Study and the Olympics

from here

This is my 400th post, so, to keep with the tradition I accidentally started, here’s an update on where I’m at with finding a vocation and dealing with those crippling feelings of mediocrity and directionlessness I first confessed to back in my 100th post, in 2012. Reaching this post this particular week is timely, thanks to both the Olympics and the end of my Graduate Diploma. Let me explain…

First: direction. In my 200th post I mentioned my desire to study psychology, and by my 300th post I’d decided to apply for a course I’d found. I wanted to study psychology back when I left high school, but, convinced I wasn’t intelligent enough for it, I ended up choosing linguistics instead. “Brainy” was the word attached to two of my siblings; I got “pretty” and “sporty.” Though these labels aren’t solely (or even mostly) responsible, my self-esteem is hale and hearty when it comes to looks and my ability to kick and/or catch things, and a crumbly mess when it comes to my academic abilities. This fear of crumbling messily was enough to stop me from pursuing psychology in 2002; I’m thankful that by 2015 I’d finally worked up the courage to sign up despite the scared and screamy voices in my head. And now I’m done! And I did well! The road ahead is long (there’s no end in sight yet), but I know where I’m heading now, which is comforting.

Next: mediocrity and the Olympics. This discovery is fresh out of the oven, and also so simple that I’m embarrassed it was something a) I even needed to discover, and b) I didn’t discover until I was 33 years old. I was tempted to not write about it, but it’s pertinent and it’s been huge, so I figured I had to. Are you dying to know it? Huh?! Oh man. So the Olympics have just finished, and I enjoyed them far more than I expected I would.* I loved Moses and Hazel turning on the TV and seeing women excelling at various sports. I loved the slow mos with uplifting music. I loved the close races (Kyle Chalmers’ 100m final!) and the weird, connected feeling that comes from cheering for the same stranger with other strangers in a café. All of these made me well up with happy tears many times over the fortnight or so the Olympics were on, and I can’t wait for the next one. 

While the Olympics were on, I heard an interview with Kim Brennan’s husband, Scott, who was talking about how hard Kim had trained before the Olympics (she ended up winning the gold medal in rowing); apparently it was a three-times-a-day, six-days-a-week commitment. Three times a day. Six days a week. And I realised: that’s a LOT. Like, to be really good at something, you have to practice a LOT. And maybe I was mediocre at lots of things because I’ve never tried that hard to get better at anything before. I think I’ve always assumed that people who did things well were born with their gifts; I’ve never associated their achievements with effort before! Isn’t that crazy?! You can get quite skilled at things if you work at them, people. You’re welcome. So I’m learning the guitar (again), and practicing singing along. My goal this time is not to become brilliant, but to persist. So far I’ve learned the A, D, and E chords (enough to play Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, which is what I’ve been doing, enthusiastically but awkwardly), as well as how to breathe properly while belting out Nashville songs. My neighbours are probably loving it. 

I was worried that I’d feel an overwhelming sense of purposelessness once my course finished, and I’d need to fill up my time to feel okay (yesterday I heard Brené Brown talking about the things she struggles with that go against everything she’s learned about wholehearted living, among which were perfectionism and linking self-worth with productivity; I completely related). Fortunately, I’m doing fine. Better than fine, in fact! I understand and appreciate what a privilege it is to be able to spend my time learning about Bob Marley songs and breath, and reading books and taking it easy and being, rather than doing.

So, that’s where I’m at: I’m no longer directionless, and my feelings of mediocrity have been sweetened with a dollop of hope that with some effort I’ll be slightly-better-than-mediocre at something, one day.

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* Alan and I realised this year that we have polar opposite views of what was great about the Olympics. Me: I hate equestrian. Him: I love the three-day event in equestrian! I can’t stand swimming. Me: What?! Swimming’s the best!! Field events, though. I’m not a huge fan of those. Him: I love watching the field events!! Shot put! High jump! Me: Boring. Him: You know what’s boring? The running. Me: I love the running! And on it went…

One Wild Life: Soul by Gungor

Love will swim the oceans deep and blue
Sail across the sky ‘til the sky is through
Reach between the space of solitude
Span all other worlds just to get to you

 (from Moon Song by Gungor)

The Liturgists podcast has been one of the main things keeping the faith-room of my mind/heart (where is it?) well-lit and open over the past year while I’ve boxed up doctrines and theology and shifted them out. (Yes, it’s a weird metaphor, but I have limited time.) Half of the team, Michael Gungor, is also half of the band Gungor, who’ve very recently released an album called One Wild Life: Soul. I’ve stumbled upon previous Gungor albums and songs in various places over the last couple of years; my favourites are Beautiful Things and this one:

So. I didn’t know much about Gungor’s music, but I heard about and related to Michael’s journey through the podcast (the Lost and Found episodes are amazeballs), and I imagined how good it could be to hear what that experience sounded like after having been kneaded into poetry and music by the band, which made me decide to throw caution to the wind and pre-order the album. 

I flipping love this album, I can’t stop listening to it. (Please send help.) It probably is just a coincidence that it turned up in iTunes on the same day I’d read through a particularly awful kids’ Bible (a birthday gift for Hazel) – featuring an excessive amount of people getting injured by an angry God – but I’m enjoying attributing it to divine timing anyway. My first 19 or so listens were mostly about enjoying the sound and getting teary each time the music swelled and slowly piecing together lyrics and ideas; the subsequent 413 or so listens have been enjoying each song as a whole. I love both Michael and Lisa Gungor’s voices. I love the layers of sound. I love that the album draws you in and takes you somewhere, but that it’s equally good just playing in the background. (I have no idea how to write about music – is this clear yet?)

I’ve had numerous moments of finally figuring out what a part of a song says and feeling my insides spontaneously warm with complete understanding and relief and solidarity. One of my favourite moments on the album is about two minutes into We Are Stronger – a song about unity with people who don’t see eye to eye – where it says, at the end of a longer list, “Every gay life matters | Fundamentalists matter | Here's to life and all its branches” and then launches into a full choir-y celebration that makes you (me) want to throw your (my) hands into the air and/or cry with joy. It’s glorious. (The “together we are stronger” part that comes after this gets stuck in Mo’s head all the time, and I love hearing him sing it to himself.)

My favourite song, though, is this one, because the lyrics are perfect and it makes me dance, both of which fall extremely high on my list of criteria for falling obsessively in love with a song:

Prepare the way of the Lord
Wielding mercy like a sword
Every mountaintop will be made low
Know, He holds the earth like dust
And His judgement comes to us
And His judgement is love
May our judgement be love

I also love (LOVE) the song You. And Moon Song. And Lion of Rock. In fact, all of the songs are gold, except for Introduction (I skip this one, but only because I like the second song too much and can’t wait to get to it… I actually have no memory of what the Introduction sounds like. I should listen to it again), and possibly Am I (this one’s growing on me).

Musically, the album covers a variety of styles, which (I’ve realised, since spreading my obsession with this one to previous Gungor albums) could probably be categorised as “Gungor Style” (not to be confused with “Gangnam Style”), so it’s possible that there’s a sound in there for you (it depends who “you” is. There is no death metal on this album). Theologically, this album may be challenging for some, and written off by others. I think it’s safe to assume that the author of the kids’ Bible I mentioned, for example, would find the idea of God’s judgment involving compassion rather than screaming and bloodshed heretical – he would probably not appreciate this album to the same, thrilling extent I do. 

One Wild Life: Soul by Gungor is on Spotify, so you can preview it there, and I recommend it wholeheartedly. It scores 47 out of 5 soaring harmonies.

Songs I've been listening to obsessively

 In roughly the order of how obsessed I am, from EXTREMELY to rather.

Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk by Rufus Wainwright. (This song describes my exact experience. For me, the "unmentionables" = Berocca.)

Jericho by Rufus Wainwright

 Plastic Loveless Letter by Magic Dirt

Into the Wild by LP

Throw Your Arms Around Me by Paul McDermott and Friends. (I LOVE the beat in this version. Listening to this song makes me want to a) join a choir and b) marry Paul McDermott's voice.)

Making the Nouveau Riche by Blueline Medic

Bring it Home to Me by Sam Cooke

Runaway by Kanye West (I tried so hard not to love this song, but it didn't work)

Word Crimes by 'Weird Al' Yankovic. (I love that this version lets me enjoy the music but with lyrics I can cope with.)

My exam's tomorrow.

Radio | Ga Ga

from here

The other night I heard a great song on the radio in the car, and I wished the clock in our car worked so that I could remember the time so that I could look the song up on jplay and find out the name and then add it to my ‘music to buy’ list. I was worrying: What if I couldn’t remember the time? What if I forgot to look it up on jplay? What if I never heard the song again? WHY DOESN‘T THE CLOCK IN OUR CAR WORK?!

Then I realised that my freaking out about whether or not I’d ever get a chance to hear the song in future was distracting me from listening to and appreciating the song right then in that moment. Why couldn’t I just love the song when I heard it, rather than spending that time planning to love it on future listens? Why, when I hear a song I like, do I immediately feel the need to own it?

I don’t know the answers to any of these questions.

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This is a clever ad. I was completely sucked in, thinking at first, “Hey - I was born in 1983...” and then at the end, “Oh my goodness, I’M 31!!!!!!!!!! I should sign up to nib health insurance post haste!!” It took me a little while to realise that they didn’t know two facts about me (born in 1983, 31 years old), just one, plus MATHS. Well done, nib. You nearly had me.