Halloween on the 3rd floor: best day ever

Because Halloween at our workplace brought out the inner child.

I miss my bed

so sleepy

I may not have a significant other 

but I have a significantly comfortable bed that I can’t wait to go home to.

needing people

Even though I’m an introvert, and according to some tests, heavily so, I feel much better right now after getting out of my seat to talk to coworkers about Halloween plans, having sat at my desk for hours. I used to think that the only conversation worth going out of my way for was talking about the meaning of existence or something depressing, but goodness, I really need people to converse with period. I need to be in relationship with others.

That was after all what I was made for.

Amazing Race, Settlers, and Alien Frontiers

Two metaphors for life came to me yesterday as I was walking to and from the bus stop. They were quite wonderful for me to think about.

Metaphor 1: our journey with God to God is like the show The Amazing Race, but an extended version. In the Amazing Race, people journey to a predetermined destination and face tons of obstacles and challenges along the way. People are aware that they are headed to this destination, but they don’t know where all the connecting stops are that lead there. Working through one challenge points them to the next and the next until they make it to the end. You really have to get creative, using whatever limited information you have to move forwards.

This is a great metaphor for me because I love the idea of that show and if I were to be on a game-show, it would be that one for sure. The thing is that, life being an extended version of Amazing Race, participants often forget that they were ever journeying towards a destination. They don’t remember that the challenges and obstacles all help point you to where you need to go and grow you in some way. They get wrapped up in the details and miss the bigger picture. When the timer runs out, there’s a snap back to reality, but it’s too late by then, the game has ended and you have long since headed in a different direction.

Give careful thought to the paths for your feet
    and be steadfast in all your ways.
Do not turn to the right or the left;
    keep your foot from evil. (Proverbs 4:26-27)

Metaphor 2: what we do on our journey with God to God is like a playing a turn in Settlers or Alien Frontiers. We’re all dealt a hand or pieces at the start of the game. How you put them down on the table is key. Sometimes you choose to settle on a poor choice of resources and from then on, you’re slow to expand. Sometimes you choose to settle on a great choice and with each roll of dice, you expand more and more. There are so many turns where you spend preparing for the next turn and when that next turn comes, all the pieces are in place so you just lay down your hand in the strategic order you’ve been keeping track of in your head, racking up points. But whether you start off poorly or start off well, you keep playing the game looking forwards.

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13-14)

breakdown -> breakthrough

My mom called me asking me how my day was and I told her that I had been in Pomona meeting up with RW. About 6 years ago, an unexpected encounter with RW had changed my life course and inspired me to do incarnational ministry in E. Oakland so the fact that I was speaking with a flat affect about RW prompted my mom to ask me if I was ok. She asked me why I sounded so tired and after some prodding I told her that I was thinking of talking to R. I really did not want to tell my parents, but something tugged at me to be honest about that. My dad came on the line completely shocked, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”

And so I confessed again that I had been wanting to talk to R, that I missed him. From this point on, my mom shared with me some amazing insight that she had about R. My mom told me that in the last two weeks, this whole thing with R had been bothering her too and she was looking back reflecting on what exactly happened between R and I. She started off making the same observation that G had told me, that I liked him a lot more than he liked me. She said she knew intuitively that something was off when in December we invited him to join us to watch The Nutcracker and after R took our family photo for us since my brother and sister in law were visiting, she found it strange that when my sister in law asked R to come in the picture, he refused. She said at the time, she brushed it off that he was shy or something. The second time this happened was when we invited him to a family friend’s house for New Years Eve and the details are just depressing so I’ll stop there.

I wanted to know what was going on in R’s head and my mom’s analysis actually gave me a lot of peace. She said that he had loved F once in his life and that for one reason or another, never pursued her, but she stuck in his heart and his mind. Since then, he would live his live glancing backwards and wonder whether or not to go back and pick things up, he never did. When he met me, he liked me, but would still look back and wonder about F. In doing so, he overlooked the fact that he had stumbled upon a pearl because he kept turning back to look at a rock. (At this point, I’m feeling pretty sad because this is all resonating with me, but I appreciate the pearl part)

Now my dad takes over the phone and he talks about how Abe Lincoln fired a man for looking bad. When asked why, Lincoln responded that a 40 year old man ought to know how to take care of himself and appear presentable. To not do so would indicate that there was something deeply wrong with this man and he did not wish for this man to work for him. In the same vein, a 3o year old ought to know to let go of past relationships before entering a new one. “Abraham Lincoln would never hire him”. Now my dad is getting worked up and he says “in my dictionary, these kinds of people don’t exist”.

My mom continues with her analysis, which is again spot on. She says that in dating me, R had started to compare me with F and was reminded that he loved her. For instance, R has told me that I remind me of his sister and it had caused him some stress. Subconsciously, he probably thought of how F was different, etc etc.

My dad takes over the phone. Bringing up past relationships to the current person you are dating is boasting, how can you compare another girl to your girlfriend in her presence? My dad is getting angry, I can hear it in his tone. He tells me that he’s become furious and that he had just changed his mind about R. He is no longer sympathetic or empathetic. He no longer feels bad for R. R is no longer just an immature guy. R, in failing to deal with his own past, has let his burden become my own. My dad is losing his temper and saying that he is going to say some things. My mom takes the phone from him and tells me that the thought of him near me makes her very unsettled, anxious- “wo bu fang xing”. My dad starts speaking again and he just tells me “escape, run away, and do not fall into this trap. this is from the devil. if you start thinking about R, just say in the name of Jesus, stop tempting me”.

I think he’s right. Thoughts of R have been consuming me since I last broke it off with him. Consuming in the worst sense, like I cannot focus on other things. After talking to my parents, I feel like I gained some new clarity that has helped me reach a level of break-through in my heart. Prior to this, I had known in my mind that I needed to move on but the heart change only occurred tonight. Thank you God for speaking to me through my parents. They used to tag team me on annoying things but tonight they tag teamed me out of despair.

Cooking for others

Something that I learned recently is that I can cook for other people. It just requires raising my standards and following directions, two things I naturally highly dislike. An acceptable meal for myself is cooking eggs in the microwave, putting ketchup on stove-cooked chicken, and then getting some vitamins via salad greens. It’s just a matter of being full in the shortest amount of time. But over time, I think I rather enjoy the act of cooking itself. It’s very violent actually and releases a lot of latent anger while causing more stress. Cooking pairs well with listening to Radiohead for instance.

Yesterday as I was prepping a meal for my small group (see picture! made with my brother’s app), I found hacking away at the ends of green beans, de-skinning potatoes, and heating chicken flesh to 400 degrees to be highly violent. You’re basically taking items that used to be alive and turning them into something completely different via the most destructive means possible. I used to think of cooking as being this warm act that communicates to someone else how much you love them. A more appropriate classification of cooking (speaking for myself) is a means of releasing anger through mutilating things.

And then the fruit (or food) of your labor is dinner served. You can have your anger release cake and eat it too!

public libraries

The public library branch I live a block away from is where homeless men go to watch movies and moms take their toddlers to hang out during the day. After school you get the students who come in and use the computers.

Two of the most memorable people I’ve encountered at the public library:

1. A well-dressed older man takes up an entire table spread with books opened, lying flat on their spines. Notebooks and such. His books included the bible and the book of mormon and were extensively highlighted. He was scribbling notes while pursuing these texts. I asked him what he was doing and he told me that he was figuring out the date the world would end.
2. A man who had a bunch of bags and had worn clothes and leathery skin sat in front of a flat screen TV monitor that he brought. He was watching a movie and the TV was hooked to an X-box that was next to his backpack.

Public libraries: hotbed of interesting people.

DARE – please

I walked by two men tabling for DARE outside Peets the other day. One man approached me and asked if I heard about the program and explained that they were doing a fundraiser to support the program since it was cut from school. On the table were a bunch of toy cars that you received for donating money. (What is the target audience???)

it was cut from schools for a reason…that being…it doesn’t work..

I told him that my peers who went through DARE ended up doing more drugs since what we learned about drugs was so fascinating. He told me that they changed the curriculum so that it’s now evidence based and yadda yadda.

Anyways, I just read this:

The report noted that the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) program, which may include a violence reduction component, is ineffective in reducing violence or drug abuse.

-The Surgeon General in a 2001 report on school based violence reduction programs

I know the man said that the curriculum changed but still it feels like a cigarette company saying that the ingredients changed and now smoking is totally cool on your lungs.

Reminisce

As the weather cools down, I’m reminded of Oakland. I think of Joy, of waking up in the morning dreading having to go to school and manage a classroom. The drama at work. I think of the lifestyle. My neighbors. The neighborhood. I think of the world of Oakland. Worlds within world. Hipsters, gangsters, social justice people, business people, the grime of Chinatown. The lights around Lake Merrit. The orange tree near my apartment that bore lemon flavored oranges. Weekend adventures with Joy to Alameda. Life with Joy. Good times, spontaneous times. All the people we welcomed into our home. Our neighbors daughters running around screaming hysterically. I think of our neighbor Jesus and Martha. I think of the corner liquor store, the women being sold on International Ave, the occasional gunshots that Joy heard but I mostly confused for other sounds.

Such a short period of my life, with such a lasting impact. So strange how we’re in a state of flux, to be lived forwards and never backwards.

dumping some stuff out

I find myself crying uncontrollably at the most random times. It can be comical like…really? right here? in the gym though? in the parking lot while a car just pulled into the spot next to mine? sigh. 

Good grief, grief!