a blog about nothing

i need to sleep soon. i've got an early Sunday morning hike to get to. it's been a while since i've been on one of these, but my friend from the UK has been in town for the past week--and Sunday hikes were something special we used to do together. plus, it's finally beginning to cool down and the idea of getting out into the clearer air of the mountains is extremely appealing to me.

today will mark Day 5 of my life of asceticism. i made it to Day 16, but then my friend came into town and i decided to throw it out of the window--it was my own excuse and i splurged in grand style. but i paid the piper. you always have to pay the piper, huh?
i've wondered if there's any point for me to be an ascetic--and if i'd ever make it out of the double digits of days, but, there *does* seem to be a point. i feel better, healthier... my mind is clearer, i feel less guilt about ruining my physical body and i have a *somewhat* saner flow to my life. it's 10pm and i feel tired. this seems like it's a good thing. particularly because tomorrow, i'll wake with the sun--and there is something absolutely lovely about the morning.

i counted days. i wondered if i'd make it into the triple digits of ascetic days, and ironically, Day 100 will be my 33rd birthday. on Day 102 i'll be in Malaysia. or Northern Thailand.
i'm currently considering how unwise it is to write about this, particularly because i'm a weak individual who is terrible at keeping commitments--but... well, who gives a shit? these promises are to myself. and possibly God.
i guess i'm writing because it's just nice for me to keep a record someplace. eventually i read these archives over, and sometimes i learn something from them. or i get to cringe at my childish meanderings and then shrug--simply happy to be a little 'further along'.

i'm reading Murakami's running book right now and it's exactly the right book for my state of mind. pain is inevitable, but suffering is not.
i'm definitely feeling some pain.
i've had a headache for the past 21 days. i can't be sure if it's the acute bronchitis i contracted, the strange sleep i've been getting, the fact that i've quit smoking, or any of the other lifestyle changes i've made. but, more and more i'm realizing the distinct limitations of this frail form. i'm patently sensing how stability and structure and order really produces/increases/encourages longevity in my physical, spiritual, and emotional health. i'm a fucking robot, huh?
but, there it is.
though there is something constraining about regular sleep, diet, exercise, and socialization/scheduling--this seems like it should create more flexibility during my waking hours in some ways? though lately, i've been feeling like i'm in a box--socially, intellectually, and spiritually:
socially, i've really just gotten sick to death of people and have not been going out at all. i'm just not up for dealing with demands or trying to look pretty or flatter someone. but also, you can't be an ascetic and be social. it makes people uncomfortable. plus, i personally can't stand being around cigarette smoke right now. this puts a hedge around my options.
i'm also worried about the intellectual side of my mind these days. i feel like my brain has been addled by a misspent youth and i literally have trouble recalling simple things, much less keep track of my schedule. i've been absent-minded and very laissez faire about things that used to cause me much more issue. at the same time, i've rediscovered my love for books and have been burning through an average of 2-3/week--so, i'm not sure if that means my brains are ok? or... maybe it's a problem with my sleep... i've been falling sleep when "normal" people normally do, but i have been waking up at 2-3-4 in the morning for no reason. whenever i awake these days, even if i'm tired, i yearn for the sunlight. the sunlight makes it more likely for it to be the time i should sit up and begin moving. there is something unsettling about wide-awaking at 3am.
on the spiritual side... i've just got a lot of questions. i'm not questioning the larger cosmological/existential issues, but rather, i've been teasing through the questions of: so, what now? and how?


anyway, that's enough of nothing for now.

relate to me

it's nearly 2:30am on a Friday night. i just finished inputting about 50% of the progress reports that i had to finish for my 30 students, and i'm wide awake. my dear friend is sleeping on the floor beside me, completely knocked out from all the academic hurdles we've had to bound over for the past 3 weeks. we're nearly to the end of this crazy Summer camp and hell--we're counting down the days for this to be OVER.
i'm ready for the Summer to come to a conclusion so that i can regain a semblance of normalcy. but actually, i have no idea what that is. in fact, once this Summer's over, i expect that my world might feel like it's been turned inside out.

a lot of things have happened in the past few weeks that've tested the limits of my patience in addition to stretching me out as a person. i'm realizing what a selfish person i can be, concurrently with realizing that i've become an overly(?) independent person. this has been highlighted to me as i've been living with one of my closest friends in close quarters. it's been odd having her here--always having another's presence to mind, never feeling fully *alone*.
i realize that even though i've craved the alone time, actually having someone to come home to (or with, rather--because we work in the same office) hasn't been as wildly suffocating as i thought it would be. i still don't relish the idea of ever having to live with anyone, but i'm not as staunchly against the idea as i was before her arrival.

but there has been a relational break-down with another close friend, who i just didn't have the energy or fortitude to fight with. last week, i had felt pretty put off by her and scratched our conflict's surface the following day, but i never finished addressing it because there hadn't been adequate time/opportunity to do so. i just figured that we'd work it out when i had some time to think and breathe.
unfortunately, when i scratched the surface, she felt wounded and the sore grew into a festering pus-filled mess for her. i should've realized that she would be thusly affected, but my busyness and exhaustion and angst made me feel more selfishly invested in taking care of myself, rather than looking to her needs. it's a bit of a no-win situation for one of us--and i realize that maybe it should be me. i know i shouldn't have to cow-tow to anyone, but given that i'm probably more emotionally and socially aware than she is, it's more my responsibility to try to be loving and more forgiving and self-sacrificial than she.
she's been driving me nuts these days, but i think it's because we have both become more emotionally invested in our (newer) friendship--along with this type of scenario, conflicts will/must arise. it's odd though, because i usually do not have these kinds of conflicts with my friends. usually my friendships are much more even-keeled. conflicts are reasonably discussed over coffee or drinks or dinner--and more often than not, things are talked out before they actually become a full-blown conflict.
sigh. why are some people so complicated?

this Summer, both of these relationships have highlighted how *overly* independent i've become. i dunno--i've become a pretty damn independent person. i like to do most things alone. i need hours by myself a day otherwise i begin to feel demanded upon. i don't like to travel with people. i've stopped making new friends in Seoul because i'm sick of the 'getting to know you' conversations and dealing with fucked up personalities or the disappointment of losing someone back to their home country.
whenever i meet someone with even the slightest hint of neediness, i back way the hell back and hope to blend into the wallpaper when they're around. i've got a messed up contemptuous attitude towards neediness--i figure that if: ME, of all people, can learn emotional and social independence, why can't everyone else?
however, i'm beginning to wonder if my "independence" is more of a self-protective measure so that i can never feel disappointed by people. i just stay away from those whom i can sense will probably let me down (in some way or another) and keep things light and surface level with the other amicable people i meet. if you're a new person to me and happen to do something sloppy or shady: i don't really give a shit. i couldn't really count on you because i didn't really have any expectations for you anyway... and, you have no right to expect anything from me either.

is this selfishness?
is there a such a thing as "overly" independent?

i'm worried that i've developed some fucked up ideas about how to relate to people.

well, i'm staring at this computer screen through my smudged glasses, and my friend has just complained about me keeping the light on. because i love her, i will sign off for now.
i've got many things to ponder on. for now, in the dark, i suppose.

bloody Sunday

at what point can a person claim the title "Fool"?
[yes, i know... i too hate my own self-deprecation and wholeheartedly see the irony of that]
i am pondering: how many times can a person can learn something and then forget it and then re-learn it and then forget it--before truly deserving the title of Master of Foolishness?

but, here it is again, something that i've learned before, forgotten, then relearned again today. i don't know how many times i've learned this particular lesson. but well, to err is human, but to forgive, divine, yes? i must apply this forgiveness to the forgiveness of myself as well.
i don't give up. i can't. won't. for me, it is far better to bite my lip in humiliation, brush the detritus from my bleeding wounds, then rise back to my feet.
forgiving one's self is extremely difficult for a certain population of us humans, isn't it? i know this is an obvious question, but Self-Loathing is a very real experience for me. she has been one of my very favorite demons for decades. but i hope, for myself and the other Fools out there, when we re-learn--when we re-forgive--we also integrate a little something extra.

thus, i am sitting here, uncomfortable, with a headache and itchy skin. i feel weak and fidgety. this is a terrible combination of physical discomforts. i am also experiencing waves of peace and panic as i consider the unknown. it is a scary place.
but the common, the unchanged, the gaze upon my own reflection in the mirror and immediately forgetting what i look like--this is much worse than my trepidation and achy flesh. i am going pray while i continue to sit here, the Master that i am, hoping to push through my jitters and finally have this title fall from my shoulders.

better to run. scream. dance. tear at my hair. breathe. laugh. rest. sing. cry.

lather. rinse.
but this time, let me reel clean off the edge.

Taw

i've been pushed to the limit and have coped in pretty unhealthy ways...
the Spring transitioned into Summery monsoon and we are now moving into late Summer. i'm now officially halfway through a Summer camp as head teacher/coordinator, and of course, i'm utterly *exhausted*.

i'm sure it's annoying to continue to read my repetitive plaint: ugh! i'm a fucking mess. i feel especially bad today because i recently got reallyREALLY good news, but nullified the goodness of that news within 164 hours of receiving it.
but, that's not what i want to talk about tonight. i'm a mess, but God is really good to me.  He still meets me, and chooses to call me His daughter. i don't understand this. why does God give me chance upon chance upon chance?

despite the fact that i have once again made a bad choice that has put me right back into peril--despite the fact that i dodged a bullet, only to run back into the gunfire, i know my Redeemer lives. and He is active in my life.
this makes me feel weak. with gratitude and a hope for something better.

i had arduously plodded through chapter 119--the longest chapter in the longest book of the collection. i've been pretty lazy (avoidant?) about keeping up with my reading and reflection. i have a hard time reading upbeat exclamations of praise when i'm not doing so well. i know that's shitty and speaks to how messed up i am as a person. however, the thought that the writer closes up this helluva long chapter with is: "I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant, for I do not forget your commandments."

this was very comforting for me to read. i felt a little less alone in my astray-ness. i know i'm crazy. and neurotic. and tend to be insecure about the value of my personhood for much of my waking existence.
and the next part is also that i never forget Him. i can't. not after knowing what i know. and experiencing what i've experienced.
i also know i can't actually bring lasting change to these things without God's help.
i had a moment of thankfulness as i read that verse. God used that writer to speak to me when s/he put quill to paper--or whatever they used back in those days.
these glimmers of Grace, despite the brokenness of my existence remind me about what Love is. and there is nothing more True or Real about Who i really am. This is what gives me value.

splatter

my foot has been pressing hard against the accelerator.
gaining momentum
racingblurringstumbletopple correction
speedingspeeding hope i don't die.
or do i care about that?

as badly as i want to slow down--as much as i want to take my foot off the gas, i just can't. there isn't time. there's only responsibility. and obligation. and love and laughter and must do's.
dizzy with exhaustion
sometimes happy
sometimes angry
completely spent
and i feel so selfish because i feel like i can barely keep on doing anything. for anyone.
and i hate myself for it. and i hate everything because i just want to get some rest.
why can't i just have 2 full days where no one asks anything of me? and i can just sit in the sun and sip some tea and read a book?

it's been like this since the beginning of March.
the craziest, busiest job. that i love. then my brother came to visit right at the cusp of midterms. he left right when my finals prep began. right away i was slammed with a grueling month of end-of-semester tasks that spilled into an ever-growing pile. i was finally done on a Friday.

but summer school began the following Monday. and then came another fast paced month of 10 hour days, 70 quizzes to daily grade, lessons to plan, feedback to give, students and administration to please--all while mentally preparing for a month-long guest and her friend to stay with me in my apartment.
[i am always excited to spend time with loved ones, but, my apartment had been my only sanctuary for peace. where i could shut everything and everybody OUT. and i didn't have to emotionally cater or move or breathe or listen or speak.]

i thought i had a week to rest before my friend arrived. the finish line was in sight. but on the second to last day of summer school, i came home, hungry and tired. i had with a heavy bag of finals to grade and a mountain of administrative task to complete.
but there was a monster in my apartment.
dark green tendrils soaked into the very bed i had been sleeping on. it rotted into all of my furniture and clothes and began to eat away at all the surfaces--the walls, the counters, into my refrigerator and coffee maker--every place my hands and feet touched were infected. infested.
from one corner to another to the next and all around--growing, creeping inward, sealing me into the center of the room, choking me and making my skin crawl with revulsion. billions of spores were tossed into the air, invisible, but stinking my nostrils and sinking into my bronchioles. while it crazy-monsooned outside.
there was no place to run. i couldn't even go outside for a breath of fresh air because it would be just another rain-soaked task to deal with.
i cried. in helpless frustration. but mostly weariness.
and then, i grit my teeth, turned on some music, and graded those damn finals. i used a black pen to pass 'em, a red one to fail 'em, used my bag as a pillow and fell asleep at 4am. my eyes popped open 3 hours later, i taught my last 2 classes, then rushed back and searched for an apartment. in the monsoon. 12 hours from the beginning of that day, i shakily selected an apartment, then went back home to pack so that i could move the next day.
again, i stayed up until 4am tossing out heavy loads of disintegrating furniture, my body smeared with sweat and mold and dirt and spiders while it rained on me.
8am, the mover came, and we moved the contents of that god-forsaken apartment into the next one. i cringed at the thought of all of the spores that were still embedded into the fibers of every last piece of cloth i owned.

which finally brings me to this week.

i've been a zombie as i've methodically moved. i've done 16 loads of laundry and unpacked and wiped down surfaces. the air's filled with toxic disinfectants while the skin of my hands have chapped--but i washed them, hung up clothing to dry on anything available and have continued on and on.
and on and on.
i couldn't let myself think too hard about the fact that my hope for rest was shrinking because time moves inexorably forward. and my minutes are limited. because i would have to cry.

and now, it's 1am, i have to be up in 7 hours, and i've got yet another hectic month in front of me.
i don't know what to feel.
am i allowed to feel?
yes. i feel tired.


and extremely confused.
all of these awful things have happened concurrently with some strange and incredible things. while my head throbs from weariness, i'm also feeling perplexed.
against all odds, i've gotten some perfectly good news about the fall, my health, and was suddenly stirred out of some terrible complacencies i've been locked into for a long time.

there's too much to explicated, but there are some horrible and good things flooding my life at precisely this time.
what the hell is going on? will i ever have a chance for peace? am i just not built to attain any?

is life just a mother fucker or is there something else happening that i can't understand?

Journal: 7.11.11

i'm losing time these days.
i don't know if it's age or depression or angst or busyness. but i'm beginning to forget things. things that seem like they should be important to me. or even the unimportant thing i went into my bedroom to get before i leave the house. shit. declining mental acuity is concerning.
so, is this it? have i already peaked and now steadily making my way downward into mediocrity... and then worse?

i'm also feeling like a turtle. not the Teenage Mutant Ninja kind, but the 300 pound overgrown kind that accidentally made my way up the sand dune instead of back down into the ocean. i'm blistering in the sun while nasty little kids are squealing with horror at the novelty of my being. they're poking me with sharp sticks and i'm retracted, sick of all of the noise and chaos, wondering if there is any hope of escape.

i'm feeling super angry with everything and everyone these days. damnit.
i'm good at pasting on a plastic smile, making jovial the setting i'm twirling my hair in, or saying something inappropriate for a snicker. only the nearest to me can sense something's wrong. but even they aren't privy to what's actually going on. inside.
sigh.

when will this pass? i don't know. i'm longing for that lasting happiness. the stuff that sticks.

Daleth

Saturday morning.
gloomy skies.
occasional voices murmur against concrete.
a hammer banging on a construction project is echoing.
it's sticky. humidity.

Daleth:
"my soul clings to the dust.
give me Life according to Your Word.
when i told of my ways, You answered me; teach me Your statutes.
make me understand the way of Your precepts, and i will meditate on Your wondrous works.
my soul melts for sorrow; strengthen me according to Your Word.
put false ways far from me and graciously teach me Your law.
i have chosen the way of faithfulness; i set Your rules before me.
i cling to Your testimonies, O Lord; let me not be put to shame!
i will run in the way of your commandments when you enlarge my heart."

this is not very lyrical, but it stopped me on the train this week. so i memorized it.
there's a lot about feeling like shit, which i can relate to of course.
but i'm getting stuck on the 'law/rules' part. there's something about those verses that sound so abrupt. plus, i'm not exactly sure which/what precepts are being referred to. anyway, for some reason, understanding this passage seems important to me.
i'm leaving this crazy metropolis for the day to spend some time talking to God. i absolutely know that i can do that anyplace, but i feel so rushed/tired/busy/cloudy while i'm here. i need to get into an environment away from my computer, books, work, phone, people--where it's just me and God. i have no option but to confront Him. or have Him confront me.

to be honest, i feel a little worried. not-so-much in anticipation that i might get struck by lightening/something--but i worry about feeling bored. doesn't that feel like a sacrilege?--God should be offended by such a statement, huh? but prayer can feel pretty damn boring sometimes.
today, i assign myself several hours to talk and think and wait. leave the clutter behind.

existential crisis: 2011

i'm exhausted and angsty.
it's only Monday night and i feel like i've been run over by a freight train.

i had an emotionally cathartic conversation with one of the few people in Korea that i dearly Dearly Love, and HELL. this was about as close as i've gotten to finally breaking through.
i don't know what got into me, but all of the pain and anguish i've been feeling about the recent months came spilling out. she could see how roiled i felt and as i shared, i was able to share more.

i have a lot of metaphysical questions that i haven't examined closely in a while, but as i am due for my quarterly existential crisis, the pressure blew up into near tears.

i wonder about God sometimes. His existence and Love and Reality are all irrefutable to me. but it is too macroscopic and unbelievable and completely insane to fathom at times. i feel this way when God becomes secondary in my daily wanderings and then, He becomes impersonal. undoubtedly, this is my fault. i choose the temporary over the eternal with the majority of my choices in life--and it is only His  profound, severe, unrelenting Grace that keeps me hanging on. or rather, i'm dangling, on the unbreakable thread.

despite the fact that God met me so powerfully nearly 12 years to date, i've been a shadow of what i should be. despite violence and blood and broken bones and terror, i kept pieces of myself back. i wanted to keep those pieces for myself. my refusal to just give it ALL has resulted in the tragedy of a dozen wasted years.
for most of the year, i'm a miserable slave to the pieces i refused to surrender. however, for several weeks, maybe a month--of every given year, i get so sick of being sick of myself and just walk with God. and it's amazing. and i feel alive. and the universe makes complete fucking sense to me.
my time in Indonesia was the most recent of these episodes, and i KNEW who i was. and had absolutely no fears or insecurities or questions about... anything.
but then, whenever i'm presented with the same life, the same temptations, the same habits, i stumble again. and again. and eventually, i find myself in that familiar  filthy puddle of my own shit. wishing i could just eschew mortality. wishing i could just curl up against His ankles next to His throne. and just cry. and sleep.

here's the scarier thing. as the years have passed, not only have those lusts become deeper, but worse and worse lusts have accompanied the original. i'm crossing lines that i would've thought completely unimaginable, three years ago. five years ago. ten years ago.
i've cried myself awake with the ridiculously cliched question: who am i?

as i poured out this anguish to my friend, i read her wide eyes to communicate concern. but actually she said, "i'm experiencing exactly the same thing." there was encouragement in these words. she asked, "but do you think we would have to share everything?"

here's the thing about secrets. they're dirty. if we keep things hidden, they will grow and fester because there is no one to stop it. to call you on it. humans are greedy as hell. this manifests differently for every person, but in the end, we are slaves to our indulgences.
we have voracious, insatiable appetites for *whatever*--whether it is for seemingly innocuous things like relationships or our standards or adulation from others; or the more apparently destructive things like drugs or alcohol or random sex.

where does this leave me?

tonight, i was about one breath away from sharing my dirty little secrets with my dear friend. this is the closest i've come to doing that with anyone in Korea. this is monumental for me.
we both got teary and she gave me the hug that i'd been needing for the past few months. we have decided to retreat away, specifically to pray, for hours this weekend. hell. i MUST be desperate. but i feel hungry and dessicated and at the end of myself. in reality, i know that i don't need to eschew my mortality in order to curl up at His ankles at His throne.
i need to weep. and find some rest.

dancing. walking.

it's 3am on Friday night/Saturday morn, and i just got home.
i'm WIDE awake.

i just bought my first pair of high heels in five years.
i hated high heels. i thought of them as somewhat degrading and ridiculous. why the hell should women have to titter tip-toe around on those tiny little spikes? plus, i've got notoriously bad balance, so i found them downright dangerous. but women abound attest that 'you just get used to them'.  PSHAW. i shouldn't have to "get used to" pain and hazardous missteps for the sake of sex appeal.

however, i can admit the problematic nature of my unwillingness to see outside of my perspective at times.
my friend R__n has got the sweetest face and disposition, and it's hard not to get pulled into every earnest word that passes her lips. she had a pair of dancing heels custom made for her and asked me to go pick them up with her. i shrugged, giggled at her exuberant enthusiasm, and agreed to meet her on the cusp of this monsoon season.

and then: sigh. what can i say? i'm a bit of a sucker for shoes. i generally go for comfort with a little flare, but when i was surrounded by hundreds of pretty, strappy heels and everyone was buying a pair, i couldn't help but examine the electric blue ones. and the red ones.
i tried them on. and fingered the suede base. and oohed and aah-ed over my friend's custom made ones.

"they'll totally help me on the dance floor!" she exclaimed.
i examined my feet in those sexy heels in the mirror, "i don't know, R__n. i can hardly walk a straight line."
"they're half the price of the all the other ones we've been looking at!"
i gingerly tested my weight against those spikes. i was shocked to hear very little complaint from my toes. i did a quick inside turn and realized how balanced i felt.
"i'm sold."

so, tonight was my first test run of them. i actually danced with more balance than i do in my flats. and i suppose i looked sexier--which was strange.
i'm feeling pretty bad about myself these days, so i find it mysterious that guy'll still hit on me in this sea of skinny frilly beautiful easy women. albeit, the men hitting on me are generally pretty gross, but hey--sometimes superficial affirmation can get you to the next gas station.

plus, there was this British guy who insisted on buying me a drink... we like the same music/books/movies and have the same philosophies about traveling. which is important. and he was pretty cute. and i'm a sucker for European accents. (shame on me!!--it's so fucking cliche.)
and then there was this Korean guy, who got really cute with sharing his sweet ideas about... everything. we danced and talked and shared a smoke. and talked some more. and he was quite liberal about being friendly about being inside my personal space.
we talked about culture. and language.
he shared about his grandparents.
and Love. of course.
these Koreans!!

here's the problem. they both played it exactly right. though i was clearly a tad standoffish, they led the conversations to reveal where they might likely find me this weekend and beyond. i was definitely sending the "no-go" signals about giving out my number--and they abided by my unspoken request.
(thank goodness. i would've been creeped out.)
but damnit, this made me curious about both of them. why couldn't they both have been overbearing and creepy? now i'm inclined to flirt.

while we were in the middle of some talk about *something*, Seong-ju randomly grabbed me and twirled
me into a bachata number. i laughed in delight.
this is fun. i have no responsibilities to anyone. i can just enjoy the music. and moving my body. and our sweat.

here's the reality: i don't want a relationship. i don't even think sex is a good idea for me at this point...
but i did like his hands pulling and turning me into the beat of the bongo drum.

workingworking

Sunday night.
i just finished my Spring semester on Thursday, but i had to prep for summer school which starts... tomorrow.
phew. i'm exhausted. it feels surreal to have completed such an enormous task, only to be thrown into another. i'm also kinda stressed, but still looking forward to teaching a new set of students. it'll be another interesting challenge.

"do you think your job is too stressful for you?" one of my friends asked me this today. i'm not exactly sure what drove her inquiry, but it gave me a moment of pause.
"no. not really."
"but you're always so busy and stressed out all the time," she protested.
"but i really enjoy what i do... and actually, it's not so much the job that creates the stress--i create my own extra busyness when i'm at work."

i'm a psycho perfectionist when it comes down to things that matter to me. thus, when i get invested in something, i will absolutely lose sleep over it. in fact, that's probably a good gauge for assessing how much anything matters to my person. if i'm not losing any sleep over it, it probably doesn't have much intrinsic value to me.

that's probably pretty bad for my health. i am in constant need of stimulation. i can see the effects of this on my body. i know i'm aging--probably more quickly than before. i've got handfuls of grays sprouting, and this makes me wonder if i should try to "relax" more. but, relaxing seems boring to me.

well, tomorrow's a new thing. a month of crazy lesson planning and meeting people and trying to get my life/head together. following that, i'll have a week off, then i'll work a summer camp, have another week off and then, the Fall semester begins. 16 weeks later, i'll have 10 weeks to "relax". i think i'll be going back to Indonesia. or... Vietnam and Malaysia. or all three... i've gotta start thinking on that.