The Menno Melange

So my brief furlough into short story writing has completed. Part Four of my short story is up over at SilentTalkie. Not the erotic thriller some people hoped it would be, but I think it resolved itself quite well. Let me know your thoughts, even if you’re critical.

I like to think that have a fairly well organized computer. It seems to me that if I carried a computer around with me, I could lay out the notes I typed up, the spreadsheets I compiled, and the slideshows and other files I downloaded into an orderly, systematic format.

As laptop computers slowly became portable and functional enough that it made sense to bring along to a class lecture or workshop, I would often become envious of those who had the finances and foresight to bring a laptop computer to class. However, as the practice became more common in my academic and professional settings, I got to observe how these computers were actually being used. It turns out that even though they are surrounded by sometimes hundreds of other students or workshop participants, laptop carriers still use that time to do other things on their computers. I’ve seen people beside and in front of me play games, read email, use instant messaging programs and browse semi-questionable material online, and neighbours at seminars and workshops are no more responsible.

Of course I am in no position to throw the first stone; if I had a laptop in front of me, few lecturers I know would be able to capture my full attention away from the digital distractions I install for myself on my computers. This is precisely the problem. I get distracted by their computer screens so that I lose focus on what’s being discussed, however, I can’t impact what programs they use and I have to put up with their annoying quirks (like using google to search for everything rather than typing in the obvious URLs). It’s a lose-lose situation.

So, if you ever get to sit in a lecture or workshop with me, and you’re in between me and the main speaker, don’t use a laptop. (And no, I will not sit at the front to prevent this problem)

Things are getting more interesting for the people of my alter call story. The third part of it was released today with the rest of SilentTalkie. Loyal readers of the e-zine are clamouring for a steamier storyline. I think it’s getting quite interesting without smutting it up. You be the judge. Feel free to leave a comment here or there with your thoughts on it so far.

Don’t worry, I will do more writing than just my short story serial. Anyhow, the next issue of Silent Talkie was released to today, which includes part two of my ongoing story entitled Alter Call.
Thanks for reading, and I appreciate any comments.

On Wednesday, the second issue of Silent Talkie was released. This time my story was one of the features.

At first glance you might not think it belongs in an art magazine, but it deals with the intersection of celebrity and faith in a musical context … Okay, so maybe it still doesn’t belong in an art e-zine, but as long as they print it, I’ll keep submitting them.

The next part of the story will be released next Wednesday.

… it’s a re-launch.

The second volume of SilentTalkie was released on Wednesday. It is a weekly online art magazine devoted to highlighting interesting and engaging works of art which surround us in a variety of formats.

I have volunteered to submit articles for it. You won’t find any of my work in the first issue, but a series of short stories that I’m working on will begin in next Wednesday’s (the 21st) edition. The writers come from various expertises. Most of its writers, including myself, like to think that we are cutting edge and zany, but we’re likely more inline with Moe Sizlak’s definition of post-modern, “weird for the sake of weird.”

I’m hoping to have a lot of fun with my short-story series. It’s about a celebrity gospel singer, which is why it sorta fits into an arts magazine, but besides music, it’s about love, faith, enchantment and dis-enchantment. I hope you’ll like it.

The following is an article I wrote, and it was published in the November 27th issue of the Canadian Mennonite.

Persistence through faith

Some of my greatest lessons in faith have come from working as the music coordinator in a nursing home, where I lead a choir and visit individual residents and play music for them. One of those lessons is to persist in faith despite fear and doubt.

I have seen that music can be a healing tool that should not be underestimated. I believe music is inspired by God and, through music and my faith in God, people can be reached, touched, comforted, inspired and have memories evoked. Being given such a wonderful tool, I learned to keep on despite inhibitions.

When I first started, I was extremely overwhelmed and intimidated. Part of my job was to get to know each resident by name…eventually. Not only that, but I was to initiate conversation or interaction, which generally consists of small talk, which I am not particularly good at or fond of.

But I truly believe that this job was a calling for me, an opportunity to utilize the gifts God gave me, and to make a difference in the lives of these residents. That belief alone got me through the early stages of fear—dreading going on the floor, procrastinating outside someone’s door, taking as long as I could at menial tasks like photocopying, because that was easier and less nerve-wracking than making myself vulnerable to someone who may not even want to talk to me.

To add to this fear, at the beginning there were residents who physically or vocally expressed their disinterest for my company or music.

One resident would quickly cover her face with the book she was reading whenever I would come in her room. This behaviour, I was told, was not unusual. I am certainly not one who wants to make anyone uncomfortable, so I would often just leave her alone. But something told me to not give up on her. By continually popping into her room, and inviting her to hear my music, she eventually grew to be comfortable around me, and even attended a choir practice. Since then, when she sees me she asks if I’m playing music, and she will sometimes follow me around from room to room. Sometimes she dances to the music!

Another resident came to the home very disoriented, uncomfortable and unsure of himself. He often complained of pains, and was very hard to talk to. He started attending choir, but I eventually had to meet with him privately because he complained a lot in choir and disrupted the other members. But as the weeks went by I saw drastic changes in him. He became more relaxed, walked more confidently, always had a smile on, and he even told jokes every chance he got. He now attends choir regularly, and even distributes choir folders for me—on his own initiative. That reminded me that it is never too late to change, and just how powerful persistence can be.

A third resident was so far along in dementia, nurses actually laughed at me when they saw that I was trying to communicate with her. My first few visits were fruitless, as she was in her own world, having conversations with people in her mind. At first, I dreaded visiting her because it felt so useless. However, after just a few visits of singing oldies to her, she started singing along, every note matching mine. When I’d applaud after each song, she’d thank me and say it sounded nice. I can’t say for sure if it made a difference to her, but through music and endurance I found a way to connect with her, even if only for a short while.

I can’t express enough how difficult this job was when I started, and how energizing, uplifting and rewarding it is now. Despite my personal doubts about my abilities and gifts, I trusted that God put me there for a reason, and that got me through all those awkward silences, misunderstandings and rejections.

From these experiences, I will remember that God prepares us for the road we walk on, but we must persist in faith despite any forks in the road.

—Ana Loewen

The author is currently working as music coordinator at PeopleCare long-term care residence and is church organist at Trinity Lutheran Church in Tavistock, Ont. She and her husband are preparing to put on a musical that they wrote together.

The title for this post is a wish of mine.

I wish there were no guns in the world. Sounds cliche, I know. They cause more harm then good (and the only “good” people may think of is for hunting purposes, and self defense).

In terms of hunting, I don’t think hunting is important enough, however, to justify the existence of guns. I don’t care for hunting as sport, but for those who need to do it for a livelihood/food, there are other ways to do it.

In terms of self-defence, if there weren’t any guns in the first place to provide a threat, people wouldn’t need guns to defend themselves with. Yes, there are other weapons, and it’s unfortunate that they are used in ways other than as tools.

Of course, this post is inspired by the Dawson shootings in Montreal, but I have always felt this way. The fact that someone invented guns infuriates me.

On a similar line of thought, the fact that someone created a video game based on the Columbine shootings makes me want to puke. Who in their right mind would enjoy playing such a game?! Never mind CREATE it!

I know this is a contraversial thing to say, and I expect I’ll get some comments about how guns are “important”, and “helful” in some cases, but this is how I feel.

In today’s world, where there is much concern for depleting resources, Will and I have been trying to find ways to conserve energy.

There’s always the obvious; turning off lights when you’re not in the room (and not using lights until you really need to), not using the car unless you need to (and biking to closer destinations or taking the bus), finishing your plates (Will is generally better at that than me), being thrifty with leftovers in the fridge (ie. using those leftover tomatoes in a soup, throwing that extra pasta sauce into a stew, whatever), recycling, composting (although we don’t do that, as we don’t have the means), etc.

And then there’s water. I have always been educated about water usage (more specifically inappropriate water usage), and yet it is so easy to be lazy and just leave the tap on, stay in the shower longer, have baths every other night, flush the toilet every time, use new water when using the washing machine, and of course using a dish washer.

Random trivia:
Washine machines use 100L of water with every load.
Toilets are one of the highest users of water in the house.
Dishwashers use 44L per load (stats curtosy of Anthony’s comment)

Having lived in Uganda for a year, I learned to fetch my water from a well 1km walk away. I actually enjoyed it. It wasn’t a burden. I enjoyed having to work for my water. It forced me to conserve and appreciate it more. I liked being challenged to find creative ways to do everything I needed to do with my water without using it up. I wish we had to live like that here.

When I came home I became more water conscious. I used a water saving washing machine (which pours the water into a sink and sucks it back up again for the next load), I put my teeth brushing water in a cup, so I don’t leave the tap running while I brush my teeth. I wash dishes by hand, and wait until I have a LOT of dishes to wash so as to make the best use of my dish water. I then use the rinse water to clean all my kitchen surfaces. Will and I let it mellow when it’s yellow, and you know the rest. We used buckets full of rain water to water our garden.

But we still get lazy. And had baths just cause it feels good. And flushed more frequently cause it started to stink. And let the shower water run for minutes beforehand because it takes forever to heat up.

Then when we went to the cottage last week, it rained all day. We had run out of water, and we thought, “Hey! Let’s put buckets outside to catch the rain water.” So we did, and would you believe that was the best tasting water I’ve ever had? We used that water for dishes, drinking, and cleaning. I joked about bottling rain water to sell, it was so good. But, of course that defeats the purpose of it being FREE and all. And I’m not interested in being a salesperson anyhow. Now I know that not everyone has the luxury of safely drinking rain water (ie. those in cities), but man, if you are ever in a clean air area, catch the rain water. It’s worth it.

Will and I were also recently inspired to save our bath and shower water (and the water that drips from our stupid leaky tap) and use THAT to flush our toilet, rather than flushing at all. That works well enough, and the process of pouring water down at a certain speed sets the flushing motion into place nicely. The only downside is that the water doesn’t properly replenish itself afterwards, so you have to pour a little more water in just to get it at the normal level again. But, it still saves water, as it was previously used water, or as Will taught me, “grey water” (previously used water that is still usable for certain things).

Anyway, that’s my 2 cents about that.

So, apparently I look younger than I actually am.

Example #1
I was catering at a wedding through the restaurant I work for, with a bunch of middle-aged to senior women. One of them said to me, “So what grade are you in now?” I was stunned for a moment (thinking, “I’d have to be 17 or 18 to be in the grade she must think I’m in!”), then all I could say was,” Umm, I’m 25.” Oh, she was embarrassed. To prevent further embarrassment among the group, I announced to everyone that I’m 25. This may sound like a silly thing to do, but at this point I was getting tired of being seen as a teen.

This notion makes me uncomfortable, but I’m sure if I was 20 years older I would appreciate that sentiment. But for some reason, it irks me. Perhaps because I feel like people might treat me with less respect, thinking I’m a mere teenager, rather than a 25 year old woman. Or, perhaps it’s these specific scenarios.

Example #2
I was training a 17 year-old guy at work last week, when I started to get the feeling he was flirting with me. In all honesty, that didn’t flatter me one bit. It made me very uncomfortable. He was giving me attitude, but in a joking, teeange flirty kind of way, and other things that made me realize I should probably fill him in. I managed to subtly mention that I’m married, and watched curiously at how his facial expression changed. A blank stare, then a befuddled question, “How…old are you?” I made him guess. After various guesses in the younger 20’s, he finally figured it out. He said he thought I was 19. Needless to say, the flirting stopped after that.

Example #3 (and there are more)
At the nursing home I work at, I was attending a meeting with co-workers. One of them, not too much older than me, heard me make a reference to my husband. I have never seen such a shocked reaction to someone hearing I’m married before. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she exclaimed, “You’re married?! I didn’t know you were MARRIED!” There’s no other reason why she should be so shocked at that fact, except that she thought I was a teeny-bopper. She seemed to look at me with new eyes from that point on. Oh. A new member of the mature married women’s club, I guess.

Maybe it’s my young face…maybe it’s my attachment to my clothes of 5 years ago….maybe my bubbly personality…whatever it is, I just want everyone to know that I’m 25. Not 19, and certainly not 17. And yes, I’m married.