A Thinking Day

Like every morning, I rolled out of bed and onto my knees this morning to dedicate the day to His glory and renown.  I'll go to bed tonight understanding exactly what that promise means.

One of my personal, self-directed pet peeves is my own indecisiveness.  I have those days, you know, where every decision is monumental and impossible.  I get caught in the cross traffic of emotions and logic -- and even if the two are flowing in the same direction, I can become so mesmerized by the speed that I stand with wide feet and weight dropped like an awestruck tourist.  (I would know.  Forget not that these are the chronicles of a Kentuckian in Queens.)

It was one of those mornings, with the question of "to run" or "not to run" in the a.m. stealing a good fifteen minutes (where did 5:45 to 6:00 go anyway?).  The (albiet small) threat of evening rain on the Weather app I don't trust anyway messed with my plans (bagel shop in the morning, run in the evening), and I kind of stood gaping, as if incapable of solution generation or sentient thought.  It was the classic indecision moment when my brain turns to mush.
In reality, it was the perfect morning for a bagel shop(pe) and the perfect evening for a run.  Fresh Meadows, Queens was waking up as I walked through it, and I found a lovely yellow weed flower to carry with me on my way to Bagel Oasis, considered one of the best bagel shops in NYC.  Bagel Oasis, open 24/7/365 since like 1965, was an experience in real New York.  My mind worked way slower than the cashiers talked.  However, I successfully ordered a whole wheat bagel and coffee.  The bagel itself was lackluster, but I can't say that necessarily reflects on the store.  I should have tried the oatmeal bagel or the whole wheat everything--something a little more specialty.  Someone not vegan should give the egg bagels a go.  The exterior didn't have enough chew, and the interior was too bready.  Plus, they're a toasting joint, and they didn't offer to toast mine, so it was cold.  I bet toasted would be better.  However, I loved watching the rush that picked up behind me, all full of accented New Yorkers.  I even met a fella from South Africa!

Almost right across the street, there was a Shell gas station with this little hut of a flower store attached.  So naturally, I approached.  And, lo!  African Violets!  The hut manager hadn't come in yet, and the Shell teller totally didn't know how much African violets ought to cost, so I overpaid for her a smidgeon, but she's a lovely color, in great health, and the perfect hint of liveliness for my windowsill.  Isn't she delightful?  The parents agreed during our top-notch conversation on my way home.

In case you were wondering, I love my work!  This morning, we learned about disaster and emergency preparedness, and I actually found the lesson insightful:

1. In case of fire, take the stairs not the elevator because stairs are naturally fire resistant (cinderblock and metal) and the elevator doors just open; the rider doesn't have enough control to clear the situation in the arrival corridor (i.e. check for heat against the door) before the elevator swings open.

2. There are two types of protection to seek during gunfire: concealment (the first goal) and coverage (to prevent bullets from penetrating you).

3. If out in the middle of the outdoors during a shooting without any access to coverage or concealment, the best last-ditch effort is to play dead among the other victims.  Just make yourself a less easy and obvious target.

Then, we team built by playing charades telephone.  It's exactly as it sounds, and it's a whirlwind.  Next, we discussed how we as operations coordinators can be organizational leaderships in terms of culture, operations, and organizational representation.  (Which, for whatever reason, got me thinking about the balance between preventing burn-out and being an intense worker.)  After, one of our managers spent some time delving into the intense and exciting core member Institute experience, which made me even more psyched for Sunday (move-in day) and imagine what it would feel like to become a core member myself.

After lunch, we finished welcome signs, packed school supply bags, designed playlists, printed bus signs, and brainstormed for a very fun upcoming special event!

Then it was time for my weekly long run, which I'd saved for the evening because my 9 mile route looped me through unfamiliar territory to the Queens Zoo.  I ran through immigrant communities, some sort of China town (complete with bilingual store names and tea cafes with meat buns inside), and part of a lovely park with lots of soccer games.  After many adorable bike-riding families and lots of foreign languages, I found my way to the Queens Museum and the Queens Zoo, victorious.  The run was great, but I have never been more aware of my whiteness.

After my run and my shower (service to humanity) a couple of my coworkers walked with me to the little Jewish grocery across the street for some necessities.  One of the chickadees is the president of UVa's Latino Student Alliance, and we began to discuss access to different communities of color.  Are they safe spaces?  How does an outsider get involved?  Does she have a right to?  An obligation to?  Sometimes I feel as if my racial identity is more defined on the negative (not black, not Latino, not Asian) than on the positive (white).  I actively strive to embrace Appalachian culture because I'm not sure I have a handle on what my ethnic culture would look like, and I admire those whose racial affiliation gain them entry into something as vibrant as much of the black community.

Don't misunderstand: I recognize that my skin color has improved my access and opportunities.  I know that, as much as I hate catcalls for my gender, I'll never have to deal with racial hate crimes perpetrated against me.  In my home country, I won't have people assuming I am (in)capable in a certain avenue because I'm white.  Can't you see why I love my job?  I get to think things like this!  And experience NYC!  And grow with such amazing people!

...like the person of the day Arielle, who could easily have been person of the day earlier in the week because she's a fellow runner.  Arielle is from Indiana, eventually planning on attending med school, but likely after a break (maybe TFA).  She has three younger siblings that she helped raise.  Arielle wins person of the day for going along to the store with me, allowing me to try her delicious drink, dealing boldly with difficult computer programs for her work, and genuinely talking with folks in a way that affirms the conversation unequivocally.

Passage of the Day: Jeremiah 33, which sets up a dichotomy so brilliantly between our rebellion and the just desserts that we've earned and the reality of God's love, redemption, and great grace in the story He's writing in our lives and in the world's story.  I go through so many days completely incognizant of my doubt and rebellion.  How little I trust Him, how much I disobey Him, how impure my heart is in the way I make decisions, view my life, deal with others.  How can I be indecisive when I dedicated my day to God?  How can I stress when I know that my hours don't belong to me anyway?  How can I be adverse to derailed plans (and the culprits) when my plans aren't my own?

There's nothing I hold onto.  I refuse to abuse the creator the Universe.  I am living for His glory and renown.  I pray that when I utter my morning prayer tomorrow, I can understand the gravity and implications of the words I say.