Blessings

I am thankful for everything in my life, but if there’s anything I’m especially grateful for, it’s the amazing people God chooses to walk with me. You guys not only make the hard days bearable, but remind me why every day is spectacular.

Sometimes there are things you get for free.

Those things for which you never ask, for which require no particular task,

Things that solicit nothing more of your soul than but to breathe,

But to live;

To simply be.

And with each gasp of air, you receive. Abundantly.

Sometimes there are things you can’t explain.

The way your heart eased, absolved from all pain,

Fragile and hurt, yet you only felt gain. The peace in the clamour,

Amidst the glitz and the glamour, a voice,

Saying nothing,

And is just there. And the presence is deafening.

Sometimes there are things that make you smile all the time.

Loss of words, loss of rhyme, the moments when for once you’re not in a hurry,

When you finally comprehend that every single one of your worries,

Has led you here. To learn, to share, to grow,

To yearn, with passion, for the whole world to know,

That you are happy. Just really happy.

Sometimes there are things of which you have to let go.

Like that thing called pride that takes you farthest from home,

So to wait at the crossroad for a yes or a no, patience thin as a glass,

Transparent, exposed. To be truth, to be light, to be wisdom, to be hope,

Abandoning all that you reserve on the premise not promised

That someday they’ll be thankful, faithful, stronger.

Not because of you, but because of our Father.

Sometimes there are things called limits.

Time, distance, this place, that place,

That space without contact, without exchange

Of thoughts, sentiments, ideas, something strange,

Because sometimes we get busy, sometimes things get in the way.

But there’s a thing called friendship,

And I think I got it for free,

And words fail and fall short as a tale

And as a sufficient portrayal of how much it has brought me and taught me to be.

Ridden from selfishness, pride, impatience, fear,

So to nurture others in cherishing their own souls as dear.

The world places limits,

But love never ends.

So thank you guys for your love,

And for being my best friends.

BLOG REVISION: Le Guin Blog Topic #2

Topic: If you were a citizen of Omelas, would you stay or would you walk? Please explain and justify your decision.

When I answered the poll on the blog asking if I would walk away or not, I answered "yes" without virtually any hesitation. But looking back in hindsight, I'm honestly not so sure. Of course I’d want to walk away, but I think there’s a difference between wanting to walk and actually walking. It’s like saying that I really want to lose weight without making the effort to create a healthy meal plan and stick to it. What’s the point of wanting change to occur if we’re not going to take action for it? But given the choice, I would walk away from Omelas.

To be honest, being so firm about my decision to walk away from Omelas makes me feel a little on edge. It makes me wonder whether I seriously believe that walking away would be the right thing to do even it came at the expense of my happiness, so to speak. I’m actually the kind of person who doesn’t hesitate to give money when I see someone asking for it. I’d also like to think that I’m generous in the sense that I always smile at people in the hopes of showing others that they are worth being smiled at. But at the same time, I feel as if I often only make the effort to go out of my way to solve an issue if it’s guaranteed that my efforts will make a difference.

For example, I am aware that most of the clothes and shoes I wear are made through child labour. But I can honestly say that knowing that isn’t the first thing I take into account when I consider buying a pair of Nikes. And I can admit to not making the extra effort to gain more awareness about child labour outside the context of school either. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to know more, because I really would. Yet sometimes I do feel helpless towards issues such as child labour and I can’t deny that I would find it extremely difficult to abandon my current First World country lifestyle. It’s one of those uncomfortable truths that I hate admitting to myself, but that I’ve accepted. And I think that the citizens of Omelas face this same problem—knowing there is a problem to be fixed, yet feeling as if there’s nothing one can really do to fix it. Maybe it’s because we’re selfish and ignorant to some degree; maybe we don’t even realize that we are. But I think that mostly, we just feel powerless. And it’s our level of confidence in our own capacity to actually make a change that makes the difference between staying and walking away.

I would want to walk away from Omelas because I don't believe that deliberately ignoring guilt is equivalent to true happiness. I also don't believe that settling for anything less than true happiness is worth it. With that said, I am currently living with the reality that most of my material comfort is a product of the discomfort of others in countries that are much less wealthy than my own. So much for “walking away”.

I really, really would WANT to walk away from Omelas. Like, GENUINELY. But I honestly don’t know if I actually would. Maybe I just haven’t mustered up the courage to walk very far yet. And I'm still trying to discover what walking away actually entails.

 

BLOG REVISION: "What is Masculinity?"

The definition of masculinity can be subjective from person to person. But basically, I would consider masculinity to be the essence of a man. Thus, ‘masculinities’ would probably be all the traits and characteristics that encompass this “essence”, or what a man ought to be.  

The look of a masculine man differs depending on the viewer and has undergone significant change over time. Knights in shining armour were definitely more heavily clothed than most of today’s print ad models. However, I do think that there are masculine ideals that remain unchanged, and I find the most prominent of these to be that of a leader.

The idea of masculinity being equated with leadership seems to be so rooted that we can even see it in little boys who pretend to be superheroes, police men, cowboys, firefighters, race car drivers, soldiers or any role involving some level of valor or strength. Men also generally seem to prefer action movies (or at least compared to the majority of females). Being a leader is almost paralleled with being a hero. This is evident in the case of marriages where men are usually depicted as being the ones to lead the family by having a good, stable job to provide for his wife and kids. It’s like the father figure is basically Superman saving Lois Lane (his wife) from the danger of finances and stress. The leader/hero figure is also evident in the workforce, where men appear to value big leadership positions (eg. Being a C.E.O.) or jobs where they can feel the extent of their ‘contributions to humanity’ (eg. Being an architect or an engineer). Most print ads also try to physically embody a stereotypical or cultural hero—which is generally some buff guy with smoldering eyes, and either minimal clothing or a sharp business outfit. These print ad models are not by any means the face of masculinity. They’re probably just an exaggeration of a man’s underlying desire for strength. And I don’t think most guys would disagree with me if I said that they’d want to prove that they "have what it takes" to succeed, whether to themselves, or the rest of the world (Eldredge).

Whether this leader-hero-man is in the form of little boy dressed up as Captain America or a grown man trying to work his way up the corporate hierarchy, a “masculine” man seems to always be striving for that sense of heroism, control or leadership. I’m not trying to objectify men by saying that all men SHOULD be in control. I’m just speaking from the observation that most men appear as if they want to be.

In 1984, George Orwell portrays Winston Smith as a seriously repressed dude. He has a job he detests and he can’t have sex. I am NOT saying that I think that chastity and an unfulfilling job equal emasculation; not at all. Rather, the role of Big Brother and the Party as having complete control over all of Oceania, and their severe scrutiny of their citizens (Orwell 5), completely deprives Winston of feeling entitled to his own happiness. If Winston doesn’t have ownership of his wants and thoughts, how is he supposed to find any assertion in his masculinity? Winston’s raging desire to destroy Big Brother and the Party (Orwell 19) begins to consume him so much that it even intertwines with his feelings for Julia. Consequently, having sex with her is not so much out of love as it is a form of revolt against Big Brother (Orwell 133). If anything, it is an example of Winston's desperate attempt to regain control over his life. Winston exemplifies that too much repression can result in violence. Likewise, he demonstrates the struggle to establish a sense of identity when one is repressed; in this case, his masculinity. (This is where I would like to subtly congratulate Sigmund Freud for his work in this topic, even though Civilization and Its Discontents was painstaking to get through).

1984 is a perfect example of what happens when masculinity, perhaps even human nature in general for that matter, becomes so repressed that it results in explosion. (Again, thanks Sigmund Freud). It is a story of a man trying to re-establish his masculinity, and the extent that people would go to in order to find themselves when their identities are jeopardized.

Works cited:
Eldredge, John. Wild At Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man's Soul. Nashville: Thomas Nelson. 2001. Print.
Orwell, George. 1984. Ontario: Penguin Books, 2008. Print.

BLOG REVISION: Martyrdom

Question: Do you think Socrates is a man who is willing to die for his personal and philosophical beliefs, or do you consider him to be 'playing' the martyr figure in the extreme sense? The former has connotations of personal conviction whereas the martyr-figure, in this instance, to quote a nearby dictionary (Apple's), is "a person who displays or exaggerates their discomfort or distress in order to obtain sympathy or admiration." Can we separate the two?

Upon reading this question, I found myself intrigued by Apple's dictionary of a martyr. As far as I was concerned, and according to the Webster's New Dictionary which was conveniently situated beside my computer, a martyr is "one who chooses to suffer or die for one's faith or principles". I believe that there is a fine line between being giving for the sake of giving and giving to receive. Taking my belief and both of these definitions into account, I strongly find Socrates to be a man who is willing to die for his personal and philosophical beliefs.

Socrates was the kind of guy who believed that an “unexamined life is not worth living” (Plato 45). He committed his whole life to interrogating people as so to teach people to be wise, reasonable and just. But it wasn’t like Socrates was given any kind of golden star for his quest for justice, nor any compensation for the rough road ahead. Trying to prove this to the poets, artisans, and politicians of Athens led him to be tried in court. He was considered to be a "corruptor of youth". He had even lived in poverty and was denied from preaching in public. But this never stopped Socrates from trying to speak the truth anyways. It makes me think: If the idea of martyrdom is so revered, why are the lives of martyrs so inglorious? And under what circumstance does someone receive the title of a “martyr”? I think that it all comes down to perception.

According to Socrates himself, "There is no man who will preserve his life for long, either in Athens or elsewhere, if he firmly opposes the multitude, and tries to prevent the commission of much injustice and illegality in the state"(Plato 38). Suddenly, I’m reminded of the whole Occupy Vancouver/Wall Street dilemma and the kind of controversy that it sparked. Looking at all the tents set up in Downtown Vancouver in the middle of November with all these signs everywhere almost deliberately instigates a reaction to think about how silly it all seems, and how intense these people are. But in a way I admire them because like Socrates, these people are just trying to prove their truth. And evidently, they don’t care what anyone else thinks either at the expense of their reputation. In Socrates’ case, it just happened to be at the expense of his own life.

There are martyrs everywhere in our day to day. There are people who are willing to sacrifice their pride to forgive someone; there are/were soldiers who risk(ed) their lives on the battlefield in the name of their country or religion; there are people who run the risk of being judged if they demonstrate complete conviction in their beliefs (eg. Being openly homosexual). Yet we don’t generally consider these kinds of people to be martyrs because their suffering isn’t always so evident. But I feel like that’s what makes a true martyr—humility. To me, being humble means being accepting; even it means being willing to suffer proudly, and valuing hope over an outcome. And I think that Socrates was the kind of man who did that.

Again, I really feel as if the definition of a martyr all comes down to perception. And my definition of humility could very well be different from someone else’s. But I don’t think that cockiness leads someone to die for what they believe in. It takes someone humble to have the courage to trust that there’s something more to their life than just trying to survive. 

BLOG REVISION: So what do we REALLY want?

Question: For both (or either) Adam Curtis and Sigmund Freud, is it possible to be happy? Why?

I have always been a firm believer that happiness is a choice. I have also strongly believe that although we don't always have control over our circumstances, we have control over our attitude towards them and ultimately, control over our own happiness and unhappiness. Watching Adam Curtis' depiction of humans as "happiness machines" and reading Freud's strong sentiments regarding civilization and our many discontents posed a number of questions for me: Is it possible to be truly happy? And if so, why do we always seem to want MORE? I personally don’t think that neither Freud nor Curtis find happiness to be impossible. Perhaps they are just very observant of how easily susceptible we are to dissatisfaction.

For Freud or Curtis to say that happiness is impossible would be like saying that it’s impossible to do well on a test when you have your cellphone beside you and Facebook as a chief distraction. Honestly, I think it’s INCREDIBLY difficult to study when there are so many distractions, and it is hard to set your mind on the long-term desire of getting good grades versus the short-term desire of being on top of your Facebook notifications. But it’s not impossible. To some degree, I feel as if this is how Curtis and Freud view the concept of happiness—attainable, but indefinite; a constant discernment process between short and long-term wants. 

Both Curtis and Freud emphasized that humans are driven by the "pleasure principle". We want to do things that'll make us happy. And we want to avoid situations that'll make us unhappy. I can’t really disagree. But the interesting part about life is that we can never guarantee that we’ll get exactly what we want all the time. And in a way, that conflicts with Freud’s idea of the “id” and its notion of unconscious desire. If it’s not guaranteed that we’ll get exactly what we want, how much harder is it to attain it if we don’t even really know what we want anyways? The fact that sentence is such a mouthful already feels like a reason to be discontent—that feeling of uncertainty is so awkward and unsettling.

I think that it’s human nature to crave a sense of certainty. For example, we might want to go to school so we have a higher chance of getting a good job, so we have a higher chance of having a high salary, so we have sufficient funds to pay for what we need and even enough for additional luxuries (like an extra car). That might not apply to everyone. But I’m sure that everyone can relate to the struggle to remain successful, and the frustrations that come with trying your best to ensure success with the constraints of time and money. (Not to mention everyone’s varying definitions of success). Maybe it’s easier to be upset about not having something as opposed to being content about working through hardship to get what you want.  In that sense, I could see Freud and Curtis’ point is that in spite of how much happiness we "attain", there will always be some reason why we will find ourselves unhappy.

Freud says that the main reason why we find ourselves "discontent" is because we are constantly repressed. I could agree with that to some extent. If I wanted to go out with my friends and my parents told me I couldn’t go, I would be somewhat disappointed. Yet no matter how much resentment or anger I might feel, I would be discouraged to act upon those feelings because it is wrong. Does that make it right? Does that mean I would be truly unhappy because I couldn't act upon these instinctual feelings? In this hypothetical scenario, I could consider myself to be unhappy, but not so dissatisfied that I would refuse to love my parents anymore. Maybe what Freud and Curtis mean is that we're not always going to be ecstatic, peppy human beings because we won't always get what we want when we want it. But is happiness really about HAVING?

The question may not even be whether it is possible to be happy, but whether or not we really know what we want. I don't even know if Freud and Curtis have the answer to that. And with all of this “unconscious desire” business, we might not even know exactly what some of those desires are. At the same time, I don't think we as people will ever know exactly what we want, other than to be happy—whatever that means for people.

I obviously can’t speak for Freud or Curtis in saying whether or not they think it’s completely possible or impossible to happy. But I think that they do believe happiness is achievable; they just might find it much easier to entertain discontentment.

Blog Response: "What is Masculinity?"

The definition of masculinity can be subjective from person to person. But ultimately, I would consider masculinity to simply be the essence of a man. Thus, “masculinities” would probably be all the traits and characteristics that encompass what a man ought to be.

The look of a masculine man differs depending on the viewer and has undergone significant change over time. Knights in shining armour were definitely more heavily clothed than most of the print ad models of today. However, I do think that there are masculine ideals that remain unchanged, and I find the most prominent of these to be that of a leader.

The idea of masculinity being equated with leadership seems to be so rooted that we can even see it in little boys who pretend to be superheroes, police men, cowboys, firefighters, race car drivers, soldiers or any role that involves some level of valor or strength. Men also generally seem to prefer action movies (or at least opposed to the majority of females). It is almost as if being a leader is paralleled with being a hero. This is evident in the case of marriages where men are usually depicted as being the ones to lead the family by having a good, stable job to provide for his wife and kids. It’s like the father figure is basically Superman saving Lois Lane (his wife) from the danger of finances and stress. The leader/hero figure is also evident in the workforce, where men appear to value big leadership positions (eg. Being a C.E.O.) or jobs where they can feel the extent of their contributions to humanity (eg. Being an architect or an engineer).  Most print ads also do a pretty decent job of trying to show the physical embodiment of a hero—which is generally some buff guy with smoldering eyes, and either minimal clothing or a sharp business outfit. Perhaps it’s unrealistic, but it’s probably just an exaggeration of a man’s underlying desire for strength. And I don’t think most guys would disagree with me if I said that they’d want to prove that they "have what it takes" to succeed, whether to themselves, or the rest of the world (Eldredge).

Whether this leader-hero-man is in the form of little boy dressed up as Captain America or a grown man trying to work his way up the corporate hierarchy, a masculine man seems to always be striving for that sense of heroism, control or leadership. I’m not trying to objectify men by saying that all men SHOULD be in control. I’m just speaking from the observation that most men appear as if they want to be.

In 1984, George Orwell portrays Winston Smith as a seriously repressed dude. He has a job he detests and he can’t have sex. I am NOT saying that I think that chastity and an unfulfilling job equal emasculation; not at all. Rather, the role of Big Brother and the Party as having complete control over all of Oceania, and the severe scrutiny of their citizens (Orwell 5), deprives Winston of feeling entitled to his own happiness at all. If Winston doesn’t have ownership of his wants and thoughts, how is he supposed to find any assertion in his masculinity? Winston’s frustrations towards Big Brother and the Party in wanting to destroy them (Orwell 19) begin to consume him so much that they eventually intertwine with his feelings for Julia. Therefore, having sex with her is not so much out of love as it is a form of revolt against Big Brother (Orwell 133). If anything, it is almost Winston's desperate outcry/attempt to regain his sense of control over his life. Winston exemplifies that too much repression can result in violence. Likewise, he embodies the struggle to establish a sense of identity when one is repressed; in this case, his masculinity. (This is where I would like to subtly congratulate Sigmund Freud for his work in this topic, even though Civilization and Its Discontents was painstaking to get through).

1984 is a perfect example of what happens when masculinity, perhaps even human nature in general for that matter, becomes so repressed that it results in explosion. (Again, thanks Sigmund Freud). It is a story of a man trying to re-establish his masculinity, and the extent that people would go to in order to find themselves when their identities are jeopardized.

Works cited:
Eldredge, John. Wild At Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man's Soul. Nashville: Thomas Nelson. 2001. Print.
Orwell, George. 1984. Ontario: Penguin Books, 2008. Print.

An Ordinary Day--- Mistakes included, and accepted

9:47 am. About 17 minutes later than I intended to get up. I should’ve gotten up the second I read the time, yet I stayed in bed anyways.

10:30 am: The time my family was supposed to attend church.We all took our time in the morning. We decided to go to a different church at 11.

11:09 am: We were late for church. My parents easily get upset when we’re late (although it happens frequently). We planned to go to a church in Cloverdale. We changed our minds and went to one in Langley.

“If we risk nothing, we gain nothing” read the description for this week’s Mass in the little red Sunday Missal. Well, that was something to think about.

12 pm: My family planned to go to IHOP for brunch.

Sometime after 12 pm at IHOP: There was a bit of a line up so we just looked at the menu while waiting to get seated. I wasn’t sure what I was craving. I planned to get this Cinna-Stack French toast thing.

After we got seated: We were given this “Holiday menu” that featured these exciting-sounding holiday-inspired pancakes. I glanced upon these “Pumpkin Praline Pancakes—I was instantly enticed. I had never heard of them before, let alone tried them. But they sounded delicious.

Ordering: I ordered them.

1 something: Our orders arrived. The pancakes were amazing.Good conversation with the family.
Approximately 2 pm: We came back home. I planned to start homework. I got distracted by Facebook and listening to music on YouTube.

2:30ish: I decided to start doing this post.

3:04pm: The time now. (As I wrote/am writing this)

In “Improv Wisdom”, Patricia Ryan Madson says that a mistake is usually a “result that we had not planned –something unexpected, an odd outcome or side journey, usually something new” (p.104). Between the time I woke up and the time that I’m writing this, a lot of “mistakes” happened. Somewere unplanned (waking up late), some were deliberate (choosing to stay in bed and take my time in the morning), and some just happened because they did(deciding to go to a different church). You can even say that my ordering of Pumpkin Praline pancakes was a mistake. Thank goodness they were fantastic. But my point is that despite whatever mistakes I made or were made today, I still ended up getting to this point where I am completely engrossed in doing my homework perfectly fine.

The value of this “eventual okay” is something that I’ve learned to appreciate because it reminds me that there is nothing so problematic that can occur that doesn’t have a solution. Moreover, it reminds me that it’s okay to not always be certain of an outcome, because we always learn something from taking chances. What if the Pumpkin Praline pancakes were gross? Well, at least I’d learn that they’re gross and I’d know not to order those again. Perhaps that means I probably shouldn’t try that particular flavour again. But it doesn’t mean that I should stop trying new flavours.

Making mistakes is inevitable. And I tend beat myself up for the ones I make, whether deliberate or accidental. But what I’m learning to accept is that since they are inevitable, we might as well choose to be happy anyways and do the best we can to move on. We might mess up A LOT along the way. But maybe it’s that balance of mistakes and lessons that makes life awesome.

Late night ramblings about dance and life

Tonight was one of those nights where you do the most random assortment of things (whether productive or unnecessary) and at the end of it, realize that you've stayed up late enough to be the only one awake in your house. Then you find yourself alone with only the silence of your home, and the restlessness of your thoughts. Consequently, you can't sleep because your mind won't rest. And I am currently wide awake. Since I was up, I decided that I was going to write about these restless thoughts.

About two years ago, my relationship with dance was just as much a struggle in self-acceptance as it was a lesson in perseverance. I was very focused on learning to be confident in myself in spite of whatever skill level I was at, and trying my best to keep doing my best even if I wasn't where I wanted to be yet.

Two years later... I'm STILL working on trying to be confident in myself as a dancer/person, while still trying my hardest to do my best no matter how badly I wish I was where I want to be. But where do I really want to be?

I've literally been praying pretty much my entire dance life to be where I am now--to take virtually every technique class that my studio offers, to dance at Worlds, to teach a huge class, to be so extremely passionate to learn even though I can't always get choreo. Where I am now is exactly where I wanted to be when I started getting really into dance. Yet I still find myself so easily dissatisfied with my progress. Hmmmm.

But you know guys, maybe that's life. We're going to want things, and if we want them badly enough, we're going to work for them. And then we're going to be so caught in up wanting those things, that grade, that person and that opportunity, that we're probably not even going to know when we're there or when we have what we want. Maybe we already have what we want. We have a chance to live, a chance to learn from yesterday, and a chance to find out what living life full out means. We have TODAY.

Maybe I don't have the skill set of a seasoned choreographer, but I can still move. Maybe I haven't had the opportunity to teach somewhere prestigious and totally new to me, but I have my students, and I try to do the best I can to help them grow. Maybe my musicality isn't as good as I wish it was, but I still cherish music. Maybe I can't always take class in Vancouver or Burnaby, but I have my home studio and my whole family (dance and real life) there to support me. Maybe I'll come to a point where I'll be so tired that I just want to give up-- but I know I love dancing anyways. And it's love for anything or anyone that'll see us through.

I'm nowhere near to having this not-giving-up thing figured out. But I'm learning, as we all are, and I write these things in the hopes that you'll remember that you're not alone because we're all on this journey together. Perhaps we won't end up where we want to end up; maybe we'll end up somewhere better. Either way, we can't get there if we don't start here. All that matters is that we just keep going, and that we forgive ourselves for being human as we go on.

PS and Note to Self: Today is a good day to be thankful for how far we've come :)

To God be all the glory!