Believing in things

When P and I were in Chicago we went to the Jeff Koons exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art.  I definitely liked some of his stuff (see picture).  His statement talked about reintroducing a feeling of childlike wonderment.  These sculptures are huge and the force you to see all the little wrinkles and such as if it was a real balloon.  You also see yourself in the reflection.  The scale makes you feel small again.  The material makes you curious - what is that stuff?  How does it work?  How did he make this?  All of those questions are things kids ask all the time but we informed adults usually glaze over.  

Some of his other stuff was less cool and less effective.  We saw a little group getting lectured by the docent and talked b/tw ourselves about whether the artist intended everything the docent was saying or whether art critics just read into it all, whether post-conceptualization and serendipity and process make the product just as much as the initial concept does.  I said without thinking: "Art is something you have to believe in."  And it is.  It requires faith like believing in God or religion.  You have to make a jump because if you never buy into it then you'll never benefit from it.  

I think love is the same way.  You have to believe in it.  You have to believe it's true or that it can be true.  The world you live in is the one you choose to see.  If you don't believe love can be real then it will never be.  If you don't believe it's worth the investment of time and effort and emotion then it won't be.  

Sometimes I scoff at people with more faith than mine.  They believe in things I once did and I think they're foolish for doing so.  That's pretty arrogant and lame on my part.  I just realized that I also scoff at people in love sometimes.  And that's even worse.  I think they can't possibly be that happy, they're way too young to know what they're doing, or they just don't know what they're in for.  Above all things I want to believe in love.  I mean, I've seen it work and it looks like a good deal: my grandparents were married for 64 years.  That's the most beautiful thing I can think of in the whole world.  And my parents have been married 33 years.  They all got married really young and they made it.  

I think my generation's fears about marriage are permeating my idealistic Christian culture picture.  But if it comes down to believing in something hopefully and being in love idealistically, or fearing something and never believing in it enough to let it happen, I'm gonna go with the former.  It's not a question of believing in a happy lie or facing a sad truth.  The difference is that the belief creates the reality.  If you believe it can be good and special and real it will be, and if you believe it will be crappy and terrible and disappointing it'll be that.  In reality, love is both the good and the bad but the picture one paints determines which side triumphs.

My hungover thoughts on a Saturday "morning".

<3

K

Without a fight

Who knew happiness could be so quiet?

I don't consider myself an argumentative person by nature -- maybe some of you would disagree. I've definitely gone through phases where I like to argue, but I suppose I'm out of that now. Even in class I find myself without anything to add to debates about modernism, post modernism, and ethics (some of my favorites!). Maybe I'm not down with the format of asserting myself in an interrupting manner whenever the prof says anything that could be argued with. I'm all about meaningful debate, but I guess I prefer to hear what profs have to say, and decide what I think about it, before interrupting class time to bloviate at length for my own egotistical satisfaction. But I digress.

On the one hand, I find myself without any desire to argue and I wonder if I should be concerned. I don't feel like enforcing my ideas on anyone else. I don't feel like fighting for ideals. I don't feel impassioned about anything in particular. Perhaps this is an offshoot of my previous post. I haven't sorted through all this stuff in depth on my own so I'm not quite sure what I think anymore.

Perhaps more disconcertingly, I don't feel like fighting with other people cuz I'm not sure what I want to fight for. I'm struggling to reconcile myself to a number of disparate beliefs that I once believed concretely. Or rather, I'm currently questioning previously concrete components of my identity (good sentence, no?). I once wanted to be a city planner. I still do. But now I don't know what that really means. I once considered myself a Christian. I still do. But now I don't know what that means, or if I really like what that means. I once wanted to be in love. I still do but...I once wanted to get married, I once wanted to move around the world, I once wanted ... It goes on like this. I fear I don't have much fight in me, not only because I don't know what I want, but I don't know if I know who I am? These things I knew I wanted in a way defined me. Now I don't know how to define myself. That sounds melodramatic. I'm not sure if it's true. Ha.

On the other hand, at least in the context of a relationship, it's so nice to not have to fight. I like being able to enjoy things, and share that enjoyment without having to logically justify my enjoyment. I like having someone else just get it. I like just getting someone else. I like not having to fill every moment of silence with something. Shared silence is quite a lovely something that is all too often ruined with weightless words.

I think one of the most beautiful parts of an amazing Thanksgiving break was reading newspapers on a Starbucks couch, passing favorite articles between us. As I've said before, sometimes I tend to get too caught up in my head. It was amazing to spend time with someone whose presence magically makes all those stupid internal debates disappear. For the entire week, it was like someone hit the mute button inside my head. So as we read the Times and the Tribune, I heard silence and rustling pages, and Starbucks' token world-music-of-the-week album, and the prose of some wonderful Tribune staff writer -- instead of an internal monologue droning on about which of Jameson's four quadrants I fall into.

Now that I'm back to the real world, my self-imposed esoteric dilemmas are back to hashing themselves out in the space between my ears while I vainly try to get work done. But in the same vein as above, it's nice to have someone send me an NPR show they happened to come across which they think I'd like. Those small tokens of affection somehow possess that same peace which reminds me why I'm here and what I'm doing and who I am when I'm not muddling through theory and history and computer programming.

I suppose thoughts of the previous week's loveliness will have to get me through two more weeks of school work. I'm now transcending stress and just enjoying learning (or trying to. I was mad zen-like earlier today! With a deadline tomorrow morning I wonder how long it'll last...) Regardless, Christmas break isn't so far away and I've never looked forward to it more.

If you're reading this, I love you.

<3
K

On love

Here's what I'm thinking:
We all just want to be loved. We're all just floating around in this crazy world pursuing whatever goals and dreams we have. And all any of us really wants is to know someone else, just one other person, gets it. Gets our existence. They don't necessarily have to agree with everything we think. They do have to appreciate it. Once they do, well, then we're not just floating around anymore. Then we're real, because someone realizes (as in makes real) us by realizing (as in understanding) what we're made of, what we stand for, what crazy complexities comprise our personalities.

That's what love is I think. "I get you. I think you're worth something. I may not be just like you, but I like how you think, I like what you do, I admire it, and I'll do everything I can to support it and to support your pursuit of it."

And that's the point of love. Most of us need partners. I mean, I feel entirely complete on my own. It's not an issue of completeness. It's an issue of partnership. Life is tough sometimes. Pursuing our crazy pursuits is tough. We need teammates to help us do it. I don't think that's weakness. I think that's an inherent necessity. If not in a romantic relationship, at least in some sort of relationship with another person.

I'm convinced that practically any two people can make it work. There are definitely some factors which will make it better or worse. Some essentials are shared views on what the world is like: are people good or bad? are social issues important? which is more important to you: money or saving the world? Obviously religious views are huge. But again, two people don't have to have a lot in common to have quite successful relationships. On the other hand, two very similar people can have a really hard time of it. I don't know any common factor to the successful relationship formula besides plain old commitment.

My realization at the moment is this: I don't want to just "make it work." I don't want to just commit. I know I'm capable of it, I've done it plenty. I want more than that. I want something extraordinary. I've made it work enough. I'm definitely seeing differences in how easy or difficult or successful or unsuccessful it can be. The problem is this: Relationships are so much investment. It hurts to put so much into something. I'm tired of investing. This isn't to say there have not been valuable returns in the form of lessons learned, for example. I'm just tired of the guess-and-check method. I want to know how to know if something is worth it before I throw my whole heart and head and life in. Is that too much to ask?

The summary: I need a partner (if not right now, in the long run) I want something better than just workable. Unfortunately, I'm tired of investing myself. So, I dunno what that leaves me with. Just let things roll how they may and see what happens?

Saturday Routine

I don't know what I want to write about today. Nothing that's going on is culminating in any sort of overarching theme. I'm feeling about a million different things at once, I'm confused about pretty much every relationship I'm in, and I don't know what to make of school. When I was mulling this all over this morning, (as I do typically like to mull in the mornings) I thought I've never felt like this before. Then I read my journal from last fall around this time and realized I am always like this. The more things change the more they stay the same.

First: relationships. Friendships are particularly new for me at the moment. I realized I'm much better at making guy friends than girl friends a long time ago. Usually that's cool, but now I'm afraid to make guy friends cuz it seems like it'd be going for something more than friends? I dunno. So girl friends, I actually want some of those, but it seems like cultivating a meaningful friendship with a girl takes a lot of time. Moreso, I think I believe in soul mates more for relationships with girls than guys. My closest girl friends - Natalie, Carrie, Erica, - we hit it off and I knew there was potential there from the get go. There are a lot of cool girls in this program, so I guess I just hope I hit it off with some of them. Currently, I've got a group I hang out with, but I'm tired of the party scene and definitely want something less superficial. Again, it's only September, we'll see how it all works out.

Relationships - Relationships past. Distance, time, past, present. What's worth investing in? Who's worth keeping in touch with? Conversations are investments. To have one, I must really open myself up and let someone in. Often I'm left emotionally drained. Talking is so taxing. There are some channels I wonder if I want to leave open? On the other hand, relationships present. Opening myself up for the first time, letting someone get to know me. The extra effort that it takes to transcend space inherently says something about the relationship. Am I worth that investment? Am I ready for something that connotes serious interest?

Relationships - family. Why do I miss my family? This feels new to me or newish. I've definitely never missed my parents before. This summer was the first time my mom and I really got to know each other. We had some great conversations and I've learned to appreciate her wisdom in areas I never recognized previously. Now I feel some nostalgia to know who she and her sisters were when they were my age. As my grandma gets older I have a desire to know her and the Wieand girl legacy or something. I miss Julie a lot too. She's probably one of my closest friends. Sisters are sweet, and I really wish I lived closer to her. I miss Rick, maybe I'm used to that by now, but even so, I miss knowing what's going on with him.

School - Am I ever content with school? While I sometimes and usually love to learn, I suck at sitting down and cranking out school work. I am easily distracted (which this blog confirms) by my own swirling self-reflections. What's up with that? I need to turn off that part of my brain sometimes. Anyway, now that I've made this huge investment in this school (not only monetarily but emotionally, relationally, etc.) I'm second-guessing it. I know that's stupid. I do want to do this. But watching Top Chef makes me want to quit everything, go to pastry school, and open a cafe-bakery that's open all night. I currently make desserts for everyone's b'day and I love it. It's therapeutic and so satisfying, b/c what's better than having someone make something delicious for you? I know this is stupid. I know whatever I do I will second guess it and consider/wish I was doing something else. I do want my life's work to be more than dessert. I am enjoying planning and I do have grand dreams for fixing the fabric of our cities. I'm just lazy. And, I have a fear complex when approaching new school work. I'm all afraid I don't/won't know what I'm doing so I don't even want to start an assignment. I'm psyching myself out. I've got to get over that fast.

So that's all. I'm here listening to John Lennon's "Walls and Bridges" album. I'm trying to decide if I should go elsewhere to study. I'm still mulling. I've got a lot to do. I have to figure out how to actually make myself get stuff done. I love you if you're reading this.

Falling

Studying at a café. Today is the first chilly day so far. The air is noticeably crisp, my blue hooded sweatshirt is comfortable, and my flip-flopped toes are cold. I’m trying to figure out why fall’s advent invariably makes me sad. And lonely. Lonely is the best description of it. Everyone else loves it. It scares me to death. Natalie talks about a "sense of impending doom" that she gets from time to time. The first bite of a fall breeze invariably floods me with that feeling.

I'll try to deconstruct my feelings by looking to my past. I think back to high school when fall meant marching band, football games, Tom. All of those things were anxiety-ridden to say the least. Before that I remember starting middle school and not knowing who my friends would be that year or how my classes would be, being scared in sports and scared of teachers. After that, college meant coming back to the stress of the art program and friends and Vijay. Over the summer Grand Rapids looked so comfortable and home-like on the horizon. But upon arrival, I was always thrown off by even the smallest changes in dynamics between me and my friends' relationships, how much time we spent together, where we hung out.

Maybe that's what it boils down to. Fall is change for me. In my cognitive calender Fall feels like the real beginning of the new year. Fall is the transition into whatever I'm beginning. I should become Jewish so I can celebrate Rosh Hashanah. (I wonder if when I’m finally done with school, fall will mean something different?)

I think I'm pretty sensitive to my environment in general - any changes in light, color, temperature, breeze. I notice these things can literally take me from a soaringly good mood to a sad one instantly. Fall varies pretty extremely from Indian summers in September to shivering stick trees and snow storms in November. It also has to do with directionality. I love spring because it's taking me out of winter and into summer. It's a change in a good direction. Fall is taking me away from summer (which I think is my best season) and into winter, which is easily my worst. (What's my problem? Who has seasons? I'm ridiculous.)

Additionally, I want to be in love in fall. It’s chilly and I want to hold hands with someone. I want to huddle under a blanket at a football game or share a steamy cup of coffee in the park. Cities are the most romantic places to me and I want to be in love in this one. And well...the current laws governing speed, time and distance make that a bit impossible at the moment. (Missing people is so pointless. The only benefit is it confirms/reiterates how much you care for someone. But after that it just hurts. The best thing is to not think of it.)

I also miss my family like I never have before. Well, no. I always miss Chicago because it always feels like home. But that feeling is rather intense at the moment. I really can’t wait to see my sister and my grandma and my aunts and cousins. Thanksgiving is an exciting thing on the horizon. I just have to get through all the school between now and then.

In any case I’m ok. I’m consistently running again which feels good. I am enjoying my classes and my friends. I feel a lot of things. But I feel good. I’m excited about life. Excited enough. A bit worried about money. A bit worried about finding a church. But things are ok and I’m ok and I’m going to be ok.

Hating blogs but bored at work

I don't know what I have to say. I do like this font though. Mm. Yes, very nice. I work at an office and they don't really have any work for me right now. I forgot to bring my book today, so alas, blogging is my only option for appearing to look busy.

Status of things: warmish outside, sunny now but was rainy during lunch, office is frigid.
Status of me: My fingers are cold. My heart is...feeling multiple conflicting and unrelated emotions.

Big events of the day: Someone called me at friggin 5 in the morning, drunk. I guess I wasn't supposed to wake up because he wanted to leave me a message. So he called again and I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep. Upon waking up I read his text message before calling my mailbox to listen to the phone message. Both pissed me the hell off. "I miss you more than I've ever missed anyone, I love you - it feels so good to say it, I want to go on a date with you when you come into town, blah blah." He was afraid I'd be pissed. I am, but I think he was concerned I'd doubt his sincerity and chalk it up to the alcohol. That's not the case. I believe he's sincere. I just don't care. I guess I do care. I think I'm offended that he thinks he can just call me in the middle of the night and expect me to want to hear this shit. I'm over it. Maybe that makes me heartless, I'm not sure.

Big break-ups result in necessary deconstruction. After being in a relationship for so long it takes awhile to gain perspective on what your relationship really was, and what you really want/wanted all along. Now in light of new friendships, perhaps crushes, on the opposite sex, I'm wondering how I ever really felt about him. I read some stupid magazine at lunch, interviewing someone on how many times they'd ever been in love. I tried to count. I'd say two, but they were two different kinds of love. With the first guy it was that crazy head-over-heels first love madness. I was way too young to feel anything that much, and there wasn't much substance to base it all on, but what can I say? It was love. The second guy, on the other hand, was quite different. I don't think I ever felt giddy about him. I liked who he was + I had fun with him + we had good conversations= we were friends. Friendship was the core of why we started dating and also the reason we stopped. I loved him like a best friend. I was committed to him which is definitely part of love, but I wasn't ever crazy about him. He had such high expectations of love and romance, so I always tried to make myself feel those and tried to make our relationship reflect them, but in reality, they were never just there. Looking back, I had been falling out of love with him for quite some time before we finally broke up. I think that's why I'm totally over it now, even though it only officially ended a few months ago.

Until recently I thought I was too old to get giddy sixth grade crushes - butterflies, dreamy-eyes, smiling to myself at just the thought of the other person. Fortunately or unfortunately, I was wrong. I enjoy feeling something so innocent and light but intense. I like feeling real things. I like not having to meet any expectations or plan for a future. Maybe it's immature, but I'm sick of faux-mature relationships. Finishing college I saw too many couples getting engaged because they thought it was the empirically correct thing to do, even though (at least from my perspective) many of them have a lot of growing-up to do and issues to work out before getting married. I'm a kid. I like being a kid. I like playing and enjoying life. No need to tie it down to the ground before it's really started flying. Not to say relationships are inherently bad. I like them. But I think more people need to take them easy and not hinder what could be quite beautiful by weighing it down with obligation and expectation and an arbitrary, self-imposed timeline.

So what's the bottom line? I like love. I like life. I like being in both. I don't like when one hinders the other. Love should never be forced, and before marriage at least, love should never be about obligation and expectation. And...good friendships don't necessarily make good loves.