Lectures On Life

Michael's First Lost Tooth

2012-02-07T07:54:00.000-08:00

Hello!

Today, my youngest child, my son Michael, lost his first tooth! It was a bottom tooth and he was very proud of the accomplishment. His tooth had been loose for over a week now, so I and my wife both had time to get ready for the event. I took a lot of pictures and video this morning showing how excited he was about the tooth fairy coming.

Konrad

My Son Michael

2010-09-28T06:30:00.000-07:00

After a very long hiatus, I have decided to try again to write on this site, much like my brother has done on his site very consistently for seven years. What I will focus on is my feelings and emotions about my family and especially about my two young children, Maria and Michael.

Today, I am hoping and praying that my son Michael does well in school. He has started kindergarten this fall, and it has been a bit of a struggle for him. The struggle is not academically, for he is enjoying the work and the tasks. His struggle is in socialization during periods of time that are not structured, such as lunch or at recess. He has bitten a kid twice in the last week, and has had to go to the principal's office for these offenses.

Michael is a really good kid, and he knows what he should do. My wife and I really want what is the best for him and are working hard to reiterate to him the ways he knows how to behave.

Please, Lord, give Michael the encouragement he needs as he makes his decisions today so that he chooses to do the right things.

Konrad

Quiet Times

2007-08-15T08:00:00.001-07:00

As the Summer winds down a bit for me and my wife and kids, I am finding that this has been a reasonably successful Summer in terms of relaxing, enjoying my family, and even in accomplishing a few goals.

Yesterday was rather hectic in that my wife has been involved with sending out a plethora of invitations for an upcoming anniversary celebration for her parents. My beautiful daughter Marie, painted two delightful paintings at daycare yesterday. In one, she had a bright red heart in the center, with red colored handprints (of her own hands) surrounding it. The other painting was of a pair of vivid blue flowers with white stems. Very lovely. Michael had a more challenging day yesterday, as he was placed on the "naughty mat" (our parental strategey adopted from watching the "SuperNanny" television series) several times last evening for not listening. He has a bit of a stubborn streak, and sometimes refueses to listen.

I have been enjoying a DVD collection I have acquired that has the first season of the television drama, "Hill Street Blues" on it. It is very interesting to watch on many different levels. I will write more about this tommorrow.

Konrad

Focus on Food

2007-08-14T10:36:00.001-07:00

To encourage healthier eating habits in our kids, Maria and I have been adopting a style of eating we tell Marie and Michael is called "Resturant Eating". In our case, this means we do not eat any of our main course initially, but instead spend a lesiurely amount of time consuming our salad. My wife and I both have substanial sized salads that take probably 25 minutes to eat. Marie (she is four) gets a miniature version of our salad, some fruit, and needs to drink at least 50% of her beverage. Michael (being only 22 months) simply gets fruit puree (baby food) and his beverage.

At first this new change in dinner was met with curiosity. Marie did not wish to try most of the vegetables in her salad, but would instead lick the dressing off of pieces of carrot and cucumber. In the last three weeks, however, we have noticed a bit of a change. Marie still dislikes lettuce in her salad, but she is usually eager to eat her carrots, and often times her fresh brocolli. Additionally, she has been very good about eating her fruit and is getting far stronger with drinking her beverage.

Michael is doing well too. He usually eats one or two jars of the fruit slurry that is his baby food.

The wonderful bonus effects of this salad first eating method are... 1) Marie is partially satiated by the slow eating of her "salad" and drinking of her beverage. This leads her to eat more slowly and carefully during the more substantial part of the meal that follows. This also has improved her manners substantially at the dinner table. 2) For Michael, the change is also great. He too becomes partially satiated by the early fruit dishes, and is more content and calm during the main course. He has even become more willing to try new foods... he likes whole peas, green beans, and has been interested in the textures of many other foods as well. Prior to this point, the only solid foods he was willing to eat were mashed potaoes, cheese, and bread. 3) Maria and I have a quieter, more contented and fun family dinner, and 4) Maria and I both have been striving to lose weight, and the salad first option helps *us* to also become satiated with smaller portions of the main course.

We are both pleased.

Konrad

Weekend of Fun

2007-08-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

This past weekend started actually on Thursday when Maria and I went to see the film, Ratatouli. This film was about a rat who wanted to be a chef. I should tell my brother about this film, as he studies rats. He would enjoy it as well.

On Friday, Maria and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary together. It was a special day in that we decided to take a hot air balloon ride. We took off from campus and flew over much of the town and very happily landed only a block or so from the day care where our children were. They were able to proudly tell everyone that their mommy and daddy were in the balloon.

Next we went to lunch at the Italian restaurant that was the scene of our second date. We of course had physical fun, and when we picked up our kids, we took them out to our favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. It was a wonderful time.

I purchased for Maria the following items.... a sterling silver neckalce made of five distinct loops each encrusted with small diamonds... to symbolize our 5th anniversary, several books, some chocolates, two new outfits and a few other odds and ends.

She bought me a hand made wooden box, a second smaller box for business cards, a portfolio bag, and a wonderful, 9 face clock designed to show time in multiple time zones.

It was a wonderful day. On the weekend, we took the kids and stayed at Maria's mom and dad's cottage. We, her parents, and Maria's sister, husband, and kid all stayed in the cottage and had an enjoyable time. Maria and I took the kids to the beach and both kids enjoyed it greatly. That evening, we went to Maria's uncle's house and they had a welcome home party and bonfire for their daughter who was visiting from North Carolina.

A very nice several days.

Konrad

Barbar The Elephant

2007-07-13T12:00:00.000-07:00

My wife visited her mother and father yesterday afternoon and took the kids with her. Marie came home with a "paint with water" book and so did Michael. The two of them were in great spirits (I was home cutting the lawn) when they returned, and Marie proceeded to want to paint a picture for me. That image, entitled "Queen Celeste Bathing in the Sun" is now hanging in my office. Queen Celeste is one of the characters from the Barbar series.

Time for Change

2007-07-12T07:48:00.000-07:00

I have decided to change the focus of my writing efforts (or lack of) in this cyber world. I may still occasionally talk about my feelings and emotions, but I think my effort will be stronger and likely more frequent, if I write instead about my family and my beautiful children.

As a start, I would like to introduce the members of my family:

My wife, Maria, is the love of my life. She is an academic, like me, but fortunately for us, she works in a different department. She is the only person I can truly say cares for me and loves me, other than my children.

My daughter, Marie (In order to avoid confusion, I may have to somehow make a clearer designation between my wife's name and my daughter's). She is currently four years old and she is a tall, graceful, utterly beautiful little girl. What is most beautiful, however, is the bright twinkle I can see in her cute little grey-blue eyes and the wonderful, imaginative thoughts that she has about day-to-day things.

My son, Michael, is 21 months old at the moment. He is a bundle of energy and we call him a "monkey". He is adorable and very, very cute.

I think this is the start of a wonderful, new beginning.

Konrad

The Upward Climb

2007-05-22T06:07:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I began the upward climb on still another attempt to become fit and healthy. My brother showed my how to use links, and I have been keeping my progress here. I have a long road to go and hope this time it sticks.

My young son was having a rough time sleeping last night. My wife took care of him but he was throwing tantrums very vividly. It worries me that he does this at 18 months. I worry he could end up out of control like so many of the child-actor types that we see. I do not know what to do to get him to stop.

Rerun of a Renewal Of Life & Death

2007-05-21T08:21:00.001-07:00

It has been quite some time since I posted. All manner of activities have occupied my body, mind and soul. However, the death of my mother has permeated most everything that I do. My brother (http:frumpyprofessor.blogspot.com) has been writing extensively about his grief. My grief is much the same, but I cannot find any solace in writing these words myself. I am unsure if I shall ever complete my grieving.

Yet, my return (which was a result of much cajoling and pushing from my older brother) is more about a renewal of my efforts to become healthy and happy. I walked approximtely 5.5 miles thus far this morning. If I walk home today, I will have walked another 5.5 miles. My vital statistics will be posted on my companion site http://konradsvitals.blogspot.com.

Non-Circular Records in A Radio Station

2006-07-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

While it has been quite some time since I have last spoke, I have had thoughts of how to best work at benefiting from this space. I believe I need this space to help me to quell my angst and fears. I am wanting to embark upon a mission of glory, one where I shall become the master of my destiny in a manner of my choosing. So, it is with trepidation, yet hoped for benefit, that I begin an ancillary blog to record my health behaviors. This diary of my failings so to speak will perhaps encourage my fortitude as I strive to clean up my act. Please visit the site here.

Posted by Konrad

The Undercurrent of Non Existent Momentum

2006-05-12T07:28:00.000-07:00

Well, it is safe to say that I have not accomplished any of the previously mentioned goals I set forth two weeks ago. For that I am discouraged and unpleasantly existent ashamed of my lack of self discipline and feelings of self worth. Instead of decreasing my four bowls of pipe tobacco down to two like I had stated as a goal, this morning like most every morning before it, I stepped out to the side of the house and smoked my typical pipe in the typical way, at the typical early morning time like I have so often before. The morning sun was out and the ground and trees were damp from an earlier rain, yet like so many times before, I sullied myself and the surroundings with my smoking. Luckily, my young daughter was still asleep when I went outside for this activity.

Unlike my brother (http://frumpyprofessor.blogspot.com), who seems to have a richer, more rewarding, more care-free life than I could ever imagine, I fail at every turn it seems. I did not even begin a new exercise plan for myself. My bother smokes like a fiend, exercises like a robot on caffeine, lives life so much "larger" than I do, but I do not understand how to alter the course or path I am on. I am almost impervious to change, no matter how I would like to change. There is so much that needs to be changed.

a) I smoke. I smoke four bowls of pipe tobacco a day. At 41, that is shameful.
b) I do not exercise enough. I should walk (or better yet, run) five miles a day like my much older brother and my two sisters, but I do not. At 41, that is also shameful.
c) I do not live life fully enough. When I look at my siblings, all I see is accomplishment after accomplishment, joy after joy. For me, I feel I am a meek, little mouse, afraid of being crushed under the weight of the various larger-than-life elephants about me.

The rotating sphere of this planet seems to never align with my own psychic reference so I am always tilting and bending from the incongruent match. Besides the failures I have listed above, I am fearful that there are other behaviors of mine that are just as much failures of mine I am not yet aware of.

d) I may not love enough. What if I am not giving my wife enough of the love she deserves and needs? What if I am showering enough love on my children?
e) I may not perceive enough. What if I am missing so much that my life is flat and flaccid, my family's presence diminished?
f) I may not pray enough. What is enough for prayer? Perhaps God is angry at me for my miniscule effort, perhaps the hour I spend in prayer should be better spent in another type or effort in prayer?
g) I may not read enough. My living is from reading , writing, and teaching, yet what if I am not being what I can and should be in my career? Should I work harder and with extra diligence?
h) I may be a glutton. Compared to the famines going on around us in the third world, it seems my actions day to day are horribly gluttonous. As mentioned before, I have been (unfortunately) smoking four bowls of pipe tobacco a day, I have been (unfortunately) allowing myself two cups of coffee a day, I have been eating a small snack each evening and I have not followed my earlier plan to cut my portions down at each meal.
i) I may be selfish. In so many ways, in so may moments, I am not putting my wife and kids first, and I am not putting my students first, and I am not placing my university or community first. Instead, shamefully, I am putting myself first and that never should be. I need to be fully a servant.

I must endeavor to remake myself into a better man. I am weak and so deficient in so many ways that the momentum I need to find seems impossible.

Konrad

Spinning Wheels in Frictionless Space

2006-05-01T08:20:00.000-07:00

There is an odd revolutionary juxtaposition in that I have been absent for almost five months and yet there is not a monumentous change that brings me back. It is simply that I now have found a focus upon which I wish to focus my attention.

Within the realm of life that is our own, we often gather with friends and relatives with whom we do not see as regularly as we would like. Such was the event of yesterday which corresponded to the third birthday of my daughter. It was at this festive occasion that I chose to not maintain as festively as I would have wanted. I unfortuantely showed anger towards my wife in that I became worried that she had spent far more than we agreed upon for some aspects of the party that I had not known about. I am always fearful of not having money to survive and at times, I my fear becomes pronounced. My beautiful and lovely wife is far less concerned with saving money and has no fear about our finances. Unfortuantely my fear made me angry and anger lead me to exchanging words with her. The words unfortunately hurt her feelings and dampened her time at the party and as you would expect,they dampened my mood as well. As the pendulum never pauses on the clock, it was nearly an hour after this exchange that I was able to comprehend how foolish I was in my fear and how we are safe financially. I have given her my most sincere apology, and I hope that she will forgive me for my transgression.

I have been thinking long a hard, and unfortunately not acting much upon my feelings about smoking. At the present time, within the span of one day I now will smoke four bowls of pipe tobacco. To my view, for 2006, this seems an extreme position to hold and I believe I should extinguish this behavior from my life. My father, as well as his father before him, and countless others in my family have been pipe smokers all their lives. My older brother (the Frumpy Professor, at http://frumpyprofessor.blogspot.com) is a pipe smoker to this day. Yet, in my fourty-one years of life, even though I find tremendous fun and pleasure when I do smoke my pipes, I also feel a sense of it being horribly wrong for me to do so. I feel the weight of society upon my shoulders as they castigate me for my habit. Even though I do not smoke publically, nor do I smoke in my home, I can feel their eye's peering down on my soul and judging me very negatively. Even though no one knows that I smoke a pipe (only my older brother, my wife, and one old friend from high school actually know), my enjoyment is dampened fully because I feel as if an outcast, a leper, an evil one. Yet, my father never felt such shame, and my older brother never feels that shame today. Yet I do, and therefore I must act.

In the past, I have engaged upon what can be an all or none approach. One time I literally took a hammer to my pipes and smashed them into bits to prevent my smoking them. Foolishly I went back to the activity within one month for I did not have the will to follow my convictions. A part of me wants to do that again with the five pipes I now own again. I should take a hammer to them again, but I do not feel my stamina is any more long lasting that it has been previously, for I am a weak soul. For the moment, I am going to cut in half my pipe smoking and will exist in a happy medium where I am smoking 50% less than I had been, and can technically be 50% of the way to where I should be, as I become a part of society again and leave this behind. I am sad yet happy to feel perhaps I am going to move to a better spot.

Konrad

The Non-Kinetic Gryoscope is Dead

2005-12-19T07:30:00.000-08:00

Where do I begin? Where do I end? I do not know. I am not sure I care anymore. Does it matter, does anything matter? Does life matter? Does death matter? Do I matter? I think the answer is no I do not. If the previous postulate is correct, and I do not matter, what is the point of any of this? Is there a point? Is there anything with a tangible value?

I am a frightened person. I am fearful of death, and I am fearful of life it seems. During the last two weeks, my elderly mother has been ill and fearful about her health. She has had to different surgical proceedures during this time period and we are waiting for news on the results of these various tests on the tissues the surgeons have removed. This two week period has accentuated my fears about death, and I have been emotionally in chaos. One minute I am weeping, the next minute I am angry, the next moment I am nearly asleep. Very little time is spent in happiness and very little time in life feels like joy.

I am sick of feeling this way. I despise these feelings and emotions. Why is it that I am so burdened by the fears, the guilts, and regrets? When do I get to live? I truly hate these feelings and I hate myself for having them. I do not know, but I sometimes wonder if I am clinically depressed? But then again, I have always been like this my whole life.

I envy those people who are more carefree in their spirit and soul. I wish I were like them. I wish I was not who I am. I am not sure if I can break free of the fear and the sorrow. I am afraid I will be caught in this whirlpool of frightening emotions forever, or until I die. What if there is nothing more for me? I see so many people who can find joy, can find peace, can find fun in life. Why cannot I have even a small sliver of that pie of happiness?

Is there something wrong with me? Is there something I have done to be burdened by this yoke of fear? Even when my loved ones are near me, I often feel so utterly alone that tears will pour from my eyes like a heavy rain and run into my beard. I have heard many women say that a good, long cry will make them feel so much better. I can report that a long cry does not make me feel any better.

I need to find a way to stop or change these feelings. I must. I do not know how to make the changes, however. I do not think I can stay as I am much longer. I hate myself, I had my fears, I hate my saddness, I hate the tension I feel, I hate not knowing how to live. I am afraid of death, I am afraid of life. I worry desperately about those I love. Yet, I worry about the mundane as well. For instance, I worry about the cup of coffee I have, I worry about not being a good father, I worry about eating the small handful of french fries I ate at dinner, I worry about the two bowls of pipe tobacco I have been allowing myself a day, I worry about not exercising enough, I worry about not going to confession enough, I worry about what the priest will think when I confess how horrible I am. I worry about excercising and working too much, I worry about neglecting my familiy, I worry about being too close to them so as to be emotionally smothering. I worry when I drive my car to work, I worry when it snows. I worry when it rains. I fear the impending death of each and every person I know. I fear being alone. I fear being in crowds. I am afraid of fear.

I must somehow change. I wish I was not who I am. I do not know how to change or if I can.

Tommorrow is also a day of sorrow and pain. Tommorrow is the 11th Anniversary of death of my niece due to suicide. She consumed a bottle of my sister's (her mother's) hypertension medication 11 years ago this evening. Even with pumping of her stomach, she could not survive and died the 20th of December, 1994. She was only 17 at that time. She would now be 28 if she had lived. She was a wonderful, creative, intelligent girl. I miss her greatly. Yet I am also angry with her. It makes little sense. I make little sense.

Konrad

The Spiral to No Where and Nothing

2005-12-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

Comfort in life, or comfort in practicing life is often very elusive and ephemeral. Day-to-day living can stretch on for a time without deviation or mishap, yet always lurking under the tranquil surface is the hurt of despair and destruction waiting, waiting oh so calmly and patiently for a brief moment of opportunity to rear out of the surface and impose its chaos and pain.

So goes it in my circle at this time. My mother is undergoing tests for the possible return of her cancer. In the intervening six or so years since her last surgery for the damnable cancer, all of her checkups and tests have returned with a pleasantly negative outcome. As of this moment she is preparing for an abdominal CatScan that will be administered tonight. These tests are being requested due to the recurrence of infections in the tissue where the cancer was located.

All my fear and all my longing well up in my throat and in my mind. I feel as if to run and hide and scream and sob would be what my body wishes I would do, yet it would not help me to have an outcome that is good. My mind and soul feel in chaos and turmoil.

Although I strive to pray using my rosary every day, during this episode of grave fear and sadness, I more ferveretly cling to that routine for my spirit. Sometimes I have doubt of its value, for I cannot say with any proof or knowledge that there is a God, although for me I hope there is, and I feel comforted by the hope that there is God. Yet, in times such as these, when the fears of death and fears for loved ones wells up with a vengeance I need to seek some form of comfort, some method to try to relieve the pain and the agony of the rampant fear.

In my life, the meticulous detail and the consistent rhythm of my prayer when using the rosary is especially helpful to me. Many others adopt other forms of prayer or action, and those are blessings for them. Yet,for my own life, the rosary as the cornerstone of my efforts to talk with God is helpful. When I meet friends and associates who are not Roman Catholic, but of another faith or of no faith, they often find my devotion to prayer through the rosary odd to understand. I can empathize with them, for rituals and actions related to religious beliefs can manifest in ways that are difficult to align with day-to-day logic and life. This misalignment is both a blessing and a hindrance to religious faith. By being something outside of typical society, the religious thoughts or patterns can give people a method to journey to areas of thought not always fitting with the logic of modern life, it can be a blessing, yet far too many people either use religion or have beliefs loosely based upon religion that give them (in their mind, anyhow) the "right" to be horribly mean and nasty and even harmful to anyone who does not share in their belief. I cannot emphasize how horribly wrong this path is.

And, this unappealing zealousness that some people acquire for their mean-hearted "faith" is a true downfall for honest, sincere spiritual and religious thought because so many people equate these bigoted pseudoreligous folk with the whole of religion. In my opinion, it would be better for these people who see "faith" as justification for hate of others (examples abound and can include a) many extreme fundamentalists who suggest everyone other than members of their own faith will "burn" for eternity, b) Hitler and all of his followers who felt justified in their massacre of people of a faith different than their own, c) the murderer of Madeline O'Hare, the famous promoter of ideas of Atheism, for he felt it was his "duty" to kill her for her lack of faith, and d) Muslim EXTREMISTS who use their faith as justification for killing and bombing) to be separated from society so that others may live in greater harmony. I know this cannot occur, but if there were someway for those who do long have hate thought to be separated from those that do, life would be far, far better.

Yet, for me the gentle contemplation and the guidance I feel from using the rosary in prayer is helpful to me. In this time of great fear, please keep my dear mother in your prayers and hope that her cancer has not returned, or if it has returned, hope that it is easily treatable without need for invasive surgery or chemotherapy.

Konrad

The Wrinkle of Life is Furrowed Deeply

2005-11-28T06:45:00.000-08:00

It is harsh as one transitions from one age to another. In our halcion youth, we often see others and feel sorrow for them because of their age and their infirmity. Yet, as it begins to happen to you, you rail and fight against having that pitiful expression show in the faces of those younger than yourself.

I am only 40, but I can sense those changes starting to happen to me, and it makes me feel sad and somehow a failure to have acquired these changes. A stiffness in my back I had not felt previously, a soreness in my arms, the beginnings of wrinkles under and around the eyes, a hairline that is slowly but now noticably shrinking. I can never return to what I was, nor will I ever feel that same sense of passion about life again, the feeling of life being forever without question. It has been a long while since I felt that "foreverness" of life with any regularity [perhaps 10-12 years], but on really wonderful days I would still feel and experience glimpses of that "foreverness" feeling that is so utterly freeing and beautiful. For the past year or so (once I turned 40) that feeling has seemed utterly unatainable. I know it would be pretty much a mental infirmity if I now, at my advanced age, believed in a "foreverness". Yet, to not even be able to acquire those fleeting glimpses makes me feel morose.

I fear death, I fear infirmity, I fear so much that I sometimes cannot sleep because of the overwhelmingness of it all. Yet other times I fear life, I fear being physical, and I fear so much that all I can do is sleep, in a vain hope to ignore the fears. With two young children, I fear not being there for them, I fear that I may miss protecting them at some crucial moment when my head is turned another direction, I fear that I may not teach them well so as to become smart, thinking people, I fear they may choose paths in life that may not help them or help society, and I fear I may instill in them my own fears.

It is hard to be afraid.

Konrad

The Loop Continues to Infinity

2005-11-08T06:27:00.000-08:00

Mortality is a very frightening concept. I can recall when the philosophical construct of death and dying took hold of me and grabbed me tightly. I was six years old and even though I had known of the word death and its definition, the impact of its fortitude on life was not yet clear to my childish mind. I cannot even recall a trigger for this event, this bloom of awareness deep within both my soul and in my spirit. Perhaps there was no trigger. I cannot recall. Yet, I can still feel the utter terror and panic that gripped my body, I can relive the flavor of that fear, that realization. The notion that all that I knew and all that I love would end.

I locked myself into the upstairs bathroom in the old house and wailed and wailed, the giant, salty tears rolling into my open mouth. The gasping I felt as I tried to breath between the long stretches of wailing caused me to choke and cough. My cries were heard through the house and everyone came to the door to help, but I had locked it. The strength of the realization of death was so powerful that I am fairly certain I lost a sense of how to answer or communicate with my family, for all of them tried to talk with me and have me open that door and come out. Or at least tell them what was happening. But I could not. I could only cry and sob, and wail and dissolve myself within that emotion of fear and horror. There was no use, no purpose to anything. Death is all we have and all that we end up with.

Finally, after some stretch of time (I asked my father once, he said it was perhaps 3-4 minutes) that seemed eternal, my father used a screwdriver and a nail to unlock the bathroom door and my family all came in and surrounded me, fear in their eyes and questions on their lips. My mother scooped me in her arms, my father placed the palm of his hand under my chin and lifted my face towards his. They both questioned me about what was wrong, what had happened, was I hurt?

I could not answer them. I could not tell them what it was I had discovered. It would hurt them like it had hurt me. I could never reveal what it was I had discovered. And to keep it inside and to feel as if I were the gatekeeper of this knowledge made me feel more than overwhelmed and the sorrow felt as if it would never dissipate. I am not sure at what level I was thinking at the time, but I only knew that I could not tell them, my parents, my siblings, that I knew and understood the inevitable trek we are on to death. It is not that I presumed they were unaware of the impending demise themselves, but more that I did not want to hurt them further by having them know I too now carried that horrid and heavy yoke of knowledge with me. I did not want them to feel that added burden knowing that I knew.

It took roughly two hours for me to calm down and fall asleep for a nap. Although everyone kept asking me, I could not tell them what occurred. And I never did tell them or anyone what it was that happened that day. This is the first time I have revealed what it was that occurred. The sheer terror I felt, the despair I felt about all in life, because I had somehow put the details together in my mind and truly knew and understood the inevitability of death.. My religious faith has been a comfort for me over the years, yet that horrid grip of knowledge still is there, lurking in my mind, too available, yet properly available for me to explore at any moment. The various dances I take at times to avoid that mental loop are quite elaborate, and yet, the awareness of it being there never escapes me.

Konrad

To Endure a Pyramid Within a Spherical Mind

2005-11-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

A factor of my life that I have become more aware of in a tangible sense as I grow older is how I do not often feel comfortable within my own skin, be it my physical body, my family, my community, my town. I am uncertain as to why I feel this way, but looking back on my fourty years of life, I can see it has been a thread that has been a part of me since conception.

How do I mean or how am I aware of this discomfort, one may ask. It first became obvious to me only in brief flashes or in short fits and spurts during all sorts of different daily activities. For many years these flashes or spurts were disjointed and had no cohesive sense to them. The interconnectedness of their effect only became apparent en masse. The flashes or fits and spurts were hallmarked by an amazing seensation of "unawareness", a loss of input to the mind about where I was at, what I was doing, analysis of how I was performing. Another way to state is that I was "in the moment" so to speak. In the brief seconds and occasional minutes I felt this "in the moment" sensation, I was not cognizant of its significance, and only through the happenstance event of pieces several of these moments together did I realize that I am perhaps abnormally aware of my physical and emotional self in regards to the surroundings. This awareness consumes vast stores of physical and emotional energy and now that I sense its costs, I wish to either find beneifts to the method of living or adjust my methods of living accordingly.

Konrad

The Square has Rounded Edges

2005-10-31T07:07:00.000-08:00

It is with joy and happiness that I report the birth of my son. He is a very happy and healthy baby and he joins my wife and my daughter to make us a family of four.

Fatherhood is a true blessing in life. As I started my journey into fatherhood later than many (I was 37 when my daughter was born), I have often thought about how I should grow and prepare to be the best father I can be for my children. With these thoughts also grows a saddness in that I can feel myself age and it brings into a sharper focus the shortness of our time here. I so wish to be healthy to stay with them as long as is possible. I am seriously contemplating reforming my life to one of greater emphasis on health. I am seriously striving to quit my two pipe a day habit, I do not drink any appreciable amount currently, but am contemplating having one glass of red wine before bed for its health benefits. I am thinking I should return back to active running/jogging and start training for the various 10K races like I did in my 20s. I am thinking of eating a more restrictive diet especially in terms of fats [My family's diet is good currently, for we are vegetarian probably 20 out of 21 meals a week and we emphasize whole foods, but there is room for improvement].

Perhaps if I can make the above my new life vision, I can increase how long I can stay with my beloved family.

Konrad

The Circle Within the Circle is More Round

2005-10-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

It is difficult to come of age in a time that is perhaps not best suited for your personality. I suppose many people feel this from time to time. However, I think it is perhaps a malady I am more frequently afflicted with than many. It could be a birth order issue, or it could be the length of time between relatives in my family, or the generational time span that is found within my lineage.

My father, who is now deceased would be in his mid 80s today. He grew up during the Great Depression. My grandfather, long deceased would be 125 today. Imagine that. My grandfather was 23 years old when the Wright brothers flew their first plane in 1903! And yet I am only 40 years old. The span of time seems enormous. It is an odd feeling being the youngest child of parents who where the youngest children in their families.... especially when the youngest children in all of these families were born later in life.

Even within my childhood family, the ranges are enormous. My oldest sibling, my oldest brother, is 17 (seventeen) years older than I am. He was born right at that time of the end of World War II when the first BABY BOOMERS came into existance. I on the other hand, am not a baby boomer, but instead fall into the age category named GENERATION X.

I have felt so out of touch with the moment most of my life. I am GENERATION X, but I sometimes feel like I would better be a CIVIL WAR aged person. Other times I feel more alignment with being a person alive in the holy MIDDLE AGES. Other times I feel I would have made an excellent HIPPIE from the 1960s radical days. Other times I feel a kindred spirit with the artists of the 1920s living in Paris.

The time frame and the time shifts I feel are interesting and odd. I sometimes do not feel comfortable in my own generational timeframe.

Konrad

Love and Brotherhood

2005-08-30T13:10:00.000-07:00

Within our lives, it is clearly most important to have love and to be loved. Love can exist in so many different ways..... spouse to spouse, parent to child, child to parent, sibling to sibling, friend to friend. Each type of love is a true and very spiritual.

Sometimes I am envious about the passion and the ease at which my oldest brother (Frumpy Professor) lives life. He is able to weather storms and day-to-day worries with an ease and humor that I sorely lack.

A case in point that he has been chiding me about much of the last 10 years is pipe smoking. My brother is a consummate, proud, and vocal pipe smoker. He has a deep passion for the activity and is happy and content in his life that includes pipes. For me, it is a much different story. I do not usually talk about this subject, but I too am a pipe smoker, although I am not comfortable with that designation. For me, smoking a pipe is a beautifully spiritual event and yet, I have looming fears about smoking a pipe (health reasons), and I am exceedingly uncomfortable being labeled by society as a pipe smoker. Unlike my brother, I smoke only perhaps 2 - 3 times a day. Also, I never smoke inside my home or my family's vehicles. I also do not smoke in the presence of my children. There is a part of me that is ashamed, I believe. Ashamed to smoke, ashamed to smoke but be furtive about it, ashamed that I do not have the backbone or stamina to live life as "large" as others seem to do with ease. I believe that my discomfort stems a) from being from a different generational mindset from my brother (he is significantly older than I am), and b) from a general meekness I have had in my personality my whole life.

I am not sure why I am writing this today, but it is as I have written, and it has always been this way.

Konrad

TMJ

2005-08-15T14:20:00.000-07:00

TMJ which stands for temporomandibular jaw syndrome causes pain and discomfort to occur through grinding of the teeth and misalignment of the jaw.

I have had TMJ since I was a teen, and I have used bite splints to help prevent me from grinding my teeth while I sleep at night. These splints have greatly reduced the pain, but the underlying condition remains and very little can be done to treat it.

I have chewed through four different bite splints over the years. I think that stress has a large component in whether people grind their teeth or not. I wish I did not feel so much stress, and I am not sure why I feel such stress whereas other people do not. I am very much a stress ball and feel stressed most waking hours. Yet, I have many relatives and friends who are similar to me in terms of day-to-day activities and responsibilities, yet they do not feel as much stress as I do.

I wonder if there is some sort of inner, perhaps genetic, component to being stressed.

Konrad

St. Francis of Assisi

2005-08-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

A poor man who inspired the Roman Catholic Church by literally working towards LIVING the Gospel. He did not not in the way of the typical fundimentalist Christian but instead through following the whole of the teachings of Jesus and living a live of service to others.

He is the patron saint of animals and the environment, and I consider him an inspiration along the same vein as Rachel Carson.

I hope in my daily life that I more towards more closely resembling him.

Konrad

Who Will Read This?

2005-08-09T13:35:00.000-07:00

I am still getting started here and trying to find a "voice" for this site. Just getting ready for the start of the school year. I did find a very interesting vegetarian cookbook today for my wife. It is perhaps 800 pages but each page is about the size of an index card. There are photographs of each item. They all look good.

Konrad

Interesting Reading

2005-08-08T07:30:00.000-07:00

I have recently began to re-read William Least-Heat Moon's novel "Blue Highways". It is a semi-autobiographical fictionalized but close to reality book about the author's travels through small towns and burgs in the United States. I read this book first when I was 23 years old (That is 17 years ago! 40 seems so old!) and it inspired me to travel. It is bringing up similar feelings as I re-read it.

Konrad

Getting a Theme

2005-07-29T10:17:00.000-07:00

Now that I have committed to writing a blog, I am debating if I should or should not have a theme? My brother's blog (see previous entry) does not technically have a theme, although it seems he talks about many of the same subjects frequently. I think I am leaning towards a similar sort of structure. Sort of "free-flow".

Ok, Inspire Me

2005-07-28T09:03:00.000-07:00

Well, now that I have this blog, what will I do with it? My oldest brother has had a blog for a long time called the Frumpy Professor. Yet, he is much more entertaining than I am. He has been nagging at me to start a blog for nearly a year now.

So, who am I? I am a 40 year old associate professor. I am a husband. I have one child and one on the way. I was the youngest of seven children in my family while growing up. I have two older brothers and four older sisters. "Frumpy Professor" (who is my borther) is the oldest of the seven children.

I am not sure what else to write right now.

Post #1

2005-07-12T07:25:00.000-07:00

I have finally been coaxed into writing a blog. I have read blogs for quite a while, but it was my older brother that has been on me for months to start one of my own.