Anna

I started to finally write a bit about Anna Karenina, and I think I've finally begun to articulate what moved me most about her story. I mean, the novel has essentially two protagonists and Anna is only on of them (the other being Levin), but I was definitely far more captivated by the book's namesake. I listened to Anna on audiobook, and I actually found the experience far more rewarding than any past audiobook (the reader was exceptional, I think).

First of all, the fact that Tolstoy so effectively got inside the mind of a woman is both laudable and, as a woman, almost uncomfortable. I was shocked at how much I identified and understood Anna's thought processes and was all but blushing at moments to hear some emotions that I know I've experienced so adequately described and articulated. There were times that I was squirming. Admittedly, there's much that Anna did that I have not done, but I was unprepared to identify with her so much.

But the fact that, as a man, Tolstoy was able to so poignantly portray the vast complexities of a female character such as Anna left me wondering if maybe most of Anna's internal struggle was actually universally human and not merely feminine--though the way her struggle manifests itself in jealousy, etc, in many ways (unfortunately) defines the feminine stereotype. I think there may be some truth to this because I think that we as society often chalk up some women's struggles as peculiar to the female gender when perhaps the struggle is more common to all mankind than all mankind cares to admit. Maybe, I'm just speculating.

Anyway, the other thing that surprised me is that the end that Anna made for herself (depending on your theology/philosophy) made me unexpectedly thankful for feminism. I didn't expect that reaction but I felt my heart "going out" to Anna who, Tolstoy makes clear, is a very intelligent, broad minded, passionate, principled and--for all (original) intents and purposes--moral woman. Anna was amazing, she was the pinnacle of what a Russian woman in society was to be, for the novel paints that picture well in the first parts of the story. She was the envy of the Russian elite--and the elite ended up (ah, human nature) delighting in her downfall when it came.

But this same society however required her first to marry to live. Then such a marriage had its proper duties and appearances to keep up. But what affected me the most was that the eventuality for Anna was that the intellectual and spiritual confines of the life and existence into which she seemed even willingly fall (at first) ended up being far, far less than the depth that her beautiful soul needed for her true satisfaction.

And this is why she ended up turning to Vronsky. In my opinion, of course, this was not the correct venue to channel her dissatisfaction nor to find its fulfillment. I believe that our true fulfillment and satisfaction can never be found outside of a relationship with God--though certainly and even designedly relationships with people and especially marriage play a role in that as well. However, the deep yearning that Anna felt was an echo in her soul crying out for spiritual fulfillment that she would never be able to find in Count Vronsky.

For this, I felt an immense level of compassion for Anna, an amazing woman who was not socially or even religiously allowed live up to her true, God given potential. I think it's fair to say that the way the church and religion was put out to the Russian world in that day did no favors to Anna to find her path to what she truly needed. Indeed, there seems to have been an unhealthy marriage between the church and the social norms of the day that worked against her--and really against themselves.

In her deep and abiding dissatisfaction she turned to a man and it was her ruin. But I could even understand this part to a degree. There have been times in my life (albeit very few) when I have met someone, even if it was extremely briefly, that seemed to understand me to such a jarringly deep degree that I was left so completely fascinated and, well, transfixed on the connection that seemed to be between us--almost powerless. Obviously, it's never ended or even proceeded for me the way it did for Anna, but still, if I'm really honest the connection between her and Vronsky that utterly bewitched her isn't completely foreign to me. I can relate, poor thing.

But anyway, the whole story made me wonder if things would have been different for such a remarkable woman had she had more opportunity in her day (yes, I realize it's fiction). I have avenues to be healthier than she in my pursuit for wholeness, for fulfillment. This, I guess for me, was the true tragedy in the story.

And I found myself uttering thanks to God that I now live in a world where I don't have to marry to live, that I can explore the world, both geographically and intellectually, as much as I want and I have the resources at my tips to know GOD as much as my heart so desires. And if I ever marry, it will be because it's right, not because I have to. These things Anna never knew nor could she, arguably, in her day.

That said, I am not blaming Anna's adultery on society. I would be the last to absolve her of her behavior. Reasons for one's behavior do not automatically make excuses. I can see in the story where she would have been wiser to run...and she didn't. No, what I am saying is:

While she had a responsibility to navigate it better, and she tragically failed, Anna's world also tragically limited her in her time, and I'm grateful that my world is different than hers.

(Day 18)

Thorn in the Flesh (Weaknesses Continued)

So, after my short reflection on weaknesses yesterday, I’ve been thinking about another thing that happened this year that kind of plays off that principle. I think I’m ready to write about this. Until now I haven’t because, well, I just had a lot of processing to do about it. But here goes.

Mid-May this year, one week before my second round of law school finals, I got diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), at 31 years old.

I kind of have to stare at that for a second. I realize that there is a host of individuals that have lived with this for a long time, and so it’s not a big deal for them, but it was for me. 

When I was younger I always dreamed of going to Harvard. In any capacity, really. I had dreams of learning so many languages I’d lose count and I was going to be living all over the world. I wanted to get my doctorate in Shakespeare at Oxford and maybe in French somewhere too.

I was going to be amazing. And I was riding on pride. (Enough said.)

Anyway, I was homeschooled, and this is the biggest reason that my issue never got caught. I do not have the “hyperactive” version of ADD (turns out it’s rare in females). I remember having some difficulty in school growing up but I always wanted to finish my school work so my mom never really worried about me. But I remember spending an inordinate time on math, and my grades never seemed up to snuff in my Literary Circle courses. I was never good enough—or that’s how I felt anyway. But I thought that was just the prideful perfectionist in me that wanted to be the smartest person I knew. 

There was definitely a lot of that pride, but my mom was wonderful through all of my schooling years in that she never fed my perfectionism. She instead made every effort to reign it in:

“Your best is good enough, Traci. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“You’re not going to be good at everything, honey, and that’s okay.”

But I always felt I could do better and I wasn’t living up to what I could do. Looking back, I think that it’s partially true, but I’m also really glad my mom chose to tame my perfectionism instead of encourage it.

I started at the local community college at 15 years old. So, naturally, me working harder that the people around me didn’t phase me, I figured it was normal because I was younger. Also, I found my niche at Clackamas Community College: languages. I excelled in my French immersion courses there and loved every minute of them.

I was always a very driven student and I was determined to graduate high school with my associate’s degree and so my mom let me handle figuring that out. I did it, and then I wanted desperately to continue on to a 4-year university. I finally did 2 years later and ended up majoring in French--I just couldn’t give it up.

I did fine in college, with the exception of a couple of courses, and my grades were never any red flags because I love to learn and school has always been very, very important to me. I studied mostly on my own and was very autonomous throughout college. Language studies came pretty easily to me but I never thought twice about the fact that the literature classes were more difficult for me than the grammar classes. I guess I just figured it was because I had never spent time in France and didn’t have the feel for the language that my classmates did. I ended up graduating college cum laude, though, never suspecting any issue whatsoever.

But then I thought it kind of strange that I had so much trouble studying for the LSAT. I had to take extra time than I planned (3-4 months more) and it was so, so hard to concentrate--and it wasn’t for lack of will. I worked long and hard and I ended up scoring significantly lower on my test than my consistent practice test scores and I was frustrated. I chalked it up to some other circumstances in my life at the time. (Sidenote: God provided an amazing scholarship anyway. I see now that it was partially my LSAT score that helped me end up exactly where I needed to be. If I had scored higher I may have not come to UST. Interesting to think about now.)

Then I got to law school: one of the biggest and healthiest blows that my pride has ever suffered, and I’m actually glad for that.  I think I’ve mentioned before that my big ego thought I’d rock law school, that I’d be top of my class, maybe transfer, etc. and none of that happened.

Actually what ended up happening was I started to notice that the people around me didn’t have as much trouble concentrating. I started noticing the extreme difficulty I had when trying to read with anyone else around. I would literally get angry when someone started talking because I couldn’t tune them out and continue reading. Sometimes I would have to leave my study group to study because I couldn’t pay attention.... I knew it wasn't normal that I couldn't functionally study in a group, because I could see my classmates didn't have any problem with it.

Then there were afternoons when I would literally find myself in tears because I was only 10 pages into a 30 page reading assignment that I'd already spent 2 hours on and I couldn’t for the life of me absorb what I was reading--and it wasn't for lack of desire to understand. I was shocked and could not understand why all of the sudden I felt so dumb.

Then one day the subject of ADD came up in conversation and I began to look up symptoms. I was shocked with what I found—I seemed to pretty much fit the profile.

To make a long story short,  that conversation spurred me getting “screened.” Every one I talked to seemed skeptical at first. After all, I was 31 years old and the first year of law school is grueling. I felt the skepticism, too, but I didn’t care if I had ADD or didn’t I just needed to know what was wrong…or if I was just lazy like I’d thought for all these years.

But, the psychologist came back with this: I had pretty much textbook ADD. What’s more is I scored very, very high in language skills and so it was little wonder that my issue didn’t get caught in college because I chose a major that played to my strengths. Additionally, my unique early education circumstances allowed for me to pretty much take all the time I needed to get anything done. And since I was the oldest, mom had no one to compare my habits to.

Amazingly, the “Red Sea parted” right before my last 1L exams and I got the help I needed. In all honesty, it’s still hard to admit that I need this help, but it is what it is. The diagnosis was hard to receive, but for reasons I didn’t foresee. It has made me look back on my life and wonder where I would be if I had known about it and had the help I needed before now. Would I be smart enough to be at Harvard like I always dreamed? Would I have actually been Oxford caliber? I’ll never know, but that’s not the point. 

The point is rather that God promises us that He’ll give us what we need to accomplish our path and I have to trust that I didn’t need to know about this till now, otherwise I would have. And I'm right where I am supposed to be ADD or not--that I don't doubt. But here’s the clincher: I was talking to my dad about this shortly after the diagnosis and he said something that I’ve since thought a lot about:

“I’m thinking about this, Trace, and looking back on your life. You’ve often chosen the hard thing in many situations and we’ve often wondered why. You’ve chosen to be disciplined about things you didn’t need to be or chosen just a harder path. But now it makes sense. Harder was normal for you….”

Wow. I guess maybe there's some truth to that. I’ve often been slightly mocked or chuckled at for choosing “hard things.” "Whatever that means," I would think. I think my dad might be on to something that the ADD was a factor: I probably had to work harder to get where I wanted. But now I'm glad because I learned so much discipline along the way that is so incredibly valuable. 

So here’s the nexus with what I wrote about yesterday: I had to learn this discipline to compensate for a bona fide “disability” that I didn’t know I had. And now that I know about it and have the help that I now know I need (and I’m not using that word lightly) the discipline that I have already learned will likely enable to me to become a far, far more productive individual than if I had never had this disability in the first place.

And if that is so—only time will tell—I’m grateful for it. But what’s cool is I now have a completely different perspective on my future and what I can do and handle. Thank GOD.

Even Paul had a thorn in the flesh. I think this is one of mine. So be it.

(Day 17)

Weaknesses

It's funny how God can turn your weaknesses around completely.

I was sitting in my first International Finance class tonight and loving it when I thought about how I would have hated that class before. Up until a few years ago I had no interest in financial things.

This showed in my own finances. Actually, between years of car problems, travelling, and college I ended racking up, like so many Americans, credit card debt that plagued my life from before I even turned 18. And then it just grew. I should have paid it off with the funds I earned from working those several highly profitable summers in Alaska, but again I squandered my earnings because I was so terrible at money management. Knowing what I know now I wish I could go back...I would have done a lot of things differently with that money. Ugh.

When I got back from Paris I told God that I would do whatever it took to get rid of pile of debt. To my mind, I thought that meant that maybe He'd provide me with a well-paying job so I could just knock it out. He didn't. Actually, He provided me with rent-free living arrangements for almost a year and then two minimum wage (plus tips) jobs at a coffee shop and a little local French restaurant.

I went to a friend of mine who was a) really good with this kind of thing and b) good at teaching it. It was a very humble moment of my life to take this problem of mine to her. She sat down with me and we came up with a plan. Now that I know how to do it, it's a wonder to me how I could have missed how logical it all is. All that money I wasted...

Anyway I worked for every dollar to pay that debt off. I would come home from being on my feet all day just achey and exhausted physically, and drained relationally (customer service is taxing on the people front). I was in such a waiting period, I remember that year being hard even beyond the debt issue. But I see now that one of the things God was teaching me was the value of a dollar earned. I worked so hard to pay off that chunk of money I'd already spent. I'll never forget that.

I remember I would get off work at the coffee shop or the restaurant and I would deposit every dollar of what ever tips I made. After every shift I was driving up to the ATM near my house and depositing my cash. And then I would write down how much I deposited. Even if it was $20. And then I would literally write down every cent that I spent and scrimped and sacrificed on how and what I ate--and where I ate. Kristie was amazing walking me through that whole thing. It took me only an amazing 10 months.

By the time I had paid it I was working at the DA's office and other things in my life were becoming somewhat clearer too. But, to this day I haven't forgotten that season. And actually I still write down everything I spend. There's something about actually taking the doing the math myself that makes the whole thing click for me. And I've noticed that it's made me start to look at money in general differently.

For instance, I do have to live on loans now through school, but I can't wait to have income when I'm done and pay off all I'm forced to spent to live during this time in school. That thought would never enter my mind in undergrad. Every semester I'm so, so grateful for the amazing scholarship that I was given--every time I see what was written off in my bill. God is good.

I now have no shame in shopping at discount food stores, though I am picky about eating fairly organic, non-processed and stuff. I get what I can cheaply and go elsewhere if I have to afterward. I cook meals ahead of time and eat them all week...I shop at the thrift store and online for the cheapest prices. I have this "being poor" thing down.

But all of that to say that my grueling experience of paying the debt I accrued through thoughtless, irresponsible spending has made me so much more conscious of finances and therefore the financial world that now I find it so interesting I'm actually sitting in an International Finance course in law school. And enjoying it! This never would have happened without that experience.

I'm just amazed at this small little theme of redemption in this sliver of my narrative. He often redeems our weaknesses and often they become our strengths. I wouldn't say finance is a "strength" of mine yet, but who knows, maybe I'll get there.

He doesn't really give up, after all. ;)

(Day 16)

Quinze

Je ne sais pas pourquoi mais ce soir j’ai vraiment envie d’écrire en français…de m’exprimer en français.

C’est peut-être le stress, car c’est vrai que souvent je pense en français quand je suis fatiguée ou quand je suis stressée.

Bon.

J’ai presque survécue la premiere semaine d’école. C’est bien d’être rentrée...je suppose. Mais la meilleure c’est peut-être que j’ai commencé mon nouveau travail à la bibliothèque ce soir. Déjà ça me plaît tellement.

Mais tout ça c’est parler de rien, franchement.

Pourquoi on parle de rien? Est-ce c’est parce que on a peur de ne rien dire? Ou parce qu'on a peur de ne rien communiquer…justement, la silence? Ah no, ne rien communiquer et la silence ce sont pas de même chose. Du tout.

A mon avis on parle souvent "de tout et de rien" parce que c'est plutôt la nature humaine vouloir se connecter avec les autres, d'être en relation. Cependant même si on en a envie on a peur aussi des relations profondes parce que, quoiqu'on veut tellement d'être "vu"--alors d'être vu et entendu (c'est peut-être la chose la plus voulue, la plus recherchée dans l'âme de l'homme) on en a tellement peur. Nous en avons tellement peur parce qu'ou nous avons peur de ne pas être aimer par celle (ou celui) qui nous voit, ou bien parce que nous avons bien encore plus peur que nous n'allons pas nous aimer nous-même quand nous savons que nos imperfections sont connues.

Peut-être. Ou peut-être j'en sais rien.

Bon proposition pour moi en penser de toute façon....pour ma part pour la plupart je déteste chuchoter. 

(Jour 15)

Exhausted

I don't even know what to say but that I'm exhausted--and it was only the first day of school. I have so much on my proverbial plate I hope that I can manage.

They say that 1L year is the worst, but that 2L year is busy. I'm looking at my schedule and this is already true.

Hopefully I'll have something of substance to say tomorrow. But yawning as I type this sentence.

Bonne nuit.

(Jour 14)

Italy, Get Used to Me (More on This Later)

I spent most of the day extremely stressed out. School starts tomorrow and I'm nowhere near as prepared as I wanted to feel.

Oh well.

There's that and the fact that my head was in Italy, all day, all the while I was trying to cook, clean, read, and generally get organized for this upcoming week. The result was not as much success as I'd like, but whatever. It's hard to bring my head back from Italy when I get into the stream of thoughts....

The word "heartache" is not a misnomer. Sometimes there is a little (or significant) bit of physical pain that accompanies or results from emotional pain. It's a thing.

Today that happened for Italy. It happened because I miss it and because so much was left unresolved. I don't have any answers and I think that's what hurts the most right now.

God is good. He knows. There will be resolution, it just may not be till eternity. It won't always be like this. I will keep getting out of bed every morning and I will be okay.

That sounds dramatic.

But seriously, it's true.

I will be back in Italy, too. More on this later, but hopefully I'll get that internship this next summer. I don't think that place is going to be relegated to the incongruent corner of my life anymore. Italy, get used to me.

(Day 13)

Little Bit Deeper

Today is another one of those days where I don't have much to say.

But I will say this: I just came back from the best weekend I have yet experienced in Minnesota as long as I've lived here. My first "lake life" experience was absolutely wonderful. This weekend I got to get a peek into even more of my "Minnesota family's" life and it was beautiful. I met Gayle's parents and brother and his family and was warmly welcomed in the their family life. The home on the lake was a wonderfully peaceful spot and the boat time relaxing.

I guess my favorite part is the space that was provided, not just physically, but relationally as well. I had time to really connect with both the girls and also to get to know a little about where Gayle came from. And I had some great conversation with Jamie about the environment and some hotly debated Christian literature, and even Tolstoy, actually. I loved the time and space that the lake created for all of that to happen. I came back a shade darker and with a smile on my face.

I hope I'll be going back to that place. It's special. And, just as I thought it might, Minnesota went a little bit deeper this weekend. I was ready for that. :)

(Day 12)