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.

Tigers

80%. No, that's not the humidity outside right now, but rather the portion of the day I've spent asleep over the past 48 hours. Rebecca and I caught the stomach flu which tickled our bellies in such a way so that putting our faces in a toilet sounded like a good idea. But, after two days and one solid meal later, we're both feeling better.

They say that the first 20 years of your life feel just as long as the last 60. I believe it. I remember how the 8 weeks of summer back in middle school felt so long, while now 8 weeks zip by so fast so that you actually have to take a moment and think about what happened in those two months. And I feel I've barely breached the cusp of that time waterfall. I wonder what the current will look like after having one more person in my life reminding me that I'm not the only person that matters in my life. Bring it, y'all.

I guess to finish this thought nugget off, I'll share something that I thought was not only visually stimulating, but massaged the brain as well.

Groceries

Rebecca and I have been fighting a cold lately, and after being inside all of today, I needed to get out. I guess you could say I was feeling restless, but it would probably be better described as spiritually bloated - I needed less to get outside and more to clear my head.

I walked to the grocery store, and slowly at that. I was in no rush, and nothing in me wanted to be. It was probably -10, but I was bundled up, trying to relieve the gas in my soul. The food isles helped me do that. I picked up a flyer and immediately saw something I knew I wanted to get. I was under no illusion that we were stocked up on this item in the house. I'm also aware that we don't go through the stuff particularly fast, yet there was something deeply satisfying - soothing, even - about purchasing those 400 grams of bulk hot chocolate powder.

I also went to the junk food isle and perused the chip section. Only Lays had the salt and vinegar chips, but when I picked up the bag and pressed my thumb against the bag to feel the contents, I realized two things: first, that I wasn't going to spend 3 bucks on a bag of chips that's only a third full, and second, that spiritually I've been spending those 3 dollars for the past few months. When dollars and chips are put tangibly in front of you, I suppose the lesson is far clearer: why buy a bag of junk that is mostly filled with air? Don't get me wrong, I love my salt and vinegar, but spending money on air is foolish. Spiritually I've come to realize it's no different with how I spend my time. As humans, we are attracted to things that can steal our time. I, for one, tend to be drawn to aliens blowing each other up on my computer screen. However, while desecrating an ultralisk with a fully charged void ray is not a bad thing in and of itself, it can be something that steals our worship. And, if we really look at ourselves, we know that we always need to worship someone or something.

Lately the choice to throw the bag of chips in the cart hasn't been thought about, until the gut rot hits, or the realization that once the bag is open there is far less there then hoped for. Maybe that's why the bulk hot chocolate was so appealing. I saw, felt, and weighed in all 400 g of it. It was satisfying to know what I was getting. And spiritually, I need to invest in the activities I know are fulfilling. I need to start having a lot more hot chocolate.

Fatherhood

In three months I'll have my life change forever. Thankfully it's a change that I've known about for about 6 months now, so I feel mentally ready for it. But, even with the heads up, the thought of being a father is very intimidating, especially being the father of a little boy. How can I, who once was boy (and has bouts of boyhood when I stub my toe and pout) raise this little gaffer in the Lord? How can I instruct him to be kind, gentle, but manly with a backbone? I suppose its best for me to figure those things out first before imposing, but if I've gained anything from education, it would be that learning seems to naturally happen in parallel with other people.

Considering this kid's birth date is set for the ever popular April 1, the day of trickery where malice can be spread in the name of good fun, I've thought of 2, nay, 3 tricks to play on the child, which could determine how he psychologically develops. Well just have to see.

1) Convince him that he can teleport in his sleep. Let's face it, we've all wanted to be able to teleport. Is it really that wrong to give the child a hope that he can? This can be executed quite simply by quietly moving him in his sleep to the garage, kitchen, bathroom, etc., then let him wake up in the morning wondering where he is. After a few nights, "teleport" him to a place where you are, and promptly wake him up, acting excited that he "just" appeared. Finally, let him brag to all his friends of his new found ability.

2) Convince him that there is an invisible member in the family. A child will likely make his own invisible friend regardless of this experiment, so no harm will be done. This of course would need the cooperation of your spouse, but once she is on board the execution is simple. You would just include the extra family member in all your activities, set a plate for them at dinner, and make sure not to sit on him when longing on the couch. Conversation would be a little one sided, but this could just be an exercise to help you think quick on your feet, while possible building up empathy by imagining what this individual feels. Heck, this would probably benefit the kid.

3) Convince him that you and your wife are mentally connected. You can read her thoughts, and she can read yours. Start by breaking out in laughter at random while shooting a knowing smile at your wife, gaily saying "Good one, sweetheart. That was a very clever joke". If the child implores you to explain your special bond, just say that all mommies and daddies have the ability. You can even let your other married friends in on the fun and have them for dinner, allowing only laughing or "mmmhmmm-ing" to occasionally break the silence.

Alas, I'm not a cruel person, but it's possible I can raise my child to be one.

December

It gets dark before 5 now. It's a little sad, but I suppose that makes the candles and Christmas lights in our apartment seem pleasant.

I hope you are all enjoying/persevering this next stretch to Christmas break. I know I will be.

Cheers.

My Brain Is Going To Inflate!

It's a Friday afternoon, and although there's a paper about borate transport in plants I should be reading, I can't muster the motivation or the focus to get such feats done. Yes, the gentle feeling of a Friday afternoon, where its soft velvet cushions and gentle elevator music whispers, "it can wait until Monday". Responsible? Probably not. Enticing? Definitely.

It's three weeks until Christmas. Wait, no...that's not right at all. It has to be at least 4 weeks. But it feels like three weeks, and for that I'm grateful. This weekend will most likely see our apartment decorated with the most festive of things: soft white lights around windows, green organic material around banisters, and most soothing of all, hot apple cider. I'm wondering if it's worth it to bring up the argument of "fake vs. real" for the Christmas tree, as I recall a similar argument about 7 years back when my parents made the switch to synthetic. I can see the draw of it. But, the good husband that I am, I feel the real scent of pine (is that what Christmas tree's are?) will be lingering in our nostrils this holiday season.

This will be my first Christmas away from BC, but thankfully it won't be the first Christmas away from family.

Look Into The Old Apartment

This is where we used to presently live.

I find place to be an interesting concept. For the majority of my life, I was brought up in the place of Surrey. After leaving the nest, place transformed into a dirty dorm and has finally (or should I say currently) taken the form of my apartment with my wife.

For a fraction of a second today I heard a sound that reminded me of the garage door opening at my parents home. That sound was the key which allowed a parade of soothing thought monsters (Figure 1) to bombard my head and heart with flombloozers (Figure 2), causing me to think of the comfort of BC.

Figure 1: Thought Monsters.

Figure 2: A yellow flombloozer.

However, an exciting part of place is the opportunity to harvest the sounds, smells, objects and process them into memories which will inevitably be dug up years later by those marauding thought monsters. I'm sure this small bachelor pad will play a large role in how we remember our first year of marriage. After all, memories need to be contained in the glass jars of place, else the memories quickly seep away into the dry ground of time, erasing the original context.

Side Note: The other day I saw a poster at McMaster for a presentation whose purpose was to present research looking at the evolutionary relationship between the human responses of crying and laughing. Why would you want to take two genuine and fine woven human responses and try to reduce them into a neatly packed explanation. I wonder if the presenter just didn't like laughing and wanted to do away with the joy of it by explaining it with naturalistic causes.

Back On Track: I feel like I'm in a good place right now. I've got the container, now I just need to fill it.

Raindrops

This summer has been a weather delight. I'm a fairly temperate person, which extends to my preference for weather. Mainly the two things that get me uncomfortable is excessive heat and excessive humidity. My first summer in Ontario had a not-so-pleasant mix of both which you could liken to an irritable child and a can of paint. This summer, however, has been cool. Yes, maybe not as hot as it could be as beach days have been limited, but at least I can sleep at night with a blanket. For that I'm thankful.

Work has been great. Majority of work for me today involved a hot glue gun, straws, a sheet of mesh, and a creative side of my brain that I feel hasn't been activated since my days doing crafts in Sunday school. The only thing that could have topped the day would be if glitter wouldn't interfere with the experiment. Pretty much I needed to make floating cells which can be used to harness and harvest floating plants for an experiment I plan to run. With much brainstorming and two prototypes, a successful structure was found. The rest of the day involved me making four of these contraptions while listening to Ravi Zacharias and Tim Keller. Possibly my best day of work yet.

I may have lied about my creative side being dusted off in the description above. Truth be told, it's been slowly awaking for the past twenty or so days like a bear in spring. At work we have a birthday countdown for whoever's birthday is next in the lab. For the past twenty days, I've been doing the countdown, starting with general numbers. However, since then I've been doing animals in the shape of numbers. For the first five or so days, this mostly consisted of eels, snakes, and worms - the gentle stirring of my creative self. For the past week and a bit, the snakes have all but disappeared, leaving mice in the shape of sixes, eagles in the shape of threes, puffer fish as spikey zeroes, and best of all, a hygienic flamingo in the shape of a four. Oh, the creative mind.

I'm getting married in less that 30 days. I've been alive for far longer than 30 days, so in perspective, this period is relatively short. I'm very much looking forward to it.

Dusting Off A Thought Dumpster

Too long? Perhaps. I suppose there is a season for everything. I mean, some people never write down their thoughts, dreams, quirky anecdotes, or obscure stories. I figure a five month hiatus isn't the end of the world.

I've found learning is a slow process. Some parts of it are quick, like learning not to touch a hot stove, or possibly not to strike cow when standing behind it. However, most pieces of wisdom seem to seep into who you are, festering themselves without your knowledge until one day they infest your brain, causing a eureka moment. Though, the moment doesn't always need to be spontaneous, as much as it can be a reflection. My heavy breathing after climbing one flight of stairs could be an oversize arrow pointing towards the gym, which can easily be mitigated by the use of an elevator. Only when the elevator is broken does the lesson reappear.

Quite frankly, I don't want to do a summary of how I've been over the past five months, nor is it my desire to look forward to contemplate how much my world will change in a couple of months. However, the present is a good place to start.

I'm satisfied right now. I'm content. I'd imagine the feeling I have right now compares to that of a full grown hungry panda who had just finished eating a mountain of bamboo. Now, although my satisfaction goes quite beyond that of feeling full, but if there is anyway to transmutate that physical fullness to that of a "wellness" fullness, then I suppose that would be the best description of my satisfaction.

Work is good. Friends are good. Fiance's are good. I'm healthy. I have little stress.

Granted, I hope my contentment isn't grounded in the above five circumstances, as we all know those things are not static, but instead are plastic and can change as quickly as a streaker after a run though a bingo hall on seniors night.

That is all.

Too Much To Chew On

Mondays are my busy day. I have ~ 9 hours of class, and I end off the day with a three hour philosophy night class. I've enjoyed the variation of my classes this semester. It's been nice to have a philosophy and a psych class to break up my sciences. The philosophy course I'm taking is an elective; something I've chosen as a free "no-strings-attached" course. However, taking a philosophy is like sitting in the hot tub. It's nice to do it for 10 or 15 minute sessions, but three hours of it will make you feel exhausted and uncomfortable. Last night in philosophy, albeit the great content, I longed to hit the showers of the skating rink, or possibly, if I needed to stay in the aquatic center, to at least dip my toes into the refreshing pool of science. I feel like the hot tub is important, but bite size time slots fit me best.

I kind of feel like Calvin coming home from school. I know Hobbes is going to jump me, but the suspense keeps me jittery. I'm fairly busy, but not as busy as I know I will be. I'm just waiting for my assignments to drop kick me when I'm not paying attention.

I suppose I'll leave you with these three options.

If you could fly, would you do so with:
a) Wings (think birds)
b) Some sort of jet pack
c) Nothing at all (kind of like superman)
d) I wouldn't want to fly

So This is the New Year

Greetings.

I'll spare you the "I can't believe how fast time flies by" act, and dive right into this sea of text.

I've had a great month so far. It started off with a memorable night in the pub with Stewie, Bron, and Dan, then continued over the next few days with more conversation, coffees and ice caps. Then came the plane ride in which I encountered (I imagine) the pain experienced by someone giving birth from their forehead. That is to say, the changing cabin pressure due to landing made me think my head was going to explode because of my sinus infection. It wasn't that pleasant. What was pleasant, however, was the sight of Rebecca and Janelle waiting to pick me up in Toronto at 2 am. What troopers.

I'm happy to announce that Rebecca and I are getting married. I am thrilled. Too thrilled for words. Possibly even too thrilled for calligraphy.

Since then, I've been balancing school, research symposiums, and wedding planning while making time for community. I should have put an asterisks behind "wedding planning", however, as Mrs. Sikkema is so on her game that I don't think we've felt an ounce of stress over bookings or reservations. A big thanks goes out to her.

I went to Quebec to present some research these past couple of days. It was really good. It was kind of interesting to be in a room with other students and professors discussing research. It definitely put me at ease to hear some of the trends and questions that arise from research.

I swam in the pool and sat in the hot tub when not discussing research. It was pleasant.

And now what to say? My courses are great. My courses are challenging. My courses are coming to an end as I finish up my last semester of my undergrad and move into the foggy corn field of my future, only knowing that I'll have the hand of Rebecca to hold onto as I venture forth into that moist sea of grain.

However, through it all, one truth stands out, like Vlade Divac standing in a busy street in Bejing: God is good.

I hope to keep this up.

November Loving

It's that last push of this semester, and instead of doing work that I should be doing, I am running around the house trying to steal Tim's yogurt. He stopped me and hit me with a banana. Baaah-na-na!

Tim and Ree are currently preparing for a presentation behind me, while I'm trying to distract them. Their focus is far greater than mine, as I even lost focus trying to distract them. So crazy.

I'm so close to being all done my second last semester at Redeemer. I can't wait to be home. I don't know why, but the thought of having a hot shower in the cold bathroom of my home is just on my mind.
____

The man stopped just short of the cedar door. He stood there, wondering if he should grasp the chilled metal of the handle, allowing him to go inside, safe from the cold night that was outside. Instead, he couldn't collect himself to face what was awaiting him . He turned around, and took the few concrete steps down to the drive way and hopped in his Toyota and rested his head on the steering wheel. The horn sounded accidentally, which caused him to jolt his head up. Looking around to see that no one was around to hear the horn, he started his car and stealthed out of the driveway, heading towards the nearest McDonalds. Only a cheeseburger could comfort him now. It's slick patties sandwiched between the finest cheese, lettuce and bun enticed him. The cheeseburger was his only friend now. If only it could respond to all the problems that he often poured over it in his pre-eating ritual. The end was always the same; a half eaten cheeseburger left on the tray as he ran to the bathroom to vomit and morn the loss of his newest friend. He would then go back to the door one more time, then sleep on the lawn of his brothers house just down the road.

_____

I guess I'll see you guys in a month. Ta ta.

What To Do?

I thought I'd sneak in a little something before we see October coming to an end. I mean, it's been a while, that's all. I'm currently refusing to do work at the moment, most likely originating from a small gnome in my liver squeezing it in such a way that my mind can't focus on biochem. A few momentous events occurred in the past month and a half. First, I learned not to despise the theology professor that I had in first year. I currently have him for my Reformation Theology class, and although I hate to admit it, it's not the armpit of academia that I expected it to be. Not only that, but I've learned a bit more about the reformed faith I once left and now am becoming more acquainted with. Am I sold by every idea of the reformation and Calvinism? No, at least, not yet. Although I'm quite drawn to an intellectual side of faith.

The house is going great. It's everything you think a guys house wouldn't be. Let me explain. Although there are 7 of us living here, there is little mess. Granted, like the spring flowers, things can bloom in the fridge once in a while, but generally external mess is kept to a minimum. Since the house is clean, it leaves space open for possible decorating. So what do you do with an open decoration-potential space? Well, you can decorate it. Simple things people. The dollar store works wonders for class if you only but let it. A rug here, a candle here, and a picture of the Queen over there goes a long way to making the house a home. It's not the most matching place on the block, but it sure is cozy. There's also room in the fridge-freezer for my bread. I like that. Going down to the basement is a pain. No pun intended. Comment if you understand that one, I'd be impressed. School is enjoyable and busy at times. However, I find that this year has had the best balance out of any year so far, and I sure hope that it remains that way.

I hope you are all well.

House-tacular

Hello.

All is well. The move into our house last Sunday proved to be smooth, yet disappointing. Our landlord lived in our house and when we got it, it was a mess and nothing was fixed like it should have been. We contacted the people at the church from who we rent, and arranged our new landlord. She's great, and most of the problems are fixed. This is less stressful indeed. Other than that, school is going well. I really don't have much to say. Maybe in a while I will.

This Made Me Smile

Penguins Coming Out the Door

This made me happy.