Matt W Cook

September 23, 2014

A Clear Pool of Water

The pool of water was supposed to be calm and clear. I was sure of that. How else was I supposed to see through to the bottom? But the surface bobbed with ripples from the pebbles that children had been throwing in. Misty sediment polluted my vision. It was a mess. And it was up to me to calm that pool down.

I watched the ripples carefully. Timed everything as best I could. Then I started throwing carefully-chosen pebbles into the pond to counter-act the ripples.

I know, I know, it sounds stupid to get rid of ripples by creating more ripples. But that’s where I’m educated and you aren’t. I’ve taken physics, you see. And I know how to use waves to annihilate waves.

Theoretically.

I’m pretty sure I disassembled the waves caused by those stupid kids. But maybe I over-compensated a bit with my own pebbles, because there was still distortion. But I still figured the best thing was to fight fire with fire. I examined and thought and manipulated and threw more pebbles.

I’m still throwing pebbles, and I think I’m making progress. But I can’t stand the asshat in the next pool.

His pool was wavy and clouded, too. More so than mine, if you ask me. But instead of doing the hard work, instead of fixing it the honest way, he just sat there.

And watched.
As the ripples fell away.
And his pond turned clear and serene.

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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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May 30, 2014

Richard Feynman on Everything

There are the rushing waves
mountains of molecules
each stupidly minding its own business
trillions apart
yet forming white surf in unison.

Ages on ages
before any eyes could see
year after year
thunderously pounding the shore as now.
For whom, for what?
On a dead planet
With no life to entertain.

Never at rest
Tortured by energy
wasted prodigiously by the sun
poured into space
A mite makes the sea roar.

Deep in the sea
all molecules repeat
the patterns on one another
till complex new ones are formed.
They makes others like themselves
and a new dance starts.

Growing in size and complexity
living things
masses of atoms
DNA, protein
dancing a pattern ever more intricate.

Out of the cradle
onto dry land
here is is
standing:
atoms with consciousness;
matter with curiosity.

Stands at the sea,
wonders at wondering: I
a universe of atoms
an atom in the universe.

– Richard Feynman, from his lecture, The Value of Science

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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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April 12, 2014

Song of Myself – Walt Whitman

Excerpt from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself

In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less,
And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.

I know I am solid and sound,
To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow,
All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.

I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child’s carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.

I know I am august,
I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood,
I see that the elementary laws never apologize,
(I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.)

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.

One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.

My foothold is tenon’d and mortis’d in granite,
I laugh at what you call dissolution,
And I know the amplitude of time.

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March 27, 2014

Hey Ruth, you’re coming home.

I bet you’ll be reading this during your billion-hour layover at JFK. There’s nothing worse than being bored, so here’s some things that you can do to occupy your time:

Watch Nyan Cat.

The Nyan cat is Zen. She is absurd, yet there she is. She speaks, yet she makes no sense. And that’s okay because you’re in an airport and the only reason you are there is to leave.

Watch Frozen’s Let it Go

The only problem with this song is how long is lives in your head once you’ve heard it. But I figure it wouldn’t be bad for you to have a song stuck in your head right now. You’ve got nothing else to do, right?

Watch Strangers

It’s not creepy. See, this lady even videos when she people watches. And she makes it look classy. You totally look classier when you people watch, though.

Talk to Strangers

I remember having great talks with strangers in airports. Everyone there is as bored as you, and I bet they’d love it if you said ‘hi.’

Watch a Movie

Here’s the iconic Khabi Khushi Khabie Gham, starring basically everyone in Bollywood. The first Bollywood movie I ever saw.

Listen to an Alan Watts Lecture

Partially for the zen, but mostly for the soothing British voice telling you that nothing’s worth worrying about.

And if all else fails:

Watch the Infinite Nyan Cat

Not truly infinite, of course. Ten hours is the limit that any computer is willing to loop this video.

There you go, Ruth. I hope that burns a couple hours for you.

Anything else I’d like to say is better said when you get here.

See you soon.

I’ll see you soon.

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March 23, 2014

Hey Ruth, the Crazy is over

It’s all done, more or less. Sure there’s exams still, but that’s a month away. And I have a couple Physics assignments, but they’re pretty tiny. Other than that, it’s all more or less done.

But then the dry erase markers didn’t erase…

I like the crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t pick it. It’s like the guy from Wolf of Wall Street said, “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor. Guess what? I’d choose rich every time.” I don’t think I’d ever choose the crazy. But I’m glad it happens–every once in a while. It’s like a workout.

The first thing to take down was Psychology. The text is thick. For Monday’s midterm we had to know 300 pages of it, plus anything from the four 3-hour lectures we’d had since our last test. You should have seen the crowd in the exam building ten minutes before the test started. These poor kids were terrified. Most of them were staring at hand-scribbled study sheets, trying to cram one or two extra units of info before the horror.

I, of course, owned the test. And I did it with a smile. That’s part of the solution to the crazy right there–a smile. It can be fun. The test essay doesn’t have to be this horrendous thing that I’m forced to endure. It could be a project I’ve been asked to build.

I had my eye on this test for a while. I was disappointed in my grade on the last test in this class–here was my redemption (this way of thinking makes the game all the more fun, too). I bought a huge cheap linoleum tablecloth–the kind you’d use on a picnic table. It’s pinned on our wall now, filled with delicious psychology scribbles. It’s a fun way to study.

My eighteen-year-old classmates can’t do it, though. They can’t turn it into fun. They can’t appreciate the Crazy. I don’t blame them. They’ve been enduring school since they could form memories. University is just the next thing you’re supposed to do. That sort of perspective makes the awesome things hard to see.

I think it’s great that you and I can see the awesome things in everything. That might be one of the secrets to our own awesomeness.

It’d be awesome if everyone could see the awesome in everything.

Have a great Sunday, Ruth. I’ll see you soon.

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March 17, 2014

Hey Ruth, I’ve been away

It was the Dave’s birthday this past weekend. Asha and I had a good time down in Welland. Such a good time that I wasn’t able to say Hey at all. Oops.

It’s a busy week coming up, too. I have two essays, a mid-term, and a physics assignment all due this week. It’s just like That One Week last semester. Remember That One Week?

So I’ll turn the saying Hey business over to Asha this morning. Here’s the song she sang for you and Joe and Dev:

She wants to make more of these for you. Maybe tomorrow we’ll do some Rihanna.

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

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March 13, 2014

Hey Ruth, how’s the weather?

Every once in a while I look up what the weather is like in Sanghar. I bet it’d be so easy to be a TV weatherman in Pakistan.

“Today will be sunny, with a high of 33. Tomorrow will be sunny, with a high of 33. Sunday will be mostly sunny, with a high of 36. Then Monday will be sunny once more, with a high of 33.”

Wanna see what the weather’s like in Toronto, dear? Look:

I figure you might as well imagine that this is what I walk through every day. Multiple times a day.

Because of the two essays, one midterm and a physics assignment all due next week, that’s about all I have to say Hey about today.

Have a pleasantly warm eleventh day, Ruth. I’ll say Hey again tomorrow.

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