Connecting the Dots: Uganda Piggery Project
There are few times in life when a number of different, unrelated circumstances align themselves. And in those moments in my life, I feel so connected to God, to others, to myself, that I can’t help but smile and think that maybe all of my quirks and passions can be the sign of something much greater than myself.
I’ve always been fascinated by astronomy – the way some ancient thinkers were able to connect a bunch of separate points in the sky and create a picture out of them. Looking at a group of stars, I wouldn’t imagine that they look a little like a ladle, but because someone did, the Big Dipper is easily the most recognizable constellation in the night sky.
One of my favorite things to do as a kid was to flip through a coloring book and find the pages with the Connect-the-Dot puzzles; the ones that were easy to solve without drawing a single line bored me, but the ones that only made sense after you connected a few dots were the best ones.
I’m learning that my life is a lot like one of those Connect-the-Dot puzzles that are hard to solve.
And the best ones are still when you can’t make out the picture at first.
******
My grandma left behind a company she started by turning the pork from pigs that she raised on her property’s pig farm to food products using her own family’s recipes. After my school career, being unable to find a job elsewhere, I settled on a position there, at my family’s company. Surprisingly, the job developed from one I simply had to do between looking for a different job to one I loved.
Working with pork runs in my blood, I guess.
Dot.
I was born into a Catholic family and raised as a Catholic. Due to some serious issues with my health, I began to question that line of faith (and faith in general) and left any idea of faith for a while. I strayed into agnosticism and atheism, but felt incomplete there. I loved (and still love) some of the tenets of Protestantism, and many of my Protestant friends are the closest friends I have and some of the holiest people I know. Protestantism, for me, served as a vital lesson and was a crucial step in my coming home to Catholicism. The Catholic church is my home and where I learned of God and where I find God to this day. It is my rock and, as much as I learn from and love others of different beliefs, it’ll remain my home.
Looking especially studious in my Catholic school garb and glasses.
Dot.
In 2005, as a sophomore in college, I stumbled into a movie showing for free on-campus that was new to me. It was called Invisible Children, and I had no idea it would affect my life and my way of thinking permanently. The documentary shows an unnoticed crisis happening in Uganda, wherein people face hardships and devastation daily. As a teenager centered in America, I didn’t concern myself with the rest of the world; this film put a crack in that dam. I bought the Invisible Children movie and talked about it constantly. (I definitely annoyed my friends.) I helped one of my friends to form the Invisible Children Lafayette Street Team, which scheduled screenings of the movie in my city, held art auctions and other fundraisers to raise money for Uganda, held an awareness-raising silent “white flag parade” which only explained ourselves to people asking why we were bedecked in white and marching silently downtown, and brought the biggest group to the New Orleans “Displace Me,” an awareness raising event for those displaced in Uganda. Invisible Children ignited a special passion in my heart for the people of Uganda, who symbolized to me how important it was to see the world as a global community, and not let empathy stop at national borders.
Me signing my name on “Laffy-Town,” the Lafayette group’s makeshift camp for our overnight stay at Displace Me.
…
Also as a sophomore, I formed a great friendship – one with Joseph, who was my only friend from the Catholic church on campus. After a while, he asked me to join him and the church on campus on a mission trip to a small town in southern Mexico. Since I couldn’t speak any Spanish and I required the full-time use of a wheelchair, I laughed off the idea. Joseph persisted and eventually I agreed. The mission trip during New Years of 2005 is one I won’t forget: mainly because of the witnessing of putting compassion into action, which was refreshing to me; but also because from that trip, I met a large group of people that hung around at the Catholic Student Center on campus. I began to be a recognized face around there, and that probably helped me to become Vice-President of the Leadership Team there, then president. The Catholic Church became less of an external object for me and I began to take part in its formation and its charity.
Believe it or not, girls aren’t the only reason to go on mission trips.
…
My friend Blake is a year or two older than me. He is also my godson. Blake and I met during college, and he eventually felt called to become a Catholic, and asked me to be his sponsor. We learned the night before his confirmation that since Blake was never baptized, his sponsor was to be his godparent as well. In more ways than one, I am the godfather. I first made Blake watch the Invisible Children movie, and he joined me in being a part of the Lafayette Street Team. After he graduated, he accepted an internship at the Invisible Children office. Blake invited me to San Diego and to go visit the IC office. I told him that I would go, but I probably wouldn’t have enough time to visit the office. That night I received a text message from a strange California number. Jason Russell, the star and creator of the IC documentary, asked me personally to stop by the office. So I did. We were able to hang out in his office and talk for an hour – about books, faith, and missionary activity throughout the world. When I left Blake to go to the airport, I realized that I’d gotten the experience of seeing my godson happy in one of the coolest cities in the US and the added bonus of meeting one of my personal heroes and being able to call him friend.
Unfortunately, this is the only picture I have of me and Blake – it’s a Lost party; he’s Locke and I’m a conniving Ben. I apologize for this picture.
…
Kony 2012 happened. Its insane viral spreading made the name “Invisible Children” famous (and infamous in some cases). The week after its launch, I witnessed how overloaded Jason seemed, even through our weekly text message dialogue. I got a few friends together and planned on sending Jason a package of encouraging letters and well wishes from a handful of IC supporters in my area. I was prepared to send the package on the following Monday, but Jason’s mental breakdown happened on that Friday. It was very public and very embarrassing. For a moment, I didn’t know what to think: this guy I had gotten to know was being smeared all over the country. My friend Blake gave me a call on Friday night, asking seriously, “What do we do now?” I think that was the point I decided on how I’d proceed; I said, not knowing what I’d say, “Nothing changed. We know who he is and what he stands for. He’s gone through a stressful situation and had a breakdown, but if I went through something similar, I hope that I have friends who would stand by me through it all.” I’m proud to say that I was an Invisible Children fan before hipster glasses and Taylor Swift went viral. And I’m humbled to be able to say that Jason is still a friend of mine.
My buddy Jason with me.
…
Joseph, my friend from college who first introduced me to the beauty of missionary activity, now serves as the director for his family’s nonprofit Catholic mission business, Family Missions Company. Through contributing to their social media promotion, I was able to befriend a guy who runs a Catholic youth ministry in Uganda named Moses. He has told me that his ministry is beginning a project to help the residents of his village work for legitimate income: they are seeking to start a pig farm to train and hire local villagers so that they can gain enough income for food, shelter, and medicines for their families.
Joseph, probably playing Solitaire or something at his new job.
…
Pig farming, Catholicism, missionary activity, and Uganda have all swirled together in my life to create something awesome. By connecting the dots out of these random points in my life, I’m starting to see a shape emerge. I think it may be a fingerprint of God. All I know is, I am blessed to be where I am, and honored to be a part of the Piggery Project in Uganda.
To check out the details of this project and donate, please click here.
An Epiphany: Dr. Horrible and Me
It’s important to gauge our lives objectively at times and remember where it is we’re heading. Then we might have to adjust our course a little bit. Or a lot, depending.
Somewhere along the way, the endgame of being both “loving” and “right” blurred together and had a bastard that seemed to be both, but was probably neither. And this hateful and wrong bastard became my idol – how could others not see things my way when it was so obviously plain to me?
In a surprisingly beautiful documentary I saw recently with the lambasting title Lord, Save Us From Your Followers, a simple line someone says in the film won’t stray far from my consciousness. “Jesus didn’t call us to be right; He called us to be loving.” The bastard and I would normally scoff at this trite and flimsy squabble as we sat high and lofty in our ivory tower of Loving Correctly. However, something about that phrase gnaws at me; it makes me rethink what I think about benevolence.
(P.S., that documentary is available to stream on Netflix. Check it out. Then agree or disagree with it and know why you do that.)
For about a year, I’ve become interested in the happenings in the political world. This passion fit in nicely with my sense of being “right” and “loving” correctly. My disillusionment of both of the US’s major political parties would, according to me, show my absolute fairness by balancing my distaste of those on the right and those on the left. Instead, I succeeded in ostracizing both sides by degrading some of each side’s heroes. I wanted to be taken seriously for my ultimate sense of what is right, but those in both camps of political beliefs trusted me very little. I viewed myself as an underdog, a dark horse, a male and masculine Rosa Parks, who did the “right” thing and spoke the “truth” regardless of the little support I received.
In other words, this is how I thought of myself…
…but this is how I was…
With the mindset of being a self-proclaimed underdog, it’s easy to empathize with characters like Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog (also available for streaming on Netflix, so watch it!). Billy Buddy, AKA Dr. Horrible, is so disillusioned with the way things are in the world that the only way he thinks it will make sense is if he rules it by force.
This is the extreme of when being right becomes your endgame.
Check out some of Dr. Horrible’s mindset. (Yes in song, look at the movie title.)
Any dolt with half a brain
Can see that humankind has gone insane
To the point where I don’t know if I’ll upset the status quo
If I throw poison in the water-main.
Listen close to everybody’s heart
And hear that breaking sound
Hopes and dreams are shattering apart
And crashing to the ground
I cannot believe my eyes
How the world’s filled with filth and lies
but it’s plain to see evil inside of me
is on the rise.
Look out, Taylor Swift. A new pessimistic singer is on the rise. (Pun!)
Dr. Horrible, bud, I’ve been there. Sometimes going against the entire world with only your sense of right and wrong is kind of futile. Who are you trying to impress? Penny, the girl you like? If so, you’re operating solely based on your own ideals of what is right and what is love (baby don’t hurt me no more). And if you want some flakey insights on making judgment calls on what is right and loving, I know a blog post you can read.
See Dr. H., our own ideas of what is right and what is loving don’t always cut it. If we’re the only ones squawking about what is right and no one else sees it the way we do, then we come off sounding like conspiracy theorists. However, if we filter what others believe until we find common ground and then talk to them about that, we may gain a friend. And then instead of one versus the world, it’s two. And then get another. And another. I think Sun Tzu would agree with this tactic.
Then there’s the whole loving thing. I don’t expect us to agree with my whole loving your enemies thing, but you and I can agree that love is important and fuels the fire of all that we do. Some people, like Penny, seem all about the rainbows and puppies: in that world, love is easy. But, Dr. H., we both know that the world is less Lisa Frankish and more Cormac McCarthian.
To show love in a world that’s gritty and unwelcoming is the noblest thing we can do.
I’ll make a pact with you, Billy: let’s both try to not be limited by our own personal concepts of what is right and what loving means. That’s not to say we won’t fail. I know that for me, it’s only a matter of time til I mess up. But after that, I’ll try again.
And Billy Buddy, I’m not saying that what is right and love isn’t worth fighting for; I think they’re the only things that are. I’m just saying that let’s not allow ourselves to define them. Cuz what is Right and Love are bigger than our own opinions.
It’s more important for me to be loving than right. And I hope you come up with your own belief on that.
And also, just for kicks…
“Politics is a noble activity. We should revalue it, practise it with vocation and a dedication that requires testimony, martyrdom, that is to die for the common good.” –Pope Francis I
Preach it Poppa.
Shameless Popery
“Miserando atque eligendo” [lowly, yet chosen]
Like a lot of Roman Catholics, I am pretty excited about our new pope, elected yesterday. Pope Francis seems to come from a background of intense social outreach and also real humility that is sometimes overlooked in those with powerful positions in the Church. His humble spirit may best be described in his clerical motto, listed in Latin above.
When white smoke escaped the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, signifying that a new pope had been selected, I clicked on a live Internet feed of the Vatican to see when the new pope would make his appearance and address the crowd.
I was moved by the scene I saw on my computer screen – the outside of the Vatican filled to the brim with people, despite the late hour and disagreeable weather. Their excitement and joy was noticeable and superseded the rain and chill that were obviously present. The people were enclosed in the courtyard of the Vatican – the pristine white and inarguable royalty of the place crated a picturesque scene for me. I was frankly awed as the camera switched between several broad and wide shots of the crowd, waiting on the announcement.
Someone watched over my shoulder and asked if the pope had been announced yet. I said that he wasn’t yet, and in the silence that followed I commented, mostly to myself, that the beauty of the scene made me proud to be Catholic.
“You’re proud to be a Catholic, when you see all the money they spend on that place?” he asked me.
I didn’t say anything, allowing me to process the comment for a while. Of course, my snobbyness erupted at first, wanting me to say something like, “Well, if you’re going to spend money, might as well spend it on God.” Even though that’s true, it’s not sufficient. Like Justin Bieber without the Wizard of Waverly Place girl, that response feels incomplete and lacking something important.
Thanks to THIS TED speech, I’ve noticed my own and society’s in general, I guess, inconsistency when it comes to any non-profit organization. (I know this definition doesn’t fit the Church completely, but I’ll get to that later, baby baby baby ooooh.) A nonprofit organization gets criticized for taking, say, 30% of the funds they raise for their own sustaining purposes. The Catholic Church is known as the largest charitable organization in the world. In 1999, the Church took only 12% out of the money raised for charity to sustain itself. (source) Juxtapose that – giving 88% to charities, with, say, some celebrity, who gives less than 5% of his income to charities. However, if the 5% is big enough, the celebrity is labeled a “philanthropist” while nonprofit organizations are “money-grubbing.”
But, you may object, you can’t compare non-profits with regular organizations! I do. Deal with it.
Now, like the Biebs to the Wizard girl, we need to move on from that idea. It’s nice to see the Catholic Church as a nonprofit organization, and true in effect, but incomplete. The Catholic Church is the God-appointed entity that shows His presence to the world. If an entity’s primary role is to BE the presence of God in the world, whether to spend its income on its own beautification (making, in essence, God the center of great works of art and works of beauty in the world) or to spend income on helping others, the children of God becomes an important question. Social outreach is an inseparable part of the Catholic, but up-keeping the vessel of God is an important duty of the Church.
Aside from the snobbyness that hit me when I heard someone criticize the money spent on the Vatican, I have to acknowledge that the wealth of the Church has disconcerted me a great deal, especially a few years ago. In the double-agenda of serving others and building its own appearance, I tend to side with the fact that the Church should focus more on serving others. (Blame it on my naive idealism.)
However, on a purely aesthetic level, the conduit of God should be appealing to the senses. Check out the specifics of the Ark of the Covenant or the immensity of Solomon’s temple. God, from whom beauty comes, deserves to be associated with what is beautiful, inspiring, awesome. In that, He is. And that is why I’m proud to be a Catholic.
P.S. Some concern is given over Catholics honoring this person – a human – too much. To deny humanity as important is to deny that Jesus was both FULLY God and FULLY man. So the selection of the new head of His Church is, in fact, honoring a man. But to believe that we only pay attention to what is spiritual and ignore what is physical is at best, silly and worst, heretical. After all, it’s like Pope Francis says about himself-
“Miserando atque eligendo”
More Authentic, Less Fearful
Why do we do what we do?
This question has been almost ubiquitous to me recently, showing itself in many different forms. Mostly, I see it through social media, the window to people’s thoughts in the twenty-first century. Especially in cases of politics and religion (which seem uncannily and most regrettably similar in most people’s minds), the woeful rants and Jeremiads abound.
Dissatisfaction with the current political clime has let to several states comically threatening to secede from the country. Sportsmanlike conduct, noble in both victory and defeat, is abandoned to anyone who was to actually sign these petitions. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, compromise is out of the question; we’d rather take our gloves and march off the field in blatant and immature defiance than work towards bettering an undesirable outcome. Because I didn’t vote for who sits behind the desk of the Oval Office seems the primary and only reason for signing the secession. We have the right to secede. This is America, after all. …oh wait; that’s the point petition-signers are fighting against.
I am inspired by the strength of people’s faith when they decide to post on Facebook or Tweet about it. However, when the message is “Believe this, or else…” my heart breaks a little bit. A message based on fear is not sufficient. Even and especially regarding faith, fear/guilt is not a valid tactic for conversion. If the answer to why you believe what you believe is based on guilt or fear, you are making no converts; and more importantly, you are not in the right frame of mind.
Fear that a tyrant leads the US and guilt that you don’t sacrifice enough to appease your god are shadowlike reactions. Being thoughtful, slowing down, and shining a light on them will reveal that they aren’t substantial responses.
Feeding Christians to lions if they didn’t worship Caesar as a god, threatening to condemn people to Hell and to torture for printing a Bible in the vernacular, and protesting the “God loves dead soldiers” next to a veteran’s funeral don’t make authentic, genuine believers out of anyone.
Threats simply do not work to change people’s minds and hearts. I think it’s time to start being real.
Being willfully less than genuine seems to be a characteristic that humanity shuns. Voters are appalled by a candidate who flip-flops on issues, constant lying is a universally ignoble act, being “fake” is an insult arbitrarily dealt by by teenage girls to each other, on any list of manly characteristics “being honest” is normally towards the top, etc., etc.
Having Faith
I think it’s about time for me to stop skirting around the issue here and explain an important part of my life.
I am Catholic. I believe in the dogma and the doctrines of the Roman Catholic faith. I believe in the hierarchy and the tradition of the Church on Earth (the Church Militant), acknowledging and not shying away from any of its dark times throughout history. I also believe in an afterlife and that heaven’s members there are known as the Church Triumphant, which is devoid of all of the human flaws throughout its existence..
Part of being Catholic is being Christian. That is, believing that Jesus Christ was Who He said He was. This also means holding the Bible as sacred, which was composed by the Church Militant. To me, this is more than just a book; this is a living, breathing story of Who this infinite and seemingly unknowable God is.
Being existential and humanitarian, sometimes I may not show that this is my core. It is. The history and teachings of the Church Militant and the person of this Jesus-figure provide the lens through which I view reality.
And sometimes, I am struck by how this is so important to me.
Pope Benedict XVI has it been this church-year the Year of Faith, which is a great time for me to reflect on why I believe what I believe.
I recently heard a good talk on my friend Sister Fatima Aphiri about faith that was taken directly from the Bible. All creativity and goodness that may be in this story goes to her. I am just writing it down because I thought it important.
The story taken from the Bible is a familiar one to most Christians. It is the story of Peter being called by Jesus for the first time. Peter had just gotten back from fishing all night with no catches. Jesus then asked Peter to get back in his boat and go out fishing. At some point when their journey Jesus asked Peter to drop his meds in the water. When Peter pulled them back up there were so many fish that the boat was in danger of sinking. At this, Peter shied from Jesus and said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man.” Jesus’s words to Peter were “Follow me and I will make you a fisher of men.”
Sr. Fatima proceeded to go through the story, painting a picture of the scene that had been left out in at least my mind.
Peter must’ve been discouraged, having been out all night as a fisherman and returning home with nothing. This meant that any wages he was hoping to earn from the night and not been received. So, probably exhausted and downtrodden, he returns to the shore to go home. Suddenly this strange person, a carpenter no less, asks Peter to get in his boat and cast off again to fish.
In this light, it would be completely understandable, and almost more realistic, for Peter to say “No thanks,” and go home to his wife and his bed. Yeah for some reason, he doesn’t do that. He goes along with the strange man is not even a fisherman.
And we are left to wonder why.
I know that in my life, I’ve sometimes done the irrational things just because they “felt right.” In such cases logic slipped me and I went with my gut. Being the logical, I think, is an admirable trait and one that must also be kept in moderation. I think that their life there’s a time to be logical and a time to be whimsy. I think this is very similar to “a time to work and a time to play.”
Anyway, for whatever reason, Peter decides to get back into his boat and cast off. Whenever his homeboy the carpenter tells him to drop his nets, seemingly arbitrarily, Peter does so. After Peter pulls in the huge catch offsets his failed attempt at finishing the night before, He says a curious thing to Jesus. “Get away from me, for I am a sinful man.”
It seems that on seeing the size of the big catch Peter would be ecstatic and maybe talk to Jesus about going fishing again. However, his reaction is opposite.
Sister told us that there are two of the worst circumstances in life. One is dying without ever actualizing your dream. The other is actualizing your dream, yet realizing it isn’t as important as you thought it was.
It seems like after making the biggest catch of his career, Peter may not have felt the elation that he dreamed it would bring.
One of the saddest feelings I’ve ever encountered this when I obtain a long-sought after goal, and have the dismal thought, “Now what?”
However, what Jesus says next, always cryptic for me past, makes new sense. One of Peter’s presumed goals in life, his dream of being a great fisherman, turned out to actually not fulfill him.
Jesus may have taken that very human goal of Peter’s and sanctified it; made it profound. “You’re not just going to be a great fisherman anymore. You’re going to be a fisherman of men’s hearts.”
I think it’s important to note that Peter’s goal to be a good fisherman was left intact. It was just very profound by Jesus.
I hope that the same happens in my life. I have dreams and goals. I think they’re pretty darn good. But I hope that, in some way, my goals can be a sacrament. The physical act designed to show God’s presence in the world.
For now, my idealistic existential and humanitarian goals are still intact – my goal is to improve this side of heaven in whatever ways I can. And hopefully, spread some love while I do that.
And hopefully have fun while I do it.
Special thanks to Sister Fatima Aphiri and Amy Stout.
Faith & Works
Like most people from the small town of Opelousas, I was born into the Catholic faith. Throughout my life, I’ve been exposed to a plethora of different religions/worldviews as well, but I always come back to the Catholic Church as my home, but not just for the familiarity it brings; there is a sense of correctness and truth I find in my faith. With every part of my being, I hope that both you and I never stop looking for correctness and truth in every aspect of us.
I find myself really distraught when I see people who appear to have given up on this journey – they seem to be missing out on the difference between living and existing. For me, these quitters of the quest for correctness are not those outside of a faith, but many of those within it.
Gasp.
Please, don’t tar-and-feather me for blasphemy until after I finish this post.
As a self proclaimed Cradle Catholic, I’ve seen a swarm of people simply going through the motions; especially in a church. They kneel, sit, stand, and cross themselves at the appropriate times, but that’s the extent of their participation at church. No response. No singing. No comprehension of what’s being said. (Sometimes) sleeping. Checking their watch to see when they could finally leave.
You know, if I were God…
(Gasp, but tar-and-feather my heresy later)
…I’d be thinking “That’s not it at all.”
Something deep in my being tells me that faith is not simply going through the motions. Faith is the lens by which you view the entirety of life, not an aggravating set of hollow codes you have to abide.
I believed that this attitude set me apart from most Catholics; I felt very weird for thinking this. When I was about to wash my hands of the Catholic Church I met the Summers.
No, not related to Cyclops of the X-men, but just as cool as if they were. I first met my buddy Joseph in college (who was a year older than me) then his brother John Paul (a year younger). They were both really involved in their faith and they seemed to “get” the whole not going through the motions deal about faith that is so right to me.
Through getting to be close friends with Joe and JP, I learned of their parents and the story of them.
As young adults, Frank (a self-proclaimed atheist) and Genie (a Cradle Catholic who had left her faith) both felt God calling them to sell everything they owned and become missionaries. After a profound conversion experience, Frank left his law practice, they sold their house, took their young son Beau with them and headed overseas to preach the Gospel to people living in the third world.
Their passion for the missionary life grew so that they formed a local organization called Family Missions Company. This organization trains missionaries and sends them out to many different parts of the world. The company now has more than 100 missionaries, and has served in places like Mexico, Ecuador, the Caribbean, the Philippines, Thailand, India, Spain, and Ghana. My buddy Joe is getting old, because he’s the current director of FMC, a real big boy job.
As part of their outreach, they are holding a campaign to have people “like” FMC on Facebook. Please do so by clicking here. And check out their website.
Catholic, Christian, or not, we millenials have the lucky burden of wanting to do more than go through the motions and be more than what’s expected of us. The Summers family and FMC is an ideal example of showing what they believe by what they do. And that makes them awesome.
For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead. James 2:26
Now, you can bring out the tar and the feathers.
(Ms. Genie also wrote two books on her family’s transition to the missionary life. If you are interested in a copy, please shoot her a message. Here’s her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/genie.summers?fref=ts.)
(Remember to like FMC on Facebook.)
Beginning Again
I haven’t made a blog update in a long time and since I am going to be working with WordPress pretty often in the future, I decided to check out their blog capabilities. When I found out that WordPress had a feature that would upload every post from my former blog onto this site and when I found out that this UL was available, I decided to move over to this site. And the move re-engaged me into writing a new post.
…and the crowd either colectively cheers or collectively rolls their eyes. I’ll imagine it’s the former.
Being a successful human being is always an important question, and one that’s been on my mind a lot lately. I believe success isn’t quite measured accurately in judging the amount of income someone has, the square footage of his home, or the hotness of his wife. Important to note is that neither do I believe that our degree of success hinges upon our own happiness.
Sorry to contradict you, Dr. Phil.
In my opinion true success not rooted in ourselves. The focus is not internal. We are climbing the mountain of our own lives: only someone who looks at the mountain from far away can determine how big it is compared to other mountains.
Eh, imperfect analogy, but let’s go with it.
Two traits are necessarily important for me in this view. The first is that of friendship. The second, charity. Do the two mesh? Indeed. But, I’ll try to separate them.
Success to me means having the solid foundation of friendship. I speak not of popularity, but in substance. Having people in your life who are there not because of their own benefit, and being this way to others in your life. Caring for someone’s wellbeing above our own, not as a symptom of self-depreciation, but an honest and genuine desire. This is foundational.
Another tenet of success in this definition is what I’ll call charity. By this term, I mean doing good for the benefits of others, either in the future, halfway around the world, or in your hometown. The only difference I see between this and friendship is the degree of familiarity with the other person.
Changing the definiton of success from an internal focus to an external one.
Friendship and charity have clashed interestingly in my life. I am serving in one of my really good friend’s wedding the night before a rally in Washington DC for an organization I’ve been passionate about for over 8 years. Making it to DC seems to be incredibly difficult to go from Louisiana in 10 hours.
I always say that if our tasks are easy, then they wouldn’t be heroic.
I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try to do both the wedding and the DC trip. Why? Both are fundamentally important to me: celebrating a cornerstone in my friend’s life and recognizing myself as a small part of a big movement for charity.
I hope everyone has important events in their lives. I hope you all struggle with finding a way to make all of it work. It’s a good struggle.
Wish me luck as I see if there’s any way to both. And if there is, I”ll be sleep-deprived. And rushed. And stressed. And silly. And more than a little crazy. But it’ll be worth it.
I hope to use this as an opportunity to rediscover the traits that make me me. And though I might not be the best, I hope to be someone I’m proud of.
This new blog reminds me that it’s never too late to restart.
“Let us begin again, for until now we have done nothing.”
-St. Francis of Assisi
Top Shelf Movies: It’s Kind of a Funny Story
I really love movies, and anyone who knows me would probably be able to say that about me, either with a silent sense of reverence or rolled eyes. The movies I own are kept at my apartment in an order that is somewhat special to me, though called arbitrary by some others. My three-shelfed DVD holder is divided based on the value I got from the movies.
The Dewey Decimal System is overrated.
On the top shelf are those movies that I think others should see, as their entertainment value and poignancy are both evident; the second shelf is for movies that are still worth watching, just not a must-see; the third shelf is for movies with a lesser value than that.
If this rack stored beer instead of movies, Budweiser would be on the bottom shelf.
A friend of mine told me that I should blog about movie critiques in my blog. Be careful what you wish for.
Here’s the first movie review I’m giving from my top shelf. All of the TSMs (top shelf movies) are great fodder for thought/discussion while presenting its theme in a way that isn’t boring. I don’t necessarily agree with all of the themes of my TSMs, but think they’re definitely worth discussing.
(BTW- I abhor spoilers with a passion. I will never EVER give away a spoiler to a movie willingly. If I unknowingly do so, please point it out to me in the comments and chastise me.)
TSM – It’s Kind of a Funny Story
A teenager is feeling depressed, so checks himself into the hospital’s mental ward. While there, he learns life lessons and wisdom from the experience and from the patients. This premise seems like a typical bildungsroman or coming-of-age story. Instead of a typical revelation though, Craig’s comes from a place and people generally overlooked by the majority of society. This, coupled with the fact that the first scene in the movie is his recurrent thoughts about suicide causes the reader to see the seriousness of this glimpse into the life of a teenager.
However, the story’s writer acknowledges the somberness of these themes, so peppers the movie with comedic relief (The movie star Zach Galifinakous, for crying out loud.) and with the imaginative and artistic musings of Craig, seen in animations and the movie’s famous “Under Pressure” music video. The result of this quirkiness and somberness is masterful, allowing the audience to really connect with the story and to enjoy the connection. In the tradition of “Scrubs,” my opinion is that a good balance of seriousness and zany antics are a surefire way to be meaningful to your audience.
I mentioned before he imaginings of Craig that show up many times throughout the movie. Whether this is endearing or annoying to you, the movie’s point of view is the showcasing of Craig’s thoughts. This brings up an important discussion point: does this movie promote escapism? Is the solution to Craig’s problems with life only found when he departs from his reality? Symbolically, he escapes reality in his mind when he has his imaginings, and he literally escapes the reality of his life by checking into the mental ward in the first place. According to what this movie proposes, is the only way to “come of age” to escape the reality of life?
I would say not as an end, but as a mean. In other words, for me the distinction lies between “escape” and “retreat.” The movie presents Craig’s retreat from the pressures of his life, not his escape from it. He concentrates on his return to his life the entire duration of the movie. For Craig, like for Jesus, his time spent in the mental institution/desert serves only as a preparatory period for his mission in life.
Maybe the Jesus analogy is too melodramatic.
This movie is on my top shelf because it deals with poignant issues like mental illness, suicide, and depression, in a way that’s entertaining and fun to watch, yet still poignant. Check it out and bring popcorn. Let me know what you think of it in the comments.
Take a Leap
One of the greatest things I’ve ever done was formulated when having a conversation with a friend a couple of hours past midnight, a time when most meaningful conversations happen.
“So,” my friend Loren asked groggily and seemingly barely interested from a couch on the opposite side of the room, “what do you want to do before you die?”
I was struck by the finality and perhaps morbidness of the question: but I knew that this was a guy who, like me, loathes the fickleness of most everyday chit-chatty conversations and longs or a discussion of issues that are deep/too serious (depending on your point of view). I relished the moment and took a breath, thinking about the question before responding to it.
“Go skydiving,” I said.
“Yeah…” he said, liking that response. “I want to tour the Taylor guitar factory.”
Loren is also a musician/hippie, depending on your point of view.
We were both silent after that, imagining guitars and parachutes to the sounds of traffic and the low thudding of bass sounds from the bars in the nearby Strip of Lafayette. The growing shadows in the living room of Loren’s rent-house began to blend into sleep when Loren asked, “What else?”
“I want to go a road trip before I die,” I said. “How about you?”
“I want to go surfing.” Hence the hippie.
Sleepiness was slowly receding as each idea led to another.
“I want to build a bonfire and go camping on the beach.”
“I haven’t been to Disneyland since I was four. It’d be fun to go back.”
“And, of course, see Hollywood.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling the lack of sleep slowly overpowering the adrenaline rush of wishful thinking. “That’d be great.”
Another silent lull, this one making me gradually surrender to the inviting arms of sleep.
“Ya know,” Loren said, “we could knock all these dreams out in one big road trip.”
Rule of thumb: I’ve learned that it’s dangerous to have an idealistic dreamer like me around.
When there are two of us in close quarters, we are highly explosive.
Five months later, Loren, his brother Buddy, and I arrive at my most highly anticipated stop on our road trip to California: Paris Valley Skydiving. Sitting in the rest area, waiting for our turn to take off, I took a personal inventory of my feelings. Was I nervous? I felt more anticipation than nervousness. This is not me saying that I am a brave person: a roach will prove that I’m not. However, unlike brown Hitlers less than an inch long that can survive a nuclear fallout, heights have never bothered me much. I had successfully divorced abandoning a plane mid-flight from death. However, whether I’d die by being mauled by an escaped kangaroo while boarding the plane or plummeting thousands of stories with a malfunctioning parachute, the end result was the same. And frankly, I didn’t want to die.
I’ll admit: the odds dying at the paws of a raging kangaroo are significantly lower than those of dying while skydiving. However, in one of those scenarios, I’d die regardless if I was doing something I loved or hated; if I died skydiving, at least I’d go out trying to fulfill a dream of mine.
Moral of this story: follow all of your reckless dreams.
Not quite. Keep reading.
When it was our turn to board the plane, we suited up in our skydiving gear and met our tandem buddies.These guys would be strapped onto us, knowing what to do during our descent. (Another reason I wasn’t worried: the guy strapped onto me said it was going to be his fifth skydive since that morning.)
The plane ride was jerky and loud (as rides in small planes typically are). When we reached our desired height, an employee opened the plane door. The whipping sound of wind overtook the plane cabin. I couldn’t hear anything anymore, but knew that our jumping order was first Buddy, then Loren, then I would jump out of the plane.
Everything had gone according to plan, but I had not prepared for the psychological reaction of seeing two of my closest friends JUMP OUT OF A PLANE. This was only emphasized when I saw firsthand that the physics inside the plane were different from outside. In other words, in the plane it was easy to recognize up and down. Therefore, when my friends left the plane, they didn’t just go down; they DROPPED.
Now I was no longer feeling merely anticipation. I was scared.
The next thing I knew, I was at the edge of the door and the tandem guy was counting down.
3…
2…
1.
The first thing I noticed was that the cacophony in the plane was gone. The wind was moving so fast that it resulted in silence.
Unable to keep my mouth closed, it opened in a wide grin, because of the constant (but not unpleasant) feeling of going down a steep drop on a roller coaster. I could swear I tasted the wind, both pure and metallic, as it lapped my open mouth, but it could’ve been adrenaline making me think that.
The midday desert in California below you is surreal to see. So many colors sewn together in a natural quilt has no words.
Adding to this incredible experience was the fact that I was seeing the land, hearing and tasting the wind, smelling the air, and feeling the sky not through a medium like an airplane window, but experiencing it firsthand. As an imaginative child who always wanted to fly like Superman, I remember thinking, “I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”
My message for you, readers, is not telling you to always take risks; prudence comes from being timely and careful. Rather, don’t be bogged down in your safety bubble only because it’s safe. Not always, but sometimes, it’s worth waiving your precautions and taking a risk.
No matter show safe you try to always be, sometimes a mauling kangaroo may still sneak up on you. So readers, take my advice for what it is, but don’t make your life so safe that you forget to live.
And every now and then, remember to take a leap.
Social Networking – A Few Rules of Decency
Recently, people have become accustomed to publicize their own opinions. If we can limit what we want to say to less than 140 characters, we can tweet it to our Twitter followers; if we come across a website, video, or picture that’s too good not to share, we can post it so that our Facebook friends can see it; and if we have an extremely poignant, insightful, and lengthy message to impart, we can make a new entry on our blogs. Don’t get me wrong: I love this idea of sharing our life events and have seen firsthand the incredible amount of good that’s possible by taking the information from the mainstream and putting it directly into the people’s hands. We are now more like a global community than ever before. That being said, there are certain codes that we all, as citizens of this global community, should abide by. The progression of this sharing among this global community must become more and more intelligent and amusing, and less mood-motivated. Otherwise, the great potential we have of sharing our lives with others via the Internet will become merely arbitrary. As a person, you are very interesting. By following the three simple rules mentioned here, your online life will remain interesting as well. It’s our responsibility to create an engaging atmosphere for our online friends. Some things to keep in mind are:
#2- PICTURES OF FOOD SHOULD BE POSTED RARELY (IF EVER). I understand if you’ve spent an entire weekend baking and decorating a cake for your daughter’s wedding, or if you live in Turkey and found a Cajun restaurant so you can get boiled crawfish in the Middle East.. If that’s the case, post that picture. However, the smorgasbord of pictures of food on social networking sites is sad. Thanks for advertising your meal, but beyond the five seconds of anyone looking at the picture, it is rendered unimportant. Social media has much more a potential than “Ooooo, look at this plate!” I fear that as easily as pictures of food are irrelevant, so too will social media be. In other words, try to post things of a lasting and meaningful value; pictures of food, for the most part, are neither.
And most importantly…
#3 DON’T COMPLAIN. Look, if something bad happens, I’m not saying it’s always wrong to share. I am talking about those people who post how mad or sad they are one or more times a week. Whenever we think we have a captive audience, it becomes easy for us to unfurl our anger/sadness in hopes that our tantrums will reach understanding, comforting, and validating yes-men. Unfortunately, most people who read your posts of extreme displeasure probably won’t care. Counseling jobs are hard to find; can that be because instead of venting on another person, we are venting to anyone unfortunate enough to see our posts on social media? Some people are very empathic and understanding and will invite us to share our burdens with them. The majority of the Internet population doesn’t care. It’s important to differentiate what it means to be human and what it means to use social media. Do both, please. Just don’t confuse possible Facebook affirmation with human understanding. In other words, when using social networking, create posts that reflect your constant personality, not your fleeting emotions.
It’s a safe bet to say that I myself have done all of these things at some point. I’m not the model of etiquette on social networking, but I still believe that social networking has huge potential. But, as Darwin knows, sometimes potential is reached by the extinction of a few dodos. These acts are the evolutionary equivalent of dodos. ext time someone posts a picture of a cheeseburger, simply ignore it. Without affirmation, these acts will die off on their own. Do your part for the Internet community.
PS. Disagree with or want to add to this list? Leave a comment then.
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