... and He wants me to be happy:
Beer.
Yes! But also, if I may be confessional: I love talking about thoughts, though I'm no philosopher, and I have these conversations almost constantly. If I'm trapped in an elevator with one other person, it'll be a Taoist. The young guy at the end of the coffee bar Wednesday, a Guinness pint blacking the middle circle of his face, read a paperback Jung.
If God is sending me in to "sic'em," He's chosing the most ineffectual attack dog, philosphically, of the universal litter-at-large. I approach, eyes bright with delight. "What are you reading?" His eyes, brightening, "Symbols!" and so it ensues.
Whatever I contribute, it's from a Christian brain/heart, so ... it's the most joyous, organic "evangelism" I do.
With unquantifiable results. Only God knows where that person is in their thinking. It's a light yoke to just enjoy, speak honestly, and let God do the soul-work of soul-winning.
I'm the least-schooled of the litter. There are wizards of minuitae -- dates, systems, terminology. I dig the philosophers' macro-visions, their bird's-eye views of life/existence/meaning-etc. The nutshells the thinkers honed their ideas into before they keeled over. Which means, I'm flush with broad simplicities -- but isn't that what matters most? (To Christians and Taoists. :)
I really don't know how to say this but, there's a specific Walk with God that I want more than anything else in the world. (And it does have something to do with the nebulous "love-of-thinking" and a few other elements.) I guess I'm blogging about it because I'm coming to new conclusions, concerning it.
For one it's overwhelming, because God's re-energizing this dream in the midst of ... my rampant imperfections. I've also realized, lately, that it may mean I won't get married (though God could miraculously find me a kindred spirit). I just want this more than marriage, or anything. Doing what I truly enjoy, "partnered" with God, the spring of joy.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Not too swift
For some reason, I gravitate towards "quick" activities, while my brain moves as fast as an ent. More "hoom, hoom" than zoom, zoom.
In kung-fu, I'd finally gotten into the habit of "stepping up" when challenged (since, in my style you interdict quickly, act on the absolute very-first opportunity to strike, it being designed for smaller fighters), so I'd step up and ... just stand there. "You think too much!" Sifu would say, pummeling me about the eyes and nose. Hypothetically blinded and broken, I'd slouch back against the wall to ponder this.
But, I already know this about myself. I work in a coffee house now because it's Zen-like -- spontaneous, external, physical, rewarding with the pleasures of skill, etc. When I started, though, I was overwhelmed by the multitude of minutae: dust on the brass lamps, fetch more espresso, stock the Red Bulls, make more iced latte for the lunch-folk ... Where do I start! Frozen, I ponder, where do I start? Well, just start. And my mantra now: Just be quick.
Still, skill plays a huge part, right? If I'd ever become proficient in kung-fu, I would have had an army of techniques burned into my muscle memory, flowing from me naturally in a fight. I've got pretty good coffee shop-skills, after three years, and do "flow" around the counter. (I think the same applies with Christian living, having Scripture so absorbed that when an occassion arises, we at least hear that truth via the Spirit).
The thing is, now, though, I'm trying to "figure out how to do" improv comedy. It's been @ three weeks, and while I've had moments of ludacris lunacy, I've also stood there like a (too long! I'm taking too long to decide what I've "stood there like") ... doofus. (Yawn.)
So ... where does skill fit in with this? Do I actually try to "quantify" some of the random characters I like to pretend to be out in the real world? (I am a freak!) (But even our kitchen guy has a "character." Trouser Troll. And you WOULD laugh until iced latte came out your nose, if you ever saw it.) We'll see. I'll just start and see where it takes me.
In kung-fu, I'd finally gotten into the habit of "stepping up" when challenged (since, in my style you interdict quickly, act on the absolute very-first opportunity to strike, it being designed for smaller fighters), so I'd step up and ... just stand there. "You think too much!" Sifu would say, pummeling me about the eyes and nose. Hypothetically blinded and broken, I'd slouch back against the wall to ponder this.
But, I already know this about myself. I work in a coffee house now because it's Zen-like -- spontaneous, external, physical, rewarding with the pleasures of skill, etc. When I started, though, I was overwhelmed by the multitude of minutae: dust on the brass lamps, fetch more espresso, stock the Red Bulls, make more iced latte for the lunch-folk ... Where do I start! Frozen, I ponder, where do I start? Well, just start. And my mantra now: Just be quick.
Still, skill plays a huge part, right? If I'd ever become proficient in kung-fu, I would have had an army of techniques burned into my muscle memory, flowing from me naturally in a fight. I've got pretty good coffee shop-skills, after three years, and do "flow" around the counter. (I think the same applies with Christian living, having Scripture so absorbed that when an occassion arises, we at least hear that truth via the Spirit).
The thing is, now, though, I'm trying to "figure out how to do" improv comedy. It's been @ three weeks, and while I've had moments of ludacris lunacy, I've also stood there like a (too long! I'm taking too long to decide what I've "stood there like") ... doofus. (Yawn.)
So ... where does skill fit in with this? Do I actually try to "quantify" some of the random characters I like to pretend to be out in the real world? (I am a freak!) (But even our kitchen guy has a "character." Trouser Troll. And you WOULD laugh until iced latte came out your nose, if you ever saw it.) We'll see. I'll just start and see where it takes me.
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