Debug this Cosmos

I believe that we've all got something sitting beneath our skin. It's often that one little thing that causes the most tension in our universe. It's something that is not so deep that it can go ignored or silently betrayed, yet nor is it so present on our skin - as the goosebumps it may cause - that we can have it defined by others without explaining it ourselves. This cosmos between Flesh and Spirit is suspended, held captive by nerves and by neuroses, anxiously waiting - anticipating even - redemption.

Yet, we so oft leave it to fester. A pest it becomes to our existence as we avoid the in-betweens of introspection. We may ail by not seeking deep within to find the core of the imbalance - taking the plunge on the far side of the pool. We want to be known deeply. Even so, we equally feign to go past diagnoses of common colds and intemperance of the purely physical. "I'm fine today." (Hopefully more to be said on this abusive response to "How are you?" in coming posts.)

We hate the doorway. Come in, or stay out, just don't leave the door open 'cause you're letting the cold in. What if we spent some more time in the doorway? What if we took some more time to look around. Open that door. Look back. Look forward.

What currently frames your existence?
What color are the walls in the room behind you, and in the room before you?

Change is a choice (sometimes). Openness is a choice. Self-examination is a choice. Self-proclamation is a choice. Each time we are faced with such choices, we are framed by the options. To stay or to go, to escape the past or change the present?

Therefore, I encourage you: wipe your feet, stamp them if you must, open the door and step onto the threshold and examine the doorway. What are your options?

Perhaps you do not have a door at this point, or perhaps that door is presently looked. You are blessed with the path of patience. If the door is locked, or only windows decorate your walls, you shall wait. No, the waiting game is not always fun, but who was talking about fun? We're talking pragmatism here, right?

With those questions asked, and those messy metaphors manifest, mutilated by my minute mastery, I acknowledge the beautiful threshold my feet stand upon: summer. I write now, this last night of my sophomore year, looking through the door frame. Standing under it, I look up. I see hope, encouragement, opportunities of growth, and I see challenge. How will I hold up the cross of evangelism in a postmodern socialscape this summer? I look behind me. I feel the breeze, I smell the scent of the spring lilac, and I hear the morning robin. I am reminded, "Just as I prepare the earth for spring through the harsh but brilliant blanket of winter's storms, so have I prepared your heart. Watch as I raise beautiful blooms of hope from your eager earth. Wait, as will I water you through the summer's driest of droughts. And be wary, let not doubt tempt you as your soul's autumnal metamorphosis challenges your understanding of my life-giving salvation. Just know that you are loved. Now move, be carried by my grace."

I have a few weeks to remain on this doorstep before this wind becomes too strong for me to stand. I have encouraged you to be patient on this stoop, but do not sleep upon it. Lest you forget, a door frame is for doors, and doors are for separating rooms. At some time you will be set apart from your past (though always in the same house as it); don't get stuck in the terminal (though the movie with Tom Hanks is delightful).

There is a very interesting quote from one wildly trippy movie entitled Waking Life and it is: The idea is to remain in a constant state of departure while always arriving. I can't say I entirely agree with this, to disappoint my good friend Brooke who introduced me to the movie, but I think it enlightens us to two attitudes that we are unconsciously familiar with, that is departure and arrival. The doorstep is the venue for such attitudes to be examined.

In closing, "know thyself". To the Philosopher's imperative I add, "know God". The doorway is the threshold on which such examination can and should be had. Under the keystone that holds the arch round and true lies the altar stone that challenges us to surrender ourselves to whatever path the Truth offers.

Now, back to where we began. Is there something that must be shed in preparation for the next room? What comes off as you stamp your boots of the grime of the past? Switching to a new metaphor, below I share a piece I wrote sometime late in high school. It is about self-examination.

Take a breath.
Step onto your mind's doorstep for just a moment, look up, look down, and look at yourself. You must examine what is within before you can embrace that which you cannot live without.
Between this cosmos and the next, you have the threshold of surrender.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Debug
It wasn’t very big, or very scary, or even unattractive.
I gave it a flick and it flew away.
They weren’t very big, or very scary, or even unattractive.
The first one must have told the second about my kindness.
I gave two flicks.
It was rather large, and rather scary.
But still not unattractive.
I try to flick it, but it won’t fly.
Bugs need a home too.
They both were rather large, and rather scary.
You can sort of see them through my skin.
I’m starting to think I need more than a flick.
But, bugs need a home too.
The bugs ate me alive today.
It seems they were big.
Big enough.
They were pretty scary,
But looks don’t matter much.
I’m not that attractive,
Now that all that’s left is this ravaged heart.
It seems even they didn’t want all of it,
They had had enough.
You could give it a flick, and see if it flies.
No promises though.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

C'est tout pour maintenant. That's all for now.
Peace out.

raison d’être

This blog is being built upon the precipice of a few futures: a summer in Europe with Wheaton College’s Youth Hostel Ministry, a year as the RA of Evans 2, and the eternally expansive threshold of me transcending sinfully natural limits to become one entranced solely by the Right One and righteousness– my heavenly Father and His works.

And, yes, what you just read may be your first JBrown sentence. Welcome to my world in which cacophonic thoughts attempt to become pleasing poetry as they writhe, wrestling with the English lexicon to find harmony through the pursed lips of these misplaced lobes (that is, my brain, contrary to common belief, is found somewhere floating, unfixed, in front of my sternum).

So, why do I welcome you along on these journeys? Eh, I don’t know yet. Maybe it is because I think pensivity is too great an adventure to go alone. Maybe it is because I believe that what is occurring in my heart and mind is yearning to make some waves in the collective consciousness pool of postmodern thought. Maybe it is because I believe that Jesus can walk even upon those stormy waters. And, maybe I’ll prance around before returning to my initial answer: I do not know yet. Relativity sucks, don’t it? That’s why I need your firing neurons to collide with mine, and this exchange of psychological mortar will be the envy of all wars past and future. Then maybe by thinking and expressing, we can all find peace - or at least the buffer that is understanding.

Now, to the future topics of this blog:

• Peace, shalom, community, and reconciliation - my mind, heart, and soul’s closest lovers, right after a worshipful admiration of their Creator
• Travel – I hope to bring you along through Europe, a-hostelling we shall go!
• Politics – eh, not likely but I’ll give myself some liberal bounds as I am an International Relations Major
• Art…? – possibly even less likely, as I tend to do rather than publically philosophize when it comes to art, but maybe what you’ll find on here will help you to form a view/definition of art (as something that may come up is a theology of continual creation)

Additional things you may find here:

• Passive language: I need your help to dry the grout and make the mosaic of my worldview concrete.
• Tangled-necklace language: During my senior year of high school my English teacher told me that my writing was like an entanglement of gold necklaces: very pretty but not very accessible. So, good luck…?
• That-is-not-English language: Okay, so I make up words. Some of them are informed by my intermediate understanding of French. Some of them I have thought were words for a long time, but am simply misinformed (en exemple: “moreso” is actually two words as I’ve recently been told, though I’ve used in many papers as just one…oops.) Un autre: “pensivity”, though technically not a word according to Word, but as you may have ascertained, it is the nature [or nurture] of being pensive. Trivia: penser [pohn*say] is the French verb to think.
• Metaphoric language: I work in images and concepts. The minute you narrate anything for me I am probably seeing it live and in color, and likely in a very odd way. Just as images are imprinted on my brain, so my brain expresses via my mouth or my typing or painting fingers. This is truly a blessing and a curse. Don’t understand what I’m saying at one given point? Drink it again. Still nothing? Let it simmer. Still nothing? Go to the source. I will not claim to be the well, but I will likely know some way to get the unfettered bucket up from the bottom of it. (That was an unwarranted manifest example.)

Well folks, thanks for joining. Was this long? No. This is the most practical post you may see. This is an experiment. I’m trying to see what it’s like to increase the number of philosophical collisions so as to distil the emissions of my soul, and maybe our souls. I hope that if this does not bring any enjoyment, it may at least be for some better good of us. I do not want this to just be a “Jason posts weird wonderings” space; I want this to be a place to explore oneself and the essence(s) of humanity and be in community and communion. (Practical translation: Please comment and be willing to be commented on.)

C’est tout pour maintenant. That’s all for now
[say*too*pohr*mayn*teh*nahn]

Peace out.