Some advice for you, Kit.
With love,
Kit
1. You will always be in a transitional period. You're never gonna "get there", so enjoy the ride.
2. Children aren't articulate, but they know what's right, so listen to them more.
3. Talk to yourself more; you try to hide it like you're sane, but c'mon. The best conversations are the ones with the person who knows you best.
4. Grammar was made to relay ideas better. If you get what they're saying, grammar has no real role then.
5. DANCE, you fool.
6. Talk more with less thought; you'll find out the kind of person you are quicker. Then go from there.
7. Nothing you have is truly yours except your ideas. Even those, you should share.
8. I know you should "go with the flow", but flow into work more often.
9. You are only as good as your actions.
10. Learn parkour. It's, like, the fastest way to feel like a kid again.
11. Give praise where praise is due; you're not gonna get better just because you withheld a compliment regarding something you wish you could've done, too.
12. Practice more. Fear of failure IS failing.
13. Love more. How could you live with yourself otherwise?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Desert of Sound
I've always claimed to write music, but it's never felt like this.
Voice and guitar by the talented Danni Chung and video shot by my very own Allison Rhee
Voice and guitar by the talented Danni Chung and video shot by my very own Allison Rhee
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Take writing, for example
I have to reside in that place somewhere between carelessness and meticulousness.
If I am too careless, then my writing will have no direction; if I am too meticulous, then my writing will be too faltering.
Neither can I vacillate from one to the other--I will own no real trail of thought if I keep changing my state of mind.
No--I need to find comfort in a place between the two, a place where I exemplify boldness with a characteristic of wariness. I must write like I mean to write, but I must also exhibit care.
And not only my writing, but my life must also be led in this manner. I must be in a state of urgency so that I can fully engage all of my faculties, but I must also heed the words of God. I must live because God gave me this life, but I must also be wary of how I live for that very reason.
If I am too careless, then my writing will have no direction; if I am too meticulous, then my writing will be too faltering.
Neither can I vacillate from one to the other--I will own no real trail of thought if I keep changing my state of mind.
No--I need to find comfort in a place between the two, a place where I exemplify boldness with a characteristic of wariness. I must write like I mean to write, but I must also exhibit care.
And not only my writing, but my life must also be led in this manner. I must be in a state of urgency so that I can fully engage all of my faculties, but I must also heed the words of God. I must live because God gave me this life, but I must also be wary of how I live for that very reason.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Some scribbles in my pocket notebook
Happiness is not leisure. It is not retirement or luxury, it is not the easy attainment of pleasure.
Happiness is the transpiration of growth. It is not merely doing something enjoyable--it is becoming better at it. And the actual realization of aspirations is only momentary in its pleasure because it is only an indication of growth, not its finality.
Too often we attain an object and wonder at the inconsistency between it and our expectations. It is because our souls flourish when we ourselves flourish--attainment without continuance is nothing but a halt to what was food to our souls.
Happiness is the transpiration of growth. It is not merely doing something enjoyable--it is becoming better at it. And the actual realization of aspirations is only momentary in its pleasure because it is only an indication of growth, not its finality.
Too often we attain an object and wonder at the inconsistency between it and our expectations. It is because our souls flourish when we ourselves flourish--attainment without continuance is nothing but a halt to what was food to our souls.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
More Love, More Power
It's an amazing feeling when things that don't go your way all come together in the end to harmoniously reveal that it was all in due time to make things go His way.
Collaborating with Danni Chung was such a blessed experience. I know Danni from years ago when we attended the same church. She and I attended the same college as well, and now we are coincidentally in the same city in South Korea. We took this opportunity to collaborate a song together.. but the events leading up to it.. well, it never seems as divine if it isn't personally felt, but let's just say that everything seemed to happen exactly the way they should as willed by God.
Allison Rhee filmed everything, and Danni edited the video. Enjoy!
Collaborating with Danni Chung was such a blessed experience. I know Danni from years ago when we attended the same church. She and I attended the same college as well, and now we are coincidentally in the same city in South Korea. We took this opportunity to collaborate a song together.. but the events leading up to it.. well, it never seems as divine if it isn't personally felt, but let's just say that everything seemed to happen exactly the way they should as willed by God.
Allison Rhee filmed everything, and Danni edited the video. Enjoy!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Numb
All things shine on the sun; how can they not when they radiate so? They're so vibrant with color, they're shaking in my very sight, and they send their lights out. All things are graphic-- any blur is a man-made thing. The dew on the window is no cause for blurring-- the droplets themselves are so vivid. Displacement of attention is a man-made thing.
And why do we have loss of detail? It's all a numbing-- we numb the pain, we numb the senses because only then can we ever become deluded enough to think we can do it ourselves. But we cannot... we're weak beings who have the knowledge enough to make ourselves ignorant to our weaknesses. We're too knowledgeable for our own good on how to cut out what we consider excess, when really it is vital, even inherent.
Because in our weaknesses, we cry out to God...
Otherwise, we hesitate and stumble, become confused and fumble, and we find ways to numb ourselves again. We let these moments pass with dissatisfied taste, but we convince ourselves that it's "just the way it is." There's nothing else to do, then, but to harden ourselves to it, and after a lifetime of this, we build walls into a corner. But this corner seems safe; this corner seems good, because it's a space we can control. But we forget about God; how can you be satisfied knowing you're in a delusion, and you have to deny true things to be happy? How can that possibly make you happy?
We numb ourselves so well... it's the one thing we are all good at. We trim out the truth, we're a race of convenience, and we justify it because we work hard to attain convenience. We're so numb.
And why do we have loss of detail? It's all a numbing-- we numb the pain, we numb the senses because only then can we ever become deluded enough to think we can do it ourselves. But we cannot... we're weak beings who have the knowledge enough to make ourselves ignorant to our weaknesses. We're too knowledgeable for our own good on how to cut out what we consider excess, when really it is vital, even inherent.
Because in our weaknesses, we cry out to God...
Otherwise, we hesitate and stumble, become confused and fumble, and we find ways to numb ourselves again. We let these moments pass with dissatisfied taste, but we convince ourselves that it's "just the way it is." There's nothing else to do, then, but to harden ourselves to it, and after a lifetime of this, we build walls into a corner. But this corner seems safe; this corner seems good, because it's a space we can control. But we forget about God; how can you be satisfied knowing you're in a delusion, and you have to deny true things to be happy? How can that possibly make you happy?
We numb ourselves so well... it's the one thing we are all good at. We trim out the truth, we're a race of convenience, and we justify it because we work hard to attain convenience. We're so numb.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Fire
There is an awakening in my heart akin to that of a rekindled flame. It roars with passion at some times, and at others, I protect it from the wind with cupped hands-- but it burns, nonetheless.
I felt the spark of it when I stepped into Jubilee Church. It was like gathering the fuel and recognizing it as good flammable material. And there were sparks that landed dangerously close, but none that embarked on a glowing trail to the center of my heart.
Here, I must take the time to recognize God's influence on my circumstances and thank Him for what He did for me. It's one thing to know it and such a difference matter to apply it. I had planned a trip with Allison which had to be cancelled, and here, I must admit that I am prone to do the things that would make Allison happy. Well, although I associate her presence in my life with God's blessings, I hesitantly decided to attend my church's men's retreat. I am a man of words, and so, what would I be if I wasn't a man of my word? If I recognized that the church had all the right materials to set things ablaze, then how could I live with myself if I ignored the obvious act of Fate when God shattered my plans? And so, at the risk of hurting Allison, whom God Himself had put in my life anyway, I committed to going to this retreat.
And lo and behold, what happened? Things happened exactly as they should if only I let them-- or rather, let God. This is what I had been missing. All those allusions to melancholy and ennui-- lack of inspiration and color in my life-- they were all instantly cured, and not only cured, but replaced by new passions I had never even known to want. It's like I wanted fire in all its orange splendor, and, instead, I got a beautiful blue flame, even hotter than what I had originally intended to want.
But it wasn't all an effortless receiving of the Spirit, there were moments even after the moment. It didn't end with just the decision to commit; there was the moment that I decided to raise my hands for praise, the moment I decided to speak (in fact, this moment occurred again and again), the moment I decided to be honest with myself about my past-- there were moments after moments. And every moment added fuel to the fire, and it grew bigger and brighter.
And then-- I jumped into the flames themselves for, you see, there were moments after the retreat. I had to enter the fire and be refined by the heat as it burned away the earthly things that had taken hold of me with fierce determination. But I see them as they close into a crinkled black mass of what I recognize to be repentance, and I could see the Purity that every soul is meant to be underneath the ugliness as it fell away.
And if this soul is me, if I am it, then I have to take this moment to state that I could not recognize it. There was a lingering fragrance resembling nostalgia, like something deep in my past that transcends even my memories, but other than that, I must admit that I was beholding something novel that I can only now proclaim is something truer to myself that I had ever uttered myself to be.
I am, once again, reborn.
I felt the spark of it when I stepped into Jubilee Church. It was like gathering the fuel and recognizing it as good flammable material. And there were sparks that landed dangerously close, but none that embarked on a glowing trail to the center of my heart.
Here, I must take the time to recognize God's influence on my circumstances and thank Him for what He did for me. It's one thing to know it and such a difference matter to apply it. I had planned a trip with Allison which had to be cancelled, and here, I must admit that I am prone to do the things that would make Allison happy. Well, although I associate her presence in my life with God's blessings, I hesitantly decided to attend my church's men's retreat. I am a man of words, and so, what would I be if I wasn't a man of my word? If I recognized that the church had all the right materials to set things ablaze, then how could I live with myself if I ignored the obvious act of Fate when God shattered my plans? And so, at the risk of hurting Allison, whom God Himself had put in my life anyway, I committed to going to this retreat.
And lo and behold, what happened? Things happened exactly as they should if only I let them-- or rather, let God. This is what I had been missing. All those allusions to melancholy and ennui-- lack of inspiration and color in my life-- they were all instantly cured, and not only cured, but replaced by new passions I had never even known to want. It's like I wanted fire in all its orange splendor, and, instead, I got a beautiful blue flame, even hotter than what I had originally intended to want.
But it wasn't all an effortless receiving of the Spirit, there were moments even after the moment. It didn't end with just the decision to commit; there was the moment that I decided to raise my hands for praise, the moment I decided to speak (in fact, this moment occurred again and again), the moment I decided to be honest with myself about my past-- there were moments after moments. And every moment added fuel to the fire, and it grew bigger and brighter.
And then-- I jumped into the flames themselves for, you see, there were moments after the retreat. I had to enter the fire and be refined by the heat as it burned away the earthly things that had taken hold of me with fierce determination. But I see them as they close into a crinkled black mass of what I recognize to be repentance, and I could see the Purity that every soul is meant to be underneath the ugliness as it fell away.
And if this soul is me, if I am it, then I have to take this moment to state that I could not recognize it. There was a lingering fragrance resembling nostalgia, like something deep in my past that transcends even my memories, but other than that, I must admit that I was beholding something novel that I can only now proclaim is something truer to myself that I had ever uttered myself to be.
I am, once again, reborn.
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