I've mentioned in a previous post that I enjoy people-watching. It's rewarding not just because it provides comic relief on a regular basis. Yes, my friends, even people-watching teaches us something deep and life-changing. People-watching teaches us how to be comfortable in our skin--how to be present to who we are as God's creation.
I have to be honest. I have not been truly comfortable in my skin for any significant period of time; and actually, there are still many days that I am very uncomfortable in my skin. I chalk most of this up to the fact that I care too much about what people think about me; and so I often look at myself through my perceptions of how other people look at me. (I know, even reading that is exhausting--try living it!) This is perhaps why people-watching has been the key to change.
Human beings often categorize themselves based on looks, money, education, history, property, caste, guanxi and many other quantitative measures. We rate each other according to clothes, speech, social connections, houses and vehicles. It's kind of nauseating how much value we place on external categories when we measure the value of a person. All of this measuring feeds the vicious cycle of inability to be comfortable in our own skin.
But if we actually spend time with humans, observe them in various environments, watch their coming and going, their conversations and habits and their interactions with others, we learn that behind the external categories is a person who stains their perfect clothes, yells at their children, betrays friends, berates customer service representatives and doesn't keep their impeccable house that clean. It is impossible for people to live up to external standards, regardless of what initial appearances may be. Why, then, would we continue to feed the cycle?
Humans, without exception, are imperfect. We are not valuable as we measure up to externally pressured categories. We are valuable as who we are -- beings created in the very image of God Himself! Sure, the image is marred. But the skin we live in does not derive its worth from our efforts to fix what's broken. My worth--and yours--is squarely founded on our status as lovingly created, fiercely pursued...people.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
A New Series of Blogs: How to...
I'm not sure where the idea came from, and it probably isn't all that original, but I've decided to do a series of blogs that all begin with the prompt "How to...." If you have any suggestions for the series, by all means let me know! For now, I will start off the series with:
"How to Become an Adult (Because I Have Arrived)"
Adulthood is not all it is cracked up to be.
I remember thinking when I was little that when I grew up I would be able to drive the kind of car I wanted, go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted, eat what I wanted, play as much as I wanted, watch t.v. as much as I wanted and say the things that popped into my mind as often as I wanted to open my mouth. Granted, it is probably true that children who grow up with very few boundaries, with the weight of family responsibility on their shoulders or without God giving them things like acutely sensitive consciences might not dream of adulthood as I did. But I was not one of those children. I was a child with what seemed like 10 bajillion boundaries, very little responsibility and a very, very sensitive/over-reactive (God-given?) conscience.
Suddenly, that child was in university, driving, without immediate parental supervision or consequences to broken parental boundaries but--dadgummit!--with a still-burdensome sense of being watched by Someone. Constantly.
After university, that child went halfway around the world and back; and even though she wasn't driving, she most certainly exercised more of her right to be an adult, to be herself, to do whatever she wanted to do. At this point, however, there was also an increasing sense of doing what others and Someone Else wanted her to do. Going, for example, to places she didn't want to go. Eating lots and lots of things she didn't want to eat. Staying with people she didn't want to stay with. Writing things she didn't want to write and working places she didn't want to work.
There is a rebellious part of me (perhaps it is the still-child in me) that wants to cling to my youth and to the simplicity of my childhood; Jesus Himself commended children on numerous occasions for their extraordinary faith. But the child in me that demanded an autonomous adulthood has died. To become an adult, I must deny myself, take up my cross and follow Him. That is not the adulthood I once craved; but the point is that my craving is no longer the point.
"How to Become an Adult (Because I Have Arrived)"
Adulthood is not all it is cracked up to be.
I remember thinking when I was little that when I grew up I would be able to drive the kind of car I wanted, go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted, eat what I wanted, play as much as I wanted, watch t.v. as much as I wanted and say the things that popped into my mind as often as I wanted to open my mouth. Granted, it is probably true that children who grow up with very few boundaries, with the weight of family responsibility on their shoulders or without God giving them things like acutely sensitive consciences might not dream of adulthood as I did. But I was not one of those children. I was a child with what seemed like 10 bajillion boundaries, very little responsibility and a very, very sensitive/over-reactive (God-given?) conscience.
Suddenly, that child was in university, driving, without immediate parental supervision or consequences to broken parental boundaries but--dadgummit!--with a still-burdensome sense of being watched by Someone. Constantly.
After university, that child went halfway around the world and back; and even though she wasn't driving, she most certainly exercised more of her right to be an adult, to be herself, to do whatever she wanted to do. At this point, however, there was also an increasing sense of doing what others and Someone Else wanted her to do. Going, for example, to places she didn't want to go. Eating lots and lots of things she didn't want to eat. Staying with people she didn't want to stay with. Writing things she didn't want to write and working places she didn't want to work.
There is a rebellious part of me (perhaps it is the still-child in me) that wants to cling to my youth and to the simplicity of my childhood; Jesus Himself commended children on numerous occasions for their extraordinary faith. But the child in me that demanded an autonomous adulthood has died. To become an adult, I must deny myself, take up my cross and follow Him. That is not the adulthood I once craved; but the point is that my craving is no longer the point.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Mongolia: Its Future?
After reading through this article, posted Wednesday April 7 to the BBC News website, I couldn't help but be sad for my other homeland.
Mongolia does indeed boast a glorious hoard of natural resources, including exactly what the article says: gold, uranium, copper, iron ore, oil and more.
But the predicted boom over the next several years will, I fear, completely and perhaps irrevocably alter the cultural and natural landscapes of the Land of the Blue Sky.
Even though Mongolia's government has been democratic in form for about 20 years now, it has been and is perennially plagued with corruption at every level of government--and that with only about $5 billion in national revenue per year. A sudden and hugely dramatic increase in government monies will not magically solve the serious problems of crime, homelessness, substance abuse, disease and human trafficking that regular Mongolians deal with on a daily basis. These exciting new mining developments will only lead to a greater divide between the rich and poor and perhaps almost entirely obliterate the emerging middle class.
Not only that, but as one who has traveled across the country multiple times I can say that it is without a doubt the most naturally beautiful place I have ever seen. Once outside the capital's sprawling ger districts, pollution, jumbled power lines and power plants and the perpetual honk of frustrated drivers, it is as if one has stepped back to a time when fences, electricity, motors, gas, roads and bright lights had not yet replaced nature. Grass, rolling hills, majestic mountains, dirt, sky, flowers, streams and wild horses all survive essentially unspoiled by man-made intrusions.
This Mongolia--the harsh, extreme, beautiful habitat of generations of nomadic herders--will be replaced by a corporate Mongolia that knows nothing of true Tsagaan Sar (White Month) traditions, the vast unbridled plains, countryside hospitality or even the Blue Sky.
This I fear; but this I trust: "All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him...."
Mongolia does indeed boast a glorious hoard of natural resources, including exactly what the article says: gold, uranium, copper, iron ore, oil and more.
But the predicted boom over the next several years will, I fear, completely and perhaps irrevocably alter the cultural and natural landscapes of the Land of the Blue Sky.
Even though Mongolia's government has been democratic in form for about 20 years now, it has been and is perennially plagued with corruption at every level of government--and that with only about $5 billion in national revenue per year. A sudden and hugely dramatic increase in government monies will not magically solve the serious problems of crime, homelessness, substance abuse, disease and human trafficking that regular Mongolians deal with on a daily basis. These exciting new mining developments will only lead to a greater divide between the rich and poor and perhaps almost entirely obliterate the emerging middle class.
Not only that, but as one who has traveled across the country multiple times I can say that it is without a doubt the most naturally beautiful place I have ever seen. Once outside the capital's sprawling ger districts, pollution, jumbled power lines and power plants and the perpetual honk of frustrated drivers, it is as if one has stepped back to a time when fences, electricity, motors, gas, roads and bright lights had not yet replaced nature. Grass, rolling hills, majestic mountains, dirt, sky, flowers, streams and wild horses all survive essentially unspoiled by man-made intrusions.
This Mongolia--the harsh, extreme, beautiful habitat of generations of nomadic herders--will be replaced by a corporate Mongolia that knows nothing of true Tsagaan Sar (White Month) traditions, the vast unbridled plains, countryside hospitality or even the Blue Sky.
This I fear; but this I trust: "All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him...."
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