Giving Thanks

 1) Christmas came to our apartment
 2) Traditional daddy-daughter breakfast
 3) Makings of an apple pie
 4) Fermented grape goodness that was shared
 5) A lovely aunt
 6) Shelling pecans on Thanksgiving Eve
 7) The Bird
 8) The Feast
 9) Coffee and lipstick: a match made in Thanksgiving heaven
10) Friends being friends
11) Christmas carol station (can't you tell?)
12) The first of the leftovers: Turkey, brie, and cranberry sauce sandwich
13) Bedlam

The Art of Resting

"Rest and be thankful." - William Wordsworth

Rest. It's an elusive concept that seems incredibly desirous in theory, but is rarely attainable in practice.  As a college student, it seems that I am constantly striving for the next weekend, the next break, the end of the semester, when I might possibly attain a brief reprieve from the rat race of university life.  However, as soon as I reach the goal, I am worrying about what work the new week brings: the papers I still have to write, the laundry I have to find time to do, the friends I want to spend time with, the success that I must achieve in all of these areas.  It sometimes feels like a never-ending cycle of working toward but never being fully satisfied with the results.  I am in constant motion: mentally, emotionally, and physically.  Where is the rest and satisfaction that my poor overwhelmed heart so deeply desires???

After much consideration - consideration meaning five semesters worth of exhaustion, emotional break downs, and a self-esteem roller coaster ride  fueled by whatever grades and friends I did (or didn't) have - I decided to endeavor to practice the art of resting.  This is not an easy undertaking. When constantly bombarded by a culture telling you that success only comes through beauty, intelligence, a Masters, PhD, life-consuming career, and maybe a trophy-family stuck somewhere in there between the PhD and career, you begin to believe the mantras like, "You can sleep when you're dead." We college students are often so guilty of buying into these lies in hopes of attaining  our dream of the perfect future - during which there will clearly be ample time for rest, thank you! Sure. - that we drive ourselves right into the ground.

So, in an attempt to truly learn what Rest means, I am taking a break every Sunday.  I know that this concept may not seem so novel, what with the whole idea of the Sabbath being around since the creation of the world and whatnot, but it is a much more difficult discipline than I expected. My desire to over achieve, get ahead, and fill my time is not overcome by simply telling myself, "Don't worry, this is your day off. Chill." As a matter of fact, initially, the break set those impulses into overdrive. But through consistent practice in letting tomorrow worry about itself, the enjoyment of fellowship, and a delight in simply taking a walk or reading a book on a Sunday afternoon (things that I rarely allow myself the opportunity to do during my 26.2 mi. weekly sprint), I am able to truly rest. Although force is sometimes necessary, this Day of Rest prepares me for the coming week, no less full of papers, exams, homework, chores, and social obligations. My heart drinks in Rest and is satisfied.

A Little Inspiration for your Monday

MANIFESTO: THE MAD FARMER LIBERATION FRONT by Wendell Berry Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. Want more of everything made. Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die. And you will have a window in your head. Not even your future will be a mystery any more. Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer. When they want you to buy something they will call you. When they want you to die for profit they will let you know. So, friends, every day do something that won't compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. Denounce the government and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands. Give your approval to all you cannot understand. Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed. Ask the questions that have no answers. Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias. Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant, that you will not live to harvest. Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold. Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years. Listen to carrion--put your ear close, and hear the faint chattering of the songs that are to come. Expect the end of the world. Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts. So long as women do not go cheap for power, please women more than men. Ask yourself: Will this satisfy a woman satisfied to bear a child? Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth? Go with your love to the fields. Lie down in the shade. Rest your head in her lap. Swear allegiance to what is nighest your thoughts. As soon as the generals and politicos can predict the motions of your mind, lose it. Leave it as a sign to mark the false trail, the way you didn't go. Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice Resurrection.

Copyright Wendell Berry

Contemplations on the Vortex, Which is College

On Wednesday afternoon, I bumped into an old friend in a coffee shop. Sounds pretty normal, right? Well, kind of. This particular friend is one who I had resigned to a very specific role as a character in the drama that was my Freshman year of college, thinking that chances were in favor of us never meeting again this side of heaven (what with him moving to Moldova, joining the Peace Corps, and having traveled half way across the country to come to OSU for graduate school anyway). Suddenly, bludgeoned by the fact that much too much has happened over the last year and a half to catch up in a casual oh-what-a-pleasant-surprise-bumping-into-you-has-been conversation - the coffee shop standard - I fell into quite the contemplative mood.

[Just your average illegal dorm room panini muffin baking]

[Some Freshmen celebrating a Birthday]

I mean, I was the same girl talking to the same guy as when we met a little over two years ago, but I am a completely different Caity Kullen than the one I was then. Somehow, over the a two year period, I ended up being sucked into the Vortex that is University Time. Majors, relationship statuses, and dwelling places have changed a time or two. And I am far wiser and far stupider all at the same time. I have grown out of the How I Met Your Mother watching, the kitchen two-stepping lessons, the afternoon pecan pie baking, the car pranking, the up-all-night-ing, the every Wednesday game nights,  the mass consumption of Marshmallow Mateys (probably to the benefit of my figure as well as my overall health), and the terrifying feeling of facing my first real life failures. 

[Freshmen]

[Sophomores]

Growing up happens through all the fun and adventures you can dream up as a College Freshman. Growing and changing in all of it. I barely recognize that girl trudging up the 11 flights of stairs to her Drummond dorm room, the one sitting on her bed, eating a ham sandwich from 20 Something that she "forgot" she didn't like, the one trying so hard. But I still know her. And from a momentary pause in the Vortex, I think she'll be alright.

[Juniors]

On a much less disgustingly nostalgic note, here's a tip to spice up your brownie baking life from my lovely roommate and friend, THE Miss Laura Rusco:

After making your favorite brownie recipe from scratch (or a box, let's be realistic here), lay peppermint patties atop your chocolatey bliss and let them get all melty and stuff. In order to speed up the process, you can put the brownies back in the still-warm oven for a few minutes.

I promise, your brownies will be a huge hit. At least they were at our girls' night last night!