why are you so afraid?

Tonight I made my way over to Fran Beckett's house for a meal and Bible study. To be perfectly honestly, I stopped myself from turning around on the walk over by focusing on the former, not the latter. In the last couple of weeks, in the rare moments in which I have found myself reading my Bible or praying, I am more often than not filling my time with God than spending it with Him. This is neither intentional nor malicious. It's not that I am at a particularly low point or that I am really doubting anything. I'm just, I don't know, or I do, but...

Anyway, the meal was splendid. It is so nice to eat a healthy, delicious meal that was homemade by someone else. (I actually like cooking, but come on... it's nice that have someone else prepare food for you and even better to share said food.) As we ate, we sat there chatting about this and that and sipping wine. When we finished, we dug into jalebis and some of the best strawberries I have had in England.

Then the actual Bible study began. We were looking at the first four chapters of Mark-- the anointing of Christ, parables, and miracles. Instead of a formal study, we were presented with some questions about the nature of our faith and its implications. (I am attending a church that is wonderful, tolerant, loving, socially aware, and somewhat radical-- in the best sense.) We were meant to spend 30 minutes in silence marinating on one or more of these points. Virtually all of the questions were relevant to 'where I am,' which is probably why I didn't want to think about any of them. So instead, I decided to read through the chapters. Did I mention that I have been filling time with God rather than spending it with Him? Ummm, yeah.

As I came across the penultimate line of the tonight's reading, Mark 4:40, I found myself frozen: "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" A little context: The disciples, terrified that they will drown in a nasty storm that threatens their boat, wake an exhausted Jesus from his nap. He looks towards the wind and waves, says, "Quiet. Be still." The winds die and the waters become completely calm. Then he turns to these men who have given up their lives to follow him and asks, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" As I read those lines, I tried to imagine the tone. Eleven words, over and over again with variation in emphasis. Is he disappointed? Angry? Frustrated? Reassuring? I couldn't reach any conclusion.

What I did realize was that those very words might as well have been directed at me tonight. So I sat there in silence going over them. "Why are you so afraid, Natalie?" I tried to answer, but every response that flowed through my mind was to a different question: what are you so afraid of? I am not very good at admitting fear. Yet, in this quiet moment of meditation, I was able to confess what felt like an endless list of fears. What am I so afraid of? I am afraid that my mother won't get this offer or that she will and my grandfather's care will suffer, that Clara's tuition won't be paid or that even if it is her opportunities will somehow be limited. I am afraid that my own father's health will become an immediately pressing issue and that I will be far away, that I am already too far away in moments of crisis, that even if I were present I would somehow still be far away. I am afraid that I won't be able to meet my responsibilities and that my responsibilities will cause my dreams to stagnate. I am afraid that I won't finish this dissertation on time and that it won't be good enough, that my applications won't be successful or that they will and I won't have the support I need. I am afraid for my family and for myself, for the future and for the environment. I am afraid of this and so much more.

While I can normally bury my fear and push forward with what has been called aggressive optimism, lately even as I do so, I feel the fear. It physically weighs on me. There are many challenges facing my family at this moment and I am, myself, in a moment of transition and uncertainty. Still, I have been through such moments before and while I did not always handle them as well as I might have, I have never experienced fear in such a visceral manner before. Grief, perhaps, but never fear. I don't like it. Quite frankly, I don't know what to do with it. (For better or worse, I am someone who has to do.)

As I sat there going over all these fears and trying to name them because I am someone who believes that naming something gives us a certain power over it, it occurred to me that I was avoiding the question. Jesus hadn't asked his disciples what they were afraid of. The answer would have been simple: 'We're afraid of the huge waves that are going to sink our ship and drown us.' He had asked something much more profound. I hadn't been asked not what, but rather why. I found myself trapped in a very circular argument: Why am I afraid? Because bad things might happen or are happening and may continue. Essentially, why am I afraid? Because I am afraid. For the life of me, I could not come up with a better answer. Had the question been different, now then I might have had something. 'Why are you upset?' he asks. 'Because you seem to have been sleeping through my imminent demise.'

The fact that I couldn't and can't answer the why, has brought me to the second question. "Do you still have no faith?" Even when I imagine a benevolent and concerned Jesus lovingly prodding his friends with this rhetorical question, I can't help but to feel that it is something of a accusation or challenge. Religious beliefs aside, one either has faith in someone or something or doesn't. Faith can't fall into the grey area. I can't mostly have faith or almost have faith or have 65% percent faith. Faith is an allegiance, a commitment, a conviction, a belief. You believe in something or you don't. So it is with faith. To do something on faith, is to do it without question. There is a reason that faith and hope are separate virtues. Faith requires a certainty, no room for doubt.

My gut reaction, the certainty that radiates through my bones, is, "Yes, I have faith." In this case, a faith in my God and by that, a faith in the future. The moment I utter that to myself, I have a revelation: I am never going to be able to answer the why. If I have faith, I have no reason to be afraid. Now, that doesn't mean that I am no longer afraid-- I am-- but it does mean that I know I shouldn't be. So, yes, right now, I still feel as though I can't breathe and my mind is racing through a million worries, but as long as I keep reminding myself that I do, in fact, have faith, I am confident that those worries will die out, choked by the strength of hope and the certainty of belief.

I don't know if any of you are out there experiencing these burdens, suffering from worries that literally weigh upon you, but if you are, please reach out to whatever you have faith in-- your God or your friends or your belief in your own abilities. When you focus on the faith, it becomes impossible to drown in the fear.


much love.

sicko

I love my little sister more than just about anyone or anything in the world, but every time I see her I get deathly ill. Last summer it was scarlet fever (yes, people actually get that), in June it was a bug that just wouldn't go away, and now once again I am miserable and totally unable to function... unfortunately the next couple of days are REALLY important. Hmmm...

busy as a bee

I am sitting here looking at the monthly day planner that I just picked up at OfficeMax and thinking to myself that these quiet months of writing I had anticipated are looking awfully busy... October and November are just a little scary. My slingshot planner and palm are trusty companions, but it wasn't until I bought a large monthly calendar and wrote in all of my appointments that I could see the 'big picture.' Don't get me wrong, I like to be busy. I thrive under pressure. But, I don't know how the days filled up so quickly!

At least, between now and December the calendar is filled with exciting things-- and I've had the good sense to schedule daily 'writing blocks.' So, what are those exciting things, you ask? Let me share a few:

1. TEACHING! I'll be teaching tutorials of Political and Economic Anthropology. Now whatever my issues with anthropology, this course really excites me. It examines methods and morality and the perspectives that anthropology can bring to pressing and relevant world issues. More than that, teaching tutorials gives me a chance to interact with undergrads. There's something really magical about watching people grow in confidence and ability at such a rapid pace.

2. RUNNING! A couple of weeks ago I came home to help pack up our house (Not going well). To keep our sanity, my mother and I started running together in the mornings. Now, we've both been running individually, but quite frankly, neither of us lives in a road running friendly environment and running alone outside is daunting. (Hence, my treadmill addiction.) However, running with a friend is amazing in whatever conditions. Since I can't run with my mom every morning, I am joining Serpentine Running Club.

3. EGYPT! Enough said.

4. DISSERTATION WRITING! For the first time in a long time, I am feeling really good about my dissertation. I wrote an email to my supervisors clearly stating my needs in terms of structure and support and received a wonderful response. This is a good lesson for me. Typically I take what's before me and make it work as best I can. This time, instead to plowing ahead, I really asked for what I need. My guess is that we all feel better about this.

5. CREATIVE WRITING! I've also scheduled in daily creative writing time. A poem that I wrote last summer gave birth to a new project and I am looking to have a manuscript length draft ready by June. It is so good to be back on track with creative writing.

There's more, but those are the 'biggies.' Ok, ok there is one more biggie in the next two months but I would rather not go there until I know for sure. So for now, all you need to know is that I am steadily working towards my long-term goal and pounding away at applications. Most importantly, I am feeling really positive about everything.


much love

N.

thanksgiving

Sorry for my silence. (Isn't that a phrase I utter often?!) I've been in four US states in the last week. The trip was designed as a glorious combination of business and pleasure, but I have to admit that when you are in good company and walking paths that feel familiar, everything is pleasing. I've really missed the good ol' US of A.

Even more than that, I have really missed the Pioneer Valley. Claiming that your college career was 'the best time of your life' is cliche, but in my case, the cliches are all true. My time at Mount Holyoke was the most joyful, empowering, and exciting period I have known. That statement is all the more powerful because those years also included the kidnapping and murder of my aunt, the unexpected death of my beloved grandmother, and a number of other dark moments. Still, it was in the Valley that I found my voice and in the Valley that I found friends and mentors who continue to be my greatest inspiration. This place is magical.

For the incredible yearning I feel as I walk around Amherst and South Hadley, there is an equal or greater sense of thanksgiving. I am thankful for all this place has given me and for all that it is. I am thankful for Roberto Marquez, his challenging teaching, and the quality of his mentoring. I am thankful for the people I have met who taught me new and better ways to see the world and myself in it: Liz, Liam, Hilary, Zachary, Jayna, Julia, Bekka and Alison, the Wilder Crew, and Five College friends, to name only a few. I am thankful for an environment so rich in so many ways.

I have been told recently that I speak with confidence and that I possess a clear sense of direction. I don't know if that is true, but if it is, it is through no merit of my own. I owe everything-- in the positive sense-- to my time here.

windermere, emphasis on the wind

This past weekend, I escaped the hum-drum of the Big Smoke and made my way up North with Team Lievesley. It was such a gift to be able to spend three days with Alison and her parents and to meet other people whom she loves dearly. I firmly believe that you can tell a lot about a person by the company she keeps. Let me assure that everything I love about Alison was affirmed and amplified by meeting her closest friends and spending time with her family.

The purpose of our trip was to support my dear Dr. Lievesley as she swam the length of Lake Windermere-- nearly 11 miles-- in the 52nd annual Windermere race. I wish that I could say that my support was particularly useful, but I don't think that it was. While Kat and Felicity served as crew and Lewis and Pamela proved transport, I was pure cheerleader. Next year, next year I will have a skill to offer.

And yes, there will be a next year. Unfortunately, after months of training and a transnational expediation this year's race came to an unexpected end. A very miserable morning (even by English standards) forced the safety wardens to pluck the Windermere swimmers from the water mid-race. Strong winds created havoc on the lake and sunk two of the support crew boats. So, after swimming a very famous 22 mile course that I have been told I am not allowed to mention by name-- hint: it involves a passport, begins on an island and ends at the continent-- Alison will be returning to Windermere next summer. Go Team Lievesley, go!

Even though the weekend didn't go as planned, it was thoroughly enjoyable. Cumbria is awe-inspiring beautiful. The company was second to none. Oh, and there were lots of cakes. What more could a girl ask for?

I have included a couple of photos below. Enjoy!


much love

Felicity and Kat load the Victorian boat that they will crew.

Dr. Lievesley prepares to enter the water.

And she's off....

But then the skies go grey and the rain begins to fall...



The race is canceled and Pamela, Lewis, and I head to a cafe with a postcard view to await the rescue boats that carry Ali, Kat, and Felicity to shore.

writer's block

I would like to apologize for my silence this week. I've been trying to get in as much study time as possible before the next semester begins. Though, I suppose the real reason that I have been so quiet is that I am working on a series of essays for various applications and suffering from a terrible case of writer's block. After so many years of academic writing, I am finding short personal pieces to be a real challenge. It took a long time for me to learn to 'write myself out' of my essays. Now to write myself into them is difficult. I know that I have stories to tell, but the first line is always the hardest. If anyone has any good writing prompts, send them this way! Please!

This evening I am off for a couple of days to support my lovely friend, Ali, as she completes an 11 mile solo swim. Madness, I know. But, since she always supports my crazy goals, the least I can do is make up there for to be her and try best to be a cheerleader. Let's hope for good weather or at least nothing appalling...

I'll be back Sunday with photos to share.

much love

sarah palin

I know that there are many people out there rejoicing at McCain's decision to tap Sarah Palin as VP. So let me say up front: I am not one of them. I think that it is pandering of the worst kind. There are many, many qualified pro-life Republic women out there. She isn't one of them. A rising star? Possibly. Someone I would be comfortable seeing lead the United States should a 72 year-old cancer survivor die in office? Definitely not.

I am happy to see a woman on the ticket-- just as I am thrilled to see racial diversity. New narratives are important. That said, I am not voting on narratives. I am voting on issues, voting on directions. I am voting on the nation I see before me and the one I hope to see in four years. That the McCain campaign seems to truly believe that I would pick a pretty working mom because she reminds me of my own struggles or of my mother's balancing acts just proves how much he underestimates women. Might it work? I don't know. Whether it works or not, I find this particular choice insulting. On Thursday, I saw the best of American politics, today I believe that I am seeing the worst.

Reports that John McCain met Gov. Palin only once before offering her the post further fuel my disappointment in this pick. Hey, let's put a woman in there. Doesn't really matter which one. The voters will never notice that she is an anti-choice, anti-LGBT, anti-environmentalist former (very) small town mayor with 20 months of real experience. Don't worry, they'll be so overwhelmed by her winning smile that they'll forget that she is in the middle of her own ethics scandals. National security? Ha. Economic and healthcare solutions? Ha. Foreign policy? Ha. But look at those cute kids and the hunky 'First Dude.' Now that's what's really important.

Hey John, I don't vote for a candidate based on her anatomy.