-

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

Silence.

At times I think silence can be the most torturous thing. We can make words what we want them; twist them to our liking, but we cannot do this with silence. Silence can mean anything, but it can also mean nothing. Hearing nothing more than the echo of your own voice when you're anticipating a response might very well be one of the more frustrating conclusions of the human experience.  Perhaps from God we take silence as an invitation to take the reigns and attempt to seek liberation by our own means. However, when received from a person, we only become more curious. We seek more, we are offended - we pry until we know what they're thinking and why they won't share that with us. And if nothing else, we are at least more careful as to how we go about acting around them post-silence. How come with God when we hear nothing we don't assume that he'll answer our cries in his timing. How come we act as children with parents on vacation and step into the drivers seat? 

Things are Wrapping Up, All of a Sudden

All of a sudden my profs are saying things like: "two more classes left..." and "as the year wraps up..."
Wow.
Really? ... Already?


This year's been a whirlwind. It's been filled with all the things a school year could be, really.  Firstly, growth. I don't feel like the same person who left Alberta eight months ago.  Class taught me more than I thought was even out there to learn, and God's taught me even more. Things about myself, things about others, and things about the world and my role in it. With growth comes tears, and heartbreak; feeling uncomfortable, and missing the familiar. But I'm thankful for it all. I'm thankful for the people I've encountered and the lessons that weren't learned the easy way.  

Dirty windshield; perfect view
[See you soon, Mountains]

& did you know that
maple tress are for real?

Toronto is quite a lovely place
to call my almost home

Part of me looks forward to summer. Familiar friends and free rent; can't be so bad, right? But maybe a little part of me ran away. Maybe a little part of me isn't so much looking forward to trying to fit new Hilary into old Hilary's shoes. Thoughts of what people will think eat away at me.  I feel like an entirely different person in some ways, and I don't know how it'll look when I attempt to step back into the life I left behind last September.

Summer Adventures in March

Life’s good today.

The perfect amount of warmth. Crispy shoulders and sun burnt knees. Biking and more biking. I like today.

I woke up this morning to the face of a lovely friend. We stopped for an early coffee and bagels, and then sat at a waterfall and had one of those wonderful talks that will probably still impact your life five years from now. Psalm 139 guided our discussion, and where friends are reading the Bible together – things are good.

My classes finished by 1:00pm and it was not the sort of day to be inside. So I rode my bike back to that waterfall, and now I am just being - simply existing and loving each moment as it passes. I think these moments are what life is all about… what busyness robs us of. I have novels to read and tests to study for, but I have the perfect moment all around me, and I’m not going to do anything but sit here and exist in it.

"Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of the earth, overlaying our hard hearts." 

- Charles Dickens

India

I haven’t written yet about India. I’m not sure why. I think it’s because I’m still processing everything I learned. I don’t know how to do it justice in a few words. It was unreal.

Here’s an attempt - but know that my literary skills severely inhibit me from having the ability to convey how much I was impacted over reading break.

If I was to take one “thing” that impacted me about my short time in India it is that I found the experience very humbling. My idea of serving the poor was entirely off. I think I had this North American ideal that I would walk around, hand each person 10 rupees, make their day and walk away feeling like a wonderful Christian University student who was bettering the world. But what about when there’s someone begging every two steps you take? What about the fact that there is a good possibility that the person you hand the money to isn’t actually the person getting it? …When you feel like all your efforts to help are contributing to a greater problem. I don’t have the solution. And here’s the real question: if I did, would I be doing anything about it anyways?

I hate to make my trip overview sound like a depression session, because despite the hard things I saw I came away with a general sense of encouragement and hope for India. I spent most of my time (well, all of my time that I wasn’t stuck in airports) at the organization that my sister has been working with for several months, Metropolitan Mission. This reminded me that God is working amongst such poverty. Every village we went into we were welcomed with smiling faces, flower garlands, and usually a meal. India knows how to do hospitality! Another thing I found was their incredible emphasis on prayer. It didn’t seem like an “add on” to their lives; in many cases in was undoubtedly the centre, where they legitimately placed their hope.

Religion in general seems to be celebrated much more blatantly in India (at least from what I saw). A majestically decorated temple sits right beside a catholic church and at both places people come to cry out to God in worship, and they don’t seem to be concerned with offending each other.  I’m not necessarily saying this is better or worse, because I think our culture in North America overall just doesn’t respond to blatant acts of any type of expression well, but at the same time I found it interesting and kind of found it intriguing that people with such fundamental differences had learned to live in harmony.

I’ve considered both scrapping and revising this blog about five times now; it all seems so trivial when I write it down - like such an impersonal way of explaining the impacts I experienced. But I suppose it’s start. More to come. Maybe. 

4 hours to India

Funny how life works, isn't it? After writing about the peace I felt about my visa, it came just a few days later. Which (fast-forward) brings me to the present... 

I leave for the airport in 4 hours to go to India. 

Once again I have that familiar feeling of my toes dangling over the edge, I'm about to jump, but fear sets in. Why is it that we get apprehensive when it's too late to turn back? The knot in your stomach doesn't form before you buy the plane ticket. No, it forms when you have no choice but to over come it. 

"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." 

That verse has been a great comfort to me today. Because Christ's strength is infinite, therefore that minimizes all the fears that attempt to immobilize me. Horror stories of other people's bad travel experiences haunt me, but when I think about having the strength of God within me, that seems so trivial.  All I'm doing is getting on a plane and waiting out a few layovers. What is that really in the grand scheme of things? Trivial.

So now, once again, I get ready to jump.  

Best friends with my Backpack.

I decided to mix up my font today. I hope you like it. If not, too bad - I like it. 


Each day I eagerly check my mail, and each day nothing comes. Well, things come - but not what I am waiting for. All is irrelevant when I don't see the package I await from the Indian consulate. I am waiting for a particular important person to put a particular visa in my passport and send it back to me so my adventure can begin. Those who sit beside me in lectures have the unfortunate distraction of watching a chipmunk dance on my computer screen while I browse plane tickets, something I prefer to have on the forefront of my mind while the prof drags on about a novel written before civilization.  It's like I'm cheating on my beloved backpack if I'm not planning something we can do together soon. I don't think other people wanderlust as much as I do; and if they do, they are less blatant about it. If I don't have an upcoming trip I start to get this claustrophobic feeling - as though I am trapped. Trapped and trip-less. The worst! 

So I still don't have a visa to India. (My next destination of choice). I would ideally like to leave Friday. Friday, 6 days from now, Friday. Yes, that Friday. However, despite me losing heart in some senses about my departure date creeping up and me remaining immobilized to hurry the process up, I am overwhelmed by peace. My stress coping tactics are slim to nil, being an overall stressless person is great, until you have to deal with something... and then you have zero practice. I generally like to handle such situations with a little cry and then brief hyperventilation session.  Doesn't solve much. But this time, this time is different. One thing I know for certain, it's not me getting any better at handling stress. Or maybe it is... because instead of trying to handle it on my own, I finally realized I can't. And I let somebody else. Sometimes I feel like a 4 year old... "no mom, I can do it" which is usually followed by the child spilling something all over themselves. However, finally just allowing God to step in is remarkably freeing. (Probably should have figured this out sooner, eh?). So now, no visa - no India. That's okay. Visa- India. Also okay [well, more than okay... freaking awesome!].