Vocation Is

Vocation is a scary word.  I don’t think I ever heard it until orientation during my freshman year of college, and then suddenly, we were bombarded with questions such as, “Who am I?”  “Where am I going?”  “Why am I here?”  I mostly shrugged them off.  It was clear to me that I was Amanda Weber, going to classes to learn about stuff.

Since that day, now 5 years ago, I have heard “vocation” defined and redefined, torn apart and jumbled back together in more ways than I knew were possible.  One such voice said that vocation is where your greatest gifts meet the world’s greatest needs.  She said that rather than being selfish or completely selfless, vocation was finding self among others.  Perhaps my favorite explanation of vocation comes from Jerry Johnson – one of my college supervisors – who said that vocation is “finding a better job.”  You get a job, he said, you figure out what you like and don’t like about it, and then you find a better job.  The process never stops – vocation is perhaps just as essential to your every day as brushing your teeth.

About a month ago, I had the opportunity to attend a retreat in Minneapolis through the Volunteers Exploring Vocation (VEV) program of the Fund for Theological Education (FTE).  Not only did this present me with a lot of intimidating acronyms, but the retreat also provided the time and space for reflection on the word I’ve felt myself running from for the last several years.  30 former volunteers were gathered for four days to process our volunteer year together – some from Lutheran Volunteer Corps, Jesuit Volunteer Corps, Mennonite Volunteer Services, and plenty of others.  What has happened to us in the last year, and perhaps more importantly, what does it mean for us now as we go forward?  And lest we forget – where is God in all of this??

I wish I could say that I left the retreat with a clear idea of what my vocation is.  One of the wonderful opportunities I had during my time in Minneapolis was to participate in a Quaker Clearness Committee.  This was a new concept to me, and one that I was quickly excited about!  Clearness committees are a discernment approach in the Quaker tradition where a focus person presents a problem/conflict/question to a supportive group of about 5 people.  Generally, this is quite a formal process.  The focus person would write a statement of concern and send it to selected mentors/friends along with an invitation to join the clearness committee.  Whoever accepts becomes a part of a process that may take days, weeks, or even months as the group helps the focus person with their issue.  The interesting thing, however, is that the clearness committee is not allowed to give any advice, but only to ask questions.  These sessions are designed to help the focus person find his or her own inner guidance on the question at hand.  I was asked what I would like my role to be in a Quaker Clearness Committee session at our retreat, and I offered to be a focus person.  I figured I had plenty of problems that I needed help solving.  My problem/conflict/question that I presented to my small group was:  Should I go to graduate school for conducting next fall?  Now, what I’d really like is just for someone to tell me yes or no.  But the beauty (and challenge) of this exercise is that I still have to answer my own question – alone.  My group did a wonderful job at presenting me (and sometimes bombarding me) with prodding questions for an hour.  What are your fears if you DO go to grad school in the fall?  What are your fears if you DON’T?  Why do you want to go to grad school at all?  Are there other places you can find what you’re looking for at grad school?  Do you feel like your current job and community are challenging you intellectually?

In most Quaker Clearness Committees, you meet as many times as needed until the focus person feels their issue has been addressed.  We limited ours to an hour, just to give us a taste of what was a new activity to almost all of us.  That’s probably a good thing, because frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever have this vocation thing figured out, and my poor Quaker Clearness Committee would accompany me to my grave.  I left that session feeling both refreshed and overloaded.  So I’m sure you’re wondering…how did I resolve this conflict?  Well, I didn’t apply to grad school.  And that’s basically it.  It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just wasn’t spending my free time on applications, and I wasn’t too bothered by it either.  I suppose that says something, though I’m not entirely sure what.  And I still don’t know what that means for me once this year is up… I’ll have to organize another Quaker Clearness Committee and get back to you…

Some Good Comes Out of Hickory

In spite of the many southerners in Hickory, NC that are “hard up” for employment and other good fortune, Hickory-ite Jeffrey Weber stands alongside such successful citizens as Katie Holmes.

 

No really, he’s standing beside her.

While the rest of Hickory wasted their time getting into the furniture and textile businesses, Weber had enough sense to know that the future of this world lies in the movie industry and other pop culture.  Just a few movies away from being in the Director’s Guild, Weber’s jobs on 14 productions are just the start of what proves to be a successful career.  His 14th movie – “The Romantics” – features Katie Holmes and Elijah Wood, holding just enough fame to ensure that Weber will have the most exciting stories to share of anyone at his 10-year high school reunion.  Take that, St. Stephens.

The H-k-y Featured in the Washington Post

Well shoot.  My small-ish hometown of Hickory, NC is finally featured in the Washington Post…but this, my friends, is NOT good news.  No, similar to a good 80% of all stories in big papers around the US at this point in time, Hickory shows up in yet another article about unemployment in the economic crisis.

Just as musical wonder Wesley Willis ends each song with a motto (“Wheaties – breakfast of champions”), I have spent the last 12 years of my life marketing Hickory as the “furniture capital of the world.”  Well, the Post – in too many words, I might add – basically conveys to the reader in this article that China has taken all of the worth out of Hickory and the surrounding area.  What’s left is an unemployment rate of 15%, vacant textile mills and furniture factories, and still far too many restaurants and steakhouses per capita.

And that’s it.  My tagline for Hickory is irrelevant.  Perhaps I could say something like: “Hickory – WAS the freakin furniture capital of the world until China thought they could do it better.”  Just doesn’t have quite the same ring…  The tagline is gone, the jobs are gone, and the people are CONFUSED.  The Post’s article is sprinkled with what must be the best quotes they could muster up from Hickory’s finest:

“Now what is everyone supposed to do?”

“The people in the think tanks keep saying we are going to become — what’s the term? — an ‘information and services’ economy… That doesn’t seem to be working out too good.”

“At my age, I didn’t want to go back to school… But I looked around and everything was $8, $9, $10 an hour. I said, ‘Hell, I’m worth more than that.’ “

“I wish they’d just flush the whole NAFTA idea and tell all the other countries the heck with you.”

And of course, my favorite…

“We don’t want to lose our home… I’m just not seeing where the jobs are.”

Someone needs to tell this poor lady that there are no jobs.  Anywhere.  (Except, maybe, North Dakota…)  Poor Hickory.  Poor, poor Hickory.  People are feeling good about the supposed “end” of this economic crisis, but as the resident pessimist, I feel as though it is my job to let you know that we are nowhere near the end.  N Street Village is seeing an increase in numbers of homeless women almost daily, and pretty soon, it sounds like there will be a great job market for me to work with the homeless back in Hickory.  <sigh>

To read the article for yourself, click here.

Vaseline for Halloween

This Halloween, if you want to please everyone, you should probably just hand out little tubs of Vaseline.  Why, you might ask?  Well, after consulting with the Emmaus House (one of the LVC houses) this evening, I learned that Vaseline – or petroleum jelly – has an incredible number of uses.  I’ve included a list below of some of my favorites:

• skin cream to keep away those wrinkles – petroleum jelly is approved by the FDA as an over-the-counter skin protectant
• chapstick – a constant necessity
• makeup remover – doesn’t sting the eyes, which is a big plus!
• speaking of remover…can remove stains from furniture
• may as well be sunscreen
• good for bike chains or other WD-40-type needs
• and of course, let’s not forget Vaseline as a “personal lubricant,” though it is not to be used with condoms, as it negatively reacts to latex

And of course, if the above suggestions weren’t useful enough, here are a few more of the oh-so-strange ways that Vaseline can be incredibly useful:

• according to Wikipedia, “when used in a 50/50 mixture with pure beeswax, it makes an effective moustache wax”
• useful for a smoother experience of completing the Rubik’s Cube, greasing up the joints
• for use by long distance (typically male) runners to prevent their nipples from chapping/bleeding from their shirt rubbing their chest over time
• used to spread on teeth in order to force someone to smile (common in beauty pageants and gymnastics)
• as a pumpkin sealer after a freshly carved Halloween pumpkin – the petroleum jelly will keep the pumpkin edges from shriveling so quickly

Despite all of these incredibly versatile uses of our favorite kind of jelly, Wikipedia (a highly regarded source!) warns that “its folkloric medicinal value as a ‘cure-all’ has since been limited by better scientific understanding of appropriate and inappropriate uses.”  Believe it or not, there are inappropriate ways to use Vaseline:

• a common mistake, Vaseline should not be used for burns of any kind, not even sunburn, as it traps heat
• inhaling Vaseline as an attempt to cure nasal congestion will only give you more problems, like lipid pneumonia
• again, petroleum jelly + latex = a ruptured condom = not what you want

The other downfall that we must remember is that petroleum jelly is made from a non-renewable resource, which in and of itself is a problem.  Lucky for us, the Green Movement is (once again) one step ahead, creating hybrid petroleums that mix a low percentage of petroleum with a high percentage of renewable oils such as vegetable oils and waxes.  Check out igicares.com for your more environmentally friendly personal care items.

What more can I say about Vaseline??  Nothing, really.  So I’ll leave you with a joke:

A man doing market research knocked on a door and was greeted by a young woman with three small children running around at her feet. He said, “I’m doing some research for Vaseline. Have you ever used the product?”

She said, “Yes. My husband and I use it all the time.”

“And if you don’t mind me asking, what do you use it for?”

“We use it for sex.” The researcher was a little taken aback. He said, “Usually people lie to me and say that they use it on a child’s bicycle chain or to help with a gate hinge. But, in fact, I know that most people do use it for sex. I admire you for your honesty. Since you’ve been frank so far, can you tell me exactly how you use it for sex?”

The woman said, “I don’t mind telling you at all. My husband and I put it on the door knob and it keeps the kids out.”

Happy Halloween…

Rock n Mole

Contrary to what my housemate Allison thinks, you can only blog about Mole Day once a year, and today’s the day!  Happy Mole Day, everyone.  Now if anything from my highschool education stuck with me, it was that the unit of measurement called a “mole” is 6.02 x 10^23.  It sure wasn’t my chemistry teacher that taught me this… no, I only remember her for being one of the worst teachers of my life.  Rather, it was the Mole Day celebrations we had that won me about 40 points of extra credit starting at 6:02 in the morning on 10/23 my junior year of high school that really impacted my learning.

In order to gain extra credit, my friends Jesse and Katie and I made Mole Day shirts (Moles with Soul…Rock n Mole!) and wrote “The Mole Song.”  The song was debuted in our Chemistry class, but shortly thereafter was performed in many classes including Mr. Stuckey’s biology class and Mrs. Haunton’s English class.  2004 graduates from St. Stephen’s High School in Hickory, NC may remember this song as one of the finest, most fly songs they have ever heard.  The witty lyrics and catchy tune are not to be forgotten.

While I wish I could perform it for you right NOW, the lyrics will have to do:

Well I’m not some government agent spy
Not CIA or FBI
And I’m not a gopher living in hole!
Well Groundhog Day just ain’t my place
And I’m not a spot upon your face…
Yes you know that I’m not that kind of mole!!

Six point oh two times ten to the twenty-third
Is all I’m worth or so I’ve heard…
At least the scientists believe it’s true!
Well you know Avogadro’s Constant
Is the particles in the mole of a substance-

Tell me please how many moles are you?!

The amount of atoms in 12 grams
Of carbon 12 is what I am.
That is what the chemists all decided.
An element’s mass in amu
Is the number of grams in a mole of that too-
Raise your hands and yell if you’re excited!

We are all just particles
We are all just lonely souls
We are all just particles
We are all a bunch of moles…

May your Mole Day be merry and bright!  Peace to all…

a new hobby

Mural painting.  I was an art major in college, but I have NO experience painting murals.  Until now.  Unfortunately, it’s not really the kind of hobby you can practice!  When Pastor Karen came to me with the idea of painting St. Francis on the door of Luther Place Church, I must be honest and say that I freaked out.  It seemed all too risky for my first ever mural to be on the old front door of a center-city church that’s on the National Register of Historic Places!  But PK pushed me and said it was a risk that she would like me to take, so I did.  A few weeks later, my first mural is complete, with all of the good and all of the bad, and I’ve learned many things.  I learned artistic techniques and logistics, sure, and I developed a newfound love and respect for murals around the city, but perhaps most importantly, I developed some sort of reverence for St. Francis, as he gradually came to life on what was originally a piece of plywood.

Before I began, I asked PK what she was envisioning.  Was there anything specific she had in mind, or was I on my own to interpret said mural as I pleased?  Pastor Karen’s response seemed feasible…at first.  “You can do whatever you’d like.”  Sigh of relief.  “But it must be whimsical, memorable, and distinctive.”  Ahh!  No pressure!  A sketch finally resulted after days of reading stories about St. Francis and praying his many prayers each morning.  I’m generally inspired by words, and I got stuck on a few that quickly became my favorite.  St. Francis, while walking with a few of his compatriots, said: “Wait here while I go preach to my sisters, the birds.”  I couldn’t help but smile while picturing this scene and remembering several distinct moments during my LVC year when a fellow LVCer would essentially say to me, “Wait here while I greet every dog that walks by.”  At the time, I thought he was ridiculous…an embarrassment to say the least!  But the more I thought about St. Francis loving each and every creature – even the smallest of birds, the more I realized how much beauty the rest of us are missing.  In an urban setting like Washington, DC, it is easy to take one glance at the pigeons, the rats, the dogs, and curse them for making a mess of our home, our creation.  But as Christa, one of my LVC housemates, challenged us last year during a spirituality night, why should we value ourselves as more than a small part of the one great unit of creation?

It’s been over a week now since the St. Francis mural was “unveiled,” and I’ve already painted on one wall in my office and am making plans for the others!  The peace that St. Francis brings even to every pigeon reminds me to look more deeply and listen more carefully to all that is happening around me, and to take every chance I get to help a blank wall or canvas mature into color and shape, sound and feeling.  (see www.lutherplace.org for another article on the mural)

Housies!

This website most certainly needs a makeover… since my life has basically had one!  I am no longer doing LVC in DC, and I am no longer leading the life of a volunteer (though working for the church may as well be volunteering).  Upon returning from a most fantastic roadtrip with my sister, it was time for a few life changes.

I went from 5 female housemates to 1 female and 1 male housemate – Allison (one of my LVC housemates) and Tom Paradise (a friend from Luther).  And I transitioned from living in a 3-story rowhouse with a wicked basement and roofdeck to one floor of a rowhouse.  Luckily, my workplace has remained the same, providing some sort of constant in my life!

With almost two months under my belt in this new place with new housies, I have only good things to report!  Our house is SWEET to say the least, and I am so blessed to have such wonderful housemates.  Sometimes I miss the busyness of having a house of 6 young women – there’s always something happening.  But many things are easier to accomplish when there are only 3 people to gather.  During our first house meeting, we mentioned the possibility of having community night once a week like we did in LVC.  This, however, happens automatically almost EVERY night of the week!  With only 3 people, it’s easier to do everything together… and the extravert in me shouts for joy!

So, bear with me as I gradually make changes to this site in hopes of sharing with you what life is like after LVC and beyond.  I have much to say!  Now if only my stolen wireless internet would work well enough to say it…

Day 7 of 7

(a report on me and my sister’s roadtrip…)

Day 7 – back to Napa via the Redwood National Forest

Ah, the final day of our trip!  Erin and I were sad for the end, but with a long day’s drive ahead of us, we were sure there was something good still in store!  It was our last morning of singing On the Road Again, so we videotaped it so it could go down in history.  (Check out the first minute of that video here.)  Although the drive would be long, Erin and I were really looking forward to the opportunity to drive along Route 1 for part of the day with a lovely view of the coast.

It was a foggy morning, which Erin kept wishing away, but I loved the magnificence the fog gave the redwood trees as we began driving through the forest.  The trees were so huge, and with the low-hanging clouds, you really couldn’t see where they ended.  It was a beautiful drive, just as we had anticipated.  We kept making ridiculous remarks about how much better it was than Olympic… we just couldn’t let go of our negative attitudes from the day before.  As per usual, we didn’t have much time to do much else other than drive through the forest slowly, pulling over on occasion to take photos.

We drove on, trees climbing up to the sky on either side of our car, until suddenly, there was a huge clearing ahead.  The clearing suprised us after miles of trees, so we slowed as we approached.  On our left was a huge log cabin that appeared to be a store of some sort.  We couldn’t really focus on that, however, because right next to it was a giant statue of Paul Bunyon and his blue ox, Babe!!!  Now, Erin and I have seen some strange statues on this trip, but this was by far the largest, so we pulled over to take a picture.  While we stood there staring and wondering why on earth this would exist in the middle of a beautiful forest, Paul Bunyon suddenly winked his eye!  “Erin!!!!  Did you see that??????  He winks!!!!!!”  I watched in awe at this amazing mechanical device that seemed to blink every few minutes or so.  As if this weren’t enough, our mouths gaped as Paul waved his right hand, side to side.  Little kids climbed over his boots – we were not the only ones watching.  A crowd began to gather, when SUDDENLY, a voice said, “You kids tryin’ to climb on my boots?  Good luck with that…I’m pretty tall!”  Heads swiveled as tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.  It didn’t stop there.  Paul continued talking, and Erin and I could not take our eyes away.  Eventually he said, “You ladies in the parking lot look like you’re waiting for me to do something!  Did you wanna see a wink?  Or perhaps a smile?  Or maybe you wanted a profile…”  Paul began turning his head to the right before saying, “Oo…let me show you my better side.”  Turns his head to the left.  Erin and I were really quite shocked.  There is no way to describe this, so you’ll have to watch the video.

Afterwards, it took Erin and I a good hour or so to move past what had just happened.  Before we knew it, it was way past lunch time and we hadn’t eaten.  Now, we could’ve simply eaten sandwiches (or the freakin’ pluot that had been sitting in our car for DAYS now…), but by this point, we had had so many sandwiches.  Erin and I were craving seafood!  I mean, we were on the coast, after all!  We could’ve kept this part of our trip really simple, but instead, Erin came up with a picture in her head of exactly where she wanted to dine for lunch.

She can correct me, but I think she was imagining some sort of cutesy place on the sea.  I was losing hope as time marched on and all we were finding were more gigantic trees.

We took an exit in hopes of finding something, but it all looked residential.  But then! our luck continued, for the day did not hold for us simply an oversized Paul Bunyon and Babe, but also a cutesy restaurant on the sea.

“This is exactly what I imagined!!!!!”  Phew!  Erin was happy, and I got a blackberry milkshake.

The rest of the day went by too fast as we finished our drive, heading straight for the San Francisco airport.  We couldn’t have asked for a better trip.  Everything about it was perfect to a T!  We hammered out 5 National Parks in 7 days, saw everything we had hoped to see, and did everything we hoped to do.  As we pulled into the Ticketing/Check-In area, there was really only one thing left:

time to eat that damn pluot!

love you, sis

can’t wait till we get on the road again!

Day 6 of 7

(a report on me and my sister’s roadtrip…)

Day 6 – Olympic National Park & Salem, Oregon

Erin and I woke up bright and early since we only had until around noon to check out Olympic National Park.

This park was MASSIVE and completely different from all other parks we had ever visited.  With most parks, you drive in to the park, stop at the visitor center, and check out the park.  With Olympic, you mostly drive around the outskirts of the park with only a few options to turn down a smaller road and actually enter the park.  We had high expectations, and considering the fact that we had seen some incredible sights, we really expected Olympic to top them all.  But things just didn’t seem to go our way.  We had heard a lot about Hurricane Ridge – an overlook that is supposedly amazing, but it was closed down because of a landslide.  Then, we heard about a place where we could bathe in natural hot springs.  Aside from being a long detour from the direction we needed to head, the “natural” hot springs were basically turned into hot tubs with tile flooring and walls…  Not quite as natural as we were hoping for, but a chance to “shower” nonetheless (which we were always seeking)!  We made our way around the park, slowed often because of construction.  We hadn’t completely lost hope as we were sure our last stop would be the greatest: the rainforest.

Somehow, we seemed to have a hard time finding the rainforest.  It just wasn’t as wild and adventurous as we had expected!  We pulled over for a short hike and second-guessed over and over if this was actually it.  What a disappointment, we thought.  Erin even went so far as to put Olympic National Park at the BOTTOM of her list of favorite national parks!!  The thing to remember, however, is that we were judging in comparison to our EXCELLENT last several days and in comparison to our unreasonably high expectations that we had set.  As we walked through the rainforest, we fulfilled Erin’s only request to find a fern that was taller than her.  We walked and laughed and joked about “how much fun we were having,” forcing ourselves to have a positive attitude on what was clearly becoming our least favorite day.

After hours of finally making it through the park (especially with the unbearable construction!), we were back on the road again.  We had really hoped to make a few wineries in Oregon.  Erin had secured a list of good Oregon wineries from her winemaker friend in Napa, and we picked one to head to.  Unfortunately, we were cutting it so close on time that we only made it to one winery, at 5pm exactly – closing time.  We had called ahead and asked if it would be okay if we came in anyway since we had driven SO far!  They were kind (while still making us feel slightly guilty for keeping them at work late), and gave us much more wine than we deserved!  It was tasty, though you’ll have to check with Erin for a better description than that.  Oregon is known for its Pinot Noir, so Erin and I both felt compelled to buy some!

Our trip was nearing an end, so in an effort to head further south and shorten our driving for the next day, we made our way down to Salem, Oregon to stay with my friends Jesse and Andrew!  We arrived around 7pm, right in time for a delicious Mexican dinner – margaritas on us!  We hung around and chatted until the evening hours.  It was so nice to catch up with friends and have a night in a bed!  It was a long day, and the comfortable sleep was just what we needed to survive our final day of driving.

Meanwhile, the pluot was staring at us from the cupholder in our car.  “Shoot!  We forgot to eat that pluot again…”

Day 5 of 7

(a report on me and my sister’s roadtrip…)

Day 5 – Seattle, Washington

Unfortunately, our time at Mt. Rainier was over by 7am.  We really did this trip ADHD style, not staying too long in any one place.  Most of the time, we preferred that.  We’d leave a place and Erin and I would look at each other and jointly say, “You know…we weren’t here very long, but I think I got a good feel for the place.  I’m ready to move on.”  But this time around, we kinda wished we could stay longer.  Still, Seattle was beckoning, so we turned on Rhapsody In Blue and headed into the city.

Erin and I weren’t really prepared for this day… at all.  Neither of us had ever been to Seattle, and we didn’t have any solid connections in Seattle like Kyle in Portland.  We read through our travel books during our drive and decided we really wanted two things: to go to the market (and especially to see people throw fish), and to do something in water (preferably kayak).  We arrived in Seattle and headed straight for the Pike Peak Market.  It was lovely!  We walked around for quite awhile, buying gifts for family members left and right.  And, just as Erin had hoped, we saw the fish throwers.  We decided to have some fish shipped to our brother Jeff & his fiancee Danielle, and as we were seeking advice and deciding what to get, someone practically threw a fish over our heads to his fellow worker!  As if this wasn’t thrilling enough, our biggest thrill was this: all of the cute young men in the nation seem to live in Seattle and work at this marketplace.  Overwhelmed, Erin and I walked slowly through the market, being swayed from one stand to the next by some delicious young man offering us a juicy slice of peach, or a sample of chocolate spaghetti, or – our favorite – the taste of a pluot.  A what??

“A pluot,” he said.  “It’s a mixture of a plum and an apricot!”  I do not need to spend my money on a strangely named, not-even-real fruit, I thought.  But he is just too cute to look away! “I’ll take one pluot, please.”  And that, good friends, was the start of the saga of the pluot, which travelled with us to the end of our journey.  The rest of that particular day, the pluot sat warmly in my purse.

Our experience in the market made us crave seafood, leading us to Cutter’s, a lovely restaurant just by the market.  Please note that neither Erin nor I had showered since Portland, and quite frankly, we weren’t looking too hot as we headed into the restaurant.  Then, the strangest thing happened – Erin ran into a friend of her husband’s!  Small world, right?  He was there for a business meeting, but his company never showed, so he invited us to eat with him…and payed for it!  Nice.  After a rather lengthy lunch, Erin and I made our way to Lake Union to go kayaking!  The water was so refreshing, and the view of the city was just what we needed to take it all in.

A couple of hours later and a desperate attempt to find a margarita, and it was already time to leave this new city that we had barely gotten a taste for.  We parked our car in a line for a ferry to take us across the water to the Olympic Peninsula.  We had just enough time to rush over to an oyster bar for drinks (finally got my margarita…blackberry style!) and shrimp/oysters.  Perfect.

May I foreshadow day 6 by telling you that the ferry ride to the peninsula was more beautiful than the peninsula itself…  Our intentions to finish our day with a pluot were blindsided by the frustrating realization that our campsite that night was covered with gravel, as though dirt ground isn’t already hard enough.  It had been a long, insatiable day with a lot of driving… the pluot would have to wait.