Whatsamatta U

One of my good friends from home (mutually identified hetero-lifemates) works at CNN, hoping one day to become an editor. Apparently, from time to time younger folks at CNN go abroad to film their own news segment, which can be pushed to the satellites that watch us from space if it's good enough.

I was telling him he should take a couple weeks off and come visit India while I'm travelling there. Of course, I already knew what he'd have to say about that, but half the fun of hanging out with him is provoking him to run a redheaded rant. "I don't mean to seem, you know, insensitive or anything," he begins, "but the whole AIDS in Africa, poor kids in orphanage thing is way overdone." "What I want is drug addicts - yeah, train-hopping, glue-huffing junkie graffiti artists."

At his housewarming party for his new and robotrendy loft in Grant Park, the subject came up again and it occurred to me that a segment on what's wrong with volunteers would be really interesting.

Last Sunday, working at the coffee shop, a group of cute girls that come in on the regular invited me to Five Guy's once I got off my shift. Brief preface here, there's a lot of cute girls that come in to our shop and this is one of the best parts of the job: drama-free 30 second dating. Tell a couple stories, have a good laugh, serve the latte and you're done. I got this wonderful system out of whack by taking the girls up on their invite. Talking to them about my plans for my next trip, they mentioned that they were looking at a program with a 24-year commitment. Four years of missionary school, followed by 20 years of living with a village without much contact with other people - learning their language, designing a written form of the language and translating the bible into this language. In her words "you go through the bible chronologically so they think that God is really terrible until you get to Jesus when they hear the good news and everyone gets saved."

Eeek. Fight flight fright. Though I'm always impressed that these folks can get out big words like chronologically, this brand of cultural pollution and judgment keeps me up at night.

Still, I'm sure their will be plenty of moments in medical practice when I'm the bad guy with the words from a made up language that were used to help someone that didn't want fixing.

Apparently the dean of Emory's medical school makes a point to remind each class that most medical students are high-functioning people living with mental illness.

Trying to pay more attention to my attitudes and compassion brings up words of Henri Nouwen, Pema Chodron and Rachel Naomi Remen - who all suggest that each person's brokenness or pain is what allows them to care for others. It's hard to be in that place, to stay with parts that are not where they should be. I'm still looking for how dwelling with the substance of struggle offers renewal.

One day I'll get my friend to put the film together, until then I'll stick to the overdone orphanages.

That's Dr. Howser to you...

Surprisingly, no one in any of my interviews for medical school has brought up that I favor Neil Patrick-Harris.

We're well into interview season and it's starting to wind down as people and places pick one another. I've never been through a judgment process quite like this one and I'm looking forward to it being over with. Listed as one of my soul-defining facebook interests is "looking for people that don't take themselves too seriously," which I expect to be a greater challenge in medical school.

The science is exciting and entertaining to read and nothing gets me jazzed quite like spending time with people - seeing how similar and different we can be at the same time. With that in mind, I'm hopeful that I end up in a place that balances the emotional abuse of a medical education with stretching relationships and strong mentors. I should know by March where the constellation of acceptances, deposits and uhauls align.

In theory this year has been a year off. The way working people talk about taking a year off gives the impression that they're imagining MTV's life-break 2k7/8. Weighing in with the celebrity cameos though, (John Goodman in Nola) are moments when it has felt like one of my most stone-heavy gut-sink times.

I'm so thankful to be present while my family here in Atlanta changes and ages. I know that spending lots of time away from home can translate to missing weddings and funerals - it's one of the biggest hesitations I had for joining the peace corps.

There are many chapters in the Tao Te Ching, but I frequently find Steven Mitchell's translation of chapter 8 echoing in my head:

The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

When you are content to be simply yourself
and don't compare or compete,
everybody will respect you.

holmes at home

Most writing here has been about time away from home.

Still, I've been thinking about this blog more and more since I'm starting to plan my next trip and I have a few posts about the home I've found since being in Atlanta again, while starting to think about leaving for India.

For starters, ever since I moved in with my roommates Allen and Liz just a slizzered swerve from fashionable EAV (just ask the guy across the street that I wave to as he chugs a 22oz brown bag before getting on the main drag - you know, it's safer that way) I've wanted to broadcast some awe and wonder for the local economy. The picture here is of Nabor's cleaners, a nice place where they do unto your laundry as you would have them do unto you.

It's best not to think too hard about the spelling here, just as it's best not to worry too much about the Jehovah's witnesses that come by at least once a week to convert us young professional heathens. Much less to be concerned about a faith that sees a limit to the number of people that can get into heaven, but still tries to get more people to join... If it were me, I'd try to keep my odds as favorable as possible.

Also nearby is Ann's snack shack, voted best burger in the nation by USA today, and best burger in Atlanta by Creative Loafing. What first drew my attention before all that though was the carefully airbrushed sign out front, proclaiming the rapidly-approaching-40-year-old trailer as home of the world famous ghetto burger (pictures and stories to come soon). World famous? Well, I had to have a piece of that. Did I hear you say hamburgers are cultural exceptions to vegetarianism?