The Last Lecture

Talking to my friend Sharmilla today I brought up this video. It's an inspiring "lecture" from a Carnegie Mellon professor who is dying of cancer. He is brilliant, funny, and he's got a lot to say about pursuing your dreams. Watch the whole thing, if you can - it's just over 1 hour long. I credit Shuwen for sharing it with me. Chances are you've seen it. But if you haven't, here ya go.

Get tissues. Take notes. Enjoy.

U2 3D

U2 is my favorite band but I can't listen to them on CD/iPod anymore. When I really miss them I would play a track or two, or the whole of "Achtung Baby." But very rarely. Because CD's just cannot convey how good they are. They are 100x better in an arena. And yes, okay, because I'm spoiled for having seen them multiple times live. Oh, the good ol' days.

Today I made a 1hr35min trek to (omg) zone 2 to the only one theatre in the Melbourne area that still plays U2 3D. And I'm glad I did. I've forgotten how much good U2 can do for my soul, and I don't say that flippantly. Granted, it's more than their music and performance that keeps me coming back. I admire them as a group of people and organization. But - back to U2 3D:

The film is quite a technical feat - and it shows. I don't know the first thing about 3D technology but I applaud how subtly the production leverages the technology. It doesn't scream 3D, if you know what I mean. You might be disappointed because of it, and that's okay, but I think it shows incredible restraint not to exploit the technology and instead respect the whole.

The sound mixing is so incredible that I almost want to attribute the 3D feel to the sound. The recording and mixing of the audience was superb. It might just fool you to think you are there in Buenos Aires or Melbourne or wherever else they shot it. If you've been to a U2 show you know that uplifting, intoxicating atmosphere that is the audience singing in unison with Bono conducting.

So I recommend it.

I also recommend:

• U2 at the end of the world by Bill Flanagan. Bill went on the Zoo Tour with the band and wrote about it and more. Highly entertaining read and a beautiful portrait of the band. I learned that U2 almost broke up! Thank the good Lord they didn't (I don't say this flippantly either).
  
• U2 live. One of those things you gotta do before you die. Promise.
  

The original Emo

Okay. In light of that last post. Lest you think it's all peaceful and beautiful in here - that is, in my head - please hear me: It's not.

Sometimes it is. Sometimes I'm so grateful. I've experienced wonderful, miraculous, good things in my short life. Love what I have been given. Love what I can look forward to. Love love love.

Other times, it's like: I'm thirty. F#%*(!!!!

I admit: I am grateful and I am terribly anxious about this milestone. There is barely a second between those two diverging feelings. I suppose that part of growing up is loving yourself better and that means accepting your somewhat nonsensical nature. But don't quote me on that one.

I've been reading a lot of the Psalms lately and I recognize the simultaneous lamenting and praising. It's freeing to bring all that you are to a just and faithful God. all. that. i. am. just as i am. completely. Listen to the psalmists go: God you are faithful, you are good, how long do I have to wait for you? I'm poor and need, please come quickly and destroy my adversaries.

It's almost embarrassing the way those sentiments and pleas all run together side by side urgently. I say 'almost' because I actually recognize myself in those words, although I may not have the sensitivity or courage to say them. I relate. It's altogether the most honest and most real. But it might not be the most natural (see Thurman below).

I submit to you, the psalmists are the utmost emo - if not the original.

****

Our Father, we turn to Thee in the quietness of this meditation period. It is but natural that we expose to Thee the things in us that seems most worthy and good that we may delight Thy Spirit and joy Thy Heart. The unworthy and the ugly things in us we almost instinctively seek to hide, to cover up, that we may seem pleasing in Thy Sight. But deep within us we know that this is not enough. We know that somehow we must be totally exposed to Thee, holding back nothing, seeking refuge behind no protecting screen or darkening shadows. We do not keep back the unsightly from Thee because we cannot trust Thee, dare not run the risk, but because we cannot deny the urge to offer in prayer the best that is in us.

Teach us to know that Thy love is so whole and so healing that nothing less than all of us can rise to meet Thine all-encompassing care. Teach us to share with Thee the good and the bad in us, the ugly and the beautiful, the clean and the sordid, the success and the failure - all, everything complete in every part. With penitence for fumblings, failures, ignorances and sins; with thanksgiving for directness, successes, knowledge and rightness, we lay bare all that we are to Thy love and Thy understanding, O God our Father.

- Howard Thurman, Meditations of the Heart, p. 31, emphases mine

On being nonsensical, or, What am I thinking on my birthday

To let you in on my reflections upon turning - ehem - older, I shall have to turn you onto G.K. Chesterton because he was the first to make sense on this concept. He's neither the first to introduce it, nor is he the originator of it, but reading his book Orthodoxy made it all click. Actually, it was more like a crash! boom! for me.

In the beginning of the book he said that Love is nonsensical. "A thing must be loved BEFORE it is loveable."

Do you hear the crash! and the boom! ?

If anyone loves you, it is not your doing. If you love anyone, it is not because he/she merits your love. Love hinges on the Lover, not the Beloved.

Another wise interpretation of this is in a top-notch film called Bruce Almighty. You know it: Bruce, Jim Carrey's character, gets all the power in the world which means he gets to play God - when God, played by the remarkable Morgan Freeman, gives it to him. The only power Bruce does not have is to make anyone love him. Beautiful. Recently I heard a song, a Bonnie Raitt song, called "I can't make you love me (if you don't)." Again, beautiful (and painful), because it's true.

I think of Chesterton, and Bruce, and Bonnie Raitt's song, because I am looking at a gift of pictures and words from my friends, and at the flowers in my room, and the cards on the dining table. And I think of how much I don't deserve it all. But it's fine, because it doesn't matter whether I deserve it or not; it is irrelevant. Your love (and my love, too) is nonsensical.

And so, friends, hope you know it's a compliment when I say: you are all crazy. (And so am I).

ps: Go read Chesterton's Orthodoxy. He might be hard-going at first, but stick with it. There are gems upon gems.

On repeat

Last Sunday afternoon was a warm day, so balcony doors were opened to let the April air breeze through. With that one subjects oneself to other people's music seeping in. My neighbors are quite musical, I must say. But one stands out. Somehow this one doesn't irk me. This one is special. This one plays Whitney Houston on repeat on a regular basis. I verified this with my housemate. Same song.

"I won't hold it back again, this passion inside... I can't run from myself, there's nowhere to hiiiiiiidde...."

Ah, she does have a voice. It wouldn't be my choice of Whitney song, but it'll do.

I have so much respect for my neighbour. Sometimes we think we are cooler than not when we blast our music, because blasting means imposing it on everyone. But somehow - this neighbour is not going for cool, I don't think. This one is just emoting. I mean, it's Whitney, right? With that song from the Bodyguard? Come on.

I find myself singing it the rest of the day. Although my range is pathetic. But I have Whitney singing along with me to cover me up, and my falsetto's alright.

"Don't make me....." - and the keychange in the middle of the phrase - "cloooose one more door! I don't wanna hurt anymooore...."

And then the lyrics just get better. And by better I mean honest, honestly cheesy.

"Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don't walk away from me...
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don't have you."

To hell with coolness.

Note to Self - re: magic wands

(But I post it in case you find it relevant)

“I am not a magic wand.”

God tells me this whenever I ask him to fix my problem. (Oh yes, I am one of those people who thinks she can hear God). I know, I say to God. Of course I know you’re not technically a magic wand. But you are God. You can fix problems like that. Right?

This, as they say, is where the rubber meets the road - when life of faith clashes with, well, life. I want God to be understandable, sensible, predictable, reliable, and so on - and does whatever I ask him to, when I ask him to. So when He doesn’t, is he really as powerful or loving as He says He is?

This is when I ask myself, Who is God and what do I believe about Him? Funny enough, I ask this all the time. And when I do, I approach it with some trepidation because doubt tends to give me pause, as if it’s something to fear. But it isn’t. A life of faith does not exclude doubt. Sometimes I wish it does because I think my life would be so much easier if I don’t ever doubt. Although, I suppose, then it won’t be much of a faith-filled life, then, will it? Like that guy in the Bible who says, “yes, Lord, I believe. Help me with my unbelief.” This paradox keeps me awake at night often.

But for now, let’s return to the magic wand.

So when He says He is not a magic wand, I say Hmm, why not? It sounds like such a stupid, childish question but I can’t help it – it’s there. It also nags. I can't pretend I don’t have silly questions. I mean, pretend? Pretend in front of God? If God is God then He already knows all about my stupidity and childishness and the extent of it – and He is not turned off by it. How do I know? Because he smiles (ah yes, sometimes I hear and see him) and shakes his head like, Oh dear, little dear. Then He leans over towards me with His hands clasped in anticipation for what else I have to say. And usually I have a lot to say:

Is it because you can’t fix my problem, Lord? You heal the sick, you cast out demons, you silence storms, you raise people from the dead – sometimes just by speaking!!! You perform miracles! My problem is hardly a huge problem; it’s nothing to you. Part the Red Sea or make the day stop; create the universe - now that's huge. You healed that woman and raised your friend from the dead. I’m just asking you to make this problem go away just like you made all those people’s problems go away. Instantly! Healed. Delivered. Resurrected.

Of course you can fix it. Fix it please. And fix me too while you’re at it.

And then it occurs to me. Four things.

#1. He thinks it far better to fix me than to fix my problem. He can fix these difficult situations for me but that’s not what I really need. “I came for you,” He reminds me, “not to solve all your problems, or to protect you from troubles, or to keep you blissful. If that’s all I do then I am not who I say I am. I can just blink and make those things happen. But I pursued you, I died for you, rose again from the dead for you, and I sent my Spirit to dwell within you. I did all that so that we can be together.” Yeah, He tends to talk a lot about this because despite my knowledge of it, I don’t act like I know it. His patience amazes me.

#2. Fixing me takes time. Time. Not a wave of the wand. And no one else can offer me all of that, without fail, other than God. In other words, because I need Him to fix me, I need Him to be GOD, not a magic wand. I'm impatient and I hate to suffer the process of growing, so of course I wish fixing me can be done with His blinking. But it cannot, because, …

#3. He wants us to be together. That’s the point. He fixes me by being with me. Even more correctly: His being with me fixes me. It’s frustrating, if you ask me, because honestly sometimes I don’t want to be with Him. But I do choose to be with Him, every time I arrive at that crossroad, because there is no one else like Him. What a conundrum. Besides, He won't leave me. Ever. He is relentless. Ack.

#4. God is GOD. So even though I want Him to do things for me or to be things for me (like a magic wand), I have to trust that He knows (me) better. It’s not easy for a controlling, calculating, future-oriented me to leave it to someone else, even if it is the God who knows me and loves me. It is frustrating, but I need to relinquish my fears. Daily.

Alright, Lord. You are not a magic wand, you do not just make my problems disappear, because you care more about my character and my growth so I can be more like you. Okay. Got it.

Then can you tell me what to do about the issues I’m having? Like, should I quit my job and go back to school? Just, tell me what to do!

“I am not a magic 8 ball.”

And... here we go again.

Recent going-ons

It's been a while since I wrote an update. I realize that most of you readers actually know me and wonder: what is she up to? So, here's a few:

SCHOOL has been tough. In addition to the immense workload this semester, I just received an invoice for a large fee which I did not expect. I need to contest it, but it is difficult to prove that I do not owe that. In short school is a source of stress. I wake up - no, I jerk myself awake in the morning with desperate thoughts: what am I going to do about it all? So if you are the praying kind, plead for peace and wisdom on my behalf. Much appreciate it.

FRIENDS have been wonderful. I have study buddies now with whom I spend a lot of time fretting, scheming, brainstorming. We look like the beginning of a joke: "An Indian, an American, and an Indonesian walk into the library... " Simply put, without them, I might've quit school. AG and AH - thanks for laughing at (and with) me. More stories on them later.

NEIGHBOURS are kinda crazy. My bedroom window faces another apartment building which has small balconies, like ours does. One night a woman sat in her balcony yelling at her neighbour. About what, I'm not sure. Profanities for sure. She went on for an hour or so. Another night, same apartment, a man was sitting there addressing someone either inside the apartment or on the phone, loudly. Again, for almost an hour he was at this. I'm not sure whether they are intoxicated or high on something or just really angry. I often think I should just tell them to keep it quiet. But then I'm scared they might do something. Sometimes I wish I was a buff man, stern-looking, like I mean business, so I can go up to people and say, "Excuse me. Is everything alright here. Would you mind going inside. You're disturbing the neighbours." Stern-like. Business. Then they would probably cuss me out but wouldn't dare do anything else. Much like a little dog. Yap yap yap because they're actually scared. Anyway, but I'm not a buff man. So next time, I've been told, I should call the police.

ENTERTAINMENT has been non-existent. I haven't been out exploring much at all. Tried Mexican food here (Taco Bill - yes, forreals) and was of course underwhelmed but what was I expecting? Still, sometimes the company makes it all worthwhile - thanks HS. But on the home-entertainment front:

• I read The Little Prince and fell in love. Fell and couldn't get back up. It's so beautiful and rich.
  
• Reading On Writing (Stephen King) - he's incisive, funny, and entertaining. I've never read his books before and don't know if I ever will (the genre scares me), but he is a darn good writer.
  
• Reading On Beauty (Zadie Smith). Smith has a great ear for the art of dialogue. Ha, I just realized both books are On something.
• Listening to Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever ago. CL2 sent me an e-mail w/ a link to download this off his website, with a note: You will love this music. CL2 is hardly ever wrong in these cases. Thanks!
• Watched the first season of House. Now I think every little health symptom means something big... And I'll die unless I go to Princeton Plainsboro Hospital. It's a funny, witty show with a superbly written main character.
  

Whew. That's it for now.