Gold Stars, Black Stars

You know how in grade school, you use to have a gold star chart?  Your face would beam as the teacher placed the shiny and magical 5-pointed sticker on the classroom’s chart next to your name.  One more good deed; one more great achievement; one more proud moment.  Each week, you kept count of just how many stars you have, and gasp in delight when your line of stars becomes longer than the rest of the class.  Ahh, the flavor of success.

I feel like American culture thrives on the gold-star phenomenon, don’t you?  We’ve done it for years.  I mean, come on; how many of us are bent on achievements, success, and going the extra mile?  Well… maybe not so much.  But I do feel like for most of us, it feels good (or relieving, even) when we do something good in life.  Accomplish something, earn the extra dollar, get recognized, and the like.

As for myself… I’ve grown up a different way.  Sure, my home culture has always considered achievements with high esteem.  But in Japan, there is more than one chart in existence.  One keeps track of gold-star successes; the other, I’m sad to say, keeps track of black-star failures.  You see, Japanese culture is very success-driven… but it’s motivated first by fear.  A fear of failure.  A fear of letting others down.  A fear of being behind the pack.  It’s like Will Ferrel says in Talladega Nights, “If you’re not first, you’re last.”  Sound ridiculous?  It is… but it’s kind of the sad truth.  Which leads us to the black star chart.

I know I’ve always been a perfectionist.  Yet I’ve recently discovered why that is, and just how much this chart has been affecting my life and the way I live it.  You know how you live with something for so long, you simply adjust your life around it and don’t notice the obstacle that it creates?

I feel like I’ve been that way about my source of perfectionism.  I’ve constantly lived with subtle fears of not reaching the extremely high marks I make for myself, but never have dealt with the reason why I’m that way.  The reason why I’m afraid of failure is simply because I, like a lot of other Japanese people, am an expert at keeping track of all of my mistakes.  Every little mishap puts a little black star on my chart.  And the list grows… and it gets overwhelming.

My sister may remember this event well: During my senior year of high school, I was preparing a very difficult piano piece – Claire de Lune by Debussy – for a recital.  I poured hours of practice into the beautiful song, and when the big night of the performance came, my sister was able to come see me play.  I started off well; really well, actually.  All the dynamics were there.  All the intricate imbellishments and moods were depicted.  And yet… I stumbled in two distinct places of the song towards the end, during the grandeur finish of my piece.

There was great applause and cheering… yet as I took my bow, my heart sank with frustration and defeat.  It wasn’t perfect.  And it makes me sad to tell you that it ruined the rest of my night, not to mention put a damper on the rest of my week.  So I proceeded to put another black star on my chart.

Sigh… I have faced battles like these for too long.  For years now, I have felt like I’ve never been good enough.  Not doing enough.  I could be a better wife.  I should be doing more housework.  I should be more diligent with practicing music.  I need to be a better leader.  I need to work harder.  I need to eat better.  I should be less selfish and more selfless.  These accusations never end!  They are like invisible needles that prick my heart with guilt and shame.  Little voices that whisper I’ll never measure up – I’ll always be far from perfect.  And as a result, I know I’ve been really, really hard on myself.  

Yet… Little did I know that by being this way – convinced that I am rightfully degrading myself – I have been going against the very core of the Gospel’s message of Sonship.

Beyond these screaming accusations in my head, the heart of God’s truth has been whispering to me gently:

“I love you and delight in you just the way you are.”

“I am proud of you.”

“You are my daughter, whom I have created, and am well pleased.”

All these years of giving ear to the voice of the Accuser, my Father has been showering me with gentle words of affirmation.  Acceptance.  Never-ending love.

Because I am His daughter, there is nothing I can do – good or bad – gold or black star – that can change how much He loves me or delights in me.  (Romans 8:38; Ephesians 1:3-8; I John 3:1).  In fact, He delights in all the things that He has created – including myself.  I am a part of His creation, therefore He has proclaimed over me, “It is good.”

A pastor told me today (without knowing a thing about my cultural background) that there are some lessons that I need to un-learn… and I know that this false “need for perfectionism” is one of them.

Now, after writing this blog – I feel like I’m finally – finally - letting the truth of God sink into my heart.  The only words that God speaks over us are life-giving words.  Sure, the Lord will also discipline those He loves… there’s a time and place for that.  But that’s just a part of His wholesome Fatherhood.  It brings out the best in us – and I need to let go of trying to discipline myself – striving so hard to accomplish what the world beckons me to do – in order for Him to lovingly shape me into the vessel He wants to make of me.

It is such a relief to know that I don’t have to try so hard.  His glorious Kingdom is and will continue to be manifested without any of my human efforts.  In fact, the more I let go and lay myself down, the more He can simply do through me.  No star-charts involved.  I’m sure I still need to get used to the idea for a while, but… for now, I finally feel like I can relax a bit.  And I shall rest in that.

Introducing…

Gummy Bear Diaries!  A blog created by Jeremy & I about our growing Little One that is already changing our world dynamically!

Visit here to see what it’s all about!  (It’s even better than the Hokey Pokey.)  Plus, one new post is up for you to see.

God’s Gracious Supply

(Originally written 8/23/2008.  Age: 25)

(Today’s note: These are reflections following a miraculous teaching job I received only through what I believe is God’s timing, a lovely place called Children’s Music Academy.  I am still blown away by how faithful God is.  Not just for finances… really fulfilling the desires of our hearts as well.)

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You know… there are so many times when we doubt and doubt and doubt and try to take control of something just because we can’t see far enough in the future… when God knows what’s best the whole time. The more we question Him, challenge Him, the more He’ll draw away. 

It’s through experiences like these that I find God doesn’t necessarily want us to know the future. If any detail is given away, then that just gives us more fake ammo to try and tackle the world on our own — without His help — and we all know we can only go so far that way. Even if we go far by the world’s standards, I highly doubt that we’ll be happy.

And if we put our security in money, accomplishments, and success — the “biggies” of the world — we will surely be let down. Those don’t bring any fulfillment. Sometimes I wonder if God allows those things to be taken away — not as punishment — but because He hopes that we will turn to Him.

If and when we lay our lives down and say, “Alright God… I don’t have anything. I don’t know what to do. I’m lost… and can’t do this without you.” And give over all of ourselves to Him – heart, mind, soul, and body – that’s when He comes through. When we choose Him despite anything else that we lack in life — I full-heartedly believe that He will come through.

But that takes courage. A lot of it. But just because of what I’ve experienced the last few months — I know that when the going gets tougher, it’s really easy to give up on God. Wonder if He even cares. But you know what? If we ever allow ourselves to think that way, we are only sabotaging ourselves from the abundant flow of God’s gracious supply.

Jesus wants us to have childlike faith. Remember what it was like to be 4, 5 years old? Not all of us had the same childhood; some of them aren’t that pretty, I’m sure; but do you remember what it was like to not have a care in the world? Mom or Dad took care of the bills. They fed us. They put us to bed in a warm, comfy bed. They taught us things about life. That’s childlike faith; being totally at peace because you know that your Abba is taking care of you, no matter what happens. It’s not for us to worry about.

If any of you are doubting God is there; don’t question Him. You don’t have to, becauseHe is. Yahweh. The great I AM. Abba. God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He was, and is, and is to come. His presence is saturated into everything around us — if you choose to see it. He is there for you, waiting. And when you surrender yourself into that presence with faith – like Peter jumping from the boat into the water with his eyes fixed on Jesus alone – abandoning all hope and security on our earthly treasures – then He will bless you beyond your imagination.

And now for an update as of 2/3/2009:
I still have many needs.  These two jobs are just enough to break even at this point.  I still have plenty of school debt to pay off; we are trying to find a way for Jeremy to go to S. Africa this summer.  We are getting ready to have a BABY in SEPTEMBER.  (STILL blows my mind!)  And the list goes on. But why weigh myself down with worry? Worrying doesn’t add a single minute to my life. God will come through; I have no idea how, and I know it’s not in my place to know how. Not even when. I have to be okay with not having control over that. I just have to carry on with the responsibilities I’ve been given, and just… trust.

And so my adventure continues.

My Re-discoveries

It’s always amazing to look back on revelations you had even just a few months beforehand… I’ve realized that it’s been forever since I’ve posted any new “old” blogs (yeah yeah, I’m going to start writing actual new ones soon, I promise!), and I was just looking over some situations I’ve faced in the past year.

 

Yeah.  I’ve been here in Denver for a year now.  How crazy is that?  And though it seems like such a short amount of time, and I feel like I’ve “accomplished” very little, I now see that God has been doing a lot more work in me than I presumed.  I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be… if we are always keen on our progress, it kinda makes us feel like we’re the ones doing all the work, and His glory is lost.

 

Here are some thoughts that I’ve humbly revisited… though I feel like I still hang onto some of these old ways sometimes, I’m relieved to see (and be reminded once again) that these burdens have been lifted from me:

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(Upon deciding NOT to pursue a career in teaching special education)

…I think I was just… lost for a while.  Freaking out.  I was really aching to accopmlish something, to be “doing” something.  Because that has been my life for the past 5 years of school — doing, doing, doing — going, going, going — and accomplishing.  It’s been my drug, really.  My identity.  My way of feeling worth something.  And being without that was driving me crazy! 

…I realized that for as long as I can remember, I have always worked hard at something.  Rarely getting a breath of fresh air, rarely stopping to really think about what my desires are in life… and rarely taking a moment to just soak in God’s presence and spend time with Him.  

Being brutally honest here… Me, a “worship leader” (actually doing the finger quotes here), was having a hard time spending time with God.  For what seems like years.  Like I said before, it was this invisible vice I had — I thought that being ridiculously busy was normal.  I didn’t have time to read what I really wanted to read.  I didn’t have time to work on music.  I didn’t have time to do things I was really passionate about.  And, excuse my language but, I was so damn tired all the time that whenever I did get a little break, I would just veg out watching TV or become distracted by chores that needed to get done anyway… and end up being so frustrated about wasting time.

I’ve been spiritually starving myself for a long, long time.

So by realizing all of this, it became very clear to me that to just “be” is exactly what I need right now.

It’s exactly what God wants from me.

And this may actually the last chance I have to do this… especially if kids are down the road someday.  lol.  (NOT YET.  I said SOMEDAY.)  ——(Side note: VERY FUNNY to me at the moment.)

So I’ve backed off from trying to do so much… it’s not like I’ve dropped every responsibility I have… But I’ve relaxed, and I’ve been trying to just “be.” (lol, isn’t it sad that I actually have to try to relax??)  

But it’s been since I’ve made this decision to “be” that I’ve discovered so much about myself.  I realized that by “doing,” I was trying to define myself with accomplishments rather than with the actual desires of my heart.  And all this while, I’ve been turning a blind eye to hindrances I have such as timidity… and I’m realizing that through all of this, I want to sing and write and write music more than ever before.

It’s like the root of my desires are finally being loosened from this rock-hard dirt that all my accomplishments and busy-ness that I was packing into my life.  I’m breathing.  It’s great.

I am meant to write music.  I am meant to sing.  I am meant to worship my King.  

So my real decision is — I am pursuing after God, I am choosing to follow the desires of my heart.  

There is a season to “be.”  For all of us.  It is what God wants — yes, we are called to go into the world and be an example of His love.  But we cannot do that unless we lay down our lives and simply relax.  

Think of David, how he had the solitude of the great fields to worship God as he watched over his sheep.

Think of Mary, who chose to listen at Jesus’ feet instead of worry about the housework like Martha did.

Think of Jesus himself, who went away from the crowds just to spend time with the Father.

We need that, too.  It’s okay to be selfish.  Actually, we’re probably doing the world a favor by relaxing a little.    

 

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So there it is.  Seriously, I still struggle with being uber busy… I am realizing that this is just a part of life.  But I am glad to know that I do take it easy, and as most of you know, I have greater reasons and needs to take it easy for the next 8 months or so… and it’s just refreshing to rest in His arms and know that He is good.  He takes care of us, and His thoughts towards us are good.  

 

I’m a very blessed daughter, and I’m ever humbled by all that He teaches me.

I of Little Faith

(Originally written 9/18/2007.  Age: 24.)

I’m a little confused…maybe a lot.

Is there a difference between faith and trust?  Because I was wondering today… sometimes I’m not sure if I have enough faith in God… but I can only hope to trust Him that He is good and as long as we surrender to Him, His will shall come to pass…

I know we are supposed to pray about everything, bring our requests to God, give it all to Him.  I know prayer is one of the most powerful tools we have, as well.

But how do you pray for a life or death situation?  Do you put faith in God for actual physical healing to take place?  Or do you simply trust for His good and perfect will to be accomplished, no matter what the outcome, since it’s really out of our hands anyway?  Is that the difference between Calvinism and whatever the other side of the argument is?

At this moment in time, all I feel I can do is put my trust in Him.  I don’t know what to pray for, or even how to pray for it.  Miraculous healing?  Or simply, Thy Kingdom come, Your will be done?  I don’t know.  I feel so naive.  And quite frankly, faith is not my strength at the moment.

God, I pray that You can take what I have for now.  And help me to build my faith in You.

(Today’s Notes: These are contemplations I had when our church was praying for a very strong, compassionate leader in our congregation.  It seemed like out of the blue, he was diagnosed with an advanced form of leukemia, and days later, he went to be with the Lord.  George, we know you are in heaven; we are thankful of how God used you to minister to many during your time here.

I think I still feel naive about praying for these situations… but I’m beginning to see that we need to faithfully ask for the miracle first… and then, ultimately, have faith that His will be done.  After all, God is good.  That is all He is.  And God works for the good of those who love Him, and I believe that even if it was painful to see George go, the mark he left behind was truly inspiring.  Anyone who has met him has learned from him.  Anyone who saw him, saw God in him.  And isn’t that what God wants from us, no matter how long we live on this earth?

 

By the way, I would love to hear your feedback on this.  I know that a part of me still clings to skepticism, timidity to ask for the “impossible”, and be very naive in my thinking where I feel like major “healings” sound more like… well, they sound like stories sometimes, just because I haven’t seen it myself.  Just being honest here.  So be honest back to me.  Say what you have to say about it.  Thanks, friends.)

Integral Insecurities

(Originally written 2/18/08.  Age: 25)

(Today’s Note: This is a journal entry I poured out during the midst of a phase where I felt like my identity was completely lost.  It’s like I had post-college-partum depression.  At the time, my perspective was very narrow; I felt like I had no purpose whatsoever, and all I was doing was working at the Olive Garden and going to church, wasting away.  I was contemplating getting a special ed teaching degree through Denver Teaching Fellows, but was altogether unsure about taking a step forward anywhere.  I was stuck.  Completely insecure and scared out of my wits about the future.  Then… came this weird sense of peace.  And even if it was only for a moment, from this peace came the flow of thoughts below.  What you’ll read from this point forward are revelations that I’ve returned to grasp again and again, even in the last nine months that have passed since writing this entry.  I hope you can find some light in them, as well.)

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February 18, 2008:
“… I still feel pretty small. Pretty insignificant. But I’m finally starting to realize that it’s necessary for all of us to feel small.  Daunted.  Frightened and confused to be in this temporary home and wonder how we belong to it.  Because without any of these ridiculously uncomfortable feelings – the ones that seem to cling to the back of our necks, weigh down our shoulders, our chests, hover over our heads, giving us all reason to doubt ourselves and what we’re capable of – there wouldn’t be any reason to put our hope in God.

Insecurity is an integral part of our faith to grow.

I wonder if this is how David felt when he was drawing his slingshot aiming at Goliath.  Or how Moses felt when he raised his staff towards the Red Sea.  When Ruth laid beside Boaz or when Esther faced the king.  When Joshua took the first step of circling around the walls of Jericho… or of all people, when Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane before his betrayal.  All of these events are full of unimaginable fear…of absolute lack of control over the future.

Well. The thing is, each of these people had a choice to either follow God’s will or to back away into an easier, more ordinary life.  But ironically, in order to do the extraordinary, each of them had to completely abandon themselves.  How incredible faith is; to recognize that you cannot accomplish even an ounce of God’s will unless you are in full submission to Him.

I wonder how many of us have so little “control” over our lives simply because we’re the ones trying to control it.  We hold onto so much with our little hands… when God’s are so much bigger.  It becomes such a tiresome cycle, trying to do it all on our own.  But that’s really what we perceive as “the real world.”

However, “faith is the evidence of things unseen.”  And by definition, faith is “trust in andreliance on God.”

It takes all of me to make nothing of myself.  So that God may take complete control…

Such a paradox.  And we are the ones that make it a paradox, really.  But still, nonetheless… even if it takes us being completely vulnerable, the tranquility that faith brings is absolutely breathtaking.

The world may be much too daunting for us… but it fits right into the palm of our Maker.  And we are tucked safely away with it, as well.”

Reason to Rejoice

(Originally written 3/31/08.  Age: 25.  Whilst working at the ever-lovely Olive Garden.)

 

Today, I witnessed one of the happiest moments ever.

Lunch was pretty slow, so I decided to stay on for another co-worker… and through it, God blessed me with a taste of true joy.

A family of four came in, and I went over to their table and offered a sample of wine (as duty calls at ye olde Olive Garden).  The mother piped up right away and said, “I’ll have a glass of wine, and I’ll tell you why!  We’re here to celebrate.  Our son here was just claimed cancer-free this morning.”

Chills ran up my spine (and they still are as I’m telling this story…).  “That’s incredible! Congratulations!”

I looked at the boy, and the only thing I could see is that he was beaming.  Grinning from ear to ear.  Sure, he was wearing a hat to cover his bald head, and it was apparent that he didn’t even have eyelashes… but none of that stood out.  He was beaming.  The mom was tearing up, and the boy’s dad and sister were both looking incredibly happy as well.

It was only when I heard the rest of their story when I was really inspired, however… this boy was diagnosed with an incredibly rare strain of cancer – only 200 cases are reported worldwide each year.  They had to take out three of his ribs and a small part of his lung along with the tumor that had developed.  To top it off, since he’s too young for a transplant, one of his ribs had to be broken so that it could fill up the hole that was cut in his lung.  

This boy is eleven years old.  Eleven.  He’s already gone through so much… and who knows what else awaits him in the future.  But despite all of the pain that he’s gone through, he was just filled with so much peace and grace.  Seriously, he was the most polite kid I’ve ever met.  Every time I brought something to the table, he was the first to say, “thank you.”  And every time he asked for something, he started with, “May I please have…”  

I was floored.  And very blessed to witness the indescribable joy of this whole family.  It’s really humbling, really… to know that there’s so much more going on in this world than we can imagine, and yet we close ourselves into our own little cubicles that we call life.  

We can choose to look back on life and be full of regret or resentment with the trials that we’ve faced…. but the thing is, God is faithful and He brings us through them.  Even if we just barely scrape by… we still make it.  

This boy made it.  And yeah, he could have become way spoiled by being pampered from his sickness… he could have been regretful for missing out on “normal” life.  But instead, I could tell that he will choose to live the rest of his life knowing that he won a huge victory, and be proud.  He will choose to know that even if life might bring another curve ball around the corner, he’ll somehow get through it.  

I really hope I can begin to live the same way… to look back on every little triumph I’ve had (although they don’t even come close to this kid…), and know that I have become stronger through them.  And instead of being hurt by my past, I really hope that I can choose to see that every trial that God has brought me through is a reason to rejoice.

God bless that family.

Oh, for all sheepishness…

This is what I just realized:

I looked at my tagline for my blog title, “Musings of a form… what?”

This whole time, I’ve said musings of a “formally” timid girl…  instead of “formerly.”

AWESOME.  (Lacey, this is a perfect example of your recent blog post, is it not?)

I’m still saying “formally” and “formerly” out loud to myself and snickering.

What You Hold

(Originally written 10/23/07. Wow, last fall.  Age: 24)

tomorrow -
a week -
a month -
a year.

all that matters to me seem a bit strangled
with the fear of you.
always a step ahead of me,
always around a corner i can’t see.

i know you’re supposed to be an adventure
i know what you have in store is good
a breath of fresh air, a change in scenery…
a new page, new chapter, new life…?

no… i’m not ready for you.

not even a bit.

because what you hold is only haunting
there’s no comfort in your dawn of a new morn;
i only grieve the setting of the sunlight i have now, today.

what you hold leaves me lacking
reminding me of all the things that i am not;
your shoes are just too big for me to fit.

what you hold is simply daunting
i stand here, powerless, with no direction;
a single step forward would render me lost.

no… i’m not ready for you.

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(Today’s Notes)

I wrote this poem on the brink of graduating Hope.  Getting my big-ol-BA.  Putting together my Sacred Concert project (in other words, an hour-and-a-half-long worship event), writing major term papers wrapping up all of my beliefs and Biblical perspectives surrounding my major, working two jobs, an internship, and involving myself in extracurricular activities…

And I was so lost.

Here I was, at the pinnacle of achieving something really important in my life, surrounded by the friends I was finally getting attached to in California, and actually enjoying myself despite the huge load of work I faced every day.  It was great.  But I was convinced that after all of this was over, I’d be packing up my life and moving to another foreign territory where I would inevitably disappear into the abyss.

I was scared.

You see, the major reason why Jeremy and I moved from Colorado to California was for him to go to film school in Denver.  It was his turn to get his BA.  His turn to accomplish something, to be the “main purpose” of our place of being (I know… this was the frame of mind I had a year ago.  Nice and mature of me isn’t it?).

I, on the other hand, didn’t have a plan.  I had no idea what step to take after graduating.  Grad school?  Teaching?  Heck, I dunno!  But overarching this whole fear of the future was this greater fear of becoming lost in a place where I didn’t know anyone.

And here’s the uglier truth: I was afraid of becoming “Jeremy’s wife.”  No further identity.  Just a girl that worked and cooked for her hubby, supported his schooling, yada yada yada.

How stupid of me.

Really, though!  I just realized while looking back at all of this, my frame of mind was so limited – so zeroed in on what my purpose was.  What my significance would be.  I was afraid of becoming a nobody with nothing to do — just because I wasn’t doing anything “important”.  And with that, completely doubting God’s greater plan for other people’s lives.

Isn’t it funny how our brains – and our media – and our fantastic American culture – narrow our mindset to making ourselves the only important one?  How it tries to twist us into the sole hero/heroine of our grand production of life? (And by the way, mine would be a crazy-awesome musical. Not a movie.)

Sigh.  Anyway.

I guess I was also afraid of were silly myths of having to be a “grown-up” after college.  Having to find a career or some other grandeur scheme to follow.  Pay bills by trying to find a job I didn’t even feel qualified for… I didn’t feel ready at all.

But looking back on this past year, I see that God actually has had a purpose for me.  He’s graciously used me in different ways without me even knowing about it (and, according to Oswald Chambers, that’s the way it should be).  Not to mention, He’s been working in me to become more like Him, bit by bit, little by little.  I’ve learned to just “be” (more on that coming up in future “past” blogs…)

What’s more, the journey thus far hasn’t been as daunting as I’ve feared it would be.  I’m not alone; God has provided amazing friendships here, and my friends from far away are still a significant part of my life.  I even have people I get along with at work that makes my job enjoyable.

And finally, I do have purpose.  I am my own person.  I am an individual apart from my own husband, but I also get to share different adventures with him and with others around me.  I have a name, it’s Caroline – not “Jeremy’s wife”.  And I have an identity – I am in fact, “Jeremy’s wife” (and feel lucky and proud to be), but I am other things as well.  On top of that, I’m now discovering that I actually have an identity beyond who I was and what I did in school.  It’s incredible!

I am incredibly blessed.  I still do worry about the future, but definitely not as much as before.  I’m learning to trust that God really does have His hand over our lives, and He gives us direction in so many subtle ways that it’s impossible to feel insignificant.  It’s awe-striking to think about that; to know that our omnipotent, omniscient, ever-loving God sees each of us as His kids, all having purpose and reason to be here, now.

If I ever feel myself slumping into another phase like the one last year, I give you full permission to slap me in the head and tell me to shut up.  Because I know I never will have a valid reason to feel that way again.  And friends, I thank you in advance for that.  (But watch out… I may do the same to you.  Out of love, of course.)

My Weirdest Habit

(Originally written 7/25/2007. Age: 24)

 

that’s right. i have a really weird habit… and it’s kind of a sheepish confession to make. (don’t worry, it’s nothing really offensive!) 

whenever i think about an embarrassing moment i’ve had in the past (saying something silly in front of a crush i used to have, being the nerd with glasses and frizzly hair in 5th grade, being uber cheezy in the springtime and shouting on the streets, “aren’t the cherry blossoms BEAUTIFUL??”, to name a few… seriously.), this is what i do: i bite my lip and hum. or mumble something nonsensical. then i try to shake it off and move on with my day. it’s so WEIRD, right?? doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. but it happens. 

and i realized recently that, well – i let this weird habit of mine happen a lot. on my worst days, on an hourly basis. (you can probably imagine heads turning and looking at me like i’m crazy, humming and mumbling to myself in public…) and you know what? it’s kind of sad… not just because i’m part crazy, but because it kinda means that i tend to dwell on the past more than i need to. 

but don’t we all do that, to some degree? no, not bite our lips and hum nonsense… what i mean is, everyone has a hands-down, “oh-no-i-didn’t-no-i-just-did” embarrassing moment that is really hard to let go of. and we somehow find a cupboard in our brain to tuck it away in, and it will gather dust. sometimes for a while. but once your mind starts wandering, munching at thoughts in different cabinets, it will run across that menacingly dusty memory. and we will squirm. 

or will we? probably not. eventually, we really do move on. i know in some cases, i have (especially the cherry-blossom comment in the springtime.) and you know — it feels good to move on. and then, it feels even better – although awkward – to look back on these memories, because we end up realizing how much we’ve grown up, and at the same time, how humble and lowly and nerdy we are as human beings. 

i am a nerd. there’s no escaping it! but when it comes down to it, we are all nerdish in our obscure ways. it’s like God made so many colors with crazy names like “electric blue” and stuffed us all in a Crayola box and called it the human race. i like it. it’s necessary. i just hope i become more and more comfortable with the crayon God made me to color the world in, and not be so worried anymore about the times i colored outside the lines in years past. i’ll get better.

 

(Notes for today)

My weird habit remains.  But I happily embrace it.

What are your obscure habits?  What color do you think you are in this Crayola box world?