The Hard, But Awesome, Condition of Being Human

Note: It's been a while since anything's been posted. Sorry, I haven't felt motivated enough to write anything until now. This post is a personal writing piece and isn't connected to Denmark, but the next one will definitely be about exchange. You have a kinda sorta promise.

In the 2011 movie Limitless, Bradley Cooper stars as Eddie Morra.

Eddie is a writer who can't write a damn thing. He inhabits an apartment strewn in dirty plates and clothes. He eats greasy food and his biggest workout is getting off his chair and stumbling into a bar. His dreams are in shambles.

His beautiful and successful girlfriend leaves him, and he's left staring at a blank screen, bitch slapped daily by writer's block.

That's until he encounters his ex-wife's drug dealing brother after nine years of no contact. They stroll into a bar and after Eddie recounts his recent misfortunes, Mr. Wholesome Drug Dealer pulls out a slightly opaque, clear-colored tablet.

Eddie is promised that this single drug will revitalize his creative spark. Pushing away his skepticism, he takes it. After all, his life can't get any worse.

In about 30 seconds his energy and mental processing are boosted. The learning curve for languages and dense subjects is weeks long at most. His foresight is maximized and his attitude goes from slobbery loser to the epitome of charming sexiness.

He also sleeps with his landlord's wife during an argument with her over unpaid rent.

A week goes by. He's earned millions of dollars and admiration from Wall Street's most powerful businessmen. His ex-girlfriend returns and falls in love with this new, intimidating man.

Eddie faces challenges, but ends up becoming the perfect badass.

During the credits, my first thought was we'd all love to have that magic pill. Just swallow it and the barriers holding us back would disappear. Opportunities would beckon to us and we'd only need to walk toward them. We could do anything.

A couple of minutes later I realized we already had that magic pill. But it's not something we can actually ingest. It's an idea many of us, including me, have created in our heads. A shitty, gratifying one at that.

There are an infinite number of stories about amazing men and women, both from history and fiction, who've accomplished ridiculous feats. Read a book about any god in any culture or go to the movies. You'll find them.

Iron Man is a good example. Tony Stark is a technological genius with a ton of wealth. He's handsome. He's full of witty comebacks and never fails to find a solution to whatever catastrophes crash into his life.

We also don't have a badass metal suit like his

At a quick glance, this sucks for us. If we only had the money or the inherent intellect, then everything would be peachy, but most of us don't. You might as well jump off a bridge with your DVD box set of Vampire Diaries.

There's a mystical aura surrounding these sorts of guys when we hear about them. The movies, documentaries, and legends captivate us. We're awestruck by the crazy shit they've done and hope we can accomplish stuff as great as theirs.

They were also in ideal scenarios that demanded strong individuals to rise, which is further romanticized when their actions are refined into digestible stories, since entertainment value carries more weight than accuracy or realism to our immediate attention spans. 

They also never die in epic shootouts or sword fights, while we can choke to death eating toast.  

So what we get is the satisfying icing of the multi-layered and flawed truth that is reality. And if we're not aware of this, it gets easy to assume the tasty surface is all there is.

Holding this mindset, we'll go nowhere with any skill we want to develop.

I was with a good friend a few weeks ago. We were taking a train to Copenhagen and we sat in front of a talkative couple. I heard them speaking in French and perked up. I dished out what I knew and the three of us had a chat, totally in French.

My buddy was dumbfounded. He said it was incredible I could hold a conversation for several minutes in the language.

While this felt cool to hear, I had to tell him about how much practice it took to get to that level.

Years of paying attention in class (for once, school was a great learning resource). Months of listening to French music and news, repeating each word to master the small quirks. The painful interactions where a native speaker would have to slowly stress each syllable before I understood. I even told a girl from Paris she had a great ass on accident. Pretty grueling.

Sticking through this period of throwing stuff out there and learning from the screw ups was possible because I was wholeheartedly inspired to learn. So it happened after a while.

Had I assumed after a couple weeks of training that I should have held a respectable fluency in French, I would have gotten frustrated and given up soon after.  

Our willingness to endure the unappreciated grind of learning a new skill and how much we enjoy the process are the strongest determinants of whether we'll learn it or not.

This has been said a million times over by motivational speakers, writers, gurus, and eminent historical figures. But I feel it's useless to hear so often. Plus it's usually simplified into empty lines like "just follow your dreams" and "you can do whatever you want".

I believe it's irrelevant how much you read or hear something, even if it's amazing. You can have some dude with a megaphone blaring wisdom into your ears and writing down every step you need to take. It may provide you the best plans to whatever goals you have, but if you're not ready to use the information to your advantage, if you're not emotionally spurred by what you want to do, it's wasted effort. It's up to you to choose when you're ready to try.

The how or when are all over the place. I have my own story (which is still ongoing). Other people have theirs. But I believe there is a starting point: identifying what's important to us, what hasn't helped so far and how it needs to be revamped, being okay with having messed up for so long, etc.   

Much of what's airing on TV or playing in the movies don't show this kind of complexity. It would be boring and slow. It's far more interesting to have a protagonist who always turns out fine at the end.  

However, the Tony Stark's and the Eddie Morra's we imagine stay in our imaginations while the Michael Phelps's and Michael Jordan's train their asses off, most of us ignorant of the struggles they braved to be on the TV screen. 

This isn't to say the media should undergo a revolution that portrays everything as candidly as possible. It'll be depressing as hell. And then the joy of making a fun movie or story disappears. Sometimes relaxing with a movie and junk food is perfect. I like to do that.

What I do advocate is understanding our lives on a much wider scope. Like wide as fuck:

What passions make your heart flutter? What difficulties are you willing to endure to live how you want?

What are your weaknesses as a person? Do you have attachment issues or can't seem to ever feel comfortable in social situations? Why? And of course what you can do to improve this?  

Can you honestly say you're taking responsibility for your happiness?

I took these questions from countless people. They've been asked in different ways for hundreds of years, more so in the past few decades. Even in the 21st century, they're still very significant.

What was tough for me to comprehend was when you investigate yourself in a wholistic way, who you are, why you are working a particular job or doing something, the path you take can be alarming.

In my former high school, a lot of students were already talking about their college plans when they were 14 or 15. They needed to achieve A's in these classes and join a minimum number of extracurriculars to be accepted to that particular university.

Back then I had no idea what I was doing. Picking this college and that major and already having a career in mind didn't occur to me.

I did question why everyone else was though. I wanted to know what three to four (and maybe more afterward) years of college had to offer. 

This didn't mean I had an automatic leg up on anyone. If you haven't read the other posts, I actually failed school for months and excessively played video games. Fortunately I managed to reverse these habits and refocus on more worthwhile activities.

One of these was talking with my classmates, making friends, and getting their input.

Some students knew what they were getting into with college. More school truly felt like the right choice to them. Cool. But some didn't. They were going with the majority, even with their doubts, because it was too daunting to try anything else.

I even corresponded with teachers. A few directly went to college while others had stuff to deal with before going anywhere.

One teacher had to begin to take his life seriously during his early twenties. His girlfriend threatened to break up with him if he didn't find a career. He had spent years going to bars and partying the night away after barely passing high school. She couldn't stand his bullshit anymore.

He restarted his academics at a local university and found a passion in history and sports. Now he's a history teacher who coaches football. The girlfriend who didn't accept his bullshit became his wife.

Another flew to Hawaii and earned money through odd jobs. After a few years of sun bathing and hula dancing, he noticed the lack of purpose in what he was doing, and chose to go to a university in Boston. He majored in political science, later becoming a lobbyist. After growing sick of politics, he earned a teaching degree out of a genuine love for educating students, even with a much lower salary. 

Their stories didn't give any clear answers about the future, in fact making it seem more uncertain.

This was kind of scary in the beginning, but later the uncertainty turned into a valuable opportunity. Not too many other people were taking the time to discover what peaked their interests, There wasn't much specific advice I could take for what I wanted to do.

A few years of high school went by while I had these questions in mind. Loads of researching and pursuing what I liked went hand in hand during this time.

It turned out to be the perfect recipe for engaging with myself. I recognized what I could have been doing better and how leaping into the unfamiliar was nothing to be panicked by. And that led to me being a lot more realistic about school grades. They did matter. College did have value along with the negative parts, in a lot of surprising ways. Managing finances and having a source of income was really goddamn important. My failures weren't my parents' fault. Aliens probably existed. And of course, we can't always feel happy and content. I needed this grounding before I could go anywhere.

Living how we want isn't achieved by completing a list of tasks. It changes as we change. That promising career loses its luster once you realize how much it'll keep you away from your family. Staying in the town where you know everybody becomes constricting when you realize how enormous the world is. Then after a few years of traveling, settling down somewhere becomes an attractive option for you again. It's an everlasting pilgrimage because we discover a new destination with each step we take.

This correctly suggests unpredictability in our lives, but even without a road map, we all have someplace to begin.

To act consistently to your values. To chase what you want despite the self-doubt and discouragement from others. To be wrong over and over again. To have an understanding of how much of a grind it's going to be and being all right with it. 

Yeah, it guarantees pain for you in some moments. You'll want to quit. You'll want to return to auto-pilot, going with the flow and accepting what's given to you. It's natural. It's human.

The meaning behind your actions has to draw you back into the fray. If it's important enough to you, you'll keep going. If it's not, you won't. 

The pending joys and miseries are your responsibility.

Or just take some drugs and hope for the best.

Photo Credit: Ewan Cross

Bring an Umbrella to Denmark

Night commanded the sky as the sun completely set. The water droplets rapidly pattered against the lake, the darkness shrouding their tiny crater-like impacts on the surface. The lake's stillness granted it an illusion of being pure black marble. I almost climbed the low rail and jumped into it, hoping to take a shortcut through a lengthy path and thinking the body was a hard surface, but my common sense came to the rescue by noting the lake looked bizarre enough to merit a closer look. That likely saved my life...considering I can barely swim.

Freezing wind accompanied the periodic bursts of rain, followed by a sudden lull of both elements. After a minute of peace the two resumed their concurrent attack, only to pause again, and the pattern would mercilessly repeat during my trek, a trademark of Danish weather. 

My once warm military jacket was drenched and the water seeped through multiple layers of clothing. When the cold reached my skin, I involuntarily shuddered. All I wanted to do was sleep in a warm and cozy bed.

But I had to get where I was going.

I was rushing to a party a couple of nights ago and ended up lost for an hour. It was because of my discomfort with taking any sort of public transportation, which made me delay leaving the house until the last minute. That was when the clouds let the rain loose. 

In California I usually had someone drive me places. I could shut off from the world and relax while a friend or my parents drove to wherever we were going.

In Denmark that luxury's gone. The buses and trains available in the excellent public transportation system don't leave me with any excuses.

And after a month of avoidance, I had to use it. It ended up fine. 

There isn't any profundity in realizing that I could take a train or bus to get somewhere. I had a similar issue with planes before flying to Denmark. What's relevant is the overarching principle behind what made me reluctant to try, or more of what leaves all of us with the same feeling. It traps many people in a cycle of inaction and dependence, and when confined in this cycle over the course of years, learned helplessness and misery creep into our lives, eventually overshadowing everything else. That's no way to live.

From the ages of 13 to 16, my gaming habit was at its peak. Halo was the first game that I was serious about, then it went to role-playing games, then a touch of strategy, and then more shooters. I averaged five hours per day and shot up to eight in late 2011, which worsened my already crappy grades in my first year of high school.

It was fun. It melted time away. It made me a more knowledgeable and open minded person. And it let me run away from my fears.

I spent nearly a thousand hours on this game

Playing video games as a form of escapism is an old idea, and it's been discussed a lot.

But someone excessively playing Call of Duty or World of Warcraft isn't what's interesting. It's the why, the intention, the fallacies of the superficial reasoning and what they mean, the emotions involved, and more that should be investigated. Replace gaming with any other activity (academics, sports, work, social media, etc.), and while the specifics will differ, the subconscious motivations won't.

My trouble with buses, trains, and planes was never about any of them in particular. It was the fact that I had to manage something on my own. It was my responsibility to arrive at the right destination, and the fear of embarrassment and personal failure by making a mistake, like being lost (especially missing a flight and incurring a penalty), rattled my pride enough to stay away from them until it wasn't possible anymore.

Seems like an overreaction to such a simple process, right? All action is simple in itself. How it makes us feel, the purpose and pertinence we give it, is where the struggle begins.

Public speaking is a common fear for people. So is being honest in a situation where you'd hurt the feelings of someone you care about.

Verbalizing your thoughts in both scenarios is simple. Putting yourself out there, to be vulnerable to the judgement of peers, or potentially straining your relationship with a loved one, is the gut wrenching challenge.

I've observed the wrong choice being made too many times by friends, family, and myself over the years. In the short term everything is peachy, but then the long term consequences of repressing the truth/picking the easy route come back laced with far more agonizing pain.

I have friends who've attempted suicide or fell into depression because they didn't know how to handle their deep seated emotions, or if they did, they'd blame their family or some other factor in their lives. Without grasping the "why" or their own role in the situation, they couldn't do anything about it because from their frame of reference, it was out of their hands. Predictably their angst kept building up until it was unbearable. 

My passion for video games partially originated from a mild phobia of real world social contact. I only saw the negative side of genuine human interaction for a while. Genuine meant standing up for myself and being who I was. The worst of the negative was total social exclusion, which I inordinately focused on. Plus the fictional super-soldiers (looking at you Master Chief) and assassins were funner and less stressful to interact with than actual people.

Later in high school when I accepted the hard truths about myself, that it was up to me to steer toward a better direction and that I could do it, things moved more smoothly than ever. It loaded more pressure onto me since there was responsibility on my shoulders for the first time, but I felt in control of my life for once because it was self-imposed. The relief in recognizing that was uplifting. 

My abysmal grades turned into straight A's and I participated in an awesome non-profit that improved kids' lives (while gaming to a much less extent). I exercised, ate healthier, and developed better relationships with those around me. Achieving those results was grueling and demoralizing at times. It was totally worth it.  

And in the solitude of placing power in oneself, I discovered the joy in bonding with other people and accepting or offering help along the way. I made more great friends and had some crazy romantic experiences that emotionally matured me.   

I had to remind myself about this when I wanted to avoid the damn train. That it was okay to take the wrong one because I could go back. Someone at the station could help. The maps and computers displayed the routes. I was in Denmark on exchange. I was okay. Everyone is. 

The party was decent. Plenty of amiable, drunk teens. I made a friend or two and had some tasty food. The walk back to the train station was fast, even in the downpour (reminder: buy an umbrella). I entered the correct train without a hitch.

The train's final warning dinged and the doors shut. I watched the dark and wet world speed on by for two stops before debarking. Getting home, I tip-toed through the house at 1 AM. After shedding my damp clothes and putting on dry ones, I dropped into my warm and cozy bed and slept well into the next day.

Top Picture Credit: Roshan Panjwani 

The Three Week Mark

In the past 21 days a lot of stuff has happened. The overwhelming majority of it has been pretty damn good.

I'm not a big fan of counting days (forget that I just did it a second ago). It's distracting to take account of the time that's left before finishing this exchange. It just causes you to be worried that there isn't a long enough period to accomplish any substantial goals or that there's so much time left it's fine to relax.

Instead of going with the unnecessary stress or the tempting procrastination, I've been pushing forward with acquiring fluency in Danish. A lot. In the first few days conversing with strangers in the language often confused me and made me look like an idiot. Now it still stumbles me, and my vocabulary is less than a two year old's, but it's growing. My pronunciation is mostly understandable and the structure of the language makes sense. Fuck yeah.

On the first day my counselor and her family had me spend two nights in their home. They were welcoming and it was relaxing just getting to know them. I moved in with my first host family afterward. For now, instead of putting the spotlight on the specifics about my exchange (e.g. my host family, the house, the day-to-day stuff), let's get into broader territory.

Denmark's censorship is non-existent compared to the United States. A few teachers in my school don't hesitate to add a "fuck" or "shit" to emphasize a point. However, violent swearing or physical action is seriously disapproved of. Angry outbursts are met with frowns and head shakes. Trust me. Two weeks ago one of my first phones in Denmark, an artifact from 2007, stopped working at a train station I was unfamiliar with. My smartphone from America had some internal circuitry complication when I tried to use it here, so I was already feeling a little pissed off with having to downgrade. So when the archaeological wonder began to mess up all of a sudden, I loudly yelled "No!". The expressions of the onlookers when they heard me wasn't the best.

This kind of violence isn't in Denmark...anymore

People in general are also relatively comfortable with their bodies. Nudity and sex are seen as expected parts of life, nothing you should be ashamed of. Different types of sexuality are accepted here and women and men are equally respected. May do a post on that later.

The food is healthier and more filling in my opinion. Potatoes, meat, and beer are popular in this nation of approximately six million. Going to the gym and being fit is also encouraged, though the contradiction lies in the popularity of smoking here.

I am loving most of Denmark. So far I'd rather live here than in America. The downside is that my close friends (more like family) are in California. We can't have an insane adventure on a whim, along with breaking a law or two (a joke of course). I can't call them and trade some banter or play pool like we used to do. I've always appreciated that we could share our feelings with each other and exchange intellectual thoughts. Definitely miss it now.

So the loneliness sets in once in a while. But I like to move past it by going outside and finding activities. Why not say hi to someone and try some Danish? Or work out. Or read. Or make more friends at school and play a few sports, party, or maybe even do the Danish class work...eh...no. Besides the last one, the opportunities are endless.

From the 23rd to the 29th, I was at a camp meant for all of the exchange students in Denmark. We stayed at a sort of Danish boarding school in the northern part of the country. It accepts students from their teens to their 40's and was designed among other schools like it to teach practical topics without a grading system or tests. The students apply there for the sake of learning. There were also athletic facilities, a dance room, and a rock climbing/camping area. Pretty cool.

Tried out the rock climbing

Our camp involved six hours of Danish lessons almost everyday. We were given around four hours of free time daily and had a trip to Århus (Ore-hoos), Denmark's second largest city behind Copenhagen, or in Danish, København (Kooben-ow-in).

A view of Århus

Besides the classic touristy crap with pictures, it was great to walk around independently in a city for a few hours. And if someone got lost or was late to the bus, a train could easily be taken back to the school (love the public transportation system). Walking with a friend on the cobblestone roads into random places and following the river that flowed through the city was great.

The school was loaded with 160 students from several countries. I feel glad to say that I met some awesome people and got close with a few, enough to call them friends and hang out with them later. There were some tough parts to go through, but without them, the week wouldn't have been as memorable. I don't regret anything.

I have been going to school for two weeks. It's surprisingly similar to how American high school is, if you ignore calling your teachers by their first names, the swearing, going to the bathroom without asking (and overall more freedom and respect to students), and more. Okay, maybe it's significantly different if you look at it like that, but some students still sleep, browse Facebook, and feel excited about the partying to be done on the weekend.

The popular culture here doesn't dramatically differ from what's in the States, after all it's still the Western world, though that is something to be discussed another day.

Sorry I'm not describing anything in-depth, but it's gonna take a while before that's possible, months even. 

I want to continue seeing what's in this northern, Scandinavian country. And honestly, I don't really have control over what that will be. I just have to do my best with what's there and live the hell out of this year. That's it for tonight.

Top Picture Credit: Nelson L.  

Rising from the Down Days

The airport in Amsterdam was shockingly quiet. It seemed to be devoid of the loud drone one would expect to be bombarded with from the thousands of people rushing throughout the day. The countless voices and footsteps inexplicably amplified the calm ambiance of the airport. Being exhausted might have warped my senses enough look at everything that way.

Shoppers eyed the kiosks and stores, taking in the scents of the perfumes and looking for the best deals. Kids were squealing as their parents wheeled them around on baggage carts. A different language struck one's ear before being overtaken by another. Almost everybody moved in a random yet purposeful fashion. They gave the impression that they knew exactly what to do and when to do it.

I wasn't one of them. After more than thirty hours of waiting and flying, it was extremely difficult to muster any excitement for being hours away from Denmark. An episode of insomnia in the past few days turned the irritation into a seething anger and distress. And when you feel down, it's tempting to start dwelling on the negatives.

I did that for a while. The trip so far had been pretty simple, but in this airport I had several questions that nobody could answer. The worst was when I approached a group of people, hoping at least one person had some useful advice. After hearing my questions, they just smirked and laughed and walked away. Already confused, it hit me hard. Indignant. Fuming. Fists clenched. Pissed off. Any of these words could have described how I felt.

It was the perfect moment for a mental huddle. "Okay, those were some Grade A douche-bags, but it doesn't mean the next person will be. Keep trying." Repeating it helped me focus. Eventually I found some other exchange students and had my concerns addressed. Whew.

Still, my thoughts kept focusing on the douche-bags. I went for a small circuit around the airport and a quick meal. Maybe that'd make it better. At first I trudged past the gates and stores. The weariness was smacking me in the face. Then something sparked.

While in line for some food, someone close by caught my attention. A really beautiful girl. The urge to talk to her motivated me and I tapped her on the shoulder. I said the first thing that came to mind and we began a conversation. She turned out to be from Denmark, and we traded a couple of words in Danish. It wasn't the ideal chat, being jet lagged and looking crappy. Nevertheless it was great to go for it.

I was starting to feeling excited and sociable again. Getting to the front of the line, I messed up my order and didn't understand the cashier's Dutch accent. The guy next to me chuckled about it and I joined him. We then had a small discussion about how restaurants and fast food worked in European airports.

Cool, that wasn't so bad. They were friendly. I actually suggested to the Danish girl that we sit down and continue talking, and she said sure. We settled a place to meet, and I ran out for 30 seconds to check the flight monitor. When I came back, I couldn't locate her in the scramble of various people.

It wasn't a big deal. My attitude was perky from having fun with it all. Later a kind man offered to take my food tray to the trash after giving an enthusiastic greeting in Dutch and English. The weight was slowly being lifted.

Then I recalled the woman I met on the flight to Amsterdam. She was a French speaking nurse from Switzerland who had lived in Brazil and the Philippines for several years each. We went over philosophy, dating, movies, environmentalism, food and more during our time together. We built such a solid rapport that she invited me to stay with her family if I visited her someday.

Experiences like those made it worthwhile to put myself out there despite being in a foul mood or a mundane situation. It can be tough to press on when you're feeling upset, but you gain so much more from challenging yourself to actually get up and do something about it. Anybody can wallow. I often subconsciously seek the easiest and safest route in life, and then my conscious mind kicks in and tells me to stop being a such a weenie. Okay, it's not that simple of a process, more of a daunting undertaking that tests your resilience. You have to acknowledge your crappy feelings as well as that they're not permanent. They'll go away eventually, so it's more beneficial for you to move past them now. My social skills and relationships, with friends and strangers, who sometimes become new friends, have been seriously improved by maintaining that attitude.

Most human beings are sincere and kind. They'll provide what they can for you if you're willing to do the same. It was tough sticking with that thought in Amsterdam because my emotions were aggravating me, but it was the truth and will remain so.

I wanted to post this because it should be a handy tidbit to go back to in the next few months. Some of the days in our lives will suck, so we might as well reduce the suckiness by being more self-aware of ourselves and the world. 

The next post will be about my exchange in Denmark. It's been about six days since arriving there, and some cool stuff deserves to be mentioned. It should be fairly long, or short...whatever length it is, it should be interesting. You have a kinda sorta promise.

Photo Credit: Patrick Emerson