1, 2, 3, nothing. 5, 6, 7, nothing.
The entire hour of my salsa class passed by with the repetition of numbers and nothings. Surprisingly, it was the best hour of my week.
I think everyone picks up some form of partner dancing at some point in their lives from simply watching others or being taught a step or two by a willing partner. I, myself, have been dying for quite a few years now to take an actual class in partner dancing. I know the base for salsa, waltz, and swing already, and when I saw that Partner Dancing fit perfectly into my schedule here in Toulouse I knew I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to build on my meager foundation of prior knowledge.
Walking into class my heart sank.....where were the cute latin guys? I just somehow figured that a partner dancing class would involve latin guys since it's stereotypical that latin guys love to dance. Guess not...
Well that's okay. I've partnered with girl-friends on the dance floor. There's still a lot I can learn by being both the 'boy' and the 'girl'. So, seating myself on the floor I officially entered the class.
Taught by a spry, elderly gentleman, who clearly loved being the only male in the room, and a gorgeous young woman we were shown the basic salsa, samba, and mambo. At first, all twenty of us were uptight. Like robots we mechanically moved from side to side and back to front. Our movement elicited looks of alarm and distaste on the instructors' faces though they tried their best to hide them. On and on droned the two metal sticks our female instructor kept time with - 1, 2, 3 (pause) 5, 6, 7 (pause). Twenty minutes in, hips began to sway, thirty minutes in, smiles began to appear, at forty minutes in, whole bodies were alive with beautiful rhythmic movement. Somewhere between the awkward beginning and the reluctant ending of class we all must have subconsciously decided that we were lovely, powerful ladies who just wanted to move with the music. No judgement, no self-consciousness, no worries....just dancing.
By the end of class, after I gotten the steps down, I felt very 'Dirty Dancing' and fancied myself a pro (at the basics). I walked out of class, put on my music, put in my headphones, and salsa/samba/mambo danced my way home.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
PE - yoga
Yoga. Everyone has heard of it. Most people can even pull off a few poses just from having seen them on the covers of books or DVD's on the subject. Some individuals claim religious ties to their practice of yoga. Others do not. Some religions caution their followers against the practice. It's definitely a hot topic, so I was definitely apprehensive as I entered my first session (at 9 am on a Friday mind you!).
The introduction from the instructor was quick; she wanted to get some actual yoga into our hour and a half time slot. She assured us that if we were looking for meditation or religious history lessons we were in the wrong place. Her class would focus on stretching and strengthening our muscles with the use of various yoga poses and focused breathing techniques. Awesome. Just what I was hoping for.
The class was brutal. I've never worked so hard at striking poses in all of my life! With legs stretched far apart we froze in impossibly deep lunges. Balancing on our just butts we held our arms over our heads and attempted to raise our legs out in front of us so that our body made a 'V'. My body looked exactly like a backwards 'L' instead of the gracefully balanced 'V'. Sitting on the ground (and standing) with knees locked straight we were expected to not only touch our toes but fold our bodies completely in half.
Before yoga class I considered myself a flexible dancer and cheerleader, afterwards I realized I cannot sustain that flexibility for more than a second. Sure my front kicks reach my nose BUT I couldn't stay that way outside of a quick moment. Yoga is going to be amazing at helping me strengthen and sustain the flexibility I already possess.
Despite the difficulty of class, there was also a strange relaxing aspect to it. As we held each pose we were told to focus on breathing in and out of our mouths. With everyone breathing at their own pace it sounded like the soft whooshing of a breeze through trees. From one end of the room to the other one person's inhale would be complimented by the next person's exhale. The atmosphere was very calming though my muscles were dying.
Yoga made me sore, but I look forward to another session!
The introduction from the instructor was quick; she wanted to get some actual yoga into our hour and a half time slot. She assured us that if we were looking for meditation or religious history lessons we were in the wrong place. Her class would focus on stretching and strengthening our muscles with the use of various yoga poses and focused breathing techniques. Awesome. Just what I was hoping for.
The class was brutal. I've never worked so hard at striking poses in all of my life! With legs stretched far apart we froze in impossibly deep lunges. Balancing on our just butts we held our arms over our heads and attempted to raise our legs out in front of us so that our body made a 'V'. My body looked exactly like a backwards 'L' instead of the gracefully balanced 'V'. Sitting on the ground (and standing) with knees locked straight we were expected to not only touch our toes but fold our bodies completely in half.
Before yoga class I considered myself a flexible dancer and cheerleader, afterwards I realized I cannot sustain that flexibility for more than a second. Sure my front kicks reach my nose BUT I couldn't stay that way outside of a quick moment. Yoga is going to be amazing at helping me strengthen and sustain the flexibility I already possess.
Despite the difficulty of class, there was also a strange relaxing aspect to it. As we held each pose we were told to focus on breathing in and out of our mouths. With everyone breathing at their own pace it sounded like the soft whooshing of a breeze through trees. From one end of the room to the other one person's inhale would be complimented by the next person's exhale. The atmosphere was very calming though my muscles were dying.
Yoga made me sore, but I look forward to another session!
PE - Stretching
I walked into my first French PE class a bit nervous. As I looked around I noticed I was the only one in form fitting attire, the only person wearing athletic shorts, and the lone barefoot individual. The other ladies were garbed in baggy t-shirts, black yoga pants or sweat pants and each wore mismatched, colorful socks - even the instructor.
After a lengthy introduction from the instructor and a lecture on using our diaphram, abs, and pelvic muscles, we were instructed to get yoga-type mats from the next room and spread out. Next we were told to lie down on our backs with our eyes closed and simply focus on breathing in through our noses and out through our mouths. At first it was hard to lie still and breathe. Who just focuses on breathing anyway? But slowly I relaxed my muscles and released my entire weight down onto the mat, I focused on removing thoughts of class and homework from my mind, and I forgot where I was. My concentration became centered on inhaling through my nose, the rise of my abdomen, then exhaling, the lowering of my abdomen. I almost fell asleep.
The rest of class was as relaxing as the breathing exercise had been. In various sitting, laying, and standing positions we would tighten certain muscles in our bodies and then release them in tandem with our breathing. Never before have I been completely aware of which muscles are being worked during exercise. The isolation helped me identify which muscles in my body were conditioned and which ones had a hard time staying tightened for even a mere ten seconds.
Stretching class forced me to relax (something that I truly needed after my first week of class) and I loved it! I left class feeling lighter, happier, and ready to take on anything. Surprisingly later that night I was sore! All that tightening and releasing had actually worked my muscles!
As silly as stretching class may sound I cannot wait until this upcoming week's session!
*If you are reading this thinking stretching class was a huge waste of time then you have missed the point.
After a lengthy introduction from the instructor and a lecture on using our diaphram, abs, and pelvic muscles, we were instructed to get yoga-type mats from the next room and spread out. Next we were told to lie down on our backs with our eyes closed and simply focus on breathing in through our noses and out through our mouths. At first it was hard to lie still and breathe. Who just focuses on breathing anyway? But slowly I relaxed my muscles and released my entire weight down onto the mat, I focused on removing thoughts of class and homework from my mind, and I forgot where I was. My concentration became centered on inhaling through my nose, the rise of my abdomen, then exhaling, the lowering of my abdomen. I almost fell asleep.
The rest of class was as relaxing as the breathing exercise had been. In various sitting, laying, and standing positions we would tighten certain muscles in our bodies and then release them in tandem with our breathing. Never before have I been completely aware of which muscles are being worked during exercise. The isolation helped me identify which muscles in my body were conditioned and which ones had a hard time staying tightened for even a mere ten seconds.
Stretching class forced me to relax (something that I truly needed after my first week of class) and I loved it! I left class feeling lighter, happier, and ready to take on anything. Surprisingly later that night I was sore! All that tightening and releasing had actually worked my muscles!
As silly as stretching class may sound I cannot wait until this upcoming week's session!
*If you are reading this thinking stretching class was a huge waste of time then you have missed the point.
Physical Education
Although I said that anyone reading this blog would be discovering Toulouse through my eyes, my eyes lately are a bit limited to the sights and experiences at Le Mirail and my apartment, with little moments of liberty at the park or the grocery store.
I'm taking the GRE general test in exactly one month and a few days after that the English Literature subject test. Studying for the two requires hours set aside each day, a task that would be manageable by itself but becomes a bit difficult when balanced with my new courses at Le Miral (i'll put a post about my new courses soon). So, what's a girl to do when literally all her free time is taken up by studies of some sort? The answer, at least in my case, is to make relaxing something I'm required to do by some authority outside of myself.
At Le Mirail, assuming you aren't an exchange student or on a French government scholarship, students pay 12 euros as a 'sports activity fee'. If you are super competitive and want to join an actual team or you happen to be an arts major, you can sign up for some type of activity/sport/PE in place of an actual course. You'll have to compete of course if you are on the team and if you are taking that activity as a class then you'll be required to have papers or exams on the history of the sport. These individuals are limited to two activities or one sport only.
However, if you are in neither of the aforementioned categories the university allows you to take as many activities as you want 'a loisir' or 'for your own enjoyment'. I had signed up Tuesday, after waiting in line more than an hour and a half, for dance classes; contemporary, jazz, and salsa were calling my name. My lovely schedule was disrupted just that very afternoon by acquiring another class (at the strong encouragement of my Latin professor), and I was forced to drop both contemporary and jazz and trudge my way home quite unhappy.
At home, I looked over the choices that corresponded to the gaps between, before, or after my academic classes and sports that didn't seem expensive. Although the activity fee is paid for, taking 'riding' for example costs an extra 20 euros per week.
So...choices... Aerobics? No way - there's just something about the exercises and the bubbly instructors that gets on my nerves. Aquagym? Me, in a pool, wading around in laps with the elderly professors - that's a big no. Handball? Tried it once, hurt a lot. I think I'll stay away from self-inflicted pain. Martial Arts? no wooden boards for my hands and I'm definitely not into the violent shouting. Tennis? Football (soccer)? Golf? Badminton? Basketball? Swimming? Volleyball? Nope to all of those.
Barre a terre? What's that? I Googled it. Barre a terre or Floor Barre turned out to be ballet done lying on the ground. It sounds easy but after watching a few Youtube videos I realized the opposite would be true. That awful '6 inches' exercise you did as a child where you hover your legs half a foot from the ground and hold them suspended for 30 seconds? Barre a terre would be similar but in motion, with pulses, and the exercises would be way harder on the abs and inner thighs. A definite yes in my book.
Stretching? Is there really a PE just for limbering up? Yes indeed!
Yoga? Never really done it. Seems to be a hot subject in the religious world though....let's see what all the fuss is about.
Salsa still works! Thank goodness some dance where I'm standing up and moving across the floor.
Having chosen my new PE courses and registered for them, by the internet instead of standing in the awful, seemingly never-ending line, I looked forward to the next day when I would have Stretching PE.
I'm taking the GRE general test in exactly one month and a few days after that the English Literature subject test. Studying for the two requires hours set aside each day, a task that would be manageable by itself but becomes a bit difficult when balanced with my new courses at Le Miral (i'll put a post about my new courses soon). So, what's a girl to do when literally all her free time is taken up by studies of some sort? The answer, at least in my case, is to make relaxing something I'm required to do by some authority outside of myself.
At Le Mirail, assuming you aren't an exchange student or on a French government scholarship, students pay 12 euros as a 'sports activity fee'. If you are super competitive and want to join an actual team or you happen to be an arts major, you can sign up for some type of activity/sport/PE in place of an actual course. You'll have to compete of course if you are on the team and if you are taking that activity as a class then you'll be required to have papers or exams on the history of the sport. These individuals are limited to two activities or one sport only.
However, if you are in neither of the aforementioned categories the university allows you to take as many activities as you want 'a loisir' or 'for your own enjoyment'. I had signed up Tuesday, after waiting in line more than an hour and a half, for dance classes; contemporary, jazz, and salsa were calling my name. My lovely schedule was disrupted just that very afternoon by acquiring another class (at the strong encouragement of my Latin professor), and I was forced to drop both contemporary and jazz and trudge my way home quite unhappy.
At home, I looked over the choices that corresponded to the gaps between, before, or after my academic classes and sports that didn't seem expensive. Although the activity fee is paid for, taking 'riding' for example costs an extra 20 euros per week.
So...choices... Aerobics? No way - there's just something about the exercises and the bubbly instructors that gets on my nerves. Aquagym? Me, in a pool, wading around in laps with the elderly professors - that's a big no. Handball? Tried it once, hurt a lot. I think I'll stay away from self-inflicted pain. Martial Arts? no wooden boards for my hands and I'm definitely not into the violent shouting. Tennis? Football (soccer)? Golf? Badminton? Basketball? Swimming? Volleyball? Nope to all of those.
Barre a terre? What's that? I Googled it. Barre a terre or Floor Barre turned out to be ballet done lying on the ground. It sounds easy but after watching a few Youtube videos I realized the opposite would be true. That awful '6 inches' exercise you did as a child where you hover your legs half a foot from the ground and hold them suspended for 30 seconds? Barre a terre would be similar but in motion, with pulses, and the exercises would be way harder on the abs and inner thighs. A definite yes in my book.
Stretching? Is there really a PE just for limbering up? Yes indeed!
Yoga? Never really done it. Seems to be a hot subject in the religious world though....let's see what all the fuss is about.
Salsa still works! Thank goodness some dance where I'm standing up and moving across the floor.
Having chosen my new PE courses and registered for them, by the internet instead of standing in the awful, seemingly never-ending line, I looked forward to the next day when I would have Stretching PE.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Love is Everywhere!
I've always heard that Paris is the city of love, but I'm starting to believe that maybe France is the country of love. Whether eighty or eighteen, French couples are 'ouvert' in their feelings for one another - 'ouvert' means 'open' in french- gotta love the word play between English and French.
America, being the Puritan founded country that it is, strongly discourages PDA (public displays of affection). One can be liberal or conservative, religious, or not, it doesn't matter. If someone sees a couple playing tonsil hockey on the subway the immediate perception is negative. The bizarre part in my mind is that this negativity toward affection is not reserved for unmarried couples alone. Goodness forbid that a married couple has chemistry and cannot keep their hands off one another in the grocery store!
Most Americans have been raised to believe that affection should be for 'behind closed doors'. Hand-holding and hugging are approved of publicly , as is walking with arms around each others' waist. Kisses on the cheek are cute. A quick peck on the lips is for a couples' greeting or parting. Beyond that....well there is no beyond that. It seems to me that it's a curious list and a long one of things you aren't supposed to do in public. So, couples....Don't stare into each others' eyes, 'tongue' is never an option, never put your hand anywhere near anothers' backside. A man should not stand with a woman's backside to his frontside. Women should not sit in mens' laps. Kissing anothers' neck is frowned upon. Caressing the other anywhere but the upper back or the hand is toeing the line. Oh and watch just how high up your hand is on the others' thigh. Should you be in the park on a picnic blanket NO SPOONING and know that one on top of the other is forbidden. I could continue, but anyone reading this probably thinks I'm a proponent of PDA already (which I unashamedly am), so I'll stop.
Here in Toulouse, and everywhere that I've been in France, there is a freedom to love one another such as I've never seen before. Couples do every one of the things that I mentioned above and no one bats and eyelash. In fact, I've seen furtive glances followed by appreciative smiles when a young couple cannot stop staring at each other or an elderly couple kisses on the lips. Perhaps it's because of such freedom that the PDA here doesn't seem so wrong. No one looks guilty kissing another or intertwining some part of their body with anothers'. No one covers their childrens' eyes so they won't be subjected to such 'mature' content. The elderly do not whisper among themselves about 'uncouth youth today'. Teenagers don't wear looks of disgust after seeing any physical interplay between an older couple. Couples are in love. That's it. That's all.
-Tam in Toulouse
America, being the Puritan founded country that it is, strongly discourages PDA (public displays of affection). One can be liberal or conservative, religious, or not, it doesn't matter. If someone sees a couple playing tonsil hockey on the subway the immediate perception is negative. The bizarre part in my mind is that this negativity toward affection is not reserved for unmarried couples alone. Goodness forbid that a married couple has chemistry and cannot keep their hands off one another in the grocery store!
Most Americans have been raised to believe that affection should be for 'behind closed doors'. Hand-holding and hugging are approved of publicly , as is walking with arms around each others' waist. Kisses on the cheek are cute. A quick peck on the lips is for a couples' greeting or parting. Beyond that....well there is no beyond that. It seems to me that it's a curious list and a long one of things you aren't supposed to do in public. So, couples....Don't stare into each others' eyes, 'tongue' is never an option, never put your hand anywhere near anothers' backside. A man should not stand with a woman's backside to his frontside. Women should not sit in mens' laps. Kissing anothers' neck is frowned upon. Caressing the other anywhere but the upper back or the hand is toeing the line. Oh and watch just how high up your hand is on the others' thigh. Should you be in the park on a picnic blanket NO SPOONING and know that one on top of the other is forbidden. I could continue, but anyone reading this probably thinks I'm a proponent of PDA already (which I unashamedly am), so I'll stop.
Here in Toulouse, and everywhere that I've been in France, there is a freedom to love one another such as I've never seen before. Couples do every one of the things that I mentioned above and no one bats and eyelash. In fact, I've seen furtive glances followed by appreciative smiles when a young couple cannot stop staring at each other or an elderly couple kisses on the lips. Perhaps it's because of such freedom that the PDA here doesn't seem so wrong. No one looks guilty kissing another or intertwining some part of their body with anothers'. No one covers their childrens' eyes so they won't be subjected to such 'mature' content. The elderly do not whisper among themselves about 'uncouth youth today'. Teenagers don't wear looks of disgust after seeing any physical interplay between an older couple. Couples are in love. That's it. That's all.
-Tam in Toulouse
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Where's the Grocery Bag?
When I studied abroad in Aix-en-Provence I quickly learned an invaluable European lesson, or a few actually, about grocery shopping.
The Bag: For reasons unbeknownst to me, perhaps being 'green' or forced economic frugality, when you shop in France you must bring your own bag. In America, stores softly encourage shoppers to 'be green' and use their own tote of some sort. However, most Americans shop once a week or once a month, and bringing fifteen of our own bags to the store just seems silly. They provide the bags while we provide revenue. Here in France you either bring your own bag or you pay about 15 cents, and receive an ugly look from the cashier, for each bag needed to carry what you've purchased. They are really thin bags by the way. And don't dare to think that it's worth the money or the annoyance when you are trying to carry ten plastic bags of groceries, your purse, your fragile eggs and bread on and off the metro and through intersections and then the cheap baggie breaks on the sidewalk. Do yourself a favor if you are visiting Europe and you plan on purchasing groceries - bring or buy two good sized, but inexpensive, tote bags with thick straps/handles. They'll weigh nothing in your luggage and provide such a service when you are here.
The Line: No matter what day it is or what time it is expect a line at the grocery store. I've been wondering for weeks why everyone here seems to own an MP3 player (I haven't seen many iPods)....I know now that it is for the constant waiting you will endure in France. Every appointment you have will be running behind, there will always be a line at the grocery store, and each metro ride includes loud talkers or crying babies, but I digress. So, even if you are only getting a couple of things in the store, go ahead and put them in the bag we talked about so your groceries are easier to hold for time spent waiting in line.
Bag it Yourself: In the States some grocery stores still have kind teenagers who bag your groceries and carry them to the car for you. Even if the store lacks such a helpful person it's expected that the cashier is trained in how to organize your bags for optimum efficiency: double bagged sharp items because they tend to break the first layer of bagging, meats with meats so they stay cold, dry goods with dry goods. When you leave America say goodbye to lazy grocery shopping. At checkout here in France you must bag your own items. The cashier is not going to send them down the line in an organized fashion or give you time to get one bag finished before she scans more things you've purchased. She's going to tell you your total and annoyingly hold her open hand in mid-air while you are trying to figure out where to put your eggs. Quick hands is all I can suggest for this situation....and patience. OH! And don't give her the money with the idea that you can just keep bagging once you've been given your change. Once you hand over those euros and the change is handed back your turn is officially over. The cashiers will begin to scan the items of the next person in line. It's a ....delicate, intricate, and trying system in my opinion.
Of course it goes without saying (although I'm saying it) that the store is going to make no sense in how things are organized; bread will be in the sugar aisle and tuna in the vegetable aisle for example. The prices are going to be outrageous (cereal starts at 2.50 euros for a little non-name-brand box of corn flakes and gets more expensive from there). Oh and keep up with how much your items cost and have the money already out, because when you are bagging your own groceries, there is no time to have to dig in your wallet while the other fifteen people in line glare and grumble at your rudeness (how dare you make them wait). Good luck. Shop often and with good humor.
-Tam in Toulouse
The Bag: For reasons unbeknownst to me, perhaps being 'green' or forced economic frugality, when you shop in France you must bring your own bag. In America, stores softly encourage shoppers to 'be green' and use their own tote of some sort. However, most Americans shop once a week or once a month, and bringing fifteen of our own bags to the store just seems silly. They provide the bags while we provide revenue. Here in France you either bring your own bag or you pay about 15 cents, and receive an ugly look from the cashier, for each bag needed to carry what you've purchased. They are really thin bags by the way. And don't dare to think that it's worth the money or the annoyance when you are trying to carry ten plastic bags of groceries, your purse, your fragile eggs and bread on and off the metro and through intersections and then the cheap baggie breaks on the sidewalk. Do yourself a favor if you are visiting Europe and you plan on purchasing groceries - bring or buy two good sized, but inexpensive, tote bags with thick straps/handles. They'll weigh nothing in your luggage and provide such a service when you are here.
The Line: No matter what day it is or what time it is expect a line at the grocery store. I've been wondering for weeks why everyone here seems to own an MP3 player (I haven't seen many iPods)....I know now that it is for the constant waiting you will endure in France. Every appointment you have will be running behind, there will always be a line at the grocery store, and each metro ride includes loud talkers or crying babies, but I digress. So, even if you are only getting a couple of things in the store, go ahead and put them in the bag we talked about so your groceries are easier to hold for time spent waiting in line.
Bag it Yourself: In the States some grocery stores still have kind teenagers who bag your groceries and carry them to the car for you. Even if the store lacks such a helpful person it's expected that the cashier is trained in how to organize your bags for optimum efficiency: double bagged sharp items because they tend to break the first layer of bagging, meats with meats so they stay cold, dry goods with dry goods. When you leave America say goodbye to lazy grocery shopping. At checkout here in France you must bag your own items. The cashier is not going to send them down the line in an organized fashion or give you time to get one bag finished before she scans more things you've purchased. She's going to tell you your total and annoyingly hold her open hand in mid-air while you are trying to figure out where to put your eggs. Quick hands is all I can suggest for this situation....and patience. OH! And don't give her the money with the idea that you can just keep bagging once you've been given your change. Once you hand over those euros and the change is handed back your turn is officially over. The cashiers will begin to scan the items of the next person in line. It's a ....delicate, intricate, and trying system in my opinion.
Of course it goes without saying (although I'm saying it) that the store is going to make no sense in how things are organized; bread will be in the sugar aisle and tuna in the vegetable aisle for example. The prices are going to be outrageous (cereal starts at 2.50 euros for a little non-name-brand box of corn flakes and gets more expensive from there). Oh and keep up with how much your items cost and have the money already out, because when you are bagging your own groceries, there is no time to have to dig in your wallet while the other fifteen people in line glare and grumble at your rudeness (how dare you make them wait). Good luck. Shop often and with good humor.
-Tam in Toulouse
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I am listening
This morning I woke up bursting to write this. I did not ponder it last night while falling asleep or read it in my Bible lately. Yet, this morning, the following thoughts settled in my mind sans (without) provocation or inspiration.
“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Never have I heard a sermon on this tiny old testament verse. Assuredly they exist, but not once have I heard someone speak on 'being still' and knowing God. I'm not trained, nor well read, and I definitely haven't been to church in weeks, but I think I have some thoughts on 'being still' that are honest and should be shared.
From my own conclusions I thought being still had something to do with church. One ought to pay attention during church; don't fidget or be on the cell phone texting or write the cute boy in the next pew a note. I thought that being still meant sitting still enough so that the majesty of God, via the preacher's sermon, could be fully appreciated. To my first understanding of this verse I added another layer eventually. Being still might also mean taking the moment in which God's blessing is made known to you to glorify and acknowledge HIM. Let yourself be immersed by HIS blessing, when you recognize it, thanking him and understanding that HE is the source of such goodness.
This morning, for no reason, I think that small verse has yet another layer. Perhaps it has less to do with our physical dispositions and more to do with our hearts and minds before the Lord. Thanks to an online Hebrew dictionary, I now know that 'being still' is the Hebrew word raphah. It has a dozen meanings but two of them are 'relax' and 'let it go'. When we are still we relax our minds and let go of our troubled hearts (at least that's one way to interpret the verse).
When I pray, I come to God talking, talking, talking. And often, too often, my prayers sound something like this, "Lord I come to you tonight...what is that noise outside? What in the world are those people up to being so loud." or "Lord thank you for the wonderful meal my grams made.... the chicken was really good. She burned it a bit. Maybe she should use a lower setting on the stove top." or "God thank you for this day...tomorrow is going to be so busy. I have that report, need to get groceries, oh and write so-and-so." I never allow the Lord to speak to me. My mind is racing in a hundred directions and I probably couldn't hear God if HE were standing next to me shouting.
Perhaps we should let the Lord talk for once. Just maybe we should sit quietly, allowing God to direct our heart and our mind. I mean completely quietly. No requests for help with a situation or thanks for this blessing or that situation, although glory is certainly due, but rather 'be' (relax & let yourself go) with HIM.
A focusing thought such as "Lord show me please where my spiritual weaknesses are." can open up a lot. You never know what the Lord would like to show you if you'd just allow him the quality time to. Then again, perhaps nothing needs to be said aloud. Maybe giving HIM complete freedom gives us complete opportunity to know his agenda more and ours less.
So, is this meditation. Do I think Christians should meditate? I'm not going to answer such questions, sorry. Why can't a silent, open you simply be 'being still'? So, relax your own worries, questions, and avenues of thought, let go of your own power of speech, be still and know HE is God.
“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Never have I heard a sermon on this tiny old testament verse. Assuredly they exist, but not once have I heard someone speak on 'being still' and knowing God. I'm not trained, nor well read, and I definitely haven't been to church in weeks, but I think I have some thoughts on 'being still' that are honest and should be shared.
From my own conclusions I thought being still had something to do with church. One ought to pay attention during church; don't fidget or be on the cell phone texting or write the cute boy in the next pew a note. I thought that being still meant sitting still enough so that the majesty of God, via the preacher's sermon, could be fully appreciated. To my first understanding of this verse I added another layer eventually. Being still might also mean taking the moment in which God's blessing is made known to you to glorify and acknowledge HIM. Let yourself be immersed by HIS blessing, when you recognize it, thanking him and understanding that HE is the source of such goodness.
This morning, for no reason, I think that small verse has yet another layer. Perhaps it has less to do with our physical dispositions and more to do with our hearts and minds before the Lord. Thanks to an online Hebrew dictionary, I now know that 'being still' is the Hebrew word raphah. It has a dozen meanings but two of them are 'relax' and 'let it go'. When we are still we relax our minds and let go of our troubled hearts (at least that's one way to interpret the verse).
When I pray, I come to God talking, talking, talking. And often, too often, my prayers sound something like this, "Lord I come to you tonight...what is that noise outside? What in the world are those people up to being so loud." or "Lord thank you for the wonderful meal my grams made.... the chicken was really good. She burned it a bit. Maybe she should use a lower setting on the stove top." or "God thank you for this day...tomorrow is going to be so busy. I have that report, need to get groceries, oh and write so-and-so." I never allow the Lord to speak to me. My mind is racing in a hundred directions and I probably couldn't hear God if HE were standing next to me shouting.
Perhaps we should let the Lord talk for once. Just maybe we should sit quietly, allowing God to direct our heart and our mind. I mean completely quietly. No requests for help with a situation or thanks for this blessing or that situation, although glory is certainly due, but rather 'be' (relax & let yourself go) with HIM.
A focusing thought such as "Lord show me please where my spiritual weaknesses are." can open up a lot. You never know what the Lord would like to show you if you'd just allow him the quality time to. Then again, perhaps nothing needs to be said aloud. Maybe giving HIM complete freedom gives us complete opportunity to know his agenda more and ours less.
So, is this meditation. Do I think Christians should meditate? I'm not going to answer such questions, sorry. Why can't a silent, open you simply be 'being still'? So, relax your own worries, questions, and avenues of thought, let go of your own power of speech, be still and know HE is God.
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