I have a new favorite quote from "The Office"
"You cheated on me, when I specifically asked you not to?"
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Like it's Your First
I don't remember if I've posted on this idea at all before, but if I have, forgive me, because I feel like talking about it again.
There are plenty of people who talk about living each day of our lives as if it is our last. I know what they mean, that they want to be uninhibited, do the things they've always wanted to do, but are normally too afraid to do, because they can't foresee all the consequences. They want to quit their jobs and go to Peru, or do something outrageous. And I think the most admirable piece of this position is that they want to live without worrying about tomorrow, like Jesus taught us. I applaud that, but I think they're missing the point of what Jesus was saying. I don't think Jesus was saying, don't worry about tomorrow, because I'll fix whatever stupid thing you do today. His words were a call to faith and obedience, both wholehearted and incredibly courageous. So mainly, I think this idea of living each day like it's our last is just too abstract; it's too confusing. It clashes with our reasoning.
I propose that we live each day like it's our first. Now, of course, I don't mean that we should live like we were just born, anymore than those others mean we should live like we were 110 years old, too old and weak to get out of bed. What I mean is that we should look at each day as a fresh start, a new opportunity. We should also approach life with a sort of bright-eyed "faith-of-a-child" attitude. Having that courageous faith I was talking about earlier requires us to approach life and God with an unadulterated mind, untouched by the cynicism of age. Now of course, this is just as much a specified analogy, with a lot of holes if you take it too far. We need wisdom and learning to guide us on our way. We need to learn from our experiences along the way, treasure the lessons and the memories. But here is probably my biggest point: we cannot be tied to what has happened before, as if that is all that can happen again. If you feel God let you down, let it go - it's a new day. If you are disappointed with your lot, let it go - it's a new day. Letting go of the past is essential to moving on to a new life, even if "the past" is five minutes ago.
As I'm making this distinction, I'm reminded of the movie Groundhog Day, which I'm sure most of you have seen since it's on TV every year in February, and not a few times on other days of the year. When Bill Murray starts out his cycle of Feb 2nd's, he suddenly realized there are no consequences. He lives each day like it's the last day of his life, stuffing himself, sleeping around, drinking heavily, jumping off cliffs, doing things no sane man would do, because he can. But as the days go on and on, starting over and over, he begins to realize that none of it was what he wanted. So he has to change his thinking. He starts to live each day fresh. He learns to play piano, he helps his neighbors, he does favors, he perfects the smallest acts of kindness, he begins to live each day like it's the first day of a bright and brilliant future. It's kind of a new look at that movie for me, and I like it.
Anyway, I'm realizing now that what I'm talking about is basically the cliche, today is the first day of the rest of your life, and I'm writing this to shy away from cliches, and that really pisses me off. Not really, but I think I have a valid point, because I'm tired of people saying to live today like it's your last. Because it's not your last, and you shouldn't live it like it's your last. But it is your first, in a very real sense, because you are not who you were yesterday - you've changed, you've grown, or maybe you've shrunk, you've learned, or maybe you've forgotten, you've eaten and pooped, your cells have died, and you've made new ones, you've had new experiences, even if they were similar to most of your other experiences, you're a different person, and today is a brand new day for you, so it is definitely a beginning. And if you think, I don't have to live today by yesterday's rules, I don't have to be today what I hated being yesterday, and I can plant a new seed in me that will grow tomorrow, then you've really started something. And I think we're here to start something, and if we end anything, I think it's mainly so that we can start something else. And that's a really positive way of looking at the world, which will only do us some good.
There are plenty of people who talk about living each day of our lives as if it is our last. I know what they mean, that they want to be uninhibited, do the things they've always wanted to do, but are normally too afraid to do, because they can't foresee all the consequences. They want to quit their jobs and go to Peru, or do something outrageous. And I think the most admirable piece of this position is that they want to live without worrying about tomorrow, like Jesus taught us. I applaud that, but I think they're missing the point of what Jesus was saying. I don't think Jesus was saying, don't worry about tomorrow, because I'll fix whatever stupid thing you do today. His words were a call to faith and obedience, both wholehearted and incredibly courageous. So mainly, I think this idea of living each day like it's our last is just too abstract; it's too confusing. It clashes with our reasoning.
I propose that we live each day like it's our first. Now, of course, I don't mean that we should live like we were just born, anymore than those others mean we should live like we were 110 years old, too old and weak to get out of bed. What I mean is that we should look at each day as a fresh start, a new opportunity. We should also approach life with a sort of bright-eyed "faith-of-a-child" attitude. Having that courageous faith I was talking about earlier requires us to approach life and God with an unadulterated mind, untouched by the cynicism of age. Now of course, this is just as much a specified analogy, with a lot of holes if you take it too far. We need wisdom and learning to guide us on our way. We need to learn from our experiences along the way, treasure the lessons and the memories. But here is probably my biggest point: we cannot be tied to what has happened before, as if that is all that can happen again. If you feel God let you down, let it go - it's a new day. If you are disappointed with your lot, let it go - it's a new day. Letting go of the past is essential to moving on to a new life, even if "the past" is five minutes ago.
As I'm making this distinction, I'm reminded of the movie Groundhog Day, which I'm sure most of you have seen since it's on TV every year in February, and not a few times on other days of the year. When Bill Murray starts out his cycle of Feb 2nd's, he suddenly realized there are no consequences. He lives each day like it's the last day of his life, stuffing himself, sleeping around, drinking heavily, jumping off cliffs, doing things no sane man would do, because he can. But as the days go on and on, starting over and over, he begins to realize that none of it was what he wanted. So he has to change his thinking. He starts to live each day fresh. He learns to play piano, he helps his neighbors, he does favors, he perfects the smallest acts of kindness, he begins to live each day like it's the first day of a bright and brilliant future. It's kind of a new look at that movie for me, and I like it.
Anyway, I'm realizing now that what I'm talking about is basically the cliche, today is the first day of the rest of your life, and I'm writing this to shy away from cliches, and that really pisses me off. Not really, but I think I have a valid point, because I'm tired of people saying to live today like it's your last. Because it's not your last, and you shouldn't live it like it's your last. But it is your first, in a very real sense, because you are not who you were yesterday - you've changed, you've grown, or maybe you've shrunk, you've learned, or maybe you've forgotten, you've eaten and pooped, your cells have died, and you've made new ones, you've had new experiences, even if they were similar to most of your other experiences, you're a different person, and today is a brand new day for you, so it is definitely a beginning. And if you think, I don't have to live today by yesterday's rules, I don't have to be today what I hated being yesterday, and I can plant a new seed in me that will grow tomorrow, then you've really started something. And I think we're here to start something, and if we end anything, I think it's mainly so that we can start something else. And that's a really positive way of looking at the world, which will only do us some good.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Juno
First of all, I wish to apologize to all my adoring fans for neglecting to post any blogs in the recent past. I know there are millions of you out there, just rearing to catch a new glimpse inside the brain of one Jacob Ulasich - or at least one or two. Frankly, I just haven't felt like I've had much to write about, and there's little worse in blogging life than going to post and feeling like you don't have anything.
So, Cassie and I watched Juno last night. I had heard it was really good, of course, but some people I knew said it was just okay. Personally, I think it's far better than okay. I loved it. It's awkward moments made me laugh out loud, it was filled with good characters, good acting, simple (probably realistic) interaction. It was just all-around really cool. But what I really liked were its really poignant moments where the story wrestled with the tough questions of love and of life and encouraged not only viewers to do so as well, but young people, who might relate with the fringe attitude of the main character, Juno, who relates "I don't know who I am anymore." It's not just about discovering identity, the cliche theme for troubled youth. It's about discovering what you're made of, what you really care about, what kind of choices you're going to make, what life means to you. Questions that go deeper than an eneagram test. That made it poignant. That made it gritty. That made it something to wrestle with, something to enter into.
I also liked how this film depicted the naivite of youth, without degrading or patronizing young people. It showed how young people were capable of making responsible decisions, but it also portrayed how adults realistically just tend to know a lot more about relationships, marriages, social do's and don'ts, and it's something you can only learn through experiencing the world. It struck me as a very good balance.
Lastly, the ultimate question of the film, can two people keep on loving each other indefinitely? On the surface, not the most groundbreaking question we've ever faced, but the film's response to the question? Basically, we hope so, and we'll sure try. And I really like that. Another balanced response, positive, without dismissing the realities of multiple failures in our culture. Hopeful, without pretence.
In the end, for me the film was about shedding the bullshit. Looking past the mood-swings, the naive idiocy, the strangling difficulties of relationships, and deciding once and for all, what do I really want to live for, and what do I really want to live with? All of that, encased in a charming, rootsy, kind of film, with an odd quirkiness that is totally my style and a fine-honed sense of humor that I found incredibly entertaining. It was great.
So, Cassie and I watched Juno last night. I had heard it was really good, of course, but some people I knew said it was just okay. Personally, I think it's far better than okay. I loved it. It's awkward moments made me laugh out loud, it was filled with good characters, good acting, simple (probably realistic) interaction. It was just all-around really cool. But what I really liked were its really poignant moments where the story wrestled with the tough questions of love and of life and encouraged not only viewers to do so as well, but young people, who might relate with the fringe attitude of the main character, Juno, who relates "I don't know who I am anymore." It's not just about discovering identity, the cliche theme for troubled youth. It's about discovering what you're made of, what you really care about, what kind of choices you're going to make, what life means to you. Questions that go deeper than an eneagram test. That made it poignant. That made it gritty. That made it something to wrestle with, something to enter into.
I also liked how this film depicted the naivite of youth, without degrading or patronizing young people. It showed how young people were capable of making responsible decisions, but it also portrayed how adults realistically just tend to know a lot more about relationships, marriages, social do's and don'ts, and it's something you can only learn through experiencing the world. It struck me as a very good balance.
Lastly, the ultimate question of the film, can two people keep on loving each other indefinitely? On the surface, not the most groundbreaking question we've ever faced, but the film's response to the question? Basically, we hope so, and we'll sure try. And I really like that. Another balanced response, positive, without dismissing the realities of multiple failures in our culture. Hopeful, without pretence.
In the end, for me the film was about shedding the bullshit. Looking past the mood-swings, the naive idiocy, the strangling difficulties of relationships, and deciding once and for all, what do I really want to live for, and what do I really want to live with? All of that, encased in a charming, rootsy, kind of film, with an odd quirkiness that is totally my style and a fine-honed sense of humor that I found incredibly entertaining. It was great.
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