we carry too much

... and you'd carry that, all you deserve.
never entitled to arms or holding close.
growing up beautiful is more than it seemed.

I spent some time on one of British Columbia's gulf islands this past weekend, a place called "Pender Island" an hour or so ferry ride from Victoria and greater Vancouver.

I came home and someone told me that at a Starfield/ Shane & Shane/ Bethany Dillon concert, here in Abbotsford, a 25 by 25 foot section of flooring collapsed, and 80ish people fell 5 meters into the basement. 40 people were injured though only one person was seriously injured.

I was really shaken by this at first, being a youth worker. I was supposed to be at this concert, but instead I was traveling to a youth retreat. I know there is some profound thing I am supposed to capture in all of this, some connection to be made, but I'm struggling to make that connection.

The first image that came to mind when I heard about this was youth workers at the concert rushing to the scene of the collapse, offering help, coming together. The next image was youth workers calling each other the next day, seeing which kids were hurt. And this, I think, is the heart of youth ministry- caring. I started to feel a compulsion to make calls myself, to hear stories and to be involved.

Though, I took a step back. The last thing I want to be is a band-wagoner, jumping in on some pity party. I do want to offer my sincere concern, but I also don't want to press an issue to much. Thus is life.

So, I'm back to my awkward stage of waiting to see wether or not I have a job, again. Next weekend I'm going to another retreat in the interior of BC somewhere, I have no idea. I hope to get some woods time, away from commitments and youth work for a couple days. I still have a lot of hurt to get through from this past semester- the hard stuff we have to carry in the mess of being real, living intentionally, learning the odds and ends of self respect.

Am I just sounding crazy here? I watched the "Return of the King" on friday, and in the end of the film frodo (I really hope I don't sound like a nerd) talked about the hurt that he still had from carrying the ring, even after it was gone from his life.

I think living life itself can feel like that. Even after we have come through the hard times we still carry the weight of that experience, almost to remind ourselves to keep learning. just a thought. comment if you want to help me finish that thought. I would be grateful.

Anyway, I owe you some pictures. I'll have a couple posts on "Art is for Birds" up this next week, I promise.

Later.

~

And thus it was. A fourth age of middle-earth began. And the fellowship of the ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love, was ended. Thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent us on our long journey we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight. We were home. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are somethings that time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep that have taken hold. Bilbo once told me his part in this tale would end, that each of us must come and go in the telling. Bilbo's story was now over. There would be no more journeys for him, save one. My dear Sam. You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be and to do. Your part in the story will go on.

- frodo, return of the king.

sky blue sky

Odds, ends.

Its finally sunny again. Kind of. At least it was when I first woke up.

I have a new room, beside my old one, that allows me a noticiably larger amount of space and light. I set up m bed right beside a window, so when it gets warmer I can wake up to fresh air and birds.

This also gives me something to look at while I write, as my desk space is not limited to a dark corner, or placed in front of a wall. All in all, this is a decent set up.

A lot has changed since last year. Like roommates. I don't live with Jeff (ben stiller) anymore, and I have not had any good conversations about shalom in a long long time.

I now live with this guy;



Oh no, wait. I do not live with Jensen Ackles (Smallville anyone?) I live with this fellow:



Nothing says "fish for lunch" like two guys from Vancouver Island sharing a house.


In other news, I am feeling the impending doom of rejection, as I still haven't heard back about the youth work job I am supposed to be doing this year. Which sucks for several reasons:

1) I have nothing to do for the next month, except watch movies and loathe myself for my spending habits.
2) I am horribly broke because of tuition fees
3) This is the 4th summer in a row I have tried to get a youth work job.

Anyway, I have nothing to complain about. I think it is going to be a good summer. I will hopefully enjoy the following things often:
1) acoustic music
2) clear, warm morning air
3) the backdeck
4) Green tea
5) Fair Trade South American Coffee. mmm.

We'll see. More to come, friends, once life gets started again.

Later.

some home

on expectations and my failing approach to relationships.

keep me in good company.
I need somewhere to call home.

every line I write falls captive to the wind.

~

I can't remember what I had to say,
to get this off my shoulders,
to do better at self-confidence.
It seems the hurting are the most outspoken.

whatever hurting means.

maybe I was way too hard on myself,
maybe we all are, in many ways.
and I have fallen under my own judgement.
my heart is wrecked with the things I say.

~

keep me in good company,
I need somewhere to rest my weary heart,

I can't keep up
the unfolding act of keeping my composure.

I expect too much of mountain peaks,
of sunny days that were supposed to last longer.
and belonging that was supposed to come through
for days like this.

I was good for a second there,
I still long for more than just 3 good days a year.

~


I'm making this up as a go along.
being my own mentor and father figure.
If only self-confidence was somewhat easier to do alone.
and I go at it as bravely as I can.

when did this house get so sarcastic,
and when did I get so bad at being cautious?

~

I was good for a second there.
It seems I only scare away those I care for.
I should just pack it in and go back home.

I don't want to wait until life feels good enough again,
I can't live up to a word I say.


~

In any case, my life is in a bit of transition this week. My roommate is slowly making his way out, and a new one is making his way in. I'm trying to keep myself together in the mess of organizing a years worth of life.

My exams finished last week and so I spent some time reflecting on being a leader this last year (a painful, fulfilling, experience) and looking forward to being even more of a leader next year.

Spring is lazily making its way in this year, preceeded by snow and cold wind. My friend gave me a pipe last week, so I am smoking more than usual ("usual" being never, really).

In any case, this is how my journal is unfolding. I feel super vague, and I'm having a hard time. If you want to ask me about any of this you know where to find me / e-mail me.

sonic youth is terrible

Hm. My last entry kind of sucked, again. I am really not doing well at this whole "sounding interesting" lately. I will make it up to you.

It has been overcast as anything since Saturday. Though, I am done exams, and I now have time to read books I have been meaning to read... among them;

The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck
The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, Mordachi Richler
The Sound and the Fury, William Faulkner
A Complicated Kindess, Miriam Toews

Alright. I have to write something good soon. It has been too long.

PS- If you haven't seen Juno yet, watch it over a cup of yorkshire harrogate tea. That and "Paris je' Taime".

See you.



PPS - I am wearing the most uncomfortable clothing known to man today, which does not fit. Clothing should not stretch. Meh.

blue like jazz

It was a pretty perfect couple of days on Friday and Saturday, I must say.

After a really difficult week my friend, Karina, and I went to see a Valley Festival Singers performance- which is a local choir group- with the theme of black spirituals. A couple of my friends were singing, and the Nelson Boschman Trio was playing, so all in all an amazing evening of song.

Afterwards we took a walk to a pizza place and shared a medium hawaiian overlooking the dim lights, and passing traffic, of South Fraser Way- a strip of Abbotsford where a mall, a Safeway, and numerous other stores and cafes call home.

It is not a spectacular place by any means, but these insignificant details of the town one calls home are always more beautiful when shared with a friend.

Saturday was as close to perfect as days can be... with the minor exception of an hour or so when I had a bit too much coffee and felt wired. I woke up at around 9 and a friend, Alex Friesen, called me, reminding me that Radiohead tickets were going on sale that morning at10!

Ah! So Alex, Greg, and I took a walk in the beautiful morning sunlight to the mall and waited around until 10. Then at 10:01 I picked up my horribly overpriced $77 ticket.

Thus, I now have ticket to see Radiohead in August. Ah Ha Ha!!! I am super excited for this one!

The day, then, consisted of me finishing novels, sitting under trees on campus, and sitting on my backdeck in the cool of night with a bottle of beer from holland. It does not get much better than this, friends.

Then Sunday was really overcast. And boring. And so is today. Thus proving the old cliche regarding British Columbia: If you don't like the weather just wait 5 minutes.

So now I am listening to In Rainbows for the second time this morning, about to have a gradually cooling mug of green tea, and about to finish papers that were due two weeks ago. Can't wait until summer starts up.

See you.

you must have fallen from the sky

I thought yesterday's post kind of sucked, so here is a better one.



I have a hard time trying to be concise when I am a) drinking coffee and b) am wrestling with my perceptions of love as opposed to the actual reality of love (I watched "Paris je'taime" last night and the many perspectives of love are battling it out in my head. bah).

Such a thought is, arguably, not something that needs to be wrestled with necessarily. Rather, this might be one of those questions that works itself over time and experience (and with wisdom to accompany said experience).

At least this is what I wish for myself. I wish for love to be a process with, eventually, grows me and stretches me. I like to think that God has the universe more intricately composed than I could ever comprehend. And if the universe is that intricately placed, then how much more is the relational aspect of my life taken care of?

Love is something I don't want to worry about constantly, sometimes.

Just a thought. I feel like a mess today.

you saw all my pieces broken

Last summer I listened to a lot of this guy (cary brothers). This summer I hope to listen to nothing but Sigur Ros, David Bazan, and Sufjan Stevens. And maybe Death Cab, if their new CD turns out to not be a horrible dissapointment (which seems to be the fate of a lot of great indie artists, upon reaching that "3rd major album" stage in life).

If you have any artists I need to be listening to, let me know. I like this plan.

more than alive

Today is a pretty slow day. It was raining this morning so I stayed in and watched "Chocolat". I have a bit of a craving for Bridget Jones. The movie, not Bridget herself... although.

School is almost done, in 2 weeks or so. I'm trying to tie up all the loose ends before summer - i.e. who I like, what bills I need to pay, what music I need to listen to.

I find it is really hard to keep things organized in a set plan. Sometimes the details of life get mixed together, so all I have left is a big mess of priorities, all of which I have to unpack and decide which are the more important to keep (and which are disposable). The to do list gets too complicated to follow through with, leaving me in an overwhelmed state.

Am I just sounding crazy here? To me this is what being a 23 year old / a college student feels like. It is the daily mess of making mistakes and learning from those mistakes, as opposed to having everything neatly laid out for me. The basic thought is that no-one taught me much about adult life- finances, time management, taxes. I'm making this up as I go along.

Maybe it is just as well. I think there are things in this life that have to be experienced in order to be learned, things you won't understand until you yourself have felt them - pain, love, rain, quiet nights under stars. It's basically like something out of a calming movie, or a book of reflective prose.

Though that is not to say I'm fine learning this alone. I do still feel the dire need for a mentor in my life to help me answer those questions, deal with the shit, that I am hard pressed to answer.

yeeeah. so thats that. deep breath. I need to avoid having so much tea. it gets me thinking too much.

later.

- Adam

currently listening to: Hayden (link conveniently located to your right).

bind my wandering heart to thee

older thoughts regarding home

The paradox of home is that it changes.
A house stops feeling like home. You won't find wisdom unless you leave.
Sometimes travel turns to the mercy of arms holding you,
travel turns into something more than running away.

its not in beautiful spaces I made, or the pine tree mistletoe.
I should have spent an evening listening, tasting, relaxing.
4 years later and this is all I have;
solitude without love is just being alone,
nothing wrecks solitude more than seeing people,
and nothing hurts more than the weight of words unsaid.

these snowy nights ask me to stay awhile.
I say can't. And I don't have a reason.

~
Some complicated thoughts:

So, I'm going to live in this place for the next year or so, wheras one of my roommates will not. Thus, I am starting to find that, as I explained in a recent assingment, "if you share a room with a person you are having a conflict with, it can seem like you are sharing a room with the conflict itself".

I have been losing a lot of sleep because there is an excess of unresolved conflict in this place I am supposed to call "home". And I really don't have anything except this apartment to "go home to". I am frustrated this time of year because of this. The idea that change hurts, I believe, starts to become more real in the twenties.

It has been a difficult couple of weeks. A lot of this comes out of hours of trying to clean my house and relax.

In terms of finding a sense of home in my house, I'm almost there.