Being Simple Minded.

Space in London is in short supply, despite how big this place is and how big it might feel, there are more than a few people who fit into this big city, and because of this we all must learn to share what space we have. On the tube, on the streets, and even in our small living spaces there are infinite compromises to be made in life in such a large expanse. Over my past months here I’ve learned a lot from the constraints of my new life, and have sought to live in a far simpler way than I had previously had in Texas. It was no small change, but it has been a change that has yielded much in my thoughts on life from here forward and how I want to arrange myself and the things in my life. Were it not for my life in America I think everything here would feel totally normal, but years of programming a certain “way of life” makes what would otherwise feel adequate have the appearance of being small and constrained. Yes, I can seldom cook breakfast without having the mess spill over into my living room, and yes I have to wash my dishes by hand…and now my clothes washer is broken too…but it’s amazing how once we accept a new simple reality for ourselves the freedom we might find.

Moving over to London, I ridded myself of 10 years of accumulation, and took what only seemed appropriate for the months I planned to be here. That process alone exposes a lot, and begs much about why we have so much and why we feel certain things have value, necessity, and importance in our lives. Until recently I never had felt like I had too much, I always felt like I had just enough, but maybe never paused to realize that “just enough” had been growing little by little year over year. While my taste is pretty simple, and while much of what I spend I can rationalize, I am coming to feel that much of the effort I have made over the years to make life more simple has manifested itself via an increase in the amount of complexity (stuff, clutter, etc) in my life.

Now things aren’t bad, or they don’t have to be, but I think we so easily take for granted the level of luxury that is common place amongst us. I know that my generation is learning, or at least trying to become more thoughtful, appreciative, and aware but I feel despite all the slogans we’ve invented we’ve got miles to go and we’re all (myself included, and perhaps especially) detached from the realities of what keeping it simple means. If we live only in a hypothetical understanding of anything, whether it be simplicity or some other broad topic, we do not live in understanding of it at all.

Groceries have become the single most regular reminder of the excesses in my life. Any time I go to the store in London, I must carry home all that I purchase. Pretty much no matter where I shop I am at least a 400M walk to my door, plus the 57 stairs to get to my flat. I can’t help but think the fact that I’m purchasing loads of food that I struggle to carry might communicate something about the way my life is set up…again, not saying it’s wrong, just important for me to be aware of. And it can (if you allow it) trigger some thought provoking lines of questioning. What’s been interesting is that despite the royal pain that it is to go to the store every other day, and lug seemingly small loads of food and daily goods back to my flat, there is much satisfaction I’m finding in having less each day, and the flexibility it provides to live a life seeking my daily bread, in this case, both literally and figuratively. I heard someone once say that things by their nature are constraining not liberating, and the more we have the more we have to manage, and the more distracted we become from the bigger pursuits of our time…it couldn’t be more true.

Look, I know it might be a bit of a stretch…and yes I buy less because I don’t have a car or a “normal sized” fridge…and yes going to the store once a week is easier and smarter than once a day…BUT I’m just considering what I’ve compromised at the sake of convenience over the past years.

Despite my best efforts to simplify, I’ve found my solution is to do that with “more”, it's a pattern I’m working to break in my life mainly because I don’t really know what more I need. There are certainly things I want but I’m trying so desperately to want the right things, and the right things aren’t things at all. A new snazzy suit or an ipad are certainly not going make me a better man, but somehow the presence of stuff provides yet another illusion of comfort in our lives. We are taught to believe that more means more fulfillment; why else would bigger houses, super sizing it, faster cars, and the whole myriad of other upsizing quests that we’re so inclined to hold such appeal? This simply isn’t true, and it's a great illusion that our world has been susceptible to for generations, and I think only now are we starting to come to grips with the implications of this way of living both in our lives and in the world as we know it.

About two months ago walking through the antique markets in Paris, I was faced with the stark reality of how much stuff we generate as people. As I popped from stall to stall, in an old antique market I started to think of how much beauty had been lost in the name of progress and how much we’ve left behind in the purpose of “advancing” . As I waded through the mounds of old trinkets and household goods, records and photographs, toys and books smelling the French cuisine through the stiff winter air, I started to think about how far gone we all are, and how our bigger and better worldview might take a toll on us all before long. All this stuff has got to go somewhere, and in a few years that same antique market will be stocked full of the relics of today.

I’m now living with probably 25% of the stuff I had back home, and I’m perfectly fine, and still in many regards teetering towards excess, which is quite odd to pen down, but I guess part of what I’m seeing for myself is the abundance of what I already have. I think often the luxuries of our lives often end up as clutter that clouds our vision towards that which really, truly matters. The more that we obtain the more distracted we become from what we’ve been endowed. Even if just temporarily, we could allow ourselves to depart from the comfort we believe that is afforded via complexity, might we find how rich we are, and how that has so little to do with what fills the vacant spaces of our homes.

When its all said and done, I’m coming to know and understand full well how abundant my life is, and it has nothing to do with stuff. And while I have much in terms of things, the abundance for which I am most thankful is the love that has blanketed my life and made me whole despite the volume of toys in my toy box. The good Lord has afforded me much, and yet the thing I’m most changed by is not that he would provide me with such luxury but rather it is simply knowing him.

Simplifying on the daily,

CP

http://chrispanoff.blogspot.com

Shiny Happy People

It has been roughly a month since my return from Africa, and since my return I have come to find new sorts of life in London. I don’t know if it was the circumstances around my holiday or a heightened sense of awareness, but either way I feel like recently I have developed an acute sense of awareness of the people around me, and the implications of life in such a vast place.

I feel as if I was so flooded with feelings and thoughts about things in my life and on this course that I am on, that it took a few weeks of floundering about to get a grip and start making some strides to have my life and heart be focused on the right things. I guess the strange thing about all these thoughts, is not so much what they are about, but rather the fact that after all the time I spend processing things, I come back to a point of realization that most of what I see doesn’t matter, and that love, people, and God are all that should be our focus (reference the “Golden Rule” of Christianity). I’ve heard the word simplexity used before…it’s not a word…but it captures the essence of it. Life really is simple…but we are really complex…all these things play out somewhere in the middle; I guess perhaps that’s what simplexity is.

I will say that of all my travels to so many places, there is only one constant I have found, that being people. The backdrops and landscapes of this world vary dramatically, as do the cultural anthropology and history of nations…but we as people are very much alike. To me fact is the most amazing thing, that despite being worlds apart and seemingly so varied that we are all in this together, passengers on a ship that for all intensive purposes appears to be sinking. The coexistence of our infinite uniqueness and haunting similarity seems impossible…yet its really quite true.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve just been puzzled by what to do with my thoughts about people…they have mostly been questions or observations, and they haven’t yet formed a course of action. I feel like I’ve opened a big puzzle and am just staring at some pieces…over time I trust these things find their place, but it does take time. I’ve kind of broken this down into the fragments I’ve gathered…not sure this makes any sense, but after thorough examination not much really does, I suspect that’s what faith is about.

The massiveness of life with masses
The other day walking out of a tube stop, I counted the number of people I passed on one side…I counted 50 in the standing lane, implying another 50 in the walking lane, and another 100 on the other escalator…200 people at a moment in a underground rail station…the stream constantly being recycled. It’s just so funny that so many people could be so close to each other and never interact, never engage. Irrespective of what you make of life in a big city you can’t escape the immensity of it all, there is nowhere to hide. To think that I was in proximity to something upwards of 1,000 individual people just on my way to the office is kind of crazy, yet I interact with next to none of them.

As I’ve been looking at the world around me, I’ve become very sensitive to the number of people I see each day, and the expressions they wear. It’s actually quite amazing when you look beyond someone and try to figure out what they’re thinking or how they feel, what’s on their mind, what’s on their heart. It’s also amazing how something as simple as a smile, can communicate so much and break down so many barriers. I’ve tried to make that my mission in commuting, to say nothing, yet to be different in the way I act towards strangers. The more I look around at these people the more my heart is full of compassion for the human race and how delicate and disastrous mess we are. I can’t really describe it but, in looking at the world around me I’m finding quite a mess, and can’t find much of a solution beyond opening my heart and loving as best I can.

Things we hear, things we understand
I hear a wide array of languages each day, of all of the words I hear that don’t make any sense, there are two things I’ve come to understand in every language. These are genuine happiness (via laughter) and true sadness (via tears). I’ve become quite good at not even paying mind to all the strange languages and conversations I hear in my life as a passerby, however these two morsels of humanity I cannot simply be pedestrian to.

A few weeks ago, there was an Italian girl sitting at the bar by herself having a phone conversation, and while I sat sipping my latte, I noticed that as her voice began to strain and her Italian words started to become more difficult to speak. The conversation continued as she spoke into her mobile phone, then finally she could fight it no more, and her eyes gave way to tears. The conversation I could neither understand nor hear in full, but the tears said plenty that I could understand. I don’t know what caused her pain, but I knew what I saw…I still wish I would have hugged her, and been able to tell her that it would be alright; I think we all need reassurance every now and again. It is in moments like these, that somehow I feel like there is a way for us break down the dumb barriers of comfort that we hide behind, I think the world could perhaps become a better place if we did…or maybe I would just feel better about it all.

Being a stranger
Part of my fear of a place as big as London for myself has become the comfort of anonymity and how easy it is to remain a stranger, to build up walls to hide behind, comfortable nests of false intimacy, and create a new life of being unknown and unknowable. I don’t feel that I’m doing that…or at least I’m taking pause to consider things in my life in this regard. Maybe the most concerning part about it all is how easy it is to do, how much easier this false type of life feels here; I suspect it all boils down to a choice of a way to live with your heart really exposed, really loving, really living, and letting the rest fall out where it may.

Broke
Watching the situation unfold in Egypt over the past weeks has been really moving to me, I hate seeing the violence and I hate seeing people in such disarray, but I keep on coming back to the similarity of us as humans and can’t help but think if the people I pass every day hurt any less…they hurt and struggle differently no doubt…but I’m not sure it’s any more or less, just different. It seems that the constant progress of the human race can’t escape the constant vacancy and need for something more, and not more in a material sense. I am beginning to see it regularly on the faces of just about everyone I see.

If progress or industrialization or becoming more civilized were the solution the western world would have long outgrown human dissatisfaction, yet it hasn’t. If money were the thing, then rich people would all be happy…some of the most miserable people I know just so happen to be the wealthiest. I’m pretty confident that there is no human solution to the human problem, there is nothing WE can do that solves the problems WE make for ourselves…for this we need grace, we need love, and we need it perfectly, not as from ourselves

What’s maybe most confusing to me in all this random babbling, is that all these things make me want to engage more. Despite the messes of the masses, the pain, the turmoil, the bitterness, and the cold-heartedness I do not feel it’s beyond repair, and maybe just maybe it just takes caring a little more about people, worrying a little less about my agenda, loving more genuinely, giving more of my away and trusting that Christ is enough to satisfy (really). That's a good deal in my book, maybe the whole world won’t be changed by my life, but perhaps that’s not my job…perhaps I’ve been given a random band of riff raff to love for a reason.

Being Unique
On the way to the airport Friday afternoon, I saw a news piece on a guy who collects photographs of snowflakes. He travels to cold places and catches the falling snow on his microscope slide and then photographs them. Snowflakes are amazing when you look at them in detail, and most incredible of all is that they are all entirely unique, not one like the other. They are all formed under different circumstances, and all take different shapes, they have the same limitations of thermo physics (as in, they melt when it’s too warm), yet they’re all snow…entirely unique individually, entirely the same collectively, no one flake more special than the other, but all special. Somewhere in all this I guess we have to find where we fit, both similarity and uniqueness, and I think we’re called to celebrate both. Never neglecting how different we really are, but always finding a middle ground.

The picture on the box of the puzzle
So after it’s all said and done, I think we are left with a quite a conundrum, somehow finding a way to make sense of all the pieces of the puzzle. I believe if we take our eyes off the pieces and start looking at what the pieces are supposed to become we may get some sense of clarity. With time, and work, and patience all the thousands of tiny pieces starts to have clarity. I know it’s hard to take those big leaps to start sorting out the crap on our own, but the funny thing is none of this stuff has significance, but rather, it’s just a medium for Christ to do significant things. Yet there is a certain clairvoyance about life that comes when you can shrug off the nonsense…job, home, wealth, beauty, the whole lot doesn’t mean a thing…loving people, loving God is all that matters, from there we can use the senselessness to start making sense of it all, ourselves, and maybe even each other.

So, there’s a bunch of mental vomit…good luck.
CP

Poppies - Futures - Remembrance

This particular essay comes a few weeks overdue, but based on its nature and content, I certainly felt it imprudent to rush into such a topic, given its gravity. So as these thoughts have stewed over the past weeks, more rich have grown the flavors of appreciation I truly feel. Despite the content of what may follow, do not mistake this for a political piece, rather it is a collection of observations and inquiries into the lives we live (as always) and whether or not we live them as having been changed. I know many of these thoughts are disconnected and not cohesively presented, but I’m not here to convey a thesis, I’m just sharing some things that are shaping the way I’m seeing the world these days.

Upon my arrival here in London, apart from the hundreds of circumstantial differences I noticed in my daily life, I happened to have landed right in time for remembrance month. Now in the US, I am accustomed to patriotism speckled throughout the year, with a few long weekends and parades to pay , however brief, an homage to the freedom we have been afforded and the cost at which it was bought. The United Kingdom dedicates a month to memorialize those who gave their all so that others might have a chance at a good life and the grandest luxuries, freedom. Symbolically men and women adorn themselves with red poppies on their lapels to represent the blood that was shed so that they might have, the very life that they know, here, now, forever changed.

Over the course of the first few weeks I found myself thinking more about those that sacrificed for me in a lot of different ways. Being here has helped me to realize that the extent that great men past and present, would go to has been far past my consideration, and far beyond my comprehension, but my view is improving and I’m learning much about the negligence that I and so many others live drowned in. In the early weeks of my wandering here I was running through the area near the houses of parliament, and as I made my way home I came across a beautiful quote by Ben Okri at the Indian/Carribean war memorial that said “Our Future is Greater than our past”…and so from there and throughout remembrance month I began to process that which was paid (in the past) to ensure that I (me personally) might have a future and a great one at that.

I think it is fair to say, before I continue, that I would not even consider myself one who is detached from the great lengths that have afforded my liberties, nor do I feel like I live in neglect, but yet I feel it is safe to say that America lives and has lived an existence insulated from much of the fallout of most of the global military conflict throughout the modern time. It is not opinion, but fact, that we’ve be lucky enough to be out of the proximity of harm’s way, which can change the perspective we hold. Also, it’s very easy to forget all that’s given elsewhere in the world, in my mind this fact does not discount the cost of the American lives that have been given, but rather, it makes the cost all the more, a united front, a purpose great enough that men and women of many races and creeds might die that the cause of freedom might live.

On remembrance weekend, the weekend before our veterans day, I attended a church service that paid homage to a few men and women who gave their lives during WWII in unadulterated acts of bravery and love. As I sat quietly listening to stories that sounded so familiar to those I’d heard of our greatest generation, I realized a fundamental truth that had escaped me or at least that I had not been attentive to. In our war stories, we (America) are often painted the hero, the protagonist of hope and freedom, yet in doing so I’ve neglected that the loss, the fight was far beyond being purely American. So as I sat hearing of these heroes who fought bravely, the truth that the freedom of other men was a noble purpose and one that must be fought for seemed to resonate all the clearly.

So often it is easy for me to simply gravitate toward the sacrifice made (ie the life lost, those who gave) but why? It is not a political agenda, despite how it may seem, you and I have elected men and women to protect the name of freedom, and to fight for its cause when necessary…I would hope we’re not fighting for oil, or to protect our hegemony, but for the noble purposes of freedom for all.

Last weekend when I got to Paris in shorter time than I could get to Austin from Dallas, I realized the true severity of the threat that Nazi Germany posed and its propinquity to the UK. While it may seem inconsequential to the American war, it helped me contextualize more thoroughly all that was given, and all that was at stake.

Thus I have learned that a major shortcoming of my worldview is that the price paid for my political and religious freedom was purely American. Somewhere, long ago, a lot of people from this nation in which I now live died that I might know life some 60 years later. They believed that the prevalence of freedom, and the eradication of tyranny was instrumental for the future of this world, and this was true. They might not have known my name or whether I would even appreciate all they would do…but nevertheless they saw fit to give to a cause for our generation and generations to come. The sacrifice we know today both of this generation and the ones before us should not be forgotten.

Maybe the US is too big, or too far, or perhaps too entitled, but what I have found as a deep sense of national pride here is a refreshing as the crisp autumn that welcomed me here. Perhaps it is the small size relative to the states or the longer standing history. National pride and identity for what it means to be a citizen and countryman here is not lost on these people. They love what they are and what they have stood for, for better or worse…I pray that God grants me the strength to stand proud for the noble things, and the humility to lay down my sword when I’ve been wrong.

On Remembrance day, the nation of England had 2 minutes of silence to stop what they were doing and live a life that was interrupted to commemorate the price of our modern freedom…20 the math, if 10M people give 2 minutes, how many years does that equate to? I think that’s 38 years of time given from those in London. It was a great testament to what the collective power of the masses can do if we work in a unified front.

I guess all these things have given me pause to reconsider and be grateful for those who have given, are giving, and will give so that our future might be greater than our past. I’m trying to find my place in all this, as always, maybe it’s with a pen, maybe it’s with my time, or perhaps my money, but either way I know that I needed someone to be a champion for my freedom, and with that I must consider how to be a champion for others.

…What if we lived a life changed by the sacrifice that was made? How would our lives and our world be radically changed if each day we considered the cost that was paid that we might have life? What love is it for a man to lay down his life that others might live?

The tragedy is not that a sacrifice was made, but a tragedy is if we live in a way whereby the sacrifice was in vain.

Finding where I fit in the grand scheme of these things…
CP
http://chrispanoff.blogspot.com/

PS Hoping to return with more cheery and orginazed holiday thoughts.

Getting Old

Last Tuesday night I had a marvelous opportunity to share in a unique birthday celebration. As one might imagine, things here are much older than they are in the states, and with that age comes a more lucid view into the legacies that are left in the wake of our prior generations.

St. Paul’s Church in Oslow Square turned 150 years old last week, and as a part of the Sesquicentennial celebration Holy Trinity Brompton (the church I’ve been attending) threw a celebration to commemorate the legacy of a house of worship that has out-survived a vast span of global military conflicts, has seen the rise and fall of empires, and has seen technological advancement and evolution of modern society that probably dwarfs any other 150 year stretch of history.

From an American history context, St. Paul’s was founded the year BEFORE the civil war started. South Carolina was the first state to secede from the union in 1960.
In the context of all that had happened over the course of the past 150 years, it is no doubt cause for celebration to bear witness to a house of worship standing firm through all the chaos that humanity has made. How comforting to know that despite the vastness of the depravity of man, the steadfastness of God’s provision proves out over time.

As usual, on Tuesday evening I had managed to both be running behind and get lost on the way to the church. I have learned that my timing and timeliness is perpetually thwarted by my overconfidence in my ability to get around London. Even routes that are proving to be quite traditional in my life here are confounded with near perfection. Perhaps there’s wisdom to be gathered from that.

Despite my frustration, I have found a sense of determination here to not let the obstacles of life distract my desire to experience things, especially those that are rich with meaning or are at least new off the beaten path tidbits for both proving lend themselves to interesting days and nights here. Tuesday in particular felt like more of a fight, but I convinced myself that it is impossible rationalize sitting at home to quietly read alone versus going to a celebration, let alone one of the type that I might never see or experience again.

After my round about journey I arrived only a few minutes late, which probably proved to my benefit in a lot of ways. You must realize that St. Paul’s is a small, traditional English church building. It is probably just as you imagine it. On the inside, a small foyer leads to the sanctuary and contains stairwells on both sides leading to the gallery seating above. The sanctuary has been stripped of its pews but the old wood beams and rafters are in their strong, dark original form. And of course behind the alter at the front of the room a large stain glass window. It is a far cry from the new mega-churches that are prevalent in the states, and I must say that the down-sizing has proven quite refreshing. So given the more “traditional” church size, it would turn out that seats, and even standing room were in short supply; the place was full to the brim.

It is amazing to see a body of people visibly hungry to get in on the action…I guess it makes on consider what their appetite is really geared towards.

As I was pointed to the upper gallery seating, it was readily apparent that the old bones of St. Paul’s were full of life. I can’t recall even in the past years if I’ve been to a music event or performance that was quite so full with people reeling just to be able to see and get a taste of the action. This goes without to mention, I’ve never been to a worship service with such fanfare…
The celebratory atmosphere was palpable, and sadly but appropriately different from traditional Sunday worship. Although the mandate to celebrate the living work of God is and was no different, it felt so much easier to do so when snapped out of a weekly routine, I mean, we were celebrating 150 years of worship. After the music concluded and the program had begun, an abbreviated version of the churches history was presented to the congregation with dabs of musical performances and other media pieces to supplement the archived vintage footage of old London.

Despite all the enchantment of the history of the church and the announcement of the attendance of a number of impressive vicars who have served well into their 80’s ensure the church’s survival. My attention span began to duck in and out as I considered the context of this great legacy and what it could mean in my life. To think that a group of people bound together by a common mission 150 years ago created a legacy of love and life change. I’m sure that there were mistakes and blunders along the way, but above all the mission prevailed. You may think and believe what you want about God and church, but it is important to consider the implications of our legacies in this world are given increasing significance with time.

A small change in the course of humanity today, can over the long run create radical change.
Its hard in those moments not to consider where I’m investing, what I’ll leave behind when I go. It’s impossible not to consider if I’m making choices, even the small ones, that could make this world radically different.

It now, for me, is easy to see the significance of investing in both institutions that create the right legacies as well as making decisions, loving people, and living in a way that in the same breath thoughtfully provokes change and is open to change in the hopes that down the line those little course corrections can result in markedly better reality.

As I wandered back home in the crisp evening night, somehow lost again, I couldn’t have been more pleased that I didn’t let my physical disorientation interfere with my spiritual orientation…no matter where it is or where you are, it's the here and now that starts the change.

Yes, I did have to look up sesquicentennial.
CP

Wilderness.

"...make a radical change in your lifestyle and begin to boldly do things which you may previously never have thought of doing, or been too hesitant to attempt. So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservation, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. If you want to get more out of life, you must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life that will at first appear to you to be crazy. But once you become accustomed to such a life you will see its full meaning and its incredible beauty."

Letter from Chris McCandless
John Krakauer – Into the Wild.

So for a little more than a week now I’ve begun making London my home. Amidst the searching for homes, meetings, disorientation, and all the other things that naturally are a part of the process of immigrating. I have been enamored by how deep in the throes of this wild city I’ve been thrown. Prior to leaving the states I coincidentally was provided a few tidbits of adventurer’s morale, one of which came from a letter written by Chris McCandless as presented in the book Into the Wild (quoted above). If you know the story you might think following the spirit of such a wayfarer might be misguided, but despite the ultimate detriment of his journey, McCandless had the right heart towards the wild spaces of this life, however poorly they manifested.

If you don’t know the story check it out here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_McCandless

Over the past few days, the wildness of this city has been remarkable to take in. My life in Texas was far from ordinary, and probably to the naked eye spontaneous and uncalculated, but if I have learned much in these first days it is how calculated and tame my life used to be. Over the course of a decade in the south, I had slowly concocted a network of security, comfort, and seamless execution of my life and my desires. And as my comfort and my processes became more refined, the deeper entrenched I became; it is this very type of attachment that inhibits us all too often, it is the comfort the predictability that is hard to let go of. At the end of the day, McCandless’s undoing was not his desire to break free from the soul constraining process of routine, but rather it was his pursuit of liberation through destitution and isolation.

All this to say, London for me is as untamed and wild, a place which over the course of no more than 7 days time has managed to disrupt a decade of patterns and predictability. It has been amazing to see what such a short stretch of time can do to see the world as a vastly different place.

As I’ve begun to process these thoughts, I was sitting in the UK immigration office, and fittingly this place couldn’t be riper with God’s great creation. Though frustrating as it may be, the scents of this diverse place, and the sounds of crying (read, screaming) children, this is nature, wild and untamed. Amidst the cold and sterile rows of the blue painted metal benches, sit dozens of warm bodies blooming with life, wild, and of themselves wilderness. The irony is that this simple ballet of lifeless processes, forms, stamps, and fees has for itself generated quite a remarkable collection of life.

I’m very quickly learning that the illusion of control in my life has been quickly dispelled by life here in London, for there is no amount of planning, calculation, will, effort, or resources that can prevent the circumstances of this city from having their way with you. Much of the unpredictability and I love about the natural wilderness I am learning to love about the urban wilderness to which I have been thrust. The sheer size of this city is beyond the grasps of my control, and so I’m learning to surrender all the more each day, and with this has come a sense of appreciation and enjoyment that I might not be able to possess. Each day an infinitely new adventure…

As I’ve been thumbing the pages of the Krakauer chronicle of McCandless’s story I’ve come to understand Alexander “Supertramp” (Chris McCandlesses’s self adopted moniker) as a kindered spirit in some respects, and in the bit’s and pieces that were gathered in his wake, I’ve been left to consider the wilderness I am in, and the wilderness I am invited to explore as I begin this chapter of my life.

I do believe that nature, and isolation can radically change our perspective on the modern world, yet only to the extent that we allow our the perspective that the natural wild provides to drive us to engage the civilized wilderness in which we must live. Being alone in the natural spaces of creation does a great wonder of right sizing our perspective on where we fit, but that perspective is useless if it does implore us to engage humanity on Christ’s behalf. Chris McCandless’s plight was not a pursuit of wilderness, but the confusion of wilderness and solitude with isolation and desolation.

Christ in fact began his ministry in natural wilderness for 40 days, and then from there, he went to engage the wilderness of humanity. He did it through wild love, untamed, unbridled…and it is just about the only thing that could rescue and redeem the wild and deep depravity that the modern heart/mind might find. And thus the true wilderness is humanity, and to go into the wild we mustn’t withdraw carelessly into the barren caverns of isolation, but we must dive further still into the human heart, into the wild places of our souls that long so deeply to be loved and to know love as true in this dangerous world.

I am now more than ever convinced that the world will only be changed by wild radical love. It is how Christ loves us, it was not without cost, it was not safe. But it was the only thing that could in a single breath bind us to something great and set us free, to make us wild as we were intended to be.

I do so deeply hope that this place, this great wilderness, will not let my heart grow bitter or cold in the slightest. It seems that the interferences of this wild place, the inconveniences, the natural elements of humanity in proximity to itself, and the disruption and interference on our daily course could pose as daunting for me, but yet I’m learning to surrender my clock work agenda to be able to deal with the incalculable disturbances to my “plans”. If you’ve ever swum in a flowing river, you most certainly found that the easiest and safest way to navigate a river’s rapids is not to fight against the current, but rather to use the river’s strength as your own and to go with the flow. But rather I hope I find instead of bitterness and frustration, opportunities each day to love and live wildly and radically.

I’m learning much, to embrace this uncalculated wilderness as my home. I’m learning to trust that my daily will be provided. To patiently, yet tactfully engage with the chaos that each day may bring.

I leave you with a few lines from one of my favorite poems by Robert Service; who wrote much about the Alaskan Wilderness that did McCandless in. Service, a banker by trade, became one of the many men captivated by the great white northern wilderness of the Yukon territory…I love his presentation of the two wildernesses…both cold, both hard, both dangerous…but only one needs redeeming.

“I'm scared of it all, God's truth! so I am;
It's too big and brutal for me.
My nerve's on the raw and I don't give a damn
For all the "hoorah" that I see.
I'm pinned between subway and overhead train,
Where automobillies swoop down:
Oh, I want to go back to the timber again --
I'm scared of the terrible town.

I want to go back to my lean, ashen plains;
My rivers that flash into foam;
My ultimate valleys where solitude reigns;
My trail from Fort Churchill to Nome.
My forests packed full of mysterious gloom,
My ice-fields agrind and aglare:
The city is deadfalled with danger and doom --
I know that I'm safer up there.

I watch the wan faces that flash in the street;
All kinds and all classes I see.
Yet never a one in the million I meet,
Has the smile of a comrade for me.
Just jaded and panting like dogs in a pack;
Just tensed and intent on the goal:
O God! but I'm lonesome -- I wish I was back,
Up there in the land of the Pole. “

- Robert Service; I’m Scared of it all – Full version here Here

Its also to important to note, that after nearly 100 days alone in the wild, McCandless ventured to leave his wilderness home and go back to life in human civiliazation realizing, that "happiness isn't real unless its shared"

Getting Wild,
CP
http://chrispanoff.blogspot.com

Intersected

The past few weeks have been an utter whirlwind for me, on top of a mixed bag of personal things, I am heading into a major intersection in my life. Tomorrow afternoon I board a plane to move to London for the next six months for my job, and despite all the eager anticipation I have had for the forthcoming changes I have been a little fixated on the past. I haven’t been having regret or remorse in any fashion, but rather a sincere heart of thankfulness for all the Lord has afforded me in my life.

Intersections are a tremendous opportunity to regain our bearings, realign our focus, and to make sure the course we’re traveling is in fact heading the right direction. As I’ve been pondering what lies ahead, I’ve found that in front of me is nothing but uncertainty, I have no place to live, I’ve never been to London actually, I don’t really know anyone there, the only thing I’m certain of is that I’m going. As much as I’ve tried to imagine what my life will look like in the coming weeks, all my thoughts produce an ever-blank canvas and this is what makes it such a glorious adventure. I heard it said in a film I saw recently that the very element that makes adventure, by nature, an adventure is the presence of uncertainty. Only when there is fear can we be brave, and only when there is uncertainty can we trust.

Despite my best efforts to assure the footing of what is to come, I’ve found that there is really nothing in my hands that I can do fortify confidence in the days ahead. So rather, I’ve had an opportunity to look at where I’ve been and God’s rich provision over the course of my history with him despite some of my glorious attempts to mess it up whether on purpose or on accident. As I’ve surveyed the landscape of the past years I’ve seen a vast expansiveness covered by the grace of a loving benevolent God who loves me so dearly and has provided for me and protected me at every turn. I’ve see a cast of characters who he knew would love me well, and have spurred me on to charge boldly forward in this life. I’ve seen valley’s that at moments seemed so dark, drowned by the mountains of love and redemption. And I really don’t think I’m overdramatizing the magnitude, if anything there are probably millions of things I’ve missed , the little moments of goodness and sovereignty that God has woven into my life each day. And it is with this confidence that the large uncertainty of the adventure ahead dwindles from a mountain to a molehill.

What’s amazing is that in the context all this the uncertainty is no more certain and I am no more brave, but instead I’m afforded confidence not in what is ahead, but confidence in the fact that no matter what it is God’s provision for me will sustain me. With the great adventures of this life we are seldom given the benefit of “knowing” but instead we are given the opportunity to know God, and walk with him. It is perhaps sad that I must continually have my grip on this world and this life loosened, but maybe it’s simply testament to how much we try cling to of this world. And maybe that is my provision for today, to have a lighter load so that I may move more nimbly down the path ahead.

The other thing I cannot neglect to mention is the impact I have seen over the past few weeks of simple, purposeful love. It is sometimes hard to see the huge ways that love changes this world, and for whatever reason I’ve been both reaffirmed in the power of being loved by so many great people, and what meaningful work it really is to love people genuinely and faithfully in Christ no matter what may come.

I, in my own opinion, could not be a more blessed man, yet somehow the riches of God’s grace, mercy, and love seem to surprise me more each day, and it is in that love that I can confidently go forward into all the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Richly loved,
CP

New Chapters

This past weekend, I took some time away to invest in myself, rejuvenate, detach, rethink, and process through a number of things that have happened in my life over the past months. Obviously I’ve taken an extended leave of absence from investing in my writing here online, so I thought that this would be an appropriate time to post a few thoughts that have been circling around my head. Being that it has been so long I need to lay a little ground work before I can get to the punch line in terms of what this all means for me and my life…and this specific investment of my time.

In September, right around the time I wrote my last post I had just finished completing an annual plan for myself. The process I went through was far more comprehensive than simply a list of goals or things I want to “get done” in my life, that was for sure a part of it, but more than that it was a plan. The “plan” addressed a number of key components of life, the investment of my time, the investment of my energy, the key sources of my satisfaction, key actions, key risks, and a few big picture items that should be my self-defined focus points for the next year. It’s interesting what a few months of distance can do for your perspective on yourself, especially when you have a clear cut document to trace back to. September me, had a few things right, namely my big picture focus, my self-identified risks, my key actions…however my approach to the rest of the plan was off the mark, and I realized this weekend that my efforts and desires have experienced a disconnect in the past year. This realization isn’t earth shattering, but it has provided a great deal of insight into the areas of my life which have been lacking effectiveness. In some areas my underlying motives were spot on, but the complementary actions were not well suited for the motive, in other areas the actions were right but the motive was mis-defined.

For example, in September I thought I really wanted to make an investment to get back into endurance racing, I had a list of actions and targets I wanted to accomplish, but this weekend I realized that I don’t really care so much about racing right now, what I care about is my well-being, and a huge part of my physical, mental, and spiritual well-being is not derived from racing, but derived from being disciplined and consistent about getting “me” time out on the open road. I need endurance therapy every week, it quiets my mind and heart, re-centers me, and blows off an adequate amount of my irrational steam and makes an otherwise wildly insatiable man, calm (relatively). My actions were right, I need to invest time in my fitness within certain boundaries, my motives were off, its because I enjoy it, and because it makes me a better me.

What has been revealing through this weekend of self reflection is that unless my motives and actions are aligned, I am much less effective…whether it be in my spiritual life, in relationships, or fitness…a disconnection of the why and what in our lives can be really frustrating. This revelation has given me the opportunity to rethink where I’m applying energy in my life and why.

Sparing you the detailed prognosis and subsequent change of plans, I’ve realized that I really needed this weekend to reset and refocus some things in my life. It’s amazing when you turn off the TV, unplug the laptop from the internet, how still life can become and how salient otherwise dulled factors in our lives can be. As I’ve sat here this morning watching the sunrise over the eastern sky in Tucson, I think I’ve finished shedding some necessary dead weight in my life. I probably don’t write about it here very often but I have some really petty and stupid coping mechanisms in my life that are faithless and fear based that need to be in check. This weekend I’ve been able to leave some garbage behind that has kept certain areas of my life and my heart from leaping forward the way I’ve been made to do. It’s strange, that as the things we often keep around in our lives to keep us comfortable are the very things that keep us from being fully alive. For me it was a series of thought patterns, actions, and people that I had been keeping around to make me feel comfortable…but what I realized is that I had traded comfort for being fully myself. Sometimes, things start to feel good where we are in life, and we get attached to ideas, actions, or people not because they are what’s best, but because they simply are…ie I gravitate towards what is convenient. And as scary as it can be to break free from that, the liberation and possibility that lies in the unknown far exceeds the monotony and predictability of comfort.

When I started this project, “The Open Book” I wanted a platform to share me with you. It was never intended to be Panoff expository on the way to live and other spiritual matters, though I confess maybe it became that in some ways. As I’ve taken a break, and some time to asses a few critical aspects of my life, I added one risk to my list of pitfalls to avoid, and that is spreading myself to thin. I have a lot of things that pull my attention span around each day, and I’ve realized that I’ve indulged too many of those thoughts, I’ve realized I’ve spread myself thin. This tendency is honestly fear driven, and I think the reality is that for me I allow myself to make little investments in a lot of areas because its less risky. Its far easier for me say I could hypothetically qualify for the Ironman in Hawaii, become an award winning writer, be a master composer, cure cancer, learn to fly, and learn to speak Mandarin Chinese…IF I only had the time and applied the energy…the hard choice that I am making is to say, “here we go, come hell or high water I am going to pursue this with my whole heart, and if I fail…at least I know it wasn’t for lack of effort”

God made me with a really big heart and really big dreams, for those of you who know me well you know this to be true. So for now, for me, I’m making some choices to leave a lot of comfort behind and truly pursue some big things for me. And for the time being that means I’m going to reapply my efforts in writing to a new medium…yes I’ll still be writing, just differently, in different ways, with a renewed and rejuvenated purpose. My intent, to live a life that is an open book, is very much the same, and for that reason I wanted to write what will be my last post for a while (yeah I may dabble here and there).

I can’t express enough how enriched I have been through this process, a man left to his own thoughts will surely go mad, so whether or not anyone still reads here, I guess this is not farewell, but see you later, and maybe this one was for me to have closure and to take a definitive step in new direction, or maybe take a step in the same direction with a new purpose. Thank you for letting me share a portion of my life with you all…there is so much more to come…just in new ways.

Get out there and live,
CP
chrispanoff.blogspot.com