Much can happen in the span of only a couple of weeks. My feelings, interactions and experiences have been a roller coaster and I have quite a lot to write about so I think I’ll make this a two-part blog. It is nearly midnight here and I am tired, but I have not been able to make time for blogging, so I figured I’d cut in to my sleep…
Since the last time I posted I can honestly admit that I have had feelings of depression. Don’t worry, it may not be as serious as that sounded. What I mean is, I have been grasping a tough realization and seeking an answer to that realization at the same time. What is the realization? It has to do with travel, my growth, changes and perspective in general. I remember the first time I ever traveled overseas – It was a feeling that I couldn’t recreate if I tried. In fact, I did try time and time again. I made my way through Europe, Southeast Asia, East Africa (again), back to Europe and then finally here to China. I don’t mean to sound pretentious or boastful, I feel only blessed by how much of the world that Father has shown me, but like anything, the surface feelings of excitement cannot/do not last. In a crude way of describing it, travel has become my drug and I chase the initial euphoria I first felt when I, or rather, it (travel) discovered me. The silly thing about chasing a feeling you first felt is that the chaser always knows, somewhere deep within himself that he will never feel that particular thing for the first time again for he cannot re-experience something and expect it to be the first because that is a plain and simple contradiction – to redo something assumes it has already been done. The brain is a keen thing and knows that is can be tricked/surprised once by the introduction of something new, but the second time it will already begin to make itself accustomed to the feelings it felt before and arguably by the third happening of said event, the brain will have almost no shock at all. This is perhaps, the cycle of routine and when analyzed in this way, a natural and necessary thing. If then this process is natural, what is a man like me to do when I so strongly wish to feel the excitement I first felt? That is the question I have began to ask myself and it started with my 2009/2010 trip to India.
When I first walked out into the airport in Calcutta I felt absolutely no shock at all. People were running around and shoving each other to get out of the terminal and as far as I was concerned, there was no rush and I don’t know what the hurry is all about. That is a common thing one will experience in every city around the world: everyone is in a hurry and most of the time the people don’t even know why they’re in a hurry. Anyway, that always especially confuses me in places like Nairobi, Kenya and Calcutta, India where time seems mostly to be a reference for when the next meal is rather than when the next executive meeting is and who needs their Starbucks when. So, I picked up my luggage from where some man had tossed it to get it out of the way of his and headed out into the streets. On the streets you smell the crisp burnt air of diesel and hear the horns of various vehicles filling the atmosphere to the point that casual conversation is held at a shout. Honking and yelling - expect this in most big cities. I sat in a taxi that weaved through Calcutta’s insane traffic blew through stop lights, cut off pedestrians and cursed at any other person assuming the right-of-way and I didn’t bat an eye, I had seen this traffic before in Thailand, in Uganda and Tanzania, in Vietnam and Dubai, in fact, I had driven this type of traffic more times than I could remember anymore. Everything that would shock the new traveler did not even faze me for a moment and somewhere mid-month in India I was fazed by this realization: this is all familiar to me and even comfortable.
Now, unlike drugs, my addiction has redeeming qualities and is usually conducted with the intention of serving others in the process, but nonetheless it is important to assess oneself often and know where one’s priorities lie and I have appropriately started to question mine. Actually, this is all very personal to me so I share it from a deep and concerned place in my heart and I do seek to express a certain lesson I am learning. I am learning a crucial fact about life: we cannot live for something we once felt, we cannot live trying to be people we once were, we cannot live in our happiest memories while the present is a passing sorrowful haze, and above all, we cannot live for something that is ultimately, when we die, nothing at all. I very much doubt that I will take traveling to my grave or the afterlife and if I could, I doubt I would do so with any kind of pride or reward for that matter. I was reminded of a part from a C.S. Lewis book where he writes:
“In this department of life, as in every other, thrills come at the beginning and do not last. The sort of thrill a boy has at the first idea of flying will not go on when he has joined the R.A.F. and is really learning to fly. The thrill you feel on first seeing some delightful place dies away when you really go to live there. Does this mean it would be better not to learn to fly and not to live in the beautiful place? By no means. In both cases, if you go through with it, the dying away of the first thrill will be compensated for by a quieter and more lasting kind of interest. What is more (and I can hardly find words to tell you how important I think this), it is just the people who are ready to submit to the loss of the thrill and settle down to the sober interest, who are then most likely to meet new thrills in some quite different direction. The man who has leaned to fly and become a good pilot will suddenly discover music; the man who has settled down to live in the beauty spot will discover gardening.”
Naturally, I couldn’t have said it better than C.S. I must now discover new music and gardening in whatever forms they are presented. Because of the extremely harsh winter environment here in Harbin, I don’t think gardening is an option… but, while music is being mentioned, I found a folk Mongolian group that I have become quite attached to known as ‘Hanggai.’ Beside that, my settling efforts include buying a bike for $20 that was stolen two days later, then I bought another one yesterday for $20 and as long as it isn’t stolen I will continue a newly founded tradition of riding each morning (weather permitting). I am also overjoyed to report that I discovered where the older men practice their gongfu (kung-fu) and I will do all that I can to convince one of them to be my master and train me in the sacred art I have cherished from my couch via Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan since boyhood.
All in all, life is good and though I haven’t mentioned much about being in China and life here in Harbin, I hope this has been enlightening and maybe helpful to future travelers (maybe even veteran travelers). I think that Father is starting to tug on me to grow up some and everyday I’m becoming more ready. I know I have (as far as I know) lots of time, but I intend to make use of my time and allow the developments that He needs in me.
~Johnny Young
Since the last time I posted I can honestly admit that I have had feelings of depression. Don’t worry, it may not be as serious as that sounded. What I mean is, I have been grasping a tough realization and seeking an answer to that realization at the same time. What is the realization? It has to do with travel, my growth, changes and perspective in general. I remember the first time I ever traveled overseas – It was a feeling that I couldn’t recreate if I tried. In fact, I did try time and time again. I made my way through Europe, Southeast Asia, East Africa (again), back to Europe and then finally here to China. I don’t mean to sound pretentious or boastful, I feel only blessed by how much of the world that Father has shown me, but like anything, the surface feelings of excitement cannot/do not last. In a crude way of describing it, travel has become my drug and I chase the initial euphoria I first felt when I, or rather, it (travel) discovered me. The silly thing about chasing a feeling you first felt is that the chaser always knows, somewhere deep within himself that he will never feel that particular thing for the first time again for he cannot re-experience something and expect it to be the first because that is a plain and simple contradiction – to redo something assumes it has already been done. The brain is a keen thing and knows that is can be tricked/surprised once by the introduction of something new, but the second time it will already begin to make itself accustomed to the feelings it felt before and arguably by the third happening of said event, the brain will have almost no shock at all. This is perhaps, the cycle of routine and when analyzed in this way, a natural and necessary thing. If then this process is natural, what is a man like me to do when I so strongly wish to feel the excitement I first felt? That is the question I have began to ask myself and it started with my 2009/2010 trip to India.
When I first walked out into the airport in Calcutta I felt absolutely no shock at all. People were running around and shoving each other to get out of the terminal and as far as I was concerned, there was no rush and I don’t know what the hurry is all about. That is a common thing one will experience in every city around the world: everyone is in a hurry and most of the time the people don’t even know why they’re in a hurry. Anyway, that always especially confuses me in places like Nairobi, Kenya and Calcutta, India where time seems mostly to be a reference for when the next meal is rather than when the next executive meeting is and who needs their Starbucks when. So, I picked up my luggage from where some man had tossed it to get it out of the way of his and headed out into the streets. On the streets you smell the crisp burnt air of diesel and hear the horns of various vehicles filling the atmosphere to the point that casual conversation is held at a shout. Honking and yelling - expect this in most big cities. I sat in a taxi that weaved through Calcutta’s insane traffic blew through stop lights, cut off pedestrians and cursed at any other person assuming the right-of-way and I didn’t bat an eye, I had seen this traffic before in Thailand, in Uganda and Tanzania, in Vietnam and Dubai, in fact, I had driven this type of traffic more times than I could remember anymore. Everything that would shock the new traveler did not even faze me for a moment and somewhere mid-month in India I was fazed by this realization: this is all familiar to me and even comfortable.
Now, unlike drugs, my addiction has redeeming qualities and is usually conducted with the intention of serving others in the process, but nonetheless it is important to assess oneself often and know where one’s priorities lie and I have appropriately started to question mine. Actually, this is all very personal to me so I share it from a deep and concerned place in my heart and I do seek to express a certain lesson I am learning. I am learning a crucial fact about life: we cannot live for something we once felt, we cannot live trying to be people we once were, we cannot live in our happiest memories while the present is a passing sorrowful haze, and above all, we cannot live for something that is ultimately, when we die, nothing at all. I very much doubt that I will take traveling to my grave or the afterlife and if I could, I doubt I would do so with any kind of pride or reward for that matter. I was reminded of a part from a C.S. Lewis book where he writes:
“In this department of life, as in every other, thrills come at the beginning and do not last. The sort of thrill a boy has at the first idea of flying will not go on when he has joined the R.A.F. and is really learning to fly. The thrill you feel on first seeing some delightful place dies away when you really go to live there. Does this mean it would be better not to learn to fly and not to live in the beautiful place? By no means. In both cases, if you go through with it, the dying away of the first thrill will be compensated for by a quieter and more lasting kind of interest. What is more (and I can hardly find words to tell you how important I think this), it is just the people who are ready to submit to the loss of the thrill and settle down to the sober interest, who are then most likely to meet new thrills in some quite different direction. The man who has leaned to fly and become a good pilot will suddenly discover music; the man who has settled down to live in the beauty spot will discover gardening.”
Naturally, I couldn’t have said it better than C.S. I must now discover new music and gardening in whatever forms they are presented. Because of the extremely harsh winter environment here in Harbin, I don’t think gardening is an option… but, while music is being mentioned, I found a folk Mongolian group that I have become quite attached to known as ‘Hanggai.’ Beside that, my settling efforts include buying a bike for $20 that was stolen two days later, then I bought another one yesterday for $20 and as long as it isn’t stolen I will continue a newly founded tradition of riding each morning (weather permitting). I am also overjoyed to report that I discovered where the older men practice their gongfu (kung-fu) and I will do all that I can to convince one of them to be my master and train me in the sacred art I have cherished from my couch via Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan since boyhood.
All in all, life is good and though I haven’t mentioned much about being in China and life here in Harbin, I hope this has been enlightening and maybe helpful to future travelers (maybe even veteran travelers). I think that Father is starting to tug on me to grow up some and everyday I’m becoming more ready. I know I have (as far as I know) lots of time, but I intend to make use of my time and allow the developments that He needs in me.
~Johnny Young