The sound of the keening bell. And to see its pain erect. Soft as fontanelle.
So today was Christmas. Fancy that. It was the first Christmas I have experienced and felt very little religious/spiritual affiliation in any way. Perhaps it is the lack of singing in Choir this year at PLU for our great Christmas program. Maybe it is whole studying in Australia for 6 months and not going to church at all in a more secular culture. I don't feel bad about it, nor do I feel good about it. I'm not one of those that believes it's actually Jesus's birthday, nor do I think that Christmas originated as a religious festivity for this time of year, but I think I find the ritual of it important. When it comes to the bible, I honestly couldn't care less if a majority of what is in it is fact or myth. I do not find the factuality to be essential to Christianity and literalism to be a response to modernism and the Enlightenment. The one hang up is the whole Jesus being the son of God thing. I suppose that is an essential part of Christianity. But regardless of whether Jesus is a 'He' or a 'he' there is no denying the impact his teachings, spirituality, morality have had the life I am leading. And even if it is not his birthday, I do think there is great significance and importance in setting aside a day or two to honor the birth and life of him. But I really have to say that I did not do that at all today. I would like to be able to retort to that notion and be able to say that is okay because my everyday life is a testament and honor to the Lord Christ our God, but that would be bull shit. I'm not entirely sure where I am going with this.
On another note, Christmas was quite nice this year. One thing I do enjoy about Christmas is the visits from my Aunt Lee. She used to live in Fircrest a few years back, but moved to St. Louis for a job. My father is quite funny to see around Lee. He's more sarcastic and jubilant than usual. Well perhaps not more, just more overt about it. My dad's a pretty good guy. I remembering hearing from someone dear that I am just like dad. Usually parental comparisons carry a negative or teasing tone, but I'm beginning to see that hearing it as a comparison is quite a good thing. We spent this afternoon, waiting for the turkey to cook, watching Arrested Development, chatting, and playing with my new Wii. I enjoy spending time with my Dad. I mean I always have, but I've never really had that open, intimate, relationship with my father. More adult like I suppose. I think I'm at a point where the dynamic is ready to change. I've been talking to him about the new house and little projects I want to do. The bathroom sink for instance. I figure I can easily figure out how to fix it on my own, but I think I'll have him come over to go over it with me just so I can have some of that father son bonding over "manly" work. Maggie, not only do I intend to fix the clogging and the stopper, but I am going fix the faucet so hot and cold work the right way. Also I've been talking to him about lighting. The living room bugs me. There's a fixture with no light and two lamps in the corner of the room do not do it for me. I am fortunate to have my father. He's a damn good man.
I also need to spend more time with my Grandfather. He's getting old. He has a tumor in his leg larger than a football that is being operated on this coming Tuesday. No one is really scared about the procedure, but it will not be fun. I need to spend more time with him while he's still around. He's had quite an interesting life, and he's been trying to teach me a lot the past few times we've spoken. Money, life, values, family, etc. Come to think of it, I have a pretty awesome family. Some of my older cousins are weird. Sometimes I am tempted to go on and live the life of an ascetic during some conversations simply because I do not want to become absorbed in my things. I also want to throw at least half my things away. Coming home, unpacking, and then moving made me realize I have so much shit. It's a burden. All that clothes, pointless little toys, misc. items. It makes me feel constricted.
Back on topic, however, today I realized/remembered that I have a pretty awesome family. I am really fortunate in that regard. I really enjoy hanging out with my little cousins. Playing with them and talking with them is great. Jacob kept teasing Zach, who is 4, about this girl named Grace who we decided is his girlfriend. He ran around both laughing and embarrassed and loudly whispered in my hear "Tell Jacob Grace is not my girlfriend." He then ran off again, laughing and embarrassed to play with his toy cars. I also think it's funny how my cousin Jacob is the only one in my family to attempt to reaffirm my age. Before leaving he said "Have a good one Ben" and then both my little cousins yelled at him declaring that my proper name is Benji. I realized then that they probably never heard me referred to as Ben before in the family since my older cousins are never around them that much. Whenever we have family gatherings I always hear the story of Aunt Liz's Cake. When I was 3 or 4 Aunt Liz was baking one of her double layered cakes that were always oh so yummy when I was a kid. She had just stacked the two layers and was waiting to apply the whipped cream to finish the cake. I was sitting on the table with the cake in front of me. Aunt Liz look at me and said "Benji, now don't eat the cake. It's for later tonight." I stared back. I was an awfully quiet kid and well behaved. My silence could generally be understood as my consent to compliance. So she leaves the room. And I would just like to point out that she left the room with a 4 year old sitting on a table, or so the story goes, yet no one in my family is worried about that. Eventually cousin Jacob comes in. He sees me having a staring contest with the cake and says "Benji, you can't eat that cake, okay?" I look up to him, stare for a good 3 seconds, fixate onto the cake, and then plant my face into it. It's a pretty cute story. I think it helps explain where all this endearing charm comes from. The point, however is, to my family I will probably always be remembered, to some degree, as Benji. It's kind of annoying, but ultimately a good thing. Having that constant reminder of where you came from can be a good thing.
Despite the joy of family and being around them, I cannot help but feel more than ever compelled to get out of Tacoma as soon as possible. I would become terribly bored and dull if I just stuck around. My grandfather and grandmother did a fair share of moving around in there day between the States, Honk Kong, and China. I think that helped develop a lot of their character and virtue. I could see the possibility of living life exactly like my parents, or mother at least. Staying in the same area my whole life. It's not a bad thing. She's done quite a lot of traveling for vacation and fun. Perhaps it is good contrast from her parent's llife style and youth. I'm sure I could do grad school at the UW, get a stable job, marry a girl, raise a family, live a good life. I would probably be content and happy. It's attainable, could happen. But right now I have so much curiosity to do something different. I need to at least stay long enough in one more country to the point I can say I lived there. I want to see as much of the world as possible. Yet, at the same time I family and life of international mystery do not go hand in hand. And I don't want to be the really old Dad. And family, raising kids is something that really appeals to me, like I am meant to do it. Not in the biological I have a penis and have an inherent function to reproduce. But more so the clearly seeing that I need to do it to live a fulfilling life worth living. And it reminds me of a Theodore Roosevelt quote from his autobiography:
"There are many kinds of success in life worth having. It is exceedingly interesting and attractive to be a successful business man, or railroad man, or farmer, or a successful lawyer, or doctor, or a writer, or a president, or a ranchman, or the colonel of a fighting regiment, or to kill grizzly bears and lions. But for unflagging interest and enjoyment, a household of children, if things go reasonably well, certainly makes all other forms of success and achievement lose their importance by comparison. It may be true that he travels farthest who travels alone; but the goal thus reached is not worth reaching."
And this is a man who did it all. But I suppose it's easier to do it all when you are from a powerful family. Somewhere there's a balance, but I cannot see where that would be in my imagined futures. I'm more than half-way through my undergrad. A year and a half left. I'll be needing to make some decisions. I need to figure a lot out. I'll be in the real world to some degree after that. If you calculate some sort of grad school you realize that my youth seems incredibly short. And I will be broke for most of it and be late getting into a career field. I'm really uncertain as to what my life has in store. It scares me. But then I realize, that is the beauty of youth. I get to figure that out and have no obligation to consider many or any others. There's a an amazing sense of freedom in that. However, it is still much more fun to be able to share part of that with others.