Emptying the Inbox

In the past couple years I have developed my own style of minimalism for my life. I possess a distaste for clutter, and have improved my ability to detach sentimentality from objects that no longer add value to my life.

Since graduating college, I created a goal to empty my email inboxes, because digital minimalism is just as important to me as physical minimalism. Deleting and archiving most of my college emails was easy. The other challenge was cleaning up my personal inbox.

While I deleted many emails, there were many that I kept, but not in my inbox. I created enough folders to keep everything organized, but not enough to constitute another level of clutter. Creating categories such as bills versus family emails, or specific locations I’ve lived in, have been incredibly helpful in this process. I can now proudly say that my personal inbox has under ten emails in it, as I have learned to sort my mail as it comes in.

I understand that not everyone can do this because some receive hundreds of emails per day. I cannot say I know what that experience is like. However, I have discussed with some friends how useful “digital housekeeping” can be these days, and how it would be an interesting adventure to pursue that service as a line of work to clients.

I do not know exactly everything that that service would entail, but it is an area that interests me, and I would love to hear readers’ thoughts on it. Whenever I learn something that is useful in my life, I become excited to share it with others in hopes their lives can improve as well.

Eve’s Lament

I had a tryst with my husband last night, but it was different from any of our previous experiences together. We used to be so close, but now I can barely look him in the eye.

It wasn’t always like this. We used to walk in the garden freely, bathing in the beauty of the earth and of each other. We were one with the Creator. He would laugh and talk with us, and we lived in joy so great I couldn’t describe it if I tried. Now, darkness has fallen. I wear a cloak of shame and hide among the trees. I feel alone and afraid. Even when I stand next to my husband, I have never felt so far away from him. Somehow, he is just out of my reach. He is sad and distant. I am lonely and irritable. We manage to argue, although about what, I can’t even remember.

Last night, we had a few moments together during which it almost began to feel like old times. I almost felt that we could understand each other again. When I mustered the courage to look him in the eye, I saw the same desperation and remorse that I felt. I saw myself reflected in those eyes, and that comforted me. And, toward the end of those few moments, my body seized, being caught up in a blanket of light and ecstasy. I began to think that the darkness had been just a bad dream; I felt as though we were one again. I wanted to sing praises to the Creator, to laugh and talk with Him again, when the darkness returned several seconds later. Just like that, the moment had come and gone, and it became nothing but a memory.

I am scared for the future. Sometimes I feel as though my life is unbearable because of this terrible darkness. But those precious moments last night gave me hope that one day, the darkness will be undone. I know the Creator has a plan to make everything right again. If I could, I would want to tell Him that I’m sorry for everything. Last night, however, I think was a gift from Him. I think he wanted to tell me that, despite the mess I made, it will not last forever. Someday, the world will be restored to how it was meant to be.

Exposed Soul

The summer is coming to an end, but it will still be awhile before cooler weather sets in.  I remember last summer feeling like I was seeing a lot of posts about modesty, but this summer I don’t recall seeing as many.

This is not going to be another post on how women should/should not cover up; there are plenty of those on the internet. What this is about is some thoughts I have on clothing from a slightly different perspective.

I wish we could all walk around naked without being judged, but that is not socially or legally acceptable in 2015. But I wonder if our focus should be less on exposed skin and more on an exposed soul.

Let me explain. Any form of exposure requires a degree of vulnerability. Some people are completely comfortable showing skin, while others are more comfortable sharing personal stories or emotional experiences. Some are fine with both or neither. Could the two be related? Could it be that the more skin I expose, the less comfortable I feel revealing my soul? Or is it that the more I cover up, the more insecure I am about how people would react if they knew the true me?

Even in the famous story of Adam and Eve, the two of them walked around naked and were completely vulnerable in all aspects. After the Fall, they covered up, not only physically, but perhaps emotionally as well.

I tend to show more skin than many of my conservative friends may be comfortable with, so I am not going to shun you based on how much or how little you cover up. What interests me more is the core of a human being: who she really is beneath the masks of social constraints.  What are you struggling with that you’re afraid to tell anyone? What are you covering up that is keeping you from being healthy? That is what matters to me.

A Phrase That Bothers Me

Since coming to the South, one phrase I have heard repeatedly is “love on.” “We’re just going to love on each other.” Is it me, or does that sound weird?

Why can’t we say “love each other”? The word love can be used to imply action, and doing something “on” someone else sounds rather gross to me. I understand that people say it with the best of intentions, and I appreciate that. However, I don’t want to be loved on; I want to be loved.

I could be reading too much into it, but it is something I have thought strange.

Theatre and the Internal Battle

Recently I have attended live theatre and loved it. Straight plays especially I am seeing these days contain challenging subject matter that beckons the audience to ask difficult questions. I love it when the art of live theatre serves a purpose in enriching people’s lives. However, recently I have discovered the changes in my taste for entertainment.

As many who know me are aware, I am passionate about emotional and mental health, especially my own. I have spent hours analyzing my emotions, habits, lifestyle, and childhood to determine why I think and feel certain ways, and how to improve those parts of my life that are unhealthy.

How does this affect my tastes for live theatre? I am realizing that the reason many shows are challenging is because the characters are not healthy. It is easy to see the unhealthy decisions of someone on a stage, but it is more difficult to identify those same issues in real life, which is what makes theatre so beautiful. An awareness or a call to attention of a character’s flaws creates a deeper awareness of our own flaws or the flaws of the world. This awareness in turn elicits a response from us, be it a call to action, or at least developing a unique perspective of an area in which one was previously oblivious.

The problem I have is that often I see elements of myself on stage played out in ways that do not allow for a resolution. At the conclusion of a given play, the audience is left to create their own resolution, their own determination to not turn out the way the characters might have. This can be a positive thing, especially if it motivates the audience to live healthier lives. Where I am in my own life, however, seeing dangerous life decisions played out onstage brings me pain because I am trying as hard as I can to avoid a similar fate.

In the midst of my daily anxieties, stressors, and irritants, during which I like to imagine the worst case scenario, I have thought that perhaps one day I will create short dramas to put on a stage to get them out of my head and out of my way in life. I think many people before me have already done that, as we hear stories of artists who lived tortured lives and wrote from dark places. It makes for great drama, because no one wants to watch a story in which everyone is perfectly happy the entire time. My hope is that the events I see onstage will not become a reality in my own life.

And so while I may need to take a break from live dramas to work on my own life, I hope one day I will learn to maintain a certain disconnect from people I watch in stories so as to enjoy them more.

Dear Future Me

I have a confession to make. With several acquaintances knowing me as the “sexually frustrated one,” I have to admit that I get really jealous of people my age and younger who are getting married. Don’t get me wrong; I love them and I’m glad that they found a spouse. But in a culture where it’s common to get married before you’re legally allowed to rent a car, sometimes I wonder if something’s wrong with me.

I let my thoughts run away with me sometimes. I see the beautiful brides and I think, “Why can’t I be in their position now? What do they have that I don’t?”

I can cook, bake, and clean, and I am learning to live within my means. I can sew, weave baskets, spin yarn, play the harp, and countless other things. More importantly, I have been working to better myself by exploring the depths of my emotional weaknesses and learning how to strengthen them. I am very self-aware, and I am perceptive of other’s emotions. I’ve spent hours journaling on why I get so emotional and how to remedy that. I am not perfect, but I’m doing the best I can to become a better person.

Ultimately I know that another person can never satisfy all my needs. First and foremost, I need to learn how to take care of myself, because that’s what being a healthy adult in 21st-century America entails. If I were to seek a romantic relationship now, perhaps it would stunt my growth. But that doesn’t make my loneliness any less frustrating.

So to my future self, I’m sorry that I’m not mature enough right now to relieve that loneliness. But I can’t be sorry for taking care of myself.

Quirky Christendom

Christianity is a weird religion. Traditionally speaking, you meet up with a group of people you don’t know on a Sunday morning, and you listen to someone speak. You sing a few songs, and then you leave. If you’re lucky, you might have a Bible study to go to during the week. But that’s about it. I guess what’s weird to me is that within Christianity, people seem to focus only on their spiritual health and not much else.

I’m thinking in contrast to other religions in which physical health, diet, and relationships are more of the focus. For example, when you think of certain Eastern religions, you may think of yoga, meditation, or certain dietary restrictions. While the main thing that sets Christianity apart from other religions is that it’s not a performance-based religion, sometimes I wonder if  the Christian Church wouldn’t benefit from taking one’s overall well-being into consideration. The beauty of Christianity is that everyone is different, yes, and everyone is in a different point in their journeys. While spiritual health is very important, there are more dimensions of wellness than just spirituality.

You also have physical, emotional, financial, social, and environmental health. When one of these elements suffers, it can affect one’s overall well-being. I’m not saying that the Church should be responsible for everyone’s health in all aspects of life, but I think it would be cool if, when people heard the word “Christian,” they would think, “Oh yeah, Christians are some of the healthiest people I know.”

Then again, you don’t go the a bank in hopes they can help you with a broken arm, and you don’t go to a hospital to get a loan. So I guess these dimensions of wellness should be separate, it just seems strange to me.

I guess what I’m saying is, I want more people in general to care about their overall well-being, because I know how difficult it can be to do that. I’m still learning how to take care of myself in the most basic of ways, and I don’t really have anyone to teach me what a healthy adult is supposed to look like.

These are my thoughts for the day, so thanks for reading my tirade.

Minimalism and the Internet

I am now settled into my new apartment with the adventures of adulthood knocking at my door. For the first month of my living here, I thought I would experiment with not purchasing a wifi plan and seeing how long I could last.

Not the best idea.

I will say this: I’m not a fan of people who are addicted to their screens. Sometimes I can be that person, although I try not to be. I figured it was worth trying to go without internet and therefore purging what wasn’t adding value to my life. Hopefully it would force me to get out more.

The problem I had was that instead of going out more, I stayed in more. I cocooned. Being introverted, I already don’t like to go out much, and not having internet only made me feel more lonely and less connected. Sometimes, if I have several days off from work, I may not even leave my house because I see no reason to. I entertain myself with cleaning, crafting, and reading. Sometimes I would try to hang out with friends, but I’m also in that stage where I’m trying to find a community outside of college, which brings with it its own unique challenges. There are only so many things to do inside a house before boredom joins the party.

I want to view the internet as a tool, and I admit I do waste time on it, but if I’m not going to leave my house anyway, at least the internet gives me the ability to find new articles, watch movies, and see what other people my age are up to.

Hopefully as time goes on, I may find more valuable ways to pass the time, but for now, this is where I am in my journey.

Chronic Guilt

Of the many difficulties women tend to face, one that I particularly wrestle with daily is guilt. To quote a woman I once knew, “I came out of the womb apologizing.” Different women may struggle with this to different degrees, and some may not encounter it at all, but it is a very real thing, regardless if it all seems to be just in your head.

Regardless of how many times we tell ourselves that we don’t have anything to feel guilty about, that nagging feeling that we’re doing something wrong never fails to wheedle its way into our subconscious, contaminating even the most innocent of intentions. If I say such and such, it might come across wrong. But if I don’t say it, I’ll be wishing I did. Just recently, I was talking with a friend of mine about this, and we were surprised to discover that we both feel guilty spending money. Buying food is perfectly logical and necessary, but saving money is essential. Buying clothes that fit well is important, but we can survive without – no use wasting money. The problem with this mindset is that money in and of itself isn’t really worth anything, but is rather a tool that we can use to help us obtain what we need to survive, and perhaps even splurge on an occasional treat if circumstances allow.

No matter how many times I hear the saying, “Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish, it’s an investment,” I still think that I am inconveniencing someone just by existing. So to all the women (and men), who battle with this, I want to tell you that you’re not alone. Let’s be friends, and then we’ll feel guilty together.

Juliet’s Rant

I miss him terribly, but even still
I doubt the truth behind my sentiments.
I hesitate to call it love if all
it is is pure infatuation that
is typical of young hormonal girls.
I do not trust myself to use the term
of love accurately because I have
such difficulty understanding its
pure definition. I was taught that love
is not a feeling; it is sacrifice.
I think of love as a decision to
commit, and lust being the feelings that
come after. I come up with mental lists
of things I’d do for him as proof of my
commitment, for my feelings do not make
for solid evidence of love. That’s why
I say I’d make him dinner or massage
his feet, or take care of him when he’s sick,
because I’m desperately trying to prove
these feelings are not senseless whims, although
that’s what I am convinced they are. I do
not trust emotions and I do not view them
as highly as I should, because they don’t
seem like good reasons to do anything.
Because I do not trust emotions, I
have found myself looking for concrete ways
to show affection, or whatever keeps
me bound to him. The problem is, I’m stuck
Because I hardly ever see him and
I rarely talk to him, and that prevents
my concrete acts done in the name of love.
These thoughts therefore swirl in my head, and I
am left to wonder if I truly love,
or if I only think I do because
it’s all infatuated fantasy.

I wonder why it matters. If I spent
some time with him, it wouldn’t for I’d be
too busy doting on him. But I don’t
spend time with him, and so I find myself
Desiring to tell others I love him,
although I fear I’d sound quite immature –
a girl who knows not what she talks about.
And so I guess the root of all this is
I am concerned what others think of me.
However, on the other hand, what’s more
is that I care about my use of words.
I want to speak correctly for I’d hate
to say something that I don’t truly mean.