Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Talkin' bout a resolution

This year I made three New Years Resolutions, and I thought I'd use this post to explain what they were, and how they turned out.

Resolutions:

1.Get a pet kitten!

3.Learn a new language (French)

3.Lose weight/exercise more

Thankfully, I am quite happy to report that I have accomplished (or continue to be accomplishing) all of these goals this year, and now I'd like to share some stats/pics/etc about each one.

1. This May, Claire and I went out and got a kitten.  I knew I wanted a young cat, so I waited until Spring when there were more to choose from.  He was born in mid-February, so by this point he's about 10 months old.  His name is Rupert, he's very high energy, and he looks like this:
This was taken when I'd had him about a month (so 4 mo's old)

2.  After work, about three days a week, I started teaching myself French.  I chose French for a few reasons, but mainly because it is widely spoken, uses a similar alphabet to English, and I know quite a few people who speak French so I could get extra help when I needed it.  Also, I am already decent at German, so I thought I'd get a new language under my belt (though I definitely would like to continue pursuing German to get completely fluent at some point).  Anyway, J'ai étudié le français après le travail, trois ou quatre fois par semaine.  I have a lot to learn, but I feel like I've made good progress, as I've completed Rosetta Stone levels 1 and 2, and I'm in the middle of level 3.  Each level is broken in to 4 units, and each unit is broken into about 4 sections, and each section has about 10 subsections, so there's a lot to work through.  However, I plan to keep this up in 2012 so I plan to be well versed in it by this time next year.
My favorite sentence that I've seen in Rosetta Stone so far was: Le jeune gens jouer à un jeu.  Nice alliteration there.

3. Weight loss/exercise!  Let me say one thing first:  Working in an office is not good for your health.  When I lived at KU, I walked to class every day and occasionally worked out, so I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to eat it.  Those hills at KU are no joke, and walking across campus every day was great exercise.  However, after graduating and getting a job last may, I realized that sitting practically all day long and eating/drinking whatever I wanted was not working for me anymore.  So, after 6 months of that, I decided to start keeping track of my weight and managing my calorie intake.

I know that it's quite cliché to say you are going to lose weight for New Years, and never do it.  I decided not to fall into that trap, so I took some proactive steps to keep myself on target.

The first step was signing up for a Lose It! account.  It's a free website that lets you log what you eat each day, and manage your calorie intake.  This was important to me.  I'm not the "diet" type of guy, so I decided that I would take minimal steps to change my diet, and instead would focus on consuming fewer calories rather than saying "NO MORE ______!."  So, I logged every day (except weekends--those are guilt free), and now have a comprehensive profile of where my nutrients come from, and how many calories I consumed each day for the entire year.  You do not want to know how many times I had chicken strips...oh my.  

However, by using that site, I was able to curb my munchies.  I practically never snack anymore, and I stopped keeping Dr. Pepper in the home (though maybe I'm fooling myself and just eat out more often now? Nah...).

I also kept up a light/moderate work out routine of hitting the gym for at least a few minutes about 3-4 times a week, which I also did a decent job of logging.  In the end, I met my calorie budgets and lost weight (see below).

Using withings, I set a daily calorie budget of no more than 1400 a day.
This macro view shows my month to month trends.


In addition to the website, I also purchased the Withings Wi-Fi Body Scale which measures weight, reports BMI, and has a rough estimate of your body fat percentage.  It was a little pricey, but is nice because it reports my weight to my Withings account which I could track online, on an android app, or through loseit.com's withing plug-in.

Love that trendline
If you're wondering why there's a huge jump from February to March, that's because it's when I replaced my old scale with the much more accurate Withings scale.  It just goes to show my old scale was saying I weighed much less than I actually did, so the top number on this graph should be ~168 pounds instead of 160.

Also, the reason the measurements go up and down is because I measured once in the morning before work, and once right before bed, and naturally, you weigh the least right when you wake up.

You can see that I set a weight goal of 140 pounds, and I have recently hit that and play to stay around that mark :)



So, dear reader, I'm happy to say I accomplished all of my resolutions.  Next year I plan to keep these up, but I probably won't be getting another pet for a good while.

Hope your resolutions (should you choose to make them) come to fruition!


Monday, December 5, 2011

Worth a thousand words (but I'll only type ~50 here)

Looking back at photos of myself, I can safely say there are very few recorded moments of sadness compared to happiness.  While one might think that's because it's impolite to take pictures of crying people, or that unhappy people will refuse to stand still for a photo, in my case it's because life makes me happy.  Even when it doesn't.


Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Letters To Santa (and you!)

It's almost December, and with it comes the season of children writing letters to Santa with all of their Christmas-present-hopes inside.  Or do they write letters these days?  Perhaps it's email...I mean texting...tweeting?  In any case, as I think about my letters to Santa in the past, I loved that I often got a letter back from the post office saying they had sent the letter to the North Pole, and while I waited for Christmas to come, here were some free holiday window clings to play with (cheap, but effective.  I loved putting the little window clings of Rudolph and snowmen on the freezing window glass).

However, as Christmas comes and goes throughout the years, I was thinking that I write very few letters by hand these days (though Grandma always gets a hand written thank you card, of course!) and how tragic it will be if we lose this medium.

Those that know me understand that I am a big proponent of technology, as the shift to the "digital age" has brought us so many wonderful (yes, you may replace wonderful with scary if you so choose) ways to keep in touch with each other over distances that would have taken letters days or weeks to reach.  For instance, I can play guitar with crystal clear audio and decent video to a friend in England for free, or  text a picture of my cat over wifi despite being in the basement of a house with no cell reception.  How neat is that?  With IM, you can chat in real time with a coworker in Taiwan while you sit in your pjs at home, or use facebook to organize an event with 500 people while only clicking the "send" button once (much cheaper than stamps).

However, despite all of the niceties that come along with technology, the art (yes, I said art) of composing a hand written letter should not be forgotten.  Letter writing contains so many benefits that it is crazy to think of a time when people will no longer convey messages through this time tested medium.  For instance, with letter writing more so than email or IM, you really have the ability to compose your thoughts.  If you write with a pen, there is no backspace or undo button, and space can be limited, so you get to really consider your words.  With the time it takes to deliver a letter, you also get to think about what is most important to write, to make sure you really convey what you had hoped for.  Also, letters are so much more personal.  They are written by hand, so you see your wonderful calligraphy (or chicken scratch, as it may be) looking back at you.  You know that you wrote this, not some anonymous being from the internet (read:chatroulette).  When you address the letter, you aren't writing to moniker@some_handle.domain, but to an actual person in a physical place who will physically be there when they read your message.  Didn't you imagine Santa reading your letter in front of his fire at the North Pole?  You can't get much more personal than that.

Sometimes I miss this, and for this reason I would like to invite you to ask for a letter if you would like me to write you one.  All you have to do is request one (you may do so via email if you don't want to leave it in the comments).  I don't mind whether or not I know you well, as this is an invitation to all.  I also can't promise I will have anything poignant to say, but will write you a letter all the same, and maybe we'll know each other better through the process.

If you would like one, feel free to hit up the comments, send me a private message (if you got here via facebook), or email me at Giffdev (at) gmail (dot com).

Thursday, November 24, 2011

A very guitar Thanksgiving

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, everyone!  While I am spending time with family and friends this weekend, and don't have time to make a substantial post, I thought I'd leave you with three songs in the style of guitar that I only wish I could emulate.










Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Enchanting

Here is a short poem that might grow into something bigger than just a couple thoughts I wrote down while waiting on code to compile.  It's inspired by Enchanting Ghost by Sufjan Stevens, but is not meant to be a direct application of the tune to these words.

when did you last think of me
am i still implanted in your memory
or am I now a waking absentee
only to creep across unwanted dreamery

oh no, I never hoped to be your past
no, I never intended to be the man
that you once knew
oh no, I never hoped to be your past
but oh, do I linger, last, 
and live in you

Monday, November 21, 2011

Crazy for comedy, but not that crazy

Sometimes the best stories are true (embarrassing) stories.  When I was in third grade, we got our first quarter report cards back.  Mine had the usual grades; S or S+ down the board.  You weren't allowed to get A-B-C grades until you were a grown up (read: 5th grader and higher), so S meant Satisfactory, because why not?

However, to the right of our grade cards were spaces where each quarter, the teacher could write a few comments in the margin.  Mine happened to say that while I was a good student, I also acted quite often as the class clown.

When the report card came in the mail, I opened it up, read the grades and comments, and merrily waited for my parents to come home so I could show off.  "Class Clown!" I thought.  That must mean I'm funny, and people must like my jokes and antics since even the teacher thinks out of everyone in the class, I'm the funniest.  Why wouldn't I be thrilled?

Well, when Mom and Dad came home, they were less enthused, and my glee turned to dismay as they explained that this did not mean that everyone found me funny, but that I instead goofed off and needed to mind myself and be a better student (we all know some of those S's should have been S+, yeah?).

In any case, I've always enjoyed making people laugh (and the ensuing awkwardness if a joke just doesn't land as you intended).  I really enjoy listening to stand up, and there was a fleeting time when I thought this might be a great career path (though I didn't entertain that notion for too long, since I realized it isn't all it's cracked up to be).  Plus, if you can't already tell, my comedy heavily relies on an audience's eager desire for puns.

However, there is one type of comedian in this world I will never aspire to be, as it is the lowest form of comedy....besides Jeff Dunham.  Of course, I'm talking about the Elevator Comedian.

This happens all the time at work.  You get in the elevator with a large group, and that one guy or gal decides they have the perfect elevator jokes that nobody's heard before.  Let's just pretend I'm putting out a cd of Elevator Comedy's greatest hits, with such classics as:

1. [elevator has almost every floor pressed except 6] 6th floor anyone? Going once, going twice??
2.[someone in back of elevator tries to get off and you need to move around them] Care to dance?
3.[all buttons pressed] BINGO! and/or YAHTZEE!
4.[elevator is packed] Wow, are we clowns in a clown car?  Where's the circus?

Yes folks, there are much more, and I have heard all of these in my life.  Let's just all make a pledge together to never be that man or woman making the lamest jokes ever to be funniest-elevator-goer.

-Devin

Friday, November 18, 2011

Before

This is going to be a short update, to show off the latest song that I wrote (and the hurried first draft of a recording).  It's called "Before", and I tried writing it in Starbucks one night but the blaring Christmas music made writing difficult, so I had to take it home and revise.

Also, I rarely go to Starbucks, and the last two times I went


  • An employee made fun of me for using Discover Card, because he informed me that it is "clearly a dying brand."  I always take my financial advise from Starbucks employees.
  • When I ordered a small hot chocolate, an employee said "oh big risk taker, huh" in a very facetious tone
So, Starbucks is pretty much awful.

So, here's the song, and the recording is here

Before
November 16, 2011

The path we walked was covered in leaves
The autumn wind coaxed the clothes from the trees
The air I breathed felt crisp in my chest
Couldn't give it a name, I hadn't felt like this
Before

The pea coat’s collar pulled up to your cheek
Did little to hide months of sorrow from me
Your eyes were dark water, your thoughts withdrew
You were in too deep, and I couldn’t join you
Now, or before

The fall is coming to an end
She's calling on the wind
for you

As we crossed the park, I felt my heart break
For that unspoken empathy was too great
I kissed your forehead, unsure if that was allowed
Blessed for the glimpse of a smile bestowed
months before

The fall is coming to an end
She's calling on the wind
for you

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

What's my style?

When you stop and think about it, it's easy to see why so many philosophers have moments of existential crisis and go insane (if only for a little while).  Life is so grand in scale, and we have such a short time here, that thinking about what has meaning and is valuable to you can be daunting and panic inducing (if you're a bit unhinged to begin with).  While my ambitions of personal thought, and the topic of this blog post, aren't at the macro level of life in general, I have recently been pondering what my poetic/musical style is, or should be, and have decided that deciding is decidedly difficult.

For instance, do I want my poems and songs to be well composed, using all the tools in the language toolbox to create sweeping mental pictures in those who read them in a perfect, transcendental manner?  Or should I go for hooks, with catchy tunes and choruses that may not say much, but just feel good with a nice rhythm?  Or perhaps go the route of John Darnielle (lead singer of The Mountain Goats) and pour my personal life and feelings (which I pretty much wear on my sleeve anyway) onto the page for everyone to see, no matter how vulnerable that is?  Or maybe I just want to find someone else to sing with, for some great harmonies like the Avett Brothers or Dispatch.  Writing music alone can be so limiting.  Alternatively, I could work on the music first, and try to disconnect the words from the interesting guitar lines, like DMB seems to do so well (seriously, try listening to Satellite/The Stone/Rhyme & Reason/You Never Know for examples of how the hands and vocal chords can by so out of sync and still sound great).  Or maybe it's all about the raw, truth of the lyrics that Bob Dylan pulls off so well.

In any case, I have not yet decided, and everything I write seems to fall into random categories without a cohesive vision.  I don't yet know if that's due to an immaturity of the writing, or whether my eclectic tastes just make it difficult to shoehorn myself into a category.  In any case, at least I still find value in the act of writing.





Note: If you're interested in diving deeper into a discussion of values and worth, I highly recommend reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Monday, November 14, 2011

En-chant-ing songs, Covered in Flint, and Take A Good Look

The past few days I've turned off the radio in my car to re-listen to some of the wonderful music that I own, but perhaps haven't heard or thought about in a long time.  I've noticed that lately, I've gotten in a groove of loving music with a repeated chorus or chant throughout the song, as I can enjoy the music taking me on a journey inside myself.  Sometimes, it spurs thoughts for poetry or prose of my own, but often it just leads to a calming of the spirit, or an existential calm as I reflect on the songwriter's intention.  However, yesterday as I listened to the repeated refrains of "takes me" in Wordsworth's Ridge, I was compelled to do more research and find out where Sufjan was taking me.  It turns out, the somewhat nebulous song feels this way because it picks, chooses, and paraphrases lines from Wordsworth's The Prelude: Book I around line 357.  I have yet to read the entire prelude, but it is very much rooted in Romanticism and I have added it to my must-read list.

Some other songs that have this turning over/chant-like feel to them (think wagon wheels moving across the prairie) that I've enjoyed lately are the banjo line particularly in Sufjan Steven's All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands (bonus points if you know what the title references) and Walking Far From Home by Iron & Wine.  There are many others I could point out, but I have other topics!

As part of my goal of getting back to creativity, I spent a couple hours last night recording a version of another Sufjan Stevens song: Flint (For the Unemployed and Underpaid).  I felt that it would be discourteous to get out the trumpet and play in my apartment (neighbors being both above and below), so I recorded my version on multiple guitar tracks, with guitar playing the piano and trumpet lines as well.  The recording is currently located
Here

I have also written a new song for the first time in ages, which was apparent to me at the time of writing it, as I spent much longer on it than I normally spend.  Just a matter of getting the rust out and getting back to writing, and I'm sure if I keep it up future compositions will come more naturally.  The idea came to me while I was driving between Kansas City and Lawrence, as some Canadian geese were migrating south for the winter.  The concept was to set the scene of two "pioneer era" children burying their father in winter as the geese migrated south, and the rest of the poem unfolded and fell onto the page like a bow of ribbon being untied on a Christmas gift.  I also recorded a rough draft of the song, which will be linked to after the final line of the poem:


Take A Good Look
November 13, 2011

Katie O'Malley was a poor farmer's daughter
and Peter O'Malley, a poor farmer's son
Both lived with their father near Fort Leavenworth
Where they'd settled the fall of 1831
Their mother had died two years prior
giving birth to child number three
The young one also did not make it
both buried outside by the old white oak tree

So put on your dark mourning gown
And bring out the flowers, the shovel, the Good Book
'Cause now comes the lowering down
And it may be you next year, so take a good look

November had found Kansas quickly
The snow coated the ground, cleared the canvas anew
The geese brought the news of our neighbor
As the temperature sagged and the winter winds blew
Father was tending the stables
As he had hundreds of times, hundreds before
Bent over, the hoof struck his temple
As he fell to the floor, father would tend no more

So put on your dark mourning veil
And bring out the flowers, the shovel, the Good Book
'Cause we're hammering in the final nail
And it may be you next year, so take a good look

Katie O'Malley spoke the short eulogy
And Peter shoveled six feet out of the ground
They buried their father by the old white oak tree
In the winter of Kansas where death's the only sound

So put on your dark mourning gown
And bring out the flowers, the shovel, the Good Book
'Cause now comes the lowering down
And it may be you next year, so take a good look
And it may be you next year, so take a good look
So take a good look


Here is a link to the song draft

Friday, November 11, 2011

Is it still creative if you get paid?

I often wish I were more artistic in nature.  At least, I wish I were more able to aptly express myself visually.  I have great difficulty taking something in my head and drawing it out on paper, and find myself envious of the doodles and throwaway sketches many of my friends produce while bored in lecture halls.  Even my handwriting leaves much to be desired.  While quite passable, it is nowhere near the pleasing aesthetic my father and sister are able to produce (the two of them being quite good at calligraphy).

To cope, I've tried to find other outlets for my creativity.  It's likely why I gravitate toward language, music, songwriting (a combination of the previous two), and software rather than art and crafting.  On the other hand, it may be that I gravitate toward these subjects because I perceive logic, structure, and correctness more easily than abstract concepts.  While this applies most directly to my affinity for engineering, it also can be argued that music and language have a defined structure or grammar, as the notes in a chord are either right or wrong, and languages follow syntax trees (with many exceptions, of course).  Even poetry can have as loose or rigid of a structure as one would like, and the flexibility provides opportunities for myriad avenues of exploration.

However, most of my day to day "creative expression" is controlled by my full-time job.  To pay the bills, I (as I'm sure most of you as well) work at least forty hours a week, leaving little free time (with a rested mind) for creativity outside of work.  However, one of the more attractive aspects of being a software engineer in consumer electronics is that I have a fair amount of control and input as to the look and feel of the end product, as well as the code architecture (at least, for parts of the software that I design).  Of course, the amount of creativity I am allowed to apply to a project will be determined by the needs of the company (and hopefully by the needs of our customers).  There are really two distinct facets to creative expression in a consumer electronics software engineering role.

The first is external, which includes anything the user sees, experiences, or interacts with in the software.  This can be broken down further  into many subcategories.  For instance, there is the language used when presenting information to the user, which must be explicit, clear, and concise as it will be translated into many other languages for international markets and a)translations cost money and b)ambiguous, overly wordy sentences will confuse users.  Another external aspect is the look.  This is huge topic, which encompasses the font sets, sizes, and colors used, graphics styles, color schemes, and so on.  Additionally, there is the feel of the unit.  This encompasses menu flow, feature placement, how information is presented to the user, and all of the other minute aspects that give a product a comprehensive feel to enforce the idea of a brand identity.

That being said, working on large scale projects for a large company means there will be quite a bit of collaboration.  With so many cooks in the kitchen, I often find that I do not have as much freedom as originally thought when beginning a new feature.  For instance, user experience surveys may help dictate how a feature must be designed, and a graphics team might want my images to be in line with a cohesive vision of the entire project (maintaining the look and feel).  All of these take away from my ability to go from soup to nuts on an entire feature and have it be fully my own.  This is not because the company is evil and trying to sap all creative expression out of my job, but rather because we want the product to have a cohesive feel and we want the interface to be intuitive, so certain bodies have influence over the engineers to enforce these ideals (whether or not the goals are achieved is a debate for another time).

 Even when a feature design flow or the images to be used is decided upon by someone else, if I am tasked with implementing the feature then I can architect the code itself to my liking.  This is the second facet, or internal creative expression.  Just as there are ways to write a "good" paper and a "bad" paper, there are absolutely ways to write "good" code and "bad" code.  Granted, the end user does not care how a feature works; only that it works "well."  Of course, the term well has many qualifiers such as robustness, speed, reliability which can be determined (or at least influenced) by how the software is written internally.  While there may be limitless ways to end up with code that will "do something" you want it to, the fun and creativity comes in with making sure the code has high quality.

One aspect of quality could be that the code is readable.  Again, this does not matter for the end user, but for those who have to maintain and add on to it, this is very important.  It should also be robust.  By this I mean it will not crash when something "bad" happens (of course, bad can mean a hundred different things, from erroneous user input to loss of internet connectivity, etc etc depending on the application).  Speed is always important, especially these days as consumer technology races to compete in a truly global market.  There is a definite satisfaction in engineering when something that used to take 5 seconds is reduced to 0.5 seconds.

All of these areas provide opportunities for creative expression, whether it is an internal incremental improvement or an entirely new feature that the public will see and experience.  It may not always feel as satisfying as something you created solely on your own, but even within a large company one can find opportunities to express themselves and leave their mark.

I would have written this all in a nice letter, but my handwriting is terrible.

Monday, November 7, 2011

I've been known to deviate

While this is not meant to be the main topic of this post, I have to share something with you, dear readers, about one of my life goals:  I would like to experience (without any harm coming to me) some natural disasters. This seems like a goal that, while not in my control, I could accomplish without too much work.  For instance, I've lived in the heart of Tornado Alley my entire life but have yet to see one in person.
This weekend, Oklahoma (one state to the south of where I live) experienced a 5.6 magnitude earthquake.  To be sure, the rumbles and grumbles were felt in my city as well, but I did not feel them because I was in a well built area of downtown swing dancing (or at least enjoying the music while having a few drinks) and did not feel a thing.

Oh well, there's still hope for a Kansas hurricane.

Now, the main reason for posting this is to say that long before I considered creating a blog, I have been posting some of my creative writing on my Deviant Art account, and wanted to share a poem I wrote in college that was the inspiration for the title of this blog.  It was written in about 20 minutes with the specific intention that I would provide minimal edits or revisions, and was intended to roll forward at a quick pace with a stream of consciousness feel to it.  I hope you enjoy it.

Something Latent
Stream of Consciousness 
First draft April 13, 2008
Revised September 8, 2008

Sour days and sleepless nights
A walking dreaming soundless sight
A pale beneath a harvest moon
A song that holds a hollow tune
Bring me beauty, bring me rest
Bring the crows back home to nest
Slide the skating, skirting tongue
Across the breath of those to come
Believe tonight comes but for you
Believe, beneath the harvest moon
And when you see me ‘neath your door
Where I have stood, as times before
Lend a thought and drop a tear
And whispered lips belay my fears
Two beds for one, two hearts but none
That beat together, sound apart;
A rhythm stops before it starts
And feel your mind grow numbly now
Feelings stumble, falling down
But then a hope over the line
Not practical, but soft, divine
You’ll brush away and ask no more
Of memory citing months before
Of movement ‘neath such waves of sheets;
We moved together, our tides so breached!
Alas, your figure won’t yet shine
I cannot take your hand in mine
Your frame is but a shadowed form
A silhouette, for you I’ll mourn
But move along with tasks familiar
I’ll place the gold beneath the silver
I’ll bask in sun, and sweat, and stir
And live! Oh live! And not defer
Nor shake, nor quiver, no not for me
And still your eyes, that solemn sea
Where I once swimmed, now find I drown
Whether from drink, or salt, or sound…
But raise my head, a smile bright,
And remember why it’s you I write!
The buried sun that calls me home
The rain that falls from wrongs atoned
We’re on the edge of our new lives
You drank it through my voice last night
You watched the wheel, you watched the light
You shrank beneath your covers cold
Shrinking restless, growing old
Put out the candle, pour out the wax
The fire’s gone but heat still clasps:
Something latent, still implied
Please be patient, be so kind
Spend a day to turn the time;
My myriad futures in your mind
I’ll hang your tokens up to dry
And once folded, tuck them away
Filed for another day
You may think of this tonight
Of harvest moon, of beauty bright
Through growing farms, and sleeping cows
Past rivers, pastures, fields unplowed
And when you find what we could not
I hope you take the time to drop
A word, a rhyme, a song, a note
And when you see you’re home alone
Remember that I would have come.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Text Based FUN

Well, while this is not something I wrote today (or even this year), I thought as an example of "creative writing" that doesn't fit the poetry/prose/music category, I'd post the full code of a text based adventure video game I wrote for a class in functional programming.  To play it, you just need to install a Haskell interpreter on your computer, which is free and not difficult, and found here:

http://www.haskell.org/ghc/download_ghc_64 (make sure to download the Windows one assuming you are not a Mac person)

If you're wondering, "WHAT IS A TEXT BASED ADVENTURE?" I will tell you.  Actually, I will show you, as it is the type of game featured in this cartoon called Thy Dungeonman.

Anyway, try out my game Here (right click > save it to your computer) , and leave a comment telling me how it went!

Once again, steps to playing.

1.Download and install the Haskell interpreter
2.Download the game to your computer
3.Run the game
4.Type "main" to begin!

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Blog Introduction and the Companion Soul

I'd first like to thank you for finding this blog.  My goal for this blog is to allow myself a space for creative expression, which may come in the form of poetry, essays, open source programs, songs, or unpolished musings both from my voice and personal experience, as well as fictionalized personas.  The goal in this is to speak honestly and from the heart, as all good writing should be honest.  However, do not expect this to be an autobiography of all my personal opinions.  Once again, I thank you for your time and considerations.
-Devin

The Companion Soul
The Companion Soul finds meaning in life not from duty, nor the completion of great deeds, nor from silent contemplation and subtle musings, nor acquisition of wealth or power.  The creation of great works of art or science or music or literature do not pull at the thoughts and heart of the Companion, for those are the desires of the scientist, the musician, or the author, and the Companion is none of these. The Companion Soul is guided by a passion to truly know and understand  those who inhabit this world, in the hope of being truly known and truly understood.  Friendship is noble, and trust and intimacy are ideals that are so rarely reached but so often longed for.

The Companion Soul draws energy from those who enter his life as leaves draw life from the sun.  The leaves do not drain the sun of its warmth--the warmth is freely given, and allows the flower to thrive and bloom and sustain its roots when the sun is not present and the air turns cold.  So does the Companion find warmth in the company of friends, and sustenance in conversation.  The people of the earth are as grains of sand on the beach--one cannot hope to touch them all or recognize the worth of each individually--but we are blessed with our own time, and in that time the Companion wants to learn from whom he can, and build a home of friendship wherever he may find himself.

The discovery of a new person that the Companion Soul feels drawn to is invigorating.  Imagine ancient sailors discovering a new land for the first time after weeks at sea, and the exhilaration that follows from the realization that there is more to this world that we knew.

Meeting someone new who lights the spark of curiosity and interest within the Companion Soul for the first time is fascinating.  One feels as if he has been living comfortably in his home for years, where the contents of all the drawers, cupboards, and shelves are well known.  Suddenly, this new person comes and shines a light upon a corner of the room where darkness had always pervaded.  Out of the darkness it is revealed that the house contains a locked door to another room, not known to have previously existed.   He desires to open this door, not because he knows what lies behind it, but precisely because he does not.  Conversation is the key, as it has been the key to opening and closing many doors in life throughout the ages.  Conversation with this new acquaintance opens the door, revealing the everyday objects contained therein, or perhaps something larger and much more beautiful that was waiting until these moments to be revealed.  The impact another person can have on our lives is limitless, and the Companion Soul feels he is a constant clay that lives continuously on the wheel, ready to be molded and improved.  He will leave his mark on others as they on him, and through friendship all of our lives are enriched.  Friends are the constant North Star that keep us from being lost in the darkness.

Truly knowing another person and allowing them to know you is the deepest intimacy one can achieve.  It is often spoken of but rarely accomplished, and the knowledge and implications of this fill the Companion Soul with sorrow and vexation.  To truly be known by another person is to stand naked before them with the markings of your hopes, fears, flaws, uncertainties, loves, and prayers carved into your nakedness, inked onto your chest in sweeping letters.  The intimacy of showing your whole self to another, and the trust required to do so, is so overwhelming that the Companion knows he may go his entire life and never find another soul, or God willing, souls, that this can be shared with.

There are large obstacles that prevent us from understanding another person, and more that prevent others from understanding us.  To be understood, one must truly have nothing to hide, and must not feel the reservations of shame.  This is extremely difficult, and can only be achieved by living a moral life devoid of vices too powerful to be shared with any outside of your own heart, or by living completely amorally so that shame and embarrassment hold no meaning.  While one hopefully strives to minimize vice and live well, it is the tendency to protect oneself with privacy that leads to this blockade of openness.  This prevents you from freeing yourself to be seen for who you are at your innermost self, and these self imposed chains are no less real than physical restraints.

While the Companion Soul hopes to be able to share himself with another (or anothers if life extremely generous), this intimacy will not be offered to everyone.  It is one thing to be generous, open, and honest with those whose lives enrich your own, and begin with small, strong foundation to eventually build a castle of love and friendship.  It is quite another to dwell within someone else so that your heart pumps the blood of life through their veins, and theirs to yours.  Most good, important people in the Companion's life will never be the exact match that elicits this desire for him to share himself fully, and for years the Companion Soul may be mostly contented to have many friends whom he cares for deeply, while still hoping the compatible person or persons will reveal themselves in time.

This level of intimacy gives true meaning to the Companion Soul, and when achieved brings greater contentment and joy to life than any other pursuits could achieve.