Freedom, cut me loose.

I was recently part of a conversation in which someone characterized people as either a "chaos muppet" or an "order muppet." For example, Animal is a chaos muppet, as his fundamental orientation is toward drumming wildly; Kermit is an order muppet, as his job is to make sure that everyone is in their place in order for the show to start.

I am an order muppet.

I am in my fourth year of using a Passion Planner to structure my work (my employment and my self-work). I am a six on the enneagram. I am an ESFJ. I am a Hufflepuff. These may mean something to you, these may mean nothing to you. That's fine.

Mostly, what they have meant to me, is that structure is where I find freedom. When there are no rules, I freeze. When there are unclear expectations, I freeze. I rarely go with the flow. I just tried to think of a good example of a time when I have relinquished full logistical control to someone else and, truly, could not think of a good one—until recently. This year has been full of unexpected blessings and not-so-blessed-things. (I feel the need to acknowledge the absolute dumpster fire state of the world as part of this, but we're all here, we all know.) 

Since this is the big, wide, internet, I'm not about to walk you through every moment of what's been happening, but suffice it to say that from mid-December 2017 until now, approximately nothing has gone according to plan for me or some of my dearest loved ones. There has been death, and near-death, and sickness, and surgery. And there has been new life, and new cities, and new houses. Some of our unexpectedness has been positive, but even with those changes comes grief about what had been. Throughout these months, I have handed over—or admitted I had no control over, if we're being really real—the lives and livelihoods of my dearest ones to the God we love and who loves us. Throughout these months, I have reviewed the vows my husband and I made to each other last October, trusted that he meant what he said, and trusted that we are in this together. I, most terrifyingly, placed deep trust in doctors and nurses and other medical professionals.

There was nothing I could do. I had to let go of any semblance of control, and trust everyone else. While I identify these last several months as tumultuous, they have brought deep clarity to my sense of self: I have begun to consider perhaps occasionally going with the flow on purpose.

I have begun to notice that I may have placed too rigid of structures on my own self. There is a difference between keeping my calendar together—so that my colleagues and I are on the same page about what time we're meeting—and setting rules for myself that make it harder to enjoy my life. 

[I re-wrote a few versions of a sentence and stared at the cursor for a while before getting to the sentence that follows this parenthetical.]

I am going to abandon my reading list. 

I know what you're thinking: who cares? Me. And that's why I'm letting it go. I love to read, and I needed a way to structure my reading after a lifetime of syllabi. I floundered for the first year after seminary, unsure how to access all the leisure reading (and learning) I wanted to do, now that I was free. So I set myself some structure for 2016—Book Riot's #ReadHarder challenge and Rachel Syme's Women's Lives Club—and I read. And last year, I did it again. And this year, I set out to do it again. Due to the aforementioned absolute mess of a Q1, I am "behind" in my progress, and—most importantly—not excited about the books I have lined up. There are categories of books that I agonized over, and yet somehow convinced myself that this was going to be good? Even limits have their limits.

It's baseball season, so we're spending our evenings watching game after game. It's awesome. I'm listening to my usual podcasts, including one about baseball, on which a writer whose book I'd been eyeing (but not buying! Because it isn't on the list!) was interviewed so well that I cried. And then ordered her book. I have read more pages in the last week than in the month before that.

I do not believe I will ever abandon my life goal to #ReadFewerWhiteDudes. Rest assured, dear reader. And I will keep posting my reading on social media as I complete books, but I will also stop reading the two books I'm stuck in the middle of because I truly DGAF about them. And will not regard this as "failure" or feel shame about it! I will order books that I hear about that I want to read! And then I will read them! Ahhhhhhhh

C'mon. #ReadFewerWhiteDudes in 2018.

It's a crisp, lovely evening at my in-laws' house in Arizona, and I've suddenly realized my 2018 reading challenge begins tomorrow! Because 2018 begins tomorrow! Happy New Year, beloveds!

2018 will be my third year with a reading challenge, my second year of that challenge being largely Book Riot's #ReadHarder, and my second year committing to #ReadFewerWhiteDudes, too. Some of the prompts this year lined right up with books I have been trying to read, which is v nice. It also, though, had way more comic/graphic novel and mystery/crime prompts than I am interested in, so I just decided to shrug off a few of those.

I noticed that some geniuses I follow on the internet (Hanif Abdurraqib, Eve Ewing, Clint Smith, Kaveh Akbar, and Danez Smith) are writers and poets, and so I am going to read their new work. I don't read enough poetry, in general, so I googled around for weeks, trying to find a 2018 poetry reading challenge to throw in the mix. The League of Canadian Poets had a 2017 challenge, but I have not found a 2018 update, so I just snagged a few of their #LCPchallenge prompts. This is my 2018 Reading Challenge, and I can do what I want. Glad we cleared that up.

In my theological reading, I can always do better to prioritize marginalized and minoritized voices, and I'm lacking in queer theology by queer folks; because God loves me, an ELCA colleague has written and compiled a bunch of theology by trans folks for publication in 2018. You, too, can pre-order Transforming. Thanks, Austen!

Additionally, Jonathan and I are heading to Europe for our honeymoon this summer (woohoo!) and someone (Ashley Ford?) once recommended reading fiction set where you're going as a way to get excited, so I picked novels set in the Italian Riviera and in Lyon, France in anticipation of the parts of our trip we'll spend in those regions. 

2018 is going to be a year of all sorts of things, and joyous reading is going to be chief among them, for me.

What are you reading this year? Please tell me all about it. Send me a link to your list, if you have one.

BOOKS, Y'ALL!

Fasting From Frenzy

If you read my sermon from last night (aka the previous post) you will not be surprised by the content of this post about my Lenten discipline. 

Like many people do during the season of Lent, I am going to spend the next 40ish days fasting. I am going to be fasting from frenzy. I am going to resist the urge to get whipped into a panic about things that do not merit panic. I am not going to allow poor planning on the part of others to become an emergency on mine.

Oh, and I am going to read more. This likely will not come as a shock to you, unless you are shocked that I can possibly read more than I already do. February was a crazy month during which I told myself I'd have plenty of time to read and then spent approximately none of that time reading. In one respect, I am "behind schedule" on my reading (which sounds like participating in frenzy!) but in another, I am bummed out by how little time I've spent slowed down with my face in a book.

As Lent approaches each year, I often decide to read a book of devotions of some kind that I have, and then I suddenly realize halfway through Lent that I've completely stopped reading it. The truth is, I have time. I have always had time. I run out of time because I waste time. I neglect to dedicate time to important things, and somehow feel like I "don't have the energy to really give it what it deserves"—which is a bald-faced lie. I just lack discipline.

This year, I am diving into 40-Day Journey with Julian of Norwich, who was a rad weird lady that I want to get to know better. This little collection happens to have been compiled by Lisa Dahill, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at last year's Region 1&2 Lutheran Campus Minister's gathering. Fun!

Since we call these Lenten practices "disciplines" I am therefore going to be more "disciplined" about spending a very easy 10 minutes that I certainly do have (or however long it takes me to read my daily Julian of Norwich thinger).

Oh, and! I am going to take a technology sabbath in the evenings, skipping out on screens after 8pm. In part, I am going to do this so I stop reading work emails at 10pm like some kind of person with no work-life balance. Also, it is better for my sleep. I will probably occasionally watch movies that go past this time but I will wear my blue-light-reducing glasses when I do! Huzzah. Also, some nights I am still at work at 8pm so obviously this one is more of a "guideline" than a rule okay bye

Okay! So! I am going to spend Lent doing fewer, better things. I am going to resist the false narrative that I must do everything and do it now. I am going to be present—to myself, to Jonathan, and to God. I'm going to take a walk outside as many days as weather permits (what up, spring). I'm going to ride my bike places that I could drive to because I am not actually in any sort of hurry most days, and especially not during my fast from frenzy!

Cool. I'm excited about this. I want to get started! But like, getting started means doing nothing. Ahhhhhh