Nakamura-kun

I have few friends. Depending on the day of the week and how I feel, the merit of that state varies. One of my friends came to visit a few days ago, I love this young man because he is earnest. He speaks his mind in a refreshing way that is rare, most people think him a jerk. I call him a role-model.

A polite person is enviable, one whose words are honest, appropriate, "seasoned with salt" the Bible says. The excess of politeness becomes lying and flattery. This is were I often find myself dithering in my day to day. It frustrates me somewhat, yes I do long for every woman to wish their significant other spoke to them as considerately as I do, without reaching the extents to which I wander in an effort to be 'nice'! The deficiency of politeness, on the other had, is crass. Also known as "foot-in-mouth disease." I know little of it, I have witnessed it and long to ever forget those moments for the sake of those involved.

Nakamura-kun, unlike me will say something is stupid if it is, he will as quickly (and easily) applaud something praiseworthy. The mark of a jerk in my mind is one who always picks out the negative points, one who has few or no compliments. Nakamura-kun is not that. We will sit and discuss faith (I miss that), the absence of faith and wisdom in our peers, our college experiences, the wonderful (and less than so) people we met, the idiots that we shared laughs with, differences in cultures and so forth. Our time together is very rewarding. I have not found such honesty anywhere else, especially with regards to spiritual things. It is difficult (even with fellow believers) to speak of the Way, the things we are learning, even the battles we are fighting. When we do speak, we are deficiently tentative. Without openness we may as well remain silent for little benefit comes from it.

I long to foster a culture of honesty. That people would know me to be a man of my word, a man who speaks earnestly, as it is written, "the truth with love." Maybe not so much as to spill my innards, but to say precisely what I mean at all times. Like Nakamura-kun.

Flights of Fancy

According to Aesop, in the famous fables recorded under his name, there was a stag that stood by a still lake admiring itself in the water. It spoke sweet nothings about its amazing rack of horns and its broad chest. It looked and spoke ill of its unsatisfactorily thin legs, wishing they were as amazing as it's horns. In the middle of its reverie a wolf (or was it a hound) attacked the stag and it escaped, by vitrue of its thin legs. In the semi-escape its horns were caught by, and tangled in a bush so there it stood until it was killed by that which hunted it.

I am somewhat fanciful. Since I am confessing I realised while watching Scrubs that I, like JD have an internal monologue. Note well; this is not a 'wow' moment for me. I find JD quite tedious. Back to me...fanciful, I have never been considered amazingly attractive, if I were amazingly anything I recall strange, interesting (meaning weird) and polite (meaning different). That is it. This always changed when I was dating though, at these times I had someone doting on me and telling me what other girls said about me. We move on before this gets boring...

In my flights of fancy, I desire to make whatever I do look good. I strive to be my best in all things, that an audience even if it is only in my mind will adore my part in the play. When I walk into a room, I want every man, woman and child to find one thing about me (actual or perceived) about which they say, "I wish I were..." I looked up the definition of 'vanity' and this does not fall within its range, hence my regarding it fancy. I am not vain, I just wish I were a bit of a big deal in something that will not snare me later.

So it is, even if I may not personally admit to it.

Vice

In the movie A Beautiful Mind, the main character, John Nash has been seeing people who were not there. He does not know it for the longest time. When he finally 'sees' he is quite shaken, he spends some time in a psych ward (I think), anyway it ruins his life, and it is a problem that does not go away. He works through it and wins a Nobel prize among other triumphs. At the end of this telling of his story, someone asks him if he still sees (absent) people. He admits that he does, but he states that he chooses to ignore them.

There is good and evil at work in everyone, I don't care who you are and what you believe. We are (normally) encouraged to do that which is good, but we are unfortunately inclined to firstly serve/please ourselves which tends toward doing evil. The fight begins. Paul the Apostle (of Christ) writes, (paraphrased, Letter to the Romans 7:18) "The good I want to do I do not do, rather the evil I want to refrain from is what I end up doing." I feel his pain, I want to add to that, "What is wrong with me?" It is the equivalent of trying to lift you hand and instead you shake your head! Ridiculous right? Yet, here we are, all mankind strives to do that which is right and we spend most of our time doing just the opposite. We are so defeated that we shifted the goals so that we can live with some semblance of normalcy, some feeling of victory or control. So in response to our wickedness it is fine to say things like, 'It is human nature,' 'That is just who I am,' 'Everyone is doing it' and so much more. Rarely do people earnestly admit their inherent wickedness. Despite proving ourselves wrong time and time again we still maintain that deep down we are good people. I am not a good person!

I accepted help in my struggles against my innate wickedness. And it is still a raging battle. One thing in particular I did (to quiet the baying dogs) I barely enjoyed; it left me feeling horrible as I strove with my guilt. I tried to convince myself it was human nature, remind myself how many other people were doing it too, it did not help. I still sought to be good but regularly proved otherwise and I could not stop trying to be good. When I said no, I could hold it for a few days at most. I became convinced of my pervasive wickedness. Others may say they are inherently good, I know now I am not. Help came, after many many mournful prayers over many years. I was finally able to say no and my no stood.

Here I am, months after the last feeding. They bark and howl everyday! But, like Nash I have decided (and been enabled) to turn away when my name is called. This does not make me a good person, a good person does not fight against evil, they are beyond it. It is we the wicked, that fight our demon-selves each and everyday. No I am not a good person, thank God I am able to ignore them sometimes.

Limits

I went to the doctor once, with an asthma attack. He checked my lung volume but was not happy with the results so he sent me to a respiratory lab. I was sat in a tiny plastic closet and asked to repeatedly breathe into a paper tube in many different ways. One of the exercises I had to do was exhale to the dictation of the technician. "Ok, take a deep breath. Now quickly force it all out, don't inhale keep exhaling, keep pushing, push it out...push it out...hold it hold it hold it, oook now inhale. Well done!" I had no idea how much my lungs could hold even after 'total' exhalation. Now I know, and that knowledge is mostly useless to me.

Mankind has limits. We can only run so far, so fast, live so long, climb so high, dive so deep. I have found that we, as a race, are more ambitious than our naturally prescribed limitations. Hence our desire to run as fast as a horse that we solved by taming the beast and riding it. We sought the hunting prowess of the wolf, strength of the ox, flight of birds and we found ways of attaining these attributes. We have since set our sights on the health of sharks, longevity of tortoises and the beauty of pearls with that long life. However far we go along the ladder of achievement we will continually strive for more. It is the way we are raised, maybe even the way we are wired to begin with.

In Mythology tales are told of a King Gilgamesh of Uruk who was strong, wise, good-looking and much more. In all things he was gifted and excelled above every other man of his time. One would think he would have said, "I am so blessed and this is enough", yet he sought more in order to prove himself, his epic quest was immortality and it is on this journey that he found his bounds. He was stretched to his limit and returned home a failure (in his eyes). I think he was challenged to stay awake for seven days and he slept on Day two, woke up with five loaves of bread in various stages of decay next to him. He did it all! And he did it hard, battled monsters, built a city, a civilisation, chopped trees to battle more monsters. Then he chose the battle that showed him the edges of his prowess and the hem of his potential, yet beyond it the ship of his ambition was sailing still.

I am terrified of the day I am at that place. I have always been told I can do anything. I recall once I showed my father my report card and (as usual) he was not impressed. He asked me what kind of food the top of the class ate and I looked at him baffled to eternity. He went on this enraged tirade that questioned the source of his stupid son's stupidity, who ate the same food, breathed the same air etc as the top students, yet he could not be a top student himself.

There are things I cannot do, due to absolute lack of training, equipment, even will. I however dread the day I am weighed against something I desire and am found wanting. I pray that day tarries a long long while.

Change

A favoured author Milan Kundera observes in The Book of Laughter and Forgetting that it is the people with normal, uneventful lives that feel the need to write on their bland existence. He cites as an example the population of writers in France compared to Iran. I found that astute observation funny, more so the explicit example he gives.

My thoughts and opinions on change I admit are quite run-of-the-mill. I do not like being 'normal'. Change; I have change on the mind because I applied for a new job. I only take chances were I am sure I will win. My actual win ratio is not as great as I would like, that means I can still take chances and the outcome continues to be unknown. Dribble.

I enjoy my work. I know what I am doing(took a minute to get here). I confidently walk into the workplace and am sure I can handle most of what the night throws at me. Working at night I get a lovely little pay differential, it is quiet (just a co-worker and I), I can work on school and a few other things in between sleep during the day. It is all working well for me. There is enough distance between my wife and I we love to see each other, there is no familiarity contempt. The new job would change all of this. I could get a pay hike for it, but I don't know that. My shift will change to daytime and all my night perks are gone.

It is difficult to change when one is comfortable where they are. Uncertainty weakens one's resolve to initiate change, especially performance oriented people like myself. Before something changes I want to ensure the change will increase my status, make me look amazing while in transit and will be enjoyable by me and anyone along for the ride. Life is never this good! Not ever. So I go where opportunities open. I squeeze in where I need to and sit when a seat is available. Making the most of every chance for I do not know when another will arise. I am essentially an opportunity scavenger. Pounce on what comes up in reach until I can make my own.

I am almost 30, I may not have my life figured out but I have a plan. For now.

"That'll do pig. That'll do"

Fish 'n Subs

Some fish belong to saltwater, but, they are not pre-salted on my plate. Those wonderful little Sodium-Potassium pumps! They belong in that environment yet it does not permeate their beings. I will not delve into piscean physiology because I recall very little at this point, and my understanding (when I knew a lot more) was quite muddy. I passed the class with and A so there! On the other hand submarines are aquatic, but they are foreigners. Though water is their environment, they are made to keep it away from whatever they contain.

A friend brought up something I have cradled for ages - I can sit with people and have a 'blast' yet upon observation it is mostly an act. I am in reality usually quite uninterested in the whole affair. Looking back on my social life, this has been the norm. Most of the time I have spent with my peers has been thus lukewarm. Sickening! I am hesitant to confess, therefore, that I participate in events I do not entirely agree with. I think drunkenness is foolish, dirty jokes are dirty (though rarely funny), the whole party, sex, drugs and profanity culture that is endemic to my peers is juvenile. So when I went out with my workmates, I went only because I was invited. I knew I would be bored, yet I faked enthusiasm. Yes, at times I enjoyed myself. Rarely and not enough to warrant repeated attendance. I was social because it was expected of people like me (whom other people liked), I think I wanted to know if we could relate. People find me funny, I am! So as to keep them away from me. There is no intimacy with a joker. That's why I am funny, one would think all the sarcasm were be a hint. Hmm?

There are people I find engaging, I wish there were more of them. I wish the few were geographically closer or at least able to talk a while every week or so. Our lives are so tied up elsewhere. The resulting advantage is that the times we do speak are special.

I kept away from the from-work-to-the-bar outings. I avoided all the parties and the like. Now I am not invited and part of me misses it. I am lot less chatty now, what would it be like if I went out with the crew again? Would I be the quiet snippy one on the end, or I would pick up were I left off? I have a tendency to conform to societal expectations. (I am disgusted by this too!) Unlike the fish if I were in saltwater I would be salted on the plate or drying rack, whichever came first. I assess the situation and behave 'appropriately, politely'. Why is this? Back to my friend, our question for the day could be relayed as such; "Were/What is our joy/happiness/contentment? Does it even exist?" It seems for most of our lives we have participated in many things and for some reason feigned enjoyment. Or maybe we just cannot have fun? Whatever the answer, we are horrible at being fish. If we do not fit in this aquarium, may it mean we are made/developed for another? Are we even fish?

The submarine is part of this because I desire to be in the water but away from it. In the sub I can be a sober, not laugh at your crude joke, speak "Rated E for Everyone" and be fine. I can be me, inappropriate and impolite but it is OK because by entering the sub, I have proclaimed, "I am not with you guys. I can open the air lock for you, but no fish foolishness allowed here!"