To my delight, Downton Abbey returned on the air this week. The heavily buzzed about season premiere was in one local critic's opinion, embracing more tired cliches that make it both "wonderful, and even more of what makes it maddening." For some reason our society loves to hate cliches - probably for their lack for originality, which in turn seem to make their intent less than credible. But sometimes, a spew of cliches is exactly what we need. I sat transfixed to the TV during the premiere, loving every cliche that was delivered. The writers knew there would be people like me to eat them up.

There's nothing tired about a cliche that holds valuable truth. And with the start of 2014 I intend on participating in the cliche of making a new year's resolution to write more. It's a new year, and a new beginning.

Daylight savings is great at this time of year to "gain" an extra hour. I've decided to spend part of the extra time of my day to blog. It's been a bit hard to describe how I am doing as of late (at least, when asked, I've found it hard to figure out what to say other than I'm ecstatic that the Giants won the World Series). The problem with answering how I'm doing is I often have multiple strands of thoughts running through my head. I'm never sure which thought to expand on, or which part of my life I should detail. And then there are the things that I ought to be thinking about or taking action on that I just haven't done anything about. So I occupy myself with the less important things to avoid the things I know I must do but don't want to. Pity the person who asks how I'm doing. Little do they know the complexity of that answer from me!

After all that, I still haven't said how I'm doing. Stay tuned for more from me this week.

This week a friend told me that it is easier for him to completely tune out his favorite baseball team than be a fan. To clarify, he told me that as a fan in the past he would become overly invested, leading to disappointment and feeling poorly if the team did not succeed. As a fan of that same baseball team I tried to coax him back, telling him that it is possible to live somewhere in between.

It is easier for us as humans to deal in extremes rather than somewhere in the ambiguous middle. Think of this in terms of faith. It is considerably easier for us to say there isn't a God because believing that there is requires faith. And faith in the already but not yet of our salvation is tough because the present life poses disappointment, hurt, and struggle.

I love baseball, but winning or losing in the end doesn't really matter (remind me of this if the Giants do not take it all the way this season). Yet it does matter for us who dare to hope in eternity - that one day all the soreness of the in between will one Day be resolved in final victory. And that is worth cheering on until that Day.

President Obama seemed a little off his game tonight compared to a more tenacious Mitt Romney. This is not meant as a political post by any means, but more a remark on what's been on my mind the last two weekends - speaking in front of an audience. Sure, I speak in front of an audience for a living (my students), but executing a 3, or even 6 hour class gives me a lot less nerves (though, still some) than having to actually speak in front of my peers. Plus, when I'm nervous teaching I can shuffle papers until the class begins. When you speak in front of an audience you have to be on almost immediately and that scares me.

I've learned to deal with my anxiety mostly by learning to get over myself. I suppose that's how most fears are conquered, but any self-help book can tell you that. More satisfying is that when I let go, I'm able to see a competence not my own. And in the end, I think that's the point - was this ever about me?

Though the presence of suffering may never have a completely satisfying answer, a lot can be said about one who knows your suffering. The other day one of the high school girls I used to counsel asked me if I remember sharing that I used to cry in the shower a lot. Of all the things I shared, this is what she remembers? She then proceeded to tell me that she felt like she needed one of those cries in the shower herself. My heart went out to her. I remember how devastating much of high school was for me, and the steady stream of shower water swallowing my tears during each cry session.

There is a Man of Sorrow who not only identifies in our suffering, but suffered in our place so that our suffering now gives way to hope. If my slight suffering proved comforting, how much more through Him our comfort overflows! Amen.

Sometimes I'm an unfocused mess and unable to determine what actually needs my attention and what can wait. There were times this past summer semester that I returned from teaching a 6-hour class hungry, tired, and talked out. And needing to use the bathroom. My impulse with all these competing needs was to crawl up in fetal position and call it a night. Except I would still be in the office and have a 40-minute MUNI ride ahead of me.

Interesting when there are so many things that need attention that our default is just to do nothing at all. I'm learning there is value to still choosing to do the next thing - biting the bullet when there's a hard pill to swallow (here, cliches seem to nail my point!).

On my evening commute a guy plopped down in the seat next to me and proceeded to flip open his laptop. The corner of my eye caught a glimpse of his screen, and I recognized the gibberish I saw to be code. He was programming while in transit! A part of me thought ew and the other part of me was completely fascinated. I wanted to make sense of his world and understand it for myself. Then I began to wonder if I could ever hack it as a programmer. Sometimes I find myself saying that in another life I'd be this or that. And then I realize that leaves me discontented, or worse, thinking that I can be someone I'm clearly not. As a teacher, I grade papers standing up without holding on to anything as the train lurches forward. Beat that, programmer dude!

I can't believe it's taken me this long to return. I know I've left for periods before, but this is certainly the longest I've been away. It's true that I've been meaning to reinvest into my woefully unattended blog, but each time I seem to resist the urge to write, choosing instead to remain in my own inner world of thoughts (mostly on MUNI commutes, biting my lower lip and staring off into space - my apologies if you've ever caught me in one of those moments).

I've decided it's time to allow my thoughts to go public once again. Not that I've wanted to keep my thoughts to myself - but there's vulnerability in knowing someone else is reading. And I'm learning that vulnerability is not such a bad thing.

There are three types of people in service occupations that I like to befriend - security guards, janitors, and taxi drivers. These people are gatekeepers to sometimes privileged information, which is one reason I'm drawn to them.  Another reason is because after working in retail you empathize with anyone who has to deal with the general public on a regular basis.  On my recent trip to Singapore (my first time there), it was taxi drivers that I connected with.  I happily chatted it up with the driver on my first taxi ride as he rattled off all the important facts and points of interests of his homeland.  There's something about discovering new places that I love, and I usually ask the same questions to different drivers even though I may already know the answers (acting completely ignorant means better conversation).

I know not all people in service positions are nice.  But you never know what you discover when you make friends from these people.  It sometimes even gets me free food :)

It's easy to be anonymous in a city like Hong Kong. Walking the streets I am enveloped by a sea of people, mostly uncaring. The beggars here must see pass this, however. They lie prostrate on the floor in faith that they not only won't get trampled on, but that someone will show them some generosity. My sense is that I can do little to get noticed here in a city teeming with expats and exposure from practically everywhere in the world. Being a visitor here further distances me from a deeper sense of belonging. I guess that's why home always feels so good! When away, knowing you belong elsewhere makes it okay as a stranger just for a little while.