Superwhatever

Tuesday night was a Palette meeting, a fun way of saying that a bunch of people from Vintage Faith got together and talked about art. At this particular meeting, Cheryl asked each of us what we are doing to stay creative, then noted that each of us sort of lit up as we talked about what we love doing. Meetings, and life in general, can be especially draining and as creative people I think we experience this drain in a harsher way than others. I know I do. I've felt drained for weeks. Palette meetings are always invigorating, and I'm starting to see them as very integral to my creativity in general.

After the meeting, Liz and I stayed to talk with Dan for a while. I am constantly amazed by that guy, as unsuspecting as he is. On the surface the last thing you'd expect to learn about him is that he's a pastor, but it makes perfect sense if you get to know him. Dan is one of the most genuine, caring people I have ever met. This has become more aware to me over the past few weeks. You ever call someone to ask them a question, and as soon as it's answered just say goodbye and hang up ? I had to call Dan a few weeks ago to go over some stuff that I was going to speak about to our church the next day. I fully expected Dan to just ask me the questions, let me answer, thank me and hang up. Instead, I was surprised to find that he asked about my day and what I was doing, and for some reason we talked about television shows and how I am "obsessed" with Rob Bell. He actually got to know the person on the other line.

I am so used to meeting people, encountering them as they enter my world, as though they are temporary. It startles me when I meet people who stop and say, you are permanent. You are not matter, you do matter. You're not just visiting, you are here.

We talked for a little while and then went to the parking lot outside my car to find that I left my lights on and the battery had drained. Dan offered to jump my car (one of the greatest idioms of the English language, I would love to have to explain that to a foreign tourist) and though it took a while, he didn't seem to be frustrated. I was frustrated, and I was embarrassed, but I think Dan wanted my car to start even more than I did.

Somehow, that was validating to me. He startled me by letting me know he was my friend, by talking to me and waiting with my and starting my car. He took care of me and in doing so, let me know that I do matter.


Though it was late, Jonathan and Daniel asked me to spend time with them after the adventure with the car and I took them up on the offer. I talked with Jonathan for a while and watched him take some aggression out on a cup that [supposedly] Daniel once told him he couldn't use. I tried to go home around 1 and slipped away to say goodnight to Daniel, for a reason I couldn't understand; He'd already said goodnight, and I didn't have anything to tell him, but I wasn't satisfied with just that. I needed more. After we sat and talked for an hour and a half, I figured it out. I needed to talk to someone. It had been so long since I just sat with someone and talked about our problems and our lives. I wanted to hear someone respond to me and I wanted permission to exist. My little battery was drained and I needed a jump.

He told me how important I am to his brother. How important I am to him. How my thoughts matter to him. How I am loved. How I am...here. I am here.

I've been performing functions. I've been lost in this coffeehouse stuff, trying to go to school, repairing or recovering from friendships, becoming a supersomething. I don't know where I got this idea that I needed to be consumed by that which occupies my time. I got wrapped up in things and I stopped being who I was created to be. Through Dan and Daniel, I broke down my barrier between me and my superwhatever, and got to go outside and kill it.

I would say that I feel validated, but not because I was seeking approval and that it was granted to me in a superficial way. I'm not trying to be cool (Daniel says I will never be cool; cool people "don't notice anything" and I am far too observant). It wasn't my ego that needed it, it was my soul.

I am so, so happy right now. No coffeehouse stress. No school stress. No loneliness, no fears. Just peace. I am so, so happy.