20 October 2008

Perfection is overrated

Okay, I know, I'm waxing philosophical. I think it must be a phase, and presently I shall return to comments on matters such as the flotilla of mini pirate ships on my dresser or the many reasons I dislike math. However, this is the helping of my thoughts that I release today into cyberspace.

Yesterday afternoon (Sunday) I played a large game of Lord of the Rings Monopoly with all but one of my family members. (The missing one has what one or two of his friends refer to as a 'jewfro', and memorizes phone numbers by remembering which hockey players' numbers they correspond to.) Afterward, I relented to pleading from my two smallest siblings and played an hour or two of Twilight Princess. I accomplished quite a lot, and I am halfway through the Temple of Time. About this point, shortly after dinner, I remembered that on Sunday afternoons, I normally get started on this week's quizzing material. "Okay, whatever," I thought. "The sections haven't been as long lately, so I probably don't have much to do. I'll just slip it in before we start on our normal rounds of Sunday night TV."

Five minutes later, I was staring gloomily at Luke 10 - a whopping FORTY-TWO verses that I hope to have memorized by Wednesday.

Here we pause. I didn't regret the three or so hours of Monopoly, nor the Twilight Princess. I skipped the first TV show, Heartland, and paced my bedroom repeating verses to myself, and then wandered upstairs to watch America's Funniest Home Videos and The Amazing Race. I could have watched House with my mom afterward, but by that time I was rather sleepy and had a couple more verses to memorize, so I didn't. (But really, as she pointed out, missing House is far preferable to missing, say, NCIS or Bones or The Office.)

I do have a point here. And the point is - I could have spent all afternoon catching up in music history, brushing up on my piano technique, getting a head start in quizzing, or sundry other 'productive' pursuits. Instead I played Monopoly and Zelda. I don't feel guilty, because yesterday I think I realized something more important.

I'll never be seventeen again. Heck, as of next August, I get to be an adult for the rest of my life. Do I really want to spend this year immersed in academic pursuits, and miss out on the more important things? Because yes, some things ARE more important. Like playing Lord of the Rings Monopoly and witnessing my mom refer to Valinor as Edoras. Like wildly waving a Wii controller while Grace and Will shout, "Kill him! YEAH!"

Okay, maybe I don't get 100% on every Chemistry test. Maybe I take mini-breaks between school subjects to read fan fiction about Elves and the CIA. Maybe I'll never go to Harvard, maybe I'll never be famous, maybe I'll never land a job that pays a million a year. Maybe, heaven forbid, I'll have kids instead of a bigger house or a newer car or an expensive vacation. But you know what? That's okay.

Because I'm happy. Exactly like this. There is a time to be 'productive', and there is a time to kill hairy spider-things with your Master Sword.

14 October 2008

From John Diefenbaker

"I am a Canadian,
free to speak without fear,
free to worship in my own way,
free to stand for what I think right,
free to oppose what I believe wrong,
or free to choose those
who shall govern my country.
This heritage of freedom
I pledge to uphold
for myself and all mankind."

From the Canadian Bill of Rights,
July 1, 1960.


Happy Election Day.

11 October 2008

The Beauty of Democracy

"I don't vote in this province."

"I think it's stupid to have another election. I'm not voting."

"Sorry, we don't really believe in voting."

I am more philosophical about this topic than my dad, who has to suppress a need to say "Oh yeah? Well move to China then, see how well they take to 'yeah, I don't believe in communism'." We love him anyway.

But back to the point.

This evening I was recalling, as I sat with a blanket and a cup of chocolate-cake-in-a-mug (if you would like this amazing recipe, do tell me) the topic of the youth Sunday School class I was able to attend last week, as there was no quizzing that day. We discussed, with a lively peppering of varying opinions, the blessing of democracy and our responsibilities that follow. This, combined with three hours of dropping campaign literature in mailboxes I did today, made me contemplative about the democratic system. Should we be as cynical about politicians as many are? Do our votes count? (Well, not my vote, per se.) Is voting the responsibility that comes with the gift of democracy? Is it wrong not to vote?

Personally, I have varying answers to any and all of these. However, the gist of the matter is this: Despite its shortcomings, the democratic system gives citizens under its jurisdiction the option to have a say (however small) in how their country is governed. Assuming politicians are, in fact, the conniving lying [insert expletive here]s many seem to think they are, which is better - having a say in which lying conniving so-and-so governs, or having no say?

Whatever your answer, obviously, if you had the opportunity to have a say and didn't take it, you have no right to complain when your taxes aren't what you'd like them to be or a law is passed with which you disagree or etc.

I'm really not here to tell people why they should or shouldn't vote. However, I can ponder all the telling questions I like, and I can definitely add my opinion to the churning mass of others' thoughts that are out there.

So here it is:

VOTE OCTOBER 14TH!

07 October 2008

Feet of Shadows

My intent, in beginning this post, was to give a background to the pretty new header up there and explain why I'm brown instead of green now and where The Elvish Pirate went (answer: down into the Davy Jones' Locker of bad blog names), but I am somewhat hampered because, as it says in my handy new Welcome note at the side, my name comes from C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce. Now, I know we own this book somewhere, but after a cursory perusal of our bookshelf, I can't find it. So bear with me as I go from memory.

The basic premise of The Great Divorce is that a busload of people who are essentially tourists have come up from Hell to visit Heaven. Hell, in this portrayal, is a grey, depressing city, and heaven is brilliant and full of light - and most importantly, painfully solid to these people from Hell, who appear as ghosts. They can hardly walk on the ground without hurting themselves, because the grass does not give way under their feet.

And this, an inkling of which has probably occurred to you by now, is where the quote comes from. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. Heaven is reality, and the people from Hell have feet of shadows. I think that this is considerably applicable to life as we know it. So much of the time, we focus on meaningless things and ignore, well, the reality, and if we're not prepared for it now, reality will certainly be harsh to the feet of shadows when we reach it.

Basically - God is reality. We have feet of shadows. I could extend the metaphor further, but I think the point is made.

Never fear, I shall not wax theological in every single one of my posts to follow. I'm aware that some variety never goes amiss. But I've realized, in these last few weeks, that my life should ultimately point to God no matter if it's blog-life or real-life. That's not to say it does, not by a long shot - none of us are perfect and I am no exception. But the title merited a change.