Emerging Words

Temporary End

2005-07-24T18:58:00.000-04:00

It's very hard to comfort people. Frequently when they are hurting, they hurt you. And you must absorb the hurt at times, because to bring it up can only increase the hurt on both ends. And yet, we must be flexible, risking the honesty of "You've hurt me" or else risk absorbing too much.

There's a few lines in the Bible that say the road to salvation is a narrow one. I believe that means that we must balance our lives as on a tightrope, and to sway too much to either side is to fall. Of course everyone wants to live in realms of Absolutes. It's a comfortable place to live, because you don't have to constantly wonder if you're going too far in one direction. And really, that's a continuous questioning of whether you are wrong.

God knows I don't enjoy wondering if I'm wrong, much less admitting it.

This is the last entry in quite some time. I'm not getting anything out of this whole blogging thing, and it's quitting time, for now. To those of you beginning new adventures, keep your chins up. Here's a little ditty about that:

The wise
expect
surprise.

New people burst into our lives like fireworks, or else slowly ignite the horizon like a sunrise. New people shake us up, change us, teach us, make us grow. At each stage of my life, I am constantly surprised by the new people I meet and befriend and struggle with, and I am so grateful for them all.

And what's the point? The point is that in this great crapshoot called life, the chance that any of us actually ended up breathing, dancing, loving, writing, walking on this earth is infinitesimal, so small none of us can hope to ever comprehend it. To me, life is a gift worth celebrating. What's the point? To find some people to care about, to fall in love, to create something, to play basketball with Vince, to laugh at Paul's cactus story, to watch Rob play the piano, to hear Issel and Juny read their poems in workshop class, to read Justin's hilarious Counterpoint articles, to witness Taylor on the dance floor.

The point is to feel your heart being moved, and to follow it, wherever it goes.

The point is to always be seeking one's spirit.

The point is to not really know the point, but to do the best we can. Someone once summed up what I believe to be the essence of the calling of a Christian: "God doesn't ask that we succeed, only that we try."

Right now, at this point in my life, if I had to answer the question, "What are the most important qualities to have in life?" I would answer, "An honest openness, and a sense of earnestness."

The former suggests that this answer may change with time. Take care of yourselves.

Mending

2005-07-16T21:23:00.000-04:00

Strep gone, time to kill the mono. Sox tomorrow—should be a drunkfest in the bleachers. Oh, and "Wedding Crashers" is hilarious. Don't let Paul tell you otherwise—he loved the gratuitous nudity.

It's almost time to leave Massachusetts behind and discover Washington. Too bad I'm no coffee drinker. But we'll see if I ever want to leave.

Wrong

2005-07-14T01:11:00.000-04:00

Insomnia, and over the past week as I lay in bed at 3 AM and know that the world around me is asleep (what are their dreams, their nightmares--wouldn't it be a more merciful world if we could rescue others from those shadow terrors?), a thousand doubts and accusations swept over me like thunderclouds and sent their lightning straight into my heart.

I've realized a number of things in the dark. I never opened my hands to all of you and showed you my wounds, because I never wanted to be weak or humble. But I always offered what I thought was wisdom. It was not, because I believed I was wise.

Anytime you begin to believe in your own wisdom, you lose whatever shreds of it you had.

Wounded, I am. I am about to read a book about healing, about how one can never be a healer without acknowledging one's own woundedness. Without that acknowledgment, distance will be too much to overcome between the healer and the healee.

We're all broken--where are your cracks?

Sick

2005-07-12T11:41:00.000-04:00

Currently, I'm running strep and mono. When I went to the doc's office yesterday to get diagnosed because of my horribly enflamed throat, he told me about the strep, then said, "Your body is in a weakened condition because of the mono. [Chuckle] Actually, it's quite probable that you caught the strep the last time you came to our office. Lots of sick people around here."

Thanks, doc.

Sickness can teach you a lot of things. That sleep is a precious, precious thing, and when you can't get any, it's quite bad and extraordinarily frustrating, watching the hours slip by on the bedside clock. That I overestimate my pain tolerance. (I don't have any, despite what you might thing from watching Sean Nabar whip me with a spoon on my arm.) That there are so many people in the world suffering from illness and disease, and just to empathize with that for a week or two might make the occasional sickness worthwhile.

It's bad news, the antibiotics. They've effectively become a laxative, and so right now I look like Kate Moss with a mullet.

Hope everyone's doing well--I miss you guys

Kids

2005-06-28T01:49:00.000-04:00

Why would you like to have kids? (No answers of "No thanks," because that's too easy).

Here's mine: Growth. A new kind of life, where you really find unselfishness, because it's mandatory. Whenever you turn around, your kids will be demanding your time, money, patience. I think that most people only grow up when they have children. You aren't living for yourself anymore.

Also, because it would be so much fun living a second childhood, jumping on the trampoline and going to little league games and teaching my daughter how to ride a bike.

Also, because it's a tangible way of improving the world. Raising a loving, mature being? Very much so.

Pedestals

2005-06-23T01:17:00.000-04:00

They're dangerous. In any form, when you place parents, crushes, lovers, or friends upon them. Someone told me that they have a tendency to push me up onto a pedestal, even when I am attempting to climb down again and again.

Pedestals are a delusion. We all have chinks in our armor, weaknesses that we are (hopefully) aware of. If you want to know what your greatest weakness is, just think about your greatest strength. Because they are one in the same.

For instance, I have a tendency to mold myself to the personality of the person I am interacting with. So I can make friends, sometimes, but other times, I just become whatever someone wants me to be. Dangerous. Also, I have a tendency to give people what they want, which in low doses can be called flexibility. In high doses, spinelessness.

There are two of my weaknesses. So no pedestals, please. And for those of you who tried to decide what was best for me without letting me have any say, I understand where you were coming from. But be careful, because it can be presumptuous and it's a little too paternalistic for comfort.

And I never wanted to have a morality in a vacuum. The true spiritual and moral person is in the midst of the world, feeling the pressures and reacting to them. Living in a moral bubble is useless to everyone because no one changes, neither the people he interacts with, nor himself.

Goodbyes

2005-06-22T01:45:00.000-04:00

According to Mr. Wanda, I suck at goodbyes. Perhaps, but I'd rather have my heart wrenched than be numb. I've always believed that, because I know that indifference is a murderer. You've seen indifferent people, haven't you, all lifeless as rocks, piddling around in the mall, on the couch. The eyes are not only the windows of the soul, but also the measure of how much life people have in them. When I say someone is dead, it usually means that he is lifeless.

The most direct way to lifelessness is to avoid pain. The heart has to bleed to keep us alive. From C.S. Lewis:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket --safe, dark, motionless, airless-- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

This afternoon, I played tennis with my sister, and she handed my derriere to me on a silver platter. Better than that, she had a great time doing it. I didn't feel ashamed, since she plays varsity at college. (Paul, I hope you realize that there are far worse things than losing to a girl. Like losing to a guy.) I'll tell you what excites me about women, and it is something that I realized a long time ago: I like them to be tremendously good at things, to make no apologies for it, and to beam with joy as they do them.

If I get my ass handed to me in the process, it doesn't matter. Because seeing someone in love with life, proud of their skill and hard work, is tremendous, like watching a bird fly or a dolphin burst from the sea. (And because in this life, you have to learn how to lose. Learning how to win is easy.)

Back from the Dead

2005-06-21T02:21:00.000-04:00

I left my voice in Virginia, along with the best ribs I've ever eaten and one of the best friends I've ever had. I had forgotten how hard it is to remain close with friends once we are removed--not only the proximity, but the laughter, the flesh-and-blood presence is the vital part of intimacy, whether it be friendship or otherwise.

When people say that they're not good at goodbyes, I have to ask: who is?

Sometimes I reflect and feel a profound sense of gratitude, for the first real, deep friendships of my life, which came at MIT. For the ability to make others laugh and to laugh with everyone. For the ability to write and touch people in that way. (Somehow, if we write things that are sentimental or loving, suddenly they are more acceptable than if said face to face, and people don't need to be as embarrassed. I think of my grandfather, who read my thesis alone--did his granite facade dissolve in tears, or did he remain the statue that he is?) For my family. For the free tuition that allowed me to follow my dreams without feeling guilty. For feelings of love and tenderness and mercy--that is, for a heart that never hardened.

For my faith, the belief that out of suffering springs growth. That is the basis for grace. Change that appears painful at first can become a profound blessing. Thank God for that--it gives me courage. Fear vanishes in the face of faith.

I never wanted to be verbally evangelical at MIT--I preferred to let my actions speak. But I will say this: I hope that all of you find such the bedrock, the cornerstone, the oasis that is faith. I realized long ago that I lost my loneliness because I was never alone. When loneliness becomes solitude, one of the most important milestones in growth has been passed.

Because at the end of the day, we are all alone, no matter whose hand we hold, whose mouth we kiss, whose eyes we adore.

It's Starting to Hit Me

2005-06-09T02:45:00.000-04:00

Last night, I had some dream where Issel, Rob, and Juny were sleeping over, in my bedroom. I vaguely remember getting out of bed and trying to clean up the room in the dark. I remember laughing and whispering, telling the phantoms that it was too difficult to do in the dark. I assume they agreed, because I climbed back into bed and fell asleep, relieved.

And then I woke up. Sometimes the real world is extraordinarily lonely. Today was one of those mornings, when it all begins to hit home. Laughter dies, and you realize that it's all gone, in a very final way. And nothing, not even the occasional reunions will hide the change.

When I awoke, I remembered the whispering, the laughing, and I saw my drawers emptied of clothes, the piles scattered on the floor. And for a moment, I believed it was all very cruel. It's taken years to fashion these threads that connect us, and now to feel them tugging, straining to tear from my heart--at some moments, it is a searing ache.

I miss you guys. I'm almost sorry the ache will fade as time goes on.

Summer

2005-06-07T23:46:00.000-04:00

Someone once told me that I remind her of summer. I wonder about that--I used to be an autumn-type, filled with the melancholy knowledge that the year is ending, inhaling the changing winds and decaying leaves. Now? Perhaps I am more of the lifeguard, sunny type. I gave up on melacholy and began to live in the moment. (Melancholy is never a living in the moment--it's more of a "the present is a diminishment of the past" attitude, and it has a tint of elitism to it, since it often feels like the world isn't as sensitive to the diminishment.)

At this point in my life, I care about expansion, growth, becoming. The time for decay is later, when the body humbles the soul with its crumbling, shrinking. Flannery O'Connor once said that she pities all those who die quick, painless deaths (she was afflicted with lupus for many years). Perhaps it was because the decaying, the disease, the pain, focuses the attention on all the things the healthy miss. Once you are forced to slow down, you stop worrying about all the noisy, peripheral things. And what is in the center? Beaches, children, food, art, the full moon and the stars, a kiss, running through the rain, watching lightning sweep across the sky as you sit on the farmer's porch and let the new breeze rip through your hair.

Life. It's all about life. And though there is so much suffering, the suffering is not the center. Delight is. As Gibran wrote, sorrow carves deeply into your heart that it might contain more joy. To joy, I'd add mercy. Sometimes those who suffer the most are the ones who empathize most deeply, because they too have suffered. (Of course, there are those whose hearts are hardened by suffering. There are no easy answers.)

What is the point? The point (as I sit here, in this humid bedroom, about to take a cold shower and wash the day off my skin) is to enjoy this gift. Take delight in it--you have two legs, so run. Two hands, so play. Two eyes, so see. If you suffer, know that the lessons of suffering are many. Do not be daunted.

Commencement

2005-06-05T17:39:00.000-04:00

It's a word that means a beginning. Doesn't that make sense, that the end of one thing is the beginning of another? We're like plants being repotted, after the roots have deepened so much that the plant is not able to grow further. (I'm trying out the gardening metaphors in preparation for August.) And the interesting thing about uprooting is the perspective it grants, because it allows you to discover what you've taken away from the experience. Once the surface circumstances are changed, the deeper changes are more evident.

I think we've all changed tremendously. I think all of our friendship and love for each other has shaped us. I know for myself, comparing freshman Matt to senior Matt, that you have all allowed me to spread my (goofy) wings. I have a tremendous self-confidence because when I stretched myself, you encouraged me. I remember seeing that I was cast as Luigi for Next Act last February and feeling very anxious about it. But Issel told me that I had a good singing voice, Juny told me that I had good presence on stage, Rob told me that I was actually funny, and Vince—well, Vince was pretty quiet during rehearsals.

Enough. More to come. For now, remember that change is a good thing. When we settle, we stagnate.

But I will say this: as I was unpacking last night, I found the Luigi eyepatch. The house was silent; everyone was sleeping. And right then, I knew that I'll never have as much fun as I did these past four years with all of you. I very much mean that. Maybe there will be better times, more fulfilling times, like when we see our children climb into the schoolbus for the first time, when we get married and place the ring on our spouse's finger. But more fun? I can't imagine that would be the case.

When does a person change from a child into an adult, from carefree into careworn, when the goofy is replaced by the settled attitude? I think it's about to happen for us, when the working world wears us down, when mortgages and car payments make us sigh, when we suddenly realize that it's our life, and that we're alone in that, even when we're lying next to someone we love in the morning.

Promise me this, that each of you will do whatever it takes to keep your spirit alive. Even when that choice requires abandoning the safe things. It's terrifying to walk on the tightrope, but remember that you have a safety net, woven with the threads of family and friends. If you ever need anything at all from me, just ask.

We're not going to completely slip apart if we make the effort to remain in touch. All of you have been the best friends I've ever had. If we let that completely disappear, we ought to be ashamed of ourselves.

Breathe in the air of these new days.