Dear My Long Lost Friend, Spring,
How are you this year? It's been AGES since I've seen you. I kind of forget what you look like! I mean, do you come with sunshine and a little bit of rain? Is there lots of green and growing things? Will I be able to take off my long underwear and winter coat when you get here? Will I be able to open the windows in my apartment without catching my death of a cold? Will I be able to enjoy walking to school with you again? I need you to hurry up and get here so that I can have these questions answered. Please don't keep me wondering and wondering. I can't sleep because I keep thinking about how great it will be when you get here.
I'm really not trying to rush you or anything.
Actually, I am trying to rush you. I've been dealing with your cousin, Winter, for far too long, and frankly, he's not that nice. I don't really like him. He has a bad temper, is bitter, and is making me miserable. I don't want to live with him anymore. Please don't make me. He's not that bad when he lets me have some big, beautiful snowflakes, but he really isn't all that generous, so I didn't get to enjoy them very much while he's been here.
Also, he won't stay outside where he belongs. He keeps coming inside and making everything all cold and miserable like he owns the place. What is that? Can't he learn better manners? I'm not one to complain (clearly that's not true, but work with me), but Winter is overstaying his welcome. Let me just lay out my complaints against him for you, my dear Spring, to see:
1. He left my feet with signs of frostbite
2. He makes me wear at least 4 layers of clothing everyday.
3. I have to re-wear socks several days in a row (to much info??) because I HAVEto wear wool socks everyday.
4. He kept me sick for, oh... 4 months?
5. He made me want to move to Darwin where it's constantly hot. I mean, I've never heard anything about Darwin other than the fact that its hot and yet, I couldn't get it off my mind.
6. I had to hold a mug of hot water constantly in order to maintain feeling in my fingers while at school.
7. I didn't get to show off my cute sweaters to anyone because I was constantly wearing a huge coat.
8. I had to bake banana bread and brownies all the time to stay warm. (This doesn't seem like a complaint, does it? Please refer to #9)
9. I had to run on a treadmill in order to not get fat from eating banana bread and brownies.
10. I can't really think of another good complaint, but a list of 10 is so much better than a list of 9. Don't you think?
Surely you agree, this can't go on any longer. Won't you please come and save me? Challenge him to a duel. Kick is icy butt! I promise I'll be good. I won't complain about the rain you bring or about chilly mornings. I'll be happy and thankful, like a good girl! Really, I will! Cross my heart.
Just one more thing. Just a little question. A tiny one. No big deal. Aren't you late? I mean, I could have sworn you were supposed to be here already. I don't think I have a perfect memory, though some of my friends would say I do, (Name that movie!) but I seem to recall that the end of March is your time to visit. The calendar says so. Don't shoot the messenger, the calendar told me to tell you. So yea, where are you?
Hopefully you receive this correspondence promptly and can rectify the situation. I'd be most obliged to have you here and for you to send Winter packing.
Your ever faithful and somewhat impatient friend,
Emily
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Relating to a basically ominpresent internet, and an actually omnipresent God
Emily writes well, doesn't she? It makes being her co-blogger an intimidating prospect and I've been having trouble thinking of things worth sharing via that prestigious medium, the internet. However, writing that sentence has just given me an idea for a blog post (see the blog post's title). Huzzah!
In the previous weeks I have spent desk warming, my apparent sweet release from boredom and inertia has been that triumph of the human spirit, the internet. Where capitalism reigns in equal measure with socialism, so much money and so much freely shared. I cannot fathom the technological advances that have brought us to this place. I have a free period at school. What should I do? What would I like to see? What would I like to know? The internet is basically limitless in promises. I can look up pretty much any subject of history of science or politics or geography or grammar (useful as an English teacher) I want, without moving 90% of my body. I can cross check one source with another. If these immediately accessible sources aren't satisfying my scholarly standards, I can type in my credit card and have instant access to peer reviewed online journals. Humanity's collective knowledge is available to me at the expense of abstract credit card money that I've never seen and doesn't really belong to me, and however many calories it takes to type and think. This surely is remarkable.
But my eyes are lower than the far reaches of humanity's collective knowledge. Or are they perhaps higher? What of art? Music? Beauty? I can go on www.youtube.com and listen to pretty much anything that anyone has ever called a song and anyone else has enjoyed enough to put on the internet. I can look at any painting famous enough to justify looking at, and I can often zoom in so close that I can see the individual hair strokes in the individual brush strokes, an option not possible at most galleries and museums, which wisely wish to prevent my moist breath breathed on that which should instead be breathtaking. But on the internet I will surely miss out on the beauty of collections won't I? I can't see an entire exhibit, I can't go from one painting to the next, so thoughtfully laid out by a passionate and instinctive curator who has made this type of thing their life's work. Or can I? Check this out, it is amazing. www.googleartproject.com. World famous galleries I can virtually walk around in.
But I confess, my eyes are still lower than the higher arts, but surely my time is no less wasted for that. While I don't spend my time listening to and viewing the much heralded genius of Mozart or Monet, I still pay attention to genius. I still see artists at work. I can watch any cricket game good enough to be broadcast in India, which currently includes the World Cup, the greatest of all cricketing events. I need only search "cricket live streaming" and I can watch the graceful art of Tendulkar or the beautiful grit of Kallis. Admittedly, the time zone difference hasn't been generous to me in this regard, but I can still read a ball by ball description of 6 hours worth of play the very next day.
But I confess, my eyes are still lower than that. I wish I could justify the five minutes I spend on Facebook as a reflection of my love for people, but when that five minutes is repeated 6 times over the period of a day and I have barely related to anyone aside from reading their status updates, it's difficult to fool myself.
The internet is revealing to me that my eyes are aimed too low to appreciate the enormity of humanity's knowledge, too low to appreciate the staggering genius of our art, too low even to properly and fully appreciate the people who hold so much of my heart.
This is not a criticism of the internet, just the too often low standards of my heart.
And if I don't take the time to relate to people, observe genius or find out some of the vastness of humanity's knowledge, what hope do I have of ever seeking the God Most High, whose wisdom, knowledge, genius and love we have collectively barely noted, and never measured. The God who is the good giver of our knowledge and genius and passion and relationships.
As I said, this is not a criticism of the internet. But it is a hopeful, tentative, nervous resolve about the internet. I will seek to use it as something that helps me raise my eyes higher than they have ever been raised. As something that will help me seek and know Him who made me and loves me. I say hopeful, tentative and nervous because I know, and you now know, that my heart is easily satisfied. Fortunately, God promises to do something about that.
"I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh." Ezekiel 11:19.
(I wasn't exactly sure where that verse was, so I checked on www.biblegateway.com.)
In the previous weeks I have spent desk warming, my apparent sweet release from boredom and inertia has been that triumph of the human spirit, the internet. Where capitalism reigns in equal measure with socialism, so much money and so much freely shared. I cannot fathom the technological advances that have brought us to this place. I have a free period at school. What should I do? What would I like to see? What would I like to know? The internet is basically limitless in promises. I can look up pretty much any subject of history of science or politics or geography or grammar (useful as an English teacher) I want, without moving 90% of my body. I can cross check one source with another. If these immediately accessible sources aren't satisfying my scholarly standards, I can type in my credit card and have instant access to peer reviewed online journals. Humanity's collective knowledge is available to me at the expense of abstract credit card money that I've never seen and doesn't really belong to me, and however many calories it takes to type and think. This surely is remarkable.
But my eyes are lower than the far reaches of humanity's collective knowledge. Or are they perhaps higher? What of art? Music? Beauty? I can go on www.youtube.com and listen to pretty much anything that anyone has ever called a song and anyone else has enjoyed enough to put on the internet. I can look at any painting famous enough to justify looking at, and I can often zoom in so close that I can see the individual hair strokes in the individual brush strokes, an option not possible at most galleries and museums, which wisely wish to prevent my moist breath breathed on that which should instead be breathtaking. But on the internet I will surely miss out on the beauty of collections won't I? I can't see an entire exhibit, I can't go from one painting to the next, so thoughtfully laid out by a passionate and instinctive curator who has made this type of thing their life's work. Or can I? Check this out, it is amazing. www.googleartproject.com. World famous galleries I can virtually walk around in.
But I confess, my eyes are still lower than the higher arts, but surely my time is no less wasted for that. While I don't spend my time listening to and viewing the much heralded genius of Mozart or Monet, I still pay attention to genius. I still see artists at work. I can watch any cricket game good enough to be broadcast in India, which currently includes the World Cup, the greatest of all cricketing events. I need only search "cricket live streaming" and I can watch the graceful art of Tendulkar or the beautiful grit of Kallis. Admittedly, the time zone difference hasn't been generous to me in this regard, but I can still read a ball by ball description of 6 hours worth of play the very next day.
But I confess, my eyes are still lower than that. I wish I could justify the five minutes I spend on Facebook as a reflection of my love for people, but when that five minutes is repeated 6 times over the period of a day and I have barely related to anyone aside from reading their status updates, it's difficult to fool myself.
The internet is revealing to me that my eyes are aimed too low to appreciate the enormity of humanity's knowledge, too low to appreciate the staggering genius of our art, too low even to properly and fully appreciate the people who hold so much of my heart.
This is not a criticism of the internet, just the too often low standards of my heart.
And if I don't take the time to relate to people, observe genius or find out some of the vastness of humanity's knowledge, what hope do I have of ever seeking the God Most High, whose wisdom, knowledge, genius and love we have collectively barely noted, and never measured. The God who is the good giver of our knowledge and genius and passion and relationships.
As I said, this is not a criticism of the internet. But it is a hopeful, tentative, nervous resolve about the internet. I will seek to use it as something that helps me raise my eyes higher than they have ever been raised. As something that will help me seek and know Him who made me and loves me. I say hopeful, tentative and nervous because I know, and you now know, that my heart is easily satisfied. Fortunately, God promises to do something about that.
"I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh." Ezekiel 11:19.
(I wasn't exactly sure where that verse was, so I checked on www.biblegateway.com.)
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