Monday, December 19, 2005

Congratulations!


I just wanted to give a great big congrats to my Roommate R who is, as of this morning, officially Dr R. Dr R received a DMA in vocal performance from the distinguished learning institution of Lousiana State University. And so next fall he'll probably be moving off to some little university in god-knows-where USA to teach people how to sing and to teach people how to teach people to sing.

Roommate R has worked insanely hard to accomplish this goal. While continuing to teach grade school music, he's written papers and sung recitals and defended his knowledge before a rigorous panel of tough professors.

Viva la PHD!

Thursday, December 08, 2005

is Irony still in?

I received a tiny little container of bandaids from my healthcare company at one of those company benefits-awareness functions. Anyway, while opening the container, I cut myself! How stupendously ridiculous...

So obviously, I used one of the bandaids on my finger. I must be accident prone. People find it odd that I carry bandaids in my wallet. I call it being prepared--scouts' motto and whatnot.


Sunday, December 04, 2005

Living in the Now

I just started reading Donald Miller's new book "Through Painted Deserts".


I enjoyed reading Blue Like Jazz for the most part, but he was all over the map with his writing style which I found kind of annoying, but I guess that type of style was intentional.? Personally, I read books to be entertained and/or to unearth nuggets of wisdom or truth that resonates with my life. And I did find some nuggets in BLJ.

Apparently, this new book is a bit of a more-lucrative re-hash of his first book, "Prayer and the Art of Volkswagen Maintenance." So far, I've only read chapter one today. Which incidentally, you can read all of chapter one on amazon.com.

There was one quote that really stuck out to me:

It occurs to me, as it sometimes does, that this day is over and will never be lived again, that we are only the sum of days, and when those are spent, we will not come back to this place, to this time, to these people and these colors, and I wonder whether to be sad about this or to be happy, to trust that these hours are meant for some kind of enjoyment, as a kind of blessing.


I've felt this way many times. And usually, I experience these existential pangs when traveling, just like Don did. I guess that's part of the melancholy sweetness that I enjoy about traveling. When traveling, there is a pleasure in the heightened awareness of every moment. I'm out of my normal life where the moment is usually a slave to routine. This reminds me of Kevin Spacy in "Pay it Forward" where the routine is the only glue that holds his character's life together. While routine keeps a lot of my life together, I'd also like to think that my (somewhat sporadic) reliance on God is really what keeps me afloat.

I can't find solace in the fact that billions-upon-billions of people through the existence of the human race probably had these same existential thoughts in one form or another. It makes me realize that my loved ones will definitely not always be here. And also, on the flip-side, I realize there is the potential to find additional loved ones. But that's different subject.

As I get older, when these "now" thoughts pop up in my mind again from time-to-time, I don't feel quite as longingly sentimental about these moments (before they've even passed!) as I used to. It should be obvious to me, but I seem to be always surprised by the fact that: the past is the past and the present is the present. Everything changes--nothing stays the same, or at the very least I've changed in the way that time has irrevocably marched forward and decreased my shelf life a little more. Best if used before 20??. And it always marches forward faster than it did in the past with or without my usual ennui. --I guess I can't get existential without pondering my mortality. Enough of that.

Anyway, it's weird how the unique experience of recently traveling by myself allowed me to strip these moments of their usual morose sentimentality. Such as: there is no one in the smoldering jeep with me (thank God) so I'm not going to recant with those person(s), "say, remember when we were in that jeep... and the thing happened, and the flames.. and HA! .. those were the days." On the contrary, this was a moment * I enjoyed or did not enjoy the moment * now the moment is the past * I remembered that I enjoyed or did not enjoy the moment and that is that. The last thing you want is to end up like Uncle Rico in "Napoleon Dynamite" who is trying to go back in time to relive the 1982 "glory years."



So, my point is that in the times that I feel as Donald Miller did in his moment, I am less sad that this moment will never be visited again and more happy to have the privilege to experience this moment in the very present now.



cha-cha-cha-chia

It is now officially the christmas season... I saw my first Chia pet comercial today. Sold at your nearest K Mart... that is, if you can find one anymore.