andrea leigh.

who looks outside, dreams. who looks inside, awakes.

being an idealist dreaming comes naturally. the way things could be. should be. might have been. will be.

last wednesday brought on an unexpected academic identity crisis. it wasn't the day itself, rather a meeting with my philosopher (an previous professor that i claim as my own). we ended up talking about the next academic step. he said he never saw me in the social sciences. maybe in the humanities on the side of social sciences. i was relieved. i haven't fit in sociology very well. my interests and preferred methods make it difficult. he said i would have to look hard for a program that was my niche. he knew i wasn't looking very hard at schools. he suggested american studies. i said i was uncertain about teaching. he said then why would you get a phd. he said i needed to do some soul searching. i tried not to cry as i graded papers all afternoon and evening. i don't have time to do some soul searching right now. applications are due in december. i'm taking the GRE in a month. and i'm just keeping up with work for my own classes.

my women's studies professor was from that department. i stopped by her office the other day. she said KU has the oldest american studies program in the states. good reputation. well established. i looked it up online. joint masters with urban planning. like it was made just for me.

thursday i drove to lawrence to meet with a couple professors about continuing graduate school. eventually completing a phd. teaching and research. conferences. and grading. i was really nervous. this visit was going to determine if i was going to pursue a phd or not. if not then i don't know what. the drive seemed longer than usual. meetings went well. the program is perfect for me. flexible. interdisciplinary. pragmatic and academic. across the hall i heard graduate teaching assistants talking about feminism and country music. i fit in there. it's perfect. if i want to become a professor. and if i want to move to lawrence. i am interested but not enough.

on the drive home i couldn't help feeling like i have made no progress over the last four years. i know that's not true. it has transformed me in many ways. but i'm still asking what am i doing with my life. i went to school in a way to avoid that question. not entirely. just graduate school. i like school a lot. i want to be a student. but that is not why you get a phd. not to stay a student. and as long as i stay in school i don't have to find an answer to the question.

this afternoon i went out to harvest fest. a celebration of friends and fall. my dog got to run around in the woods. but i felt like i had to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't bothering anyone or eating the food. i was looking forward to being outside. with friends. i wanted to think and talk. work things out in my mind. i barely talked to anyone. once it got dark around seven i had to keep the dog on a leash. i tried to sit with him by the fire while everyone ate. i ended up leaving before the night hike, dramatic readings and poems, music. i was frustrated. i needed to come home. why does that always happen on nights like tonight?

i needed to do some soul searching.

don't let this fading summer pass you by.

i can't help but feeling this summer was a waste. i look back and wonder what i actually did with all my free time. i barely made a dent in my reading list. lost all momentum for my thesis. didn't even take photos for my project. but i thought about doing it. and talked about doing it.

a lot did happen this summer. nothing that really required much of my time. i went to canada. worked at a garden for five weeks. my grandpa died. my grandma fell breaking her wrist and cracking her pelvis. i thought i liked someone but he's gone now. i sat in on an amazing class but didn't even have to do any of the course work. enjoyed the company of friends from far away. i went to canada again. now i'm trying to get a room and furniture painted before school starts. which is in one week. one week. where did my summer go?

it seems as if i'm in the same place before summer flew by. with my thesis. still lacking focus and a few solid quesitons. with ideas about the future. still not sure i want to be a professor. with productivity. still have a roll of unfinished slide film in my camera. with relationships. still stuck in the same situaiton.

the lack of self-motivation is really embararssing. am i this dependent on structure and deadlines? is it bad that i thrive in that type of environment? or am i just over it? don't care enough to get things done on my own? or scared because i have no idea what i'm doing? or where to start? it's overwhelming. i know i'll get it done. i always do. but i don't want to just get by. i don't want to regret not putting everything into it. whether it's my research project. or friendships. or working on myself.

i think too much. sometimes i just need to do something. figure it out as i go along. it's good for me.

notes from the nature center.

today my environmental ethics class walked to the urban conservation discovery center. after a few brief stories about henry david thoreau and walden pond, we spent an hour or so walking, reading, and writing in the garden. the types of grasses, plants, and trees that are native to our region. i sat by the little marsh and wrote these notes:

if glory is the weight of divine presence or essence then the air today is glorious. suffocating but glorious. every day i come to understand more and more how the nature/culture dualism is detrimental to our health. the cartesian mind/body split. but our minds are embodied. and culture is embodied from the way we sit to the way we hold writing utensils, if we hold them at all. and with the hierarchy that is so prevalent in dualistic thinking we have exalted ourselves above the earth. we have made ourselves master over it. at times we exploit it. we attempt to contain it. to craft it. and shape it in the way we see fit. in a way that alienates us from ourselves and others. maybe we are threatened by its raw power. by its seeming thoughtlessness of us and our man-made structures.

"a lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. it is the earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature."

maybe in fact we are afraid to look deep into ourselves. we are afraid of what it might reveal in us. our weakness. fragility. dependence. the fact that we are in fact in control of very little. despite all of our planning. as educated and rational as it may be. we might also be afraid to face the depth of the human soul. what we are capable of becoming and creating. the beauty that we possess. the resilience of life.

what if progress was measure by the depth of character within us and not the height of our skyscrapers. or the span of our cities. but in how we treat our neighbor. because they are part of us. we shouldn't fear loneliness. we are never alone. we are surrounded by life. growth. creatures. movement. energy. we shouldn't fear loneliness but embrace solitude and community. when we take care of the land we take care of ourselves and other because we are one in the same. but we must see ourselves in the eye of the stranger and the reflection in the water. we must look deep for the interconnectedness of all things.

i don't believe our selves are out there waiting to be found. in a way i do think that bits of ourselves are scattered around time and space. but they are collected through experience. these parts of us that we discover haven't existed outside of us. but in those moments we discover something dormant within ourselves. through our experiences we create our selves. so we should live into the kind of beings we want to be and not expect to stumble across it one day down the road. we must live intentionally if we want to be fully human.

we are born and we die. and these shouldn't be done alone. despite the rugged individualism we romanticize in the west. we should be strong for one another. brave and courageous. looking at self and other in the eye searching the depths for authentic life and truth isn't easy. it involves trust. patience. compassion. vulnerability. commitment. grace. it's hard work that shouldn't be taken lightly or passively. but with expectation and joy. looking forward to what we will become together. as friends. as a community. as a city. and so on.

as simple as yes or no.

tomorrow morning i am supposed to meet a few friends to caravan to a town in southwest missouri to celebrate the fourth of july. our community of friends from kansas city will be arriving during the day. berry picking. farm tour. pig roast. friends playing folk music. the carnival in town. fireworks. some will be camping. i have known about this event for a while now. and i still have not decided if i'm actually going or not.

while discussing my indecisiveness with a friend she asked me if there was nothing in my way would i go. one word answer. i couldn't give a straight yes or no.

when faced with decisions involving being away from home anxiety weighs heavy in the back of my mind. it is something i deal with almost on a daily basis. some more or less than others. but it lingers. haunting my ideas of what is possible. it's hard to shake. i don't want to be a burden or an inconvenience especially if friends haven't experienced or witnessed an anxiety attack before. when i make big decisions it is a factor i consider at least on a subconscious level.

but sometimes i just don't want to go. like tonight i'm feeling introverted. introspective. i want to work some things out. a lot to process this summer. family. friends. future. and i feel the need to be alone and think for a while. these moods tend to come unannounced. unexpected. and they too are hard to shake.

the problem is i can't tell the difference sometimes. am i afraid to go or do i really just not want to? cause if it's fear then i need to push myself and go. if i'm just not in the mood then it's not an excuse. i just don't know which it is this time. and it seems every time an opportunity like this comes up i have the same dilemma. i don't want to go and then i have to figure out why to see if i should make myself go or not.

i realized that it's not as simple as yes or no. it's more that i wish i wanted to go. i see photos of friends camping. floating down a river. going to the lake. taking a long road trip. and i wish that i wanted to do those things. i think i want to. but when it comes to actually doing it i don't. and i don't think it's just because i love my home or the city. i think it's more about maintaining a certain internal balance. balance that has been hard to find the last few weeks.

i don't want to wake up one morning and say "i used to be a lot of fun."

the body of christ broken for you. his blood shed on your behalf.

one sunday evening my friend asked if i would serve communion in his place. after service he thanked me. and i thanked him in return and added that it was in fact what i needed that evening. i really love serving communion. sharing a sacrament with a stranger. looking the other in the eye and acknowledging we have more similarities than differences. in a small way being apart of their personal moment of faith. it's good for me. because i have many doubts. and these days it seems i have more questions than answers. more abstract uncertainties than grounded truths. more darkness than illumination. over the past month i've come across two quotes that put my feelings about communion into words more simply and beautifully than i have attempted to do here.

ronald rolheiser:
but i go to eucharist daily too for another reason, a more personal one: this is the one place where i can be faithful, where i can essentially measure up. i can't always control how i feel or how i think and i can't always measure up morally and spiritually, but, inside of my perpetual inadequacy and occasional doubt and confusion, i can be faithful in this one deep way. i can go to the eucharist regularly.

marilyn mcentyr:
we navigate those bafflements best when we cling to our "sure and certain hope" - that we are held firmly in our seeking by one who will not let us go - and when we share the eucharist that nourishes us even in our darkest uncertainties."