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The paradox of insular language
7 months ago
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
No Gas, huh?
So a few of us gals from GGR have the pleasure of living in Nashville, TN, which currently means, we have the pleasure of sitting in mile long lines getting yelled at by guys in monster trucks towing a jet ski as we wait for hours sometimes to get a few drops of gasoline, while the jerk with the giant truck, jet ski, and most likely a couple of gas cans politely hoards all the gas in the city. In case you didn't know, our city has created an artificial gas shortage. And here is a little video to lighten up the mood for all of you cranky Tennesseans who can't find gas. P.S. Pardon the language in the subtitles. But, it's Hitler, and he's pretty mad:
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Why I Volunteer
This evening, as I was sitting in sitting in traffic headed the complete opposite direction from home after a very long day at work, I simply wondered "why am I really doing this?"
"This" is going to meet up with a volunteer coordinator at Trevecca Health and Rehab Center, where I will be introduced to a client that I will begin to visit twice a month through the Greater Nashville Public Guardianship Program. I will check on this sweet woman, make sure she looks healthy, hasn't lost too much weight, and I will talk to her. I may even take her to bingo.
The question "why" is one that I have to ask myself, because honestly, I am way too busy. I know it, my friends know it, my husband knows it. I do too much. Full time job (sometimes more than full time), church activities and projects, meetings, social gatherings, weekend trips to see family, and so on. Type A doesn't come close to describing it. But tonight, I realized that despite all of that, I was truly looking forward to this experience. It was a breath of fresh air.
I do it because I need to be reminded, regularly, that I am not the center of the universe. I need this reminder to get through the week- it gives me perspective. I also do it because I can't seem to reconcile reading scripture, praying, going to church, and trying to live a life that is patterned after Christ, without being in the presence of "the least of these" once in a while . I can't not touch them, not talk to them, not hear them, not get into their world. And if my motives sound selfish, I must admit that they are. But I know that no matter what, my actions are in some way tipping the scales of this world toward the good, even if just for a moment. And that is why I volunteer. How could I not?
"This" is going to meet up with a volunteer coordinator at Trevecca Health and Rehab Center, where I will be introduced to a client that I will begin to visit twice a month through the Greater Nashville Public Guardianship Program. I will check on this sweet woman, make sure she looks healthy, hasn't lost too much weight, and I will talk to her. I may even take her to bingo.
The question "why" is one that I have to ask myself, because honestly, I am way too busy. I know it, my friends know it, my husband knows it. I do too much. Full time job (sometimes more than full time), church activities and projects, meetings, social gatherings, weekend trips to see family, and so on. Type A doesn't come close to describing it. But tonight, I realized that despite all of that, I was truly looking forward to this experience. It was a breath of fresh air.
I do it because I need to be reminded, regularly, that I am not the center of the universe. I need this reminder to get through the week- it gives me perspective. I also do it because I can't seem to reconcile reading scripture, praying, going to church, and trying to live a life that is patterned after Christ, without being in the presence of "the least of these" once in a while . I can't not touch them, not talk to them, not hear them, not get into their world. And if my motives sound selfish, I must admit that they are. But I know that no matter what, my actions are in some way tipping the scales of this world toward the good, even if just for a moment. And that is why I volunteer. How could I not?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Lessons learned with lots of food and a brush with the law...
...A typical weekend with family :) Well, maybe not the brush with the law part! I ventured up to Indiana for a little extended weekend with family, and I didn't expect to really gain as much as I did from my short time there. While my family is generally pretty close, we don't always get too deep with the issues in our lives, and sometimes it causes a bit of tension during our little reunions. I'll admit, a lot of this is instigated by me, because I tend to be a bit more vocal with my opinions. Anyways, as I neared the exit to my parents' home, I just said a quick little prayer, "Lord, let there be peace!"
The time turned out to be wonderful. I arrived first, followed by my niece, my brother, my sister, and then a couple of aunts, an uncle, and a cousin. So, without making this entry a 12 chapter novel, I'll point out the highlights:
1. Spending time with my aunt Leilani (my mom's younger sister) was precious. I don't see extended family a lot, and I haven't seen my aunt since my uncle's funeral (My uncle passed away this past winter from Lou Gehrig's Disease). She walked with uncle Don for so many grueling months, watching him become less and less stable. She was so strong through all of it, even after his death. I got some quality time with Leilani, and it was so encouraging to see her laughing again and enjoying her time with family. I think through all of this, she has really learned how precious our time on this earth is. I learned a lot, just by her example, about being strong and really picking yourself back up after enduring such a horrendous season of life.
2. Well, my mom's side of the family is Hawaiian and when the Hawaiians come into town, they come with an endless variety of marinated meats, starchy fatty side dishes, treats from Hawaii and a lot of laughs. Spending time in the kitchen with my aunts, my mom, and my sister was so special. I learned why my fried rice never tasted quite like Grandma's. I learned that my relationship with my sister is very similar to my mom and aunt's relationship. I learned the meaning of "Soulfood"--there's something really great about spending time in the kitchen with generations of family, reminiscing about past experience, sharing about life.
3. Well, my dear friend, and fellow contributor to this blog, Anna, came to hang out on her way back up to Chicago. We had a wonderful time catching up. And, we almost got arrested. So, the house next door is vacant and for sale, so over the weekend, we discovered a back door was open, and my aunts, my sister, my mom and I all decided to take a quick little tour of the home. Now, I realize this is pretty much wrong on all levels, but we just wanted to take a look and see what this amazing house looked like on the inside. Well, after telling Anna the story, I thought I'd take her over for a look that morning. As I opened the door, the alarm went off, and a picture of my father's red scary dad face immediately flashed through my mind, as I sheepishly walked back to our house and quickly debate whether or not to say anything. We did tell my parents, and I instantly felt like the little kid who just got into a world of trouble. I really thought my dad was going to pull out his old fraternity paddle and start whacking away at my behind. As the police rolled up, Anna and I laughed nervously, wondering if we'd go to jail, as my father pierced his silent, but deadly glare in my direction. "I'll be right back. Do not go outside."
I don't know what he said exactly, though I would suspect it was something to the affect of , "My dumb kid decided to peek in the house. She's age 7 and mentally challenged," Maybe he didn't say all that, but whatever he did say worked. He came back in, and we all sat down and stuffed our faces with bisquits and gravy. Anna and I didn't go to jail. My dad saved the day, and our records aren't marred after all. I think we'll laugh about this one day.
All in all it was a really great weekend. I'm thankful for family and amazing friends, and for not being a convicted felon.
L.G.
The time turned out to be wonderful. I arrived first, followed by my niece, my brother, my sister, and then a couple of aunts, an uncle, and a cousin. So, without making this entry a 12 chapter novel, I'll point out the highlights:
1. Spending time with my aunt Leilani (my mom's younger sister) was precious. I don't see extended family a lot, and I haven't seen my aunt since my uncle's funeral (My uncle passed away this past winter from Lou Gehrig's Disease). She walked with uncle Don for so many grueling months, watching him become less and less stable. She was so strong through all of it, even after his death. I got some quality time with Leilani, and it was so encouraging to see her laughing again and enjoying her time with family. I think through all of this, she has really learned how precious our time on this earth is. I learned a lot, just by her example, about being strong and really picking yourself back up after enduring such a horrendous season of life.
2. Well, my mom's side of the family is Hawaiian and when the Hawaiians come into town, they come with an endless variety of marinated meats, starchy fatty side dishes, treats from Hawaii and a lot of laughs. Spending time in the kitchen with my aunts, my mom, and my sister was so special. I learned why my fried rice never tasted quite like Grandma's. I learned that my relationship with my sister is very similar to my mom and aunt's relationship. I learned the meaning of "Soulfood"--there's something really great about spending time in the kitchen with generations of family, reminiscing about past experience, sharing about life.
3. Well, my dear friend, and fellow contributor to this blog, Anna, came to hang out on her way back up to Chicago. We had a wonderful time catching up. And, we almost got arrested. So, the house next door is vacant and for sale, so over the weekend, we discovered a back door was open, and my aunts, my sister, my mom and I all decided to take a quick little tour of the home. Now, I realize this is pretty much wrong on all levels, but we just wanted to take a look and see what this amazing house looked like on the inside. Well, after telling Anna the story, I thought I'd take her over for a look that morning. As I opened the door, the alarm went off, and a picture of my father's red scary dad face immediately flashed through my mind, as I sheepishly walked back to our house and quickly debate whether or not to say anything. We did tell my parents, and I instantly felt like the little kid who just got into a world of trouble. I really thought my dad was going to pull out his old fraternity paddle and start whacking away at my behind. As the police rolled up, Anna and I laughed nervously, wondering if we'd go to jail, as my father pierced his silent, but deadly glare in my direction. "I'll be right back. Do not go outside."
I don't know what he said exactly, though I would suspect it was something to the affect of , "My dumb kid decided to peek in the house. She's age 7 and mentally challenged," Maybe he didn't say all that, but whatever he did say worked. He came back in, and we all sat down and stuffed our faces with bisquits and gravy. Anna and I didn't go to jail. My dad saved the day, and our records aren't marred after all. I think we'll laugh about this one day.
All in all it was a really great weekend. I'm thankful for family and amazing friends, and for not being a convicted felon.
L.G.
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