Matt W Cook

writer.former fundamentalist.christianly fellow

Month: March, 2014

March 6, 2014

Hey Ruth, I didn’t get anything done.

I had it all prepared, though. I had a mental list of all the things that needed to get done today. I decided to rush off to University right after dropping Asha at school. I’d get there more than an hour before my first class. Tons of time to get things done.

I had to make breakfast quickly. Then Asha woke up wet, so she needed a bath and the sheets needed to be changed. Then we seemed to lose one of each and every glove in the house (now she’s wearing a red mitten on one hand and a black glove on the other). We were almost late to school. But I kept my plan to get things done intact. I went straight to the subway station and squeezed into a train. I hadn’t seen them this crowded in ages. I felt close to you then, thinking about how squished the buses and vans in Pakistan are.  But finally I made it. I found an empty library and fell into a chair. I had plenty of time still.

Good looking fellow, eh?

But in the tyranny of getting things done, I wrecked myself. I sat in the library with an exhausted and scattered mind. I got sick like you know I sometimes do when I overdo things. I could have pushed myself a little more, but it would have made me miserable and it would have made the work shitty.

What irrational things I do in order to get things done! As if getting things done was the purpose of my birth. As if I could ever get anything done. There will always be another book to write, another essay to draft, another text to read. There is no end to the things I have to get done. So why go crazy over it? Why sully my life with stress?

I gave up and bought a coffee. Then I remembered that I’m not here to get things done. I’m not really here for anything. I’m just here. And since I’m here, I might as well do.

It was easier after that. Because instead of trying to get it all done, I just spent what time I had doing. It’s not the end of the work that I’m after (that will never come). I’m just enjoying the doing of it. So I opened up my Michel de Montaigne text and this lovely passage noticed me:

I want Death to find me planting my cabbages, neither worrying about it nor the unfinished gardening.

Have a fourth day that does without worrying about getting it done, Ruth. I’ll say Hey again tomorrow.

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March 5, 2014

Hey Ruth, I registered the kids for swimming

It’s neat being alone with a single child. You know the pulsating mass of primal energy that we are accustomed to: Children. Children are hard to deal with. Impossible to control. Kinda crazy. Most folks figure there’s one way to deal with children: Control. Correct. Coerce.

But now it’s really quiet. And instead of a mass of children, I see Asha. And since the the backdrop of chaos is gone, I can look into her eyes when she speaks to me. And I can see that she really her own person, distinct and independent from me. A person with internal, unspoken thoughts and desires and urges.

I think there’s only one way to deal with a person, and it has nothing to do with control. The golden rule still cannot be beat: Do as you’d be done by. Asha (and Joe and Dev) is a thoughtful, willful, powerfully complex person. If I were that kind of person, I’d want the people I lived with to look at me. To treat me like a peer–a fellow sentient being stumbling through existence. I’d want the people in my house to listen when I spoke, and to speak with me in return. I’d want to feel included and accepted and I’d want to have the freedom to withdraw when I chose. I’d want a place where I didn’t have to feel ashamed for the things I thought and felt. And I’d want those who’s been around longer than I to let me in on whatever they’d figured out so far.

I’m preaching to the choir, of course. In the midst of children, you are the one who remembers they are people–peers. And I’m so glad that you do. It’s a little crazy to treat children like peers. But, in the words of Michel de Montaigne:

A man must be a little mad if he does not want to be even more stupid.

Have a child-like third day, Ruth. I’ll say Hey again tomorrow.

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March 4, 2014

Hey Ruth, I guess you’ve arrived.

Must have been a long flight, eh? It’ll be worth it. And even if the trip over was really bad, I bet you earned a couple cool stories, at least.

Avatar1Asha and I had a good day. You know that Golden Avatar record I love that everyone else hates? It turns out Asha loves it, too. And without the baby to worry about, we can crank the volume pretty loud. I hope the neighbours don’t mind 70s Jazz Rock / Fusion.

It’s about 5:30am in Karachi. I hope you and Joe and Dev are asleep. I hope it’s a great sleep that drains away the stress of travel. I think travel mostly feels like a burden when we’re obsessed with the place we’re getting to. We forget that wherever we are is a pretty good place.

There’s a long drive ahead of you when you wake up. I bet it’ll be a crowded one, too. I remember going down that long highway between Karachi and the Interior. I always wanted to stop the car and get out for a little walk in the wide and rocky emptiness. But we were so concerned with getting to point B that we figured nothing along the way would be interesting.

You’ve got a lot of wonderful plans for wonderful things to see while you’re there. I hope you don’t forget that there are wonderful things to see no matter where you are. On a highway to Hyderabad. In a slummy hostel in Saddar. Everywhere you look.

I have arrived–I am home.

My destination is in each step.

Have a mindful second day, Ruth. I’ll say Hey again tomorrow.

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March 3, 2014

Hey Ruth

Hey Ruth.

It felt weird right when you and the boys slipped out of sight in the terminal. I looked down at Asha and she looked up at me. She felt it to. We decided the best way to deal with the weirdness was to go home and play video games. I might have fed her chips for dinner. But we had rice for desert, so that balances things out.

The house was quiet when she went to bed. No sounds except the humming of the heater. And the cars going up and down Bloor. And the karaoke party next door. Very quiet for Toronto. I’d be sitting on the floor talking with you right now, if you were here. I’m trying to think of what we’d be talking about. Or would we be finally beating Act II in Diablo? Or sipping wine to scratchy vinyls? Or furiously doing dishes and making lunches for tomorrow so we can collapse in bed sometime before midnight? Whatever we’d be doing, it would have been fun, eh?

I bet you’re beat right now. Urdu meh suffar hai, aur angrezi meh bhi suffer hai, na? Someone at the karaoke party just started belting out A Whole New World. I like the part where Jasmine is getting overwhelmed with the magic carpet right and Aladdin says,

Don’t you dare close your eyes.

Hold your breath, it gets better.

Have a strong first day of your trip, Ruth. I’ll say Hey again tomorrow.

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