Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 6/12/23 Nik Curfman 6/12/23

Vol III: #87 Normal Day

I hate thoughts like I’m a failure, I’ll never succeed, and you’re living a lie. And I often wonder if I’m full of shit, if I’m creating a world where success is always out there but never something I can achieve. And if success for a 42 year-old is defined by wealth and a family, then yes, I’m an abject failure. And early in the morning, these types of judgments hit harder and seem to sink deeper into my soul than they normally do.

I woke up in a funk this morning, what I’ll describe as a mental haze of hopelessness. And the funk wasn’t one of heightened emotion or anxiety, on the contrary it was very logical. The thoughts in my head attacked my sense of purpose and the vision I have for my life, and all this at 5 am… I assume other people wake up in a similar fashion, though hopefully not every day. And what a dreadful way to start a week.

I hate thoughts like I’m a failure, I’ll never succeed, and you’re living a lie. And I often wonder if I’m full of shit, if I’m creating a world where success is always out there but never something I can achieve. And if success for a 42 year-old is defined by wealth and a family, then yes, I’m an abject failure. And early in the morning, these types of judgments hit harder and seem to sink deeper into my soul than they normally do.

What I’m proud of is my reaction to my early morning cocktail of lies and anxiety. Instead of sleeping away my morning or rationalizing a defeated day, I went to the prayer chapel and then to the gym. And by 8 am I was sweaty and more grounded, able to focus on my work day. I don’t know why or for how long I will battle feeling like a fraud or failure. As a general concept I believe in the idea of victory over anxiety and fear, over lies and self-sabotaging notions. And I also believe victory means being free from these thoughts or emotions. Perhaps that’s not how it works. Maybe the first victory look like today, in my choice to push on with my day, in doing of what looks so normal to everyone else.

Nik Curfman 10/28/22 Nik Curfman 10/28/22

Vol III: #29 Success is Awesome

In lieu of looking for deeper meaning, I’ll just tell you what I did with my first proper baguette. After some perfunctory photos and texts, I sliced the bread the length of the loaf and layered prosciutto, salami, provolone, and a handful of pickled banana peppers inside. Then, I enjoyed my labor. It was a fine and filling sandwich and joyful to eat. Success tastes delicious.

All of nine days ago I wrote about the need to childlike, especially as I learn to bake a proper baguette. And, today I did it. From the right amount of salt, to the fermentation, proof, and bake; I nailed it. The crust is thin and crisp while the crumb is irregular, open, and just to the right side of chewy. Oh, oh Nik. You silly boy. To think, you nearly gave up a few weeks ago.

Nik Curfman 10/12/22 Nik Curfman 10/12/22

Vol III: #22 Sometimes, It Be Like That

I love to write, but not at the moment.

I’ve hit a wall as a writer. And, I think it stems from my expectations, rather my raised expectations. When I began to blog in 2020, I enjoyed the process and refused to be bogged down by style or grammar. But now, I want to be a good writer. And I don’t think I am. So, I don’t write because I’m judging myself and this process.

In most areas of my life I feel a similar lag or defeat. One consolation is I refuse to give up. Each week is a new week, and if I must restart the process every week, so be it. So, this is what I have today- a short and simple post wherein I state my frustrations. As the kids say…Sometimes, it be like that.

Nik Curfman 5/23/22 Nik Curfman 5/23/22

Vol II: #70 From Small to Big

Since 2015, I started a number of new healthy habits like making my bed every morning, charging my phone and watch downstairs to make falling asleep easier, journaling, blogging, gratitude, biblical proclamations, etc. The more concise truth is I have yet to establish the habits I want in areas of life that cause me shame or prolonged embarrassment. But, I made lasting changes is major areas of my life and I will not forget them. These smaller changes are the stepping stones to the big shifts to come. Winning is winning, and we cannot often win the big battles until we’ve won the smaller skirmishes. At least, that’s what I’ve learned.

A while ago I read a new habit can be established in as little as 21 days. Oh dear Holy God do I wish that claim was fact. Years later I’m sure whatever poor bastard, or more likely group of bastards, who printed that nonsense have paid the price for it. Since then the new habit timeline switched from 21 to 30 days, to 45, and now “they” say 66 days. Hogwash. I new habit takes what it takes. Even more to my point, I think some behaviors (including some very healthy acts like exercise) might never become a habit in the most normal sense of the word.

I wish exercise was as automatic as biting my nails or gnawing chicken bones long after most people would stop. But, that’s not my life. Every time I lace up my shoes I pause to battle the temptation to stay on the couch. My insecurity and doubt search for any convincing argument to keep me home: I need new shoes, my hair looks a mess, or the ole faithful “just start tomorrow.” Maybe, I will have to push and fight and be more determined than laziness wants me to be.

Goals help. Of course, they do. The ability to tie a habit such as exercise to a future number or larger life goal is a major boost. I want to be able to hike with more energy and strength, and I also want to teach my children to care for their bodies. (One of those feels so far fetched I feel ashamed to admit it.) But, that’s not how habits are formed. And I’m trying to rewrite decades of established behavior. This is why changing habits can be painful and discouraging.

I do have one alternative explanation: impatience. Impatience pulls our heads down and pointed at our failures. It’s why we give up on ourselves and our hopes. It’s why we give up on Him. We settle for the crumbs today because we believe the lie the bread will be gone tomorrow. And though my life is full of failures, I have my victories too.

The trick is to get back up, to lean into the Lord, and believe “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.” And yes, I believe in miracles. The instant interaction of Heaven and Earth is a blessing and we cannot live with it. But, I also believe in the slow renewal of the mind. Both are supernatural.

Nik Curfman 1/25/22 Nik Curfman 1/25/22

Vol II: #48 COVID-19, the Destroyer of Goals

Intellect and ego demand a villain. The defendant, in this case, is COVID-19. As of today, I am still positive for the virus according to several tests. But rather than serve my pride, I choose to forget the last 20 plus days of quarantine and frustration. I have decided to laugh at the last three weeks because I can’t think of a more apt response. Nothing develops character or resolve more than winning the moments designed to test your dedication. I win not because I won, but because I will not give up the fight.

Laughing at a problem is far superior to fearing said problem. All the more, it’s best to venture headfirst into the hysterics of belly laughs and stretched cheeks when faced with a stack of crap. By any measure or means, January was not a success for Nik. The first month of 2022 was a stack of crap. Therefore, given the premise developed above, I will giggle and guffaw at the hurdles presented by December’s baby.

I am behooved to confess, I watched a few movies, and some football, and pretty much anything I wanted to consume only four days into my TV fast. The break-up with lady Television didn’t take. She’s a real temptress, easy and available. Take heart, I haven’t given up my quest to live life without boundless entertainment. What lay beyond this break-up is everything I want. In a few days, my strength will return and I’ll renew the battle.

Nik Curfman 1/4/22 Nik Curfman 1/4/22

Vol II: #45 An Opportune Time

I’ve wanted to quit BSSM before it started, and now I know this is the temptation the enemy has for me. I laugh at the tactic because there’s humor in it. Think about this: why would a needed car repair translate into quitting ministry school? There’s no logic to that thought, but this is the opportune time, right? The enemy loves to get on us after an argument, or when the car breaks down, and our bank account runs lower than we’d like. He waits until we are stressed and weak, wanting freedom from these worries. It is this exact moment, as the water leaks into our boat, to throw up our hands to Him.

“…he left Him, until a more opportune time.”
- Luke 4:13

The verse above is from the story of Jesus’ temptation in the desert. Our hero rebukes the Devil’s every advance, and then the bastard leaves…until a more opportune time. I know I read those words ages ago but not until last summer did they stand out from the page. Apparently, the desert dual was not the only instance of temptation. More importantly, the enemy picked his moments- opportune moments- to go after Jesus. We are likely no different.

My last week of life has seen a flurry of uninvited bullshit and happenings. One family member had to have emergency surgery, which was apparently life-threatening. The alternator on my car died- the part that keeps your battery charged. And, I tested positive for COVID with the accompanying symptoms. That’s not to mention my lack of income due to poor market conditions. And I barely want to mention how the Delta lost my luggage for three days because it seems like a minor inconvenience compared to the rest.

In a previous life, I would wail and bemoan my fate: Woah is me. Doesn’t God love me? What am I doing wrong? If I was a better person, this wouldn‘t happen. Of course, these are all lies. It’s just my life.

The one temptation, a repeating thought, is to quit BSSM. At this point, I’d say I tolerate their shenanigans and fervor. They are no different than any other church. Bethel, via Bill, has a sliver of God, a precious piece of His goodness. And, like most churches, they believe their revelation is better than what exists outside their walls. How very normal for a church to be this way. Having attended dozens of churches in my lifetime, this arrogance is common and seems unavoidable.

As I lay in bed, willing myself to watch the class online today, I felt as though I was behind a glass wall. I felt separate and different. I’m no revivalist and have no desire to be one of them. (At this point, I’d say Heidi Baker’s theology is the closest to my own- Love looks like something. It can be a hug or a meal or a miracle. Love changes people, not miracles alone. The point is to introduce people to the love and kindness of Jesus, and that may look different for each person we meet.) Yes. They are good people, living on the edge of what they know to be good and true. I hope we all do. But, it’s not my edge.

My mind often wonders what I could be doing if not for BSSM. No more silly speakers and disorganized meetings. And, no more new friends and meaningful conversations. It is these wonderful people I’ve met, mostly my fellow students, who’ve made the experience worth the price. How could I leave them, in the middle of the year, without a solid reason? I can’t. Moreover, no one at BSSM is asking me to be like them- other than Bill. His style of preaching is not for me and tire very quickly when he speaks.

I’ve wanted to quit BSSM before it started, and now I know this is the temptation the enemy has for me. I laugh at the tactic because there’s humor in it. Think about this: why would a needed car repair translate into quitting ministry school? There’s no logic to that thought, but this is the opportune time, right? The enemy loves to get on us after an arguement, or when the car breaks down, and our bank account runs lower than we’d like. He waits until we are stressed and weak, wanting freedom from these worries. It is this exact moment, as the water leaks into our boat, to throw up our hands to Him.

Lord, I’m here. No matter what happens. You are still good, and so am I.

Nik Curfman 5/24/21 Nik Curfman 5/24/21

Journal: #288 Welcome to the Show

I feel like a kid at the top of the high dive. I want to jump, feel the wind on my cheeks, and splash into the water below. Not only that, but I want to do it well. It’s not enough to leap; I want to do it with style and grace. But that’s not how life works. We’ve got to learn to be scared and alone as we face our fears. No one can do it for us. For the next three months, my task is to learn to jump, be foolish, and look like an amateur.

I am sitting on my couch, looking out the sliding glass door. There are clouds in the sky, which means we are in for a show as the sunsets beyond the mountains. The fading light will catch the nooks and crannies, cast long shadows across the back, and reveal the beautiful red and violet hues of each cloud. These magical sunsets are part of what makes Redding a great place to live, and today might be one of the last days to see one for a while. Once summer arrives, in full force, the clouds will disappear until autumn. I try not to take little moments like this for granted.

Earlier today, my friends Jess and Rob were over for a final visit. Over salads from Chick-Fil-A, we chatted about food and flights, the smaller details of life. It’s their last visit for a while, and I will miss them. My friendship with Jess is twenty years old, and she’s been my backbone through some of the roughest moments of recent life. She took me to the Emergency Room two years ago when I went into shock. And last year, as my world burned, Jess and Rob let me spend many tearful afternoons on their couch. So, I’m not overstating it to say they’ve been with me in some of the darkest hours of my life here in Redding. At times I truly believe the Lord sent them to Redding for me. Just for me. Not joking. Tomorrow Jess and Rob will board a flight back to Texas, the place they call home.

The Lord is good, and He knew I needed to see Jess and Rob before summer hits. Just being in their presence is a blessing, and they always encourage me to grow with God. It’s the best kind of friendship. I’ll miss them, but it’s time for me to grow up. 2021 was uneven, and that’s ok. I don’t expect perfection from myself- or others. I battled shame for a few months, anger, and anxiety too. Compared to last year- when I was motivated to impress a girlfriend and then an ex-girlfriend- the old habits seem to provide more comfort. But I know better. I know I’ve got to take care of myself, love myself, and do the hard things. I’ve got to write, create, and push my vocational boundaries. I need adventure, chaos, and meaning. As amazing as my friends are, they can’t give me what I need. It’s between Jesus and me.

Eventually, I won’t be if I’m willing to try. And I am more than willing. I’ve tried everything else. Foolishness is my only option and path. Next stop: Amature hour. Staring me. Welcome to the show.

I know this post is a bit rambly. When I started writing, I didn’t have anything to say. I found the words as I wrote. Thanks for bearing with me.

Nik Curfman 5/7/21 Nik Curfman 5/7/21

Journal: #275 Ugly Wins

Some victories mean more than others. Some victories are easy and natural, while others are ugly and laborious. Today is an ugly win. I didn’t want to write this blog entry or pray or walk today. But…I’m writing. Soon, I’ll cross the 10k step marks, and the Lord shall hear my voice. I’m not gonna stop pursuing the Lord. I’m not gonna stop loving Him, or stop allowing Him to love me.

Today is a day of going through the motions. Sure, I’m typing, but I feel disconnected. My heart’s not in it, not in writing. All of life seems like a dull ache. It’s ok. I refuse to submit to judgement or cynicism. Just because I feel distant now, doesn’t mean I’ll feel that way tomorrow. Tomorrow brings all the unused potential of today, all the hope, and all the joy. I know it.

Nik Curfman 3/8/21 Nik Curfman 3/8/21

Abstract: Romans 5, If I Wrote It

Hope is the result of trial, the broken heart, and failures,

when we hold on to Him.

In these moments we find He remains.

That’s Love.

Oh yes,

Through faith we do not bypass the dark mountain or scorching pits,

We persevere.

Then onward we slog through the night, always one hand on His back,

Never pausing.

It is in this furnace we are forged,

Hardened and made ready.

We find ourselves unburdened by fear and anger,

rather hope as endless as eternity.

Hope is the result of trial, the broken heart, and failures,

when we hold on to Him.

In these moments we find He remains.

That’s Love.

Like this blog? Share it with people you love.

Nik Curfman 2/23/21 Nik Curfman 2/23/21

Journal: #213 I’m Going To Win

Victory, the kind with parades and praise, is not normal. Today it looked like going on a walk, doing my work, loving my parents, and writing this blog. It’ll end with prayers and gratitude. Whatever tomorrow brings, I know what I’m going to do.

I’m going to win.

Without going into detail, my mind is stuck on a few thoughts I’d rather not think. They aren’t bad or evil, just unproductive. I want to let go and move on. In many ways I have. And, instead of mire in the frustration, I will thank God. Again.

It’s moments like right now I’m grateful I made a commitment to be faithful to Jesus. I thankful I decided to take care of myself. Years ago I would’ve judged myself and sunk into pools of self-pity.

This moment doesn’t own me. It doesn’t define me. It’s just life.

Progress can look like a job promotion or a pat on the back. It can look like a smaller waste and goals achieved. For me, right now, it’s giving myself grace to be imperfect. My brain does thoughts I wish it didn’t. My heart wants things I can’t have. This is what my humanity looks like.

Disappointment is not an excuse to be an asshole or self-destruct. I’d rather be honest and write a blog. I’d rather pray and make room for God to be God, for Him to touch my heart in a way only the Lord can.

I’m going to win.

Like this blog? Share it with people you love.

Nik Curfman 2/2/21 Nik Curfman 2/2/21

Journal: #194 Old Poet Young at Heart

I’ve got plenty of growing to do, with plenty of writing, editing, and frustrations to come. The goal is to be an old poet young at heart. The goal is to be 90 and still have a voice worth using.

I watched the Netflix special Miss Americana about Taylor Swift today. Why? I don’t know. I wouldn’t say I’m a fan of her music, but I have a few of her songs committed to memory. Perhaps, I like her career arc.

Taylor Swift is Human

Taylor Swift was and is a human who wanted to sing songs for people, which propelled her to the top of the music world. With all that fame, expectation and money she was bound to make mistakes and have her share of haters. From my corner of Redding, that’s my view of it. When she started strumming her guitar, there’s no way anyone knew what would come next.

though Different I Can Relate

Let’s get the hilariousness out of the way. No. I don’t share a lot commonalities with a major pop star. Practically zero. What fascinated me were two parts of Ms Swift’s history. First, she is- or was- an epic people pleaser. And two, she wrote 150 songs by the time she was 15.

Of anything about Taylor Swift, I can relate to the people pleaser. I can relate to the desperate need for praise and affirmation, because I was unable to believe in me. Whatever anyone thinks about the woman, it’s obvious she fought for herself. I respect her ability to admit her neediness.

When she spoke about her legendary songwriting I was floored. 150 songs? By 15? Good Lord. How incredible is that? It gave me hope.

Hope in My Storms

The sun came out for the day in Redding. I took the opportunity to go for a morning stroll to soak in the fresh rays. As will happen this time of year, some heavy clouds lay off to the south. It created a very dramatic scene of dark ominous clouds and glorious sunshine.

Instantly, my heart began to weave a narrative about the storm clouds and the beautiful sun. When I got home, I typed out the lines to my last poem Sunshine and the Storm. It’s messy and needs revised but something about it struck a cord with me.

Well that Sucked

In my delight, I posted my poem to Instagram. Six hours later, its garnered a handful of likes and few encouraging comments. I hoped for more. That’s the shitty thing about writing. It’s subjective, and posting to Instagram is hardly a great platform for it. And, I’m not brilliant as I’d like to be.

So, I was feeling a bit down until I watched Ms Swift tell her story. The real nugget is she worked on her craft for years, even as a child, before she ever stepped on a stage. She was a young star, but an old songwriter. I’m a young writer, but a middle-aged man. That’s a strength too.

Goal: Be an Old Poet, Young at Heart

I’ve got plenty of growing to do, with plenty of writing, editing, and frustrations to come. The goal is to be an old poet young at heart. The goal is to be 90 and still have a voice worth using.

The trail I decided to hike is long, and today it felt a little longer. Nonetheless, I’m in it. There’s no turning back. I’m gonna write and blog and never stop.

*(Documentaries are not documentaries any more. They are marketing films. Miss Americana is Taylor Swift’s version of her life, what she wants us to know. It’s basically an 85 minutes commercial.)

Thank you Lord for the bright sun and gloomy clouds. Thank you for pop stars, and the opportunity to completely turn my life in the direction I needed to go. Your grace and kindness sustain me. It’s awesome. Thank you.

Amen.