Post 109

I have a lot of thoughts rattling around in my head just now, and I know that they are somehow interrelated--I can feel the association among them, but I just can't see it--so I figure I better disclaim the lack of linear logic that is bound to follow: my apologies. I'll probably hop around a lot, throwing out various thoughts, hoping that they come together in the end; we'll see how it goes.

Mostly my thoughts come from a couple of songs: "Vienna" by Billy Joel and "Forever Young" by Alphaville. I guess that the songs don't really resemble each other very obviously, but they both stir up the same feelings within me. YouTube them, if you like; they're good songs, but I can't guarantee that they'll make you feel what I feel. Maybe they will--who am I to say?--but I find that expressing emotion in words, though often difficult, is a relative cakewalk to trying to replicate those feelings in another, so my intent here is not to make you feel what I feel but rather to make you hear what I think.

I could put the lyrics of "Vienna" and "Forever Young" here, but I bet you'd probably lose the thread if you tried to read them--I know I would--besides, like I said, the similarities are more abstract than anything. However, there are two bits that really strike me--the words that always stand out to me when the songs are in my head--so I'll give you that and hope that it gives me a solid jumping-off point.

From "Vienna": "you can get what you want or you can just get old."

From "Forever Young": "It's so hard to get old without a cause."

I find it odd that these sentiments impact me so powerfully. I mean, I really have no right to complain about getting old--far from having passed my prime, I think I have yet to reach it!--but I really believe that the things I do now will set the trajectory for the rest of my life, and there are no options for course corrections later on should I aim too low.

But that's not really what's weighing on my mind, and, to be totally honest, I'm really not all that fatalistic. That is, however, a significant part of what I'm feeling right now, so don't totally disregard it.

-[logical gap]-

The way I perceive people and my relationship to them has changed drastically in the past few months. I used to be bitterly jealous of most everyone for one reason or another, but now, not so much. I've really noticed this lately in my association with [Dameon], my afore-mentioned supervisor at work. I really like the guy--a lot. We've had several meaningful conversations as we've cleaned dormitory restrooms together, and I always really enjoy his perspectives. He occasionally talks about how unspectacular he feels, and I suppose he is a fairly ordinary person, but that's what I like about him. He and I are on opposite sides of a milestone--I am questing (though perhaps not as assertively as I could be) toward marriage; he has finished that quest and is now embarking upon the new adventure of fatherhood--but, really, we aren't all that different from each other. Working around him has really been enlightening in that regard.

My senior year of high school, Mr. Richards (also previously mentioned) was my English teacher. We were a class of seniors, ready to graduate, ready to go out and take on the world, ready to be done with parents and public schooling, ready for life; he was a sixty-something school teacher, ready to retire, ready to get away from the world, ready to be done with our parents and the public school system, ready for life. It was his last year as well as ours, and that led to some interesting discussions. The one thing I remember best is reading Waiting for Godot. After we had read it, Mr. Richards said something that went like this:

"We are all waiting for Godot. All of us. You are so excited to graduate and leave this place; you think, 'Oh, I'll leave high school and go off to college, and then I'll be happy!' But then you'll get to college and you'll think, 'When I graduate and have a degree, I'll get a real job, and then I'll be happy!' But you won't. You'll graduate and you'll get a job you hate, and you'll think, 'When I get my dream job, then I'll be happy.' But no. Eventually, you will be like me, thinking, 'I'm going to retire. Then I'll really be happy.' We are all waiting for Godot, and we always will be until we learn to be happy in our current circumstances, whatever they may be."

Today [Dameon] was talking about how unfulfilling his life seems right now. He's got a wonderful wife and a baby son; he's got a college degree; he's building a house for his family to live in--yet it just doesn't feel as wonderful as it looks. Sure, he's got a college degree, but what good's it done him? He works as a janitor! He could do that without a college degree!

I told him about Waiting for Godot, and then we got to talking about how obvious the idea is--of course life is never going to hand you happiness on a silver tray! You've gotta learn to be happy with what you've got--but, even though this is easy to think up, it's much, much harder to actually apply. Even when you wholeheartedly believe in the principle, being happy is sometimes hard. I mean, I've made bold statements on how we need to choose to be happy, and I've been trying to increase the frequency of optimistic posts on this blog--I've even created an optimism label! But I recognize that being happy is sometimes hard; I struggle with it myself sometimes.

Remember my soulful mentor [V]? We had a late-night chat about this once. Here are some excerpts:

12:54 AM me:I just been thinkin'

and I decided that the world has pretty much gone to crap

It isn't GOING to crap; it IS crap

But

I'M not going to be crap any more

No ma'am

Not me

I'm done moping

12:55 AM It doesn't take a genius to see that times are bad

It just might take a crazy person to see the good in the world

But if the world wants crazy

well

HERE I AM!

So from here on out

Optimism

Yes, ma'am

Happy

Now on

No matter what

[...] I suppose happiness is a conscious action

and a lot of hard work

12:57 AM But bein' sad all the time ain't exactly a cakewalk

I mean

path of least resistance, sure

but

what's the point?

So

Happy

Yes, good.

Frankly, though, I kinda suck at being happy

something I need to work on, I guess...

12:58 AM So, that's what's on my mind

12:59 AM Sorry to dump on you like that

Kinda got caught up in typing and forgot that my ramblings are all over your screen
[...]

1:35 AM [V]: It is so true that happiness is a choice.

I'm glad you're making the choice to be happy.

That makes me happy, in fact.

So, well done, young man!

[...]
me: Yeah....

I've always known happiness is a choice

but

[V]: easier said than done, yes

me: [...] [There was a girl who spoke today in my Stake Conference that really annoyed me.]
She said something about being happy-smiley ALL the time, no matter what

and

I dunno

1:38 AM Sadness has its place in life

Jesus was sad sometimes

and angry, too

I think if we plaster on smiles and refuse to admit that life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, we'll miss a big part of the mortal experience we came here to get

Granted, we ought to try to be happy as much as possible

1:39 AM [V]: Oh I definitely agree

me: But happiness is not the only emotion--I'm not even sure it's the most important

[V]: But happiness isn't necessarily a plastered-on smile and looking happy... it's being happy inside, no matter what, which can be achieved, even when we're going through the darkest of trials

in my opinion

There are different kinds and different levels of happiness

me: God's the happiest guy in the universe, but I'm pretty sure he feels sorrow and pain we can't even imagine (mostly because of our stupidity)

1:40 AM Yes, yes

Different kinds

[V]: Oh yes, I definitely agree with that as well

me: Sadness and despair are two very different things

You can be sad or frustrated and still be filled with the hope the Gospel brings

1:41 AM Book of Mormon said despair comes of iniquity

[V]: yes

me: Basically, sinning screws up your ability to be happy

[V]: Ah, I see what you're saying

I agree

me: The joy of the Gospel is--I dunno--sort of something that can underscore EVERY aspect of life

even sorrow

[V]: Yes

me: But it doesn't prevent us from feeling sorrow

1:42 AM [V]: Oh I definitely agree

[...]

We aren't always happy... we don't always feel happiness...

Hope is more important.

Hope is what we should always have, not necessarily happiness.

me: And hope generally makes you happy

I guess

I dunno, maybe I'm running in circles here

So take that for what it's worth. Perhaps it doesn't mean much to you since you don't actually know [V], but the woman has been through the ringer a time or two (at least!), yet she maintains one of the happier personalities I've ever encountered. Gives me a lot of hope for humanity, really.

-[logical gap]-

This isn't really coming together the way I had hoped it would. But I have one last thought to present, so hopefully that does it.

I'm a fairly sentimental person in some regards. I've recently overcome most of my packrat-like tendencies, but I still have a few things that I hold on to for strictly sentimental reasons. One I carry with me in my wallet. It's a piece of paper that I found on the floor of the office supply store I worked in before moving up here. It was lying underneath a briefcase display, so I assume that it came off of a briefcase, but I couldn't figure out a place to put it, so I figured it was garbage and therefore free game, so I kept it. The piece of paper says this:

The leather of this product
is soft and mellow.
Marks and scars are natural
and serve only to enhance its beauty.

I have often found myself associated with people who are suffering from life's trials. I, myself, am not much of a sufferer--not that I'm especially stalwart; mostly I'm just prolifically apathetic. Of course, I do suffer sometimes, and I think to suffer is actually healthy, it just isn't something I'm particularly good at. But I look at the people I really admire--my dad, [V], several people I met as a missionary and at other times in my life--and they have all suffered quite a bit. But it's the overcoming that really makes them admirable. And, after they overcome, "Marks and scars are natural and serve only to enhance [their] beauty."

I'm not much of a poet--I mean, I can rhyme okay, but real poetry is hard to produce and certainly isn't the sort of thing that I can create at will. But sometimes poetry just happens. Here's a poem I wrote a while back while suffering vicariously for a friend (I mentioned this in my suffering post); it isn't gonna make me poet laureate or anything, but I think it has merit--at least enough to finish off this post (which really isn't going to have any sort of solid denoument, as it turns out. Sorry. I hope you got something out of all this...).

If I could write the story for your life,

I’d edit out the parts that caused the pains

And scars with which your noble soul is rife,

And chase away the clouds that still drop rain.

But if I wrote the story out that way,

I guess it wouldn’t really be your life,

And maybe you would not turn out the same

If you had never tasted pain and strife.

Oh, I have felt the fury of your wrath,

And I’ve received compassion from your heart,

And I have seen you cry and heard you laugh;

I fathom you God’s greatest work of art.

So let me get down to the bottom line:

I love you—scars and all!—dear friend of mine.

Post 108

Hey, another movie review!

So, last night my rommies and I rented and watched The Hudsucker Proxy. I haven't seen that movie in--oh, I dunno--six or seven years probably, but I remembered it being fun, and it is one of Thmazing's favorites, so can't go wrong, right?

Hmm.... Upon reading the above paragraph, I realize that it sounds like I'm implying that you ought to be bracing yourself for some scathing criticism of this movie, but I assure you that such is not the case. I liked the movie; it was fun. And I don't remember the last time a line from a movie made me laugh so hard as, "Okay, Oklahoma then?" did--that was purdy gosh dang funny.

Aside from being fun, though, this movie impressed me with all its allusions (or omages, as cinematographic vernacular goes, I hear) to other movies: in a broad sense, the entire plot was reminiscent of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and Jennifer Jason Leigh sounded and behaved just like Jean Author (or Katherine Hepburn or several other leading ladies of the era); Tim Robbins's drunken fantasy just before telling off the elevator boy was totally lifted from that really random scene in Singin' in the Rain; when Tim is stumbling around the center of the circle of people after the elevator boy punches him, it looked a lot like--like--like several movies, really--anything Hunchback of Notre Dame-esque, I guess.... There were many others, but I've forgotten them now; throughout the movie, there were familiar scenes that I couldn't quite place. The Cohen brothers totally nailed the 50s thing, though, with the loud-mouthed newspaper man, the cool-handed executive (hyuck hyuck hyuck), the cheerful music, the slappy elevator boy--it's just a well-done movie all in all. Nothing bad to say about it.

That said, I'm not sure how often I'd watch it. Comedy is fun, but I can't really think of many comedies that I'd like to watch over and over and over again--maybe it's a phase I'm going through; I don't know. I prefer thought-provoking movies, mostly, which The Hudsucker Proxy is not [but check the comments on this post for Thmazing's rebuttal; it's bound to show up eventually].

Post 93

This is Post 93. I don't know how I managed to fail to make a Post 93 between Post 92 and Post 94, but I did. So here we have Post 93.

I really don't have much to say, so let me just direct you here. As it turns out, 93 is a very meaningful number--so much the sadder that I forgot it!

Post 107

So, I've mentioned my dictionary collection. I have another lackluster collection that I'm very proud of that I think I'll tell you about now: my kitchen appliance collection.

Appliances are surprisingly fun for as practical as they are. This makes them easy (and dangerous!) to collect because I can always justify getting another one. This all started when I was buying some necessities before moving away to college; I saw some appliances on sale, so I picked up a blender, crockpot, and electric skillet. Then my parent bought a new toaster, so I mooched their old one. I also mooched one of their extra popcorn poppers (I come from a family of popcorn fanatics). Then I got a George Foreman grill from one of my brothers for Christmas. About a month ago, I bought myself a rice cooker. And, as of yesterday, I am now the proud owner of a secondhand bread maker!

So. There you go. More boring hobbies from me, your friendly German butterfly....

Post 106

Maybe it isn't just me, then....

So I just read this post from Confuzzled. It was an interesting flipside sort of view point for me. I've been emailing back and forth with a friend of mine here and there over the course of the past few weeks talking about how sometimes God directs people in paths that seem illogical, but, because He invariably knows best, it's always better to trust Him and do what He says. Today in my Book of Mormon class, we talked about stepping out into the unknown and not hoping to know the end from the beginning.

It's an interesting balance. Confuzzled's twiddlebugs learned that it isn't always best to strike out into the unknown; me and my friend have each learned (in very different ways from each other) that sometimes stepping into the unknown is required. It's hard to know what's right. It's generally easier to stay put, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it's generally better to strike out; just because something is hard doesn't necessarily mean it's right. I fear that one day I may work really hard to do something that turns out to be nothing but hard; the hope in doing hard things is that some sort of payoff comes later on.

How do you know the difference, then?

I dunno. Pray, I guess.

Post 105

Some thoughts for Easter:

I am not opposed to Easter, but I've been thinking about it, and I think it's kinda sad that we need Easter. Please don't misunderstand: I don't mean to imply that I think it's sad that we need the Atonement of Jesus Christ; what I mean by saying I'm sad that we need Easter is--well--shouldn't every Sunday be an Easter celebration of sorts? I mean, isn't that kinda the point of assembling as Christians and breaking bread in similitude of the Last Supper, which was itself a symbol of Christ's sacrifice? And shouldn't we ponder daily on the greatness of God's Love and offer prayers of gratitude and praise? If we were really doing what we ought to be doing, how could a yearly holiday possibly add anything to our daily and weekly rituals--except for maybe the obligatory capitalization that we append to all holidays....

Now for a dramatic change in subject:

I think that loneliness is a substantial element of the human condition; it is the ubiquitous (though sometimes imperceptible) white noise of the soul--always there, just sometimes downed out by other emotions. I site the extremely young and the extremely old as my examples: I went to an Alzheimer's ward on Saturday, and it was amazing to me how lonely those folks were. I was there with my parents to visit an uncle, and some old lady walked up and grabbed my mother and I by the hands and started saying something about--I dunno--people with Alzheimer's, I quickly learned, don't make much sense even when you can understand the words they say. As soon as my dad found out what room my uncle was in, my mom pulled away from the old lady and followed my dad down the hall. The old lady clutched my hand tightly, looked into my eyes, and, nearly breaking into sobs, said, "You won't leave me--will you?" I was disarmed, and I let her pull me over to a couch, where I figured I'd sit next to her and listen to her jabber--something I was more than willing to do, given the sincerity of her loneliness--but my mother called me away, so I freed myself and went down the hall.

Of course, the old lady had Alzheimer's, so I'm sure that she quickly forgot all about it, though she seemed quite distraught at my hurried departure--but I didn't forget, and I found it very difficult to leave her. Now, I realize that, even if I had stayed and chatted with her for several hours, she would have forgotten all about it fairly quickly--I saw her less than an hour later, and she seemed to have no recollection of ever having met me, let alone of begging me to sit next to her on a couch--but the tear-filled eyes of an octogenarian, looking up at me from eyes as full of fear as a child faced with being alone in a dark room--they get to me, those eyes; they really do.

Little kids hate to be alone--hate to be alone. And I think that that is something we never really grow out of. Sure, we manage to bury the fear of solitude deep within ourselves, but I think it's always there. I am one who enjoys some alone time occasionally--indeed, I seek it out almost nightly--but I also realize that hermitizing is a crippling practice. God made us to be--

Wait a minute....

Kay, I was right: I was about to plagiarize a thmusing--unintentionally, but definitely. On 9 March 2008, Thmazing said, "Ever since I made the discovery almost a decade ago that God made us social creatures, I've never stopped riffing on the subject. Because it's true. We were built to need each other."

Right. We are social creatures--it's part of our hardwiring. And I believe that loneliness is a universal ailment. My hope is, of course, that one day I will get married, and my idle fantasy is that, from that day on, loneliness will simply go *POOF!*, but I don't really believe it. In fact, I'm afraid that, because loneliness will be less frequent, it will be far more potent when it hits.

But there is One whom we can always depend upon, One who will never leave us alone. And I imagine that no one in the history of this old world has ever been better acquainted with loneliness than He was--the most misunderstood Man to ever live, One who never had peers, One who was rejected by His own people.

Happy Easter.

Post 104

Hey everybody, keep on keepin' on!

Little optimism for the day: