recently I've been trying to put together a capella group. And yes, I am finally admitting to myself that I like to sing. haha. This really really really excites me, and gives me more joy than most other things in my life.
oh, on a side note, if i ever had a daughter, i'd name her Carol. Song in a name. Perty. (assuming the misses won't put up any objections)
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Solitude: An Ode, by Alexander Pope
Apparently, the man (or rather, boy), wrote this when he was only twelve. If I ever had a child who had this frame of mind, this perspective on life, this clarity, when he or she is only twelve, then I'd be a proud father indeed. Damn proud.
Solitude: An Ode
by Alexander Pope
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
In his own grounds.
II.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
III.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
IV.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
V.
Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.
Solitude: An Ode
by Alexander Pope
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
In his own grounds.
II.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
III.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
IV.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
V.
Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A Necessary Divorce
I think, alot of us link our worth, satisfaction, value, upon the wobbly pedestal of achievement. The whole of our identity is wrapped around this three legged chair.
I am certainly a victim of this myopic perspective, certainly jailed within this very burdensom value structure. Frankly, I have trouble divorcing my sense of self worth from my ability to achieve. Perhaps this is a common problem amongst men, and particularly so to those in Commerce.
I realized this because I've been getting some not so ideal grades recently. My RELS 210 prof is not in the habit of giving the A grade. First quiz a 70. First paper a 74. Dammit prof! It's very demoralizing. Though I decided early on in the year that I would relax more, enjoy life more, and not establish my identity and self worth around academic achievement, getting these sad grades have shown me that my attempt to divorce self worth from grades has been futile. My adverse emotional response is the primary indicator of my failure.
How do I seperate my sense of self worth from academic success? How do I convince myself that grades, in the grand scheme of things, don't really matter. How do I base my worth and identity solely on my relationship with God, something that's completely based on Him and what He's done and nothing to do with me and what I've done? How do I rest assured in His high opinion of me that is not based on what I've done at all?
I've long held the opinion that the real winners in life are the ones who understand they don't need to 'win.' That is, the ones who have chosen to step out of the rat race of achieving society's concept of success, but have decided to pursue their individual values and goals, regardless of the opinions of society. I thought that these folks would be the ones who gets to enjoy real freedom and satisfaction.
It appears it's harder to be one of these folks than I thought it'd be, and that the rat race is not only a race but also a maze.
I am certainly a victim of this myopic perspective, certainly jailed within this very burdensom value structure. Frankly, I have trouble divorcing my sense of self worth from my ability to achieve. Perhaps this is a common problem amongst men, and particularly so to those in Commerce.
I realized this because I've been getting some not so ideal grades recently. My RELS 210 prof is not in the habit of giving the A grade. First quiz a 70. First paper a 74. Dammit prof! It's very demoralizing. Though I decided early on in the year that I would relax more, enjoy life more, and not establish my identity and self worth around academic achievement, getting these sad grades have shown me that my attempt to divorce self worth from grades has been futile. My adverse emotional response is the primary indicator of my failure.
How do I seperate my sense of self worth from academic success? How do I convince myself that grades, in the grand scheme of things, don't really matter. How do I base my worth and identity solely on my relationship with God, something that's completely based on Him and what He's done and nothing to do with me and what I've done? How do I rest assured in His high opinion of me that is not based on what I've done at all?
I've long held the opinion that the real winners in life are the ones who understand they don't need to 'win.' That is, the ones who have chosen to step out of the rat race of achieving society's concept of success, but have decided to pursue their individual values and goals, regardless of the opinions of society. I thought that these folks would be the ones who gets to enjoy real freedom and satisfaction.
It appears it's harder to be one of these folks than I thought it'd be, and that the rat race is not only a race but also a maze.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
meaningless post
so, i'm still not studying for my RELS 210 quiz. It appears this illness (see last post) has gotten the better of me.
I got a thousand thoughts running through my head. Actually, no, I don't. I only have a few, and believe me, one or two is bothersome enough as it is. I can't imagine having a thousand thoughts rampaging through this weak and delicate mind of mine. uhh.
So what are the few thoughts I'm thinking of? The few thoughts that have mercilessly latched themselves upon me, refusing to let go until some sort of resolution is reached, or until slumber dulls my memory. So what are they?
Dear readers, wouldn't you like to know.
On another note, a friend of mine got jumped yesterday. Post-jumpage he texted me, "Dude I just got jumped, call me." I thought he was just being annoying/ trying to get me to go out so I ignored him. Turned out he actually got jumped.
This is something I'll remember of college.
I got a thousand thoughts running through my head. Actually, no, I don't. I only have a few, and believe me, one or two is bothersome enough as it is. I can't imagine having a thousand thoughts rampaging through this weak and delicate mind of mine. uhh.
So what are the few thoughts I'm thinking of? The few thoughts that have mercilessly latched themselves upon me, refusing to let go until some sort of resolution is reached, or until slumber dulls my memory. So what are they?
Dear readers, wouldn't you like to know.
On another note, a friend of mine got jumped yesterday. Post-jumpage he texted me, "Dude I just got jumped, call me." I thought he was just being annoying/ trying to get me to go out so I ignored him. Turned out he actually got jumped.
This is something I'll remember of college.
fostering a dream
At this moment I should be, but I'm not, studying for my RELS 210 quiz tomorrow. Instead, I've fallen victim to my habit of reflecting about life, meaning, worth, purpose, and other unproductive thoughts. This disposition to think about such thoughts have a tendency to encroach upon me at the most inopportune time. For example, right now.
At this moment, I am thinking about my dreams - my purpose for being - my goals, and what exactly I'm here, on earth, for. And, on a more myopic level, what exactly I'm doing in university, at the school of business, studying finance. The why of it all.
I've discovered, or rather realized, that there is an obvious disconnect between what I'm doing here to what I want be doing. My short term goal and my long term dream do not match.
Frankly, I'm only here to get high enough grades to get a job. Basically, I'm here to get paid. And Ihave no shame in saying that. I don't think wanting money is a bad thing; there's nothing wrong in wanting money. The morality of money is dependent upon the motivation for money.
And I think I got good motives. If not, at least decent motives.
I would like to honor my parents; I want to honor my dad with a nice car before he hits 60. I would one day like to have a family; I want to be financially competent to support this family. I would like to be financially independent; I don't want to be relient upon the bank of dad forever. Decent motives, right? Certainly not evil.
Alas, money is just practical. I'd rather not build my life around obtaining it. I just need enough....
I think everyone is made for a purpose, and I think I am made to preach, to talk about a God who doesn't suck. A God who not only is, but who can, and who will. A God Almighty who is actually Almighty.
I remember the first time I preached. It was at the podium of The Good Shephard's Church in the GC. Man I felt alive, and completely comfortable. It was as if I was finally doing what I've been made to do. I felt like my whole genetic make up - my low voice, my relatively large stature, my tendency to reflect, my eagerness to learn - was made for this purpose of vocally elaborating on a God who is indeed God and who has every ability and willingness to be God Almighty to this world. Yes, at that moment I felt alive, and the whole of it, felt right. Correct. Proper. Exactly fitting. Right.
To me, there is no higher calling than to speak about a God who actually is God.
At this moment, I am thinking about my dreams - my purpose for being - my goals, and what exactly I'm here, on earth, for. And, on a more myopic level, what exactly I'm doing in university, at the school of business, studying finance. The why of it all.
I've discovered, or rather realized, that there is an obvious disconnect between what I'm doing here to what I want be doing. My short term goal and my long term dream do not match.
Frankly, I'm only here to get high enough grades to get a job. Basically, I'm here to get paid. And Ihave no shame in saying that. I don't think wanting money is a bad thing; there's nothing wrong in wanting money. The morality of money is dependent upon the motivation for money.
And I think I got good motives. If not, at least decent motives.
I would like to honor my parents; I want to honor my dad with a nice car before he hits 60. I would one day like to have a family; I want to be financially competent to support this family. I would like to be financially independent; I don't want to be relient upon the bank of dad forever. Decent motives, right? Certainly not evil.
Alas, money is just practical. I'd rather not build my life around obtaining it. I just need enough....
I think everyone is made for a purpose, and I think I am made to preach, to talk about a God who doesn't suck. A God who not only is, but who can, and who will. A God Almighty who is actually Almighty.
I remember the first time I preached. It was at the podium of The Good Shephard's Church in the GC. Man I felt alive, and completely comfortable. It was as if I was finally doing what I've been made to do. I felt like my whole genetic make up - my low voice, my relatively large stature, my tendency to reflect, my eagerness to learn - was made for this purpose of vocally elaborating on a God who is indeed God and who has every ability and willingness to be God Almighty to this world. Yes, at that moment I felt alive, and the whole of it, felt right. Correct. Proper. Exactly fitting. Right.
To me, there is no higher calling than to speak about a God who actually is God.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
back in the 'real' world
I am now 4 weeks into the rat race of university life. The same monotony reoccurs, day after day. Wake up. Go to class. Study. Sleep. Repeat. Not very fulfilling.
It's very different from the orphans, the river baths, the jungle, the unforgiving sun, the band of international strangers, that I've grown very accustomed to. Very different.So it appears - life as a full time student of commerce share few similarities to life as a full time student of God.
It's very different from the orphans, the river baths, the jungle, the unforgiving sun, the band of international strangers, that I've grown very accustomed to. Very different.So it appears - life as a full time student of commerce share few similarities to life as a full time student of God.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Persian
A couple of days ago I met a Persian. In other words, an Iranian man, a man from the very-foreign-to-me land of of the Middle East.
Previous to this, me in my infinite wisdom, thought that everyone from the exotic land of the Middle East were Arabic. I was wrong. This man was a Persian, a person of a civilization that was once ravished by Arabic raiders. He wasn't brown. :S
I was later told that the difference between an Arab and a Persian is this: Arabs want to fight you, but Persians just want to dance with you.
I like Persians. Especially this Persian, Ali. Ali likes to think.
I remember walking up to his kabob shop with my 50 something year old friend Bernie (soon to be doctor Bernie, a white man who speaks fluent Arabic) and meeting Ali the Persian by chance.
We saw him smoking right outside of his shop, and Bernie walked up to him and said the typical Arabic greeting, "A Salaam ah'laykuum." Peace be with you. Ali kinda just gave him a 'huh?' face.
This is when I learned that not everyone from the Middle East is Arabic, and that many of them don't speak Arabic. Apparently some of Middle Easterners are Persians.
So we started chatting with Ali from Iran/Persia in English. He spoke very good English, though he's only been here for 3 years. Apparently he speaks good English because he read a lot, so much that he can't sleep without reading. He told us that unlike many of his countrymen, he wasn't Muslim, and that he didn't want to go back to Iran. He told us how he was so frustrated by the government there, and how he just can't go back....
He told us that in his life he has seen two people dead on the streets of Iran, probably for offending the Iranian government in one way or another. He told us how he doesn't believe in the Qu'ran, though he has read it many times. He's sick of all the "kill, kill, kill." that it commands.
He's read the Bible three times, in English, and really likes Jesus. We were able to share with him our testimonies and how God got us through tough times. We were also able to share with him the gospel. By the end of the second time that we met him, he was giving his life to Christ.
Praise God.
Previous to this, me in my infinite wisdom, thought that everyone from the exotic land of the Middle East were Arabic. I was wrong. This man was a Persian, a person of a civilization that was once ravished by Arabic raiders. He wasn't brown. :S
I was later told that the difference between an Arab and a Persian is this: Arabs want to fight you, but Persians just want to dance with you.
I like Persians. Especially this Persian, Ali. Ali likes to think.
I remember walking up to his kabob shop with my 50 something year old friend Bernie (soon to be doctor Bernie, a white man who speaks fluent Arabic) and meeting Ali the Persian by chance.
We saw him smoking right outside of his shop, and Bernie walked up to him and said the typical Arabic greeting, "A Salaam ah'laykuum." Peace be with you. Ali kinda just gave him a 'huh?' face.
This is when I learned that not everyone from the Middle East is Arabic, and that many of them don't speak Arabic. Apparently some of Middle Easterners are Persians.
So we started chatting with Ali from Iran/Persia in English. He spoke very good English, though he's only been here for 3 years. Apparently he speaks good English because he read a lot, so much that he can't sleep without reading. He told us that unlike many of his countrymen, he wasn't Muslim, and that he didn't want to go back to Iran. He told us how he was so frustrated by the government there, and how he just can't go back....
He told us that in his life he has seen two people dead on the streets of Iran, probably for offending the Iranian government in one way or another. He told us how he doesn't believe in the Qu'ran, though he has read it many times. He's sick of all the "kill, kill, kill." that it commands.
He's read the Bible three times, in English, and really likes Jesus. We were able to share with him our testimonies and how God got us through tough times. We were also able to share with him the gospel. By the end of the second time that we met him, he was giving his life to Christ.
Praise God.
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