Dancing on Diversey

Today, a friend and I moved furniture from one apartment to hers. This cat, Jesse, is a fellow who has gone to Wicker Park Grace here and there and who does community organizing... stuff. we met again this spring when he came to visit Yale Divinity School. He's mostly interested in public policy and religion, I think, and so was visiting YDS and Harvard. In the end, he chose to go to Harvard for the Kennedy School, and I think it was the right decision. I'm proud of what my school does, but it has more resources in ethics and religion than in public policy and religion. As much as I would like to have another hometown friend at YDS and in New Haven, it's better that one goes where one can get what one needs. Yeah. How do we separate what we want from what we need? Better: how do we integrate them? This is a good thing to figure out.

I was in charge of guarding the car, which was parked in front of a fire hydrant, while everyone else moved furniture. I swear I didn't plan it that way. I'm strong. Strong like bull. A bull that wears dresses. My friend's mixed CD was playing. The volume was up high and this came on:



There I was, behind the car, the vertical back door open, and seated in the rear cargo area. Things were good. I got up to dance, too, by myself, as I waited for the next load. Why not?

Two songs later, after Mr. Big told me how he was the one who wanted to be with me, I heard this song:



I didn't know Bright Eyes, and I don't know if I'm supposed to like them or hate them or be sooo over them or recognize their subtle ironies or what. I better go to Pitchfork and let them tell me. Anyway, this song hit at the right time. Watching the few drops of rain, sitting on Diversey, buzzed on coffee, looking to breathe some more.

It's sunny on Thomas Street in Chicago. The neighborhood kids are loud and laughing. It's not the first day of my life. It's funny how that can happen more than once, though.

That's who you've got to be!

I walked into Koffee, planning on spending a few more hours on this philosophy paper. This is a real test of a my thought-organizing skills. I have a lot to say (gulp) and learn (of course) on this topic but am unsure of my capability of organizing the jumble into something that is good... or really good. Writing by hand helps, for some reason, more than the computer. The computer is too stimulating for an already-hyperactive mind.

I have been thinking about Chicago lately.

I spend a lot of time in this cafe. They usually do really well with the music, and I appreciate that. Tonight, as I walked in, they were playing this:



Actually, they were playing the Pedro the Lion version off of the It's Hard to Find a Friend album. I haven't heard it in a long time.

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Easter 1916
Yeats

I

I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

Check out those guns

I read (or: "browse with ADHD") a couple of weightlifting and "exercise" blogs. They tend to be a little less touchy-feely and a little more ass-kicky. There's room for both in life, but I benefit more from ass-kicky when it comes to sports. Stumptuous.com is a site run by a woman named Krista. She lifts heavy things a lot. It's a useful site for fitness information, especially stuff for women. We are often told not to lift heavy things because we'll bulk up. Or we're told that we should only try to "tone up" by lifting light weights for 25 reps. This mindset has a lot to do with how much of society perceives a woman's ideal body and objections when she steps outside that image. There are books and dissertations written on this topic. I'll save space and leave that for people who know more than I do, but will simply say:

Stop thinking that women have to be stick figures to be pretty or acceptable.

(insert swear word)

Got it? Good.
































Krista posted something a little touchy-feely, though, that I thought was valuable. Excerpted:

On April 4, 2009, I celebrated my second birthday.

Actually it was my first second birthday. One year since I quit my job.

I came up with the concept of a “second birthday” after a friend of mine made a major, life-changing transition that ultimately left her much happier than before. The second birthday is the day you’re reborn. You decide when that will be. It’s your birthday, after all.

Now, most life transitions don’t happen in a single exciting day. Often they sneak up on us, and we suddenly realize that in some way, we’re six months better than we were before.

But sometimes, there is a brief period of time during which we decide no more or I’m going to try that. And we take some big step that ultimately leads us down a path we never could have anticipated. Looking back, we realize that at that moment the universe kicked us in the ass. We’ve ended up as new people.

Hence, second birthday.

....

Culturally, we mark some life passages but not others. As the etiquette doyennes advised, “A lady should not appear in the newspaper except on three occasions: when she’s born, when she’s married, and when she dies.” Running for world leader is obviously not part of this scenario. (On the other hand, perhaps following this advice would have prevented the human car crashes of Lindsay Lohan and Tara Reid.)

However, there isn’t yet a greeting card for things like:

* Getting your shit together
* Getting your first period
* Paying off your credit card and getting out of soul-crushing debt
* Kicking your jackass leech partner to the curb
* Your first real squat (I’m working on this)

I think this reflects some short-sightedness on behalf of Hallmark.

I like this image of the universe kicking us in the ass. Or, I don't like it but I think it's useful. Sometimes it's a really troubling image, and I know that most of us have times when this happens. Other times, though, the world starts to beat the shit out of us but we begin to beat back. Quietly, loudly, privately, subtly, publicly; however you want it.

Let's be clear: my life is pretty cushy and I'm not going to paint myself as some great sufferer. I'm a grad student with all her limbs and a few bikes and a touch of free time. But everyone gets his or her ass kicked in some way or sees it happening for others.

What I appreciate about what she wrote is her willingness to mark changes, sometimes in response to cosmic beat-downs, and events that are as or more significant than getting popped out into the world. Most of us reading this have the capacity to do what we want with life and get more of what we want out of it, we just have to take a step. And then another. Get knocked down? Try it another way. Try something else. It's better than remaining stagnant.

The error that I see people making is that they try to make a big change and mark it on a day and if a change fails, they get frustrated and give up. Small changes matter, too, and can make a difference. Patience, self. Patience.

So: What do you want?

Anyway, the whole post is here: "And if today becomes different for you, think ahead a year from now. You will get cake." Cake!

I hate inspirational crap, but let's cut the shit. Sometimes you are supposed to grow. Deal with it.

Also: Check it out! Jess and Jake are sprouting! I friggin' love sprouting.

I remember it well

This song gets a nod for the piano. Or a slap. For some reason I don't like to listen to Death Cab for Cutie, or I don't get excited about them. This song gets a mention, though.

I remember it well. The sky was gray, and you were all I could look at at in your pretty pink dress, fluttering like a butterfly on hot asphalt. You were the promise of death and love. In your heart seemed a certain finality that I could be comfortable with. I was ready to take your ephemeral delicateness in my hands and I couldn't understand why you had that kind of trust in a wretch like me. - JP7

A friend wrote that as part of his story.


I'm realizing that we have the freedom to do anything.

Grand Theft Velo!

http://ecscorchers.blogspot.com/

As always: Don't ride in a way that will get you maimed.

"outside the vision of the arrogant eye"

AKA: What I might have learned this year, Part Two:



- I do not like it when people speak too loudly in cafes, especially cafes where there is a large number of people working. I appreciate people who are conscious and respectful of those around them.

- Some people complain about divinity students treating all their conversations as if they were pastoral care opportunities.

- If you are going to open up to someone about certain things, that second person should not have any kind of investment in the topic for their personal gain. Too bad you can't control this.

- Every acquaintanceship is not an opportunity to solve a problem or to make change in the world.

- There is value in not caring. Sometimes.



- It's OK to apologize for having acted like an asshole.

- People are the worst and the best and all you don't want and some of all the good you'll ever have.

- Being quiet in nature is what might save us all.

- You might as well ask. You never know what the answer will be or where it will take you.

- It's useful to be intentional about socializing and conversation.

- Philosophy might be just what you thought it was. In the words of Marianne Janack, interpreting Richard Rorty's later relationship to philosophy:

"Philosophers are not philosophers in virtue of pursuing a common set of problems, but rather in virtue of owning and reading a common set of books. "

I reserve the right to be wrong about everything.

"Emotional intelligence 'aids sex'"

"Women who are more 'emotionally intelligent' get greater pleasure from sex, research on twins suggests."

"To our knowledge, these findings show for the first time an association between female orgasmic frequency and normal variations in emotional intelligence. The positive correlation between emotional intelligence and the frequency of orgasm during masturbation and intercourse leads us to conclude that a high emotional intelligence level contributes to the ability to achieve orgasm more frequently."

Wondering how they defined emotional intelligence, I found this description in the study:

1. The construct of emotional intelligence was first introduced by Salovey and Mayer, who derived emotional intelligence from the broader construct of social intelligence, and defined it as "the ability to monitor one's own and others' feelings and emotions, to discriminate among them and to use this information to guide one's thinking and actions."

2. In today's literature, we find several different but generally convergent conceptualizations of the emotional intelligence construct. Bar-On, an expert and pioneer in the field of emotional intelligence, uses a much broader definition of the construct, which includes adaptive capacities and abilities to control impulses and cope with stress, as well as intra-personal and interpersonal intelligence (e.g., emotion-related self-perceptions, emotion management, empathy).

3. Research on emotional intelligence suggests that people differ in how they experience emotions, how able they are to differentiate between them, and how much emotional information they can utilize and process, intra-personally and also inter-personally. These capacities—which have been proven to differ between people—may have a direct impact on women's sexual functioning, and on her ability to communicate her expectations and desires to her partner.

What I might have learned this year

Since starting school, since leaving Chicago:

- New England pours a different kind of Haterade than Chicago. I don't think it's worse.
- You probably should depend only on yourself. Related:
- You should probably take care of yourself first. Do no harm to others, but make sure you tend to your health first.
- On writing:

"give yourself time and space to explore"

Marilynne Robinson touched on this on one of her lectures this spring, noting that we are quick to limit ourselves, perhaps because of an expectation of criticism. Many of us are used to anticipating criticism, judgment, or condemnation, even from ourselves, and thus limit what we do with our work or lives.

I am great at asking questions. I find the questions come more naturally than do the answers and resort to asking them when I am writing papers and in class discussions. I use them to avoid committing to a position. If I want to grow to be a better writer, I have to be willing to answer the questions more.

- "There cannot be deep disappointment without deep love."OK . Is the reverse necessarily true?
- Biking might be better in New England.
- Living without a car can be OK and/or great here.
- A lot of exposure to the same people might drive a person nuts. I wonder if this applies to romantic relationships. I hope not.
- The ability to comport one's self well in conversation is really important.
- Two of my biggest academic challenges are wrangling and organizing thoughts.
- I will need to decide if I need to re-learn patience.
- Yale undergrads are some smart little whipper snappers.

Part 1

"Aint' gonna rain anymore"

One paper in! It was a messy paper on Reagan, Rios Montt, Jeane J. Kirkpatrick, Pentecostalism, and assigning authority. I could have done better but I ran out of time. That's a bummer, but I know I learned a lot in researching the paper and trying to write it. I've got more paper to go. This one will probably be on Rorty, pragmatism and feminism, based on a lecture he gave in 1992.

I still struggle with the writing, but I don't know that I will get much worse. Each of my professors seems to have expected a different writing style this semester. I didn't know this for about half the semester. Then I sometimes wrote in one style for the wrong class. That shit is confusing. Furthermore, having to write and think for class can be a great way not to write and think about or for yourself. Thus, this piece-of-junk has become more of a deposit ground for updates and silly junk.

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I'm thinking about a summer reading list, which I'm sure I'll ignore once the summer starts. Tops on it is to read Kate Turabian's A Manual for Writers. Sexy, I know. I asked my Religion and Foreign Policy professor for some suggestions, and he gave me the following:


God and Gold (his book) - we read some of it for class
Special Providence (also his book)
The Struggle for Mastery in Europe
The French Revolution
The Financial Times
and...
The Economist. Ha!

I think I could handle a summer subscription to The Economist. I wonder how much that might cost or if I could sit in the library for a while each week and read theirs.

Phil recommended Eros and Pathos

I'm still compiling the list. I should clarify (ah, clarity!) for you that I am usually a slow reader, so I don't have any grand plans for firming up my brain this summer by completing a long list. Let it also be known that I am not trying to impress anyone with a reading list. I'm trying to learn more stuff that I don't know and how to be a better student. Chances are high that if left to my own devices, it'd be crossword puzzles and sitting and staring for the rest of my life.

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Regarding poor running (and good biking):

I have to admit that I started listening to music on some of the runs and it helped. I know there are runners who are adamant about not running with music, just as there are those that poo-poo the treadmill. I'm more adamant about having a good run. Distance runs are not good, yet, but better. I'm trying to commit to cutting back for a while, though. I'm reserving it for special occasions, like when I'm out in Woodbridge or when Lindsay (!) wants to run. (Lindsay is training for a 10K!)

Andy B (!) and I are taking weekly rides on the Farmington Canal Trail, and now that classes are over, I'm getting out there as much as possible. The route itself is about 15 miles from New Haven to Cheshire, including travel to its start. 30 miles - not a lazy distance, but I hope to do longer rides when my energy gets better. We're hopefully going to explore more into Cheshire to see where we can ride.






































It drizzled and misted the whole day.


















The trail is part of the East Coast Greenway, which will someday run from Maine to Florida.






















Farmington Canal, I suppose

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look what Harvard offered.


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I approve Rachel's transfer from the MAR Comprehensive program to the MDiv program.

Best to all,
Emilie Townes

I don't know about God. When you spend all your time thinking about the work of people who claim to be honoring or following God, you may not have space to see or feel God. I'm dipping my toe into the water. I don't know if I will dive or walk in or cannonball.

Why not, though? We get one life. Let's have an adventure.