Home - Away from Home

I'm traveling again for the first me since moving to DC. I'm actually blogging from Mud House in Charlottesville. Feels a bit like having coffee with an old friend; lots to catch up on after so much change. I can't help but think of what was going on in my life the last time I was here, the things I was upset and excited about, and how dramatically it has all changed in such a short time.

It's been great seeing c-ville people again, getting up to date on the goings-on in the lives of these people who are so important to me. But I have been caught off guard by how quickly DC has become my home, and how strongly I'm resenting having to leave it.

I think anyone who knows me would agree that I've always been something of a nest builder. I like my space, my rhythms, my sense of place. I enjoy travel and adventure, but it always reaches a certain point of frustration and discomfort that only the trip back home can cure. Usually it takes me a few weeks to reach that point. This time it's barely taken a few days.

The thing is, it's been so long since I had a home space that I really felt ownership of that I don't think I even realized how much I missed having one at all. As we made plans to head to Williamsburg and then back to Three Hills before Christmas I definitely wasn't thinking that being gone would be emotionally difficult. Surprise, surprise.

I'm not complaining, though, just remarking on the unexpected internal changes that have accompanied the external ones. I have a home space I really want to be in, a city I really enjoy exploring, and a widening pool of amazing and unexpected relationships with some truly awesome people that I look forward to deepening. None of that was true two months ago, and now that it is, the last thing I want to do is leave, even for a short work week back in the mountains.

I guess sometimes you have to leave home for a bit to get a sense of how greatful you are to wake up there.

Working Towards the Holidays

We are well and truly in the thick of the holiday season now, and I'm reminded more than ever how little my life conforms to a common schedule.

I've been working harder and better than ever over the past few days. It feels as if the Thanksgiving holiday was a giant slingshot of focus and energy that has launched me on the warpath towards Christmas.

Previously in life I always looked forward to the holidays as a time to relax, to take whole days without working and feel just fine about it. I would usually come home with project that I "really need to work on", and I'd go back to school with them too. I think maybe that was part of the fun.

But this Thanksgiving was very different. As fun as it was, the days off quickly started feeling like an imposition rather than a blessing. I enjoyed them tremendously, but by about monday I was VERY eager to just get back to work, and I have been every since. I feel the approach of Christmas as a sort of ticking clock, counting down to the days when I'll need to set work aside again.

In reading this, I realize that it might sound like cause for concern. Don't worry, I'm not becoming a crazy work-a-holic that can't enjoy holiday times with friends and family. I'm just not looking for as many excuses to avoid working as I used to, which is a very good thing. I'm waking up in the morning excited about what I'm going to tackle during the day. It feels like a very good place to be, and I'm deeply anticipating the satisfaction of having some completed projects to show for it in a month or two.

Keep an ear to ground folks, I've got some things a-brewing :)

Halloween in the City

Halloween has never been a very big holiday for me. Even as a kid I never had a particularly strong desire to join in. I'm not really the "fill my pillowcase with candy and eat it by tomorrow" type, so a huge part of the allure goes out right there.

But! This year I decided to actually go out for Halloween. Found a great cabbie hat to complete my Newsie costume, and a few of us ventured into the city. I really didn't know what to expect. I'd heard some wild stories of craziness, reveling, crowded streets and scandalous costumes. As we stepped out of the metro station in U st. however we found only the mildest versions of those things (although there were definitely some scandalous costumes running around. Does it count as a costume if it does not incorporate fabric?).

We picked a direction and wandered towards it, and fairly quickly Dave's musically attuned ears picked up the sound of live music. We stepped into a bar/restaurant with a live trio playing jazz, R&B, and jazzy covers of 90s pop classics, and we ended up staying for the whole evening. The friends were wonderful, the music was awesome, and I had a heaping plate of Spaghetti and a beer.

Now that is my kind of Halloween.

NaNoWriMo

Holy crap I must be insane, but I'm actually going to do this: www.nanowrimo.com

30 days + 50k words + maintaining work and social life = very little sleep in November, I imagine. But that's great, cause I've never really liked November much anyway, so this gives me something to look forward to.

Thankfully, I already have a book well outlined. I guess it would technically be cheating to count the handful of pages I've already written, but I can just compensate for that by not adding those words to my word count total or something.

So, T-2 days and counting! I'll start stretching out my fingers...

I will

I've recently been re-discovering my love of declarative sentences.

"I might", "I may", "I want to", and "perhaps" have become increasingly unsatisfying of late. I've been working to replace with a simple "I will" or "I won't".

I will push myself into new and uncomfortable settings, even when I'm feeling tired.

I will blog more often, with less self-editing.

I will be clear about what I need to do for work, and move projects forward strategically each day.

I won't obsess about what I can't control.

I won't allow momentary failures or disappointments to scare me away from trying again tomorrow.

Even simpler things like saying "I will take some time off now" or, "I will follow up with that person" have been an incredible relief. Try it! It can become rather addicting.

It's encouraging to feel like I can choose and then act accordingly, no matter what circumstances are being thrown at me. It's also a bit terrifying at times. I feel exposed and defenseless when I commit to an idea, passion, or pursuit. I don't always meet my commitments, at which point I have to say "I won't wallow in guilt. I will re-adjust and try again."

I guess I'd rather be terrified and fulfilled than comfortable and constrained.

Cumulus

Has anyone listened to Imogen's single Cumulus? It's a lovely instrumental track, and even without words it is the perfect summary of my life these days.

It has a bit of a questing, searching undertone, but it's very calm. It has drive, but not the kind you see right away. It's beautiful, but not the standard kind of beautiful. It's very complex, but it's built out of simple things. And it seems to go on forever.

That's all I really feel like saying at the moment. Maybe starting to post again will draw more out of me soon.

Reading, or the Lack Thereof

A very good friend recently drew my attention to the fact that I haven't been reading as much over the year as I had in the past. It was one of those "true facts" that take you a little by surprise when you notice them, and I started wondering why that is.

A huge reason that I've identified so far is that I get more deeply and easily annoyed by poor writing now that I understand the craft better. I've realized that it's probably good to be a little selective about what you develop expertise in. I'm not arguing that "ignorance is bliss", so much as realizing that there is value in being able to appreciate something on a very simple level. Once you begin to really learn all of its ins, outs, ups, downs, dos, don'ts, and details, it can be difficult to just sit back and enjoy it without analyzing and critiquing.

On the flip side, though, I've noticed that I now appreciate truly excellent writing so much more than I used to. Recently I was reading one of the early chapters of a new book. The author introduced an important new character with one sentence: "Charley Feavy was a short man with dark hair and perpetually dirty fingernails." That one sentence gave me such a clear, visceral picture of this character and his personality/behavior/role in the story that it really was all he needed to say. I spent 5 or 10 minutes just reading it and appreciating all of the craft and editing that most likely went into writing that one perfect description. Those small moments of deeper awareness and appreciation more than balance out all of the crap books that I put down and never pick up again these days.

Thunderstorms

There has been a thunderstorm churning outside since yesterday afternoon. Lightning keeps sparking in the distance, and you can feel the energy on your skin. Seems like the weather outside has caught up with my own atmosphere of late.

Everything has felt pressed together and rumbly lately, as if something is building, and all I can do is watch it build and wonder what is going on.

I can't exactly explain what I'm talking about, it's really just a feeling, but it's gotten intense enough to become distracting at times. Most of my life, from business to where I'm living to relationships and everything in between, is all potential energy just hanging around in the air, and it's been making me nervous.

I think I'm due for my own thunderstorm sometime soon, and I have no idea what my landscape will look like when the wind sets everything back down again.

It's been way too long, but I've been feeling blog-stuck, so here's a short little piece I wrote recently, just to get things moving again:


Fire is the Song. It is the leaping flower. It is rage, love, and hope, all of the things that smolder in the heart and fill the eyes. It is the wild, calling from the top of a mountain, the first flash of the dawn star. Sing, and the fire will come.

Water is the Dream. It is the sweeping fields awaiting harvest, the taste of the future on your tongue. It is the now and never-to-be. It is the un-graspable. It is deep breathing in a dark room. It is the midnight silver on the needles of fir trees. Dream, and the water will come.

Earth is the Memory. It is the thick-bowled oak tree. It is the endless turning, the never-changing, the deep rooted. It is the stillness before a question. It is the cool clay banks that guide the river. It is the all-swallowing roar of sudden anger, the grinding of boulders, the crashing of ancient trees. Remember, and the earth will come.

Wind is the Dance. It is the soaring, swift-winged kite hawk. It is the hidden whisper and the sudden shout, the brilliant flash of lightning that strikes and is gone. It is the great-pushing, the up-lifting, the rain-bringing. It is the quick smile and the swift embrace. Dance, and the wind will come.

Things I am Learning about Living in the City

1. Everything in Alexandria closes at 10pm on Mondays. If you should happen to have run out of cream for your coffee, or want some milk for cereal, you are shit-outta-luck, fella. I know it may seem like you should be able to just walk down the street and buy some, now that you live in a city, but this is a vicious lie. Even if you walk 10 blocks to the end of King street, you will not find a single restaurant, bar, or deli that is still open, so don't even bother.

2. Simply being in the city makes you more productive. You will find yourself working at odd hours, when just a week ago you had trouble getting yourself to work for an hour. You will spontaneously think of great ideas, and then actually sit down to work on them instead of putting them off for weeks until you can't really remember what you got so excited about in the first place.

3. Just being in the city will not automatically make all of your dreams come true. You will still feel lonely sometimes. You will occasionally wonder when life will move forward. But unlike living in the country, where you have endless silent hours to try not too think such thoughts, in the city you will quickly find something else interesting to capture your attention. Feelings of loneliness, frustration, or confusion will move from close to overwhelming to merely visible in the background. After all, there's that new coffee shop you haven't visited yet, and you really wanted to go spend a few hours in the bookstore this afternoon...

DC bound

So much has happened in the past few weeks that I've been putting off blogging about it because I haven't really known where to begin. But I know better than that :). So, I'm going to break things down a bit and get caught up in smaller updates rather than one epic one. Today's is about moving to DC:

As some of you know, but some of you may not, I moved into a townhouse in Alexandria last week, and I've been loving every minute of city life so far. The owners of the house are friends of my parents, who spend every summer with their extended family in France, so we're house sitting for them until some time in August. Which works out to several months of rent free living in DC :).

The area itself is really cool. We're about 3 blocks from King Street, the main drag in this area, which is full of great restaurants, little shops, a book store and movie theater, etc. After a long walk with mom and dad a few days ago I discovered that there's even a cool kind of harbor/park area on the Chesapeake at the end of King Street. I'm sure I'll be spending more time there over the summer once the weather warms up.

I've never really lived in a walking district like this before, but it turns out that I absolutely love it. I've started going out for strolls to get coffee and wander around, just to be on the sidewalk with other people. I've also started taking my laptop to work at the Cosi down the street instead of staying in the house like I usually do. It's amazing how hungry I've been for this kind of thing.

I haven't really begun connecting with people yet, or exploring some of the activities that I want to do while I'm here. I'm treating it like a hot tub, easing my way in and enjoying every minute of it. It will be interesting to see how things change once I'm spending more time with friends here.

So that's my DC snippet. Here are some King street pics I took to give you a feel for the area. I'll write about some other recent life developments soon.

Pop Quiz!

I wanted to shake things up a bit, so let's play a game :). I had an idea to create an internet scavenger hunt, but that's going to take a bit more work, so while I'm getting that ready let's go with a little history trivia in reverse. I'll put up a list of years or dates, and in the comments field you post any significant events that occurred in that year ("significant" being entirely up to your own interpretation). I'll try to cover a range of different time periods and kinds of events. Feel free to look around online if you want to take the easy way out ;):

1. 356 BC

2. December 7th, 1941

3. 1969

4. 1215 AD

5. 1862

Ok, for the second half I'm changing it up. Here are some riddles:

1. What eats to live but never drinks?

2. What do the poor have that the rich crave and God fears?

3. A man lies dead in the middle of the desert next to an un-opened package. That contents of the package explain his death. What is in the package?

4. A man was to be sentenced, and the judge told him, "You may make a statement. If it is true, I'll sentence you to four years in prison. If it is false, I'll sentence you to six years in prison." After the man made his statement, the judge decided to let him go free. What did the man say?

5. What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?

6. What can travel around the world while staying in a corner?

One More

Here's another. I think this one is my favorite so far:

Wide Ruled

Wide ruled, the Cormorants flew
Bearing scepters, the Kings of birds
Sweaty feathered, the prophets of the Sun
They scream of doom and the birth of the new
They stir the tides of oceans with their beaten wings

In the wind and the waves I find purpose, mindless and terrifying. The rush of unstoppable will grants no quarter to the sons of earth. I long for a softer place, a haven, a fortress of warm breath and twilight curls. I know only long hours and fruitless searching, salt lips and daydreams. I am the watcher, clothed in reeds. I have no nest, no kin but the silent clouds. I have heard the hidden music of stars, but cannot share their secrets.

A wise man once said, the highest crags bear the loneliest snowfalls. What hope is there then for me, without even the comfort of stone deep-rooted and unyielding? Yet even now I know a strange companionship. I trust the wind, and laugh with stately Cormorants above the waves.

Freewriting Again

It's been awhile since I've posted anything new. I'm getting ready to move to DC in two weeks, and I spent the last one in Charlottesville with some of my favorite people (both of which deserve their own posts at some point soon). In the meantime I thought I'd post some of the freewrites I've been doing recently. It's been really encouraging and just plain fun to be writing again for the sheer enjoyment of it, rather than to try and make progress on some part of my novel. I've noticed that my writing has been getting a bit more abstracted lately, which I like. Perhaps it has something to do with my own growth in this last season? Anyway here's one of my favorites:

There are no hands

There are no hands, only empty spaces

There are no feet, only bruised words

There are no swords, no plowshares, only twisted metal ripped from the earth

There are no children, only the endless becoming of more

For we slake our thirst in unwonted fountains, and feed our hunger with stolen gumdrops. We are the movers and shakers.

Like the vagabond, ragweed, tumbledown thistles, we leave no trace of our comings or goings. We will not be chained, only held with promises. We kill with our music and bless with our silent stares. We take no bread. Only the fruit of the earth sustains us, and it is infinite.

For lo, there will come a time, a silent moment, when all that was will be again, and all that will be shall endure. The earth will surrender to our pantomime, and in our sticky fingers we will hold the seeds of ages like pearls before swine. We will be the endless grains of sand, and the sun will smell our dreams like fragrant dewdrops.

All that you know is changing.

All that you hoped for has come.

Progress Once More

I'm writing again! Apparently Tuesday's coaching session really helped un-stick me, as I am now the proud author of a new 6 page scene. The exercise we came up with during the session was having me come up with 10 alternate ways to write the beginning of the story, as varied and different from each other as possible. It really helped me relax, and let go of the feeling of permanence that was keeping me from making much progress. I'm really enjoying the process of just writing again. Funny what an apparently minor internal shift can accomplish isn't it?

And as an added bonus, I realized about halfway through it that this scene (which I had originally envisioned as an alternate begin that started with the antagonist of the story instead of the main character) is actually a really solid scene that I like a lot, and it fits really well at a somewhat later point in the story. It's extra fun when something I had just been thinking of as a good exercise morphs into something really cool and useful.

Also, I ate the sandwich in the picture for lunch. It was delicious.

I'm Afraid

Yesterday I had my first Arts Coaching appointment with Adam Fleming. I've been feeling bogged down, paralyzed, and all around stuck in my writing project lately (I'm working on a fantasy fiction novel). It's been incredibly hard to make even tiny bits of progress. I thought it might have something to do with my writing patterns or something like that, but after some reflection with Adam I realized that my constraint isn't coming from patterns, it's coming from simple, deeply rooted fear.

I guess I just hadn't really faced into the risk that comes with creating something that really comes from your heart with the intent of sharing it. It's freakin' scary. What if it sucks? Or, even worse, what if it's just kind of generically "good" but never really touches anyone in a real or lasting way.

These kinds of fears are very very common, I know. I guess I'm just encountering mine more vividly as I've committed myself to this project in a more intentional way. It was really good to name them, though, and to plan some short term action steps to begin moving forward again in spite of them. I'm actually having fun with this again :).

I'll let ya'll know what comes out of this week, I'll have some new (fairly different) things to read soon.

J

Cooking

I really like to cook.

Last night I cooked my first "home by myself for 5 weeks" meal. Up until now I've mostly been eating leftovers and frozen things (and lots of cereal). I made spaghetti, which looked like this at one point:
The funny thing is, I've intended to cook something every night for the last week, but I always ended up pulling something out of the freezer, even though I knew whatever I made would taste better. But I realized as I was cutting vegetables that I've been more than just lazy. I realized that I've actually been avoiding it.

Cooking by yourself is lonely.

My ex-girlfriend Jackie and I used to cook together a lot. We'd try new recipes and experiment with them, it was always fun.

I think it's the little, everyday things that can feel the most powerfully lonely. For the first time in my life I can truthfully say that I am settled and content with the circumstances of my life, singleness, wilderness, and all. But I really wish I had someone to cook with last night.

Easy or Meaningful?

Do you want your life to be easy, or do you want it to be meaningful?

As I was eating breakfast this morning it struck me that this is one of the most fundamentally important questions I think any person can answer. I think a lot of people go through life trying to avoid pain, trying to be happy, and trying to stay out of trouble. It makes sense when you put it that way, right? What's wrong with that?

I don't think there's anything wrong with those things in and of themselves, but I think that they suck as life goals. The problem is, you can chase happiness for years, try your hardest to avoid pain, but you won't be able to, and in the meantime you'll have missed out on a lot of wonderful things at best. At worst, you'll have made some very bad mistakes.

Anything worthwhile is difficult. Relationships take work. Big dreams require risk, and sometimes risk leads to "failure". But the funny thing is, if you determine once and for all that you're ok with pain, disappointment, and difficulty in pursuit of the meaningful and beautiful, you start to realize that the difficulties that go along with it aren't really so terrible. It's like taking a shot, it hurts a lot less of you accept that it's going to hurt and relax about it.

Some conversations are hard to have. Some decisions are hard to make. I'm not trying to make light of that. But hiding from those things, or trying to distract yourself from them, won't magically make them fade away. And while you're trying your hardest to avoid them, you hurt people, and you hurt yourself.

I want my life to mean something, and I'm willing to take some bruises if that's what it costs. What about you?

Hero Time

"Gaming in whatever form is my chance to right some wrongs about reality. I think I should have been a gruff ex-cop who smokes too much and wears a bandage over his knuckles, or a bestial bandit king who sacrifices himself to save the last druid, or an eccentric spymaster with too many secrets, or a terse Paladin who can’t admit he is painfully lonely or many more. What other pastime allows you this?

It was a revelation when I realized all these characters over the years were just facets of me wanting a little hero time. It makes me wonder how some people can stand to live their whole lives without being - just once- the guy (or the girl! justin) who saves the day."

Jay Watamaniuk

I read this quote in a developer blog recently and loved it. I feel like he managed to say something I've tried to get at before but never expressed quite this clearly. Stories are more than just entertainment. They are healthy. They feed us and keep us sane. They remind us that life will always be bigger than whatever we are experiencing in the moment. And while games offer the most obvious participation in a story, anyone who's ever stayed up till 3am reading a novel knows that you don't have to play a story to become a part of it.

I'm more aware of this than ever these days. I think that stories, my own and others, are keeping me sane these days, and I'm grateful.

Under the Snow

I've wanted to blog for a while, but I haven't had anything I really wanted to say. Life has been slow and quiet, which I've learned to appreciate more than I ever thought possible. I'd say the most significant and interesting thing I've observed in myself lately is that I'm not angry about the pace of my life anymore. I'm not grumbling about it, although I'm still fairly confused. It's funny when God works change in us, sometimes looking back it can seem like almost nothing has changed, aside from the disposition of our hearts...which is a wonderful reminder of what He really cares about.

But what has finally prompted me to start blogging again is the wonderful snowstorm we had here two days ago. I've found myself staring out of the window for long stretches of time lately, until the sunlight reflecting back into my eyes leaves me blurry eyed and happy. Here in the mountains we don't get gray snows, the clouds always lift and for days on end you can watch the slow accumulation of animal tracks across the lawn, and watch icicles melt one drop at a time.

Nature restores me. The night of the storm I set my alarm for 7:15am so I would be the first one to go out in the new snow (that was about as early as I could manage without being grumpy). It was frigid, my hands went completely numb from holding a camera into the wind, but I couldn't help it. Everything looks different under the snow.

Then I realized as I was walking that my backyard had become a good parallel for my life these days. It's quiet, and beautiful, and really very fragile. In the middle of winter it can seem endless and you want it to be spring so badly you can hardly breath. But snow melts quickly, and there will never be another snowfall like this one again, ever.



Right now, my life is like this, and I've fallen in love with it:

Amplifiers

My crazy week of feverish preparation for the Prayer Breakfast ended a few days ago, and after two lovely days of relaxing (and catching up on sleep) I'm feeling human again. The event came off quite well I think (at least the parts I was responsible for didn't have any issues) and it was incredibly rewarding and meaningful for me to be able to be a part of helping it happen. I might follow up with an entry or two on the event itself, but the biggest "take away" of the weekend had more to do with the people I spent time with. Specifically, I've been struck lately by how incredibly important the people we surround ourselves with are to what we ultimately make of our lives.

In the past when I've heard people talk about the importance of who you surround yourself with, they've usually focused on avoiding "the wrong people". But now more than ever I'm convinced that its far more important to focus on actively surrounding yourself with people who redefine "normal" for you in positive ways.

I think the people around us act like amplifiers. They pick up and magnify whatever spiritual frequency they're attuned to themselves. If it's negative, they amplify the negative voices/energy/whatever-you-want-to-call it that is being directed at you already, making it louder and more substantial. It gets harder to believe in yourself, in your dreams, in the possibility of progress. It gets harder to make good choices. I used to think that the important thing was to make sure you weren't surrounding yourself with those kinds of amplifiers.

But what I've learned from a long year and more of isolation and growth is that it isn't enough to not have negative reinforcement in our lives. We absolutely need people around us who stretch and challenge us if we want to reach for something more in our lives. This past weekend has shown me just how much I've quietly allowed myself to relax my expectations for my life, to become focused on the achievable at the expense of the truly worthwhile, and to allow myself to be intimidated out of some bigger dreams that scare me just as much as they excite me.

It's so incredibly easy to fall prey to the all too reasonable voices of doubt, caution, cynicism, and fear when we try to stand against them on our own. I think we need to see present examples of other people accomplishing large things, so that in the moments when we doubt ourselves we can draw some inspiration from what they're doing. I think we need to see other people succeeding at impossible things so that when we're tempted to settle for "good enough", we can push ourselves to believe for more.

So let me say "thank you" to all those who have amplified the voice of God in my life lately, whether you were aware of it or not (and most of you aren't). I hope I return the favor to you along the way.

If you've got Tedrepil's, I've got Rewansur's

Things have been too serious lately, and no one has posted any comments. So today is crazy day.

The last two security challenge words I had to type in to comment on other blogs have been "rewansur" and "tedrepil". So, your mission (I don't really care if you choose to accept it or not, damn it), is to respond to this post with your suggested definition for these two words, which I've decided to adopt. I'll pick my favorite and start using it obsessively, so you really want to get in on this.

Ok, go!

Also, this was me today:

Books Worth Dying For

Is a book worth dying for?

Perhaps a better question might be, “what makes a book worth dying for?”, since a long list of men and women throughout history, both famous and obscure, have died for a book. Looked at in a certain light, it seems profoundly irrational, or at least profoundly un-Darwinian, which is what makes it such an interesting question for me. For a long time I've been fascinated by certain uniquely human passions that are as difficult to describe scientifically as they are undeniably compelling. What is it about music that stirs us so powerfully? Why do we inhabit imagined worlds in stories and film so eagerly? And, getting back to my initial question, what makes a book worth dying for?

It seems to me there are two things that make people willing to die defending or disseminating a book: either the ideas it contains or a commitment to the universal right of other people to read it. The first is more obvious. People have often proven willing to die in defense of a compelling idea that gives their life meaning. But if you boil it down the book itself is really just the vessel for the idea. In most cases any vessel would suffice, as long as it preserved and spread that idea efficiently. The second is more elusive. Some few individuals who have died in defense of books seems to have been doing so more in defense of what access to that book represents than what it specifically says. Namely, freedom. Not just the freedom of the author to say what he or she will, but the freedom of every person to bring themselves face to face with challenging ideas on their own terms, to wrestle with them, to accept or reject them as they will, regardless of whether or not that process is convenient to those in power.

Taking it out of the philosophical realm:

I believe that 12 year olds in Quattar should be able to read cartoons and comics from America.

I believe high school students in Boise, Idaho should be able to read blogs and diaries written by their peers in Syria.

I believe that citizens in Myanmar should be able to read CNN and BBC, even if those networks are reporting unfavorably on the abuses their government keeps inflicting on them.

I believe that farmers in the Chinese heartland should be free to carry on an email dialog with their counterparts in France without fear of the government punishing them for the tone of their questions.

On October 6th in 1536, William Tyndale was publicly strangled and then burned at the stake for insisting that every man, woman, and child in England had the right to read the bible in their own language, even as King Henry VIII was fighting viciously to consolidate religious control in his own hands. In high school I was taught that Tyndale was a martyr because he died in defense of the bible. That is certainly true. But I believe Tyndale would deserve that title if he had died defending the people's right to read a one act comedic play. When it becomes a question of the freedom of information and expression, either every book becomes one worth dying for, or none of them are.

The Next 100 Days

President To Face Down Monster Attack, Own Demons In Action-Packed Schedule

I think it's really cool of the White House to finally give us a more detailed look at what President Obama will be tackling within the next 100 days. It's comforting to know that when disaster strikes, he'll be ready.

Vision

It's been a very full and intense week. I've grown a lot.

It's always strange to look back and realize how inherently selfish one's perspective had become. I've been realizing over the past few days that most of my sense of disorientation, lack of purpose, even panic lately is due largely to the fact that my vision had imperceptibly narrowed. Everything I was focusing on related to my own life. It was all important and significant stuff (it always is), but it wasn't enough.

I'm dreaming bigger dreams at the moment. I've been pushing out a frighteningly big idea for a non-profit digital publishing enterprise. I don't want to talk specifics yet because it's such a fresh idea, but it's single-handedly pulled me out of my recent funk.

I'm excited and nervous like I haven't been in months. I'm feeling a compelling sense of urgency again, like every minute of each day is important and meaningful. I'm scared again, in a good way. I've decided that life isn't worth living unless you're pursuing something so big that it scares you a little, but so important that the thought of not pursuing it is much more frightening.

So - once again - here's to the future, whatever it holds. At the very least it should be a very wild ride =).

Lonely

I thought I understood loneliness.

I thought it was the feeling of being by yourself when the people you wish you were with are miles away. I thought loneliness was the overwhelming awareness of distance, but it isn't.

Loneliness is the overwhelming awareness of the irrelevance of distance. It isn't missing someone, it's not having anyone to miss.

Even if I could go anywhere on earth right this minute, I would still be lonely. That's a strange thought. It isn't that I don't have great friends, I have some of the best friends in the world. But sometimes being with people makes this feeling worse, and I don't know why...

Sorry, I know this is melodramatic, especially since I haven't posted in a few weeks. My holidays were great. Now I'm coming home to a home that suddenly doesn't feel like one anymore. Everything has shifted, and I have nothing tangible to center myself on. I've felt this way since last monday when I got back to Virginia. Most of the time this feeling of disorientation feels almost fun. I can appreciate the freedom, the closeness with God as we drift together in this. But sometimes it just feels scary and endless, like right now. And when it does, I think of calling someone, just to hear their voice. But there isn't anyone to call.

That is lonely.