Uppercase Delta

Criticism has never sat well with me. Lack of affirmation equated to disapproval, anything less than praise was tantamount to a personal affront against every fibre of my being. Offended, yes, but much more long-lasting was the agony of rejection. No it’s not hyperbole. It hurt a lot more when I was younger; over time I developed the lovely ability to filter negative comments, and rationalize away (erroneously) the ones that got through. Didn’t matter how many times I was told I need to change such and such about myself, because people didn’t really understand, or were misinformed or otherwise ill-suited to make a judgment call. Who knows me better than me? NO ONE.

Read something this past spring but it’s only of late that it’s been put into practice. Apparently all people with my personality type (based on research by Jung, Briggs, and Myers) are prone to taking in data only if it justifies personal opinions, feeling seriously threatened by criticism, and becoming more and more unaware of others’ perspectives and isolated from the world. I’ve often been told I’m odd or strange. Which makes sense because how normal can someone be if they block out what’s “normal”. I get a lot that I’m difficult to understand or get to know (which also hurts me), also typical for my “type”. I’m not here to share the good news about personality tests, so moving on. The recommendation was to be open to differing opinions/perspectives.

Crazy thing is that it’s already made an impact, and it’s been less than a month. Someone talked to me about my driving (again) but this time, instead of fighting back I just listened. Especially the part when they said, “so-and-so has an idea of how cars around them will react, and act accordingly, but you make the first move without that awareness,” I immediately wanted to protest and dismiss but kept my mouth shut. And let the assessment stew around in my brain for a day or two. Concluded that no I don’t drive around oblivious to what other cars will do, but I do drive as if they’re drones in a video game and not human beings with feelings. I drive without much concern for whether I annoy/frighten others. Unless I frighten old people, and I see them pull off to the side in tremors; then and only then am I filled with a heavy dose of regret and guilt. But the next minute I forget. I’ve made half-hearted pledges before, but equipped with this new-found insight, I see that my driving is changing. New motto is let’s not be a public nuisance, and cars are people too, and also you can’t afford a speeding ticket.

It’s been helpful in other areas too. For the first time in my life I’m almost (almost) looking forward to conflict just so I can learn from it. Especially want to change because people in ministry shouldn’t be self-centered/ difficult to get to know / block out others. Well, no one should. But who I am wants to be more like who I will be.

I’ll Never Let Go Jack

“And I’ve never spoken of him until now… Not to anyone… Not even your grandfather… A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets.”

When I first watched Titanic in the movie theaters (twice) I thought it sounded sort of beautiful but mysterious. The older I get, the more it resonates. And I like the analogy. Most people splash around in shallow waters, low level commitment. The deeper the venturing, the greater the dedication/investment required. And man has yet to see the bottom. Can’t see the depths of your own heart. Memories slowly sink further and further below; some to eventually resurface, others never again to see the light of day.

Bye-Bye

Sophie’s Choice was when she had to choose which of her children would be killed. “You can only keep one.” What a gut-wrenching proposition. It was so painful and draining that it was shot in one take, Meryl Streep refused to do it more than once. Faced with no other alternative, she tells them to take her daughter, and keeps her son.

They always ask you that question. If you can only save your kid or your spouse, who would it be. Most women say kid, most men say wife. In college I would’ve said kid in a heartbeat. Haven’t thought about it for a long time, but my answer has changed. Had I married a few years out of college and popped out a few kids, maybe it wouldn’t have. But it has. Why. The abridged/facetious explanation is that I’m only going to marry if he’s perfect, and perfect men are rare, therefore deserving of being saved. Not sure whether I feel up to getting into the long explanation, but here goes. So I used to be somewhat more fairy tale and fluff in my concept of men and relationships. I thought any two people could marry and be fine as long as they’re both Christian and want to make it work. And I used to think church pews across the nation were just strewn with eligible and marriageable men. I’ve found both assumptions to be false, or at least faulty. A, there’s a whole lot of personality/compatibility issues that come into play to enhance/detract from relationship, and B, no. There are options, God’s given me more than my share of options, but none of them appeal to me. Or I want to pick and choose qualities from amongst them, because no one is the total package. And I kind of want to stay overly particular so that I can be single forever and therefore happy forever. Jokes aside, what I mean to say is that if you find someone worth marrying, especially when it’s been a long road, there’s greater value and weight, and you wouldn’t let go so easily. Like the difference between being given allowance for no reason every week, and working hard in the grueling heat all summer for the same amount. You might buy the same thing, but in the latter scenario at a much greater cost. There’s a treasuring component that just wouldn’t otherwise exist. I’m skeptical of finding even one person, there’s no way there’s another. If I had to choose, I’m sorry fruit of my womb.

However, if the option were between me and my nonexistent kids, kids no question.

Your One and Only

Went on an Adele youtube binge the other day. Interviews as well as songs. I either LOVE or feel absolutely nothing toward them. I love the obvious ones, Make You Feel My Love and Someone Like You, I could listen to them all day on repeat. And then I stumbled upon One and Only. From the first few notes I was hooked. Lyrics, almost felt like she was trying to win me over. But as it progressed, somehow her voice became my voice. And I liked it. Makes you want to slow dance real close in a devastating dress by moonlight in the city. Then around 3:25 it turns into a different song altogether. And it makes my heart stop every time. The rest of the song is possibly genuine, but banks on bravado. With its halting notes, the bridge steadily emerges from beneath all the confidence/optimism, and the repetition borders on the Good Will Hunting “It’s not your fault” scene. She’s speaking right to me and it’s almost cathartic. And it’s enough to change my mind about things. I love her.

Expletives Deleted

Making people laugh is easier when cuss words and vulgarities are on the table. And meanness. Especially meanness. I guess this is the post where I expose all the evil within. What is it about finding the perfect biting remark that is so humorous to me. But it’s not funny to its fullest potential unless the other person is of the same persuasion. And bites back. I used to be really quotable back in high school and early college; people would take the things I say and post them in their AIM statuses and profiles for extended periods of time. I still maintain that I don’t mean the words I say and used them purely for entertainment value. Asshole remarks aren’t funny when you’re actually an asshole. Only have had a handful of friends with the same sense of humor: a couple Korean girls, and white high school friends. Maybe it goes back to things being wrong in this world, poking fun at it, finding glee in it. You laugh and laugh but somewhere deep within you’re crying. The perversity of the response: for man knows he’s fallen.

Once Again

I see it and I want to say something but I’m not going to. I see it and I want to say something but I’m not going to. I see it and I want to say something but I’m not going to. I see it and I want to say something but I’m not going to. I see it and I want to say something but I’m not going to. I see it and I want to say something and I might. Five in six, not bad for an impetuous girl who doesn’t often think about the consequences.

Righting

I’ve wanted to write a children’s theology book since seminary. Partly because I am still a child inside and the way I learn is similar to the way a child would learn. The ability to articulate your faith is vital, for yourself and for those with whom you interact. If there’s any great “mission” for me, it’s along the lines of enabling people to do so. I feel like that was me for so long. Church all my life, basic understanding, but couldn’t really talk about it for more than a minute if that. The fact that it dealt with the spiritual kept me unsure and uncertain of the “right” way to say things. Even in college, I was hesitant to say too much for fear that someone would judge my brand of Christianity. I love systematic theology because it lays everything out in a way that you can wrap your head around. Not that it’s the end all be all (norma normans), but it’s an effective way to become conversant with important topics in Scripture. Reminds me who my God is.

You hear a lot of questionable sermons in your life. You get a lot of weird stuff thrown into your theology slash concept of God and of man. Not that my theology is fully formed by any means, but I’m so thankful for what I’ve learned. I wanted to go to seminary because I wanted a stronger foundation for my faith, and that’s what I got. But it doesn’t stop there, I want other people to develop a stronger foundation too. The more I talk with my kids, both young and old, the more I see the pressing need for it. I’m planning on starting a weekly study group with some of the college girls, and hoping that prep for our meetings will become part of the skeleton for the book. I want it to be like a crash course in seminary for people who don’t plan on going. But fun and colorful. And edifying and elucidating and equipping, helping to build up the church.

So tired. Every night I’m playing catch up. Sleep schedule’s been off for a long time.

Sponsor an Elle

“Your tax-deductible contribution of just $38 a month connects your child with a loving, church-based Child Sponsorship Program that provides:

• Food and clean water
• Medical care
• Educational opportunities
• Important life-skills training
• Most important of all, your sponsored child will hear about Jesus Christ and be encouraged to develop a lifelong relationship with God.”

So if a kid can live off of thirty-eight bucks a month, figure I can live off $270. Three dollars per meal. For all of September. So far I’ve stayed under. Some people ask if it’s to diet, but that’s just an added bonus. My paycheck is numerically challenged, and I want to spend as much as I can on things that matter. Plus in-n-out burger and katsu musubi are both less than three dollars a pop. Mayyybe I will start eating vitamins.

If I make it, then next month I’m going to try one dollar per meal.

Tinselletown

Made my first cinematic collaboration this/last week. It was fun and definitely a learning experience. I didn’t have too many expectations, other than that the acting would be impeccable and exactly replicate the characters I’d imagined. But as in real life, people are unpredictable and unable to be controlled even when they desire it. The good thing with movies is the editing; you’re allowed to cut out what you don’t like and give scenes a totally different feel, and I love that. Showcasing the beauty, hiding the ugly.

This was also the first time in a long time working together with someone else on a project. Last summer Edwin helped me out, mostly with deadlines and talking out ideas. But it wasn’t like I had to depend on him to alter or create his own images for the shirts. This time was definitely a joint endeavor. I liked it in the beginning, having another person’s direct and immediate feedback, getting excited about the story, et cetera. I feel like a kid saying this, but now I want to make one all by myself. Working together always involves compromise and concession. Which is good and great, but when it comes to creative expression, I feel the need to follow through with what I see in my head. We have this finished movie, and all I can say is, “Well this is partly what I wanted.” Other factors play into why just partly, but yes. Personal preference.

Hollywood movies list hundreds of people in their rolling credits. They say it intimidates a lot of new or low budget filmmakers. For me I don’t get scared in the least, I just pore over the list, look up what titles mean, and ask how can I do each of these things. What else is there that could be done to make my movie better. Definitely making one hundred percent elle for love movies for my filmmaking class this fall. Super excited yo.

I want to make movies that I love, movies that would be my favorites anyway, that I can watch over and over again without the story or characters getting old or tiresome. Movies that make the audience feel things deeply, feel them to the core. Sigh but smile.