I like Soviet Hypnosis...erm, I mean Tetris.
It's simple, sleek, and oh so maddening at times. I don't play it on a consistent basis, but every once in a while, I get the bug to play.
As a few of you know, I also have a lot of trouble sleeping sometimes. This week was one of the roughest patches of sleeplessness I've ever had. I'd try to go to sleep around midnight, but my body said, "Um, no, I want to sleep later--preferably around dawn, please." So there I was in the middle of the night multiple times this week like that nasty cat that howls and rummages through the trash in your neighborhood in the middle of the night--well, without the rummaging and the nastiness.
Guess what I did during all those waking hours?
So I played Tetris--a lot. As the exhausting, but waking, hours passed, my fingers flew over the arrow keys faster than people rushing into Wal-Mart for the "After Thanksgiving Day Sale." As the bricks fell and clicked into place by my command, my mind started putting together insights and ideas related to the game. Ironically, some of the very same advice I would give to another Tetris player after hours of gleaned experience and skill, would be some of the very same advice and general principles I'd give to you, my fellow friends, on this journey called life. I would like to share them with you:
1. Pay Attention to the Details- It is very easy to make little mistakes that will have huge consequences for you in the game. One wrong placement of a piece does have the power to destroy the game. How can one loose attention to the details? I've found I lost attention when either I was moving too fast and rushing, or when I became unfocused and let my mind wander too far away from the task at hand. When I rushed, I would accidently place a piece in the incorrect position. When my mind wandered, I often didn't pay attention to see if the piece and the space I wished to put it were indeed matches.
We often hear such phrases as "don't get caught up in the details." There is merit to that. There is also merit in paying attention to the small moments in life as well. Many small moments added up together will make the sum of something. Don't discredit the small everyday moments too easily. Don't rush through them like a quick task to be checked off the list. Don't absentmindedly go through the motions without a thought in the world.
2. Be Decisive- This is especially important when playing the higher levels of Tetris. As you level up, the speed increases. By level 10, you're practically flying at light speed. (You could make the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs!) You have to make a decision and quickly. You can't keep turning the piece trying to find the best option. You need make a choice and stick with it.
In real life, we often have the luxury of taking the time to weigh the options carefully and choose the best option. If you have the time, absolutely do so. The life principle I'd like to share though is that we have to make choices at some time. We cannot constantly live in a state of indecision. Each decision is unique and has various consequences and rewards. Each important decision needs to be weighed and considered in its own timing carefully with prayer and wise counsel. Just keep in mind that decision cannot be suspended forever, for the most part.
3. Your Greatest Mistakes Can Become Your Greatest Victories- There was no good way to shorten that principle. There is power in that sentence--YOUR GREATEST MISTAKES CAN BECOME YOUR GREATEST VICTORIES. On the version of Tetris I play (freetetris.org,) my highest score is around 57,000 while my average score is around 30,000--quite a difference. The interesting thing about my highest score is that during that game, I remember making a lot of careless mistakes right in a row, and I thought that I had mucked up the game pretty badly. I was a millisecond away from reloading the internet page and starting over. For some reason, I changed my mind and decided to stick with it. So I wiggled my butt in my computer chair and stuck my face right up into the monitor. I diligently placed the pieces as they flew down at warp speed (level 12). Before I knew it, I had worked my way out of the hole I created, and I was flourishing. What I also started to notice is that the horribly placed pieces were actually now the perfect placement for the new pieces I was receiving. Those "horribly placed pieces" became the structure upon which I built my victory.
With a little stubborn persistence and an unwillingness to give up, it is possible to turn things around. If you refuse to give up, you can overcome. (Now, there is a big different between "refusing to give up" on something and "letting go" of something. That'll be another blog for another day, perhaps.)
One of my favorite Bible verses (though I do like all 31,102 of them,) is Romans 8:28. It says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." God is a generous God. He gave all humanity its life and breath. He causes the sun to shine and the rain to fall upon all--righteous or not. Romans 8:28 is a promise only to believers, the children of God, the ones who love Him. All things--the good, the bad, and the ugly, will be brought together under His control and guidance to create something good. Under the mighty power and sovereign hand of God almighty, God is working on behalf of His children as a loving father would. Through the power of God, YOUR GREATEST MISTAKES CAN BECOME YOUR GREATEST VICTORIES!
Be encouraged today, and try not to play too much Tetris!
Monday, June 27, 2016
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Drag Racing, a battle with 6 year old
Expat life can be lonely.
Whoever tells you it isn't is either lying through their teeth, been in a foreign country for less than three weeks, or completely psychotic.
Today was one of those days--one of those days that it gets to you. Life is happening all around you, and yet, you are not a part of it. Conversations and laughter fill the air, yet you are passing between the bubbles of other people's life and space.
On days like this, I like to get out on my road bike and pound out the frustration. Pedaling like I'm being chased by a pack of zombies, weaving between obstacles (people), and flying up to 40kmh does tend to release the physical tension one holds up in the body. But today, it wasn't really working.
I would hear bits of conversation hanging upon the wind as I passed. "같이 가요!" (Let's go together!) No, Amy, that's not for you. You can't go with them. I would see people waving, but it was to someone else--not to me. I was a foreign object in a foreign land. Those are the days when it is lonely.
Riding back home was a little slower. The wind was blowing directly against me, and I was tired. Plus the previously mentioned things were on my mind. Cycling is such a mental task. I can't even describe it. Perhaps another blog for another day.
Soon, I came up behind a little boy pedaling away on his tiny bicycle. His knobby knees, covered with pads, bowed out as he diligently completed his mission. I'm guessing he was about 6, possibly seven years old.
I have a road bike (the one with the skinny little tires and the curled handles,) and it is actually a bit difficult to ride slowly on them. I was going to have to pass him. I courteously rang my bell to warn him of my approach, and I slowed down to pass him. As is the custom, I bowed my head in respect to greet this fellow cyclist. Then I sped up and continued on my way.
Very soon, I came to a small park where people were walking back and forth along the bike/walking trail. I was going to have to slow down or take someone out of commission. Suddenly, I started hearing the sound of furious pedaling and the turning of gears. I looked over my shoulder. The little boy I passed a minute before was now on my right side and pedaling like there was no tomorrow. I'm entirely sure what he was up to, but I rolled with it (no pun intended, but it works nicely.) I frantically looked back and forth between his bike and mine. He grinned widely. We just became competitors in an epic battle of speed and determination. I kept the race at a tie the best I could for the few meters we could race. He had to slow down and stop or otherwise hit a grandma and a set of workout equipment. (Smart kid. In Korea, if you hit a grandma, they'll hit you back for sure. Much scarier than smashing into the workout equipment.)
As I kept flying by, I waved goodbye to my honorable competitor. Though I don't know who you are or if I will ever see you again, or if we would even remember one another if we did happen to meet again, I want to say "thank you." You made my day a little less lonely.
I'll race with you anytime, kid.
Whoever tells you it isn't is either lying through their teeth, been in a foreign country for less than three weeks, or completely psychotic.
Today was one of those days--one of those days that it gets to you. Life is happening all around you, and yet, you are not a part of it. Conversations and laughter fill the air, yet you are passing between the bubbles of other people's life and space.
On days like this, I like to get out on my road bike and pound out the frustration. Pedaling like I'm being chased by a pack of zombies, weaving between obstacles (people), and flying up to 40kmh does tend to release the physical tension one holds up in the body. But today, it wasn't really working.
I would hear bits of conversation hanging upon the wind as I passed. "같이 가요!" (Let's go together!) No, Amy, that's not for you. You can't go with them. I would see people waving, but it was to someone else--not to me. I was a foreign object in a foreign land. Those are the days when it is lonely.
Riding back home was a little slower. The wind was blowing directly against me, and I was tired. Plus the previously mentioned things were on my mind. Cycling is such a mental task. I can't even describe it. Perhaps another blog for another day.
Soon, I came up behind a little boy pedaling away on his tiny bicycle. His knobby knees, covered with pads, bowed out as he diligently completed his mission. I'm guessing he was about 6, possibly seven years old.
I have a road bike (the one with the skinny little tires and the curled handles,) and it is actually a bit difficult to ride slowly on them. I was going to have to pass him. I courteously rang my bell to warn him of my approach, and I slowed down to pass him. As is the custom, I bowed my head in respect to greet this fellow cyclist. Then I sped up and continued on my way.
Very soon, I came to a small park where people were walking back and forth along the bike/walking trail. I was going to have to slow down or take someone out of commission. Suddenly, I started hearing the sound of furious pedaling and the turning of gears. I looked over my shoulder. The little boy I passed a minute before was now on my right side and pedaling like there was no tomorrow. I'm entirely sure what he was up to, but I rolled with it (no pun intended, but it works nicely.) I frantically looked back and forth between his bike and mine. He grinned widely. We just became competitors in an epic battle of speed and determination. I kept the race at a tie the best I could for the few meters we could race. He had to slow down and stop or otherwise hit a grandma and a set of workout equipment. (Smart kid. In Korea, if you hit a grandma, they'll hit you back for sure. Much scarier than smashing into the workout equipment.)
As I kept flying by, I waved goodbye to my honorable competitor. Though I don't know who you are or if I will ever see you again, or if we would even remember one another if we did happen to meet again, I want to say "thank you." You made my day a little less lonely.
I'll race with you anytime, kid.
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
30, a number
30 is just a number, right?
Well, let's think about this for a moment. What kind of expectations did I have for reaching the age of 30 when I was in my twenties? Let me paint a word picture for you.
By the time I hit 30, I should have accomplished these things and likely a little extra because, you know, life is full of surprises: have a Ph.D. in something because Ph.D.'s are a mark of high intelligence and success. While earning the Ph.D., I should have had the time to meet the perfect husband and produce at least 2.3 offspring by now, along with adopting a few. Planting a church would have definitely checked off the Great Commission requirement outlined in Matthew 28. In my free time, I should have written one of the many novels that have been bouncing around my head since I was a young teen. I also should have had time to finish earning my black belt in Taekwondo since I was so close anyway and of course I am the model of excellent health at the age of 30. Of course, I would be working at a job that I love which has no conflicts, complications, or annoying circumstances, and it fulfills every need I have for self-expression, creativity, and altruism.
Maybe some of your are starting to think that the above paragraph was part of some fantasy novel that I was going to write. No, those were/are some of the expectations I had set for myself at various points in my twenties. Naturally, you'd expect with those expectations that I'd be having a meltdown right about now since my 30th birthday is tomorrow. Surprisingly, I'm not.
If I were to compare the expectation to the reality, it would be a far cry in some cases. I stopped after my master's degree because I was tired and financially strained, the perfect husband has a poor sense of direction and navigational skills--he hasn't found me yet, definitely haven't planted a church, most of my writing projects have not left the research phase, the ankle brace on my right leg reminds me of my human frailties, and don't even get me started on being an educator in a foreign country.
So why am I not upset? Ultimately, I suppose that the last decade has taught me something really important. Good things take time, and the things I desire are good things. They are not mere lines on a checklist to be checked, conquered, and forgotten. Life is to be savored, not rushed through. Life is to be explored, unfolded, and examined from all sides. Life is not a game to be won but an experience of which to be a part.
If my experience takes a little longer, so be it. I'm still here.
P.S: Perfect husband, I live in South Korea--pretty close to the capital. Get a move on it!
Monday, June 20, 2016
Shameless, a working title
"So why is this thing called Shameless?" you may ask.
I am so very glad that you asked. (Let's pretend that you did, even if you didn't.)
Well, it started with me feeling ashamed of myself. Imagine that. I'll explain more about that down below, but the whole experience perhaps is what finally gave me the swift kick in the rear to actually do this blogging thing. All I know is that I want to start having the conversation about the things that burn in my heart.
I want to start the conversation, the prayer, and the change that is necessary to keep moving forward and to find what my heart so desperately seeks.
So anyway, before I digress,
The other day, I was at a lovely park in Seoul with some friends. The air was warm and the sun burning high up in the sky, but the breeze and shade of the nearby structures gave us comfort. The conversation was good and the snacks were plenty. It seemed to be one of those perfect days, that is, until a beggar woman had the audacity to come up to us.
It wasn't anything that I haven't seen before. After all, I live in one of the biggest cities in the entire world and have traveled to plenty of others with the same thing. She carried a large tray of gimbap rolls and was selling them to people relaxing at the park that day.
There is something you need to know about gimbap--you NEVER want gimbap that has been sitting out too long or has been out in the sun. (Well, unless you have a big test the next day and need to induce food poisoning.) Besides having stuffed ourselves with plenty of other snacks, our group wasn't interested in buying any gimbap.
And that's when she showed us her hand, or lack thereof. Her left hand was missing--whether by birth defect, accident, or trauma, I couldn't tell. She asked again if we would buy some food from her because she needed money.
And that is where I feel I failed. I wanted to do something, but I did not. There were plenty of reasons to stay put and keep quiet, and so I did. My heart screamed at me to do something, but I did not. I let her walk away.
What burns in my heart the most is that her physical condition and reality mirrors our spiritual condition. One day, I will turn up at the throne of Heaven, maimed and marred, begging. I will beg for salvation from God, having absolutely nothing to offer Him but shamelessly asking Him to love and forgive me through His Son, Jesus Christ. I am angry with myself for not appreciating the mercy that God has bestowed upon me enough. I am angry choosing to stay seated and silent instead of choosing to extend mercy and grace.
Two passages of scripture that come to mind are Luke 11:5-13 and Luke 18:1-8. Both passages have people asking for things, pretty shamelessly. They should be ashamed (at least society says they should be) yet Jesus says to be like them. We are to shamelessly go before God to get what we need. The woman in the park shamelessly came before me to ask for what she needed. I pray that I always remember the connection between what I saw in this woman and the reality of my life before God.
I hope we all can remember that.
Let's be Shameless together.
I am so very glad that you asked. (Let's pretend that you did, even if you didn't.)
Well, it started with me feeling ashamed of myself. Imagine that. I'll explain more about that down below, but the whole experience perhaps is what finally gave me the swift kick in the rear to actually do this blogging thing. All I know is that I want to start having the conversation about the things that burn in my heart.
I want to start the conversation, the prayer, and the change that is necessary to keep moving forward and to find what my heart so desperately seeks.
So anyway, before I digress,
The other day, I was at a lovely park in Seoul with some friends. The air was warm and the sun burning high up in the sky, but the breeze and shade of the nearby structures gave us comfort. The conversation was good and the snacks were plenty. It seemed to be one of those perfect days, that is, until a beggar woman had the audacity to come up to us.
It wasn't anything that I haven't seen before. After all, I live in one of the biggest cities in the entire world and have traveled to plenty of others with the same thing. She carried a large tray of gimbap rolls and was selling them to people relaxing at the park that day.
There is something you need to know about gimbap--you NEVER want gimbap that has been sitting out too long or has been out in the sun. (Well, unless you have a big test the next day and need to induce food poisoning.) Besides having stuffed ourselves with plenty of other snacks, our group wasn't interested in buying any gimbap.
And that's when she showed us her hand, or lack thereof. Her left hand was missing--whether by birth defect, accident, or trauma, I couldn't tell. She asked again if we would buy some food from her because she needed money.
And that is where I feel I failed. I wanted to do something, but I did not. There were plenty of reasons to stay put and keep quiet, and so I did. My heart screamed at me to do something, but I did not. I let her walk away.
What burns in my heart the most is that her physical condition and reality mirrors our spiritual condition. One day, I will turn up at the throne of Heaven, maimed and marred, begging. I will beg for salvation from God, having absolutely nothing to offer Him but shamelessly asking Him to love and forgive me through His Son, Jesus Christ. I am angry with myself for not appreciating the mercy that God has bestowed upon me enough. I am angry choosing to stay seated and silent instead of choosing to extend mercy and grace.
Two passages of scripture that come to mind are Luke 11:5-13 and Luke 18:1-8. Both passages have people asking for things, pretty shamelessly. They should be ashamed (at least society says they should be) yet Jesus says to be like them. We are to shamelessly go before God to get what we need. The woman in the park shamelessly came before me to ask for what she needed. I pray that I always remember the connection between what I saw in this woman and the reality of my life before God.
I hope we all can remember that.
Let's be Shameless together.
Catharsis, a beginning.
Okay, so here we go.
Sometimes it feels like I do things on a whim, but really, it's not like that at all. The things I do on a "whim" or on a moment's notice are actually the things that have been on my heart for a long time. So when the iron is hot and I strike fast with the fury of a thousand hammers (which is pretty typical of my personality,) my inner voice pauses for a moment and says, "Are we really doing this?" That is when my heart smiles and says, "Yes. Yes, we are."
That was my artistic attempt at explaining why I've started a blog. Really though, I've just got a lot of words inside this soul and no place for them to go sometimes. Before I go on, I have to share a Greek with you--katharizo (καθαρίζω.) It's a verb meaning "I cleanse or purify." It's used in the New Testament in both a physical and spiritual sense. I saw it the other day when reading over some Greek in Matthew. It's the word used when Jesus cleanses the leperous man in chapter 8.
Our word catharsis has an etymological relationship with katharizo. Today's catharsis carries the idea of purging or emotional release, but it is easy to see the connection between cleansing and purifying the heart and soul through purging and emotional release.
I hope this blog can do just that. I pray that as I let the words of my heart pour out, they may bring me a cleansing release, and I pray that others too may ride those currents of thought and emotion and come to their own place of release under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
So what's this blog going to be about? Well, probably the serious, the strange, and the seriously strange. Whatever wells up in my heart between entry to entry.
Sometimes it feels like I do things on a whim, but really, it's not like that at all. The things I do on a "whim" or on a moment's notice are actually the things that have been on my heart for a long time. So when the iron is hot and I strike fast with the fury of a thousand hammers (which is pretty typical of my personality,) my inner voice pauses for a moment and says, "Are we really doing this?" That is when my heart smiles and says, "Yes. Yes, we are."
That was my artistic attempt at explaining why I've started a blog. Really though, I've just got a lot of words inside this soul and no place for them to go sometimes. Before I go on, I have to share a Greek with you--katharizo (καθαρίζω.) It's a verb meaning "I cleanse or purify." It's used in the New Testament in both a physical and spiritual sense. I saw it the other day when reading over some Greek in Matthew. It's the word used when Jesus cleanses the leperous man in chapter 8.
Our word catharsis has an etymological relationship with katharizo. Today's catharsis carries the idea of purging or emotional release, but it is easy to see the connection between cleansing and purifying the heart and soul through purging and emotional release.
I hope this blog can do just that. I pray that as I let the words of my heart pour out, they may bring me a cleansing release, and I pray that others too may ride those currents of thought and emotion and come to their own place of release under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
So what's this blog going to be about? Well, probably the serious, the strange, and the seriously strange. Whatever wells up in my heart between entry to entry.
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