it's a way of being

My sister collects high heel shoes. I have a friend who collects piggy banks. Beaver Falls collects Geneva grads. Muncie collects … corn. Shoot, even Jesus collects disciples. Collecting is natural. It ties us to a certain ideal or memory or whatever that is essential in defining us as whom we are or want to be.

So last week during clinic when my eight-year-old client asked me if I collect anything, I realized to my chagrin that I do not collect anything. ANYTHING.

That’s frustrating. I eventually provided her with a bogus answer of books and sweaters (I really know how to impress this Hannah Montana generation let me tell you). Some truth was in the answer provided. I do have an excessive amount of sweaters and books. But I wouldn’t consider them a collection. They are just pieces of my day to day life.

Needless to say this put me in kind of a funk. Seriously how lame do you have to be to not collect anything? It seems so unnatural. But then a miracle occurred. I turned on my computer to do some work and played some tunes. Then it hit me… I collect music genres.

Most people I know stick to one genre. Yeah they have their favorite oldies or latest top 40 song they really enjoy, but for the most part they pick one type of music and embrace it until they die. But I don’t do that. Phases occur in my life when something just clicks, I find my niche, and basically download every obscure song from a specific genre for a good portion of a year. And then I move on to the next.

This is something I learned from my parents. Growing up with my parents their music tastes altered from year to year. From classic country to doo-wop, bluegrass to folk revival, sixties/seventies rock to whatever, my parents were constantly shifting through their records and cassette tapes and bringing new music into my life.

My parents never did get into disco, though. Thank you God.

Past genres in my life that I have devoured include ska, big band, classic rock, bubble gum pop, adult alternative, jazz fusion, British-wave, neo-folk, indie, glam rock, alt country, country, and immigrant punk. My latest genre obsession has been neo-soul.

You could chalk up the different genres as the result of changing times, interests, and taste. But I don’t think that’s it. I still love all the music I have collected and listen to it when the mood strikes.

I think on the surface level I collect genres for the challenge - the challenge to reach out and bring something foreign into my life. My parents were constantly changing their music and challenging me to learn about other cultures, times, and people. And I guess by searching for new music I can continue this tradition.

But what it really boils down to is that this genre changing actually brings me closer to my past, my home, and my parents. Earlier I stated that collecting ties us to that which is important in establishing our identity. And for me that involves my family.

i got a new man in my life...

and his name is keaton!!! yes, the love shack baby has finally emerged from the loins of his ever-so-lovely mother sara and he is beautiful. i have already started working on nicknames and my fave so far is sweet keats. as he gets older i will just call him keats for i have high expectations for this boy - he will be brilliant as well as easy on the eyes. congrats sara and kyle!!

in other news grad school is... well it just is. classes do not appear to be anything i can't handle. so far i have already known or been familar with all of the content (thanks dochoc and layton!) and haven't had much work outside of class... i am a ga for two very different, but engaging professors. the first is highly interested in family literacy (yay!) and i am currently helping her develop curriclum for a course on universal design instruction. the second prof's area of expertise is alternative communcation devices. basically i am overseeing his undergrad diagnostics class. although i am gaining great experience by working with these professor's they will most definitly be the death of me... also one cannot forget the city of muncie. already amanda and i have discovered some of its hidden jewels, but only time will tell whether or not i will strike up a love affair with this midwestern town.

on a side note i had the brilliant idea for a new tattoo (sorry mom). i have been studying through hebrews and in chapter 6 hope and faith in christ are compared to an anchor. this imagery just hit home with me and needless to say it would make an awesome tattoo. lots more planning needs to go into this idea and i already have some more fully developed concepts for other tattoos, but i still love this idea. when funds allow it, it will be done.

refrigerators - a window to the soul

You can tell a lot about a person by the contents of their fridge. Both the outer shell and its fillings provide insight to the madness of its owner.

Take for instance my parents fridge. The insides are a hot mess of condiments, home cooked leftovers, and half empty milk jugs. Its outer walls are concealed by an ungodly amount of photos, vague phone numbers, tacky magnets, and faded newspaper articles.

But through all of this disorder a picture of a family is revealed. A deeper look provides insight into the world of the Aratas. Bottles of cholula, and the remnants of artichokes, avocadoes, and homemade enchiladas expose a family who has embraced its southwestern identity. Photos of vacations past, tacky poses, and graduation caps reveal a diverse yet loving family. Magnets featuring bible verses, superheroes, and an alcoholic mayor expose the heart and humor of the household.

My parent’s fridge took ten years to look as it does. Ten years of life has produced a fridge that illustrates a family that is chaotic but full of affection for not only food and its hometown, but for one another as well.

And that brings me to Muncie, Indiana. A place where I have lived and had a fridge for exactly three days. Yet already it has begun to take on a life that mimics its owners. Already the insides are bursting with locally grown produce and a six pack of yuengling (the last for many months). The outside are already covered with coupon clippings and homemade beer cap magnets. Pictures have emerged on its walls that capture cherished friendships and individuals with an odd sense of humor.

So in closing I encourage you to look and reflect on your own refrigerator. What does it convey about you and your life? What revelations are found regarding what you treasure and find pleasure in?