Understanding

Posted on February 15, 2012 by matthewcook

Yesterday, a jillion people uttered the words, “I love you.”

I think that’s nice. Good for you, jillion people.

I’ve heard it said that those three words are the nicest words anyone can hear. But I think there are two better ones.

“I understand.”

I get you. I see where you’re coming from. I can see how that makes sense. I respect that.

Me and my wife, believe it or not, disagree on stuff. And not just little stuff like who should pick the kid up from school. Large, world-view kinda stuff. Stuff that would get one or both of us kicked out of certain clubs and circles. I was once warned that these sorts of disagreements would lead to marital problems.

But as love covers a multitude of sins,
So also does understanding cover a multitude of opinions.

I never ask Ruth to see things the way I do. That would be ridiculous and evil. All I ask is that she understand. And she does. Readily. Quickly. With a smile and a funny quip. And I understand her. We see where each other is coming from, even when we’re not coming from the same place.

And I think that’s one of the main reasons why our relationship is so good. People are always tempted to base their love on something.

     “Why do you love me?”
     “Because you’re clever.”
     “Because you make me laugh.”
     “Because you’re nice.”
     “Because my body wants your body.”
     “Because you think like I do.”
     “Because…”
     “Because…”
     “Because…”

Why do we love each other? None of the above. No reason. At least, none that I can think of.

Sure, Ruth is clever and she makes me laugh and she’s nice and my body certainly wants her body. But if all those things were gone, the love would still be there. The love just is. So I’m not threatened when her mind and conscience take her to a different place than my mind and conscience take me. When we are in different place, we find that we can still hold hands despite the distance. We respect each other’s minds and don’t judge each other.

Someone once asked, “But what will you teach your kids if you disagree on so many things?”

Silly, haven’t you been listening? We will teach them love and understanding. Everything else is optional.

Entropy

Posted on February 13, 2012 by matthewcook

Does entropy ever bother you?

They say that all energy will eventually fizzle and turn useless. They say the universe will turn cold and all life and information and movement will cease. All the songs will be silenced. All the stories will be forgotten. Every trace of human wisdom, love, and hope will fade from the cosmos, leaving not even an echo behind. So it goes.

The thought makes me shudder.

It makes you shudder, too, even though you know you won’t be around to experience it. There is something deeply disturbing about end of all things. About the final death. It’s sick. It’s perverted. It’s madness.

I think we’ve always seen it coming. The ancients knew that all good things come to an end. But they didn’t accept it. They couldn’t. They raged against it.

The ancient seers flung out their prophecies, calling for the ultimate death of death. They claimed that all these decaying things around us would be reconciled and made well again. They spoke of a pinnacle of existence, better than the one we find ourselves in, where there is no entropy. They claimed that those who sought after glory, honor, and immortality would be a part of it.

Sounds too good to be true.

But, you know, it’s the madness of entropy that makes me think those prophets could be right. It’s the utter terror of the thought of nothingness that makes me think there could never be nothing. That makes me dare to hope that our stories will never fully fade away. That makes be wonder if death, indeed, will die.

Eternity is bound up in the heart of Man. Does that suggest we are meant to dwell in a realm that does not decay?

I think so.

I may be wrong. It could be that this universe is all there is. It could be that when the last human fades and dies, all our spirit and love will die with him or her.

Or perhaps the kingdom of heaven will come. And death will be brought to trial and done away with. And perhaps the stories and songs will never end and the sun will never set. And perhaps the weight of affliction of this dark world will not be worthy to be compared to the glory to be revealed on that day. And we will laugh and dance with those ancient prophets who searched the human and divine spirit to predict that glorious morning.

Either way, what can we do but rage against the dying of the light?

So it goes.

The Life You Always Wanted

Posted on January 27, 2012 by matthewcook

You’ve screwed up. So have I, I guess. That’s the way it goes, sometimes. What are you going to do about it?

Usually we re-live it. We put our minds there and run through the screw-up again and again. So instead of screwing up once, we screw up everyday. The same screw-up. It sucks.

Keep it up and you’ll die full of regrets.

Ever wondered what it would be like to know you were going to die? People talk about the choices they’d make if they found out they had a terminal illness. People say they’d call up old friends and right old wrongs and tell off enemies and live life the way they’d always dreamed of living it. I don’t really get that.

Because I am dying. And so are you. We’ve all been diagnosed with a terminal illness – mortality. No one beats it. 100% casualty rate.

You know what I’d change in my life if I found out I had terminal cancer? Not much. To be honest, I’m already living the way I want to.

I have a family that gives me nothing but joy. I am slowly but surely working toward my creative dreams. I am just about the happiest person I know.

Because I know I’m dying.

So I don’t pay much attention to the mistakes I’ve made. I don’t re-live them. I don’t whine about not having enough time to follow my dreams. Because I don’e have time to whine. I’m dying. And there’s nothing like living like you were dying.

Your Life is a Story

Posted on January 25, 2012 by matthewcook

Source: xkcd

Your life is a story.

Is it boring?
Would it make the Reader yawn and want to skip pages just to get to the end?

Is it irrelevant?
Would it make the Reader wonder why he bought the book in the first place?

Is it selfish?
Would it annoy the Reader with its blatant narcissism?

Is it heroic?
Would it make the Reader cheer as you go about your quests for justice?

Is it authentic?
Would it make the Reader look at his own heart to see if he is living an honest life, like you are?

Is it lovely?
Would the Reader smile with joy as he seems the world in the shining light that you see it in?

Is it important?
Would it change the Reader and make his world a better place?

Everyone you meet is a Reader. Do they believe your story?

Nothing Resolved

Posted on January 2, 2012 by matthewcook

Here is my list of this New Year’s resolutions:

As you can tell, my chances for success are high.

I don’t do resolutions. Historically, they have hurt my chances of doing the things I want to do.

Here’s what usually happens to people like me: At the dawn of a new year, I write up an admirable list of things I want to accomplish. Stuff about getting into shape, producing something creative and reaching some spiritual milestone. I make an action plan, tell my friends, print some motivational posters and am sprinting off the blocks.

It goes well for a few weeks. Then, in a sudden, dark moment, I stop caring. I fail once.

I remember the failure the next day. I still know how it tastes and I cannot shake the knowledge that I failed my resolution. I keep trying for a while, but it’s tainted now. By March, it’s all a memory.

So I stopped making resolutions. Instead, I create habits.

Habits grow naturally if you cultivate them. Resolutions, like stone walls, tend to crack.

To write a book, I don’t sit down and resolve to do it. Instead, I habitually write.

It started slow. First I’d write a couple times a month. I was never bothered that I didn’t write more because I had not resolved anything. There was no standard to give me guilt. After a while, I was writing a couple times a week. Now I write every single day. The habit has formed. There was no need for resolutions. In fact, had I made resolutions, I would have been depressed in the beginning that I was only writing a few times a month. And that would have weakened my resolve and the goal might have died.

I generally succeed in the things I want to succeed at. And that’s a special thing. Because most people just dream of the things they want to have in their lives.

Each and every second is new. January 1st is a date we made up. We might as well call April 16th at 4:34pm the new year. Your new start is whenever you want it to be. Make a new habit.

When Was the Last Time You Played?

Posted on December 7, 2011 by matthewcook

When was the last time you listened to a favorite song and pretended you were the lead singer?
When was the last time you built a fort?
When was the last time you wore something silly just because it looked silly?
When was the last time you talked to a stranger?
When was the last time you danced in public?
When was the last time you played with a toy boat in the bath?
When was the last time you drew a picture with crayons?
When was the last time you played with Lego?
When was the last time you climbed a tree?
When was the last time you jumped from couch to chair, pretending the floor was lava?
When was the last time you pretended to be a dinosaur?
When was the last time you played in the rain?
When was the last time you did a cartwheel?
When was the last time you ate something weird?
When was the last time you jumped in a puddle?
When was the last time you had a pillow fight?
When was the last time you imagined you were someone else?
When was the last time you dyed your hair a ridiculous colour?
When was the last time you wore something because you liked it, instead of because everyone else dresses that way?
When was the last time you believed you could change the world?
When was the last time you were entranced by a trick of light?
When was the last time you read a joke book?
When was the last time you went to bed excited about the upcoming day?

When was the last time you refused to let society define what it means to ‘act your age?’
When was the last time you played?

Buying a Skateboard

Posted on November 21, 2011 by matthewcook

I saw a skateboard in Value Village today. It was pretty slick. I hopped on it and pushed myself around a bit. I can’t skate. Never really tried. But in that moment, I wanted it. I wanted it bad.

So the wheels in my head started turning as I desperately tried to stay upright. Should I buy it? I thought of all the other crazy things I’ve tried picking up over the years.

There’s that cool ocarina I got off the Internet. It may be one of the coolest instruments in the universe. I was going to learn to play it and wander around hillsides, stopping in at taverns and playing for my supper. Where is it now? In some drawer somewhere.

There’s that book I have that teaches you how to turn old T-shirts into usable clothes. I got a sewing machine and made a laundry bag and a couple sexy shirts for my wife. Where is it now? I actually am not sure.

And there’s that that pair of Rollerblades I was sure I would use to zip around Toronto, reducing my carbon footprint and tuning my body into that of a bronzed god. The skates are packed in a storage bin and my body is far too squishy to belong to any self-respecting god.

Wow. So it looks like I don’t complete the things I start. I looked down at the skateboard and prepared to toss it away.

But wait.

I got a guitar when I was young. Kinda kept at it. I can still kinda play, too. Gives me joy.

I tried writing stuff when I was in Pakistan. Kept at it. Finished a few dozen poems, short stories and 1.99 novels now. It’s my thing.

Wanted to learn a second language. Aur abhi mujhe Urdu ati hai. Alhumduallah!

Whoa! I finish some stuff.

So when I look at the skateboard at my feet, I gotta ask myself only one question: “Will I be bound by precedent? Or will I strike out and try new things, fully aware that I don’t always finish them? Will I stay doing the things I’ve always done or will I stretch myself and evolve?”

In the spring, I’m gonna find me a skateboard. Maybe I’ll use it twice and never touch it again. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn how to use it. Maybe I’ll cruise around town on it. Maybe it’ll become a new, vibrant part of my life like Urdu and writing.

Better to waste some resources in the pursuit of new skills and experiences than to sit around doing the same thing over and over again.

So go out! Take a yoga class! Try barefoot jogging! Learn parkour! Try a LARP! Do something new and forget about whether you will keep doing it or not. You’ll be dead soon, after all. And it’s better to have a dozen unfinished experiences behind you than to have nothing at all.

Can’t Have it All

Posted on October 24, 2011 by matthewcook

You can’t have it all. Where would you put it?

I never really wanted it all. I wanted a lot. But not all. Some things just don’t appeal.

I wanted a lot, though. And it seemed reasonable. I wanted to excel as a family man. I wanted to write novels and get paid for it. I wanted a stellar blog that was updated every day and earned a million positive comments. I wanted to get a degree of some kind, like mathematics or anthropology. I wanted to like under a Neem tree in rural Sindh. I wanted to rock faces at WoW, 3v3 (Shadowplay ftw!). I wanted to read every book ever written. I wanted this. I wanted that.

But where would I put it all?

A day is like a room. It only fits so much. And when it gets overcrowded, you run the risk of damaging some of your stuff.

Can’t have it all. Gotta toss some stuff out. Or at least cut back.

I tried so hard to blog every weekday while writing sermons and novels and playing with my kids and dating my wife and practicing guitar and doing yoga and reading Urdu and playing craft and doing protests and going to work and reading Hemingway and HOLY CRAP ARGH!

Can’t do it all. Because when you try to do it all, you suck at everything.

So I’m going to do it some.

People first, of course. Especially the wife and kids. Because that’s where love and the future are.
Writing second. That’s the dream and I’m not ready to let it go after so much progress.

Everything else?

Don’t rush me. Still trying to find shelf space for the first two.

How much are you trying to accomplish? Is it too much?

Sweat the Hard Stuff

Posted on September 13, 2011 by matthewcook

The hardest stuff is always the best.

I’m tired right now. I gave a sermon on Sunday. It was inspired by a conversation four angry Baptists had that I overheard. I’m always wrecked two days after giving a sermon. Preaching is, honestly, one of the funnest things in the universe. Stressful, tense, but fun. But it drains every drop of emotional, mental and creative energy I have. Come Tuesday, I have an IQ of 60, lack the imagination to draw a circle and nearly weep when I see an ugly cat.

So it’s hard to do the hard stuff in the week following a sermon.

Which sucks, because the hard stuff is the best stuff.

When you have to sweat a bit to create or consume something.

When it’s tough, but you’re still good enough to pull it off.

Reading a profound poem.

Writing an emotional scene.

Cooking a pot of palak paneer that makes your Pakistani wife go ‘Hai Allah!”

Those are great.

Those are hard.

Especially after draining myself on a Sunday morning.

The Illiterate Scribe

Matthew Cook

Tag Archives: life