mr_snappy's Xanga

Savor It

Sat, 25 Aug 2007 18:57:46 GMT

Fyodor Dostoevsky is regarded by many as the greatest novelist of all time. I remember reading Crime & Punishment in high school, and though I was not (nor am I now) a literary buff by any means, I found that I became more absorbed with the novel's main character, Raskolnikov, as we navigated his enigmatic life.

Dostoevsky was arrested early in life for his plot to overthrow the Tsar (the Soviet emperor) in hopes of establishing a democracy. While imprisoned, the Tsar did something to him that altered his entire life. The Tsar sentenced Dostoevsky to the harshest punishment possible – death by firing squad. When the day of his execution arrived they marched him outside and stood him blindfolded with his back to the wall. The squad loaded and aimed their arms. The Lieutenant asked him if he had any last words. After briefly saying something, the Lieutenant finally barked the orders:

“Ready........aim.........FIRE".

The guns simultaneously discharged with deafening blasts. Unbeknownst to Dostoevsky, the barrels were only loaded with blanks.

Dostoevsky went through the process of dying, without dying. Can you imagine that? This type of staged performance was deemed so utterly terrifying that it was known to produce mental insanity in the Tsar's prisoners. What the Tsar knew was that if an individual was put through this torment, he or she would be so grateful that they would never rebel against the Tsar again. Dostoevsky did not become a martyr for the cause, but instead was grateful of the Tsar for the remainder of his life.

Dostoevsky later told what his ‘last day’ was like. He awoke in the morning, knowing that this was his last day of life and realizing that it was only a matter of hours before his execution. When served his last meal, he deliberately savored each portion of the meal with such delectable appreciation. It was the best food he had ever tasted. When they marched him outside he felt the rays of the morning sun on his face. It had never felt so good on his skin. The crisp, fresh air was never this delicious to inhale. Every moment leading up to the firing of the guns was lived with such hyper-intensity and ultra-awareness. Every facet of life was magnified as to not take anything for granted. Dostoevsky contends that he was more alive in those few morning hours than he had everbeen before.

When we tiptoe through life, we forget to live passionately and with intention. We are afraid to do daring things for God because we are too cautious. Life becomes an annoying chore rather than a delight, and we wade through our days not fully realizing the gift we have. And what a gift we have! May I never take the ebbs and flows of life for granted. It is my hope that I, too, am able to live each waking moment with such hyper-intensity that my life evolves into a glorious adventure instead of a banal, redundant exercise.

"To be a human being among human beings, and remain one forever, no matter what misfortunes befall, not to become depressed, and not to falter -- this is what life is, herein lies its task." (Fyodor Dostoevsky in a letter to his brother before his bogus execution)

The Store of 100,000 Movies

Wed, 09 May 2007 02:34:33 GMT

I’m learning that God often speaks during the most strange and unpredictable times.

This afternoon I was in downtown Vancouver attempting to hunt down a very rare movie that our group is going to analyze and present for class on Friday. In the days prior, I had searched just about every big-name movie franchise down to the most obscure Mom ‘n’ Pop rental stores for this film, but came up empty handed. After a quick email to my prof for some pointers, he recommended a place in the eastside of Vancouver. So I made like a bowel and moved.

After taking my designated exit off the highway, I suddenly spotted - not 100 feet in front of me - a different video store on a busy intersection. The sign read Tom’s Video: The Store of 100,000 Movies. At the last second I whipped into the parking lot with the rationale of, “well HOT DANG that’s a lot of movies. One of ‘em has got to be mine”. I do not know why I stopped to look, but something inside of me said “just do it”.

While pulling into my parking spot, I focused on a man in a wheel chair exiting the store. Or at least attempting to. I noticed that he could not get through the door, even after many attempts. He kept trying, but failed. As I approached him, I held the door open so he could wheel himself out. He thanked me, and without skipping a beat (as if this appointment was planned) he told me he was going across the street to McDonald's to get some dinner. I asked if he needed help crossing the intersection, and he immediately took me up on my offer.

He was an Asian man; his middle age revealed by his receding hairline and spots of gray. His body was frail and his right hand warped and disfigured. When I began wheeling him along the sidewalk in our approach to the crosswalk, he began asking about me. What school I go to. What I am studying. Where I am from. What my degree is in. Fortunately for that last one, I got to bust out my way-overused canned answer that I have spewed on just about everyone and their dog during the past year: “Business administration with a specialization in entrepreneurship. But I am pretty sure business is not my calling in life. I’m still figuring out what my calling is”. He asked me what I felt my vocation was, and I answered that working in a hospital with kids is my current goal.

For the next few minutes, as if he knew I was going to say that, he advised me to follow that calling. He urged me to seek programs for terminally ill children and places with cancer patients. He implored me to work with the diseased and actually start-up a rehab program for the sick; programs where kids can play and learn while living with their condition. He basically re-emphasized and confirmed once more what others have been telling me - both friends and family - but in a more radical and explicit manner. He called the shot without even knowing me for 5 minutes.

I was perplexed and taken aback at our unorthodox conversation. It’s not every day you help an old man in a wheel chair across a loud Vancouver intersection (helping an old lady cross the street in your boyscout uniform...maaaaybe). Usually when one is with a stranger in Vancouver for less than five minutes, one discusses the weather; last night’s Canuck’s game; current economic fluctuations; Britney Spears’ new hairstyle (or lack of). Light, simple topics that are used to fill socially inept moments. Instead, he kept throwing insight towards my future as if he were the next fortune-telling Miss Cleo.

Even as I write this, I’m trying to make sense of this peculiar appointment. Was it the unction of the Holy Spirit which prompted me to turn into this random video store? Did God use this handicapped gentleman to speak in a timely and direct fashion to my unanswered prayer, or was this just a random coincidence? No doubt I choose the former. Remember that our prayers never go unanswered. Most of the time, we're too busy to hear the voice of God. Left with no choice, God often orchestrates some bizarre moments and uses temporary angels to shake us by our collars and speak into our situations. What a mighty Father we serve.

I side with Albert Einstein’s words: “Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous”.

Nicely put, Al. Nicely put. Oh, and they did have my film in stock.

Matt, meet blog. Blog, meet matt.

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 21:16:59 GMT

I succumbed. Cue the condescending it-was-only-a-matter-of-time-before-you-caved laughter. I hear you chuckling. I solely place all blame for the inception of this demoralizing method of cyber-journaling to Miss Harmonie Vallerand. I hope you feel satisfied, Harms. I vividly remember once mocking anyone who 'blogged' because I couldn't think of a greater way to become a bona-fide loser. Apparently, the joke is all on me as I reluctantly hop onto this bandwagon steeped in a rich tradition of awarding 'e-props'. What the dilly is an eprop, anyway?? Sounds like new-skool ebonix straight outta compton, yo.

So naturally I have been lent-fasting from Facebook (the bane of all existence) during the past four weeks. And what do I do? Oh, that's right, I create a Xanga page to pacify the crippling side effects of having no current mode of social networking. Addict? Debatable. Nerd? No doubt. So snip the red ribbon and raise a toast - here's to whatever future the Xanga God's have in store for me. And now it's back to this glorious thing we call 'schoolwork'.

note: Please forgive my poor attitude. What may seem as embittered resentment towards the wonderful Xanga Community is just shock of doing what I always told myself never to do. It may take a while to wear off.