Trials in a semi-silent room.

I am sitting in a room with no other sound in it but that of a frustrated middle aged man talking on his cell phone. Every word he says bounces around in the solitary silence of this study area. as a rough estimate i would say that 90% of everything he is talking about is completely self centric, and the other 10% is all his Californian valley girl-isims including "oh, my gosh" and "are you serious?" etc. all pronounced with a slight lisp. But you have to understand that this is not a normal "are you serious?" its the kind that you hear lame-shopping mall chicks saying when they discover that their favorite body works store just ran out of their favorite body butter. If I were facing this man I am convinced that I would have seen little scandalized hand gestures and rolling eyes. For the sake of all that is good in this world, you are a middle aged balding man! Please immediately desist your self-centered conversation or take it to the ladies room or where ever it is that you use facilities! To make it worse, he has been whining for the last 1.5 hours and venting the deepest laments of his shallow heart in a completely audible decibel level in this silent study area! In the midst of studies I cannot help but feel sorry for this deranged soul. After the first hour I began to doubt if there was anyone in the world who would actually put up with this kind of one sided phone conversation; there were no silent spaces in which another party could interject with soothing anecdotes of happiness and joy through trials.

Trials in a semi-silent room.

大統領

This will be my second birthday in a row spent in the Japan Alps. Really nothing to complain about, in fact, its great. Today I had a chocolate cake covered in choco-peanuts (the best thing about Japan, in my oppinion). It read "Happy Birthday 大統領"　(president, thats what they call me)Not only that, but I had a Japanese style yakiniku barbeque (way better than American burgers and crap) and I was surrounded by sweet people. Tomorrow (which is my bearthday) I will be heading up into the Alps on a 3-day backpacking trip with the other staff at Northstar. We're going to eat Japanese noodles, scout some climbing spots, do some inniciative games, sleep in tents, I'll get some more experience guiding, and everyone will go home happy...unless someone dies.

Since last I bloged many things have happened: my brother Ryan got married at Takayama in Sendai (best place ever) I dont have any pics but my sister does. You can check her thing out at roberry.blogspot.com. It was pretty much the best wedding ever. A lot of work, but a lot of fun. And seeing the fam again is a rare treat. Why don't we live closer together anyways? I mean really; Colorado, Washington, California, Japan, and Oregon---not exacty right next door to eachother. But I guess thats how the cookie crumbled.

In other news, it looks like I'll be climbing Fuji a few times this summer, which will be great. All together I think this summers going to be one of the best.

outa here suckers!

Alas my friends, the time is nigh for another “I’m leaving the country” post. The past six months have been spent living in America. Six months is a new record for time spent living in America since I was 13, and I have to say, the experience was…average. In retrospect there was much skiing, much working, much acquisition of worldly outdoorsy goods, surprisingly little time spent being a student (Community College seems to have made a whole new definition for the term “full time student”), a fair amount of time spent on familial engagements, and little time spent doing things with any manner of people that could be called “friends”. Unfortunate as it was, forgoing friendships and all things meaningful that I had developed in my life in BC was the only way to have direction in my life. You see, I have this thing; its like when your pants are on fire and your underpants are filled with red ants and lobsters—its like that. Only all the time. The burning drives me forward constantly so in reflexive action to the fire, red ants, and lobsters I run franticly forward in a randomized and erratic pattern. But in the process I seem to shake off many dear friends. And it saddens my heart greatly to shake off more again. There are three things that humans were never meant to experience: death, disease, and farewells. Unfortunately all are an inevitable part of our futile existences here on planet “Global Warming Will Kill Us All”.

Anyways, I’m off to Japan tomorrow (Thursday, June 14th) so I wish you all many babies and flowery cakes. I will be in Japan working as a guide in the Northern Japan Alps and Mount Fuji with Northstar Outdoor Adventures again. Should be a pretty good time. I’ll be in J-town until late August sometime.

On a lighter note I came up with an idea that seems to support reincarnation. Here’s the idea:
1. If a person hits his head, his memory can be lost or altered forever. He might not remember his name, how to do simple math, or even how to speak. He will not remember who he is married to, who his family is, nothing. He will have to relearn everything.

2. If a person hits his head, his personality can be altered forever. His wife will claim that she doesn’t know him any more, he will be more aggressive or less ambitious, the chemicals in his brain will have changed somehow so that the person you formerly knew as John is now gone and replaced by this new person.

Conclusion:
The soul has no memory or personality in and of itself. If memory can be altered with relative ease by inflicting damage on the physical brain, who would disagree that brain is the only part of a human that retains memory? And when that memory retainer is altered or ceases , there is nothing to fill in. Similarly, if personality can be altered simply with a hammer, does this mean that the death of the brain is the true end of a humans personality? In this argument one could conclude that the soul retains neither memory nor personality; it is simply that which is necessary to provide life, and that which leaves when the body ceases functioning. So if the soul leaves at the time of death (as seems obvious that it does) then where does this life-giving, but impersonal force go? Would it not seek out another creation to give life to? Hence, reincarnation.

Seems to make sense eh? It almost makes too much sense. I haven’t been able to find a counter argument yet. Let me know what you think though, I don’t like that philosophy at all and I want to be rid of it.

library skylight

Sitting below a large opaque skylight in a library I was typing at a computer tending to my extremely dull homework. The skylight that spanned most the way across the library ceiling suddenly got dark and as though an angel accidentally stabbed his sward into the thin canvass of the heavens, the reservoirs from above gave way—each drop of which could easily be accounted for as I heard the deafening droplets assail the foggy skylight. The sound commanded my attention and I looked up. And I thought of you suddenly, are you in the rain? Where had you gone? People, when they go away leave at least some indication of where they are going, but you have departed in silence; silence that speaks in the rain and now deafens me. Do you rise with the sun in the east or glide on the waves of the air? Teach me, teach me how to live my life! A cold draft wrapped itself around my exposed ankles, had that draft always been there? I couldn’t remember. With as much might as with it first began, the deafening barrage of rain stopped, the skylight lit up once more, and I looked around the library expecting something to be different from two minutes ago. But everyone was busy with their computers focusing on some mundane assignment. No, nothing had changed. Nothing perhaps except for me.

paradoxical

There are those people I occasionally meet who are paradoxical to me. We all know that horrible experiences screw people up; parent dies as a kid, abuse of some form or another, overdose of some form or another, and BANG you’re one messed up kid. Its typical for these people to live in gutters or just have a lot a baggage that they carry around. This is normal. But have you met those who have had horrible experiences (horrible enough to warrant a minimum of 10 years of gutter living) and yet somehow seem to over come? These are the paradox-gems. I have met only two such paradoxes (the first one I assumed was an anomaly, but the second time around can be no coincidence) who live with such joy that it literally blows me away. I stand and watch them astounded at their interactions, inspired by their love for people, dumfounded by their wisdom, amazed at their selflessness, and I am left mouth agape seeing these people in light of their past. What great hurtles were overcome and what great wounds healed for this person to stand in front of me now? Confounding. These incite my greatest curiosity and my most profound admiration.

Tell me, what do you know that I don't, what power do you posses, what hidden truths discovered? How do you smile with that glimmer in your eyes and wide genuine smile. Paradox, what has experience taught that you to live so richly.

Or could it be that deepest suffering is the cornerstone of truest life.

open hand

I went out to the woods to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartanlike as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness out of it and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience...
- Henry David Thoreau

To experience life, it must be lived with an open hand. There is no sense in holding onto something tightly when it will be taken anyways. Instead we must live here, we must live today free of fear that limits our potential, free of burdens of yesterday. We must live life with an open hand for that way the adventure is greater and life the sweeter. Time should not be wasted holding onto that which is unholdible or protecting that which is to be taken at any time-catching the breeze is impossible. Haste, haste life and never forget its urgency and never become complacent. For now is all we have.

Cherish yesterday, dream tomorrow, live today.

It is not a long life I ask, but a full one.

e-mail to a friend

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Brent Potter
Date: Wed, 4 Apr 2007 00:09:25 -0700
Subject: My friend
To: Kim Manchip pinto_girl@hotmail.com

My dear friend. You are sorely missed.

You have been an inspiration, a light, and an example. I have stuck in my mind that game we all played in Leavenworth when we stood across from each other and looked in each others eyes in uncomfortably close proximity--conveyor belt style. I remember your eyes clearly. I recall a distinct memory of the light in them, of deepness, of wisdom acquired by experience. It was out of admiration that I made fun of you for washing old people's naked bodies--and to enjoy it! What humility, what desire to bring hope to hopeless elderly! And that is what I admire most about your life--no matter what you did, you focused on others almost to the point of fault. I knew with 100% certainty that no matter what kind of situation I got myself into, no matter how far down I fell, no matter what I did, you would help. And you did many times; you continue to through your memory. You would notice what people like me did not see. Its like that one time at Wendy’s remember? On our way back from some trip. We were hungry, smelly, and I was broke. You "lent" me money (though I did not ask and was in fact outside at the time) and you refused to accept repayment later. It was the same with using your car, and same with lending out equipment in the back country. It was the same with everything you had--you would give it out freely for anyone to use. I wont forget our experiences, swing dancing on the beach, cooking buddy's on trips (we made wicked food...but always too much), skiing, you making fun of my tight yellow goretex pants (you even made fun of them in your last email to me!), hot tub parties, Italian pasta at your house (again, enough to feed a small
country...and delicious), Humpy your miniature humping dog (strangely attracted to my and James' leg), your excellent songs (you never did give yourself enough credit for how good they really were), we were even on the same group for hell night I remember when we were both freezing and traumatized, huddling under the one sleeping bag after the medical drill; we told any story at all to get our minds off the cold.

You were there from my very first trip in OL through to the GOSE. And I'm there by you in the pictures still--frozen in time with blissful smiles live with cheery expressions. My favourite pics are the ones where we’re jumping off the cornice and the dancing on the beach at the Olympic Peninsula. Damn it Kim, you had the most beautiful smile that would shine with love on all people you would talk to; but not only a smile, a genuine desire to get to know, to genuinely understand and appreciate those you would come in contact with--with no discrimination. I am left perplexed, vexed, astounded at how it could be that you, Kim, so beautiful by all standards, someone who the world desperately needs should be taken in an avalanche whilst the rest of us commoners live on to live out mediocre lives. Goddamn it Kim! You were going to get married to James, have a family in BC; I was going to have a family god knows where, and our kids were going to play together as we hung out drinking coffee and pretending to be adults. My wife would talk to you about how stupid I was, and you would talk to her about how stupid James was. How can it be that we should be allowed to live and you are not? Perhaps heaven itself could not wait long enough for your scheduled arrival.

I remember one of the quotes you told me, "I am only one tree in a forest, yet I am still one tree". People are always saying that they can’t do anything to change the world, they don’t have the resources, the don’t know the right people, dont have enough money--BUT I am still one tree. Because I am a person--that is enough to make a difference. Another thing you would quote all the time, "Ask not what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive... then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." I've wondered Kim. I’ve wondered about why you were snowboarding up there that day, and how everything would be different if you had only taken the second helicopter and not the first. I've been wondering about the hazards of anything outdoor related and what good can come out of it. I've been thinking that maybe all these risks we take pursuing vain activities in the outdoors aren’t worth it when there’s so much wrong with the world. But you were doing what that quote said, you were doing what made you come alive and by doing so you made the world around you come alive. That was the experience for me, and no doubt those up there skiing with you. For one tree in a forest Kim, I don’t think you could have been done better.

Tears cannot express how much it saddens me to send this email knowing that it will go to your inbox never to be read. Instead it will eventually be deleted by your inactive account; its storage space to be recycled for a new hotmail subscriber. You've no idea how much I regret never sharing my admiration of you while you were still with us...though I am not yet fully convinced that you are not. You lived for others and never grave yourself enough credit for all you did. I will remember you Kim, your smile, our trips, your dog, the songs, the quotes. I strive one day to talk to people as you did and to genuinely love them as selflessly as you did.

My dear friend, you are sorely missed.
I anxiously await our next meeting, days or decades from now. I await the day when we will sit down for a cup of coffee and talk about the good old days while pretending to be adults.
How I wish you'd reply.
Your friend forever,
Brent

You can read about what happened to Kim here.