Una otra vez por favor!

Well, my time in China is done. I could not have enjoyed it more, in fact those were the most amazing 20 days of my life thus far. Immersion in another culture was amazing, especially in one so foreign to me. We're back now though and another semester must begin. It's been nice to be back in the house; I really enjoy living with these guys. Thus far the semester is looking pretty ok. I'm very much enjoying my German class as well as the engineering workload. This Monday I even did something crazy: instead of sitting in my room and doing hw all night, I went out and hung with new and old friends. Can you imagine that? This semester should be a little less busy for me, so I might have a social life for the first time in years. We'll see how this goes.

Tschüss.

P.S. Shrews in haus; woher kommen sie?

Alzheimer's

The loss of memory, a sense of self and knowledge of family is devastating. Similarly is it devastating to watch a loved one slowly succumb, knowing that nothing can be done. To see them confused, trying desperately to remember details, names and faces that once were ingrained, seemingly impossible to forget. For all of the anguish you feel for them, their experience is all the worse, you can't even understand. It's heartbreaking, but you give them a hug and talk all the same. I almost think it's worse in the middle, because the realization is there, that something is not right, that there is something missing. They know what is happening, but they know that there is nothing to be done. Everyone knows, but everyone is powerless, except to be a shoulder, to be a hug, to comfort. To comfort once, twice and many many more times. But that is what is family is for.

We went to clean the house today. Sometimes it seems we will be cleaning that place for years. I don't know how to end this post so I think I'll just leave it at that.

Anticipation

In contrast to the wonderful time I've had with friends and family over break so far, I started thinking about anticipation (we did not used to be friends). For a while I've wanted to get some of these thoughts down as a manner of coming to terms with myself and closing a chapter of my life.

What comes to my mind most when I think about anticipation is all of the negative experiences I had as a child. My most vivid memory of anticipation was for a trip I took with the "Travel" class in sixth grade. It was an exploratory course that looked into how and why we traveled. The most enjoyable part of the class was to be a trip we would take at the end. It was very short and simple because of the non-existent budget the class had: a train ride on the Amtrak from Grand Rapids to Holland. Perhaps one of the safest ways to travel. However the night beforehand was one of the worst nights of my life. I was up for most of it, my insides churning and my mind despairing of any of the painful deaths to which I could imagine myself succumbing (thinking about it now though, there are really only two, derailing and collision, both extremely unlikely, oh well). For me, as a child, the new and unknown were the worst thing I could be put through. They were to be feared (think swimming lessons) and shunned because they represented uncertainty. It was hard to grapple with the notion that not everything I would experience was something I had done before or could handle with ease. This is a very constricting way to live, which is probably why I spent my time reading about people who did the things I was afraid to do. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my childhood, and the time I spent going to other galaxies and doing crazy things through reading, but it was really more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

What caused me to consider all of this is my upcoming trip to China. Having never flown before, I immediately considered thoughts of being lost in any number of places and having everything stolen. Reverting to the instinctual fear. But the funny thing about new things is that because you don't know everything beforehand, there is incredible opportunity. That is the flip side of the coin I have never seen. Considering that, I rethought it a bit: I'm fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fly halfway around the world to visit a country I've only heard of, to see things I've only seen in pictures and to experience a culture like I never have before. I may never have a chance to do his again. Wow, that's kind of entirely different. Could I get lost, dismembered, fed to pigs and forgotten in doing so? Perhaps, but at very least it will be a new experience and I'll probably be surprised enough that having my body rent asunder won't bother me much.

But seriously, I think it's time to embrace the new. Look the unknown in the face, wish it a good day and inquire when tea will be served. We'll see how this goes. (Even more seriously, if you hear about any mass dismembering in China, please let me know.)

True-ish to form

It seems like after each semester is done, I will inevitably dream about failing at least one of my classes. Let's be clear, that didn't happen this year. I'll keep this short in the interest of not boring you.

I was driving with Joel O. in a desert. He was using the wheel, I was working the pedals and we were both sitting in the drivers seat, which is impossible considering that neither of us is the least bit small. I ran a stop-sign for some reason and became angry at Joel when I got the ticket, even though there was nothing he could have possibly done about it.

Considering the amount of dreams we have, compared to the amount of dreams we actually remember, I think I'm getting jipped here. The next time I dream, I demand to recall cross-country skiing with polar bears through the streets of Hudsonville while pulling tricks in the air from jumping off of houses. The polar bears will be equipped with lasers and be playing acoustic guitars real mellow-like (I'm thinking Valley Winter Song by Fountains of Wayne). None of this getting a ticket or failing of classes nonsense.

More than your last retreat

Here is a recipe that will lead to success every time:

Get a cup of coffee + hot chocolate,

wear a warm hoody,

listen to "More Than a Memory" or "Rocking Chair" by P.W. Gopal,

look at a picture of the Straits of Mackinac covered in ice,

imagine you are kayaking beneath the bridge in the summertime.

(a liberal portion of sappiness should also be applied)

That is all...no apologies or excuses.

Feeling Blessed

I thank God that I can live with great friends.

That I can use the intellect that I have been given, no matter how modest.

That my housing situation has been solved and that the worry of having to move has been taken care of (by a move, which went smoothly).

That I can be happily single, and recognize that what happens will happen.

That I have the opportunities to travel abroad extensively in the near future.

That I can worship without fear.

That I can listen to wonderful music.

That I can be transparent and not worry about being judged.

I've been listening to P.W. Gopal, the man who was the music leader at Castaway a few summers back when I was privileged to go there with some awesome guys. These are his lyrics:

You were sent to remind me of faithful things
That there are mountains beneath the sea that I'll never see
That were put in place with gentle hands
Knowing you and I will climb - we'll climb and stand
And let all His grace, let all His grace remind me
--Remind Me



Also, based on the size of his arms, I'm guessing he can lift and perhaps toss about many, many heavy things.

Cold falls

It sprinkles down in little pieces,
resting on my head and shoulders, a blanket.
Nestled in the crevices it fills the folds,
and spills over, falling away in patches.

Dampness begins almost immediately,
where my flesh is left to the air;
tiny crystals melting into a trickle,
a river of molten ice running down my back.

How exhilarating to feel life coursing so,
to feel alive and free and real and right.
The directions to this happy place are simple:
embrace the earth and make your angels of snow.

The Yellow Windows of the Evening Train

The day was passing class by class;
mind filled with Hawthorne and Gibbs.
It was rather prosaic a fall afternoon,
but for the door that opened to me.

Dark brown hair dangled freely,
a frame housing lovely features.
Exquisite to behold, quite the dame,
these are words that go together well.

But for such a rare moment,
it was not unlike any other day.

between the lashes of your eyes

This is what you shall do:
Love the earth and sun and the animals,
Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks,
Stand up for the stupid and crazy,
Devote your income and labors to others,
Hate tyrants, argue not concerning God,
Have patience and indulgence toward the people,
Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown,
Or to any man or number of men,
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons,
And with the young and with the mothers of families,
Read these leaves in the open air,
Every season of every year of your life,
Reexamine all you have been told,
At school at church or in any book,
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul,
And your very flesh shall be a great poem,
And have the richest fluency not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
And in every motion and joint of your body.
--Walt Whitman

I was reading "Leaves of Grass" last year, during a Chem lab I think, when I came upon this passage, which is an absolute delight (they should probably make a commercial for bluejeans with it or something). I stumbled upon a representation of it today, which jogged my memory, so naturally I had to share it. There's not necessarily a particular line that I can pick out as a "good" one. The whole passage comes as a package. What it comes down to, is that I want to be this poem.

Largely, I think this passage is Biblical as well. Whitman certainly didn't intend it to be, but except for "argue not concerning God" (anti-evangelism maybe?), I think that Jesus lived each line of the poem. His life was a great poem in the way he lived it, in order to die for us. As Christ followers, the life we live should have the "richest fluency" not in the language of men, but of God.

¡A Alemania!

Voy a vivir y trabajar en Alemania durante el proximo verano! Tengo un puesto de interno con una compania se llama Boehringer Ingelheim en Ingleheim, Alemania. Es una compania de farmaceuticos. Recibi las noticias hoy, de mi profesor. Es en Alemania ahora, con mi jeffe futuro. Hasta hoy, solo he viajado a Canada, en terminos de otros paises. Asi, estoy muy emocionado para ir a Europa y vivir solo conmigo.

Puedo communicar en espanol con un poco dificultad, de mis quatro anos en la escuela secondaria. Pero aleman no es espanol. Ahora tengo la opportunidad aprender una otra lengua, y para mi, es el parte mas fantastico (y tambien la cultura y la compania y viviendo en un otro pais con extranjeros).

My mind traces the steps, passed over so many times,
etched into memory, they leap out, concrete.
VanBuren, Marlin, childhood stomping grounds;
dreams of following jets to unknown places.

We would lie on the grass, having vanquished our imaginary foes,
and see their trails stretch across the sky.
Inklings of other times, places, to be explored someday,
under circumstances more Franklin and less Bond.

What business has a boy from the salad city,
tracing the steps of humanity, history?
His business is wisdom,
and the development of his frail mind.

YLBiblestudyChristmasLights

Lately I've been reminiscing about Young Life, and my experiences I had there. Particularly I've been thinking about Campaigners, and missing the guys from that group, and the discussions that we had. I haven't found anything like that since I've been at Calvin; those friendships are hard to build quickly. In that context, Sunday night came as an absolute delight, and blessing to me. As a house, we did a Bible study. It was nothing elaborate, no one had planned anything for it, but we talked about some scripture, and about some of the different things that had happened during the week. And it was the most amazing thing. I've been living with these guys for over two years now, and now have the opportunity to talk with them seriously about things that matter. It was refreshing to be sincere and to think deep thoughts with some of my peers, and I fervently hope that this becomes a regular thing.

I've been listening to Hillsong quite a bit lately. Here are some of the lyrics that have been particularly stimulating to me.

A thousand times I've failed
Still your mercy remains
And should I stumble again
Still I'm caught in your grace

Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
my heart and my soul, Lord I give you control
Consume me from the inside out Lord
Let justice and praise become my embrace
To love You from the inside out
--From the Inside Out

Also, I have to include this, because it is awesome:

Amazing Grace Techno - Computer Controlled Christmas Lights from Richard Holdman on Vimeo.

Define:Saturday

Wow, what a day today was. First of all, it may have been the most beautiful day of 2009. Scratch that, it was the most beautiful day. It made me happy to have to wake up early and do some work, mental and physical.

The biggest part of today was cleaning up the old house and getting everything moved over. It should be noted that some walls were torn down today. Namely walls of drywall and two-by-fours. At this point I would like to recommend that if you must dismantle such a wall indoors, it would not be advised to use a circular saw. It may be that in the course of your cutting you in fact fill an entire house with dust. No guarantee, but...yeah, it's a guarantee.

The rest of the day can be summed up very succinctly: Cam'nNate, Guitar Hero, hw, "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels," apple pie.
--
A cloudless bluebird sky hangs effortlessly above,
taunting beautiful spring before a blustery onslaught.
First morning breath, afraid to leave, catches in my throat,
but is welcomed by balmy arms.

As my bike gathers speed, the squeaking and squealing build in a distinct crescendo,
and I reach the peak, easing into a gentle coast; suddenly silent.
The warm air rushes past my face,
liberating from my vocal chords an expressive, "Yawp!"
--Cómo hermoso el día, la vida

Housing update

We moved on Saturday and now just have a few things to take care of at the old house. However, currently we have only one key to our door, and it only stays closed when it is locked, so that's fun. Our garage doors are stuck open, and tied that way which means that I keep my bike in the living room, also fun. Finally, we won't have Internet access until Friday, which is why I'm writing this from the basement Chemical Engineering lab. Despite some rather unfortunate parts, I really do like the new house a great deal. Most everything about it is better, it is cheaper, and since we split up the seven of us there is more room in the refrigerator (in which there is a joyful dearth of alcohol). Also, there is just more space especially since Mark and I have the whole basement as our room now.

Though, the best part of the new house is the natural light in my room now! I wake up, and am bathed in wonderful soft, white light, and I see the bare trees that stretch skyward, trying to grab the planes constantly embarking and arriving. Their swarthy bark, a stark contrast to the pale grey sky above, having dropped their colorful charges to the ground beneath, like a slow steady rain. That is why I love this house.

Octubre [edited: Mamihlapinatapai]

Soft grey clouds stretch to the horizon:
svelte, occasionally undulating, blanketing.
You walk in their perpetual shade; at each moment,
a million droplets threaten to obscure your frame.

A chill wind strikes at your sweatshirt, whipping it about;
it seeps in, toying with you, sapping heat for no purpose.
Still, I wish to walk with you, to shuffle through the dampness;
leaves clinging to our shoes, listening to the wind in the trees.

I watch as images flow from your pen;
they're trapped in my mind: beautiful, evocative.
Sadly I trundle away, my head quickly turns,
wishing that this could be, yet too reticent, coy to ask.

Odd milestone

Today, Google Analytics tells me that search traffic (via Google and Yahoo) to this page has eclipsed the 50% mark in terms of relative sources. I've been getting a lot of hits from terms like "tennis etiquette" and "peter singer famine affluence morality", even "60 ton angel" (Porcupine Tree reference). Which is weird because those are only three posts that have those terms. I'm sure that they didn't find whatever they were looking for (I know that for a fact because the average time on the site was 00:00:00, and there were 100% bounce rates across the board! :]).

I also think its weird (mostly cool) that I get occasional international traffic: Brazil (spam bots), South Korea, U.K., Norway, Japan, Vietnam and Ecuador. There's someone in Belgium who visited, and even comes back occasionally (Amazingly! I mean, I'm barely relevant to my friends, much less a Belgian. Nonetheless, thank you for reading).

I guess because I intended this initially as a place for me to be introspective and occasionally sappy (then as a place where I can write things that Alex will read), it's weird to me that others read it, albeit mostly unintentionally. But I certainly don't mind.

Orbiting the Room

This evening was host to a boisterous jaunt with some buds. We went to see Mutemath at the Orbit Room. The opener was a local band called: Something, something, way too loud and flappy bass. They were ok, but the bass was way too loud and flappy. As Tall As Giants followed, and though their singer was back home having surgery, they played some wicked instrumental tunes with fantastic energy. The bassist was electrifying; a very exciting human being.

Mutemath followed and played some songs from their album Armistice. They really brought a good mood and got people up on their feet. Roy went on to dominate the cello which really made my night. Both of my favorite songs from their first record were played: "Typical" and "Break the Same". This was the first time seeing them in concert, and I was very impressed. I probably wouldn't mind seeing them again.

Arguably though, the concert had three best parts all of which took place during the encore/reset portion of the show. First, was the man in the balcony who whipped off his shirt and made out with a girl who was up there (strange), then, the drummer Darren put his bass drum on top of people in the crowd, and stood on top of it for a bit, then leaped off in order to crowdsurf. And if that weren't enough, a man in a bear suit, followed by Goldilocks walked in front of me on their way to leave. An actual bear suit... i.e. he probably killed a bear, skinned it and made it into a suit that he could wear. He wasn't dissing @JohnCMayer though.

Walden Excerpt

"I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if if were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."
--H.D. Thoreau

Beauty

...is in the differences. This was never real to me growing up. Sure, my little sister is Chinese, and we spent time at multicultural festivals, but there was never any real interaction there. My experiences were of someone who saw from afar, different people, but did not comprehend. This became especially obvious to me (and I learned that I am a sad confused little boy) at a recent visit to Meijer. The particular Meijer store I went to is often referred to as "ghetto" Meijer, and I had never been there before.

Let's be clear, this was no grand revelation, which is what makes it particularly pitiful. Apparently during any interaction that I've had with Africans or Hispanics or Asians, or any other race, I have been in the majority. At Meijer last week I was in the minority. This certainly wasn't the first time that I've been in the minority as a Caucasian, however it was probably the first time it was salient to me. How sad is it, that as a 20 year old college student, I finally became aware of such a thing. The worst part, the part that makes me feel utterly juvenile is that I was very uneasy. Pathetically uneasy. I felt like a racist pig, in my feelings of unease. There was no reason to feel ill at ease, yet there I was, dodging eye contact like one of those racist fathers depicted in movies about the south before/during the Civil Rights movement. These feeling hurt me; hurt that I felt like I had to act that way.

It seemed that for all of my welcoming intentions, my reaction went around my brain's back. My visceral reaction brought me to the sad and obvious realization that racism is not over. Academically, I believe in the beauty of difference, in the celebration of difference, and in the realization that for all of our outward differences, we are the same. We are a tapestry, beautiful in scope, that is made of the same thread. The strands are of course individually beautiful, however in combination they set each other off. African thread looks different than Caucasian thread, looks different than Hispanic thread, looks different than Asian thread, BUT IS THREAD!

I realize I've said nothing new in this post. It is intended to draw to the forefront of my mind something that needs to change in me. It is intended to show me that I have to rectify my instinctive reaction with that which I believe in my heart.

Diversity is pulchritudinous. I want to feel that in addition to knowing it.

I desperately need you

Drops of light, they glide over the sphere we call home,
like water on a snow globe, lit by the brightest day, during the darkest night.
Peering into our world in short bursts,
obedient to time and space, they wait for us each year.

In our appreciation we spurn their advances, for what can we do,
but allow them to render themselves vapor?
Glorious and vibrant they streak across the sky in a most violent and beautiful death,
they think us rude, but we just stand and stare.

Temprano en enero hay ésos azules y rápidos de Bootes,
pero en un instante no son no más.
Los mejores vienen durante agosto, se llaman Perseids, y son tan hermosos,
ésos que cepillan el pelo oscuro, suave y fluyendo que es el cielo del noche.

Necesito practicar más a menudo (mi español se está volando)

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
-- William Carlos Williams

Evicted

I have indirectly told
the police
that you are
in violation

though you
were rather quiet
and bothering
no one

Forgive us
we don't understand
that you
aren't housing prostitutes.
-- Calvin College