Matt W Cook

writer.former fundamentalist.christianly fellow

Category: musings

June 19, 2014

Ten Years of Marriage

I wonder what I’m supposed to write about. What I’ve learned?

As if that’s what marriage is for—learning things.

That’s not to say I haven’t learned anything.

I’ve learned how to listen. I’ve learned how to own different points of view. I’ve learned the awesome power of forgiveness, mindfulness, and red wine. I’ve learned tons of shit.

If there were a test at the end of this marriage, I’d ace it.

I love tests.

But marriage isn’t about learning.

Should I write a defense of marriage?

That’d be fashionable.

But why?

There’s nothing good in marriage itself.

It’s where good and bad can find a place.

I found good. Lots of people don’t.

Marriage isn’t a thing that needs defending.

Heck, it isn’t a thing at all. It’s a convention. A label. Something we made up.

It’s a life-long club for two people.

Most exclusive club around. Our home is our clubhouse. We get to pick all the rules. We do awesome projects, like growing children into existence and perfecting the Nacho. Membership benefits include coronary love, soul-tickling intimacy, raucous sex.

And a friend who won’t quit on me.

No matter how much I change. No matter how much she changes.

So I don’t know what I should blog about on our anniversary.

But ten years ago I stood, pale and shaking, in front of nearly everyone I knew and I made a deal to be Ruth’s live-together, bonk-together, stay-together-until-death-do-us-part friend.

I had no idea what I was in for.

Ten years later, I still have no idea what I’m in for.

Hey Ruth, It’s been fun so far. Wanna keep it up until we die? I’m in if you are.

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June 17, 2014

If I ever start blogging again

Blogging seems presumptuous, doesn’t it? I know everyone is very busy, yet I throw up a page of scribblings for you to read. I assume that whatever I have to say is more interesting, or at least more useful, than whatever else you could be doing with the time it takes to read my 300 words.

Blogging used to be a mission. I had insights I thought were universal. I had insights I thought were salvific. I had a responsibility to share them as best I could, as honestly as I could.

What’s the point of blogging when the mission is over? Does it turn into something petty? Another opportunity to put myself in the centre of attention?

I guess. But it’s not just that. I don’t think it’s even mostly that.

I have seen and heard beautiful things. Ideas and stories that are worth talking about, arguing about. Stories and ideas that make me smile right down into my heart. And more than anything, I want to share. It’s fun to shape these thoughts into text. It’s fun to think that others might read and grow a similar smile. It’s fun to hope that someone could read my words and offer some of their own in return.

If I ever start blogging again, it’s because I’m presumptuous enough to think my scribbles are worth your time. They might not be. But they’re certainly worth mine.

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May 21, 2014

What Martha and the thief missed

It’s fun that Jesus uses plain, simple speech. He generally leaves the sophisticated arguments to others. Simple and hard–some nearly too hard.

Give to the one who begs of you
If forced to go one mile, go two
If you are sued for your shirt, give up your coat, too.
If someone breaks in a tries to steal your TV, make sure they take the right remote with it.

This all seems too radical to pull off. I know a lot of people who say Jesus never really meant it the way it seems like he said it—that’s how heavy it is. Like ideals made for another world.
One day Jesus was visiting Martha and Mary. Mary hung out with him while Martha cooked and cleaned and played the proper host. It was a lot of work. Martha tried to get Jesus to tell Mary to help. Reasonable. Lots of work to be done.

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed, or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better.”

Soto monk and hermit Ryokan (1758-1831) was a strange one. One night he came home to discover a thief—even though there was nothing in his tiny hut to steal. Ryokan didn’t feel right about sending a guest away empty-handed, so he gave the thief the clothes he was wearing. Meditating later, naked in his empty hut, he looked up at the night sky and wrote a haiku.

The thief left it behind:
The moon
At my window.

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January 22, 2014

Strange seas of Thought, alone.

And from my pillow, looking forth by light
Of moon or favouring stars, I could behold
The antechapel where the statue stood
Of Newton with his prism and silent face,
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.

– William Wordsworth.  
Prelude (Book III), 1850

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December 21, 2013

The thing about Christmas

Jesus was a revolutionist.  I guess that word is loaded.  I usually think about people like Che Guevara when I hear it.  It’s hard to see how the same word can apply to gentle Jesus, meek and mild.  But it does.  Because Jesus started a dramatic and wide-reaching change.  The world is a better place because of him.  Sure, there have been horrendous things done by people who thought they were working on his behalf.  But I bet they would have done those horrendous things anyway.  They’d have just found some other figure or religion to justify them.

For me, Christmas is still a time to celebrate Jesus.  Because no matter what I think about who Jesus “really was,” he’ll always be the first one who showed me how someone can love their enemies and stop grasping the fleeting wealth and vapoury things of the world.  He’ll always be the first one who showed me that real love is bigger and scarier than I could have imagined.  He lived the path of love so wonderfully that it killed him.  And the miracle of it was that he made it all seem worth it.

So I still celebrate Jesus, in my own little way.  I still keep Christ in Christmas.  Not by shouting his name or correcting people when they say Happy Holidays.  I do it by being thankful that he walked the earth and shared his ideas.  I do it by taking his ideas as my own and doing my part toward bringing the Kingdom of Heaven (as I understand it) to earth.  And when I do that, Christmas isn’t a burden.  Because it’s not about gifts and shopping.  It’s a loud and boisterous reminder of a gentle and subversive teacher who wanted to turn the world upside-down with love.

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December 14, 2013

The things I’m grateful for today

I’ve come to believe that grateful appreciation is one of the keys to happiness.  And the nicest thing about grateful appreciation is that I can do it any time, no matter what.  It’s easy to make a list of the things that make me grateful today.

  • For Joe, who came into our room when he heard Dev wake up, just to take him into the living room so Ruth and I could get a few more minutes of sleep.
  • For Asha, who came in shortly after to wake us up by crawling all over us, just like kids in the movies do.
  • For Dev, who is determined to figure out how to stand up without support, no matter how many times he falls.
  • For Ruth, who shared my breakfast and my journey in the snow.  Who always shares my meals and journeys.

Those are just the obvious ones.  But when I’m mindful, every moment is full of things to appreciate.

  • The challenge of study and exams.
  • The dense snowfall, making  my walks downtown other-worldly.
  • The frigid wind that bites my face.
  • The way the dancing snow only sticks to the parts of the trees where two branches meet.
  • The sense of triumph when I finally arrive at Robarts Library.
  • The standing in line with other shivering, studying students aching for coffee.
  • The smell of the Reading Room.
  • The view from my cubicle.
  • The feel of the keyboard under my fingers.

This is where happiness is: mindfulness in each moment.  Recognizing that each moment is the best moment.  That Today is always the very best day.

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December 12, 2013

The thing about Reason

They tell me that I should not rely on my Reason.  It’s faulty, after all.  Prone to bias and laziness.  It’s a good point.  But what should I rely on, then?  Which rule is higher or more reliable than my Reason?

The Absolute is higher.  That it makes sense.  There’s nothing Absolute about me.  So I’ll never be Absolutely right on my own.

But where is the Absolute?  Well, that depends on who I ask.

When I ask the religious friend, they point to God.  Rather, they use their Book to point to God.  Makes sense.  But how can I know that the Book is from / pointing to the Absolute?  I can only see one way of justifying a Book: by weighing and judging it through my imperfect but thoroughly lovely Reason.

Sure, I suppose I could engage it through other faculties.  A friend once told me he trusted his Book because of the positive spiritual feeling it gave him when he read it.  But I get similar feelings when I listen to Matt Redman, Noah and the Whale, and the Portal 2 soundtrack.

Others have told me to engage the Book with Faith.  I’ve never been clear on what that means.  It sounds like accepting something with the kind of trust a child might have.  If that were a good route I’d just accept whatever Book I was first given.

No, it’s my Reason that needs to be convinced that a certain Book or Word comes from the Absolute.

My Reason isn’t perfect.  It’s like a sharp tool.  It’ll hurt me if I use it wrong.  It’ll dull if I use it wrong.  I’ve misused it in the past, I expect I’ll misuse it in the future.  I’d wager I’m misusing it in some way now.  Sure.  But it seems to be one of the best tools I have.  And using it clumsily is better than not using it at all.

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December 6, 2013

The thing about binary watches

I have a binary watch. It serves the dual purpose of making me look cool and helping my addition skills. It also frustrates the mind out of me. Which is good. Because when I get frustrated trying to read my watch, I usually give up and realize, hey, time is all made up anyway and it doesn’t really matter if I’m late.

I’m like Gandalf, now. Never late, never early, I show up right when I intend to.

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December 3, 2013

Some of the best writing

Late, as usualIt’s right after you thought about going to bed. You decide to squeeze in an hour of Skyrim. Then your mind wanders a bit—the game can’t hold it. It drifts toward to that thing you’re writing. You pause the game to brew a cup of herbal. While the water’s on, you grab your manuscript and flip it open to the next bit to work on. You read it for a bit. You’re not planning to do anything with it tonight, of course. You’ve already filled your daily quota. But there’s something sticky about it. When you touch it, it’s hard to put it down. You grab a pen and make a few notes in the margin. Just a scribble. But then the scribble takes off on its own. Before you know it, you’re in the chair with the too-bright desk lamp shining on your wonderful doings. You’ve got a paragraph and a half done and your face takes on that goofy blank you get when something grabs you. And there’s something else going on. A smile plays at the corner of your mouth. You’re not just making the thing anymore. You’re consuming it. You’re not just writing the story. You’re reading it and enjoying the hell out of it. When the kettle on the stove whistles, you jump in surprise, then run to get it so you can get back to the desk before you miss anything.

You don’t get to bed until late. But you sleep wonderfully.

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November 20, 2013

The thing about people who are wrong on the Internet

There’s a voice in my head that doesn’t like it when I ignore people who are wrong.  It pops up a lot, because I tend to do Internet a lot.

I used to feel it was my duty to let people know how wrong they were.  Especially when it seemed like everyone else was applauding their wrongness.  After all, if I don’t tell them that they’re wrong, how will they ever know?  They’ll just keep sitting there, being wrong.  On the Internet!  Out in the open where everyone can see them!

Heaven forbid, after all, someone be wrong about something.

I recently finished watching Silver Linings Playbook.  I thought it was going to be about sports or something.  It’s not.  It’s about about how batshit-crazy we all are.  It’s about how each and every one of us has our ridiculous delusions.  And it’s about about how that might be okay.  And how maybe, instead of trying to rip each other’s delusions away, we should relax, and take note of our own.

As if I had something to teach those wrong people cluttering up the Internet.  Sure, I can point out the logical inconsistencies in this one post, or the incorrect assumptions that prompt this other post.  But what does that teach?  What is the use of winning an argument if it doesn’t help me or others enjoy life more?

So I don’t worry when people on the Internet are wrong.  And I don’t bother challenging them.

Unless, of course, it seems like it would be fun.  Then I jump right in.

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