backpacks and yogurt

it’s amazing how one little thing can throw your day off

every wednesday afternoon i get together with pastor mark right after i get out of work. the ulterior motive is to plan for the upcoming week’s sunday school class (brief sidenote: i was walking past a seventh day adventist church today, and noticed on their sign that they have “sabbath school” at 9:30. i suppose “saturday school” doesn’t sound any better, but even so, it struck me as slightly humorous), but in reality we usually end up eating donuts, drinking coffee and talking about any number of things for the majority of the time, until the lateness of the hour forces the issue and we buckle down and get to work. anyhow, i usually try and remember to bring this giant notebook that the covenant church provides for use with confirmation classes with me; it's filled with great ideas and study guides and all sorts of helpful advice. unfortunately, it’s so filled with goodness that it causeth my backpack to runneth over. so, i decided to upgrad to my larger backpack for the day. no big deal, except...

i had to transfer everything (key word: everything) from my regular, every-day, and slightly smaller bag, to my larger, more capacious backpack

i’m a man of routine: i get up at the same time every morning, have the same morning regimen, and usually pack the same food items for my workday sustenance:

• two (2) Clif Bars, randomly selected from a grocery bag filled with an assortment of flavors
• one (1) banana
• one (1) “Breyers Smart! with DHA OMEGA-3 Fruit on the Bottom Boost your Brain, All Natural Yogurt, also randomly selected out of the fridge. (i’m slightly skeptical about it’s ability to “boost my brain,” but it is one of the last yogurts to have real, honest-to-goodness chunks of fruit in it, which i love. especially if they’re blueberries. also, judging by the pictures on their website, i'm clearly not part of their target demographic)

in order to safely and efficiently eat the yogurt, i have a special yogurt spoon which i keep in my bag, and carefully clean off after each use:

(ok, i’m not going to lie: i lick it clean and wipe it off on my shirt sleeve. satisfied?)

so, or course, i forgot the spoon, leaving it at home in my abandoned backpack:

by the time i realized i was working sans spoon, i was too far afield to consider driving home to retrieve it. i suppose the rational thing to do at that point would have been either (a. procure a spoon from the nearby grocery store (this would most likely entail visiting their salad bar), or (b. eat the yogurt without the spoon

instead, i chose the third option, which was (c. think deep and dark thoughts about how my life is ruined now that i don't have a spoon for my yogurt. not only that, but EVERY YOGURT that i've EVER EATEN while at this job has been consumed with the aid of my sacred yogurt spoon. the blood of a thousand berries and cream of a hundred cows has filled its bowl, and i do it the dishonor of leaving it behind? what a moron


fortunately, my moment of discontent soon passed. i'll spare you the details of how i managed to finally do away with the yogurt (ok, i lied, i won't spare you the details: i drank most of it right out of the cup, and then used a pen i found in the truck to sort of scrape off the sides and get every last bit i could into my mouth), but what left an impression in my mind was how quickly i allowed myself to become upset and discontent over such a small matter


how many times have i fallen into this trap before? more than i'd care to admit


it's so easy to think and say: "my current situation in life is not good enough. i expect, no, i demand better." bigger houses. more clothes. faster cars. higher-definition televisions. thinner bodies. quieter appliances. more efficient furnaces. smaller mp3 players. "bigger and better than ever before!" you know the drill


it's a far cry from what i know to be true... "if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content." (1 Tim. 6:8).


nowhere in the bible do i find mention of "sacred yogurt spoons" being needed to go about my daily life. or, quite frankly, many other things which i would tend to label as "necessities." henry thoreau makes the point in walden that much of what we deem as being essential is really superfluous; the true necessities are "Food, Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel; for not till we have secured these are we prepared to entertain the true problems of life."

chances are you have all four of those things, and quite a bit more to boot. i know i do. so why do i still worry about my yogurt spoon, instead of devoting my mental faculties towards more meaningful ends?



now that's the million-dollar question

i'm no arachnaphobe, but...

last week, a spider bit me on my ankle while i was sleeping. it got all swollen and nasty and oozed disgusting fluids for three days (my ankle, not the spider), but now it's all better (thankfully!). this is an open letter to that spider, should it happen to read this:



dear spider that lives somewhere in my room,

i have nothing against spiders. in fact, i generally tend to think of you and your friends as welcome members on planet earth. i despise mosquitoes and other flying, biting insects, and they happen to be the very sort of creature that you enjoy for dinner. so i'd like to think that we can enjoy a sort of symbiotic relationship: we both can kill all of the mosquitoes, black flies, fruit flies, or even ants that we want to, as long as we look out for each other.

you had to go and ruin that, didn't you?

it would be one thing if i came close to stepping on you, or threatened one of your children, or initiated some other appreciably traumatic encounter. but no... you, for some unknown reason, felt the need to crawl under my covers, WHILE I WAS SLEEPING, and bite me near my ankle.

not cool.

did i do something to offend you? was it something i said? next time, just let me know, and perhaps we can work out our differences without resorting to biting. you're a spider; you should know that i am way too big too kill, even with your most potent brew of venom, and even if you wanted to chew on some man-flesh, i am far from succulent. your eight beady eyes should certainly have been able to deduce, even under the cover of night, that my skin is hardened and tough, not at all sweet and tender.

i'll chalk this whole series of events up to a simple understanding. you made a mistake... i can let it slide

but should you ever dare gnaw on my leg again, let me remind you of my reaction to some distant relatives of yours who also thought they could attack me in my sleep:




and, the retaliation:





so next time you have a case of the midnight munchies, look elsewhere for your late night snack. otherwise, our previously amicable relationship will take a turn for the worse, and i will hunt you down and kill you


yours truly,

patrick




(videos from the '05 road trip... you can read more about it here, or you can watch stupid short videos from it here. or not. whatever.)

titles are for the british

most days, i love my job. i love being outdoors, being active, and having some quality time to myself. most days i realize how lucky i am to have the job that i do, and i relish every moment of every day

some days, however, are slightly harder to enjoy. days when it's 32.001 degrees outside, with a howling wind determined to thrash your entire body with ice-cold needles of rain. i don't mind being cold, and i don't particularly mind being wet, but being cold and wet is a combination that can send me over the edge into despair. fortunately, we have some heavy-duty rain gear available for us to use at the water district. i broke it out for the first time last week... not because it hadn't been cold or rainy before that point, but it was the first time they had teamed up on the same day so far this fall

the rain gear is designed with two purposes in mind: to make you invincible to the elements, and to make you visible to everyone. it is thick, heavy, completely non-porous (it's like the opposite of gore-tex: guaranteed to keep the weather out, but you just may drown in your own perspiration), and bright, rubber-ducky yellow. it makes you look like you're a giant, humanoid, walking/talking banana. i hadn't dared to wear it previously, knowing that being as readily inclined to perspiration as i usually am, there was a distinct possibility that i might actually sweat to death. so i was sort of looking forward to the appropriate time to use the rain gear, in a morbid sort of way...


that is, until i actually did get to use it



it kept me mostly dry, and i stayed warm. those are both good things. but the gear fit me so poorly that the pants didn't come down quite to the tops of my boots, which somehow made the already comical outfit even more rediculous looking. and the hood on the rain jacket wouldn't stay on my head, as it blew backwards everytime i faced into the wind (which was quite often)

plus, i looked like a giant banana.


the best (worst?) part was towards the end of the day... it had been raining buckets all morning long, but just about an hour before the end of my shift, it stopped. suddenly. and the sun came out. good news, right? not if you're a mile from the truck, and you're stuck wearing the banana suit the whole walk back

if you're wearing rain gear in the rain, you look ready. prepared. hardcore. but if you're wearing rain gear when the sun is out, you look...

weird.

crazy.

perhaps even slightly maniacal.


all i know is, i got some strange looks. i wanted to make a sign and paste it on my back: "it was raining when i put it on!"


there's probably a moral in that story somewhere, but for the life of me i'm not sure where. oh well.




and.... i was going to put a couple of pictures here, but it's taking way too long to upload them since the connection keeps flaking out. so just use your imagination. as for me, i'm going to take a nap.

the holidays are here

thanksgiving has come and gone. i love thanksgiving for many reasons, but perhaps the greatest singular advantage is has over other holidays in my mind is the pure simplicity which still surround it. we don’t buy thanksgiving presents, send thanksgiving cards, have thanksgiving-eve services at church, have thanksgiving cookouts at the beach, shoot off thanksgiving fireworks, or anything like that. nope... we (i’ll presumptuously speak for all of the united states here) simply visit friends and family, eat a lot of turkey, assorted vegetables, and pie(s), and perhaps watch some football. that’s it. the consumerist aspect of the holiday is entirely concentrated within the realm of food purchases for the thanksgiving feast... which, the sin of gluttony aside, is not nearly as far removed from providing from our basic needs as the shamrockery (it’s a new word: a combination of ‘sham,’ ‘mockery,’ and ‘shamrock’) which christmas has sadly become

speaking of christmas: i highly recommend visiting adventconspiracy.org before you go out and do your christmas shopping for the year. even if you don’t agree, it’s a thought worth considering

also on the must-visit list for websites is freerice.com. now, lest you succumb to the delusion that you are actually providing vast quantities of rice for malnourished people around the world, let me quickly put a damper on that assumption. on average, a pound of rice is made up of 29,000 grains, so if you do the math it would take you quite a while to “donate” even that fairly miniscule amount of rice. however, the website is a great way to waste time... errr... to boost your vocabulary, and feel slightly productive while doing so. so i recommend it for those reasons

it bothers me slightly when the christian community mobilizes its forces to preserve the “sanctity of marriage.” it seems that we’ve already missed the boat; if we truly cared about the sanctity of marriage, between one man and one woman, wouldn’t that be reflected in our lifestyles? sure, gay marriage may still be taboo in most congregations, but where is our outrage over divorce? infidelity? adultery? when was the last time you heard of a tv network being boycotted because a majority of the characters on it’s prime time programs had been previously divorced?

everyone knows that a marriage between two professing christians is every bit as likely (and, depending on what report you look at, perhaps even slightly more likely) to end in divorce as a marriage between non-believers. shouldn’t this ginormous problem within the church be the focus of our efforts and the center of our struggle before we begin trying to convince the world that yeah, we’re pretty serious about this marriage thing?

maybe our time, money, and energies would be better spent on repairing, preserving, and sustaining marriages that already exist. maybe the couple across the street from us needs some encouragement. maybe i can stay in touch with that friend from college who just got married, and pray for him and his new family. maybe i can pay for some counseling for a couple i know who desperately needs it but can’t afford it. maybe...

maybe i don’t know what i’m talking about

whatever the case, it’s a thought that occurred to me earlier this week, and i thought i’d pass it along. feedback is welcome, as always

fun football fact for the week: the new england patriots have a chance to become the first team ever to go undefeated, win the superbowl, AND have the rights to the first overall draft pick the following year...

ahh, it’s good to be a sports fan in new england these days

26? me? no way

so, i'm older. somehow it feels like the years are exponentially increasing in their ability to relegate me to "old man" status. sure, 26 still sounds young... until you realize that you're closer to 30 than you are to 20. yikes. 25 can still be considered "early 20's" if you spin it the right way, but at 26, there's no denying it... it's middle-twenties at best, late-twenties at worst

sometimes i try and imagine what it would like to be young again, and to meet my present self. would i be happy with how i turned out? would i be excited to learn what i would have done, where i would have gone, who i would have for friends? i think i would. in some ways, i've accomplished next to nothing during my time on earth; i still don't have a "real" job, i'm about eight zillion light years away from owning a house, i don't even have a car (or a moped for that matter... dangit) and i only recently finished my undergraduate degree after cramming four years of college into seven years of life. but, on the other hand, i've done a fair bit of traveling. i've gone skydiving. i have an amazing assortment of friends scattered across the globe. i've learned how to surf. it's hard to contrast and compare different paths and experiences... would i have had a better life if i had gotten a great job right out of college, gotten married right away and bought a house which now housed two children? who knows. all i know is, i wouldn't trade the life i've lived for any other one...


(not that i could, but you get the point)


i've been doing a considerable amount of pondering and praying recently as to what the rest of my life should look like. the questions aren't new: "where should i live? what should i do for work? what does God want of me?" but for the first time, i think i know the answer. and it's not surprising... at least, it shouldn't have been, but it was/is nonetheless. rather than try and articulate it myself, i'm including the following quote from a book by Henri Nouwen. he was in the process of trying to decide whether he was being called to minister in latin america when he came to the following realization/conclusion:


"Today, I realized that the question of where to live and what to do is really insignificant compared to the question of how to keep the eyes of my heart focused on the Lord. I can be teaching at Yale, working in the bakery at Genesee Abbey, or walking around with poor children in Peru and feel totally useless, miserable, and depressed in all these situations. I am sure of it, because it has happened. There is not such a thing as the right place or the right job. I can be happy and unhappy in all situations. I am sure of it, because I have been. I have felt joyful in situations of abundance as well as poverty, in situations of popularity and anonymity, in situations of success and failure. The difference was never based on the situation itself, but always on my state of mind and heart. When I knew that I was walking with the Lord, I always felt happy and at peace. When I was entangled in my own complaints and emotional needs, I always felt restless and divided. It is a simple truth that comes to me at a time when I have to decide about my future. Coming to Lima or not for five, ten, or twenty years is no great decision. Turning fully, unconditionally, and without fear to the Lord is. I am sure this awareness sets me free to look around here without much worrying and binds me to the holy call to pray unceasingly."




wait a second: don't just skim/skip over that rather lengthy quote: it's worth reading in it's entirety. take your time... there's no hurry


(done? good)

i think most christians know that... but i don't think we (or, at least, i... i'll speak for myself here) fully comprehend how deep and true it is. the will of God for me is to walk with the Lord. that's it. everything else is secondary. while he does care what we do, where we live, and all that jazz, it will all fall into place if we are first and foremost seeking after God, and walking with him


i wrote the following over the summer while i was contemplating the same theme... it's nowhere near as eloquent as Nouwen puts it, and i failed to internalize what i was writing at the time, but looking back at it now it rings truer than i realized at the time...


sometimes i wish for a
profound revelation,
a signpost in the sky that points me
towards the life meant to be

sometimes i hope for
and angel to whisper in my ear,
turn my shoulders and guide me
towards God

sometimes i long for
a letter, which would read
something like this:

"dear You;
work here,
marry her,
travel there,
follow this path.
signed, God."

but the mailbox is empty
every time i check

then one day the thought occured,
what if my vision
of wisdom
is slightly blurred?
maybe God wants me to live,
wants me to choose,
wants me to use
what i already know to give
powerful meaning to the choices i make,
places i go,
people i date

maybe he wants me to grow up,
stop talking,
start walking

maybe God likes it when i

just

do

something.

perhaps i already know God's will;
it's to love
and to live
a life in which sin has already been killed.
a life which is focused
on loving God,
and others much more
than even myself

everything else falls into place
once i realize my call
and follow my Lord,
my all in all


in other news... the surf session last weekend was great. the waves were a little out of my league (consistently overhead sets, with some double-overhead sets rolling in), but it was great to be out in the water once again. poseidon worked me over pretty good on a few monsters that i foolishly tried to catch, but i did manage to snake in a couple decent rides in spite of the crazy-big conditions and over-crowded water. who ever would have thought that the ocean in maine in NOVEMBER would be a popular place to be, but apparently surfing is becoming increasingly popular in the north. there were a few canucks in the water, which was slightly disconcerting. their motto: "Canadians: now here year-round!" great


and on that note, it's time for my second supper.... adios

storm's brewing...

i'm getting excited... we've got a huge storm rolling in later this afternoon/tonight which is supposed to kick up some seriously large swell for tomorrow. my mom is graciously allowing me to borrow her van tomorrow afternoon, so i should be able to get some surfing in for the first time in a looong time. i'm almost antsy with anticipation. let me offer this piece of advice: don't ever learn to surf. not because it isn't fun, or thrilling, or exhilarating, or even a spiritual experience, because it is all of those and more... but it's also incredibly addictive. i'm not even very good at surfing, but it's still managed to sink it's enticing lures into my dreams and desires. it's like that verse in song of solomon that recommends to "not arouse or awaken love until it so desires." don't ever start surfing unless you can keep doing it with something bordering on regularity. that's my word of wisdom for the day

my roommate and i went kayaking almost every day after work this week. the weather was great, and we were trying to take advantage of the last week before the time change (sidenote: is daylight savings time beginning or ending? and why do we still observe this arcane practice of screwing with our sleep schedules twice a year? i think the whole thing is rediculous). yesterday we kayaked down the spurwink river and out beyond the mouth to a small little island which lay a little ways out in the ocean. it was gorgeous... we saw several great blue herons, countless ducks and other assorted waterfowl, and one fairly gregarious harbor seal. but the best sight of all was the sunset... oh sweet heavens. watching the sun set over the land from the ocean was a perfect capstone to a great day and a superb week. adding to the specialness of the event was the knowledge that it would probably be our last time out kayaking this year... the water is getting a little cold to be safely paddling without wetsuits, and the shortening of the afternoon daylight hours available means that our almost ritualistic post-work paddles won't be possible anymore. ah well... it's been a great run

every time i'm in the portland public library (which i am right now), there's a slightly eccentric person who sits at the same table and has this enormous stamp collection that he appears to be sorting through. i'm not sure what he does with his stamps exactly... he appears to just be arranging and rearranging them into giant squares of stamps. intriguing.

i FINALLY got my "official" uniforms for work earlier this week. i was pretty stoked... right up until i put the pants on. they fit o.k., but they feel like they were made from inexpensive burlap. not even nice burlap, but really crappy, junky, scruffy burlap. the kind that chafes your thighs when you walk, which is exactly what the pants did to me. the first day wasn't too bad, but the next day it started to get downright painful to walk. so i said to myself, "forget this, i'm not wearing the worst pair of pants in the history of the world even if someone else does wash them for me," and went home and changed into my own pants. much better. i plan on never wearing the pants from hades ever again if it can be helped

i was actually getting resentful about the pants. i kept thinking to myself, "after all the hard work i do and have done, this is the reward i get? the worst pants ever? gee, thanks for nothing." then i realized the trap i was falling into... should i necessarily expect free pants? no, i suppose not. but because they were provided, i automatically assumed that i then had a right to free pants. and from that position, i leaped to the assumption that i was due not only free pants, but free pants that were comfortable to wear. if all i had been told was that i would be getting some shirts, a sweater, a few t-shirts and a jacket, would i have been happy? no... i would have been thrilled to death. so perhaps my attitude shouldn't be one of discontent because the pants are horrible, but one of thankfulness that i even got pants at all, not to mention some other assorted items of clothing


it's all about perspective. and, admittedly, i usually look at things the wrong way. but i'm trying to change that.



"never look a gift horse in the mouth?" too arcane and outdated. thus i propose the following in it's place: "don't expect free pants to fit."