Proximity
8/20/07
There’s this phenomenon going on. It’s called Proximity. The idea is to be as close to your audience as possible without being hurt—vulnerability without full-fledged reciprocity. It happens when the pilot gets out of the cock pit to tell us that his co-pilot isn’t yet here. Mr. Pilot could have stayed in his pit but he’d rather be appreciated so he stepped out and spoke to us directly. He’s not about to walk the aisle and shoot the breeze—that would be too much and quite unrealistic. After all, he’s got a job to do. But we all appreciated actually seeing him, not just hearing him. I appreciate it. I can work with it. I can even do it. But I think we set each other up for disappointment in some scenarios. Like when we spend extra time in conversation face to face. That proximity is nice and intimate. So we expect it next time around and if we don’t get it, we wonder what went wrong.
Or maybe that’s just a female thing and I’m getting in over my head. So I’ll stop writing now. There’s no phenomenon. Nothing to see here folks. Nothing to stand in awe over. The pilot was just being nice.
***
light
6/3/07
it’s fascinating to see how light alters things, how the sun (for example) makes it hard to see the exact locale of the Frisbee in flight. so I knock it from the sky wishing I had more perception.
***
Answers
12/20/05
Answers are often hard to come by. Resting in a state of unknowns, I bury my head and cry. But hope comes in moments. I take hold of each and know one thing--I will be fine.
Bits of hope like paper passed through confetti shredders
Flies, fanned by discouragement
Tuesday, July 28
Thursday, July 16
about our Father's business
basic concept:
a quarterly, print-ready, pdf. file with 300-350 word interviews or 1st person narratives about the life of ministry
purpose:
to encourage Adventists that don't hold traditional ministry positions (pastor, chaplain, etc) to be about our Father's business...to be connected to God personally and communally in ways that intentionally seek to build God's kingdom
more...:
10 people each quarter
10 different fields (as different as possible)
different countries (to maintain a world-focus and become more aware of the work elsewhere)
diverse in color, culture and age (though mostly young professionals and younger)
gender balance
method:
gather interviews/narratives with current pics for each (streamline the pics)
create contemporary layout, design, etc
create pdf. file
create central web space (an existing cite, facebook...whatever works best)
develop readership
post and email quarterly
a quarterly, print-ready, pdf. file with 300-350 word interviews or 1st person narratives about the life of ministry
purpose:
to encourage Adventists that don't hold traditional ministry positions (pastor, chaplain, etc) to be about our Father's business...to be connected to God personally and communally in ways that intentionally seek to build God's kingdom
more...:
10 people each quarter
10 different fields (as different as possible)
different countries (to maintain a world-focus and become more aware of the work elsewhere)
diverse in color, culture and age (though mostly young professionals and younger)
gender balance
method:
gather interviews/narratives with current pics for each (streamline the pics)
create contemporary layout, design, etc
create pdf. file
create central web space (an existing cite, facebook...whatever works best)
develop readership
post and email quarterly
Tuesday, July 14
update on the philadelphia pool problem...
one really sad fact about all this is that even if the club leadership isn't racist, the members who said those racist things when the children got there have made it that much harder to even think about smoothing anything over. oh human nature. when will you end?
Monday, July 13
last w & t
in my parent's laundry room sits a grey metal filing cabinet. i'm quite sure it's the only "michaela possession" still taking up space in this house and i'm quite proud that with all my hording ways, my stuff isn't the bane of my parent's existence. yet, i've known for a while that all the paper in that metal probably isn't worth keeping. so last night, i began the sorting/shredding process. it was therapeutic to watch and hear paper ground into smithereens and to come across words i'd long forgotten. like my last will and testament.
not sure what got into me on august 6, 2001. it was a monday and i decided to print out a list of how i wanted my belongings distributed and funeral organized. my mum witnessed my signature and i sealed and signed the letter-sized envelope. below my signature are the words "to be opened immediately after death." granted, it would have taken my family a while to even find this so it probably wouldn't have been immediate....
with nothing much to my name in 2001, there is only 1 double-spaced page listing what to give to whom. the next 1.5 pages are much more interesting. i sort of want to scan and post them on fb. but then again, if i found out that a friend wanted me to sing or read a poem at her funeral, i'd probably feel a bit weird, a weird that would trump the feeling of honor.
i must say, however, that i was quite humorous 8 years ago. several of the funeral instructions have an asterisk by them which means that these lines are to be read at some point during the funeral "to lighten the atmosphere a bit". for example:
*The service should just flow from one thing to the next--no dead time (no pun intended).
*The program should have a poem by me on the front and a picture on the back. My words come first, not my face.
*Dress me in something happy and flattering
*If I look very bad, PLEASE CLOSE THE CASKET.
after reading through all of this and the more serious stuff, i got quite emotional for a bit...not to the point of tears but to the point of one serious question: if i don't wake up tomorrow, how should i have spent my time today? it felt like a near-death experience, one that thankfully didn't include guns, broken limbs or emergency room runs but still forced me to stop and think hard about what really matters...really.
and it's easy to say, well, i should make the most of the time i have with family and witness to everyone i meet. but in the midst of that "good" verbiage, i still question the SHOULD.
my window is open. the smell of the morning breeze enters my room, taking me back 10 years to 6 weeks spent in trois pistoles for a french immersion program. every morning was cool and unlucky me had left my fleece in one of via rail's train cars, never to be seen again. the only warm clothing i had was a hoodie. i was cold and shy. welcome to quebec! when i finally began dreaming in french, conversing in class, and hanging out with other students, it was week 5. instead of questioning my arrival, i wanted to start again, make friends quicker, delve into the culture sooner. life was good; i wanted to keep it that way. it wasn't filled with hugs and bible studies but with jokes, frappes and poetry readings. the cool morning air was now bearable and french was a great language.
the last two weeks were the best.
...pls don't put that on my gravestone...
not sure what got into me on august 6, 2001. it was a monday and i decided to print out a list of how i wanted my belongings distributed and funeral organized. my mum witnessed my signature and i sealed and signed the letter-sized envelope. below my signature are the words "to be opened immediately after death." granted, it would have taken my family a while to even find this so it probably wouldn't have been immediate....
with nothing much to my name in 2001, there is only 1 double-spaced page listing what to give to whom. the next 1.5 pages are much more interesting. i sort of want to scan and post them on fb. but then again, if i found out that a friend wanted me to sing or read a poem at her funeral, i'd probably feel a bit weird, a weird that would trump the feeling of honor.
i must say, however, that i was quite humorous 8 years ago. several of the funeral instructions have an asterisk by them which means that these lines are to be read at some point during the funeral "to lighten the atmosphere a bit". for example:
*The service should just flow from one thing to the next--no dead time (no pun intended).
*The program should have a poem by me on the front and a picture on the back. My words come first, not my face.
*Dress me in something happy and flattering
*If I look very bad, PLEASE CLOSE THE CASKET.
after reading through all of this and the more serious stuff, i got quite emotional for a bit...not to the point of tears but to the point of one serious question: if i don't wake up tomorrow, how should i have spent my time today? it felt like a near-death experience, one that thankfully didn't include guns, broken limbs or emergency room runs but still forced me to stop and think hard about what really matters...really.
and it's easy to say, well, i should make the most of the time i have with family and witness to everyone i meet. but in the midst of that "good" verbiage, i still question the SHOULD.
my window is open. the smell of the morning breeze enters my room, taking me back 10 years to 6 weeks spent in trois pistoles for a french immersion program. every morning was cool and unlucky me had left my fleece in one of via rail's train cars, never to be seen again. the only warm clothing i had was a hoodie. i was cold and shy. welcome to quebec! when i finally began dreaming in french, conversing in class, and hanging out with other students, it was week 5. instead of questioning my arrival, i wanted to start again, make friends quicker, delve into the culture sooner. life was good; i wanted to keep it that way. it wasn't filled with hugs and bible studies but with jokes, frappes and poetry readings. the cool morning air was now bearable and french was a great language.
the last two weeks were the best.
...pls don't put that on my gravestone...
Saturday, July 11
dix ans
i met a 10-year old girl...a beautiful p.k. with a lot to discuss. it was great. our initial interactions were distant. she was the youngest at the dinner table, separated by a minimum of 12 years to the next youngest. so i wasn't surprised by her quiet nature but i could tell she had a voice.
surprised by my perception yet confident in it, i hung around close by as we stood outside the house, about to depart post (an oh so fabulous) meal. and to be quite honest, i wanted to talk. i was once in her place, the young p.k. that doesn't get much attention as the adults schmooze, unintentionally excluding her from 98% of the conversation due to its subject matter. i wanted this p.k. to know that i wasn't one of those adults, that she could speak and should speak...and i would willingly listen and engage.
did you go to french immersion?
finally! her question picked up from an earlier brief exchange that had me stumbling through french phrases and eventually getting around to asking her age. i get so excited when i hear that someone else in the room knows french. i'm not sure why i get excited coz i don't speak it well. alas, there's a lingering desire to really know it...one day...
so we got to chatting about french lessons, immersion, school trips, meeting famous people, neighbors...like i said, she had a lot to discuss. and she spoke with such interest both in what she divulged and what she heard me say. we could have kept on for quite a while. being the stronger conversationalist, she would have carried the encounter and i wouldn't have minded one bit!
hopefully we'll meet again soon and i'm praying i remember her name. until then, j'espere que je me souviens...
surprised by my perception yet confident in it, i hung around close by as we stood outside the house, about to depart post (an oh so fabulous) meal. and to be quite honest, i wanted to talk. i was once in her place, the young p.k. that doesn't get much attention as the adults schmooze, unintentionally excluding her from 98% of the conversation due to its subject matter. i wanted this p.k. to know that i wasn't one of those adults, that she could speak and should speak...and i would willingly listen and engage.
did you go to french immersion?
finally! her question picked up from an earlier brief exchange that had me stumbling through french phrases and eventually getting around to asking her age. i get so excited when i hear that someone else in the room knows french. i'm not sure why i get excited coz i don't speak it well. alas, there's a lingering desire to really know it...one day...
so we got to chatting about french lessons, immersion, school trips, meeting famous people, neighbors...like i said, she had a lot to discuss. and she spoke with such interest both in what she divulged and what she heard me say. we could have kept on for quite a while. being the stronger conversationalist, she would have carried the encounter and i wouldn't have minded one bit!
hopefully we'll meet again soon and i'm praying i remember her name. until then, j'espere que je me souviens...
Thursday, July 9
Wednesday, July 8
my bike's name is...
off and on, i've thought about naming my bike. it's a random thought that i finally decided to entertain for longer than a moment.
then other questions popped up. do bikes have a gender? does the fact that it was built for a woman mean it should have a woman's name? should i pick a few names and take a fb poll?
i quickly dismissed them all and thought of a generic option. "300." then i quickly vetoed that sucker due to pop culture references and moved on to "30" which has much deeper significance. after all, i've been on a challenge to ride 300 (hence the first choice) miles in 30 days and i turned 30 this year. so there we have it. my black trek beauty now has a name that encapsulates my current year of life and the current challenging month of exercise.
30. it now means you can do it.
can u dig it?
then other questions popped up. do bikes have a gender? does the fact that it was built for a woman mean it should have a woman's name? should i pick a few names and take a fb poll?
i quickly dismissed them all and thought of a generic option. "300." then i quickly vetoed that sucker due to pop culture references and moved on to "30" which has much deeper significance. after all, i've been on a challenge to ride 300 (hence the first choice) miles in 30 days and i turned 30 this year. so there we have it. my black trek beauty now has a name that encapsulates my current year of life and the current challenging month of exercise.
30. it now means you can do it.
can u dig it?
Wednesday, July 1
in just a few words
i'm determined to speak briefly, say enough and no more. i have a bad habit of rambling on and on and on... and it's not b/c i'm a woman. i think it's a matter of finding my voice late and finding authority in my voice even later. so i've got a lot to catch up on, a lot of blanks that need filling, and never enough time. if i write out my thoughts first, i can speak them more fluidly but there isn't always time for pen and paper/keyboard and fingers. alas, i must be quicker. i must. then maybe i'll be able to explain myself in just a few words.
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