A Holistic Ideal

Raising Questions...again.

2006-12-08T01:42:00.000-06:00

It's been a semester. I have made it through an entire semester. I read over the posts on this blog tonight. And I saw it, I actually saw it. Growth.

That's right, growth. The memories tied to each of my blog posts show me this semester so clearly. And I see questions. I see getting answers. I see myself realizing that those answers are wrong.

So as I leave this, my third semester of college, behind me. I find myself leaving with more questions than I started with. I begin this semester thinking that I would find answers to my questions, but I only found more questions. And for once, I'm okay with that. I don't need to find the answers.

I think I might keep posting to this blog. This Providence experience is giving me too many questions not to chronicle this.

I'm raising questions. Again. And it's wonderful.

The Eleventh Hour.

2006-12-06T23:51:00.000-06:00

I'm now in my eleventh hour of my fall 2006 semester here at Providence. I'm about to give up the ghost. Two papers. Two projects. Final Exams. All that remains. It's relieving. But also a bit sad. The end of something of is always a bit bitter sweet.

I had a meeting with my resident director this morning. We meet for an hour every week to discuss my RA role. We talked about seeing things in my dorm coming to fruition. That's how I feel about the coming semester. I want to see my work come to fruition. I want all that I have learned in this semester to create something wonderful next semester.

It's like planting that tiny little seed, and working so hard to nurture it, and then finally seeing it bloom.

I want my semester at Prov to bloom.

Overflowing.

2006-12-05T23:14:00.000-06:00

I firmly believe that the human mind is only meant to hold so much information. My brain is now filled to capacity. Facts, figures, dates, papers, and exams have filled every corner of my mind. There is no room for anything else. Even the simple tasks of walking and eating now feel ridiculously complicated to me. Assignment upon assignment has been due in the past couple weeks which leads me to a question. How far can I push myself? Where is my limit?

It seems almost insane to me all the academic work I have done over the course of the past few days. Every spare moment was spent sitting in my room, at my desk, feverishly typing, reading or writing. And at times I like to think I'm invincible, that I can handle it all. No assignment is too hard. No paper too lengthy. But then, when it all piles up in front of me, I wonder, "Can I actually do this?"

Maybe that's a part of Prov's service to students. To push them to their limits. To make us question our own sanity. Because if we aren't pushed to the limit, if we don't ask the question "Can I really handle all this?", how will we ever discover our full potential?

Sweet Silence.

2006-12-04T10:25:00.000-06:00

Winter, in all its terrible wrath, has come to Manitoba. Two weeks ago the ground was a dry, tundra brownish green. But, in the course of about a week, roughly two feet of snow blankets the ground. Because of the lack of trees out here in the middle of nowhere, winter is quite unpleasant most of the time. Cold, windy, icy, and painful are some of the most commonly used adjectives.

However, last night was a beautiful exception. Tiny snowflakes were gently falling to the ground. The air was still as the wind finally took a break. And the sky was fully clouded over, locking in the little bit of heat that was left on the earth. It was actually lovely to be outside.

I was walking back to dorm with a friend when he suddenly stopped. "Look." I looked out to the field where he was gesturing and it was all white, completely still, and awe inspiring. There was total silence. I took a deep breath in. Silence has never felt so good.

I fill up my life here at school with a lot of noise. I'm constantly going somewhere or doing something. I'm always listening to music or have my noise in a book. But why? Why can't I love the silence as much as I love the noise? Society and the media that I hope to work in someday does not value silence.

I want to learn what silence is and how to use it.

Unresolved.

2006-12-01T12:47:00.000-06:00

Last night I had the lovely privilege to take in a play at the Manitoba Theater Center. Orpheus Descending by Tennessee Williams. I have to say that it was completely and totally brilliant. The stage design, the lighting, the costuming, and the acting was amazing. Though I had read some of Tennessee Williams plays, I had never read or even heard of Orpheus Descending.

The play focused a lot on the theme of death. Death seemed to be everywhere in this play. The leading lady's husband was on his death bed, her father had been murdered long ago, even the child she once carried was killed through abortion. Even though the play did show death a lot, it was not about death. It was about life. It was the raw human struggle between darkness and light. To stare at death, whether physical or emotional, and declare, "No! This is life. This will not be the end, I will not have it. I will live! I want death to hear me living as it comes for me."

What I think I loved most about the play was that it was passionate, messy, and it did not resolve. There was no happy ending. As I left the theater, descending the gray balcony steps, I didn't know how I was supposed to feel...and I loved it. I loved it because this play seemed to be a grand metaphor for my life. It's passionate, messy, and it doesn't resolve. Life doesn't have clean cut edges. Life doesn't fit into a box. And neither does my experience here at Prov. I want to have clean cut beginnings and ends. I want lessons all wrapped up in neat little packages. But that's not what this experience is like; it's messy and it doesn't resolve. That was the beauty of the play, and that is the beauty of my Providence existence.

Another's shoes.

2006-11-28T22:22:00.000-06:00

Never say never. That is a lesson that I have been learning lately. Often, I find myself looking at people or talking with people and in my head thinking "Why would they do that?" or "If I was in that position, I would not do that." I can't even understand why people do what they do sometimes.

But then, I'm in that same position, and I find myself making the exact same decision that I criticised. It's strange. I suppose it's easy to say what I would or wouldn't do from an objective opinion.

Life is subjective.

Black Friday.

2006-11-24T22:33:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was American Thanksgiving. The one day set aside every year to spend time to count our blessings and break bread with loved ones. It's a time of peace and quiet contemplation.

That was yesterday. Today is the day after Thanksgiving. It's Black Friday. Gone is the peace and quiet contemplation. Today is all about one thing: consumerism. Yes, that's right, sales everywhere and people lining up in front of stores before the sun has even risen. The holiday season has officially begun in the good ol' USA.

It's rather ridiculous. The holiday season is supposed to be about the "meaningful" things in life. Yet, somehow North American culture it's about wrapping, money, fancy gifts...and the "meaningful" things. I wonder how these two seem to exist so peacefully in this culture.

Perhaps consumerism and those warm fuzzy feelings can co-exist?

Unread Letters. Part Two.

2006-11-23T19:20:00.000-06:00

Thanks to a comment I recieved on my blog entry, "Unread Letters" this morning I've discovered I'm not the only one who writes letters that nobody will ever read.

On a blog titled "Post Secret", people are encouraged to create postcards with their "unread notes" and "secrets" and mail them to an address in Maryland. This guy posts them on his blog for the world to read and see. Here's a couple of examples.

Not only does this website exist, but a whole bookful of these postcards has been published. Apparently, there are lot of people out there who want to say things, but are too scared to really see them.

The Real World?

2006-11-22T09:13:00.000-06:00

I'm writing this blog entry as I sit in one of my classes. I'll confess that I am only half listening to the professor.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this whole concept of Christian higher education. I chose a Christian college because I thought it would help me to intergrate my faith with my future. I can look around this classroom and see the limitless potential of these co-eds to do great things. Here is a college full of strong, confident, capable people and a world outside of us in need of help. But I feel like, at times, Prov is stiffling this pontential. That Prov is limiting the potential of its students.

We aren't exposed to the reality of world outside us. We live inside this tiny bubble, and we become so preoccupied with what is happening inside this little world that we forget that there is life outside of Prov. Instead of focusing on the needs of the outside world, we draw in. We see ourselves. We see our own future. We become...selfish.

At lunch last week, I was sitting with a friend who is in her final year here. She looked around the busy cafeteria and said to me, "Look at this. Look at all this potential. And look how we are spending our time. We crowd around tables and talk about exams, we flirt with the opposite sex, and we think this is the ultimate college experience. I can't wait to get out of here."

At times, I can't say I blame her. Sometimes I want to grab people by the shoulders, shake them, and say "This is not reality!" It's not, and I hate it. Even worse, I buy into this shallow lifestyle as much as anyone...and I hate myself for that.

Where is reality? And how do I get there?

Unread Letters.

2006-11-18T18:44:00.000-06:00

I have discovered a new "hobby" of sorts. I've taken up the old fashioned practice of letter writing. Pen, paper, envelope, the whole nine yards. The only difference between my letters and the letters that other people write is that I don't want mine to be read. I won't seal the envelope. I won't ever drop them in a mailbox.

I'm writing these letter to say to people what I have always wanted to tell them, but have lacked the conviction to do so. I've found it to be very therapeutic. Finally I have the chance to spill all the thoughts that have been crowding my mind for years onto a blank sheet of paper. As I began this little project, I thought why can't I just phone these people and say, "look, I've needed to say this for a long time now." I guess the easy answer is that I'm too scared to do that. So, for now at least, a sheet of paper is the best substitute for those conversations.

Who are your envelopes addressed to?

There's the sting.

2006-11-13T15:42:00.000-06:00

Oh, death where is thy sting?

My mind has been a bit preoccupied with death lately. Well, not exactly death, but the after affects of it. I blame my new morbid fasination on my dodging death for the second time this year. Also, this past weekend, a promient figure in my home church passed away. Even a sitcom I watched while recovering in the hospital had a main character facing death. Death seems to be everywhere right now.

We as Christians comfort ourselves with the knowlege that if the deceased "knew Jesus" they are in heaven. Cliches like "they're in a better place" or "he's resting now" or "she wouldn't want you to be sad" are almost always muttered at funerals. But does it ever really help? How do we as finite humans cope with and grope to understand something so...final as death?

The thing that gets me most about death is it's finality. There is no chance that I will see them again. No hope that we'll talk about the weather or how their holidays were. It's all gone. Death is completely unescapable.

People tell me not to dwell on such things, and I suppose they're right. But not dwelling on it doesn't seem right to me. I want to know, to understand. I just want to get it.

Humanity. There's the sting.

Two Quarts Low

2006-11-13T15:29:00.000-06:00

I'm the type of person who enjoys a fairly quiet, normal lifestyle. Go here at this time. Do that at this time. So when something threatens to interrupt my peaceful existence I choose to ignore it, often I've found this to be a bad idea. This past week was one of those times.

I had been feeling poorly for several days and when the headache and exhaustion became completely unbearable, I went to the doctor. The kind gentleman informed me that I was severely anemic. The average hemoglobin level for a woman my age should be between 12 and 16. Mine was around a six. Uh-oh.

After further investigation, I was diagnosed with stomach ulcers and I had been apparently losing blood via these ulcers for close to two weeks. But after a bit of morphine, fluids, and four blood transfusions I am feeling much better. I now have 2 full quarts of somebody else's blood rushing through my veins.

This whole near death experience got me thinking. I so often choose to ignore my problems in hopes that they will got away. But as I discovered this week, this is probably the worst idea ever. I have made a new pact with myself: to stop ignoring my problems and hoping that they will go away, but to face them and deal with them.

Growth often gives me some most unwelcome lessons.

"Why wasn't I friends with you last year?"

2006-11-04T22:11:00.000-06:00

This is my second year as a student at Providence College, my third semester, my eleventh month. And at times I think I have Prov, the social structure, and my friendships figured out. But something about this year that has truly suprised me is the number of rather remarkable people that I didn't know last year. There are people that I completely glossed over and never took the time to get to know. More times than I can count this semester, I have been talking to someone and thought, "Why wasn't I friends with you last year?"

This realization got me thinking about the possibility that there are so many wonderful things, whether that be friendships or experiences, that I have missed out on simply because I didn't take the time. What else am I missing out on? How is my experience at Prov not complete and how much of that is my fault? It's really hard to say. If my goal is to experience growth and to live my life to the fullest, what must I do to make that happen?

Passion

2006-10-30T20:25:00.000-06:00

What is passion?

To Hollywood, passion is an intense sexual affair. To humanitarians, passion is the overwhelming desire to help the hurting. To the just, passion trys to right all that is wrong.

I like to consider myself a passionate person, at least that is the term I use for my overly emotional nature. To me, passion manifests intself in tear. At times I feel so strongly about certain things that I can't stop the emotion boiling up within me and and I cry. But sometimes I feel that my passion is misguided.

The word passion conjures up images or fire, rage, and all that is extreme. For Hitler, passion meant ethic cleansing. For Mother Teresa, passion meant devouting her entire life to the lowest of low. Both of these historical figures were very passionate people, but one benefited humanity, the other destroyed it.

I cry about a lot of things. But am I crying over the right things. Does injustice make me cry, or does a sappy movie? Is it the hurts of others that bring me to tears, or is it the wounds to my own selfish desires?

Unbridled passion is beautiful, misguided passion is devastating.

Life Lessons

2006-10-30T19:32:00.000-06:00

In my contast challenge to keep this blog updated with fascinating accounts of how I am a growing here at Prov I realized that about 90 percent of all the lessons I learn here at Prov have nothing to do with classroom. In fact, the ideas that are really valuable to me are not gleaned from lectures or studying for exams. The lessons that are most beneficial to me are from life. From my day to day conversations, from trying to love those around me, and from trying to live this experience to the fullest. So, I've decided that rather than using this blog to pinpoint experiences that cause me to grow, I will share what I am learning and hope that this process of recording what I'm learning will be evidence that I am growing.

Go

2006-10-29T22:44:00.000-06:00

This week, my college hosted it's annual Mission's Encounter conference. It's a time when missionaries and different representatives from missions organizations come for a couple days. Classes are cancelled and students are encouraged to attend workshops and speakers to become more "missions minded"

So as I was sitting in these sessions and heard stories of suffering and joy from around the world I was struck with one idea, go. The idea that I should leave all this and just go. Sometimes it bothers me to sit in class, write papers, and socialize for thousands of dollars a year. Why am I doing this when there is so much else out there? When there is life beyond my college experience and beyond North America and beyond this lifestyle that I call reality?

Sometimes my reality feels very superficial. That by living the life I'm currently living, that I've somehow removed myself from the human condition. I don't want to be removed. I want to feel, to know, and understand reality.

I'm unsure where all this leaves me, but I do know that I want to go.

Please don't tap on the glass.

2006-10-20T16:16:00.000-05:00

You know those smelly pet stores in the malls? Full of cute little creatures in little glass cages. And people come in, press their noses against the glass, and say things like, "ooooh, look at the little white one!"

Sometimes my life at Providence reminds me of these pet stores. No only because my dorm smells like wet dog, but because people stand on the outside of my life, look in, and then talk about what they see. Usually, it doesn't bother me so much. I knew that I would face this when I chose to attend the smallest college on my list of potentials. However, this week, I found the fact that my life is under the microscope to be completely maddening. People, who I barely know, come up and ask me about my love life. People, who I have just one class with, ask me how my big paper is going. People sit around crowded tables in the student centre and discuss whose dating whom, who broke up with whom, and how this effects the oh so delicate social structure here at Prov.

I want to know people and to have them know me. I want to get people, and I want to be "got". But it's so easy here to be in people's lives, talk about about people's friends, to know who they love, and then, never really know them. It seems to me that there is a huge difference between knowing about somebody, and really knowing them. But in my life that resembles a fish tank, I'm not sure how to get others to know me...or how I can actually know them.

Questions :Apathy

2006-10-17T15:41:00.000-05:00

Questions produce apathy. Questions produce apathy?

A good friend told me this statement the other day and it has been on my mind lately. Mostly because my year so far at Providence has been marked by extreme apathy. I lack passion for no reason that I can see. My relationships, my studies, my everything seems to be apathetic. To make matters worse I'm apathetic about being apathetic. On top of all this, I have spent my last month searching in vain for the cause of my apathy.

But I think, thanks to my friend, I have discovered the cause of my apathy. If I question everything, life, love, God, identity, and I am unable to come up with any answers then eventually I've gotten tired. I've gotten tired of this endless questioning process. I've grown tired of not really knowing...anything. So perhaps my newfound apathetic attitude is not because I know it all and have no desire to grow, but because I know absolutely nothing and the very thought of trying to know something pushes me into complete and total exhaustion.

The cure for my apathy? ...that is yet another question.

The 'M' Word.

2006-10-14T00:14:00.000-05:00

Marriage fever has swept the campus of Providence.

Engagement Tally for the Week: 3 couples.

When you attend a Christian college filled with a sea of twenty-somethings there is bound to be a lot of talk about relationships, love, dating, and of course, the 'M' word. That's right: marriage. We joke about attending a "bridal college" or getting our "Mrs. Degree", but deep down I think marriage is at the back of almost everyone's minds. And, occasionally, something happens that brings those thoughts and desires to the surface. This week was that something.

I've lost count of how many people I have discussed marriage or relationships with this week.
Some people joked about "my super hot future wife", others bemoaned that their "biological clock is ticking loudly." But I think that most of us, myself included, are completely clueless about love and marriage. We all have our own reasons behind wanting to get married. Some reasons are trivial, others more valid.

It seems to me that God designed marriage to draw us out of our selfishness. Instead of me, my wants, and my needs, marriage asks us to consider the good of another person before our own needs. If marriage is, according to the bible, a good thing than why is it so darn hard to "get married"? Perhaps we're scared of commitment, or maybe it's because the single life offers more personal freedom. I'm not really sure. But all this marriage talk has got me thinking, what is love? Do I even have a clue what the kind of love marriage would entail is?

And that is where I am at the moment. Completely clueless...and wanting to know how to love.

To Fit

2006-10-09T15:42:00.000-05:00

I'm writing this post while sitting in the livingroom of my parent's house. This is my first time back home since I arrived at Providence in August. And I was stuck with a rather odd feeling, the feeling that I don't fit here anymore. It's move than not fitting in, I am completely out of the loop. I have no idea who's who among the high schoolers, or what the latest small town gossip is. I don't know the people I sat next to in my home church are, and the most frightening part was that they didn't know who I was either.

Maybe the old saying, "you can't go home again is true." I sometimes wish that my life back at home was waiting for me, exactly as I left it. Perhaps the sometimes cruel way that life does go on without us is God's way of saying, "I have something else for you. I don't intend for you to fit anymore." But I do want to fit. I want to be a piece in some great puzzle of a beautiful landscape. And if I don't fit in my home town any longer, where is it that I am supposed to fit?

Raising Questions.

2006-09-22T20:15:00.000-05:00

This is me. Emily Mekash.

This is the college I attend. Providence College and Theological Seminary.

Now that all the introductions are out of the way, on to more pressing matters.

The dictionary defines the word holistic to mean "emphasizing the importance of the whole and the interdependence of its parts." "Concerned with wholes rather than analysis or separation into parts."

My college claims to want holistic growth for its students. They want me to grow in every way: mind, body, intellect, and spirit. I'm to grow as a whole person while attending this college.

I firmly believe that it is our experiences that shape who were are and who we becoming. So, what will I experience this semester? Holistic growth? We shall see.