if my prayers held hands i hope they'd circle the earth

i was thinking about the people i wanted to remember by prayer tonight, and i felt a little overwhelmed by the number of people in my heart. then, paradoxically, i felt a surge of desire to pray for everyone i know, which led to wanting to pray for everyone i don't know, and not generically but by name. how do i draw the line? how do i ever stop pleading for grace?

a short thought on home

tonight, the fog was so cut-it-with-a-knife thick that when i pulled onto the off ramp, i thought i was driving to heaven. my off ramp slants up, you see, and is under a series of lights bright enough to barely illuminate the fog. this wasn't a metaphor in the moment, no--in one of those awesome tricks my brain likes to play at the end of a very very long day, i actually thought for a breath that i was driving to heaven. it was a happy breath.

then i turned the corner, went down the same distance i upped, and remembered where on earth i was, though i couldn't see an earthly thing. i determined that home is the place that you still know how to find, even in the fog, and i was happy then too.

a dead poets society moment

note to the future me:

when i get tired with the world, or feel bored by life, or forget i can do new and good things that actually help people, stop. right then and there. read a book. have a conversation about something that matters with someone who’s passionate. go outside and marvel. sit quietly for 2 minutes and think about memory, vastness, how it feels to have a heart. the world is too real to waste it.

remember that on a not so cold day in january, i made new meaning of why i choose self-improvement as my forever quest: not because i want to be better than anyone else or even my past self, but because nothing else makes sense on this repeat-cycle earth than to go beyond where i am right now, to do something more gracefully and graciously the next time, to be differenter every moment than the last.

i must strive. i must push. i will make mistakes and muddy my face when i fall, and it will feel uncomfortable, even more so when the new me rubs tensely against the old. there will always be conflict between the way things were and the way things will be, the way i was and the way i will be. the best parts of life will spark from that rub.

this is my today truth.

anew

oh hey humans. you know why i love the word "anew" so much? because it balances both the newness and the againness of  the new year. that's an important balance, don't you think? we don't just peer into a brand new start, totally oblivious to what waits down the road; we stand at the top of a habit, on the back of a tradition, in the rut of our ways. i'm okay with that, some new and some again. if we didn't bring the past with us, there'd be no such thing as change.

so without further ado, my version of "resolutions."

1. be bold in relationships. i'm not totally sure what this means yet, but i think the year will tell me. i'm not just talking dating, so watch out humans--i'm a comin. 
2. buy a road bike that actually fits me. then ride it a lot, probs even hundred miles a lot in a century race. 
3. eat lunch and dinner more in than out. i'm 1 for 6 so far, but i can turn this ship around.
4. convince myself through habit that 10:30 pm is a wayyyy better bedtime than 1:30 am. 
5. surprise myself. this means thinking, 'i'm not really the type of person that would do xyz,' then snapping out of it and doing xyz. 
6. go at least one near and far place i've never been before. on purpose. 
7. love the ones i'm with. explore my hometown like i'm on vacation. put the phone away when i'm with humans. stop holding back at work. you know what i mean?
8. face the dream that feels so lofty i'm embarrassed to even mention it, then take one big step towards going for it. 
9. express gratitude to God and man every single day.

let me start with you. thank you, formless faceless idea of friends, for making me feel enough like someone is listening that i write stuff occasionally. i guess all i need to write is the idea, the possibility, of readers. i need real friends though.

i've also got another round of resolutions cookin, and you can participate if you feel so inclined and if i ever get it on this blogo. don't stay on the edge of your seats forever though.

go, live your new lives again.

resolved, 2013 edition

i get serious about my resolutions, you know, so more is coming. but here's the short list.

1. love more. both breadth and depth.

that time i went to china

i had such a terrific time. here are some highlights.

tried new food (enjoyed it not so much.)

 loved the people, especially our guides. seriously wonderful people.

yoyo. guided us by bicycle through the hutong.

oliver. best. guide. ever.

woman at silk factory. she kept calling us, 'my dear friends.'

may. best. style. ever. and yes, i was part of one of those tours with the flag.

thoroughly enjoyed the english translations on signs.

marveled at the architecture.

channeled Mulan at the great wall in honor of chuch.

felt a strange human kinship with the terra cotta warriors; over and over, wanting to know each story, and over and over, remembering they weren't real.

was captivated by the traffic (and grateful to come home alive. right after i took this picture our guide had to get out and stop all oncoming traffic so we could make it down this street.)

was entertained and enriched by the deep and totally different culture.

i hope everyone gets a chance to go to china. knowledge is love.

passion

i've spent the day in jammies, in bed, in contagious quarantine, in and out of aches, in a quiet snowy world where everything is muffled. even i have hardly said a word.

hello.

it's been mostly delightful in spite of the sick because i'm right in between too sick to do a stinkin thing and not sick enough to feel justified lounging in bed all day. that's a nice place to be, if you have to pick a point on the sick spectrum.

today i did things i never do. i read for hours. i researched phd programs. i responded to emails (at least some, the long involved kind.) i made doctor's appointments. i updated my facebook picture. i took notes about an essay i might write if i get the guts. i ate a whole carton of sorbet. IN BED. i paid money for apps like radiolab and this american life, and i slipped into a forgotten dream of writing for the radio.

 all of this--especially the sorbet--led me here, to one frightening towering question:

do i have passion?


i'm tempted to watch pride and prejudice and put the question away for a louder, more arrogant day, but i don't know if i have control over those kinds of things, especially since the day sort of led me here. i think i misunderstand passion, just as i misunderstand creativity, feminine sweetness, genius (of smarts or skill)--my default brain setting is that you're either born with these traits or you're not. and if you're blessed enough to be born into such traits, your will to choose is compromised. you wake up in the morning and you can't do anything but write! you encounter an unpleasant situation and your voice just comes out in honey tones and forgiving smiles! you sit down to the piano and masterpieces ensue!

clearly, it's selfish to think of passion this way because it absolves me from any responsibility to choose it, to create it, to fuel it, to constantly adapt it for survival inside an apathetic-trending world. however, i'd settle for a compromise (heaven, are you listening?) where passion would be demanding enough to determine its object but submissive enough to put the burden of pursuing that object on me. i feel like i know some people for whom this is the case. chuch and brains. kingfish and fish. ben and life. jan and recycling. why not me?