is the outsider perspective (e.g. is "BAR Hopping") authentic? I want to make some jokes about how I'm sure BAR Hopping will be an intoxifying experience; how I wonder if I will ever reach my limit with BAR Hopping; and how one should not "drink triple, see double, and act single" when BAR Hopping, but I won't.
4. Intimacy and Community: Retreat with Wayne Meisel; JVC experience; compartmentalized nature of life as a 20-something year old. NYT article Tara sent, "The Talent Society" (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/21/opinion/brooks-the-talent-society.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=the%20talent%20society&st=cse)
I attended a retreat for current young adults in faith-based volunteer programs a few weekends ago, and the speaker, Wayne Meisel, shared some interesting insights on faith, service, intimacy, and community. I hope to juxtapose my reflections from this retreat--and from Wayne Meisel's talk--with a New York Times article my sister recently sent me, "The Talent Society." In this article, Brooks argues that creative potential and talent is maximized in our increasingly individualistic Western society, but perhaps at the expense of marginalized populations (who tend to thrive in more tight knit communities). I want to explore the role of faith and the ideals of Christian community and service as counter-cultural forces--given the sociological reality Brooks presents in his article. There are pros and cons to both sides; I hope to delve into these.
I might even throw in an examination of a youtube video by Terri Trespicio about a changing perspective on single life. Terri illumines the pros of single life--and the fact that a lack of a relationship is not indicative of failure, inadequacy, etc. Sometimes I think faith perspectives--in an effort to suggest that long-term, committed relationships correspond with human flourishing--can undermine the richness in the diversity of life choices and paths. In this light: to what extent is the "counter-cultural" pro-community faith perspective essential to counterbalancing the rise of individualism, if at all? Perhaps I need to separate this "project" into a few posts as well..
5. American Catholic Identity (Peter Steinfels, Jerome Baggett, Charles E. Curran)
All of these authors have intersting views about what it means to be an American Catholic in the 21st century--sociologically, spiritually, practically, culturally, professionally, etc. Sometimes the institutional nature of the Catholic Church seems inherently at odds with the Protestant nature of our American identity. So many factors affect expressions of Catholicism in America as well: political leanings, socio-economic status, culture, geographic location, personal pereferences, etc. "Catholic" means "universal", but Catholic identities are inevitable nuanced and multi-faceted...what does this mean in terms of Catholic education, faith, and spirituality in America? I hope to explore these thoughts in greater depth.
6. Exploration of Kurt Vonnegut and Religion: Humanism perspective; view of religion as an imgined reality
I have been meaning to get my Vonnegut on. I hope to start with Sirens of Titan, a novel highly recommended by some friends who read it in a religious seminar class at Colgate University (a seminar that I didn't end up taking because I was overwhelmed by my religious questions at the time and I thought it might put me over the edge...).
7. Psychology and Religion: Mental illness, spirituality, cross-culural psychology and psychotherapy (via psychologists vs. religious communities). There's a post on the Colgate India blog about an experience in a Hindu temple: observing a religious healing ceremony for an individual afflicted with mental illness. I'm really interested in cross-cultural perspectives of and treatment for mental illness. The evolution of healing (from religous, community-oriented perspectives to scientific, individualized therapy) is fascinating as well.
8. Tolerance and Pluralism: Religious Diversity— inclusiveness and identity (pair with #3?). L. Kerby: guest post?
9. Mapping Catholicism in Boston: Boston for Catholic Education (BACE), Jesuit Collaborative/Young Adult Network, Catholic Schools Foundation, Campaign for Catholic Schools, Cristo Rey Network, Archdiocese of Boston, Nativity Schools in Boston, Catholic Charities, Earthen Vessels, FJV network, current JV presence, Boston College and other schools, sisters, churches, etc.
(Since moving to Boston, I have rather obsessively connected with various Catholic leaders, organizations, professionals, churches, etc. In an effort to better understand questions related to Catholic identity, I've taken up a hobby of investigating Catholicism in Boston. In my defense, it stemmed from joblessness (but also from personal fascination, and an ongoing identity crisis.))
10. Jesuit post about life coming from death (the bee hive in the skull imagery (this is just a note to myself; I'll explain the post in the project)) Focus: Change, spirituality, consolation/desolation
11. Lethargy and the workplace (blahh!). 9-to-5 on the computer, time budgeting, and health
12. Spirituality (Nouwen, Merton, Mother Theresa, etc.)
Okay, this was a mega post! I hope to tackle these writing projects one at a time, but I might also write lighter, more personal posts inbetween to keep me sane. Also, I have been struggling to find a regular writing routine, and I will be traveling quite a bit these next few weeks, so I anticipate some delays with posts. Lastly, let me know if you have any ideas or suggestions--or if you're interested in a particular project (Mom, maybe I should just ask you directly?).
Oh! And, I think I have to start joining other blogs and posting more consistently (and perhaps under some umbrella theme) to increase readership. Let me know if you have any suggestions on that as well.
Thanks for reading! (Sorry for all the re-publishing of posts; I'm having trouble with spacing!)
1. The next two books on my reading list are Re-Claiming the Bible for a Non-Religious World by John Shelby Spong and Imagine Ourselves Richly by my former professor, Chris Vecsey. I think both books (and authors) will raise some interesting conversations about religion so I hope to summarize the two--and examine the relationship between them...
Spong, a progressive Christian writer and Episcopalian bishop, "frees readers from a literal view of the Bible." He delves into the history and literature of Biblical narratives, "examining the background, the context, the level of authenticity, and even the trustworthiness of messages found there." What does it mean to be a deeply committed and informed 21st century Christian? Spong suggests that this requires a re-reading (or re-claiming) of the Bible--one that considers the realities of religion in a post-modern, scientific, and secular society. For example, Spong suggests that the miracles inherent in the New Testament are not meant to refer to divine magic. Rather, he contends that Biblical authors used the language of miracles as a literary device to describe the inexplicable encounter with the historical figure of Jesus. The loaves and the fishes; the miracles of healing; walking on water: such language was invoked to explain a profound--perhaps even divine--experience with someone (Christ). Spong asserts that this historical, critical analysis of the Bible is crucial to the flourishing of faith in our present society. (Another one of Spong's books is entitled Why Christianity Must Change or Die: A Bishop Speaks to Believers in Exile.)
I really hope I can stay focused enough to read Spong's writing closely. I may even re-read some of his past books so I can summarize his ideas to my two readers (Mom and "wildcard reader of the day"). I think his thoughts are worth reading and considering--and he would suggest they're necessary to integrate into one's perspective on faith. To be honest, I have never really read the Bible in depth, and I have even used Sparknotes in past classes because I find some of the stories confusing and boring (see you soon, Hades!). But as I grow older, I am continuously in awe by the the extent to which the Bible has endured over time. Why is this book held as sacred and authoritative by so many people--over so much time? What Biblical messages are authentic--and which have been skewed (particularly by people in power)? What's up with miracles--literary devices or not? Who would describe someone as a healer of the blind; what was Jesus really like? What can we learn from the profound experiences of intimacy, community and love in this text? Why don't I sit around a table and share food with peeps more often? What are some modern-day interpretations of heaven? How is Spong still a "deeply committed Christian"? I'm sure, like most of my questions in life, that these questions don't have clear-cut answers, but I'm looking forward to exploring them with Spong (that Spong, Spong, Spong, Spong, Spong).
Whereas Spong encourages readers to imagine a new Jesus and a new faith, in Imagine Ourselves Richly, Chris Vecsey contends that American Indian myths "can help us extend our concept of who we are", thus "removing Native American religious traditions from the fantastical "other" to the rich contextual importance of contemporary living religions." I think that the juxtaposition of Spong's and Vecsey's theses casts an interesting light on religion and faith. Both authors suggest that religions offer us something: a glimpse into the divine, spiritual transcendence, and a more profound understanding of ourselves, our communities, and our world. But I think it can be hard to reconcile an academic appreciation of religion with a yearning to have sincerely held religious convictions and a commitment to a particular religious community. If, from a removed, academic perspective, we can learn about a profound experience of love and self-giving through stories about Jesus Christ and then come to the conclusion that American Indian myths and stories indicate that "examining life's possibilities and problems accomplishes nothing if it takes place apart from the life-sustaining web of human, environmental, and spiritual relations" (p. xi), then why commit to any one religious tradition? And how can one seek to believe in---and perhaps even surrender to--any one tradition given the significance, gifts, and historical accuracy of all other traditions? I hope to discuss Spong's and Vecsey's books in one post so that I can put them in conversation with each other. Spong offers a critical insider perspective as a "deeply committed 21st century Christian", which Vecsey speaks to the value of learning about diverse religions from an appreciative, academic, outsider perspective.
After writing this post, I realize that I may have to set subgoals for this first writing "project". Perhaps I will first explore Spong in depth; then Vecsey; and then analyze them simultaneously. I may have to break up posts based on questions too, because addressing more than 1-3 questions per post might diminish the quality of the post. So, this is my first project (suggestions or particular interests are welcomed!). I have a few other writing projects in mind, but I will try to present them more succintly in an effort to be concise!
2. Kids Learn Poise Through Dance:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/06/16/earlyshow/living/studyhall/main702383.shtml
My co-worker told me about this article today, and I'd really like to use it as a platform to explore the relationship between art (perhaps specifically dance) in shaping development and relationships. So on the one hand I want to explore the idea of ballroom dancing as an educational tool in urban education programs--and the importance of creative pedagogical approaches. Furthermore, this article sparked some thoughts about the relationship between dance, theology, and psychology. We imagine our world and our relationships through so many lenses: theological, familial, psychological, etc. How do our perspectives change when our lives are enriched by the arts--such as dance? Partner dancing forces us to view movement, space, and relationships in a different perspective. Imagine meeting a person and thinking "I would love to dance with you." Or imagine having the confidence, poise, and grace to perform a routine on the stage. I could see how dance lessons could transform people--and kids. Shoutout to Lauren Kerby!
Building on the idea of psychology and education: I am also interested in exploring unique methods to build resilience and coping skills in students--and to create a culture of hope in a school. I'd really like to write about my experiences working in Sacred Heart Nativity Schools in San Jose, CA last year and how the Jesuit ethos and Nativity Miguel model shaped the school--and its students. Reflections, field trips, summer leadership camp, an emphasis on knowing, valuing, and loving students...all buzz words for the second part of this writing project! Note to self: also talk about tango, OUS Summer Institiute, Summer Search, and mirror neurons
3. Boston Area Religions (BAR Hopping): Authenticity, religious experiences, diversity
My friend, Melissa, recently formed a group at Harvard Divinity School called "BAR Hopping" ("BAR" is an acronym for "Boston Area Religions" (clever!! :)). Basically, this group of HDS students attends a different religious service each week, enriching and diversifying their perspectives on faith and religion. Being the kind and thoughtful person that she is, Melissa invites me to all BAR Hopping events. I hope to blog about this experience from time to time, focusing on thoughts related to my first writing project. How do diverse religious experiences affect our perspectives of faith and religion--and our own unique religious identities? Again: how do we sort through these questions of religious identity in light of what we learn and experience? Can we "authentically" experience other faiths from an outsider perspective? How can we remain grounded in a singular tradition when BAR Hopping--and when being open to the authenticity of all other religious services? Is the outsider perspective (e.g. is "BAR Hopping") authentic? I want to make some jokes about how I'm sure BAR Hopping will be an intoxifying experience; how I wonder if I will ever reach my limit with BAR Hopping; and how one should not "drink triple, see double, and act single" when BAR Hopping, but I won't.
4. Intimacy and Community: Retreat with Wayne Meisel; JVC experience; compartmentalized nature of life as a 20-something year old. NYT article Tara sent, "The Talent Society" (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/21/opinion/brooks-the-talent-society.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=the%20talent%20society&st=cse)
I attended a retreat for current young adults in faith-based volunteer programs a few weekends ago, and the speaker, Wayne Meisel, shared some interesting insights on faith, service, intimacy, and community. I hope to juxtapose my reflections from this retreat--and from Wayne Meisel's talk--with a New York Times article my sister recently sent me, "The Talent Society." In this article, Brooks argues that creative potential and talent is maximized in our increasingly individualistic Western society, but perhaps at the expense of marginalized populations (who tend to thrive in more tight knit communities). I want to explore the role of faith and the ideals of Christian community and service as counter-cultural forces--given the sociological reality Brooks presents in his article. There are pros and cons to both sides; I hope to delve into these.
I might even throw in an examination of a youtube video by Terri Trespicio about a changing perspective on single life. Terri illumines the pros of single life--and the fact that a lack of a relationship is not indicative of failure, inadequacy, etc. Sometimes I think faith perspectives--in an effort to suggest that long-term, committed relationships correspond with human flourishing--can undermine the richness in the diversity of life choices and paths. In this light: to what extent is the "counter-cultural" pro-community faith perspective essential to counterbalancing the rise of individualism, if at all? Perhaps I need to separate this "project" into a few posts as well..
5. American Catholic Identity (Peter Steinfels, Jerome Baggett, Charles E. Curran)
All of these authors have intersting views about what it means to be an American Catholic in the 21st century--sociologically, spiritually, practically, culturally, professionally, etc. Sometimes the institutional nature of the Catholic Church seems inherently at odds with the Protestant nature of our American identity. So many factors affect expressions of Catholicism in America as well: political leanings, socio-economic status, culture, geographic location, personal pereferences, etc. "Catholic" means "universal", but Catholic identities are inevitable nuanced and multi-faceted...what does this mean in terms of Catholic education, faith, and spirituality in America? I hope to explore these thoughts in greater depth.
6. Exploration of Kurt Vonnegut and Religion: Humanism perspective; view of religion as an imgined reality
I have been meaning to get my Vonnegut on. I hope to start with Sirens of Titan, a novel highly recommended by some friends who read it in a religious seminar class at Colgate University (a seminar that I didn't end up taking because I was overwhelmed by my religious questions at the time and I thought it might put me over the edge...).
7. Psychology and Religion: Mental illness, spirituality, cross-culural psychology and psychotherapy (via psychologists vs. religious communities). There's a post on the Colgate India blog about an experience in a Hindu temple: observing a religious healing ceremony for an individual afflicted with mental illness. I'm really interested in cross-cultural perspectives of and treatment for mental illness. The evolution of healing (from religous, community-oriented perspectives to scientific, individualized therapy) is fascinating as well.
8. Tolerance and Pluralism: Religious Diversity— inclusiveness and identity (pair with #3?). L. Kerby: guest post?
9. Mapping Catholicism in Boston: Boston for Catholic Education (BACE), Jesuit Collaborative/Young Adult Network, Catholic Schools Foundation, Campaign for Catholic Schools, Cristo Rey Network, Archdiocese of Boston, Nativity Schools in Boston, Catholic Charities, Earthen Vessels, FJV network, current JV presence, Boston College and other schools, sisters, churches, etc.
(Since moving to Boston, I have rather obsessively connected with various Catholic leaders, organizations, professionals, churches, etc. In an effort to better understand questions related to Catholic identity, I've taken up a hobby of investigating Catholicism in Boston. In my defense, it stemmed from joblessness (but also from personal fascination, and an ongoing identity crisis.))
10. Jesuit post about life coming from death (the bee hive in the skull imagery (this is just a note to myself; I'll explain the post in the project)) Focus: Change, spirituality, consolation/desolation
11. Lethargy and the workplace (blahh!). 9-to-5 on the computer, time budgeting, and health
12. Spirituality (Nouwen, Merton, Mother Theresa, etc.)
Okay, this was a mega post! I hope to tackle these writing projects one at a time, but I might also write lighter, more personal posts inbetween to keep me sane. Also, I have been struggling to find a regular writing routine, and I will be traveling quite a bit these next few weeks, so I anticipate some delays with posts. Lastly, let me know if you have any ideas or suggestions--or if you're interested in a particular project (Mom, maybe I should just ask you directly?).
Oh! And, I think I have to start joining other blogs and posting more consistently (and perhaps under some umbrella theme) to increase readership. Let me know if you have any suggestions on that as well.
Thanks for reading! (Sorry for all the re-publishing of posts; I'm having trouble with spacing!)
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Jean Vanier: "Become Weaker"
Jean Vanier, French theologian and humanitarian, founded L'Arche communities (http://www.larcheusa.org/):
Founded by Jean Vanier in France in 1964, L’Arche communities bear witness to the reality that persons with intellectual disabilities possess inherent qualities of welcome, wonderment, spirituality, and friendship. We make explicit the dignity of every human being by building inclusive communities of faith and friendship where people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together. L’Arche USA exists to strengthen our local communities, welcome more people into our life and work, engage in advocacy on behalf of those often on the margins of society, and to raise awareness of the gifts of persons with intellectual disabilities.
After moving to Boston I had the opportunity to visit a L'Arche community in nearby Haverhill, Massachusetts. It's an interesting experience to spend the day with a group of people with whom you can immediately let your guard down. I discovered that I am a more carefree dancer in Haverhill... I also learned that community members--individuals with developmental and intellectual disabilities--save their grocery money one day per week and send it to another L'Arche community in a third world country. They eat a simple dinner that night and a volunteer reads a letter or passes around a craft or gift from the international community with which this specific L'Arche house is paired. This act of solidarity brings meaning to the lives of community members, which is in contrast to the marginalized status they are often given in society.Additionally, L'Arche community members have various responsibilities--such as local jobs, house chores, and event planning. L'Arche homes are warm and intimate, which can be in contrast to other facilities and living environments for individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
Founded by Jean Vanier in France in 1964, L’Arche communities bear witness to the reality that persons with intellectual disabilities possess inherent qualities of welcome, wonderment, spirituality, and friendship. We make explicit the dignity of every human being by building inclusive communities of faith and friendship where people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together. L’Arche USA exists to strengthen our local communities, welcome more people into our life and work, engage in advocacy on behalf of those often on the margins of society, and to raise awareness of the gifts of persons with intellectual disabilities.
After moving to Boston I had the opportunity to visit a L'Arche community in nearby Haverhill, Massachusetts. It's an interesting experience to spend the day with a group of people with whom you can immediately let your guard down. I discovered that I am a more carefree dancer in Haverhill... I also learned that community members--individuals with developmental and intellectual disabilities--save their grocery money one day per week and send it to another L'Arche community in a third world country. They eat a simple dinner that night and a volunteer reads a letter or passes around a craft or gift from the international community with which this specific L'Arche house is paired. This act of solidarity brings meaning to the lives of community members, which is in contrast to the marginalized status they are often given in society.Additionally, L'Arche community members have various responsibilities--such as local jobs, house chores, and event planning. L'Arche homes are warm and intimate, which can be in contrast to other facilities and living environments for individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
Vanier's vision for L'Arche creates a reality in which weaknesses are valued (http://www.jean-vanier.org/info/en/the_message/jean_vanier_on_becoming_human):
In exploring what it means to be fully human, Vanier invites us to observe the tension in our world between the pressure to achieve mastery or control, and our longing to find ways to live at peace with our own, and others’ imperfections. Where modernity privileges progress and perfection, Vanier has drawn attention to imperfection and fallibility as important and overlooked aspects of being human. Vanier believes that highlighting the universality and centrality of our shared fragility has the potential to unite us in commonality: “The weak teach the strong to accept and integrate the weakness and brokenness of their own lives.” Vanier’s narratives reveal how people really blossom when they are welcomed as they are, with their gifts and their weaknesses together.
Sometimes it's hard to imagine a world in which everyone could look at themselves in the mirror, recognize their fragility and brokenness, and still feel affirmed and loved (especially after working in a middle school for a year!). Vanier frames our vulnerabilities as spiritual gifts for those with whom we enter into relationships. That's kind of mind-blowing. A lot of times we view vulnerabilities as inconveniences or things that people need to work on, but Vanier encourages us to "become weaker": http://www.larcheusa.org/2011/08/jean-vanier-become-weaker/. In exploring what it means to be fully human, Vanier invites us to observe the tension in our world between the pressure to achieve mastery or control, and our longing to find ways to live at peace with our own, and others’ imperfections. Where modernity privileges progress and perfection, Vanier has drawn attention to imperfection and fallibility as important and overlooked aspects of being human. Vanier believes that highlighting the universality and centrality of our shared fragility has the potential to unite us in commonality: “The weak teach the strong to accept and integrate the weakness and brokenness of their own lives.” Vanier’s narratives reveal how people really blossom when they are welcomed as they are, with their gifts and their weaknesses together.
Logistically, this can be a difficult invitation to accept since people do have different boundaries and comfort levels. Additionally, sometimes people need more professional help and support--and it's often challenging to understand if/when our weaknesses become burdensome to others. But such a view of humanity--and relationships--is life-affirming, I think. To enter into a relationship knowing that you are loved despite--and perhaps even because of--your weaknesses is truly something special. Similarly, to disarm someone else with a smile and to greet them with the desire to know them and to love them is to create a meaningful reality--one in which we belong to each other.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Tarzan Time
Hmm...I have a lot of thoughts on my mind right now (surprise surprise), but I feel most moved to write about Tarzan (using a jungle green font, of course). First watch this video(below) and then I'll explain. Also, it's best to watch the video on a computer with a functioning sound system (Mom).
So, where am I going with this? Well, I actually find this video quite powerful. To me, it captures a vision of life, love, faith, and hope that I struggle to keep at the center of my own life. I think I can best describe this vision by first introducing the concepts of "chronos" and "kairos". The ancient Greeks have two words for time: "chronos" and "kairos". According to wikipedia:"While 'chronos' refers to chronological or sequential time, 'kairos' signifies a time in between, a moment of indeterminate time in which something special happens. What that something special is depends on who is using the word. While 'chronos' is quantitative, 'kairos' has a qualitative nature."
I think this distinction is especially important when one is trying to find and create meaning in his or her life. When I operate on 'chronos' sometimes I find myself valuing my schedule and my plans over my experiences and encounters. I value "doing" over "being" and I view time as something that is finite--something that I must seek to control in some way.
I visited my alma mater this past weekend and I was inevitably reminded of time: past, present, and future. I wondered: what made my time at Colgate worthwhile, and what do I hope for myself in present and future time? Additionally, I realized that my time at Colgate had passed, and that each year there are new students who are passing their time there (or, I suppose, actively engaging it!). When I met with professors and mentors I couldn't help but wonder how they view their time at Colgate--and what they hope for themselves and for their students. I recall that I initially applied to Colgate because of a quote from the guidebook from former president, Rebecca Chopp: "The purpose of a liberal arts education is to enable* students to live a life worth living and to create a world worth living in." (*not sure if this was the verb she used...)
Essentially, Chopp suggests that a liberal arts education empowers students to create their own realities--to choose their commitments, causes, values, and beliefs. Time passes, but we are active. Such agency can be both liberating and terrifying all at the same time. Again I find myself asking what I want in life. How will I choose to make my time worthwhile (and what will happen if I fail to do so)?
Back to the Tarzan music video. Tarzan's life trajectory reminds me that our agency is limited by the complex, unpredictable hands that we are dealt in life. He could not control the fact that the (not-so-)perfect storm shipwrecked him and his parents and forced them to find refuge in the nearest jungle. Tarzan did not choose to be raised by (exceptionally compassionate) gorillas, and he could inevitably only control a limited portion of his environment. But to me, the heart of this video--the 'kairos' of its story--is depicted through the response patterns of each character. In the moment in time when Tarzan's parents are shipwrecked, they responded with strength and hope. They commit to building a home so that they could take care of their son. Similarly, the gorilla responds with love and care when she chooses to raise baby Tarzan--and to help him navigate the dangers of the jungle.
When I think about what makes time worthwhile--or what a parent wants for a child or a teacher for a student--I prefer to use the language of 'kairos'. I am only beginning to let go of the idea that a particular path, belief, accomplishment, career, etc. creates meaning in time. I think we create meaning through the ways in which we respond to life's moments--and since wrapped up in that response is the unique combination of people, circumstances, and beliefs that shape us, the moment is special. Furthermore, when these people, beliefs, and moments are at the center of our lives, our time is worthwhile. There is a timeless quality to that which shapes our response pattern because our responses affect other people and places. "What we do in life echoes in eternity," as Maximus (and Zach Zipser) says!
So of course I have to try to bring things full circle and point out that "alma mater" means "nourishing mother" and that the title of the song in the Tarzan video is "You'll be in my heart." To me, a life worth living and a world worth living in are ones in which time is special. And the more tools and support we have to navigate life's complexities, the more deeply we can engage our responses and our lives: our precious time.
So, where am I going with this? Well, I actually find this video quite powerful. To me, it captures a vision of life, love, faith, and hope that I struggle to keep at the center of my own life. I think I can best describe this vision by first introducing the concepts of "chronos" and "kairos". The ancient Greeks have two words for time: "chronos" and "kairos". According to wikipedia:"While 'chronos' refers to chronological or sequential time, 'kairos' signifies a time in between, a moment of indeterminate time in which something special happens. What that something special is depends on who is using the word. While 'chronos' is quantitative, 'kairos' has a qualitative nature."
I think this distinction is especially important when one is trying to find and create meaning in his or her life. When I operate on 'chronos' sometimes I find myself valuing my schedule and my plans over my experiences and encounters. I value "doing" over "being" and I view time as something that is finite--something that I must seek to control in some way.
I visited my alma mater this past weekend and I was inevitably reminded of time: past, present, and future. I wondered: what made my time at Colgate worthwhile, and what do I hope for myself in present and future time? Additionally, I realized that my time at Colgate had passed, and that each year there are new students who are passing their time there (or, I suppose, actively engaging it!). When I met with professors and mentors I couldn't help but wonder how they view their time at Colgate--and what they hope for themselves and for their students. I recall that I initially applied to Colgate because of a quote from the guidebook from former president, Rebecca Chopp: "The purpose of a liberal arts education is to enable* students to live a life worth living and to create a world worth living in." (*not sure if this was the verb she used...)
Essentially, Chopp suggests that a liberal arts education empowers students to create their own realities--to choose their commitments, causes, values, and beliefs. Time passes, but we are active. Such agency can be both liberating and terrifying all at the same time. Again I find myself asking what I want in life. How will I choose to make my time worthwhile (and what will happen if I fail to do so)?
Back to the Tarzan music video. Tarzan's life trajectory reminds me that our agency is limited by the complex, unpredictable hands that we are dealt in life. He could not control the fact that the (not-so-)perfect storm shipwrecked him and his parents and forced them to find refuge in the nearest jungle. Tarzan did not choose to be raised by (exceptionally compassionate) gorillas, and he could inevitably only control a limited portion of his environment. But to me, the heart of this video--the 'kairos' of its story--is depicted through the response patterns of each character. In the moment in time when Tarzan's parents are shipwrecked, they responded with strength and hope. They commit to building a home so that they could take care of their son. Similarly, the gorilla responds with love and care when she chooses to raise baby Tarzan--and to help him navigate the dangers of the jungle.
When I think about what makes time worthwhile--or what a parent wants for a child or a teacher for a student--I prefer to use the language of 'kairos'. I am only beginning to let go of the idea that a particular path, belief, accomplishment, career, etc. creates meaning in time. I think we create meaning through the ways in which we respond to life's moments--and since wrapped up in that response is the unique combination of people, circumstances, and beliefs that shape us, the moment is special. Furthermore, when these people, beliefs, and moments are at the center of our lives, our time is worthwhile. There is a timeless quality to that which shapes our response pattern because our responses affect other people and places. "What we do in life echoes in eternity," as Maximus (and Zach Zipser) says!
So of course I have to try to bring things full circle and point out that "alma mater" means "nourishing mother" and that the title of the song in the Tarzan video is "You'll be in my heart." To me, a life worth living and a world worth living in are ones in which time is special. And the more tools and support we have to navigate life's complexities, the more deeply we can engage our responses and our lives: our precious time.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The Desire To Be Fey-mous; The Courage To Be
Last weekend I read Tina Fey's autobiography, Miss Bossypants, and I found myself pondering theological questions again (in-between laughs). Shucks. I guess in the midst of personally admiring Tina Fey and all that she has accomplished, I realized that her narrative seemed like a means to an end. I read the book because her story is one of success: her teenage angst and young adult awkwardness paved the way to comedic fame. In her honest and refreshing storytelling, Fey deconstructs stereotypes and standards, encouraging readers to embrace their true selves: awkwardness, quirks, flaws, asymmetrical body parts and all. But I wonder: is her advice worthwhile because she is successful? I am reminded of my anecdotes about Neil Pasricha and Steve Jobs from my previous post: their time of uncertainty, doom and gloom can also seem like a means to an end in light of their successes. But what about those stories that end in mediocrity or tragedy? Are they also worthwhile--and equally so? Are average narratives worth reading? Are "average" people deserving of love, admiration and celebration? Is a life less special if it is not marked by success?
Success stories reinforce virtues such as faith and hope, but they can also erode our own Courage To Be ourselves. But here is where it gets tricky: we must strive to be ourselves, but we ought not to become complacent. How can I be completely and uniquely myself, yet still aspire to something greater? We are constantly changing and growing, but always being. Additionally, as some theology suggests: our be-ing might have begun ex nihilo, but we (and all living things) are beloved. Slang: to be ourselves we must know that we be loved, yo. Eloquent, poetic, spiritual version: "Behold the one beholding you and smiling." -Anthony DeMello, SJ
On a related note, I sincerely appreciate Tina Fey's deconstruction of Western standards of beauty, namely because I think these standards often interfere with important states of being and knowing. A standard inevitably marginalizes; standards of beauty are such that if one does not look a certain way, he or she is valued less--and marked different, "other" and inferior. Similarly, I am often frustrated with standards of achievement in classrooms. If teachers value students based on achievement or particular kinds of intelligence, of what worth are the under-achieving, presumably "less intelligent" students? Theologically detached statement: our natural state ought not To Be perpetually insecure.
Tina Fey also has some interesting insights about Improv Comedy. Improv is kind of like a metaphor for life (just used a simile to describe a metaphor) in that failure is inevitable--and valuable. Also, it takes a hell of a lot of Courage To Be an improv comedian. One must constantly make herself vulnerable. In front of an audience. Countless times. But failure builds resilience and confidence, and it leads to growth. Each time we make ourselves vulnerable, we wonder: will we still be loved? Comedians must endure the reality that sometimes they "behold the [audience] beholding them, and the [audience] is [not] smiling." It appears that "successful" people view their times of darkness with endearment, strength, and poise because they have something to show for it. But I think it's important to recognize that triumphs are unique and personal. Also, sometimes people leave this earth without ever having felt successful or triumphant. Perhaps they have only ever felt cowardly and worthless. I am not sure what these realities mean, but they are indeed realities--and tragic.
Interestingly (in my loco mind, at least), in the book that I am currently reading, The World As It Is, Truthdig columnist, Chris Hedges, offers some thought-provoking views on being--and our natural state--from a more macro perspective. He states:
"Rebellion--which is different from revolution because it is perpetual alienation from power rather than replacement of one power system with another--should be our natural state. And faith, for me, is a belief that rebellion is always worth it, even if all outward signs point to our lives and struggles as penultimate failures. We are saved not by what we can do or accomplish but by our fealty to revolt, our steadfastness to the weak, the poor, the marginalized, and those who endure oppression. We must stand with them against the powerful. If we remain true to these moral imperatives, we win. I am enough of an idealist to believe that the struggle to lead the moral life is worth it."
His moral voice illumines the socio-political reality of our state of being. Our personal state of being is one of constant flux and growth; our socio-politcal existence consists of ongoing rebellion. Both states are ever-changing, but grounded in love and worth. For Hedges, to be we ought to have the courage to advocate for ourselves and for each other. He contends that "to be" is not a singular act of success over failure, but, rather, a shared act of being--interconnected and together. According to Hedges, our natural state is community: to be in union with each other. And he suggests that, perhaps, in such living we are also in communion with something greater.
My arguments might be somewhat circular, underdeveloped, and theologically biased--and bedtime is approaching--but I will leave you with this poem:
With That Moon Language
-Hafiz
Success stories reinforce virtues such as faith and hope, but they can also erode our own Courage To Be ourselves. But here is where it gets tricky: we must strive to be ourselves, but we ought not to become complacent. How can I be completely and uniquely myself, yet still aspire to something greater? We are constantly changing and growing, but always being. Additionally, as some theology suggests: our be-ing might have begun ex nihilo, but we (and all living things) are beloved. Slang: to be ourselves we must know that we be loved, yo. Eloquent, poetic, spiritual version: "Behold the one beholding you and smiling." -Anthony DeMello, SJ
On a related note, I sincerely appreciate Tina Fey's deconstruction of Western standards of beauty, namely because I think these standards often interfere with important states of being and knowing. A standard inevitably marginalizes; standards of beauty are such that if one does not look a certain way, he or she is valued less--and marked different, "other" and inferior. Similarly, I am often frustrated with standards of achievement in classrooms. If teachers value students based on achievement or particular kinds of intelligence, of what worth are the under-achieving, presumably "less intelligent" students? Theologically detached statement: our natural state ought not To Be perpetually insecure.
Tina Fey also has some interesting insights about Improv Comedy. Improv is kind of like a metaphor for life (just used a simile to describe a metaphor) in that failure is inevitable--and valuable. Also, it takes a hell of a lot of Courage To Be an improv comedian. One must constantly make herself vulnerable. In front of an audience. Countless times. But failure builds resilience and confidence, and it leads to growth. Each time we make ourselves vulnerable, we wonder: will we still be loved? Comedians must endure the reality that sometimes they "behold the [audience] beholding them, and the [audience] is [not] smiling." It appears that "successful" people view their times of darkness with endearment, strength, and poise because they have something to show for it. But I think it's important to recognize that triumphs are unique and personal. Also, sometimes people leave this earth without ever having felt successful or triumphant. Perhaps they have only ever felt cowardly and worthless. I am not sure what these realities mean, but they are indeed realities--and tragic.
Interestingly (in my loco mind, at least), in the book that I am currently reading, The World As It Is, Truthdig columnist, Chris Hedges, offers some thought-provoking views on being--and our natural state--from a more macro perspective. He states:
"Rebellion--which is different from revolution because it is perpetual alienation from power rather than replacement of one power system with another--should be our natural state. And faith, for me, is a belief that rebellion is always worth it, even if all outward signs point to our lives and struggles as penultimate failures. We are saved not by what we can do or accomplish but by our fealty to revolt, our steadfastness to the weak, the poor, the marginalized, and those who endure oppression. We must stand with them against the powerful. If we remain true to these moral imperatives, we win. I am enough of an idealist to believe that the struggle to lead the moral life is worth it."
His moral voice illumines the socio-political reality of our state of being. Our personal state of being is one of constant flux and growth; our socio-politcal existence consists of ongoing rebellion. Both states are ever-changing, but grounded in love and worth. For Hedges, to be we ought to have the courage to advocate for ourselves and for each other. He contends that "to be" is not a singular act of success over failure, but, rather, a shared act of being--interconnected and together. According to Hedges, our natural state is community: to be in union with each other. And he suggests that, perhaps, in such living we are also in communion with something greater.
My arguments might be somewhat circular, underdeveloped, and theologically biased--and bedtime is approaching--but I will leave you with this poem:
With That Moon Language
Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me."
Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops.
Still though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language,
What every other eye in this world is dying to hear?
What every other eye in this world is dying to hear?
-Hafiz
Monday, January 16, 2012
January 16th Post (A Very Creative and Unique Post)
After almost a year and a half long hiatus from my first and only blog post, I have decided to re-enter the blogosphere (definitely not bored). Originally, I had intended to chronicle my year as a Jesuit Volunteer in San Jose, California, but the year was so choc full of experiences that I never really found time to write about them. If I am successful with posting regularly this year, this blog will end up being a smorgasbord of thoughts about life from the vantage point of a 20-something year-old living in Boston. The reality: My voice is one amongst millions. Given that over two blogs are created each second of every day, what makes any one blog worth reading?
I recently started pondering this question after hearing Neil Pasricha's rag-to-riches blog story on TED.com (http://www.ted.com/talks/neil_pasricha_the_3_a_s_of_awesome.html). The American Dream of the blogosphere, Pasricha created "1000 Awesome Things" (http://1000awesomethings.com/), a blog-turned-international-best-seller-book that lists and savors "life's simple pleasures" such as "sleeping in your own bed after a long trip, being able to carry all the groceries from the car in one swoop, [and] that miracle of science when the amount of toilet paper left on the roll is the exact amount you need." Here's a random review of the blog to give it more context: "A lovingly beautiful blog. It's like being a three- or four-year old and looking at the world for the first time again. Read it and you'll feel good about being human." -Jim Hedger, Host of Webcology, Webmaster Radio
Interestingly, Pasricha created "1000 Awesome Things" during the most heart-wrenching time of his life. He and his wife had recently endured a painful divorce, and his close friend had committed suicide. Pasricha started his blog as a way to remind himself of life's small pleasures. Pasricha's savoring and writing was a source of healing for him. His story captures many profound, though often cliched, truths. It's an example of light springing from darkness; hope from despair; life from death.
I had learned about Pasricha and his blog around the time that inventive genius, Steve Jobs, passed away, and I found remarkable parallels in their stories. Check out these excerpts from Jobs' captivating 2005 Stanford Commencement Address (full text can be found at http://www.forbes.com/sites/davidewalt/2011/10/05/steve-jobs-2005-stanford-commencement-address/):
"I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life" (page 2).
"If I had never dropped out [of college], I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
...Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life" (page 1).
Like Pasricha, Jobs entered "one of the most creative periods of [his] life" during a time of uncertainty and transition. Again we see those themes that often mark timeless human endeavors such as classic literature, art and religion: clarity following murkiness; weaknesses building strength; life resurrecting from death. These stories remind us that those who overcome (more glamorous: "conquer") failure will succeed.
But what does it mean to succeed? Given that over two blogs are created each second of every day, what makes any one blog worth reading? I read Pasricha's blog after learning that it was the number one blog in the world (at some point). Steve Jobs is a ballin' legend because of his accomplishments with Apple. We are fascinated by such paragons of success, and their stories inspire us to strive to reach our fullest potential. The message to trust yourself and to have faith in the present--especially during times of transition and uncertainty--is especially pertinent to 20-something-year-olds in today's day and age. Well, I guess I can only speak for myself (the 20-something-year-old currently living in Boston--whatup!?!). Everything is so @*($*(@ bleepity bleep uncertain right now. I am currently not striving for anything specific (except for Pasricha blog status!!), and my dots haven't connected all up just yet. I think I am somewhat fixated on the idea that the light at the end of the tunnel will come in the form of recognition and success: an International Bestseller or a Commencement Speech gone viral. It can be challenging to revel in the small triumphs, realizations, and wonders of life when you want to aspire to greatness, which perhaps speaks to why Pasricha's blog is so popular. His writing cherishes the ordinary and offers an Awesome glimpse into the mundane.
Hmm...with that being said: I don't know if this blog will be Awesome (or if I will be Awesome enough to post regularly!). I'm not sure what makes a blog worth reading (more uncertainty!). But perhaps rooted in the desire to be recognized is the desire to be known and to be heard: the desire to reclaim (and to secretly hope that others retweet) your unique Awesomeness.
-#KathleenAnnaCooney
I recently started pondering this question after hearing Neil Pasricha's rag-to-riches blog story on TED.com (http://www.ted.com/talks/neil_pasricha_the_3_a_s_of_awesome.html). The American Dream of the blogosphere, Pasricha created "1000 Awesome Things" (http://1000awesomethings.com/), a blog-turned-international-best-seller-book that lists and savors "life's simple pleasures" such as "sleeping in your own bed after a long trip, being able to carry all the groceries from the car in one swoop, [and] that miracle of science when the amount of toilet paper left on the roll is the exact amount you need." Here's a random review of the blog to give it more context: "A lovingly beautiful blog. It's like being a three- or four-year old and looking at the world for the first time again. Read it and you'll feel good about being human." -Jim Hedger, Host of Webcology, Webmaster Radio
Interestingly, Pasricha created "1000 Awesome Things" during the most heart-wrenching time of his life. He and his wife had recently endured a painful divorce, and his close friend had committed suicide. Pasricha started his blog as a way to remind himself of life's small pleasures. Pasricha's savoring and writing was a source of healing for him. His story captures many profound, though often cliched, truths. It's an example of light springing from darkness; hope from despair; life from death.
I had learned about Pasricha and his blog around the time that inventive genius, Steve Jobs, passed away, and I found remarkable parallels in their stories. Check out these excerpts from Jobs' captivating 2005 Stanford Commencement Address (full text can be found at http://www.forbes.com/sites/davidewalt/2011/10/05/steve-jobs-2005-stanford-commencement-address/):
"I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life" (page 2).
"If I had never dropped out [of college], I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
...Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life" (page 1).
Like Pasricha, Jobs entered "one of the most creative periods of [his] life" during a time of uncertainty and transition. Again we see those themes that often mark timeless human endeavors such as classic literature, art and religion: clarity following murkiness; weaknesses building strength; life resurrecting from death. These stories remind us that those who overcome (more glamorous: "conquer") failure will succeed.
But what does it mean to succeed? Given that over two blogs are created each second of every day, what makes any one blog worth reading? I read Pasricha's blog after learning that it was the number one blog in the world (at some point). Steve Jobs is a ballin' legend because of his accomplishments with Apple. We are fascinated by such paragons of success, and their stories inspire us to strive to reach our fullest potential. The message to trust yourself and to have faith in the present--especially during times of transition and uncertainty--is especially pertinent to 20-something-year-olds in today's day and age. Well, I guess I can only speak for myself (the 20-something-year-old currently living in Boston--whatup!?!). Everything is so @*($*(@ bleepity bleep uncertain right now. I am currently not striving for anything specific (except for Pasricha blog status!!), and my dots haven't connected all up just yet. I think I am somewhat fixated on the idea that the light at the end of the tunnel will come in the form of recognition and success: an International Bestseller or a Commencement Speech gone viral. It can be challenging to revel in the small triumphs, realizations, and wonders of life when you want to aspire to greatness, which perhaps speaks to why Pasricha's blog is so popular. His writing cherishes the ordinary and offers an Awesome glimpse into the mundane.
Hmm...with that being said: I don't know if this blog will be Awesome (or if I will be Awesome enough to post regularly!). I'm not sure what makes a blog worth reading (more uncertainty!). But perhaps rooted in the desire to be recognized is the desire to be known and to be heard: the desire to reclaim (and to secretly hope that others retweet) your unique Awesomeness.
-#KathleenAnnaCooney
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)