f is for fear less

when i sit down to write a position paper, i want to produce something airtight. but when it comes to situating my discipline (history) within the broader context of theological interpretation, the answers aren't entirely clear to me yet. what is emerging from the haze, as my eyes struggle to focus, is the fact that what i really love doing is comparing conviction with action. i love studying political philosophies/theologies and then finding out how - if? - they were practiced, on the ground. even though i'm pretty tied up in ideas, history is a good place to ask those kinds of questions. and it keeps me rooted in the real world, rather than the abstract.

the anthropocentrism implicit in (my approach to) historical interpretation would probably bother some of my colleagues. (as would several of my other views.) but i like it because to me it feels hopeful, rather than arrogant. if the goal of the historian is to further human understanding of history (a phrase i adapted from william p. thurston's brilliant piece about mathematics), then this isn't about finding a corner office in the ivory tower. (dude, like, the oooonly good ivory tower ever is the one in neverending story.) and my academic pursuits anticipate the future, rather than being wedded to the past.

this assignment forced me to take a step back and consider what i'm doing. thinking big picture is wonderful, even if (because?) it's terrifying. throughout my life, i've been so lucky to have people in my life who demanded that i do something i was too afraid to do on my own. they've invited me into crazy adventures - and not just stupid drama - often without even knowing it. they asked more of me than i knew how to give, and in so doing helped me to live, rather than merely daydream or, to put it a better way - the way bastian did, as a matter of fact: "i will! i will do it! i will do what i dream!"

i know i'll never be fearless. but, big picture: i can fear less.