Do I Even Try...

How do I do this?

Both photography and writing fall disappointingly short at conveying the magnitude of emotions that even the simplest of experiences illicit. I sit here reflecting on the Killing Fields, staring at a dissipating lake, trying to peace together sentences and poignant fragments, to somehow capture the truth that can be, not learned, but felt while playing with a Cambodian orphan. I put pen to paper or fingertip to shutter, but am consistently disappointing by my results.

I believe that only the most artistic of souls can capture the sheer weight of our experiences. Can I begin to do it? Should I even try? My answer, to my own question, is a resounding "Yes." I will try to compose moving and meaningful images and I will attempt to paint literary portraits. Not to fulfill any goals or to meet any standard, but instead to explore what it is that I experienced. By writing I am reflecting, and by reading I am remembering. These two, or four, acts help me to build my own world, or my perspective of it, a little more thoroughly. It is only then that my heart and my soul fall in line with what I was trying to accomplish by traveling in the first place. To be changed.

So, as Ernesto "Che" Guavero writes in The Motorcycle Diaries, "The The person who writes these notes passed away the moment his feet hit Argentinian soil. The person who reorganizes and polishes them, me, is no longer, at least I am not the person I once was." The man who writes these words that you are reading right now is different than the man who experienced what they are a response to, and in much the same, but entirely different way, the person who re-reads them over again will be different than the one who first jotted them down.

It is my hope that this process continues as I move away from this crazy capitol city. I hope that the process not only continues, but in fact perpetuates further change as I go to Siem Reap, Ko Chang, Bangkok and back on home to America. I suppose in writing this a new discovery was made: The greatest hope of my life's journey is that relationships, cultures and experiences continue to perpetuate change, growth and a more active pursuit of love in the deepest recesses of my heart and soul.

Faces of Tibet

I have a lot going through my mind right now. I have been in a town called Mcleod Ganj for the last four days and I am loving it. Mcleod has become the home to the Tibetan Government as well as the Dali Lama. It is a very peaceful and tranquil place compared to other parts of India. Yesterday I hiked to a 8,600 foot ridge line that had spectacular views of a 16,000 foot Himalayan peak. The most profound moments however have been spent with a crew of Tibetan Monks who run the hostel I am staying at. Yeshi, Tenzin and I have spent the last three nights eating traditional Tibetan dinners together by candlelight. We have traded personal stories, explored the differences between Eastern and Western philosophies and shared our biggest struggles. It has been a treasure staying here with them. Each of them have shared their personal journeys through the Himalayans to seek refuge in India more than ten years ago. Stories of hope and of suffering have been shared.

At one point I asked Yeshi: "If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?"

After much thought and consideration he responded with hopeful excitement, "Tibet!"

I proceeded to ask him, "If you could go anywhere other than Tibet where would you go?"

He closed his eyes and with a gentle softness responded with, "Heaven."


Today I took part in a very emotional "Free Tibet" rally. Tears were pouring and chants were being shouted. The Tibetans, both young and old, walked for nearly 12 kilometers down a 4,000 ft mountain to the town of Dharamsala to share their message. It was a very moving demonstration. If I can find a decent Internet connection I will share some photos... otherwise it would take hours to upload. I am about to go to meet with my Monk friends one more time for dinner. Tomorrow I take a bus out of Mcleod Ganj to Pathankot where I board a train to Varanasi. As soon as I am able I will post again. Until then, Peace and Love.

So, there is this girl...

I have had a number of requests to update the world as to my relationship status. Because I don't really know everyone who reads this, I am not going to go into much depth, but I can say that there is this girl who is incredible. I have known Courtney for quite some time now. We met for the first time at a church in Seattle the summer after my freshman year in college. We ended up spending a month together in British Columbia at a summer camp. Our lives were entirely different when we first met, and over the course of the last three years our paths have meandered their way into one another's. The last six months have been filled with a grace that I have never experienced. Our interactions are divine, and the phrase "beyond my wildest dreams" has become realized. Her creativity and confidence change hearts. Her sincerity and beauty reflect the love of our creator. And, her integrity and intentionality inspire me every single day. We have journeyed together in Colorado, California, Oregon, South Carolina and North Carolina. I look forward to breaking the mold, wandering together alongside the divine nobodies of this world in pursuit of truth, grace and love.  She is planning on moving to Denver this summer to change the world, or at least this part of it. The prospect of living life by her side excites me to no end, companionship is great... Okay that is all you get (if you even wanted any in the first place.) If you want to know more I would probably be more than happy to tell you about grace. I hope that all of you are doing well. Peace and Love. 

One

There is a love that binds us. 

A love that spans great distances, 

experiential differences, 

emotional disturbances. 

Love.

There is a love that accepts us.

Fulfilling fruitfulness in rest, 

waging warfare in romance,

hearts pining for the One.

Hope.

There is a love that speaks to us.

Sword of compassion in the right,

white horse patiently waiting,

battles ready to be fought.

Peace.

There is a love that builds us.

Kingdoms that move,

souls willing to fall inline,

dynamic landscapes made perfect. 

Wonder. 

There is a love that unites us.

Hearts worth fighting for,

pure and spotless intimacy,

side by side for the One. 

Grace. 

A letter to nobody in particular...

I am kind of struggling right now. I have been here before, different circumstances, but similar feeling of helplessness. A year and a half ago I was in a similar place. One night I sat down at my desk, and between tears wrote a letter to nobody in particular. I ended up sending it to a couple of people who eventually helped me and my frustrations. I don't really know why I feel compelled to put this on here, maybe it will wring true for someone...maybe it will help me to better understand the struggles I have been battling with lately. This was a letter of frustration to nobody in particular:

To whomever,

I am sitting at my computer right now and I am stressed out about WyldLife, I am stressed out about classes, I am stressed out about working at Lowe’s, I am stressed out about my dad coming, I am stressed out about this summer, and I am stressed out about Nikki and my relationship. I have no idea what my next move should be, it feels like I am wandering further and further into a dark labyrinth. I have no idea which way I should even point to run, or which task I should begin to work on. My grades aren’t doing very well, and the person who I talk to about things is hurting too badly to hear anything I have to say about my own worries and struggles.

My dad is coming out next weekend and I found out that he will only be here for 48 hours, which is substantially less than I had originally depended on. This is not to say that I am not excited about his arrival, but I am stressed about the fact that one of the two nights that I have to see him I will be working at Lowe’s. I will be pushing shopping carts and dealing with angry contractors rather than residing in the comfort that comes along with spending time with my father. The comfort that I crave so badly right now, the comfort of home, is thirteen hundred miles away. Home has been correlated with refuge and rest. When I go home I don’t have to worry about classes, I don’t have to worry about tests, work, girlfriends, failed friendships, housing, roommates, soccer, ministry, or anything that has previously brought me joy. I crave the comfort of my basement. I crave the tranquility that the sun brings as it dips below the Rockies. I desire to be secluded, in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any distraction. I crave alone time with just me and my creator, basking in his glory. Free from online quizzes, the sound of the Lowe’s security system going off, free from the heartache that comes with your girlfriend not wanting to be with you but rather be at home.

I feel like I have failed at more things than I can admit too. I failed my roommates, I was unable to reach the level of community and intimacy that I knew was attainable. Every time I get a test back I feel like I have failed myself, and the thousands of dollars my dad has spent on my education. I feel like there were so many potential friendships at the end of last year, and with graduation approaching many of them have ended in nothing. I was hit with the brutal realization that great fellowship takes work, prayer, and above all dedication. One must be dedicated to the point of humbleness, and I think I have failed at that as well. The feeling of failure has caused me to reach a level of numbness. I don’t find joy in loving somebody on my team, like I used to. I don’t find joy in really great worship, or fits of laughter, or a good movie on a Friday night. Joy has become a relative term; it doesn’t mean the same thing it did a year ago. Rather than joy being its own state of being, it has become the absence of another …hurting.

Never in my life have I seen or felt the pain that a person can bear. I have never embraced a person sobbing so hard that they must be carried away in an ambulance, because they just killed their best friend. I have never held the hand of somebody who has just lost one of the people that they love the most. Helplessness has become something that I can finally understand. I have been experiencing the feeling of helplessness that is found only in not being able to help the person that I care about the most. There is something that is unexplainable in loving somebody who is incapable of loving in return. I don’t even know what it is like to have a real sibling, so how am I capable of bringing any comfort to someone who has just lost one? It is simple…I cannot.

I have never experienced what it is like to be slowly or abruptly nudged from the comfortable household that I grew up in. To return home to find one’s bedroom filled with paperwork, to expect the perfect homecoming, but rather find a totaled car in the driveway and an empty house. My dad who I can safely say is someone who knows more about me than anyone else doesn’t have a clue as to my struggles anymore. The comfort in knowing that somebody else is aware of your struggles has become non-existent. In the same way, the comfort that once flowed through the book of Corinthians has simply become letters and words.

My faith has changed from an intricate relationship with the son of man, to a basis for my decision making. A relationship between me and Jesus no longer presides over everything else, but instead what the next crucial decision I have to make will result in. How can you say do not worry about tomorrow, when the things you decide today will directly change tomorrow. Do I end a potentially amazing relationship? Do I drop out of school and do nothing? Should I really tell my dad how I feel about his new lifestyle? Should I go home tomorrow? Do I really need to study for this next test? Every single thing has reproductions that I am not ready to experience. Physical repercussions, emotional repercussions, financial repercussions, and spiritual repercussions are all waiting right around the corner of every decision I make.

The point of this is not to scare whoever reads it, if anybody reads it, but rather for me to finally put into words some of the things that have impacted me the last couple of months. Somebody who I care about deeply just reminded me of the fact that it will be alright. Things will be better. Joy isn’t found in smiles and laughter, clichés and fun experiences. Joy is found in being able to say, while wandering through a maze of shit, that you trust in the one holding you safely in his hands.


Chris

Vulnerability can be incredibility difficult. Right now it seems difficult to be vulnerable with myself. The emotional tapestry that is Chris is hardly recognizable, which brings its own confusion. I hope that I can hold onto the last two sentences of that letter. I have hope.