Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life (A Continuation)

I

I: You might wonder, who is this I person I always hear about? And why does it matter if I thinks and, therefore, I exists? We as humans (at least the introverts among us) spend a lot of time figuring out exactly who I is and exactly what matters to I. If you ask me who I am, you'll get a different response depending on the time and place and my mood. I am flexible, I am fluid, I am liquid. I change. I wonder if the person I am now would get along with the person I was in the past and the person I will be in the future. I hope I can hang on to the things that matter. I am here. I exist. I matter. I am (see Identity, INFJ).

Icarus: Of all the characters in the great literary classics, Holden Caulfield takes second  among my favorite only to the boy who flew. Icarus and his father Daedalus were stranded on an island, prisoners of King Minos's paranoia. Daedalus, thinking he was clever, built two pairs of wings, one for himself and one for his son. Daedalus warned his son of the danger of flying too high or too low before equipping them both with the wings. Icarus, absorbed by the euphoria of flying, soared toward the firmament. The heat from the son melted the wax which held together his wings, and he plummeted to the ocean in a flurry of feathers. I'm obsessed with the story--not only with the flight, but also with the fall. I think there was something glorious in that descent. The story reminds me that I am human, and that I shouldn't try to fly--much less to fly too high. But when I get distracted by the events in my life, I tend to fly high and fall hard.

Ice Cream: Ice cream has therapeutic properties. I remember spending many a Saturday night in college with my best friend Rilee, commiserating over our lousy love lives over a pint of strawberry ice cream and an episode of Trading Spaces. I would even go so far as to say that ice cream once saved my life. 

Identity: The longer I live, the more I try to figure out my identity. Yes, I'm Jesse William Birnstihl. But who am I?

Idiosyncratic Routine: Chasing Amy was my favorite movie for several years back when I was in college. The name of the comic book that Amy drew in the movie has always lingered in my mind. I wish it was a real series. I would actually read it.

If: If is one of my favorite words. I like the conditional that it implies. If you do this, you will get that. If only everything could be predicted with an if-then pattern, life would be much easier.

Imagination: When I was young, I had a vivid imagination. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night because I would tell elaborate stories in my mind. Most of the time, these stories would involve me being the fifth Ninja Turtle or the sixth Planeteer. As I got older, my imagination shrank like a cheap cotton t-shirt. I can still engineer a story, but it never has the richness or the depth that those nighttime imaginings once had.

Immortality: I don't think I would want to live forever. But ask me again when I'm older.

Inca: I was one of the counselors in the Inca cabin for three summers at Camp Mitton, a camp for kids in crisis situations. It was always the youngest boys cabin. My co-counselor and I would typically have eight boys between the ages of 6 and 8. We would begin every morning reciting the Inca Warrior's Mantra: We are brave. We are strong of heart. We are kind to others. We share what we have. We trust in our fellow warriors. We carry friendship like a strong shield. We listen to our elders. We are always learning and growing. Above all, we show respect at all times. This is the mark of the warrior. We are proud to be known as INCA! We also conducted daily warrior training, in which our charges would learn cooperation, patience, and problem-solving through imaginary quests. At the end of the session, we would hold a warrior's initiation ceremony; each warrior would be marked with ashes from an ancestral fire and would receive a warrior's name, such as Mighty Bear or Singing Bird. It was a mark of pride for each of these young boys, a rite of passage. They--and I--will always be Inca Warriors.

Independence Day: Fourth of July was always a fun holiday when I was a kid. I'm not especially patriotic, but I always enjoyed being in the parade and the contests at the park. My mom and dad always liked having their grandchildren home for this holiday, and so my siblings and I all came home for Independence Day in 2011. It's the last time we were all together while my dad was still alive. We all had so much fun that we agreed to meet again at the same time the next year, but instead the next time we all got together was for my dad's funeral the following June. I don't remember what I did for Independence Day that summer; most of the six months following my dad's death is a bit of a blur. I don't think it will ever be quite the same.

Indian Food: Indian food is one of my greatest delights in life. The heat of curry, the mildness of homemade cheese curds, the earthiness of tandoori. It is balanced and beautiful, a symphony for the tastebuds. 

Insight: My blue Honda Insight is the first car I have purchased for myself. I take a lot of pride in driving a hybrid; I feel I am being both economical and environmentally conscious. I wish hybrids would go down in price so more people would buy them; most people prefer a more powerful car, or one that is roomier, or one that is more prestigious. I feel that hybrid owners are kind of a secret community. Only once have I ever seen another blue Insight. It was around Christmas, at Northlake Mall. As I was leaving the mall, so was a young family in a blue Honda Insight. They honked and waved excitedly. I remember this as one of my happiest moments behind the wheel.

Insults: "Write injuries in dust, benefits in marble." Benjamin Franklin. Easier said than done, Ben. I hold grudges for a long time.

Internet: The Internet was just becoming prolific when I was in high school. I remember getting my first e-mail account and building my first website using HTML. 

INFJ: The first time I took a Myers-Briggs Personality Type Assessment, I was in ninth grade. It was part of our civics class. I thought it was fascinating. I answered a bunch of yes/no questions, and they told me which of 16 basic "types" of people I am. My results remained with me: INFJ. Introverted, intuitive, feeling, and judging. The description fit me well. But over time, when I took the assessment again in books and online, I shifted to ENFJ, then to ENFP. Out of curiosity, I just took an online assessment to see who I am today. I'm back to INFJ.

iPod: I am a proud owner of the first generation iPod. Since then, I have become an Apple fanboy. I am attached to my iPhone and can scarcely remember life before these technologies. I wish I had become addicted to Droid, because Apple and Google don't play nice together, but I have invested way too much in Apple to switch now.

Iron Range: I grew up on the Iron Range, in northern Minnesota. The area was originally settled primarily for taconite mining; hence, the name. The Iron Range is cold and unexciting. The towns are small. The people are kind (mostly). The businesses are moderate. Life is generally acceptable, with a touch of sadness. The only part of me that wants to go back is the part that misses my mom. She works for a small, local history museum and is their only paid employee. She will be happy to give you a tour, if you ever make it up that way. It's not somewhere I love, but it's a big part of who I am. I think the Iron Range taught me important, traditional American values: hard work, discipline, and loyalty.

My Many Identities (A Continuation)

I am.
I am more than I was then.
I will be more then than I am now.

Zebo the Clown. I stumbled into clowning as a member of the 4-H'ers 4-Ever; for some bizarre reason, the leadership in my club decided all members should participate. I'm not sure what I thought of it at first because being a clown is something buried so far in my memory that I had nearly forgotten it--until my mom sent me the clown journal I kept in 1991-92. Here is an excerpt:
"Would you like a balloon animal little girl? How about a squirrel?" Being a clown, Zebo likes to make balloon animals and [to] entertain young children. Sometimes Zebo is happy, sometimes he is sad. Let's see what Zebo is up to today.
As a clown, I was very social and enjoyed performing in groups and telling jokes to make people laugh. I imagine I dreamed of becoming a famous clown one day, and of learning to juggle. I feared the "dead crowd," filled with people who wouldn't laugh or who would mock my buffoonery. Clowning taught me not to take myself too seriously, even though it took me years and years to remember that lesson.

The NPR Addict. Morning Edition. All Things Considered. Talk of the Nation. Fresh Air. I could listed to National Public Radio all day long. It's funny how one's tastes change; only three years ago, I would have changed the channel instantly. Now I can't get enough. I guess it all started last year when I started teaching Creative Writing; I listened to a couple archived recordings about nonfiction books to use as writing prompts for the creative nonfiction unit. Then, I started listening to current broadcasts, hoping to find similar inspiration. It turned out I got hooked. I always listen in hopes of hearing something interesting or important. It keeps me connected to the world. Sometimes I dream about being on the air--I've been told I have a "radio voice." So someday, if I ever have the courage to explore other career opportunities, I might just look into broadcast journalism. After all, I'm a bit of a news junkie.

The Gamer. I've been playing since I was six years old, back when high-tech was eight-bit. I got the Nintendo Entertainment System was all the rage, age eight. It was Christmas Eve, 1989, a few days before my sister Laura's wedding. This was the only year we got huge gifts. Laura got a microwave, Jade got an exercise bike, and Damian and I each got an NES. (I always felt like I got the good end of the deal.) It came with Super Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt. My collection of games expanded exponentially, and I became more and more obsessed with the game. I remember receiving Dragon Warrior as a reward for subscribing to Nintendo Power magazine, and not long after I picked up Final Fantasy. These games became long-time favorites, establishing my fascination with "any games with swords and dragons." Gaming is a fine form of escapism; it does for me what reading once did. It allows me to step outside of my own existence and to take on the role of a character whose life is vastly more interesting (and dangerous) than my own. As a gamer, I dream of racking up achievements to get the highest gamer score among my friends, and, as in real life, I dread when the screen goes black and reads "Game Over."

Kel Alexis. Since I was young, I dreamed about being a published author. I was a reader at an early age, and writing naturally followed. I wrote books called The Birnstihl Bunnies, largely modeled after The Berenstain Bears. An enterprising lad, I sold copies of my books to my mother for twenty-five cents. It was a rather profitable endeavor. But I wanted a wider audience. Someday, I told myself, people around the world would know my name; they would want to read my words, the way I read Shanarra and Ravenloft. I tried writing an epic fantasy novel under the pen name Kel Alexis, but after eight chapters or so, I guess I lost interest. I made an attempt at a novel again a few years ago, during National Novel Writing Month. Along with four friends, I embarked on a quest to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days. I hated what I wrote and gave up after 7,000 words. But I will try again this year. You will be able to read my zombie novel once it's published--but I'm not sure yet whether I'll use a pseudonym. I'm not afraid; I know with shrewd planning, I will succeed this time.

The Slob. I'm neither neat nor organized by nature. Indeed, I'm rather messy. I like organized chaos. When things are too neat, it makes me nervous. I like mess, so long as it's my mess. I wish people would leave me alone about it. I have my own system for things; most of the time, I know exactly where everything is. I'll clean up when I have time. That'll be sometime after I get done gaming.

The Puzzle Solver. I have a fascination with cryptograms, codes, and conundrums. I love utilizing logic to untangle problems. I've worked all kinds of puzzles since I was young. I got it from my mom--she would do crosswords, jumbles, even logic puzzles. It was kind of a family thing. I take pride in solving the harder puzzles, and I dream of being the best at it. I dread the frustration of realizing I've made a mistake, especially if I've already invested a lot of time in a particular puzzle. I'd love one day to be a freelance puzzle writer for Dell or Penny Press--or maybe even for the SAT!

The Younger Brother. I always felt like I was in the shadow of my older brother, Damian. And in some ways I was. "Oh, you're a Birnstihl? Are you Damian's little brother?" My brother was athletic, musical, and intellectual. Being the youngest had other drawbacks, too. Most of my toys and clothes were hand-me-downs, at least until I got older and began demanding my own things. I resented my brother for a long time, and even my parents. I felt like he was the favorite and I was just... well, I felt like I wasn't loved as much. And even though it probably wasn't true, that was my fear, and that was my perception. I dreamed of being the favorite, of being the Birnstihl child everyone remembered. Oddly enough, I never felt this way toward my sisters. Maybe it was because we were both male, or maybe it was because he was the oldest, but I always grappled with self-doubt when it came to my brother. It's better now that I'm an adult--I've let go of a lot of my insecurities, but from time to time, they come creeping in again.

I will continue to grow and change.
I will be. I will matter.
I am.