This video changed my afternoon. I was in an absolutely horrible, isolated mood (thank you nasty weather and school stress) until I listened to this woman's experience of having a stroke and finding nirvana.


If you have time, you should check it out. It's just under 20 minutes, but so much more enlightening than that re-run of Rock of Love 2.

I hope you're having a great day.

Who Has to Know?

Our scene: The crowded, bustling bookstore at the Kansas University Student Union.

Enter: Our heroine, Lindsey, dressed in her khakis, "Life is Buddhaful" tank top, underwear inside out (unintentionally of course) and aviator shades perched on her head.

She takes a deep breath as she steps into the chaos...


I'll be the first to admit it, I'm not used to a school as large as KU; William Woods and Drury both had less than 5000 students. So to be surrounded by something like 28,000 students is a little bit mind-blowing.

But as I sit here now reflecting back on the bookstore situation (carton of Orange and Vanilla Swirl Rice Dream in hand) I can't help but wonder if I'll actually enjoy the anonymity. I mean sure I'll get to know the students in the Religious Studies program and I'll find my academic community there, but maybe it will be nice to zone out as I enjoy my 30 minute walk to class and not have to worry about who I'm going to see or how I look (which will be sweaty because it's still abhorrently hot here) because chances are I will never get to know these people. I get to sink into the comfort of being unknown.

Who am I kidding? I can't do that.
I long for a way to be connected to those around me. I love the interconnectedness I feel in large groups of people. I'm just like my brother, it's in my nature to become overly-involved and to make people know who I am and to love every minute of it.

I will find a way to enjoy being a medium fish in a large pond. No...wrong metaphor. Ew.
I will find a way to connect.
Watch out KU. ;-)

And on a completely different note- I miss real ice cream.

The Devil's Rejects

(That was my secret name for my small group at camp...11 eighth graders, and while they weren't a family of serial killers by any means, singing that Rob Zombie song on the way to small group always made me smile.)

Oh camp. It's always such a great experience, but never one that can accurately be communicated in any medium. You really do just have to be there. I'm about to attempt the impossible.

I spent last week at the Disciples Center at Camp Tawakoni with 45 eighth graders and a great group of counselors. This was the camp I interned at the two previous summers, but this was my first time counseling what we call "Pre-High". It's always strange having that many eighth graders in one place, especially since I'd known them since they were only Chi Rhoers in sixth grade. The hormones are flying, the anticipation of high school is present but at the same time, they're really just looking for someone to look up to and someone to tell them what to do.

I, being the religious mutt (to borrow a term from Mark) that I am, knew that I wouldn't be a great source of spiritual guidance for these kids but I made it my goal to try and reach them somehow. I wanted them to leave camp ready for high school, with a good sense of who they are.

We had a lot of fun playing all sorts of great camp games and cheating at them every chance we could. I am the Queen of The Mighty Mighty Scoop Noodle Challenge...and by that I mean I know a dozen different ways to cheat. We got in trouble for setting a bad example for the kids, but I still loved K.C.'s (a fellow counselor) motto of "If you ain't cheatin', you ain't tryin' hard enough".

Hopefully the worship experience were meaningful for the campers. Director Jolly did a great job of putting a lot of thought into what she shared with them each night, and the last night we had communion and a really great candlelighting ceremony.

My cabin was a lot of fun- 20 loud obnoxious girls with more eyeliner than a drag show. Every morning (much to their dismay) I woke them up with the Beatles. I was especially proud of the rainy morning when I woke them up with every Beatles song that has the word "sun" in it. They complained that they didn't like my taste in music one night, so the next morning I woke them up to the finale of the 1812 Overture at full volume. The complaining quickly ceased.

My small group posed a challenge for me. I'm great at large group stuff- leading games, songs...whatever. But when it comes to small group discussions and activities I'll admit- it's my weakness. Everyday was a struggle with these kids. They wouldn't focus, at least not on the right things and heaven forbid I brought up God...then the conversation was over.

But there was one evening where I feel like I finally imparted some tiny bit of knowledge on them. We were talking about the story of Ruth and Naomi and survival. We'd played a game dealing with the food chain and animals depending on one another. I had their attention for a moment so I started teaching them about the Buddhist idea of interdependent arising. How everything is part of everything else. I watched their little minds blow as we talked about all the things and people that are present in the food we eat. We went on to talk about mindfulness and my vegetarianism and being thankful for the lives of the animals we eat. It was a great discussion.

It was little moments like those that kept me going through the week. Little glimpses that I had broken through to them, that they were actually thinking for themselves. It was pretty awesome.

These kids are the future. I hope that I made some sort of difference in their lives.
I'm constantly amazed by the potential they have, and it's sad that most older people write them off as no good.

I'm so thankful for the opportunity to have worked with these kids....camp is such a powerful experience and I'm glad I could be a part of it.

Like I said, words just never do it justice...

They Don't Look Like Presbyterians to Me!

Yesterday I took an early morning trip to Topeka to attend church with my grandma Me-Me and then on to Newton for my cousin Laura's wedding shower.

My grandparents are members of Trinity Presbyterian and have been for over 50 years. It's the church that my parents were married in and a church I've attended on many occasions. It was also where we were met with this scene on Sunday morning-
Yes, those are members of the Westboro "Baptist" Church located in Topeka, and yes, they were protesting the Presbyterian church. (Or possibly the Unitarians across the street.) I'm a little surprised Me-Me didn't pop the Buick off the curb and run them down. Instead she just shook her head and said "If they're so righteous, why aren't they in church!"

Unfortunately that's a pretty common sight in Topeka on Sunday mornings. It's frustrating to me because while I believe in free speech, where do we draw the line? Freedom of hate speech? I suppose however that some people might find me equally as offensive-

Those two pictures just re-emphasize my biggest problem with religion- we can twist and manipulate to back up whatever point of view we choose. But that's another issue for another day.

(Probably the 3 hottest cousins ever. I don't know how well this picture shows it, but people use to think Laura and I were twins.)

Laura's wedding shower was fun. I was fortunate to see people I hadn't seen for quite awhile and it's always enjoyable to see what great kitchen gadgets the bride receives. 2 cookie sheets and a set of mixing bowls later and I decided I'd be headed to Tulsa once she and Adam get settled in for some fresh baked cookies.

Cookies and protesters aside, I had one of those crazy "mind-blowing" moments during the worship service in Topeka. We were singing "Holy Holy Holy" (you know...)

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity!

When I read in the hymnal that it was written in 1826, I suddenly had this realization of how many times this song must have been sung in the 50 years my grandparents attended this church, and then how many people have joined in the singing of this song across the world in those 50 years and then all the people who have sung the song in the 181 years since the hymn had been written. I was overwhelmed by this experience I was sharing with millions and millions of people without their realization.

It's mind-blowing how often we share experiences with others and not even know it. We often feel alone and isolated in this big world, when in all actuality by simply being human we share so much with one another. I love and live for those connections, those moments, when I realize there is so much more beyond myself out there.

I hope that you, my reader, know how that feels. I hope that we can have that shared experience of shared experiences. I hope we can have that connection.

I think if everyone had even a momentary realization of our interconnectedness the world would be a vastly different place. People would become people once again. Not untouchables, not the enemy, not "us" and "them", but human beings with rights and dignity.

Maybe I'm just a cock-eyed optimist. But I'm okay with that.

PS: The Presbyterians are cheaters. We were using a Methodist hymnal.
PPS: Thank you to everyone who was at the wedding shower for not asking when I'm going to get married. It was a relief. I'm not weird for not getting married at 22.