Irish Rainbows Unchained: The Marriage Equality Vote

Black and white views and legalism are things which come easily to me.

Maybe it's my education and maybe it's my travels, but I have become what I am sure my family and other conservative Christians would view to be more liberal in my thinking. 

 It's not necessarily that I condone certain thoughts or behaviors but more that I believe a religious order ought not have power to legally regulate behaviors. Following God is a personal choice, followed by all kinds of other (hopefully) spirit-led choices. 

When Jesus came, he abolished the Old Laws. Why, then, do we seem to have fallen deeply back in to law-based Christianity? 

Moreover, why would I believe that it is right to hold any particular country's people to a set of religious bi-laws when religion is both an option as well as an option not held by everyone in the country. It just doesn't sit right with me. There's a difference between legal morality and religious morality. One maintains the health of the nation and one the health of the soul. The latter cannot be regulated from a legal institution. 

When I lived abroad in Northern Ireland, I had to read a ton for my Master's degree. 

Because my coursemates were full-blooded (and hot-blooded) folk from The Republic, they knew the history, political and religious structures, and folklore of the land in which they lived. 

My learning curve was insane. 

I read everything I could get my hands on to make up for my obvious lack of foundation. 

In my studies, I came across layers on layers on religious persecution. Not people persecuted for their religion; people persecuted by their religion. 

My friends could tell me personal stories of the ways in which their practical and spiritual lives were negatively influenced by the Catholic Church. The oppression is excruciating, even in these modern times. 

Now, though, there's this incredible thing happening. 

The Republic of Ireland is undergoing a vote to alter their constitution: "The proposed amendment applies to Article 41 of the Irish Constitution. And it wants to insert the following line: “Marriage may be contracted in accordance with law by two persons without distinction as to their sex.”

If it passes, the Republic of Ireland will be the first country ever to democratically alter their constitution in favor of marital freedom. 

The Catholic religious order has, for centuries, controlled their people socially, sexually, politically, and educationally. 

Take a moment to see the forest, despite the trees. 

Rob Bell, in his book Sex God, would tell you "this is really about that". 

Yeah, this is about same-sex marriage. 

But it's more than that. 

If this were to pass, it would be a country-shattering stand of the underdog against the schoolyard bully. 

Maybe that underdog won't win every battle against the bully--the people may not immediately be able to shake off the saturation of the Catholic religions order--but this vote would be a symbol that the system which has suffocated them for centuries no longer holds all the power. 

Some fear that this vote is a vote against family and morality, and honestly I can't see it that way. Imposing faith through fear-tactics is soul-destructive. God can use whatever he wants to bring his people back to him. If they're driven his way like whipped slaves, they may follow but they will not love their master. 

It's time to end the rein of the Catholic Church in Ireland. 

It's time to give the people a choice, it's time to shake the foundations, it's time to vote. 

Forge New Roads

Running outside is the worst. Because of allergy season, I've done my couch to 5k training on the indoor track.

Last week, though, I decided it was time to move my long legs to the outdoors.

I left from my office, which connects to both the graveyard and the trail that goes around JBU and Siloam.

It's the same path Noah and I used to circle and circle and circle for 1-6 hours at a time, the same path my sophomore roommate used to make me run every morning from January to March of 2012.

I hated every second of that run. It was so much harder than running on the track! I was out of breath, desperate, and saying more obscenities than my mother would approve of. And it was supposed to have been an easy run schedule that day. As I ran, my head circled with memories of mornings and late nights and I knew how the trail would turn and twist and could anticipate each predictable frustration.

Today, I changed route. Running through the graveyard and into residential zones, I ran places I had never been before with anyone else and had no idea of what to expect. The hills were steeper, the twists were sharper, and cars came from both directions. I didn't know where I was going, but I kept track of my turns.

The run schedule for today was more arduous than last week's, but I found myself energized and capable of doing it without wanting to give up.

Change: I think that's what it takes, sometimes, to find new motivation. Kind of like the saying, "if you always do what you've always done you'll always get what you've always gotten".

I find myself frustrated by people who won't change any of their habits but constantly complain about the outcomes of those habits.

You're overweight but you won't run.

You're broke but you won't give up your iPhone or monthly manicure.

You're friendless but you won't go out to meet new people.

I accuse, but I'm certain I have my own which are blatant to others. 

One of my vices was pointed out last year at this time by a professor I very much admire. When hearing me complain about a recent romantic annoyance, he looked at me and said, "Odom, you're attracted to the wrong people."

What.

But he was right. All my relationships or flings or trysts followed the same trajectory because each person I had shown interest in was basically the same as the last. And I had wondered when they ended why they did.

And that's when he brought me (yes brought me) Julius.

I couldn't have made a list of things I deeply needed in a person because I didn't know until I re-met him. And piece by piece, it became clear that his innate facets fit into mine.

Never would I have chosen a path with him, I had my chance freshman year when we had met the first time.

My road run with him, though, is an easy burden. There's always something new to challenge us and inclines are a thing, but at the end of the day, I'm not exhausted. I feel good. I feel ready for tomorrow.

So whether it's a person, place, or thing, if you've come to a path where the rock always melts just before you reach the summit or the water always drains just as your lips reach its rim, try something new.

I've Got Bins

This past weekend was absolutely a thrill. My housemate Liz is moving to Oregon at the end of the month, so my moving gift to her (really, it was a thinly veiled gift to myself) was helping her go through all of her belongings in every room and dividing them into keep, trash, and sell piles.

It felt like I was living out my dream of being a member of the "Clean Sweep" team. The most wrongly cancelled program ever. It was like crack for the OCD. I loved it.

You take a room (or two) jack crammed full of clutter from all the years and transform spaces. *chills*

It took us probably around 18-20 hours to get it all done, and we still have some more to price and organize for Saturday's garage sale.

Purging.

Like me, Liz is very sentimental. Her purge involved going through not just her bedroom and crap boxes but the large bins in the garage, the place where memories hide.

Notes, tiny gifts, trinkets, pieces of clothes that don't really fit anymore.
Paper, stuffed bears, keychains, that kind of ugly sweater. If you found it in someone else's closet,  you'd want to toss it immediately. None of them are valuable in and of themselves.

Because it doesn't have much to do with the object.
It's the adventure you were on with your family when you found the keychain, the dark place you were in when you received the note, the love that gave you the bear, the sweater that you and your best friend discovered in a thrift store.

We miss the person/place/era. It's a memento from a pin in time that you won't be able to get back to.

Weekends are no longer meant for best friend slumber parties.
Summers are no longer meant for extended family vacations with just your immediate family. You probably don't all fit in the van the same way (babies, wives, husbands).
Hidden presents in your locker from that cute boy you've got a crush on don't happen anymore.
There's just not a reason for ironically ugly matching sweater sets.

We miss our pasts, and when we keep all the crap from them, it's like our way of keeping them just a little bit alive.

The thing is, they're not alive. They keep your present from living and fill your garage with piles of useless, heavy bins.

Throw it away, recycle it, bag it up and take it to Goodwill.
Still too fresh? That's okay. Just be judicious in how much you allow yourself to keep.

"But maybe I'll use this paperwork in the future!!!"
How long have you had it? Have you used it in that time? No? Recycle.

"But I love all the memorabilia I kept from that vacation!!"
Cool. Stick in a jar and make it decor for your home. It can't stay in a box.

You don't have to throw away everything that means something to you, but learn to emotionally distance yourself and let yourself move on. Make practical what you can, take pictures of sweet notes or paste them on to the back of a picture of that friend, make a quilt of old t-shirts, give a cousin/friend the clothes you like best.

Repeat the purge every spring--don't wait for the next moving process (you'll be super overwhelmed)

It's time to let go.

Advice for Aspiring Writers

It's rather ironic that I'm writing this considering that I haven't written creatively in two years now. Nevertheless,

1.) Spend some time each day reading. Read everything. Read non-fiction, fiction, newspapers, smut magazines (People is my favorite), poetry, prose, essays, philosophy, theology, modern, classic, contemporary. Broaden your scope as widely as you can. Inspiration comes from collaboration.

2.) Find a writing friend. My best guy friend for a very long time was named Peter. He is bursting with passion and ideas and words and talking to him is like plugging in to to a supercharger. Every time we would meet up for coffee, I would leave buzzing with residual energy, ready to write volumes of work. Actually, it was after he took me to Panera for my birthday that Woodsy was born. It's my favorite thing I've written, a short novel for a class. Bounce ideas off your friend, exchange pieces with one another for critique and accountability. Friends help you build and keep momentum.

3.) Schedule. Each and every day, whether it's in a notebook or a computer, write. Every day. Preferably during the same time slot every day but at least half an hour every single day. Journal, write a vignette of someone, copy down a conversation you overheard, paint a word picture, music and restaurant and coffee shop reviews, something.

4.) Stay away from screens. Speaking from experience, screens suck out your brain, soul, and creative energy. If you have to be glued to a screen for work, write in a journal for a change of pace.

5.) Get out. Leave your house. Leave the office. Go sit in the lawn and garden section or Walmart, go sit in a coffee shop, go to a local art fair, go to a local flea market, go people watch! Talk to strangers, non-stalkerly watch and listen to strangers, volunteer at nursing homes and talk to old people, babysit, go to museums and make up stories about the people in different paintings or the people who painted them, take a foreign language class at the community college, take a pottery class, go to a wine/painting session (Pinot's Palate is fun). Go, do, collect stories.

6.) If you're a recent college graduate especially, get a job straight out of college that has absolutely nothing to do with your english degree and don't take any crap for it. Work as a dental assistant, waitress, night guard at a museum, do something that will force you to build experience outside of the pages of a book. Collect stories. Make up stories. Re-vision stories you have lived.

7.) "Write shitty first drafts" (in the words of my college writing professor). Don't worry if what you're writing is worth a Pulitzer prize. It's not. Accept it and have fun creating without self-consciousness. You can revise and redesign later.

8.) Write everything. Write poems and prose and non-fiction essays and fiction chapters and short stories and children's stories. Write about the construction and maintenance of garage doors, about the men who maintenance them, about the families of the men who maintenance them, about the hopes and dreams of the kids in the families of the men who maintenance garage doors, about the adventures of imaginary friends in the hopes and dreams of the kids in the families of the men who maintenance garage doors, about the glitter pony unicorn pets of the imaginary friends in the  hopes and dreams of the kids in the families of the men who maintenance garage doors.

If you run out of creative juices, remind yourself that you are a creative person because you were creatively made. It's in your genes, in your very DNA. Sometimes it just needs be a little teased out into the open again.

I guess that's where I am, in the phase of telling myself, "I have written, I can write, I will write again."

Rising to Requirement

I've taken to picking up the mail in order to get me out from behind my desk. Yesterday, there was a large package for one of my bosses needing to be taken across campus back to our office.

Instinctively, I hoisted it and the tray of other mail up on one hand above my head just as I had learned to do when I waitressed.

When I did so, I recalled my training days and how intimidated I was at the idea that I was not just encouraged but required to carry each tray full of food with one hand above my head, grabbing a tray stand with the other and maneuver my way to the correctly numbered table.

Some of those trays were 30 or so pounds or more--don't even get me started with fajitas for a table of four.

Muscle is not something I've ever prided myself on. Ain't no pictures of me flexing in front of a mirror. This task was my personal fear factor. Images of dropping hot plates of enchiladas on children and the elderly danced through my head during my entire training. How was I going to do this?

But I did.

Fajitas and I never became bosom friends, but I got some very nice shoulder muscles and learned to do my job quickly and efficiently, with a smile on my face.

It's amazing how much capacity we have to rise to the occasion even when, at the start of a project/semester/job, it's easy to become overwhelmed and discouraged.

When I began my MA program, it was 5000 word papers that caused anxiety.
Waitressing brought "big tops", timed everything, and tray carrying.
Admissions brought travel season planning, events coordinating, and dressing like an adult every day.
Running brought running.

We rise to requirement, whether that's psychological, emotional, spiritual, physical, or mental.

The times we don't, I truly believe it's because a piece of us doesn't want to or doesn't believe we can.
Sometimes, like obedience, the actions come before the feelings.

If I think about running, I won't go. If I think about the distance that I need to run, I will give up.
If I had let myself ruminate on my papers when I was coping with my depression, they wouldn't have gotten written. I'm still unsure how they got written in the first place, but they did.

Looking at the whole can be wholly exhausting.
One step, one phone call, one mile (or one lap), one tray, one chapter, one paragraph, one outfit.
Small achievable goals.

And someday, you'll be walking across your own quad with a heavy box above your head/walking across the stage to receive your Master's/finishing up 6 weeks of travel for work/running 3 miles for the first time/effortlessly pairing a business casual ensemble for the 3972 time (or whatever your equivalent is) and think to yourself, "I can do so much more than I can imagine. Thanks be to God".