on loving people first

-leading a child in love
-cannot speak wisdoms too early
-to be patient, truly patient, through the foolishness

--

sometimes the right way to love someone isn't to speak a truth to them that they cannot yet understand; it is to comfort them to their whims, while occasionally challenging them to grow. perhaps that is love. perhaps this is God's design - to challenge humanity to rise out of our sin, discovering christ and falling away and discovering him again in new ways.

what beautiful swish of sacred words delicately pat this night-time sky
can these words ever last longer than a wash of my eyes, one night

how delicate and great and wise we see

what strength God has to love others well
truly divine

it really is between me and God - as I lean on Him in my relationships with others
for who else can possibly know me? certainly no human can like Him

I have been the young fool before others before
I still am, in some ways, as I learn new tasks about my days

that strength - that wisdom of knowing oneself well
that they may give to others how they give best
God, what strengths should I be turning to, to growing?

a poetic mind with soft spirit and churning thoughts that drizzle out papers and ideas
is this me? is this the path I will go down next?
and have you hidden this from me before because it was too early for me to know?

sinusoidal action and thought

i always liked how you hid behind words. maybe it's because I was the same. it's like our secret, that we were both insane.

--

poetry is such a beautiful way to magnify the present, to bring it right up to your senses.

good reflection, for enjoyment

but keep forward with the action

action and thought: two in sinusoidal flow

--

I've learned plenty from others these past 2.5 years. The thoughtlessness of others, the desire to push forward with action rather than pause, meditate, enjoy the moment - so alien.

Or perhaps, I just didn't closely enough, and we actually were doing the same thing. It was just that our amplitude and frequency were different for our action-thought sin waves.

skills are trees; the forest is experience, enjoyment, and service

It's such a specific skill to recognize food allergic reactions. It's one that you can train only after such disciplined exposure in medical school, residency, etc.

...specific like all these abilities you have been pondering. Chess is so specific, all about this specific board set with such specific rules. Yet you see a beauty to its craft, its tactics, its strategy.

Software engineering, too - seeing code patterns, navigating web interfaces, searching for info. That description may already be too broad: the broad skill of adapting, learning new things, reading carefully and applying astutely. But the specific skill could be using your company's tools proficiently... engineering. Management of engineers.

Yet here we all are - humanity! Each acquiring different skills, different experience that one can then use to serve others. We must be aware of our skills, experiences, and tendencies, and translate them to serve others.

Perhaps you shouldn't be honing in on specific skills. Maybe it's making you miss the forest for the trees. *The big picture is simply to experience and enjoy life while serving others with your abilities, which come from your tendencies and experience.*

Give to others in your own special way. Be comfortable and love that.

chess tactics: direct action to the one true goal

I used to play chess as though I had infinite time. I would prefer to trade pieces, chip away the board until the opponent was entirely stripped of everything except a king and maybe a few pawns. And then I would close in and checkmate.

Yet, chess tactical puzzles taught me that I had been ignoring more direct approaches to the goal. You can checkmate far earlier, and there's a beauty to nailing down the king with a board so full of pieces. It's like you didn't waste your time bumbling about, but you dove right to the solution.

It reminds me of Ender tunneling to the end goal in Ender's Game, strictly adhering to the bare minimum of the rules to win.

Just go for the true target, and never lose focus on that. Nail that down.

This mentality applies to so many things in life - shooting for the true pursuit, and not letting distractions make you aimlessly move about. In my software engineering work, I could do so many things to further analyze an experiment, to try new features, to implement new things - but which of those are truly in pursuit of the main goal?

All steps should clearly be taken in pursuit of the main goal.

--

color complexes are also elegant - seeing the pattern of colored squares that are weak in the enemy, and exploiting that weakness. advancing your queen to a protected spot to further take control of a territory feels so satisfying.

mapping of a person's abilities

a mapping of all a person's potential abilities

why is it that some people, who seem to acquire so much talent, can yet seem so immature?
as though they still lack something that others, who have less "talent" you may say or diversity of ability, seem to have.

it's something about generosity. about the willingness to sacrifice yourself for others. perhaps that is the trait that differentiates. sacrificing time, which could be spent building up your own ability for your own glory. it changes when you're more intertwined in community and relationships - you now build up ability to serve the other person and others around you. and you may give up time to acquire your new skillsets. (but you can "sacrifice" your time joyfully - when you see the beautiful fruit it brings.)

a father, a mother, gives up so much to build up children.

a child develops and voraciously acquires more and more ability - but when do they start giving back?

what message am i trying to send here.

--

the joy of setting goals, of setting a direction. it's like declaring before a crew you're the captain of, "we are going to this island to find this treasure!" it's the wonder of the pursuit, not the destination, that matters.

he knows not where he's going
for the ocean will decide
it's not the destination
it's the glory of the ride

complex organizations

Navigating a complex organization is like sailing the sea - so vast, so deep, and one person could never plumb its depths completely or sail everywhere. But overtime, riding the waves, you can get a sense of how the currents work - the forces at play - and you can direct ships along it to serve people. Over time, you can create true utility out of complexity.

two kinds of trust

If you've ever had a dispute around trust, it may help to recognize there are at least two types.

1) Trust in a person's good intentions
2) Trust in a person's ability

You must trust in a person's good intentions before you can love them. This is the traditional notion of trust in relationships.

However, you do not have to trust in someone's ability to do something to love them.

For example, if a child desires to drive your car, you can distrust their ability to drive and just drive for them out of continued love for them (or fear for their safety).

Another example: If someone exclaims in outrage at you, "You're not trusting me!" you could be trusting in that they have good intentions, but not trusting in that what they are doing is best for the circumstances. So you could explain this distinction - that you do trust their good intentions, but simply are doubtful that their methodology is the best avenue available.

Recognizing these two kinds of trust can help resolve disputes around trust issues. Once again, this is all about creating the right vocabulary so people can communicate better.

pals

here are 4 broad dimensions
on which all life challenges and directions
can be molded in a move
to grow the self, improve

problem solving
acquiring rules efficiently
leadership
selflessness

revisiting

all along, the source of information was deluded. the source was not sound.

and revisiting, the writings here are as though by a stranger, when they were once me.

the lesson is learned; let the crate sink

jill and joe fought over opening the crate; they knew all the darkness inside, all the fear and terror, the troubles of the world, the pain

step in, create space, back away and think first; together we sat down and held hands around it and asked, Why open? What lesson is there to be learned?

in front of the crate, we already had the lesson there, on a thin slip of paper:

do not trust genius, narcissism, charm; great accomplishment can give rise to pride, the worst of the seven sins. pride can take a person down, and many others with that person.

so we have the lesson. it is there. there is no need to keep the crate now. let us drop it, let it sink to the bottom.

I command jill and joe to carry the crate to the edge of the ship, no strings attached. It drops into the ocean with a splash, white wash flying up, but then gone. briefly we see its dark brown exterior sink deeper, deeper... into blackness. it'll be at the bottom of the sea, along with probably thousands of other crates, many of which far larger. the sea is ridden with evil crates from the world, horror stories, but we take the slip of paper from it - the lessons - and let these crates fade away to nothingness.

this one is gone.

there may be small bubbles that come from bubble, little slips of paper that look tempting to grab. we should fish them gently, but not dive deeper into the realms below, because only drowning can be found there.

fish carefully; create space, lots of space, at any site of faint bubbles arising; do not rush, do not be overeager; be patient, gentle; this is something jill should not jump in for; just gently notice the bubbles coming up, let them sit at the surface for a while; only later on, will a slip of paper bubble up to join, and that small thing should be snagged gently, barely scraping the surface of the water

may we return to guiding our ship, navigating these waters, finding peaceful views of glaciers, green forests, beautiful land, beautiful sky

a mind divided - captain of the ship: jill and joe people

people call me one name, generally
(other languages aside)

but in my head, there are actually multiple

d is the captain of the ship, the one who steers and navigates the storms, calls out when he spots land; draws cheers, encouragement; gives rise to celebration

then the crew members, none of whom act with space between stimulus and response:

jill people, the emotional, the irrational, acting through spontaneity; these people have instincts, can sense emotions; are eager to take action quickly

joe people, the stolid, quiet, hard workers; those who can be depended on for robotic tasks, but who focus too much on conscious logical decision-making, not enough on gut feeling, often deliberating too much

d should balance his crew members, draw from the behavior of the crowd, and decide how to navigate the waters
jill people and joe people

it's about balancing intuition with reason, and keeping plenty of space between stimulus and response

shroud

A shadow of a portrait that I once held on the wall
People still stop and admire, rest their chins in their hands and thoughtfully smile
But I have since took down the frame
And let the dust settle on it from afar

An occasional smile, glance, eye contact
But usually her hair shrouds her queenly image
a sliver of brilliance; a whole history of accomplishment hidden

wispy conversation. defeat.

some people we talk to, the words just vanish into thin air. wisps. as though the conversation never even happened. no substance, no real buildup in getting to know each other, no consequence.

--

defeated. but in defeat, there is great simplicity.

proximity, possibility; throwing vases at windows

the problem is the proximity and possibility.

we throw vases at windows to see which breaks first. do I create a way out, or merely shatter my inner art?

--

this angst is wreaking havoc. the walls must be talking, the ceiling wagging a finger, the floor holding me up so I don't fall any further.

the human mind is not ready for this crazy burst of technology around us. our brains do not have the capacity to handle what our hands create. we no longer use handcuffs to lock up criminals, and tying our hands up makes no difference because they have built a thousand things to set them free. 

isolation is a tower you have to climb to see the fruits at the top; but when you get to the top, do you actually want to look down? you just look into the horizon, the beauty of the skies around you.

heartstrings and infinity

If you ever get to infinity
You will find me there
For tomorrow I will climb
The elementary stair.

I will climb to the very top
Open up the door
Look at all the ages
Lying on the floor.

-One Mind

--

Humans are naturally more responsive to physical phenomena than abstract phenomena. For example, children acquire language far better if they experience conversation from other human beings in person versus on television. Similarly, physical interaction with writing and paper tends to feel more satisfying for many, as many people report. [Reference.] Musical instruments capture a physical appreciation as well. There is something more satisfying about interacting with a mechanical device, such as a string instrument, with bare hands. Granted, some may feel that keyboards are more versatile than real pianos because of the possibility of combining a variety of sounds, such as the regular piano sound with strings or vocals. It becomes questionable what constitutes the boundary between mechanical/technological and not.

--

you tie my heartstrings around my wrists and hang me from the very stars I gaze at; then you pluck the strings with your tantalizing guitar picks, stealing melodies from my memories and casting them into the void. but I find a way to bring them back, to reel them in and retie the bow at my heart, and fire arrows of solitude stone dipped in choir music at your calloused hands

143 feel, fall, conclude

those who have this close sensitivity to the world stand apart from the cold, unthinking, shielded ways of others; it's the difference of a recluse and a social frequenter - those who feel in quiet times, let moments seep by, and those who cling to the external world's praises and shouts. a strength and a weakness, this sensitivity. much more a weakness in these times when I deal with the odd opacity of those around me, the strange sense that there's something more there, yet teasingly let in only to be declined.

when I see something in the distance, I like to believe that I can feel that object there, feel the armies of clouds floating as I fly high above, feel the armchair rocking as I depart it at the airport, feel my momentum swaying the world behind me in my footsteps.

this here is my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. I wonder who can appreciate that.

this chapter has concluded though. I have tried to turn the page, and I think new words are about to meet my eyes. the problem is that my fingers are restless and sometimes want to turn back and glance at those twirling words of what happened and develop theories around them - but that is when your strength becomes your weakness: you overthink. not everyone has that order of thought, and when they don't and you deal with them, you end up deceiving yourself. remember, just hypotheses - nothing else. be objective.

hypotheses are not dreams.

--

mutual improvement with another would be fantastic.

--

why can't you just free me of this stockholm syndrome?

treasure mine

every time I see paragraphs of text; cabooses of words connected to form trains and trains of meaning; musical notes spread out across pages and pages – every time I see such things, I see a treasure mine of wealth, information, exploration; a mysterious depth as deep as space itself.

sensing

How do I truly internalize this wonderful summer? I feel as though I am squeezing a sponge to force out the oceans and oceans of happiness that had occurred, but I just can't quite squeeze hard enough; as though there is always more cold refreshing water to unleash, to seep out and hug my hands, to cleanse, to imbibe, to smell evaporate through your nostrils... This feeling. The endless layers that keep appearing no matter how many times I peel the onion. The depth in each word that was spoken - I yearn for it to be felt; the ephemerality of each smile - I yearn for it to be collected into a wooden box, locked into my heart, with the key tossed off a cliff. There is a force around me, a feeling from the mountains I see beyond the plane wing and clouds, the soft glow of light smeared by a paintbrush of God, stroking the horizon, painting a perfection that everyone else doesn't seem to yearn for; a touch of it, a smidge, is all my throat thirsts for, all my body aches for. I feel a mysterious force hovering about each object, each motion, each spin of a wheel along the cold concrete, each breath from the winds around the clouds I the distance. It tickles the edges of my senses, eliciting the tail end of a thread of my mind. I feel like I could swallow all oceans and still not fully quench this sensation at the edge of my senses.

the game

the investment game is like reaching into a murky pool of water to dig for riches. many people aren't willing to go deep enough after dressing up in such a nice tux for so many years. they cringe when their sleeves are drenched in a soggy cold mud; they wince when the water coldly kisses their knees and reaches up their thighs; they can't handle this seduction.

but there are others, the clever ones, who use fishing rods to let the bait draw in the gold. these patient others let rain clouds drift away while they strum their guitar to songbirds under the sun. it's a witty trick, a ritual. triumph and disaster are just different costumes worn by the same creature to them. and the beauty is that they can play along their lives with no stress as life goes on.

all it requires is picking the right pond.

sacrifice

Definitions:
Source One - sources of intrinsic happiness
Source Two - sources of extrinsic happiness

it is now apparent to me that Source 1 and Source 2 are in such strong conflict that this balancing act is possibly the biggest challenge of my life. every party, every social invitation yields nothing but revisitation when I return to my silent abode - my safe haven of One. and perhaps better so, because between the two sources of happiness, it is One that drives me to work harder, learn more, ponder deeply and seek benefits for the larger world. it is One that ignites the fire and keeps it burning into a roaring flame capable of devouring forests... but instead, One directs the flame to carve wood together to build fortresses, kingdoms, castles.

complacency is not an option.

to cast aside all others would be a paradise enclosed in steel walls no one will ever break through unless I make a breakthrough.

do I really have to choose between the two? is Two such an alcoholic beverage, a shot glass that shoots me in the foot, preventing me from walking the restless way I always do, preventing me from sprinting at my heart's content? do I want to have a permanent crutch by my side - fall into potential complacency blinded by this deep love we all search for, a love we ironically call "the one"?

is balance possible? can we find even ground between the two - but odd plus even is always odd; nothing can deny 1+2=3. as long as my strength lies in One, I will remain my true self, even if slowed down by Two; even if slowed down by finding that one true love we call "the one".