How to be alone

I recently listened to an audiobook by Jonathan Franzen titled How to be Alone. It is actually a compilation of essays, opening with the story of the death of Franzen's father, who suffered with Alzheimer's for years. He talks about books, of course, and cities, and writing, relationships, the curse of television, and how to be alone. These essays really intrigued me because I loved the way Franzen drew so much insight out of the ordinary, day-to-day monotony we lose ourselves in. It's a strange sensation to feel alone in a crowd, but it a feeling every human being can identify with. Even if you don't live in a big city or go out much, we have all felt loneliness. And the cool thing is, it's not always bad.

I am introvert, and I love to read books alone, process my emotions alone, watch movies alone, and just be alone a lot. But there are many times I have to get away from myself and my own thoughts. I like to have fun and be social, but I have also learned that sometimes I can be the only companion I need. I used to fear being alone in terms of never falling in love and getting married and thus, ending up alone. Now I crave my alone time, and when I think back to a great day spent alone, my mind travels back to the summer of 2010 when I studied abroad in France.

I got to do a lot of traveling while I was in France, but because it was such a short time and I was so engrossed in the language and culture, I wanted to stay in France. On my second to last weekend in the country, the group of girl friends I had gained during my experience decided they wanted to stay in Aix, (Aix-en-Provence) where we lived to go shopping. I had traveled to many nearby villages on the bus in groups, but I desperately wanted to visit the town of Avignon because of its history. I didn't want to go alone, but I also didn't want to go shopping. My suitcase was full and I could shop in the states, so at the last minute I decided to be adventurous and go by myself.

I walked to the bus station, spoke in French unaccompanied, and boarded a bus for a 3 hour ride to the beautiful town of Avignon. I had a nervous excitement as I sat on the bus, realizing I was alone, in a foreign country, about the spend the whole day in a new town....alone! I felt some fear, but on the bus I distracted myself with prayer, music, and some good reads. When I arrived in town, I didn't really have a game plan, so I just started following the people who looked like tourists. I eventually asked someone, and they led me to the tourist center where I bought a map. I then found a cafe and planned to map out my course for the day over a cafe au lait. I began to soak up the atmosphere around me, feeling to quintessentially French, when suddenly my waiter dropped an entire glass of Orangina on me. He apologized profusely, even as I assured him to not worry. I'm sure he would've received quite the word-lashing from most French women. My drink was free and he brought me a meal for free as well. I still left him a tip :)

As I left the cafe, sticky but unfazed, I began to just walk. I tried to follow my map for a while, but then I decided to just wander. I visited the palace of the popes, and walked through a park. I remember certain moments of the day, thinking, I'm alone. But the feeling was invigorating. I felt independent and spontaneous, and I was loving everything I witnessed around me. The day was simple, and I boarded my bus on-time to return home. My parents were horrified when I told them what I had done, but I didn't want them worrying the whole time, which is why I didn't tell them sooner. To this day my mom will say, "I can't believe you spent a whole day alone in a foreign place," and I'll just smile, looking back on the fond memory.

This simple memory will stick with me, reminding me that there is always an opportunity for an adventure, and it will always teach you something new about yourself. I was so proud that the girl who had once cried every day of summer camp being away from her parents was now on her own in France. "Alone" has a negative connotation when it shouldn't. Alone does not equal lonely, and it does not mean that no one cares. Practicing the art of being alone has made me more secure of who I am, and I know I have a life of practicing it ahead of me, whether I get married or not, whether I live in a crowded area or not.

Add this to your reading list.

I recently finished reading the memoir Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber and it has become one of my favorite books. Carolyn's story is one of faith, love, and there is no shortage of books. She travels to Oxford to get her Graduate degree in Romantic Literature, my absolute dream, and ends up finding God in the process. Set in one of the most beautiful academic environments in the world, this memoir shows how intellect can only come so far before you recognize your need for more.

I love this book not only for its true story, and the kindred spirit I have in the author, but also in the way I found it. One of my favorite things to do when I'm happy or unhappy is to go to a bookstore. It's a remedy when I'm lonely, celebration when I'm feeling good, and perfect companion even when I want to be alone. I'll wander through the shelves, occasionally plucking one from its home to flip through its pages. When I bought this book this summer, it was in this exact format. I was needing some alone time, not looking for anything in particular, when I happened upon it. At that time I was disappointed at deciding not to study abroad at Oxford in the fall like I had always dreamed, so when I saw this book's title and read the back, I knew it was buy-worthy.

I hope to one day have a graduate degree in Romantic Literature, and my favorite poet is John Donne, so when I opened this book to its first page and found an introductory quote from Donne, I nearly fainted. I hadn't even read one line from the author and thought, "I have to meet this woman!"

In the book she talks about her journey from being an agnostic, to falling completely head-over-heels in love with Jesus Christ. It did not happen quickly, and her own romantic love story is interwoven in the book, not being revealed until the end. She keeps it underwraps because the focus of the book is her faith journey, within the old, scholarly world of Oxford. I could totally relate to the author's description of herself: "Totally idealistic, I was the quintessential student...With college, my life opened up more than I could have ever imagined: into art, and history, and philosophy, and argumentation, and statistics, and post-colonial theory. I began to understand my own spot of existence in relation to the history of ideas. I began to see, both scarily and comfortingly, that all I thought had been thought before. I began to see how studying the humanities illuminates humanitas or "what it means to be human." What it means to become human. The decisions and the responsibilities of becoming truly humane."

Carolyn Weber is a brilliant writer, not only because of her vast knowledge, but for her honesty, insight, and humor. I felt so inspired after reading it, and it made me think of my own faith journey and all the doubts and assurances I have had over the years. Weber nearly knocked me off my feet with this simple observation: " I now understand why the words conversation and conversion are evocative of each other, turning toward each other, yet separated merely by where you are "at." There have been many times that I have had deeply spiritual conversations with friends who don't believe in God or Jesus, and they will be resolute in their opposition, completely unwilling to accept certain answers for their questions of Why does God allow pain and suffering? Why do children die? If He's real, why doesn't He show up? How can I be a sinner when I haven't done anything that bad? How can I be expected to believe everything in the Bible? and the list goes on and on... Carolyn Weber was once on the other end, and she tells of how she slung these questions like arrows at the man who became her husband, and even though his answers never changed, her heart did overtime.

She learned that faith is not the opposite of reason, accepting Christ's gift of salvation isn't weakness, and that God is truly a loving, faithful father, unlike that one she grew up with. What amazing truth!

She never writes with an air of haughtiness or pride, but with pure confidence in the Gospel she now believes. Her story is honest, confessing all her previous mistakes and struggles, as well as all she faced while at Oxford. Even though it is set in such a idyllic place, her story is down-to-earth, easy to relate to, and captivating.

I can't say enough about it. Go read it!

Christmas spirit!

I am a movie buff. That's a bit of an understatement; I'm kind of a movie fanatic. I am one of those people who will go to a theater alone, but that could just be the introvert in me. I have this secret dream of becoming a screenwriter. The only bad thing about watching so many movies, and I only watch credible ones (you won't see American Pie or a horror flick on my shelf), is that I picture life as a movie. This can make things disappointing at times, not gonna lie. It makes me kind of live in a fantasy world. My friends will tell you I'm quite the movie quoter, and while they're impressed I'm a little bit ashamed. I'm ashamed because it's like I'm living vicariously. I've never been in love, I'm not a parent, I don't have special gifts, and I live in a world that is, for the most part, stable. So now it's the Christmas season and there are a lot of awful holiday movies out there- just turn on Lifetime or ABC Family. But Christmas movies don't make me feel ashamed, because Christmas at my house and just the spirit in general feels like a fantasy, but is real. It's magical, it's beautiful, am I being cliche? Yes, but it's Christmas so it's okay. Here's my list of Top 5 favorite holiday films:

1. Christmas Vacation

Best Christmas movie of all time, in my opinion. My family watches this every year and laugh at all the same parts. 















2. Elf

 "I painted a picture of a butterfly! I love you, I'll call you in five minutes."

"Dad I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it! You have elves working here too?"

It just doesn't get any better than Buddy the Elf.










3. It's a Wonderful Life

 If this movie doesn't make you cry, shame on you.











4. A Christmas Story

This movie made me scared of Santa Claus. And I have always wanted Ralphie's bunny pajamas. "Fra-gee-lay... Oh it must be Italian!"
"It's a special award!" A leg lamp is never a special reward.








5. Scrooged

Oh Bill Murray, he never ceases to disappoint. He definitely makes this movie, oh and watch out for the fairy with the toaster!

Wrapping up...and I don't mean presents

It's all becoming very surreal to me: this is my last semester of undergraduate classes. In a month I will be in a high school... with high schoolers... teaching... or at least trying to. Ah.

Where have the years gone? How can I step into a classroom full of High School Juniors and Seniors and teach them about sonnets, The Great Gastby, and research papers when I still feel like one of them? Yes I feel more mature in some ways, but I'm still scared to death to stand up in front of people! My face flushes, I speak rapidly, and I lose my train of thought. The one confidence I have is that I love literature.

All these years of preparation have brought me to this place, and I still feel like I'm about to walk on-stage after dozens of rehearsals, not knowing my lines. I guess my biggest fear is to not do things right, even though I believe students shouldn't only be focused on the "right answers." So why do I?

I've always loved being a student. I love to learn. I love to sit in a desk, waiting for what new knowledge a teacher or professor has to share and offer for the day. It makes me feel that each day is an accomplishment, even if I did nothing else significant. It makes me feel a part of something, and I love using these brilliant creative brains God gave us. I don't ever want to squander this gift. I'm just scared to get out of the desk.

It's hard to tell yourself: you can do this, you're ready, you've worked hard, God has gave you a passion. All I can think is: don't screw up, don't screw up, don't screw up. And as I reflect on this I'm realizing, all I'm thinking about here is me. How I will be perceived, my abilities as a teacher, my weaknesses, my knowledge and lack thereof. The whole reason I chose this path was not for me, but for the individuals sitting in those desks.

My dream is to be the teacher I loved and looked up to in high school. To be the English teacher that laughed at herself, made books come alive, showed every emotion she felt when reading a poem, and would knock on the table enthusiastically when a student made an insight. That teacher is one who is there entirely for the students, and her love for literature and passion for learning passed on to me. In a way, I am her legacy, and I want to honor her and all the people who have impacted me by being the best teacher I can be.

I'm realizing that fear is not always a bad thing, it's just how you choose to react to it and use it. I can let it cripple me, or empower me. I can let it taint my abilities and experience, or fuel them. I can give it to Christ, or attempt to carry it alone.

So this is my last week of classes, and next week comes finals. Then the joy and beauty of Christmas, and before I know it I'll be in the classroom. Here we go :)