Yeah... no kidding...
I find myself frequently disappointed in people. Many people. A lot of the time.
And it's not because I hate people, no far from it. It's because they seem to hate me.
The common denominator in all your failed relationships, despite any protest to the contrary, is you. You can factor in all kinds of defensive little explanations, little things the other person did that drove you away, or at the very least drove the two of you apart, even cop to some small, insignificant piece of evidence that would--MAYBE--explain one failure or two, but when it comes down to it, the only thing that every relationship you have has in common... is you.
I can't help but feel at times like I seem to be the one pouring the most into many of my friendships--driving time/monetary expense, effort at making a get-together happen, blah blah blah. I know that, a lot of the time, it's mere convenience for my friends that I be the one to visit them rather than them visit me, and since they're my friends I'm happy to oblige, but I do often feel like, were the tables turned, anyone that I would want to put in the time/effort to make a visit to me happen wouldn't bother. For whatever reason, I can't be entirely sure. "You never know just how you look through other people's eyes."
But I do often wonder if it's because of me. Am I the one that has to make the effort because, on the other side of things, I'm the undesirable one, and whomever I would be visiting is simply humoring me when I visit them? Am I not worth whatever small effort would have to be put in to, say, make a cup of coffee happen, or a nice stroll around a park, or even something more formal than that? Is the problem with me, rather than with everyone else? The common denominator in all your failed relationships is you, after all...
Perhaps my expectations are too high. I've ranted and raved about people placing expectations on me that I don't feel are warranted or deserved, thus I know how it feels to have someone else put an expectation on you, so am I just expecting too much of my friends? Or, perhaps I should term it, these acquaintances that moonlight as friends, or are just friends in name only?
Meanwhile, days turn into weeks and time becomes infinitely more precious as it slips away. I have one less day than I did yesterday. It's 24 hours that I'll never get back, ever. How much of it was wasted on trying to acquaint with people who weren't worth my time to begin with? How much of it was saved by them not acquainting themselves with me? I can't tell you or anyone how long I have left, and it could be that I'm wasting my precious few hours left on Earth trying to force something to happen that won't.
And do I really want to hear the truth? Do I want to face the harsh reality that, yes, I am hardly worth the time of my friends because of X-Y-Z and they're better off ignoring every advance that I make toward them?
Am I just being paranoid?
Do I need new friends?
Will I ever have any?
Can you hear me?
...Is there anybody alive out there?...
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Questions from Heaven
We have this image in Christianity of lining up before God, asking Him all the questions that would come to our mind during this life, anything we want to know. For some reason today it occurred to me that the scene might be different, that we might be questioned by God for some of the ridiculous things we've done down here.
Questions from Heaven:
Why would you read My Word as a science book when it is nothing of the sort, and does not even present itself as such? Furthermore, why would you seek to question and damn the work of my servants? Damnation is not your job.
Exactly what was your proof that those 19 people in Salem were witches, anyway?
Didn't I command you to care for the alien at your gates? Or did you miss that part?
Why obsess so much about facts about My Son instead of just doing what he told you, as well as continuing his good work here?
Converting people to Me is a first step, not the whole point. I commanded you to make Disciples, not Converts. When did you decide it was about a body count, rather than about guidance?
I didn't send My Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save it. So why did you spend so much time being judgmental?
Why did you spend so much time in the Psalms, but very little in the Proverbs?
What was all that garbage about the end of the world, anyway? I said My World was Very Good. Why did you spend so little time and effort actually caring for it?
Why were you all so rude to my Chosen People, insulting their faith, misinterpreting their words, twisting their scriptures in your translations, making things fit together that weren't in the text originally?
Why did you think it was good enough to just wait for the Kingdom? Why didn't you feel it was necessary to act?
My Son sacrificed himself to save others. What gave you the right to act so selfishly?
I made it clear that you cannot serve both Me and Mammon. Why did you let it become all about they money you made?
Why did you ignore the second half of the book of Jonah? It's in there for a reason.
What was the reason behind thinking so highly of Job, while fervently denouncing anyone else who had the nerve to question Me? I seem to remember blessing Job, with his doubt and the heinous things he said about me.
Why did you decide to move Daniel from the Writings section to the Prophets section? Kinda missed the point of that book when you did that.
Didn't ANY of you understand Revelation? Your interpretations of it got pretty weird after a while... take it in context, for My sake!
Why did you always shoot someone for choosing to do My Good Work in that country you called America? I'm pretty sure I sent Abe, Jack, Bobby and King for a reason.
Why did you claim to understand Me so well when I'm obviously having trouble understanding what you're all up to?
What part of "turn the other cheek" didn't you understand?
What part of "love your neighbor as yourself" didn't you understand?
What part of "sell all you have and give your money to the poor" didn't you understand?
What part of "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven" didn't you understand?
What part of "Blessed are the Poor in Spirit...
"Blessed are Those who Mourn...
"Blessed are the Meek...
"Blessed are Those who Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness...
"Blessed are the Merciful...
"Blessed are the Pure in Heart...
"Blessed are the Peacemakers...
"Blessed are Those who are Persecuted because of Righteousness...
...didn't you understand?
Questions from Heaven:
Why would you read My Word as a science book when it is nothing of the sort, and does not even present itself as such? Furthermore, why would you seek to question and damn the work of my servants? Damnation is not your job.
Exactly what was your proof that those 19 people in Salem were witches, anyway?
Didn't I command you to care for the alien at your gates? Or did you miss that part?
Why obsess so much about facts about My Son instead of just doing what he told you, as well as continuing his good work here?
Converting people to Me is a first step, not the whole point. I commanded you to make Disciples, not Converts. When did you decide it was about a body count, rather than about guidance?
I didn't send My Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save it. So why did you spend so much time being judgmental?
Why did you spend so much time in the Psalms, but very little in the Proverbs?
What was all that garbage about the end of the world, anyway? I said My World was Very Good. Why did you spend so little time and effort actually caring for it?
Why were you all so rude to my Chosen People, insulting their faith, misinterpreting their words, twisting their scriptures in your translations, making things fit together that weren't in the text originally?
Why did you think it was good enough to just wait for the Kingdom? Why didn't you feel it was necessary to act?
My Son sacrificed himself to save others. What gave you the right to act so selfishly?
I made it clear that you cannot serve both Me and Mammon. Why did you let it become all about they money you made?
Why did you ignore the second half of the book of Jonah? It's in there for a reason.
What was the reason behind thinking so highly of Job, while fervently denouncing anyone else who had the nerve to question Me? I seem to remember blessing Job, with his doubt and the heinous things he said about me.
Why did you decide to move Daniel from the Writings section to the Prophets section? Kinda missed the point of that book when you did that.
Didn't ANY of you understand Revelation? Your interpretations of it got pretty weird after a while... take it in context, for My sake!
Why did you always shoot someone for choosing to do My Good Work in that country you called America? I'm pretty sure I sent Abe, Jack, Bobby and King for a reason.
Why did you claim to understand Me so well when I'm obviously having trouble understanding what you're all up to?
What part of "turn the other cheek" didn't you understand?
What part of "love your neighbor as yourself" didn't you understand?
What part of "sell all you have and give your money to the poor" didn't you understand?
What part of "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven" didn't you understand?
What part of "Blessed are the Poor in Spirit...
"Blessed are Those who Mourn...
"Blessed are the Meek...
"Blessed are Those who Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness...
"Blessed are the Merciful...
"Blessed are the Pure in Heart...
"Blessed are the Peacemakers...
"Blessed are Those who are Persecuted because of Righteousness...
...didn't you understand?
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Thoughts from 1:30 on a Sunday Afternoon...
I'm tired. And it's my own idiot fault for being up late last night.
I keep perusing guitar ads and wishing I had all the money in the world to buy all the guitars I want. There's a package on one website for a remake of a '52 Telecaster and a '65 Princeton amplifier, and both sound wonderful. I feel like slipping over to the Gutiarschtadt--I mean, Guitar Center--and giving them a try.
Life is strange, but wonderful. Even despite its being frustrating here and there, and even when things don't live up to whatever seemingly reasonable expectations I'd put on them. I do wish things worked out in reality as nicely as I decide to formulate them in my mind.
And there are plenty of frustrations of late, in a lot of areas. Life is hard and takes a lot of resolve to get through, but like Hemingway wrote, life breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. I like that, a lot. It's Grace Under Fire, something Hemingway was constantly writing about, constantly living out in what he did, and something that I admittedly struggle with. It's accomplishing the impossible because you refuse to give up when things get tough. It's a helluva mantra and a helluva thing to lay before someone, but if more people lived that way, I imagine there would be a lot less complaining, despite perhaps more prevalent and legitimate reason to complain.
What I want is not going to come easy, and I've admittedly wasted a LOT of time in failing to try at it, but that's part of life as well--failing at trying, as much as failing when you try. Yoda once said that there is no Try, there is simply Do and Do Not. You either do something or you don't. Tough love, and a harsh lesson to learn, but I think there's value in a good Try. The above is an attack on the idea of the Try as being fatalistic, something you'll attempt despite your expectation to fail at it. But the good Try is a serious attempt, the willingness to laugh in the face of improbable odds and the temptation to expect failure in the attempt to actually achieve, and is actually a lot closer to Doing than to that failure-oriented try.
In related news, life is hard, get a (bleep) helmet.
I want to take a road trip down what's left of Route 66 someday. I want to drive a vintage or restored '60s Chevy convertible, with the top down, across the Mid- and Southwest sometime, stopping in little Mom-and-Pop places along the way, playing impromptu shows at bars here and there, just to get the atmosphere of a real bar crowd, and put together an album of music based on the live shows and perhaps original material worked out along the way. I want to see that over 2000-mile strip of road along the way, only 80% navigable as it may be, winding its way southwest through Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California; from Chicago to Santa Monica. Main Street, USA; and witness the heartbeat of America as it stands now and stood yesterday.
I don't really want to be famous, I don't want the baggage that would come with that. I'd rather be significant than famous. I would rather have a legacy than fame, because fame is fleeting, while a legacy lasts. I would rather be pertinent and relevant 100 years after I die or make my contribution than have all the money and popularity and attention now, to be stripped slowly away as years are accumulated to my life.
And if my legacy only applies to the few people I've personally helped and/or met along the way, so be it. So much the better.
If I have to die before I get old, I should hope I go after my parents. No parent should have to suffer the ordeal of burying their child, and I would rather have to deal with losing them than ever hope they'd have to deal with losing me. In fact, I hope I outlive you all, so that all of your deaths and the accumulated suffering of loss that would come with them would be my burden alone to bear, my cross to carry. Not that I'm full of myself and high-and-mighty, but I wouldn't wish pain on anyone I know.
There is a man sitting next to me that I'm having difficulty dealing with. Without going into description or making fun, I find it taxing to sit near him or even look at him because of who he is. And I hate that it's that way, because quite frankly, he can't really help who he is, and I know that. I'm trying so damn hard to be the shepherd, as a wise man once wrote. So damn hard. And it's not easy, but then again, I know it's not something I can do on my own. But it still takes effort from me, and I know that. Grace Under Fire, as we've established, is not an easy thing, but it is a good thing. I am far from faultless, and so the faults of others are not really my business, to quote a fellow seeker.
Stevie Ray Vaughan is playing guitar in the background, despite the fact that he's been dead for 20 years. He's still just as good as he was then, and someone that I will freely admit I have tons of respect for as a guitar player. Possibly one of my favorites. He joins my odd list of Favorite Guitar Players, many of whom strangely enough happened to have died. Stevie, meet Harrison, Hendrix and Houser. (and Hennessy? Nah...)
Don't beat me just because I said Harrison. Or panic because I said Houser.
I can't predict what your Hendrix experience will be.
I need to write that book. Seeing in Color will be great and relevant when it is finally written, so I just need to do it already.
That's enough for now. I know not many of you are reading. Thanks anyway, it is appreciated.
I keep perusing guitar ads and wishing I had all the money in the world to buy all the guitars I want. There's a package on one website for a remake of a '52 Telecaster and a '65 Princeton amplifier, and both sound wonderful. I feel like slipping over to the Gutiarschtadt--I mean, Guitar Center--and giving them a try.
Life is strange, but wonderful. Even despite its being frustrating here and there, and even when things don't live up to whatever seemingly reasonable expectations I'd put on them. I do wish things worked out in reality as nicely as I decide to formulate them in my mind.
And there are plenty of frustrations of late, in a lot of areas. Life is hard and takes a lot of resolve to get through, but like Hemingway wrote, life breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. I like that, a lot. It's Grace Under Fire, something Hemingway was constantly writing about, constantly living out in what he did, and something that I admittedly struggle with. It's accomplishing the impossible because you refuse to give up when things get tough. It's a helluva mantra and a helluva thing to lay before someone, but if more people lived that way, I imagine there would be a lot less complaining, despite perhaps more prevalent and legitimate reason to complain.
What I want is not going to come easy, and I've admittedly wasted a LOT of time in failing to try at it, but that's part of life as well--failing at trying, as much as failing when you try. Yoda once said that there is no Try, there is simply Do and Do Not. You either do something or you don't. Tough love, and a harsh lesson to learn, but I think there's value in a good Try. The above is an attack on the idea of the Try as being fatalistic, something you'll attempt despite your expectation to fail at it. But the good Try is a serious attempt, the willingness to laugh in the face of improbable odds and the temptation to expect failure in the attempt to actually achieve, and is actually a lot closer to Doing than to that failure-oriented try.
In related news, life is hard, get a (bleep) helmet.
I want to take a road trip down what's left of Route 66 someday. I want to drive a vintage or restored '60s Chevy convertible, with the top down, across the Mid- and Southwest sometime, stopping in little Mom-and-Pop places along the way, playing impromptu shows at bars here and there, just to get the atmosphere of a real bar crowd, and put together an album of music based on the live shows and perhaps original material worked out along the way. I want to see that over 2000-mile strip of road along the way, only 80% navigable as it may be, winding its way southwest through Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California; from Chicago to Santa Monica. Main Street, USA; and witness the heartbeat of America as it stands now and stood yesterday.
I don't really want to be famous, I don't want the baggage that would come with that. I'd rather be significant than famous. I would rather have a legacy than fame, because fame is fleeting, while a legacy lasts. I would rather be pertinent and relevant 100 years after I die or make my contribution than have all the money and popularity and attention now, to be stripped slowly away as years are accumulated to my life.
And if my legacy only applies to the few people I've personally helped and/or met along the way, so be it. So much the better.
If I have to die before I get old, I should hope I go after my parents. No parent should have to suffer the ordeal of burying their child, and I would rather have to deal with losing them than ever hope they'd have to deal with losing me. In fact, I hope I outlive you all, so that all of your deaths and the accumulated suffering of loss that would come with them would be my burden alone to bear, my cross to carry. Not that I'm full of myself and high-and-mighty, but I wouldn't wish pain on anyone I know.
There is a man sitting next to me that I'm having difficulty dealing with. Without going into description or making fun, I find it taxing to sit near him or even look at him because of who he is. And I hate that it's that way, because quite frankly, he can't really help who he is, and I know that. I'm trying so damn hard to be the shepherd, as a wise man once wrote. So damn hard. And it's not easy, but then again, I know it's not something I can do on my own. But it still takes effort from me, and I know that. Grace Under Fire, as we've established, is not an easy thing, but it is a good thing. I am far from faultless, and so the faults of others are not really my business, to quote a fellow seeker.
Stevie Ray Vaughan is playing guitar in the background, despite the fact that he's been dead for 20 years. He's still just as good as he was then, and someone that I will freely admit I have tons of respect for as a guitar player. Possibly one of my favorites. He joins my odd list of Favorite Guitar Players, many of whom strangely enough happened to have died. Stevie, meet Harrison, Hendrix and Houser. (and Hennessy? Nah...)
Don't beat me just because I said Harrison. Or panic because I said Houser.
I can't predict what your Hendrix experience will be.
I need to write that book. Seeing in Color will be great and relevant when it is finally written, so I just need to do it already.
That's enough for now. I know not many of you are reading. Thanks anyway, it is appreciated.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Life is...
Life is like a river... it has its twists and turns.
Life is like a grapefruit... it takes a while to get used to the flavor and then once you get used to it, it squirts you in the eye.
Life is a highway... I wanna ride it all night long.
Life is like a train... you're stuck on the tracks and it's comin'!
Life is a roller coaster... it has its ups and downs.
Life is a sexually transmitted disease, and GOOD NEWS! it's 100% fatal.
In the season of graduation, I've heard so many comparisons in regards to life. I sat through a ceremony recently where a graduate regurgitated a list of such comparisons that had been fed to her by well-meaning adults trying to lend some (small) semblance of guidance.
And it made me wonder, just what about graduation invokes such comparisons in regards to life? What about that season of one's life makes another want to "help" by making a blanket statement about life in general that's supposed to galvanize a youth into giving it their all?
I suppose if I had to guess, I'd say that the uncertainty of the future lends itself to such a thing, that a high school graduate (or college graduate, or what-have-you) is, at that point, looking out at the future and seeing nothing but a white sheet, a blank canvas without definition. And, admittedly, that sort of thing is frightening. It can be terrifying, really, particularly for a 17- or 18-year-old kid with not much on their mind but what they heard on the radio this morning or what they're having for dinner tonight, or what their friends are doing today. This brings about that well-meaning adult who wants to condense the experience down to a single metaphor, something that the kid can take with them on their journey, some small bit of expectation so that, when life hits one of its many bumps-in-the-road or twists-in-the-river or whatever metaphor we're using this week, they can in some respect say, I was ready for this.
But the condensation of life down into one simple allegory or metaphor or comparison or simile is a bit disconcerting. Life may be like a river, but it may also be like a desert. Life may be like a roller coaster but I'm sure for some it's like a stroll in the park. Life is short, but it's also the longest thing you do. The metaphors conflict--there's no water in the desert. No bumps or sudden twists and turns in the park. And sure, life IS sexually-transmitted and it IS 100% fatal (it sure will kill you), but is it fair to call it a disease?
Life is, I think, like life. That's why we have the word for it. That little four-letter word encompasses so much, from a miracle at the beginning to what we cling to at the end. From something hard to something worth doing. From something fragile and temporary and precious to something cold and long and meaningless. It's so much, from a breath of fresh air to a forest teeming with species of plants and animals, a baby bouncing on a knee and an 80-year-old man playing tennis.
Life is like life, there's nothing else like it. There's not much you can do to prepare for it beforehand, and not much you can undo once it's done. You're given a steady dose over the course of your life and you can't afford to waste any of it. And as imperative as that seems, you also must find time to relax and enjoy it. It's not easy, but nothing ever worth doing has been. And when it comes down to it, it's really all you have.
Life is like a grapefruit... it takes a while to get used to the flavor and then once you get used to it, it squirts you in the eye.
Life is a highway... I wanna ride it all night long.
Life is like a train... you're stuck on the tracks and it's comin'!
Life is a roller coaster... it has its ups and downs.
Life is a sexually transmitted disease, and GOOD NEWS! it's 100% fatal.
In the season of graduation, I've heard so many comparisons in regards to life. I sat through a ceremony recently where a graduate regurgitated a list of such comparisons that had been fed to her by well-meaning adults trying to lend some (small) semblance of guidance.
And it made me wonder, just what about graduation invokes such comparisons in regards to life? What about that season of one's life makes another want to "help" by making a blanket statement about life in general that's supposed to galvanize a youth into giving it their all?
I suppose if I had to guess, I'd say that the uncertainty of the future lends itself to such a thing, that a high school graduate (or college graduate, or what-have-you) is, at that point, looking out at the future and seeing nothing but a white sheet, a blank canvas without definition. And, admittedly, that sort of thing is frightening. It can be terrifying, really, particularly for a 17- or 18-year-old kid with not much on their mind but what they heard on the radio this morning or what they're having for dinner tonight, or what their friends are doing today. This brings about that well-meaning adult who wants to condense the experience down to a single metaphor, something that the kid can take with them on their journey, some small bit of expectation so that, when life hits one of its many bumps-in-the-road or twists-in-the-river or whatever metaphor we're using this week, they can in some respect say, I was ready for this.
But the condensation of life down into one simple allegory or metaphor or comparison or simile is a bit disconcerting. Life may be like a river, but it may also be like a desert. Life may be like a roller coaster but I'm sure for some it's like a stroll in the park. Life is short, but it's also the longest thing you do. The metaphors conflict--there's no water in the desert. No bumps or sudden twists and turns in the park. And sure, life IS sexually-transmitted and it IS 100% fatal (it sure will kill you), but is it fair to call it a disease?
Life is, I think, like life. That's why we have the word for it. That little four-letter word encompasses so much, from a miracle at the beginning to what we cling to at the end. From something hard to something worth doing. From something fragile and temporary and precious to something cold and long and meaningless. It's so much, from a breath of fresh air to a forest teeming with species of plants and animals, a baby bouncing on a knee and an 80-year-old man playing tennis.
Life is like life, there's nothing else like it. There's not much you can do to prepare for it beforehand, and not much you can undo once it's done. You're given a steady dose over the course of your life and you can't afford to waste any of it. And as imperative as that seems, you also must find time to relax and enjoy it. It's not easy, but nothing ever worth doing has been. And when it comes down to it, it's really all you have.
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