Mountains.

Homesick is a funny feeling. One that I rarely cross paths with, to be honest. Restlessness is usually a more accurate description of my state of mind. Normally I don't crave the familiar; I long for the unexplored. I'm always on to the next, on to the next, on to the next. But today I miss all the things I've seen before. I especially miss the mountains. Few things remind me of God's greatness like a big, imposing mountain. I've always been fascinated with them; even as a kid, I used to try and comprehend how that huge rock was finite compared to God.  I loved them. Every time our family took the weekend to go hiking, as we approached that place on the highway where the outline of the mountains starts to peek over the horizon, my face would light up and I would feel the need to confirm with my parents in the front seat that it was in fact "the mountains" that I was seeing. I'd get so antsy to be in their midst that every mile from there on in was more exciting than the next.

Now, living in a place where they call a slight gradual incline "the mountain", the rockies are a reminder of home. They're that token thing that I miss. It's not like I miss the actual rocks, or that seeing them will bring me a sense on completeness. What I miss about home is the people. But for some reason these towering mountain ranges are what I long for.  Maybe it's that childish feeling I'm actually nostalgic for. Being so excited about the very moment that you're in that you just don't even know how you are going to stay seated in that back seat. So content with the right now, and so excited about what's to come.  I'm not sure.  

East. West. Best. Everything Else.

Today I was feeling very west-coastish; is that an adjective?  For some reason I was longing to drink a JJ Bean chai latte and walk the coast of Vancouver, Seattle or Portland.  All day I was craving Portland's wonderful city transit and good recycling program, and Vancouver's unceasing dreariness.  Sometimes part of me is upset and how my body limits me to being in one place at a time.  I long to experience all that life can possibly offer me. I want to know all people, and see all places, and experience all culture. I want to hear the best music and smell the best smells. I want to take in all of life's rawness. Even if it hurts; part of me wants to know the pain that other people experience. I want to love. And not just love for my own sake, but experience selfless love. I want to jump off the tallest things and swim into the depths.  To experience all seasons without waiting or to get on a train and not know where it's going. To sleep on a stranger's couch. To lie on a beach in the middle of a snowstorm.  To drink the world's best coffee or smoke the best tobacco.  To eat cheap donuts and talk to uninteresting people; to experience the mundane but see it's beauty. I want to sit in a lecture of every university. I want to experience the stereotypical - to watch the american past time, to skate in central park, to fall in love in Paris. 

In some senses movies have cheapened these things for us; we will never have that perfectly lined up moment. But yet, I think they have enriched these things too. They place in us a longing for experience, and the feeling that comes with that experience, that we would probably never otherwise dream of. How sad is it that we have to let someone else do our dreaming for us?  

"I Believe"

I suppose most of these thoughts stemmed from the discussion we had at home church last night. For those of you who just thought "what's home church?" - it's more or less a trendy way to say Bible study.

So we were talking about Ephesians 5:1-20; in verse eight it says: "For you were once in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light..."

Live as children of light. 

Wow. That is a huge calling. I feel like we have a tendency to over- metaphor-ize things are therefore entirely disregard them. How influential would we be if we walked out the door every morning and exhibited Jesus' truth in literally everything we did. 

As an example... So let's say, you grow up your whole life thinking the colour we say is blue, is in fact Blue. Just as we've grown up hearing "women are sexual objects, indulge in all things, work towards your own advancement." And then someone comes along and says, no -- you've got it all wrong. Blue is Purple. Believe me and live the rest of your life accordingly. Now, first of all, if you said "I believe you", you would be making a pretty bold statement. If, from there, you went and submerged yourself underwater in front of a bunch of people to proclaim that in fact you now felt with your whole self that "Blue IS Purple", you would be saying a lot. Now, if you really believed this new truth it would change anything. Your perception of the world would be shattered. Or enhanced entirely. You choose. Everything you saw that you once saw as Blue would now be Purple, how enlightening would that be? Would you not want to tell everyone about how everything we'd ever been told was a distortion of reality, and you now had the key to Truth? 

But here's the crazy thing. Jesus essentially did this. He came and said, your society is marred. Here is the Truth. And we said, "oh yeah, cool - I believe you." Maybe some people got excited about it, but the majority of us (about 90% of North America) said, okay cool, so... how little can I do and get to heaven? People! BLUE IS PURPLE. Everything is changed. We have found TRUTH. Why are our lives not completely changed by it? Why aren't we sharing this amazing revelation we've been told? Why are we letting the rest of the world live with their eyes closed. 

We are children of Light.

Banksy; Modern Day Genius

So this week I've had a difficult time focussing to say the least...

In my lack of learning about cells and western civilization I have found myself once again enjoying the clever mystery characterized by Banksy.

This man is seriously a genius. He says so much while boldly defying societal norms.

Here's a few of my favourite quotes... (the pictures kept not working)

“You're mind is working at its best when you're being paranoid.
You explore every avenue and possibility of your situation
at high speed with total clarity.” - Banksy

“The greatest crimes in the world are not committed by people breaking the rules but by people following the rules. It's people who follow orders that drop bombs and massacre villages”  - Banksy

"Any advertisement in public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It belongs to you. It's yours to take, rearrange and re-use. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head.”  - Banksy

Toronto; not so bad

There are few places I've been that I would say I genuinely didn't like. In a boring town there is usually something unique to be found, in an urban cement-covered city somebody has usually expressed art somewhere tucked away in a corner.  Even in Rome, a city I didn't enjoy whatsoever, the beauty of their architecture is undeniable. (And the Gelato is good, too.)

 I've trekked from Vancouver to Montreal, and up to the Yukon at varying points in my two decades of Canadian inhabitance, but for some reason always avoided Toronto. Debatably, the centre of the country; at least in terms of commerce.  So last weekend, I finally went. I expected a cold, skyscraper-ridden, empty feeling metropolis. But I was pleasantly surprised. Everywhere I looked it seemed as though cultural diversity was prominent. While wandering through Chinatown to the Kensington Market, I felt as though I had left my home country and in fact entered into something entirely foreign.  Between the smells of fish out in the open, and an overwhelming montage of colourful scarves and blankets, the scene from the matrix that i'd envisioned was nowhere to be found.  Sure, Starbucks was everywhere and you didn't have to look far to see someone wearing a suit, but that also added an element of it's own to the feel of the city.  In Vancouver, you don't have to look far to find an environmental-supporting hipster, or an underground indie concert, but a little further you'd have to go to find a career-driven twenty five year-old rushing off to a business meeting. I think I liked Toronto because it felt like it had some of everything.  The "fringe of society" loving people were there, there was music, and art and poverty, but there was also people of importance in terms of how our country functions, finance majors and people key in insurance firms. At times, I think we get so involved in finding culture outside of culture, that we forget that the suit-wearing, Starbucks-carrying, business-minded people are just as much of our society as those of us that vote Green. (And yes, I vote green).

In conclusion, Toronto is now on my list of favs. 

First days in Ontario

note the person on the right- hilarious!

I packed my life into three suitcases, I hugged everyone I love, shed a few tears, and got on flight WS0404 to Hamilton.  For four hours I sat restlessly, with my mindset nestling between anxious and excited.  The resounding words of "the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign" finally signalled the end of my flight.  I stepped off, anticipating a legendarily warm Ontario summer day, only to be welcomed by a overcast gloomy sky. I heaved my bags off the luggage carousal, and was on my way to Redeemer.

me in my snazzy dorm

So now I'm here --

hard at work at my job...

The past few days have been filled [literally- FILLED] with meeting new people.  A sea of new faces, each one with a story yet to be discovered by me.  It seems as though I cannot shake hands fast enough around here.  Classes started yesterday.  My Wednesdays rudely begin at 8am (thank goodness for coffee).  Sociology, Biology, Philosophy, History and English fill the time until dinner. I didn't know my brain was capable of absorbing this much information, but I guess it's going to have to.  At nine I head to the Rec. centre on campus and perform the excruciating duties involved in my job: a few hours of facebooking, maybe a bit of homework, some online t.v. and maybe a blog post or two. At 1:00am I lock the door at the Rec. Centre and head to bed. And that's a day in the life at Redeemer!

The Jump is Scarier than the Fall

The Jump was Scarier than the Fall

Last week I jumped head first, intrusting my life in a harness.  I've wanted to bungee jump for ages, so I finally did it.  I looked forward to it all day, and it wasn't until I got the very edge, with my toes dangling over the edge that fear set in. At that point you're strapped in, you're standing there ready to jump, turning around isn't an option for anyone with a sliver of pride. So they count down ... 3...2...1 and then, you have no choice - you've comitted. If you try and run back, chances are the heavy cord would pull you down and make for a painful jump, you have to just dive foreward and make the most of the fall. So that's what I did.  I jumped. And all that anticipation, all the fear, came together into an exhilerating surge of adrenaline as gravity took over.  And then, as quickly as it started, the free fall is over, and you're back on your feet as though you'd never took the plunge at all. I guess this is how my life feels right now, I've got my toes dangling over the edge.

6 weeks.

In 6 weeks, everything changes.

 

Leaving my home city is something i've idealized in my head for years.  Since half way through highschool i've dreamed of packing everything, giving this city a wave and returning only for major holidays -- at which point everyone will express how desolate their lives feel without me, and perhaps throw a parade in my honour.

But now it's real.  Today I looked at the phone. July 23rd, it said. In other words: July just flew by without you noticing, just like August will.  'Home' is no longer going to mean anything.  In a sense, home is my parent's house -- but even that feels like somewhere that I left memories, and I no longer hold any personal attachment to.  My room now will soon be filled with other people's things, and they won't give thought to the conversations I had in there, the things I learned while sitting against that wall, the cries I had in that room.  And why would they? It will be more theirs than it is mine.

Rediscovering myself scares me, a little bit.  What if I don't like who I am without all my stuff? What if Hilary, without her friends, family and church has become quite a disgusting person? 

What if I wake up one morning and realize I don't want to come back?

rain.

Holiday Monday, and it's raining.
 
As Shiny Toy Guns would say, "On a rainy Monday..." 

I woke up to this soggy day and was moderatly put out that the tanning session I had planned for today would have to be put on hold.  But something about rain is nostalgic.  As I sit near my window with a cup of hot tea, I find the rain strangely comforting.  Maybe because you can't really do anything.  You can attempt to do your errands and get soaked and frustrated, but if you just accept the fact that it's raining and sit inside reading a good book with a hot drink, you will have a lovely day.  It's funny, how we coinside rain with so many varying emotions.  When we feel depressed and alone, the rain speaks into our hopelessness.  It's dreary nature feeds the addictive nature of our misery.  And yet, when in the rain with someone we love - or something we think we would like to love, there is nothing more magical than being together, shivering and soaked.   In some senses, rain will reflect whatever we want it to.



I think one of the reasons I loved England so much was the rain.  We were constantly forced to stay inside and be comforted by our own company, and of course our tea.  Then when the sun finally did come out it was like everybody transformed and was happier and layed outside all day.  But without the rainy days nobody would have cared about the sunny ones.  As much as everyone loves a sun scorched day, of all the elements I think rain holds the most emotional clout.


I really wasn't intending to parallell this to "hard times make you appreciated the good times" ... but it's kind of unavoidable.  Sometimes being stuck inside, forced to slow down and just breathe allows us to enjoy the sun that much more when it is shining.

Too busy - But not actually

These past few weeks have been quite busy.  I just realized that is how everyone starts their anual  Christmas letter. But with Michelle's wedding on Saturday, and starting at a few job, it seems there is rarely a spare moment to stop and just - breathe. A few years ago, I read a book called Too Busy Not to Pray. To be honest I don't really remember anything about the book... despite the fact that I wrote a paper on the thing.  But I guess the title says it all. But maybe instead, when referring to my life they should call it 'Too Busy to Care at all', or 'You're not actually that busy, you've just conviced yourself that you are as a cheap excuse to put God on the back burner.' 

It's interesting, I suppose, how the first thing to go from our daily routine when things get hectic is time with God.  When I'm on some weekend retreat, with 3 hours set aside for 'personal time' - oh, you can bet God and I are real close! But as soon as my evenings are full and I'm rushing between work and errands, the effort I put into my relationship with God slips pretty quickly.  I have friends like this.  We are great friends when they have the time. When all their other commitments are otherwise occupied or work slows down, that's when they call me and we go for coffee. Sure. It's still always a nice time, but when I look at our friendship from a step back I realize I'm not a priority in their life, it makes me realize that we arn't really friends at all. We are just two people who get along and hang out when there's nothing better to do.


So I guess what I'm gettting at here, is if I consider my relationship with God to be this important thing in my life, why do I have it on the bottom of the priority totem pole?

All. I. Want. To. Do. Is. Sleep.

Two nights of insomnia and I am at the breaking point.  I've tried it all... avoided caffine, washed my sheets, a 1am McDonalds run, tried lying there thinking of nothing and still - can't sleep.  You know that scene in fight club where he says with insomnia nothing's really real, everything gets the volume turned down.  Well it's true.  I've kind of gone through life's motions for the last two days on autopilot.

Right now I'm reading 'Through painted deserts' by Donald Miller. It's pretty good.  Perhaps when I have slept more than a couple hours I'll write something insightful about it, but now is not the time.  Right now it's just about Don and his friend driving around in a van and there is nothing more I can think of.  

I'm not even sure I could recall what I did today.  This blog is so pointless.  But I would just like to make a note that you should all appreciate sleep while you have it cause once you can't, you will wish for nothing more.

Adios for now.

I should like, get smart or something.

This September I am going back to school. I am super excited to move to Ontario, live in dorms, and dive into a new social pool.  I am less excited, however, to be drowning in reading and essays, feel underequipped and be under constant stress.  So, about a month ago I made a reading list for myself.  15 books I have to read before I go back to school.  For someone with the reading compasity of Twilight, this is kind of an undertaking.  And no, there is no Nicolas Sparks on the list.  I pretty much looked up '100 books to read before you die' and picked the ones that didn't sound stupid or I hadn't already read.

So here's my list:

(1) Dubliners- James Joyce [which I am finished]

(2) Atlas shrugged- Ayn Rand [I think I can get a scholarship out of this one]

(3) Pride and Prejudice- Jane Austen

(4) Age of Innosence- Edith Wharton

(5) Searching for God knows what- Donald Miller

(6) Through Painted Deserts- Donald Miller [Currently reading...]

(7) Fight Club- Chuck Palanhniuk [Finished]

(8) On the Road- Jack Karuak

(9) Nineteen Eighty Four- George Orwell

(10) Catcher in the Rye- JD Salinger

(11) The time traveller's wife- Audrey Niffenegger

(12) Alice in Wonderland- Lewis Carroll

(13) Life of Pi- Yann Martel

(14) A Tale of Two Cities- Charles Dickens

(15) The Lovely Bones- Alice Sebold

At the bottom of Everything

So I've gotten in this strange habit where as soon as I write a blog post I will think of a bunch more random junk that I feel like writing about and then like ten minutes later I will post another one.  Tres lame, I know.

I was just organizing the chaotic collection of photos that have accumulated on my laptop during the past couple years.  I know I write about travelling a lot, but that's because it's one of the few things I am passionate about.  I'm not one of those people that has a hobby that they devote all their time to.  I literally work to travel and live a little bit of life in between here and there.  One of my favorite parts about travelling is the airports.  Kind of strange, I know.  There is something I very much appreciate about the awkward lag time at the gate.  No matter how long you have, you feel rushed-- and yet you are just killing time.  People will talk about being all alone in a sea of people.  I seldom feel that way, but the airport is the perfect example.  For some reason everyone feels the need to look important and it's as though wherever they are going is the be all and end all of life as we know it.  All airports are so different and yet they all have this interesting feeling of emptyness about them.   There are few things I like more than getting a latte and people watching while I wait for them to call my flight.

By the way, if you were waiting for me to get to it... this airport appreciation session doesn't really have a point.  

I have certain little rituals that I have crafted quite beautifully when it comes to my travel experience.  For example, while I wait for them to call the flights I like to listen to "Hello, I'm Delaware" by city and colour because it talks about "there goes my life with every departing flight"... and there is something identifyable about the fact that I am wasting my life that way too.  Then, when I'm on the plane... usually right after we've taken off I pop in Bright Eyes "At the bottom of Everything." You might recall that this is the song with the schpeel in the beginning about the plane crashing. It's comforting.  Then I like to flip through the emergency landing pamphlet and laugh about the scene in Fight Club where Brad Pitt talks about the smiling expressions on the people's faces despite the fact that their plane is crashing.  Then, to finish off the flight I usually listen to "Comin home" by city and colour.  I just realized how ridiculously specific this is, but I actually do it every time.  Give it a try sometime.  You might not seek as much comfort in Connor Oberst describing a plane crash as I do, but you never know.

I kind of hate people that just blog about things they like and random junk I don't care about, but .... I just did it.  So my sincere apologies for wasting for my own narrsistical purposes.  But now you have some insight into my well crafted art of the flying experience.

Just me

A rainy day in Kirkland

Once again I just returned from Seattle. It was wonderful. The west coast is truly a beautiful place.  The people think more and the coffee's better.  But that is completely irrelevant.

Lately I've been thinking quite a bit about lonliness. And not in the "poor me, I'm so lonely" kind of way. I've kind of been appreciating it.  For the most part I have always thought of myself as the furthest possible thing from an introvert.  I used to love being with people all the time -- the more people the better. People, people, people.  

This week all my roommates went away for reading week and it's just me and my fluffy maltese left in the house.  The first night was awful. I was so scared couldn't sleep and I had to text a friend until I got so tired I passed out, phone in hand.  But as the days go on and I wake up and go to sleep in an empty house I am begining to appreciate having to deal with myself.  I don't know how we think we know ourselves.  When your constantly surrounded by people and music and tv and everything else you can kind of forget what you're like to be with.  It's like... I knew myself in the sense that I knew how I reacted to being with other people, but that seems to be only one aspect of it.  When it's just me... hanging out with myself, I can realize what I'm really like without everyone else's influence.


The other day a friend of mine posted that "loneliness is underrated." I think it's kind of true. I kind of like to be lonely sometimes.

Insomnia. And thoughts that don't make sense

I can't sleep. Maybe because I am too busy thinking. That's why people shouldn't think. Insomnia is a direct result. I hope this blog doesn't get you thinking. It probably won't.  

I am going to be really lame here and reference another social networking site while blogging. Ew. At least I am still not using Twitter, so I think we're in the clear.  You may have noticed that facebook changed the layout of how you view photos. You, like me, may have also noticed that it is ridiculously annoying.  We got new tills at work this week. They are touch screen and all fancy like.  I hated the old tills because they only worked like half the time, but I hate the new tills even more because they are...new.  Then, while thinking about how much I hate all these new earth shattering changes that are being thrust upon me, I realized that I don't like change much at all. Funny.


Maybe no one likes change much at all. Maybe that's why the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer. Maybe that's McDonalds has to spend months shoving propaganda down our throats that 'change is good' so that the general public wouldn't be outraged when they changed their nuggets from dark meat to white.  Maybe that's why I still work at second cup or why I don't like meeting new people.  Perhaps it's why people love to be a 'regular.'  Or why women have a hernia when grey hair appears.  Perhaps it is why people will stay in abusive relationships before risking venturing out on their own.


The thing I don't understand is that hating change so clearly seems to go against nature and everything our bodies are designed to do.  Take the seasons for example.  What would happen if they didn't change? Or our bodies... if our hair never grew or our skin never replaced itself... 
(you may notice that I am leaving these questions open ended... it's not because I am deep, but more so too lazy to think up a conclusion) 


When closing, it is key to link your explanation back to your thesis so as to make a strong point.

So why do we fight change? Why do we love being so dang comfortable?   I don't know, but it's probably the root of all evil or something.

Blogger's block

So when I started this blog I really liked it because I pretty was sure no one read it.  I could really be honest with myself and didn't have to worry about my punctuation or if I was being theologically correct. It was just me, raw... honest, me being layed out on a page in size ten times new roman.  Now, I know that most people start a blog so that people will follow them and read it and be inspired or something. That is, afterall, the point.  But ... as people have approached me and mentioned that they read my blog I suddenly feel at a complete loss for words.  All of a sudden everthing I say will not be good enough compared to the more eliquent 'bloggers' out there.  So that's why I haven't written.

Then I realized, I go through much of life like this... selling myself short.  Most of the friends I have now I have had since I was a child.   To them, I am Hilary-- Hilary who doesn't read, and listens to the top 40, is overly sarcastic and has a bit of a gossiping problem.  That 'Hilary' will never do anything extrodinary or say anything that changes someone's life.  I don't blame my friends for this, I blame the fact that my insecurities prohibit me from stepping outside of the rut I have created for myself among this group of people.  I hate to quote gossip girl (ever) because let's be honest, the show is a guilty pleasure.  However, I was watching the other day and right as two of the main character's are about to rekindle their long anticipated romance,  Blair says: " I have to be Blair Waldorf before I can be Chuck Bass' girlfriend." As much as I metaphorically throw up in my mouth a little everytime I hear 'shoot for the stars', or 'don't let anyone stop you from achieving your dreams' I guess I am tired of only being who people think I am.  

Here comes the God made you special speech... 
But seriously.
God didn't make the Hilary who lives in someone's shadow. He didn't count every hair on my head so I could never do anything.  I really don't know what I'm saying here, but... I think I'm being called to do more. I think we all are.  It's just way too easy not to.