November 19, 2013
I was just thinking today, as I was striving assiduously to accomplish nothing at all, that one's room can reflect a number of things about one's state of mind. Maybe this isn't true for all people, but it seems to hold true for myself. When I am feeling outgoing and productive, my room is orderly, my bed is made, my floors are vacuumed and my room generally feels lighter and more presentable. When I'm feeling lazy, unmotivated, or depressed, my room becomes a walking landmine, with clothes thrown every-which-way, a bed that resembles nothing so much as a bird's nest, and stacks of books and schoolwork strewn across the floor. When it reaches this state, my room resembles some kind of primitive (if quite comfortable) cave. I sometimes feel like my bedroom is some kind of convoluted mood ring, without the color chart but with all of the aesthetic value.
The strange thing is, I find some kind of perverse pleasure in this constant flux of my room. I think that one of the most prevalent reasons that I wouldn't enjoy having a personal maid is that I would lose this connection between my room and my mood swings. And I really don't have a very high tolerance for people sifting through my stuff... And I'm also too broke to hire a maid... On to other things.
My point is, I have always been fascinated by what people's spaces reflect about their personalities and moods. When people look into my room, I like to think that they see more than just a slob (although, I wouldn't blame them if they did, because my room can get quite messy, dear audience) and rather looked past it to see someone who values comfort and familiarity, who can't quite handle constant perfection, who sometimes feels the need to hide from the pressures of the world.
But who knows, they might just see an unorganized hodgepodge. I figure that I won't worry too much about it. At least, until I manage to snag a boyfriend who would feel the need to hang out in my room; that might be enough to motivate a makeover. But I guess we won't know until it happens, will we?
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
Contemplations of "Sinners in the Hands of An Angry God" (1741) by Jonathan Edwards
November 18, 2013
Dear audience, I'm going to give you some advance warning right now: occasionally I am going to geek out on you and analyze particular texts and give you my spin on them. As a disclaimer right from the start, I am not passing judgement on anyone's beliefs or viewpoints. How can I when I can't even decide what my own are? When I discuss things as sensitive as religion and God, just know that this isn't targeted towards anyone, but is more of a tool for self-introspection on my part.
Today I want to introduce you, oh audience of mine, to some writings by an early American Puritan preacher named Jonathan Edwards. I don't particularly agree with all of his "fire and brimstone" ideas (in fact, I have a hard time accepting a lot of his ideas, but more on that later), but I find his writing to be extremely thought-provoking and intriguing. Here are some selected quotes from the paper written by Edwards that I encountered in one of my college history classes, followed by my personal thoughts on the entire deal. (Also, realize that these religious ideas come from a Puritan time period, when Christianity was feeling both very confident and very aggressive. Think Salem witch trials...)
"He that believeth not is condemned already." - John iii. 18
"There is nothing that keeps wicked men at any one moment out of hell, but the mere pleasure of God. [...] There are in the souls of wicked men those hellish principles reigning, that would presently kindle and flame out into hell fire, if it were not for God's restraints. There is laid in the very nature of carnal men, a foundation for the torments of hell.
[...]
Your wickedness makes you heavy as lead, and to tend downward with great weight and pressure towards hell [...] Were it not for the sovereign pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you one moment; for you are a burden to it; the creation groans within you; the creature is made subject to the bondage of your corruption, not willingly; the sun does not willingly shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan." - Jonathan Edwards
When reading Jonathan Edwards' selections, especially his first one, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," I felt sort of lost. Maybe it has something to do with my own personal struggle with religion and faith at this time in my life, but there were definitely a few times during the reading that I felt something he said really hit home for me. I have heard of the "fire and brimstone" speeches given by pastors in certain churches, and have had an intellectual understanding of those kinds of sermons; but I guess I never really had an emotional understanding of what those sermons were, and what they were truly meant to say.
I think that I have a tendency while reading to emotionally detach myself from the text, so that I am cognizant of what the passage is saying, but I'm not feeling what it is saying. It's so easy to nonchalantly say, "Oh yes, it's a horrible thing to be damned to Hell. I'm sure that would be awful." But there's no emotional understanding of what that truly means. It is HELL. It's not a bad place; it's the bad place. Torture and damnation for eternity.
I have to consciously make myself realize the magnitude of what that is, and sadly, that's how it has always been for me. I'm not sure if it's an outcome of my childhood or indicative of my character, but when I am being confronted with a situation or an idea that upsets me or touches me on a deep, personal level, I retreat inside myself. I automatically become an emotional void, and any feelings of anger or embarrassment or fear or sadness are pressed down deep inside, and eventually they engender a massive depression that leads to a massive, concentrated burst of emotion.
And the scary part about all of this is it happens unconsciously. Sometimes I'm not even aware that something has upset me until an external sensation or action triggers it. However, I don't want to externally express all of these reactions and emotions all the time, because I am an intensely private person (or I was until I came up with the idea for this blog... Huh. Go figure.) How do I reconcile these dangerous habits with my underlying personality? And what is it that has resulted in me reacting to these emotions in this way?
I think one of the hardest things to admit to myself is my own fear, and my inability to deal with that fear. And this fear isn't restricted to one subject: my fear of organized religion, my fear of relationships, my fear of loneliness, my fear of inadequacy. My fear of indifference. These are all pushed down deep inside of me day after day, coming out in random spurts at random times that shock and confuse the people around me (although, I really can't blame them, oh audience of mine).
Like when I was reading this selection by Jonathan Edwards. It almost felt like the entire reading was directly targeting my fears about religion, and trying to scare me into belief, which I also had a visceral reaction to. I resent and turn immediately defensive at the first hint of manipulation and intimidation, almost on an instinctual level, and Edwards' selection smacked strongly of intimidation. His use of direct Biblical quotes and references only strengthened the feeling.
It really began with John iii. 18, "He that believeth not is condemned already." For a person who can't even decide if God really exists, this statement threw me into a panic mode. I like to think that I am a fairly good person; maybe not perfect, but I certainly feel that I try to be the best person I can be, and to be told that even with all I am and all I'm doing I'm still damned to Hell not only deters me because of the intimidation factor, but also strikes strongly at my fear of inadequacy. I hate the feeling that I have tried my hardest to do something, to be the best person or daughter or friend I can be, and to be told that it just isn't good enough. That not only that, but I am going to be punished for my inadequacy. I guess that this also contributes to another one of my fears, my fear of the loss of control.
It's strange, because although I realize the Edwards' was considered an extremist even in his own time, much less by today's standards, and that there are many Christians out there who would disagree with his ideas, something in his words still affected me in such a way that I was unable to shake it off. It affected me so deeply that I had to write an entire blog post trying to work through it all. I guess that's the power of language, huh?
It's strange the way our minds make connections. In the end, although his writing initially had me responding directly to his views about God and sinning and comparing it to my own life actions, what is really being uncovered here is all my underlying fears in my life. All those fears and how I deal with them on a day to day basis. I can't decide if this realization of what these fears are necessitates immediate action. As rational and logical as it would be to immediately try to confront these fears and how they affect my life and my psyche, I have a feeling that it is not going to be so easy... Funny how illogical things become when emotions are thrown into the mix, huh?
So for now, I'll just stick with the fact that I have realized what some of these fears are, and find some small irony in the fact that an 18th century "fire and brimstone" Puritan preacher is partially responsible for uncovering these fears. Besides, you can only process so much in one blog post, am I right?
Dear audience, I'm going to give you some advance warning right now: occasionally I am going to geek out on you and analyze particular texts and give you my spin on them. As a disclaimer right from the start, I am not passing judgement on anyone's beliefs or viewpoints. How can I when I can't even decide what my own are? When I discuss things as sensitive as religion and God, just know that this isn't targeted towards anyone, but is more of a tool for self-introspection on my part.
Today I want to introduce you, oh audience of mine, to some writings by an early American Puritan preacher named Jonathan Edwards. I don't particularly agree with all of his "fire and brimstone" ideas (in fact, I have a hard time accepting a lot of his ideas, but more on that later), but I find his writing to be extremely thought-provoking and intriguing. Here are some selected quotes from the paper written by Edwards that I encountered in one of my college history classes, followed by my personal thoughts on the entire deal. (Also, realize that these religious ideas come from a Puritan time period, when Christianity was feeling both very confident and very aggressive. Think Salem witch trials...)
"He that believeth not is condemned already." - John iii. 18
"There is nothing that keeps wicked men at any one moment out of hell, but the mere pleasure of God. [...] There are in the souls of wicked men those hellish principles reigning, that would presently kindle and flame out into hell fire, if it were not for God's restraints. There is laid in the very nature of carnal men, a foundation for the torments of hell.
[...]
Your wickedness makes you heavy as lead, and to tend downward with great weight and pressure towards hell [...] Were it not for the sovereign pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you one moment; for you are a burden to it; the creation groans within you; the creature is made subject to the bondage of your corruption, not willingly; the sun does not willingly shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan." - Jonathan Edwards
When reading Jonathan Edwards' selections, especially his first one, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," I felt sort of lost. Maybe it has something to do with my own personal struggle with religion and faith at this time in my life, but there were definitely a few times during the reading that I felt something he said really hit home for me. I have heard of the "fire and brimstone" speeches given by pastors in certain churches, and have had an intellectual understanding of those kinds of sermons; but I guess I never really had an emotional understanding of what those sermons were, and what they were truly meant to say.
I think that I have a tendency while reading to emotionally detach myself from the text, so that I am cognizant of what the passage is saying, but I'm not feeling what it is saying. It's so easy to nonchalantly say, "Oh yes, it's a horrible thing to be damned to Hell. I'm sure that would be awful." But there's no emotional understanding of what that truly means. It is HELL. It's not a bad place; it's the bad place. Torture and damnation for eternity.
I have to consciously make myself realize the magnitude of what that is, and sadly, that's how it has always been for me. I'm not sure if it's an outcome of my childhood or indicative of my character, but when I am being confronted with a situation or an idea that upsets me or touches me on a deep, personal level, I retreat inside myself. I automatically become an emotional void, and any feelings of anger or embarrassment or fear or sadness are pressed down deep inside, and eventually they engender a massive depression that leads to a massive, concentrated burst of emotion.
And the scary part about all of this is it happens unconsciously. Sometimes I'm not even aware that something has upset me until an external sensation or action triggers it. However, I don't want to externally express all of these reactions and emotions all the time, because I am an intensely private person (or I was until I came up with the idea for this blog... Huh. Go figure.) How do I reconcile these dangerous habits with my underlying personality? And what is it that has resulted in me reacting to these emotions in this way?
I think one of the hardest things to admit to myself is my own fear, and my inability to deal with that fear. And this fear isn't restricted to one subject: my fear of organized religion, my fear of relationships, my fear of loneliness, my fear of inadequacy. My fear of indifference. These are all pushed down deep inside of me day after day, coming out in random spurts at random times that shock and confuse the people around me (although, I really can't blame them, oh audience of mine).
Like when I was reading this selection by Jonathan Edwards. It almost felt like the entire reading was directly targeting my fears about religion, and trying to scare me into belief, which I also had a visceral reaction to. I resent and turn immediately defensive at the first hint of manipulation and intimidation, almost on an instinctual level, and Edwards' selection smacked strongly of intimidation. His use of direct Biblical quotes and references only strengthened the feeling.
It really began with John iii. 18, "He that believeth not is condemned already." For a person who can't even decide if God really exists, this statement threw me into a panic mode. I like to think that I am a fairly good person; maybe not perfect, but I certainly feel that I try to be the best person I can be, and to be told that even with all I am and all I'm doing I'm still damned to Hell not only deters me because of the intimidation factor, but also strikes strongly at my fear of inadequacy. I hate the feeling that I have tried my hardest to do something, to be the best person or daughter or friend I can be, and to be told that it just isn't good enough. That not only that, but I am going to be punished for my inadequacy. I guess that this also contributes to another one of my fears, my fear of the loss of control.
It's strange, because although I realize the Edwards' was considered an extremist even in his own time, much less by today's standards, and that there are many Christians out there who would disagree with his ideas, something in his words still affected me in such a way that I was unable to shake it off. It affected me so deeply that I had to write an entire blog post trying to work through it all. I guess that's the power of language, huh?
It's strange the way our minds make connections. In the end, although his writing initially had me responding directly to his views about God and sinning and comparing it to my own life actions, what is really being uncovered here is all my underlying fears in my life. All those fears and how I deal with them on a day to day basis. I can't decide if this realization of what these fears are necessitates immediate action. As rational and logical as it would be to immediately try to confront these fears and how they affect my life and my psyche, I have a feeling that it is not going to be so easy... Funny how illogical things become when emotions are thrown into the mix, huh?
So for now, I'll just stick with the fact that I have realized what some of these fears are, and find some small irony in the fact that an 18th century "fire and brimstone" Puritan preacher is partially responsible for uncovering these fears. Besides, you can only process so much in one blog post, am I right?
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Thoughts for the Day
November 17, 2013
Whew. This whole "daily blogging" thing is way harder than I thought it was going to be. Almost missed Sunday right there. As before, it's probably evident that I am fresh out of ideas for today. So I'll just leave you with a couple of thoughts...
Thought #1: Why is it that we never have the emotional responses that we think we should? We have all these expectations of how we see ourselves reacting in certain situations, or how other people think we should react to certain emotional stimulants. But when these expectations do not become a reality, we have a couple of different options. First, to think that there might be something wrong with ourselves because we are not reacting the way other people think we should (Example: Wow, am I a horrible person because I'm not more upset that [insert emotionally distressing problem here]?) Second, we try to force the response that we think should be happening, or that we expect we should be having. One example? Forced crying. Yep. I said it. It's not that I'm not already sad or anything, but my first reaction is not to bawl my eyes out. But then, for some reason, I get this idea that I'm not as sad/hurt/angry/emotional as someone who is crying. So I, not so much force, but more actively allow myself to cry. I'm not sure that makes sense to any of you out there in my dear audience. I'm not sure I even completely get it. And I'm sure there are other possible emotional responses to pick from besides these two. But right now, these seem to be all I can focus on. Another response, perhaps?
Thought #2: I've heard of the play, "All I Ever Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." I've never actually seen this play, so I'm not 100% positive what exactly the content is, but as I've gotten further and further into college I've begun to hypothesize on what some of the points might be. The most prevalent point, and my personal favorite? Nap time. Nothing ever beats a good cat nap. Hence the short length of this blog. I hate to say it, but today a fully developed and complete blog was sacrificed on the altar of the cat nap. Or the extra-super-ultra-long cat nap. I think there's probably a word for that kind of nap... I shall get back to you on this. At the moment, all I can think about is the other thing that is sacrificed on the altar of cat naps (besides my homework, of course): dinnner. Now, what to eat...
Whew. This whole "daily blogging" thing is way harder than I thought it was going to be. Almost missed Sunday right there. As before, it's probably evident that I am fresh out of ideas for today. So I'll just leave you with a couple of thoughts...
Thought #1: Why is it that we never have the emotional responses that we think we should? We have all these expectations of how we see ourselves reacting in certain situations, or how other people think we should react to certain emotional stimulants. But when these expectations do not become a reality, we have a couple of different options. First, to think that there might be something wrong with ourselves because we are not reacting the way other people think we should (Example: Wow, am I a horrible person because I'm not more upset that [insert emotionally distressing problem here]?) Second, we try to force the response that we think should be happening, or that we expect we should be having. One example? Forced crying. Yep. I said it. It's not that I'm not already sad or anything, but my first reaction is not to bawl my eyes out. But then, for some reason, I get this idea that I'm not as sad/hurt/angry/emotional as someone who is crying. So I, not so much force, but more actively allow myself to cry. I'm not sure that makes sense to any of you out there in my dear audience. I'm not sure I even completely get it. And I'm sure there are other possible emotional responses to pick from besides these two. But right now, these seem to be all I can focus on. Another response, perhaps?
Thought #2: I've heard of the play, "All I Ever Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." I've never actually seen this play, so I'm not 100% positive what exactly the content is, but as I've gotten further and further into college I've begun to hypothesize on what some of the points might be. The most prevalent point, and my personal favorite? Nap time. Nothing ever beats a good cat nap. Hence the short length of this blog. I hate to say it, but today a fully developed and complete blog was sacrificed on the altar of the cat nap. Or the extra-super-ultra-long cat nap. I think there's probably a word for that kind of nap... I shall get back to you on this. At the moment, all I can think about is the other thing that is sacrificed on the altar of cat naps (besides my homework, of course): dinnner. Now, what to eat...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)