mimo provoz

means "out of order" in Czech. When a "mimo provoz" sign is hung on something, the phrase can also have the secondary meaning of "opening soon," though for some reason they choose to focus on the negative. They don't say that it will reopen soon; they just say "out of order." Broken. Kaput.

I think the mimo provoz sign has been up long enough. Sorry for that false start - the blog just won't die completely. This is more of a test, really. For me. I wonder if something was lost when I stopped writing. We'll see.

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clippers

I don't know why, but I consistently lose my fingernail clippers. Sometimes they are gone for good, but sometimes I find them again, though that is pretty rare. Just now as I was brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, I was thinking about how I needed to post on my blog. Then I noticed that I need to cut my fingernails. This was quickly followed by sadness, because I remembered that I just lost the last fingernail clippers I bought. But then the thought occurred to me that I had just found them again! But two seconds later I realized that I had in fact dreamt that. In my dream, I found my clippers - all of them. How there were so many pairs of fingernail clippers from so many years all in one place in my room (where I have lived barely over a year) is a question I didn't think to ask in my dream. I was just happy to have them all home again. It was a lot like the way I'm sure my mom feels when her children come home to visit over the holidays.

Anyway, I think I had that bizarre dream because my brain is starting to short out under the pressure of projects and papers and tests. I wish I had something more substantial to write about, but at least I'll feel good about having posted... Next week, next week, and it will all be over. I hope I can find some clippers before then, though, because this is really irritating.

anniversary

Well, It's been a long time. I'm not sure who might be reading at this point, but given that it's almost exactly a year since I started blogging, it seems like a good time to start again. This blog has been pretty neglected, and I've been missing it. It's kind of like an old friend, much like anyone who ever reads or says hello.

So, with the best of intentions, here we go.

stocks and bonds

People tell me to invest. They say things like, “If I had started putting away a few hundred a month at your age, I’d be a millionaire by now.” If only they’d invested, they’d have so much more now, and that’s the point – people who invest do so in order to have more than they already have. It’s a strategy to have better return for your money, higher profit, more capital, bigger, better, faster… It’s denying yourself something now so that you’ll have more later. That makes sense. If you want more badly enough, you’ll wait to get it. We don’t mind delaying gratification, just as long as it gives us more gratification.

Studying is an investment, often paying off in good grades and career opportunities. Buying a house can be a good investment, paying off as the property appreciates, and there are lots of other boring examples. I’d have to say, though, that of all the returns I’ve ever gotten from my investments, the only ones I really remember or hold on to are those that have to do with friends and people close to me – the things we’ve done together, places we’ve been, things we’ve talked and laughed about. I don’t remember what I did with the savings bonds I cashed in when I was 11, and I’m sure I have nothing substantial to show for it at this point, but that same year I moved to a new town and made some new friends that are still some of my closest.

I was thinking about all the resources I have, and I think time is the most valuable (and possibly the only truly un-renewable) resource we have. Once it’s gone, it’s gone, and I’m sure there are many who would give all they have just for some more time. It’s one of the easiest things to waste, but also one of the most precious gifts you can give. The word on the street is that at the end of your life, all you’ve got is your relationships. If that’s true, then the best possible investment of resources (and hence time, the most valuable resource) is in people. There isn’t usually much material profit to be gained from investing time in people, but investing like that can have greater returns than anyone can imagine.

People invested time in me, with no real promise of return, and no evidence that their investment wasn’t just a waste. But I am who I am today because of them, and I think a lot better than I would have been otherwise. In some sense, they invested in me for my benefit, not their own. The result of their investment was that I profited. Some of the most influential people in my life, who took time for me, giving me of their most valuable resource, still have no idea how great the return was. And I suppose that every year I live longer, the return will, by God’s grace, only grow.

For many investors, I’d imagine, the only thing worse than having an investment fail is having an investment succeed wonderfully, and yet never receive a penny of the profit. It’s strange that this is what investing in other people is like, and I’d argue that investing in people is the greatest investment possible. Maybe that’s an upside-down way to look at the best of all our resources, but it’s made the difference for me.

many thanks

I just wanted to thank everyone for the birthday wishes. Sometimes belated wishes are even better, not because people either forget you on your birthday or don't even know it is your birthday, but because the happiness and cheer get stretched out over a much longer period. After all, birthdays are really more about friends and family, and less about the anniversary of one's own birth, which one has absolutely no recollection of and often simply has to take on faith that it even happened at all. Instead of looking in the mirror and cursing time and the aging process, maybe I can start marveling at how my very existence is proof of something that can't really be proved any other way.

So official blog thanks to Dad, Marty, Danishmand, Will, Sad, Jonathan, and anyone else I might have missed.

Hm. Danishmand - Yes, I've been told that I'm a Taurus. I always liked that constellation, mostly because the Pleiades are in it, but I have to confess that I don't pay any attention to the zodiac or horoscopes (except in some Chinese restaurants on the placemats - I'm a monkey by that calendar, and not so thrilled that it tells me I'm easily frustrated and confused) . You got me thinking now... Not that I think that everything is fate or luck, either - I'd have to agree with the Hermit from The Horse and His Boy :

"I say!" said Aravis. "I have had luck."

"Daughter," said the Hermit, "I have now lived a hundred and nine winters in this world and have never yet met any such thing as Luck. There is something about all this that I do not understand: but if ever we need to know it, you may be sure that we shall."

In a strange paradox, I believe that though there's a rhyme and reason to life, though there are many things that are meaningless also. The world doesn't work like it should; to most, the most glaring evidence of this is any of the countless examples of bad things happening to good people, or of terrible people prospering. But when it comes to people, to individual hearts and minds, and the questions, fears and hopes that fill them, there is something constant. There is a thread that runs through every life, almost always invisible, except for those rare times you experience something astonishing, terrible or wonderful, that inexplicably demands your attention and yet allows you dismiss it if you wish.

I'm not very old, wise or experienced. In the short life I've had, though I've barely scratched the surface of what is beneath (and above and all around), but I've started to think that luck and coincidence are cop-out answers.

Chances are that I'm preaching, as they say, to the choir. I still don't understand most of what happens, but I've seen enough movement of God's hand to know that there is reason, a plan, a Mind, a Heart, that underlies all of the shallow, day-to-day meaninglessness in our frail lives. I'm slowly learning to go right to the source, and tell Him what I think of it all, and learning to understand how He works, and what He sounds like when He speaks through His word, or through friends of mine, or directly to me.

Sometimes I think it's a mercy that I don't know the future, as much as I'd like to. I spend enough time already thinking about it, and sometimes I'm not even able to get free from what's behind me. But if the same thread that's been weaving through me up until now continues on forever, I'll be happy with that. I'm looking forward to a time when there will be no unanswered questions, or maybe even better - a time and place when my questions will just completely dissolve, and peace will finally have crowded out the lies and noise for good.

A man's steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand his own way?
Proverbs 20:24

Well, I don't understand my own way, or even how my own mind and heart work. But there are a few things I know for sure, and for those I'm thankful.

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:11-13

notes from a surrogate thinker

note: An Enlightened Fellow has provided this latest blog entry. My thanks to him for his aid during this blog drought. The term "Lord Chancellor" refers to me, in case anybody was wondering, and is an old title from the high school days when we had time to do fun things, like start societies in which everyone needed a title. In those days the Enlightened Fellow carried the distinguished title of Prime Minister.

Ripples in a Pond

Because the Lord Chancellor has neglected his writing duties in regards to this blog, I, An Enlightened Fellow, have been contracted (without pay) by my own person to write this post in his stead. I have been instructed by the Lord Chancellor to avoid the use of too much redundant verbosity, although he will allow me to use some small amount. I was also instructed to submit something in the spirit of his blog, so that, as he put it, it would not be like printing a comparison of late model mid-size sedans in a copy of Horse and Hound. Given that I am writing this in my physical therapy administration class, I imagine that it will probably remain a fairly short post, but should not lack for thoughtfulness or attentiveness to detail.

My chosen topic is that of thoughts and their general tendency to move through the world much like ripples in a pond, except that the pond is not made of water, but of brain matter. An example could be made of Einstein's theories of relativity. The thought that time does not flow at a constant rate throughout the universe was one that started in the brain matter of Einstein and over the past century has rippled throughout the world in the minds of, first, scientists, then gradually made its way into the thoughts of the general public (though it is hardly an idea that ripples strongly in most minds today).

What is amazing about the current era is that the tools that allow these thoughts to ripple have become so advanced that instead of taking months to ripple around the world, they can be rippled in seconds with the click of a button.

On that note, I will click a few buttons, send this off to our delinquent Lord Chancellor, and allow him to click a few more, which will bring this thought to you.

Thanks to Martin also for the photo.

living it up

What I did on my birthday yesterday: Took a couple final exams, taught a class in the evening, went for a bike ride and got filthy, hit a tree very ungracefully (I have this theory that if I have no currently healing injuries or wounds on my body, it means I'm not being active enough), and spent sunset on the beach. Right as the sun was going down, fog rolled in from the lake (Lake Michigan) and covered the town. Fog makes things quieter, like snow. On the way home I thought I would celebrate by getting a speeding ticket. At least he lowered the fine to $100. Maybe that was his way of congratulating me on the big day, I don't know, but I'm happy to report that it would take a whole lot more than that to ruin my day.

May 3 has come and gone. I didn't get to do everything I told myself I would do, but I got some of it - No hammock, but we had a good game of frisbee and I just finished eating almost a whole pineapple. I had some fantastic bread (Courtesy of my neighbor Angela's mom and The Grain Bin in Lincoln, NE), breathed deeply, ate some fresh vegetables and drank lots of water. The only thing missing was the hammock, book (The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell) and the orange juice. Maybe tomorrow. Man, these are good days.

"Those who know your name will trust in you,

For you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you."

Psalm 9:10

amen

From my place, if you drive north about 20 minutes, you find yourself in the city with Michigan's highest crime rate per capita. This last Saturday, we spent the afternoon in some of the rough neighborhoods going door-to-door handing out free books and just meeting the people that live there. Some people didn't really want to have anything to do with me, but most of them were really great. I got to spend some time on the porch with a family talking about life and local happenings,...

One house had a fence around it (like lots of them), so I opened the gate, went up to the front door, left a book, and walked back to the street. The second I stepped through the gate, the biggest doberman I've ever seen came tearing around the corner of the house. I've never seen the Devil, but I think he and this doberman must be friends.


Hm. I was looking for a picture of a mean dog to put here, and I found the one on the left. The dog I met was a lot more like the one on the right, except scarier. The website where I found the one on the left said the little dog's name is Boo-Boo. Anyway.

I started wondering how you would get out of a place like that if you wanted to (the city, not the yard with the dog). It's too bad that most of the people are stuck there. In St. Louis this last summer I was talking to some guys who were cleaning tables, and they asked me where I was from. I said I was from Tennessee, and asked them how they liked St. Louis. "We hate it - take us with you!" I wish I could have. I just heard about a documentary where an organization got some teens from the inner city and took them to Africa, into the bush. It was rough for them, but by the end, several were crying at the thought of going back.

Helplessness is one of the worst feelings. I see things that need to be done, people that need to be helped, but what can you do? Even if there is more than enough food in the world to end starvation (like I've heard so many times), it is so frustrating when all you can do is make a little dent in the problem, while the majority remains unsolved, simply getting worse. I know it makes a difference for whoever you meet. If you can't take people out of bad situations, then I suppose you can at least take some good to them. That sounds so cute and cliche. Ah well. As cliche as it might be, some people are actually doing it - I saw this sign in the middle of the place, and I think the preacher man's doing his part to make the world a better place...

drifting on course

There have been a lot of things lately that have taken the wind out of my sails, so to speak. I've found that I'm about as good at failure as I ever was at success. I wonder if it would be bad to get too used to either, but in the last little while I've been tempted to get used to failure. I think the moment I did that, though, I'd just have to quit the whole thing, and I'm not interested in that.

I think I've accumulated an all-time high of tasks, responsibilities, and unanswered questions (maybe unanswerable, some of them). There have been people that make me want to be anonymous and events that make me wish I was new in town. My car is on empty. I put my last $5 in yesterday, and it didn't even bring the needle above the E. I've been living off my roommate's stash of peanut-butter crackers and a giant case of chips and big jug of salsa I got at Sam's a few weeks ago. Oh, and I also got a case of green beans. That was supper last night. Today's lunch: a can of corn.

On May 3, things are going to be different. I'm going to get up early, go outside and breathe deeply. I'm going to go for a hike, eat a ton of fresh vegetables, some really good bread, and maybe even a fresh pineapple. I'm going to try to find someone to play frisbee with or kick a soccer ball around with, and I'm going to drink my fill of the finest spring water and fresh-squeezed orange juice. After lunch I'll string up my hammock and read a book in the shade. And after my nap, the day will just get better and better.

Just thought I'd let you know.

great

What a beautiful day! I spent most of the day outside. Studied in the orchard on the University farm for a while, went for a walk, fell asleep studying in the backyard. Spent a productive evening in the library, did some research and some assignments, and best of all, now I'm about to go to bed, and I feel fine. Fantastic, to be honest. The food I ate today was magnificent, and I drank a lot of water. The sun was out and it was warm and breezy. I found out that to replace all the belts in my car will cost $791. Not so warm and breezy. But I'm not about to let that spoil everything else.

Wow, I was surprised to see some new commenters. If you're reading this, but not commenting, just know that I don't think of you as a "lurker." Never really liked that word. Too negative. But not like I think that we should get rid of all things that have negative connotations. Some people think teachers shouldn't grade papers with red ink. Too bloody or condemning. They should instead use a less aggressive color, like green. I think that is a good example of what is wrong with society (not that teachers use red ink, but that people have a problem with it)... Do we really care more about colors than grades? If colors are so expressive, then maybe we should quit giving grades and just put a sticker of a happy color if you did well, or one of a disappointing color if you failed.

At any rate, here's somethingI've been thinking about:

People are usually remembered for the great things they have done, accomplishments or things of consequence, whether for good or for bad. If you say the name Eli Whitney, if people have heard it at all, they stand a good chance of knowing that he invented the Cotton Gin (not as many know that he also repaired violins). Or some easier ones - Abraham Lincoln, Ghandi, Napoleon, Fidel Castro (no particular order, rhyme or reason to that list). Not that everyone on that list is all that great, but they are well known.

People are not only remembered for their large accomplishments or for extraordinary circumstances, but they are often defined by them. When you meet someone, you are told "This is so-and-so. He did this and that, and was in this place when this thing happened. You know that other monumental event that happened that one time? He did all of that." Or you get something like: "She's a world-class whatever and can do all these incredible things better than anyone else. You need that thing done, you call her. She's the brains behind us all." Or if they're really important, you'll be told only one thing, as if that says it all and no further explanation is necessary. "This is What's-his-face, the whatever. Their emphasis on that one defining characteristic or position or accomplishment says it all: They are somebody because of it. And unless you can top it, you are not somebody. You might even be nobody, but the line between the "not somebodys" and the "nobodys" is so blurred, they might as well be one group.

Is this the only criteria we have for finding some kind of definition? Perhaps it's one of the only criteria we use... Some would say that people are defined ultimately through relationships. I am the son of my father and mother. I am Janelle's brother. Some would say that people shouldn't be defined, because it is some kind of unfair or constricting categorization. I'm not sure. It's been said that heroes are ordinary people just caught in extraordinary circumstances, but what about all the ordinary people who fail at the last minute, who just can't cut it? How are they defined? Are they nothing more than a failure? But whether or not people are remembered for the great things they have done or not done, I don't think that is really indicative of true greatness, which is easily confused with fame. Maybe great accomplishments are an outward symptom or an occasional flare-up of an underlying greatness, which is really more of a grassroots operation. True greatness must be largely an underground movement.

Well, this is kind of an unfinished thought, but what do you think?

I'm off to bed.