Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Rainstorms

Caught in the middle of a torrential downpour without an umbrella or proper attire, I rush for reprieve and refuge anywhere I might find shelter. In this moment I am frantic and frustrated. I am trapped in my circumstance, held captive by the grip of my discomfort.

It isn't until later, not until I've found refuge that I stop to listen. I focus on the rain; thousands of drops of water weighing down on everything around me. I hear them gently falling upon the grass, beating down upon the rough sidewalk, muffled thuds pitter-patter rhythmically on the roof above me; my senses are alerted to my surroundings in a way that brings life to my world. 

I enjoy the sound of rain from within my shelter. It is here that the chaos becomes a spectacle for the senses.

Right now I'm feeling somewhat caught in the middle of a storm. Trying to decide on which path Leah and I will take with a major decision has me running in all directions trying to find answers. I feel overwhelmed by possibilities beyond my control, desperately seeking protection and guidance. However, despite feeling soaked by this uncertainty part of me is aware of the beauty of this metaphorical storm. I long to experience even this situation with the sort of rested calm that accompanies shelter. 

In demanding answers to difficult questions, I need to learn the patience to listen to the storm around me, even if it does involve getting soaked in the process.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

How we see ourselves

It's funny to me that it takes me so long to begin writing down these thoughts as they come to mind. It's not funny, but I needed to start somewhere. This next thought isn't necessarily funny either, but the expression is such a comfortable convention that I'll employ it for the sake of familiarity....

It's funny that we become self-conscious before we become self-aware. It's also funny (in an unfunny way) that these two terms have come to represent such different concepts within our society. Consciousness, being in very nature a state of mental awareness or, in association with the self, may refer to a state of meta-awareness wherein an individual may reflect on their own conscious thoughts. However, in contemporary usage when we speak of self-consciousness we look beyond a sort of philosophical gaze to instead consider a much more vulnerable and frail personal critique of who we are and how we are seen by others. In contrast with this delicate notion of the self-conscious individual, the term self-aware is an empowering affirmation of comfort and confidence. In addition, as I've stated above, it seems peculiar that we first relate to the self in such unstable and potentially damaging ways that we must learn to move beyond toward a firmly rooted concept of identity.

Why the rant? I suppose my own uncertainty has required me to oscillate between these two means of self-conception in my life of late. It's funny (again) that we should expect some level of comfort in a life that is full of new experiences, as though the world should present some sort of rediscovery or remembrance rather than novelty. However, as I have come to leave my own educational path in hopes of finding the sort of career work worthy of my lifelong ambitions I have been confronted with self-consciousness. By stumbling around in the darkness of uncertainty, in the discomforting silence spent waiting for any response I have become reacquainted with the very self-conscious I describe above. 

The resurrection of my previously vanquished foe has been discouraging as I began to question everything. Is this the career for me? Am I really good enough? Why haven't they called? What if I don't get hired? What if I need to move away? What if I move away and I still don't get hired? How can I be a provider if I can't even get a job? What kind of husband can't take care of his wife? It's in this silence, as these questions arise, that the self-conscious mind is fed by doubt and my worries grow. The questions get bigger, my confidence shrinks, and I am anything but self-aware. Though I have known myself before, I am now full of uncertainty. This is when I should place my trust in God, this is when I should cling to the knowledge that He is greater than my own worries, but yet this is also when this is most difficult. I keep telling myself that He is in control and as much as I know it to be true I also keep asking myself whether I will be able to do anything about these questions. Even when I get news, when I get a call back, when I get an interview, I wonder whether it is truly because of me or whether fortune has favored me on this occasion. If God provides, am I just the fortunate recipient of a prayer based lottery response? Is my faithfulness rewarded while others wait?

It's only when the storms of doubt pass, and clarity is restored, that I begin to feel self-aware. When I can now look back on the ways God showed up, and the ways my work and dedication has led me to my current place, I can trade self-conscious anxieties for self-aware confidence. When seasons of life offer such revelations, I can't help but consider the larger implications. What if I spend my life unsure of my role, or worried about what others are thinking, or how I'm perceived, or the mistakes I have made? Will I look back with the sort of wisdom one must earn and laugh at the foolishness of a self-conscious mind? Is there any way to make permanent the self-awareness one feels in a moment?

I know I will come to experience life altering events, come to conclusions about the world that expand my horizons and come to challenge the paradigms with which I relate to the world, but is there any way to do this will the self-awareness we feel at the end of the day. Is this what peace and joy are, or is there some other way to describe this state? Whatever it may be, this is a goal of mine. I wish to know my place in the world and feel confidence in the change I can bring about. I think this is something I can do. If not, perhaps this is something I can teach someone else to do, since I'm apparently qualified to teach and I feel like this sort of a lesson is worth passing on.