tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1450273604798497712023-11-15T08:16:49.344-08:00bloom where you're plantedLindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-57087249741970596482010-04-05T11:35:00.001-07:002010-04-05T11:35:51.441-07:00check itI've moved! Join me please at<br /><br />http://lindseyvz.wordpress.com/<br /><br /><br /><br />Love and muffins.Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-86873963374538956722009-08-29T14:57:00.000-07:002010-01-31T14:58:39.096-08:00And all manner of things shall be well.<span style="font-size:85%;">Ellllooooo lovely people. I sincerely hope that this post finds everyone having a genuinely joyful day. I have a lot of words and feelings in me, but have seriously started and restarted this entry six times already, so I'm just going to spin a few thoughts that I really want you all to know, underlying all the while that even know I'm an awkward blog greeter, there is never not a huge relief when one is known. A here we go, a here we go now.<br /><br />Tomorrow will my third day ever of teaching, and I find myself in a very interesting pattern of activities and emotions, if you will. For contextual purposes, I will say that the first week of most Special Education teachers' school years are spent meeting and diagnosing kids, meeting with their general education teachers, and then trying to work out a schedule, based on what the kid needs to learn much, and so on and so forth. All of that to say that although I've been Ms. VZ for two whole days, my interactions with kids, and teaching in general is far less than I would have hoped, so I might be a rare case for a first year teacher, in that I am craving something to work hard for and get sweaty palms over- because I see my peers on their feet, teaching like their hair's on fire all day, and I am reading case studies and histories of kids. Really interesting kids, but you get the idea. I say this all the while knowing that come Monday, this will all change I really hope, because there is so much to do, and thus far, I can confidently say that I am blown away by the fact that I get paid to do this. There are many eternal things in this world, to be sure, but teaching in any medium, and the personal investment that comes from that, is a consistently humbling and overwhelmingly thankful feeling.<br /><br />Having training end, Skotti come to Gallup, being home, and moving in for reals here, has been a collage, if you will, of being provided exactly what was needed, but what I had no idea was needed. Skotti, you were such a refreshing presence to have here, and having you know what the astroturf in my backyard feels like has subconsciously given me the assurance that Gallup does not have to be a forgotten place unless I make it that way. I'm learning little by little to celebrate, with every facial expression I have, the small victories, like the fact that the skies here are absolutely massive, or that I look and speak and act very differently from most of my community. And the fact that My housemates are good people, and inch by inch, real conversations are taking place amidst house scream-venting fests and Gilmore Girls nights; so in so many areas, I couldn't ask for anything more.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> Upon receiving our diplomas, we departed to save the world before we turned 24. This concept has been spoken upon and emphasized over and over in all great literature and sermons, but I still don't know what it looks like to be patient. I gave myself about 2 hours to make Gallup feel like home and make teaching an easy endeavor, and it's just another example of the myriad of facets of my character that are being incredibly humbled and brought into the bright New Mexican light- as relocating seems to do, I suppose.<br /><br />You all inspire and fill me with things only genuine friends can fill anyone with, and those words are no less sincere than they were when we were singing our undying love to Taylor Swift's Romeo in the all-time favorite ballad. Even amid the silences, all my prayers and thoughts are being shot toward you.<br /><br />Peace like a river,<br />Lindsey</span>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-43283368037016798202009-05-30T19:00:00.000-07:002009-05-31T13:21:25.252-07:00In the jingle-jangle morning, I'll come following you.<span style="font-size:85%;">This small, yet significant attempt to share myself with the world is currently going out to a few very specific people who deserve much more than a blog post from me. There is a poem by Hafiz that goes like "After all this time, the sun doesn't say to the earth 'you owe me'. Look at what happens with a love like that-it lights the whole world". That sentiment expresses a love so sincere and selfless that it can only happen with family; and true family might have been there from the beginning, watching you shoot out of your Mom, or maybe family has been there since whenever you were lucky enough to find them, and have been watching you struggle, find the funny, learn, be rejected, realize hope, and all the while, drinking white wine by the jug because that is how classy ladies do.<br /><br />I have been adventuring and experimenting and reading and listening for years partly in search of a better understanding of who I was made to be, and what that person can do for this world. Excursions of the Middle Eastern persuasion have left me with an unparalleled appreciation for falafel (and a whole lot more, let's be honest), but the past 6 months of living with people who are so much more to me than just housemates have been absolutely incredible for my development and understanding of myself, that I might as well have been locked in a house with some of the most interesting and caring people on earth who care for me equally as passionatly.<br /><br />When I look back on my last two quarters of college, after getting back from Israel, I would say that they were purposefully spent securing a job for next year, learning as much as humanly possible from education inside the walls and inside relationships, and every available moment with people who remind me so much of God that sometimes I explode with affection. None of those activities were things of productive significance, such as starting a non-profit, or working relentlessly on the behalf of others; and although I do not want the rest of my life to be as such, I am very thankful for the gift that I was given to simply be for a little while. That being said, it is difficult for me to believe my wonderful housemates whenever they express admiration, because the truth is that I feel like I've taken a bit of a hiatus from striving since I have lived with them, which is where most appreciation in our lives are rooted.<br /><br />I have been loved unconditionally, not in spite of my lack of productivity, but in lieu of it. Perhaps those moments of shooting the shit in the kitchen are far more eternal and holy than bringing down "the man" in one single swoop, though that is completely legitimate as well. It's entirely possible that learning how to accept love when I truly feel as though it is undeserved is the sole reason why any of us, not just myself, are here. And maybe that's the answer to the second part of that question, what can we possibly due for the world?<br /><br />I step out into a new frontier of Land of Enchantment: New Mexico with the full confidence that I am appreciated and taken care of just because I exist. It is only with that confidence that I can be selfless for the people who need me to be selfless, and that, my dear friends, is the most beautiful cycle of all. Your companionship is enough for me to believe that God, or the universe, or breath, or being, or anything at all, is a good thing. This collective gives me hope as bright as the sun that community of that splendor can happen again, and will only add to the continuing investment and adoration that exists in this moment. I sincerely agape (what's up, greek roots?!) you all.<br /></span>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-2321678511610277132009-03-01T11:25:00.000-08:002009-03-01T12:04:25.227-08:00wakeful dreams.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">There is no shortage of events or attitudes in this world that can impart extreme pessimism and hopelessness in the best of us, with the greatest of ease. Last night I read an article about women in Haiti that due to there literally being no food available to most of the population, making cookies out of dirt and leaves to sell to their clients. Right now there is half-eaten food being tossed all over my house. I know that I don't have to spell out the dire need that so much of our world is in to anyone, I know that it is common knowledge that children are dying from completely preventable causes, but I find that when huge statistics are thrown out, the reality of the situation, even the urgency of the situation, loses its effectiveness on me because I can't imagine 50 million of anything.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Offering individual services are absolutely beneficial, and my hat goes off to anyone who is signing up to look the worst of the worst in the face and offer something, anything, whether it's a hard day's work, just sitting with someone who is grieving, or anything in between. My hat goes off especially to those, who even though they're not in the optimistic bubble of higher education, keep a youthful energy and dream about them that one would think would have no choice but to fade with time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">All of this to say that what I saw in the last week, competing in the Global Social Entrepreneurship Competition at UW, blew me out of the water, and although those minds are a fraction of the greater population, they are strong and brave and will prevail. Business plans that consisted of feeding India's poor with full meals that only cost the consumer 10 cents, using SMS technology in West Africa to identify the 33% of counterfeit drugs that are killing people every day, or trying to send children in Ghana to secondary school so that they can become our future's leaders and teachers and thinkers...don't need a competition to give validity to their mission, and have the every confidence of all who listened to them, even for a minute, that they will succeed. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">There are a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot of ways to allow light to shine through in this existence, and on this particular morning, I'm choosing to not give so much credit to the greed and hatred and loneliness that causes so much strife. Maybe that can be for tomorrow. Maybe not.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Lindsey</span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-38829752636016631842009-01-26T22:30:00.000-08:002009-01-26T22:48:49.858-08:00study break.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">this could be my favorite. check it.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Body and Soul</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">In the morning<br />After taking cold shower<br />---what a mistake---<br />I look at the mirror.<br /><br />There, a funny guy,<br />Grey hair, white beard, wrinkled skin,<br />---what a pity---<br />Poor, dirty, old man!<br />He is not me, absolutely not.<br /><br />Land and life<br />Fishing in the ocean<br />Sleeping in the desert with stars<br />Building a shelter in mountains<br />Farming the ancient way<br />Singing with coyotes<br />Singing against nuclear war---<br />I'll never be tired of life.<br />Now I'm seventeen years old,<br />Very charming young man.<br /><br />I sit down quietly in lotus position,<br />Meditating, meditating for nothing.<br />Suddenly a voice comes to me:<br /> "To stay young,<br /> To save the world,<br /> Break the mirror."<br />~Nanao Sakaki<br /><br /><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Truly believing that really could make all the difference. Word?</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-90570119179810639982009-01-12T01:24:00.000-08:002009-01-15T12:42:38.485-08:00Channeling R. Kelley!<span style="font-size:85%;">Alright guys, real talk coming at 'ya from the corner of my new bedroom in the lovely grey hue of Seattle. First off, I hope everyone has found 2009 to be an incredible year thus far. I know that personally I never truly thought this year would come, only because we are the "class of '09" and the likelihood of graduation after my marathon changing of majors was bleak, at best. But alas, this past week has been an absolute joy, and I feel more than a little bit compelled to do what I can to reflect and share.<br /><br />I must admit (and I feel a short novel coming on, so prepare those reading glasses!) that especially toward the end of my time in Israel, I was very much looking forward to coming home, both to California and Seattle. Now, I honestly do try my best in all situations to be completely present, and though I find it immensely challenging to be fully successful, I was disappointed in myself for anticipating picking up these relationships so much. Not to say that the experience in Israel was lost necessarily, but I suppose that a huge thing that I learned there was that it is not an unspecial thing to find people who love, accept, and inspire you for exactly who you are; and those interactions and adventures and conversations are far too important to let go by the wayside anymore than that allotted time.<br /><br />Since coming back to the 206 last Tuesday, it has been a whirlwind of the most fun kind. The public screams and completely genuine long embraces have made every time I leave my house an enjoyable one. To be completely honest, few times in my life have I felt such exuberance to see people that I think are the cat's meow anyway, and few times have I felt so appreciated. This isn't a testament to myself by any means and I'm sorry if it sounds like that, but it's so much a tribute to the kinds of people that I've been fortunate enough to call my friends.<br /><br />Which leads me to the next thing that's really been on my brain lately. The last time that I went abroad, I went into it being prepared to be changed by my surroundings, the new community, the new found solitude that travel provides, etc. And, indeed, I came back believing different beliefs, valuing different values, changing another major, and turning my focus socially, academically, geographically, and spiritually upside down. Although I wouldn't have admitted this before that excursion occured, my life needed certain changes to be able to become the kind of person who I wanted to become, and that trip sticks out in my mind as one of the most positive experiences I have ever had the fortune of having. When preparing for J-ru, I went under the impression that anything and everything foreign would show me something new that I needed to fix, and for that reason, it would be much harder to adjust to the home life, as the last time had shown me.<br /><br />I know there are facets of myself that underwent transformation during those 5 months, and I know that I am sort of a change junkie (this can be seen if one were to witness the change of hair colors that my poor strands have endured), so I was ready and willing to look my crap in the face and deal more effectively with it. This absolutely happened, but what I've seen since being back is that while I'm not a perfect Peggy, as it would take 10 seconds to figure out, living more into who I am is what real maturity looks like. It's not about picking up the art of glass sculpting and dying my hair rainbow, and getting tatoos on my forehead, unless I feel like that's the next step. Which, I'm pretty sure, isn't. But I will never say never.<br /><br />Maybe it's ok that it's been easier to adjust to home more than it was before, and maybe it's ok that I can't see all the changes yet. Although exploration is good and valuable, I do not adore my friends because they keep revising themselves, I adore them because they give themselves the grace to keep growing when growing should occur, and enjoying their whole selves all the while. If every month saw a radical transformation, I would have to learn them all over again- and perhaps we're finally at the age where our senses of self are developed. I surely hope it's not over, as I don't want to be done learning or seeing, but this could be a solid foundation, and in a way, it's a really good feeling to know that that identity was never worth letting go of, even there.<br /><br />You shiver my timbers and I cherish you very much.<br /><br />Lindsey VeeeeeZeeee<br /></span>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-5763259157406061652008-09-23T05:03:00.000-07:002010-01-31T15:01:36.205-08:00We might well be limitless.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">College is so amazing because there are so few other places where optimism meets skill and actual belief and support and ideas that get thrown around, with for the most part, no real restraint as to whether or not "right" or "wrong" even apply. Personally, I have responded to this freedom with not being able to decide what to study and changing majors 48 times before the right one fell into my lap. I love that the option of becoming an astronaut is still on the table, even though I get dizzy and nauseous every time I think about space, it's still nice to have the option. Even more than that, I like that the most interesting people I know have ideas of what their futures hold but are not married to them; and that that sentiment can be found in young 20 somethings who are more than allowed to explore, as well as 50 somethings, who should also be given that same right as well...because there is something groundbreaking in living a life that is as much ruled by imagination as it is anything else.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I have met so many people here who are far older than I, one in particular, and hearing about their lives has turned into an exciting event, because it goes to show that living as a nomad, or getting married in a field with frolicking deer, or deciding to go back to school at age 45, or becoming a tambourine phenomenon is not out of the question...for anyone. I realize that is a bold statement, as there are financial burdens, family commitments, and alternative dreams that fly in the face of those particular life achievements...but my point is that I think we get caught up too often in thinking that the ideal way of life consists of a few major events, we can all name them, and they happen in a particular order, and they hardly differ from our neighbors. Not gonna lie, some of those are very attractive to me, and by no means should that way of life be under appreciated, because a life well lived takes many forms. But that's just it, in the spirit of this time in our lives when literally we can sit in the quad and believe with the rawest of convictions that we are capable to grow up to be who we want to be (and this pertains to character as much as vocation), I find it incredibly exciting and inspiring to remember that we have this one life. That's it, so a dream gone unexplored is a bigger waste than a jar of nutella going uneaten. Perhaps that exploring is as small as taking a class and not enjoying it as much as you thought you might, or maybe it's working for 15 years, fighting the good fight, and failing. However, as Teddy Roosevelt said, "if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br />I would hope that beneath every external pressure to believe or do otherwise, there would be within everyone the belief that there is a means and a way to do the impossible, because there is a reason those desires are there, and, dare I say, crazier things have happened. The things that humans are capable of is not something to take for granted.<br /><br />Go team,<br />Lindsey</span><br /></span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-52841298265915204512008-08-26T23:32:00.000-07:002010-01-31T15:02:55.315-08:00Be here now.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><div>~If our friendship depends on things like space and time, when we've finally solved the mystery of space and time, then we've destroyed our own brotherhood! But take away space, and all we have is "here". Take away time, and all we have left is "now". And in the midst of "here and now", don't you think we might see each other once or twice?~ (Antoine St. Exupery)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The scenario: the time between you turn off the lights to go to bed, and the moment that you actually fall asleep. For me, it spans from probably 10 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on the caffeine intake, and previous events of the day. But all to often, what I turn to is a "happy place", we've all heard that phrase before, some moment of my existence whose circumstances and feelings associated with them were happier than the ones that are currently, in the here and now, on my mind. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">The only real flaw of living in a set place for a long period of time, at least in my opinion, is that it is incredibly difficult, and I'm not sure entirely impossible to not fall into a pattern. Not only does that pose a risk of stunting growth, but, along with that, it makes it difficult to see where, on the life scale, you have sold yourself short. Does that even make sense? No, no it does not. In other words, making something other than the greater hope for mankind my "happy place" means that on a semi-nightly basis, I turn my energies (granted, they are few by the end of the day) toward something in my past, and in essence, saying that I wish I was back there again because today did not top it. Now, I've been teased since high school(thanks Nic!) about the anxiety that I sometimes get about the future, and the big hoohah joke (that's right, hoohah!) was that I wasn't living in the moment, and everyone else magically was.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">The fact is that my life is incredibly tame compared to what this existence can throw our way, and I would imagine that there are plenty who would give anything to go back to those good old college days when food plans were available, or when their parents were alive, or when they didn't feel useless, or when they had the love of another person. "Moving on" is an interesting pair or words to toss around, because it demands that we recognize the past for what it was, act accordingly, and then completely forget about it.<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Even in such an awesome place and experience such as the one I am living, and trying to live as hugely as possible; I find myself, in those situations when comfort from home is needed, I turn my thoughts toward a relationship or experience that I know either Seattle or California brings me. I, quite frankly, have no excuse, and will try from now on to be fully and completely and wholeheartedly in Israel. One of my favorite sayings of Confucious is "Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart." Don't leave it with your friends or favorite water front, or even family. Your presence in those places and hearts is there whether or not you turn to them for a quick escape from discomfort or not. But if you opt to feel the tough things with as much absorption and acceptance and grace as you feel those mountain top moments, it will give you a perspective and strength that is incredibly useful and conducive toward helping and contributing whenever the need may present itself. Every chance we take not to run away assures that those inevitably tough areas of life that demand the strength of the human spirit to rise infinitely higher will not paralyze with fear, even if the difference is miniscule, it matters.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">I hope you all are well living the good life with the remaining summer that is among us. Rock on, croutons.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Lindsey</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-44581361774739555592008-08-16T12:43:00.000-07:002009-03-08T10:57:39.269-07:00Emiliiooo<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">I grew up a child of the 90's, and that inevitably meant that T.G.I.F. television, Full House, the Disney Channel, and classic movies that featured the one and only Emilio Estevez were, sad or not, comfort experiences whose theme songs I can still recite on command and whose actors I most definitely crushed on once or twice. Hello, John Stamos. I also, and this is a lot of information, but if we're not honest, there's not a lot left, have always desperately wanted to be a child actor on one of those programs who got that awesome profile shot with their name under it accompanied with a very upbeat theme song about family values. At this point in my life, I couldn't be more thankful that a) I didn't have the talent to do that, as my cuteness was more because I had purple glasses and a few speech impediments, not because I was witty and b) My parents caught onto that, and never entered me into anything that resembled a talent competition.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Now, it's been a whole 10 days since I've had the joyful encounter of watching Mr. Feeny rock the classroom, but one of the things that always drew me to entertainment of wholesomeness is because at the end of each episode, there is always a redeeming moment, one where everything works out for the best, people hug or kiss, inspirational music plays, and you end the show believing that life like that. You all know what I'm talking about, and they get me EVERY time even though I'd like to think that I've changed since 4th grade. Regardless, the end-of-movie victory scenes in all three Mighty Ducks movies give me chills like an eskimo. When Charlie hugs Coach Bombay because he gave it his all and beat Iceland, or made his mom proud, or whatever, there is something about the underdog having the last say that is moving.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">That was a very long explanation as to why what I saw today was particularly moving, and I'm hesitant to even write about such a topic because it's not my style to enter into this conversation unless both parties are ready and willing. But eff that, because while wandering in the Old City today, some friends and I stumbled upon the Holy Sepulchre, which I've been wanting to see, but didn't expect to find today at all. The Holy Sepulchre is a huge church built in 1149 that houses the site of Jesus' crucifixion, anointing, burial, and first resurrection sighting. It's a rather large labyrinth of chapels all dedicated to different points in time and people who played a part in that story, and they have original remnants of the slab or rock where He was anointed, the hole in the ground where the cross was nailed, the rock that held it up, etc, etc. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">The people who I was with had no particular emotional attachment to this, so it was both understanding and uncomfortable that it was hard for me to hold it together as I was wandering through this place, because what kept hitting me over and over again was the victory story that these very real remnants tell humankind. What I find the most compelling about Christian faith is the redemption aspect...that it's never over. The point of the cross is that just when you think all hope is lost, and mankind really is as doomed as it feels, God sprouts some green through the concrete and we find that the game's not over, and the hope that we deem way too good to be true, actually exists, and perhaps the toughest thing to accept is how good of an offer that really is. I didn't mean for that to get preachy, by any means, but I'm convinced that it's more of a universal feeling and longing than a Christian label can bring across. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Christianity has been tainted and the church has made horrible mistakes, and absolutely still continues to not live up to the mission the God that we claim so fervently, or in some cases, as quietly as possible, to believe in. I believe that the way of peace and love and forgiveness and service that Jesus taught is the best way to live, but there aren't a lot of labels besides Christian that fit that description, but I definitely struggle with wanting to identify with Him versus wanting to identify with an institution that on many fronts, I don't agree with, and I don't think is portraying the gospel. The thing about today though, and perhaps about being in Jerusalem in general, is that it's just the Man right there, no messed up rules or expectations or stigmas to twist the message. Faith is a journey of valleys and plateaus, of that I am sure, but I'm both ecstatic and relieved to find that this story of love winning in the end topples most of my doubts. I know that's not the case for everyone, and I think that's absolutely legitimate and understandable. Perhaps it's just me being a sap, or perhaps it's more of a uniform core feeling than I realize, but the concept of the story never being completely finished, and that there's always something you can have up your sleeve to win that big game is one of the greatest truths I have to hold onto. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Word,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Lindsey</span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-12947566905770974362008-08-13T04:18:00.000-07:002008-12-10T12:45:55.825-08:00(Is)REAL TALK<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'll keep this short and sweet for now, since I have to bounce in a few. This blog comes from the lovely land of Israel, where the skies are blue, the historical sites are numerous, and the falafel is BOMB. And I'm officially eliminating that word from my colloquial vocabulary. eeeeek</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">My time here has, already, forced me to grow in places I didn't know demanded growth, let alone, existed. I've met some really neat people, a few who I think are soul mates, seen the essentials, with the full intention of going back 34 more times, visited the Western Wall and the Old City, and learned the alphabet, geography, greetings, time, and food in Hebrew. Nutsos!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At the risk of sounding like a white, naive 22 year old, the middle east never ceases to fascinate me with all of the contradictions that can literally be found in every crevice. Amidst all of that, however, is this incredible community who seem to cling to this ground, and they live their lives unabashedly willing to face whatever terror comes their way. Mind you, I went into this with the very biased perspective that Israel is wrong on almost every front. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, but the conversations and experiences that have happened only in a short week have me all bumfuzzled. All I can articulately say, at this point, is that existence in this place is not the way that anyone is meant to live, by any means, and it is both heart breaking and understandable and universal, and it's amazing that it's felt from the sidewalks to the children to the classroom.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">More later, I gotta go haggle with my people. Peeeeaaaccceeee</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lindsey</span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-22776723234269637342008-08-03T19:03:00.000-07:002008-12-10T12:45:55.826-08:00Hey Nic, put down your iphone. No? Ok.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The scenario: Listening to The Wedding Singer's signature ballad in Nic's zen apartment located in beautiful NYC, digesting Dominos, hours away from the Holy Land and all that will bring about with it, and reveling in the fact that this afternoon I was mere feet away from Bradley Whitford, West Wing star. Holy shit?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;">I'll keep this brief because more important things like Edward Scissorhands on DVR is calling my name...but I find myself ridiculously and incredibly grateful for people who have known you since awkward fashion malfunctions, drooling smoothie before the morning even really begins, and thinking that massaging one's stomach after a big meal helps with digestion. Relationships have changed and morphed over the last 3ish years, and it's hard for me to remember what it felt like to spend all my nights with people who I now speak to every few weeks or so. I know that it was glorious and comfortable and that it paved the way for moments like this weekend, when all of the stupid/raw/Abigail Vanzantenfeudenheiserkennolyn characteristics were let loose, and I didn't make one attempt to cover them up. I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that it with old friends that one can afford to be stupid with. Get your dangling prepositions right, Oscar. I jest.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;">No but really, moving forward with my life with a few life-long friends in my pocket and a speed dial phone call away when an African-American Albino walks by, or when I become a nervous pooper and need a familiar voice to walk me through it in the stalls is a gift in and of itself. Good people, good people. There are few things more precious than those who you can pick it right back up with after months of little contact, and it's not because we haven't moved on, and it's not because we haven't changed, but it's because enough time was spent to get to know those unchangeable, essential parts of each other that no new clique or location or job can change. I'm becoming a mushy Maggie at a ridiculously fast rate right now, but I care not. If I ever become famous for my reflexes or impressions of flight attendants, (because that's all I know how to do. Ever.) I know that I will become instantly grounded when trips like this happen, and souls that have been there since forever show up. I'm so thankful that college hasn't changed these encounters that I cherish so dearly, and I'm so thankful for the confidence that they instill, so that taking big leaps become more than just a little possible, because of that assurance of a nervous pooper rescue. I love you all.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;">Lindsey</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-60217034212602184022008-07-25T22:58:00.000-07:002009-03-08T10:58:57.653-07:00This isn't Nam, this is bowling. THERE ARE RULES!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Hey kids.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Yesterday circa 1 pm, Brett and I drove the dependable CRV down the ever scenic 1-5 highway and started the long journey forward, eventually landing in NYC and Jerusalem. All I can say after these past few weeks of running around like a squirrel surrounded by walnuts is that I am incredibly glad that I'm only leaving the 206 for sixish months. I had it in my head that the departure was far more permanent and life-changing before about a week ago, when I realized that leaving Norcal for Seattle to go to college was a far more difficult transition...and I lived. Go figure.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Geography has played a semi-huge role in my life, especially since high school. Someone recently told me that oldest children most often use distance as a means to differentiate themselves from their family, i.e. grow up. Since moving to Seattle, spending some time in India, Singapore, and Turkey, being about to head to Israel, and making locations a large part of my decision making process for whatever the next year shall bring...leads me to believe that this "oldest child rule" applies to me as well. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">I'm both sensible and old enough to know in my head that amazing people can be found anywhere one points to on a map (except North Dakota. I'm just saying). Friends who fill souls aren't just stationed in Seattle, but there is something to be said for a certain location attracting certain types of people. I love and belong way too much to the West Coast stereotype to ever want to stray from it for too long, unless it was New York or Paris. Real talk. I have uber amounts of respect for people who truly live out this belief, however. Because it's still tough to willingly put one's self in a position of pure aloneness with no time table as to when that might change; and since graduation season has come and is still going, people are going through this struggle all around. Good for anyone who thinks that being new is a humbling enough experience that it deserves to be retried every so often, and good for anyone who recognizes the vulnerability and uncertainty that comes with that situation, so you lend out a hand to that new girl/guy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">It's an amazingly good thing that I'm not the only one in charge of deciding where to live or go. I would be paralyzed with indecision that I'd probably end up living on a boat, without any real knowledge of how to maintain/steer/start the ignition on a boat, so I'd sit in Lake Union and look at a map, get sea sick, drink tang, sell the boat, and stay on someone's couch cause Seattle friends are cooler than glaciers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">I shall be keeping this blog and emailing whilst in the Holy Land, and would love to hear from any and everyone. I hope that all of your summers are full of picnics and sun and campouts, or at least some of your favorite activities, if those don't fit the description. Much love.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Lindsey</span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-32924893482301703302008-06-19T00:02:00.000-07:002008-12-10T12:45:55.827-08:00Take it away, Jack<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In his short essay "Essentials of Spontaneous Prose", Kerouac wrote: "Not 'selectivity' of expression but following free deviation (association) of mind into limitless blow-on-subject seas of thoughts, swimming in sea of English with no discipline other than rhythms of rhetorical exhalation and expostulated statement, like a fist coming down on a table with each complete utterance, bang!...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Never afterthink to 'improve' or defray impressions...the best writing is always the most painful personal wrung-out tossed from cradle-warm protective mind."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.................................................................................................</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I tend to write exactly like I talk, which has an offbeat rhythm anyway; and that added to the fact that a whole four and a half people have ever even looked at this blog make me feel confident in letting a stream of consciousness flow without even previewing what I wrote before "publishing" these bursts of Lindsey for the world.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Perspective has been on my mind a lot lately. To an extent, we walk around each day with a certain, somewhat fixed perspective. That pertains to life, how we treat people, how we treat ourselves, what we choose to get anxious about, etc. My perspective, like most, is usually that this day is all I have right now, and there are things that I have to get done, or else, God forbid, I'll let someone else down. College students, I've realized, have this insane way of always being really busy, and this applies equally to people who work part-time, go to school full-time, and have some other extra-curricular going on as it does to the person who goes to school and volunteers sometimes, and the rest of the time, is slowly doing homework, or wandering, or just hanging out, as kids our age are allowed to do.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When I am reminded, and it happens maybe once a week, that this life isn't all there is, I am usually brought to my knees in one or the other. The concept of heaven aside, I absolutely believe that this existence is a beautiful, heart broken, vulnerable, joyous, and grief stricken and, that most of all, it matters. How we treat others, how we contribute one small verse to the greater play and bring about the tiniest bit of green in a world gone horribly wrong, yet still streaked with love; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">something worth worrying about and keeping in perspective. And those manifest themselves in small acts, sure, but the bigger picture is always enough of a push to go an extra mile or two.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Travel. Art. Talking. Walking around. Taking out the ear phones. Reading. Listening. All of these are ways of engaging in a culture whose life blood seems to be isolation. As a friend of mine said not that long ago, people really do want to talk about how their day is going, or what they are thinking of or worried about, or what they are thankful for that morning. You're probably not the only one. I'm definitely not the only one. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Anytime that someone can assure me that I'm not the only person on this planet who feels the way I do when I talk about my aspirations for the future, and how I am worried about the degree of respect that will follow, a huge weight is lifted off of my shoulders. Perspective is gained when engagement happens, and I feel like all of those mechanisms toward reaching that end goal (calling out to something bigger, talking to each other, observing...) are so insanely human that it's absolutely ridiculous to pretend that it's not. At the end of the day, or this amazing life, if I have not made the sincere effort to step into someone else's shoes and engage to the point that our souls are capable, then I'm not sure that a lot of the other stuff will matter. Religious conviction (toxic?) aside, engagement with fellow humans who all giggle when Christopher Walken is in a hot tub, cry during weddings, and have a secret fetish for funfetti cake as well...is the point. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'm whelmed over the brim, not gonna lie. Blog is a funny word. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lindsey</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-14635715286348506252008-06-08T02:28:00.000-07:002008-12-10T12:45:55.827-08:00You crazy...I like you, but you so crazy.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Truly, wholly, unabashedly enjoying one's self for its entirety might be one of the top 10 most inherently difficult tasks, next to not having a full blown dance party when Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" comes on the speaker. It's downright impossible. My main man, John Mayer, recently proposed one of many solutions to solving the problem of self-consciousness that is killing our generation, one untainted heart at a time; and that solution was to "enjoy yourself, the talents and liabilities alike". You go, JM.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Perhaps it's generational self-deprecation, and perhaps it's an irrational fear of becoming a flaming narcissist, but I seriously doubt that I am alone in finding it difficult to enjoy both what I am thankful for the qualities that I proudly wear, but also the aspects that I would give my first born child to not have anyone discover. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">These past few weekends have been big theatre weekends for me, mostly because a lot of shows that my friends are in have been going up, so I definitely want to support them, but also it's a great way to forget about this weather for a bit. To be perfectly honest, after a year of removing myself entirely from the world of auditions, selling yourself constantly, and rejection mixed with awesome community; it's more than a little refreshing to be in that environment again, though I'm glad it was only for a bit. Unlike in previous years, I have been accompanied with friends who have never particularly enjoyed being around theatre kids (crazy, I know); and their reactions have been eye opening. The typical drama kid is mostly likely the loudest/most outrageous in the room, and when a bunch of them get together, then it's just pandemonium, unless you speak that language. When my friends pointed out these quirks and how they didn't think that drama kids would fare well in other "social circles", it immediately made me incredibly grateful for the institution of theatre, because it gives people who have always been told that they were "too much" a place to go.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That's pretty amazing, and there is a reason why actors get so close to each other so quickly. We all have those characteristics that some 3rd grade tool bag pointed out to us on the tire swing, or maybe a sibling, or perhaps even parent, that we couldn't quite shake off because the truth of it sank deeper than our defense mechanisms. And it's not even one, but several of those traits that develop as we grow and fall and get back up again. So perhaps people whose volume of voice is somewhat unacceptable in most social situations have a haven, but what about the people who don't have the desire or the place to celebrate their shyness or inability to be expressive, or "overly" emotional sides? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We don't want to make the people around us uncomfortable, or God forbid, become vulnerable around anyone, so we cover up that part of us which we deem not worth celebrating with enough muster that would effectively move mountains, if only the efforts were redirected. What if Marianne Williamson was right in stating that liberating ourselves from our own fear automatically gives others the right to do the same? I understand that in middle school and high school, image was everything, and that leaves no room for flaws. I even can understand that college can be the same, if not more intense when it comes to building a "cool" image. But at what point are we going to stop making excuses for not wearing ourselves on our sleeves, and instead, celebrate wholeness. Whomever has the courage to do this first will most surely give way to a new kind of revolution; one where beauty can be seen in and on all, because brokenness is just as important, if not more so, in paving the way for perfection to redeem.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Obviously I'm the 293,329,328th person to speculate on this incredibly dynamic aspect of the human condition, but it it surely worth discussing again. Oh, and I'm sorry about the poor use of commas in the previous paragraphs, props if you made it through without cringing at my 7th grade grammar skillzzzz. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Peace like a river,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lindsey</span></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-145027360479849771.post-29791211931338389762008-06-01T21:48:00.000-07:002008-12-10T12:45:55.828-08:00sunday, june 1. enjoy it, because it's the only one you'll ever get.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I've been waiting to get this off my chest for a while now. Hello opportunity!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Not too long ago, whilst reading and sipping liquid life in Tully's, a nice looking man sitting across from me asked me if I would like to co-lead a cult with him. It was a ripe 7 am, and I still was unclear as to where I was, so as a disclaimer, this all happened in a different state of consciousness than normal.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> My first impression, of course, was flattery, and I proceeded to ask him what the premise of this cult was, etc. Of course I understand the stigma that comes with such a word, so my second thought was that if this thing was going to go through, we should probably call it a "friend group" or "fun with meadows", because I could go without the judgment from my loved ones, quite honestly. At the time, I was feeling a little inept at life. It happens from time to time, and I certainly hope I'm not alone on that one, and I saw it as rocking that someone thought I had what it takes to convince a large community of people that my way of life is the best way of life. The foundational belief of the cult, he said, was that it was about brotherhood. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Not bad so far. However, at this point during the conversation, I had woken up a little bit more, realized what I was frighteningly close to committing to, and gracefully exited the conversation, but of course not without wishing him the best of luck.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have a few very rare and distinct people in my life who would do anything for not only their loved ones, but literally anyone. If someone is having trouble carrying groceries or looks like they might need someone to talk to, my friends step in without wondering who might be watching them. I recently read a passage in my karma book that said to "do every act of kindness that pops into your head for a whole week." Perhaps you know what I'm talking about, those things that we see as an immediate need, but because there is no accountability there, we are comforted by knowing that </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">eventually </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">that need will be met, so we can stay on our butts. I'm going to try this experiment and see what the benefits look like, but already I can imagine that transformation on all sides, perhaps small, will occur. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I don't know, I get overwhelmed when I think of how much there is still left to do. Again, these are toilet epiphanies, but if we're not going to solve world hunger, we can at least plant a garden or visit someone in the hospital. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Go team.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-Lindsey </span></div></div>Lindsey Van Zantenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06844003148712991631noreply@blogger.com2