Different is not bad, just, different

“I’d love to go back to when we played as kids but things changed, and that’s the way it is.”

- Social activist Tupac Shakur

This past weekend my friend Amulya came up from Houston, TX to visit me, and see my new life in Portland. It was probably the best weekend of my life.

It was easy to plan because we more or less like the same things, so we basically did everything I’ve done in Portland that I thought was cool. This included biking everywhere in the rain, sitting on our laptops and chatting at coffee shops, perusing Powell’s bookstore while drunk, enjoying local beers at brew pubs, and of course, cute breakfast places.

At the end of the exhausting visit, we were sitting at the airport waiting for his delayed flight and drinking more tea. We were already reminiscing about the trip, and talking about deep things like soulmates and personal bests. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a young couple walking around with a kid.

That quick glimpse was Amulya and I’s future. Like much of modern society, we would probably get married, have kids, and not have the luxury to just drop everything one weekend and do nothing but drink coffee, talk shit, and burn through a ton of cash.

Amulya reminded me of a couple wise things:

When we were kids, we loved playing Madden 04 at my house. If he had told me that when we went off to college we wouldn’t be able to do this anymore, I would have been sad, and feared the change. However, when we actually got to college it was a ton of fun visiting each other and catching up on each other’s lives.

In the future, if we only see each other once every blue moon, and we sit around drinking tea while our kids play with oversized blocks, that’d be fun.

If we live in the same city, and get coffee every Sunday morning and talk shit, that’d be fun too.

If we work in the same place and argue over budget cuts at office meetings, well, that’d be fun too.

Any number of options would really work, but of course, the question is: are any of the options ideal?

It’s hard to say, but I guess I’m starting to internalize the idea that different isn’t better or worse, it’s just, different. They are all great, they just take different kinds of appreciation. I feel like I’d much rather accept whatever situation I get put into as the best, and get as much as I can from it rather than pine for some vague made up notion of “ideal.”

It’s pretty hard, if not impossible, to compare how “good” an experience is. This past weekend was definitely a ton of fun, and I plan on referring to it as “the best weekend ever.” But can I really say it was more fun than the time he visited me at Kenyon? Or more fun than the time I surprise visited him at his favorite coffee shop at his college?

Maybe life is more along the lines of an Eastern way of thought, accepting each day as a god, taking everything it has to offer, and also just appreciating the meaning of everything.

All that said, I am really hoping to have a roommate next June.

from ken

Are you thinking about something? Write about it and post it here! Email me! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

Is Christianity relevant?

Currently at church we’re doing something called advent conspiracy, where the idea is to give one less Christmas gift and instead donate that money to an international cause. Our church is getting at this point through creativity and art. My girlfriend painted something to contribute to this project, and so I shared an interpretation of her painting.

We were supposed to discuss bible verses, Matthew 25:31 – 46, which to summarize: the blessed are those that help people.

Ok, now, this is what I shared (paraphrased and revised):

I think in these verses, Matthew is getting at the core of social justice, and what it means to follow God. Simply put, helping those in need of help. So I wanted to start with something I heard the other day when I was at Danna and Katie’s bible study studying James 2.

James writes, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?” We talked a lot about how people should show what they believe through their actions. If Christians believe in God they should let their actions speak for themselves and love everyone, regardless of the social implications.

But interestingly, James only touches on faith with no action. He has nothing to say about action with no faith.

This lead me to the obvious question: If action is faith, then what is the point of Christianity? Should we all just stop coming to church and worship activist gods like Martin Luther King and Gandhi? Does this make Jesus irrelevant?

So for a while I kept thinking about this and I think my answer to that question is why I need God.

Christianity is relevant because helping other people is really, really, hard.

Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with people. I couldn’t live without people, and I am constantly blown away at how good people are to me. But at the same time, they ruin my plans, they cut into my time, and they just generally bring chaos into my life.

Because I hate people, helping people is hard. It’s easy to take on too much, it’s exhausting, and it constantly challenges you. Really, it’s just a pain to focus on other people. It seems way too easy to burnout in a life of following God and helping people.

But I think with God we have the ultimate pillar to lean on. God is an endless stream of living water to refresh us. When we lack discipline, God can help us. When we lack energy, God can help us. When we lack courage, still God can help us. And that’s why Christianity is still relevant to me.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

From the one who has been entrusted with much,

Sidenote to start: I struggled a lot with writing this post. Largely because it has a similar to tone to a previous post I wrote that I felt was too judgmental. However, I have a piece of paper taped to my door that says, “TODAY, BE TRUE TO YOURSELF.” I think this anger is a part of my voice, so I’m just going to trust, and let it come out…

Recently there was a foiled terrorist attack at a downtown Portland Christmas tree lighting. link I was talking with some friends about how he should be thrown in jail and never see the light of day. How could someone say they wanted to kill as many innocent children as possible?

One of the greatest thinkers of our time, Malcolm Gladwell, a columnist for The New Yorker, recently wrote a book called Outliers. In the book, Gladwell debunks the American myth of individual success being attributed to individual effort. Instead, he supports a societal perspective of success in which the privileged receive more opportunity for success, a theory called “The Matthew Effect,” named after a verse in the Gospel of Matthew:

“For unto everyone that has shall be given, and he shall have in abundance. But from him that has not shall be taken away even that which he has.”

I believe “The Matthew Effect” is real. I have a first hand recollection of it. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a suburban world, taught general rules of politely interacting with other human beings, and without being that motivated, I found myself binge drinking Keystone Lights while receiving a degree from a competitive liberal arts college.

At said liberal arts college, I encountered several incredible mentors: Coach Duane Gomez, Campus Minister Jeff Bergeson, and Professor Joan Slonczewski. They were all painstakingly patient with me and waited for me to come into my own, but also supported me when I wanted to push. In all three cases, they just randomly fell along my path.

In addition to outstanding mentors, at an impressionable stage, the people that fell into my life weren’t drug addicts or manipulative pimps, but a girl that opened my eyes to the global atrocities of the have’s and have-not’s, and slowly got me to think outside of my small selfish mind.

My story of individual success is due to this incredible environment. It gave me sufficient time to be coddled so I could develop into my own. Which begs the question? What did I do to deserve all this? And better yet, what did other late-bloomers do not to deserve this? That’s fucked up.

It’s easy to get guilt-tripped about falling ass backwards into success. Gladwell, a New York Times best-selling author who was also surrounded by a great developmental environment, says about his book, “Outliers wasn’t intended as an autobiography. But you could read it as an extended apology for my success.”

I don’t think guilt is the right response. I don’t think such opportunities exist in the world so we can feel bad about our success, apologize, and hide in our shadows. So what is the right response? Well, the Gospel of Luke has additional ideas about those privileged few.

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

The Outliers framework suggests that society is responsible for individual success, but I want to extend the idea and claim that society is also responsible for individual failure.

I believe the failed terrorist attack in Portland was not an individual failure, but a societal one. This failure is not the responsibility of this poor 19 year old. It falls squarely on the shoulders of the society that puts violence, war, and power on a pedestal. It falls on the mentors that weren’t in place to teach him moral values. It falls on his peers that weren’t there to love him, and show him the incredible value of even a single human being. It falls on all of us.

It’s up to each individual to take what they like from the Gospel of Luke quote. But I believe for those privileged few in this messed up world, like it or not, we are the leaders of society. It is a lot to ask to fix the world. It’s super fucked up. But recently I’ve been hearing the stories of a lot of people who got the short-end of the society stick, and I think it’s our responsibility to capitalize on our opportunity and rectify societal failures.

"And Quenton Cassidy moved out into the second lane, the lane of high hopes, and ran out the rest of the life in him."

- John L. Parker, Once A Runner

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

the about me page

So I recently updated my about page.

The "about this blog" section is still vague because, to be honest, I really don't know what this blog is about. Primarily, it's just a vehicle for me to practice my writing. I really see writing as an important part of my life in the coming days. If people want to read it, I'm thrilled to hear comments, but if not, I'm just happy to have the opportunity to write. I'm not sure why, but it feels like the right place to be.

The "about me" section is a little more solidified. I read a cool book called What Happy People Know by Dan Baker, a happiness psychologist. He outlines what qualities he sees in happy people, and one of his important ones is that happy people know where they are in life and where they want to be headed, if only vaguely. Basically, he suggests knowing your "life story" in a three sentence version or so. I've seen various permutations of this idea - a six word life summary, a word to summarize your life, etc. So anyways, that's what I tried to do the about me section, copied/pasted:

My name is Ken Noguchi. There are two things you should know about me:

1- I want to change the world.
2- I don't have a middle name, but I always wished it started with E, so my initials could be KEN.

I just graduated from Kenyon College, a rural school in Ohio, and moved out to Portland, Oregon to work as a lab manager at Oregon Health & Science University. Our lab studies the signaling mechanisms behind iron homeostasis. My dream is to manage a holistic health organization that takes a radical interdisciplinary approach to empower people to take care of other people.

I try to spend as much time as possible: being with people so I can learn to hate people less, reading and writing so I can learn to better communicate truth, and hanging out at coffee shops so I can be trendy.

If you are reading this blog for the first time, please start with the first post, "In the beginning..."

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

same as it ever was

I touched ground in PDX on May 27th. That means I’ve officially been living in Portland for six whole months. From my 21-year old perspective, that’s a damn long time. Since then, I’ve gone through about 40 containers of plain nonfat yogurt. I figured if I ate enough of it the flavor would grow on me. I still don’t like it; it’s tangy and, well, plain. On the other hand, I’m still going on the same bottle of hand soap, which either means I’m frugal with my resources, or I don’t always wash my hands after I pee.

Anyways, thinking back on my time in the Pacific Northwest, I realized that I'm torn by two sides. On one hand, I love adventure. For me to fully have life, it’s all about new experiences, places, people. I want to be somewhere long enough not to be touristy and learn some of the ins and outs of a new world, but also short enough to challenge my mind and soul from getting stale.

I grew up a Boston kid, but I applied to colleges everywhere except New England. I only got into one, so I shipped off to Ohio for school. I never went abroad, so I spent a full four years there, and even though I was ready to get out after year four, I loved it.

At Kenyon, I was a molecular biology major, but I’ve already forgotten just about everything I knew about the Ni-Fe catalytic subunit of hydrogenase-3. What did stick with me is my friends. I loved all those early Sunday mornings suffering on hungover 15 mile long runs when someone feels the need to drop it to 6 minute pace when we're still 5 miles out from campus, and also all those late-night-caffeine-driven working sprees spent on senior projects.

At another stage of life I spent a summer in Wyoming waiting tables. Before that summer my conception of the west was Kansas, which I later learned is the center of the country. I didn’t know anybody out there, but I jumped on the opportunity to have more story-worthy experiences. It turned out to be that and more: I climbed Middle Teton, recited Robert Frost's poetry to drunk Turks, ran a 100 mile week, experienced alone time with God for the first time. Wyoming will always be a part of my heart.

As I reached the end of college I applied to jobs everywhere but New England and the Midwest, but I knew I wanted to see the west coast, and the Northwest in particular. Again, I didn’t know anybody out here, but a lab from Oregon contacted me, and within days I had committed to a two-year stay. When I told my friends about my sudden move to Portland, I was told on multiple occasions, “Such a Ken thing.” I was proud to be associated with such a bold decision.

I loved the thrill of these adventures. I love going to sleep at night thinking, “Wow, I can’t believe my life is real. This is so much cooler than I expected.”

But at the same time, at every stop, I feel like I’ve struggled with the same thing.

When I first got to college, it was hard to swallow seeing my high school friends sprout new lives. In Wyoming, I spent hours on the rec hall payphone isolating myself and talking to my then girlfriend while my friends would stroll in and play some pool. Now in Portland, some of my biggest highlights are waiting for my old friends to visit and experience my new world with me. (Sidenote: two of said old friends, Amulya and Keyser, are visiting me in the next two months!)

This struggle is my second side, one that asks, “Why make new and different friends? I already love the ones I have!”

So maybe, the more the circumstances in your life change, the more it reveals how your core character stays the same. Going from farmland Ohio to picturesque Wyoming to urban Portland, it's made me realize that at every step of my life, my core has revolved around missing my old friends and seeking out new friends.

Kind of a sidenote, but if you’ve ever read the news, you’ve probably realized the world is fucked. Earthquakes regularly target the most vulnerable, the Middle East will always be at the end stages of war, and sex will always dominate everything else. I guess, in such a world, relationship is the one glimmer of hope of what I think life was meant to be. People were meant to have friends, to love and be loved.

But I guess adventure forces me to branch out and find new and different friends. I just need to remember different doesn’t mean worse, it just means, different.

So after six months in Portland, this is what I know: white guys really knew how to dance in the 80's, I’m excited for the new relationships I’m finding, and I count myself as incredibly lucky to have old friends that will put up with me even when I’m miles and miles away.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

People Helping People

I’ve been excited to write a post reflecting back on my first six months out of college/in Portland (not this post), and one of the things it’s made me realize is that my biggest struggle is the same as it was in college.

I tend to throw myself into too many things, a sort of, my eyes being bigger than my stomach mentality:

Oh yeah, of course I can take on that additional responsibility at church. Learn a new mouse surgery technique? No problem. Dinner on Wednesday night? Sure! Activism group? Sign me up!

I had this exact problem in college, and I still haven’t struck a good balance of giving myself a break.

The other night, I had a few of my friends over. One of them was my friend Maureen, who is a real southern smily girl that says y’all, a novelty in the northwest. As we were chatting she explained her struggles in her job search. She was especially frustrated because she had such amazing work experiences before moving to the young-people-mecca of Portland, aka job-hell.

My other friend Lee, who is the kind of guy that covers his face in makeup and wears a diaper to be a baby for Halloween, chimed in with a similar situation. His first job as a chef was amazingly rewarding, but when his second job didn’t match up to that same level of meaningfulness, he could barely handle it.

I had similar experiences. In my undergrad lab, a bacterial physiology lab, my experiments worked so beautifully that I had myself thinking I had a god-given scientist’s touch. I had ample data to put together a publication within an academic year of working part-time, an impressive feat. However, it wasn’t easy because of my unreal talent as a scientist, which after seeing the hyper-competitive world of biomedical research is admittedly average, but because bacteria are used to growing in weird places like your fridge. That makes them easier to grow and a lot easier for me to churn out good results.

On the other hand, I work with mammalian liver cells now. Have you ever seen mammalian cells popping up in your old milk? No? Well that’s because they’re needy and aren’t engineered to grow outside of your skin. Basically, that just means it’s a lot tougher to handle them. My experimental success rate has plummeted lower than I ever imagined. Seeing wave after wave of failure and troubleshooting is exhausting.

But that night the simple act of sharing reminded me that everyone struggles. I’m not unique in having stress in my life! Of course, that’s intuitive but to share those burdens is a beautiful thing. It not only lightens the load of the sharer, but it was a great reminder for me as the selfish listener that the world doesn’t stop when I’m stressed and that other people have anxiety too.

Maybe chicken little was right when he said the sky was falling, and maybe all we can do is to accept that life is stressful, be nice to each other, keep each other company, share, and laugh a little along the way.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

Miracle in the Andes

I just finished reading Miracle in the Andes by Nando Parrado and Vince Rause, a true story about the 1972 plane crash that left an Uruguayan rugby team stranded in the Andes for more than two months. The story has been told before, but Parrado, one of the heroes of the trip, offers some very insightful thoughts about what he learned during this unimaginable ordeal.

I don't want to give too much away because I think every reader should encounter this book with their own perspective and with their own lives in mind, but one of my favorite ideas is summarized in the following quote:

"Death has an opposite, but the opposite is not mere living. It is not courage or faith or human will. The opposite of death is love."

This book definitely touches on many issues of faith and philosophy, but at its core it is a story about the incredible power of love.

Caution: This book frequently brought me on the verge of tears, so if you're reading it in a public place or are particularly emotional, you have been warned.




Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

What do you do everyday?

I was sitting at church, zoning in and out, as I tend to in the mornings. One head bob jolted me back like a slap in the face, and they were talking about 90x prayer, an activity in which you pray 13 minutes a day to develop the discipline of prayer.

13 minutes broken up over the course of the day doesn’t seem that overwhelming or even that significant. But when you look at it over the course of a week, it quickly adds up to 90 minutes.

It got me thinking, man that’d be great to be like Martin Luther King Jr. who was once asked, “I heard you pray three times a day, but what do you do those days when you’re so busy?” To this, King replied, “Those days, I pray five times.”

On an unrelated note, one of my coworkers, Carl, a new dad, was telling me about his parenting struggles. He’s an incredibly hard worker, and he spends most of his time slaving away in the lab. Unfortunately, this means that there isn’t much time left to spend with his daughter. His daughter, Anna, spends most of his time with her mom, and she breaks out in a crying fit whenever her mom leaves the room, even when Carl is there. I’ve hardened myself to deal with failure, but I don’t know if I could swallow rejection like that.

Another one of our labmates, a veteran mom, interjected, ”Oh it’s just a phase, you just need to snap her out of it. Just go home everyday around four o clock for a couple hours and spend time with your daughter, then when she goes to sleep come back and work some more. It’ll take a while, but soon enough she’ll love you.”

The 90x prayer and fatherhood struggles reminded me of Amulya’s post on small change. It’s easy to make one or two glamorous decisions every once in a while. That doesn’t take that much work. But how come small change is so much more important to your true character?

I wrote about this thought a while back but it seems important so I’ll rehash it,

“There is no such thing as a courageous person, only acts of courage.”

If you pray once, it’s a nice heart-warming experience. If you pray every once in a while, other people will probably think you’re spiritual. But if you pray everyday, you become a person who prays. You are conscious of your surroundings, you are someone who cares about people around you, you are humble enough to ask for help. Prayer becomes a part of your identity.
There are no innately great dads. There are only dads that greet the sun every morning and sacrifice their own free time and well being to spend time with their kids to slowly but surely develop relationship.

And as I sat in the coffee shop drinking my decaf Americano, I got to thinking…

It’s hard work to pray everyday! Do my ideas have any idea how busy my schedule is? I just don’t have the time for it. I’ll make some other form of small change.

But maybe that’s why small change is so important. Because it gets right up in our face to challenge us, everyday.

If you made a couple big decisions in your life, like you moved to a brand new city. You might just be someone that other people think is a risk-taker, because other people will see you through the big stories in your life.

But if you take small risks everyday, risk losing control of your schedule to a discipline you might be trying to develop, or risk losing sleep for the sake of an important relationship, then, maybe, with time, those small decisions become ingrained in our habits, and become a part of our character.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by Enid Yu

Beyond Mountains, There Are Mountains

Probably the question I get asked most frequently these days is, “So, are you a student?” Only briefly resenting the fact that I look like I’m 16 and should probably still be in college, I quickly gather myself, repeat “serenity now, serenity now, serenity now…,” and reply calmly, “Yeah actually I’m working up at OHSU (Oregon Health and Science University) in a research lab. We study how your body manages iron.” Further than that, I never really know what to say. Maybe this story will paint a better picture...

It’s too uninteresting to explain in detail, but my job in a nutshell consists of growing up some liver cells, treating with certain conditions like high or low iron, then harvesting them to measure their response to such conditions. The final step involves developing a piece of film that reveals my results for a usual week-long experiment.

So about a month ago, I was going through a cold streak in lab. Cells I was trying to grow would die for no obvious reason. Simple experiments I handled without thinking twice as an undergrad turned into massive uphill battles. I kept getting flustered, which made me more nervous, and I messed up over and over. My confidence looked something like Ted from the cult classic sitcom, Scrubs. In other words, it was shot.

One of those depressing days, with the grace of God I had painstakingly reached the final step of developing a piece of film with my data on it. I waited in the darkroom with the red light on, allowing the chemiluminscent marker to burn its mark into the Kodak blue x-ray film. Reluctant but feeling confident, I stuck my piece of film into the developer. Waiting for the moment of truth. Was this the day my cold streak would finally break? Would I be a genius again? Or would my last six days be useless, again?

As I waited, the developer started making ungodly screeching sounds. My piece of film was stuck in the goddamn developer. I momentarily considered hiring a therapist.

I quickly collected myself. Realizing I had no idea what to do, I went over to one of our grad students and asked her to save me. We went and got one of the professors, Jack, who was experienced at fixing outdated lab machinery. He was the kind of guy who has a huge smile on his face and asks questions like, “So I’m sure you did everything absolutely right, but were you sure to make the obvious decision to put the film in vertically?”

Together, we struggled with it for a while, trying all the obvious solutions, replacing the rollers, tightening the screws, nothing worked. With time, we were able to put together a patchwork solution.

He stepped out, and I was left in the dark again, to test the developer. Somehow, it felt symbolic to be standing in the dark. Having no idea what was going on. Being lost.

Realizing I was taking myself too seriously, and that I was just developing some film, I stuck the film in the developer and stood there, quietly but audibly humming Maroon 5 to myself.

The film came out. The results didn’t look great, but the developer worked. I stepped out of the dark room and saw Jack, who looked engaged with one of his students. I waited a second to make eye contact with him, and threw up an awkward thumbs up along with a forced-looking smile, signaling success. He raised a fist and exclaimed, “We persevere,” and went right back to work...

Sometimes, what’s on that piece of blue film isn’t what you want. But maybe that’s not what counts. Maybe there will always be mountains beyond mountains. Maybe it’s about accepting those mountains as an inevitable part of a beautiful life. Maybe, it’s just about persevering.

Maybe, even when there’s no hoop, you just have to keep throwing that basketball up because you never know what can happen when you keep fighting.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

The End

A guest post from my friend from Kenyon College, Sean Edelman. The two of us, pictured handsomely, below.


Over the crest of the hill, the familiar flags, people, and noise come into view. After laboring for what seemed like an eternity, the runner could finally see the physical goal; the one he suffered through the summer heat and winter snow to reach. He had climbed mountains, crossed plains, and conquered his demons. Yet, with his goal finally appearing like the sun over the horizon, he can only feel emptiness and longing. Was this it? As he approached the finish, this particular thought echoed throughout his mind, bringing doubt to his soon-to-be achievement.

Over the last 6+ years of my life I’ve been a runner. What began as a placeholder for not making the high school soccer team became one of my primary identifiers. Back in high school I proudly displayed my identity by wearing t-shirts I had won or purchased at meets, I spent my afternoon sitting with my runner friends discussing other teams and their runners, and I would gladly spend my free time in my coach’s office hoping that some of his knowledge would pass down to me. Every fall I toiled through the long miles, steep hills, and unfortunate weather of cross-country season, counting down the days until the first winter track practice. I lived for that feeling of lacing up my spikes and tearing around the oval. I gave up parties, weekends, and countless hours to nothing but running. The competition kept me going each day. I loved racing and the palpable sense of accomplishment drove me to worker harder and harder. Never would I have thought that my attitude towards the sport could ever be changed.

The realization came around last February.

With only a couple hundred meters standing between him and the finish line, the runner’s thin muscular frame remained upright and focused, hiding the mental turmoil that dwelled underneath his skin. The single thought of doubt that troubled him wasn’t a new phenomenon. He had managed to suppress its growth in his brain by thinking that it was only a passing attitude. However, as the finish line got ever so closer, he could no longer ignore his own demons, and they began to overwhelm his thoughts.

It was a Friday night and with a meet the next morning, I was spending it sitting in my room watching a movie. A knock came on the door; it was a friend of mine coming to get my roommate to head out to the party scene. As the door shut behind them a question crossed my mind: Why was I depriving myself from the fun that I knew was out there? Was a track race worth really worth this?

I was appalled by the thoughts crossing my mind. Track was who I was. My once stable identity was now at conflict. The sacrifices, which I had once made without an afterthought, now had to be justified. I realized the personal achievement gained with racing had long left my body. Just like an injured runner’s tendons may hang by threads, my connection and love I had for the sport of track had withered away to small, decrepit strands.

Like a virus, this string of thoughts plagued me throughout the rest of the season. I found myself just going through the motions that I had once put all of my effort into. For the second straight year, I didn’t see my times drop. Races became something I felt forced to do. The glow of accomplishment no longer surged through my body. Emptiness replaced fulfillment. Change had come and I was reluctant to accept it.

A few weeks ago marked the first day of fall track for the runners who don’t participate in cross-country. As I stretched in the autumn air after a long distance run, I watched the fall trackies finish up their workout. Eagerness and excitement was flowing throughout the bunch; they were elated to be back doing what they love. Watching them brought back memories of the sensation one feels at the start of a season. It was a feeling I once longed for and the thought of it used to make my heart race. Sitting in the warm sun observing them, I realized I no longer pined for what they were currently experiencing. I finally recognized that I had moved on.

Serenity and peace came to my troubled mind. Acceptance finally spread its roots.

As the runner crosses the finish, the aches and pains that he had ignored begin to throb throughout his body. He wants nothing more than the soreness to stop but he knows that the suffering has just begun. As he starts to walk away, the feeling of emptiness disappears from his body. The race is over and although it didn’t end as he once anticipated, he is now filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment. It had been a good run. He had made it. The uncertainty of tomorrow no longer bothered him; it excited him. Although the pain in his body had become nearly unbearable, he cracked a smile.

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to post your thoughts here, email me! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

What is Social Justice? Again.

This past spring I organized an event at Kenyon College called Social Justice Week. The week ended with an event in which several campus activists answered the question, what is social justice?

I didn’t have an answer then, and I don’t have an answer now. However, I heard that a maturing painter has to paint and paint, and then every once in a while, take some white paint, and cover his whole canvas to start over. Each time he figures out the artist that he isn’t, he gets closer to the artist he is.

I see these next few years of my life as crucial, I feel like my vision is slowly revealing itself, stroke by stroke.

A few years ago I came across a book called Everything Must Change. The contents of the book were mediocre, or at least, I feel that way because I can never remember anything from books, but the title has stuck with me. I believe in innovation, and being a radical, and that everything must change.

Martin Luther King Jr. said,

“After you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved.”

I learned much through my work with social justice at Kenyon College. I did a lot of flag-waving and getting in people’s faces about poor people that needed our help. It was a lot of pointing out that people should care about something, without any real reason why. Kind of run of the mill social justice work.

This sort of guilt trip can work for the short-term. I was able to raise a ton of attention for Haiti and a lot of money to send down there. I learned that people will gladly pay to rid themselves of their guilt.

I know I’m stealing this idea from some book, but I can’t remember who I’m stealing it from. The problem with guilt is that when that bill is paid off, whether by a literal check or a couple nice gestures, people can clear their conscience and move on. I know this because after spending so much effort raising money for Haiti and being given a Humanitarian Award for my work, I couldn’t care less about the people of Haiti.

This protest method of achieving social justice has carried the tide of social justice to where it is today, and for that I praise it. However, I just don’t know that it is my answer. I see myself as the painter who finally built up the courage to pick up the white paintbrush.

With that white canvas, I want to find another way. A way from which I can’t just clear my conscience. A way that makes me care.

So what is my answer to, “What is social justice?”

I’ve heard this sort of lingo in activism culture, that the word “radical” and the word “radish” come from the same latin word meaning “root”. And so, a radical, like a radish, must always be concerned with its roots. To fight any issues of social justice, HIV epidemic in the Ukraine, gender inequality in the church, lack of strong education in predominantly non-white neighborhoods, I believe it always has to come back to the root causes of inequalities.

So what is the root of the problem, at the most basic microscaled level?

I’m not willing to think outside of myself. I’m not willing to sacrifice my own well-being for the community.

To change, like a radish, I want to operate from the underground. A subversive, much slower form of progress, but also hopefully, a real form of progress. I want to throw myself into a community, and learn its struggles, to really understand the human condition, and through that understanding figure out what I can do to help.

So, what do I envision as my painting of social justice? I guess I see it as trying my hardest to slowly let go of the luxuries in my life and making friends everywhere I go, but also being intentional about seeking out the right friendships.

I want to end with a Cesar Chavez quote that I love. It was taught to me by an activist I admire greatly, “It was never about the grapes or the lettuce, it was always about the people.” Any social justice movement always has to be rooted in the people, and I think right now I am trying to develop my roots.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by Wesley Oostvogels

Why hip-hop?

I just finished reading a brilliant guide to writing by hippy Christian Anne Lamott called bird by bird. The premise of the book is that writing is not about being published or finishing a screenplay. Instead it’s about opening your soul to reveal unspeakable truths.

This insight is precisely why I wanted to write. I wanted to be open with myself, admit my struggles, allow others to connect with my struggles where they might, and not worry so much about the judgment of the majority that won’t connect. Since making this realization my appreciation for art and artists has grown tenfold.

There are certain truths that cannot be revealed through speech. There is something inherently beautiful about the metaphor in a beautifully depicted novel, a perfect moment captured via photograph, or through a simple but catchy beat. Of all forms of art that catchy beat might be my favorite.

I love music for its availability to everyone. Movies, art, and books tend to be on the high culture side, but music is much more of an equalizer across all corners of society.

Especially through pop culture, music has the ability to crack into the mainstream. Whereas the average person might not want to listen to a lecture about poverty in the developing world or read an article about how injust the world is, it’s a whole different story to listen to a song that speaks to those same injustices. Music can be an amazing vehicle to get people thinking about truth.

One of my favorites is the Somali-Canadian rapper/poet K’naan. You’ve probably heard of him from his 2010 World Cup promotional anthem “Wavin’ Flag.” But one of my other favorites is “ABCs”, a song that highlights the violence that comes from the helplessness of poverty. He describes his own music as “urgent music with a message.”

Breaking through rap stereotypes, his music shows everything that is still relevant about modern hip-hop. Similar to other hip-hop greats like Nas’ "If I Ruled the World" and 2pac’s "Changes", K'naan writes about the state of the world, specifically the struggles he saw growing up in war-torn Somalia.

His music, a mixture of American hip-hop and Ethiopian jazz, is so catchy that his message is unavoidable. It’s really a blessing that his message is one of thinking outside the small compartment of ourselves. Such a relief that there are still mainstream artists out there trying to tell a truth.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

Small Change

Much like Ken, I graduated from a small liberal arts college about 5 months ago and now I'm living in a new city with a new job and a completely new life. Also like Ken, this year is dedicated to changing my life, or at least putting it on a path that will make me feel happy and fulfilled. This post, which I am very grateful to be writing, is about remembering that big change happens a little at a time.

Coming out of college I was thinking big, as that's pretty much what we are all taught to do. I was thinking about all the big changes I could make in my life to really shuffle things up and dig deep into my soul and figure out who I really am and what I really believe and what makes me feel flow. So I moved to Houston, Texas, pretty much out of the blue, because I knew that was a big change for a Massachusetts kid. I accepted a job here teaching middle school to underprivileged youth, because I thought that's where I would learn most about myself. I had no friends in the area, I had no long term plans, and I was blinded by this idea of 'Big Change'. Recently I signed up for the Austin Marathon, another one of my Big Change ideas. Although I ran XC with Ken in high school, he'll be the first to tell you that I wasn't a runner. I played Ultimate Frisbee in college, and the main reason I signed up for the Austin Marathon was because I was excited to provide some structure to my daily life and also because as far as I was concerned, this was the year of Big Changes.

What I failed to realize throughout all of this (or perhaps what I chose to ignore) is that it is often the smallest change that can have the most lasting impact on our character. It is also the smaller changes that are most difficult to make in our daily lives. At the risk of sounding cliche, a little change can make a big difference, and I lost site of that. When I recently sat down to reflect on my first 100 days away from home, I realized that for the most part I was the same person I had been during my senior year of college. Despite all of these Big Changes, the essential fabric of my being was 100% the same. I had been so caught up in all the Big Changes in my life that I forgot to take advantage of all the daily opportunities I have to make small changes. Those are the most difficult resolutions to keep, like remembering to call your parents at least once a week just because it makes them happy to hear from you, or being nice to a colleague or peer that is ostracized by others, or remembering to take the high road when you are feeling petty or bitter towards someone else. Those are the real opportunities for Big Change in your life that can change your character for the better.

Just two nights ago I faced a predicament with a girl that I like, and to keep a long story short, it was exactly like a situation I faced a year ago with a different girl. I handled the situation extremely poorly the first time. I was petty, selfish and blinded by emotions. This time around, unfortunately, I still handled it poorly. I was still petty, still selfish, but at least I was conscious of the fact that I was being unreasonable. For me, that is a small step, and some may wonder why I wasn't more mature. But, at least I'm moving in the right direction and perhaps next time I am faced with a similar situation I can handle it in the ideal way. For now, however, I have to be content with small change. I figure eventually, it will all add up.

Guest Writer: Amulya Iyer

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

New Writers

Since running the marathon and being "done with running" I've been trying to put my time into things other than exercise. One of those things has been writing, and it's been super frustrating! I feel like I'm struggling with serious writer's block.

Coincidentally, one of my best friends, Amulya Iyer, recently went to a workshop on blog writing and had been thinking about writing a blog. I asked him to write for my blog, and he agreed to write a post! I'm hoping this will provide a spark for my writing.

About three years ago, Amulya and I had an epic email chain, in which each successive email had to be longer than the last. The whole chain, consisting of random rants similar to this blog and spanning over 19 emails and 3 months, totaled nearly 70,000 words. That email chain was my greatest writing accomplishment, and I hope to one day be able to say that about this blog. I think this is a step in the right direction.

If anybody else is interested in writing for this blog, please email me! You can write about whatever you want.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

Portland Marathon 2010

At seven in the morning, it was pouring rain, frigidly cold, and pitch dark. I was just counting down the seconds until the race would start. I kept trying to cheer myself up, but between the rain, cold, darkness, and EVERYONE complaining about it, it was tough to keep a bright attitude. I think we were all thinking the same thing, “I should’ve ran the San Diego Marathon.” This race was going to suck.

Then just as the gun went off, I overheard the woman next to me exclaim, “DOES THE RAIN MAKE MY TITS LOOK BIG?” After that, I knew this was going to be a good day.

To preface this post, I was training semi-seriously in the beginning of the summer, doing consistent long runs up to 15 miles. But the past couple months I’ve probably been running less than 20 miles a week. If I was even going to finish this marathon, it was pretty much going to take a miracle.

Oh, and it turns out, running a big marathon, I’m guessing any with 10,000+ people, is really a big celebration for all the running you did to get there.

Coming from the Boston Marathon, I wasn’t expecting too much support, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much of the city came out to support the runners. There are bands and water stands filled with enthusiastic kids along the way. Some runners even dressed for the occasion, including a green tutu wearing fairy, complete with wings and wand. I’m assuming he lost a bet or something, but then again, Portland’s pretty weird, so you never know.

Miles 3 – 16 pretty much went on like this, I was enjoying the celebration, smiling and all. I felt smooth and comfortable, but I knew somewhere around 2 to 3 hours I was going to hit a wall.

Around mile 16, some bulky looking tough guy rolled up next to me clearly running faster than everyone else. I was still feeling pretty good at this point, so I lined up behind him and we must have split out some sub 7 minute miles. Sidenote: I feel like I was just doing long runs at that pace, but not running competitively makes you appreciate how fast that really feels.

He kept stopping for water at every station, so I used those seconds to catch my breath until we were chugging along again. I kept at it though, and eventually after one water station around mile 19 I dropped him, and I was feeling strong.

It was right around this point I knew the wall was inevitable, so I started slowing down at more water stations to grab the rip-off Gatorade and gummy bears. With all the sugar, my energy level was staying high, but right around mile 22 my quads slowly tightened more and more.

I figured, if I can’t stride normally I’ll just increase my stride rate! This sounded like a great idea at the time, but the awkwardness of my stride was probably somewhere between a goose and Jackson Cabo.

This worked for a while, until the 23 mile mark, right at the beginning of a downhill, when my left hammy cramped up with the kind of intensity that shoots you out of bed. Probably as a result of overcompensating for my tight quads. My running intuition told me this would pass, so I just massaged it out and walked around in circles for a few minutes before starting up again.

From there, I kept tightening up more, and slowed, and slowed, as all the people I had overconfidently blown past from miles 16 – 22 slowly came whipping past me on the decline back to downtown.

As everyone raced past me, I was trying to figure out if this sucked, if I felt helpless, or regretted my lack or training, but then I realized, I was at mile 24! There was really no way I wasn’t going to finish. It felt surreal, both easier and harder than I imagined.

Before I knew it, I could see the finish line. I kind of had this image of kicking past a ton of old guys here, but at this point my top speed was probably around 10 or 11 minute mile pace, so I was the one getting kicked on. I crossed the line at 3:35. And stopped. It felt like most milestone accomplishments do, great but not quite on par with what you imagined.

So am I done running forever? Well no, I signed up for a race next August called Hood to Coast, a 12 man relay race from the mountains (Mt. Hood) on the east side of Oregon, to the coast on the west side. But I am done letting running limit my freedom.

So, in the famous words of Caleb Roupp:
Friend: Ken, are you cooling down? (Ken plugs in headphones and prepares to nap)
Ken: Welp, I’m not running again till August.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by kk+

Thank you, running

I’ve been running for longer than I can remember doing anything else in my life.

I ran cross country and track in college and high school. I was elected captain, not because I was good but because I cared. I spent one summer running 1000 miles, putting in week after week of 90 miles, just to prove to myself that if I was going to be a nothing at running, it wasn’t because I didn’t try. At one time in my life, I owned more track spikes than my girlfriend owned shoes. I once ran a hundred mile week, finishing with a Turkish soccer player who could barely speak English and had never ran more than four miles, but as we finished the seven mile run he was sprinting and yelling NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER GIVE UP.

But over the past few months, I’ve come to see running almost as a relic of the person I used to be.

After that 1000 mile summer, I had the best running season of my life. I ran over 90 seconds faster for 8k than I ever had, or would. That season I was a far greater athlete than I ever imagined I could be.

At the end of that season, I ended up being the alternate on our regionals squad. The alternate basically travels with the team and hangs out with them as everyone else broods over the race before them. It feels helpless because there’s nothing you can do to help the team, except through supporting your teammates.

It was at this point that I realized, this is the final lesson running has to teach me. I am not a star, nor even a player. My role in my life is to be the ultimate cheerleader. My life was supposed to be sacrificed for the people around me.

After that season, my running was never the same. I lost the heart for it, I still fought tooth and nail, but my soul didn’t bleed for it like it used to. Mostly I ran to support my friends and teammates, I wanted to see them succeed more than they could’ve ever imagined. And more, I wanted to support their lives and cherish their friendships.

In the cult classic running novel Once A Runner the protagonist refers to demons that haunt his running. I remember feeling these demons in my own life .

The demons would come on in those few minutes just before a race, when you’re waiting on the track, having stripped off your warmups, spikes on, the race before you coming to and end, and feeling like you have to pee for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. I remember telling my friend, if I ever stopped feeling like this, I would stop running.

I think, maybe, the demons in your life are where your heart is. And wherever your heart is, that’s where your life should be.

Well, the demons in my life don’t haunt my running anymore.

Tomorrow, I’m running the Portland Marathon. And I see it as my farewell to running. It’s the last running feat I want to check off before being prepared to leave it, maybe forever.

For those of you still running, I really really wish you the best of luck. It is truly amazing what it can teach you, and I hope you enjoy the ride.

And of course, to my old teammates, those of you from Kenyon and those from Needham, I hope to enjoy a leisurely run with you again some day. Or maybe just a leisurely beer. But the days of heart-breaking training, 12 k threshold workouts, 5 x 1200, conference races, those days are far gone. And man, it feels good.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by boliston

Building community with dinner and the Gospel of John

So this Tuesday I’m going to start hosting a weekly small group at my apartment to study the Gospel of John with some of my friends from church. I’m not exactly sure what I want to do with the group, but I know I want the main theme to be having a safe and open space to build up relationships. So I thought I’d post the flier I handed out to advertise the group:

In the beginning, there was God. And his friends. And they talked about God. And their lives.

That’s what I want this home community to look like, making friends and talking about God.

I have only been a Christian for about two years. I don’t know the difference between a Presbyterian and a Church of Christ-er, what the rules about baptisms are, or what exactly traditional church doctrine says about women. And I don’t really care that much about those things. I do, however, care about what God is doing in your life.

I love the Gospel of John because he gets in your face, tells you about God, and asks you what you’re going to do about it. That’s what I loved when I started learning about Christianity, it’s all about living on purpose, for God. If you are interested in this group, be prepared to think about these questions:

What is God calling you to do with your life?
How can you pay attention to God?
Where is love in your life?

"I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange."

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by hapal

The American Dream

Recently, I read a Time article about the novelist Jonathan Franzen. It was about his new novel Freedom and the decline of the American novel. Franzen’s novel is about a typical American upper middle class family living in the suburbs, with unfulfilled desires and superficial happiness. It’s a criticism of modern America’s obsession with anything that takes away “freedom.”

We’ve become so obsessed with simply the idea of freedom that we’ve forgotten that freedom is simply a means to an end, assuming the end is to have a meaningful life.

Personally, I love freedom. It’s easily what I love most about graduating from college and leaving the college bubble. Especially living in a city, there’s options and choices everywhere you look. New hobbies to take up, graduate programs to apply to, friends to meet, food carts to sample. It’s great having such a commitment-free life. I can do whatever I want, whenever.

I know, though, that living in this sort of freedom-driven world can only be satisfying for so long. The unfortunate thing about a commitment-free life is that there’s no investment, and so the returns can be pretty shallow.

Take for instance, my marathon training. I’ve been taking my training really relaxed, running when I want, trying not to put too much pressure on it. Running in college used to be so stressful for me, so this change is great because I never get too stressed from it. That’s the best thing about freedom, you can always walk away whenever something gets too stressful.

The flip side? You always have an out from every “commitment”. You never work through struggles, and it’s kind of the whole “no pain, no gain,” idea.

In fact, Franzen explains in his interview:

“One of the ways of surrendering freedom is to actually have convictions.”

When you believe something, it’s scary, because you have to make decisions not just based on our animal-like immediate desires to make decisions, but you have to think about what is best for your vision.

I like for my life to be a sort of y = 3 sin x graph rather than a y = 1, assuming the y-axis represent happiness. (My friend Mooks and I once planned to write a book about math functions and relationships). Having the freedom to try new and different things, you can maintain a certain level of happiness, never getting too down on yourself. Whereas sticking by your beliefs can have big payoffs and also big pains.

Taking advantage of our freedom and eating that extra piece of bacon, buying that new pair of shoes, or whatever other general satisfaction of a superficial desire you can think of, never seems to be as satisfying as it seems. But to be able to say, at the end of the day, that when you were challenged, you held firm to your convictions, I think that brings about a real feel of satisfaction.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by *L*u*z*A*

What do you do when you do nothing?

My friend at work and I were chatting on Friday about how it had felt like a long week. We talked about our plans for the weekend, and wanting to just do nothing. This prompted my friend to ask me what I did when I did nothing. It was obvious to ask that question but at the same time, I was caught a little bit off guard and didn’t really know what to say.

Those sorts of simple questions always seem to get at your most fundamental character. Who you are at your core, maybe.

So, let me define, “doing nothing.” Well, first let me define, “doing something.”

“Doing something” is your life calling. Maybe it’s empowering youth who never got the opportunities you did, maybe it’s communicating worldly truths through poetry, maybe it’s making the world aware of vicious racism. Whatever “doing something” is for you, it’s active, it takes effort, and when done right, it’s a real, real burden. Whatever you’re doing is definitely worthwhile, but at the same time it’s important to set personal boundaries so you can stay fresh for whenever you’re “doing something.”

A group of old ladies that run a missionary organization in India brings in fiery youth to help them on various service projects. Everyday at 3:00 PM sharp the ladies would drop whatever they were doing to drink tea and have biscuits. The youth would sometimes get upset, asking why they didn’t work through the daylight or save the precious money for the people of India rather than biscuits. The ladies would reply:

“When you leave, we will still be here, and we cannot make it tomorrow if we do not drink tea.”

I think that’s what “doing nothing” is about, it’s what you do to unwind from “doing something” and make sure you can stick it for the long haul. It’s something you enjoy, but something best enjoyed in small doses. It probably wouldn’t be fun to sit around and drink tea for ten hours a day. It’s something where you don’t feel like you’re working towards any sort of goal, but at the same time something that makes you feel completely fulfilled by just doing it.

I can imagine this sort of unwinding taking many different forms for different people. For my friend at work it’s just wearing her pajamas, lazing around on her couch with a good cup of tea and a novel. I’m not exactly sure what this is for me, but it’s some combination of being by myself, listening to good music, eating unhealthy snacks, drinking hot tea, reading something completely unrelated to my goals, and watching a heart-warming romantic comedy. Regardless of what it means to “do nothing,” it definitely seems like an important component of a well-balanced life.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by ryantron

Happiness and Satisfaction

I was recently talking about the difference between happiness and satisfaction.

In the movie “500 Days of Summer” the main character freaks out about how the girl he’s been seeing can’t commit to him, and the girl replies that she can’t promise that she’ll wake up every morning and feel the same way for him. That’s how I see happiness, as a moment-to-moment mood thing. Sometimes it has highs, but other times it fades away for no real reason, and it probably has mostly to do with rapidly turning over brain chemicals.

On the other hand, being able to take a step out of your environment, and looking at your life apart from the hectic mess is a good way to assess satisfaction. Life is going to be busy, sometimes crazy, and other times a hassle. But if you can say despite the pain, you still love your life, that’s something like real satisfaction.

To me, satisfaction is the more important of the two, especially since you have so much more control over it. Essentially, I think about it as putting yourself on a road you like and taking the detours and potholes as they come.

But there are definitely days when I randomly feel down for no real reason. Well, maybe there is a reason for it, but I think it’s probably just something superficial like not getting enough sleep, having worked out too hard, caffeine crash, etc.

So even though I think satisfaction is more important, dealing with your day to day happiness is important too. I used to not be a fan of these bandaid type solutions, but sometimes you just need short-term solutions to survive and help gap you to the long-term solutions. And knowing that it’s just a superficial thing makes it a lot easier to deal with, because you can fight back with superficial solutions.

Here are some that actually improve my mood:

1- Force myself to go to sleep early.
2- Get moving and go for a light workout.
3- Change something in my environment, like adding flowers to my apartment or slightly moving the angle of my couch.
4- Shower.

It’s nice to have little tricks like these to help take care of myself, and keep myself sane enough to focus on developing satisfaction with my life.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

Good things come in 3's

The last few weeks, I feel like I’ve been crazy busy. Fortunately, all with awesome things, but busy nonetheless. When I was feeling like I was pushing on burnout, I started worrying, and fortunately again, three ideas popped into my life.

The first was this inspiring poem written by one of my friends:

Sweat burns my eyes
It is hot and I am tired
For days now (or has it been years?)
I have been climbing
And climbing
And climbing
There is no end in sight
Yet I must go on
I must keep climbing
For if I stop
I might become rooted

I loved this poem for several reasons. The simplicity, for one, and also the idea that sometimes you just have to lose track of time and not worry about how long you’ve been climbing. I definitely have a tendency to think, oh I haven’t taken a break in x days, I must need a break!

But what I loved most about the poem was the last word, “rooted.” I love the shortness of poetry, it allows every word to hold SO much meaning, and that one word, rooted, just really connected with me. I always want to be making progress, improving myself, and avoid getting stale or rooted. One of my biggest fears is that feeling of being stuck. Time is precious!

The second was a Filipino phrase my friend told me about, “isang bagsak” which translates to something like “one down.” A quick google search showed that it has multiple vaguely similar interpretations, but I think the basic idea is to exclaim this phrase, along with a clap, at the end of a group meeting to establish a sense of solidarity and progress.

On my run this morning, my running partner was mentioning that he’s starting to get in shape, and we talked about how awesome it is to feel your fitness improving. It’s always an incredible feeling to be making progress, whether in physical fitness or as a group fighting for a beautiful cause, no matter how seemingly small the progress may be.

And this reminded me, I am making progress! I’m getting better at working with my cells, making good friends, having amazing volunteer jobs, and just generally spending my days doing things I want to be doing.

And of course, good things always come in three's, so I was expecting a third inspirational sign, and it turned out to be a Buddhist saying.

“Act always as if the future of the universe depended on what you did, while laughing at yourself for thinking that whatever you do makes any difference.”

So the first two things, my friend’s poem and “isang bagsak,” helped me realize that I don’t want to get rooted and that I am making real progress, even if it seems more penguin-paced than hummingbird-paced. The third, the Buddhist saying, just made me remember to laugh at myself for taking myself so seriously and getting so stressed out, and enjoy the fact that I’m actually making progress in the direction I want to go in.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by Tambako the Jaguar

Attitude reflects leadership

So I’m going to write a two-part post, the first part being a general rant on leadership, and the second part being what makes a good leader.

I had been thinking about leadership the last couple days, but I was inspired when I saw a quote on a church advertisement:

“It is a struggle to get children to listen to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.”

I’ll come back to that quote later.

Leadership seems like a very elusive issue, every environment I’ve ever gone through including groups I was in charge of, like old jobs, sports teams, service organizations, always, always seems to lack good leadership. This is probably because being a good leader is 99% non-glamorous work that nobody will notice.

And of course, a situation with good leaders is different from a situation with big ego’s, which I’ve definitely contributed to. When you just want to see your vision carried out rather than accomplish the actual mission of the group, it’s easy just to mash together some big ego’s.

The times I have been in a situation with good leadership it just felt like the group just had a better sense of direction and actually accomplished something, rather than functioning aimlessly.

I’ve read so much about how good leaders assert themselves by being useful or likeable or needed rather than because they simply want to lead. I always resented that I wanted to be a good leader, since it felt powerhungry and selfish. But I'm starting to realize that's just a part of who I am, and as I learn more about embracing every part of myself, I'm accepting that I will always want to be in a leadership role.

So, before I get back to the quote I wanted to mention a scene from the epic movie “Remember the Titans”. The movie takes place during the civil rights movement, and describes a black school being integrated into a white school, and the challenges involved in bringing together a football team of black and white players. There’s a scene where the white captain is furious at the black captain for not being a team player. The black captain, bringing up a situation in which the white captain didn’t stand up for the black players replies, “Attitude reflects leadership, captain.”

Ever since I heard that quote, it’s really stuck with me. That first quote from the church reflects that same idea. Whatever atmosphere the leaders of any team create, is the same attitude that is followed by the rest of the crowd.

I saw this quote in action during my time with Kenyon Cross Country. In my sophomore and junior years , we had an incredibly serious, success-driven team that had some of the fastest runners I ever had the chance to train with.

Then, my senior year when I was a captain, we had a much more laid back atmosphere focused on bringing people together through running, rather than having a group of people that are focused on running.

Very different feels, and I think the difference had a lot to do with the leadership that was driving those teams. The first two years had incredibly talented and hard-working captains that set school records and ran at nationals, whereas my senior year I was burnt out on running and wanted to focus on cultivating friendships.

Even though I knew these quotes and I was consciously trying to change the atmosphere of the team, I was still pleasantly surprised at what a drastic change the team feel went through. That’s what a good leader can do, I guess.

from ken

Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com

photo by dynamosquito