I sit in my corner of Old East residence hall at the university and am not sure what to write. The day has been a blur of faces new and old, things to buy and schedules to be made. And at midday, after buying posters for the room, catching up with an old suitemate, adding classes, dropping classes, and worrying as the riptide begins to strengthen, I wonder how on earth I will be able to continue at this pace once classes begin. I enjoyed myself for the first eight hours of the day, but as evening approached I began to walk in a haze, exhausted and wanting to just curl up in my cozy, lofted bed under my canopy and read C.S. Lewis and talk to Colleen on the phone.
I still have one foot in summer and the other in some foreign land that may be Chile or Spain or the future or the past, I’m not sure what. But it somehow prevents me from fully enjoying the present. Although I suppose my standards are too high, you have to admit it’s odd that nobody in collegetown factors in “boredom” or “fatigue” or “mediocrity” on the scale of life emotions. I think more than anything, the spiritual pace here is tiring. I am baffled at how so many students can go, go, go constantly, drinking and partying well into the morning, and constantly surround themselves with young people, rarely taking a moment to relax, unwind, call a parent, reconcile with a friend. I get caught up in this, too, so I am one to point fingers, but for some reason I am getting a bigger whiff of it this year than I have before. And this observation is not going to cause me to be ensnared by melancholia and depression, yet I still wonder why students are always smiling…so much that their mouths could not stretch any wider.
I wish I could see beneath all the layers. I can’t see through.
It’s really hard for me to apply different Christian principles to real life situations, even though I hold them true in my heart and mind. How do you show love to incoming freshmen, for instance? Is it simply smiling and telling them that you are here to answer any questions? I don’t know…it was this very superficial friendliness and southern “hospitality” that I was so befuddled by last year. I just wanted someone to listen to me, but I didn’t want to approach them…I didn’t know who to approach, after all. And I wanted someone to show and emotion other than giddiness. I feel like love entails a stronger, more active involvement. But how do I play this out?
I can pray for the incoming students. For the confused, the hurting, the lonely, the ones that are having problems with their roommates, the ones that are pulling out maps on the lower quad trying to find their way through a yellow school of fish. But when I get out of my dorm room, out into the real world, I get awkward.
College is fun, yes. Meeting new people is fun, yes. But for me, at least, a large chunk of it involves darting in and out of awkwardness. Trying to break down walls and recognize my own facades and strive for honesty in thinking and feeling and conveying such. At times I still feel like a middle school student.
I rejoice in the fact that God is willing to work with and through my awkwardness. Even though I don’t know how to use a compass or steer my way through college, God is going to help me overcome securities and fears and that the process will be pleasing in His sight. God is not finished with me yet and has promised to do good things. It comforts me to read the Psalms and know that even these great figures in Christian history and world history struggled in the daily grind of life. I particularly like how David and other psalmists start some of their psalms despairing, aware of their sin but unable to see God’s goodness. There is so much feeling and wrestling in those psalms, and in each on there is some sort of turning point. The psalmist goes to the sanctuary of God and finds tangible rest in Him. You can see the curtain being lifted and the light shining in as the psalm becomes less about the psalmist and more about God’s goodness. God works through the psalmists’ own jumbled emotions and thoughts and expression.
I have no idea where this post is going. I’m tired and need to go to sleep. I don’t even know if it had an over-arching theme.
I’ll end it with one of my favorite verses, as of July:
The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;
your love, O LORD, endures forever—
do not abandon the works of your hands.
psalm 138
Monday, August 21, 2006
Ah, the last post, a bit belated. now onto college.
Tuesday
All of Tuesday was devoted to dithering around in NYC. The day marked two first: the first time that I ever rode a train other than the St. Louis zoo train, and the first time that I saw rain since early July. Both were welcomed with open arms. I love rainy days in the summer…they are so much moodier and deeper than the same old sunshine and cloudless skies.
We started off the day with Dunkin Donuts. (Didn’t I say that it was the Starbucks of New Haven?)
On the train I continued feeding my addiction to Sudoku and wrote a little bit in lieu of quiet time. The round-trip train-ride cost less than 30 bucks, which is pretty darn good considering that we were stuck on the Brooklyn bridge by car for nearly two hours when we drove from NYC to New Haven. Train transit is so much better and not stressful!
When we stepped out of Grand Central Station into the New York City madness we were on sensory overload. I had no idea where to go, what to look at, what smells to avoid, what sounds to pay attention to. Those first few minutes of New York City buzz knock the wind out of your senses in a way that is akin to an adrenaline rush while sky diving. It’s absolutely amazing, those first few minutes. (Interestingly enough, my photographs of the initial NYC-shock are poorly framed with no particular focal point. Funny how I couldn’t produce good, focused, work, eh? I was trying to capture everything at once which is impossible).
I don’t remember minute details from the trip, like which streets and avenues we were on at which times. (Colleen was the navigator, anyways). What I can recall isn’t a mosaic, but more like wisps of blurred paint, sort of like when you are driving on the road during a storm and the wet windshield blurs all of the streetlights and colors. I can recall the honking horns, the wind hitting the buildings, the chatter of people, the sound of feet hitting the ground, the Doppler effect in action, the vivid advertisements, that distinct NYC smell of sewers and people and infrastructures. It’s so intense. I love it.
We spent the first couple of hours shopping. Colleen bought some classy green shoes while I was preoccupied with feeling very much out of place in my green shirt and tennis shoes, wishing I had more style and wondering how on earth NYC girls look so good. We hit Joe’s favorite store (har har) H&M for nearly an hour. Colleen and I bought matching outfits (Mom would be happy that we are carrying on her tradition of dressing us the same) and chic accessories.
Lunch was at the world-famous Carnegie Deli, one of the best delis in the nation. The food was amazing…we dined on pickles, Jewish potato pancakes, and a mammoth BLT. I have no idea how much bacon I consumed. It might have been a whole baby pig.
Mid-afternoon brought us to about eight shoe stores. I dragged Colleen to every shoe store on Lexington Avenue in search of comfy Puma-ish shoelace-less tennis shoes. I finally found some AWESOME ones at Naturalizer, and my afternoon mission was fulfilled.
We took a break below this cool huge topless gazebo thing sipping iced coffee from Starbucks and talking to Joe and Beth on our cell phones. A very interesting Starbucks photoshoot occurred. See facebook.com for more information.
Early evening brought us through Central Park. I took some pictures of Swedish boys who didn’t speak much English and targeted unsuspecting tourists. I guess I’m pretty obvious with my camera glued to my face, shouting bonehead things like, “Isn’t it cool to see skyscrapers juxtaposed with green trees?” Joe targets pregnant women and mothers with kids when he wants someone to take his picture. Great.
The Zuul building was Colleen’s favorite part of the trip, I can just tell. She has like ten pictures on her camera,
and eight of them are of the Zuul building. It was pretty exciting, I admit, trekking through Central Park towards 65th street in order to behold Dana Barret’s apartment (aka the Zuul building) that was the site of the Ghostbusters movie. You can’t miss it, because it’s next to that beautiful church that the Pillsbury Doughboy squashed.
At twilight we took the subway down to 14th street at Greenwich Village and Washington Square. The area was completely different from the buzz of midtown…shorter apartment complexes replaced skyscrapers, normally-dressed people replaced fashion models, road signs replaced advertisements, and eclectic shops like “Tu Tu” and “Gatsby’s Restaurant” replaced Bloomingdales and the Hard Rock Café. Men were playing chess on the street, children were riding bikes through fountains, men were walking dogs. It was almost normal. Then you remember you are in NYC…
We dined at Little Italy for dinner and grabbed some gelato from a pastry store for dessert. We did some final shopping in Chinatown before taking the Subway back to Grand Central and the train back to New Haven. We arrived home at 12:30, exhausted and with sore feet from a long, fulfilling day.
All of Tuesday was devoted to dithering around in NYC. The day marked two first: the first time that I ever rode a train other than the St. Louis zoo train, and the first time that I saw rain since early July. Both were welcomed with open arms. I love rainy days in the summer…they are so much moodier and deeper than the same old sunshine and cloudless skies.
We started off the day with Dunkin Donuts. (Didn’t I say that it was the Starbucks of New Haven?)
On the train I continued feeding my addiction to Sudoku and wrote a little bit in lieu of quiet time. The round-trip train-ride cost less than 30 bucks, which is pretty darn good considering that we were stuck on the Brooklyn bridge by car for nearly two hours when we drove from NYC to New Haven. Train transit is so much better and not stressful!
When we stepped out of Grand Central Station into the New York City madness we were on sensory overload. I had no idea where to go, what to look at, what smells to avoid, what sounds to pay attention to. Those first few minutes of New York City buzz knock the wind out of your senses in a way that is akin to an adrenaline rush while sky diving. It’s absolutely amazing, those first few minutes. (Interestingly enough, my photographs of the initial NYC-shock are poorly framed with no particular focal point. Funny how I couldn’t produce good, focused, work, eh? I was trying to capture everything at once which is impossible).I don’t remember minute details from the trip, like which streets and avenues we were on at which times. (Colleen was the navigator, anyways). What I can recall isn’t a mosaic, but more like wisps of blurred paint, sort of like when you are driving on the road during a storm and the wet windshield blurs all of the streetlights and colors. I can recall the honking horns, the wind hitting the buildings, the chatter of people, the sound of feet hitting the ground, the Doppler effect in action, the vivid advertisements, that distinct NYC smell of sewers and people and infrastructures. It’s so intense. I love it.
We spent the first couple of hours shopping. Colleen bought some classy green shoes while I was preoccupied with feeling very much out of place in my green shirt and tennis shoes, wishing I had more style and wondering how on earth NYC girls look so good. We hit Joe’s favorite store (har har) H&M for nearly an hour. Colleen and I bought matching outfits (Mom would be happy that we are carrying on her tradition of dressing us the same) and chic accessories.
Lunch was at the world-famous Carnegie Deli, one of the best delis in the nation. The food was amazing…we dined on pickles, Jewish potato pancakes, and a mammoth BLT. I have no idea how much bacon I consumed. It might have been a whole baby pig.
Mid-afternoon brought us to about eight shoe stores. I dragged Colleen to every shoe store on Lexington Avenue in search of comfy Puma-ish shoelace-less tennis shoes. I finally found some AWESOME ones at Naturalizer, and my afternoon mission was fulfilled.
We took a break below this cool huge topless gazebo thing sipping iced coffee from Starbucks and talking to Joe and Beth on our cell phones. A very interesting Starbucks photoshoot occurred. See facebook.com for more information.Early evening brought us through Central Park. I took some pictures of Swedish boys who didn’t speak much English and targeted unsuspecting tourists. I guess I’m pretty obvious with my camera glued to my face, shouting bonehead things like, “Isn’t it cool to see skyscrapers juxtaposed with green trees?” Joe targets pregnant women and mothers with kids when he wants someone to take his picture. Great.
The Zuul building was Colleen’s favorite part of the trip, I can just tell. She has like ten pictures on her camera,
and eight of them are of the Zuul building. It was pretty exciting, I admit, trekking through Central Park towards 65th street in order to behold Dana Barret’s apartment (aka the Zuul building) that was the site of the Ghostbusters movie. You can’t miss it, because it’s next to that beautiful church that the Pillsbury Doughboy squashed.
At twilight we took the subway down to 14th street at Greenwich Village and Washington Square. The area was completely different from the buzz of midtown…shorter apartment complexes replaced skyscrapers, normally-dressed people replaced fashion models, road signs replaced advertisements, and eclectic shops like “Tu Tu” and “Gatsby’s Restaurant” replaced Bloomingdales and the Hard Rock Café. Men were playing chess on the street, children were riding bikes through fountains, men were walking dogs. It was almost normal. Then you remember you are in NYC…
We dined at Little Italy for dinner and grabbed some gelato from a pastry store for dessert. We did some final shopping in Chinatown before taking the Subway back to Grand Central and the train back to New Haven. We arrived home at 12:30, exhausted and with sore feet from a long, fulfilling day.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
D-Day
Monday
We woke up early to take dad to the airport. He carried on the conversation all by himself on the one-hour ride there and said so many funny things. It’s refreshing having him around…he’s really jovial and cackly (there’s not really another word to for it!) and though his gross exaggerations may aggravate me, I have to admit they are pretty funny and he is much more knowledgable than I had previously thought in high school. He knows his stuff, whether about politics or Iraq or trucking (duh, it’s his job!) and I ought to give him more credit, because he’s a pretty cool guy.
Colleen and I crashed the party at Ikea for the next two and a half hours and had a blast looking at pretty Swedish furniture and dreaming about all the cool things she could one day have in her apartment. The store is intruiging…sort of reminiscent of a Home Depot only ten times as large and with two floors devoted solely to display of the assembled furniture in fake “rooms.” The furniture isn’t all that expensive, either, compared to Target and mainstream department stores.
The catch is you have to assemble everything yourself. We would spend the remainder of the day assembling (and cursing at) a stubborn floor bed frame, a bookcase, a table, and four chairs while unpacking boxes. We pretty much finished the kitchen and started on the living room by the evening and punctuated the process with a mid-afternoon Starbucks
and venture to Target and Bed Bath & Beyond, and a late night run to get Chinese food. We ended the day with a giant celebration of Colleen’s birthday. (Giant celebration= watching 2 episodes of Arrested Development, Colleen’s birthday gift from Joe). That show is really growing on me. I like Tobias dressed as a British housekeeper.
The day was quite enjoyable, though. I really like using my hands to build stuff. It’s not every day that you assemble an apartment’s worth of furniture, and I guess I’m looking forward to when I can furnish my own apartment, then my own house, then hopefully my children’s bedrooms and what not. But that is far away in time and space. For now, I’m enjoying this.
We woke up early to take dad to the airport. He carried on the conversation all by himself on the one-hour ride there and said so many funny things. It’s refreshing having him around…he’s really jovial and cackly (there’s not really another word to for it!) and though his gross exaggerations may aggravate me, I have to admit they are pretty funny and he is much more knowledgable than I had previously thought in high school. He knows his stuff, whether about politics or Iraq or trucking (duh, it’s his job!) and I ought to give him more credit, because he’s a pretty cool guy.
Colleen and I crashed the party at Ikea for the next two and a half hours and had a blast looking at pretty Swedish furniture and dreaming about all the cool things she could one day have in her apartment. The store is intruiging…sort of reminiscent of a Home Depot only ten times as large and with two floors devoted solely to display of the assembled furniture in fake “rooms.” The furniture isn’t all that expensive, either, compared to Target and mainstream department stores.
The catch is you have to assemble everything yourself. We would spend the remainder of the day assembling (and cursing at) a stubborn floor bed frame, a bookcase, a table, and four chairs while unpacking boxes. We pretty much finished the kitchen and started on the living room by the evening and punctuated the process with a mid-afternoon Starbucks
and venture to Target and Bed Bath & Beyond, and a late night run to get Chinese food. We ended the day with a giant celebration of Colleen’s birthday. (Giant celebration= watching 2 episodes of Arrested Development, Colleen’s birthday gift from Joe). That show is really growing on me. I like Tobias dressed as a British housekeeper. The day was quite enjoyable, though. I really like using my hands to build stuff. It’s not every day that you assemble an apartment’s worth of furniture, and I guess I’m looking forward to when I can furnish my own apartment, then my own house, then hopefully my children’s bedrooms and what not. But that is far away in time and space. For now, I’m enjoying this.
Friday, August 18, 2006
The Day After
Sunday
This was probably the least arduous day (in terms of physical labor and fatigue…heheh), seeing as we all woke up around 9:30 in order to grab free coffee and donuts from the motel’s continental breakfast. We spent the remainder of the morning at 43 Edwards Street moving Colleen into her new New Haven apartment. This entailed searching for a lost key, emptying the U-Haul, and normal moving stuff that I don’t feel like expanding on here.
The afternoon was spent exploring downtown New Haven and the Yale campus. The area is really cute but not so cute that it looks artificial. The area has a very urban, worn-down appearance that suites it well and houses lots of eclectic shops (and the standard Dunkin Donuts…the Starbucks of New Haven, of course). At times it has a European atmosphere, especially when you approach the mammoth Gothic cathedrals and university buildings or walk past restaurants’ plastic outdoor furniture.
I was struck by how very different it was from Wake Forest, North Carolina and by how much I missed being in an urban culture. I didn’t realize how foreign the Carolinas were until I left them and felt a completely different level of comfort and intrigue. That’s not to say I don’t like Chapel Hill (eh..Wake Forest is a different story, though), because it’s a fun place to be for college, but I think that my heart ultimately lies with cities. Cities that aren’t in the South, that is. 
After a two and half hour walk my dad went back to the hotel to crash, where Colleen and I joined him briefly for a viewing of a cheesy Lizzie Maguire movie that my dad really wanted to watch. Colleen and I left him to get his fill of Disney and we trekked to the Milford mall and Target to buy clothing (me) and apartment supplies (her). We hit up Uno’s Pizzeria and enjoyed a nice, relaxing dinner seasoned with good conversations and deep-dish pizza. yum. In a way, we celebrated more than her birthday as we reflected on the past year and Colleen’s undergrad experience. There was some nostalgia in the air on both our parts but it was so refreshing to talk with Colleen. I absolutely love spending time with her. At the core, we haven’t changed at all since we were little and used to warp each other’s minds and fan the flame. But now it’s even better, because we still retain our innate weirdness and bring it out in each other when we are together, yet we are able to have a level of conversation that is more “adult” and edifying and it’s really cool. And though during the school year we both get busy and sort of pave our own separate paths, whenever we meet again we are able to pick up from where we left off. I feel so blessed to have a big sister who is such a good role model…so godly and full of integrity, compassionate and with a heart for others, talented, but completely wacky.
I can’t wait to visit her in her apartment this year.
We spent the remainder of the evening doing Sudoku and watching TV. I got hooked on this really bizarre Alfred Hitchcock-ish horror flick with Richard Gere and Uma Thurman. I finally fell asleep around I don’t know when…maybe 1:30?
Thursday, August 17, 2006
The Day Of
Saturday
Dad, Colleen, and I arose around seven a.m. in order to shower, figure out an apt travel route, and down many cups of dark roast coffee.
Dad cleverly decided to change routes in order to take the “quicker” 600 mile trip that boasted a 12 hour travel time.
This glorious route, in fact, took approximately 16 hours, frosted with icing that looked like a 1 ½ traffic jam over the Brooklyn Bridge. Also sprinkled with dad’s ‘creative’ route out of Wake Forest…
It may very well have been the most entertaining car-ride of my life, proven
by the fact that I didn’t fall asleep until nearly 11:30 p.m. after getting only six hours of sleep. The route, albeit unnecessarily long, was gorgeous, taking us along the Eastern Seaboard through North Carolina, Virginia, Washington D.C., Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut.
Colleen and I listened to the most eclectic mix of music I have ever heard, which included John Cage’s postmodern “Aria,” Radiohead, music from Star Wars and Gladiator, Chumbawumba, Chicago, the Gremlin’s theme song, the Popcorn Song, original harp songs composed by Colleen’s friend WES based off of the “Limberlost” folk-tales, John Rutter choral arrangements, and the Beatles. Can you guess which song we played when we approached D.C. (think UFO’s)? What about New York City (think green monsters)?
Another highlight from the road trip was Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury book on tape. We listened to one and a half CD’s of the eight hour CD set. The punch line from that book should be “Caddy smelled like trees.”
Another highlight was the Jersey Turnpike, which isn’t as glorious as its cracked up to be, in terms of tolls and a lack of bathrooms, but it is a wonderful road for speeding and racing. We were the proud participants of a nail-biting car chase that lasted twenty miles in hot pursuit of the notorious Silky Basmati Rice van. Below you can view a very professional, factual synopsis and captivating photographs:
And at the end of the day, we crashed in our Super 8 motel room in Milford, CT.
Dad, Colleen, and I arose around seven a.m. in order to shower, figure out an apt travel route, and down many cups of dark roast coffee.
Dad cleverly decided to change routes in order to take the “quicker” 600 mile trip that boasted a 12 hour travel time.
This glorious route, in fact, took approximately 16 hours, frosted with icing that looked like a 1 ½ traffic jam over the Brooklyn Bridge. Also sprinkled with dad’s ‘creative’ route out of Wake Forest…
It may very well have been the most entertaining car-ride of my life, proven
by the fact that I didn’t fall asleep until nearly 11:30 p.m. after getting only six hours of sleep. The route, albeit unnecessarily long, was gorgeous, taking us along the Eastern Seaboard through North Carolina, Virginia, Washington D.C., Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut.
Colleen and I listened to the most eclectic mix of music I have ever heard, which included John Cage’s postmodern “Aria,” Radiohead, music from Star Wars and Gladiator, Chumbawumba, Chicago, the Gremlin’s theme song, the Popcorn Song, original harp songs composed by Colleen’s friend WES based off of the “Limberlost” folk-tales, John Rutter choral arrangements, and the Beatles. Can you guess which song we played when we approached D.C. (think UFO’s)? What about New York City (think green monsters)?Another highlight from the road trip was Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury book on tape. We listened to one and a half CD’s of the eight hour CD set. The punch line from that book should be “Caddy smelled like trees.”
Another highlight was the Jersey Turnpike, which isn’t as glorious as its cracked up to be, in terms of tolls and a lack of bathrooms, but it is a wonderful road for speeding and racing. We were the proud participants of a nail-biting car chase that lasted twenty miles in hot pursuit of the notorious Silky Basmati Rice van. Below you can view a very professional, factual synopsis and captivating photographs:And at the end of the day, we crashed in our Super 8 motel room in Milford, CT.
The Day Before
Friday.
The trip really begins here, where Colleen and I begin to pack at the last-minute. It was an ordinary day filled with just the right amount of frantic searching, screaming, sobbing, shoving, and squeezing belongings into all-too-small suitcases/all too-large U-hauls. We moved all five cars into the street just to further solidify our presence in the Kayenta Court neighborhood, and Mom picked up the U-Haul that would soon transport everything my sister ever owned to New England. The family went to the Macaroni Grill for an unusual dinner with all six members present. There Colleen and I drew flattering pictures of Rusty on the paper tablecloth, consumed a delicious lobster ravioli and chocolate cake, and (I) tortured the grandparents with my camera. An extraneous yet fun excursion to Bed Bath and Beyond was made as Colleen bore a tear(less) good-bye to the shopping district of Wake Forest.
The trip really begins here, where Colleen and I begin to pack at the last-minute. It was an ordinary day filled with just the right amount of frantic searching, screaming, sobbing, shoving, and squeezing belongings into all-too-small suitcases/all too-large U-hauls. We moved all five cars into the street just to further solidify our presence in the Kayenta Court neighborhood, and Mom picked up the U-Haul that would soon transport everything my sister ever owned to New England. The family went to the Macaroni Grill for an unusual dinner with all six members present. There Colleen and I drew flattering pictures of Rusty on the paper tablecloth, consumed a delicious lobster ravioli and chocolate cake, and (I) tortured the grandparents with my camera. An extraneous yet fun excursion to Bed Bath and Beyond was made as Colleen bore a tear(less) good-bye to the shopping district of Wake Forest.
The Last Sha-bang
And so the Summer of Travel ends with a bang—one final trip that will be made again several times over the next two years, God willing. We accomplished a lot in the last four days, which were spent in Connecticut and New York City, respectively, with my sister and dad to move Colleen into Yale for grad school. And because I was too busy to document my travels on paper, I will now dump all of the experiences, funny sayings, and realizations that have laid dormant in my mind for the past couple of days onto this blog. I’m going to break up my entries by days.
Brace yourselves.
Brace yourselves.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Providence
When I was small I used to get goosebumps when I thought about airplanes. To ride an airplane was an amazing feat—to suddenly go from home to a new place in the span of hours. It evoked a sense of wonder and dread—wonder that I could be so high in the air and so quickly displaced from all that is familiar, and dread that my life is fragile and I could feasibly plummet into the depths of the sea and disappear into oblivion if the plane malfunctioned.
My envisioning of “airplane” is no different than that of real life, as both should rightly incur both wonder and dread. It’s remarkable, really, if you ponder it.
.
You are leaving a distinct location and its concomitant memories behind and moving onward to something else completely new. Even if you are returning home you are different, affected by what you just left, so you are beginning a very real and tangible new chapter. The place you have left was once foreign but is now familiar—not just lodged in your memory but something that has changed your very being. And if what you have left is home, it is only home because you have made it home, whether over a span of sixty years, six years, or six days. Therefore, even “home” was once foreign. .
That time in the air, away from everything old and new is a glorious in limbo state where you’re neither here nor there physically but a little bit of both interiorly, reflecting on where you were and anticipating where you’re heading. And as you look out across the varied horizon you realize that life is both microcosmic and macrocosmic in scope. Humans are but tiny chess pieces placed on a giant board, yet that board has no limits and everything matters. You are daily living this gigantic paradox of being a tiny and seemingly insignificant creature in a vast world whose actions and mere physis, or being, is actually large and significant.
That in limbo state is overpowering when experienced in full. An array of emotions and thoughts collide so you’re not really sure if what you think and feel in the here and now is reliable, for you felt content in the place you are leaving but now you are in the air and that place is diminishing in time and space and the contentedness…what was it, really? Now the wonder and awe of the future is absorbing you. And when you think about it, you are eve more awed about the present: that your emotions could so quickly fuse together, that past and future could so quickly melt into one state in your mind. Where have the lines of demarcation gone?
You think about it, and realize that though everything is jumbled while in the air the past and future remain distinct. Old things make sense and you that what was once broken is now fixed and that you are staring into Purpose. So even though you have no idea where you are right now and you may now know where you’re going, you know two things for certain: you have come from someplace and you are going somewhere. There IS direction, but you only see it now where time zones mix and all that is distinct on the ground becomes one Earth from above. Everything is horribly blended now, but it is in that very fusion that you more clearly recognize the distinctions, maybe for the first time, even.
Life appears but fleeting. You are always on a plane—always leaving somewhere and going somewhere else, never on the ground. In the grand scheme of things, life on Earth is but temporary, for soon you will be seated at the right hand of God or burning in the depths of hell, but this transitory state does not lack meaning. Quite the contrary, life IS meaningful and only when you’re observing it from a bird’s eye view—neither here nor there—can you see just how far you’ve come and just how far you’ll go. You have put on the lens of Time, experiencing past, present, and future simultaneously though not knowing the details of those states.
For are we ever “here” or “there?” We are always moving on, moving up, moving forward and moving back. The direction itself is irrelevant; the point is that we’re in motion from on state to another…from melancholia to joy, from childhood to adulthood, from melancholia to joy, , from east to west, from sleep to wake, and then back again. We are always in transition, always learning, always changing, always growing.
I saw all of this on a single plane ride over New England.
My envisioning of “airplane” is no different than that of real life, as both should rightly incur both wonder and dread. It’s remarkable, really, if you ponder it.
.
You are leaving a distinct location and its concomitant memories behind and moving onward to something else completely new. Even if you are returning home you are different, affected by what you just left, so you are beginning a very real and tangible new chapter. The place you have left was once foreign but is now familiar—not just lodged in your memory but something that has changed your very being. And if what you have left is home, it is only home because you have made it home, whether over a span of sixty years, six years, or six days. Therefore, even “home” was once foreign. .
That time in the air, away from everything old and new is a glorious in limbo state where you’re neither here nor there physically but a little bit of both interiorly, reflecting on where you were and anticipating where you’re heading. And as you look out across the varied horizon you realize that life is both microcosmic and macrocosmic in scope. Humans are but tiny chess pieces placed on a giant board, yet that board has no limits and everything matters. You are daily living this gigantic paradox of being a tiny and seemingly insignificant creature in a vast world whose actions and mere physis, or being, is actually large and significant.
That in limbo state is overpowering when experienced in full. An array of emotions and thoughts collide so you’re not really sure if what you think and feel in the here and now is reliable, for you felt content in the place you are leaving but now you are in the air and that place is diminishing in time and space and the contentedness…what was it, really? Now the wonder and awe of the future is absorbing you. And when you think about it, you are eve more awed about the present: that your emotions could so quickly fuse together, that past and future could so quickly melt into one state in your mind. Where have the lines of demarcation gone?
You think about it, and realize that though everything is jumbled while in the air the past and future remain distinct. Old things make sense and you that what was once broken is now fixed and that you are staring into Purpose. So even though you have no idea where you are right now and you may now know where you’re going, you know two things for certain: you have come from someplace and you are going somewhere. There IS direction, but you only see it now where time zones mix and all that is distinct on the ground becomes one Earth from above. Everything is horribly blended now, but it is in that very fusion that you more clearly recognize the distinctions, maybe for the first time, even.
Life appears but fleeting. You are always on a plane—always leaving somewhere and going somewhere else, never on the ground. In the grand scheme of things, life on Earth is but temporary, for soon you will be seated at the right hand of God or burning in the depths of hell, but this transitory state does not lack meaning. Quite the contrary, life IS meaningful and only when you’re observing it from a bird’s eye view—neither here nor there—can you see just how far you’ve come and just how far you’ll go. You have put on the lens of Time, experiencing past, present, and future simultaneously though not knowing the details of those states.
For are we ever “here” or “there?” We are always moving on, moving up, moving forward and moving back. The direction itself is irrelevant; the point is that we’re in motion from on state to another…from melancholia to joy, from childhood to adulthood, from melancholia to joy, , from east to west, from sleep to wake, and then back again. We are always in transition, always learning, always changing, always growing.
I saw all of this on a single plane ride over New England.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
people
The past two weeks have been excellent. I have so much to write about that I don't know where to start, so this will be the abbreviated version.
Where have I been, you might ask? What have I been doing for the past two weeks?
Nothing and Everything.
Joe came to visit us in NC for about nine days. That brief span of time stretch out into eternity, as we remained the right level of "busy" (which denotes no responsibility whatsoever, just freedom (more or less) to do as we pleased and go where we wished). Joe, Colleen, and I resided in Wake Forest for the majority of Joe's stay and exhausted all of the "fun" things to do in the area...which pretty much includes trips to Wal-mart, the movie theater, every icecream store around (ha...two), have a stick-driving lesson in an abandoned home depot parking lot, eat at every renowned local restaraunt, terrorize the dogs, and vegetate at home, naturally. the latter included late-night m. night shymalan fests, backrubs, doing odd tasks around the house for my grandparents, making dinners, eating dinners, looking at photographs, reading, watching hilarious re-runs of fullhouse and cosby show, watch the dog whisperer...the list goes on and on and on....
It wasn't so much the particular activities we did that made those nine days memorable. Heck, I could sit around and watch TV any old day. I've been to most of the restaurants we ate at, I've gone to Chapel Hill plenty of times, and all that has resullted when solitary is a time killed not very productively and a large gas bill. The difference was enjoying all of these activities with two people that I love very much. I don't think I've laughed so much in a while, especially since I was (mostly) cooped up in the house alone during rhe previous month. It's funny how mundane activities can be made meaningful when the activity isn't ultimately the main focus...just "being" with someone else is.
I really like learning from other people. Joe and Colleen both offer unique qualities and it's fun when their specialized knowledge, gifts, or traits are revealed. I like when they talk about music...it transports me to my high school world of touring choir and piano, but then again it transcends that world as i learn about new things, like the difficulty of conducting and evil harp teachers and the like. Colleen is really sensitive towards others needs and has a lot of astute insights on Christian history and theology. Joe is really technically-oriented (he set up my grandparents' and mother's sound system without instructions!)and very rational. He can back up pretty much anything he says with a very reasonable list of arguments, whether it be a treatise on the morality of man or what it is that makes m night's movies scary.
But I also like that though Colleen and Joe and I have all changed in ways over the past year, we can still relate to each other in a healthy, familiar way. It's so enjoyable and so comfortable. Despite the drastic change in scenery, we can still sit on the couch and make a back-rub chain while making fun of retard dogs on the dog whisperer. at the same time, we can still maintain a level of maturity and have insightful, refreshing conversations. I love it.
I hope I can maintain that balance throughout my adult life. Always carrying a child-like disposition where I can laugh at stupid TV shows and act juvenile when fitting, but also have good conversations.
Here's some good quotes from the week.
Colleen (excitedly): "Wouldn't it be cool if that were zuul?"
Joe (rationally): "No, Colleen, that would NOT be cool!"
*****************************************************8
(While watching Full House)
Joe: Their (the Tanners') living situation is so weird.
Me: Yeah, it's like one gay family.
(Laughing)
On the TV show, Danny say: "Jess, don't beat yourself up (about jumping to conclusions too quickly with DJ's beer incident)
Nothing needs to be said after this. There is much laughing.
Later we see a shot of Danny dressed like a woman. Joe and I fall to our knees laughing.
***********************************************************************
All of us, but mosty Joe: In a pitiful German accent:
"BO-HAN-GLES!!!!!!!!!"
Where have I been, you might ask? What have I been doing for the past two weeks?
Nothing and Everything.
Joe came to visit us in NC for about nine days. That brief span of time stretch out into eternity, as we remained the right level of "busy" (which denotes no responsibility whatsoever, just freedom (more or less) to do as we pleased and go where we wished). Joe, Colleen, and I resided in Wake Forest for the majority of Joe's stay and exhausted all of the "fun" things to do in the area...which pretty much includes trips to Wal-mart, the movie theater, every icecream store around (ha...two), have a stick-driving lesson in an abandoned home depot parking lot, eat at every renowned local restaraunt, terrorize the dogs, and vegetate at home, naturally. the latter included late-night m. night shymalan fests, backrubs, doing odd tasks around the house for my grandparents, making dinners, eating dinners, looking at photographs, reading, watching hilarious re-runs of fullhouse and cosby show, watch the dog whisperer...the list goes on and on and on....
It wasn't so much the particular activities we did that made those nine days memorable. Heck, I could sit around and watch TV any old day. I've been to most of the restaurants we ate at, I've gone to Chapel Hill plenty of times, and all that has resullted when solitary is a time killed not very productively and a large gas bill. The difference was enjoying all of these activities with two people that I love very much. I don't think I've laughed so much in a while, especially since I was (mostly) cooped up in the house alone during rhe previous month. It's funny how mundane activities can be made meaningful when the activity isn't ultimately the main focus...just "being" with someone else is.
I really like learning from other people. Joe and Colleen both offer unique qualities and it's fun when their specialized knowledge, gifts, or traits are revealed. I like when they talk about music...it transports me to my high school world of touring choir and piano, but then again it transcends that world as i learn about new things, like the difficulty of conducting and evil harp teachers and the like. Colleen is really sensitive towards others needs and has a lot of astute insights on Christian history and theology. Joe is really technically-oriented (he set up my grandparents' and mother's sound system without instructions!)and very rational. He can back up pretty much anything he says with a very reasonable list of arguments, whether it be a treatise on the morality of man or what it is that makes m night's movies scary.
But I also like that though Colleen and Joe and I have all changed in ways over the past year, we can still relate to each other in a healthy, familiar way. It's so enjoyable and so comfortable. Despite the drastic change in scenery, we can still sit on the couch and make a back-rub chain while making fun of retard dogs on the dog whisperer. at the same time, we can still maintain a level of maturity and have insightful, refreshing conversations. I love it.
I hope I can maintain that balance throughout my adult life. Always carrying a child-like disposition where I can laugh at stupid TV shows and act juvenile when fitting, but also have good conversations.
Here's some good quotes from the week.
Colleen (excitedly): "Wouldn't it be cool if that were zuul?"
Joe (rationally): "No, Colleen, that would NOT be cool!"
*****************************************************8
(While watching Full House)
Joe: Their (the Tanners') living situation is so weird.
Me: Yeah, it's like one gay family.
(Laughing)
On the TV show, Danny say: "Jess, don't beat yourself up (about jumping to conclusions too quickly with DJ's beer incident)
Nothing needs to be said after this. There is much laughing.
Later we see a shot of Danny dressed like a woman. Joe and I fall to our knees laughing.
***********************************************************************
All of us, but mosty Joe: In a pitiful German accent:
"BO-HAN-GLES!!!!!!!!!"
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