Thoughts of a Younger Me

I have great self esteem, and I'm very humble. When I think of myself, it is not with loathing, anger, indifference, or sympathy, but positive on the whole. Yes, constructive criticism and general fine tuning is always a fine motivator, but overall, I am content with myself.

And therein lies the difference of maturity between the James of seven years ago, and the slightly heavier and balder James of today. In the past two weeks, Rebecca and I have been talking about aspirations, hopes, and dreams. Unfortunately, I had relatively little to contribute to the pocket-full-'o-dreams. I am married to a smoking hottie, I have two and a half children, and I have a job that I'm quite content in. Yes, content would be a word that sums it up nicely. Do some days bleed into weeks and months of monotony? Occasionally, yes. And here comes the insight of a seven-year-younger James, circa April 2007.

"I don't want to be the guy with no ambitions, dreams and hopes come 20 years. I don't want to get into a routine that I follow in a mindless matter until Christmas and whenever I choose to take my two weeks vacation. I want to be on the move, always exploring, and never settling for sitting on a couch watching T.V. before I dread another day of work after my 6 or so hours of restless sleep. In summary, I don't want my life to suck.....so help me, if my lives dives down into a rut like the described above, then hit me in the groin with a sledgehammer and send me on a plane somewhere. Just some thoughts."- From Retrimentalism of Isomatrictical Eppigymes, April 28, 2007

Now, let's set a few things straight, younger James. There is nothing wrong about cuddling on the couch for the fourth night in a row to watch Tim Riggins cruise into the end zone to bring the Dillon Panthers to the state championship. Nothing. Wrong. Secondly, you will come to realize that a life with kids is not the humdrum kill joy that occasionally is portrayed in various media forms. Do they pee on the carpet? Yes. Have you had more than two consecutive nights of over eight hours of sleep in the past few years? Define consecutive. Does the lifestyle of a young parent lend itself to monotony of necessary routine? Absolutely. Is it unsatisfying enough to merit being hit in the groin with a sledgehammer? I certainly hope not (for my current self, and your future self). 

I think what I'm trying to portray is that a message of sacrifice for other (tiny) people, while seemingly "sucky", is in a deeper way, more fulfilling and richer than one of relatively limitless dreams and potential for oneself. Now, please, do not misunderstand that ambitions and dreams are wonderful, but the framework of said dreams is important.

Example: I could dream to be the best floor sweeper the world has ever seen. But to whose benefit is my sacrifice? Yes, the owners of a previous messy floor, potentially. But it really comes down to having the badge of "World Champ Sweeper" hanging off my left breast pocket that motivates me. And the world does need good sweepers.

But the false assumption of having to put dreams and ambitions on the back burner when raising a young family is simply wrong, though the dreams are not always clear and can become fuzzy as the years pass.

My ambitions, goals, and hopes are for my children to know they have loving parents that will encourage, discipline, and love them regardless if they poop on the toilet or not. My hopes are for my children to feel loved enough to get back up after they've fallen down. My ambition is to encourage my kids to explore the world that so marveled me when I was young, and still intrigues me today. I desire them to know their God, to love his world, and to pursue a life that is pleasing to him as I struggle to do the same as their father. And yes, I would like to have a mug on my desk that says "Worlds Best Dad" (if not simply for the novelty), but more so because I need a dedicated coffee mug. But, ultimately, I want to see my children thrive in this incredible world that we live in.

So, younger, thinner, fuller-haired James, your desires for goals and adventures are not unnatural. But they have shifted, and I hope the contentment that you have now is a litmus test to show that the shift has been for the best, and does not merit a swinging sledge into ones nether regions. 

Pooh and his Hunny

In the cinematic epic "Winnie the Pooh" (2011), the protagonist, Pooh, urgently searches for some honey based on the absolute truth that "a Pooh-bear takes care of his tummy/ by never forgetting to eat". This seemingly insignificant chorus rings true with me. The best way to solve simple problems is by using the simplest solution.

Example: James, whilst sorting and recycling lonely plastic plant containers, clumsily smashes his middle finger in the adjacent recycling machine. The simple problem of crimson seeping out of his work gloves is solved by a visit to the first aid kit.

Example the second: James, whilst cheering his son on as he pees around the toilet, now has a mess to clean up. Now, for those who do not care to interact with urine in such a forward way, might suggest that this scenario has no easy solution. I, however, have little precaution, and simply wiped it up. Problem solved.

If you haven't watched the Winnie the Pooh movie, I encourage you to. Its clever writing and innocent humor is quite enchanting. I even find myself singing the songs while my back spasms to the beat. The pleasure of the movie is in its innocence; a simple problem of needing to eat or finding a tail is wrapped up neatly in 60 minutes.

In R.C. Sproul's "Can I Know God's Will" (free!), Sproul brings forward a problem that has no easy answer to it: original sin. In the book, a chapter is devoted to 'why' Adam and Eve sinned, and how there is no easy answer to the problem. Sproul and many other theologians have humbly described motive for original sin as mystery.

However, I find it very encouraging that the answer of how to deal with sin is surprisingly simple (yet profoundly deep) in Christ. The central Gospel message of a sin-sick people in need of an adequate Saviour can be grasped by a four year old, but can occupy a theologian for a lifetime. Incredible.

And I find it fantastic that midst the chaos of life, of tough choices, difficult situations, pee on the floor, or a rumbling tummy, Christ is calling people to recognize that he can carry our burdens and forgive our sins.

Work

I had a revelation last week, but I'll have to give the context in a lengthy ramble.

I finished school in April and I now am (apparently) a certified teacher. Upon reflection, the year was largely a waste, save  but the three months of placement in various high schools around the Niagara region and the piece of paper with my name printed on it. While my dearest wife did warn me before the program started that the year would be full of dull, uninspiring busy-work, I decided to remain optimistic like a hungry child anticipating red bean paste. The initial weeks satisfied the scholastic hunger, while the remaining six months were spoonful after awful spoonful of cynicism, uninspiring professors, and common sense dished out in the form of various two hour classes.

But when that finished, Autumn was no where to be seen, and my role of being a Grade 7 teacher had yet to begin. Thus I found myself in the awkward in between stage of summer work. I started to work for my father-in-law digging trees at his business, and successfully pulled out my back within three days of working. Apparently I have I herniated disc, which, when agitated, give me permission to spasm about at random. As a side note, when playing basketball, I defend in a position similar to figure Figure 1 below (sans cane), resulting in the affectionate nick name of "Old Man James".


Figure 1: Old Man Back

So, with my disappointing performance on the digging crew, I was promoted to listen to Latin polka music while performing back-friendly tasks with a group of Mexican workers. It's good. I'm learning more Spanish, and I'm able to feed my family. Chalk two up for the senior.

All this to say, work is satisfying (the revelation alluded to in the first sentence). Although my plans are not to make a career as a Latin gardener, there is something deeply satisfying and enjoyable about putting in a good day working with your hands.

If anyone has experienced being unemployed, or at least having little to do for multiple weeks, a restlessness sets in, as the enjoyment of leisure once looked forward to now becomes a tired activity that neither brings rest nor joy. Instead, it breeds discontent that only meaningful work can satisfy. As as a Latin gardener, I feel tired, but satisfied. Ask me in a couple months however, and we'll see how I'm doing.

Dem's Be Children, Agnes

I have two children. That is slightly more than one, but definitely less than three. Let me digress.

Jesse: Also known as "The Guinea Pig" for Rebecca and I. He's two now, and it's tricky to remember what he was like as an infant. I can catch glimpses in my mind of first baths, steps, and bloody lips, but most of my grasp of Jesse rests in his present state. He is a talking, laughing, crying, juice-drinking, outdoor loving, male incarnation of Rebecca. He seems to be completely different from me, but in all the most entertaining ways. He is a total boss.

Anneliese: Also known as "baby", as Jesse has a hard time pronouncing her name. She's my little girl, and not in the overly-sappy "let's get a picture frame for father's day" kind of way, but more of a "she's my first daughter" kind of way. Slightly different. She is the opposite of what I remember Jesse being as baby. She's quiet, content, and loves snuggles. And while the thought of putting her to bed causes me as much anxiety as hearing our car making funny noises, she is my little girl.

Let me contrast two types of non-present thinking, both which involve a double portion of ego with a pinch of humble pie. The first is the reflection of past athletic feats, such as the certain plays that you have completed that you were particularly fond of. One such scenario that comes to mind for myself was a turnaround fade-away in a playoff match in high school. While not game changing, that play has stuck with me as a proficient measure of my skill at the time. However, I own a copy of the game tape with that play, and upon review all I saw was a shaggy teenager who's awkward shot somehow found the basket. Humbling to say the least.

The second type of thinking is a future anticipation of certain skills that you expect to have. For example, you might consider yourself an expert knitter after having watched all the YouTube episodes from the "Nietzsche Knitters" (a surprisingly critical series of videos). However, when the time comes to put those knitting needles to work, your skills do not equal your apparent knowledge, and reassessment of your abilities comes into play.

I'm sure that as a parent, the impressive feats of Jesse's infant days were nothing more than a clumsy parent getting lucky with their kids behaving well. And likewise, my skills of parenting have nothing to do with whatever knowledge I think I possess, as what really matters is how well you act in the present.

I think I have a fear of being a lame adult because I have kids and most of my days have a very similar pattern. That is the motivation for reviving these pages. I don't want my mind to go to mush, only to be squished into a mold of thirty-somethings trying to balance marriage, family and faith. I want to be able to reflect, look ahead, and enjoy the present, all while writing with proper grammar, punctuation and spelling. Here's hoping.

Our Next Steps

I'll be going to Quito, Ecuador for the next 2 1/2 months with my wonderful family to volunteer with the local church. To follow our adventure, check out "harskampsinecuador.blogspot.com".

That is all.

James

Christmas in July

The day is May 3. I've finished giving the 'low-down' of my research to a bunch of people in San Diego, and I've got a slight red tinge on my body after taking advantage of a break by sitting poolside in 30 degree weather. Who would have though science had such benefits. Overall,the week away from home so far has gone fast, but I do miss being home. Despite the quality of location, it's still the people who make the time enjoyable.

As a finisher, my last slide of the presentation which gave a shout-out to Jesse. He's the man.

A Shameless Plug

I feel/hope there are a few things that I have or I will really give my all to. There are some other things that I'm perfectly happy to give only a portion of my energy towards. One such example is sports. The Grizzlies ceased to be a part of my life when they left for greener pastures in Memphis in 2001. It was then that I stopped following basketball. Then the sweet, sweet Canucks took my attention and I've been a 65% fan of them ever since. 65% you say? Why, yes, that's what I call a fan who only knows 65% of the players on the team, which is a fine foundation. Ohlund's still playing, right? Don't even ask me about the rest of the NHL.

Music is the same way. I have preference of the type of music I listen to. I respect people like my brother Josh who can listen and appreciate a wide variety of music, but just like my 'Nucks, I stick to what I know. And here's what I know: I like chill, folky music. Here's another thing I know: my buddy Tim's band makes that type of music. Despite having the moral obligation of supporting my friends, it is sure easier to do so when they've got talent in that particular field.

The band's name is Bruekke, and they just released a 3 song album that you can stream fully here. They've got something going on, and the other half a dozen songs I've heard in their concerts only reassure my liking of their music. So, why not give them a listen and show a little support? Heck, if you even like it, buy the album for 3 bucks.

Here's a clip of song from a phone.