How to Read the Sound of Settling

Some of you have inquired about the new title, so let me explain. This most mysterious of monikers is, in fact, a clever concoction of my own loaded with multiple layers of meaning... sort of.

One of my favorite bands is Death Cab for Cutie. One of my favorite songs of theirs is called The Sound of Settling.

I am a poor and lonely college student stranded in a foreign land, forced to fend for myself and forge my own path in the world. Well, it's not quite that dramatic, but all this new-found independence leads me to ponder some of life's biggest questions: What am I doing here? How can I make the most of these "best years of my life?" Why do I feel pulled in so many directions? What does God want from me in the midst of this safety and fun?

This blog, therefore, is simply my personal-yet-public thought-receptacle. I'm trying to "settle" into this new environment and ... adjust to a new life, if you will. All the confusion and rambling that results could be described as "the sound of settling."

As for the reasoning behind the full title, I just figured that in visiting this blog you are "reading the sound of settling." Ha, but of course it's impossible to "read a sound" -- that part is just a product of my brilliant wit.

Anyways, there's the story. I'd also like to post a little heads-up that I will probably be writing about things outside my mundane daily activities. Expect to find a plethora of trivial musings and rants, a few responses to noteworthy experiences, and perhaps the odd tidbit of insight.

While I'm at it, I might as well give you a little update on some things.

So I haven't had any tests all Spring semester. Great, right? Sure, until I have two big tests on the same day. Ever wonder why work seems to cluster and attack in waves? I do. Tomorrow I will write a Spanish unit test, sit through an hour of riveting Philosophical discourse, and then take our first of three CCC exams. If you get this in time, I'd appreciate a quick prayer! Or even if you don't get it in time, I suppose you can still pray about it, seeing as God exists outside of time and all that.

In other news, I had a great weekend. I watched a movie or two, hung out with friends, ate a lot, made $40 at work on Saturday, did plenty of homework and studying, and got caught up on some sorely missed sleep.

On Saturday night two friends and I went to a virtually empty on-campus theater to watch "Bigger Faster Stronger" -- a documentary on steroid use and American perceptions of male body image. A shockingly depressing two hours later, I left in silence, scratching my head and thanking God that I'm not American.

Ha, well that's not entirely true. Clearly the problem is with the West in general, and it is a grave problem indeed. The film aimed to present the use of Anabolic Steroids not as a problem in itself, but as a 'side-effect' of American culture. There was cause for laughter at everything from ridiculous Hulk Hogan commercials telling kids to "eat your vitamins and say your prayers" to the juxtaposition of G.I. Joe in the 1960s with the unrealistic, strapping beast that he became in the 90s. What are kids supposed to do when their lifetime heroes are bodybuilders and pro-wrestlers that spend most of their adult lives pumping iron and steroids (often in equal proportions)? And what are they to think when those heroes shamelessly admit that they use performance-enhancing drugs and still rise to the top? (Case in point: Arnold.)

But why do steroids receive such a negative reputation? What about Tiger Woods and his laser-eye surgery that boosted his eyesight to 20/15 in both eyes? Is superhuman eyesight in golf any less of a performance-enhancer than anabolic steroids in body-building?

In conclusion, the whole thing got me thinking about body image in general. I can't stand another Bowflex infomercial, with their professional body builders and highly doctored "before and after" photos. Even more appalling is the fact that these ridiculously contrived advertisements are somehow effective. People still drop hundreds of dollars and hours on gym memberships and the latest and greatest "legal" enhancers. The film profiled a 50-something "gym rat" living in his van and spending everyday at the legendary Gold's Gym that was once home to Arnold the Great, and a 30-something weightlifter who has sent dozens upon dozens of audition tapes to the WWE waiting for his contract and his shot at "happiness" -- he is rejected every time. For these two men, all they know is muscle. They have no means of defining themselves apart from their benchpressing records and dreams of stardom. Unless something changes, they'll die even more miserable than they already are.

I guess I'm just glad I have something more to base my life on. I have a shot at a great education and a chance to make a difference in the world. I have a family and friends who care about me and want what's best for me. Best of all, I have a relationship with the God of the universe -- a God whose love for me has nothing to do with the size of my biceps (thank goodness for that). It's a depressing thought for me to think that people spend their entire lives obsessing over how they look on the outside, when God has given us so much depth and beauty to enrich our "insides." I have no problem with people who like to work out or lose weight, but just how much of our time and energy should be spent on something that will turn to dust one day anyways? How much more valuable is the beauty of God's creation -- in the arts, music, knowledge, nature itself, and, most importantly, in each other?

There is an unending amount of knowledge out there, and more beauty on earth than any one person could ever lay eyes on. I get so excited about the potential of all I can accomplish and experience if I just turn my focus off myself. With eyes on things above and outside ourselves, I think God can really use us to impact and restore the world.

That's all.
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