In season 1 of "How I Met Your Mother," there is an episode where character Robin Sherbotsky begins dating a seemingly great guy: He's handsome, attentive, easygoing and totally into her. Throughout the epidsode though, we see Robin struggling. She feels cramped by his eagerness to do things together, and uncomfortable being part of a couple. There is one scene in particular that captures this. After a pep talk with her best friend about needing to let go of herself a little and embrace the "togetherness" of couple-dom, Robin takes the giant step of deciding to share an ice cream sundae with her boyfriend. But throughout the conversation, she keeps qualifying all of his "we" statements back into "you" and "I"s. As Robin attempts to share the sundae, she finds herself pulling it for herself, until finally she creates a diversion to distract her date so that she can finish the sundae off.
From the first time I watched this plot unfold, I felt like I was watching myself, all the way down to the cherry on the sundae. I have become very comfortably independent. And if I were to be honest, I like that at the end of the day I call the shots on my life and there's no complication of another person's needs, preferences or issues to consider. I give myself gladly to my friends and those I love, but if I need my alone time or have other things to tend to, in the back of my mind I know I can just leave. I like my own sundae with the flavors and toppings just the way I like them.
The problem is, there's not much room for someone else in Sherbotsky land. And more recently, I've become aware of how used to it I've become, and protective of losing myself to someone else. But in the world of real relationships, you must create room for someone else, as they create room for you. Their cares become yours, their needs become your concern, their issues become things you must work through -- together.
Like many other singles, I like the idea of dating and becoming a "we" with someone else. But deep down, the thought of letting go of my single comforts makes me a little anxious. At least I know it must be done. It has made it to my to-do list.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
The Weight of Glory and A Pair of Shoes
I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. -Romans 8:18
As a student in college, now more than 10 years ago, I loved this verse. At the time, I think I loved the idea that nothing in this world could get me down, because God's redemption was so complete it covered even the bad stuff. Of course, at the time, "the bad stuff" consisted of unrequited feelings from boys I liked or an argument with someone in my family.
Fast forward to present day. I drove home today with 3 pairs of shoes in my car that used to belong to my friend Midi, who died almost 2 whole years ago now. Mark, knowing we wore the same shoe size, let me know he was starting to clean out the closet. Along the way, I talked to my friend, Hideo, who's cancer is now at least 12 times the size it was when it was found early this year, and who has now been told by more than one doctor that there is very little they can do. Friends have been married and divorced, family and friends' families have passed away (some tragically) and the world of present sufferings can feel downright overwhelming.
But the weight of glory has proved its worth as well, as only time and suffering can truly test. It's funny -- I always understood the glory to be a future thing, like one day when we all die and go to heaven, we'll get to see this awesome glory and it will make it all okay. But I realize now that this glory is formed and revealed in us as we suffer today. And the more we suffer with Jesus (and not in isolation of him), and the more you see the difference when others suffer alone, the easier it is to recognize the amazing weight of that glory that is anchoring me through whatever may come.
When Mark first called about the shoes, I felt a little weight in my heart and almost told him I just couldn't do it. But I realized that Mark - and Midi were she here - would be glad to have her belongings go to those she loved. And if I believe that Midi is not dead in the eternal sense, which I do, then her old belongings were only temporarily hers anyway - just as all of our things are borrowed in the end.
Still, I cried my eyes out for about 10 minutes when I got home. The thing glory will not do is make you numb, and I'm glad for that. As I went about getting ready for bed, I thought how much I look forward to the end - when all of this present suffering will fade away and I'll get to see all loved ones I've lost again. And in the meantime, there's still more glory to be revealed.
As a student in college, now more than 10 years ago, I loved this verse. At the time, I think I loved the idea that nothing in this world could get me down, because God's redemption was so complete it covered even the bad stuff. Of course, at the time, "the bad stuff" consisted of unrequited feelings from boys I liked or an argument with someone in my family.
Fast forward to present day. I drove home today with 3 pairs of shoes in my car that used to belong to my friend Midi, who died almost 2 whole years ago now. Mark, knowing we wore the same shoe size, let me know he was starting to clean out the closet. Along the way, I talked to my friend, Hideo, who's cancer is now at least 12 times the size it was when it was found early this year, and who has now been told by more than one doctor that there is very little they can do. Friends have been married and divorced, family and friends' families have passed away (some tragically) and the world of present sufferings can feel downright overwhelming.
But the weight of glory has proved its worth as well, as only time and suffering can truly test. It's funny -- I always understood the glory to be a future thing, like one day when we all die and go to heaven, we'll get to see this awesome glory and it will make it all okay. But I realize now that this glory is formed and revealed in us as we suffer today. And the more we suffer with Jesus (and not in isolation of him), and the more you see the difference when others suffer alone, the easier it is to recognize the amazing weight of that glory that is anchoring me through whatever may come.
When Mark first called about the shoes, I felt a little weight in my heart and almost told him I just couldn't do it. But I realized that Mark - and Midi were she here - would be glad to have her belongings go to those she loved. And if I believe that Midi is not dead in the eternal sense, which I do, then her old belongings were only temporarily hers anyway - just as all of our things are borrowed in the end.
Still, I cried my eyes out for about 10 minutes when I got home. The thing glory will not do is make you numb, and I'm glad for that. As I went about getting ready for bed, I thought how much I look forward to the end - when all of this present suffering will fade away and I'll get to see all loved ones I've lost again. And in the meantime, there's still more glory to be revealed.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
My 5
Tonight I had a conversation with my pastor about my dating life.
Among topics, I asked him for thoughts and advice about male vs. female initiation in dating. As usual, he gave me a well-thought out response that comes not from memorizing rules or mastering a particular argument, but from years and years of counseling couples in real life.
He challenged me to think not about the dos and don'ts, but to think about what I really want. He encouraged me to think about my top 5 deal-breakers, and think about what's actually going on in my relationships, rather than seek a formula for relationship success. When put that way, it cuts the crap and gets right to the point.
It was a helpful conversation, and by the end of it I realized he didn't necessarily tell me anything I hadn't already in some way concluded myself. But it was empowering to remember the responsibility I have in solving my own dilemma. Yet at the same time, I felt him unknowingly call my bluff. My excuses have generally been sung to the tune of, "all of the attractive, interesting guys I'm interested in will never ask me out." But what are my 5 deal-breakers?
I have to admit, I can't say that I know for sure. And I feel a bit of discomfort at the thought of figuring those out. Just a little bit.
Among topics, I asked him for thoughts and advice about male vs. female initiation in dating. As usual, he gave me a well-thought out response that comes not from memorizing rules or mastering a particular argument, but from years and years of counseling couples in real life.
He challenged me to think not about the dos and don'ts, but to think about what I really want. He encouraged me to think about my top 5 deal-breakers, and think about what's actually going on in my relationships, rather than seek a formula for relationship success. When put that way, it cuts the crap and gets right to the point.
It was a helpful conversation, and by the end of it I realized he didn't necessarily tell me anything I hadn't already in some way concluded myself. But it was empowering to remember the responsibility I have in solving my own dilemma. Yet at the same time, I felt him unknowingly call my bluff. My excuses have generally been sung to the tune of, "all of the attractive, interesting guys I'm interested in will never ask me out." But what are my 5 deal-breakers?
I have to admit, I can't say that I know for sure. And I feel a bit of discomfort at the thought of figuring those out. Just a little bit.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
I Heart This Show
...not just because it has both Jason Segel and Neil Patrick Harris, or because they acknowledge things like the girl with crazy eyes or unspoken rules between bros, but because it's fun watching people on TV go through what every single person goes through (well, more or less).
Marshall rules.
Hot Insecure People
I don't think we will ever fully understand the phenomenon. We all know the hot guy who only goes for crazy women, and the hot girl who only goes for losers. And what about those of us who go for that hot guy? Does that make us the crazy in that equation?
Which came first, the chicken or the egg? And where are all the normal people?
Which came first, the chicken or the egg? And where are all the normal people?
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Fireworks and The Man in the Mirror
Just over a week ago, Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed King of Pop, danced his last signature steps in a rehearsal on the grand stage of the Staples Center, then went into cardiac arrest and breathed his last breath not 24 hours later. I was at work running from one meeting to another when a co-worker alerted me to the news before CNN or the LA Times had confirmed it: Michael Jackson was dead.
Since then, DJs have dusted off old LPs of album cuts or singles not played in years, radio stations have created tribute mixes and dedicated days to all-Michael play, television specials on his life and music have been popping up with a quickness only possible for someone with such a prolific career of music and video volume over the 40-year career of his 50-year life. And I, in my own car, have had "Michael" and "Jackson 5" as my two most played artists on my iTunes, processing the death of the man who provided much of the soundtrack of my youth. Videos from the "Thriller" album bring me back to watching Video 1 with Richard Blade in elementary school, songs from "Dangerous" were the anthems of my high school dance production numbers, and the list goes on.
As a DJ, I mourn the death of one of the greatest musical talents in history. Though he hasn't produced a hit in a few years, the finality that Jackson's distinctive, soulful vocals will not appear on any more new releases is a sad thought. As a Gen-Xer, I mourn the closing of a genre -- in a way, Michael was his own -- so closely tied with the development of my musical taste and love of dance growing up. But as a human, I mourn the downward spiral of his life over the years. Growing up literally remembering nothing but being in the public eye, and with a fiercely applause-hungry, over-critical and crazy stage parent of a father, Michael confessed once that the only place he felt safe was on a stage before thousands of people. As impressive as his presence was on that stage of dancers and flashing lights, there appeared to me to be a child who never grew up, and struggled with self-hate and was scared to death of people and relationships. All of this culminated in child molestation charges, excessive plastic surgery and increasingly frequent public displays of weirdness.
Michael's music may have been big enough to cover the multitude of his deep issues, and many will remember his glorious laundry list of #1s over all of the freakishness. But as many thousands there are mourning Michael the King on Tuesday's memorial service at the Staples Center and Nokia, I could bet the number of individuals who actually knew Michael the man could be counted on one hand.
Still, as I watched fireworks celebrating the Fourth of July tonight, my friends and I were sitting too far from the show to hear any music. And in my mind, the silent, spectacular show - like many things - would have been perfect set to some good ol' MJ.
Since then, DJs have dusted off old LPs of album cuts or singles not played in years, radio stations have created tribute mixes and dedicated days to all-Michael play, television specials on his life and music have been popping up with a quickness only possible for someone with such a prolific career of music and video volume over the 40-year career of his 50-year life. And I, in my own car, have had "Michael" and "Jackson 5" as my two most played artists on my iTunes, processing the death of the man who provided much of the soundtrack of my youth. Videos from the "Thriller" album bring me back to watching Video 1 with Richard Blade in elementary school, songs from "Dangerous" were the anthems of my high school dance production numbers, and the list goes on.
As a DJ, I mourn the death of one of the greatest musical talents in history. Though he hasn't produced a hit in a few years, the finality that Jackson's distinctive, soulful vocals will not appear on any more new releases is a sad thought. As a Gen-Xer, I mourn the closing of a genre -- in a way, Michael was his own -- so closely tied with the development of my musical taste and love of dance growing up. But as a human, I mourn the downward spiral of his life over the years. Growing up literally remembering nothing but being in the public eye, and with a fiercely applause-hungry, over-critical and crazy stage parent of a father, Michael confessed once that the only place he felt safe was on a stage before thousands of people. As impressive as his presence was on that stage of dancers and flashing lights, there appeared to me to be a child who never grew up, and struggled with self-hate and was scared to death of people and relationships. All of this culminated in child molestation charges, excessive plastic surgery and increasingly frequent public displays of weirdness.
Michael's music may have been big enough to cover the multitude of his deep issues, and many will remember his glorious laundry list of #1s over all of the freakishness. But as many thousands there are mourning Michael the King on Tuesday's memorial service at the Staples Center and Nokia, I could bet the number of individuals who actually knew Michael the man could be counted on one hand.
Still, as I watched fireworks celebrating the Fourth of July tonight, my friends and I were sitting too far from the show to hear any music. And in my mind, the silent, spectacular show - like many things - would have been perfect set to some good ol' MJ.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
A Fine Bro-mance
Last night I went to see "I Love You, Man," the latest bro-mantic comedy, the latest blockbuster formula in Hollywood. Paul Rudd plays Peter, a chronic boyfriend -- sensitive, honest, thoughtful, and more comfortable with the opposite sex (we all know that guy). When he gets engaged, his fiancee encourages him to fill out their wedding party with some of his best friends, and he embarks on a series of man-dates in search of a BFF.
When Peter finds his match made in heaven, it's in the free-love, free-thought, intuitive quasi-bohemian Sydney, played by Jason Segel. But unlike the romantic comedies of yore, this friendship is all about embracing their testosterone-driven, lustful inner animal. Unlike Peter, Sydney is way in touch with his man-side, and encourages Peter to yawp and masturbate his way there as well.
This is not the first time I've walked out of a movie about love and relationships realizing that I am no longer the target audience. It follows a string of male-centered romantic/friendship comedies is dominating screens big and small. Characters like Turk and J.D., Andy the 40-year-old virgin, and just about anyone played by Josh Rogan are in good company. They encourage bachelors everywhere to throw the Prince Charming of the female genre out the window, and give them the real man in all of his imperfect, unfaithful, impulsive and sometimes downright disgusting tendencies. (Hey, in spirit of bromance, I'm just keepin' it real.) They thank Greg Behrent and Judd Apatow for helping them get their balls back.
I find it a fascinating turn in our culture that the bromance points to. After the metrosexual phenomenon has become everyday, and more and more men are just as concerned with their appearance as women are, it turns out they have also become just as obsessed with the perfect girl as we are with the perfect guy -- and their fantasies just as full of issues.
Although I have mixed feelings about the overall message bromance is trying to make (about as mixed as my feelings towards the female version), I gotta say the former is way more entertaining to me overall. I don't know what that says about me. I've never been much of a traditional romantic, and maybe I'm finding myself feeling out-womaned by men.
When Peter finds his match made in heaven, it's in the free-love, free-thought, intuitive quasi-bohemian Sydney, played by Jason Segel. But unlike the romantic comedies of yore, this friendship is all about embracing their testosterone-driven, lustful inner animal. Unlike Peter, Sydney is way in touch with his man-side, and encourages Peter to yawp and masturbate his way there as well.
This is not the first time I've walked out of a movie about love and relationships realizing that I am no longer the target audience. It follows a string of male-centered romantic/friendship comedies is dominating screens big and small. Characters like Turk and J.D., Andy the 40-year-old virgin, and just about anyone played by Josh Rogan are in good company. They encourage bachelors everywhere to throw the Prince Charming of the female genre out the window, and give them the real man in all of his imperfect, unfaithful, impulsive and sometimes downright disgusting tendencies. (Hey, in spirit of bromance, I'm just keepin' it real.) They thank Greg Behrent and Judd Apatow for helping them get their balls back.
I find it a fascinating turn in our culture that the bromance points to. After the metrosexual phenomenon has become everyday, and more and more men are just as concerned with their appearance as women are, it turns out they have also become just as obsessed with the perfect girl as we are with the perfect guy -- and their fantasies just as full of issues.
Although I have mixed feelings about the overall message bromance is trying to make (about as mixed as my feelings towards the female version), I gotta say the former is way more entertaining to me overall. I don't know what that says about me. I've never been much of a traditional romantic, and maybe I'm finding myself feeling out-womaned by men.
Monday, February 09, 2009
A Very Rainy Day
Today I found out my good friend DJ Hideo has been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, which has also spread to his liver.
After spending a good part of today driving in the rain in tears or fighting them, I can't describe how sad this makes me, or how terrifying it is to even think of losing another loved one. In a world full of competition and lack of regard for others, it is rare to find someone who genuinely cares for others and who's pleasure it is to do so. At times I have felt alone in the world of the DJ, or at times like even friends are more motivated by self-interest. But despite his credentials of 20+ years as a professional DJ, regarded well by his colleagues around the world, Hideo has always been a presence of joy and safety to me, and true friendship. And the thought of his life being at risk is deeply saddening to me.
I only met Hideo in 2006. It is amazing how quickly a person can find a home in your heart. Kindness is a powerful thing, and as easily as it binds people together, the strength of it makes the thought of loss all the more painful.
Please join me in praying for Hideo and his family.
At Barcopa, my first residency given to me by Hideo
After spending a good part of today driving in the rain in tears or fighting them, I can't describe how sad this makes me, or how terrifying it is to even think of losing another loved one. In a world full of competition and lack of regard for others, it is rare to find someone who genuinely cares for others and who's pleasure it is to do so. At times I have felt alone in the world of the DJ, or at times like even friends are more motivated by self-interest. But despite his credentials of 20+ years as a professional DJ, regarded well by his colleagues around the world, Hideo has always been a presence of joy and safety to me, and true friendship. And the thought of his life being at risk is deeply saddening to me.
I only met Hideo in 2006. It is amazing how quickly a person can find a home in your heart. Kindness is a powerful thing, and as easily as it binds people together, the strength of it makes the thought of loss all the more painful.
Please join me in praying for Hideo and his family.
At Barcopa, my first residency given to me by Hideo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
