Notes from Mother Nature

Hi Readers,

I recently just returned from a 3-day trip to the Ozark Mountains. Me and BR backpacked through the Bell Mountain Wilderness area, and the Ozark Trail. We traveled 42 miles in 3 days, which is a pretty nice pace for us. We camped for two nights...both nights were windy, but it rained very hard on the second night. Overall, the trip was characterized by fatigue and the difference in time perception. We had expected to run into some other people while hiking the trail...but we were wrong. The only people we met were 2 people who looked like they were living off the land illegally (hunting, etc.). Aside from that, we saw no other human beings for the entire duration of our hike. And if my cellphone had not turned on by itself in my pocket, I would not have had any other communications other than with BR. As it is, I got a lovely text from JM about joining for a movie night with chocolate popcorns, and immediately felt hungry.

In the beginning of the hike, BR and I talked a lot on the trail. As time grew on, our pace grew faster, our physical separation began growing apart ; we began getting more and more out of breath, and we began talking less and less, until we probably spoke an average of 10 words to each other every half an hour. Under such conditions, I began humming music to myself to entertain myself on the trail. With this method, I discovered a surprising thing on the second day of my trekking: for me, classical music dulls pain.

At the end of our second day, we had to hurry back from Council Bluffs to Big River in order to reach a suitable campsite (that was not in a flash flooding zone). I was leading, so it was up to me to set a fast pace in order to make at least 2 miles in an hour. It seems like a distance that you can scoff at, but once you're out there trudging through the leaves and rocks, you'll realize how difficult it is. Especially with a 40-50 lb bag on your back. Anyways, my shoulders and feet were aching really badly at the time.

And then I put on Beethoven's Spring Sonata in my head.

It wasn't instantaneous, but within 5 minutes I had gotten really into the music, and the pain had all but disappeared. I could feel a blister on my feet, a persistent force on my shoulder, but none of it hurt anymore. Because of this, I was able to set a pace that took us 2 miles in 50 minutes, giving us enough time to refill our water at Big River and set up camp before it got too dark. This was really weird for me, so I decided to test it out more the next day.

So the next day along the trail, I hummed music in my head the whole way. Had some Nelly Furtado, Coldplay, Radiohead, Rihanna, even Katy Perry. For the first hour, that was all I really hummed. And my feet and shoulders were killing me by the time we took our first break, an hour into the hike. For the second hour, BR (who was leading) set a daunting pace through a part of the trail where it must have ascended 150-200 feet without stop. I put on Rachmaninoff's 3rd Piano Concerto and blazed through that section, and by the time we reached Ottery Creek, everything had stopped hurting and I felt even better than before we had started walking.

I used Rachmaninoff's 2nd and Prokofiev's 1st Concertos to crank out a 3 mile/hr pace on the uphill section from Ottery Creek to Bell Mountain. Still didn't feel any pain. But my ultimate proof of the power of classical music came in the last mile of hiking. It was entirely in darkness, and since I have a fear of the dark and BR is apparently afraid of raptors coming out of the dark a la Jurassic Park 2, both of us were on edge. And since BR and I were talking to ward off our fears of the forest at night, my shoulders and feet were beginning to kill me again. At the point when I couldn't stand it anymore, I put on Rachmaninoff's 2nd concerto again.

The pain disappeared.

The case is closed. Classical music is apparently my panacea. I think it may have something to do with the fact that the brain cannot focus on so many things at a time. I'm not complaining...I'd rather enjoy a grand concert in my head than the pain from my body. Though I tend to get so engrossed in the music that I start waving my arms around as if I'm conducting the music ("like a maniac", according to BR)...but I'll accept the weird WTF thoughts going through BR's head rather than the pain as well.

-FCDH

New Pair of Shoes?

Hi Readers,

First, just a clarification - I am not depressed, nor was the point of my last post to show depression.

Instead, the point of it was to give a first-person perspective of all the years in my life that I spent hiding myself. I'm sure we all have felt these moments before, but to feel it day in and day out - it really takes a toll on you. I still can't really quantify the psychological impact that this has probably had on my childhood and teenage years, nor would I want to. The road of what-ifs is a slippery one to tread on, and in any case it is now too late for it.

I want to use this post to encourage any readers who may be in similar situations to reflect on their own situations. Think about what is important, and whether or not you are willing to risk your psychological well-being on hiding. I am not making a broad general statement for every closeted person to come out. Instead, think carefully about what you will gain, and what you will lose, by doing so.

For me, what I gained was the ability to face society head-on. To admit it to yourself is the first step, and to admit it to others is the second. Not that there isn't any discomfort there - there certainly is. It is still a somewhat taboo issue, but it's an issue that will not be going away anytime soon. To be able to face society, and yourself as well, is to show that you realize that the reality is the reality. It's a harsh reality, but then nobody said life is fair.

With that being said, I still have my moments of doubt. About myself, and how the rest of my life will play out. Straight people will often offer encouragements, but from my perspective, it's like the US patting Aung San Suu Kyi on the head and saying, "oh yeah, Burma's going to get democracy one day."

But when is that day? Will it ever come? That's the million dollar question. For the subset of society that must still live, saddled with this weight on our heads and chests, the only thing we can do is hope. It is like seeing a few rays of the sun shining on the horizon...we can only hope that it is the dawn of something special, and not the dusk.

-FCDH

Alone In the Dark

Hi Readers,

Smiling is an amazing action. When we smile, somehow we feel happy. The muscles must be linked to the emotion for happiness. Want artificial happiness? Just smile a smile. It's healthy for the heart, mind, and soul. It's healthy for the individual, the masses, and the society.

Even if it ends at the mouth. The cold resentment encroaches upon its territory, but the flame holds. They recoil back and await, at the edge of the circle of light. Feeding off one another's energy. The soul glares in disapproval, the mind yearns to reveal its secrets, and the eyes hold daggers at the ready. Smile! It will make everything better. If only for a moment. Disappear now. The pieces fall into place.

It's so hard to smile a smile that hides it all.

Curl those lips into a humorless smile. While the eyes remain dull, having lost their vitality. While the pain stabs you in the heart. While the effort of holding back the burning sensation at your eyes makes you want to rip all your hair out. While you just want to smash the table to pieces. Rip every shred of paper. Burn everything in sight. Scream into the vacuum. Cry. Lament. Wallow.

While nary a ripple through the sands of time emanates outward from you. Has anyone noticed anything? Swallow it all. Mask everything. Smooth your voice. Clamp the filter back on.

Everything's ok. A mere pawn. Another day, in the sadistic game of life. The movement descends back into the underground. An unspoken threat of revolt hangs in the air.

-FCDH

Swirling Clouds

Hi Readers,

Through another friend, I met a boy today. We ate, we talked, and we walked. He's really cute, and his eyes are mesmerizing. I wish we could've continued walking and talking...damn the EWB meeting that I had. I don't know the next time I'll see him, or if there'll be a next time. I haven't felt like this in awhile.

I can't focus on my work. What's wrong with me?? Half of me is giddy and hopeful, while the other half is cautioning me against failure. Both halves know that I have a test on Monday and need to study, but they're both putting it on the back burner while they're battling it out.

Stop the scorched earth policy! I need my mind!

Am I setting myself up for failure?

Focus! Must derive the S parameters of a 2-port network. Pick up pencil. Yes, the pencil. Right there in front of you. Next to the cellphone. Ooo I have a text.

"oh silly David...Trix are for kids".

From a fellow EWBer. I love EWB. I love everyone in this organization.

SB, if you are reading this. I love you so much. You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for. You're probably the biggest reason I don't want to leave this place. I can't imagine not having you around. I can't imagine leaving this place. Has it only been 4 years? This place is a living entity...my water, my food, my shelter. I lost myself here, and I rediscovered myself here. I discovered the world, an infinite cache of knowledge.

There are sirens outside. Typical Halloween night sounds.

A ceasefire has been declared.

-FCDH

Glide Away

Hi Readers,

To those of you that don't already know it, I've taken up longboarding. My friend lent me his old longboard, so I've been practicing with it for the past month or so. The entire experience, from the first time I stepped on a longboard till now, has been quite amusing. Let me walk you through it.

I remember the first time I tried it. I had obtained the board on Friday night after rock climbing at the ARC. I woke up late on the following Saturday morning...like around 3pm late, and I immediately thought about trying it out. I took the board to the back entrance of Siebel center, where there was a slight incline. I stepped on the board, and gently nudged it forward...and about 3 seconds later I jumped off and the board flew away and crashed into...something. What exhilaration! Over the span of the next hour, I gradually moved from going downhill, to learning how to use my feet to propel myself, to going uphill. Granted I was still very unstable at this time, but hey I could stay on a longboard! Another goal accomplished =).

Within a week I was longboarding from home to the EWB office. There was a gentle slope downwards on the way, so I didn't have to propel much. Granted curbs and pedestrians freaked me out, but I managed it alright. The only time I've fallen has been at 2am with my backpack. Scraped my hands a little but it's fine. As time progressed, I've gotten more comfortable. Soon I'm boarding from the office to home...then from the office to other offices, to meetings, restaurants, or even walking with friends. Looking back now, it's hard to believe that a month ago I was still freaking out when the board tilted.

Boarding offers you a new angle on life. From a perch about 4 inches off the ground, you glide smoothly and majestically (or with cacophony and bumps over sidewalk cracks) as scenes and people fly past you. Moving from point A to B is no longer a mindless task ; now it's an exercise of dodging pedestrians, accelerating heartrates whenever there are bumps (which there always are), and planning out your trajectory from 15 feet away.

And you must always have an emergency plan in mind. What happens if that car doesn't stop at the crosswalk, of if that Korean girl gets the deer-in-headlight body freeze, or if the delta impulse from the extra-high sidewalk crack on the board-man momentum sum is enough to reverse the sign of the momentum on the board but not on the man.

Longboarding offers more than a danger of skinned elbows and bruised egos. It offers uncertainty and unpredictability, which is in short supply in our lives... and the tantalizing taste of failure, when you are only accountable to yourself and no other. We all need a taste of failure in our lives, so we can realize our vulnerability in the vast world. Nothing is guaranteed, and planned routes can fall apart at a single wide-eyed glance from a person frozen on your trajectory.

So swerve around, step beyond, and glide away.

-FCDH

Purging an Evil Addiction

Hi Readers,

I finally realized why I was so down in the dumps for the past few weeks... and I finally broke off my tenacious addiction to Civilization 4 today by uninstalling it from my computer. It's been dragging me back into the abyss of lost time ever since I installed it 3 weeks ago. I've been spending excessive time (12+ hours on Saturday) with it, and it just can't continue anymore. I would play Civ4 so much that I couldn't focus on schoolwork enough, and then I'd be depressed that I wasn't doing as well as last semester, even though I'm taking less hours and have less commitment right now. It made me feel pathetic and lost, which made me spend even more time on them. A flashback to high school.

I don't understand why video games are so addictive for me. I know they were made to be that way, but I thought I had developed self control and restraint over my 3 years of multitasking. But my extremely fast slide shocked me to my very core. Back in high school, I spent a lot of time on video games. Entire weekends were devoted to computer games, basically from Friday night all the way till Sunday night. I did MMORPGs with my homestay brother so much that I would create new characters to level up when I got bored with the old one...resulting in an inventory of 8 characters. I played so many games: RO, MapleStory, Gate to Heaven, Civ4, Age of Empires / Mythology, Rise of Nations, Runescape (lol), and so many others that I've lost track of them all.

Looking back, video games were singularly the most destructive influence during my teenage years. The amount of potential that I wasted was so enormous that I'm only making up for it now in college. I always say that we shouldn't regret anything in life, but that's not true - I regret all the time I wasted on video games. All the sports / music / activities / learning I could have been doing in those 5 years all went down the drain. I realized this early in my college experience, which is why I swore off them and haven't seriously touched any in the past 3 years. In return, I've been blessed by an extremely eventful and productive undergraduate career that continues to amaze me every single day. I cherish the lifestyle I live now, and I will not give it up without a fight.

So,

I promise never to install another video game on my computer, and

I promise never to revert back to the old me, who wasted 5 years of his life in the virtual world.

I've never broken my promises, and I don't intend to start now. I'm just glad I realized this addiction before it destroyed my life again. As for the free time I've picked up, I'm going to spend it on a project to develop a website for Campus Surplus on behalf of the SSC. As for weekends, I'm going to start training for the marathon that I just signed up for in the spring. I'm going to reach for my goals instead of languishing in the murky bog of my past.

To hell with wasted time...life's better than that.

-FCDH

A Slow Motion Crash

Much has happened recently in my life, but I haven't been able to get motivation to do much. Despite dropping CS 225, I bombed both the GRE and my first ECE 464 midterm. The piles of dishes at home are obscene. Laundry is waiting to be done. Still need to write my paper. Still have to process those reimbursements.

I can't get the will to do any of it. I'm lost, and the only thing I know is that I'm falling. Here goes a long discourse that is disgusting in the amount of self-wallowing-in-pity there is. Let it serve as a warning to some, and advice to others.

I spent my freshman, sophomore, and junior years vaulting myself high into the air, towards the stars. It started off as a desire to experience as much as possible, in order for myself to live a fulfilling life. I was a nobody with no direction to my life - it was the perfect time to start. There was only one direction to go, and that was up. Curiosity and ambition quickly made me take on more and more, and I always told myself that I was sincere in everything I tried and did. Along the way, I looked at people who held their noses high and looked down on others, and I scoffed at the lack of substance in their supposed "accomplishments". I warned myself against becoming one of these people.

Somewhere along the line, things morphed insidiously inside of me. I guess I wanted to stand out from the pack. I wanted my name to be known, for it to be spoken with respect, and for myself to be able to look back and say proudly, "look at all that I accomplished." I wanted myself to be different from the nobody that I've been my whole life.

Well, I got it. I was distinguished with ceremonies and banquets. I was showered with awards and praise. And somewhere in the middle, I lost my soul. I became a puppet to what society deemed "admirable". I set high hoops for myself, and took it as a given that I would jump through them. The seemingly logical argument gradually formed in my mind - if I could build myself up from a nobody to get to where I am today, then anyone else should be able to do it. I became arrogantly proud and self-confident, and looked down on everybody from the perch that I had constructed for myself. I held disdain at those who had the potential to do great things, but who wasted it. I gradually became the person I wanted to avoid becoming, except I didn't even realize it.

Well, I gave up a lot of responsibilities this semester. Why I did it, I don't know. I guess I was just tired of the effort and stress that it takes to maintain it. And I found myself re-transforming into a nobody again. But even worse, a nobody that people still look up to and respect. I feel like a hypocrite when people praise me for what I've done, when people see my past accomplishments but don't realize how pathetic I am now. There's still a high bar of expectation there, except I can't jump over it anymore, not even for myself. Worse than that, my arrogance has remained, except now it lacks substance.

I don't have anything more to give. I'm so tired of constantly striving to achieve more. So tired. But withdrawal is setting in. I don't want to give up being the same person who I was the past 3 years. I feel like there's still potential there.

But do I even like that person? If not, who am I supposed to become otherwise?

How did things go so wrong? I feel like crap. My life is such a lie.

-FCDH