Sauna

Two sets of inclined bench press, then three sets of curl-ups. Four sets of butterfly, then six sets of triceps. Two more of each inclined bench press and curl-ups. Ten minutes of running with jogging intervals. Drank a bottle of gatorade throughout. Hit the showers then spa, warm to hot, then to cold. Finally, the sauna.

Two friends were fatigued. The workout has drained the last ounce of their energy as if age hadn't enough already, but not their friendship. They enjoyed each other's presence. Lying down in the steamy sauna, it was hard to make out what was in front of them.

A friend asked to the other, "What does it mean to be an idealist? Can it mean a fool without perception of reality?" The other friend acquiesced, "Romanticist would be a good synonym."

"Then what do you call an idealist who is capable enough to have his ideas put into reality, be able to have what others considered churlish propositions elusive of reality into practicality? Does it no longer mean that the person is an idealist because he became a realist by his action? It doesn't seem fair to idealists, and then only the realists will take credit for everything, while idealists will continue to be considered as fools."

The sauna was reheating the moist room with more steam. The sound resonating with heightened temperature.

The other friend replied, "No, I would call him a miracle-maker."

Each was briefly preoccupied by the thought, more so for the one who brought up the topic.
'Miracle-maker,' he thought. Having made the last response, the friend continued, "There aren't many in this world."

The steam was thick; heater turned off. Silence lingered and it was visible through the steam.

Finally one friend broke the silence, "Fuck, it's getting hot."
"It burns, it burns!" screamed the other as they got up closer to the ceiling on their way out.

Beyond Realization

I know that my time in this world is temporary. I find purpose not of this world, but in afterlife. But the ironic twist of this belief is that I have no clue as to what exactly awaits for me there. I've been given only a simple task to live this life with love for God, which to many seems foolish, and not so even clear as to how to do so myself. There are times when I am assured of my life's value in God, but in many other, I feel like I am deceived by my own justification to compensate the feeling of defeat in this world.

There's a comforting quote in the Bible that I can do anything through His grace. You can move the mountain with faith as little as mustard seed. I feel like a child again, full of dreams and wishes that are limited by none other. Yet, cynicism during the moments of my doubt elicits the greater fear of failure within me. Yes, at this moment, I may not see even the glimpse of what is capable to me through His grace, but what really is the boundary which can be surpassed with "mustard seed"? I feel better and more awakened by turning toward God. However, I feel like there's a link missing between me and His plans for me. Straightforwardly speaking, I am struggling to break out of bonds which have been blinding me from pursuing my true identity, duty, and happiness.

If I were to animate this phase of my life, it'd be a man chained to a tree on an island for so long. He has been budging continuously at times with futility, passion, hope, and despair which eventually broke the chain through incessant friction. There are vestiges of struggle in the chain as much as on his body, yet the initial escape has awakened him to pursue the greater freedom with enthusiasm. He does not belong in that island; he realized.

This is where I am. I tried looking for ships or planes. I tried writing on the beach. I've lit torches at night. I've lit fire to cause smoke. I've had dreams of myself just flying out of this island with celestial wings. Each time the initial enthusiasm abating. But the real danger is not the sense of being marooned; because I cannot be isolated when God is with me, although the world might think otherwise. I am afraid of becoming complacent in this island. I fear that I will learn to enjoy the emerald beach, the cool shades of exotic trees, and stability of peace in this island. And for all these, I am grateful nevertheless, but I will never come to appreciate to a greater extent than the boundaries here. There's nothing wrong with this choice of life, nor do I want to be judgmental of similar others. In fact, I can live a great life, a grateful and loving one, with God on this island. Also, it is not just my need to voraciously feed my curiosity to venture what lies before my eyes beyond this beautiful blue horizon. It is just that I cannot seem to extinguish the inextinguishable. This feeling, once again, that I do not belong here just cannot be blanketed. I've tried, but the more I try, I uncover just to see if it has disappeared; its presence more significantly defined ironically.

So the wise thing for me to do is to exploit the natural resources within this island, and build myself my own freedom. So much easier said than done. This is when the title of today's blog has its meaning. I realize what must be done. Beyond it, it requires belief and action. No one can come in to hand me a key to a boat. Because either God or I will not allow it; it's our relationship. So I know, but I'm tired. At this moment, I am not devising any plans or drawing any blueprints to the escape. Rather, I am sitting down on that beach even more dissuaded by the rain: only cogitating the plan.

Sigh~ (current status of deficiency in status quo)

It's been a while. I have kept myself occupied with relentless yearning for any improvement in the subject of studying, which will determine next four years of my academic experience; furthermore, it will surely influence my life to a greater extent. I have been diligent and persistent (never have I been to this extremity committed myself), yet this drudgery has failed me miserably. Come to think of it, I have never doubted myself as much as I have been these past couple days. I have never realized the fear of failure. I have never come to an acquiescence with my shortcomings. I consoled each time that it was the celestial method of maintaining humility, but without a glimpse of chance, even my condolence seemed pathetic.

Being too overwhelmed with my incapabilities to that of the inevitable obstacles, I boldly took two days off from my normal schedules.

Friday - After dinner, I didn't feel like doing anything. I skipped going to the gym and the study room. I laid on my bed, dully flipping through channels. The amusement was ephemeral, then sudden guilt of exposing myself to lack of creativity soon led me to another event. I was not fully convicted to go back to my studies, yet I decided to draw instead. Somehow, the art channel at 2 in the morning inspired me to vent off my stress in such fashion. So I turned off all my lights except the computer monitor displaying "Windows Media Player visual" with my favorite CD (Mika Nakashima) playing through my headset. I ended up with a piece called "Frustration" with water-colored pencils having dark backgrounds in uncertain patterns. Then in it, there is a person with flying hairs running away to nowhere (drawn distinctively with a red pen). Also there were irregular red lines all over the page with the intent of shaping a brain. In it, there are subliminal messages, "STUCK" and etc. It became 5 AM and I retired.

Saturday - I woke up at noon. Watched more TV programs, and dozed off on my sofa at 5 PM. Woke up from a nap(?) at half-past ten. Still angry, I refused to look at the study materials. Spent more time with idle box until I fell asleep.

Sunday - I got a blister on my lower lip. It was strange, because I knew I wasn't tired. Stress level starting to manifest, I was reminded of irritation. Going to church never seemed as hard as today, but it was something I have promised myself and to this date, it is probably the only successful new year's resolution, so I took resistant steps towards it. The gist of today's sermon was this, 'are our obedience, the impetus of selfish manipulation, or pure admiration for God?' I was, once again, appalled with my shortcoming. There were many times when I would vividly imagine my success and acclaim God's glory, but deep in my heart, I was more motivated by selfish desires, desire to let others know of my intellect, my success, my pride, my status, my integrity, my potential, and endless list of 'my ______ '. The truth of the matter is, I was keeping faithful of my religious practices and attitudes thinking that, despite others' ways of success, mine came from fidelity in God. After all, He is the infinite Giver of His capabilities for those who have definite faith in Him. I do not have even the slightest doubt about Him, but I became frail by the fact that perhaps I do not deserve His grace. Then it was today's message that had wakened me that I was just being manipulative.

So, I am at an impasse. I haven't the slightest idea of how I'm going to get past this phase. But what I came to conclude was that, my problems are insignificant compared to other matters of this world. I will just carry on with uncertainty of my success, but at least with certainty that I will not become ignominious at heart towards God, and also that my efforts will not fail Him, who wishes the best for me.


picture: http://www.google.co.kr/imglanding?q=frustration&um=1&hl=ko&newwindow=1&sa=N&tbs=isch:1&tbnid=Pg932K-7K4HM7M:&imgrefurl=http://www.robertomoretti.com/blog/&imgurl=http://farm1.static.flickr.com/119/296367267_b035d8f908.jpg&ei=sBWPTa3cJ4uIvgO-wIycDQ&zoom=1&w=500&h=333&iact=hc&oei=QBWPTdLQNIjevQPnqLyuDQ&page=13&tbnh=129&tbnw=194&start=175&ndsp=13&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:175&biw=1024&bih=612

엄마.

Edison had many questions which seemed impertinent at that moment. Nevertheless, he became as we all know.

"엄마, 왜 엄마는 엄마의 엄마를 엄마라고 부르는데, 왜 난 엄마의 엄마를 엄마라고
 부르지 못하는거야, 엄마?"

"야, 임마!"

Any guesses on what she will become?
Leave your answers on the comment box below.

Five Minutes in Life Will Suffice (dedicated to Susan)

She lit up her cigarette backward, "Fuck!". Convulsed by the terror of test being positive, she threw and lit up another one. Devastated by each second, she hesitated at the parking lot of municipal health clinic. She despised everything in her view, the old lady and the dog walking past her, amiable little girl licking her ice cream with her hand bolstered by her mom before crossing, people in their business attires talking over their cellulars, the warming sun and even the cool breeze, and etc. 

She never had difficulties with money, her parents were devote Christians, and she had many friends, although her parents admonished her from being close with them. She was smart, and also attractive; more reasons to believe she was better and could do better than others in life. She never tried her best though, or her best was restricted by her complacency and self-justification that she could do better whenever she wanted to. But her determination invariably fell short.

She knew way too much in her head than for her own good. She knew everything but never experienced the real core of themes in life. She was logical, but not practical. She knew by her head, but the conviction had never reached to her heart. She judged others and never found satisfaction in life even in her complacency.

Because of her dire situation at the given moment, she started to look back on her life. The darker past seemed to be highlighted by her hatred in life, now. After all, she could be waiting for her death sentence.

'Oh, how I wish I had never met that fucker. I knew he was an asshole... I should have been more careful not to get caught... I'm going to kill that bitch who embarrassed me by lambasting humiliation before everyone in the class... My life is messed up because my parents would never let me be... my father is too naive, that's why he got betrayed by his own friends... my mother too demanding... my brother, a total fuck-up who took away my parents from me... pastor was a sheer hypocrite...'

Filled with unbearable anger, her eyes reddened. "Why me, why the fuck me! Why...". People noticed her in the corner abruptly as she yelled and sobbed, but continued about their businesses.

Then, having vent out her anger, she took a deep breath. The video footage of her birth and her parents being strangely young celebrating in the small hospital room flashed through her mind. How happy they were even to tears holding her. She started to remember how she had, not only turned him down, but broke this guy's heart by purposely going out with his best friend for a dare between her friends. How she nightmarishly haunted this outcast in her class throughout high school years. Once, she had felt the hotness of her tear during her baptism. She was too weak now.

She sat on the curb carelessly, hopelessly, and helplessly. No more tears, but she had a face as if she had lived her capacity. As soon as she lit up another cigarette, one of the nurse came out calling out her name. She looked, and the nurse being polite as she could said, "You were supposed to wait in the waiting room. The doctor will see you now."

She didn't say a word. Her fingers failed the cigarette she was holding. Then she followed the nurse into the building.

...

As soon as she walked out of the sliding doors back into the parking lot, she loosened her composure and broke into quiet tears. The sun was still bright outside. She clasped her hands and as if she was given another chance; she closed her eyes tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...", she chanted incessantly. She got herself together and noticed the cigarette on the ground still lit. Last several minutes, she has been through so much. As she walked over to the littered cigarette, another girl came out behind her, crying violently. She froze, she stopped breathing, and she dared not to look back. She couldn't. She trembled surreptitiously and kept her eyes shut tight, as if the crying girl was a beast ready to devour her.

Whatever was cascading from her eyes was visible even just through her beastly roar. Fortunately, it seemed to fade away slowly. And slowly, she opened her eyes. But covered her mouth quickly. That could've been her, and she knew the poor girl would've given anything to be in her place now. She would. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but she could only drudge her footsteps into the light.

Afterword: Shamelessly, I post this short-story. As I got up this afternoon, lighting my first cigarette of the day, I realized how fortunate I was. From my room window, I saw people working at a remodeling site. Whether they chose that life or by limitations of life that they are confined into such occupations, I do not intend on degrading their quality of life, rather I see how spoiled I am with abundance of resources to have more options in life. Then from these site constructors, I shifted by vividly imagining people in third-world countries living unanimously-agreed poorer quality of life. Then to people who are even more doomed. Then to people who are living in hellish penury and worse conditions of life. Being ebbed with my imaginations to the worst condition of life possible, I became more and more grateful each time. I became humble. What I realized was that I used to perpetually compare myself to someone "better" (in the sense of secular perspective), or at the least to someone with similar status. Then I put out the cigarette. About five minutes, this is all it took, to be grateful rather than becoming irritated by my life compared to "better" others. So I wrote this story.

Questions that occupy me.

Finding myself incompetent to allocate my given time, I cannot write awesome short-stories like my friend (ok, I will be honest, maybe time is not the only factor). He is a true talent in my opinion. Partly the fact that I admire him as a friend can eliminate my eligibility to be a nonpartisan critic, but nevertheless I am a person just like any other, a true admirer of beauty. Enough about him and my excuse, I would like to share gist of thoughts that occupy me these days. Remember, I quit drinking and most of my social life which dwelled on indulgence of alcohol and vain worries, or for me it seemed. Naturally, I have more time to worry about which seems harder to solve.

Why do we live as if we are going to live forever?
Why do we live as if more wealth will lead to successful life?
And for that such purpose, why do we neglect our present?
For that matter, are we, the human race, designed to live in the past, present, or future?
Why do we think to ourselves, if I was in that admiring person's shoes, my life will be complete?
And ungratefully oblivious to the fact that we are at present living someone else's dream?
When did we become so self-centered? Did the society persuade us into believing so, or the other way around?
Why do we habitually sponsor the phrase, "only God can judge me" when we don't actually believe in Him?
Also, why do we think we are so special that only God can judge us when we judge others perpetually (how they look, what family, school, occupation, social status they come from?).

But for those who are rare in this world, who give up the "norms" of modern "philosophy" of humanity, I am honestly blown by the fact that they gave up "successful" life for the cause of others' welfare. What did they read? What they think? What did they eat? Who are their parents? What was their childhood like? What they believe in? What was their disease? What the hell was wrong with them? I am struggling to know, and yet I am not fully convicted. My mind's solitary confinement has led me to turn my perspectives to these rare few, while this would not have happened if I was still getting wasted by my past preference of life. I am not saying I am convicted to do and know what's better in life, nor do I think different people's life motivations are not legit. But let's stop and think about above questions and critically compare ourselves amongst each other.

"I want a big house, I want a fast car, I want the job, I want a trophy wife, I want to be famous, I want to be rich, I want to live long," says the most.

"I want you to have shelter, I want you be able to walk, I want you to have a job, I want you to have love, I want you to be treated with respect, I want you to have foods for your family, I want you to be healthy, I want you to live life," says the rare few.

Priest and doctor: Lee, Tae-suk

Dr. Albert Schuweitzer

Right: Jim Elliot and his friends

Jesus

(the few of the fews)

Love

So many people hold many different definitions of love. For example, love is sweet, love is great, love is sacrificial, love is being willing to die for, or live for, and etc. Well, this is mine.

"I am fully convicted of my iniquities and the burden of guilt that invariably follows, yet He sentenced me Love."

-IJSY

(nice~ huh? yea... i know.)