Burnt Cookies and Milkshakes

I bought this composition notebook for Oxford. My really cool friend had a composition notebook that he always carried around with him in which he wrote lots of profound things (or so I assumed), and I figured I'd be wanting to think really profound things when I came to Oxford so I needed a composition notebook to record them all. I searched high and low for the perfect composition book, and when my momma found one that was all I hoped for and more, I nearly cried from happiness. I'm going to succeed! I thought to myself. I'm going to be brilliant, I dreamed.

Then I arrived here.

We had our first orientation meeting. I walked into that ugly little lecture room thinking it was the most glorious room I had ever had the privilege to enter. I beamed from head to toe, carrying my little composition notebook, prepared to be inspired. I sat down, uncapped my pen, and waited. The first thing the director of the program said that I copied down in my little notebook was:

Oxford: Where your best is never good enough!

Hm. Not exactly the inspiring opening line that I was anticipating. My best isn't good enough? It's NEVER good enough? I don't think I signed up for that.

Although this is something that we Oxfordians joke about now and again, I'm starting to see the reality of it played out in my life. Every time I go into my tutorial and share my, what I see as, brilliant thoughts, my professor blinks an awkward amount of times and just sorta looks at me as if to say "Is that all?" The papers he ends up liking the best are the ones I struggled and cursed and cried through because coherent words were evading me. The papers that I start before 3 hours before they're due, the ones that I think must be great are, at best, mediocre. 

And this happens not only with my academic endeavors. The other day I wanted to do something special for my sweet, sweet roommate. She was working away like mad, writing a paper and I decided I would surprise her with some homemade cookies (I've been experimenting lately. I created a recipe for caramel oatmeal cookies. Yum.) I concocted the heavenly lumps of goodness and put them in the oven. I then proceeded to a. Do my laundry which I've neglected for the past three weeks b. Apply for every job I could find, especially the ones with ridiculously extensive applications c. Read all of the emails that had been mocking me from my inbox d. Watch awkward campaign videos and e. COMPLETELY FORGET ABOUT MY COOKIES! By the time I remembered that I had something in the oven, it was way too late. I opened the oven and was greeted by a face-full of smoke and a couple crispy, black hockey pucks laughing at me. I ran them outside so they wouldn't set off the fire alarm, and as I set them down, they scoffed "You're best is never good enough!" Ouch.

So that's pretty rough sometimes. But wait! Thank goodness it doesn't end there. My entire time at Oxford isn't characterized by failure. 

I learned a few very important lesson the day I attempted to make those cookies. A couple hours after the whole ordeal, I was sitting at the kitchen table attempting to finish one of the extensive applications I had started. I was feeling very "My best is never good enough" and genuinely struggling to complete anything. When suddenly! My dear friend Katina walked into the kitchen and sat across from me. We chatted a bit and she mentioned really wanting a milkshake. In about 2 seconds of talking about it, we both realized how desperately we both needed milkshakes. It was decided. We would go for a milkshake run. We threw on our coats, hopped on our bikes and biked up the hill to the grocery store where we bought 2 things of ice cream, milk, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup. It was the happiest full backpack I've ever biked with. 

We returned home, and I put on some throwback Elvis tunes and other appropriate milkshake making music (Jailhouse rock, Splishin and a Splashin, etc etc). We danced and milkshaked and before long, we had a gathering of dancers. A group of 6 or 7 girls joined us in the kitchen and we hand-jived and mock hula danced and wiggled around like goofs. It was marvelous. 

Further on that night, after walking around the neighborhood and consuming heavenly nectar, I found myself listening to a debate between some friends of mine about the responsibility of knowledge. The more we know, the more responsibility we have to do something about the things we know. One side of the debate brought up the fact that this mentality often puts so much pressure on the individual. Many Christian school kids in particular end up thinking that they are supposed to change the world once they graduate. That's a lot of weight for one person's shoulders. I couldn't help but think, "I could never do that. My best is never good enough." But that's when it hit me:

My best is never good enough, but our best has the potential to be. 

I like that. I find that to be inspiring, freeing. My best is burnt cookies, but when I joined with my friends, our best was milkshakes, dancing, great conversations, and much laughter. I have a responsibility to do something about all that I'm learning here? That's great. I'm not alone. If more people realized that their best isn't good enough, maybe we'd actually get something done in this world. 

My best is never good enough and it never will be. I need the people around me to be good enough. And I love that.

The Perks of a Sick Day

So I took a sick day today. I can't even remember the last time I felt sick enough to actually let myself have a sick day. I don't ever get sick. I just don't. But that kinda means that when I do get sick, I'm a baby about it. I just don't know how to cope! (Ask my poor roommate. She had to listen to me complain for hours last night). I'm not sure if normal people have a secret for handling sickness, but I don't know the secret. I cease to have the will to live when I get sick. My universe stops. But the result of that is that this was a rather lovely day. Honestly, if it wasn't for the feeling like crap thing, sick days would be the bomb! (Can I say that anymore?) So cheers, Sick-day. Thanks for the chance to finally update my blog.

So here we go: updates on the Oxford thing. My school work is going wonderfully. I think I mentioned that I have the same tutor for both tutorials this term so that's been kinda neat being able to make the two correspond in some ways. For example, this week I'm studying Yeats' poetry for my one tutorial and the linguistic structure of poetry in my other tutorial. Excuse me while I'm a nerd, but I find that very exciting.

This past week I was reading the book Ulysses by James Joyce. It's a brilliant 600+ pg book that is full of random changes in narrator, unannounced interjections of characters thoughts, constant literary style changes; and, overall, is just physically painful to read. No, but really. I'm pretty sure that was the response Joyce was shooting for. The story is based (loosely) on the Odyssey, Odysseus' grueling journey back home, and for those reading the story, you feel Odysseus' pain. For me, I felt it so much that I got sick. (I'm not sure if it was Ulysses that caused my sickness or the fact that I stopped drinking 3 glasses of orange juice a day. Maybe a mix of both). But the story is nonetheless brilliant! Joyce brings up some really important life questions that he intentionally doesn't answer. And though I could go on for paragraphs and paragraphs talking about what I learned and what I thought of the book, I'm guessing most of you reading this probably don't care that much. If you do care, message me and we can have a nice chat about Joyce. He's such a dude!

On top of my tutorials I've been going to a couple really solid lectures. One of which is a philosophy lecture on Aesthetics. This is literally the study of Beauty. What an incredible thing to spend your life studying! "Oh hi there, Mr. Professor, what did you decide to do with your life?" Ah, you know, just STUDY BEAUTY!!! What?! How incredible! Every week I find myself walking away from those lectures inspired and desiring to live more Beautifully. I can't help but wonder what would happen if we were all students of Beauty. If we sought the Beautiful in our every day life. If we appreciated Beauty and desired to live in a way that reflected this Beauty. It's so interesting to me that there is this somewhat elusive idea of Beauty that no one, not even the smartest philosophers at Oxford, can exactly define, but nearly everyone can agree on. People have different tastes, different opinions, but there are certain things that everyone agrees are Beautiful. Why? Where does this universal agreement come from? In my very humble opinion, I think part of the reason is because Beauty is an aspect of God. If we believe that we are created in the image of God, then it makes sense that these things of Beauty that express the nature of God will speak to something deep within us. That's what I think Beauty is. When the divine in other things speaks to the divine in us. But then again, I've only been to a couple Aesthetic lectures, so I can't exactly claim to be an expert on this. I think I'd like to be some day. To be an expert on Beauty, that seems to denote a well spent life.

Random Side note: My roommate is Irish dancing, like "Riverdance" Irish dancing, in our room while I write this. Why is she so cool?

So that's all there is to say about school work these days. I'm working hard, learning lots, and being deeply inspired. I'd say that's a good report card. Of course, I'm not only doing work over here, but we are currently in the middle of term so no extensive adventures. I did go frolicking in my favorite part of Oxford the other day. A place called port meadows.




I biked through here last term on my trip up the Thames river (though I recently learned that it is called the Isis river when it runs through Oxford). I ventured here on a very rare sunny day we had last week, and it was quite lovely!












Of course, it was a bit muddy... I took off my shoes so they wouldn't get irredeemably muddy, but don't let the bare feet and the sunshine fool you. It was freezing and I ended up not being able to feel my feet by the time I biked back home. Ah the price I pay for adventure.

So there's the Oxford update. Besides being rather sick today, things are going lovelily. I live in a Beautiful place and am inspired to live a Beautiful life. What more can one ask for?