Thursday, April 23, 2009
Anyway, like I was saying, I'll be working overseas for 6 months. It should be exciting, and I'm looking forward to the challenge. A friend who recently heard I was leaving told me, "You're gonna miss everybody."
"What do you mean?" I replied.
"You know, you're gonna miss everybody."
I had never thought of that.
"I guess so," I said. "Well, I don't think I'll miss anybody, per se, I'm more afraid of being forgotten, if that makes sense..."
"Yeah, it does."
And I believe this is still true. I don't think I will miss anybody. It sounds cold, I know, but I don't really 'miss' somebody as much as I would worry about somebody. Take my parents, for instance. They have a second house that needs drastic renovations, they've started a lot of the demo and fixed some foundation problems, and have done some extensive work on the house, but I worry about them in their old age. They shouldn't be working so hard. I might enlist some help from my church to do the bulk of the work while my dad takes it easy.
My sister recently separated from her husband. Left with an empty bank account, and four kids to take care of. And she's stuck paying off a loan taken out by her pussy husband.
These are the things I will think about. Not my friends, who have given me life lessons and pleasent memories. I will not miss my friends, because I know they'll be fine.
Why would they forget, you ask? I think because I've become complacent with their perception of me. I'm not sure if I'm just taken for granted or what, but more and more it seems like I'm not appreciated within my circles. From my white friends I get that impression that I'm that token brown guy to be ignored and poked fun at whenever conversations run dry. My brown friends give me that vibe like I'm not worth hanging out with. None of them ever call me anymore, and when I call them to hang out I always get the "Who else is going?" answer.
Perhaps this is the real reason I won't miss anybody.
Either way, I know I'll be forgotten when I'm gone, and I guess at this point, I'm not so scared anymore. I can find myself again and reassert my identity when I get back. Perhaps find some new and better friends~
Sunday, May 04, 2008
They entered a room where a group of people sat around a huge pot of stew. Everyone was famished, desperate and starving. Each held a spoon that reached the pot, but each spoon had a handle so much longer than their own arm that it could not be used to get the stew into their own mouths. The suffering was terrible.
"Come, now, I will show you heaven," the Angel said.
They entered another room, identical to the first. The pot of stew, the group of people, the same long-handled spoons. But there everyone was happy and well- nourished.
"I don't understand," said the man. "Why are they happy here when they are miserable in the other room and everything was the same?"
The Angel smiled. "Ah, it is simple," she said. "Here they have learned to feed each other."
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The Parable of the Lost SonJesus continued: "There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.
"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.' So he got up and went to his father.
"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'
"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'
"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'
" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "I've been really down on myself lately. I'm just really jaded I guess with the way things have turned out. The idealist in me has been expecting so much more out of this life. For the past couple years or so I've been trying to do things my way. Turns out I'm hopeless. I've learned a lot though - about myself and about other people. I've learned that we're broken. Today at church we came across this story. No matter how many times I hear it, it brings me hope. Enough to know that God is always waiting for me. Looking out towards that horizon, waiting for the day that I will return home. His arms are always open I know. I think you should know that as well. He's never left your side. He's just waiting for you. Waiting for you to talk to him. Would you walk beside me please? Let's walk home together.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
It's okay though, I didn't have much of a loyal reader/fan base, so I don't think I'll be missed if I stop blogging altogether.
If I am missed, it will be by those who really know me, and therefore know how to reach me, so don't fret. I'm easily accessible through other means. Starting now, I've decided to live by these principles:
1) There is always time for a loved one, especially a friend in need. If you can't seem to find the time, then maybe you should consider evaluating your lifestyle and what's really important to you.
2) It's never too late to say you're sorry.
3) Life is simple: Eat hardy, live freely and fervently, love extravagantly. Never expect anything in return.
This is Neil, signing out yo.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Yesterday was a fairly slow day at work. On most slow days, I surf over to my regularily visited pages, just to pass some time, or until something comes up. One of my most favourite sites, is a photojournalism site...
It's a humanitarian emergency site sponsored by Reuters. It has up to the second updates of crises that occur around the world.
You don't have to spend too much time on it to realize that humanity is in a sad state. You can forget about global warming. Many of the events you would read about are so deeply embedded into society and politics that it seems like such a dire situation. It can get depressing, as death is the main theme everyday.
I've always wondered, why do certain events get more coverage than others? Why does it seem like the country you were born in dictates how important you are to international eyes? Is the media really racist? Do WE really care about what goes on?
I don't want to belittle a certain event that occurred last week in the states that got (and is still getting) so much media coverage, but it proves my point. We'll hear about about 30 people who die in the states (which I feel is very tragic), but we'll never hear about 30000 who die overnight from famine or war. Does the media deem it less tragic? It sickens me. Some people think I don't care... Maybe it's just that I care too much.
But Neil, how do we fight the media?
I'm glad you asked.
1) Consider the source, check other sources (especially if your main source was CNN).
2) Consider the context of the event. Compare/contrast.
3) Make up your own informed decision about the event. Keeping in mind that there is bias in everything and that there is always another side to the story that is not being told.
Don't let the media shape your world view.