Don't act like you know me!

"Don't act like you know me!"

I heard somebody say that the other day. I don't remember who it was or the context... it might have been at the bus stop. But it left me thinking about so many things. I've been mulling this post over in my mind for a while, and it's finally coming to the "page" now. I hope it makes sense.

Recently I've talked to a few of my more introverted friends about communication styles. I, being a "verbal processor" and more extroverted, find communicating verbally really important. I enjoy banter; I like hearing/telling stories; and I like asking questions. I learned from good friends of mine (through their amazing examples) that one of the best ways to get to know a person is through asking questions and listening well. So, I try to make a practice of doing so.

What struck me with my introverted friends is that they rarely asked questions back. We got to talking about this... and if you want to know more, just ask. But it's not the topic I'll be covering here.

What got me thinking is this: while one often has to draw out an introvert, it is uncommon to have to draw out an extrovert. We the verbal will tell stories unprompted. We share our thoughts (sometimes feelings) more freely. We can sometimes even be heard speaking stream of consciousness about our day.

And I think.... through all that talking, we give the illusion that we are easily known.

Think about it. How well, how deeply do you know the extroverts in your life? Really?

Now there are some who are easily known. In fact, they'll tell you their entire life story and medical history if you'll stay in the room long enough, sometimes whether you're listening or not! They are the "need to be knowns" among us.

And then there are those among us who long to be known, as anyone does, but will not tell much unless we're asked. And why? Because in the asking is an expression that you care about the answer. "Why would I tell you about the real me if you don't care enough to ask?" is the general idea.

Then I began wondering-- how well am I known? How well do so many of my friends (who think they know me because they hear my stories or receive my updates) know me? And how did our relationship (only?) reach that level? Do these people realize how little / how much they know of me?

Tonight I was driving home mulling all of this over for the umpteenth time... thinking through the situations again and asking all of these self-centered questions... and a song came on the radio.

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

Those are the questions to ask. What do I know of You -- not what do they know of me. If the only thing they know of me is You, that is enough.



Addison Road - "What Do I Know Of Holy"

American Storytelling

There are many cultures in the world that have storytelling as one of the integral aspects of their people group's life. In fact, there are a few I have studied (or am studying) that hold the ability to tell their people group's stories up as a cultural value. There are organizations dedicated to preserving oral histories, people studying the oral histories of different nations, and conferences being held to teach the art of storytelling to Westerners who'd like to learn.

I was talking to some people, many moons ago now, who study storytelling. They were talking about how it is a dying, or basically dead art in the West. We've lost our storytelling abilities...

I'd like to contest that. I think country music is an integral part of American storytelling. It may not tell every story, but it tells many of them and in memorable ways.

So I made a list of songs I could think of quickly. There are others... older ones, like songs by Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, and others that I haven't included for the sake of time, but here are a few just to prove the point. Storytelling's not dead in America... but if they're not telling your story, maybe you should.
***
Society, Society's Values / Problems
"Prodigal Daughter" -- Allison Krauss
"Welcome to the Future" -- Brad Paisley
"Independence Day" -- Martina McBride
"That's a Man" -- Jack Ingram
"Famous People" -- Brad Paisley

Patriotism
"Do You Remember" -- Darryl Worley
"Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue" -- Toby Keith
"I'm Already There" -- Lonestar
"Only in America" -- Brooks and Dunn
"Where Were You" -- Alan Jackson

Raising Children
"Godspeed" -- Dixie Chicks
"Watching You" -- Rodney Atkins
"Skin (Sarabeth)" -- Rascal Flatts
"Mr. Mom" -- Lonestar

Dating / Marriage / Family
"Front Porch Looking In" -- Lonestar
"Little Bitty" -- Alan Jackson
"We Danced" -- Brad Paisley
"Suds in the Bucket" -- Sara Evans
"Angry all the Time" -- Tim McGraw
"Red Rag Top" -- Tim McGraw

Relationships: the Good
"Little Moments Like That" -- Brad Paisley
"We Danced Anyway" -- Deana Carter
"Wild One" -- Faith Hill
"There You Are" -- Martina McBride
"Our Song" -- Taylor Swift

Relationships: the Bad
"What I Really Meant to Say" -- Cyndi Thomson
"Best Days of Your Life" -- Kelly Pickler
"When You Need My Love" -- Darryl Worley
"You'll Think of Me" -- Keith Urban
"Picture to Burn" -- Taylor Swift

Relationships: the Ugly
"Before He Cheats" -- Carrie Underwood
"A Night to Remember" -- SHeDAISY
"White Liar" -- Miranda Lambert
"Cowboy Casanova" -- Carrie Underwood
"Gunpowder and Lead" -- Miranda Lambert
"Goodbye Earl" -- Dixie Chicks

Just Life
"Alright" -- Darius Rucker
"Wide Open Spaces" -- Dixie Chicks
"Back Where I Come From" -- Kenny Chesney
"My Next 30 Years" -- Tim McGraw
"Big Star" -- Kenny Chesney
"Famous in a Small Town" -- Miranda Lambert

university squirrels

Life at a university never ceases to be interesting. Today, I saw a squirrel on my way to class. That's not so unusual, I suppose, but the fact that he was just hanging out on the back tire of someone's bike is what caught my eye. Wish I'd had a camera out and at the ready to catch Mr. Squirrel's circus act.

The squirrels on the grounds of the university are innumerable. I couldn't even say how many I see in a day, but it feels like a thousand.

I live in a place where people are very eco-minded. There are recycling receptacles all over the place, especially at bus stops. Plastic brags about being "natural" and "compostible"; labels feature words like "organic" and "locally grown"; local businesses put bowls of water outside for passing dogs to take a drink from; bike helmets come in all sizes and colors to suit your tastes.

As a body, the students, faculty, and staff, being so ecologically minded as they are, are nice to the squirrels. I have not yet seen anyone feeding them by hand or anything, but they also don't taunt, chase, or kick them. The squirrels, it would seem, have become accustomed to the large bipeds that live amongst them, even around noontime when the bipeds can be seen in large numbers, snacking on granola and sipping smoothies. The squirrels have discovered that generally the large, colored quadrupeds whose feet are black and spin rather than "step" also seem to stop and let them go first, almost like a Chinese friend holding the door open and gesturing while saying "please, you first". The squirrels have run of the place.

Given that there is now nothing to fear from the two most obvious "dangers", the squirrels do tend to run willie-nillie throughout the place, carrying the large acorns that have begun to fall shoved into their tiny rodent mouths. What is amazing is this: they are no longer afraid. The squirrels have lost their instinctual fear of people and cars, to some extent, and now live as though nothing bad will ever befall them.

Interesting, isn't it, how lax or lazy we can become in an environment we perceive as safe? Much like the university squirrels, I came home and forgot about the battle that rages around me. It's not that I stopped talking to the Father or lifting up friends, but I didn't do it in the voracious way I often did in China. I forgot to "clean" my rooms with Thoughts and actions. I walked into class thinking nothing of it, forgetting to ask Him for favor and protection. I became like the university squirrels... too lax to realize that there is real danger all around me. So I turn to the Father and ask, would you teach me, again, how to pr? How do I pr in this context, in this new life? He has the answers I'm looking for.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm...

"With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints..."

a short thought on discouragement

I just came home not long ago from a few years out of the country. I suppose the people who generally read this blog already know that. I just came home, and that means adjustment, re-culturation (is that the right word?), transitioning into life in America and away from the support system I've had and known. It means being back in the middle of family instead of a satellite member. It means many things.

Recently, I've had some troubles. My car hit a couple "bumps in the road," in the figurative sense. It was troubling given when the trouble happened and given the adreneline rush that followed. But when I told a friend, she remarked, "Welcome to car ownership!" I think I may have teared up at that point.

This weekend I had piles of reading to do, most of it for one class in particular. Then, a prof emailed on Friday announcing another ~70 pages of content that needed to be read for Monday. I lamented this fact, being a slow reader already. A different friend said, "Welcome to life as a student!"

Yesterday, I had to take a take-home quiz. It wasn't so bad... it was for a 101 class, so it should be pretty simple, and it was. I was thankful. But there was a section on the quiz that the prof hadn't covered in class. A whole section. In the grand scheme not a big deal, but for me who tends to stress if I don't know exactly the right answer, it was... well... stressful, if I may be a bit trite. Yet another friend said, "Welcome to grad school!"

I'd like to say for the record, "Welcome to [sth]" as a response to someone's troubles is not at all helpful. Not even a little bit. In these three cases, I actually found it hurtful. It's hard to adjust to these new things. Let me just admit it in cyberspace-- I'm having a hard time adjusting. (Now that everyone in the world can potentially know this, I'll move on.)

When a friend rejoices, we ought rejoice with him, yes? And when she weeps, we weep with her. I may not have been "weeping" in the literal sense, but I was having a particularly difficult time in those three instances, and instead of understanding or comfort what I got felt like a slap in the face. It probably was meant teasingly or to be funny or "to lighten the mood." It wasn't taken that way.

I guess since the 3 people who've said these things to me don't read this blog (that I know of!) I feel free to share. Maybe I oughtn't feel so free. But just a word to the wise: don't say things like "welcome to..." when someone's facing troubles. If you don't know what to say, it's best just to say nothing. At least that's the way I see it.

a bad day

I had a bad day today. It was one of those bad transition days that just keeps getting worse and worse until you want to cry or break stuff or yell; the kind of day that just makes you angry and frustrated. I was frustrated in part b/c I couldn't find my way around this new city. I keep getting turned around here, and roads that are at one moment going east are the next moment suddenly going north, and it's confusing. Everything's wind-y (read long /I/). I'm just trying to get from point X to point Y, and hopefully from point Y home to point A, but it never seems to work out that way, and I end up lost around R or G. I find myself in the car thinking "A ha! High Street! I know where that leads!" and then, I find I was wrong.

I keep hitting my head on the ceiling in my room. It's a peaked roofed house, and I live in the attic, and if you thought a short person like me could live anywhere, perhaps you hadn't thought about the attic of a peaked roofed house. My roommates are kind and fun to be around; the house is clean and simple; the pets are friendly. But the peaked roof sometimes gets to me, and today was one of those days. I just kept bumping my head on it, but every time I did I would grit my teeth or breathe deeply, trying not to get frustrated... or not get more frustrated anyway, but it wasn't working. The more frustrated I got, the more frustrated I was with myself for being frustrated, and, well, you can see where that cycle leads.

So I was sitting here in my room, organizing stuff, which I hate doing b/c I never know where to put anything, and feeling all around bad about my day. I was borderline muttering and definitely grumbling in my spirit about new cities and how poorly this state's roads are laid out compared to home and how much I miss China.

And then... it hit me...

Grumbling and being frustrated can become really selfish. Why didn't anyone tell me that before? Why was there no one that said to me:
"I know you've had a bad day, and I'm glad we could talk it out together. But I hope you'll keep your eyes on Dad and not on yourself. Remember that things like transition, grief, loneliness, and so on [must be a friend from China] can really draw your outlook in on yourself and away from Dad and others."
Maybe a better question would be, why have I never listened to Dad when He's told me that before?

I was so lost in myself and my own thoughts, hurt, anger, frustration, and so on, that I couldn't even hear Him. To be honest, I didn't want to hear Him. I was angry, and I sinned in my anger. How thankful I am to have a loving Dad who forgives and turns me back to the right path. *whew*

So I encourage you, the next time you're having a blue day, to find a friend and talk it out or do whatever you need to "process" your pent-up feelings, and then plead with the Father to turn that frustration and anger into energy that pr-s for others and seeks their good.

Then let me know how it goes... I'm new at this, too. ^_^

in response to a well received prodding

A friend of mine posted this on her blog the other day:
"I'm secretly hoping that by linking to her very outdated blog, my friend will get the hint that she needs to start blogging again."
She posted it on fb, too... so I've been willingly prodded back into blogging by a belovéd friend.

(and I thought no one was reading!)

***********
The other day, that same friend of mine and I were talking about health and China. What is it about Chinese people, she wondered. Well educated, intelligent, experienced though they may be, they still believe in these crazy 'old wives' tales' about health. Why is that?

A good question, for which I can only provide a partial answer.

What do you do when you get a stomach ache? What makes you feel better? For many Westerners, the answer is either a fizzy drink (e.g. Sprite, ginger ale, coke) or a bowl of broth. Chicken broth. (Or Campbell's chicken soup from a can.) Why? Is there some sort of healing quality in bubbles or broth? Some people claim that it's the syrup in coke that makes you feel better, but then why does ginger ale help?

My theory-- it's comforting b/c Mom told you it would be. Mom said, "here, have a Sprite. It will make your tummy feel better," and surprisingly enough, it did. Be it the sugar, the 'clear liquid' idea, the keeping hydrated... whatever it is, Mom said it would make you feel better, you believed her, and it worked. (Could it just be the placebo effect??)

Now take what sounds like an old wives' tale and apply the same principle. Here's a good one: after you give blood, you should not use the computer, listen to anything with headphones, or use your cell phone for at least 2 days. (It's something about radiation...) Some friends of mind in NE China told me that. They were sworn off all their forms of "indoor entertainment" by whoever it was that took their blood, and they took these things very seriously. Why? Because just like Mom, the doctor had told them that those things would make them feel worse. Best to just rest, don't read too much and strain your eyes, and drink some hot water. The rest and hot water made them feel better in part because they were told it would, and they believed what they were told.

Now let me add a new layer.

Many (not all) Chinese people seem to have many fears with regards to health. One of their greatest fears-- or at least one that I heard about most-- was to 着凉 zhao liang. The liang is this concept of "the cold" or "coldness", and zhao liang usually gets translated to catching "the cold" inside your body. (This, incidentally, explains why Chinese people love the English phrase "I caught a cold" b/c they think it means the same thing as zhao liang. Westerners mean a virus, Chinese mean the liang.) The liang is easy to catch-- don't drink enough hot water, eat too many 'cold foods' (like watermelon), don't wear enough clothing or a scarf around your neck, and you can catch the liang inside. Then, all sorts of problems can erupt.

Once you've zhao-ed the liang it's hard to tell what the symptoms will be. You could get cold or flu like symptoms, and those will induce the average Chinese person to make a dash to the hospital for an I.V. An I.V. is the way these things are treated in China. They're so common, a friend of mine once joked about going to the hospital in China like this:
"Why are you hear without an iv?"
"Well, I'm just visiting a friend..."
"It does not matter; you must have an iv..."
Why an I.V.? Because it's a quick fix. It makes you feel better, if not sometimes temporarily, and people are desperate to get better quickly. Why so desperate? Because in a country where you can be called "doctor" at a hospital after 4 years of undergraduate and where doctors are paid by all sorts of medicine companies to peddle their remedies, people are fearful that no one knows what they're doing. They're afraid that they could die from a cold or the flu, and that's possible in a place where TB is still endemic. And with some of them old enough to remember hospital experiences like those portrayed in To Live, their fear is unsurprising.

You see, while Westerners see a kid with a fever and give him Tylenol, or they get a backache and grab a couple Ibuprofen, Easterners, or at least Chinese, do not yet have the familiarity with over-the-counter drugs the West does. They don't trust doctors (with good reason, as you can read above), they don't trust medicine (usually herbal and not so useful in the dosages given), and they don't trust so-called "Western medicine" (pills like Tylenol and Ibuprofen), as Westerners are often seen as a bunch of pill-poppers (again, with good reason). BUT, with nothing left to trust, they are fearful. (Remember, they also don't have a Father watching over them, so there really is no one, in their minds, that can cure them.) So what do they do? They cling, tightly, to sometimes non-sensical old wives' tales about not using the computer while pregnant or about drinking hot water to cure acne because it's all they have, and it makes them feel better, even when it's not actually going to cure anything.

But to be honest, these days, I find there's something comforting in a cup of hot water...

Michelle Obama lets down the team

Well... I tried to re-start blogging, then found myself with nothing to say. So, the blog went dormant again. But yesterday I had a news-reading day, induced by the cold that's keeping me inside and resting rather than out w/ friends. And that gave me something to post... hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave your comments!


Recently I read this post on Michelle Obama letting down the team by choosing to be a mom (she calls herself mom-in-chief), rather than choosing to be another Nancy Reagan or Barbara Bush (who incidentally didn't have children at home). Just two thoughts I wanted to share.

(This assumes you've read the post or listened to the podcast.)
The first is, USA Today gave a list of tips for parents who want to help monitor and in some ways (good ways, we hope) control their children's media intake. I thought the list was good and helpful, but in the same breath as giving us these parenting tips that take _time_ and _energy_ to carry out, the media tells us that women should be working 40 hour weeks, not staying home to raise those little people that live in their houses. So that begs the question, who is going to watch the children and monitor their media intake if not the parents? And how are the parents going to have enough time to help their children develop discernment, avoid teenage pregnancy, develop a healthy view of sex and sexuality, understand what using drugs really does to a body, etc. if they are both working forty hour weeks _outside_ the home? Please understand, I believe a stay-at-home-mom works a 168-hour work week. They work hard. But if both parents are outside the home because the culture is pressuring them to be there, and both are coming home tired, and neither is home when the children come home from school (meaning the children are unsupervised for hours), who is going to take care of these kids?

Of course, in today's culture more ane more parents are raising their children alone, and that creates an entirely different dynamic. A single mom must work or she won't have children to raise because they will be given to someone else. A single father must have a job outside the home to provide for those for whome he's responsible. This is where the Body comes in. This is where we must be willing to express our own needs to one another as well as to reach out and help one another. As our media intake becomes more individualized, so do our lives. We go home after a day of building no relationships beyond talking about the weekend's big events in politics, entertainment and sports, and we watch television or surf the internet, trolling about for world news, sports statistics, pornography, podcasts, or whatever helps us feel connected to other people, since we have systematically stopped reaching out to other people when they are in front of us. We don't seek the help of our friends and family when we're in trouble, and we don't seek to help them, either. In fact, we often don't know when those around us are in trouble because we don't have deep enough relationships with them. America has been statistically shown to be _the most_ individualistic society on earth, and our individualism will be our downfall if we do not find a way to begin reconnecting with real people instead of playing spades and euchre on Yahoo! for hours each evening.

Number two was this: you quoted one feminist writer (was it Linda Hirshman?) as saying that staying at home raising children was no place for an intelligent, well-educated woman to be. I would just like to ask-- where do you think the intelligent and well-educated among us come from, both male and female? Do you think they spring up out of the ground or a well somewhere, and are immediately brilliant and ready to share that brilliance with the world? Unfortunately, they aren't. In fact, the "intelligent and well-educated" among us are generally those that have had their abilities fostered by postive role models-- real people that are in their lives, helping them to understand the world around them, see their own potential, and believe that they truly are capable of great things. It is rare for the children whose parents have always been too busy, have been discouraging, or have simply not taken the time to help them to truly succeed, even though all of America's "super teacher" movies (_Freedom Writers_, _October sky_, and _Dead Poets' Society_ for example) would have us believe otherwise. Children need their potential to be encouraged, fostered, and developed by the intelligent and well-educated among us. We say with one side of our mouths that to educate the next generation is the greatest responsibility a person can have, and out of the other side of our mouths we say that well-educated women shouldn't do that job by staying home with their children. It is beneath them. So I say to these women, which is it? Make a decision and stick with it, please. Do you want the next generation to be nurtured and their abilities developed by one of the people who perhaps love them most on this earth, their mothers, or do you want them left to fend for themselves while their mothers make the most of the short fifty good working years they have on this earth? Are we looking to fill the needs of this generation, or to teach each generation how to consistently keep their needs filled? Choose one, and stop telling women to do both, and then criticising them for making a choice.