Sundry Quandaries
In my extended absence I have yet again collected a variety of things I've started and eventually stopped writing about. So here I shall finish them, hopefully for your enjoyment and edification, as well as to approach some form of closure and to get these Chronicle vignettes off of my conscience.
--Running--
"In the scheme of all things we are as we do."
I started running. You know, like, exercise.
This is mildly out of character for me for many reasons. First, it is against my profession to go outside in natural sunlight. I already look kinda freakish walking into my programming class with my ridiculous farmer's tan. Granted, most of it is due to my daily commute in high-noon Arizona sun, but for the few minutes I'm gasping for breath in the morning I'm betting that it has some effect on my pigmentation.
It also goes against the teachings of one of my favorite educators, Mr. Mackenzie. He taught me my first year of Spanish, and being one of the oldest, and quietest, and highest scoring kids in the class, he liked me. Either I reminded him of himself, or he was just impressed with how I got my hair to stick up like it did. Ah, hair gel.
Anyhow, one of his favorite sayings was 'Never run, lest chased.' He wasn't much of a fan of exercise either. I took it to heart, and stuck by it for many years.
Until now, of course. Last year my optometrist, of all people, told me I had high blood pressure. Considering I'm on the computer an average of forever hours a day, I wasn't particularly surprised.
At a time I tried doing something about it. My family in Anchorage has a treadmill. I ran on that for, oh, two days. Then my usual habits kicked, punched, and bit themselves back into be aberrant routine and I got to sleep in for another half an hour every morning.
This has happened before, though. I've gone to gyms, worked out, and then just sort of petered out. It never really seemed to catch on because I always had to fight my usual lazy routine. Its always easier just to come home and sit on the computer. Start up Trillian. Tweak idkfa. Check my email. And of late, play World of Warcraft.
So I decided that if I was going to be successful then it would already have to be in my routine. But how do I get it into my routine if all previous attempts have failed?
Simple. Just stop trying.
One morning I woke up, put some shorts on, and walked out the door. I didn't even know where to run to. Well, that isn't exactly accurate. I walked for a while because I thought I'd look foolish if I ran into a cul-de-sac. So I just walked until I hit the canal that borders my neighborhood. I ran up it, nearly died considering I haven't ran any sort of distance in years, walked back home, and felt better about myself.
So now I just keep waking up and doing that.
They say that animal cells thrive in situations of mild stress. That way the weak cells die and can be replaced by new cells.
Makes sense to me.
--Walking--
"Is God's work to have us fail?"
I admit it. I walk funny.
Its been called trundling, shuffling, and just 'weird'. I can't very well describe it, but I feel what people say is true by the strange looks I get walking anywhere. I recognize these 'looks' because they are the same ones I give other oddwalkers, that same sideways glance.
Really, this brief glance is a silent judgement. In a split second we calculate a person by their outward appearance, their stature, their physique, and their movements. We don't realize it, but afterwards we identify people by their gait. At far greater distances than the human eye can identify faces we can identify a person by their 'walk'. Everybody's is distinctive and unique, determined by any number of factors also unique to that person such as the length of your arms, legs, muscle strenghts, or even which muscles you use and which you don't.
Computer scientists the world over are trying to develop a system around this. Imagine, instead of identifying you by your face, a surveillance camera can identify you simply by how you move. Like a fingerprint, but for your whole body.
I, as a human being, think that there's a lot you can tell about somebody by their walk, more than just that it is specifically somebody's. Walking is the execution of thousands of movements, large and small, that enable us to walk upright and be generally mobile. An orchestration, with your subconscious motor skills conducting the symphony. Your puppetmaster psyche pulling the nervous strings on your marrionette skeleton. Nobody really thinks about walking, yet it involves a complex system of balance, timing, and attention to the surrounding terrain.
So then what does your walk say about you?
I really don't know. I don't just sit there and watch people walk by. That's just creepy. Yeah.
But there's definitely something to it. You see someone with quick steps, clenched fists, and a rigid back, and you have to wonder if they're stressed or angry about something. Somebody doesn't move their arms, hunches over, and walks looking down makes me wonder what they're thinking about. Long strides, swinging arms, and a care-free strut? Who knows.
Since I've been told I walk funny I now have to think about walking. Am I swinging my arms too much? Too large of steps? Is my head not bobbing enough? Should my hips follow my legs? Should I sway slighty? Don't stare off into the distance. Don't look down. Stand up straight. Walk faster. Walk slower. Why can't you just walk like everyone else?
So yeah, all the fun of walking has been cruelly ripped away from me. I spend my 15 minute walks to and from class seeing how each person walks differently. Seeing if maybe that's what I do. And maybe I can figure out what I do that's so different from everybody else. And fix it.
Maybe.
--Josh Goes Nuts--
"And I knew the silence of the world"
Start with a math problem.
Given two end points, and a set number of paths you can follow to get from one to the other, there are a limited number of unique paths one can take without backtracking. Eventually, no matter how far away or how many paths, you will always walk the same path.
Now add me.
I do this while walking to the parking lot. Its maybe a mile from anywhere to my car, with a grid of buildings and streets blocking the most direct route.
Now add the world.
Its spring in Arizona, which means every sort of vegetation that blooms is doing so. On a massive scale. The gutters run not with water but with pollen and seeds, wind-forgotten corners with flower petals and buds, and my hair with whatever just fell out of that tree.
Now add wind.
Today was especially windy. And the path taken especially long. I've had something stuck in my eye for a good hour and a half. I would have gotten it out during class, but we were having a graded discussion, so I just sat and twitched and blinked and scratched my cornea for the duration. Luckily the path back to the car has me walking with the wind and not against it.
Now add sleep deprivation.
I'm in a haze. I can't pay attention to anything. I barely notice the girl walking behind me. She says bye to whoever is on her cell phone. She makes another call. I'm worried about driving. The car is acting funny. I can't keep thoughts together. My sentences consist of two objects and a verb. Thank God nobody asked me a question in class. I have circles under my eyes, though I've been getting plenty of sleep. Something is wrong.
Now add beauty.
The road is covered in orange and red flower petals. They are streaming along with the wind, whipping up and then back down as the wind blows them past me.
Now add pain.
Something blows into my eye. It stings like crazy, something probably off of that tree. My eyes are already irritated. I wish I had sunglasses so people couldn't see me closing my eyes as I walk down the road. And maybe to protect me from windy days.
Now add irony.
"Hey, are you awake?" the girl asks into her cell phone. I don't hear anything else she says for the rest of the walk.
And that's it. The perfect recipe for wondering what God wants from you.
--
There you have it. I promised this would be up by 10pm. Now its five after. Looks like I won't be proofreading this one...
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