wandering, philosophical thoughts

I requested crayons for my birthday today. I was doodling around the edges of my notes today and drawing spirals and flowers and trees. I haven't done much of it since I was ten so my skills are the same, or honestly, far worse. I wished my notes were colored and bright, and that all my bland schoolwork would go away and be replaced by concrete things. The problem is not school, but the replacement of concrete activities with abstract concepts. How are we supposed to be happy theorizing when we are built to be doing? No one's body is meant to sit in a chair or hold a pen. I wish I were raised in a way that would allow me to feel free to just be and do instead of think abstractly, detached from a direct connection to anything. The less I deny this desire, the better I feel. We all want to feel connected to everything. That is the definition of love, that there is no separation, so everything kind I do for you, I also do for myself.

I have let myself talk about others lately... mild gossip. I have to stop this, now. People often bond over gossip, but at what price? If I picture myself being talked about, then I see clearly how nasty a thing it is to do.

Biking!

Yesterday I found a way to bike to the mall area outside Ithaca, in a little suburb. Once I get up the Cornell hill, I'm able to climb the rest on my bike (though it is still on an incline). I'm exciting because it opens up a whole new mini-world for biking, which I miss so much. It's not far, only 3 miles, but better than the mile or two I'm used to biking across this tiny town. It feels so good to be biking outside, past the golden and red leaves. I need more exercise for my mental health, and it's hard to be motivated in a gym.

I'm learning more about pesticides, why they get used. They do work very well, especially if you don't care about water of wildlife, so obviously I still think they are horrible. The price we pay with them is just too high in the long-term. If in the future, we aren't able to grow enough food without them (a contentious claim), then our population is too high. That doesn't do much good for those who already exist, but we have more than enough food for everyone already. It's just not distributed fairly, and nothing in the pesticide-mindset changes that. It is a short-sighted mindset, to be sure. It is so weird being in a room full of people who think that way. Yesterday at a meeting, they were all exasperated at the EPA regulations, as if none of that mattered. The EU is even crazier to them, passing regulations based on the precautionary principle, affecting all those who sell food to them. Why is the EU so different than us?

The nice thing about being a student is that there is this sense that what you're doing doesn't matter, because you are preparing for something else. Once you have a job, there's a feeling of "Oh, this is it." And so if you don't like it, you can think about going back to school. But you are wherever you are. Maybe you'll make more money later, but it might not make you happier. Maybe it won't give you much of a leg up. The psychology of it is pretty interesting, though.

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We keep on talking about places we would live. The pressure is on. I am becoming less interested in moving abroad. I would rather live here and travel, I think. I would have a much easier time finding people interesting people in a US city, people that I connect with. People from other countries are plenty interesting, but I often don't understand them, culturally. And there will be so many interesting prospects for jobs. But I do have to make sure I travel to some great places and keep up my Spanish. That's the nice thing about a diverse city, lots of international communities.

I want to know where I want to look for jobs *soon* so I can start researching and talking to people. But it's so hard to say. I will know when it feels right. I'm not sure if I want to go back to MN yet. Maybe a little later. MN feels like home, like I could live there for years, so maybe I don't want to go back yet.

I had another quick weekend trip to NYC. There were, as always, lots of shiny things to look at and lots of people, but it's nice to be back in an area where few areas are so gray, people are pretty chilled out, and stress is low. I have a lot of work to do before Thanksgiving, though. It will be worth it in the end so I can graduate on time.

In the past few weeks, I can see where the wrinkles in my face will form. People don't think I look old yet, but I can see how it will happen soon, especially when I have a child. Children age you, quickly. I'm happy about it, to be farther away from that age when people are reckless and less appreciative of what they have. It is an exciting thing. And, I'm still myself. I'm not getting more hardened and cynical, I was born that way and every day is an opportunity to shed that.

At the memorial service (which was packed, he was well-known and liked), I talked to his poor father, telling him about how I had met him, and how he was so warm and genuine. He smiled, smiling so big without daring to stop, because if he stopped smiling he wouldn't be able to stop crying, and thanked me for telling him this story. It meant so much to him to hear these things from others. I thought, "I was just going to tell him that one story, but I can't leave now, until someone else comes to tell him their story," in a kind of panicked way, because I really didn't know him that well. So I racked my brain and told him every interaction I could think of, keeping him entertained, until I found someone else to introduce him to, to keep him occupied with stories.

I know he must have been very sick to kill himself, but seeing his dad's face showed me very clearly the true consequences of suicide. He was in hell, and now his poor parents are.

Things for me are alright, luckily. Classes, data analysis, simple stuff.

I feel much better today about everything, talking about it has helped process it. Now I mostly feel awful for the parents, that would be the worst thing. They're coming to a memorial tomorrow and we'll say nice things. I was also talking to someone who has been a crisis line counselor. He said they were trained to use the word "suicide" a lot--it doesn't put the idea in someone's head and it's good to use.

It turns out the student that I knew that died, killed himself. People describe him as happy, but looking back, I am not surprised that he was in a lot of pain. I suppose it was beyond what we could do, but I wish I could have done something all the same. There will be a memorial service, and we will do our best to comfort his parents.