Commuting.


The commuter life raises so many questions for me.
Which one of you head-phoned fellows is listening to the really heavy metal?
Is it awkward to you that we keep accidentally brushing our arms against each other, so faintly we could both ignore it?
What is it about Wednesdays at 5:00 that make my commute a standing one until 5 stops til home?
Do you realize, Scott from Best Buy, that you are seriously compromising your security by wearing that shirt with all your info on the front? Name tags. They’re removable. Protect yourself from us.
Does anyone else feel like this driver is going a little faster than usual? Talk about getting jerked around.
I had three cups of coffee today, so I’m even more dismayed than usual that I can’t have these conversations with my fellow commuters.
Maybe someday headphones will go out of style.

Questions and flowers.


Sometimes the inter-webs disappoint me. I clicked “publish” a few minutes ago on a lovely post about waffeln and walking, and I got an error message.

Oh, WordPress, why do you do this to me? Why didn’t you save my lovely post? In it, I justified my excessive sugar intake for today with my many kilometers of walking and explained that I did so much walking because I’m afraid of wiping out on the tram tracks, in which my tires have a tendency to get caught. I have not had said wipe out yet, and I’m unwilling to have it.

As lovely as it was to write that post once, I’m not inclined to do it again. Let’s try something new.

The season of blooming is officially in Graz. Green keeps popping up everywhere, and I keep finding new bits in me. Do you ever look at yourself and see something totally new? Or do you ever see the same weeds you thought you already pulled cropping up again? Does the whiff of a flower that used to be familiar but hasn’t been around for a while ever come back around?

Then you have to step back and look at the whole garden all over again. Are there more weeds? Did that one invite friends? Where does this flower fit in the grand scheme of things? Do I need to move it to make my garden as beautiful as it can be? How did that even get here?

Do you ever have more questions than answers?

Realusion.


I know that’s not a word.  It’s a portmanteau.  (if you don’t know what that means, google it and add it to your vocabulary – like I just did – it will greatly enrich your life.)

I have small realizations all the time.  Like the one day when my twin cousins turned 15, and I realized that I really wasn’t that much older than them.  I think that when they were born I felt older than a three and a half year old, more important, more special, so I misgauged the age gap for quite a while.  Also, I had this idea in my head for most of elementary and middle school that though I aged, no one else did.  Just Brooke and my classmates.  Everybody else stayed the same age, in my mind.

I bet you age too.

Weird.

I realized that I only have two weeks before I get to go home for Christmas break, when finals and all the joyful work they bring (just a little bit of fake enthusiasm there, just a little) will be over.  Then again, that means that I only have two weeks to cram all this work into.

I’ve been realizing over the past few years that my passion is really for writing, communicating, etc, combined with a mission for justice for the oppressed.  I’ve realized that I want to partner with God in raising up those that are usually pushed down.

None of theses realizations have come with much clarity.  The realization that I was just 3 1/2 years older than those girls brought some significant cognitive dissonance that I’ll need to work through.  The realization that I only have two weeks left meant I have to figure out how to fit things in – it didn’t tell me how to.

I’ve realized the type of thing I want to be involved with – but that doesn’t give me step-by-step instructions for the rest of my life.

Sometimes, realizations just lead to more confusion.  Realusion.  But then that stage leads to asking questions and seeking answers.  So then (hopefully) some clarity comes.  Jesus is pretty darn good at bringing answers just when you came to the end of all of your wrong ones.

I’ve had some realusions.  You probably have too.  well, I know this now, but I don’t know what to do with it. I bet God wants it.

Just saying.