Exploring Casentino Forest.

here's to finishing up the journey.

Luglio 17, 2008
Days in Italy: 27
Known Bug-bites: i coin the term galaxy legs
Total Gelato Sessions: 21
Collective Fanta Consumed (mL): 14,640mL
Italy: 9:00 AM
America: 12:00 AM

"The world is so big."

So much profundity to Chelsea's simple utterance. We're told millions of people come by the Casentino forest every year, but Jesse our nature-walk guru assures us he never sees large tourism here. He's right. We're the only ones here. It feels like, for a few moments, we're the only people in the world. It's hard to explain, but I'm sure you already understand.

Along the 6 kilometer hike -which on an incline feels like a lot more than roughly 3 miles - I try to take in the green vastness and the vast greenness of my surroundings. It's crazy to think there are parts of this forest nobody has ever seen, and nobody ever will see. Crevices and cracks, tops of trees and sides of rocks, bits of dirt and moss no human will ever touch. Sometimes it's hard for me to understand that there are parts of this world not intended for mankind to claim.

That's what makes Chelsea's thought so insightful. The world is so big, so much bigger than we understand, so much bigger still that we can hardly understand how we don't understand. I mean, God created this in 6 days? If we can't even comprehend the world in front of us, how much less the secret ways of God?

Sure there are parts of this world man is not meant to know, but in all things God has a purpose. So what's the purpose of knowing that you can't know something? I wouldn't like to pretend like I knew the full answer, but I know that understanding how finite we are is one of the greatest lessons we can learn...and relearn. The hardest thing for a man to do is to accept that he's not God.

Dory ends up hurting her ankle pretty badly coming down the trail and laughs in pain. Dang, she really does laugh at everything but my jokes.

The word “religious” can be a puzzling one.

The word is not too often frequented, but when it is it’s hardly in the first-person affirmative. That is, the word more or less is preceded by “I’m not very—“ or “yeah, he’s really—.” Ironically enough, those who fit the colloquial bill of being religious hardly use the term. Though it’s in the significant lack of the first-person affirmative that we can begin to find its definition in today’s culture.

What does a person usually mean when he says he’s “not very religious?” In the context of Christianity, he means that he doesn’t participate in Christian practices, i.e. reading the Bible, praying regularly, or going to church on days where something isn’t being celebrated or mourned. So then to be religious, in the Christian respect, is to participate in practices. While there is some truth to that - contrary to those who think Christianity is simply "just you and God" - it's important to note that it first starts in the heart and mind. To exalt Christianity as chiefly a series of practices is to grossly miss the point.

If you never understood before, allow me to briefly explain how Christianity works according to the Bible. Christ is the center, and so naturally to be a Christian you have to believe in Christ. This, of course, is not limited to just believing he exists, or believing that he loves you. The Bible mentions that even the demons know who Christ is. To make Christ the center is to believe in him as your Lord and Savior, that he is God, came down as man, lived a sinless life to die on the cross and bear the punishment for the sins of those who would receive the gift he offers of eternal life (John 3:16). To make Christ the center is to believe that Christ, as he proclaims in John 14:6, is “the way, the truth, and the life. No man comes to the Father but through [him].”

From there, the practices will come. Indeed, “if you love [him], you’ll keep his commands (John 14:15).” How can you call him your Lord if you don’t follow his teachings? Such irrationality couldn't be placed in the framework of any inspiration. It’s a process that starts from the inside and ends in the out, neglecting neither the internal transformation nor the external expression, that distinguishes a true Christian from someone who is simply religious.

Call me a player...

...but I do write for other blogs and I'm not ashamed. I recently finished two articles for Thatsfresh.com, a dance community weblog I write for. I share news and thoughts on this season of America's Best Dance Crew, premiering today at 10:00 PM. Check 'em out, pen name Jules.

The gist of it.

Dear Lord,

Give me this, this, this, and this.

Injius name I pray,

Amen


I should replace one of the this's with humility.

Funkspiration.

Old performance from "Icon: Janet Jackson," MTV's ephemeral series of tribute specials. I used to watch this video every day in High School after I downloaded it off Kazaa Lite. I wanted to watch it again today, now with a keener eye for choreo and performance, and their performance still blows me away. I wish Pink, Usher, and Mya would dance like this more often. Also, I realized that Janet Jackson is a locker! Man, I had no idea what I was watching.



R.I.P BABI GURL

Another 2009 first.

First "Julian story" of 2009:

So I walk into In-n-out, and I see my friend Bryan in through the glass door. I met him through Allen, and so I know him more indirectly than directly, but we're good enough friends. Our eyes meet and I continue to stare. It's awkwardness of choice, because sometimes I make it awkward on purpose to avoid making it awkward by accident. I pass the doorway and walk straight to him, offering a handshake. He obliges, and immediately after I hear "Julian!" I look to my right to find middle-to-high school friend Patty Lee. I didn't know they knew each other, but I guess it's a Korean thing. Next to spot is Charlene's ex-beau Jiun, as they point to the other booth to reveal a waving Steffi and Mike. It's crazy to find Bryan amongst all my Walnut friends. It's like a Walnut High school reunion, plus Bryan...who went to Rowland...and...actually...isn't the guy in front of me whose hand I just shook. In fact, it's Patrick Sun, someone I never actually spoke to before.

It's cool; he wasn't freaked out or asked "do I know you?" (<- I've been asked before amidst similar handshakes) so I assume that among all our mutual friends he at some point learned who I was. Yes, the sudden realization hitting my face, followed by attempts to conceal the rapid neuron-firing and look like i'm paying attention to the conversation, is very much cool...

Firsts of 2009.

First memory: Driving back to the Navales house, regretting that I didn't call my parents and realize they weren't going to be home by midnight before I drove home, stopping at Lemon and La Puente,and checking my phone to realize that it's 12:01 AM.

First meal: Remnants of the same spaghetti Alfredo, steak of varying rarity & cranberry drink meal I had just 2 hours prior.

First conversation: At the Navales house front door, answering RJ's question as to why I was back.

First sleep: 12.5 hrs.

First priority in writing this post: Make something entertaining and thought-provoking to read Jan 1, 2010. (Second: Make something entertaining and thought-provoking to read Jan 1, 2009).