It's 11:21 pm and instead of writing a draft for my upcoming English assignment, I'm sitting here writing this. It's just as well, though: I can hardly think of anything academic or intellectual in times like these. I might as well write about those things of which I can think, rather than those things which I can't.
Also, I realize that only one person regularly checks this blog (and God bless him for doing so!), so I consider this both a regular blog post for general readership (him) and for journaling my own thoughts.
Life has been hard lately. Moving to Texas wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. I left behind a familiar state, a familiar government (it sounds weird, I know, but there is something to be said for living down the block from your congressional representative, or the fact that your city council representative was also your high-school civics teacher. Both of which were true for me back in CA.) -- I also left behind familiar weather, familiar schooling and a whole set of cultural values to which I was accustomed. I left behind a cushy, virtually guaranteed job at our family company for a far less cushy, very much non-guaranteed job with strangers.
It would seem, from the way that I've framed it, that I've left behind a great deal without gaining very much. I have to admit that this does seem to be the case sometimes.
I find myself being an alien in an alien land. I don't know this place called Texas. I'm not from here. The plains and swamps of Texas aren't apart of me like the green forested coasts and noble snow-capped mountains of California are. No matter where I may roam, the gently trickling streams of the Yosemite Valley and the zany counter-culture of our inner cities will always flow through my veins. I guess learning to live with that is going to be just as much of a challenge as learning to adjust to a "new" place altogether.
Why did I move here in the first place? For my family.
I came for my father, of ill and declining health -- and far before his time, sadly -- to be with him and have some good memories, and perhaps even some healing of our relationship before he passes. Whether that happens tomorrow or 10 years from now is uncertain -- a fact that is strangely both comforting and infuriating. I came for my mother, who has long struggled (unsuccessfully) with alcohol and mental health issues, because she was overwhelmed by the demands of my father's sickness and the demands of raising a family at the same time. Its difficult to take out the garbage when your husband is throwing his guts up in the kitchen sink.
I came for my brother, who, for our entire lives together has been an enigma to me. I came to get closer, to be his actual brother rather than an elder stranger who just happens to show up at family events. This is one of the hardest things I've ever done, as he's my only brother, and I have no other examples to go on.
I came for my sister and her new family. I wanted to be apart of my new niece's life, to be the "cool uncle" that every child in the world deserves. So far, so good in that regard.
I came for my littlest sister, whom I adore, and whom I would do almost anything to protect.
I feel as if I've come here for noble reasons, and yet have been abandoned by the same Providence which demands my nobility. Although I can't claim to be a Christian anymore -- not by the traditional definition of that word, anyway -- the vision of Christ on the cross holds deep significance for me right now. The feeling of profound abandonment, even abandonment by God himself, is evident from (some) of Christ's last words. He feels forsaken -- or, perhaps a better translation -- betrayed. "My God, my God, why have you betrayed me?"
I, too, feel betrayed. Not so much by a God in which I don't really believe, but by Life itself -- which may as well be a kind of god now that I think about it. I feel betrayed by Life. As if my life could have amounted to a better kind of thing, but that this potential has been pulled out from underneath me.
But before I can complain about that, I must ask myself exactly what it means to have "a good life". Money? Power? Fame? Princess Di had all of those by the truckload, and she was absolutely miserable. You could say the same for most members of the European aristocracy for the past 1500 years, actually.
I think of someone like Mitt Romney, who -- as it appears to me -- is running for President for no other reason than he feels that such a high office was made by our founding father's with him personally in mind. I generally get the same feeling about Clintons, incidentally. Are they happy? Pursuing all that power at the expense of everything and everyone around them? Judging from what little I know of the Clinton's personal life, I'd have to say "No, they aren't very happy people."
And there is that word again. Happy. Is that what I mean by a "good life"? Being happy? I think thats what Socrates meant -- or one of those other greeks. So, then, I ask myself: what makes me happy? What is it that I enjoy the most?
Sex comes to mind, even though I've been absolutely bereft for over a year now. Learning comes to mind as well -- discovery of new things and stuff like that. But isn't sex itself a form of discovery? Isn't sex a learning experience -- even with someone you've been with before? So, really, then, learning, discovery and growth make me happy. All the things in my life that I truly enjoy can be seen as subsets of those three concepts.
As I sit here, I realize that something is missing. Learning, discovery and growth (from here on out, I will coin a term and refer to these three concepts together as a single word: "Lifeness") do make me happy, but none of them include "comfort". It sort of stands to reason that Lifeness implies some kind of discomfort, or at least a willingness to experience things that could hurt. Rocks cannot be hurt, since they cannot experience Lifeness. Yet, at times, I desire the comfort of stony rock-ness above Lifeness.
Yet is there some way to experience comfort in Life without the dulling of the mind or senses? I think specifically of my mother, who deadens her mind with alcohol to keep from feeling the full brunt of her situation. Is it possible to have both? A vigorous Lifeness and an abiding comfort in hard times -- which will inevitably come?
What do you think?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
My quarterly post
So its been, what -- three months since I posted? Not bad, really. Some people go their whole lives without writing.
It may be that I'll only have enough inspiration or gumption to write a single post every month, or even every quarter. Whatever. Blogging isn't a race, and I'm in no hurry anyway.
I'd like to take a few moments to talk about some of the events that shaped my life, for good or ill. I was inspired by this thread over at AskMefi. These are the things that have made me who I am today.
When I was about 13, I discovered porn on the internet. I discovered all sorts of weird, interesting and often disturbing things that people can do with their bodies. I also liked some of what I saw, and determined that deep down, I was perverted. I became very ashamed about it, and would carry these feelings of shame and anger with me for a long time.
Age 14: My mom began babysitting a troubled young boy from the neighborhood. My parents really needed the money from the boy's parents, so they agreed to watch him every day after school. I could tell the boy was troubled because he constantly acted-out sexually (he was only 7 or 8) and would often try to molest our household pets. I constantly warned my mother that the young boy was extremely dangerous and shouldn't be "let loose" in our household. My mom got really angry at me saying that it was "none of my business", and constantly repeated that she "needed the money anyways".
Eventually he tried to rape my 4 year old sister, but was caught before he could do any lasting harm. My mother never apologized for knowingly putting my sister in harms way to make more money.
Lesson learned: Grownups can be wrong. Grownups can't always be trusted to do whats right. Of course, as an adult, we are already supposed to know this, but for a child, this realization is a punch in the gut. It hurt to realize the truth about my mom, and it still hurts.
Age 21: I determine, though the wonders of statistical analysis, that there are so many porn websites on the internet that not only am *I* a somewhat kinky perv, but so is everyone else.
Lesson learned: There is a great comfort in knowing that nobody is as "moral" as I had imagined. It also helped me to set some new, more realistic goalposts for morality.
Age 22: I loose my virginity to a person who turns out to be a 1st class jerk. The sex was good, though.
Lesson learned: Love and lust are two very different things, and not always intertwined. The difference is that someone who loves you won't pretend that they never met you the next day.
Age 22: I tell my mom that I'm sexually active and have had sex with men. She promptly vows to disown me and throw me out of the house but is only convinced otherwise at the very last moment.
Lesson learned: A parent's "unconditional love" is often very conditional. Parents who really love you don't kick you to the curb because you're different than the child they "really" wanted.
Age 22: I discover that my upstanding, aloof and untouchable father is dying from heart failure, partly brought on by years of cocaine/heroin and painkiller abuse.
Lesson learned: There is almost always more than meets the eye.
Age 23: My mother announces to me that she is divorcing my father and divorcing me -- my father because he's a bad husband, me because I'm a "bad son" who "doesn't take care of his mother like a good son should". Eventually, she decides not to go through with the dual-divorce, but still maintains (to this day) that I should do more to take care of her "like a good son would".
Lesson learned: Sometimes "grownups" aren't. Sometimes kids are more mature than the "grownups". Some "grownups" never grew up, and probably never will.
Age 23-24: I've made some friends! A former attorney/Green Beret, a monk and a Poz mentor from Montreal.
Lesson learned: Believe it or not, there really are people out there who aren't crazy, aren't on drugs, aren't passive-aggressive and aren't rolling hurricanes of dysfunction. These people, who exist "out there" somewhere, have actually shown me more compassion than I could have expected from my own flesh and blood. That may be the most powerful lesson I've ever learned.
Overall, my life to this point has taught me to distrust authority and "parent figures". This goes a long way towards explaining why I'm not a Republican anymore. In fact, I try not to believe anything without evidence anymore. But I've also learned not to be so jaded that I couldn't recognize actual love and caring when it comes along. Love does exist in the world, despite my experience to the contrary.
Those are my lessons learned.
It may be that I'll only have enough inspiration or gumption to write a single post every month, or even every quarter. Whatever. Blogging isn't a race, and I'm in no hurry anyway.
I'd like to take a few moments to talk about some of the events that shaped my life, for good or ill. I was inspired by this thread over at AskMefi. These are the things that have made me who I am today.
When I was about 13, I discovered porn on the internet. I discovered all sorts of weird, interesting and often disturbing things that people can do with their bodies. I also liked some of what I saw, and determined that deep down, I was perverted. I became very ashamed about it, and would carry these feelings of shame and anger with me for a long time.
Age 14: My mom began babysitting a troubled young boy from the neighborhood. My parents really needed the money from the boy's parents, so they agreed to watch him every day after school. I could tell the boy was troubled because he constantly acted-out sexually (he was only 7 or 8) and would often try to molest our household pets. I constantly warned my mother that the young boy was extremely dangerous and shouldn't be "let loose" in our household. My mom got really angry at me saying that it was "none of my business", and constantly repeated that she "needed the money anyways".
Eventually he tried to rape my 4 year old sister, but was caught before he could do any lasting harm. My mother never apologized for knowingly putting my sister in harms way to make more money.
Lesson learned: Grownups can be wrong. Grownups can't always be trusted to do whats right. Of course, as an adult, we are already supposed to know this, but for a child, this realization is a punch in the gut. It hurt to realize the truth about my mom, and it still hurts.
Age 21: I determine, though the wonders of statistical analysis, that there are so many porn websites on the internet that not only am *I* a somewhat kinky perv, but so is everyone else.
Lesson learned: There is a great comfort in knowing that nobody is as "moral" as I had imagined. It also helped me to set some new, more realistic goalposts for morality.
Age 22: I loose my virginity to a person who turns out to be a 1st class jerk. The sex was good, though.
Lesson learned: Love and lust are two very different things, and not always intertwined. The difference is that someone who loves you won't pretend that they never met you the next day.
Age 22: I tell my mom that I'm sexually active and have had sex with men. She promptly vows to disown me and throw me out of the house but is only convinced otherwise at the very last moment.
Lesson learned: A parent's "unconditional love" is often very conditional. Parents who really love you don't kick you to the curb because you're different than the child they "really" wanted.
Age 22: I discover that my upstanding, aloof and untouchable father is dying from heart failure, partly brought on by years of cocaine/heroin and painkiller abuse.
Lesson learned: There is almost always more than meets the eye.
Age 23: My mother announces to me that she is divorcing my father and divorcing me -- my father because he's a bad husband, me because I'm a "bad son" who "doesn't take care of his mother like a good son should". Eventually, she decides not to go through with the dual-divorce, but still maintains (to this day) that I should do more to take care of her "like a good son would".
Lesson learned: Sometimes "grownups" aren't. Sometimes kids are more mature than the "grownups". Some "grownups" never grew up, and probably never will.
Age 23-24: I've made some friends! A former attorney/Green Beret, a monk and a Poz mentor from Montreal.
Lesson learned: Believe it or not, there really are people out there who aren't crazy, aren't on drugs, aren't passive-aggressive and aren't rolling hurricanes of dysfunction. These people, who exist "out there" somewhere, have actually shown me more compassion than I could have expected from my own flesh and blood. That may be the most powerful lesson I've ever learned.
Overall, my life to this point has taught me to distrust authority and "parent figures". This goes a long way towards explaining why I'm not a Republican anymore. In fact, I try not to believe anything without evidence anymore. But I've also learned not to be so jaded that I couldn't recognize actual love and caring when it comes along. Love does exist in the world, despite my experience to the contrary.
Those are my lessons learned.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Unbelievable
Astonishing. Amazing. Horrific.
The President of the United States of America, with a single stroke of his pen, can unilaterally decide which laws will be enforced and which laws can be broken.
He can't actually make the laws, of course. He doesn't need to. If one of his friends or supporters breaks the law, he can simply sign a letter and -- voila! -- its all done and over with.
Yes, I know: Presidential pardons and commutations are a grand ol' part of our Constitution and Republic. Well, it shouldn't be. Unlimited Presidential pardons turns the office of the Presidency into a Royal Court, where "L'Etat ces moi" is the only true standard of Justice.
All this while literally a million Americans rot in prisons and jails for non-violent offenses.
I began to dislike Bush shortly after the Iraq War started to go badly. I noticed that he was becoming oddly, dangerously aloof.
Not to "Godwin" myself, but Hitler had the same problem. He just wouldn't accept reports that portrayed the Eastern Front in a negative light. I believe it was Hermann Goering, who, in Hitler's final days in the bunker, told the Fuhrer (correctly) that an unstoppable force of 2,500 Soviet tanks were closing in on Berlin.
Hitler's response?
"You're lying".
This is Bush in a nutshell. 70% of his own people, plus the rest of humanity are dead set against him and his continued abuse of power. Yet he delivers this enormous slap in the face to the Justice System around the 4th of July, just for kicks.
What an incredibly evil man. My only fear is that the next President will be more of the same.
Maybe its time for a new constitution?
The President of the United States of America, with a single stroke of his pen, can unilaterally decide which laws will be enforced and which laws can be broken.
He can't actually make the laws, of course. He doesn't need to. If one of his friends or supporters breaks the law, he can simply sign a letter and -- voila! -- its all done and over with.
Yes, I know: Presidential pardons and commutations are a grand ol' part of our Constitution and Republic. Well, it shouldn't be. Unlimited Presidential pardons turns the office of the Presidency into a Royal Court, where "L'Etat ces moi" is the only true standard of Justice.
All this while literally a million Americans rot in prisons and jails for non-violent offenses.
I began to dislike Bush shortly after the Iraq War started to go badly. I noticed that he was becoming oddly, dangerously aloof.
Not to "Godwin" myself, but Hitler had the same problem. He just wouldn't accept reports that portrayed the Eastern Front in a negative light. I believe it was Hermann Goering, who, in Hitler's final days in the bunker, told the Fuhrer (correctly) that an unstoppable force of 2,500 Soviet tanks were closing in on Berlin.
Hitler's response?
"You're lying".
This is Bush in a nutshell. 70% of his own people, plus the rest of humanity are dead set against him and his continued abuse of power. Yet he delivers this enormous slap in the face to the Justice System around the 4th of July, just for kicks.
What an incredibly evil man. My only fear is that the next President will be more of the same.
Maybe its time for a new constitution?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Above The Ford
The cliffs on life's swift current are cleft by shallow valleys.
Masses have queued to cross there ---crowds of billy-goat milkers.
We'll go upstream, God willing,
to walk the hawk-high ridges
and pitch ourselves --- impetuous ---plumb in the roaring torrent!
-Jónas Hallgrímsson, 1844
Wouldn't you know it?
I tried to get some Kolaches yesterday but the damn Kolache Factory closes at 2pm. Can you believe that? I guess its just a breakfast and lunch place.
Today I'm going to try and head over to UH to talk to the financial Aid People. Wish me luck!
Today I'm going to try and head over to UH to talk to the financial Aid People. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Kolaches & Ikea
The Ikea delivery people came by today with my new bedroom set. I'm always impressed with the quality, workmanship and value of Ikea products, although we sorta screwed the pooch today.
Problem one: wrong tools. My dad gave away all of this tools before we moved to Texas, so despite being especially "user friendly", I still can't put together my dresser or nightstand -- as they both require a flathed screw driver.
Also, we forgot to buy a critical piece for the bed: the midbeam. Ikea has a funny system where you need to buy each piece of your large item separately. Well, we forgot it, which means no bed for me until later this week at the earliest. On the plus side, though, they did deliver the mattress, and I must say very comfortable, even if I'm just sleeping on the floor with it. Funny how us Swedes can make a bad situation tolerable.
In other news, I want to try some local Kolaches. Alot of Czechs moved to Texas in the past two centuries, and they brought their signature pastries with them. I've never had one (although I suspect that they'll be surprisingly similar to the "Danishes" that I grew up with), but they're supposedly a little different and very good. I'll try them out and report back.
Problem one: wrong tools. My dad gave away all of this tools before we moved to Texas, so despite being especially "user friendly", I still can't put together my dresser or nightstand -- as they both require a flathed screw driver.
Also, we forgot to buy a critical piece for the bed: the midbeam. Ikea has a funny system where you need to buy each piece of your large item separately. Well, we forgot it, which means no bed for me until later this week at the earliest. On the plus side, though, they did deliver the mattress, and I must say very comfortable, even if I'm just sleeping on the floor with it. Funny how us Swedes can make a bad situation tolerable.
In other news, I want to try some local Kolaches. Alot of Czechs moved to Texas in the past two centuries, and they brought their signature pastries with them. I've never had one (although I suspect that they'll be surprisingly similar to the "Danishes" that I grew up with), but they're supposedly a little different and very good. I'll try them out and report back.
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