unexpendable

today i realized that there is no aspect of my life which, if i made a major life change, would not be severely inconvenienced at best by my absence. and although that does give weight to the decisions i make, it is also, in a sense, something i've always wanted.

calling

lately i’ve been doing a lot of rereading of old blog posts, which has been a trip in multiple senses of the word. but i’ve been reminded that i used to spend a lot of time thinking about “calling” and what that means, and if it even exists, and how to find out what yours is.

i’ve heard a lot of varying opinions about this, and i still don’t have a proper definition. according to Frederick Buechner, "vocation is where our deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." but when i hear a lot of people talk about calling, they make it sound almost like destiny, and their deep gladness becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, or else they become disillusioned in the pursuit of it. Biblically, when prophets or leaders were called, it was often not for pleasant tasks, and, more importantly, they were generally specifically appointed. is it overthinking to ask questions about calling? it's an interesting exercise, but is it a useful or an accurate one?

but in examining the way i’ve been living my life and the way others live their lives, i think my perspective has changed. in doing my best to live out my life as i learn what matters most to God, i think in a lot of ways, my “calling” has…… sort of just played itself out (so far)? like i spend a lot of time doing what i care about and what interests me, but also trying to align my priorities with what matters more to God. and i can’t measure what positive effect that has had in the world and those around me, if any. but i can see that the approach itself has been fairly unique, and some of the resulting relationships and effects make me think i’ve been filling some little niche that would otherwise go unnoticed. maybe it's more beneficial just to take the next step than to try to figure out all the steps beyond it.

throughline

sometimes when people talk about their growth, they talk about it in terms of "phases," or they speak of their past as though the subject of it were a completely different person from them. i don't quite relate to this. in general, the person i was ten or fifteen years ago was someone who was laying down the foundation for the belief structures of who i am today, but many of my baseline premises and beliefs about life have remained the same; they've just become more nuanced.

having said that, there have been seasons in my life that have felt like they've had somewhat distinct boundary lines, especially based on what i was doing or feeling, or who was in my life at the time. not that i become a drastically different person from one season to the next, but the ways that i interact with the world are often different because the situations i find myself in draw out and encourage growth in different parts of me. interestingly, sometimes i am not even aware of the shift from one season to another until well after it happens.

but the past few months have been strange for me because i am intentionally trying out new ways of looking at and experiencing the world with the expectation that this probably is one of those key shifting times. at the same time, i have also been doing a fair amount of looking back at previous seasons and the thought patterns i have used in them. and it's weird because i remember thinking those things, and even when i agree with what i've said or thought in the past, some of the ways i approached life and expressed myself when i was younger no longer feel quite at home in my head anymore. i think i like the idea of tying the different seasons of my life together with throughlines, like a cohesive story, even though i know that a person is not only one trait, or even a handful of traits, but rather a whole spectrum of traits--tools that they can call upon if they wish, which they may utilize differently at different times of life. anyway, i think i've been feeling a bit distant from how i'm used to imagining myself. nothing i'm too worried about, but it is a strange feeling.

but you? you know every version of me. and what changes have taken place, and what caused the changes. you have walked with me through all of it. sometimes i lose track of my relationship with you and i expect to turn around and find that it has atrophied away. but you're still there. it forces me to recognize that, as with Abraham, you have fulfilled the entire covenant yourself. you keep me grounded because your understanding and affection have remained constant, even when i have been prone to letting things die of neglect, and you have pulled me back from the edge of darkness more times than i have even recognized. in a way, because i believe you, and you know every part of me, i can reckon with the changes and accept them as character growth.

paper towns

how much of me just wants to be found?  and also, how much of me is trying to [re?]create something by starting to imagine that it’s there?

i've been thinking a lot lately about ideas versus reality. most of this blog reflects my tendency to live inside my head a lot. it is very easy for me to get lost in my own feelings and ideas and theories. in a sense, i still feel like that makes life interesting and deep.

the thing is, most of those things can very easily act as substitutes for reality. especially for a perfectionist, it's tempting to theorize about life so much that i don't spend much time actually gaining experience in the things that i theorize about. to once again lift an example straight from a vlogbrothers video, i can spend all the time in the world planning how to create the perfect pot, but when it actually comes time to make it, it's going to be much less effective than just making 100 progressively less crappy pots.

in a similar, though not the same, vein, it is very tempting to learn a lot about a person without actually testing these ideas about them out in reality. in so doing, you can form a sort of fantasy version of a person by filtering them though the lens of your own imagination.

perhaps this is one reason it takes me so long to get to know people. it takes time to be able to decipher the difference between assumptions and reality.

retropost: a plank in reason broke

author's note: this is a post i started writing on march 24, 2021. i didn't finish it, and the context in which it was begun has passed. but i will do my best to finish what i started, because i still think that it's important. if you like, you can read it in the context of whatever else i was writing at the time. in my memory, this post is fairly well indicative of what that time was like.

~ ~ ~

not a lot of people know this, but i took mma classes for about a year. i liked the idea of combining exercise with the ability to defend myself, should i need to. it felt empowering to think that should i find myself in a potentially dangerous situation, i would not be completely and entirely helpless.

but one class in particular stands out in my mind. that day, Sifu didn't have any new punches or combos for us. instead, we were to practice taking hits in a way that would protect vitals--the head and sensory organs mostly, but also, to an extent, the internal organs. of course, we had done blocking and parrying of strikes before, but that was more about watching our opponents and avoiding their attacks. in this case, there was no avoiding. we were instructed to say something if it ever became too much. when it came to it, i didn't have to do that, but it was still an odd feeling--being able to do nothing except cover my head with my arms and accept hit after hit after hit. afterwards my arms were sore and bruised for over a week. it was a strange class, and some might even question the wisdom of it--something i hadn't really considered until i started getting questions about my bruises.

~ ~ ~

i am fairly good at blocking and parrying. in the metaphorical sense. in the physical sense, i'm not much of an athlete, and my general coordination is, at most, average by the most generous of estimates. but in life? a strategist. perhaps my greatest strength and weakness is thinking through all the possibilities, and seeing challenges from a mile away. (even in my mma class, i improved mainly by analyzing and choreographing in my head, rather than through force or instinct!) this skill allows me to avoid and redirect problems often enough for me to consider it an asset.

but like, it's an asset in the same way that i used to consider perfectionism to be an asset. which is to say, it can be extremely beneficial, until it intoxicates and corrupts you from the inside. this is what overthinking does to me. the same skill that helps me see many future possibilities can become the one that shows me why none of them end well. the same skill that helps me analyze past events is the same one that nitpicks and accuses me of every shortcoming. and the same skill that helps me understand multiple perspectives is the same one that makes me question my own, until i can no longer be sure of what is true. ironic that something that is supposed to sort through information can make things so much less clear, right?

so very easily, this overpowered rumination can be used against me, and let me tell you, it is a force to be reckoned with. i left out something important, actually. the main point of this mma class was to teach self-defense techniques to women--not to win or to take down attackers, which would, in many situations, be a losing battle, but to buy enough time to get away. there are times when your enemy is just bigger and stronger than you, and you alone have no chance against them. with all your strategies, you can't fend off the attacks forever--even attacks against your character, your values, your relationships, your perceptions of yourself, your very understanding of what is true and good and right--you may not even be able to fight back at all, especially when the hits just keep coming at you. at a certain point, the best you can do is to stop engaging. you put your head down, try to protect your vitals, take the hits as they come, and survive. and pray that in the end, the damage you do take is healable.

sketches on grief

when a loss happens, the second decision i make is how to grieve. the first is how to continue on.

grief is strange. often when we talk about grief, it’s in the wake of a death. and that is obviously fitting. but the thing is, grief can be experienced in way more ways, and for way more reasons. besides death, there are so many other kinds of losses to grieve. and in my experience, those can be much harder to process.

now, a disclaimer: there are a lot of sides and types of death i have no experience with, so i am not trying to make comprehensive statements here. but i have some small variety of experiences, and it is of those i speak, hopefully with respect.

death of loved ones is obviously difficult , and important. but weirdly, with most deaths i’ve experienced, i’ve been able to process the grief relatively quickly. it’s also worth noting that in most of these cases, they have been people i did not see very often, and so even though the grief itself was hard, i was able to carry on in my daily rhythms without much change in pace.

but there are other things i grieve differently. loss of friendship has probably been the worst. which is weird, right? like if you’re definitely never going to see someone again (at least on this side of eternity) shouldn’t it be harder than facing a situation where you have the potential of rekindling a relationship with someone? and yet, i think that’s part of it. when every potential future is gone for good, it’s not easy, but it can be more simple (again, speaking out of only my own experience). there are no decisions to be made or actions to be taken to stop the loss from happening. all there is to do is accept it. relational loss is different because it’s harder to see when there are still options in front of you, and also whether or not you should take them if there are. it’s difficult not to bear some responsibility for the failure because technically the potential for it to resurrect or come out of stasis is always there, and perhaps you are constantly choosing not to act on it. furthermore, a relationship is something that two people contribute to, and often both share the responsibility if it fails. so to grieve this is to grieve not only the loss, but also your part in it, potentially while continuing to affirm the decision by staying separate.

gross. (pt 1?)

not sure if i've talked about this outright here before, but it seems like i have kind of a disdain for romantic desire. for myself at least, and only some of the time for other people. it's not that i feel that way about romance generally, though my feelings about that have been complicated at times. it's more the actual feeling, the desire, specifically within myself, that makes me uncomfortable.

"isn't it the function of desire to be uncomfortable? to push you forward toward something?"

kind of. but i'm not uncomfortable as a result of what the feeling does, i'm uncomfortable because of what the feeling is. i think i may be too proud of a person, in other words. romantic desire makes me feel foolish and undignified, so i think i've generally resisted it.

"but that's pretty judgmental, isn't it? romance isn't foolish, it's beautiful!"

it may, in fact, be judgmental. and that's sort of true, romance isn't foolish, but it often drives people to act foolishly (at least, in appearance). and even if they don't act foolishly, there is a sense of feeling foolish in the way romance can consume a person. it makes them vulnerable.

“so you’re afraid of vulnerability?”

maybe, in a sense. or rather, i see the advantages to self-sufficiency. the idea (flawed though it may be) is that you’re stronger if you don’t need other people, or at least, if you don’t need a specific other. in some ways, mutual vulnerability is one of the things i want the most, but it can be unstable. if you know how to be self-sufficient, it may be less fulfilling, but it feels more stable because you are (more) in control—of yourself and your situation. so it’s not really vulnerability i want to avoid, but emotional and relational instability.

this vulnerability is not only true of romantic relationships, by the way, but that is the most extreme form of it.

i sort of think vulnerability is not the whole answer, but i don't really know the whole answer. why, for example, would it be embarrassing to have feelings for someone? does it make you seem weak? exposed? sappy? perhaps it depends on the circumstances. i may need to come back to this.

emotion is a performance art

i used to believe that i was just not a very outwardly expressive person. whether or not that was actually true is debatable, but at the very least, i have a strong distinction in my mind between strong emotions and the prudence of allowing them to be seen. keeping my cards close to my chest, for most of my memory, has been the default option.

in any case, i think i have developed over time, through a fair amount of observation and mimicry, a more normal way of interacting with the world. not to say that i am, or have ever felt, anything like "normal," if that’s even a thing. rather, i have grown accustomed to projecting my personality and thoughts (at times) to be more extreme or evident than they would naturally express themselves, so that i would be more easily known.

which, like, we all do to some extent, right? we all find ways to project some version or another of who we are. it's not even fake to do so, i think. no person is all and exclusively one way.

so it seems like there is a performative nature to self expression, no matter how you slice it. this becomes even more evident when you are deliberately trying to communicate with others. for example: maybe you give me a birthday present, and it's something i feel very excited about. i might not naturally express a lot of excitement normally, even if i feel it. but for your benefit, i might make a show of acting very excited, so that you will correctly understand the truth, that i am actually excited and pleased by this. it's strange because i have to go the extra mile and exaggerate in order to correctly convey the truth.

so the strange question becomes this: how much of expression is a performance for someone else's benefit, and how much of it is "genuine"? if i express myself (in face, in voice, or in action) in a way that feels genuine to me but gives someone else a wrong idea of my meaning, is that more or less "true" than creating a "performance" to help them understand me better?

also, this gets even more twisted once you start to see expression not only as an outpouring of yourself, but a reinforcement or a teaching to yourself. so does my expressing something externally make it more true, like a self-fulfilling prophecy? if, for example, i laugh loudly at something, do i reinforce my own feeling of amusement?

i know my definitions are a mess here, which is making this harder to sort through. what does it mean for something to be true, vs. genuine? my immediate thought is "what i mean in my head" vs. "the effect caused inevitably or unconsciously by what's happening in my head," respectively. whereas by performance, i mean "something i am doing intentionally, to produce a specific effect." and by expression, i mean "the way i appear, sound, or act in response to something." anyway, moving on!

weirdly, this kind of ties back into my belief that we ourselves are something that we are simultaneously discovering and deciding. my "self-expression," as an extension of "myself" is, to some extent, something that flows out of who i am. and in a way, so does the way i make decisions about that expression. but also, to some extent, the expressions (and the decisions to respond in those ways) inform the trajectory of who i grow into.