Writing

Writing in college seems like a dream now. I remember hating it and procrastinating until the very last minute, but...why? It's easy now to look back at paper writing and think about how silly it was to stress over them. Who does the final outcome of that paper really effect? Me and only me. hmm. At the end you even get a little prize (or punishment) for your hard work.

Real life reports and papers on the other hand make me want to vomit. Now, the report doesn't reflect just me, it reflects the programs, the organization, and the people/clients you are serving. Now, not only do you get positive or negative feedback, but it could also determine whether someone loans you money for your business or invests in your non-profit. Being the retrospective person that I am, now I wish I had taken more time and effort to write my papers ahead of time and get feedback from mentors and professors. I wish that I had put more into those things so that the now wouldn't be so hard.

Writing actually used to be really enjoyable. When did it go from enjoyable to dreadful? I have no idea...

Just a thought to share...

"As a rule, when we are suffering, we are so focused on ourselves, we have no time for others."  -mother teresa

hope.

Life is what you make of it

I once read a quote in one of my high school classrooms that said, "Life is what you make of it." For me, high school was one of the lowest points in life. Seeing that quote really made me evaluate the decisions I was making that made life so unhappy for me at the time. Since that point I have continued to live my life by that quote. When things are going wrong or people get on my nerves, I always just change my perspective. Whether that means pushing things away or trying harder to see a different perspective, I usually end up more content with life after that. Until now.

I have been continually writing and thinking about this search for joy. And I am continually trying to make life what I want it to be. There are two problems with this. One small thing being that I don't know what I want my life to look like. I had always pictured myself living a very nice, comfortable life until about 2-3 years ago. Now, while I think that is a great option, I don't know if I could live in the kind of comfort I have always thought of when others don't have the same options. But that's a whole other blog. :)

The biggest problem that is turning up with that quote is the word, "you." I am so focused on what I am making of my life that there is no room for what others in my communities or, most importantly, what God wants to make of my life. I really hate being cheesy and cliche about faith and those kinds of things. However, in this case, I really feel inadequate to change my view of what life is right now to me. I need help, and I can't keep turning to myself or even just my friends. For me, there is something greater and too often I fail to see that.

So maybe life is not what you make of it, it is what God makes of it? ...Or better yet, what you and Him make of it together. oh that mix of free will and predestination. (Now that is the beginning of another blog if I ever saw one...)

Good night!

Combining Loves to Create Joy

The title of this blog basically says it all. I'm trying to work on taking things that I love or am good at and combining it with my job (which is still not a love but we're getting there). I practiced that today and it turned out well. I can't wait to get more creative and explore ways to make life more enjoyable in general. That will be nice. :) It may involve being less involved in some areas of life and more involved with others. I don't know how I feel about that yet, but we'll see how it goes.

Gong Hai Fat Choy!

Happy Chinese New Year!

Confidence.

What I am practicing now is confidence. I realize that when my voice wavers for even a split second, the kids are able to pick up on that. It's hard for me because I've been trying to step back from being over confident about things for awhile now. It's going to take a lot of practice but it's finally working.