Many of the students I meet with at UNC are, to put it bluntly, compulsive. They don't initially come across this way, but they say things like, "I love to be busy." "I hate to have too much down time." or the classic, "I don't know how it happens, I just seem to always end up with too much on my plate."
Our culture celebrates "doing" more than "being." "What do you do?" is the first question we often ask in get-to-know-you conversation. These students didn't get into college by sitting around meditating on the essence of life. They were rewarded for having impressive resumes, for being compulsive. They haven't learned how to be.
Of course, neither have I.
My first few days on vacation are always fitful. I'm generally tired, grumpy, taciturn, and having random conversations in my head with the person who had too many items in the express lane at Kroger a week ago. I'm trying to wind down, to settle down internally as I ease into vacation. But the gears are being stripped as I try to quiet my soul and I'm snippy about it.
In other words, I'm extremely pleasant to be married to.
So last week around Tuesday, the Lord was good to send me a little bug. I shan't go too deeply into details for the sake of the kids out there, but suffice to say that I spent plenty of time either on the john or in the bed. And the result was that I finally quieted down--body, mind, soul.
I hope that I can grow into "being" a little more naturally so that my g.i. track won't have to be the hand-brake of my soul. But as I come back off vacation, it's nice to know that I got a little bit of being in this summer. I pray that it makes me a deeper and wiser do-er as August approaches and the storm clouds of the traditional chaotic first month of classes begin to form.
6 comments:
This is so true, and it was one of the hardest things for me to adjust to being a mother pretty quickly out of college. You ARE really busy, but laundry, providing food, cleaning, organizing, etc. are not considered great accomplishments in our society and they aren't permanent either -- you go to sleep, get back up and do them again. My identity is so much more in who I am (Kate and Lexi's mom) than what I do (take care of them.)
It's been really rewarding to me to extrapolate that into the Christian life. It's more than what I do -- lead small group, serve on c-team, go on missions trips, whatever -- It's who I am, a daughter of the king.
g.i. tract as the "hand-brake of my soul" is such a great turn of a phrase. wow.
and let me say that my own hand-brake has been well used over the many years of my life. You know how sometimes when you're driving your car and for some reason it's not responding quite right and you realize it's because you left the hand-break on? Well, that's how I've lived many days, g.i. speaking.
Do you think that's pushing the metaphor too far?
great thoughts, ya'll. kristen, thanks for bringing the 'mom' perspective in, that's often overlooked.
macon, of course, you always manage to press it just a step or two too far...
Actually, I was just thinking that the metaphor continued to work on this level:
relief is wonderfully experienced when the break-lever is "released." Both when trying to drive, and in the g.i. universe.
I'm just sayin.
Sigh.
The GUPYs feel your pain--all too literally. The D.R. was rough on a lot of our crew!
I have experienced the forced-slow-down multiple times at Carolina (always a sinus infection! always! I hate them!)... tough, but good.
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