Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 6/20/21 Nik Curfman 6/20/21

Abstract: Race

The path twists up the mountain and through the wood,

the running herd thins as each person finds their stride,

the echoes of love fade to silence.

A crowd gathers at the starting line,

runners and onlookers alike,

eager to run and cheer.

The gun marks the moment of truth,

as competitors sprint down the path,

and final encouragements shouted.

The path twists up the mountain and through the wood,

the running herd thins as each person finds their stride,

the echoes of love fade to silence.

For the remainder of the race,

each runner must now focus on the trail,

the challenge unfolding step-by-step.

Some quit as soon as they venture out of earshot,

Others turn aside as the mountain trail climbs,

While the rest push on.

Slowly the path turns back,

to the start,

where praise and accomplishment meet.

Life is like a race.

Fans and love at the start,

comfort and praise at the end.

What happens in between— where and how far we venture- is up to us.

Nik Curfman 6/20/21 Nik Curfman 6/20/21

Journal: #312 Father’s Day

My dad is an affectionate and complicated man. He loves dead cow meat, science fiction, and his grandchildren. Straight answers to simple questions are hard to get, and he’s always ready to defend his position on a subject. He grew up a farm kid and is the first generation of Curfman to move away from agricultural life. Without help or encouragement, he forged a new life and future for our family. I’m proud of him.

I prefer to remember people in the round— meaning the sum of who they are. It helps me to see people in their context. Yes, my father is imperfect, which is why I take joy in watching him grow old. He continues to push himself and fight to live. Battling both cancer and depression, he tends his garden, loves on grandkids, and serves my mother the best he can. He is, in the truest sense of the word, an overcomer. Of all the gifts a man can give his son, the ability to fight for life is one of the greatest. I battle my demons and fears because that’s what I’ve seen my Father do.

Happy Father’s Day to my dad. Thanks for being there for me and our family. I love you.

Nik Curfman 6/19/21 Nik Curfman 6/19/21

Journal: #311 Walk in the Shade

A small (super small) part of me thinks taking an “easier” path is cowardly. How dumb. How absolutely toxic. First of all, it was a hike. Secondly, I made life easier on myself while doing a hard thing. The easiest choice would’ve been to keep my ass at home on the couch.

I finished my longest hike of 2021 moments ago. It wasn’t the wisest decision given the aggressive heat now blistering Northern California. My mind and legs told me to turn around five minutes into the trek. So, I hatched a plan and decided to walk in the shade whenever possible. The one drawback to my scheme was whether or not I would increase the time of the trip, thereby nullifying any benefit of the shade. I’m happy to report I was wrong.

Each step I took in the shade gave me the strength to go three more. The second half of the trip included a slight but delightful breeze. During the last mile, the sun cast long shadows. Combined with the breeze, the hike was pleasant, even though the temperature was 105º. I rewarded myself with a huge bottle of water and a banana.

A small (super small) part of me thinks taking an “easier” path is cowardly. How dumb. How absolutely toxic. First of all, it was a hike. Secondly, I made life easier on myself while doing a hard thing. The easiest choice would’ve been to keep my ass at home on the couch.

Nik Curfman 6/18/21 Nik Curfman 6/18/21

Journal: #310 Friday Thoughts

Not much to say today. My week ended well after been a bit stressed. I think a big reason for that is the lack of patience I wrote about yesterday. Today, I spent most of the day “being present.” Then I allowed myself to think about a few things.

1) Isn’t it odd, the contrast between our hopes and expectations? Our hopes are great, but our expectations are usually low. In my life, I think my hopes rely on outside forces and supernatural intervention. My expectations reflect my confidence in myself. (It’s why I get anxious when I think about life more than one year at a time. I know what I’m doing for the next year. And…I believe I know where I’ll be in 2023. Beyond that, in more detail? I can’t indulge it.) I’m working on raising my expectations of myself.

2) Limitations are the soil of innovation. One of the skills I learned from years in the kitchen is the ability to ask “what can I do with this?” It’s an essential question for cooks and chefs. It’s how a restaurant makes money. Due to an abundance of avocadoes, I got creative. This week I began smashing avocadoes with all types of ingredients- cabbage, riced cauliflower, parmesan cheese. You heard it from me first: Dill pickles and avocado were made for each other.

3) Costco has an outstanding hard parmesan cheese right now. It’s like eating a glass of fine wine except it’s buttery and delicious.

4) I’ll end this hodgepodge post with my new favorite YouTube videos. I started to watch bird-watching and public space videos. I provided examples to clarify.

Nik Curfman 6/17/21 Nik Curfman 6/17/21

Journal: #309 Practicing Patience

This summer is a perfect opportunity to practice what the Lord taught me about patience. He showed me patience is tied to faith and vision. Big changes are the result of thousands of small choices. And, patience requires dedication and finesse. Patience IS NOT waiting*. Waiting is what powerless people do at the DMV. Patience is what the faithful display when they trust the Lord. So I will be faithful. The Lord has me. There’s no better place to be than where I am.

I’ve always been that kid, the one to bemoan the journey as soon as it starts. Oddly, I love all the talk and planning of a journey. The analysis of data, allocation of resources, and plan of action are what I consider fun. But, once my butt is in the seat, I tend to get bored. My mind drifts and anxiety mounts. (My mom will tell you. As a child, two hours into a ten hour car ride from South Carolina to Pennsylvania, I would whine. And not just “are we there yet?” No, no. I told my mother she was lost, and we needed my dad.) I suppose it’s why I find myself drawn to careers and jobs with uncertainty.

I said it the other day and I’ll write it again. I’ve been a shit lately, a child. I’m sitting in the back of the car, whining to God about the length of the trip. He’s gracious and laughs at my sophomoric reaction to life. (Like my mother, the Lord doesn’t get lost. He knows the route.)

For the last two months Netflix suggested I watch The Terminal starring Tom Hanks. While I love Tom Hanks and like the movie, I can think of few less desirable ways to spend time than waiting in an airport. But, after months of suggestions, I caved. Within the first few minutes I was reminded of what makes that movie so intriguing. The main character, Viktor Navorski, chose to stay in the terminal until legally cleared to enter America. It’s almost annoying. The movie ends with Viktor cleared to enter America, a miracle from his unrequited love interested. Also, annoying.

Perhaps The Terminal is the Lord’s way of encouraging me to remain patient— to make the most of each day and situation I encounter. Or, perhaps that’s what I read from it. Regardless, it’s a story few of us want to to mimic. I want to charge off the plane, down the terminal, through the sliding doors, on to my great future.

Nik Curfman 6/17/21 Nik Curfman 6/17/21

Abstract: Power of Love

The Bible is the story of God’s attempt to love us.

And the biggest sin isn’t rape or murder,

it’s separation from Him.

There is one Law above all others,

upon which all the Law depends,

and the prophets,

and faith.

This edict comes from the Messiah on high,

to Love the Lord with every ounce of life force we’ve got,

then to do the same do our neighbors and enemies.

Jesus called this Perfect Love,

as the Father does.

What if sin is similar,

one sin to rule them all…

The beginning of destruction and death.

It would have to be simple, ignorable and painless,

easy to justify and carry out,

Routine even…

Sunday school taught us the story of original sin:

A snake slithered into the idyllic garden,

Eve, then Adam disobeyed orders from the bearded God,

All of humanity doomed in a moment of desire,

by a choice.

What if Sunday school is wrong?

What if the sin wasn’t disobedience,

but the cover-up?

Like guilty children, they hid in the closet,

waiting for punishment and condemnation.

Their eyes opened to the fragility of life,

and the consequence of separation.

We do not know if indeed this was the first sin.

Who’s to say Adam and Eve sinned before this moment?

But, it was handled in a different way.

Unburdened by shame, Adam might announce his lie to the Father,

Eve her theft.

Then like a good Father, He corrected their mistakes,

no punishment, no tears.

Humans learning how to love each other.

The Bible is the story of God’s attempt to love us.

And the biggest sin isn’t rape or murder,

it’s separation from Him.

Cut-off from Him,

any terrible crime is possible,

The Holocaust, Jim Crow,

greed and war.

No one, who chooses to behold the glory of God,

on a daily, committed basis,

can stand the sight or sounds of violence,

or shame.

We offer poor help to those in need,

the ones stuck in cycles of self-destruction and sorrow.

We tell them to “stop sinning.”

When the answer is to “Love Jesus.”

If our days are full of meetings and routines,

disappointments, little pleasures, and hope,

but we do not have the Lord,

we are dead.

We are props to be used.

In Him is all life.

The ability to create,

Space to grow,

and the endurance to Love as commanded.

More than that, there is no sin,

not because sin is absent,

but because its power is cut-off and nullified,

Forever void.

This is the power of His Love.

Nik Curfman 6/16/21 Nik Curfman 6/16/21

Journal: #308 Learning Is A Process, So Quit Being Impatient

I find comfort in the knowledge of why adults struggle with change. It’s not about age but determination. We struggle because we have systems and routines in place. Even broken, we tolerate them. It’s what we know, as though we never learned to add or subtract. We found a way around the problem, and learning the proper method requires work and patience. My personal testimony- the story of this blog so far- is how frustrating and joyful the process is.

I wrote the title to this post for my benefit. Over the last three months, the Lord reinforced several concepts. I’ve written about them in recent weeks. They include: keeping life simple, showing up every day, self-appreciation, and faith. I’m grateful for the reminder but also a bit embarrassed. I think thoughts like I’m an adult. How long does it take to learn and live a new reality? The question is hilarious when I ask it aloud. But, the answer is apparent and obvious. It takes as long as it takes.

The word repentance surfaces in my mind. As a child and young adult, I believed repentance was akin to confession. At 40, I see repentance as a major life choice (or set of choices.) Repentance isn’t saying, “I’ll never steal again.” True repentance is saying, “I’ll work never to put myself into a situation to steal again.” It goes to the root of the issues rather than trim the branches. It’s also a ton of work. Sure, the Lord could zap me with magic God dust. He could remove all my bad habits, but I’d still need some habits or routines. In this light, repentance is an active pursuit. It’s a commitment to stop one set of thoughts/actions and begin new thoughts/actions.

As frustrated and ashamed as I feel at times, I can’t turn back. Whatever success I tasted in the last few years, I know I will not sink back into a defeated version of me. I accept the ebbs and flows of pursuing the kingdom, the dips of motivation, and moments of despair. That was my life before; at least I have a purpose now. At least, I live in a constant relationship with the Lord, and I believe in myself. And, I’m not that poor. I’m rich in love and relationships.

Part of my transition is being ok when I’m unhinged. There’s a place where I allow myself to process negative thoughts and emotions— without shaming myself. The problem is it goes against how men are “supposed to act.” My dad and brother rarely say shit about how they think or feel. Good or bad. But, I know they are both deeply emotional men. Neither hides their emotions well, so it’s funny to watch them deny it. I know when my dad or brother is nervous, excited, annoyed, etc.

I do not blame the men in my family for issues expressing myself. They represent male culture at large for their respective generations. Fortunately, the younger generations are willing to change the narrative. (They are willing to talk about what hurts them, which is often seen as weakness. It’s not. No wound is healed by ignoring it.)

So here I am, caught between cultures and generations. I just wanna follow the Lord. To do it, I’ve got to be ok with my imperfection. How ironic is that? To follow the Lord, I don’t need to be perfect. I’m not required to live up to the American standard of emotionally immature masculinity. I get to kick ass and talk about how hard it is. LOLOLOLOL. (I’m not going to talk about the ease of anything.)

Nik Curfman 6/15/21 Nik Curfman 6/15/21

Journal: #307 End of COIVD Restrictions

We need to give ourselves more credit for how we adapted to a tough situation. We made it. In the face of everything that happened in the last 15 months, we are still standing. You wanna know what sucks? No one is celebrating. We’re too busy trying to one-up our political enemies. Not me. Not today. I’m taking part of my day to remember all the people- around the f*cking globe- who suffered and lost. I will celebrate those who made it through. And, I’ll pray for the people in countries still ravaged by the virus.

I doubt very few of us marked the day COVID restrictions began. For those of us in California, our quarantine/lockdown/restrictions started on March 19th, 2020. By early April, even the most conservative states enacted some form of restrictions. No one knew this was coming, knew how long it would last, or what the lasting effects will be. In my opinion, and despite the national tendency to be cynical, I think we did a well as we’re capable of doing. Yes, I believe President Trump could’ve been a better leader. It’s hard to say how many lives his divisive leadership cost, but I think he did as well as Trump could do. He did the right thing by forcing through the vaccine.

I’ve thought a lot about what COVID changes will remain. We were given a brief glimpse into a different life- a coronavirus blessing. Young dads had the opportunity to see what they missed by being away from their families while being productive as workers. Commuters discovered the blessing of more time. And e-commerce thrived.

June 15h, 2021, is a day I’ll remember, and cry, and celebrate.

Nik Curfman 6/14/21 Nik Curfman 6/14/21

Abstract: Doodles

A doodle is not a doodle,

rather a link in the chain,

from here to there,

from scared to active.

Why don’t I draw more?

What am I waiting for?

I’m waiting on a giant missile,

to destroy my apathy,

and energize my vision,

a sudden burst of eternal motivation and drive.

I know now it’s not coming.

There will be no grand reveal or impartation,

no, not for me.

My success, the completion of my race,

is in the little efforts made,

the daily grind of a small drawing,

intentional marks on the page.

A doodle is not a doodle,

rather a link in the chain,

from here to there,

from scared to active.

I want to create things,

that hit people in the chest,

and melt their battered minds,

but first, I must be content to draw shoes, and birds,

and the trees outside my window.

Nik Curfman 6/14/21 Nik Curfman 6/14/21

Journal: #306 Another Round With Anxiety

Today is one of those days where everything is rotten, broken, or shabby. It feels like I’m trying to climb a greased wall, blindfolded, with stubs for hands. To add to the frustration, I feel simultaneously forgotten and belittled. Both are perceptions of how the world sees me. I know both feelings are wrong, which doesn’t make me feel better. No. Ironically, I feel worse knowing my thoughts are wrong. I hate battling this shit.

Today is one of those days where everything is rotten, broken, or shabby. It feels like I’m trying to climb a greased wall, blindfolded, with stubs for hands. To add to the frustration, I feel simultaneously forgotten and belittled. Both are perceptions of how the world sees me. I know both feelings are wrong, which doesn’t make me feel better. No. Ironically, I feel worse knowing my thoughts are wrong. I hate battling this shit.

I was supposed to kick it with a buddy tonight, Nathan. He’s a kid to me, at 26 years old. We meant to celebrate his engagement. I am eager to do so, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m not going to push myself to the back and pretend to be ok with the world. I love my friend. If he were me, I’d tell him to do exactly what I’m doing.

Lies, fear and inward navel-gazing are how I am attacked. What I love about this moment is I know how to handle it. I’m going to spend the rest of my evening doing what it takes to push back the darkness and bullshit. That’s all it is. I’ve done this before, and it’ll happen again. I’m not sure a complete victory of anxiety is possible, but I do believe I walk in victory over it. I win by fight back, asking questions, and declaring the truth. The truth I am not rotten or broken.

PS- Mom, I’m ok.

Nik Curfman 6/13/21 Nik Curfman 6/13/21

Journal: #305 Walking Out The Final Steps of Grief

Today is as close to romantic square one as I can be. No interests, nothing interesting. Not yet. It feels like the place to be. The secondary point of grieving is to create space for something new (by processing pain, which is the first point.) Many of us don’t have room for new because we never properly let go of the old. While I am embarrassed at the amount of time required to heal, I am glad I let myself do it.

(Today’s blog post is a bit of an embarrassment to write. It would be easier for me to avoid it, but that’s not the spirit of my writing. Here we go.)

When I broke with my last girlfriend, just over a year ago, I decided to handle it with as much grace and dignity as I could muster. I didn’t argue with her, call names, or subtly try to work my way back into her life. I allowed myself to grieve the moment, but my embarrassment stems from how long the grieving process is. Or, has been. I feel like I did something wrong, even though I did not.

Overall, I’m happy with the progress I made. This week felt like the final mile of the grieving process. Throughout the week, the Lord put people and messages in front of me. It started with how “exes can’t be friends” and ended with “everyone’s got embarrassing shit.” The latter I heard from two different sources. And honestly, I can’t remember hearing or seeing one single word on exes being friends until last week. (When the Lord has something to say He says it over and over until we hear and under it. He’s not an asshole whispering in the wind.)

Today is as close to romantic square one as I can be. No interests, nothing interesting. Not yet. Feels like the place to be. The secondary point of grieving is to create space for something new (by processing pain, which is the first point.) Many of us don’t have room for new because we never properly let go of the old. While I am embarrassed at the amount of time required to heal, I am glad I let myself do it.

Nik Curfman 6/12/21 Nik Curfman 6/12/21

Journal: #304 Silence Over Crowds

I took a long way home, which led to almost four hours in the car today. Not exactly the plan. It’s ok. I enjoyed the quiet of the ride. No radio or phone, just me and the late spring sun. It was good. I thought about all the people I know or met. It’s a lot. I thought about the life I live, how different it is from my parents. Change is the true constant. Nothing profound or original. My heart needed a rest today, and I’m ok with that.

I woke up later than normal this morning and felt a nagging need to be productive. I told myself “today is Saturday” and sank bank into bed for another hour. This laid-back approach to the day led to an unplanned— yet serene- day. I decided to go hiking around Mount Lassen, my favorite spot. According to the internet, the weather is perfect and most of the trails are open. I packed a lunch, some water, and off I went. But once I got to the park, I didn’t stay long. The post-COVID travel rush is real. All my normal spots- Kings Creek, the Upper Meadow, and Bumpass Hell Trail- were jammed with people. The license plates, while mostly from California, represented states from as far away as Georgia and Florida. I was also happy to see a handful of plates from our neighbors to the North.