Home
Home can mean anything. To me, it’s the place I go back to. Not the building. Not the room. The place. In this case, not Iceland, but Reykjavík. Downtown Reykjavík. This is my home. This is where I do poetry readings. This is where I go to concerts. This is where I run my writing group and reading group. This is where I work. Where I meet people. Where I feel comfortable walking around, knowing every street. This is where the libraries are what give me space. This is where the language thrives that I long to speak. This is where I appreciate life as it is lived here. This is my home…
Writing to Rot, Passion to Burn
Perhaps my writing ecosystem is likened to that of fungus: let it all be left untended, lost, forgotten. Let it rot and decay, and my newest creations shall grow from the sludge like a fungus. It may not sound “beautiful,” but that is how it has been. I’ve been without internet for nearly two weeks. I wrote a lot. Quite a few blog posts, some poems, the starts to some stories. I probably won’t publish them. Instead, I’ll write this post — a growth consuming the decay of everything I leave forgotten. Of course, in this time, I’ve also been out and about as usual…
One Year a Human
At long last, I have lived in Iceland for one year, consecutively. On November 16, 2023, I landed in Iceland, moved into my Airbnb, and first truly called this country home. Since then, I’ve gone on a wild adventure as I have previously described. In the last two weeks alone, I’ve been to an evening work event, a Halloween party, a sendoff party, two birthday parties, a dinner party, and a movie night. Not to mention the regular writing group, meeting with the older man, karaoke nights, library group, and philosophy group. Or meeting with friends and work itself. All in two weeks. I find that a good summary of how things turned out for me moving to Iceland. Before coming here, what did I do? I met with my one friend remaining in Michigan perhaps once every two weeks. That was all…
I Don’t Take Pictures Anymore
Woe is me and all my problems: living in a wealthy country, making exorbitant amounts of money, maintaining a vibrant social life, and actually (mostly) enjoying my highly-flexible job. While working less than full-time. Meanwhile, there are people whose greatest concern is putting food on their table or actually affording their rent in the first place.
It’s not that I’m ungrateful, rather it’s the idea of how things could be. I’ve been put into quite the mood recently over my living situations…
Step by Step
I went to New York for my brother’s wedding. I flew out on Thursday evening, attended the wedding on Friday, then flew home Saturday night — my goal being to spend as little time in the US as possible. In the one day I was there, I managed to get terrible food poisoning which took me out for a week upon my return. Now, immediately after, I caught a cold. I find it woefully ironic how eager I’ve been to never return to the US, only to go for a single day and end up in such a sorry state. Nevertheless, I have a life to live, and I will live it: one step at a time...
Life Goes On
In spite of everything that happens, life goes on. I’ve seen so much so fast, yet here I am, still here, still going. Ups and downs — far too many downs, unfortunately. The feeling of leaving my entire life behind to come to Iceland was one of numbness: I had nothing to lose. Then, when I failed to establish anything here and had to return to the US, the feeling was of pure defeat. I spent many sad months in silent contemplation. But life continues. I came back to Iceland last November. That was a feeling of dread. I had no home, no job, no friends. No knowledge. No experience...
Philosophy Is Meaningless
I have a friend who discusses philosophy with me often, trying to poke holes in arguments and make counter-points for the sake of it. He doesn’t do it out of serious disagreement, rather for the fun of philosophical debate. However, a recent discussion motivated me to finally try and express my own personal philosophies in a more succinct manner. So here is my attempt...
On Life and Living
My time in LA was characterized by the stereotypical American city: eight lanes of crowded traffic in both directions, parking lots absolutely everywhere, no pedestrians, and big, fancy office buildings. The people I know told of their plans: working, moving up the ladder, and making money; school for the sake of work, work for the sake of money, money for the sake of a home. The enjoyment of life? The question was more often, “What enjoyment of life?” I feel bad for my Korean friend who just started a serious relationship only to have to go back to Korea for 18 months (putting his final years of med school on pause) so he can do his mandatory military service...
Whose Fault Is It?
Who is right? Who is wrong? Who to blame? Who to trust? Who to let in? Who to keep out? I’ve been fortunate to become privy to the private lives of quite a few people since coming to Iceland. Someone asked me an interesting question last week: “What would you least want people to know about you?” It took me a while to think of an answer because I don’t really have any secrets. After all, I write about my life, my thoughts, and my feelings right here. The whole point is to be open about everything. So I replied by telling him that I don’t want people to know about my ideas of Finland because I don’t want people to think I’m actively making plans to leave Iceland. And with my knowledge of others’ lives, I realize that many people keep secrets. And they rarely make sense...
Ten Unpublished Posts
I went to the US last week, for one week. In short, it was an adventure. People died, people disappeared, people were charged with crimes, I got stuck in Iowa, I lost all my possessions, I lost a thousand dollars, and more. I’m dramatizing it, but all those things actually happened in some way. And more, of course, but that’s for another day.
Life has been up and down these past few weeks. I wrote ten blog posts, published one, then took it down. The other nine are written, but I won’t publish them…
365 Days in Iceland in Review
I have already spent 365 days living Iceland. That includes the time I spent last year before leaving, then the time upon my return in November through today. A lot has changed in that time.
It began with me being unhappy doing my PhD in Utah. I moved back to Michigan in 2022 with no real idea of what to do with my life after losing hope in my lifelong dream of becoming a professor…
On Doing What You Want
In all our hearts is yearning and desire. For the mountains. For the sea. For a person. For a life. We long and we yearn, but so rarely do we act. Instead, we look at those around us and tell ourselves lies: they are happy, we say. And we feel wrong to not be the same. But what is the truth behind their smiles? And what happens behind the closed doors of the homes of those we admire…
The Questions I Can’t Answer
When each and every moment and interaction is a lesson, what is the end goal? What is the purpose? The questions are spiritual, religious, or whatever you might label it. But to put it simply, if there were no reason for our existence, then nothing matters — we are blobs of flesh that were never conscious, so we will never be impacted by the going-ons of our lives: we die, the end. But, that is not the case. I can say that, at least, because I am me. Are you you? I should hope so, because I can only speak for myself. The big question here is this: why am I me and not anyone else? In that question is the proof of something more to life, some type of greater meaning or purpose. If I am me, then I am me for a reason because I could so easily have been anybody else…
It Took Me Four Months to Write a Book Description
…I finished the book by February, but I haven’t published it yet even though it is currently May (the 20th as I write this). It turned out that I had a few things wrong. The content of the book is perfectly fine, but I misunderstood the nature of various situations I wrote about. The take-aways are still valid, I simply feel “wrong” myself to or publish a book that contains descriptions of events that I now perceive differently. Were I to fix the book, however, I would need to write an entirely new book. I don’t want to do that: this book is valid. Rather, it is I who has changed. Thus, it has been a very difficult process to reconcile what I wrote…
Who Is Anyone?
Over the past month or so, I’ve been presented with a new world. Now that I have a place to live and a job, life, as I’ve written, simply happens. Every day is someone new or getting to know someone better. It’s difficult for me in group settings where everyone already knows everyone and I’m the quiet new guy, but it has been a good experience. It shouldn’t really be a surprise, but I’ve been able to witness the depth of people firsthand: we are all the same. It’s fascinating being able to understand the reasons people do what they do and say what they say. For example, there is one person I’ve been trying to figure out for some time. A simple statement here and there, and suddenly they make sense. I can catch it and realize: “This is why they behave the way they do.” Reality “clicks”…
Can You Believe That You Can Live? (psychiatrists hate him)
I’ve written quite a lot about the spending of time. For example, the fact that I would rather walk for an hour to go downtown than take the ten-minute bus ride. Or how I walk twenty minutes to work (plus an additional four minutes just so I can take the forest path) rather than riding a bike/scooter or taking the bus. Meanwhile, so many people around me are stressed. “I’m busy” is something I’ve been hearing a lot. Yes, working eight hours a day takes a lot of time and energy. Yes, there is a lot of other “stuff” that needs to be done, other obligations, etc. But are you happy? The answer is usually no. I’m repeating myself yet again, the same topic as always: “Are other people happy?” “No.” That’s not my point, though…
There’s Something Wrong
One year ago, I wrote the following in one of my first ever prose pieces:
The eyes of those upon whom I gazed spoke the words no man would speak. What words I heard showed me visions. Visions of another life. And every movement told a story. Each whisper, a scream.
Was this always so? Before my eyes were opened? Or was I merely blind to the world that runs beneath? Beneath the gaze of others. Beneath the words and whispers. Beneath the sights before me…
Self-Awareness, Depth, & Maturity
To be young. Is it immature? The very idea of maturity is rather difficult to express. Perhaps I would describe it as “handling things well.” Not getting angry. Being forgiving. Being understanding. Being kind and compassionate, even. Qualities that have one common factor: self-awareness…
Life Is Meant to Be Difficult
I wonder if the very reason for things being so difficult – as in not fully “trusting the universe” – is so that we feel the full emotional effect of everything that happens to us: both the ups and the downs. Because it’s easy to tell ourselves that everything will work out in the end. It’s easy to believe that everything is for a reason. But accepting that and trusting that is nearly impossible. I speak only for myself, though…
Life Happens
For my entire life, the idea of “living a life” has always seemed like a far-away problem — a matter for tomorrow. Each period of my life was lived for the next: what I did in high school was for undergrad; what I did in undergrad was for grad school; what I did in grad school was for being a professor… and I would become a professor, my end goal, but then what? All the while, I was not happy. My entire life was dedicated to math and computer science. I started this path at the age of 16. How was I supposed to know anything at 16 years old? So I kept trudging onwards, expecting life to simply happen…