outWORD by Matte Downey

As I write this, I am sitting in my office which is now also my bedroom, my closet, and a storage space for various musical instruments, all my throw rugs, and two extra mattresses. We are renovating our upstairs bathroom, so my household is in upheaval. Furniture is pushed into corners, huddled in tight clusters. The living room has sheets of drywall leaning against the wall. The floors are covered in brown paper. There is a plastic curtain surrounding the construction site. Bare wires, naked plumbing pipes, exposed insulation, skeletal wood framing, and rough sub-floors are all part of the decor. Along with a scattering of power tools. There is also noise, plenty of noise, all day long. And workmen regularly interrupt me to inquire about the main water valve, the breaker panel, access to the garage, size of fittings, moving something to another location, or getting a glass of water. They also like to parade past my desk to carry in construction materials or deposit waste on ...

Image from jodieotte.com Over the past few weeks, I have sensed a renewed call to vulnerability. Life is a bit unsettled right now because I am in a transition from student to who-knows-what. In times like this when it is hard to find one's footing, the tendency can be to come up with a plan and implement it as soon as possible. This can give one the sense that things are on track, at least for a short period of time, but most often that plan just delays the inevitable. Lobsters and butterflies teach us that maturity requires periods of vulnerability, times when our old shells and forms must be shed in order to undergo a necessary transformation. These transitions are not to be hurried through. Take at look at your own body and you will see that healing and growth happen slowly, one cell at a time, at a pace which allows your body to adjust to the change with minimal trauma. The theme of vulnerability was reinforced for me in three different settings this past week. The first...

A: Knock, knock! B: Who's there? A: Interrupting cow B: Interrupting c--- A: Moooooooooo! Timing is tricky. In comedy. In music. In cooking. In relationships. In life. Sometimes it is hard to know when the time is right for action and when it is better to wait. Let's ask the tomatoes for wisdom. I am not the world's greatest gardener by any means, but I have grown quite a few things in my day; when I was a child on the farm, my mother had the generous foresight to assign me two rows in her garden every year to plant whatever my little heart desired. So I grew the things I loved: corn, peas, watermelon, and one year, a whole row of bright red poppies. Now that I live in an urban setting, I grow things in pots on my balcony. This year I planted Sweet 'n' Neat Cherry tomatoes. The plant is doing better than I anticipated: very early it started to produce bunches of little green balls. Each day I go out, water it, and check for ripe fruit. Just because a tomat...

K2. Image from  imgur.com It's not as easy to fail as one might think.  Oh really?  Yes, because a lot of the time what we take to be failure is not. In fact, one could say that many of our ideas about failure (not achieving a desired outcome) are more myth than truth. And I don't mean myth in the sense of a traditional story concerning the early history of a people, a folk tale, but that it is a widely held but false idea. Often our concept of failure is too simple, and we jump to the "F" word quicker than a cat off a hot stove. The equation seems rather straightforward: I want A. I need to do B to accomplish. A. I was unable to complete B.  I did not accomplish A. I failed. Now, wait just a minute. Let's back this up a bit and look at some of the problems with this equation. 1. We assume that A is obvious and very specific. The fact is that the more specific we make our goal, the more likely we will need to adjust it as we go along. Keeping A rather broa...

Someone moving into my neighbourhood It's been 5 years since we moved to this lovely 2-level condo here in ville St-Laurent.  Five years is the longest that Dean and I have lived anywhere, so it is no surprise that the itch to move has been pretty strong in the past few weeks.  I have been going to open houses, checking out properties online, and even had a real estate agent come in and appraise our property.  The sight of a friend's new house on Facebook caused me to immediately find one in my neighbourhood that I wanted to buy. It's not that there is anything really wrong with our condo (though I would like a bigger closet and another full bathroom). This restlessness has very little to do with inadequate living conditions; it basically means that what at first seemed new and exciting has now become old and familiar. The gleaming hardwood floors, soaring cathedral ceilings, winding staircase, and open mezzanine have ceased to dazzle me.  Now I see only the smal...

There are people that play the lottery.  There are people that talk about finally landing that perfect job.  There are people who long for a dream house.  I am not really one of those people.  I have been thinking about transformation this past week.  How does transformation happen?  Is it really the result of one major, life-changing event?  Like winning the lottery?  Or getting struck by a bright light on the road to Damascus?  Is it a proactive event where I must work hard to get results?  Or do I merely surrender to a higher power and let him do all the work? Last night I had a dream, a dream that I seemed to remember having several times before.  In it, there was some impending catastrophe and I knew we had to get out of the situation and do it fast!  There were two ways to make it to safety: one was by climbing a set of very narrow ladders through inclining, tightly enclosed passagewa...

On Wednesday nights, I get together with a bunch of fine people who are interested in helping each other in our individual and collective spiritual journeys.  The trip there usually goes something like this: I catch the 6:31 bus.  I play with my iPhone on the 7 minute ride to the metro station: maybe update my status, maybe just check out what's happening with my friends.  Then I say merci to the bus driver as I exit, go down 2 escalators, and grab a seat on the train - hopefully my favourite seat at the end of the car.  I pull out a fun book to read and enjoy 30 minutes of blessed riding and reading without worrying about traffic or driving or parking.  I exit the train at the appropriate station and begin the 15 minute walk to my friend's apartment where we are meeting.  On the way there, I stop in at a wee independent grocery store which carries unique organic products and pick up a ginger green tea and some chips or fruit to share.  I arrive...

I am nearing the end of the my first term as a PhD student.  So far, so good.  The reading load is a bit hectic (as it is supposed to be because doctoral students are expected to have cast iron brains that can digest large quantities of any sort of printed matter).  My job as a teaching assistant in the theatre department is demanding (3 hours in-class assistance and 8 hours of grading per week), but a nice break from the heavy thinking of theology.  Plus, the theatre classroom is a friendly and invigorating environment (except on Halloween when Death sat in the 4th row and kinda freaked me out a bit).  Thus far, I have written 2 official reading reports, composed about 30 pages of notes on various readings, presented 6 summaries of readings, and taught a masters' class.  I still have another reading report and 2 major papers to write (slightly panicking) on 1) the task of theology after modernism and 2) so...

I have been living with a stupid, nasty cold for 10 days now.  I suppose the fact that it is still partying in my body means that it is perhaps not so stupid and in fact pretty smart.  But I still maintain that is it nasty!  Whatever the case, over the course of the last week and a half I have observed a few different stages that I have gone through with this cold. 1.  Denial.   It is just a wee scratchy throat.  It will probably be gone by morning. I'll just ignore it. 2. More Denial.   It's been a few days and I am starting to cough, so I think that's a sign that it is almost over.  I am sure I will feel much better tomorrow.  And besides, I can pretty much function as normal. 3.  Impatience.   Why is this taking so long?  It's been a week and I should be feeling better!  It is interfering with my life.  (At this point I started asking for helpful sugges...

Station 7 - Jesus falls a second time I am one of those people that lets their breakfast cereal sit for awhile before I eat it.  I like it soggy.  I like the milk to infiltrate the squares, circles, flakes, clusters, and sticks and change their texture.  I figure if I want it crunchy, I might as well eat it out of the box and drink a glass of milk as a chaser.  I like to know that the milk has truly met the cereal and there is no turning back from the encounter. Station 11 - Jesus is nailed to the cross Station 10 - Jesus is stripped of his garments We spent Sunday morning walking through the Way of the Cross garden at St. Joseph's Oratory with our faith community.  I have done this walk many times before, but never at such a slow, meditative pace.  It was a lot different than just hiking along the path, sightseeing.  We took our time.  We stood and looked.  We were silent....

Sometimes life just seems bizarre. While some people are laughing and partying and watching a sporting event in one part of the world, others are dying in street skirmishes in a war-torn region. While one teenager plays video games and drinks Coke and thinks about nothing more than unlocking the next level, another adolescent faces painful surgery and possible life-altering complications. While a new baby is born into one loving family, another dies from neglect, hunger, or worse. At any point in time, we find ourselves touched by the good, the bad, the ugly, the painful, the funny, the overwhelming, the surprising, and the sweet. On good days, I can see some grand cohesion between these multi-dimensional aspects of life, but many times, I find myself puzzled or even at odds with what is happening. This is a joyful time in my life; I am about to graduate with my MA and have a summer of relative ease before I plow into doctoral studies in the fall. I find myself laughing and danc...

It is an unsettling day today. The weather has been windy, rainy, sleety and much colder than normal. I am unsettled as well. An important meeting that was supposed to happen this afternoon was cancelled. I am in limbo about how things will unfold in the next few months as I finish my degree. I just received a second offer of admission for doctoral studies, which probably won't change my direction, but it adds another factor to the mix. We are in the process of moving my work space to the guest bedroom (which doesn't have a lot of traffic these days). Also, any vacation plans we have tried to make in the last month have all fallen apart due to scheduling conflicts or unique opportunities that keep popping up. Unsettled. The path is not clear ahead. I cannot step forward decisively. I must wait until the things that are in flux touch down. Flux. That's an interesting word. It means 'flow' or 'moving across' and has a dynamic quality to it, like a river which...

The end of my master's degree is in sight, so I applied for graduation today. One would think that would be a pretty straightforward process. You click on the application form, you confirm the details that the university has on record for you, pay the $40 with a credit card, and hit submit . Whoa, not so fast. One of the details that continues to be amusing/frustrating/difficult to explain in this province is my name. It gets a little complicated, but here goes. In Quebec, one's legal name is their name at birth. Hence, on all legal and provincial documents, the name used is the name that appears on my birth certificate. I can't change how they do things here, though Dean has expended quite a few vehement words and wagged a few of his meaty fingers in bureaucratic faces in various attempts. This NAB (name at birth) principle also applies to the health care system and to the educational system. I always have to pay special care when I go to the doctor's office because th...

Today was the first day of a seminar I am taking on University Teaching. As with all first classes, there was that period of awkward self-consciousness when you first meet the professor and your fellow students. There was also a sense of confidence when I had ready answers to questions the teacher was asking because I had done my reading and have some teaching experience. Then there was the brief surge of being overwhelmed when I looked at the assignments due in the next 10 weeks, as well as some excitement at knowing that yes, I will get it all done, and I will enjoy the learning process. Life resembles the first day of class in many ways, and I think that's a healthy thing. It means that I showed up instead of opted out of a learning opportunity. In fact, one could say that the three elements that I identified above can serve as a good indicator that one is alive and well and making progress in life. 1. Unfamiliar and Maybe Awkward: I think there should always be something that ...

I am currently a teaching assistant in a course called Introduction to Christian Origins . One of the books that I just finished reading for this course is a fictional, but historically-based account about what life was like for Christians in the first century. Yes, it inevitably ended with one of the main characters being martyred. Nowadays, the word 'martyr' has somewhat negative connotations because we associate it with radical political and religious action, such as recent terrorist acts. That is unfortunate, because by devaluing the term we miss out on some incredible lessons in devotion and courage. I have been thinking about what it looks like to be someone who has devoted their life to following Jesus in the present age. The three M's, becoming martyrs, monks, or missionaries, are no longer the obvious options for whole-hearted surrender that they were at different times in history. But then, is a radical change of lifestyle, location, and livelihood vital in order ...

I was walking down the stairs of the metro station one day this week to catch the subway downtown. As I neared the bottom of the stairs, the warning set of beeps started to sound, letting me know that the train that was stopped there with its doors open was about to leave. Now, I usually get on the second last car in the train because it spits me out exactly where I need to be when I get off at my final stop. I have done this trip so often that my feet automatically head in the direction of that ideally located car. However, when the beeping started, I was several cars away from where I wanted to be. And here was the dilemma I faced: should I just hop on the less than ideal car and thereby waste a few minutes on the other end when I got off, or should I wait for the next train to come and make sure I got my usual seat on the optimal car? I made a decision, fast, and jumped on the car right in front of me just before the doors closed. At that point, I realised that my dilemma was a fake...

The problem with containers is that I like them. I love their different shapes and sizes and the promise of tidiness that is attached to them. I like stacking them and arranging them on shelves. However, there is a major difference between containers and what they carry. Sometimes I forget that. I can focus on the loveliness of the container too much, and then what is inside becomes almost secondary. Events, meetings, and traditions are containers. They are meant to carry something that is valuable to us. These containers can come and go and morph into different forms, and we should never get too attached to their malleable shapes. A weekly church meeting is a container. It is meant to carry something really important, but it is only a container. It is a time and place to recognise that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. It is a time to recognise the presence and work of an almighty God and see beyond our limited world of work and play. It is a place to devote ourselves to...

Some of the girls (or should I say women) that I used to hang out with in high school are having a little get-together this weekend in Manitoba. I can't be there, so I thought I would write a little something that would give them a glimpse of what I've been up to since we last saw each other. Some of the jobs I have done since high school: actress in touring theatre company, maintenance crew at mental institute, video producer for motorhome manufacturer, office assistant for City of Hampstead , assistant to psychoanalyst, switchboard operator, communications assistant at Stratford Shakespearean Festival, front desk clerk at art gallery, data entry at a newspaper, Youth and Children's Co- ordinator at Anglican church, delivery driver for music store, data entry for Diners Club credit card, extra for several movies, data entry for Gynecology conference, and communications for Vineyard Montreal church. This is me and Dean on our way to Florida last year. I am giving you a g...