Today was rather short for me. I went to school for an exam, finished within 30 minutes, then had to decide what to do next. I had promised to stop by my brother-in-law's house to continue ongoing body work on my car, which has been a blessing out of a bad situation. More on that shortly.
So, before I kept my appointment, I ran out to get a half-dozen bagels and a coffee. 3 asiago cheese (our family has been pronouncing this variety wrong for a while, but saying "Asah-gi-oh" instead of "Ah-see-ah-go" hasn't diminished our enthusiasm for eating it.), one cranberry, one chocolate chip, & one cinnamon sugar. Vanilla Hazelnut coffee was my favorite offering last time, so I chose that with my take-out order.
Which is all to say is that this day started out well and has been continuing to be so. I arrived at my sister's house as she was completing an essay for an advanced writing class. She asked for my feedback as I sipped my coffee and nibbled on my chocolate chip bread circlet. She is an excellent writer, but was anxious from her morning coffee & the first-person emphasis in the MLA paper. It is a tricky balance to include enough of your personal experience while keeping an academically professional distancing between your writing & you.
By the end of the day's work on my car, I had removed the lights, sanded & primed the bumper, replaced the lights, & used bondo to smooth over uneven paneling. After taking a corner tap on my left headlight, I have been assisted by my brother-in-law, John, who has been instructing me on how to repair & refurbish a car. He has been ever-patient despite my hesitancy at each stage. I wanted clear direction & assurance for what I was to be doing. I don't mind the work, as long as I know I am not wasting effort in an elaborate, yet fruitless, pursuit.
After I was done with all this, I retired to his house to stay the night. I brought 3 lbs. of gummi bears, as I prefer to buy in bulk: I am disinclined to leave my house unless something important requires my attention or piques my interest. Thus, return trips to the store hold no allure. Buying in bulk is insurance against that, as well as an excuse to enjoy easy access to a large amount of a good thing.
One of my most distinct memories of my brother-in-law's gracious nature concerned snack food. We were on a day-trip to snowboarding resort. As he opened his trunk, an buffet of snacks was laid out. My siblings & I stared at them politely, in knowledge of the value & enjoyment of eating such foodstuffs, but recognizing the invisible lines of sacred ownership from years of surviving in a large family. John smiled knowingly, & announced. "I know that people don't like to be the first to eat another's food, so I will break that for you." John then opened all of the bags & boxes, sampling a first share of everything, then allowing us to partake in the same bounty. I was grateful to be understood in that unspoken courtesy, & even invited to share freely in the same. I am honored to say that, as I am in his hospitality even now, that spirit endures to this day.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
Clothed - Conceptual
This week has been stretching for me. It required some dexterity & patience not to panic, to give in to a decompression of academic proportion. I am enjoying the idea of school more than the actuality at times. More in the abstract perspective, than the full dose of reality.
I had occasion to dress professionally for a school event, I was smiling at myself, as I could not take myself seriously. Whenever I armor myself in my business-like sport coat and fine slacks, I am very conscious of the figure I cut. I feel like a child playing dress-up, an understudy to the play of life, shuffled onto the stage with more theory than experience as to how I am expected to perform.
My perception of myself extends to what I choose to wear. Most days, I am more focused on function than form in clothing. I have an abundance of T-shirts from which to choose, & prefer wearing jeans to shorts. My shins are like straggly saplings, accustomed to whipping in the wind than the stillness of stateliness.
So odd is clothing. How we as a society choose to array and adorn ourselves. I am generally in support of the practice, because it establishes unspoken boundaries in how to conduct my behavior.
I am more comfortable when I am decently covered, & more at ease when a conversational partner is as well. It is one less distraction for the focus on the topics discussed. I am more of a reactor when it comes to social situations. I prefer to gauge people to evaluate how they communicate, then tailor my message accordingly. I enjoy being able to help people - not out of a desire to gain attention, but as a provider of a need. It pleases me to please others, to make them smile, make them think.
A nightmare situation is one in which my services are called upon, & I am unable to deliver a suitable solution. I want to be useful, but continually question & evaluate myself as to whether I am. When I write, I want to be clever, to connect with my audience, to be understood. At the same time, any creative endeavor is an opportunity to be vulnerable - to be critiqued or wounded in a blind spot which was overlooked. Just because it was pointed out in love does not mean that it is any less embarrassing to discover. After the eventually, & upon reflection, it is often realized that my error was better revealed in that sphere than in a public undressing of the faulty area. It gives me time to analyze that weakness, to compensate for it or prop it up with other skills.
To reiterate, this week has tried my mettle - to meet expectations, deadlines, & strangers. But I have passed through intact, and I am grateful for that. I step back & view many of the things we take for granted as social norms & lightly laugh about how seriously I am expected to treat it, or even if I am supposed to even take note of it at all. I need to remember that life is not just a simulation - that I have to actually make the first move in certain situations. That projects & tasks will not be given to me unless I make a request.
It is just so frightfully exciting, really.
I had occasion to dress professionally for a school event, I was smiling at myself, as I could not take myself seriously. Whenever I armor myself in my business-like sport coat and fine slacks, I am very conscious of the figure I cut. I feel like a child playing dress-up, an understudy to the play of life, shuffled onto the stage with more theory than experience as to how I am expected to perform.
My perception of myself extends to what I choose to wear. Most days, I am more focused on function than form in clothing. I have an abundance of T-shirts from which to choose, & prefer wearing jeans to shorts. My shins are like straggly saplings, accustomed to whipping in the wind than the stillness of stateliness.
So odd is clothing. How we as a society choose to array and adorn ourselves. I am generally in support of the practice, because it establishes unspoken boundaries in how to conduct my behavior.
I am more comfortable when I am decently covered, & more at ease when a conversational partner is as well. It is one less distraction for the focus on the topics discussed. I am more of a reactor when it comes to social situations. I prefer to gauge people to evaluate how they communicate, then tailor my message accordingly. I enjoy being able to help people - not out of a desire to gain attention, but as a provider of a need. It pleases me to please others, to make them smile, make them think.
A nightmare situation is one in which my services are called upon, & I am unable to deliver a suitable solution. I want to be useful, but continually question & evaluate myself as to whether I am. When I write, I want to be clever, to connect with my audience, to be understood. At the same time, any creative endeavor is an opportunity to be vulnerable - to be critiqued or wounded in a blind spot which was overlooked. Just because it was pointed out in love does not mean that it is any less embarrassing to discover. After the eventually, & upon reflection, it is often realized that my error was better revealed in that sphere than in a public undressing of the faulty area. It gives me time to analyze that weakness, to compensate for it or prop it up with other skills.
To reiterate, this week has tried my mettle - to meet expectations, deadlines, & strangers. But I have passed through intact, and I am grateful for that. I step back & view many of the things we take for granted as social norms & lightly laugh about how seriously I am expected to treat it, or even if I am supposed to even take note of it at all. I need to remember that life is not just a simulation - that I have to actually make the first move in certain situations. That projects & tasks will not be given to me unless I make a request.
It is just so frightfully exciting, really.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Misfire - Tightwire
This was not how it was to go.
You are not the person I wanted to know.
I thought I was done.
I thought we were through.
But this car won't start
No matter what I do.
Calm down and wait,
Waving others to pass.
Stranded in the turn lane
Pray it won't last.
Waiting for a rescue,
I call out for help.
It's getting hot in here
When I am all by myself.
Try to focus on everything else
I'm getting a good education
I have opportunity
For other salvations.
Don't curse at fate.
My savior will come eventually.
For now I must wait
Staring down at my keys.
I was warned this might happen,
But I didn't want to test.
To push it to a limit
To risk missing my best
Chance
To get out, a hope to get through
Now that I've learned
What do I do?
I sigh in resignation,
Engage the ignition.
It sputters but holds,
Sparking faith in my mission
I whisper a prayer,
To God with fervent gratitude.
Sometimes it takes a broken vehicle
For me to recall a thankful attitude.
You are not the person I wanted to know.
I thought I was done.
I thought we were through.
But this car won't start
No matter what I do.
Calm down and wait,
Waving others to pass.
Stranded in the turn lane
Pray it won't last.
Waiting for a rescue,
I call out for help.
It's getting hot in here
When I am all by myself.
Try to focus on everything else
I'm getting a good education
I have opportunity
For other salvations.
Don't curse at fate.
My savior will come eventually.
For now I must wait
Staring down at my keys.
I was warned this might happen,
But I didn't want to test.
To push it to a limit
To risk missing my best
Chance
To get out, a hope to get through
Now that I've learned
What do I do?
I sigh in resignation,
Engage the ignition.
It sputters but holds,
Sparking faith in my mission
I whisper a prayer,
To God with fervent gratitude.
Sometimes it takes a broken vehicle
For me to recall a thankful attitude.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Drip - Drop
Patience is a virtue slowly learned
Every second of the day earned.
The waiting carries a certain weight
My walk - a gait crossing each gate.
It requires a mental exercise
Coping with how to exorcise
The feeling that life is passing by
Taking in small details while I
Learn patience
Every second of the day earned.
The waiting carries a certain weight
My walk - a gait crossing each gate.
It requires a mental exercise
Coping with how to exorcise
The feeling that life is passing by
Taking in small details while I
Learn patience
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Role - Transitive
What power I wield as a creator & actor in a role playing
environment!
It is similar to reality, only on a scale of shameless fiat.
I can do things everyday, but am limited by my physical dexterity. In role playing, the act of speaking something is so is taken at face value.
The trouble is that I, as a human, cannot keep them exclusive.
While I am composed of a mishmash of ideas & possibilities, I am one being & can only endure so much contradiction before splitting into breakdowns of emotion. Whether I laugh it off or cry over it, I cannot deny it affects me.
This is slightly troubling. I try on a different skin or mindset, but beneath the glamour, I remain distinctly myself. Thinking & acting like the character leads to a part of me becoming invested in that vein. But veins can bleed & life leaks out. What to do about the mess? It is an experiment, & while I have an idea of how I might like things to end, there are other scientists involved.
This is chemistry, combining character's lines & edges to interact with & react to each other. This is the exciting bit where the product could spin on a dime. Whether to rein back from confrontations or to let loose into the flow, it is tricky to maintain the right balance.
Perhaps there is no true balance that satisfies everyone involved. Which leads to the next point: fellow scientists & even observers can become invested in my character's outcome as well! I have to assume a certain amount of responsibility for my avatar's actions & their consequences. As if real life isn't complicated enough by them, consequences leak into this world as well.
Emotions & tensions rise, leading to moments of euphoric accomplishment, as well as guiltiness when things spiral outside my boundaries of comfort. How much of myself is given to the perusal of everyone else? Why should they mind however I choose to elevate or annihilate my characters? They are mine to do as I please.
Though, if God had this mindset, our deterministic lives might not carry any lasting joy. I know mine would not. Who are we to question God? How great is He to listen to our sentiments? Humor is truly a Divine gift... We who are finite try to judge the infinite. How delighted He must be when we catch a glimpse of the eternal. Like a child grasping the significance of a vexing math problem. But I digress...
It is the spark of free will - of risk that everything can go wrong - which makes the maintenance of the everyday equilibrium into an exciting endeavor. What curious power we lend to authors, actors, & audiences when we allow them to dictate how something should be portrayed.
The first has absolute ideas of how it should be; the second for how to demonstrate/communicate this into reality; the last group decides whether they liked, understood, supported, believed, & so many other things.
There cannot be any lasting hope of pleasing everyone for any significant length of time in this three way tug of war, but it is indeed a spectacle to see when, for one moment, they agree that there is a greater reality for this having come to pass.
Communication through art is beautiful. Maybe even "One of the most fascinating phenomena of the human experience." We play so that we might experiment & understand our work & purpose while we draw breath. Thank God for giving us this spark of the divine creativity to enlighten the hearts & minds of humanity.
It is similar to reality, only on a scale of shameless fiat.
I can do things everyday, but am limited by my physical dexterity. In role playing, the act of speaking something is so is taken at face value.
The trouble is that I, as a human, cannot keep them exclusive.
While I am composed of a mishmash of ideas & possibilities, I am one being & can only endure so much contradiction before splitting into breakdowns of emotion. Whether I laugh it off or cry over it, I cannot deny it affects me.
This is slightly troubling. I try on a different skin or mindset, but beneath the glamour, I remain distinctly myself. Thinking & acting like the character leads to a part of me becoming invested in that vein. But veins can bleed & life leaks out. What to do about the mess? It is an experiment, & while I have an idea of how I might like things to end, there are other scientists involved.
This is chemistry, combining character's lines & edges to interact with & react to each other. This is the exciting bit where the product could spin on a dime. Whether to rein back from confrontations or to let loose into the flow, it is tricky to maintain the right balance.
Perhaps there is no true balance that satisfies everyone involved. Which leads to the next point: fellow scientists & even observers can become invested in my character's outcome as well! I have to assume a certain amount of responsibility for my avatar's actions & their consequences. As if real life isn't complicated enough by them, consequences leak into this world as well.
Emotions & tensions rise, leading to moments of euphoric accomplishment, as well as guiltiness when things spiral outside my boundaries of comfort. How much of myself is given to the perusal of everyone else? Why should they mind however I choose to elevate or annihilate my characters? They are mine to do as I please.
Though, if God had this mindset, our deterministic lives might not carry any lasting joy. I know mine would not. Who are we to question God? How great is He to listen to our sentiments? Humor is truly a Divine gift... We who are finite try to judge the infinite. How delighted He must be when we catch a glimpse of the eternal. Like a child grasping the significance of a vexing math problem. But I digress...
It is the spark of free will - of risk that everything can go wrong - which makes the maintenance of the everyday equilibrium into an exciting endeavor. What curious power we lend to authors, actors, & audiences when we allow them to dictate how something should be portrayed.
The first has absolute ideas of how it should be; the second for how to demonstrate/communicate this into reality; the last group decides whether they liked, understood, supported, believed, & so many other things.
There cannot be any lasting hope of pleasing everyone for any significant length of time in this three way tug of war, but it is indeed a spectacle to see when, for one moment, they agree that there is a greater reality for this having come to pass.
Communication through art is beautiful. Maybe even "One of the most fascinating phenomena of the human experience." We play so that we might experiment & understand our work & purpose while we draw breath. Thank God for giving us this spark of the divine creativity to enlighten the hearts & minds of humanity.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Where - Trusting
What have I become, my sweetest friend? - Hurt
And I ask myself "How did I get here?" - Once in a Lifetime
Moments pass, when I wonder - what am I to make of my life? What are my plans? I want to help people, but how can I make a living by doing such a thing? What shall be my occupation?
I trust in my Savior to know what is best, but too often, I find myself with a mild sense of anxiety. Lord knows what I can do, who I shall meet, how I can be of service. It is an open world, He is familiar with all of us. Our moments of courage, our quiet surrenders. But I do not shift responsibility for my shortcomings & anxieties on Him. I ask that He teach me how to behave & become a better semblance of Himself. He is a patient teacher, waiting for Me to learn to trust enough to let others in. I love Him, but need to live in Him. There is a distinct difference between acquaintanceship, friendship, intimacy, & dedication. Each have their place & time with Him. I don't wish to be acquainted with His wrath or disappointment. Christ called His disciples not only friends, but brothers, & I have opportunity of the same. Even more, Christ has promised that the church shall be His bride. But we must live in cleanliness & honor His name, not behaving as a slattern to vain philosophies & materialism. They are signs of weak trust in His ability to satisfy our needs. Dedication to the sticking point. All praise to He who is able to provide exceedingly abundantly beyond all that we could ask or imagine. I need Him, & though He does not need me, He wants Me as a child of the living God, a brother of Christ, & receptacle of His Holy Spirit dwelling in me.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Savory - Unsettled
I awoke this morning to the realization that I hadn't been forgiven. Like the Fray song "How to Save a Life," I was at a loss for how to proceed. I liked and was fond of the person, but they didn't reciprocate in kind. This bothered me in the morning - I was tired, vulnerable, and generally feeling things very acutely. What made it worse is that I knew I was and am in the wrong here and they are justified in a dislike for me.
Relationships are complicated, as Avril Lavigne described in the mid 2000's. They are a two way street of communication and interest. When one side places up road-blocks and "under construction" signs, it is often best to not press the issue. I tend to get into these situations by thinking too much, too late. On one side, if I keep silent - it is an silent admission of guilt and allows the other person to frame the story. (I don't mind being the goat, & suffering sacrifice. But atonement has not been paid yet in this instance.) Although I have apologized multiple times, that does not mean that the other party is obligated to accept them.
On the other extreme - raising a ruckus about the issue just muddies us both, and I expose myself to the possibility of digging a deeper grave. So, I have kept flailing to a minimum, hoping that my record of good behavior will speak for itself. I admit that I acted unwisely, but that my intention was not to harm the other party. But they are not interested in reconciliation or speaking about it.
I would bury the hatchet if it had been my blood on the blade, but in the event of this remaining unsettled, I find that it weighs on my hands. I dropped it before, resolving that I would not press the issue, but a recent interaction reveals that time has not healed the wound I dealt. I refuse to speak ill of the person, for I am responsible for my own actions. But I wish it could have had a different ending than this. It is unhealthy for my spirit to dwell on the past. Even though it grinds on me enough to explore my own emotions on the issue, to provide an experience for me to feel and write about. This is not as much about therapy or sympathy, but out of a kind of journal entry for capturing my thoughts on an issue. It is public because if another person has been in my position, it hope it is comforting to know that they are not alone.
I am wrong, but there is not any indication that they wish for me to make it right. Some things end, and I must accept that. To dwell and brood on my inability to satisfy their standards for appropriate compensation is to give them power over me, a reign of penance on my part. I am done suffering. I admit that I regret my actions which led to this, but will not be obnoxious and needy to people who do not want things fixed. I will focus on the metaphorical 99 friends which I have, rather than searching in vain for the ones I've lost. If I divide my attentions in despair, I will be poor company for those who still remain. This was not a romance, but a friendship squandered by my carelessness. I am thankful for those who have stuck with me, and am resolved to learn from this. With a sad smile, I close this chapter, hoping inwardly that the story does not end on this note.
Also, Matthew Theissen has written two songs in which I take solace and peace.
"I'm over it
Yeah behind me now
I'm just over it
Over it
Yeah I'm finding out
I'm just over it
No I don't know what's over just yet
But I won't go slow and time can let the mind forget" - Over It "Relient K"
(If You Want It) - Relient k
Relationships are complicated, as Avril Lavigne described in the mid 2000's. They are a two way street of communication and interest. When one side places up road-blocks and "under construction" signs, it is often best to not press the issue. I tend to get into these situations by thinking too much, too late. On one side, if I keep silent - it is an silent admission of guilt and allows the other person to frame the story. (I don't mind being the goat, & suffering sacrifice. But atonement has not been paid yet in this instance.) Although I have apologized multiple times, that does not mean that the other party is obligated to accept them.
On the other extreme - raising a ruckus about the issue just muddies us both, and I expose myself to the possibility of digging a deeper grave. So, I have kept flailing to a minimum, hoping that my record of good behavior will speak for itself. I admit that I acted unwisely, but that my intention was not to harm the other party. But they are not interested in reconciliation or speaking about it.
I would bury the hatchet if it had been my blood on the blade, but in the event of this remaining unsettled, I find that it weighs on my hands. I dropped it before, resolving that I would not press the issue, but a recent interaction reveals that time has not healed the wound I dealt. I refuse to speak ill of the person, for I am responsible for my own actions. But I wish it could have had a different ending than this. It is unhealthy for my spirit to dwell on the past. Even though it grinds on me enough to explore my own emotions on the issue, to provide an experience for me to feel and write about. This is not as much about therapy or sympathy, but out of a kind of journal entry for capturing my thoughts on an issue. It is public because if another person has been in my position, it hope it is comforting to know that they are not alone.
I am wrong, but there is not any indication that they wish for me to make it right. Some things end, and I must accept that. To dwell and brood on my inability to satisfy their standards for appropriate compensation is to give them power over me, a reign of penance on my part. I am done suffering. I admit that I regret my actions which led to this, but will not be obnoxious and needy to people who do not want things fixed. I will focus on the metaphorical 99 friends which I have, rather than searching in vain for the ones I've lost. If I divide my attentions in despair, I will be poor company for those who still remain. This was not a romance, but a friendship squandered by my carelessness. I am thankful for those who have stuck with me, and am resolved to learn from this. With a sad smile, I close this chapter, hoping inwardly that the story does not end on this note.
Also, Matthew Theissen has written two songs in which I take solace and peace.
"I'm over it
Yeah behind me now
I'm just over it
Over it
Yeah I'm finding out
I'm just over it
No I don't know what's over just yet
But I won't go slow and time can let the mind forget" - Over It "Relient K"
(If You Want It) - Relient k
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