Pokemon go or stay?

From when Pokemon go first started blowing up:

Pokémon go. My first thought was please, Pokémon go away. I thought it was a dumb fad. But now I’m beginning to realize there’s more to it than that. Have I played it? No. but have I been around people who do? Yes. And through that I’ve seen the possibilities and opportunities made through this game. It’s something my generation relates to, the 90s coming back again. And it gets people outside. Gamers in particular, who don’t see the light of day because they’re glued to a screen, are emerging from their caves into the light of day to catch em all.

Yet in practice, I’ve witnessed the social aspect also encompassed in this game. Walking around a park and seeing nearly everyone under 40 looking down at their phones, alert for when the Pokémon become known. Some are walking, some are driving, but I noticed something else. People talk to each other. In this day and age when people can walk across town without even glancing up, let alone conversing with a stranger, Pokémon go has created a common ground for people to start on. Telling each other where certain Pokémon are, directing each other to the gyms and so much more. They actually speak. And they’re all civil, even kind, all reaching for the same goal of whatever you do to win at Pokémon go. I have mixed feelings for it, especially when people stop their cars in the middle of a lane to catch a ________. It’s fascinating. Something I don’t understand, but I am mesmerized by all of the facets of it. Pokémon go, my opinion is still forming on you, but I can’t deny that you do have benefits and things that hold you a little higher

Rest.

Here's a reflection/prayer I wrote a while ago and stumbled upon:

Rest is good. Rest is a gift. Rest is necessary for sanity.

In rest, he still loves us. He still holds us. He definitely still teaches us.

In a culture where time is money, where the faster you go the better you can be,

Where a full schedule is seen with honor, where reading a book is a waste of your summer,

Where we must always produce efficiently, productivity becomes the god that we begin to believe in. Something to use to gain momentum.

But I’m learning I can’t keep up.

I’m so young, but my body is ready to give up.

I’ve been going ever since I can remember, feeling guilty for resting, from January through December.

He’s teaching me, and teaching me over again, what it means to be still and simply know him.

I feel I’ve lost touch, something I long for yet I do nothing to try to restore that relationship, to be still and know him.

I never shut up and my talk fills my head day in and day out,  over and over again. I try to listen, but my mind is just not trained to do that.

It seems I’ve lost the capacity to hear what he could be saying to me, I’ve let go of some of the most life giving things to me.

Sitting on a porch swing. Watching the river and trees. Reading a good book and just feeling the breeze blow swiftly, soaking life in. Enjoying every meal and the time spent with family and friends. Sipping coffee and writing until my ongoing train of thought ends.

I miss those things. And this mindset of productivity has robbed me of seeing that they’re becoming tarnished and dull instead of filling every part of me with joy and light that has the power to reach all who surround me.

So today I ask for the grace to rest. Yet against a spirit of laziness. I pray the things that once breathed life into me can once again fill my soul and give me wings to float with the joy that only being truly alive can provide.

I want to hold my bible once again, flipping the pages until the trail of discovery ends. I want to look down on the page and experience the power in those words, meditating on just one verse or even one word. Draw near to me and give me the grace to draw near to you.

One Right Answer?

Does God have a specific will? A certain direction I must take in order to make my life the most it could be? Is there the possibility of me making a mistake and ruining the flow of things for more than just myself?

That’s a lot of power to give me as a human being.

Is there a right path to take, a correct decision I must make in the direction I should be going? Can I mess up? Is there one will of God?

That’s a lot of pressure on myself to take a step in the right direction.

Or is this a decision I must make based on my thoughts and tastes, my opinions and the direction I want to take?

To stay or to go.

To board the plane again? To study? To strive always to find a deeper meaning and purpose? Or to learn to find contentment anywhere. Either here or there.

My dream is to find it everywhere.

The Age of Post

We live in the age of post.

Post-modernism, post-enlightenment, post-absolutist, post-everything

We look around and all we see is me. We’re no longer we, no longer one community, no longer humanity, but the self-absorbed, individualized me.

There was a time when people realized how our lives are deeply interconnected with that of others.

And not just those of a family or direct society, but connected to humankind across space and time. A concept that seems to be slippery sand slipping through our hands. We hardly notice as it slips away cause we’re not focused on the sand.

We’re focused on our own two hands.

Their beauty, their importance, their usefulness and purpose.

About how those two hands do things the right way; they grasp reality in the true light; they know the right way to pick a fight.

But I daresay that’s a mighty arrogant way to see the world.

Yes, we live in a post-history world where we think we have the vantage ground, the correct perspective, the benefit of objectivity.

That the way we see is truth about reality.

But may I be so bold as to disagree?

What makes us think that our blind eyes now see?

See things as they really are, void of subjectivity or the tainted bias that comes from growing up in our society?

We are a product of our environment. Now, I wouldn’t carry that statement as far as some, but there is a degree of truth in it.

Our brains were formed, our opinions and beliefs born, out of our community. Whether we reacted positively or negatively to that stimulus, those deeply ingrained values, they still shaped us.

And in our pluralist society that worships science and objectivity, is there any way to look at the world completely objectively?

We all grew up in circles. Societies with certain plausibility structures, whether we agreed with them or not. Maybe we rejected what our community had to teach, so we left our circle to go to another. One more “objective.”

But we are still in a circle, nonetheless, correct?

So no matter which circle we are in, do we really have access to all other circles, and on top of that, are we void of the subjectivity and influence of the circles we’ve experienced thus far?

Maybe you question me on my beliefs, on absolutivity, but may I have the opportunity to call gently into question your objectivity?

And I digress.

Back to our forgetfulness of the web of humanity, the one that has been being spun for our entire history. Recorded or not, we do have a history.

But that history is also subject to the subjectivity and values of those recording it, who capture only what they see fit to aid the understanding of how we are going to get to their perceived goal of history and humanity.

When it all comes down to it, I’m not sure if we are capable of being entirely objective beings that can provide undisputedly objective statements about reality.

So do I fight this? Do I try to hold myself up as a fraction of a string, apart of from the entire web of silk connected across space and time? Or do I humbly choose to recognize my interconnectedness as a small part of humanity?

There is so much I can learn, so many things I can discern, wisdom I can gain, perspective I can attain, from this larger perspective.

We are knit together into one quilt. One story.

The story of humanity.

The Luxury

I still struggle with the seeming injustice of it all.

That I get the luxury of wrestling with the direction of my future.

That I get the extravagance of working out, of going out, of getting out of my situation for a short respite to give way to thought.

That I get the comfort of reading the news, as awful as it may be, in the safety of my own room.

I don’t worry about how to survive.

I’m not preoccupied with how I will fill my aching stomach, struggling to sleep in the insecurity of my situation.

I don’t live in fear of bombings, living a life where I recognize that today could be my last.

Instead I have the luxury of decision. My future isn’t set before me due to the lives of my family or the situation that surrounds me. I have a choice. The luxury of  choice.

Yet I complain and fret and worry about how I will make that decision. Between multiple good things.

I can use my choice to live as I please, maybe selfishly, not realizing the luxury I live in.

Or I can make a choice to stand beside those without that luxury. To offer my hand. To try to understand. To offer them the luxury of my choice. After all, I have a responsibility to humanity.

I have the luxury of theology. Of wrestling with what I believe. I have the privilege of thought and logic and seeking what life really means. My needs are met and most of what I want. Yet I get so caught up on the knowledge I don’t have that I don’t realize that.

I have a luxury. Yet I take it for granted. I don’t recognize its possibilities. I get stuck on how crippling choice can be. How the paralysis of analysis can inhibit any choice being made at all. Is there one best choice? Maybe. Is there a wrong choice? Maybe. But regardless, I now am beginning to see that I have the luxury of choice. And I’ve decided I want to use that luxury to fulfill my responsibility to humanity. To be a part of the ushering in of redemption and restoration. To humbly offer myself to a cause, to a Being greater than me. For I am simply another person, but I have the luxury. And I don’t want to squander it.