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| I used to write deep things. I remember. I used to think them, too.
When did this world of mine become all about survival and schedules? It's not that I'm not learning things. I've discovered whole new worlds of knowledge... about myself, about my company and how it does things, about Cat equipment (tee hee), about moms, about my kids, about finances, about friendships and fellowship and even about God.
I haven't read any theory in over a year (or just about anything else, for that matter). I doubt I'd understand it now, even if I tried. I'm not entirely sure I miss it. But here are some of my recent discoveries:
I've learned that it's harder to spend cash than credit. It hurts more.
I've learned that between me and my daughter, the poor dog is getting fed about 4 times a day. No wonder he's doubled in size.
I've learned how it feels to have to tell an employee that they're being laid off, and that today is their last day. I've also learned never to tell them not to worry, it won't happen to them.
I've learned that being a parent to two teenagers is vastly different than being a coach/teacher to hundreds of them. And yet, it's almost exactly the same, at the same time.
I've learned that Guitar Hero is terribly addictive. And that it causes muscle spasms in the back and neck.
I do still wonder about things... like the connection between speed cameras and panopticons and their effect on human behavior; like why people continue to make choices that will inevitably bring pain and destruction into their lives; like how I can feel so close to people so far away that I hardly ever talk to, and so distant from the people who sit beside me every day; like whether saving for retirement is a Biblical concept; like exactly how often I should bring up significant issues that are aiming for the good of the company before it becomes disrespect and insubordination; like the balance between being financially responsible and obsessing over money; like why God would let me go so far down an obviously wrong path without doing something to intervene (I'm guessing it's the "obvious" part); like what decisions to make today to help my kids become the wise, independent, responsible, hopeful, loving and generous people I know they can be some day.
There's joy here, in this place. And sorrow, and frustration, and anger, and delight, and laughter, and many, many, many other things.
The value of sleep, however, is undeniable. So good night. Sleep well, my friends.
P.S. I heard this quote the other day on a Mars Hill podcast (which I highly recommend, by the way), and I absolutely love it: "In the movie of my life, Jesus is in every frame."
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| This is Vienna. Famous historical and architectural wonders, marked by red-and-white flags around large white signs proclaiming 'Wien stellt sich vor' (Vienna introduces itself), ancient buildings and churches dating back to the Middle Ages are undergirded by a state-of-the-art, technologically advanced and thoroughly modern system of subways and trains that form the heart of the city's public transportation network. From every subway stop, marked by a bright blue cube with a large white 'U' on every side, a complex web of tram and bus lines radiate out to cover every block of the city, forming endless rhizomatic connections that make cars not only unnecessary, but an actual nuisance in this city. It's impossible to get lost here. A short walk in any direction will take you within a block of a bus or tram stop, from which you can immediately determine not only where you are, but which direction you need to go to connect to a subway. Once on a subway, a large, color-coded map of the entire subway system is prominently displayed above every door and at every station. Piece of cake (more on cake later...). This is Vienna. A young girl hops on the train from Baden, wearing thin black cotton skintight pants with white polka dots and a large safety pin, a bright pink sweater, and a thick black down jacket to ward off the cold. Her elders, covered head to toe in traditional fur or wool coats with matching hats, frown disapprovingly as she pops out her cell phone and chatters away while searching for her favorite song on her iPod. This is Vienna. A Starbucks (ironic enough in the city that both invented the coffee shop and first introduced coffee to the West after the Turks invaded in the 1400s) pops up across the street from the restaurant 'zum goldenen Kameel', which proudly boasts its establishment in the year 1602. This is Vienna. From the first 'Grüß Gott' on the Austrian Airlines flight to the waitress' smiling 'gerne' (gladly) as we place our orders, I'm reminded of the courtesy that is so characteristic of this country. Signs on the escalators remind travelers to please stand to the right, and the intercom on the tram politely requests that passengers give up their seats to those who have greater need of them. As long as you know and follow the rules, you'll receive friendly smiles and approving nods from the meticulous and orderly Austrians. But if, for example, you happen to miss the instructions on the electronic scale that tell you how to print out a label for the produce you're buying at the grocery store, you'll be impatiently and disgustedly reprimanded with, 'These go on the scale! These, too!' by the cashier. She's in a hurry, after all. She doesn't have time for these silly strangers who just don't know how things are done around here. There's only one way to do things, in Austria. This is Vienna. An enormous billboard shows an anorexic-looking young woman wearing almost nothing stretched out on her back on top of a table, holding her high-heeled shoe in the air with her foot. Beside her, in unconscious irony, an equally huge billboard rails against the evils of domestic violence and urges victims to speak out. This is Vienna. Chain stores, internet cafes and cell phone shops jostle with ancient cathedrals and monuments over the limited space of the inner city. Older buildings are torn down to make room for new constructions of glass and steel. Church steeples and skyscrapers greet the sunrise together, while the bells that chime on the hour drown out the sounds of high-speed trains and autobahns. This is Vienna. People everywhere run to jump on a tram as if the next one were more than a ten-minute wait away, then stop to linger over a glass of wine or a cup of coffee in their local heuriger or coffee shop (did I mention that that's a Viennese invention?) for hours on end. They've even gone so far as to put up LCD displays of ETAs (estimated time of arrival) at tramstops, though I've yet to see one that's more than 7 minutes. Schedules and appointments are precise, to-the-minute, but meals and conversations are leisurely, long-winded affairs...involving foods that are far too delicious to describe here... This is Vienna. It's a city of contrasts, but the contrasts move in more of a dance than a battle. Technology and tradition intertwine seamlessly, effortlessly, in this city of Mozart and Falco, of Beethoven and techno clubs, of waltzing, skateboarding, and Lipizzaner horses. The city is international, cosmopolitan, and far more diverse than I remember it, but it also deeply and proudly rooted in its 2000 year history of kings, emperors and palaces. Some history is prouder than others. Wandering aimlessly through the narrow alleyways of the inner city, I stumbled across a large, empty square--oddly empty, when the rest of the city was bustling with a post-Christmas return to business as usual. I was drawn at first to the gilded doorframe decorated with statues of Greek gods, but then a lingering sense of sadness gently nudged me with its stillness, and I glanced around to see where I was. Judenplatz, a street sign declared. That explains it. The Jewish quarter, where thousands of Jews had been barricaded in before being herded into trains and shipped off to die in concentration camps. The monument, not quite in the center of the square, tells the story: closed doors without handles on a large brick box. And the inscription, lit by dozens of votive candles in red glass holders, explains in Hebrew, German and English: 'In commemoration of the 65,000 Austrian Jews who were killed by the Nazis during World War II.' Austria is good at remembering. It dare not forget. This is Vienna. Posters all around the city announce upcoming cultural events: die Fledermaus (my family was discussing renaming the English 'bat' to match the German: 'fluttermouse'... or simply 'flouse'? We eventually concluded that 'Fluttermouseman' just isn't cool enough.), the Valkyrie, We Will Rock You (the Queen musical--coming soon), the current exhibit of paintings by Titian at the Art Museum, Dürrenmatt's Besuch der Alten Dame, the Nutcracker ballet, a Beethoven concert for New Year's Eve, and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? This is Vienna. Old and new, traditional and avant garde, the past, the present and the future. It's Wien, just as I remember it. | | |
| It's spectacular, really. The narrow, cobblestone streets are resplendent with lights and garlands strung with precise attention to the dignity and taste Austrians demand from every festive moment. The cathedrals sit up tall, knowing that their moment of glory is at hand... for a brief hour just after midnight, even these silent, empty, tomblike memorials remember what it feels like to be filled with worshipers singing glory to God... even if it only happens for the Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve... and even if most of the 'worshipers' are tourists, more interested in the intricate stonework and the stories behind the sculptures (you mean the artist actually had his eyes gouged out so he couldn't replicate these statues?) than in the miraculous appearance of God on earth. And then there's the Christkindlmarkt (Christ child market. Yup, yup, yup. I'm sure the Jesus who drove vendors out of the temple with a whip is thrilled at this representation of His character.). Okay, so it's a little kitschig (tacky), but where else can you find things like langos (fried dough lavishly splashed with garlic butter), maroni (chestnuts roasted over a large black grill as you watch), bratkartoffel (fried potatoes... same grill), and glühwein (hot red wine), along with as much cotton candy, gingerbread (both edible and decorative), Christmas decorations, wallets, nativity sets, hats, gloves, and homemade crafts as you could hope to find in a lifetime? It may be a little goofy, but it's a tradition. And set against the backdrop of the Rathaus (city hall... the rats in this house don't come in rodent form...), with its gothic spire and inexplicable enormous, backlit poster of a woman's bare shoulder, it really is breathtaking. And Christmas in Vienna is not Christmas in Vienna without the Christkindlmarkt, and it's new baby sister, the Christkindlwerkstätte (the Christ child workshop, as my brother pointed out... where baby Jesus makes toys for children on Christmas?... yeah, that's a touch on the surreal side...). In all my years in Vienna, I never knew that if you go INSIDE the Rathaus, you could find a place to sit and rest and escape from the bitter cold... that sure would have been good to know when my mother's shopping stamina outstripped mine, as it inevitably did. But the workshop is a new thing--a place where kids can come and be taught how to do various crafts, from stone sculptures (out of clay, from what I could see) to ornaments to straw stars, an Austrian tradition, while their parents either watched through the glass or disappeared to shop outside. Brilliant, really. If I had stayed in Vienna, I could see myself manning one of those stations... But I didn't stay in Vienna, twenty years ago, and now I've returned as a tourist, revisiting my old haunts and trying to remember where it was that this street used to take me when I ran through it years ago... It's Vienna, alright, just like I remember it. Well, almost. The streets seem smaller and narrower, the tramlines are shorter (There are only about 10 stops on the 37 line. Who knew?), and it's cold. Really cold. Yes, I live in Arizona now, but I seriously don't remember a cold so bitter that I had to wear sweats under my jeans--and even then, when the wind kicks up, it stabs like needles right through to the bone, and I find myself ducking into doorways just to survive. We celebrated our 'giftless' Christmas as a family just like we always do... lazily, with lots of naps and games and movies and conversations and chocolate.. and then my mom and I threw together a dinner from what we'd managed to find at the grocery store. I'm always amazed by what my mother can create out of almost nothing. She managed to make our meal of leftovers and pre-packaged mixes look and taste like a feast, as usual. Then we played Farkel (a dice game I learned at Valerie's over Thanksgiving... except that her family calls it 'Dice') until late into the night before we finally decided to give up and go to bed... I'm in Vienna for Christmas. It's a dream come true, in a hundred different ways. Two days ago I hopped on a subway and sped off to Schottentor with no real plan in mind except to see how far I could get in the two hours before I had to meet up with my family once again. The 37 tram took me to the front door of my old house, where we lived for 10 years, and I spent the next hour visiting some of my favorite spots... the church down the street where I once read from Luke during a mass (I was neither Catholic nor baptized, so I wasn't allowed to take communion or do confession... but I could read!), the playground that became the beginning of a million adventures in my imagination, my elementary school, where I learned to knit and crochet and weave and sew in 2nd grade... so much of it is still exactly the same. 20 years doesn't make much of a dent on a city that has stood in this spot since the Romans set up an outpost here in Jesus' time. There's still so much to explore and revisit for me... my family took off for Zagreb this morning, and I stayed behind. I wanted to come to Vienna for a kind of catharsis; I guess I'm hoping that returning to the beginning will help me sort out the things that mean the most to me and refocus in some way. I've been feeling pretty lost lately, I suppose, and there's something so therapeutic and refreshing about wandering the streets of a beautiful European city--especially Vienna. I've been going at 200 miles an hour for the past few months, with no time to stop and grab hold of the thoughts swirling in my restless brain... and I get the feeling some of them might be important. My kingdom for a Pensieve! I wasn't expecting the cold I thought I kicked last week to rear back up and attack with a vengeance again... so I spent today in bed, except for a brief venture to the neighborhood grocery store for mineral water, orange juice, and tea. It was closed, for some reason... large signs proudly proclaim its open hours on Christmas and New Year's Eve, as well as the normal operating hours from 7:30 a.m. to 7 p.m.... but at 4 p.m. on the day after Christmas, there's absolutely no sign of life. I'm a little afraid they're taking the whole week off... wouldn't be much of a shock, actually. Oh, well. There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge (my room in the guest house is about the size of my last apartment, complete with kitchen, living room, dining room and bathroom), and breakfast is provided, so I should be okay. If I have to, I'll buy groceries on my way home from my adventures in the city tomorrow. I'm bound and determined to be well enough to get out tomorrow. I've got pictures of all of this, but I'll have to add those later... they're on my dad's computer, which went with him to Zagreb for the week. So check back later if you want to see pictures... | | |
| 1. What are your siblings MIDDLE names?
Duncan
2. Where is your dad right now?
Colorado, I assume.
3. What was the last thing you said?
Hard to say... wasn't actually listening.
4. What is something you've learned about yourself recently?
I can't sleep in hotel rooms.
5. What color is your watch?
Black.
6. What do you think of when you think of Australia?
Oceans. And sharks.
7. When was the last time you squatted to pee?
1999, I'm guessing.
8. Who is the last person you liked?
"liked"... past tense? Um... yeah, I dunno.
9. Are you close to your mom?
Relatively speaking.
10. Where does your best friend work?
Chase, Hillel & some hospital somewhere.
11. What is your most attractive physical feature?
My hair...
12. What color are your pants?
Purple
13.Do you have a roommate?
Nope
14.Do you prefer paper or plastic?
Depends on the purpose. Generally paper.
15. What color is your bedroom flooring?
Beige
16. Do you have a chair in your room?
Yes.
17. What time of day were you born?
30 minutes after midnight
18. Do you know anyone engaged?
Always.
19. What's your favorite number?
eh
20. Do you know anyone named Laurie?
Yes.
21. What color is your mom's hair?
Dark brown.
22. Do you have a dog?
No.
23. Where did you live in 1987?
Hackhofergasse, in Vienna.
24. What happened to you in 1993?
Lots of things... that was a great year.
25. Does your first memory involve your dad?
No. Just the tiles under the kitchen table.
26. Do you remember singing any songs as kids?
Yes.
27. When was the last time you went swimming?
Too long ago.
28. Has your luggage ever got lost?
Lost, stolen, misdirected, destroyed... you name it.
29. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings?
last Christmas? Possibly since then. Don't remember.
30. Did you ever go to camp as a kid?
Once.
31. Do you play an instrument?
Not well, no.
32. Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar?
No.
33. Do you like fire?
Love it.
35. Are you allergic to anything?
Apparently.
36. When was the last time you cried?
Not sure, actually. A week or two ago?
37. What kind of shampoo do you use?
Suave.
38. Have you ever been to a spa?
Nope.
39. Were you popular in high school?
Not really, no.
40. Did you take science all four years of high school?
No.
41. Do you like butterflies?
Not real ones.
42. What is the last book you read?
Next.
43. Do you like Coke or Pepsi more?
Coke.
44. What is one thing you miss about your past?
Trams.
45. Did you ever see the school nurse?
Not as a student.
46. Have you ever wanted to be a teacher?
Hmm.
47. What is one thing you've learned about life?
It has its own movement.
48. Are you jealous of anyone?
Sometimes.
49. Is anyone jealous of you?
No idea.
50. When was the last time you were in an elevator?
A few weeks ago. | | |
| The pancakes were delicious. Really, they were. I promise. The company was delightful. I would have been happy if one or two had showed up... and any number above that is a bonus (there were ten). We had a relaxed, refreshing, very low key and lovely time together. It is definitely a tradition, I've decided. First Saturday of every month, at my house. Pancakes, coffee & orange juice... all you can eat. Come as you are. Now that I've figured out that the griddle is not broken, and it does actually get hot, it's a piece of (pan)cake. It's amazing how peaceful it is here. Here, in my house. Here, in my heart. Here, in this place I didn't know I could love, with people I knew I would and did, with a job that constantly surprises me, and a church that's so glorious it's nearly indescribable, and meets in a school. I never dreamed I could actually be content. I never imagined that a day would come that did not find me looking forward, into the future, anxiously longing for what will be. I'm here, today, in this place, and I am content. Weird. And in the midst of all of this peace, there is so much going on, in my calm little life... children I get to love and play and laugh and talk with; co-workers I get to challenge and encourage and care for; friends, brothers and sisters, I get to share and cry and laugh and work with, and work to do that is meaningful and eternal and significant. It's true. I do not want. | | |
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