When I close my eyes, I can easily place myself into a familiar surrounding of the past. The apartment that I recently lived in, the house I grew up in, favorite coffee shops, church rooms. As I, in my imagination, sit in a favorite chair the family room of my childhood home, I hear the tick-tocking of the coo-coo clock, the humming of the refrigerator, and the faint singing of birds in the trees outside the window. I can smell the familiar smell, feel the familiar dryness of the air-conditioning (for this is a quiet summer afternoon), and I feel the presences of my parents, who still reside there. It's peaceful.
But what's this new impression in the mix? Sadness? Discontentedness? Dissatisfaction with the known and established? How long has this feeling influenced the atmosphere? The thirst for something more, some new experience, wisdom and knowledge--hasn't it been building for some few years? Adventures were still to be had: I hadn't lived over twenty miles away from Fresno.
But here, I'm comfortable. This home, this fortress of protection and good memories; it's a sanctuary and a refuge. Rather, it used to be. In my memory, it still is.
How dangerous is it to retreat into memories, visions from the past? How steep of a slope is it to bask in the comfort of a cheery home of long ago? It is so easy to remember only the pleasantries. What of the dissatisfactions and irksome ambitions? Are they to be forgotten?
At this point, I could carefully drudge up the unpleasant things and feelings that occurred. I could carefully outline and state the things that annoyed me to no end or gave me grief, whether severe or simple. Perhaps that would be worthwhile--an exercise to remind me that the past is best left where it is, and that the present and future deserve all of my current attention.
But what of this contemplation? Is it useless? Am I wasting my time and language on an unimportant activity?Maybe this is a tribute to the past in another effort to make a truce with it. As you can see, the waves of consideration go back and forth, up and down, and it is easy to be swayed by them. Maybe I am not making sense anymore. I seem to have gotten lost in this dim fog. Of what was I speaking before? Oh yes. Visiting places lost in the past.
While I am not ready to say that contemplation of the past is to be totally rejected, my conclusion is that it can be dangerous. If I spent all my time imagining myself in places that I will never be able to return to, what happens to my present situation? If I dedicate my energy to remembering, what energy will be left to create and achieve in the present, and dream of the future? Yes; the past is important, but more so is the present. After all, there is glory in the future, not the past, and the process of growing and being pruned is a thing of the present.
Onward I look, with my face to the light before me. There will doubtless be darkness that will try to swallow me up, but it will fail. Jesus Christ is my Gain, Holy Spirit is my Guide. And Holy Father? He is as His name declares: my Father. Holy, huge, and loving. The Father of lights. What can stop me? Fearlessly I go on.
Year 2012, bring it on.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
'Tis the Season! (Does that phrase make you cringe, too?)
Dear friends,
Today is one of those cloudy and dark days where it's hard to not be gloomy by the end of it. But I guess it's okay, because it's been a bit difficult to get into the "Christmas spirit," though it hasn't been from a lack of trying. This past weekend, I went to two Christmas productions, shopped in a mall (which was decorated and had Christmas music playing), and drove down a few streets with houses draped with twinkle-lights. The weather has even been trying to help me out. The day we celebrated Thanksgiving (no, it isn't usually celebrated here), it rained all day. That was nice! And for the past few days, it's been cloudy and rainy. Soon we'll get a Christmas tree and I'll probably stop being weirded out with the warmer weather. And if I'm not, oh well.
The end.
Today is one of those cloudy and dark days where it's hard to not be gloomy by the end of it. But I guess it's okay, because it's been a bit difficult to get into the "Christmas spirit," though it hasn't been from a lack of trying. This past weekend, I went to two Christmas productions, shopped in a mall (which was decorated and had Christmas music playing), and drove down a few streets with houses draped with twinkle-lights. The weather has even been trying to help me out. The day we celebrated Thanksgiving (no, it isn't usually celebrated here), it rained all day. That was nice! And for the past few days, it's been cloudy and rainy. Soon we'll get a Christmas tree and I'll probably stop being weirded out with the warmer weather. And if I'm not, oh well.
The end.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
And the sun rises...
Hello friends!
The last entry to this blog wasn't pleasant, but this one is! :)
Since the last post, I've met new friends (YAY!), started busking (being a street musician), and washing windows (today was my first day at windows). These are all very cool things, and they're connected to each other. I'll tell you how: meeting friendly people my age boosted my confidence to go busking (as well as encouragement from facebook friends... you all rock). The first day, I earned $50 in three hours. That boosted my confidence to go window washing today. I did one job. The owner was a nice old man who seemed like he wanted some company, so when I was done with the windows I had some tea with him. At the end of it (about 2.5 hours, including the job), he handed me a $50 and didn't want change. Woohoo! I was so glad that I just went straight home and called windows good. Then I cleaned up and went busking for two more hours, earning $40. Not bad, not bad.
Anyway, my whistle is clearer and my voice is singing more. There's a spring in my step and a sparkle in my eye. I'm excited for life and SO excited to see what comes around.
Speaking of excited for life, I'd like to share one thing with you that kinda blew my mind: Enjoy what you do. I think it's probably possible. Vacuuming, washing windows, playing music on the street, helping people out at a counter... I don't know. But whatever you do, if you decide to enjoy it, you might start to. And then everything is much more pleasant.
There you go. Time for evening tea!
Peace,
Sarah
The last entry to this blog wasn't pleasant, but this one is! :)
Since the last post, I've met new friends (YAY!), started busking (being a street musician), and washing windows (today was my first day at windows). These are all very cool things, and they're connected to each other. I'll tell you how: meeting friendly people my age boosted my confidence to go busking (as well as encouragement from facebook friends... you all rock). The first day, I earned $50 in three hours. That boosted my confidence to go window washing today. I did one job. The owner was a nice old man who seemed like he wanted some company, so when I was done with the windows I had some tea with him. At the end of it (about 2.5 hours, including the job), he handed me a $50 and didn't want change. Woohoo! I was so glad that I just went straight home and called windows good. Then I cleaned up and went busking for two more hours, earning $40. Not bad, not bad.
Anyway, my whistle is clearer and my voice is singing more. There's a spring in my step and a sparkle in my eye. I'm excited for life and SO excited to see what comes around.
Speaking of excited for life, I'd like to share one thing with you that kinda blew my mind: Enjoy what you do. I think it's probably possible. Vacuuming, washing windows, playing music on the street, helping people out at a counter... I don't know. But whatever you do, if you decide to enjoy it, you might start to. And then everything is much more pleasant.
There you go. Time for evening tea!
Peace,
Sarah
Saturday, November 26, 2011
A disappointment in the midst of discomfort
Dear friends,
This wouldn't be an honest blog if I only posted when I was feeling happy or when I've just gotten good news. It wouldn't even be interesting if I restricted it to light and cheery things. Today I was disappointed, and while I express it as a form of therapy through this post, you might find it interesting, as well.
After barn-sitting for a week, my boss gave me a few days off. It's been really nice, because on the day of their return, I was really fed up and tired out by the job and just wanted a break. So for the past three days, I've basically been resting. It's been so nice!
Today, my boss called and apologized for being "out of touch" for the past few days, and that there's a change. My confidence with the horses leaves stuff to be desired, and there's another girl (with much more experience than I have) that they'd rather take on. Why pay two people to do a job that one can easily do? I'm really good at most of the job, but unless I can do all of it, I'm not the best candidate. My boss said that she does have work for me for a while, though: helping her with gardening. I don't mind gardening, by any means, and I'd actually prefer not having to go through the stress of trying desperately to be confident with the horses, so while it's a disappointment, it isn't all bad, and there's a relief in it, as well. The fact that they want to keep me on means they see that I have a good work ethic and that I'm a nice person to be around, so I know that it isn't that they don't like me, it's simply that I don't have enough qualifications to do the job they originally hired me for.
Lately, I've been working on not taking things personally. Them saying that I'm not confident enough with the horses doesn't mean I'm any less of a person. (Easy to say... why is it hard to believe sometimes?!) It's interesting, really interesting what things are exposed as what I thought were foundational to who I am, that really aren't. Yes, I like horses. No, I'm not completely comfortable with them. And it seems like every time I experience something like this--a letdown--it's even harder to be comfortable and confident with them. It's as if I believe what the other people say more than what I believe my own ability is. Do I even believe I have that ability? Or that I can train it up? I'm not sure if I have a pleasant answer to those questions.
After the call, I started thinking about confidence. How can someone have it? It seems to be something that's built up, over time and through experience. Okay... so if I want to be confident with horses, how do I go about that? Well, if I don't find myself succeeding at the level I am currently in and there isn't much hope of progress, perhaps I should go back down to a level that I've mastered to build the confidence back up again. Until some shred of confidence comes back, the best thing to do is to be honest about where I'm at; no use pretending! Avoiding jobs that require confidence in certain things is probably a good idea. Instead of saying I'm qualified with the hope I'm confident with horses or the hope that I'm good at multitasking (like at another job that didn't work out), being honest about my capabilities and going after what I'm already confident in is probably the best way to go.
But what if the things I'm confident in aren't things I can earn money with? The things that come to mind immediately are playing ukulele and knitting. How can I make money with those? Neither really drip of lucrative opportunity, do they?
At this point, the easiest thing to roll off the tip of my tongue is, "Well, Father's brought me this far, He'll take me the rest of the way!" But now there's a catch. He's been stressing that this is relationship, not a dictatorship. Yes, He's the One with all the power, and if it weren't for Him nothing would exist--I'm not saying anything otherwise. But He decided to have relationship with me. That means the road goes both ways, that we are two individuals and I'm allowed (encouraged!) to have my own opinions and ideas and dreams, and I share them with Him as He shares His with me. So... while it's much easier to remain indecisive and let others (or circumstances) rule out options for me until the decision is less complicated, I feel the need to actually stand on my own two feet and think about what I want.
That's hard. Because going after what I want means I might fail. Going after what I want means I might be wrong. Going after what I want means I can't blame anything on anyone else. It's scary enough to make me shrink back and pretend none of these thoughts ever happened. But change can't happen until I'm too uncomfortable with things the way they are that I'll be willing to shift things.
It was overwhelming today. But it might not be tomorrow, and it definitely won't be in a month (maybe less!). So I have hope, don't worry. I do know God's got me, and a plant that needs to grow in a better way needs to be pruned back viciously. (Mary found that out when she went over a young tree with a lawnmower. It had been struggling to grow before the accident, but then shot up afterwards.) I am a very uncomfortable, bewildered, and tired individual, who feels very far from home and far from the me I know. But I do know there's hope. I know there is.
Thanks for reading. I really appreciate the feedback!! May peace and hope give you rest, wherever you are,
Sarah
This wouldn't be an honest blog if I only posted when I was feeling happy or when I've just gotten good news. It wouldn't even be interesting if I restricted it to light and cheery things. Today I was disappointed, and while I express it as a form of therapy through this post, you might find it interesting, as well.
After barn-sitting for a week, my boss gave me a few days off. It's been really nice, because on the day of their return, I was really fed up and tired out by the job and just wanted a break. So for the past three days, I've basically been resting. It's been so nice!
Today, my boss called and apologized for being "out of touch" for the past few days, and that there's a change. My confidence with the horses leaves stuff to be desired, and there's another girl (with much more experience than I have) that they'd rather take on. Why pay two people to do a job that one can easily do? I'm really good at most of the job, but unless I can do all of it, I'm not the best candidate. My boss said that she does have work for me for a while, though: helping her with gardening. I don't mind gardening, by any means, and I'd actually prefer not having to go through the stress of trying desperately to be confident with the horses, so while it's a disappointment, it isn't all bad, and there's a relief in it, as well. The fact that they want to keep me on means they see that I have a good work ethic and that I'm a nice person to be around, so I know that it isn't that they don't like me, it's simply that I don't have enough qualifications to do the job they originally hired me for.
Lately, I've been working on not taking things personally. Them saying that I'm not confident enough with the horses doesn't mean I'm any less of a person. (Easy to say... why is it hard to believe sometimes?!) It's interesting, really interesting what things are exposed as what I thought were foundational to who I am, that really aren't. Yes, I like horses. No, I'm not completely comfortable with them. And it seems like every time I experience something like this--a letdown--it's even harder to be comfortable and confident with them. It's as if I believe what the other people say more than what I believe my own ability is. Do I even believe I have that ability? Or that I can train it up? I'm not sure if I have a pleasant answer to those questions.
After the call, I started thinking about confidence. How can someone have it? It seems to be something that's built up, over time and through experience. Okay... so if I want to be confident with horses, how do I go about that? Well, if I don't find myself succeeding at the level I am currently in and there isn't much hope of progress, perhaps I should go back down to a level that I've mastered to build the confidence back up again. Until some shred of confidence comes back, the best thing to do is to be honest about where I'm at; no use pretending! Avoiding jobs that require confidence in certain things is probably a good idea. Instead of saying I'm qualified with the hope I'm confident with horses or the hope that I'm good at multitasking (like at another job that didn't work out), being honest about my capabilities and going after what I'm already confident in is probably the best way to go.
But what if the things I'm confident in aren't things I can earn money with? The things that come to mind immediately are playing ukulele and knitting. How can I make money with those? Neither really drip of lucrative opportunity, do they?
At this point, the easiest thing to roll off the tip of my tongue is, "Well, Father's brought me this far, He'll take me the rest of the way!" But now there's a catch. He's been stressing that this is relationship, not a dictatorship. Yes, He's the One with all the power, and if it weren't for Him nothing would exist--I'm not saying anything otherwise. But He decided to have relationship with me. That means the road goes both ways, that we are two individuals and I'm allowed (encouraged!) to have my own opinions and ideas and dreams, and I share them with Him as He shares His with me. So... while it's much easier to remain indecisive and let others (or circumstances) rule out options for me until the decision is less complicated, I feel the need to actually stand on my own two feet and think about what I want.
That's hard. Because going after what I want means I might fail. Going after what I want means I might be wrong. Going after what I want means I can't blame anything on anyone else. It's scary enough to make me shrink back and pretend none of these thoughts ever happened. But change can't happen until I'm too uncomfortable with things the way they are that I'll be willing to shift things.
It was overwhelming today. But it might not be tomorrow, and it definitely won't be in a month (maybe less!). So I have hope, don't worry. I do know God's got me, and a plant that needs to grow in a better way needs to be pruned back viciously. (Mary found that out when she went over a young tree with a lawnmower. It had been struggling to grow before the accident, but then shot up afterwards.) I am a very uncomfortable, bewildered, and tired individual, who feels very far from home and far from the me I know. But I do know there's hope. I know there is.
Thanks for reading. I really appreciate the feedback!! May peace and hope give you rest, wherever you are,
Sarah
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Musing
Dear friends,
I went for a drive today. I've been going on a lot of drives lately. While I was barn-sitting, I'd have about five hours free every day to use as I wished. I used a few of them to go driving and exploring the countryside. This evening, I was melancholy and a bit lonesome, so I went for a drive. I started out at about 7pm and hoped to make it to the west coast in time to see the sun set. I didn't make it, because there aren't any main roads along the west coast (at least not anywhere close to where I went). Oh well. It was still a pretty drive. And it only took about 45 minutes to go as far west as I could. Ha! Talk about a small country.
As I drive, I often wonder if I'd rather someone else be driving so that I can just look at the scenery without having to pay attention to the road. There is so much to look at and so much to take in; it's like I feel the pressure to have to remember everything I see so that I can fully enjoy it. But tonight I started thinking about it in a different way. I'll explain it here:
When I see a beautiful sunset, and I mean a beautiful sunset--red sky, puffy clouds, brilliant and glorious colors and textures, I am filled with awe and wonder. To do anything other than watch the sunset seems irreverent and much less important. And, every time, I want to remember it--take a mental picture so that I can remember it in days to come, it's just that beautiful.
Today, as I was watching the sunset, I was filled with awe and amazement, as I have been a lot lately. (Yes, the rumors are true. New Zealand is beautiful.) But I realized something: No matter how hard I try, I can't make myself remember something in the future. I can't take a mental picture of something and then force myself to remember it, in the future. Does that make sense? I can make it available to my future self, but I can't make my future self take advantage of it. Besides, only when I'm looking at a sunset do I remember the feeling of looking at a sunset; all other times of the day, it doesn't cross my mind. The same thing happens as I drive. The scenery is so beautiful, so green, so unique... but I don't remember it well. What a shame!
But is it a shame? Maybe the point of a beautiful sunset or beautiful scenery isn't to be remembered, but to be enjoyed in the moment. Like a good conversation with a friend. Who remembers all good conversations they've had with a friend? I'd assume that no one does. Yet the conversations (or moments of awe in nature) deeply affect us in ways that we probably won't understand. Besides, if the point was to remember everything, what mental capacity would we have to enjoy current things? If I spent time remembering a beautiful sunset, maybe I'd miss the one that's happening right now, in front of me. Same with conversations with friends. Relationships change, because we change. Everyone changes. Even our relationships with Holy Spirit change, because we change and He is ever revealing more depths of Himself to us. Trying to remember everything would be like putting down a stepping stone to cross a river, then trying to pick it up and take it with you as you continue crossing.
Yes, there are some things that need to stick in our memories. But to live the present so that it's a good story about the past to be told in the future... that's a bit confusing and maybe even messed up, and I need to stop living like it. I need to live in--and enjoy fully--the present.
That's all.
Thanks for reading. May peace and joy accompany you in whatever you do. For many of you, it's Thanksgiving today. Happy Thanksgiving. :)
Sarah
I went for a drive today. I've been going on a lot of drives lately. While I was barn-sitting, I'd have about five hours free every day to use as I wished. I used a few of them to go driving and exploring the countryside. This evening, I was melancholy and a bit lonesome, so I went for a drive. I started out at about 7pm and hoped to make it to the west coast in time to see the sun set. I didn't make it, because there aren't any main roads along the west coast (at least not anywhere close to where I went). Oh well. It was still a pretty drive. And it only took about 45 minutes to go as far west as I could. Ha! Talk about a small country.
As I drive, I often wonder if I'd rather someone else be driving so that I can just look at the scenery without having to pay attention to the road. There is so much to look at and so much to take in; it's like I feel the pressure to have to remember everything I see so that I can fully enjoy it. But tonight I started thinking about it in a different way. I'll explain it here:
When I see a beautiful sunset, and I mean a beautiful sunset--red sky, puffy clouds, brilliant and glorious colors and textures, I am filled with awe and wonder. To do anything other than watch the sunset seems irreverent and much less important. And, every time, I want to remember it--take a mental picture so that I can remember it in days to come, it's just that beautiful.
Today, as I was watching the sunset, I was filled with awe and amazement, as I have been a lot lately. (Yes, the rumors are true. New Zealand is beautiful.) But I realized something: No matter how hard I try, I can't make myself remember something in the future. I can't take a mental picture of something and then force myself to remember it, in the future. Does that make sense? I can make it available to my future self, but I can't make my future self take advantage of it. Besides, only when I'm looking at a sunset do I remember the feeling of looking at a sunset; all other times of the day, it doesn't cross my mind. The same thing happens as I drive. The scenery is so beautiful, so green, so unique... but I don't remember it well. What a shame!
But is it a shame? Maybe the point of a beautiful sunset or beautiful scenery isn't to be remembered, but to be enjoyed in the moment. Like a good conversation with a friend. Who remembers all good conversations they've had with a friend? I'd assume that no one does. Yet the conversations (or moments of awe in nature) deeply affect us in ways that we probably won't understand. Besides, if the point was to remember everything, what mental capacity would we have to enjoy current things? If I spent time remembering a beautiful sunset, maybe I'd miss the one that's happening right now, in front of me. Same with conversations with friends. Relationships change, because we change. Everyone changes. Even our relationships with Holy Spirit change, because we change and He is ever revealing more depths of Himself to us. Trying to remember everything would be like putting down a stepping stone to cross a river, then trying to pick it up and take it with you as you continue crossing.
Yes, there are some things that need to stick in our memories. But to live the present so that it's a good story about the past to be told in the future... that's a bit confusing and maybe even messed up, and I need to stop living like it. I need to live in--and enjoy fully--the present.
That's all.
Thanks for reading. May peace and joy accompany you in whatever you do. For many of you, it's Thanksgiving today. Happy Thanksgiving. :)
Sarah
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Accidental (and bloody) exposure.
Dear friend,
The sky is blue with puffy white clouds, the breezy wind is blowing and making a nice sound through the trees and fields, and the spring flowers continue to bloom and blossom.
And I'm sick.
Do I have the flu? No. Congestion? No. A sore throat? Nope, not even a sore throat.
Then how am I sick, you ask with a perplexed look on your face.
Well, I'll tell you.
I'm homesick.
Yes, it's true. Rachel sent me a great article about students who study abroad. It informs the reader that there are charted ups and downs that happen in the emotions and mentalities of young people who move to a different country for a while. According to it, I'm heading down for a low point. I'll tell you how it's happening:
I woke up early this morning, as I have done for the past few mornings, to breakfast myself and the horses. I didn't have a lot to do for the horses, because I'd put everything together that I could for them last night, and all I had to do was put in a few things that have to wait to the last minute, mix them up (with my hands, of course), and distribute them. I was less prepared for myself, however, and was out of breakfast food. So I decided to open a can of beans. (Please remember I'm not living with Arna and Peter this week--I'm on my own, and when the opportunity provides itself, I hopelessly still live like a college student.)
Once I got the can opener positioned and ready, I realized it was broken. While it would pinch the can just fine and even puncture it slightly and the thing you turn turned obligingly, the gear on the other side of it wouldn't turn with it. I might have given up, had there been other food. But I'd been looking forward to those beans (yes, I know, I'm strange), so I decided to be resourceful and try to open the can, anyway. The can opener could still puncture, after all!
So I started on it. I kept pinching the handles together and moved the opener up and down, up and down, around the can. It worked! At least... it mostly worked. It would only work for maybe a couple inches, then the rim of the can would be too bent out of shape to continue in that section. So I'd move to another section and start again. I'd been doing this process for about a minute when I decided to get a spoon and try to pry part of the cut sections up, so that maybe I could pour out the beans. So I got a spoon and started prying.
This next paragraph is one that you may or may not want to skip over, depending on your stomach. You can skip to the one after it, if you'd like.
Yes. My hand slipped. And as the kinetic energy took my hand towards the can, the pried up part of the lid neatly sliced off part of my index finger's top knuckle. I won't tell you how much skin was left on the sharp edge of the can, but the section missing from my finger was about 7mm by 3mm, and possibly 1 to 1.5mm deep. (That's really deep.)
All I knew at first (before inspecting the damage) was that my right index finger had roughly brushed past a sharp object, and it had the pre-pain sensation. By reflexes, I grabbed it with my left hand and held it tightly, afraid to look at it. Finally I had to (because not only did I need to see it, I was curious), and if there had been anyone around with whom I felt comfortable, I would have started freaking out and let them handle everything. But I was alone, and everyone else on the property (who are nice, but I don't know very well) were still asleep.
So there I was, standing at the kitchen sink, clutching my finger. I tried to think of what to use to stop the bleeding, but since it wasn't my house, I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't use the towels because I didn't want to stain them, and the only other absorbent thing to use was toilet paper, but I didn't want to use that either because it might leave particles behind, once removed. So I just stood at the sink, occasionally rinsing my finger, squealing (I would have yelled, but it wasn't my house) at the growing sting (and the experience), trying desperately to not freak out.
Finally, I went to the bathroom, remembering a box of band-aids I'd found before while rummaging for more toilet paper, and tried looking for more first aid supplies. Nothing besides the aforementioned band-aids. I took one and went to the stable, hoping to find a first aid kit there. Still nothing. The owners had taken it with them on their trip with the two horses (understandable).
I rinsed my finger (for the tenth time... it was really bleeding), dried it off as well as I could without leaving any blood on the towel behind, and hurried to get the band-aid on it, tightly. Success! But I wasn't about to celebrate, because I was still trying very valiantly (in vain) to not go into hysterics.
The whole time this process was going on, all I wanted to do was be home as a ten-year-old and have Mom take care of it (with curious siblings either watching or comforting me by telling a story of a girl who once cut her finger and how she got through the ordeal with bravery) and then have something exciting to show Dad when he got home from work. (See? Homesick. And not just for a place, but for an era.)
I felt like a scared little girl, ever so far away from Home, having to deal with a crisis as a grown-up, with a grown-up job still waiting to be done (the horses still remained to be fed). I wanted to call Dad over skype, but that was impractical as I don't have internet in the flat and the battery of my computer is limited. And what could he do for my finger, anyway? He wouldn't be able to bandage it, let alone see it properly. So I did the next best thing and texted Katherine. She advised I call Arna, so I did.
Really, since the cut wasn't bleeding through the band-aid (mighty little piece of plastic!), Arna said it should be fine, and she'd take a look at it once we both got to her house. Good. That's what I needed to hear. I really just needed to hear a mother tell me that it would be okay and that I wasn't going to lose a finger. She didn't say those words, exactly, but her practicality conveyed the same amount of comfort.
I fed the horses (doing everything with my left hand and keeping my right hand up and out of the way to keep it from getting dirty), started some laundry, and then put the three horses out to pasture with the morning helper. Once I cleared the plan of leaving for the morning with one of the family residents (who had just woken up), I packed up my computer and everything I'd need (but forgot my webcam! Ugh!!), and fled to Arna's, still holding my finger up to maybe keep the blood pressure out of it and trying to not freak out. (I did fairly well when I was around the other two this morning at keeping the freaking out at bay, I think, but when I was out of sight and hearing I expressed it as silently and controlled as I could manage.)
Once at Arna's (who hadn't gotten home yet), I made coffee and toast (breakfast!), marched down to my room, plugged in my computer, and let loose of everything through writing this anecdote.
I haven't just exposed a deep part of my finger, though. This experience has rudely cut deeply into--I don't know what to call it... maybe it's my heart?--as well. For the past month I've been learning how to relax and enjoy life again at a truer level and actually live at a home with parental figures. Here, I'm fed, I'm cared for, and while I'm still an adult and am treated as one, I rely on Peter and Arna a lot for wisdom and knowledge as I'm learning a new place and a new way to get around, which really plunges me back, in some ways, into being a child. Cutting my finger provided the vulnerable opportunity for all of this to come to the surface to be seen. Does that make sense? I hope it does, because that's the only way I can think to express it.
Now that everything is all written out and processed, I suppose I'm a bit grateful for the accident. I've known the humor in it from the start (come on... I cut my finger and went into hysterics. It's funny... I get that) and I'm sure I'll laugh about it later. But for now I'll stay in this contemplative state and enjoy the calmness that comes with it. Though I'm still really looking forward to Arna properly wrapping my finger, and not so much to having to wear a glove at work for the next few days. Oh well. Healing takes time, no matter what good the wound inflicts.
Thanks for reading, and may a peace that reminds you of precious childhood envelop you with a hug, and may you know His Name as Comfortor.
Sincerely,
Sarah
The sky is blue with puffy white clouds, the breezy wind is blowing and making a nice sound through the trees and fields, and the spring flowers continue to bloom and blossom.
And I'm sick.
Do I have the flu? No. Congestion? No. A sore throat? Nope, not even a sore throat.
Then how am I sick, you ask with a perplexed look on your face.
Well, I'll tell you.
I'm homesick.
Yes, it's true. Rachel sent me a great article about students who study abroad. It informs the reader that there are charted ups and downs that happen in the emotions and mentalities of young people who move to a different country for a while. According to it, I'm heading down for a low point. I'll tell you how it's happening:
I woke up early this morning, as I have done for the past few mornings, to breakfast myself and the horses. I didn't have a lot to do for the horses, because I'd put everything together that I could for them last night, and all I had to do was put in a few things that have to wait to the last minute, mix them up (with my hands, of course), and distribute them. I was less prepared for myself, however, and was out of breakfast food. So I decided to open a can of beans. (Please remember I'm not living with Arna and Peter this week--I'm on my own, and when the opportunity provides itself, I hopelessly still live like a college student.)
Once I got the can opener positioned and ready, I realized it was broken. While it would pinch the can just fine and even puncture it slightly and the thing you turn turned obligingly, the gear on the other side of it wouldn't turn with it. I might have given up, had there been other food. But I'd been looking forward to those beans (yes, I know, I'm strange), so I decided to be resourceful and try to open the can, anyway. The can opener could still puncture, after all!
So I started on it. I kept pinching the handles together and moved the opener up and down, up and down, around the can. It worked! At least... it mostly worked. It would only work for maybe a couple inches, then the rim of the can would be too bent out of shape to continue in that section. So I'd move to another section and start again. I'd been doing this process for about a minute when I decided to get a spoon and try to pry part of the cut sections up, so that maybe I could pour out the beans. So I got a spoon and started prying.
This next paragraph is one that you may or may not want to skip over, depending on your stomach. You can skip to the one after it, if you'd like.
Yes. My hand slipped. And as the kinetic energy took my hand towards the can, the pried up part of the lid neatly sliced off part of my index finger's top knuckle. I won't tell you how much skin was left on the sharp edge of the can, but the section missing from my finger was about 7mm by 3mm, and possibly 1 to 1.5mm deep. (That's really deep.)
All I knew at first (before inspecting the damage) was that my right index finger had roughly brushed past a sharp object, and it had the pre-pain sensation. By reflexes, I grabbed it with my left hand and held it tightly, afraid to look at it. Finally I had to (because not only did I need to see it, I was curious), and if there had been anyone around with whom I felt comfortable, I would have started freaking out and let them handle everything. But I was alone, and everyone else on the property (who are nice, but I don't know very well) were still asleep.
So there I was, standing at the kitchen sink, clutching my finger. I tried to think of what to use to stop the bleeding, but since it wasn't my house, I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't use the towels because I didn't want to stain them, and the only other absorbent thing to use was toilet paper, but I didn't want to use that either because it might leave particles behind, once removed. So I just stood at the sink, occasionally rinsing my finger, squealing (I would have yelled, but it wasn't my house) at the growing sting (and the experience), trying desperately to not freak out.
Finally, I went to the bathroom, remembering a box of band-aids I'd found before while rummaging for more toilet paper, and tried looking for more first aid supplies. Nothing besides the aforementioned band-aids. I took one and went to the stable, hoping to find a first aid kit there. Still nothing. The owners had taken it with them on their trip with the two horses (understandable).
I rinsed my finger (for the tenth time... it was really bleeding), dried it off as well as I could without leaving any blood on the towel behind, and hurried to get the band-aid on it, tightly. Success! But I wasn't about to celebrate, because I was still trying very valiantly (in vain) to not go into hysterics.
The whole time this process was going on, all I wanted to do was be home as a ten-year-old and have Mom take care of it (with curious siblings either watching or comforting me by telling a story of a girl who once cut her finger and how she got through the ordeal with bravery) and then have something exciting to show Dad when he got home from work. (See? Homesick. And not just for a place, but for an era.)
I felt like a scared little girl, ever so far away from Home, having to deal with a crisis as a grown-up, with a grown-up job still waiting to be done (the horses still remained to be fed). I wanted to call Dad over skype, but that was impractical as I don't have internet in the flat and the battery of my computer is limited. And what could he do for my finger, anyway? He wouldn't be able to bandage it, let alone see it properly. So I did the next best thing and texted Katherine. She advised I call Arna, so I did.
Really, since the cut wasn't bleeding through the band-aid (mighty little piece of plastic!), Arna said it should be fine, and she'd take a look at it once we both got to her house. Good. That's what I needed to hear. I really just needed to hear a mother tell me that it would be okay and that I wasn't going to lose a finger. She didn't say those words, exactly, but her practicality conveyed the same amount of comfort.
I fed the horses (doing everything with my left hand and keeping my right hand up and out of the way to keep it from getting dirty), started some laundry, and then put the three horses out to pasture with the morning helper. Once I cleared the plan of leaving for the morning with one of the family residents (who had just woken up), I packed up my computer and everything I'd need (but forgot my webcam! Ugh!!), and fled to Arna's, still holding my finger up to maybe keep the blood pressure out of it and trying to not freak out. (I did fairly well when I was around the other two this morning at keeping the freaking out at bay, I think, but when I was out of sight and hearing I expressed it as silently and controlled as I could manage.)
Once at Arna's (who hadn't gotten home yet), I made coffee and toast (breakfast!), marched down to my room, plugged in my computer, and let loose of everything through writing this anecdote.
I haven't just exposed a deep part of my finger, though. This experience has rudely cut deeply into--I don't know what to call it... maybe it's my heart?--as well. For the past month I've been learning how to relax and enjoy life again at a truer level and actually live at a home with parental figures. Here, I'm fed, I'm cared for, and while I'm still an adult and am treated as one, I rely on Peter and Arna a lot for wisdom and knowledge as I'm learning a new place and a new way to get around, which really plunges me back, in some ways, into being a child. Cutting my finger provided the vulnerable opportunity for all of this to come to the surface to be seen. Does that make sense? I hope it does, because that's the only way I can think to express it.
Now that everything is all written out and processed, I suppose I'm a bit grateful for the accident. I've known the humor in it from the start (come on... I cut my finger and went into hysterics. It's funny... I get that) and I'm sure I'll laugh about it later. But for now I'll stay in this contemplative state and enjoy the calmness that comes with it. Though I'm still really looking forward to Arna properly wrapping my finger, and not so much to having to wear a glove at work for the next few days. Oh well. Healing takes time, no matter what good the wound inflicts.
Thanks for reading, and may a peace that reminds you of precious childhood envelop you with a hug, and may you know His Name as Comfortor.
Sincerely,
Sarah
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Adventures all around!
This week has been very interesting, mostly in a good way! Saturday was a gloomy day, both in the weather and my disposition, so on Sunday I skipped church and went on a very long drive. It was so beautiful! I took a lot of pictures (that still need to be uploaded to facebook), went on a long walk, and fearlessly drove down roads that looked interesting. I drove about an hour north and almost made it to Port Albert (you can look it up, if you want to). It was really, really good. I'd forgotten how therapeutic driving is for me, especially through beautiful land. It was also nice because the area I drove through looked a lot like the foothills near home in the spring. That was comforting and a bit familiar.
On Monday, I went back to work. My employers said a trip was coming up this week, and would I mind staying at the stable for a week? They offered a flat that I could stay in (it's in the same building as the barn. Super cool!) and would provide food for me. Sure! I can do that!
So yesterday we packed them up into the "truck" (an RV with a section in the back for the horses), went through a list of the stuff for me to do here, and off they went. They'll be gone for six days. My responsibilities are to feed the horses in the morning, move three of them out into "paddocks" (pastures), muck out the "boxes" (stalls) they've just vacated, make sure they have water, then bring them in at night and feed them again. There are four horses who live out in paddocks, so I've got to check/refill their waters, as well as feed them in the evenings. It might sound like a lot of work, but it isn't. Also, someone comes in the mornings to help me move them, and someone comes in the evenings, as well, because one of the horses to be moved is a mare with a foal (barely a week old!), another is a pregnant mare (who's due in a few weeks, so I've got to keep my eye on her), and the other is a stallion (sweet guy unless a mare's around). Ha! No, I don't mind help when moving them.
Last night was my first night here. Before the evening feeding, I went back to the Mountains' and packed a bag, then went to the "plaza" (mall) to get some groceries. (Yes, Rachel, I got lollies, as well!) Then I came back, did the rest of the duties, then settled in to the flat. It's a nice place. I watched a movie, then went to bed. The flat doesn't have internet, so I wasn't able to sit on facebook as I usually do in the evening. (Right now I'm sitting on a stool in the barn, waiting for a water bucket to fill up with water.)
Interesting thing about this place: I have it fixed in my head that north is east, east is south, south is west, and west is north. It doesn't even matter where the sun rises and sets! So when I woke up this morning, the sun was rising in the south, and when it sets tonight, it will go down in the north. And I can't correct it! Ugh. Oh well. I guess it'll just be interesting.
Monday was really good. I was really quite happy. But then on Tuesday I started getting grumpy and insecure with EVERYTHING and it seemed like a dark cloud came between me and the sun and just sat there. It stayed there all of Tuesday and all of Wednesday, and Thursday (with everyone leaving and me settling in) was overwhelming. But Arna prayed for me, as I did, too. Because I'm a child of God, the Most High. Darkness really has no place around me. And you know what? Perfect love casts out all fear. Because I have accepted Jesus's forgiveness and sacrifice, Holy Spirit (Who IS love) abides in me and I abide in Him. So fear has no place around me, either. So these thoughts of insecurity and fear--they have no choice but to leave! ("SubMIT to God, reSIST the devil, and HE WILL FLEE FROM YOU!!" Imagine a hip-jerking jig to that. Thank you, Scott Hansen.) See? So I don't know WHY I all of a sudden came under attack, though it might be because I was relaxing and happy with Holy Spirit (and *someone* never likes that), and it also might be because something (or someone(s)?) big is going to come into my live. I don't know. But I know that Father's got me, and He will never leave me. Take THAT big cloud. Yeah. You shrivel up. That's what you need to do. Bye bye.
Haha! Anyway. That's how I've been. I love you all, and I hope and pray that the peace of Jesus covers you, and that you are able to submit everything to Him and relax in His arms, because either they're wide open and waiting for you, or you're wrapped up in them, already. Oh, how He loves you. Peace.
His humble and grateful servant,
Sarah
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Developments!
My feet are sore, my muscles are tired, my face is burned, and my nose is still trying to get the crusties out of it. And I am quite, quite happy. You see, I got a job.
Remember when Arna and I went job hunting? Actually, maybe I didn't tell you. Okay. So about a week and a half ago (the second Monday I was here), Arna took me for a drive and we visited a riding stable (here they're called "equestrian centers"), a veterinary clinic, and a feed store (called an "equestrian supplies shop"). At each place, I went up to the person who looked like they were in charge, introduced myself (with a winning smile), and said I was looking for a job.
The people at the stable were really nice and liked me, and asked if I could come out in a couple of weekends (as they were busy during the next one) to see how everything is run there. I gave them my resume (which they were impressed with... yay university degree!), they gave me their number, and we promised to keep contact and figure everything out later in the week.
At the vet clinic, the two women seemed like they considered themselves too busy to be bothered, and even told me there weren't any job opportunities in the whole of Dairy Flat (the area that we were in). I laughed silently, as we had just come from a stable that had seemed promising. It's okay. I didn't want to work inside at a clinic, anyway. :)
At the feed store, I talked to a very nice lady (who was also impressed with my resume) who thought she might know of an opportunity for me to work with a family who breed water-buffalo. (Water-buffalo?!) We exchanged contact information as well, and Arna and I went home, pleased with the results of our hunt.
A few days later, I texted both the stable and the feed store, and only the stable got back to me, saying, "Hi! I haven't forgotten you!" and promised to contact me after their busy weekend.
On Tuesday, the stable people texted me and asked if I could come the following morning! I said yes, and Arna gave me a ride to them on Wednesday morning.
Before I continue with that thread, I need to catch you up on the car stuff. On Saturday, Danny and I went hunting for cars. We found a cute red hatchback that seemed to be in good condition (it was AFTER I asked Holy Father to drop a car into my lap), and I decided to get it checked out by a mechanic. So on Monday afternoon, the mechanic called and said that it would need a good amount of work done--about $800... which was very disappointing. So Arna and I (though mostly Arna; she's amazing) looked online for more cars, and on Tuesday we went to the city and looked at a few. (We also visited Arna's step-father, which was very nice.) Two of the three cars we looked at were possibilities, but by the end of it, I was so tired, so grumpy, and so overwhelmed with life that I didn't trust myself to make any decisions. As we drove home, we decided to stop by the car yard that the red hatchback was stationed at, where I planned to tell the dealer that it was a no-go. Once we got there, though, he said that he'd lower the price by about $900 and fix the essentials enough to make it safe and sturdy, as well as get a WOF for it (Warrant Of Fitness, something all cars are required by law to get every six months), and three months registration. Lowering the price this much now made this car (my favorite of all my options) the least expensive and most convenient (all of the other options' registrations and WOFs were either expired or were soon to be), and I already knew everything that was wrong or okay with it because of the mechanic's work, so I prayed again. Father basically said, "Well, what do you want to do?" I decided I really did like it and all things considered, it was a fine choice. So I decided to get it. (To which He replied, "See? I told you I dropped it into your lap!" Though I did have to do a whole lot to confirm it! *sigh* Oh well.)
So that was on Tuesday.
On Wednesday morning, Arna took me to the equestrian center, where instead of being shown around the place and interviewed for the job (as I was expecting), I started work. I mucked out stalls, filled them with fluffy shavings (nice horse bedding), showered a horse, walked another one around, stood with one as a farrier worked on his feet, etc. etc, regular barn work. (Now I really know that horses are horses, no matter what part of the planet you're on. They eat, poop, and need exercise. And this, I am quite familiar with!) I worked there from 8 to 2:30, when Arna came to pick me up. It was more work than I've done in a long time, but none of it was foreign and the people were really nice to talk to. (No joke, I felt like I was in a movie. These big, beautiful horses around, in an area with green, rolling hills, the clouds drizzling every once in a while, and everyone talking in delightful accents! We even stopped for a break of coffee and tea!) At the end of it, I was quite tired, but happy to be back home (with the horses).
The car wasn't ready to be picked up until 6, so I got a nice nap between getting home and going to sign the paperwork and everything. Once that all got done, they handed me the keys, showed me where everything was in the car (some things are backwards, but nothing too important; I'll just probably turn on the windshield wipers when I want to turn left sometimes), and bade me "good luck." Arna led me home where I realized I was getting stiff from my activity and VERY tired from all the new excitement of the day. I had a pleasant evening, went to bed early (before 10:00! Can you believe it?!), and had anxiety-ridden dreams (oh, how I hate those).
I was nervous to drive to the stable all by myself, and I had to fill up with petrol on the way. But I did it just fine (I'm sure Arna prayed for me, and it worked), and arrived at work at 8am sharp. I was there until 6. During the day, I did the barn chores that I also did the day before, as well as watch a vet examine a few horses (he said maybe I can go with him on his appointments sometime!), do spring cleaning in a few closets and shelves, and, of course, sit and drink tea with everyone.
It was very pleasant... and hard work. I am SORE. My feet are KILLING ME. My poor face didn't have any sunscreen on it, and the sun came out at about 11, so it got a lot of it. I had fun driving home, though--fun! That's a good thing, because it would be so miserable to not enjoy driving.
Okay, that's the scoop.
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| Water-buffalo. Don't worry. I didn't know what they looked like, either. Thanks, Google. |
May peace that you don't understand cover you wherever you are, however you need it to. Thanks for reading,
Sarah
P.S. I'd put pictures of my car up, but I don't have any and I am NOT about to walk on my poor feet out to get any. I'll put some up later. You might like this picture, though.
Monday, November 7, 2011
An overdue update
I'd like to say that I haven't blogged because I was too busy, but that's not the case. Rather, that is the case, but it doesn't seem like it. For the past week, I have mostly stayed at home, in my room. Busy. "With what?" you ask. With facebook! And skype! And... writing letters! And....... reading! And............... sometimes taking a walk to the shore! And.........................
Highlights!
The highlights of this week have been talking to and bonding with Arna (she's amazing, my NZ mom!), going car hunting with Danny (we even polished our buffalo guns but to no avail, though we had a very nice time getting to know each other in the few hours we spent together), feeling like part of the family with everyone over for meals (especially for pancakes!! I love pancakes), and sitting on the shore, watching the water (why is it so therapeutic and never boring?). Also, I got to play uke and egg and sing with Danny and Katherine for worship in Church on Sunday. It was awesome. So far, restoration has been started in areas that I didn't know needed restoration, as well as in areas that I did know about. Good. I need that!
I'd be lying if I told you everything has been easy peasy, though. Of course, as I've moved across the earth from almost everything and everyone I know, I've had times when I've felt alone and lost. And those times are no fun. The thoughts that come into my head are, "What have I done? Why am I here? And why haven't I moved on to getting a car and getting a job? Why haven't I made friends here yet?" etc. etc. It's hard. But usually by the end of the evening, Arna has made me feel better or I've gotten to talk to friends on skype or facebook or Holy Spirit finally gets it through my head to RELAX. Ha.
Speaking of relaxing, that's really what He keeps telling me to do. "Sarah, you really need to relax. Yes, you think it'd be nice to have a car already. And yes, you feel the pressure of your concept of responsibility to be out there at a job. But you've given yourself to Me and I'm controlling the timing. And I'm going to keep you here, right here, until you relax." After He tells this to me, I groan and say, "Fine!" which really isn't relaxing, and I know it. Oh well.
But that's an unfair picture I just painted for you. There have been times when I've been able to relax very well, and they're becoming more and more often. Do you realize how important it is that we relax? It's so important! Granted, relaxing is crazy hard to do sometimes, but I'd wager that we have the opportunity to do it a lot more than we think we do. "I have a stressful job," "I don't have money," "I'm just going through a lot right now," are excuses that are common (that I've used many times). Well, maybe your job wouldn't be so stressful if you relaxed as much as you can on your end. Maybe your relaxation will influence others to relax as well, thereby making the environment less stressful. Stress gives of pheromones, you know. Clear those stress pheromones out of the air! And maybe stressing about not having money doesn't do any good. Maybe a calm and relaxed approach to looking for a way to earn money would be more efficient and less unpleasant. Besides, who would want to hire someone into their (possibly) stressful environment who's already stressed? Relaxed people are more attractive, and you know it (so does your potential employer). And maybe, just maybe, if you relax more in what you're going through (whether you have ANY ounce of control over it or not... if you can relax), a relaxed state of mind is much more able to handle difficult and hellish times.
"But how can I relax?! If I do, everything is going to fall apart!!" Yeah, that's what I said, too. And my question in response to yours: Is it, though?
When I rode horses weekly, I learned a lot about relaxing while maintaining control of the horse. If you're all tense as you try to ride, your horse will sense it and will mimic it--it's what they do. There were countless times when I was trying (and failing) to cue the horse to do something but would get frustrated. Then the horse would get frustrated (mimicking me). Then I'd get more frustrated. And so would the horse. We would get more and more tense, till finally my instructor would have to yell at me to relax and let go of the tension. See, tension is NOT a good ruler. It really doesn't get anything good done. Once I would finally relax for a while and regain my composure (the horse, as well), we'd try again, and eventually get it. See? Being relaxed, you'll be much more able to get things done (or get through things) than if you hang onto the tension. You'll be healthier, too. (Yes, I realize I sound like a hippy. But come on, you've got to see my point.)
Ha, I really didn't know this was going to turn into a sermon. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it!
May peace and rest find you and cover you in a cozy snuggy, wherever you are and in whatever you're going through. Thanks for reading,
Sarah
Highlights!
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| Going for a walk on the shore. |
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| A very clever picture of Arna taking a picture of me. |
Speaking of relaxing, that's really what He keeps telling me to do. "Sarah, you really need to relax. Yes, you think it'd be nice to have a car already. And yes, you feel the pressure of your concept of responsibility to be out there at a job. But you've given yourself to Me and I'm controlling the timing. And I'm going to keep you here, right here, until you relax." After He tells this to me, I groan and say, "Fine!" which really isn't relaxing, and I know it. Oh well.
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| Left to right: Arna, Peter, Danny (my brother), Glenn, and Debbie. |
"But how can I relax?! If I do, everything is going to fall apart!!" Yeah, that's what I said, too. And my question in response to yours: Is it, though?
When I rode horses weekly, I learned a lot about relaxing while maintaining control of the horse. If you're all tense as you try to ride, your horse will sense it and will mimic it--it's what they do. There were countless times when I was trying (and failing) to cue the horse to do something but would get frustrated. Then the horse would get frustrated (mimicking me). Then I'd get more frustrated. And so would the horse. We would get more and more tense, till finally my instructor would have to yell at me to relax and let go of the tension. See, tension is NOT a good ruler. It really doesn't get anything good done. Once I would finally relax for a while and regain my composure (the horse, as well), we'd try again, and eventually get it. See? Being relaxed, you'll be much more able to get things done (or get through things) than if you hang onto the tension. You'll be healthier, too. (Yes, I realize I sound like a hippy. But come on, you've got to see my point.)
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| The tide is out. When it's in, the water meets the cliffs. |
Ha, I really didn't know this was going to turn into a sermon. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it!
May peace and rest find you and cover you in a cozy snuggy, wherever you are and in whatever you're going through. Thanks for reading,
Sarah
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Short update
I have now been here for two and a half weeks. Since the last time I wrote, I've gone on walks, helped Arna start a knitting project, looked for a car (and maybe found one!), enjoyed many home cooked meals, and generally just relaxed (which is all you can do when you don't have a car... I really don't mind). That's all for now, because I've just realized I'll probably feel more inspired to write later.So until next time!
Sarah
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Pictures from 29-30 October
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| Cloudy on Saturday morning. It started raining soon after this picture was taken. |
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| This beauty behind me is normal for the area. I asked Katherine and Danny if they get used to it, and they said yes, though it's hard to think of a place they'd like to go to on holiday. |
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| Waiting for some delicious takeaway for dinner. |
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| I love that we're all silly. |
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| Part of the view from the top story deck at Peter and Arna's. |
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| Part of the view, with me in it. :) |
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| Another part of the view from the top story deck. |
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| Across the bay. |
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| How crazy is it that people LIVE here?! |
The first few days
During the first couple of days, I was very tired and could only manage to keep my head above water and not freak out. Don't get me wrong--I've enjoyed myself immensely; but yesterday (Saturday) became a bit much.
Katherine, Danny, Peter, and I went into town to run errands. As we were driving, I said, "We're going north, right?" To my surprise, they said, "No, we're actually going south!" Whether you believe it or not, the angle of the sun was so different from California that I really thought we were going the opposite way to what we were really going! That messed me up, quite frankly. I've always wanted to know where north was because then I know my surroundings. So to know that I was completely turned around (and not feel like it) was very disconcerting, to say the least.
The men dropped us women off at the shops and then went on with their business. Katherine and I signed me up for a bank account and put some money in first, then did our shopping. The whole time we were walking from shop to shop, I kept trying to get it into my head that north was south, east was west, etc. etc. Then other things started to get to me. The NZ dollar is different than the US dollar. The culture is slightly different, too, but in such a sneaky way that I became extremely self conscious to not do anything socially considered faux pas. Then the fact that I am the one with accent and everyone else speaks normally was icing on the cake. My poor brain became so muddled and confused that my decision-making paradigm fell apart. I was indecisive, hesitant, and not much of a person I enjoy being around. (Having to remember to say "I'm sorry?" instead of "What?" when I couldn't hear what someone said was SO exasperating, as well.)
We were done shopping in the early afternoon. To my wonder (and dismay), my interpretation of the angle of the sun said that it was late morning. The sun was in the east, I could have sworn it! But I knew (with my intellect, and nothing else) that the sun was in the west, and that north was south. So, so strange.
Later, Danny, Katherine, and I went to look at a car that I might possibly buy. Nothing super exciting, though it's manual and not automatic. I don't know how to drive manual. And the stick is on the left, not the right. Hah! At least the clutch, gas, and break are all in the same order as in the States! I'm willing to learn how to drive it, though. We'll take it into the shop tomorrow and see if everything is on the up-and-up.
The rest of the day wound down nicely. Katherine, Danny, and I had some dinner, then they brought me home. I had a quiet evening in my room for a while, then Peter, Arna, and I had some ice cream and fruit, and I played them a few songs on my uke. I went to bed around 10, satisfied that at least I had had a long day to peg my exhaustion to!
I woke up an hour earlier than I needed to this morning. I decided to stay in bed so that I could rest up as much as I could (something I neglected to do yesterday). I'd forgotten how nice it is to just lie in bed and doze in and out! After an hour of this, my alarm clock (a new cellphone) went off with this: "It's time to get up. The time is 8:00. It's time to get up. The time is 8:00." It was a harsh (and almost bitter?) voice. Cold and uncaring. I'll make sure to change the alarm to a more pleasant tune next time. Either that, or I'll just name her Judith and have someone to yell at every morning. :)
That's really all I have to say right now. Except that we went to church and had a nice time. I think everyone is coming over this afternoon for tea and muffins, which will be nice. But for now, I'll enjoy sipping my tea next to an open window, and enjoy listening to birds and distant waves. I'll post more pictures.
Thanks for reading! Extra peace for you, wherever you are,
Sarah
P.S. Today is Sunday. For those of you in the States, I am 20 hours ahead. An easy way to figure this out is to take four hours away from your time and add a day. So if it's 8:30pm on Saturday for you, then it's 4:30pm on Sunday for me. See?
P.P.S. I tried vegemite, and I liked it! Peter put a thin (very thin) layer of it between a cracker and cheese, and I enjoyed it. I even had some for breakfast this morning on a crumpet. I'm also starting to enjoy my tea with just milk, no sugar. I'll make a fine Kiwi yet. :)
Thursday, October 27, 2011
The trip
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| At SFO, near the end of the 3 hour layover. |
I sank into the hammock on the balcony for the last time and thought for a bit. Why was I leaving? There wasn't any way to get out of it, but I needed to know the answer. And here it is: It's not that I was leaving, it's that I was going. The important point was that I was going to New Zealand, and a necessary thing for that to happen was that I'd have to leave California.
Finally figuring that out, I went on with my day.
Mary and Dad picked me up and took me to the airport. They helped me with my luggage and walked me to security. There Bree met us, and Dad and Mary said goodbye and left. Bree and I sat and had a nice chat, and said goodbye. As she left, I went through security. And what do you know, one of my college professors was right behind me! We discovered we were on the same flight to SFO, so we waited together and had a nice chat.
The flight was 1.5 hours late. No matter, I had a 3 hour layover in SFO. It was entertaining (is that wrong?) to hear others freak out over their phones: "Is there ANY other flight that I can take later once I get to SFO?!" We later found out that the flight was late because the President was in SFO, and the whole airport was shut down for security. And it was funny to hear all the Republicans (most of the people around me--it is Fresno) grumble and talk about what a "great" president he is, making them too late to catch their next flight, yada yada. I wasn't concerned. "God," I prayed, "just get me there by 7. That's all I ask."
He did! We got in to SFO around 5. During the flight, I sat next to a nice old man who complained about how young people do things nowadays and said I was too young to be knitting ("That's something my wife does!"), and generally was pleasantly crotchety. As it turns out, he played with the Chargers football team while they were still from LA and not San Diego! He also said he had sat next to Elizabeth Taylor one time, as close to him as I was sitting! I didn't catch his name, so I can't research him, but that's okay. I enjoyed him while he was next to me. Near landing I started worrying about how I was going to navigate SFO, because the last time I'd been there I was 11 with my whole family, and it had been daunting. But once I was actually there, I realized it was much easier because not only am I now 23, I'm only one person and not a young family of 8.
I was 3 hours early to the next gate and the only one there. It was so nice to simply sit, alone, after two weeks of running around like a crazy person! I watched a movie on my ipod touch (thanks, Josh!), knitted, and sat. Eventually, more and more people came and sat around me, then we boarded and took off.
I got a window! I was in a row of three seats. There was a nice lady (from NZ) on the isle, then the seat between us was empty. We both rejoiced about that, and chatted for a bit. I liked her.
The last LONG flight I'd been on was one from Germany to Salt Lake City (I think?) when I was 11. It had been very long and boring. This flight was about the same length (12 hours), but not nearly so boring. I watched two movies (on my very own screen in the seat in front of me), "X Men: First Class" and "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" (two movies I've been wanting to see), and slept. I may have slept for about 6 hours! Hooray!!
We landed! I again navigated a large airport all by myself (with the help of signs, of course). The only hold up was my visa had the wrong birthdate on it (oops). So I waited for 5-10 minutes until a nice man told me that it's okay for this time, but I'll need to go to Immigration and change it if I want to leave and then come back. Shew! That was scary!
I wasn't sure when the airport was going to end, but I finally walked through a large doorway and found Katherine smiling and waving at me. It was so good to see her face and know that I could hug her! (The only thing skype is missing is a hug application. I don't know how it would work, but there might be something there...) We greeted each other and started the trip to Peter and Arna's house (my host family and Katherine's parents-in-law).
The combination of being tired from a long trip (and two weeks of preparation), being in a new place, realizing I would never experience Wednesday, October 26, 2011 and hearing Katherine talk in a different accent than any I've heard (acquired after almost two years of living here) was almost overwhelming. But I made it through! When we got to my new home, Peter and Arna welcomed me. Arna fed me breakfast, and the rest of the day ensued with unpacking, napping, chatting and taking a walk on the beach with Arna, more unpacking, and chatting with friends on facebook and skype. In the evening we had dinner (Peter, Arna, Katherine, Danny, and me), then everyone but Katherine left and we got to spend some time together. As the evening came to a close, we had a dessert and I decided it was time to hit the sack.
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| The view from my bedroom. |
Though pleasant and peaceful, it was a really long day. But that's just because of my fatigue and the fact that I was in a brand new place, not having any idea of what anything was going to be like. Besides, the first day is always the longest.
Thanks for reading! May you be covered in peace right where you are,
Sarah
Introduction
Dear friends,
Welcome to my new blog! Here I will keep account of the things that happen during my trip in New Zealand. Many of you have asked me to keep you in the loop, and I thought a blog would satisfy that request nicely. I'll post pictures, videos, and give account to random adventures. The more you comment, the more likely I am to keep this up! We'll see how well this works out.
Thanks for reading,
Sarah
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