Long Road out of Eden.

Because I was so busy this past month, I didn't even have time to anticipate the release of the new Eagles' album. Today was the big day though! I thought I could just go to HMV to pick it up, but after some Google-ing, I found out it was being sold exclusively at... Wal-MART! I also found out that the closest Wal-Mart was all the way in Kitchener. I thought I would just have to wait till some other chance to get my hands on it.
Today I had a physical optics midterm, my seventh test since the month's start. I thought I'd get to work studying for Friday's medical microbio exam, but after getting home from the pool, I decided I had no desire to hit the books again. So I called Little Jon and made plans for an adventure to Wal-Mart later that night. We left around 7:30 and I picked up the 2-disc set for the great low price of $11.99. Then I went to Erin's for House night, and showed off my fabulous new purchases. Livvy came over too, and we ate cookies and chips while watching House ridicule people. I took the bus home, thrilled to listen to my new CD!
Once I got back, I imported the album into iTunes and synced up my iPod almost immediately. I packed up my knapsack for school and got ready for bed along to my new Eagles tunes, encouraged that this seemingly endless midterm season would indeed be over soon.

Just too busy being fabulous.

My Cup Runneth Over.

Years after the introduction and phasing out of Latte Tuesdays, and regardless of how increasingly popular Starbucks is due to its trans-fat-free pastries and free-trade coffee beans, Second Cup is still my favourite specialty coffee retailer.
It started back in high school, when lattes cost only $2 on Tuesdays, leading to a greatly anticipated weekly tradition amongst my friends. We'd go to Don Mills Plaza (now a pile of rubble, or less) after school to grab a drink to take on the bus, or head over to the beloved Javahole Second Cup on Steeles to have our caffeine fix while studying. The Javahole is named of course for Javathon, our favourite high school dropout and coffee barista, who unfortunately stopped working there after a near-death carjacking experience. The wobbly tables were for studying and storing into memory; the plushy couches were for chitchatting and making memories.
Those days are long gone now - lattes cost the same on any given day, and it's not really Javahole without Javathon there. I went back to that Second Cup when I was home for the Thanksgiving long weekend. It has been renovated, now with snazzy decor, sturdier tables, and even a mock fireplace - a new look fitting for a new era. I wasn't there with the girls from Don Mills; that time I had a date with anatomy, and a couple Capstones. It was raining that afternoon, and I sat there with my books and laptop and vanilla bean latte, watching the downpour through the picture window.
Today I went to Second Cup at University Plaza with Kat and Jasy. The last time I remember having coffee with them there was two years ago, on a wintry December night with a bunch of girls in our year. It was not quite as cold today as it had been then. We gabbed and gushed over caramel corettos. Incidentally it was raining. I find something very fulfilling about having warm coffee and good company on a rainy day. I was going to do some studying there, but the Internet wasn't working (Internet is free at select Second Cup locations, as opposed to having to pay for it at Starbucks!); I took it as a disguised blessing and a chance to spend more time catching up with old friends.
So while everyone else is buying into the Starbucks hype, you can always find me with my Second Cup in hand.

Foveal Farm Fest.

Keeping in mind that Saturday mornings are my favourite time of the week, I enjoy Friday nights just knowing that Saturday mornings are just on the other side of a good sleep. However, this weekend I have to study perception, so my Saturday will be a wee bit less relaxing. But I made up for that today, with a light afternoon and the Foveal Farm Fest. Tonight, my class (well I guess about half the class) took a break from our books and held our first social event on Jen's farm.
Classes were over early today, around 11:45. Those who didn't have lab were able to leave, but I had to stick around for lab at 1:30. It was a relatively quick and painless lab, so we finished early, so I got home by about 3:45, at which point I fell into bed and passed out until 4:30. After that, I ate something quick and got ready to be back at the school for 6:30. We all met and split up into cars, and took off for the farm!
Jen lives on an old farmhouse in Kitchener, c. 1850 or something like that. She has a cat and a dog, and her mom prepared hot dogs, snacks, hot chocolate, and 16 homemade pies for us. Her brother took us on hayrides around the property, through the cornfields. We sat around chatting and eating; some people started a foosball competition; eventually we made our way around the campfire to bask in its glow, roast marshmallows, and sing songs, accompanied by two guitars and a djembe.
The festivities ended quite early; most people left before or around 10 pm. It was a very fulfilling night though, I left very satisfied and content with the company and food I'd had. It was nice to sit and spend time with my... colleagues, I guess, outside of a classroom, find out more about their personalities, and know more about them than just their names. It's incredible to look at the calendar and realize we've only been a class together for 6 weeks - it feels like so much more! But when I stop to think about it, even though I see these people every day, I really don't know much about most people at all. I can't wait to see how we will be by the end of the year. After today's Corneal Cup presentation, I can barely even wait until the new term, so I guess there's a bunch of things to look forward to in steps.
Anyway, I didn't mean to get emo or anything like that (in this post anyway), I just wanted to share about the cool farm experience. Laura and I even got to nick some leftover pie and take it home, so there'll be dessert for the next few days! :)

Tip of the day: Add an eye anatomy term at the beginning of anything and turn it into an optometry event.

Saturday lurve.

Saturday mornings are my favourite time of the week. When I was a kid, it meant watching Saturday morning cartoons with my sister. It meant fishy-shaped pancakes that my dad made with love, or oatmeal that he made with love and didn't know that we would refuse to eat.
As time passed and my sister and I entered adolescence, my family started going out to have breakfast with my grandparents at Chinese cafes. Our parents had to pry us out of bed so we could make the breakfast cutoff time at 10.
Since I started University and live on my own, breakfast with my grandparents happens a lot less. When I'm in Toronto, we still have breakfast or lunch together, and follow it up with some shopping or studying. In Waterloo, Saturday mornings are a time of sleeping in and recuperating from a long week and perhaps a late Friday night. It's a time to plan my day and plan my weekend.
Today is no exception. A full nine hours of coma-like sleep. Apple cinnamon oatmeal for breakfast. (I eat oatmeal now; if my dad knew, he would surely make a snide comment about how I used to refuse to eat it.) A cup of hot orange pekoe. Hot shower, plushy bathrobe. iTunes. Check.
Hmm...Should I go play football today? I have to meet Emzhei and Olivia at the library later.. what subject should I study? What should I have for lunch? Should I go watch the hockey game with Grad cell tonight? What dessert should/can I bring? How much should I really be studying for anatomy?
I am left now with more questions than answers still, but now I have to start acting if I am really going to be at school by 1:30.
Have a good Saturday. :)

Angel Party.

I remember starting at a very young age to pray for my paternal grandparents. My grandfather followed a Chinese religion that I didn't (and still don't) really understand, but it sounded sort of ancient and pluralistic from the way my dad described it. My grandmother, as far as I know, did not follow any religion. But at the end of every prayer, when I remembered, I would automatically tag on, "And please let Grandma and Grandpa become Christians". It was definitely force of habit that kept me doing that; what does it mean, "let" them become Christians? As if it was God that was keeping them from believing in the first place? I guess what I had meant was... please give Dad opportunity to talk to them about You. Or, please move in their hearts to let them realize that You are real, and present, and want a relationship with them. But who knows, I was only a child.
As the years wore on, it became a back-burner issue. I was not able to directly talk to my grandparents, partly because of the language barrier, but also because of the culture. It's not appropriate to talk to older people about dying, and definitely not my place as a granddaughter. I tried to be a good and loving granddaughter though, and be respectful, and eat dinner with them and go to functions all the time though, just so they would know I loved them. I would show them I cared, and pray for them.
I forget the year my grandma had bypass surgery, but I remember that post-op she said that she tried praying and that she could feel God's presence. It already made me excited to hear that, but I thought that perhaps it was just something she used to comfort herself in her vulnerable position.
My mom told me a few weeks ago though, that my grandma agreed to have an evangelism meeting on October 11 with the senior pastor and a family friend, also from our church. I started to become optimistic that she would become a Christian. Last night at life group, we prayed for her.
My mom called me at 9:50 tonight and told me that my grandma accepted Jesus as her Saviour!!
My response was a mixture of ecstasy and skepticism. I was so overjoyed that she finally crossed that threshold and made the decision to follow Jesus, whereas before she was only open to hearing about Him. At the same time, I wondered if she truly knew what it meant to follow Jesus. My mom assured me that they asked her several times, and asked her to say in her own words how she knew she was going to heaven. So I have decided to join with the angels and celebrate - I emailed my small group with the great news, and proceeded to write this blog even though I had wanted to sleep early tonight.
It's such a joy to receive answer to prayer in such a big way. I love my grandma and am so glad I'll see her in heaven. I really hope that through this, there will be opportunity to witness to my grandpa as well. He will definitely be extremely resistant, but nothing is too daunting for our God.
Her conversion is also a reminder that time is limited, and sharing the gospel is something that can't just wait on the backburner all the time. It starts simply by making the choice to deliberately love people, and being transparent about the Source of your love. Then keep praying for opportunity, if not your own, then at least for someone else.

Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let them say among the nations, "The Lord reigns!"

Impulse buy.

Here are the earrings I acquired yesterday at Ardene's with Amy before life group. I got these in a 3-for-$10 deal - 16 pairs in total! I usually don't buy jewelry from Ardene's; hopefully I won't end up allergic to the metal. I've been wearing two of the pairs (the ones missing from the pictures) for a few hours and so far they seem okay.
I don't think these count as "quality" earrings, so I don't feel like I can cross #60 off my list. Oh well.

Oh yeah, the Liberals won yesterday's provincial election. It is the first time in 70 years they have won two successive elections. The surprise this year was that the Green Party finished ahead of the NDP.

Giving Thanks.

things i am thankful for
- being in optometry school
- having a lifegroup
- passing the u.pass
- ridesafe
- chocolate chip pancakes
- sleeping in
- rain
- being indoors during rainstorms
- parents
- de-briefing
- wireless internet
- salvation
- chats with my mum
- tea
- public transit
- recycling
- democracy
- good friends
- good food
- good health
- boundaries and rights
- music
- dreams

Creepy Rogers Guy.

I should be studying for my Optics midterm, but I have to write a really quick post about the creepy Rogers tech that visited my apartment today.
So starting yesterday, the Internet service in my apartment went down. I called Rogers last night to set up an appointment for a technician to come in. It was decided that he would come today from 2-5 pm. I told my address to the lady on the phone and she asked if there was a buzzer in the apartment building. I told her there wasn't, so she said not to worry because they would call before they arrive.
Today I came home from class around 1 to make lunch. Paul also came to visit me around 1:30. He called me from downstairs and I went to open the door for him and showed him my apartment. We were hanging out in the kitchen and I was cooking when a knock came at the door. The Rogers guy!
"Did you have a service order in here?" he asked when I opened the door.
"Yes," I replied, ecstatic that he was showing up so early. Then I stopped to think. "How did you get in?"
"Rogers has keys to any building it needs," he replied as he entered. I didn't really think much about it until Paul mentioned that it was sketchy, and how then a tech guy could just take keys to enter a building, and then use the premise of being a Rogers guy as an excuse to enter people's apartments. And nobody would really think twice because... it's a Rogers service technician! Anyway I thought it was a very creepy idea, in light of some of the recent dorm attacks at York and such.
The tech said that there was a problem that might be solved by going into a panel in the boiler room, and asked if there was a superintendent or keyholder in the building. I said I didn't think so, so he said he'd go check... on something. I don't know, he just left.
Minutes later, he came back. I asked if he found the key, and he replied, "I used my master key," as he held up his screwdriver. As he crossed the living room, Paul and I exchanged wide-eyed stares.
The Internet is all fine now, but I certainly hope nothing goes wrong with it again. Having to wait around for Rogers technicians is definitely inconvenient, but is also starting to be a little creepy.

My vacuum cleaner's gone.

This past Sunday at church, we started a series called Twisted. The topic was about Twisted Truth, and how the world will lie to us about who we are. The reason I bring this up is that I recently encountered a situation in my building that made me realize just how much I do hate it when people lie to me.
Basically what happened is that I moved some furniture into my new apartment on August 31, and then went back to Toronto for a week. When I came back to move in for good, I found that a vacuum cleaner I'd left in a hall closet was missing. I told the landlady and the former superintendent, and both claimed to not have seen it. However, as I did more nagging about the situation, the superintendent said she saw the landlady using it in one of the apartments; the landlady insisted that she superintendent must have taken it. They have their own little feud, so there's a lot of he-said-she-said stuff going on. But where we end up is that I have lost a vacuum cleaner.
I can't figure out in this situation whether I am more upset about the loss of my actual property, or that someone is clearly lying to me about what happened. Of course I am mad that I lost something that was in my apartment, but it is plausible that a miscommunication occurred in which my vacuum cleaner was assumed to be the property of previous tenants, and got thrown out. I would totally buy that story. In this situation, though, nobody will own up what happened. Personally, I am siding with the superintendents; they tried really hard to help me, and said they saw her using it, and even called her on my behalf. My landlady gets her story mixed up all the time though - first she said she never even knew anything about it, and then that she had seen it, but doesn't know what happened to it. Her latest update is that she had been looking for it all day yesterday and still couldn't find it, so she will pay me some money for it, and she is sorry and very upset about it.
I have a hard time believing anything she says. First of all, how can she have spent all day looking for it? Students who have class wouldn't even be home during the day.
So, now for the moral, because I suppose every trying situation ought to have one. This whole ordeal has been on my mind basically for the whole week. I've been calling the landlady, talking to the superintendents, wanting to knock on random units to ask about it... But I realized how easy it is to let these situations consume you. I found myself coming up with possible scenarios of how and when she may have moved my vacuum cleaner... or if she was or is just hiding it somewhere so she can keep it for herself...
I noticed that I was starting to drive myself crazy. What it boils down to is that... my vacuum cleaner is gone. I have to grieve it, accept it, and handle the consequences with my landlady (like receiving another vacuum to use and/or receiving payment for the lost one). But the vacuum cleaner is just an object, something replaceable by money. I have to remember that my landlady is a person, someone inherently valuable and created by the same Maker. It's hard to not be fixated on money when student lifestyle has trained me to pinch every penny, but people should always come before money. Loving them, treating them with dignity, empowering them.
Hopefully I can put this situation behind me soon and improve my relationship with the landlady.

Optical Prime

Today was the second day of Optometry orientation. We had to show up at 9:30 to take pictures and get lockers... which literally took about 10 minutes, and then we were all stuck with nothing to do until lunch at 12:30. A bunch of us went to Bomber for breakfast, where more socializing occurred. At lunch, we all got paired up with a Big Brother/Sister who is supposed to be our helper/guide for the year. Mine is a guy named Ernest, a nice sort of fellow who said he has lots to give me. Yay!
After lunch we did a short scavenger hunt. It was mostly for fun and time-killing; they didn't even collect the sheets after. Then we went off on our Essilor-sponsored evening. It started out with five-pin bowling (which I found out I suck at). We made it silly though with antics like bowling backwards or lying down and stuff. Afterwards we took a tour of the KW lab, and then had some dinner. It was decent too - a roll, salad, lasagna, and dessert!
We ended the night there unless people wanted to go to McMullin's for drinks (not on Essilor; maybe that's why nobody wanted to go). So I came back home to get notes and prepare for tomorrow, the first day of real class! I probably shouldn't be late, so off to bed I go!
Ohyeah, Optical Prime is the name of our class (probably). I love nerdy science jokes - optometry jokes are even better.

Einmal ist keinmal.

In one scene early on in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Tomas is trying to decide what to do about Tereza, the waitress he met three weeks earlier in a small town, and with whom he had inexplicably fallen in love. Part of him wants to invite her back to Prague for good to be with him, but another part of him is holding him back. He spends some time recalling how he felt when he watched her, ill, sleeping on his bed, and wondering whether what he had felt was truly love, or merely hysteria.

And he was distressed that in a situation where a real man would instantly have known how to act, he was vacillating and therefore depriving the most beautiful moments he had ever experienced (kneeling at her bed and thinking he would not survive her death) of their meaning.
He remained annoyed with himself until he realized that not knowing what he wanted was actually quite natural.
We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.
Was it better to be with Tereza or to remain alone?
There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always a sketch. No, "sketch" is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.
Einmal ist keinmal, says Tomas to himself. What happens but once, says the German adage, might as well not have happened at all. If we have only one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all.
- page 8

The expression "Einmal ist keinmal" means literally "Once is never". Its sister in the English language is "One swallow doesn't make a spring". I thought it was interesting because I had never taken that expression to have a meaning the way Kundera describes it. I take it to mean something along the lines of "Don't jump to conclusions".
An interesting expression...
Why does something not count if it happens only once? Doesn't it make that event all the more special?
However, I do identify with Tomas' over-analytical and indecisive nature. For me, life is like one big choose-your-own-adventure novel, and depending on what you choose, you might end up in an entirely different situation. (I suppose I may now find myself in a heady conversation with somebody about predestination versus free will. That is for another day.)
And though I do believe in the afterlife, I have never once considered this life to be a dress rehearsal for the one to follow. My thoughts on the afterlife are not as yet very well thought out, but I think it may suffice to say that I believe life after death to be more of a continuation of our life on earth, rather than a second go-through.
Anyway, I liked this passage because the way Kundera described Tomas' indecision and then his frustration with his own indecision reflects the way I sometimes feel. But I do not then conclude that a life lived only once is not worth living at all - no, quite the contrary. Because we have only one chance to live this life, we need to pick the grandest adventure of all, making the best of every situation, making the most of what we have. Sometimes things that happen just once are more than enough.

Lightness/weight.

I've started reading a book by Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, under Caroline's recommendation. She described it vaguely as a philosophy book, and told me that it was originally written in Czech, so the style of writing is really quite beautiful and different. She read me a few quotes from it that she had written in a notebook of hers, and I was intrigued so I decided to take her up on it.
Now just over 50 pages in, I can see why it was such a difficult novel to describe. There are two main characters in the book so far: a womanizer named Tomas and his wife Tereza. (Tomas also has a mistress named Sabina - one of many.) Not very much 'happens' in the book, but the author delves deeply into the significance of the things that do. The question that the author seeks to answer in this work is described as such:

"If eternal return is the heaviest of burdens, then our lives can stand out against it in all their splendid lightness. But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?
"The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.
"Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.
"Parmenides posed this very question in the sixth century before Christ. He saw the world divided into pairs of opposites: light/darkness, fineness/coarseness, warmth/cold, being/nonbeing. One half of the opposite he called positive (light, fineness, warmth, being), the other negative. We might find this division into positive and negative poles childishly simple except for one difficulty: which one is positive, weight or lightness?
"Parmenides responded: lightness is positive, weight negative.
"Was he correct or not? That is the question. The only certainty is: the lightness/weight opposition is the most mysterious, most ambiguous of all."

So I hope that helps to set the tone for this novel. As people I think we're all somewhere in the middle of the scale between wanting to be carefree and weightless, but also wanting to make a difference in the world and have some pull in our respective situations. For us to assign a label such as positive or negative to either side seems a daunting task.
For the record, I believe weight to be the positive pole.

All about me.

I am... tired. But also really pumped from this weekend - my first time participating in CCSA playoffs since 2004. I'm sad we didn't win, but at peace with and very proud of how far we've come this season. I'm relieved that I didn't make a big mess of being governor, and was diligent in preparing devotions. I'm in shock that the season, the summer, is over. I'm still making moving arrangements. I'm nervous about starting a new program and living in a new place in September. I'm seeing the world through a different lens, only for a night.
I am... taking a trip tomorrow with some lovely ladies from work, just to say so long and farewell, before we go our separate ways for the school year. I'm so blessed to have met them and worked with them this summer.
I am... unpacking my softball gear from my duffel bag. I'm shaking out the dust and twigs. I'm going to fill it with my clothes and personal effects for the cottage. I'm waiting for pictures from our games to arrive in my inbox or on Facebook. I'm excited to share my battle stories with my girlfriends tomorrow, and sit by the lake reminiscing about this amazing summer.
I am... a Capstone.
I am going to bed.

Re: motives

Today Pastor Raymond made a point in his sermon that challenged what I said in my previous post about not really being able to do bad when you're doing good by having wrong motives. He said, basically, that motive is everything... which is like, the total opposite of what I had thought.
Anyway, on further reflection, I think he is right when it comes to doctriney-theology-stuff. I was flipping through Matthew and reached the part in Chaper 5 about adultery, where Jesus says, "You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." In that way, a man who even thinks about a woman lustfully, without even doing anything to express this, is already guilty of lust. So it's pretty clear that God looks at the heart, and the reason for what we do. The way that we approach Him in worship matters.
On a human relational level, I felt that motive matters less. Does it matter whether somebody helps me because they're trying to be kind, or because they think I'm an idiot? Is it important if somebody donated to charity out of good will or out of their own self-seeking aim for glory?
But using the... err... transitive.. property? (I certainly hope, but somehow doubt, that I'm applying this properly.) If our heart matters in the way we worship God... and... everything we do should be an act of worship... I guess motives matter in everything that we do.
So, to amend my statement, I will just leave it at that we are not in a place to judge other people's motives for doing things (such as the two hypothetical dilemmas I posed), but we should have our hearts in the right place when we ... do things.
...I am way too tired to write.

Good and evil.

"There absolutely can be evils acts. And there are evil or bad acts that can be committed by good people. We see that all the time. I see all these wrongful convictions, and I see all these people who have power, whether they are police or prosecutors, who really believe that they are good people, who have the authority and who begin to believe that if they decide somebody is guilty or has done something wrong, they are so righteous themselves and have done so much good in the world and avenged so much evil that their actions can't be questioned. And even more than that - that it's okay for them to bury exculpatory evidence, or to take shortcuts, to not follow fair process, to not even consider that they might be wrong because they are so good. Those people with that kind of self-righteousness very often commit acts of evil. And by evil I mean not just being wrong but doing things that are malicious. Gratuitously nasty.
"I look at evil acts, acts of malice, as opposed to a notion of evil as a force, as if there's something inside of people that inexorably leads them to take malicious, horrible, hurtful actions. There may very well be. I think that's an important distinction, because I see people all the time who, by an definition, describe themselves as good, and maybe in many other aspects of their lives you would not take issue with anything they do. They're good servants of the community, they're good to members of their family, they are, in many instances, very religious in the best of ways - kindness and charity and giving and good acts towards others - and almost because of their self-righteous belief that anything they do is good, they do evil."
-Barry Scheck, Attorney, in an interview with Cathleen Falsani, February 2005; from The God Factor

I won't lie: I think I'm a good person. I like to think I'm average or above-average in most categories, with the exception of height. I'm not really sure what I'm basing my judgments on, though, because I know for fact that I also do bad things. I don't know if I'd call them evil... but I guess that is, again, because I consider myself good - perhaps too good to be evil.
The words spoken by Scheck struck a chord within me as I was reading them today, emphasizing two things for me: that the distinction between a person and a person's actions is something we need to, but often forget to make; and that bad things - maybe even evil things - happen when people assume themselves to be good.
Through the psych courses I took at school, I learned all about the power of situation in determining people's actions and reactions, but also how people are the sum of their habits or actions or something. Even though I had a lot of theoretical knowledge about social psychology, it was still a struggle to learn to separate who people are from the things that they do. Personally I find it makes more sense only going one way: people who do bad things may not automatically be bad people, but how can people who do good things not be good people? I guess people can do good things for wrong motives, but I don't think it makes them bad, because they still did good. I actually wonder if there is such thing as a wrong motive for doing good.
That being said, I suppose it's how people arrive at the conclusion that they're good: because they do good things - for their family, their community, etc. But in order to arrive at said conclusion, people usually have to ignore all the bad stuff they did do. That's easily done by compartmentalizing our life, or placing less importance on the area what we're weak in. And especially if bad things are done in secret, nobody has to know, nobody gets hurt, and we can still see ourselves as good people.
When we start feeling too good about ourselves, our pride consumes us and we inevitably do bad, whether to ourselves or to others. When I thought I had everything under control and thought I was too smart to ask people for advice, I ended up doing and putting up with a lot of stuff I wish I hadn't. When we start taking emphasizing our own importance and worth over others', we damage relationships with coworkers, with friends and with family.
Nowadays people are expected to have a healthy dose of self-confidence. We learn to sell ourselves in job or school interviews, to impress friends or parents or [future] in-laws, and so on. It is so hard to reconcile that notion with the fact that Jesus, God incarnate, who died for the sins of the world, never assumed himself to be anything greater than a servant. In light of that... Who am I to assume myself to be anything great at all?
Lyrics from a song by Watermark pop into my head now: "Who am I, that You would love me so gently? Who am I, that You would recognize my name? Lord, who am I, that You would speak to me so softly? Conversation with the Love most high... Who am I?"
I wrote in the cover letter of my job application to Evergreen that one thing I wanted to learn more about through working there, was humility. Clearly that is a journey that will stretch for far longer than a summer.

East meets West.

"There is something about the egoism of this particular part of the world that has everything to do with the cross and how that all manifests itself out. I think there is a reason they're not obsessed with the cross that much on the Eastern side of the planet, because they have more of a group consciousness. And when you have a solo consciousness, like a lot of Westerners do, it is really about being on the cross. You're the one putting yourself up there. And I think the whole point is to try to figure out how to get off the f---ing cross."
- Billy Corgan

In my life I often feel like I'm standing at a crossroads where independent Western culture meets traditional, interdependent Chinese values. I just found it interesting that Billy Corgan mentioned the way culture influences spirituality, which I hadn't really stopped to think about before. Being raised in the West, in Canada, in Toronto - where multiculturalism is freely celebrated - I think my values encompass a decent and dynamic balance of capitalism and socialism. When it comes to my faith though, I think I really do have a 'solo consciousness'. I get fixated on blemishes and guilt in my past; I try to discern my own spiritual gifts so I can serve most effectively; I read books and do devotions to establish my own position on issues that I think matter. Somewhere along the way, the importance of church and community diminished. I do think that going to church and having a network of support are valuable, but again, mostly for my own benefit: I go to church to have my mind broadened with others' opinions and knowledge, and I seek fellowship for companionship and encouragement.
The story of Achan is one that has always stuck with me, perhaps because I wrestle with the idea of fairness, that everyone should suffer for the wrongdoing of one person. Back in Old Testament times, if one person messed up, the whole tribe or even the whole nation would face something terrible - loss in a war, natural disaster, famine, or the like. It emphasizes a sort of unity within a family or group that is almost unfathomable by today's standards.
Today's philosophy states "Live, and let live". We each do what we think is right, and leave each other alone for fear of seeming judgmental or hypocritical. This idea is brought out all too clearly in reading The God Factor - every interviewee has their own concept of spirituality, sometimes even choosing parts of different faiths and religions to create a sort of 'fusion faith'. Everybody claims there's no absolute anymore. It seems that people do realize their own corruption, and are just trying to cling to whatever bits of faith they can, to be at peace with themselves - or, to put it in Corgan's words, to figure out how to get off the cross.
If we were to switch to a 'group consciousness' mindset, what would that look like? My guess is, edifying and rebuking one another in love - and in doing so, realizing that there are some absolutes in life - and making the world a better place. There's been a tremendous shift towards the latter in recent years especially with lots of public icons taking on philanthropy as a hobby, which is fantastic, and which I've had the privilege of dabbling in. I guess I just need to be more conscious of being more of a giver than a taker, both spiritually and otherwise.

Everybody's got a story.

Now who can read the mind of the red-headed girl next door, or the taxi driver who just dropped you off, or the classmate that you ignore? Don't assume everything on the surface is what you see, 'cause that classmate just lost her mother, and that taxi-driver's got a Ph.D. I'm so tired of the fear that weighs us down with wrong assumptions of broken hearts and natural function. [You] See my eyes, [but] don't see what I see; [you could] touch my tongue, [but you] don't know what tastes good to me. It's the human condition that keeps us apart. Everybody's got a story that could break your heart.
- Amanda Marshall, Everybody's Got A Story

I love Amanda Marshall, most immediately for her soulful voice, but also for her esoteric lyrics and pouffy hair. Everybody's Got A Story is one of my favourite songs because when I think I've got everything and everybody figured out, it brings me back to the place of realizing how little we all as humans are able to comprehend about one another.
One thing I admire greatly about the youth I've met at Evergreen is their openness and honesty. They have nothing to hide, so they easily (and sometimes too gladly) share the intimate details and goings-on in their lives. They'll tell you exactly how they ended up in the shelter system, or what they think and feel about so-and-so, and so forth.
Amongst the rest of society, emotion just seems so muted in comparison. Less drama is probably a good thing, but there's also a diminution of passion. There's a lot of pussyfooting around, trying not to say something politically incorrect, or offend anybody. It becomes difficult for people to open themselves up to one another or say what they really think or feel.
When I finally have a breakthrough moment over taboo or complacency, I relish the feeling of learning something intimate and new about my friends, and the feeling of added strength to the foundation of relationships. It makes me marvel at what a loving God we have, who already knows all the intimate details of each of our lives, and and still tries hard to get us to open up to Him.

* * *

Over the weekend I started reading a book called The God Factor. It's a collection of interviews between the author, a religion journalist named Cathleen Falsani, and a celebrity or public figureheads on the topic of spirituality and how it affects their lives/work/art. In the media, many causes like to use celebrities as their poster-people and advocates, religion being no exception. So Falsani gets to the root of these people's beliefs, and gets beyond the labels of what faith they claim to follow. I've so far finished three chapters: interviews with Bono, who grew up in the Church of Ireland and is awed by the fact that the "force of love and logic behind the universe... would choose to describe itself as a baby born in sh*t and straw and poverty"; Hugh Hefner, who describes himself as "a pretty moral guy" and claims that the meaning of life and highest moral value is love; and Sandra Bernhard, a devout follower of Kabbalah who reportedly introduced Madonna to the mystical branch of Judaism.
So far, so good. It's interesting to find out more about people's perspectives on spirituality, especially for those who help to shape or define culture during their lives. It's not a book from which to learn values or theology, but it's a good prompt to get yourself thinking about what you do believe, and a way to gain insight into today's varied schools of thought. Especially if one has grown up in the Church, it is hard to understand how others who didn't, view spirituality and religion.

sooo sad :(

I had lunch and went shopping with Monica and Bobo today, since we all didn't have to work. We ended up in the huge Winners at Bay & Bloor, just poking around until they had to take off for a work barbecue. I was digging through the shoes, and I usually end up just trying on most shoes that I see, even if they don't look extremely appealing at first glance. One pair that I tried today was a faux animal print flat - white, with small black leopard-esque spots, and with a ribbon tied into a bow. The right shoe was significantly more scuffed up than the left, the spots looked more brown than black. I thought it looked a little funny, but seeing as they were only $14, I thought that I might take a chance on them because they were cute, and they might end up equally scuffed in the end anyway. Upon closer inspection though, the price turned out to be $74.00, not $14.00!! I hate when that happens.

how quickly tables turn.

It's incredible how quickly things can go from great to crappy. Everything will be going great one minute, and then something or somebody will just bring it all toppling down, the next. That happened three times today. What. A. Day.
First, summer team all went to Esther's house for breakfast this morning; we had fruit, bacon, and blueberry pancakes while sitting in a backyard teeming with overgrown Jumanji-esque vegetation. That afternoon when we went to work, L was back from vacation, but there's a new nurse who's really sweet and nice to help out. L did her pill counting routine in a little room by herself for most of the day, which was fine by me. It wasn't until about 4:20, when people are flooding in right before closing time, that she decided to appear in the waiting room and be entirely unhelpful. Instead of helping the youth be seen or get what they need so they can get out of here and we can close, she decided to lecture them about coming earlier because we're going to close. She also stopped me in the middle of what I was doing, to ask what I was doing. So after I spent about a minute explaining it to her, she just... raised her eyebrows, and made some random grunting noise of acknowledgment. That's real productive... I love work, but I just can't stand her.
After work I was able to calm myself down a bit because I was hanging out with Jo and Chris. We ate chicken, potato wedges and salad, and planned to go out and buy 300. On our way out the door, we also decided to go get some ice cream! When we got to Dominion's, we found that a lot of the ice cream was on sale, so we bought three tubs and headed back, excited to watch the movie and pig out. Not long after we scooped ice cream and popped the movie in, though, a strange beeping noise started in Jo's apartment. We ignored it for as long as we could, but we eventually decided that it was the fire alarm and we should evacuate. Joanna lives on the 40th floor. We got all the way down to the 14th floor, extremely dizzy, when the fire alarm stopped. So we decided to walk back up rather than wait for the elevators to start working again. Well.. when we got back up, all sweaty and exhausted, we found that the stairwell door was locked and we couldn't get back up to her floor! We had to sit on the 39th floor and wait until the elevator started up again. My legs were all jelly-ish... I couldn't wait for another bowl of ice-cream to replace the calories I'd just burned.
We ended up watching the movie, and I left around 10:30 to go back home. I had felt a little bad about not coming home for supper tonight because I came home late for the past couple of nights, and hadn't spent a lot of time with my family lately. When I got back, my sister told me that my parents had gone to the airport to pick up my grandma. So I went to check my email and what not... Soon afterwards, my parents came back, and then almost immediately my mom was telling my sister and myself to wash the dishes and hang up the laundry. I took a bunch of towels from the machine and hung them in the basement, and on my way back upstairs, I stopped to check my messages. Almost immediately, my sister starts yelling at me for not helping. I snapped something back about that I'd already done some of the laundry, and she started nitpicking about how much I'd done, or that I didn't help do the dishes... anyway, it was just so retarded because there will be other times where I do the dishes or whatever by myself. It's such a stupid thing to fight about, because there'll always be times that either one of us has to do more or less of the chores. All of a sudden I wasn't even glad to be home anymore.
Anyway, that was my rollercoaster of a day. Tomorrow I have the day off, so I hope it's less dramatic.

Time flies.

I can't believe it's already coming on August. This summer has just slid through my fingers. I feel like it's been full of valuable experiences and memorable lessons, and there aren't many feelings that are better than that of time well spent. Hopefully I'll be able to continue to spend my time meaningfully. Here's a list of things I want to accomplish, or habits to build up, by April 2010.