Video Games & Speedo's . . . Oh My!

Well, I did promise to share the ongoing mysteries of online dating with the masses. Two weeks in, and at least the nervous flutter is gone. Online dating is the death of stomach butterflies. I’ve had some very odd matches so far. One fine young man listed his job title as “Bouncer at a Gentleman’s Club”. In his pictures, he is a very fit looking gentleman laying out on pool furniture in a speedo.

A speedo.

I feel that EHarmony may have received skewed test results from me somehow. In what universe would I ever be interested in a speedo wearing bouncer??

I digress.

I was also matched with a man who stated, right up front, that his favorite thing to do is play video games and he’s “not going to apologize”. I say “more power to you, man”. I support the right of a man to play video games all day long in his pj’s. I feel the same way about books. That being said, I have no interest in dating a guy whose favorite thing to do is play video games and I’m quite sure he wouldn’t want to date a girl who thinks that video games should be an occasional entertainment and not a religious fervor.

Another match of mine is a big, burly security guard who is holding either a gun or a cat in every single picture. I find this in equal parts terrifying and slightly endearing. He also does not smile in any of his pictures, which gives him a slight creeper vibe. I’m sure he’s lovely in person.

I hear that refrain over and over in my mind. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy once you get to know him”. Even the speedo wearing bouncer is probably nice. There is a slightly hysteric tinge in my inner voice as I remind myself that I'm sure they're all very nice.

I will end this post by saying that there are a few mostly normal guys that I've been matched with, but it's slow-going and, sadly, they're not as amusing to write about.

Thoughts on persecution . . . and a few opinions

I read an article today about persecution. In my mind, that word has always been synonymous with horrifying historical events, such as the persecution of Jews and then Christians in the Bible. I think of the Holocaust. I also think of slavery. I know there are countless other examples of persecution throughout history, but those just pop into my mind when I see the word. I’m sure it’s my upbringing that this springs from. I was raised on biblical stories of persecution. As an Adventist, I was raised to believe that the worst forms of persecution happened to believers and that someday, during the time of troubles, we’re due for more persecution because of our beliefs. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I’ve always been mentally braced for persecution, as though it was a foregone conclusion and I needed to prepare. Someday, someone is going to treat me horribly because of my faith. Wince. Brace. Prepare.

The article I read today was about persecution. But it wasn’t about Christians being persecuted. It was us doing the persecuting. We were the ones persecuting people because they are different, because they don't fit into our mold of what is "right".

I don’t like getting in the middle of social or theological debates. I have opinions. Sometimes they are even strong ones and if someone asks and genuinely wants to know my opinion, I will tell them. Maybe. But I am not of the mindset that my opinions are right. An opinion, by its very definition, is not considered truth. It may be my personal truth, but it is not empirical truth. And I’m okay with knowing that I might have more to learn, or I might be completely wrong. That’s acceptable to me, because I am not trying to force my opinions on anyone else. They are mine and as long as they do not cause me to harm another person, I am allowed to them.

I think the problem comes when, due to our opinions or personal truths, we feel justified in persecuting another, either emotionally, physically or spiritually. And I think that as Christians, or any person who has accepted the words of Christ into their heart, we are held to a very high standard in how we are to treat others:

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question:  “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22: 34-40.

I serve a God who calls me, ultimately, to love. To love a living God. To love people who are different than me. To love people who hold different beliefs than I do. To love people who live lifestyles that I was not born into and may not fully understand. To love people who I may have fundamental disagreements with. To love people who may outwardly appear more broken than I. To love people who might make me uncomfortable.

So what does it mean to love my neighbor? Unfortunately, it seems that in the minds of many Christians, loving someone means helping to show them they are wrong so that they can ultimately find their way to truth. Maybe loving someone means “saving them”. Loving them might mean that we shame them until they change. Perhaps loving someone means ostracizing them from “us” so that they may eventually see the error of their ways, change their lifestyle, and come home to the church. Maybe loving someone means making them feel worthless, so that we can feel worthy. Sometimes our "love" for our neighbors causes us to slowly, but inexorably, push them out of the fold so that we can feel comfortable again. But, in my opinion, that is the kind of love that makes God and the angels weep.

Perhaps we have spent so much time preparing for persecution, that we have learned it too well ourselves.

But Dacia, you say, what about standing up for our beliefs? What about upholding Biblical truths and the institutions of marriage/Adventism/our forefathers/religious liberty/etc.? 

My response to that would be, continue upholding those beliefs in your own life. Strive towards the most loving, genuine, Christ-centered marriage that you can. Do your best to be the most kind, loving, giving, gracious Adventist and live by example. Be the kindest, bravest, most generous American. Embrace your faith and rejoice that others have hope and faith, even if it is not the same as yours. Live your life in such a way that others cannot help but see the reflected love of Christ in you. And rest easy in the knowledge that in the end, God has the power and responsibility to do all the judging and the saving, and is infinitely more wise and capable of such things than we are. I feel relieved to not have that burden. I am only responsible for loving God and for loving people.

And remember . . . this is just my opinion.

Gulp . . .

So I did this crazy thing last night. I’m having a hard time even typing it. I’m not ashamed or anything . . . I keep reminding myself that this is normal nowadays. People do these things, it’s okay. It’s okay.

I signed up for online dating. eHarmony, to be specific.

For. A. Year.

Man, they suck you in with those promotions, don’t they? Paying for a year was only about $15 more than paying for three months. It’s a bargain! But now I’m committed to this little experiment for a year.

A. Whole. Year. 365 Days.

Why would I do such a thing to myself?? Why would I spend money on this kind of torture??

Well, it’s both very simple and very complicated, all at once.

Let’s start with the simple. I’m trying to be a little braver. And for me, part of that involves the irritating phrase “putting myself out there”. I’m trying not to float through my life without purpose. I’m trying to make an effort. And then, if I find that God is gently nudging me towards the knowledge that it’s time to move on, I can do so knowing that I was brave enough to try.

Then there’s the complicated. I love being alone. I hate being lonely. I am excellent at solitude, but dreadful at companionship. I am entirely out of practice when it comes to dating and relationships. And the type of practice that I had centered around my school experience. The only dating experience I have is "Adventist dating" which, I'm sad to say, is a whole different blog post. But ultimately, Adventist dating has no concept of "casual". I have no notion of how to “casually” date as an adult. I’m not sure how to adequately express that “I like you as a person, but after one date, I haven't determined if I want to be married to you for 50 years and have 4 kids. How about a movie?” And on the opposite end, if someone asks me on a date, I don’t want my mind to go into overdrive. I want to practice the art of dating as I would practice any other life skill.

I wish it didn’t have to be online dating. In my dreams for how I might meet someone someday, this never factored in. I don’t enjoy the virtual wall between me and some unknown stranger. I don’t enjoy the thin veneer of desperation that seems to emanate from everyone’s profile (even my own, more than likely). I am not desperate. I am determined. I am determined to try and to be open. I am determined to be proactive and if it doesn’t go well, to dust myself off and be content that I learned a valuable lesson. If I'm still single in 20 years, I can look back and say "Hey, when I was 31, I tried this experiment, learned how to date, and realized that I'm doing okay on my own. Good to know".

In the meantime, it's been one whole day and I've been "smiled at" by 5 strangers and answered lots and lots of random, personal questions. I'm a little tired already. I'm sharing all of this because I can't imagine the whole year going by and never telling any stories about this experience (not going to throw any random guys under the bus, of course!). But I'm sure I'll learn something this year, and I hope to share and to gain insight from people as well.

If anyone has any encouraging thoughts to share on the mysteries of online dating, I'm all ears. I also accept cautionary tales if they are presented with chocolate and hugs.

Be a little braver

If someone asked me to describe myself in 5 words, I'd probably give a safe, socially-acceptable answer. For instance, I might say that I'm responsible, caring, book-addicted, geeky, and overly introverted. There, that's me. Nutshell.

A more realistic and authentic answer would be that I'm searching, compromising, conflicted, indecisive, and timid.

I'm searching for something meaningful in life. I know what I'm supposed to find meaningful; my religion, my relationships, my work, my passions. But I'm still searching.

I compromise too much. If I can't have what I want or need, I accept the next best thing. I give in. I bend. I give people what they want or expect, even if I don't feel like it's what I really want or should give.

I'm conflicted. People speak with authority towards me about a myriad of things and I listen. I am not much for arguing. I take it all in and ponder, and leave conflicted. I disagree deep down with people that I love, but I don't argue with them. I tell myself that it's better to have inner conflict than to have arguments with people I care about.

I am incredibly indecisive. I overthink everything, mostly because I have entirely too much time in my own head. One minute, I think I've made up my mind, 100% yes or no, and the next minute, I'm in the opposite corner. Apparently I don't mind arguments in my own mind, it's much more civilized. And once I commit to a decision, I agonize whether it was the right one. I have regrets that I made too hasty of decisions. I wonder if it's too late to change my mind.

I'm too timid. If I could change one thing about myself, I would be a little braver. I would take more risks. I wouldn't be so afraid of failure. I would remind myself that every day is an opportunity to grow and change. I would be brave.

If I could change one thing about myself, I would be a little braver:
I would go dancing.
I would laugh louder and not worry that my laugh sounds ridiculous.
I would speak up, even at the risk of being wrong.
I would wear high heels.
I would drive to an unfamiliar area of town and let myself get lost.
I wouldn't make excuses every time a friend tries to set me up on a date.
I would always say yes when my friends invited me to hang out.
I would plan trips out of town two weekends in a row and not worry about being tired.
If I saw a cute guy looking at me, I would look right back and smile.
I would learn how to snowboard.
I would make plans on weekday evenings all the time.
I would plan a trip to Europe by myself, just so I could go.
I would go hiking by myself.
I would buy a house.
I would try online dating.
I would buy a bike.
I would take a yoga class and not worry about looking utterly ridiculous.
I would get involved in community theater.
I would say "yes" more to babysitting for my friends and not worry that I'm going to accidentally scar their child for life by putting them to bed wrong (i.e. wrong bedtime story, singing off-key, etc).
I would talk to people I don't know.
I would give more hugs.
I would allow myself to be open to the possibility of love, and not worry about heartbreak.
I would sing loudly and not worry whether I sound excellent or awful.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

A rainy day . . .

It is a rainy day in Portland, OR.

One of my favorite kinds of days.

I was definitely born to live in this place. Either here or Scotland, that has yet to be determined. Since I haven't yet been to Scotland, Portland is looking more and more likely.

I know that I am in the minority about the rain. I hear a very vocal contingency among friends, family, and strangers who long for the sun, long for it to dry out, long to go do things out where they won't get drenched. And I get that. Summer time is beautiful here too, the light in the trees, the unending green, the hikes in the Gorge.

But I have this little love affair with the rain.

I love it's soundtrack. The unending background of it, so constant yet uneven. It's soothing and dreamy, melancholy and calming. I love to nap on a Sabbath afternoon when it's raining. There is nothing quite so cozy. And I never feel guilty wiling away hour upon hour of reading when it's raining. No one really expects that I'll be doing anything else. And just now, as I'm writing and drinking tea, the rain is the perfect counterpoint.

I even love to walk in the rain. It's just water after all, and when it's not really cold out, who care about getting wet? I just got back from a long walk and everything smelled clean, wet, fresh, and alive. The view from the top of the hill was slightly blurry and mysterious, like a veil between me and the rest of the world.

I actually love the feel of the water dripping off the tip of my nose and the slight squish of my shoes. I love knowing that all this water is going to make everything beautiful in the next few weeks and months.

I enjoy the puddles and don't avoid them. You should never grow up so much that you're too dignified to jump in puddles. You can always wash those clothes.

I do understand why some people dislike the rain. It's rough on picnics, creates mud, and the clouds can get a little gloomy after awhile. I wouldn't want it to rain every day, that would get a bit monotonous.

But I do love a rainy day.

The geekery in me

I have a confession. It's a little embarrassing and many of you may not know this about me. Then again, maybe you will, because I'm learning to embrace it as I get older. Okay, deep breath, here it is.

I'm a total geek.

Yep. Zero coolness over here. Not sophisticated, totally silly. Very, very geeky.

It all started with the reading. I started reading young and for whatever reason, I gravitated towards the fairy tales. My little sponge brain wanted to read about Narnia, not for the allegorical principles, but because there was a whole different world on the other side of that dang wardrobe!! And there were talking trees. And talking animals. A magical beverage that could cure any illness or wound. And best of all, whenever life got exceptionally dull for the Pevensie children (or relatives of theirs), they found a way back into Narnia and adventures ensued. I loved it all.

Then it just got worse. My dad was a sci-fi fan. So I got to stay up late and watch Star Trek and have Star Wars marathons. The first truly scary thing I remember from childhood is being wildly freaked out by the Borg. I was fairly certain that they were going to come into my bedroom and assimilate me without emotion. I know more random Star Trek facts than is strictly healthy, although I have a long way to go before I fall into the trap of deciding it's a good idea to learn Klingon.

I kind of thought I'd grow out of it after a time, that I would become a bit more sophisticated with age and begin to prefer more realism. Then I watched Battlestar Galactica, Firefly and Doctor Who.

Well, there goes the neighborhood. I'm officially obsessed. I have a Tardis keychain and multiple Doctor Who shirts. You can't say that I don't know how to commit.

My favorite books are fantasy. People know that I am addicted to reading and one of the questions I get asked most frequently is "What's your favorite book?" Honestly, I really hate answering that question, because I don't have "a" favorite book, I have a whole list of favorites, and it's for a slew of different reasons. But in generally, among my top 10 semi-rotating favorite books, probably 6 of them will be fantasy. And I don't like to admit that because, in general, people are as judgey when it comes to books as they are about anything else, and people give me funny looks when I tell them I love fantasy. I think they're expecting something a bit . . . deeper. Which makes me feel apologetic, and then slightly irritated.

I've also wonder why I gravitate towards it. It's all fiction and completely unrealistic. When I've spent some time pondering it, it always comes back to this one fact for me . . . I love a good story. I don't usually care what medium it's presented in, whether books, movie, tv, or a play. I'm riveted by a fascinating plot. And part of what makes sci-fi and fantasy so wonderful is that there are no boundaries or rules. The only limit to what can happen is the imagination of the story teller. I love the experience of getting inside someone else's imagination and immersing myself in their story. And there are some exceptional writers in the fantasy genre. One of my favorites is Patrick Rothfuss. Good gracious, that man can craft a story. He is a word smith. He is a master of world building. Another favorite of mine is Robin McKinley. Not all of her books, but some of my all time favorites are Beauty, The Blue Sword, and The Hero and the Crown. There are some authors that just write in a way that makes you think they might have an open line to your brain, the connection is so strong.

One of the best things about fantasy/sci-fi is that they can talk about all the "big issues" we deal with in the real world, but from a unique perspective. You can read about racism, poverty, gender equality, discrimination, depression, violence, the environment, and a host of other things. But it's presented just slightly askew, on another planet, or an alternate world, with a different set of rules and a different set of issues. Maybe it's racism between blue people vs. gold people. Maybe women rule the world and men are oppressed. Maybe emotion is outlawed. Whatever concept the author or storyteller takes and runs with, it gives you a different perspective on all the same things we deal with. And I love to try and think outside of my own little box.

Now, that being said, I love things that aren't geeky. Plenty of things. But I love spending time with my equally geeky friends and discussing plot points of Doctor Who, Firefly, Star Trek, Patrick Rothfuss, and many other fabulous geeky things. It's a true joy to relish the geekery together and enjoy the simple pleasure of discussing a good story that sprang out of someone else's imagination.

After all, to quote the Doctor as he said goodbye to a sleeping Amy Pond, "I'll be a story in your head. That's okay. We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? 'Cause it was, you know. It was the best." What I take from that is that if you like something and it brings joy, fun and a new way of thinking into your life, however silly, you should just embrace it and enjoy the ride. 

The good and the bad

I have a lot in life to be grateful for. Mostly the people in my life. I have a wonderful family that loves and supports me. I also have fantastic friends. Some people I've known for ages and some I've been blessed with just in the past few years. Most of my family and almost all of my friends are walking on a different path than I am. With just a few exceptions, my family and close friends are all married. And as the years go by, the people in my life are expanding their families, having beautiful children. They're growing, changing, evolving. I can honestly say that I rejoice in their happiness in marriage, I find immense joy in pregnancy announcements, and feel the glow of love when I hold those children for the first time and every time I'm involved in between.

But I'm on a different path.

I spend a lot of time with married people and married people who are parents. Some of these people are the most significant people in my life and I love them dearly. I understand that being married is hard and being a parent is HARD. I'm not on that path, but I can recognize without difficulty that it is a hard yet worthwhile choice to take and I have nothing but respect and admiration for that journey.

But I'm on a different path. And it's not entirely of my choosing. I didn't find "the one" at college and get married. I also haven't met him in subsequent years. If he's out there, our paths haven't crossed. So instead, I'm single. And there are some things about being single that are really, really easy. But for every easy thing about being single, there is often an accompanying challenge.

Good: I am in charge of my life. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I answer to no one. If I want to stay up till 1 a.m. watching Doctor Who, it's not going to bother anyone. If I want to go out to dinner after work, I go. If I feel like driving to a store across town to go shopping, I go. If I decide I want to move, no negotiating need take place. If I decide to drive to the ocean, I don't have to plan or consult, I just go.

Bad: I answer to no one. When I come home late at the end of a long day, no one is there with the lights already on, asking me why I'm so cranky. When I have a big life decision to make, I have to make it on my own, no hand to hold while I take the plunge. No one checks in with me from day to day. I'm pretty introverted, which means I can go all week without ever communicating with people outside of work.  I am no one's first priority but my own.

Good: I get to spend a lot of time focusing on myself. I have time to reflect on my life, my decisions, my interests, my goals, and my spiritual life. I'm naturally fairly introspective, so living alone enables me to ponder the things I'm interested in and focus on what's important to me.

Bad: Spending that much time in your own head can lead to a host of doubts and insecurities. And when you only really have yourself to think about, you can eventually start to feel like you're the center of the world. In short, when you spend a lot of time on your own, it's easy to become selfish and self-absorbed. You don't need to put anyone's needs ahead of your own. You don't have to make sacrifices. That may sound like a good thing, right? But the choices and sacrifices we make for the good of those we love is a beautiful thing. It shapes you and refines you into a better person. When you're alone, there are less opportunities to give of yourself and contribute to the happiness of another person.

Good: I have no responsibilities but myself. I don't even have a pet. Once I pay my bills, my money is mine to spend on whatever I choose. I can buy myself fun things, splurge occasionally, go to movies, save for what I want. I have a stable job and can support myself. If I don't feel like doing a task, I can put it off and no one will nag at me.

Bad: There is just me. If I got hurt or lost my job, there is no backup, no support. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, I do have family that would help out. But there's a difference between crashing at your parents house and knowing that another person has your back if everything goes bottoms up. And there are lots of little things. I do all my chores. I take care of all my bills and budgeting. I handle my car issues. I clean my own tub and toilet. I do my own laundry. I kill my own bugs. I find a way to wrestle that jar open without casually handing it off to someone stronger. I cook, but sometimes it's just too much bother for one person. Sometimes I put these things off, but eventually, I do them all, because there's no one else around to pitch in.

Good: I love being alone. I crave time by myself just like some people crave the excitement of a crowd. I can spend all Sunday morning reading. I can take a 2 hour nap. I can go chill at a coffee shop for three hours and journal. I can go for a long walk, listening to my favorite music, and get lost in my thoughts. I don't have to worry about distractions. My time is my own.

Bad: There can definitely be too much of a good thing. I get in a rut of alone time. Even an introvert can crave the connection of time with others and I do. Some evenings I run through a list in my head of all the people I know, wondering if they're busy and would want to get dinner or a movie or just go for a walk. Sometimes I wake up Sunday mornings and want to have breakfast with someone. I savor the hugs I get at church, because that may be the only physical contact I have all week. My time is my own, because I have no one to share it with.

Good: When you're single, you don't have to worry about heartbreak from your spouse. There are no arguments about money, no frustrations over daily irritations and annoyances, no blowups over major life decisions. There are no misunderstandings and hurts. You do not have to deal with growing away from the person you love most.

When you're single, you don't have to deal with the extreme and constant exhaustion of parenthood. No one is daily invading your personal space. You don't have the incessant worry and pressure over the responsibility of this precious child that you've been entrusted with to raise and nurture. You don't have to worry about losing them. You don't have to deal with judgment from other parents and people who don't understand but have opinions nonetheless. There isn't constant noise and crankiness.

Bad: When you're single, you don't have someone who's on your side. You don't have someone to encourage you, to push you, to love you and challenge you. There isn't that one special person you share everything with. You live your life, but you don't share it. No one ever learns the way you take your coffee or gets up early to scrape snow off your car. People may love you, but you are no one's favorite person.
When you aren't a parent, you don't have a love that is all-encompassing and all-consuming from their first breath. You don't look in a face that has echoes of you all over it. You don't get sticky kisses and full body hugs. You don't have a future of "I love you's" and "mommy's" to look forward to. You don't have the warm glow of knowing that some small part of you will live on after you're gone.

I often feel very fortunate that I'm so well-equipped for a single life. I am generally happy in my own company and I know many people aren't. But it wouldn't be my first choice. If it's the plan God has for my life, then I can and will continue to find the joy in it. I know beyond a doubt that I would rather have a contented single life than an unhappy or unsatisfied married life. 

I suppose I just want to point out that we should never judge the path of another. We should never assume that someone has it better or easier than us. Life is hard enough without comparing our life to someone else's.

To all my married friends and to all my friends who are parents; I respect you and the journey you're taking. It's not easy, but I know it's worthwhile. I'm fortunate to have a part in your lives and blessed by all the richness of each experience with you.

To my single friends; for many of us, this isn't our first choice, but that doesn't mean we don't have a lot to contribute. There are many blessings to be had on this path, and while it might not always seem that way, there's a lot of beauty on this journey as well.