I Spy Beauty...

A (sometimes) weekly post of beauty seen, heard or discovered

At the beginning of this year, I had every intention to get into blogging a couple of times a week. I was going to get serious with my writing. Well, I am doing that. But some other things have come up too.

While I have been struggling along making sense of this chaotic and crazy and beautiful and mean life recently, I have also started postgraduate study in Creative Writing.

I having been struggling to notice beauty. But this week I found great encouragement, strength and light in the creative work of others.

Sarah Bessey has a way with words that constantly breathes new life into me. This week her blog entitled "In which you are a beloved warrior" was timely and needed.

Parker J. Palmer wrote a guest post called "An Encouragement for Spring and the Writing Life" at OnBeing. While it is now Autumn here is Australia, I am over the metaphorical winter in my life and am expectantly holding out for some spring. 

Amy Stroup is a Indie Singer/Songwriter out of Nashville I have been following for a few years now. Her new album Tunnel (you can listen to it over on The Drop) is just what I've come to expect from Amy- diverse lyrically and musically, soulful and easy to listen to. I've also had an oldie 'Hold onto hope love', from The Other Side of Love Sessions stuck in my head.

On virginity

I have spent the last few hours researching and reading about ideas of virginity and purity for an article I am working on. And I have to say that there is some seriously disturbing stuff out there!

Having come from the evangelical Christian sub-culture and knowing its philosophy on such a subject, I still find it to hold to some of the most dangerous and damaging beliefs about sexuality. Just try watching the documentary The Virgin Daughters.

But I am still struggling to get my head around what it really means to people today in our progressive western culture.

So I need some help….

I would love for people to comment below, anonymously of course(!), about how you would define virginity and whether you think it still holds significant weight- for good or bad- in today’s culture. And if you’ve read or watched anything about the topic you think is particularly interesting mention that too.

Thanks!

I Spy Beauty...

A (sometimes) weekly post about beauty seen, heard or discovered

I am awake again in the in-between. That time in the early hours between darkness and sunrise. That blurry-eyed time when we glimpse the hope of light, but have not yet thrown off the cover of darkness fully.

I have been here a lot lately. It is a tiring place to be. Being awake in the darkness is troubling. There are moments when it feels like it might never end, like the morning might never come. When you are tired from the struggle for rest and freedom, anything can feel endless, hopeless.

And yet, the light comes every day without fail. First, gradually. Slivers of light and shadow begin to ease the weight of darkness. It is an uncomfortable tension between despair and hope. Do we dare to hope for sunrise?

The in-between is a time of questions. The darkness has stripped away much of what we knew, giving us permission to ask. It is a time of wondering and wandering in the half-light.

And then with a blaze of glory, all of sudden it seems, we are overwhelmed by the shining light of the sun and the weight lifts. A new day. A new beginning. With the light of the sun comes a lightness of spirit, the feeling that we can try again. To live and love and not be overcome.

There's a moment when
Faith caves in
There's a time when every soul is certain God is gone

But every shadow is evidence of sun
And every tomorrow holds out hope for us
For every one of us
'Sunrise' Nichole Nordeman Copyright 2007

Good morning. And thank God for the sunrise.

The blog about sex

Neither my housemate Rachel, nor I could sleep the other morning and so we ending up talking about sexuality…. as you do. Now of course there is a context. She is currently taking a summer school subject on gender and sexuality. We don’t just randomly talk about sex a lot!

But the reality is that I have found myself having a lot of conversations with girlfriends lately about sex. About femininity. About the words we use around sex and sexuality. About marriage and sex. About masturbation. About cultural expectations surrounding sex- in the Christian culture bubble and the wider culture around us. About the conflicting nature of so much discourse around women and sex- especially in the church.

That’s normal, right?

I have spent most of my twenties (and the so far small part of my thirties) living in houses with other young women. But strangely these recent conversations are largely the most open and honest I’ve ever had. And my Christian friends usually agree. It is like we finally feel the permission to be frank with each other and be brave in speaking from our hearts about issues that are so deeply embedded in our identities and self worth. And this is the case whether or not we are single (as I am) or in relationships.

But it strikes me as deeply sad that up until now I have felt unable to speak and question and travel this road together with my fellow sisters. And I have a suspicion that I’m not alone in feeling this way.

The reality I’m discovering is that you can’t talk about your body and identity and value as women without talking about sex. Yes, that is a blindingly obvious point. But how did all my youth pastors and leaders manage to talk about these things without really addressing our female sexuality! The unspoken message that I seemed to absorb over my adolescence was that sex and sexuality was off limits unless you were married… and even then it was a very private, sanitised discussion. Sex outside of marriage- in word or deed- was bad, not good.

I bought into and believed this to be the righteous way (don’t worry, saying that makes me throw up a little in my mouth too).

Thankfully I am an unstoppable questioner. Studying Anthropology I was instilled with a deep understanding of the need to deconstruct my own understandings of culture and belief in order to engage in the world more authentically. So as I got older I became more uncomfortable with the tension between the Church’s clean, sanitised version of sexuality and their seeming obsession with it (sometimes it seems that the sin of sex outside of marriage is worse than all others). And don’t get me started on the fact that the gospels alone talk far more about compassion and grace and social justice than it ever does about sex, as far as I can tell!

And if sex and sexuality is off limits, is not good, than why when I began to talk with girlfriends more openly, did I begin to feel free? As my friends and I began to talk over our questions, feelings and concerns, we began to hear each other and realise we were not alone in being Christian women who were unwilling to accept the stories we had been told. And we began to feel more alive.

If genuine Christian community and fellowship is about sharing our lives, does that not mean our whole lives? If talking about our sexuality and femininity helps us embrace our true identities as women created by God, then is that not the best thing we can be doing?!

There is so much more I want to explore and discuss. I want to understand how it is we got to where we are and how we can move forward more authentically. So I am thinking that I would like to start a blog series on sexuality.

And in thinking that, I will.

However in truth – as I attempt to organise my thoughts on this topic - I am faced with the seemingly impossible task of ending this blog. So as she instigated this journey into all things sexual…I thought it was only fitting to get Rachel's very eloquent closing thoughts on a way forward…

“As we wade our way through countless books dictating the truths of sex, open our ears to the truths and lies society screams rather loudly at us, sip our way through cups of coffee talking with girlfriends, and pray over what being a female in this sexualised - and in many ways sexually oppressed - world means to us… Maybe the conclusions we come to will be eloquent enough to provide some clarity on the subject that is ‘sex’! “

I Spy Beauty...

A (sometimes) weekly post of beauty seen, heard or discovered

I have about 5 half-written blogs sitting on my computer. Not to mention the document that is just called ‘Random thoughts’ that has pages of unfinished, unedited computer scribblings.

My brain is awash with confusion and hope. Uncomfortableness and happiness. Frustration and joy. I’m in a very in-between kind of place.

And I’m in a waiting period at the moment. Waiting around means a lot of procrastination. Baking. Friends reruns watching. YouTube surfing.

There’s lots of beauty to be found on YouTube.

Earlier this week I was having a particularly unproductive day and that was getting me down. Until I watched this….



If you haven’t seen any of the Kid President clips before, may I suggest you go and watch a bunch more. This boy and his cousin have a big heart and vision for changing the world…. and they’re doing it!

We all need beautiful reminders like this now and again!

And if you ever need a little pep talk watch the video that made Kid President famous, here.

And hopefully I'll finish one or two of those blogs real soon....

I'm Alison and I'm a recovering creative

I came home from an Artist’s Way meeting last night on an incredible high. I felt at home. I felt I was exactly where God wanted me. I felt alive.

I have missed community. I have missed connecting on that deeper level with others in an intentional way. A group of women, sitting together in a living room, sipping wine, sharing stories, laughing and listening to each other.

I woke up this morning and slammed straight into a wall of self-loathing and a head full of ‘you’re a pathetic human who can’t get your shit together’ trains of thought.

Ouch.

But I’m pretty sure they are related.

I have spent much of my life running from my creativity or just denying it even exists. I wrote prolifically as a child and well into my teens. I wrote stories and poetry, journalled almost everyday from thirteen to eighteen and sporadically through my twenties. But as I grew older the writing got darker and more hopeless. I think I really stopped writing because it required me to engage and acknowledge what I was feeling or struggling with emotionally and mentally. And even though I saw counsellors, psychologists and doctors throughout my twenties I, for various reasons, worked on my recovery and mental health at arms length. Writing was too painful, and I suspect, would have required harder work than I thought possible.

But I began to change that story a while ago when, in the midst of a breakdown, I chose to acknowledge my creativity and see it as a means to recovery. I eventually quit my job in order to explore what it would look like to be a ‘writer’ for a living. And in recent months I have made serious attempts to engage with my creativity in intentional ways- including joining a group to work through The Artist’s Way together and reading various other books on creativity.

Through this intentional work though, deep emotions and thought processes that I have been hiding from and that remain unresolved, have reared their ugly heads time and again. Every time I make progress in embracing my gifts and moving forward with the work I feel called to do, the enemies of self-doubt, perfectionism and self-sabotage march in fast.

So this morning as soon as I’d finished my morning cup of tea and bowl of cereal, I found myself lying curled up on the couch feeling rather sorry for myself and wondering how on earth to get up again. But my kind housemate made me a cup of tea and told me to get up and write something, anything, anyway.

And so here we are.

Being creative is scary. Living the life we were given well is scary. Having to live with the reality of my emotions and moods and the general chaos of our existence is hard work. But I’m learning that if I want a meaningful and free life then choosing to be creative, and in the process embracing that reality, is the only way.

In her book A Million Little Ways, Emily P. Freeman says:

“Christ is in you and wants to come out through you in a million little ways- through your strength and also your weakness, your abilities and also your lack.

I call it art, someone else calls it rubbish.

So what?

Call it what you will. God calls us his poem. And the job of the poem is to inspire. To sing. To express the full spectrum of human experience- both the bright hope that comes with victory and the profound loss that accompanies defeat.

We must make art, even in our weakness. If we don’t, we are denying ourselves, in turn, we will deny everyone else ourselves as well.” (page 168)

I want to be brave. I want to choose to be creative. I want to choose to pay attention to this life I’m living.

So I got up and wrote this blog post.

Words for Wednesday

Watching for tadpoles

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Mary Oliver 'Sometimes' in Red Bird (2008)

Words and I

No words.

So many thoughts

conflicting emotions

overwhelming chaos.

No words.

For the pain I see

in others, in me

in the world.

Words

are the only way

to make sense

to pray

to begin to tell the stories

that need to be heard.

Words.

A blank page.

My voice

is all I have.

Words

To give.

Words for Wednesday

 "You want to know the meaning of life? This is your highest calling: You are called into the dynamic co-creation of the cosmos. This breath is your canvas and brush. These are the raw materials for your art, for the life you are making. Nothing is off limits. Your backyard, your piano, your paintbrush, your conversation, Rwanda, New Orleans, Iraq, your marriage, your soul. You're making a living with every step you take."
- Jon Foreman (Quoted in A Million Little Ways by Emily P. Freeman, pg. 11)

2014

BRAVE

When my one word for 2014 first came to me, I blew it off. It couldn’t be my word, it was too close to fearless my word for 2013.

But it kept coming back to me. Brave.

And I realised that it was actually a profoundly logical step.

Fearless is working to stop the power of a negative feeling or action. Brave is taking a positive step forward, it's taking a risk. In my mind, one word is rooted in the negative and the other in the positive.

As someone who has lived bound in the negative for so much of my life, I long for, I crave, the positive. I am desperate for forward motion in my days. And I know that the likelihood is that I’m my own worst enemy in this regard.

So I need a reminder. Something to push me beyond myself. Something to spur me on in my seeking to be authentic. And the year of fearless was quite successful. Bloody hard, but as far as personal growth goes, successful. So what if I choose to take the positive step. What if my #ONEWORD365 was: Brave?

And I’m already planning a couple of risk taking adventures…

Applying for graduate study

Maybe taking a trip outside Australia

Hopefully finding new work

Possibly getting involved in a new church

(With a little trepidation) I look forward to what 2014 has in store for me and where God might be moving in my life.

I'll let you know!