Dory in Finding Nemo has the best attitude ever. Her mantra of Just Keep Swimming was definitely with me as I hit the cold water hard and fast at 5:15am this morning.
Embracing a new training schedule is always a little daunting, but two-a-days, bricks, and 5:15 am M-Th would have to border on insanity. Only three weeks into this whole shebang (and just two into the true tri schedule) and I am feeling surprisingly well. Approaching training from a completely different perspective has truly made me appreciate each new physical skill I gain or sharpen.
I have been out of the pool for 11 years, which is as many as I spent in it as a child. I have embraced my love of chlorine smell with full force and have felt a freedom that never truly manifests itself in roadrunning. Being in water and using my arms and legs to thrust myself up and down feels natural, comfortable, peaceful. Though I have to push to maintain speed or form, it is a great joy. As if I have been transported to another time or place and not here in this cold pool at O'dark:30.
This training will prove a very hard task for me, but with the feeling obtained by a few short laps in the pool, I will certainly "just keep swimming".
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Who is welcome? Aren't we all?
I find myself, like every Christian or frankly any religious practioner at some point, at a major crossroads of faith practice. I do not question the existence of God, my belief in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of His son Jesus Christ, nor do I question the need for spiritual practice, being a part of a faith community or faith and good works. However, I find myself at this difficult place of how to practice and which community with which to practice.
As a cradle Episcopalian, I have only a few small diversions of the Anglican path, a short stint as a Presbyterian while in Kansas City (a great experience, but not a lifetime commitment) and six months amongst a non-denominational contemporary community (great worship, but like an onion, you must peel the layers to reveal the true aroma...) Now, having married a lapsed Catholic, being angered at my local Episcopal parish (NOT the church as a whole), and trying to complete a very full training schedule while working full time, I have found myself without a church home and struggling to find my place as a Christian. I am not the first Christian to struggle with finding the right theological and liturgical fit, I will not be the last. But it does weight on my heart so heavily.
I have attended the Catholic church many times in the last two months, with very devoted and educated Catholic friends, and have found moving and thoughtful preaching. But, as I am not a Catholic, I am often led to deep sorrow as we reach the time of Eucharist and I am not considered worthy to receive. Having been a part of an amazing inclusive community of the Episcopal church, it is unfathomable to me to be denied a place at the Lord's table for not following the same catechism or even if I have faithful beliefs, not being welcomed because I have not taken a course or completed a ritual. I often find myself wondering, didn't Jesus teach us to love and embrace all? Did he perform the Last Supper with his friends to teach us to do the same in remembrance of Him, but only if you are a member of this denomination? Did He sacrifice His life on the cross for all of our sins, or just those who follow a particular catechism, be it Catholic, Protestant, or Protestant-Evangelical?
On the flip side, I hesitate to return to a non-denominational setting as I have yet to find one that, once you peel the layers, is truly inclusive. I am so terribly uncomfortable with the "God doesn't change...Jesus hates gay people...the only issue in the church is gay marriage....we vote republican, if you're a christian you do to" mentality that is held by so many evangelical Christians today. Andrew Sullivan puts it best when he says "There are very orthodox believers who nonetheless respect the freedom and conscience of others as part of their core understanding of what being a Christian is."
As a believer in Christ, I do not see how it is Christian to not respect all of God's people and welcome anyone who wishes to seek God to our Lord's table? There are those who are incredibly firm in their faith practice and beliefs but understand that Jesus first taught us to love one another.
I shall not abandon my faith thought this step on the journey. I will not question the foundations, but must study further the theology, liturgy, catechism and whatever else you would like to name it behind the different versions of Christian community. Hopefully, through prayer and patience, the way will be made clear and my family will be led to a new church home.
In the meantime, I hold fast to the belief that regardless of one's espousing or pontifications that we are simply told to love one another.
As a cradle Episcopalian, I have only a few small diversions of the Anglican path, a short stint as a Presbyterian while in Kansas City (a great experience, but not a lifetime commitment) and six months amongst a non-denominational contemporary community (great worship, but like an onion, you must peel the layers to reveal the true aroma...) Now, having married a lapsed Catholic, being angered at my local Episcopal parish (NOT the church as a whole), and trying to complete a very full training schedule while working full time, I have found myself without a church home and struggling to find my place as a Christian. I am not the first Christian to struggle with finding the right theological and liturgical fit, I will not be the last. But it does weight on my heart so heavily.
I have attended the Catholic church many times in the last two months, with very devoted and educated Catholic friends, and have found moving and thoughtful preaching. But, as I am not a Catholic, I am often led to deep sorrow as we reach the time of Eucharist and I am not considered worthy to receive. Having been a part of an amazing inclusive community of the Episcopal church, it is unfathomable to me to be denied a place at the Lord's table for not following the same catechism or even if I have faithful beliefs, not being welcomed because I have not taken a course or completed a ritual. I often find myself wondering, didn't Jesus teach us to love and embrace all? Did he perform the Last Supper with his friends to teach us to do the same in remembrance of Him, but only if you are a member of this denomination? Did He sacrifice His life on the cross for all of our sins, or just those who follow a particular catechism, be it Catholic, Protestant, or Protestant-Evangelical?
On the flip side, I hesitate to return to a non-denominational setting as I have yet to find one that, once you peel the layers, is truly inclusive. I am so terribly uncomfortable with the "God doesn't change...Jesus hates gay people...the only issue in the church is gay marriage....we vote republican, if you're a christian you do to" mentality that is held by so many evangelical Christians today. Andrew Sullivan puts it best when he says "There are very orthodox believers who nonetheless respect the freedom and conscience of others as part of their core understanding of what being a Christian is."
As a believer in Christ, I do not see how it is Christian to not respect all of God's people and welcome anyone who wishes to seek God to our Lord's table? There are those who are incredibly firm in their faith practice and beliefs but understand that Jesus first taught us to love one another.
I shall not abandon my faith thought this step on the journey. I will not question the foundations, but must study further the theology, liturgy, catechism and whatever else you would like to name it behind the different versions of Christian community. Hopefully, through prayer and patience, the way will be made clear and my family will be led to a new church home.
In the meantime, I hold fast to the belief that regardless of one's espousing or pontifications that we are simply told to love one another.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Connections.
I started a new grad class last night and am so incredibly excited to have a professor who is thoughtful, knowledgeable, and organized. I can tell just by the first meeting that this class will be challenging, encouraging, and awakening for me.
As it was the first night, there was much talking and paperwork to attend to, and of course, the traditional first class "icebreaker". As we did our partner interviews and presented, it was quite amazing to see the connections between our small class of 11.
For example, I run marathons, so has another classmate who ran one for TNT which supports cancer research, another classmate is a cancer survivor. Then, a classmate said that she attended Barton College, not only is Barton my middle name, but I have a friend who attended Barton College (which is a very small college...). Next to find that a classmate has been on safari to Kenya, as I have been on Safari to Kenya. While these might seem silly and not so unique, they make lovely points of connections.
The most interesting connection between almost all of us is our greatest source of pride. All but two of us cited moving away from home and living away from friends and family to establish our independence as a proud moment. (The other two, cited their families as their source of pride) I find this fascinating as I believe that our life's travels are what give us the greatest education we could find.
Our class topic is change. We will study and apply change processes within the realm of school reform. I certainly think that our wealth of connections to each other and the world around us will bring great discussion and insight as we tackle the issues of change in our educational settings.
After a disappointed start to my journey in graduate education, I'm so pleased to have finally found a place amongst those eager to learn and eager to teach!
As it was the first night, there was much talking and paperwork to attend to, and of course, the traditional first class "icebreaker". As we did our partner interviews and presented, it was quite amazing to see the connections between our small class of 11.
For example, I run marathons, so has another classmate who ran one for TNT which supports cancer research, another classmate is a cancer survivor. Then, a classmate said that she attended Barton College, not only is Barton my middle name, but I have a friend who attended Barton College (which is a very small college...). Next to find that a classmate has been on safari to Kenya, as I have been on Safari to Kenya. While these might seem silly and not so unique, they make lovely points of connections.
The most interesting connection between almost all of us is our greatest source of pride. All but two of us cited moving away from home and living away from friends and family to establish our independence as a proud moment. (The other two, cited their families as their source of pride) I find this fascinating as I believe that our life's travels are what give us the greatest education we could find.
Our class topic is change. We will study and apply change processes within the realm of school reform. I certainly think that our wealth of connections to each other and the world around us will bring great discussion and insight as we tackle the issues of change in our educational settings.
After a disappointed start to my journey in graduate education, I'm so pleased to have finally found a place amongst those eager to learn and eager to teach!
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Life is a Highway...
My three and a half year old neice is obsessed with the movie Cars. It is kind of cool that she is obsessed with this movie rather than say, a princess or barbie movie...The other day I was driving her (and her sister) in her mother's car and she asked for "Real Gone" on the cd player (the Sheryl Crow song to which she knows all the words, such good taste she has....) and she said "play Life is a Highway next". Alas, I could not find it on the mix cd of Disney hits, but I have not been able to get Life is a Highway out of my head.
Though the words of the song, except the chorus, escape me completely, it is the title that strikes me as so poignant at this time in my life. My life in the last ten years has taken me up and down many highways, perhaps more than the average quarterlifer+. I have traversed I-70 more times that I care to mention to and from Kansas City, Missouri for four and a half years in college, though I must say that taking 64 is much more beautiful through the horse fields of Kentucky. Taking these roads showed me non-black and white cows for the first time, it showed me more sky than I knew existed, it showed me a world of people who are committed to their faith and will not be told anything else. It showed me greatest friendships, simpler life, and frankly, a lot of beer. That road was the first development of my independence and the beginning of my faith walk.
A quick detour up 71 took me to a teeny little town in Iowa. The loneliest (up to that point) I had ever felt. Living a life of absolute cookie cutter consistency. Wake Up, Eat, Drive, Work, Gym, Home. (church, choir Thursdays and Sundays, movies @ 2 on Sunday). I learned in this instance the beauty of being alone with God. This particular highway had me realize that I was not willing to settle in my life for what was easy or content. I'm so very glad to have taken an exit off this road quickly. Then just a quick trip down 71 and 29 I found my way back to a different kind of contentment. I learned of great teachers at during my exit in Kansas City. I also gained a true love of worship music, which I still love today. But perhaps, the greatest thing I gained on my last exit in the Midwest was my first steps of running. They were not fast, and they certainly were not consistent or enduring, but they were the earliest building blocks of my life changes ahead.
Then came the year on the road. 3000 miles across from Washington, DC to Los Angeles, California. I have written extensively about this in other places that have lost their way in the abyss of the internet, but to cap the highlights. The first exit off of "The 10" taught me about diversity, being awash in the culture of Los Angeles was more eye opening to me than I could have imagined. On this stop, I also became star-struck several times, spent a lot of time in traffic and semi-conquered a fear of heights by living on the 20th floor with a floor to ceiling window (have you seen Fight Club? My apartment was blown up.....).
The next exit on the year on the road was Austin. I learned to love to run in Austin. Truly loved to run (and scull, even if for only a short time). Running became my refuge in a place where I was demoralized on a regular basis. I learned that a truly that diversity can exist in the same sentence as educated, that martyrs are sometimes more appreciated that efficient, hard workers, and that seeing someone carry a hand gun in their briefcase is frightening.
The almost final exit on my tour of duty led me to a place I hope never to return in Ohio. If I felt demoralized in Texas, I didn't know what would hit me until I came to Ohio. Again, running became my refuge. I came to the realization in this place that people can become content with mediocrity, that incompentence can be justified if it fits a racial quota, and that many who claim to be educators are merely bureaucrats in comfortable shoes. A redeeming value to this stop, my first marathon. Long, slow, painful. Joyous, proud, and bitten (by the bug to race long that is...)
As I have spoken of before, my next road in life's journey led me back to California. IT was here that I realized that family had to be first, being in a classroom with children was more important to me that being a talking head, and that if you truly love something, you must set it free. I also learned that just because you live at the beach, doesn't mean you go.....
My journey back across I-70 and home to my family has brought me so many rich blessings. Returning to the thros of education, both public and independent has made me realize that God has given me such a gift. I get to spend my working days with kids, the most amazing people on the planet. I have also come to realize that if I missed any more time from my neices' childhood that I would come to regret the loss. Watching these two girls grow and change is incredible and I hope a good model for me when I decide to embrace motherhood. My running has changed since I have come home too. A different blessing in all of its own, new health, new friends, and a confidence that comes from knowing that I can achieve great things with hard work and the support of others.
My life could not have been as rich if I had not taken that highway ten years ago. The roads have been long, I've watched the seasons change in many states. I have seen the highest mountains, the hottest deserts, the great plains, and the deep blue sea. God's creation is a marvel, God's people are a gift, and God's plan is not always straight and narrow. Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long.
Though the words of the song, except the chorus, escape me completely, it is the title that strikes me as so poignant at this time in my life. My life in the last ten years has taken me up and down many highways, perhaps more than the average quarterlifer+. I have traversed I-70 more times that I care to mention to and from Kansas City, Missouri for four and a half years in college, though I must say that taking 64 is much more beautiful through the horse fields of Kentucky. Taking these roads showed me non-black and white cows for the first time, it showed me more sky than I knew existed, it showed me a world of people who are committed to their faith and will not be told anything else. It showed me greatest friendships, simpler life, and frankly, a lot of beer. That road was the first development of my independence and the beginning of my faith walk.
A quick detour up 71 took me to a teeny little town in Iowa. The loneliest (up to that point) I had ever felt. Living a life of absolute cookie cutter consistency. Wake Up, Eat, Drive, Work, Gym, Home. (church, choir Thursdays and Sundays, movies @ 2 on Sunday). I learned in this instance the beauty of being alone with God. This particular highway had me realize that I was not willing to settle in my life for what was easy or content. I'm so very glad to have taken an exit off this road quickly. Then just a quick trip down 71 and 29 I found my way back to a different kind of contentment. I learned of great teachers at during my exit in Kansas City. I also gained a true love of worship music, which I still love today. But perhaps, the greatest thing I gained on my last exit in the Midwest was my first steps of running. They were not fast, and they certainly were not consistent or enduring, but they were the earliest building blocks of my life changes ahead.
Then came the year on the road. 3000 miles across from Washington, DC to Los Angeles, California. I have written extensively about this in other places that have lost their way in the abyss of the internet, but to cap the highlights. The first exit off of "The 10" taught me about diversity, being awash in the culture of Los Angeles was more eye opening to me than I could have imagined. On this stop, I also became star-struck several times, spent a lot of time in traffic and semi-conquered a fear of heights by living on the 20th floor with a floor to ceiling window (have you seen Fight Club? My apartment was blown up.....).
The next exit on the year on the road was Austin. I learned to love to run in Austin. Truly loved to run (and scull, even if for only a short time). Running became my refuge in a place where I was demoralized on a regular basis. I learned that a truly that diversity can exist in the same sentence as educated, that martyrs are sometimes more appreciated that efficient, hard workers, and that seeing someone carry a hand gun in their briefcase is frightening.
The almost final exit on my tour of duty led me to a place I hope never to return in Ohio. If I felt demoralized in Texas, I didn't know what would hit me until I came to Ohio. Again, running became my refuge. I came to the realization in this place that people can become content with mediocrity, that incompentence can be justified if it fits a racial quota, and that many who claim to be educators are merely bureaucrats in comfortable shoes. A redeeming value to this stop, my first marathon. Long, slow, painful. Joyous, proud, and bitten (by the bug to race long that is...)
As I have spoken of before, my next road in life's journey led me back to California. IT was here that I realized that family had to be first, being in a classroom with children was more important to me that being a talking head, and that if you truly love something, you must set it free. I also learned that just because you live at the beach, doesn't mean you go.....
My journey back across I-70 and home to my family has brought me so many rich blessings. Returning to the thros of education, both public and independent has made me realize that God has given me such a gift. I get to spend my working days with kids, the most amazing people on the planet. I have also come to realize that if I missed any more time from my neices' childhood that I would come to regret the loss. Watching these two girls grow and change is incredible and I hope a good model for me when I decide to embrace motherhood. My running has changed since I have come home too. A different blessing in all of its own, new health, new friends, and a confidence that comes from knowing that I can achieve great things with hard work and the support of others.
My life could not have been as rich if I had not taken that highway ten years ago. The roads have been long, I've watched the seasons change in many states. I have seen the highest mountains, the hottest deserts, the great plains, and the deep blue sea. God's creation is a marvel, God's people are a gift, and God's plan is not always straight and narrow. Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long.
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