Trusting God through pain

I am currently having a lot of pain in my wrists, fingers, arms and hands. I'm pretty sure its RSI, from typing.

It has been frustrating. I miss blogging. But the other day I was looking through my old textbook for 'Introduction to Pastoral Care' and I saw what I had written on the front page:

'I know I can trust Him through pain.'

He is  what I am holding onto. I can get through these assignments. He has always looked after me. I have always been provided for. 

I know I can trust him through pain.

I'm not really a Christmas person, or expect/get presents, but if I was to, here is my wishlist. Or, just things I want in general.

1. A New Zealand Prayer Book
2. A watch. I haven't owned one since my grandma brought me back a red one from Switzerland when I was eight.
3. A white duvet cover.
4. Perfume. I have never ever owned my own perfume.
5. A good office chair. Adjustable, good for long periods of study. I think this is what my parents are going to help me buy this Christmas.
6. Driving lessons.
7. Practical things.
8. Good, sturdy, beautiful black leather heels with a hearty strap/buckle.


Never ever buy me


1. Photoframes. 

Lord, it is night.

The night is for stillness. Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day. What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done; let it be.

The night is dark. Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet. Let the quietness of your peace enfold us, all dear to us, and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn. Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.

In your name we pray. Amen.

-From The New Zealand Prayer Book

I'm ashamed to be a New Zealander.

For my non-New Zealand readers, Paul Henry is a prominent New Zealand TV current affairs host, known for his controversial remarks. He has just been stood down from his Breakfast show for the latter of two incidents: first he pronounced Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit's name, despite being told it is said "Dixit". He also said the name "Dick Shit" is "so appropriate" because she is Indian. He repeatedly called her "the dip shit woman" and "Dick Shit", going on to state that "it's so appropriate, because she's Indian, so she'd be dick-in-shit wouldn't she, do you know what I mean? Walking along the street... it's just so funny." He mocked her relentlessly, laughing and saying it over and over over. 

Secondly, in an interview with NZ Prime Minister John Key, he asked him if Indian-origin Governor-General, Sir Anand Satyanand, was "even a New Zealander" and whether the next governor-general would "look and sound like a New Zealander". This provoked hundreds and hundreds of complaints to the Broadcasting Standards Authority. There were protests and multiple online groups set up both praising and opposing Paul Henry, and people saying they would boycott TVNZ until they sacked/brought back Paul Henry to TV.

Soon after the incident was publicised, TVNZ, and a lot of (white) NZers, bombarded the internet saying

'He is only saying what we are all thinking. Get over it.'

Since when did Paul Henry speak for me?

If the majority of New Zealand thinks you must be WHITE to be a 'real' New Zealander, then I am ashamed to be a New Zealander.

If being a New Zealander means mocking non-English names, then I am ashamed to be a New Zealander.

if being a 'New Zealander' means believing and vocalising that people of other races and colours are not New Zealanders, even if they are born and raised here, then I am really ashamed to be a New Zealander. 

More than anything, I am ashamed to be a white New Zealander. My ancestors came to New Zealand on a boat from England in the 1840s. Whether your parents came to New Zealand on a plane twenty years ago makes you no less of a New Zealander than I am. You call New Zealand home? Cool. Same. 

I believe in freedom of speech, I do. So it makes it worse that Paul Henry is on a publically-funded channel, where many New Zealanders of all colours and races and background, pay him to spawn his remarks.  Once I was picked up by a racist as guy when hitchhiking. He ranted at me and Wilbur about killing immigrants. But that was in his own car. Still sickening, but not PAID FOR BY ME. NOT endorsed by government. The fact that TVNZ would defend him makes it more the worse.

In the last census, where it asked for my ethnicity, I didn't tick 'NZ European/Pakeha' like a white-girl-with-English-ancestors-way-back girl is meant to do, instead I ticked 'other' and wrote 'New Zealander'. People said I was being pretentious. But this whole 'what a New Zealander is' topic needs some discussion. I, nor my family, feel no affiliation with England. (I personally think NZ should become a republic, but that is a whole other discussion) I am a New Zealander. Where my ancestors come from, I see, is irrevelant. I was born here and educated here. So was the Governor-General. Oh, he looks Indian? Cool. We both call New Zealand home. 

(I met the Governor-General at the NZ Schools' Debating Champs last year, and he was also surrounded by ignorant racism. In the 'thank-yous-and-memories' speeches at the end, one high-school debater gave a speech full of racist, embarrassing comments.. personal stuff too, about his Middle Eastern coach being a terrorist etc. and worse. We were in the House of Government, entry-by-security-list only, in the presence of the GOVERNOR-GENERAL (higher than the Prime Minister) and this happened. In the end people started ringing bells to stop it. There were a lot of shocked faces. It was bad, bad, bad.

After this happened, I was standing in a small group with Udayan, my debating coach, who is Indian , and the Governor-General, Sir Anand, who is Fijian-Anglo-Indian also. From what I recall, Udayan asked Sir Anand, or apologised about it, or something. I have never forgotten what he said.

'Well, if you permit freedom of speech, you have to be prepared for the smörgåsbord that comes with it.'

I was surprised by how well he took it. But that racism was coming from a 17-year-old high school student, not an established TV host being funded by the public and government of New Zealand.)


NEW ZEALAND SORT IT OUT.

Note to self.

Do not live alone, in the suburbs, without a car, ever. 


This weekend all my flatmates are away. I am pretty much living alone. Two days. Whatever. But it just gets a bit crazy. Like Luke said: 'There is a quiet happiness that comes from having other people nearby.' When others aren't around I don't eat, just fill myself up on corn chips and snack food (which I never do, otherwise) and sit online and get sore eyes. That's actually my life. How sad. I suppose the thought of boring assignments makes this time alone more depressing. A few months ago I had a weekend alone and drank a bottle of wine over two days and wrote sad stories about alcoholic old women and fell asleep. Perhaps if I lived alone for  a long time I would become an alcoholic. No. But. These things make me wonder.


It's funny, because I really enjoy being alone. Perhaps it depends on the environment, as to whether being alone is constructive or destructive. I enjoy being alone in my room. All night, even. I do find my room an inspiring environment whereas the rest of this house I do not find inspiring. Being alone I can be super energetic and creative and thoughtful. I dance around. I write and read. I paint poems. I plan things. I plan my life. I am ambitious and encouraging (if only to myself) I like solitude. Even for a long period of time. Perhaps it is just destructive this time because I have work to do and so the alone time is always procrastination, which is always bad and destructive. Yes.


I say do not live alone, without a car, in the suburbs, because that is a lot more isolated than living alone in a city. I am a person of extremes. I love solitude and I love crazy packed social times. I hope I get into my planned hostel for next year because I will be able to walk out my door and be in the middle of the city. Wander to Cuba Street and meet up with a friend. Or find some strangers or homeless people to sit with. See?


Maybe it is just in this suburb I feel isolated. The majority of my good friends in Auckland are not accessible by good public transport, and at least a fifteen minute drive away. But I do not drive, see. This is another thing I have been thinking about. I WANT TO DRIVE. On Sunday, my friend Paul gave me a driving lesson in his manual car around the suburb of Waterview. I DROVE A MANUAL IN AUCKLAND. The first time I have driven in suburbia. I enjoyed it, because I really enjoy learning new skills, being practical. Perhaps I am looking towards wholeness, to be some sort of Renaissance man. Woman. That. I am going to grab random driving lessons where I can because I do not really have one consistent teacher I can depend on. So ask a lot of people for a little lesson. 


Conclusions:
1. Days of aloneness without structure involve self-neglect and laziness. Don't live alone because of that.
2. Not having a car increases isolation by a lot so learn to drive.
3. Living in the suburbs, without a good community around you, suck. So don't live alone because of that. Or, rather, live in a good community.


In my lifetime I would like to live in
1. A rural commune. Just for a time. The combination between the opportunity for rural solitude and community everywhere is quite appealing.
2. Flat. Multiple flats. This is kind of a flat but not my ideal. But not too much in suburbia.
3. Lots of other places too.


I suppose my key thought is the importance of friends. I am good at having lots of good friends, in an individual sense. But I think it is important to have a community of friends who care for you and each other. I haven't really been so good at that. Gonna work on that. Note to self, again. That requires commitment to an area. I am writing about that for my essay on Wellington, entitled: 'What I learnt.' 


I love people. I like people. I really really really do. I have been thinking recently about the topic of dating and marriage, which is kind of uncommon for me, but a topic for someplace else.


My fingers have been quite painful lately which worries me because Taylor has tendonosis and can't really type without pain and I DON'T WANT THAT. Poor Taylor. The conclusion of that matter is to type my assignments quick before my computer and fingers die. 


I told my parents about my law enrollment  and of course, like my parents are, they were just like 'oh okay'. I like that about my parents. We have never really talked about education and I like it that way. I couldn't ask for parents less reactant when it comes to my educational decisions. I can't even emulate the conversation on this blog. They didn't even say 'oh okay'. They just.. metaphorically nodded and asked what the degree was called. 


A Bachelor of Laws. Did you know, Mum? 
Oh, that's nice, Sonya. What's the other thing you're doing called? The one with English?
Bachelor of Arts, Mum. Don't worry, I'm not dropping that.
Yes, Arts. If you're in Wellington for five years it means if you met a nice young man you could commit to a long-term relationship. 
Yes, Mum. 
Well, that's nice. 
Yeah, I suppose it is. It'd be nice to be someone's one and only.


I love my Mum.

Snapshot of a Stressed Sojas

1. My computer is dying. Constant spazz attacks, error messages and refusals to turn on are driving me mad.This is more than a slight problem. If it dies for good I will be more than mildly screwed. I have four weeks left of semester. This problem is heightened due to college's bad computers which don't even have Microsoft Word.


2. I am behind on multiple assignments. (See above) I had two due last week which I have not done. I should never blame my lecturers but it would help if they cared more about deadlines. I say the assignments were due, but my grades are not affected if they are late. This is bad for me because I am a future-minded person who constantly analyses history and how it will impact the future. I can see the last few weeks being madness. 


3. My funds are going down. And down. If we wanted to be technical about it, I am in debt, but because we are not being technical, I am just worried. This is also a problem due to problem one. If computer dies I have no money to replace it. 


4. My room is a tip. This is more of  a problem than the rest because it impedes my mental state. Severely. If we wanted to be anal we would explain this by using the enneagram. I am a 7 (optimist) When under stress I become a 1 (super perfectionist) and when healthy I become more of a five (Thinker) I sit on the floor of my bedroom and just freak out. Because I would want to clean every part of it, from all the books, to my filing folders of important documents, to my make-up. I am not normally this bad but when under stress it drives me crazy. Most of today I just wandered around like a zombie feeling overwhelmed by my bedroom.


Today I put on full make-up under the guise that this would motivate me to be productive. Instead I found myself drinking green tea and lying on my bedroom floor swearing to myself.
Am I crazy? Arg. Arg. Arg. This computer is sooooo slow. One tab at a time.


GOOD THINGS.
1. I skyped ALEX FELT last night and as usual we talked feminist feminist feminist. SKYPE worked. Kind of. Kept crashing but I could call.
2. I'm getting feet things. Orthotics? Yeah them.
3. I must be mad because I called my parents but forgot to tell them
 a)I have dyed my hair (almost) black and
 b)have enrolled in a law degree.
These things must be unimportant.
Oh girl.
Come on now.
Get it together.


Really I just want to learn to drive! I like driving! Arg. Arg. Arg.