intentionally.

May 31, 2005

That's right ladies and gentlemen, I've officially become a statistic.

A very pathetic, extremely unmasculine statistic.

More...

May 29, 2005

Do yourselves a favor.

Go to your bookstore and pick up Three Billion New Capitalists.

I'll wait for you to come back...

Everyone claims they know all about China and India and their meteoric rise from relative poverty. But this book takes you into how they got there and where everything is headed, and does so in an extremely thoughtful way.

While we're spending ourselves silly, trying to compete with each other to have the nicest car or handbag, the Chinese are investing roughly 40% of their GDP back into their country in the interest of growth and continued advancement in the world stage. They have so many skilled workers working so cheaply that it often makes more sense to just hire them then to make the investment in capital machinery to automate processes.

Intel opened up a plant in India, not just because the government gave them a tax holiday and virtually paid for the plant (which they did,) or becuase the labor there is a fraction of what it is in the States (which it is,) but because they needed 1600 PhD's in computer science, which we don't even have.

The question will not be whether or not the United States loses its place as the dominant world power (it will,) or even when it will happen (soon.) The question is whether we allow our fall to be a graceful one with a soft landing, or let our arrogance and self-righteousness get in the way and make the fall an epic one.

Pick up the book. Digest it. Devour it. Take notes. And make sure you at least prepare yourself and your family.

Might want to pick up a book on Mandarin while you're at it...

May 22, 2005

It's been six months since I made the move to New York, and there's been one question people have kept asking - "Do you see yourself staying there?"

It's a tough question to answer.

On the most shallow level, there's a lot about the place I don't like. I come from Colorado, a place filled with so much beauty that I feel terrible for not taking better advantage of it when I was there. I miss the smell of clean air, the pine trees, the breathtaking views of massive mountains, the sound of creeks, the colors of the Aspens....all of it. Neon and concrete and honking horns and millions of people crammed together like sardines are an extremely poor substitute.

But then I think about it, and there's a lot I love about the city. There's SO much to do - I've gone six months without a television set and I don't miss it at all. Everyone you meet feels as though they are in the middle of something bit and important - they came for a reason, they have goals they want to accomplish and they have the passion and drive to see them through.

And then there's the food. Being able to leave work and walk down a random block with absolute certainty that you'll find a hole in the wall restaurant with food that makes you feel like all is right in the world...there's nothing like it anywhere.

If there was ever a period of time where I was lacking the drive that I cherish so much, that time is long past. I'm working a ton, I'm pushing myself, and I have very definite goals I'm striving for. There's so much to look forward to right now - it's an exciting time.

And yet...

I'm haunted by a fear of becoming something I don't want to be. The people I meet here are talented and ambitious and hard-working, and there's a lot to admire in them. But ask them what they're working so hard for...and I'm disappointed. For many of the folks I know, the goal is a $200 pair of jeans, or a second house, or a new car. For others, it's simply to make enough money to go out regularly, to become a part of the crowd mingling in dark clubs in the Meatpacking District, too full of alcohol and whatever else to know what time it is. To be beautiful, to be trendy, to have others look at you and think "they are so cool" - in many ways it's like an enormous high school.

The worst part about all of this is what it makes me - I've not been done in by the temptation to fill my days with shopping and my nights with drinking. I have managed to preserve who I am and what I believe in. But seeing all of this affluence and emptiness has in many ways made me a judgmental person, and it makes me sick. I find myself looking at the women with the giant sunglasses and the tiny dogs in their Burberry purses, and I feel my lips curl downward.

Contempt - if pride is the worst feeling I can possess (and I believe it is) then contempt is a very close second. It fills you up with presuppositions and assumptions about people that are very likely completely inaccurate. It makes it extremely difficult to engage in conversation, because deep down you're certain that what they have to say has very little validity. After all, they're simple people who've been blinded by the glitz and glammor of this massive city and it's ridiculous wealth.

I knew being a Christian would be hard in New York, and I tried to prepare myself. I worked very hard to insulate myself from the lures of money and status and power, and I feel as though God's protected me from much of this. But in all my thinking about the outward and obvious traps that such a city offers, I was blindsided by the more subtle, more insidious dangers.

I'm thankful that I've discovered this. I'm praying for a softer heart - one that still isn't interested in being driven by the things so many others are driven by, but at the same time filled with compassion and understanding.

They say that busyness is the devil's playground, which makes New York DisneyWorld. If I search my heart, I know that these people aren't silly or stupid. In the midst of so much stimuli and activity and work, it's extremely difficult to step back and think about the things that matter. I find it hard to remember to reflect, to write. I find it even harder to pray. I find it almost impossible to study. So if I'm having such a hard time, knowing full well the supreme importance I place on such things, why would I be so ignorant as to look down on anyone else?

The busyness is part of it, but there's also the intense social pressure. Unlike any place I've ever been, this is a city largely devoid of anything Godly. It's easy to say that it's the people's fault, but if I'm honest with myself I must recognize it's more complicated than that. When you're surrounded by millions of people who are collectively talking about money and clothing and status as the things they value, it's difficult to buck the trend, to seperate yourself. And, as you're looking at these people, watching the way they live and making the decision to do the same because it's too hard to do otherwise, they're looking right back at you, watching you and making the decision themselves to conform.

Maybe it's a city of people all desperately hoping that there's something of importance and substance and meaning beyond their jobs and their pursuit of the next rung on the corporate ladder. Maybe they're looking around, hoping that you'll be the one to say, "You know what? These shoes, this handbag, this ornate bar, this banal conversation spoken over liquor-laced breath is not what life is about! There's something more, and I'm not willing to wait until I've 'experienced life' and settled down to figure out what that is!"

We're called to be lights in a world full of darkness. Colorado Springs is a city where, if I were to walk into a random coffee shop or bookstore and sit down, there was roughly an 85% chance that the man or woman sitting next to me was a Christian. It's a great place to raise a child, a great place to start a Bible study. But it also represents a certain amount of safety, a certain amount of exile from the real world.

If Colorado Springs is one extreme, New York is the other. Maybe I'm supposed to stay here a while, to continue to work hard and bring God glory through the use of my talents and abilities. Maybe I'm supposed to be an example through the way I live my life, through the things I value.

Easy to think I'm ready for that task, but in truth I have a lot of work to do. I have to get my heart to a place where I can be friends with people who may value things I deem meaningless. I have to get my heart to a place where I can love people and see them as fragile and broken just like I am - people who deserve to be loved and treated with respect. Not comtempt, and not it's close cousin, pity. But a genuine, open and honest love.

Then I'll be the kind of man, the kind of servant God wants me to be. A lofty goal. But I'm in the right city for lofty goals, aren't I?

In the meantime, there's the food...

May 09, 2005

Apparently there is such a thing as working yourself sick.

A few months ago I got sick and spent a few days at home. And by 'at home,' I mean spending 7-8 hours each day at starbacks, feverishly sending emails to clients and colleagues.

Returned to the office, and promptly flung myself back into my usual tireless work week, full of nights and weekends huddled over the laptop. I thought myself invincible. I thought myself superhuman. I thought myself able to work for six months with few breaks, being in the office an hour before everyone, leaving late, spending weekends at the various coffeeshops littered throughout New York.

I was wrong.

Five days spent in a bed throwing up and sweating and coughing and dealing with terrible headaches has a way of bringing you back down to earth. Perhaps I'm reaching that age when you discover you're no longer invincible, when you need to take care of yourself and rest and whatnot.

More likely, I'm reaching that age when you should discover you're no longer invincible and need to take care of yourself, but will likely ignore it for a few more years until things get really bad. Ah, to be young and intentionally ignorant...