Superwhatever.

Oh my gosh! I figured it out...my camera was on the highest quality image setting, making the file size HUGE! So, expect more of these in the coming weeks, but right now, I only have time to upload a picture of the resort I stayed at this weekend for a retreat. Absolutely stunning. The picture doesn't even really do it justice. What makes me uncomfortable, though, is seeing this amazing atmosphere that is booming with tourism (or was, before the winter violence) and then walk outside this compound to folks begging for change. The financial disparity is astounding...we thought there was a large wage gap in America...folks, we haven't seen anything.

I'm stealing the title of this post from Rob Bell, who's book I'm reading right now. He just got done talking about how we try to become Superwhatevers in our lives - you know, Superdad, Superstudent, Superfriend, SuperRA, Supergirlfriend, etc. In reading his words about such things, I realized one of the things I like most about Kenya is the lack of people trying to be Superwhatevers. Competition isn't dripping from relationships or workplaces. There is a drastically lower population of folks sacrificing people for a paycheck. Being 'Super' is just not a priority when we're trying to get food in mouths or medicines into bodies.

Now, when I type these blogs and talk in generalities about Kenyans or Americans or whomever, realize that I fully understand this is not true of all people - there are amazing people in America not trying to outshine others or take on the world and some folks in Kenya are placing orders for a spandex uniform with an "S" on the front. But...

I am more than guilty of trying to be Superstudent, Supersister, Superdaughter, Superwhatever. It becomes a game: how many meetings can I attend around helping friends, investing a few hours in homework, going to classes 5 minutes early, and travelling home for the weekend to surprise my family (which was a blast). But now that I've existed in this more lax environment for a good 5 weeks now, that seems so silly. I'm not doing anyone justice running myself into the ground, and neither are you. Putting in 90 hours a week doesn't make loved ones any more comfortable than your presence; spending a ton of money on a gift for your girl/boyfriend won't make them love you anymore; and for crying out loud, we've got to stop scheduling back-to-back meetings and such. Running out of one early to arrive at another late isn't helping anyone.

Rob Bell tells us to go out back and kill our Superwhatevers. To look at what we're trying to be, realize we're not doing a good job and never will, and accept the reality of our flaws, embracing them. Take a day off. Go play with some kids (because it's theraputic if it's not an obligation). Kill the Superwhatever. I'm working on it.