Tag Archives: Learning

All Or Nothing

I’m taking a little break from work (working on my mythology). I need to let it sit for a few minutes. Last week I finished one of the longer stories in the collection, and I was a bit stuck on where to go from there. Right now I’m trying to finish up a story I put on hold a while ago instead of starting completely new material.

I procrastinated for quite a while today because it was so nice out. That’s the beautiful thing about being a writer. I also just wanted to talk things over with God, though. We had a really good conversation, actually. As we were talking I realized something. When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was “different.” I didn’t want to be like all the other kids. It wasn’t as simple as that, though. I wanted to be a rebel. I was, in thought if not in action, anti-establishment, and firmly against anything that was popular, whether it was policy or pop music.

While we were talking, though, I realized something. Anti-establishment and against-what-is-popular is normal now. I still want to be different, and I realized that being outwardly Christian and proud of it makes me different. I was never good at the different I thought I wanted to be, but the different that I know I really am; the different that I strive to be is a different that I love. The different I thought I wanted was about making noise and breaking rules. The different I really want and the different that I am is about love. It’s as simple as that.

I watched a talk by a priest named Father Mike (I forget how to spell his last name) about when Jesus says to take on his yoke and learn from him. Basically what that means is that we have to walk beside him and learn to imitate him. We have to learn to see people like he sees them, and we have to learn how to act so that people see him when they see us.

Being like him–being different–has always seemed like a huge responsibility to me, and at times, it seems impossible. In particular, telling people about him and about his Kingdom has always seemed to be a very difficult and intimidating task because to a lot of people it sounds at least crazy, if not offensive. I’ve read a lot of advice about how to pray effectively, and everything says to listen. I’m usually not good at this, but today was different.

I asked a question. “Were you ever afraid to say what you had to say while you were here on Earth?”

I waited for a moment, but the answer came pretty quickly. He said, “Of course I was afraid. I had to defend something that sounded crazy and blasphemous to a lot of people, and I knew I was going to get killed for it. I am God, but I’m also a regular person. You’ve read about how scared I was the night before I died. What you feel is normal and okay.”

Of course his fear was different than my fear. A large part of my fear is simply not wanting to be thought of as a weirdo. The truth is, though, that I’ve gone too far to turn back now. This is the different that I want, and I can’t just stay where I am. With Jesus, it’s all or  nothing.

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The Language Of Love

Words are very powerful. They can change our entire outlook on life. They can inspire us. They can make us feel good. They can change the world. Words spoken with authority make things happen. Words spoken with love can make you fall apart. Words can move us even if we don’t understand them initially. Still, sometimes words cannot express the beauty or tragedy of certain situations or artistic expressions.

I spent four years of my life essentially studying words. I learned how to write poetry and stories. I learned about the difference between heard and read language, and its emotional impacts, as well as its artistic value. I learned that words really can make someone immortal. I discovered my love for Seamus Heaney the year he died. His poetry is perfectly put together, even when its subject matter is ugly. It isn’t always fluid, but even when it seems stylistically cold or even rude, there’s some kind of life in it. I still find it beautiful.

I’ve been trying to make sure I work on my novel every day now, and I’m getting a lot done. I like what I’ve been coming up with, both in terms of where the plot is going, and in terms of style. There are parts of my novel that are intentionally very technical. Admittedly, I like sounding smart, but these very technical explanations are also simply necessary for the potential audience to understand what’s going on in the world and how things like psychic abilities work. I’m very grateful for what I learned at school, through practice, and for all the great writer’s I’ve been introduced to. Not all of them are well known. These include fantasy writers, movie script writers, and songwriters, as well as some of the “greats” I was exposed to at school. As a science-fiction writer, some of my greatest influences have been amazing, underrated movies.

As a songwriter, poet and composer, I’ve also come to realize that sometimes words have the most meaning in their absence. In my latest musical composition, there’s a lot of silence, but it’s certainly not dead space. The meaning is in the silences. Truthfully I haven’t thought a whole lot about it, but I think it’s evocative of the idea that we don’t realize how much value something has until it’s gone. The leading part of it is the violin. There is a part of this piece that is meant to be uncomfortable. All other instruments cut out and the violin part seems almost faulty, like a flickering light that could go out at any moment. The point is that the light doesn’t go out. The piece is called “Love For You.” True love doesn’t die. True love is immortal.

Over the past year I read the Bible cover to cover. From an artistic standpoint, it’s not pretty. From an artistic standpoint, it seems downright chaotic. If one were to put it into musical terms, it might turn out to be something like free form Jazz with lots of augmented and diminished chords. It would probably sound rather jarring. This is according to a strictly aesthetic reading. Christians believe that the Bible is the Word of God. This is particularly important for someone who calls herself an artist and a writer. Quite frankly, I can’t stand Jazz, particularly free form. I don’t read the Bible from a strictly aesthetic standpoint. If I do, it sounds like free form Jazz. However, the Word of God isn’t simply what’s written in a book.

A lot of things about God, and quite frankly, about life in general are paradoxical. For one thing, spirituality is both objective and subjective. It is an individual striving for objective Truth and Beauty. In a Christian context, we believe that Jesus is alive and that he is the Word of God, and we believe that the Bible is the Word of God. We also believe in the Holy Spirit who works in us individually and collectively. God is one nature in three people: Father, Son, and Spirit. The Church is the body of Christ, so ideally, it’s one nature in a heck of a lot of people.

What does all this mean for an artist, particularly one whose main medium of artistic expression is written word? What does it mean in a broader context? Language matters. There’s no way around it. We can’t relate to the world outside of language. We can’t really even think outside of language. I’ve noticed that Saint Paul emphasizes the impact our use of language has when relating to other people. We’re meant to speak wisely and not offensively. At the same time, we’re meant to relate to other people in order to teach by example who Jesus is. This presents an odd dilemma when it comes to writing my novel. Most of my language when I speak is pretty mild, depending on who I’m with. I hardly ever swear, and when I do, it’s because I’m making a joke and I know the person I’m with will find it funny. On the other hand, some of my characters have very dirty mouths.

In some ways I find myself in my characters. It’s probably impossible not to. In fact, I initially intended to model Kithryd, my first character, very much after myself. However, I think she had absolutely no intention of being me. At some point, probably even earlier than I could identify, she took on her own identity. She’s very assertive and vocally bitter about things, but she is like me in that she’s introverted. I find myself more in another character I had not even entirely intended to create. Iris has a great love for her friends and her little brother, and she greatly desires to work for the greater good. However, she deals with a lot of mental illness, which simply isn’t a problem for me. I find myself least in Tabby. Tabby has no real love for the world as it is, but does keep the greater good in mind. However, she’s a generally angry, pessimistic person. She’s also very impulsive and does not care who she offends. For some reason I find her to be one of the easiest characters to write.

I created Tabby. I created an angry, offensive woman. She came from me somehow. She is somehow part of my soul. All of my characters, in one way or another, represent some part of my soul. They’ve all lost someone or something very important to them. They’ve all been shunned for one reason or another. Some of them are angry. Some of them are scared. Some of them, like Aven, are peaceful and unafraid. My novel as a whole presents the world as a dark, scary, Godless place. I don’t view the world in this way, but I know a lot of people do. I’m writing this for a few different reasons. I’m writing because I can and because my parents told me to. I’m also writing because I think God wants me to, though why he wants me to write this particular novel I don’t know. “Why” isn’t a question he often answers. In some ways it’s a thought experiment.

I don’t know if we become our words or our words become us. Maybe it’s both. The same could be said for any art form. Jesus is the Word of God in the most literal sense. This means a lot. For the record, I’m stealing several of my next points from Bishop Robert Barron because he’s smarter than me. Jesus is alive. In other words, he is active in the world. What does it mean for the Word to be active? It means he is causal. He is authoritative. He’s making stuff happen. Two points that Bishop Barron brings up are that God’s Word is active by nature. God creates simply by speaking things into being. He also emphasizes the opening lines of John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” This means that whatever Jesus does and says is necessarily true in an active sense.

Words, like music are significant and often causal in their absence. The absence evokes ideas and emotions. In fact, we can’t have language without the absence of words. The Word of God is living language. It is the Language of love. What is significant about this is that a language can only be “alive” if it is shared, i.e. spoken among living people. Jesus said that after he went up into heaven he would send his Spirit. Bishop Barron suggests that the best way to understand the Holy Spirit is that it is the love of God, both between the Father and the Son, and between God and humans. This love can never die because it is shared in the Trinity. We don’t have to participate for this language to live. Jesus allows us to participate when he introduces the Eucharist. John 6:56 says, “If you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you are one with me and I am one with you.”

Just before this, he talks about how one has to eat his flesh and drink his blood to have eternal life. God is eternal and infinite. Jesus is God. If we share in the Eucharist we are one with him. We become one with him in the way that a family can be seen as a single unit, for example. If we are one with him, we have eternal life. If Jesus is the Word of God, i.e. the Language of Love, then by extension, the Eucharist is the Language of Love. I said that words can make a person immortal. The words of Shakespeare endure to this day. The difference is that Shakespeare’s words are not truly “alive” in the sense that they do anything other than entertain and perhaps inspire good writing. However, Jesus invites us to speak his language.

Language is not simply expressed in what we say or what we write. Ideas are conveyed through body language and actions. A principal I learned at school is that in good writing, less is often more. In order to convey an idea, we should show, not tell what a character is feeling or what’s going on in a particular situation. We know that certain facial expressions, for example, can be understood and translated into actual words, but they are not needed. Love is like this. A feeling or a spiritual prompting turns into an art piece or an act of charity. Love has no reason. It just is. Because of its nature it cannot simply be expressed in words. Love in words alone is empty. It isn’t love at all. True love entails action, and on some level, it always entails sacrifice. To truly love someone one must give one’s self to the other. This always means different things to different people at different times. John 15:13 says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

Jesus is referring to his very literal sacrifice of love for all of us. However, because God’s Word is eternal, he is also telling us what we must do as his friends for the rest of humanity. Love entails some kind of sacrifice. Maybe it means sacrificing some comfort. Maybe it means sacrificing some excess money. Maybe it means sacrificing time we could be spending having fun. Maybe it means sacrificing our pride. As I said, it means something different for every person.

Love and life are synonymous. Without love, life is not worth living. The fact of the matter is that everyone is loved, and this is why it’s so important that people know Jesus. It’s not about where we end up when we die. It’s not about judgment. It’s not about religion or where we’re supposed to be on Sunday morning. That stuff is secondary. It’s about knowing that we are loved. When Pope Francis was visiting the U.S. a little kid asked him, “What did God do before he created the world?” He answered, “Before God created anything, he loved.” God created the world because he loved the world. He created each of us because he loved us first. That’s the message Jesus wants us to tell the whole world. That is the most important thing in the Christian faith. Without love, nothing else matters.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Random Life Update

The past few weeks have been interesting. I recently met two pen pals (email buddies), both by the name of Jonathan. They’re rather different in terms of personality, but they’re both very nice. I also started working on my novel again yesterday. I’ve been lazy over the summer, and I don’t entirely regret it, but it’s time to get back to work. I have excellent plans for my story, and it’ll be good to get that moving. It’s just been hard with friends and family taking up so much of my time. Everyone is starting to go back to school and work, though, which means I’ll be able to as well. It’s been good, though. I like my humans. Lastly, I’ve made the decision to learn how to play violin. I’ve had songwriter’s block, and I think learning a new instrument will help with that.

I tried learning a few years ago, but I didn’t have the time to practice at that point. Now I should have plenty of time. I’m excited because it will be hard. I’m excited to take on a challenge. I’m going to buy the instrument soon, and I’m going to ask for a month of lessons for Christmas. I like trying to teach myself things, but I do think I’ll need some instruction in this case. My family is going to kill me. I’m going to be so annoying for a while. While it’s nice out I might practice outside and annoy the neighbors instead. I think a good place to start will be to pick some songs that have simple melodies and try learning those on my own, then when I start lessons I can get more into real technique.

I’ll be starting CCD again soon. I hope I get my little cousin’s class. I’ll call on him all the time. It’ll be great. I’ll also be starting my writer’s workshop this month. They meet once a month in Newton, which is about an hour away for me. It’ll be a lot of fun, though. Speaking of which, I accidentally made a friend the other day. We happened to have gone to the same high school, happened to have graduated the same year, and happen to both be writing fantasy/science fiction stories. Funny how that stuff works.

I spent this past weekend job hunting. I didn’t really get anywhere, so I’m going to put that on hold. Working on a novel is just a horrifyingly huge task, but I need stick with it. It took two years to complete my album. I feel like that was a different kind of project, though. At least I’m not investing huge amounts of money into writing a story. The album wasn’t exactly a huge success. Surprisingly, I don’t care. Over time I’ve realized that I’m not really cut out for the music business. When I was a kid I wanted to be a rock star. I guess my dream has changed. My dream now is just to make love in the world. It’s a much less concrete goal, to be sure, but it’s also an adventure. I’m excited for the coming year. Beyond that, I have no idea what the future will bring. Normally that would scare me, but at the moment, it’s exciting.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Prayer Advice From A Total Newb

I’ve been trying to pray more. I’m bad at praying. Last night my friend asked me, “Isn’t praying the same as just talking to God?” Maybe it is and I’ve been doing it wrong, but from my experience, it seems like it’s somehow spiritually and mentally different. I’m not sure how to explain it. It involves getting very close to God, and that’s intimidating. Something I have discovered that’s helped a lot, though, is that prayer starts with humility. If you realize and acknowledge how tiny you are, it becomes easier. In a way, though it is just like “talking to God,” because you have to work through exactly what it is you need. I’ve also discovered that begging doesn’t seem to work–for me at least. I’m not sure why. Generally, I think it’s because God wants me to get somewhere or discover something before he’ll give me whatever it is what I’m asking for. On the other hand, there have been occasions where I’ve just stopped and said, “Hey, listen, this is important to me. Think you could help me out?” and whatever it is will be given.

Despite the fact that I feel I’m rather awkward about it, prayer works for me. I was talking to a kid I mentored about it the other day, and he said that part of the reason he doesn’t believe in the Christian God is because prayer hadn’t worked for him. He asked me if it did work for me, and I told him that I wouldn’t have got through college if it hadn’t been for God answering my prayers. I firmly believe that he’s helped me out with everything from emotional issues to tough classes.

Something else I’ve learned is that you can’t just idly wait for God to answer prayers. A lot of times the answer to a prayer involves you doing something. A lot of time it means trying everything under the sun, and allowing God to push you in the right direction. Sometimes prayers are a little something like this: “God, I’m afraid to do X or Y, so drive me up a wall until I can’t stand it any more and just do it.” That’s worked for me before.

Ultimately, there’s no “standard” or “correct” way to pray. Different things work at different times for different reasons. I don’t always feel sincere when I recite prayers (like the Our Father or the Fatima Prayer), but sometimes I do. On the other hand, a lot of people find it a lot easier to pray if they don’t have to search for the words. Sometimes things you wouldn’t even think of are a kind of prayer, like simply being with someone, and loving them so hard it hurts. The most important thing is sincerity. Mean what you say. Don’t just pray because you’re supposed to. Pray because you want to; because you need to. Remember the good in this world. Remember the good in your life. Remember that God loves you and loves the world, and acknowledge those things because they’re important.

Like I said, I’m not very good at prayer. I feel like I could be a million times better, but the point is that God listens. It doesn’t matter how eloquent or knowledgeable you are. What matters is that you’re making an effort to communicate with the God of the Universe in a meaningful way. In effect, you’re  saying “I have no idea where I’m going. You drive.”

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Where I Never Thought I’d Be

Today I got an email about graduation, and if you had told me nearly four years ago that it would make me feel nostalgic, I would have laughed in your face. The fact of the matter is, I guess I am going to miss Gordon a little. Maybe it’s because I don’t really know what the next step is; maybe it’s because this really is the end of school for me (though definitely not the end of learning); maybe I’m going to really miss some of the friends I’ve made (mostly professors); maybe I’m just getting older and I’m starting to realize that I’m really not a kid anymore.

Earlier today I was thinking about marriage. It occurred to me that I literally had no idea what the point of bridesmaids was, so I had to ask my mom–apparently their purpose is to stand there and look pretty. I’m a girl. I can’t help it. I sometimes think about getting married, despite the fact that I don’t, and never have had a boyfriend. I was just fantasizing on the way to class about who I would pick to be my maid of honor. My immediate inclination was to pick my best friend, but then I thought of my cousins, and it might be a little weird not to pick one of them. Again, I have no idea why I was thinking about this.

Last night I had a dream that I was in the English Army, and we were invading France, except for some reason we had to traverse mountains instead of the English Channel to get there. They were also not normal mountains, but Minecraft mountains, which I find really odd because I was not playing Minecraft last night. In fact, I haven’t played Minecraft very recently. Anyway, I got separated from the group I was with and captured. Then I got sent to a correctional facility for the mentally unstable, even though I’m quite ordinary, thank you very much! I spent quite a while trying to escape, and I was finally helped by the son of one of the people who ran the place. Then my mom and aunt and little cousin came and got me. It seems like I’ve spent a lot of time in dreams lately as the damsel in distress. I’m not sure why that is, and I’m not sure I like it. I have no interest in being someone’s damsel in distress in real life. Actually, I’ve spent an obnoxious amount of time fantasizing about being the hero of this story. Realistically, I guess I’ll probably end up being a little bit of both.

At the end of every semester at school, up until probably last semester, I found myself saying “maybe next semester,” meaning maybe someone will ask me out, or maybe I’ll become friends with someone and eventually ask them out. I guess I gave up on finding someone at school. The email I got turned out not to be very relevant to me. One of the things the sender was asking for was pictures from all four years we (the seniors) have been there. I literally don’t have any Gordon College pictures. The second thing was ideas about a class gift: something the seniors would put together to donate to the school. I guess I don’t really care what we donate. The third thing was that they were looking for 12 volunteers to speak at either the baccalaureate ceremony or senior breakfast. I guess I don’t have a whole lot I’d want to say.

I actually had an awesome experience at Gordon. I learned a lot, I read a lot, and I changed a lot. My classes were great, and like I said, I made some really good friends. Gordon just wasn’t home for me. Gordon was school, and to some degree, Gordon was church. I didn’t share a dorm with someone, so there wasn’t a strange girl who, over the years, became my sister. There wasn’t a guy who lived in my building and was in a bunch of my classes who became my brother, or my boyfriend. There wasn’t a club that I got super involved in. Instead, I went to the music studio on Wednesday nights for two years and recorded an album, and Ken became my brother. Instead I hung out with my extended family on the weekends and went up to Maine a whole lot.

Some might say I missed out, but I don’t regret any of it. This is the end of my schooling. After this semester I will never again be a full time student. I might go back to Gordon periodically, though. I do like taking classes, and apparently it’s super cheep for alumni to audit classes there. I think that would actually be a really cool thing to do. It’ll be super laid back, I can take one class at a time, and I won’t be obligated to take classes in any particular program.

I’m a normal 21 year old. I’m nervous about making music work, I’m nervous about finding a job if it doesn’t, and I’m nervous about finding a boyfriend/husband. I’m nervous, but I also know somehow that everything will be just fine. It will be. I will not fail, the world will not end, and everything will be okay.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Fear Of Failure

Failure is a very scary thing– not just failing in itself, but the prospect of it; the possibility that in fact, I can fail. I keep telling myself over and over that I can make it as a musician or I can make it as a writer, but I know that there is a very large possibility that I won’t. I think it’s this fear, however that stops me from getting ahead. I played at the Sad Cafe the other night and a guy who was playing after me came over while I was getting coffee to say that he really liked my set. I thanked him and said that whenever I play somewhere I feel like there are at least a few people who are infinitely more talented. He said he had the same problem.

There’s a line in a Bright Eyes song that says “I could have been a famous singer if I had someone else’s voice.” I definitely feel like that sometimes. I often feel that although my music matches my lyrics and my voice very well, and although people really seem to like it, I feel that I could be a lot better at both. This summer I decided I’m going to teach myself “Resolution” by Andy Timmons (see “Sneaky-Sneaky”) to at least get better at the guitar part of it. There’s not much I can do about my voice.

Today I’m just going to fight down my fear, bite the bullet and do some research. I know of a couple places I can pester already, and I’m going to look for a few more. I’ll let you all know how it goes.

P.S. Please “Like” my facebook page https://www.facebook.com/KatieRoseCurtisMusic?fref=ts

Thanks! ❤

Learning A Lesson

This is a story I wrote for my Creative Writing class. I got an A- on it, so I thought I’d share. Enjoy! 🙂

Learning A Lesson

I have always loved music. When I was a little kid I listened to what my dad listened to, which was everything from Dizzy Gillespie to The Beatles, and when I was very young I took piano lessons. The only thing I remember about my teacher was that she chose what I would learn and I wasn’t allowed to play anything else. I quit when I was five. As I got older I would fantasize about playing in a rock band on stage and being famous. I thought about it a lot from the time was eight years old or so. I never really thought I would be able to make my dream a reality though, for a few reasons.
I was born with Muscular Dystrophy, which makes my muscles weaker than normal and prevents me from fully extending my arms and legs or turning my hands over. I knew that the proper way to play the guitar was to hold it under the neck and I simply would not be able to do that. A few years passed and I continued to fantasize about playing guitar, but I never brought it up to my parents. When I was ten I started listening to my own music. One of the first bands I ever listened to that my father had not introduced to me was Green Day. It was songs like “Haha You’re Dead” that got my friend Julia and me through middle school.
Freshman year finally rolled around and in December of 2007 my parents bought me Guitar Hero 3 for Christmas. Julia and I got completely hooked. I discovered that I could play the game guitar over the neck by resting my hand on top instead of pressing the buttons from below as one normally would. After that I questioned, “Could I do this with a real guitar?” I wanted to find out, so in April my parents bought me a black and white beginner’s guitar for my birthday and called Ken, who was Julia’s teacher at the time to set up lessons. I had to wait a few weeks to begin, so in the mean time I had Julia teach me to play “Brain Stew” by Green Day. I figured out how to play the power chords “overhand” and I practiced that song like my life depended on it.
On May 5th, 2008 I got out of school and nervously anticipated my first lesson. I seriously hoped this would not be like piano lessons had been. At four o’clock my mom and I arrived at the studio, which was behind Wendy’s in one of those buildings that have several business in them. It was comprised of a small waiting room and two other rooms that were used by Ken and Jamie for teaching.
A few minutes before a tall, muscular, young-looking man with short blond hair and blue eyes came out of the room on the right, accompanied by a boy who looked to be around my age; fourteen or fifteen.
“Boooo! See ya later, buddy!” said the man as the boy was leaving. He then introduced himself as Ken and after we shook hands and my mom signed some paperwork, officially became my teacher.
We went into the room on the left as it was bigger and easier to move around in and Ken got a blue, plastic folding chair from the corner and placed it a short distance across from me. The room was large but cluttered. There were music stands and guitars and amps as well as one or two drum sets in various places, lining the walls. It looked messy and musical and exciting and it made me feel at home, in some strange way.
“So, do you know anything about playing guitar,” asked Ken.
Without thinking I said, “Yes! I know how to play ‘Brain Stew’ by Green Day!”
“Great! I’ll get on the drums and let’s jam it!”
I was nervous, but I had obsessively been practicing the song, so I knew I could play it. Ken sat down at the drums, which were facing the wall and instructed me to play the chord progression a few times on my own before he jumped in with the drums. It was the actual drum part from the song! How cool was that! We played for perhaps two or three minutes then Ken said that this would be the last time around. I finished the progression and came out at exactly the right time.
“That was great,” he said encouragingly. “Can I see how you were doing it?”
I had been somewhat dreading that question. What would he say when he saw that I was playing upside down? Would he still be willing to teach me?
I started playing again and after a moment he said, “Wait. Is there any particular reason that you’re playing like that?” It was not the response I was expecting, but I explained that I could not turn my hands over and I just figured that I could learn to play “overhand” since it worked for Guitar Hero and for the Green Day song.
“Well, just humor me for a sec,” he said patiently. “Just try and if we can’t figure something out I’ll just teach you your way.”
I tried holding the guitar at various angles, but it either made it impossible to reach the end of the neck or to play without the guitar slipping, so finally we gave up and Ken agreed to teach me “my way.” In the time remaining he taught me to play a G, D, A and E chord and gave me a chart so I could practice at home. He had almost immediately adapted to playing “overhand.” I memorized the chord shapes quickly, but I could not switch between them quickly enough to play a progression. I vowed that I would be able to by the next lesson, but for now we were out of time.

Playing God

As a writer, I’m basically playing God. Spoiler Alert! My story starts out by me basically abusing one of my main characters. While I was writing about it, I felt awfully bad. I said to myself, “Self, this has to happen for the rest of the story to work out.” I wonder if this is how God feels when He lets bad things happen.

I’m a weirdo, so I read a bunch of stuff about the Biblical apocalypse online last night. People make it sound awfully scary. I guess it is sort of scary. I’ve had this weird interest in the end of the world lately. I guess it’s like being part of a story and wanting to know the end. Maybe knowing the end of a story before it happens isn’t such a good thing–unless you’re writing it, that is. Maybe knowing that you or your friend are going to die ahead of time isn’t such a good thing.

If you could know the time, place and cause of your death, would you want to? What if you spent the rest of your days trying to avoid it and in doing so, you made it happen? I don’t think I would want to know. At the same time though, if you knew, maybe you could bring yourself to peace with it and it wouldn’t be as bad or scary when it actually happened.

I’m a very present-oriented person. The past irritates me and the future scares me a little. I like to have a routine and I like my stuff the way it is. I don’t like change. When my mom said she was going to buy me an iPhone 5, I was thoroughly annoyed with her. I already had a working phone! I’ve since got used to it, though.

I do like learning new things, which is why I find photography fun. I need to get better at it though. Some of my pictures are blurry. I’ve been teaching myself a few new covers on guitar. I have a set list that’s comfortably 40 minutes long. If I practice a bunch I can probably play for 2 hours or so. I want to go work in the studio some more, but my friend has been ignoring his phone! I actually need to update the set list a bit. I’m going to do that now and then I’m going to write!

Toying

It’s Wednesday. I got up early partly so I could get some homework done, but partly so I could write something on my blog and read a little. I discovered William’s blog after I got an email telling me that he had read my blog. Of course we ended up talking about God, since that’s kind of all I do nowadays, or so it seems. I was kind of laughing last night because I go to a Christian school and yet I can’t seem to make Christian friends. I’m sure God has a hand in that. Many things that He does in my life are ironic. It is impossible to refute that God has a good sense of humor. Just ask the platypus.

I’ve mentioned in a previous post that I’ve been toying with the idea of becoming a pastor. On Monday night I stayed up a little later than I should have and did a little more research into what that entails. Well, it sounds like a heck of a lot of work. I think I’m up to it, though. It sounds like pastors do a lot of counseling and things like that. I actually kind of laughed when I read that because when I was a sophomore in high school, I had thought about becoming a counselor, but I really didn’t feel like going through all the work of getting a psych degree. I’m sure going through Seminary is no cake-walk, but at least I won’t have to deal with neuroscience (most likely). That’s actually why I decided not to be a psych major (at least part of the reason). I think very abstractly, so science and math tend to confuse me (although I did pretty well with Chemistry in high school). I guess that’s why things like Theology and Philosophy interest me so much. Not to mention the fact that I just like to argue sometimes.

What’s odd is that I can totally see myself as a pastor, but at the same time I so totally can not. One thing that’s holding me back from totally loving the idea is that it seems like being really nice is a kind of prerequisite. Maybe I’m generalizing, but my thinking is that maybe I’m just not nice enough. That’s not to say that I think I’m a mean person. I’m awfully mellow, but I’m also kind of obnoxious in that I will tell you exactly what is on my mind. I’m not exactly subtle sometimes. In some situations I can tend to talk without thinking. This just seems like something I would need to be more careful of if I became a pastor.

Another problem that I’m a little more worried about is that I’m a little unorthodox in my beliefs. I’m sure there are like-minded people out there, but they might be a little harder to find than the average protestant Christian. The other thing is that I think there are certain people in my largely Catholic family who wouldn’t exactly love the idea. Trust me, if I could be ordained in the Catholic Church I’d go for it, but since I can’t I’d have to go somewhere else. I’m thinking I’d go to a nondenominational church. That seems like safe-ish territory.

Of course I say I’m only toying with the idea and then I go off on a tangent. If anyone has any advice or insight, please leave comments! That would be super helpful! Thanks in advance!