Hallways, Stress, and Thankfulness

I’m really stressed out.

And the last thing I “should” be doing is spending time writing about how stressed out I am. I should be studying for finals, working on upcoming projects, writing final papers, replying to emails, or one of the many, many, many things that compose my mental stress list. But no, instead I’m sitting in a deserted hallway on the third floor of Shillman writing a blog post. The last 24 hours have been a lot to handle: professors telling me to switch my final paper topic last minute, awkward tension-filled encounters with people, homework assignments I forgot about that were due the next day, obligations and prior commitments to friends I needed to fulfill, a long shift at my new job. This morning I woke up to a lump of stress in my stomach the size of a bowling ball as I thought about all the exams, finals, papers, and projects that await me next week. And to top it all off, my bank graciously notified me that my credit card number had been stolen and someone was trying to buy a lot of cigarettes with my hard earned (though measly sum of) money. I wanted to check out of my life like a hotel room and go somewhere else and not have to deal with cleaning up this mess.  

I’m two and half weeks away from completing my first year back in school. A year ago I was living in Beijing and had no idea what the next phase of my life would entail. It was an incredible winding road but somehow I ended up in a hallway outside a Physics class at Northeastern University in Boston, Massachusetts (don’t worry, I’m not skipping class. I don’t take physics). When I think about the past year and the years ahead, I’m overwhelmed with grief, joy, peace, terror, and excitement. The past 24 hours have been the most stressed out I’ve been in a long time and perhaps one of the first times I’ve been stressed out about classes since coming back to school. But it’s in times like these where I know the very thing I need to do is stop, sit down, and reflect. No amount of good grades or finished To-Do lists will give me life. No amount of planning out the next 5 years or 3 months will bring me success. Only taking time to simply be me – apart from all the noise and chaos of college kid life – will matter to my eternal being. As I look out the window I can see a tree with its branches covered with little buds. Little soft pink buds that are just tiny sleeping hopes soon to crack up and spill color into the atmosphere. I am comforted by the fact that the stress of my day, though intense and very real it may be, cannot affect these blossoms. That no matter how horrible or busy or un-ideal my life may be, Spring is undeterred. Sunshine isn’t dependent on if I feel light. The breeze isn’t bothered by my furrowed brow nor the sky moved by my To-Do list. And in this moment, all I can do is be thankful for that. I am thankful that my stress never gets the final word, that my stress actually possesses no actual power. I am thankful that sometimes the best way to handle being overwhelmed by stress is to let yourself be overwhelmed by the sight of the fluffy white clouds or the fresh blue sky or a stranger holding the door open of you. My life is not merely paper and words. Yes, it is complex but it is also simple.

I don’t know where I’ll be a year from now. I don’t have any answers for any of my questions of what, how, when, and why. But today I’m grateful for deserted hallways with good views that remind me to sit down and be quiet. 

Wait, did she just say that we should stop empowering people?

A friend of mine and former boss (and one of my favorite people in general), Rachel Goble, recently posted a blog that I haven't been able to stop thinking about since I read it. Her words and insights struck me for several reasons. One was that she talked about a concept close to my heart: empowerment. I worked for almost 2 years with a project in Asia that sought to empower women. It's an important and valuable cause and message. But another reason was that I have had a thought in the back of my head for some time, one that I was afraid to speak out: What if empowerment isn't enough? What if there's more to it than that?

Whether you work with formerly exploited women like I have or lead a youth group, whether you're raising kids or managing employees at work, I highly recommend you take a moment and read her thoughts. It just may totally transform the way you interact with and view the people in your life.

Let’s Stop Empowering and Start Inspiring

I’ve been using the word ‘empower’ for years. It’s a great word – one that implies giving dignity to others; the whole ‘give a man a fish and he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime’ type story comes up when I hear the word empower. It’s even in my organizations mission statement – we seek to empower individuals. In fact, I would go so far as to say that it’s the hot word of today’s non profits. We all want to empower others: the poor, the apathetic, the girl child, the slave, even ourselves! By definition it mean

I graduated with a masters degree in Cross Cultural studies where my focus was on children at risk and international development. I joke that after three years of talking about everything I could possibly do in my life and work (in context of working with the poor) there would be no escaping that I would screw up at some points. We were warned of everything that could go wrong: from the language we use being offensive or not up to date (should ‘at-risk’ come before or after the word child. If it’s put after, then they are first and foremost defined as a child, But if put before, they are defined as being at-risk. Therefore it is politically incorrect to say ‘at-risk child’ but somewhat acceptable to say ‘child at-risk’), to the organizational structure we implemented not having that perfect balance of both empowerment (see, there’s the word again) and accountability. I had a degree in cross cultural work and yet the fear of God put in me that nothing I would do could ever be right (this might be a slight exaggeration but truly, I graduated with a sense of deep humility that development work was not something to be taken lightly).s “to give (someone) the authority or power to do something” or “to make (someone) stronger and more confident, especially in controlling their life and claiming their rights”. It’s a great word.

The word ‘empower’ never raised red flags in these years so I used it confidently and frequently.

Until a dear African American friend enlightened me. It had never crossed my mind before that what this word implies is that I have the power and you do not. Click here to read more.

A Happy New Year's Ramble

I spent this New Year’s night like I have spent many nights this past year – in an airport.

I celebrated New Years Eve in a very uncomfortable chair in the Philadelphia airport during a six hour layover. I watched on a muted television CNN’s coverage of Times Square as I ate a pretzel and cup of coffee for dinner. When the clock struck twelve and the new year of 2014 arrived, I was standing at a baggage carousel in the Boston airport waiting for my green backpackers backpack to appear. The airport seemed empty except for my fellow passengers. Someone let out a tamed “Happy New Year” as we all waited around to claim our luggage.

Now that I’m thinking about it, I really couldn’t have ended 2013 and started 2014 in a more fitting way.

The past year has been a constant series of micro-journeys, a collection of various adventures, and a relentless passage into new things. 2013 was a year of moving forward and only bringing with me what I could carry, in the physical sense as well as in the emotional, mental, and spiritual. I’ve had to pack my bags in more ways than one, leave things behind that didn’t fit in my suitcase or weren’t needed on the trip before me. It was a year like many before it, one that was stressful, fun, challenging, painful and good. It was one of getting to travel to new places, dealing with illnesses, meeting new wonderful friends, hugging old wonderful friends goodbye, new cities, old cities, stimulating work, lots of tears and laughter, all the usual stuff. Yet it was unlike any other year I have been to before. It’s a year, that as I sit here now with a tear making its way down my cheek, that makes me want to sigh and say “What on earth happened?”

I’m a little bit stunned to be honest. I cannot sum up in a phrase what 2013 was all about. I cannot articulate all of the lessons and principles I’ve wrestled through. I am overwhelmed. I am overcome with the reality that while Dad never changes, He is always surprising me – in both good and hard ways.

It has been six months now since I moved to America from Asia. Six months and I still am surprised every morning at the incredible water pressure in the shower, at the fact that taxi drivers always understand where I want to go, and at the reality that no one gets what I’m saying when I use the word ‘mafan’. Six months and I still haven’t found a friend that resembles anything like my community in Asia. Six months and my stomach still isn’t used to the food here (TMI?:-). Six months and I still experience a little bit of culture shock at least once a day. Time works wonders for many things, but there are some things it does not heal – some things I hope it never heals.

I usually get all reflective around New Years. I think about the past year and think about the new one ahead. But this time, all I’ve got is, “I made it!”