Friend-less

After a quick calculation I realised that because most of my friends are graduating this year, I will have 3 close friends left here after Summer. I'm getting more and more convinced I will not stay in Liverpool after the Summer. But I don't know where I'd go next.

Sudley House

I just came back from an amazing afternoon.

Now that I'm unemployed, the simply sitting around doing nothing is driving me crazy. So, after a long and hard day yesterday, I decided that today I would go out and do something. As I browsed through the Liverpool website, my eye fell on a stately home not far from my house and after some texts to friends, my plans for today were made. When I drew my curtains this morning, the sun was pouring its light over the roofs of Allerton and the people in t-shirts were plentiful. I even popped over to the Tesco on the corner in my sandals to buy some milk and cereal and it felt like Summer had come early.

At two o'clock, Rebecca arrived at the busstation and we set out for Sudley House. It was a nice 30 min walk through the residential areas of Allerton and with the sun shining down on us and the wind gently playing with our hair, we were enjoying ourselves as much as we could. We even passed the church where Anne and I got lost the very first time we came to Liverpool, which was a heartwarming memory (although at the time we were almost at each other's throats). The sign for Sudley House showed us a beautiful drive way, but our attention was drawn to the other side of the road, where a gorgeous view of Liverpool in the valley was visible. As I later learned, Sudley House was built on the second highest point in Liverpool, so that the home-owner, a retired shipmerchant, could have a great view over the bustling of the ships on the Victorian Mersey. I saw this panorama at the end of the tour, when one of the guides saw me taking pictures of the garden and proposed to take me to an even better view. Climbing high into the house via the servant stairs, he finally opened a little door and showed me unto the roof, where a breath-taking view was my reward. But I am running ahead of the story.

The beauty of Sudley House is its peace. It's not very well known, which means there are very little tourists (certainly as it was a weekday), which meant we had the garden and the house almost to ourselves. After numerous pictures amongst the trees and flowers next to the driveway, we finally made it up to the house and I was bold enough to ask a guided tour from one of the men there. His speciality was pictures, so he mainly talked about that, but oh, how I enjoyed it. The house itself is not a typical stately home in that its main focus point are the paintings and not the house itself so much. The principal house-owner, George Holt, was a fervent collector of art and after his death, his only child, Emma - a spinster for life -, preserved this collection and the house, donating the house with all its grounds and the pictures to the people of Liverpool after her death in 1944. Sadly, all the furniture was auctioned off, but the house itself was preserved in more or less the same state and so are the pictures. It was lovely getting a guided tour from someone who obviously loves the family history and I drank in every word of it. It reminded me so much of those holidays to England we used to make with my family, stately home after stately home explored, walking through the gardens, having a cup of tea in the cafetaria afterwards. I thoroughly enjoyed it and as the entrance was free, it is a place I will certainly go back to. I found such peace, just sitting on the terrace in the sun, having seen such history and such art. There even was a bridal exhibition upstairs, which meant I saw some beautiful old wedding dresses.

And even now, while I sit in my room behind my computer, the sun slowly setting behind the houses, I feel like I used to do on those days over Summer. My face fresh from the outside walking, with a subtle feeling of cool around my jaws and in my fingers, my eyes ever so slightly drooping, my stomach hungry for bread and soup. I take my book in hand and read and enjoy the new rhythm of my life.

A reaction to my sister's blogpost.

For me, Catholicism has evolved so strongly. Well, my opinion of it has. What I saw as a dry, boring church through which masses I had to drag myself in school, it has become a place of peace and calm, a place where I can experience my faith the way I want it to, without having to join in with the crowd. The Catholic church is the only church where I can sit and enjoy the service and agree with what is being said without having a single sceptical moment (where I think "Well, that's not true" or "Well, isn't that a bit exaggerated" or "Well, that's all nice for you, but it's not my thing"). I don't join in with the Mary-devotion, the Saint-thing is still a bit hard to fathom and during the communion I simply bow my head and remain seated. But the difference is that in the Catholic church, this is okay. At no point do I have the feeling I have to "evolve". There is no pressure on me to pray the Mary-prayer, or to kneel down, or to take the communion. It is simply taking part in faith. In Evangelical and Pentecostal movement, I never felt "finished". I'm not saying I'm finished at all, but in other churches I always felt like I was on this path towards becoming the "right" Christian and I had more to learn and more to learn and more to learn and there was always a part of me that wasn't ready, because I didn't agree with everything or something. I never felt quite at home, fully comfortable. In the Catholic church, I feel comfortable. There is no pressure. I am still challenged and I know my faith still has a lot of growing to do, but I don't think "Oh, in time I will feel okay with speaking in tongues" or "Maybe if I pray more I won't think healing can't be done on a weekly basis like a regular clinic". I don't feel like I am missing in my faith. I can simply sit and bathe in God's presence, in a space especially built for His worship, in a place of serenity, with people who are devotional without making a show out of it. I love it.

And my favourite part? The fact that not everything is about converting your neighbour. I'm gonna come out with it: I háte converting people. I am not the missionary type. I live my life and talk about God and hope people see faith through that, but I have never ever felt good about trying to convert people. Maybe that is why I lacked in the Evangelical church of the Pentecostal church: For me, faith and God's love is not about trying to convince people that this is the best way. It's a way to live, the way to live, but the most important part to me is "Love thy neighbour", not "Make disciples". I know they are both Jesus's words, but one flows from the other, in my heart, and the Catholic church does exactly that.

I don't know if I'll become a "real" Catholic. At this point, I am just extremely happy in the Catholic church, because there is a peace you cannot find in Evangelical churches, and a quiet which would be shunned in the Pentecostal churches. Because there is a devotion which cannot be found in either. What I love, is the awe shown to God. I have never found awe in an Evangelical church. Jesus is your buddy. Maybe, but God is your God, and you should treat Him accordingly. And that's what the Catholic church does. Good ol' respect. I love it!

I'm thinking of becoming a Catholic

or at least attending Catholic mass on a regular basis. Just throwing that out there.

Settling

For the past few months, I've had this feeling which, when I tell people about it, is often a reason for them to look at me funnily. You see, I wouldn't mind if I were to wake up tomorrow and I had skipped over the next ten years of my life and I'm married, with a kid or two, in a house, with a cat, with a car, with a job, with a husband, settled and happy. I wouldn't mind a 9-5 job and being settled in my ways, with my family and my pets, going out for walks in the park on Sundays, maybe visit some family the day before. Coming home in the evening, preparing some food, watching some tv after dinner. Go to bed at a reasonable hour, snuggle up with my husband under the duvet. Wake up the next day and do the same. I wouldn't mind being settled. I'm only 22 years old, but I wouldn't mind being 35 and having the "grown-up" life. I wouldn't mind skipping over the whole "finding a job, meeting the one, falling in love, engagement, get married, move to a nice house, get babies, get pets"-thing and just get to that point where you are settled in life.

I think I might be too old for my age.

Above us only sky

The fact is that no matter how many doubts I have about living here, when I see the sun slowly set over Allerton, I fall in love with this place all over again. There is a beauty in the sky I never knew before, a beauty in the golden beams, coating the world in an orange hue. It might just be the coastal light, the rays reflect on the river, but then I'd know it from back home, wouldn't I? It might just be the English sky, a different light, we're closer to somewhere or other. It might just be the ground, the bricks, the trees. But it is different. The sky is different. It is so grand, so wide. It seems the sky is smaller, there, back home. I would crane my neck and see the rooftops, see the trees. But here, above me only sky. There is very little which makes me happier than drawing back my curtains in the morning and seeing a sky of the purest blue, with soft white clouds spotted here and there. And then at night, there are the stars. Endless, bright, shining stars. The moon is brighter too, somehow. At home, the moon is all I see. Perhaps the Northern star, but here the stars are plentiful, right above my head. No need to travel to the countryside, no need to shade my eyes against the lanterns. Lightpollution at home, it does really cloud your view. I never thought it was so bad, I thought it was only normal for a city, but here I am, next to a busy street and yet the stars are cleared than I've ever seen before. I am closer to nature here, it seems. I do miss Belgium, from time to time; my friends, my life, my family, my pets. But when I walk outside, when I cycle through Liverpool and its many parks, I feel happy and at ease. The air is clearer, the sky is brighter, the sun is warmer on my face. Or maybe it's just Spring, after a long and cold Winter.

Lent

In honour of my sister Ciska, I have made a resolution this Lent. I'm giving up inter-mealtime-snacking. This may sound like a rather silly resolution, but for me it is massive. Since moving to Liverpool, where food is ridiculously cheap and very easy to acquire, I have started to snack all day round, resulting in a not so flattering tummy. It also means that the moment I sit at my computer, I want to eat something. Not good. So, this Lent's resolution, I am sticking to three main meals a day, without only one or two snacks a day. Breakfast, lunch (followed by dessert), a snack at about 4pm and dinner, and then, if needed, a late-night snack. If I really crave something in between meals, I eat a piece of fruit. I was going to participate in an action which suggests to eat no meat at all for Lent, but with the fact that, being a student, I'm not always eating high-quality food, I thought giving up meat might be a bit unhealthy for me. As for giving up chocolate, I decided to not go there either, as I don't really eat chocolate anyway, but then yesterday there was a chocolate fountain at the guild and we got a free pack of chocolate and well, I ate a lot of chocolate. So that wouldn't have worked anyway.

Another thing I'm doing is going to church again. This is not necessarily Lent-related, it just coincides, but as Lent is a time of reflection, I figure it was a good time to start this resolution. I have immense trouble getting up in the morning and Sunday morning service just wasn't working for me, so instead I have written down all the services given in both the Catholic church which is associated with the university as the Catholic Cathedral, and I've decided that if I can't make Sunday, I'll do Monday, if I can't make Monday, I'll do Tuesday and so on. So far, so good, I went to mass on Monday and it was quite nice. It was only a short mass and the priest was South-American so I honestly didn't understand a word he was saying, but it was good nonetheless.

Another thing which is slowly taking form in my mind, but which is a plan for the future, is taking driving lessons. I think it's time I learn to drive, and if I have enough money and time, I might start taking lessons. We will see. Plans for the future, though.

Of pancakes and sunshine

Today is Pancake Day. In Belgium, this is know as "Vastenavond", the evening before Lent and in this country a complete outburst of pancakery. I have been invited to two different houses to join in the festivities and am very excited to celebrate it with my friend Anne. This week Spring has truly hit Liverpool (despite a continuation of cold temperatures), with flowers butting everywhere and sun shining most of the day. It has also started a new period of Jobseeker's Allowance in my life, as my boss cannot support all his staff due to financial problems. Though I will certainly be needed after Easter when the new product comes out, at the moment, I have to rely yet again on the government to survive. In a way it is good, as it is an extra motivation and help to find a full-time job, but on the other hand I feel like I'm leeching on the system yet again and it pains me. Apart from that there's is also the utter boredom, as I have now officially left uni, which means I have nothing to do. But there is always a way out of this: I am booking my days full of events, lectures and friends. Yesterday I went to the World Museum with Anne (which has an aquarium in it, which is pretty great) and to pub in the evening, cramming in mass in the Catholic cathedral in between. Today I had lunch with my friends in the Guild (got some free chocolate with it), withdrew from university, got an appointment to get my Jobseeker's going and in a few hours I'll be going for pancakes at Anne's and pub with frisbee after. Now Spring has come to town it is a lot more pleasant to go into town and visit things, as well as taking walks. Now I will no longer have access to the library to spend endless hours pointlessly surfing the net, I will now hopefully have the opportunity to read a lot more books, in the sunshine or around campus. On top of this I am trying to start up a new Student Improv Team at the university, which should take up some of my time too. And I might already have a job I could do, translating videogames into Dutch. But I have to apply for that and I need the help of the Jobcentre from that.

Over the next few months, I will certainly be staying in Liverpool and I will try to absorb as much of the city and life as possible. My goal is to learn about new things, read new books, see new things and make new friends. This year so far has enriched my life thoroughly and I cannot wait to see what the rest of it brings.

"Why should I keep putting money into this course when my heart isn't even in it?"

Decisions

I thought I had failed, with a 45%, but apparently that's still a pass at the University of Liverpool. Forgive me if I think this university is a bit of a joke. In any case, for a good 20 minutes, I thought I had failed my main module and its impact was grave. That I was to quit (and not retake the exam) was chrystalclear, but what to do next was the big question. Staying here seemed the easiest thing to do. Quit uni, stay working part-time, in the meantime search for a full-time job I like to do. But is this what I want? Do I really want to stay in this city or is it merely the easiest option?

I could also go back home. Either start a new course at the University of Leuven or find a job and work full-time. If I want to do a new course, I'll have to find a way to finance it. Working part-time would certainly be a start, but Belgium is more expensive than Liverpool and I'm not sure I'll be able to fund it. And what course would I do? I'd also have to face the judgement of certain people, telling me I wasted a year of my life, wasted money, wasted tears. But I would never agree. This year has taught me more about myself than I expected, has made me stronger, more independent, more able to deal with trouble come my way. It certainly is not a wasted year, however, to keep paying for a Masters I don't even like to do, thát would be a waste. So no, I will not stay and keep on studying. If I do, I'll do it back home.

But I might just return and find a job. The one option that scares me but makes the most sense. It's where my home is, where my qualifications count, where I can do what I am used to. Where I have my friends, my family, everything I know. Visiting my little niece last week made me realise how much I feel like I should be home again. But it also scares me. Where am I to live? Where am I to work? How, what, when?

It would be so easy to just stay here, work, put my life on hold. And maybe I should do that. Stay here, at least until the Summer. Save up some money, maybe, even. Though that might be too wishful a thinking. Get a good job over Summer (au pair, maybe?). Then go back home. Or stay. That part I'm still to figure out.

I need advice. Some help. Someone to tell me what to do. What should I do?