Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Creation and Community


I hate flying. I hate to admit that I hate flying. But there it is. I despise going on airplanes.

I so often wish I could focus on my self-made persona of the superbly confident, adventurous, carefree Courtney that perhaps some of you know in part. This Courtney bikes across the country, excelled as a collegiate athlete and is a social justice warrior! Wahoo! Who can stop her? Flying? Please...this Courtney is just waiting for her next opportunity to travel to New Zealand, where after a week of backpacking with her handsome hubby, they'll top the week off with a meeting at terminal velocity. Sky diving, that's right. Just another check on the bucket list.

Well dear readers, it seems this is just not the reality for me most days. I am actually holding back the urge to vomit all over my keyboard just thinking about skydiving. Terminal velocity? I'd rather not, thank you. Here's the truth of the matter, my secret's out - throw this girl 37,000 feet in the air in a large metal tube with wings and Courtney Beck becomes like a mouse stuck between a wall and a very large and hungry cat. No, no. A LION.

I cannot pin down the date or time that I decided airplane travel was so horrid. I fly often enough. I do recall suggesting to my parents at the age of 7 that a family trip to Paris might not be in our best interests. "You have to FLY. Over the Ocean!" Fortunately for my parents, frequent flyers that they were, knew better and I was shortly on a 10pm flight out of Washington Dulles to Paris. Perfect for a 7 year old who was not only flying during her normal sleep hours but also still short and limber enough to curl up into those horrible airplane seats for the 7 hour transatlantic flight. I still have fond memories of that trip. The Mona Lisa! The Eiffel Tower! Incredible body odor! (Suggested Career move for those on the hunt: European Sales Director for Secret Deodorant. "Strong enough for a man. Highly recommended for Europeans.")

I will not bore you with the details of my past. I'll only suggest to you that an emotionally tumultuous freshman and sophomore year of college left me well acquainted with the great powers of our adrenal systems. I was a stressed out over achiever trying to handle crazy workouts, crazy professors and a family trauma that was far over my ability to digest. It was just too much for my body and Mr. Adrenal gland had ENOUGH. I now affectionately call him "Mr. A."

Its been a long road since Mr. A and I first met but we continue to figure out how to communicate. Or ignore each other. I used to all but internally combust before I had to give a speech in front of a class or a group of people at work. You might know how it goes...sweating palms, heart coming out of your chest, feeling faint. Mouse in front of lion. But Mr. A and I now get along in a crowd. I beat the living daylights out of him one time when I successfully addressed 200 families in need of homes. 25 minutes of talking without a hitch. BOOYAH!

All this said, there are still mountains to climb at times. My brain is now conveniently over-sensitized to panic inducing situations so it didn't take long before a trip on an airplane became new stomping ground for us to conquer. Tight space. Recycled Air. It makes me claustrophobic just thinking about it.

I write all of this, not as the inside scoop on Courtney's trip down "panic attack lane" but rather as a testament to what I have learned and am learning through it all.

Last week as I prepared for a trip back east (courtesy of Southwest Air), I found myself taking a lot of long walks in anticipation of my trip. Its times like these when I find fear creeping up in my throat that I start to take long walks to catch my breath. Not easy when "super achiever Courtney" wants to ignore the fear and get over it. Ignoring it really just makes my fears loom larger because I haven't acknowledge that which I am afraid of. Its like ignoring a dog that has to go to the bathroom. The longer you ignore her the more annoying she becomes. Ignore her long enough and she's made a mess of your brand new carpet.

On one particular walk I found myself sitting on the beach with Nellie the dog at my feet. I was seeking communion time with God and I needed His presence. I was at a loss for any formal prayer to ask, knowing that my prayer so often turns into a list of things I need or people I want remembered on God's holy list. What came to mind out of sheer exhaustion and frustration was the most basic of all human questions. "Why am I here?" I was so frustrated and nervous about the next day's flight and that was about as profound as I could get in the moment. I let that sit in my mind and looked out to see the most enormous flock of birds in a feeding frenzy out in the Gulf. Pelicans and sea gulls and pink birds and white birds all of whom I cannot yet identify had found some sort of food "mecca" out in the water and were diving and squawking and singing with delight. In a small way, I knew God was answering back to me that he wanted me to enjoy the glory of his creation. Just as He does.

I then asked. 'But is that enough?" I let question hang for a bit and looked further to see the folks in different patches of the beach. Families and groups of friends enjoying a dip in the ocean before another day ended. I kept watching and realized after some time had passed that no one on that entire beach was by themselves. Some teenagers were throwing a football and goofing around on the sand. A mom and her two kids were building sand castles. I kept my eyes on a brother and sister out in the water and could hear their laughing from the sand where I was. It was like another holy whisper to suggest: "It is enough because you do not experience this alone. It is enough because you share in it with me and with the community I have given you."

I'd like to wrap this story up and say that this experience was just enough to perk me up and get me on the plane without a hitch. Not exactly. I was still afraid. I cried on the way to the airport. I wouldn't let Andy hug me too long when he dropped me off because I knew I would lose it and be a crying mess when I got to baggage.

The thing I experienced however was the joy I eventually gleaned from my ability to fly even while I was still afraid. I got on that airplane with my whole "fight or flight" system screaming at me to get off. I thought my heart was going to explode. Within 20 minutes however we were up in the air and I realized "I am doing it." The dreaded 37,000 foot altitude was actually one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in a long time with huge billowing clouds stretched out before us. I was soon chatting away with my neighbor, a big bellied man with the warmest smile and a neon green John Deer hat. He works on oil rigs off the Gulf and gave me the inside scoop on how they work and what he thinks "actually happened" to cause the BP oil spill. Conspiracy theories abounded :-).

As if it wasn't enough to have a pleasant flight, I was blessed once more with an incredible trip back home. We took visits with our dearest friends and took part in the most amazing wedding of two great friends. I got to celebrate a year of life with my nephew and our family and see my incredible cousin Stasia who is such a model of courage. I don't want to even think about what I might have felt if I had let fear keep me on the ground.

So in the end, I continue to come back to wisdom that hits me over and over again as I continue to figure this life out. Our human nature is to run when the hard stuff hits. I can't count the number of times I've hatched elaborate "escape plans" in my mind for various anxiety producing situations. I remember telling Andy that the only reason I didn't want to move to Texas was because we would now be quadrupling our yearly flying requirements. He laughed, and so did I. What a terrible reason to skip out on God's best laid plans. Our spiritual nature, that part of us that is aligned with God, urges us to step out in faith that it will all be OK. If we can choose to trust. It will not be comfortable. It may even be wickedly painful. For me, however, nothing could compare to the pain I would have experienced if I didn't board that plane. This weekend was so life giving...I was in the midst of God's beloved created ones, my God-given community, enjoying every precious second. Some are memories I know I will hold with me and share with others for a long, long time. What a gift.


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

I wasn't Born in Texas but I got here as Fast as I Could...




OK, so if you read my title you are probably thinking that I have gone off the deep end. And perhaps I have! This is a common phrase on bumper stickers and from the mouths of Texan transplants. It cracks me up and for the first time in this past month I am sensing mini moments in my days where I make two concurrent recognitions: 1. I live on an island in Texas. 2. ...and I am kind of starting to like it.

There is something charming about Texas and this historic island. For example:

1. This weekend I had an opportunity to head to the beach with Kyla, Alan and their two daughters Ava and Micah. Andy was back home for the weekend with family and I found myself reaching out to some newly found friends at our church to see what adventures we could get into. Kyla mentioned the annual sand castle competition at East Beach and I was more than happy to join her and her gorgeous family. The most endearing part about it was not so much the sand castles but getting to know Kyla!

Her Dad is a cotton farmer in west Texas near Lubbock. She was raised on a farm and is quick to suggest that Galveston "is not Texas." In "Texas" people honk their horns at passing cars only to say "hi" not to acknowledge her "I was taught to drive in the middle of a pasture where the closest thing to a roadway line is a field of cotton" driving skills. Her brothers all wear cowboy hats and jeans and an overheard phone call with her sister is punctuated regularly by the most beautiful southern "ya'll" i have heard yet!

2. Bootstraps. No east coasters...I do not have plan on joining the Republican party anytime soon. BUT, I love the perspective that living in Texas is giving me. Even just 45 minutes outside of urban Houston, the overwhelming sentiment in Galveston is "pick yourself up by your bootstraps, be an entrepreneur and work your everlasting tail off!" In many ways it reminds me of my trek across the country in 2005 when I developed such a new outlook on the United Sates and a love for our country and the people who make it tick. There is this very tangible spirit here that is really rooted in the American ideal of scrapping together what you can to make a better life for your family.

I do not wish to push some of the blatant ignorance I have seen exposed under the rug. Working for the housing authority, I am seeing and hearing ALOT of false impressions of how impoverished families and communities function. That sadeens me very deeply. It is something I contemplate regularly and push back on in conversation with my neighbors and friends regularly.

At the same time, my new friends are opening up a window into my political views that help me to internalize the other side of the scale. I have been tempted, more often than ever before, to head out to Walmart and grab an American flag. In fact, come July 4th, I will surely have to make this happen! In other countries, you are often a success or failure based on the family you are born into. We are not perfect, but I am proud to know that hard work can in so many ways dictate your success in life's endeavors here in the United States.

3. Porch sitting, mosquito swatting, sweaty, swealtering Texas. So...my tone could change in August. It is only June and the heat has only just begun. BUT, with the help of a new historic rental home, Andy and I are learning the pure joy of a post work cocktail before firing up the grill. At some point soon I will surely share the incredible grace behind our recent move across the street. I think I am still processing the gift and cannot yet put everything into words. More to come there...

In our first week at a new house, we have already felt a new sense of peace coming over us. Or is it the effect of the vodka? Ha! Our very best southern friends from back north, the Parkers, introduced us to the joy of an evening cocktail while back in Baltimore. Far from a daily occurrence, we are finding that from time to time we need to forget the evening trip to the gym, turn off the computers and head outside with a nice cold refreshment. There is an incredible beach breeze on this side of the street that we didn't know existed until we moved. The owners left two white rocking chairs on the front porch and we are now prone to lingering in the shade watching the palm trees in the breeze. I know, totally gross. Who watches palm trees?

I never understood the southern draw that Darren and Heather love so much. The heat and southern slowness sounded repulsive to my east coast, fast paced, air condidtioned brain. I typically defer to room temperature glass of wine over an ice cold cocktail. People change though...don't they? :-)

So thats the update for June. I've been here about 6 months and I am having these wonderful glimmers that suggest we can really make some awesome memories here. A year ago I was stunned to think we would be moving to "the republic." Now I am learning the truths and the lies behind the stereotypes and am having a great time figuring out what Texas actually looks and feels like to me.