11. Nostalgia

Sometimes I wish you could replay life, but despite my good memory of people, elements, and sounds, the moment won't ever be recreated. Too bad, because there were some nights that were just so good. Late nights in Farley or the Alpine House, when we college students could stay up late and suffer minimal consequences. We could spend the entire day together, then again the next day.

I walked into my living room a couple hours ago to find a number of students jamming. The live music is pleasant, the harmonies so good, but at the same time, I feel like I'm watching other people create these memories for their own lives. These are the nights they will look back on: jamming after large group, finding chords and playing songs as they please. Sometimes worship songs, sometimes goofing off to old school hits. Sometimes making up things that just sound good: Jesse says he has no idea what he's playing, but his guitar picking is right along with Garrett's piano chords.

I'm sitting right here, and it's relaxing and good. But nostalgia is what it triggers: memories of friends near and far, nights when I distinctly remember being so glad to be alive, so grateful to know the people around me. But now they're miles and miles away, further from the living rooms we loved in Stockton but closer to who God has made us to be.

Not that I don't like where I am now, but how do you move to different life stages? How do you simultaneously recognize what was good but also let it go to fully love the next chapter? Will it always sadden you that that specific combination of people at that night in that place with that music will never be recreated?

10. On Dreams

Inspired by a friend.

A few nights ago, I dreamed it was time to leave for Urbana. A group of us were standing at a transit station, when one of our group members realized she had forgotten something. Since we had to wait for her, I asked to go back to grab something from my apartment as well. As I biked (I don't have a bike in real life) back to my apartment building (I live in a condo in real life), I realized I had forgotten to pack my winter jacket. Like, the thick snowboarding one I bought specifically for Urbana three years ago. And when I got into my apartment, I also discovered I hadn't even packed my standard cold-weather coat. In my dream I felt the sense of urgency from delaying our traveling team, the shame of being ill-prepared and forgetful, and the pressure of needing to run through a packing list again because clearly, I had missed a number of things the first time around.

I remember my dreams maybe once a week or so, and more often than not, they are close enough to normal that I dismiss them. The ones that remain in my memory fall into the categories of the strange, the good, or the uncomfortable. The latter category leaves me shaken up when I awake, wondering where the dream came from, particularly if all are dreams have roots or traces of our reality or subconscious. These are dreams of things that are shameful or wrong, like the wrong person putting his arms around me and saying it's okay when I know it's not. The strange dreams tend to be just the wrong people in the wrong places doing something random, and I usually don't remember them till halfway through the following day when something triggers my memory. Like when my friend's wife Jenn was giving my former roommate Della and I marriage advice--Huh? The three of us have never talked about relationships together. My interest is piqued and I'm amused, but that's about it.

Then there are the good dreams, of which I don't have many and with specifics I can't recall. But the traces I remember include the streets of Malaysia and celebrations with friends. I think that's most of it.

My brother Anthony always, always dreams about being a superhero and fighting bad guys. If you know him, you're not surprised. An X-Men fanatic, he reads comic books, draws the characters, excitedly explains superpowers and their consequences. His background in martial arts and the numerous fight scenes he's replayed over and over again makes combat in his dreams really not hard to believe. It took me awhile to realize that the consistency of these dreams is pretty abnormal, and now I smile to think of it.

On an amusing note, in the numerous times I've shared a room or slept over with my best friend, she has stories of me talking about to-do lists or using my planning voice in my sleep. That makes sense. But what of these other dreams? More often than not, the dreams I recall leave me in discomfort or insecure, off-kilter at best. If anything, I suppose in my sleep, the rest that happens ends up unwinding things that maybe? I should pay attention to. Like my just-kidding-but-no-seriously fears of being late, unprepared, or unqualified for Urbana.  

9. In the Kitchen

My first distinct memory of helping out in the kitchen was somewhere in middle school. Mom called home while she was out getting groceries and asked me to chop garlic so it’d be ready by the time she got home. After several attempts of trying to chop apart the cloves, our friend who was playing at our house that afternoon stepped in and showed me how peeling apart the outside layers let you get to the cloves inside. It wasn’t till a few more times of being assigned this task that my mom showed me how to crush the cloves under a wide blade to make the cloves easily to peel.

I’m grateful that my mom made me help out in the kitchen all through high school, and I picked up most of my experience there. Onions and garlic go in first for their aroma. Use a mixture of cornstarch and water to thicken the sauce in stir fried vegetables. Put in these vegetables first, these last because of how quickly they cook. Add flour to thicken the ground meat to for chicken burgers. Add more sesame oil for the meatballs for hot pot.

Still, I don’t remember when I actually started to enjoy cooking. I didn’t do much of it the first year I moved off campus. Too busy with a full load of engineering classes and leading small group, I must have heated up a lot of frozen foods, ate a lot of pasta with pre-made sauces, and probably grabbed McDonald’s or Subway on more than I’d like to admit. I first remember being real proud of a full home-cooked meal the following year after I moved to the Yellow House and started working for co-op. Among the list of cooking adventures: shopping at farmer’s market, finally going to the Chinese supermarket, and accomplishing some staples like sweet and sour chicken or kuey teow tung (my favorite noodle soup, though never made with the complex flavors of the genuine Malaysian version).

I recently realized that part of my motivation for cooking is necessity. Not just the need-to-survive and living-on-a-budget necessity. But learning to make the dishes I love at home is necessary so I can enjoy, well, the foods I like in life. Malaysian food is way too expensive, and as much as we go to Banana Leaf, we can never order everything we want (nor really afford to go all the time!). And at some point I’m going to want to eat the sour flavors of asam fish or hot curry chicken while I’m weeks away from my next visit home. So that’s motivating the slow exploration, though I must admit it’s disappointing to make a whole dish that, while tasty, doesn’t taste quite right. I’m reminding myself that my mom and the chefs have had years and years of practice, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I wish I was eating my mom’s asam fish tonight other than my own…

8. Autumn walk

I walked around campus for the first time in what feels like a month. I was sad that I had put off a long walk for so long, as most of the vibrant reds, oranges, and greens have passed onto the grayish faded yellow. Most of them, except for the few pockets of campus with bright yellow leaves that have carpeted the lawn. I scuffled my way through some of them and noticed how thick the layer of yellow was. I saw a couple laying down in one of them, casually scattering leaves on each other. It's been awhile since I've rolled around in autumn leaves.

The ceramics sale I stopped by reminded me of my former roommate and good friend Lauren, who has helped me appreciate sculptures and pottery through the numerous explanations she gave and pieces she showed. I mentally guessed at how glazes were dipped or double-dipped, thought about what makes the pieces glossy or not, and imagined the inspiration and brushstrokes added onto the pieces. And I wished that I had more people on my Christmas list who would appreciate ceramic pieces so I would have an excuse to pick up more than the one leaf-shaped plate that I brought home.

I'm also really tired for some reason, so I'm going to end this now with another picture. Consider it a bonus to you and a treat for myself, as its been too long since my camera has gotten some air! On tomorrow's to-do list is finally taking a picture of the tree outside our apartment. Hopefully the red-orange-green colors hold out another day. If not, I'm kicking myself for putting this off for so long!

7. Present

This morning I finally and fully unpacked. I've been out of town for the past five weekends and chose to not bother with putting away my suitcase in that time. But this time, I'm done, though technically I'm out this Friday night and Saturday, but whatever.

In some ways it feels like a reset. I knew I hadn't spent a Sunday in Sacramento for a long time, thus haven't attended church for that duration as well. But it took a weekend in Stockton and talking with some old friends to remind myself of what I'm missing by not having a home church. I forgot that this takes intention and going out of the way to be back in town, that I have to say no to some things elsewhere to say yes to what's going on here.

I'm here, Sacramento. I'll run a half marathon here next spring, not only because it's cheaper and flatter than in San Francisco, but because the American River is part of this new home. I want to love your downtown and midtown and the various neighborhoods. Present--I want to be present here. I'll always love the Bay and Stockton has a piece of my heart, but I believe in fully living where I am. Right now you are home because of my address and where all my stuff is. You are home because I have my own room and I can rest. But one day I hope you'll be home because I'll have things to share about you, things I love about you. I hope I can choose from places I love and not just the few places I love. 

You already have bonus points for the American River, the marina, and the gorgeous colored leaves in my favorite season of the year. You have plenty of ultimate frisbee, an active running club, and swing dancing. You have cute bistros and restaurants downtown and lots of parks. Sure, you have your rough parts and sketchy neighborhoods, and maybe in the future I can testify that I can see goodness and God's work there (but for now I can only say that in faith). Regardless, good or bad, I just need time to be here.

6. Christmas in the Park

(It's less than a week into this project and I already missed a day! In my defense, yesterday was a long back-to-back day...)

Darrell and I visited Christmas in the Park yesterday, an old downtown San Jose tradition full of decorated trees and animated booths. I remember going a few times as a little kid, and there's even pictures of my siblings and me in those stick-your-face-in-the-hole displays. It wasn't an annual thing, but it's part of our memories. Years later, we frequented the park as returning college students looking for something to do. One year, we went on the closing day, when the decorations were gone from the trees and most of the lights were off. We ran into some workers from the carnival rides and booths who wished us Happy Holidays with free caramel apples (because they wouldn't be able to sell them after).

Last year was supposed to be the tradition's last year, with funding losses and whatever else the bad economy or changing interests brings. But somehow they made it happen again, and perhaps its potential disappearance made me grateful it was there. Grateful enough to throw coins at a reindeer display collecting donations (it wished me a Merry Christmas when I made it into its mouth!), smile at the high school volunteers, and read the signs of the foundations, charities, and local organizations that decorated the trees in the community forest.

Not to say that Christmas is all about the lights and snowflakes, but I have to admit that one of my favorite things about the holidays is the atmosphere. But where can you find it, really? I guess you could find a street with as many lit and decorated houses as possible. Or a street of shops and stores lined with trees covered in Christmas lights. Other than that, my only other guess is the big trees and giant ornaments in the mall, which is also the last place I want to be spending my Christmas. Thus I am grateful for public displays (even the Macy's tree in union square, I suppose), and for Christmas in the Park, filled with families and friends, old school Christmas symbols, holiday songs, and the scent of real Christmas trees.

5. On Reflecting Christ

Hanging out with my old high school friends is one of the situations where I'm not very good at reflecting Jesus. My high school faith was relatively shallow, and I never figured out a good way to speak confidently but relevantly about what I believed and how that affected my life. As I grew in college, my maturity didn't quite translate into my conversation. Now we're six years after high school, and even though I'm almost in full-time ministry, it's like the conversation of faith and beliefs sits on a shelf, occasionally dribbling a way in but never turning into something real.

And in a group where spirituality is not really anyone's interest, how am I reflecting Jesus? Do they see my faith, religion as something that really matters? Am I really different than any one of them? I'm a bit disappointed in myself as my petty competitiveness come out and I let the usual gossip slip. I've never really figured out how to turn the conversation away from old classmate gossip nor articulate why I even want to do so.

When I think about reflecting Jesus, I think about a radiating love and kindness. I think about a character that is set apart. A person who breaks norms and loves across boundaries. I know I've experienced this love, but what can I do to make sure others experience it too? Jesus, transform my heart even more and let others see you...

4. On God and Engineering

I may not be a practicing engineer, but I enjoyed the study of civil engineering a lot and still think a lot like one. I’ve been thinking a lot about finding God in engineering. It sometimes seems so obvious for my friends in the life sciences as they study the complexities of creation, but I’ve found few people articulating the connection to God and the field of engineering. Yet I believe that God’s story and work is woven throughout our lives, and sometimes we just have to realize it. Once I considered the question, a few very obvious and beloved points jumped out in my mind quickly. Keep in mind that this is from the perspective of a civil engineer with a little background in structural, water resources, and environmental engineering. For those in traffic engineering, electrical, or anything else—I’d love to hear your thoughts!

One of my first thoughts of God/creation/redemption to engineering is how often our designs imitate his creation. The scientific term is “biomimicry”: the examination of nature, its models, systems, processes, and elements to emulate or take inspiration from in order to solve human problems (Wikipedia). I like to think of it as God’s design, his nature is so perfect that engineers and designers have a whole term designated to mimic what we see, often because that design is really the best. I remember reading about the central draft air system in a building modeled after ventilation in an anthill. Or surfaces and coatings designed to copy waterproof leaves or semi-permeable skins on a frog (something like that. It’s been awhile since that class).  If this kind of stuff interests you, see this short Fast Company video about biomimicry and energy efficiency.

Secondly, we need to take our cue in design, engineering, and technology from the creator himself and the laws he lays out for us. Specifically, the move towards sustainability is undeniable in the recent years. Being sustainable, “cool”, “green” is the thing these days, which is incredibly important for conserving our natural resources and taking care of the quality of our air, water, and health.  I stand behind this because as a follower of Jesus, I believe that his redemption covers not only us with God and our relationships with each other, but also the redemption of us and creation. God’s original creation was good, and his good plan included proper stewardship of his land. The Year of Jubilee (Leviticus 25) includes returning land to those who owned it, forgiving debts, and also allowing the land to rest. God outlines a sustainable system for us from the very start, though we fail to recognize it.

On a side note: One of the biggest challenges of sustainability is convincing businesses and people that It’s good for them and it’s worth it. It’s better to be sustainable: the monetary investment put into designing a LEED certified building, for example, pays off in the costs saved by operations and maintenance. The health benefits of restricting emissions and hazardous waste—can you really argue this? But more importantly, I hear the echo of the good news and of redemption as God tells us that his way has always been better. His intention for us to care for creation has always been better, even in something as the nutrition and benefits of local farmers (more similar to old school/scripture ways of life) than chain grocery stores with shipments coming from miles away.    

Next, on the topic of design, I can’t help but think of the details and details that God provides every time something is to be built. His Tabernacle (Exodus 25-27), the ark Noah built (Genesis 6), the details provided in the repair of Jerusalem’s walls (Nehemiah 3). God doesn’t give any blueprints, and sometimes his instructions leave much to fill in. Still, I read the measurements and the instructions and I see a project engineer who has a vision for a completed product and the ability to delegate his team to get it done.

Lastly, when I think about engineering, I think about integrity. Integrity of the designers, engineers, and builders is essential for safety. I deeply hope that for the lives and safety of all people that they work with good character. Designing without integrity could prioritize profit over efficient design (that conserves resources for the public) or even safety (comprising quality to save time or money). But ultimately the engineer’s role is to design for the people and to uphold a strong ethical law. And when I think about character, truth, and concern for his people over all else—profit, efficiency, even his own choice—I think of the Father. I think of his son Jesus, whose lives we try to emulate. We seek to reflect his truth and justice, and his character alone is perfect. He is an engineer, manager, builder that we could all trust. 

These are just brief thoughts I've been churning, and obviously they could use a little more detail and scriptural back up. But it was fun to finally put them to words. Maybe in my ideal world, they'll turn into a fuller paper or article or something. For now, this will have to do :)

3. Thanksgiving at Our Table

It's common for the crab to be a bigger hit than the turkey. Speaking of that, the turkey is cooked in soy sauce and Lee Kum Kee Char Siu Sauce, and dad did real good with it this year (sometimes it's not a big hit). On and off we've tried some traditional items with various success: the cranberry sauce from the store was a fail, the Pillsbury rolls were a hit, the steamed vegetables were eventually dropped in favor of stir fry. But since I learned to make them in high school, we've always had mashed potatoes, and since a couple years ago I decided I would make salad too. We also have corn soup (like the kind at the Chinese restaurants), and mom couldn't help but make several cups of white rice too.

I tell a lot of people that my family is still figuring out how to celebrate the holidays. We follow things that we know are traditional even if they don't feel like tradition to us. We throw in new traditions as we go along, and occasionally drop some others. Our meals are a hodge-podge of Chinese and American dishes. And there's a chance that I may be even more excited about tomorrow's Asam Laksa (Malaysia's famous fish-based, sour and spicy noodle soup) than I was about today's turkey.

2. First Loves

Over a fancy dinner last night, I asked Darrell about his first crush. I told him about Kyle H. in fourth grade, who was really good at math and could solve the riddles in the Arithmetwist workbooks. Darrell talked about Emily in eighth grade (really boyfriend?? Your first crush was in eighth grade?!). They were partners together for decoding a message in core/language arts class. After they were the first ones to finish it, they memorized the code and continued to write to each other in code for a couple months. 

Of course, years later, the two of us meet while I’m majoring in Mathematics and he’s in an accelerated academic program. He makes fun of all the math or physics tricks that are normal parts of my life, and I incessantly bring up his math competition trophies. The banter continues about my love for calculus, his chess club competitions, our GPAs and other nerdy things. 

It makes me laugh that all those years ago, we already loved the smarts and brains of other people…and that we can enjoy that with each other now. Life is fun.

1. A Birthday Challenge

Something feels different about turning 24. I’m solidly in my mid-twenties, in the age of emerging adulthood. I’ve thought about this day for a couple weeks now, pairing those thoughts with the conversations of What I Should Do in My Twenties, themes of learning to try anything and everything, and how to grow from failure. I have a feeling that Twenty Four will be a great year. I’m in the middle of so much new right now, it’s impossible to think I won’t get to Twenty Five in 365 days without significant changes. I’ll know the city better, have one more year of ministry under my belt, hopefully have some friends in town, and maybe have completed another half marathon.

To celebrate, I’m going to kick off this year with 30 straight days of blogging (Tangent: I thought I was starting to blog more regularly, but the November hit and now this is the first of the month). A father-figure of mine says now is the time to do everything, then in your thirties you can start narrowing down and figuring out what you’re really good at. So I say to writing: Why not? I’ve wanted excuses to write more regularly, plus my life could use a little discipline. And this next month is as good a month as ever, and one of the rare periods that is uninterrupted by any student conferences or staff retreats. Perhaps I’ll finally put to words the thoughts I’ve had churning for a period of time. 

No particular rules, no specific topics, no required word counts or styles. Just 30 days of writing.