Sunday, June 12, 2016

Miscellaneous Wisdom

Drafted this a few years ago. Not finished or perfect, but worth sharing. 

1. On Success
To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

2. A woman sat on her porch one summer evening and talked with her prized possession – a worldrenowned racing greyhound named Cash. When he raced, Cash ran with all his might and won and won and won. After each victory, his owner happily deposited the large paychecks into her retirement fund. The two often spent hours on the porch recounting these victories and pondering future races. This evening was different, however. After decades of success and millions of dollars in winnings, the greyhound told his owner that he was hanging it up. Cash had run his final race. Upon hearing the news, the shocked owner asked: “Just be honest. Are you getting too old to keep up this pace?” Cash answered, “No, no, I still have a lot of race left in me.” Moving on, the owner pried, “So, are you injured?” “No.” Cash replied, “Actually, I’ve never felt better!” “Well,” inquired the woman, becoming increasingly frustrated, “do I mistreat you in any way?” “Come on,” came the response, “you know you always treat me kindly.” “Then why? Why won’t you race? I must know. You are so good at what you do and you’ve worked for years to get to this point – the pinnacle of your career. If you retire, we will miss out on even larger paydays, worldwide fame and a chance to go down as the most successful owner-greyhound combo in history!” 

To that Cash replied: “I don't want to race anymore because after all those years of running and running and running, I finally discovered that the rabbits I have been chasing all my life aren’t even real.” 

-Corey Ciocetti, from Chasing Real Rabbits


2. On attitude

One of life's best coping mechanisms is to know the difference between an inconvenience and a problem. If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you've got a problem. Everything else is an inconvenience. Life is inconvenient. Life is lumpy. A lump in the oatmeal, a lump in the throat and a lump in the breast are not the same kind of lump. One needs to learn the difference. - Robert Fulgham, Everything I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten

3. On Tact
Tact is the art of making point without making an enemy" - Isaac Newton

4. On fellowship with humanity 




Wisdom from Doctor Who
The Doctor: [Pointing to frozen Abigail Pettigrew] Who's she?
Kazran Sardick: Nobody important.
The Doctor: Nobody important? Blimey, that's amazing. You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I've never met anybody who wasn't important before.



On grudges


The Carrot, the Egg, and the Coffee Bean
A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. 
She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling.  It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.
Her mother took her to the kitchen.  She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire.   
Soon the pots came to boil.  In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.  She let them sit and boil, without saying a word.
In about twenty minutes, she turned off the burners. She fished out the carrots and placed them in a bowl.   She pulled out the eggs and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled out the coffee and placed it in a bowl.  Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what you see.”
“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.
Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft.  The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it.  After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. 
Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee.  The daughter smiled as she tasted its richness and savored its aroma.  The daughter then asked, “What does it mean, mother?”
Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity — boiling water.  Each reacted differently.
The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting.  However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.
The egg had been fragile.  Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.
The ground coffee beans were unique, however.  After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.
“Which are you?” she asked her daughter.  “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond?  Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?”
Think of this: Which am I?  
Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?
Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat?  
Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?  Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?
Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain.  When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor.  If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst; you become even better and change the situation around you.
When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level?
How do you handle adversity?  Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?
The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of things that come their way.

On Humility
"My list of virtues contain'd at first but twelve; but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud; that my pride show'd itself frequently in conversation; that I was not content with being in the right when discussing any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he convinc'd me by mentioning several instances; I determined endeavouring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive meaning to the word.
I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it. I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of every word or expression in the language that imported a fix'd opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted something that I thought an error, I deny'd myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear'd or seem'd to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner; the conversations I engaged in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I propos'd my opinions procur'd them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail'd with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.
And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my points."
Benjamin Franklin, in

On Joy and Sorrow
Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow." 
      And he answered: 
      Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. 
      And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. 
      And how else can it be? 
      The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. 
      Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? 
      And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

On Pain
And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain." 
      And he said: 
      Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. 
      Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. 
      And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; 
      And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. 
      And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief. 

On Giving
      Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving." 
      And he answered: 
      You give but little when you give of your possessions. 
      It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. 
      For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?  
      And what is fear of need but need itself? 
      Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, thirst that is unquenchable? 
      There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome. 
      And there are those who have little and give it all. 
      These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty. 
      There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward. 
      And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism. 
      And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue; 
      They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.
      It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding; 
      And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving 
      And is there aught you would withhold? 
      All you have shall some day be given; 
      Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

On Love
 Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love." 
      And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said: 
      When love beckons to you follow him, 
      Though his ways are hard and steep.
      For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. 
      Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,       So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
      But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, 
      Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, 
      Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. 
      

Synergy is when the whole is greater than the sum of it's parts, when 2+2 miraculously equals 5. In love and friendship, look for people who love you as you are, but make you a better version of yourself. 

On Nature

On safety nets
"If you ever choose to pursue something where the odds of your success are low, people will always tell you to have a safety net. "Study art, but double major in business, just in case" they'll say. Of course this advice is  always well-intended, but the problem with having a safety net is that if it's there, you will always use it. Without a safety net, you're going to get really damn good at walking on that tight rope."
(Not sure of the original source or wording of this, but thank you to Jim Halderman for sharing it)

That one time I took a creative writing class...

A followup from the previous post. 

Some nonsense poetry. (Serena loved it; I got an A)


There are holes at the ends of my finger tips
where the universe escapes
and pinprick lights appear
in periwinkle dawn, sparrows sing
in open awe
of calloused palms
and desert patterned snowflakes
float in ripples over sand

breathing shallow vapors
cadenced gases
morphine wine
in picket fences blended
subtle casualties of crime

If hollowed cheeks and rosy tongues could speak
they'd drown the books in rivers
and the window to my heaven would

collapse in

faded

time




Needles

If there were a god in Amsterdam
I would live in salt
or something

I gave up French like you gave up opium
        except you didn't
     menteur

There's an empty bottle in the riptide
              or was it full?
        sorry

You let the bonsai tree die.
that's grounds for divorce
    right?

How can you fit so much sleep in your mouth
I'm drowning in a sea of
                                                                                                 stars
Fuck
     January is suffocating
                                    your lungs must be made of piano strings

I'm sick of Tchaikovsky. 




And some form poetry, because apparently I've got a knack for rhythym. (I wasn’t allowed to write this until week 7… apparently it’s "juvenile" in the art world...) 


Your soul will be the humming bird
Your breath the trembling reeds,
Our tales of grand adventure
Will be whispered in the trees.

I’ll hide your scribbled letters
Under faithful willow roots,
And when the clouds pour April
I’ll plant poppies in your boots.

Your ring I’ll wrap in lilies,
By the bullfrog-guarded stream,
And stories etched in ancient wood
Will bury blue-eyed dreams.

The weeds I’ll leave as tribute
To the scars along your spine,
For stone still wears its dignity
When cloaked tangled vines.

And here I’ll come to visit you
In swaying beds of flox,
For a roof of constellations
Is much better than a box.

In Memoriam
I'll sit and wait on the banks of the sea
For the man whose shadow fades
'til waves crash down through flooded lungs
And darken light's cascade.

I'll sit and wait for the hour to come
As the whisp'ring shadows slide
Over the hills with a golden glow
'Til they meet the tumbling tide.

I'll sit and wait as the water climbs,
And twilight dawns its musk.
And the bloody suns slips beneath the sky
To await the imminent dusk.


Monday, September 22, 2014

Heidelberg: Welcome to my life in a fairy tale

Heidelberg.
Population: 150,000
Prevalence of students: 1 in 6
Annual tourist count: 3 million
Annual liters of wine consumed each year: You don’t even wanna know.

Welcome to fairy tale land, i.e. my residence for the next four months. With cobble stone streets and ivy draped over nearly every building, it's pretty much a scene out of a Grim Brother's fairy tale. There are multiple Rapunzel-worthy towers scattered though out the city, and up the hill a little ways there's a thickly-wooded forest, where if I only had a red hood, I could easily play the protagonist. Did I mention there’s a giant castle looming on the hill? I rest my case.










So here I am, nearly three weeks into my program and finally writing about where the heck I am. The American Junior Year Program at the University of Heidelberg consists of about 35 Americans from all over the States, including 5 other students from my home-base, the University of Denver. I'm living in a flat shared with three others, though they haven't all come back from the summer holidays yet.

A few highlights from my first few weeks here:

Das Heidelburger Schloss (The Castle of Heidelberg)

The first of all Heidelberg tourist obligations, we visited the Castle as a class during our first week in the city. 

Die Schlossbeleuchtung (Castle Illumination)

On the first weekend here we got to experience one of the coolest celebrations in the city, a "burning" of the castle and fireworks to follow, for which the city was packed with tourists.



Philosophenweg

Visit from the Fritzsches

Grape Harvesting!

Natzweiler-Struthof Concentration camp

Mont Saint Odilia Monastery




Saturday, September 13, 2014

Fun with Advanced German Grammar, plus 10 pictures of Spongebob that perfectly explain my life.

As our first week of advanced German grammar classes comes to an end, I'd like to share a few relevant pictures and memes that perfectly describe my experiences with the German language.


Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia: noun: The fear of long words.
Also a big problem if you happen to study German.
(Excuse the language. But seriously.)


When I think I remember things from the last time I was here. 


Except with genders. (There are three)

German syntax, in a nutshell. 

What I understand when older people try to talk to me in dialect. 

German nouns are capitalized. All of them. 













When someone accidentally forgets to use the
 formal tense when speaking to a teacher. 

I asked my old host brother why everything is always written in English,
gesturing to a bottle of body wash in a drug store. He answered: "Because 'diamond touch'
sounds a lot nice than 'Diamanten Beruhrung;". Hard to argue. 

Whenever I try to speak German on the phone. 

When I try to explain complicated things. 


And now a run through of the school day, as explained with 10 pictures of Spongebob. 

The first day of school. 

\



Seriously questioning knowledge of German grammar. 

When the teacher explains the difference between
Konjuntiv II, Praeteritum and Plusquamperfekt. 

When the teacher yells at the person next to you for not
knowing the difference. 

When it's almost your turn to answer a question. 


Praying to the grammar gods for an easy one.
BS-ing your way through an answer.


Randomly guessing and getting it right.


Homework. 

The end of the day....




Rinse and repeat.


Monday, September 8, 2014

Dublin: 50 shades of red

Copper, auburn,  strawberry blonde, firetruck, rusty gold, or just plain ginger, Dublin has it all. With the most freckles per capita and the highest concentration of people who can claim relation to Chuck Norris, Ireland may just be the Mecca for red heads everywhere. While the rest of the world (including the US) averages 1-2% ginger, Ireland estimates that 10-12% of their population has some shade of natural red hair (which means I was asked for directions no less than 5 times, because apparently being ginger automatically gives me Dublin street cred). After a few days it became a game to mimic the accents of locals to see if they would notice I was a foreigner. If any of them noticed, they didn't ask me where I was from. #chameleonstatus

My travel pace was significantly slower than in New York, as I viewed the week not only as an adventure but as a week to sleep, de-stress and re-center before school starts up again. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a week to myself with no demands on my time (self imposed or otherwise) and it was a much needed week of relaxation and stabilization.

A few highlights from the week:

Glendalough and the Wicklow Mountains

        Once the jet lag wore off I booked a day trip through a tour agency to Glendalough (pronounced glen-da-lock) and the Wicklow Mountains. I was lucky enough to snag a window seat, and the lovely Spanish woman sitting next to me completely understood my need to be slightly antisocial and listen to Celtic music while driving between stops. I'd heard the Irish country side was the main attraction of the country, and it didn't disappoint, though periods of heavy fog meant we only saw about 10 feet from the bus. Even that wasn't so bad, because when we got up into the mountains the fields were covered with beautiful purple Heather bushes, reaching right up to the road.

Our first stop was the bridge where the movie PS I love you was filmed, so you can take a look at the flowers for yourself!



The next stop was Glendalough, which means valley of two lakes. It was a 6th century monastic settlement where ruins of the buildings and a graveyard still stand, with two deep black lakes nearby. The valley was sheathed in a layer of fog that drifted in and out of the trees, and for the first time I didn't mind that the sun wasn't shining. It was eerily beautiful and definitely my favorite part of the trip.






Isaac's Hostel and Friends

I stayed at a hostel hidden in an alleyway near the center of Dublin, where I quickly made friends from all over the world. Every evening was spent cooking with 25 other people in a kitchen with two stove tops (joyful chaos), and I quickly joined up with a group of solo travelers who each pitched in something to make a more interesting meal. Everyone did their own thing during the day, but come 6 o'clock you would start to see familiar faces in the common room, and after dinner we would hang out in the sauna or play guitar in the wide, arched tunnels in the basement of the hostel, which was once a wine cellar. Soon I had a small group of friends- Sarah and Beto from San Francisco, Maxim and Oceane from France, Vince from Moldova, Victor and Leo from Brazil, Ronja from Germany, and Gozde from Turkey. Some of them were  apartment hunting in preparation for study abroad in Dublin, and when Sarah and Beto landed an apartment in the temple bar district with a pool table we had an apartment warming party. 

Pub Crawling

I've never really been a heavy drinker, which is why I instantly fell in love with Dublin pub culture. Going to pubs is first and foremost a social gathering, clear by the tables of locals (from various generations) out for a pint with their friends. After that it's about the live music, most of which was traditional Celtic, though some pubs were more rock oriented. The band below was one of my favorites. The video doesn't do it justice, but it made the Irish in me want to break out dancing. I'm really going to have to take some Irish or Scottish dancing lessons at some point in my life... 

And all else aside, the Guinness was pretty good. Never did try an Irish car bomb though, Colin, I figured ordering one would offend pretty much any local, considering the trouble that's still ongoing in Northern Ireland. 
Hostel friends at one of the edgier pubs.

The most famous (and touristy) of all Dublin pubs. 

Temple bar district

Howth

On my last day I took a short day trip with a few hostel friends out to Howth, a small fishing village on the Eastern coast. We hiked about 7km around a peninsula, where we found break taking views and many more fields of heather. Very cool. We finished off the day with fish and chips on the dock, and an afternoon train back to the city. 






Observations about Dublin

1. There are pots of hanging flowers everywhere. SO cute.
2. It was cloudy most of the time, and rained most days. That's pretty standard apparently.
3. There is Gaelic on all of the signs. Apparently kids still have to learn it in school and it's survival is heavily subsidized by the government, though few people speak it in every day life. Government workers and teachers are all required to be fluent. They also call it Irish, not Gaelic, as Gaelic refers to Gaelic football. (see here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEAbWrdB9XU)
4. The streets change names every block or two, which makes it REALLY. HARD. to use maps. Hence why I gave up and just started wandering.
5. It's fun for pub crawling and the Guiness factory, but if/when I go back to Ireland I'd rather spend more time in the country side. That seems to be where the country really earns it's stripes.

On traveling solo for the first time

As I reflect on my week in Dublin, I realize two profound things.

Firstly, I seem to have lost nearly all fear of getting lost.

As mentioned before, the street names changed every few blocks, rendering my map nearly useless. I was also hesitant to even pull out the map for fear of losing my local ginger camouflage. The streets were well populated and I only ventured out by myself during daylight hours, so I felt completely comfortable wandering through the streets and parks. When you're with someone I feel like there's an unspoken pressure to make sure the other person is having a good time, and if you accidentally walk the wrong direction or take a wrong bus you feel guilty for wasting the other person's time. But travel solo and that pressure evaporates. Unless you're on a schedule, traveling to a specific place, there is no way to take a wrong turn. As my favorite George Harrison song lyric goes, "If you don't know where you're going, any path will take you there."

Traveling solo I was always more cognizant of where I was, so I finding my way back became quite easy. Instead of walking with my nose in a map, I noticed landmarks and unique stores that left an easy bread crumb trail. I occasionally needed help finding a specific landmark, and locals were always happy to point me in the right direction. Being able to reframe "getting lost" as "seeing more of the city" is another great way to take the angst out of navigating a new area.

Secondly, I've learned something about the importance of going slow.

In contrast to New York, where we planned each day's events and always seemed in a hurry (despite attempts to walk at a "grandfather pace"), in Dublin I was on no schedule and had seven full days to see the city. Being alone I could go at my own pace, so I literally wandered without a map through the city. Consequently, I found places and events that I would never have intentionally visited, like a Korean cultural performance competition in a hidden amphitheater in the city. (I literally followed the sound of the drums; I'm lucky it wasn't some satanic ritual.)

Time became an abstraction. I woke up when I felt like it and stayed up into the wee hours of the night for basement jam sessions and music at the pubs. I chatted with locals and got recommendations of their personal favorite spots in the city; I sat on a bench at St. Stephen's Green sketching the ducks and reading The Alchemist. I may not have seen as much of the city as I possibly could have in a week, but I came to understand it better. I observed the locals on their daily commutes, wandered down streets away from the usual tourist bustle, stood on bridges and watched the seagulls dive for scraps of bread.

It's a way to travel, but also a way to live. We can race to pack as many things into our day as possible, and we might feel accomplished, or impressive, or whatever it is that drives us to "be productive." But that leaves little time to smell the roses, or notice a beautiful sunset, or chat with a stranger at the bus stop. The most profound and incredible moments in life cannot be planned, and if you do not allow for unplanned space in your life you may never experience them.

So if I can offer any advice to those who find yourselves in automatic go-mode, it would be this.

Go slow. The grave is not a finish line.

It's advice I need to follow as well.  Until next time...