The Church Chronicles. Part, the Second.

photo courtesy of here. not actually a picture of the place i am talking about...

So, there I was. Well, if you don't know why I was there, read the post before the last one. If you don't know where I was, the answer was...another anonymous church. I don't want to be traced. They advertised a "Single Adults Ministry" that met on Thursday nights. It sounded interesting, so I decided to check it out. Let's start by saying that this church was out in the middle of East Bumblyberg, by which I mean the sticks, the boonies, the middle of the proverbial Nowhere. It took a solid half hour of driving from my house to make it out there, not a point in its favor. But once I saw the place, I understood why. They needed the room. A sprawling sea of asphalt surrounded a building as large as...time out for a second. I have no spatial reasoning skills. I could not even slightly guess at the actual square footage of this thing. And, in metaphorical terms, I tend to exaggerate (It was as large as four football fields, end to end!). I cannot give you a comparable estimate. Suffice it to say, it was a very, very, very large church. That large church you have in your mind now? No, bigger.

So, I pulled into the enormous parking lot, and drove a good 40 seconds before I was on the side of the church where all the other cars were parked, which I presumed to be the entrance. I saw a number of older adult women as I pulled through the lot, maybe 40 or 50, heading for the church, giving me funny looks. I assumed they had an aversion to Patsy Cline, who was crooning through my speakers at the time, and decided not to hold it against them and move on. I parked, walked in, successfully maneuvered away from the welcome table, made my way through the inevitable in-church Starbucks doppelganger, and walked into the doors of the worship space.

Right off the bat, MORE ROUND TABLES! Okay, timeout again for a second here. I realize that you want to be hip, emergent, and "build community." But I am a first time guest, I am your Holy Grail, your Golden Haired Woman, your Maltese Falcon. I am who you're trying to build community with. And let me tell you, I am deeply turned off by round tables. This is a CHURCH! I want to sit in a ROW, a PEW, or some other in-straight-lines configuration that doesn't launch me into the most uncomfortable part of the experience (making-eye-contact-and-small-talk) right off the bat. PLEASE!

Ahem. Moving on. I walk in the door and there is the inevitable Hillsong worship, projected on the inevitable dizzying powerpoint projecter, with the inevitable gotee-ed pastor and...What image does "single adults ministry" of a large, suburban church conjure up for you? Go ahead. Ponder a moment. Let me tell you what struck mine eye as soon as I walked through the door. ALL OLD PEOPLE! Like, there was one person in the entire room that was under the age of 40, and he was running the sound board. This was just so far from my wildest imaginings of what I would face. This was the whole point of me moving away from my much enjoyed Lutheran church. Have we already talked about how I have nothing against old people, I just have a surfeit of them in my life at the moment and no new friends my own age! And then, to come to the "Single Adults Ministry" and find that, you know, I don't feel I was misled. These were probably single adults. I just couldn't believe that, in the whole group, which I spent time surveying from the back of the room, I couldn't find a single other person in their 20s. Am I the only 20 something in Buffalo, for crying out loud!!!!

And, then I left. Yes, that's right, did not stay for the rest of the worship time, did not stay for the message, just turned around, visited the ladies room as a diversion, and then left through a different set of doors than the ones I came in (there were many). It was, to be sure, a great defeat. Although, I have said consolingly to myself, I don't know that I could have ever seriously considered a church with such a large parking lot. I have currently retired to lick my wounds for a while and look for new leads on young churches. A couple are forthcoming. We'll see what happens next in The Church Chronicles!!! (Bum bum baaaaaaah!! Echoey voice, animated graphic of two giant stone doors slamming shut, with THE CHURCH CHRONICLES engraved on the outside. This is my tv show. Didn't you know that?)

Until next time,
S.

Something's brewing

I have been restless lately. Not lately as in this afternoon, but lately as in, well, at least a week or so. But it's strong. Suddenly I have this overwhelming desire to change everything. To move out of this house. To move out of this city. To move to a different city, or maybe to the country. To live in a cabin in the woods, away from everyone. To live in an urban commune with everything held in common. To get a dog. To get a new wardrobe. To get new friends. To get a new job. Not just a new client, but a completely new line of work. To change the season. To get a kiddie pool for the backyard. To play in the sprinkler. To go on a long, long drive, and not look back.

I feel like I used to know where my life was heading, what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now I feel like I'm just getting jobs because they sound like fun to me, but I don't really have any idea where this is all heading. Maybe that is the thing. I feel like in all this muddled desire for change, there is something that really does need to happen or to change, or something is about to happen, maybe without me doing anything. But I could not, for the life of me, say which of these things it is.

This is how it went down.

"Sunday's Coming" Movie Trailer from North Point Media on Vimeo.

I decided recently that I need more friends. Now, maybe this sounds like some latent desire that everyone probably has or is at least open to, but for me this represents a significant sea change. After graduating from college, I had a lot of friends that dispersed, and of course I missed them, but for the most part, I was content because it took so much time staying in touch with everyone through phone calls, facebook, cards, and e-mails, that my schedule felt full. But then, I was living in Houston and making no friends there and it hit me, one night, that you can have friends that you love all over the globe, but if you have no one to go see a movie with, it's no good.

Flash forward to Buffalo, where friends abound! to the point that I am again not in the market, and am, in fact, making friends against my will. But, for the most part, these are tango friends, work friends, theatre friends, or coffee date friends. They are glorious, remarkable human beings, and I feel delighted to have the opportunity to get to know them, but. They are all older than me, and busy with careers and weddings and familys and not the kind of folks you can call up out of the blue on a Saturday night. Combine that with the fact that some of my own friends, my bedrock buds, the people that I would call up on a Saturday night and drink with and dance with and most certainly take to the movies, are moving away from Buffalo. It's surprising what even a small reduction does to your sense of community. You go from feeling established with an embarrassment of riches to feeling shaky, unstable, and wondering.

The thing that one finds in post-college life, or at least that I've found, is that you don't just stumble upon interesting, intelligent, engaging people under every rock. There used to be so many of them! Where did they go!?! Rather than spend thousands of dollars on a grad school education that I don't really want, I've decided to turn to another social hub: churches. Yes, I go to a Lutheran church, which I am actually quite fond of, but there are no, and I mean NO young people there. There are probably less than 10 people who regularly attend church and are under the age of 35. So, I'm...gulp...church shopping. I hate it, but what's a girl to do? All of a sudden I have a very different set of criteria for what I am looking for in a church, and it's a short list, sadly enough. I think it's worth it to make a switch. I think it is.

I started a couple weeks ago by investigating a church which...shall remain nameless. Suffice it to say, it's the urban outreach of a very large, suburban church, held in what looks like the shell of an old, unhip church that probably ran out of money and went under a while ago. I walked in on Sunday morning and was stopped just inside the door by someone asking me, "Are you new?" I admitted, with hesitation, that I was, and was taken over to the new people table, where I was informed that, "if I filled out a visitor's card, I would get to take home my choice of book and a prize." Feeling like I was playing a carnival game instead of attending church, I reluctantly put down my contact information and was given the choice of blah blah blah, by Max Lucado, something or other Every Man's Battle, blah Book Cover Showing Woman With Arms Flung Wide in Field. Realizing that I cared very little about my choice, I just grabbed a book and my charming little giftbag and moved on.

I was ushered to a seat at one of the church's many round, cafeteria style tables, where people were sitting in groups. At my table was an older couple, an older woman holding somebody else's baby, and a woman who looked like she was in her mid-thirties, alone. I had missed what was probably the bulk of the worship and we seemed to be in the midst of announcements? The pastor told us, "We know that God doesn't sleep, but, if he did, what would be the last thing he thinks about before going to be? Also, when he wakes up, although we know from the Scripture that he doesn't wake up because he doesn't sleep, but if he did, what would be the first thing he would think about when he woke up? Discuss it right now, at your tables." What followed was a very awkward 40 seconds where we looked around at each other nervously until the pastor interrupted and said, "Now what were your answers, shout them out," which was responded to with cries of "Love," "Us," and "Salvation."

"Those are all good answers," the pastor said. He went on, but I drifted away, lost in trying to figure out what was going on (was this the sermon? why was the worship band just standing around and waiting?) The next group activity we were asked to do was for us all to share a "win" from the week, some thing that we had done that was uniquely great because we were Christian. "I got a hug from a woman because I tied her shoe for her when her hands were full," said the woman with the borrowed baby. We talked about this and about the school that she worked at and how many days left till summer break for another thirty seconds till the pastor interrupted again. Then we were all supposed to pray together, outloud, at our tables. I felt uncomfortable.

After that, they played what must have been the final song in their worship set. It was something someone at the church had written, I think, I had never heard it before. It made full use of the stage full of electric guitars and drums. The stage itself looked like what would be the set if they turned Les Mis into a rock opera. There were two makeshift altars on either side of the church, festooned with candles. One said "Love" and the other said "Home," both in old, rusty letters. The powerpoint slide backgrounds were animated. I had a hard time focusing.

After the song, we all settled in for the sermon. It was purportedly about singleness, but instead the majority of the time was spent talking about how to date God's way. Not too much physical contact right up front. Don't start talking about "the m word" (marriage) too soon. Guard your heart. Etc. When the sermon was over and we said the final prayer, I slipped out the back.

The upside? There were tons of young people.

Is this what it's come to? That in order to go to a church with other twenty-somethings they have to be, candle-lighting, incense smoking, song-writing, take-communion-anytime-you-feel-led, emergent flaky people? That is a soap box I could speak from for days, but I won't. Suffice it to say, I don't know that I would go back there. It felt so uncomfortable on so many different levels. I...feel defeated. But! I can't give up after just one church! So, stay tuned for the ongoing adventures of...The Church Chronicles!

(yeesh. wish me luck.)
S.

Catching Up is Hard to Do...

OMG. Okay, I'm all about the blogging without obligation thing, to a certain point, but I don't think that point extends to over a month of non-posting. Does it help if I say I've been busy? May was mostly devoted to a benefit I helped plan ("The Art of Womanhood" to benefit The Priscilla Project, a really wonderful charity that helps pregnant refugee women) and then after that, a really big tango weekend towards the end of the month. The weekend included, in addition to the usual milongas and workshops, a performance that was at the theatre that I work at, so I was doubly involved in that, and ended up helping out with the show in a very hands on way. As in, climbing up and down into the sound booth (which is, in fact, just on scaffolding up behind the seats, so when I say climb, I really do mean climb) and running the follow-spot, which clanged down into a lower setting in its stand during the show, making a big noise and scaring the crap out of me. That was an epic evening to be sure. And then, gone for two weeks in Houston for the high-school graduation of the little sis, and you heard me right, that was two weeks, two full weeks of absence and a very, very busy time that was as well.

And now back in Buffalo, trying to catch up on...everything. Work, life, friends, cleaning, the whole nine yards. No rest for the weary. So, for the past month, I guess that has meant that my poor little blog has been left in the dust. But, never fear, intrepid readers. I hope to post sufficiently in the next few months, despite the incredible obstacles standing in my path. But I am planning some interesting stuff. Now that the guitar challenge is officially over (with mixed results) I am planning to do the same thing with a 30 day writing challenge, and the blog should hopefully reap some of the fruits of that labor. There is also a little side project I am working on this summer which could yield some very interesting posts indeed...

But, holy cow! It's basically summer! It's all happening so quickly! But this is so completely my favorite time in Buffalo (except for maybe spring or fall) and I am so glad it has arrived. I have been pulling out all my cute summer clothes, buying a pitcher for the gallons of iced tea I hope to have always on hand, planning strawberry shortcakes aplenty, eyeing the backyard for the next phase of renovation, enjoying my first street fair of the year and generally feeling awhirl with the change of seasons. I have a feeling it's going to be really, really good. Hang in there, my faithful intrepids. There's good stuff to come.

Coffee with Famous People

So, where's that spring list, how's it coming? Mmmm...well. I feel like the funny thing about this project is that I started it in the fall, and I have, for some reason, tons of associations of what ought to be done in the fall. But other seasons, not so much. I'm not complaining, it's been a fun project and it helps me to have more fun, explore more. I just want you to realize, these lists don't come from thin air. So, for spring, I have plant the garden (check-ish), spring cleaning (oh yeah, total check, so worth it), celebrate amazing birthday (check check check) flying kites (not checked) and...? One of the things that makes it tough is that the weather in Buffalo spring is so unpredictable, so there are just days that feel like summer and days that feel like winter and not much in between. One of the things that has been amazing, though, is all the flowers. Oh my goodness. This city explodes into bloom in the spring. There are flowering trees everywhere, and everyone plants tulips and crocus and daffodils (including yours truly) and there are even huge banks of daffodils on either side of the 33. It's so gorgeous. Now, if it would just warm up... What about you? Any spring must-dos or must-sees?

So, actual point of this post. Just for fun, I made a little list of people I'd love to sit down with for a cup of joe and pick their brains a little bit. Maybe they will read this blog and we can make it happen...

1. Jon Stewart--Yes, of The Daily Show. He is very interesting to me because he's very funny, but he doesn't have to make himself ridiculous like Colbert does (although he will if the occasion calls for it). He meets people where they're at and he has one of the most powerful voices in American politics today. Being funny makes you powerful. Proof positive. If we did have coffee, I would ask him what he would actually do in public office. Because he'll never run. Pundits don't ever want to be the insects under glass, they want to be the ones poking them and making jokes.

2. Tina Fey--This is actually the lady who started the list. We have so much in common! Okay, I actually might identify with her 30 Rock character, Liz Lemon, than with the great lady herself. But, come on, you can't come up with that stuff without some deep personal pain, probably from middle school (I am not projecting!) I would want to ask her what it's like being a funny lady in a man's world. And, how much she is or was like Liz Lemon.

3. Barack Obama--Yes, I know he's the president! I know he can't sit down and have coffee with me! But neither can Tina! Why should I be limited by reality? Okay, I DO NOT want this to become a political blog, but I was an Obama support way back in 2008 when he was running and it has been interesting to watch his presidency, as being politically involved has made me feel more engaged than I ever have with other presidents. I would like to ask him about a few things that I don't think have been going so well and see why he made the choices he did and whether I might think differently if I had more information. Plus, he seems like a very interesting person and I think we'd have a great time. I hope he brings Michelle, she's doing such good things with the kids and the gardens and what not.

4. Tim Keller--he is the pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian church in NYC and, since I figure that even if I did go to that church, it's probably so big by now that we'd never have time to sit and chat, I better make a point to schedule coffee now. I first discovered Tim while at L'Abri, and I enjoy listening to his sermons so much. I love that he addresses the concerns of contemporary people, but he doesn't try to be "hip" by talking nonsense or watering down his theology. He's actually pretty darn conservative, but he explains things in a way that are so convincing. And the way that he talks about Jesus makes him sound like a person I've never heard of before, even though I've been a church-goer for pretty much my entire life. If you're curious, you can listen to his stuff here.

5. Molly Wizenberg--She is the author of my favorite food blog, Orangette, a wonderful writer and she collaborates on a hilarious series of podcasts called "Spilled Milk." We have lots in common. We could have swoony conversations about goat cheese, rhubarb, and Paris. We would probably be best friends. Just give us a chance, Molly.

That's all I have for you today, my ducklings. Who are your coffee buddies, real and fantastical? This...just makes me want iced coffee.

Guitar Challenge (cue sweet riff here)

Here we are, a rainy Sunday afternoon, after making a big pot of cassoulet and plenty of almond biscotti to get me through the week (did you know I sometimes think about turning this into a food blog? But I don't relish the thought of taking all those pictures. Get it? Relish? Anyway...). The view from out my window is supernaturally green, like, shimmering, wet, green green. Unbelievable, Emerald Isle, spring green. And it has been all about the spring this weekend. We bought seeds on Friday for our future garden. So much potentiality and excitement in seeds, it makes me want to sing! And then Saturday we were engaged in massive, epic, earth-shaking spring cleaning. The kind where you don't just wipe down the kitchen counters, you clean out the fridge and all the old, weird food from your cabinets, and scrub off the greasy cabinet above the stove, and dust everything in the living room and clean up above the lintels of the doors. The house is so clean. It's...amazing. I wish it could be like this forever.

Not much headway on putting together a spring list, and actually, as I reflect, I'm not very happy with my achievements on the winter list either. I still haven't been to the Albright-Knox to actually see the gallery, although I was there for a splendid milonga a few weeks ago. I still, after two winters in Buffalo, have yet to spend some time sledding, although I did make it to the Powder Keg Festival downtown and wander through the ice maze. (Which, is actually nothing like sledding, but they had sledding down an exit ramp, which is why I thought of it. Unfortunately, the exit ramp sledding was not successful...). And I still haven't made it to an open jazz session at the Colored Musicians' Club and I STILL, and most disappointingly, haven't been to one of the Cajun Zydeco Partees! Sometimes I am surprised to find that, even with all my independence of spirit and embrace of the single lifestyle, there are still places that I don't feel comfortable going to alone. But that's a topic for another post...

On the other hand, I did spend time at the Botanical Gardens, I did enjoy a snowy romp or two, I did immerse myself in baking, especially breads, which was a delight, I continued to nurture my artsy, craftsy side, there was at least one delightful evening of Apples to Apples, and I made serious headway on another little side project which I will hopefully reveal the results of in a few weeks (if you think it's a baby you're 1. wrong and 2. have a seriously misguided understanding of biology.).

But, all list-making aside, I did want to pause for a few moments to clue you in on something that's been stewing and brewing in my brain in regards to this whole guitar thing. I realize that I've mentioned a number of times that I now own a guitar (her name is Lucille) and am trying to practice the guitar and be disciplined about so doing, but there is a whole philosophical underpinning to this endeavor. (Of course there is, this is me we're talking about). I feel like everyone should at least attempt a musical instrument in their lifetime, and I actually have before, round about the grade school years when all the cool kids were doing it. I made a half-hearted attempt on the cello, had to miss a few lessons for what I'm sure were legitimate reasons, fell behind in the class and couldn't catch up again and gave it up. It should be mentioned that I have no natural musical ability to speak of. I floundered when attempting to play the recorder, for heaven's sake (remember those? in case not, they were really, really easy to play). Somewhere along the line, I think you can see that it becomes something more than, "Everybody should probably do this."

Okay, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I have to admit that a lot of what I've done in my life has come easily to me. This is mostly because for the first 22 years, my life centered around academia, and that is an area at which I could naturally excel, even without necessarily trying very hard. Music is different. Music is tough. Music makes me feel dumb. I have noticed that if I don't practice, even for a week, I feel like I've lapsed so far in terms of the time it takes me to remember where my fingers are supposed to go and get them there. I get frustrated at being so slow. Practicing isn't fun. I would avoid it if I could. And don't even talk about music theory. That stuff is so far over my head...it's tough. That's all I'm trying to get across here.

But I believe that it is fundamentally good for me to do something that is so difficult for me. I need to learn how to stick with something through the tedium, through the boring exercise of moving back and forth between the A and D chords that I can't get away with not doing. I can't fake my way through it, I can't talk my way out of it, if I don't put in the work, I won't get any better. Imagine that. Hence all the talk of the need for discipline, and how I'm discovering that I don't have any. But I wasn't joking about that 30 day challenge. We are a week in, and although I did skip one day (for very legitimate reasons, but remember, in Guitar Challenge, there are no legitimate reasons!) I did practice every other day. I think good things are happening. They might not be. They might not happen for a long, long time. But that's okay. I'm gonna stick with it. For as long as it takes...

S.

P.S.--I love Castle. That does not relate in even the remotest way to anything I've just told you. But you should know. Because if you don't love it too, I probably think you're a bad person. FYI.

Discipline (or lack thereof)

I took this picture. I have no idea where or what it is...

Can we just talk about something for a sec? Somewhere along the line, I created this impression of myself as a disciplined person. Actually, I think I've thought of myself this way for quite some time. I always turned in my homework on time. The assigned readings got completed. I usually managed to keep my living space from falling into a state of total disarray. Also, my dancing. I used to go twice a week for at least an hour to the parish hall of Westminster Presbyterian. Then I started taking a very intense dance class and would go every week. The thing is, I go every week. Rain or shine or snow or hail or sleepiness or Friday afternoon torpor not withstanding. I simply allow myself no other option. The one exception is if I'm feeling really sick. But otherwise, when I'm sitting in the big comfy red chair and feeling like I'd rather just take a nap, I say to myself, "Shannon, what day is it?"
"Friday."
"And where should you be?"
"Dancing. But I don't wanna!"
"Are you sick?"
"No."
"Is your leg broken?"
"No."
"Then get up and go!"
And that's all there is to it. There is only one option. I have come to see all that as incidental. It's one thing to be very disciplined about one big commitment every week. It's quite another thing to be disciplined about something that ought to be happening every day. I am speaking specifically of writing and this whole guitar enterprise. These are things that I should be committed to doing in at least 15 minute increments every single day. Who can't find 15 minutes in a day, even a busy day? The problem is partially that I sometimes save these things till the evenings, which are in many ways the busiest times of the day for me. But I work from home, for crying out loud! Can I not fit in 15 minutes of guitar practice on my lunch hour? I absolutely could, but I wait till the end of the day, till I'm tired and feeling like Oh, I worked so hard today, I shouldn't have to do something else I don't want to do. Then I spend the evening watching episodes of 30 Rock on Netflix. A wonderful show, but I could take 15 minutes out of the evening for the guitar without causing undue stress. That's the thing that gets me. My reasons for NOT doing it are so stupid. Grrr...

So I've decided to go with the 30 day challenge method. You know how they say it takes 30 days to form a habit. Well, I'm going to try to commit to 30 days of practicing the guitar for 15 minutes every day. I know, the writing needs work too, but I feel like trying to take on both at the same time is overly ambitious, so here we are. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm saying that I'm starting today, because I've already practiced, so that's one down, 29 to go...

S.