On “zentangling”, life, and God

I haven’t written anything new over the last few days (though there are many thoughts I’m itching to get on paper), because I’ve been…doodling. A lot.

Apparently, this type of detail-oriented (or should I say “obsessed”?) and geometric doodling has a name — it’s called a “zentangle”. I would not have known this if my colleague hadn’t passed me a Zentangle workbook to pass to Omari, my student who’s currently in the hospital.

Annie the Antisocial Anteater
Annie the Antisocial Anteater
Camille the Capricious Camel
Camille the Capricious Camel
Malcolm the Maladjusted Meerkat
Malcolm the Maladjusted Meerkat

I am hooked, and think I may have figured out the appeal of zengtangling. It’s a lot like life — you can’t erase any of the strokes you’ve made, but you can adapt and build off from those accidents, misfortunes, and mistakes. In the moment, every detail seems random and incongruous with everything else, but at the end of the day you find yourself with a final tapestry much more complex and beautiful than what you could have dreamed up at the beginning.

And it reminds me very much of God’s continuing work in my life and yours. In the words of a very wise priest, God is a skillful impressionist painter — his work can make little to no sense up close, but when you step back you see a masterpiece.

This has been fun and therapeutic for me, but I also connect deeply to the idea of characters who are so fixated with a certain trait that they forget there’s so much more beauty and complexity to them. I’ve seen it in myself, in people struggling with mental illnesses, in my students, and in how people view those who have special needs.

I’m now thinking of putting them on sale as prints/T-shirts/tote bags/iPhone skins on Society6. What do you think?

Today’s most underrated virtue is the most important virtue

“Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues hence, in the soul which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except in mere appearance.”

–St. Augustine

Hello, dear strangers on the same train!

How is it that of 300 or so subscribers to my blog, there are at least a hundred I haven’t met in real life? I definitely wasn’t expecting this when I first started this blog 3 months ago.

Last night, a good friend remarked that this recent post was a breath of fresh air. “It’s nice when you post about less heavy stuff once in a while,” he said. I suppose as blog followers began expanding beyond my little social circle, I subconsciously began cutting out potential posts that would be irrelevant to a readership that probably looks something like this:

blogreadership - Plain

There are other spaces for college rants and food cravings and other self-indulgent posts, I thought, like Facebook. But then I realized, for people who don’t know me in real life, I must come across as either (A) a super intense person,  or (B) someone who takes herself too seriously. Well, in a sense, B is kind of true — I take myself very seriously — but the same way I (try to) take others very seriously, and C.S. Lewis puts it really well: “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization — these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit — immortal horrors or everlasting splendor.” Sorry, that escalated quickly. But seriously, though.

Let me end on a lighthearted note, with another random recording my friend Ben and I made over the weekend.

Colors of the Wind! What could be more lighthearted than Disney? (Maybe try to ignore the possibility that this song could be an environmentalist’s anthem, or an attack on white supremacy…)

But thank you, thank you for your interest in the things I write/post. It’s been a huge encouragement to know that I have thoughts and life experiences that are worth sharing. I’ve greatly enjoyed reading about yours too. 🙂 Even if we don’t know each other, I’m thankful for the common calling(s) we share, wherever you find yourself in that Venn diagram.

“As we turn to …

“As we turn to the fundamental principles of physics, we discover that order does not really emerge from chaos, as we might naively assume; it always emerges from greater and more impressive order already present at a deeper level. . . . The simplicity to which scientific reductionism leads us, then, is of a very paradoxical kind. It is a simplicity that is by no means simpleminded.”

–Stephen M. Barr in Fearful Symmetries