Monday, December 11, 2017
psa
psa/reminder to all students, ever (especially the college variety): as the semester/year progresses, you will need more sleep, not less. you will find yourself requiring more breaks for mindless activities, not fewer. and you will have more big assignments due, and more extracurricular events happening, not fewer. it can be effective to power through finals week on coffee and panicked willpower, but it's undeniably better not to have to resort to that. so please, for the love of yourself, make plans and decisions with these things in mind.
Thursday, April 13, 2017
an alternate allegory (a tribute to Princess Tutu)
once upon a time, there was a prince who had lost his heart.
fortunately, he was loved by a swan, who took on the purpose of
returning the lost shards of the prince's heart to him. but when the
swan returned one of the shards of the prince's heart, it turned out to
be contaminated by the blood of the raven. its own heart full of pain,
the swan did the only thing that would truly heal the prince: it took up
its sword and pierced the prince's heart, shattering it to pieces once
more. the swan carefully picked up all the shards of the prince's heart and
held them tightly. the shards pierced through feathers and skin, and they were soon covered in the swan's blood. when the swan offered them back to
the prince, however, the heart shards were clean and uncontaminated. as
they entered the prince's chest, his heart became healthy and whole.
but he wondered: was it the breaking, or the swan's blood that made this
possible?
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
things like chemistry
but really though. of all the metaphors--chemistry??? like, did the people who originally thought of that ever actually take a chemistry class?
sorry, let me restart.
i find it interesting, and somewhat misleading, that people who seem to hit it off, especially romantically, are said to have chemistry. i mean, it's so quantitative. chemistry is so full of equations and formulas, and it's so precise.
but sometimes it just doesn't add up. all the numbers could be there, and yet when they come together, 2+2=5. or more appropriately, CO2 + N2 = 2H2O.
and so many people think (or perhaps feel would be more accurate) that they personally have made a mistake if they don't get the girl in the end (...or the guy... or whatever). that they were so stupid, or that it's somehow their fault. when sometimes (not always), the truth is that there just aren't measurable reasons. i could see how that could be both encouraging and infuriating.
perhaps a more truthful metaphor would be to say that two people have a roaring campfire in the middle of a forest. hmm... it just doesn't have the same ring to it though, you know?
sorry, let me restart.
i find it interesting, and somewhat misleading, that people who seem to hit it off, especially romantically, are said to have chemistry. i mean, it's so quantitative. chemistry is so full of equations and formulas, and it's so precise.
but sometimes it just doesn't add up. all the numbers could be there, and yet when they come together, 2+2=5. or more appropriately, CO2 + N2 = 2H2O.
and so many people think (or perhaps feel would be more accurate) that they personally have made a mistake if they don't get the girl in the end (...or the guy... or whatever). that they were so stupid, or that it's somehow their fault. when sometimes (not always), the truth is that there just aren't measurable reasons. i could see how that could be both encouraging and infuriating.
perhaps a more truthful metaphor would be to say that two people have a roaring campfire in the middle of a forest. hmm... it just doesn't have the same ring to it though, you know?
Monday, January 30, 2017
mountaintop
finally, one last step lifted him to the top of the mountain. he lifted his eyes, and the scene took his breath away.
the whole world, it seemed, spanned before him. he looked out to the east, where the mountain sank into a desert, beyond which was a glistening sea. his eyes panned over the scene to the south, from whence he had come. most of the path was shrouded in greenery: the seemingly tiny tops of trees, which stretched from the base of the mountain out to the distant horizon. he followed the outline of the forest to a flatter land toward the west. in the distance, he could just make out tiny squarish shapes silhouetted in the setting sun: his old village. taking a deep breath, he fixed his gaze on the northern path ahead of him. it followed a plain into a set of valleys, set deep in towering hills.
he sat down with his back to the sunset, and poured out the contents of his pack. something smallish tumbled out and caught his gaze--and also his nose: a rough wooden box emitting a foul smell. nose wrinkled, he picked up the box and immediately found the source of the stench. a number of shards littered the box, the remains of a sand dollar collected by his cousin from the beach soon before his journey had begun. after dumping out the rest of the box's contents, he put the shards back into the box, which itself had begun to reek of rotten sea life. then he began to examine the rest of the box's contents.
a bit of gold shined from the pile. he picked up a gold necklace in the shape of the sun. the way it caught the light of the campfire gave it a smooth, almost fluid look, as though it were the purest substance in the world. his father's engraved initials crowned the sun and made it glitter faintly. he gently laid it out on top of his pack. as he did so, he noticed the bright colors of a rock with a painted-on face. it was smooth, and though it was not very big, it was weighty. an inside joke from a much earlier hiking trip with some of his friends. next to the rock was a dried daisy chain. rueful pangs hit him as he recalled its giver, several years prior. but then he noticed the last item from the box: a crumpled piece of paper. he picked it up and flattened it out. written on it was a series of messages from those who had supported his journey. he glossed over the words of encouragement and fortitude. sighing, he gathered the box of sand dollar shards and the daisy chain and threw them into the fire. he placed the rock beside the fire pit. then he lay down, and soon dropped off to sleep, the paper still in his hand.
awakening with the sunrise, he began to gather his things and stamp out the few remaining embers of his fire. the paper tucked securely into his jacket pocket and the golden sun fastened around his neck, he looked out at the cloudy horizon once more. adopting an optimistic smile, he pulled on his pack and set out on the path ahead of him. this was just the beginning.
the whole world, it seemed, spanned before him. he looked out to the east, where the mountain sank into a desert, beyond which was a glistening sea. his eyes panned over the scene to the south, from whence he had come. most of the path was shrouded in greenery: the seemingly tiny tops of trees, which stretched from the base of the mountain out to the distant horizon. he followed the outline of the forest to a flatter land toward the west. in the distance, he could just make out tiny squarish shapes silhouetted in the setting sun: his old village. taking a deep breath, he fixed his gaze on the northern path ahead of him. it followed a plain into a set of valleys, set deep in towering hills.
he sat down with his back to the sunset, and poured out the contents of his pack. something smallish tumbled out and caught his gaze--and also his nose: a rough wooden box emitting a foul smell. nose wrinkled, he picked up the box and immediately found the source of the stench. a number of shards littered the box, the remains of a sand dollar collected by his cousin from the beach soon before his journey had begun. after dumping out the rest of the box's contents, he put the shards back into the box, which itself had begun to reek of rotten sea life. then he began to examine the rest of the box's contents.
a bit of gold shined from the pile. he picked up a gold necklace in the shape of the sun. the way it caught the light of the campfire gave it a smooth, almost fluid look, as though it were the purest substance in the world. his father's engraved initials crowned the sun and made it glitter faintly. he gently laid it out on top of his pack. as he did so, he noticed the bright colors of a rock with a painted-on face. it was smooth, and though it was not very big, it was weighty. an inside joke from a much earlier hiking trip with some of his friends. next to the rock was a dried daisy chain. rueful pangs hit him as he recalled its giver, several years prior. but then he noticed the last item from the box: a crumpled piece of paper. he picked it up and flattened it out. written on it was a series of messages from those who had supported his journey. he glossed over the words of encouragement and fortitude. sighing, he gathered the box of sand dollar shards and the daisy chain and threw them into the fire. he placed the rock beside the fire pit. then he lay down, and soon dropped off to sleep, the paper still in his hand.
awakening with the sunrise, he began to gather his things and stamp out the few remaining embers of his fire. the paper tucked securely into his jacket pocket and the golden sun fastened around his neck, he looked out at the cloudy horizon once more. adopting an optimistic smile, he pulled on his pack and set out on the path ahead of him. this was just the beginning.
a major gift
music is math. each interval, each chord, has its precise frequencies that combine to produce an effect like none other. it's each rhythm, measured out in value, saying the same thing, but in a different way.
music is physics. it's the way each wavelength individually travels to each person's ear. it's the way it resonates in the instrument, in the vocal cords, and in the room.
music is energy. it is also rest. it can invigorate and excite me, even while easing my mind and putting me to sleep.
music is history. mankind's timeline. composer's past.
music is exercise. air in, air out, dextrous fingers, strong arms, quick feet, grace. the effect a workout has on the body is the much of same effect music has on the state of mind.
music is my first language. it can say anything. even some things i can't say in English, i can say in music.
music is code. only a few can decipher it. if there's something i can't or won't say out loud, i can still express it through music without completely revealing myself.
music is art. each musician has his own unique style, his own color scheme, and his own perspective.
music is expression. it can give meaning to any feeling or any situation. it complements and conforms to almost whatever mood i am in.
music is soul. it takes me on adventures into new worlds, with new perspectives, from different hearts. but when i am not myself, even when i forget exactly what "myself" is, music helps to remind me, and brings me back home.
music is alive. each piece or song has its own unique personality. it's my friend. when i am alone and i don't want to be, it makes it more bearable, sometimes even enjoyable.
music is God-sent. only One that supreme could create something that beautiful to help reveal Someone even greater.
music is physics. it's the way each wavelength individually travels to each person's ear. it's the way it resonates in the instrument, in the vocal cords, and in the room.
music is energy. it is also rest. it can invigorate and excite me, even while easing my mind and putting me to sleep.
music is history. mankind's timeline. composer's past.
music is exercise. air in, air out, dextrous fingers, strong arms, quick feet, grace. the effect a workout has on the body is the much of same effect music has on the state of mind.
music is my first language. it can say anything. even some things i can't say in English, i can say in music.
music is code. only a few can decipher it. if there's something i can't or won't say out loud, i can still express it through music without completely revealing myself.
music is art. each musician has his own unique style, his own color scheme, and his own perspective.
music is expression. it can give meaning to any feeling or any situation. it complements and conforms to almost whatever mood i am in.
music is soul. it takes me on adventures into new worlds, with new perspectives, from different hearts. but when i am not myself, even when i forget exactly what "myself" is, music helps to remind me, and brings me back home.
music is alive. each piece or song has its own unique personality. it's my friend. when i am alone and i don't want to be, it makes it more bearable, sometimes even enjoyable.
music is God-sent. only One that supreme could create something that beautiful to help reveal Someone even greater.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
avoidance of pain
a couple years ago i wrote a post declaring that avoiding awkwardness was not my entire purpose in life.
today i take a similar stand, but possibly a slightly more delicate one. today i declare that it is not my life's purpose to avoid getting hurt.
before you protest, or point out that i shouldn't sacrifice my safety (physical or emotional), just know that i know already. i realize that there are a lot of legitimate dangers out there to which it would be extremely unwise to lower my guard. this isn't exactly about that though.
i don't particularly enjoy pain. emotionally, i'm maybe more sensitive to it than many. i am aware that i'm very capable of being hurt without anyone's knowledge or malicious intention. but even when i want to shy away or withdraw from situations for fear that i will get hurt, i need to remember that sometimes, some things are more important than getting through unscathed.
this post is as much a reminder and goal for myself as it is a marker.
today i take a similar stand, but possibly a slightly more delicate one. today i declare that it is not my life's purpose to avoid getting hurt.
before you protest, or point out that i shouldn't sacrifice my safety (physical or emotional), just know that i know already. i realize that there are a lot of legitimate dangers out there to which it would be extremely unwise to lower my guard. this isn't exactly about that though.
i don't particularly enjoy pain. emotionally, i'm maybe more sensitive to it than many. i am aware that i'm very capable of being hurt without anyone's knowledge or malicious intention. but even when i want to shy away or withdraw from situations for fear that i will get hurt, i need to remember that sometimes, some things are more important than getting through unscathed.
this post is as much a reminder and goal for myself as it is a marker.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
like a child
i lost count of the total number of times i've been told to "cover my ears" a long time ago.
but the same implications have been made at least four times in the past week.
my offense at this annoyance has nothing to do with actually being innocent. i have no desire to hear foul language or to laugh at the innuendos birthed of a filthy mind. and it's a waste of my time to pursue an understanding of these things. my life has already been claimed, and i spend it trying to become a better version of myself. it's not an aversion to non-guilt that bothers me.
but when someone calls me "innocent," or "naive," or tells me to cover my ears, or tells someone else not to say certain things in front of me, or even avoids showing me certain things, i can't help but be annoyed. it doesn't imply righteousness, or purity, or respectability--at least not in a good way. what it really implies is inexperience, gullibility, a simple mind, childishness, and the inability to handle life maturely. perhaps it could be argued that people who say such things exhibit these latter qualities themselves. doesn't make it less frustrating.
i guess here's the point, as i rant on tirelessly to the choir: i choose purity--of mind, of mouth, of action. that's not to say i'm perfect by any standard, but this is the path i try to stay on. i don't follow it because i don't know any differently, or because there's a big, scary, sinful world out there that i want to isolate myself from. i've seen it. it's honestly nothing new to me. it's nothing special. it holds nothing for me.
if people want to restrain themselves from cursing or innuendos or graphic references around me, that's fine by me. but i wish they would do it not out of a desire to protect a helpless child who managed to never grow into an adult mind, but out of virtue, or at least out of respect for someone who strives for it.
on the other hand, maybe this is what is supposed to be happening: a divide between the Church and the world. so maybe i should stop ranting and just be glad that my faith is having a noticeable effect on the way i live.
but the same implications have been made at least four times in the past week.
my offense at this annoyance has nothing to do with actually being innocent. i have no desire to hear foul language or to laugh at the innuendos birthed of a filthy mind. and it's a waste of my time to pursue an understanding of these things. my life has already been claimed, and i spend it trying to become a better version of myself. it's not an aversion to non-guilt that bothers me.
but when someone calls me "innocent," or "naive," or tells me to cover my ears, or tells someone else not to say certain things in front of me, or even avoids showing me certain things, i can't help but be annoyed. it doesn't imply righteousness, or purity, or respectability--at least not in a good way. what it really implies is inexperience, gullibility, a simple mind, childishness, and the inability to handle life maturely. perhaps it could be argued that people who say such things exhibit these latter qualities themselves. doesn't make it less frustrating.
i guess here's the point, as i rant on tirelessly to the choir: i choose purity--of mind, of mouth, of action. that's not to say i'm perfect by any standard, but this is the path i try to stay on. i don't follow it because i don't know any differently, or because there's a big, scary, sinful world out there that i want to isolate myself from. i've seen it. it's honestly nothing new to me. it's nothing special. it holds nothing for me.
if people want to restrain themselves from cursing or innuendos or graphic references around me, that's fine by me. but i wish they would do it not out of a desire to protect a helpless child who managed to never grow into an adult mind, but out of virtue, or at least out of respect for someone who strives for it.
on the other hand, maybe this is what is supposed to be happening: a divide between the Church and the world. so maybe i should stop ranting and just be glad that my faith is having a noticeable effect on the way i live.
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