Settling In

For a long time, when I've thought about what I wanted/felt was best to do, career-wise, my head was always cluttered with the varied possibilities; I was always wanting to go down what were usually little more than blind alley curiosities. I have a sort of novice interest in many things, or rather, I'm a little curious about a number of things, even if it is perhaps only a sort of knee-deep curiosity, so that has made it really hard to pin down what I was going to do.

On the other hand, since high school times, certain sparks have roused themselves, have made their "certain-ness" clear to me; or at least strong. I know when I write, when I feel things honestly with my words, something feels clear in me. Real, like the thing in the middle that really matters. Even when I was little, long before I dared to ever think I could do something with it, I loved the process--writing, I mean. Writing's just the process--and I love it, enjoy it, have a thing for it--but to me even that's not the heart, not what really matters. What really matters is the meaning, the truth behind the words. When you reach that, puncture through to the real thing, the cream filling--the real deal--when you really understand something important about life and yourself--that's the part that matters. That's what I love. That's realer than writing, or singing, or art or any other passion in the world you could have or think of. I never really can relate when people say their lives are about writing--or art or sports or chocolate or pickle jars, for crying out loud. Whatever it is we have or take it into our heads to love. Sure, I love some of those things, too (not pickles), but it's not my life, and it never could be. What would writing be without the meaning behind the words? For me, writing is about life, not life about writing.

It's been hard because what I really want to do is write and talk and share about my thoughts and beliefs about life. That's my passion. One of them, at least. And I don't have many. It's been hard because I don't know what's the right way, because there seem to be limitations on what I can do and how. But besides that there's the issue of making a living. And not just for myself, but for any future family I might have.

So I'd tentatively settled on Graphic Design as a major because I'm semi-good at it (and I don't hate it and I think it pays pretty well without, hopefully, working yourself to death) and planned/hoped to work my way into the writing field as I was able, free-lance, and see what it came to. So it was settled. Kind of. Actually, settling that has been a saga in itself, what with my continual urge to go back to the writing as a primary career and stick with it. And I'm still not 100% on it, but the more I consider my options the more it seems like the best option out there for me.

Still, I thought I needed History or English to hone my writing skills in the meantime--at least wanted one or both of them--and there was a Spanish minor to consider and things were rapidly getting out of hand to the point that I was going to have five minors and two majors--and that's not even that far off the truth. My advisor pointed out to me I would have my whole life to learn all the skills I could want or need and that's the best way to be--interested in a lot of things and learning till the day you die. So read up on it if you want to know about it and, in the meantime, settle on a slimmer, saner college career path. So there it was. Graphic Design major and Spanish minor. And, after tentatively crossing out my multiple-minors plans, I realized he was right. How much cleaner and more manageable--more possible!--my college road suddenly seemed, with just one major and one minor. And I could give both of them the concentration and focus they deserved and needed.

And for all the other skills and interests I could desire to learn I can acquire over time, with a healthy heaping of life, so that I always remember and continue to hone the thing that matters the most: the part in the middle. And my writing and art and any other hobbies I continue or acquire along the way will be that much better for it, for reflecting the truth that underlies everything we are and do.

Blogging Issues

I changed the template and lost not only my precious few comments but the comment box utility itself. So currently got to sort out what, if anything, I'm going to do about it. What happened was my old template didn't have the comment feature so I had to use Haloscan's. But when I changed templates (to a template that has a built-in comment feature), in a fit of contrariness, it wiped out my comments and refused to deliver on the promised feature. If you know anything about how I can fix it without having to get a completely brand-new blog, please drop me a line. Thanks much.

Also, curently trying to figure out what I'm going to do with this site in general. The painful truth is that, once I opened this site up to my family and friends, the very possibility of them reading many of my thoughts dried up the well inside. I like some of what I've done here, and I'm not giving up on the idea of having stuff online I can actually share with them (!), but a regular, genuine online journal does not seem to be one of those things right now. Perhaps in future I will mature past this obstacle or see things differently but right now I don't believe everybody needs to know everything I'm thinking. Unless they're perfect strangers.

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Murder and Survival

"I don't care what does it: I don't care if it's the tension, the fear, the 'enemy'… it's murder. We are occupied by murderers."

--River

I sat and read her account of the Marine shooting the Iraqi in the Fallujah mosque in horror and could hardly believe it was real. I seriously was thinking, is this real? Could this be made up?

Then I followed the link she provides to Yahoo news' account of it. Apparently, a group of Marines entered a Mosque where some wounded Iraqis had been left behind, argued about whether one was faking death or not, and then shot him.

" 'He's dead now,' a Marine is heard saying...

Sites reported a Marine in the same unit had been killed just a day earlier when he tended to the booby-trapped dead body of an insurgent.

NBC reported that the Marine seen shooting the wounded Iraqi had himself been shot in the face the day before, but quickly returned to duty."

I don't know much about war. Okay, basically nothing. But there are enough clues in that Yahoo article to make me think this is not as simple a case as it sounds. At least for me, when I try to put myself in that Marine's shoes, I don't know what would happen. A lot of people argue that killing is never okay. And, on the surface, their argument makes perfect sense. God made human life sacred; He made us to live, not to kill and be killed.

But can you really say that if someone's being murdered outside your front door, you should do nothing? Spare the murderer because to do otherwise makes you like him? Let him kill, and possibly keep killing?

Now I realize the situation in the mosque is not the same. Here, it's more an issue of your own survival--do you risk it and hope the other guy is friendly or dead or not booby-trapped? It's more than your own survival at stake; it's the survival of the men with you, who's lives are just as valuable as yours and the Iraqi on the ground.

Who's life do you choose?

I'm also not claiming the guy did everything right. He does sound indifferent to death he just caused and he probably is. It's a pretty hard state to avoid if you get into war--not that you shouldn't fight it, resist becoming cold-blooded, but you can pretty well guarantee that it's going to be a continual struggle, a constant danger.

I don't know what the Marine should have done. I don't know what I would have done. I just don't believe it's as simple as murder, or necessarily comparable with a psychopathic killer, as River does.

I will say this. I have no personal experience with war, as I said. In that department, she very definitely wins out over me. I don't know what it is like for her right now, living in the midst of all that. I would think scary beyond belief. I just think there is more to the shooting than she has perhaps considered.

I think Owen West and Phillip Carter have some thought-provoking stuff to say on the subject, especially as regards the Iraqi's killing compared to that of Margaret Hassan.

First love

What I wanted to say was that I was trying to focus on my First Love, but I was afraid it'd come across as holier-than-thou, which is not how I meant it. Honestly, it encourages me to speak in a positive way about what I should be focusing on (even if I'm not doing a great job of focusing on it right now). I think it's a good way to help me refocus.

I've been neglecting Him horribly, and sometimes I feel it. Sometimes I'm too hardhearted for that, admittedly, but sometimes--sometimes--I remember and feel the lack of Him. Miss Him a little bit.

My parents tell me that they want me to get married, that they want a "good" life for me, meaning a married life. They say that I don't seem to think positively enough about my chances of getting married. But honestly, the way I see it, yes, I want to get married, and maybe I'm not "positive enough" about my chances (meaning I'm not absolutely sure it'll happen), but what makes sense to me is to be open to whatever life God gives me, to focus on Him, devote myself to Him and whatever blessings He chooses to add to my life He'll add. That I think is the beauty--and the scariness--of submission. That I give my life up to Him and let Him decide what to give me, let Him decide what's best for me. And then I truly will have a good life, by the only standard that matters.

Am I wrong to think this way? Am I being too idealistic or naive? Maybe, but I think I'm also right. Idealism and naivete are not always off-track. Sometimes there's a reason for them, at least for the idealism. God wants His best for us, and the world may think it's idealistic, but God is a God of perfection, no? Of ideals, you might say. If anyone can reach the ideal--true perfection--He can.

And He can, because He is.
(Matt 6:25-34)

Trying Those Legs Out

"...there comes a time when you have to see, if only for a few hours, whether it's true, what you think, whether your child has more strength than he himself knows."

I wonder if this isn't how God feels, those times when he lets us stumble and fall down, get up, and try those legs out again.

Unlike Mommy, he never has to leave our side.

Read the whole thing, if you get the chance. It's lovely.