Homes

I'm discovering the problems with being a student so far from home. Alot of my friends are close enough that they are able to visit family over the weekends. This is a luxury, although many people are confused; why would you want to go home? You have all this freedom, you can do whatever you want, you should be living it up.
Well the thing is, home keeps us balanced. College engulfs us into this little world, this seperated community of young adults and new experiences. Already the recent past (like summer) seems distant. And it is refeshing to have people see you for who you are right now; they judge and value you according to the character they see now, rather than remembrances or stereotypes of the past. But we are still incomplete. A part of our identity is still found at home.
People view my situation of being far from home very differently, depending on where they are in life. Students here comment that it's too bad I can't visit my family so often, and gave me weird looks when I mentioned I might not have gone home for November break. People from home, on the other hand, questioned why I am coming home in November when I am already coming home in December. Is college supposed to be like this? Should we be this seperated from our family and friends that we almost forget our past? Sometimes I feel like I am on a deserted island, that I shouldn't be emailing let alone visiting family and friends while I am a college student. I know that right now my place is here in college, but my home is still in Canada. I still have a house that holds my bed, with my blankets, with my strewn papers around the room that have yet to be cleaned up. Right now I am finding my independance and learning to live on my own, but I am still connected to those places and to family and friends. They hold parts of my identity, and I will not be complete until I see them again.
Im excited to visit home again. It will give me a chance to miss college and my community here in Houghton.

This is how time goes by

Well, it's officially fall now. To commemerate such an event, here are some pictures.

Running with the Squirrels

There are a lot of critters on this campus. My friend Joy, running to make her class, had a close encounter by shocking one of the squirrels here, and they ended up taking a light jog together near the forest. After a moment, he realized that a turn would lead him to the safety of the nearby trees and away from this lumbering giant (Joy doesn't lumber like a giant, but to a squirrel this is a reality).
Sometimes my reactions to surprising experiences are similar to the squirrel's shock. My response is to just keep running in the same direction, to take action without thinking, until some profound moment of grace hits me with opportunity. Instead of trying to outrun the giant that is taking over my thoughts, and focusing on how surprised I am, I need to turn and redirect myself. At college, it is easy to get lost in stress, relationships, social activities, homework, etc. We live in our little world, just like the squirrels live in their little forest of Houghton, where everything (other than a mall) is set up for us. What needs to happen is some redirection, or a re-focusing, so we can keep growing. We need surprising incidents to keep us on our toes, so that when we do turn back into our little world, we bring change and new knowledge.
It's nice to get off of campus, as everytime we leave we get a jolt of reality- a reminder that there is a heck of a lot more in God's creation that we will be experiencing.

And so it is

I suppose it might get boring to listen to someone who is in college; it's all that they talk about. It's a mini life seperated from the rest of the world, and yet it's a full life varying from the silliest to the deepest moments. One thing I've noticed in myself is the way my writing and my voice changes from classes and the cafeteria. For example, I had a math assingment to be written out in paragraph form (I didn't know this process existed), and it sounded archaic. I was using words like 'indeed' and 'therefore', and threw in an 'alas' for good measure. That was my voice in writing homework, my voice in the cafeteria is a little more modern. We talk about things like existentialism (which I didn't know existed until recently; look it up and then watch Run Lola Run), and rolling pennies and using mentos as explosives. It varies with the amount of sleep one recieves.
But then there is another voice, and it isn't designated to classes or the the cafeteria. It's the voice that listens. I suppose that's an oxymoron, but it's true. When you listen, your voice changes. Already there have been deep, personal conversations on this campus. There have been moments of profound joy, from listening to hymns in a chapel to watching movies in dorms, and moments of complete despair (those first days were hell). In each of those moments, the voice of listening changed me from a college-student-finding-her-way to a child of God. In the moments that I really listen, I can see the blessings and challenges from God, and it is in those moments that I am changing.

Take this in good heart

I was really upset to learn that Steve Irwin, the renowned Crocdile Hunter, has died. Subconciously I had viewed him as an immortal, and that his brushes with death were just that....brushes. I'm more upset over the fact that he has left behind a family. Little tots. Thus, here is my eulogy:
Steve. You have lived life to the fullest, embracing adventures in God's creation. Many animals will probably remember you. Many people will probably not forget you. You rode an elephant to a movie theatre. I remember that. May God bless what you have brought into this world; the enthusiasm for learning and growing and taking risks. May God also be with what you have left behind; may your family find peace and comfort with your passing. And may we, the faithful media-stricken audience, always remember you as the legend of the Crocodile Hunter.

1 Week Away

It's amazing how long one week can be. Some summer camps are about that much; in one week we make friends, take pictures, and laugh and cry and share unusual experiences. In one week of college, things have gone slower. I've certainly done enough for one week; set up a mini-home, work, study, socialize, eat, sleep... and yet a week away from home is not what it used to be. At camp you had a new best friend by the second day, and you forgot about responsibilities and time management. In college, time passes to fast or not fast enough, depending on the situation, and the people you hung out with at the beginning of the week are barely seen anymore. I always hated the 'cliques' in highschool, but now I see that a 'core' group is a natural process. We branch out after we have secured ourselves with people we relate best to. Only then can we best relate ourselves to everyone else that we meet.
One week of being 3 thousand miles from home, surrounded by fellow students, and not knowing a soul... this changes a person.