Restless

Surprise, surprise I can't sleep tonight.

Went into the city today. Insane amounts of nostalgia and maybe regret [?] Sometimes it's better not seeing what you're leaving behind. The park looks beautiful in its full and wet glory. City kids in makeshift bathing suits romp around in a mini water park that is the fountain. Today, I saw the street performers. There was a juggler, a group of 'afrobats', and a doowoop group. The singers were good but they kept lying about this song being the last one, so people would end up putting more money into their box, aptly named 'phillip.'

This got me thinking about my antics and my gimmicks. Deny it as much as you want, but I'm convinced we all have our individual go-to roles. In psych last fall, (my memory sucks lately, forgot the researcher let alone the name) I learned about this theory wherein we all carry around with us a bag of roles. Faced with a situation, we alter our identities based upon our handy dandy kit'o'aliases in order to efficiently handle a situation. For example, in a group of urban kids, we hash up all the gangsta references we know, throw up gang symbols we don't comprehend, and metaphorically pour champagne on the daily as an homage to the fallen ones.

These stupid stupid roles are so easy to utilize that sometimes I think I use them as a crutch. They say you are who you are when no one's watching. But when no one's watching, I'm either sleeping or lying on the couch absorbing whatever is on TV. I've been called a chameleon girlfriend before, but what if I'm so sucked into the vortex of non-identity that I lack individuality outside of romantic relationships?

I don't juggle. I can't do a cartwheel. And I can't sing. If I had to perform in a park for survival, I wouldn't survive.

An answer

Currently reading: Irresistible Revolution

Shane Claiborne is such a witty and down to earth writer. I love authors who's prose is more like dialogue between the writer and the audience. And his crazy little footnotes are such a great way to ground some of the concepts.

I really relate to the early chapters wherein he talks about Christianity being commercialized. I remember watching Real Housewives of New York and one of the rich male breadwinners attributing his riches to selling Christian jewelry. And the worst part was realizing that I was part of this vicious cycle of making christianity fashionable. I bought the shirts. I shopped for promise rings. I accumulated so much stuff to constantly remind myself I was Christian.

The ensuing chapter talks about a leper colony with which he stays. He says that while the poor suffer physically from leprosy and lack sensation in their bodies, the rich suffer from a more serious condition, emotional apathy in their hearts and actions.

After reading the Calcutta section, I felt extremely convicted. When we ask God why he let's poverty, war, and disease to cripple his people, we must be prepared to be asked the same question. And when He asks, I have no answer. Laziness, Fear, Apathy? I don't know.

And to think today I was upset over having an outdated phone.