….they were humble…

So growing up, my set became to stay humble at all costs.  There would be no credit I would accept. I deflected it like a mirror reflects sunlight, and even further, to keep myself from getting a “big head” I embraced the criticism of others, taking blame whenever it was on the table like a sneaky child who steals a cookie from the coffee table when their parents aren’t looking.  I basked in this lifestyle, and although it worked at the time, because I felt it was what God wanted me to be, I find now that I’m paying back all those costs that I waived years ago.

My existence is the result of taking things too far here.  Faith, for me, became too much about living right and less about being right.  Katie and I fight this now, and I realize my flaw.  Through fearing becoming arrogant, I have shot myself so down that my mom even herself called it out once. “You have really low self-esteem son” she once said.  Though I insisted she was wrong because honestly I enjoy a lot about who I am, I’ll admit now she was right and I was wrong (I know, big right, I feel like Stephen Colbert after he apologized on Air lol).  The point here is that sometimes we can do things that shoot us in the foot, and they can even be good things with great intentions, as was the case in mine.  I wanted to be the right kind of man, so I made sure I didn’t become big headed, all the while taking for granted the concept that part of being a man is an untouchable sort of confidence, the same kind my wife now announces she’ll get on me for until I redevelop it.  I couldn’t agree more with her.  I took things too far in how I raised myself and now I have a problem, if she’d not revealed it someone or something else would have.

So I’m going to make a point to take more pride in what I do.  I’ll give more praise to God because that’s what’s right to do, but there will be thrill to “Yeah, I DID just do that.”   Did you really just run that 11:46 2-mile Burch? “Hell yes Sir, and I’m very proud of it.  I’ve worked hard and it’s nice to see dividends.”  That kind of exchange will be much more common from now on, because I love my wife and love myself, who I am, and I’m going to prevail over this obstacle that I laid down in my own path.

It’s time to make it over the log in the pond so I can swim the rest of the race….

It’s perhaps unrelated that I’m trying to distance myself from Facebook lately.  My own concerns being no longer relevant to fill the void of perpetual statuses and photo updates, I turn my attention to my blog even as my own desire to be there for people and to enjoy the people I know goes unsatisfied.  How remarkable to have such a conflict of interests.  On one hand, I so strive to be everyone’s friend that I run myself ragged.  On the other, I try to be strong and hold the line in the sand, endlessly happy with what I already have, among other things a teddy bear named George and a soft brown blanket.

In this sea of thoughts I find myself sleepless and I call my loved one.  She’s at work still, and doesn’t have much time.  Eventually I fear that she’ll get tired of these late evening calls, me just wanting to hear her voice because I wish for all my soul she was with me and the idea that she talks to me makes me feel better.   Yet sleep is a forward charging animal that I can’t help but let elude me, and soon it’s time for me to get my gear setup for today’s FTX.  Ultimately though, this will be an exercise of my mind more than anything.  An exercise in which I have to prove to myself that I can fortify this heart against the most stressful and least desired of tasks and shrug them off as the come after me.  A test to see if I can get myself to use that very love that Katie has so much of for me to fortify the nervousness that comes with 3 weeks away from her.  A test to see if I can fortify my soul to overcome that one dangerous foe, the only “real” foe, when it really counts…

….fear…..

I may not like my chances here, I may feel over-matched, but I WILL PASS.  WE will give ME strength, and I will pass this test with God’s help, and with Katie’s help.

Point is, my focus was hardly where it should have been.  I was dreaming of driving my beloved little truck off-road in the desert somewhere deserted, the tires of my truck grazing the open sand like a cheetah on the plains of Africa in pursuit of some poor piece of prey.  Or maybe I was dreaming about just something so simple as driving my little truck down the exit of I-70 in Kansas, pulling through Abilene, turning left on Old Highway 40, and heading west exactly 2.3 miles to that lovely little house which my parents live in.  Either way, Taylor Swift was rocking my socks off, serenading my newly reconstructed right eardrum with lovely melodies.  But as I drove around, this was interrupted by a sound from within my truck somewhere.  I tried to ignore it, playing it off as my sound system acting up.  Five minutes later I heard it again.  Now I’m concerned.

You see, life is a fearless open road for me in this little truck.  As old as she is, already at 150,000 miles, I have put that truck through practical hell.  No I don’t mean just Fort Bliss or the drive through Oklahoma, I mean I’ve pushed it to what should have been it’s limits.  I’ve done everything from accelerating quickly and pushing the RPM gauge into the red, to hauling loads well over the weight it should be able to handle in the bed.  I’ve turned sharply, almost got stuck a couple of times in sand, spun out in gravel, and even run over 10-inch tall steel rods without consequence.  In other words, the sheer fact that this truck still can drive at all after what I’ve put it through is amazing, bordering on epic.  I’ve had no problems with it yet in any way.  It’s a sturdy little truck doing things far beyond my expectations….

….Yet still, I heard a noise….frick!

I’m reminded by this of an old truth.  If you’ve ever hung around in a town very long, you have probably seen what every city, big or small, has; That one old person that looks like they are 95 and shouldn’t even be alive still, yet you still see them out running 10 miles every morning at exactly 4:45.  You know who they are, maybe you’re related to one of these super-old people.  They go to bed with a protein shake every night, wake up with a milkshake of mixed vegetables every morning, and eat pasta for lunch without fail.  Somehow, like the Energizer bunny, they just keep on going and going and going.

….but eventually age catches up with everything….

That’s what I’m reminded of on this warm Sunday morning.  Like a piano player who remembers how to play a song that they thought they had forgotten so many years ago, I’m reminded that no matter how sturdy or faithful the old man running or the old truck driving is, age and life and time catch up with all things.  We become the very prey that the cheetah chases across the open African plain, and machines are no different.  The only the thing that we have up on them is that we can actually procreate, not just in the physical form, but in the ideas that we pass on.  The recipe for cornbread that you’ll watch your fifth generation of grandchildren make while you’re in heaven is based on the idea to throw in that secret ingredient you might discover tomorrow.  The computer system you pioneer could be the very one that allows your grandchildren or their cousins to compensate for bad road conditions and ultimately survive a car crash.

Don’t forget that.  Don’t ever forget that aside from God, Love, and ideas, nothing can escape time forever.  So plan accordingly….

Thanks for reading

Oh well, I’m sure we can work with that somehow…. 

Welcome to my Studio. First off, I’ll answer some obvious questions.  Yes, that IS original. Yes Mr. Reporter way there in the back, that IS the limit of my artistic ability on a good day.  No, I don’t do this professionally, though I thank you for the sarcasm Ms. Reporter in the front row with the red dress.  Thank you for your time laddies and Gentlemen. (I walk out)

….

….

No, but in truth, there is a significance to that photo and to the new mentality that I’m approaching my room with now.  Though against my better judgement, the U.S. Army has INSISTED I live in their little building at their expense.  No worries, they’ll suffer for it in the end.  I’ll take three showers a day every time I get the chance, I think I’ve already hit that today and I’m looking into the feeling I have that I may take a fourth slightly before bed. I’ll keep my air conditioning on all day when I’m away, turned all the way down to 65 degrees, it’s lowest setting for the record, so that every time I come home for five minutes, I can bask in the cool air like a child running through a sprinkler in the middle of summer, without a care in the world about school or anything else, which is basically how I feel whenever I walk into my room.  Yes, I’ll make the army pay for it, and in the meantime I’ll make my own privacy behind the wall of a piano and a stand-up locker so that it’s almost like I have my own room back in Manhattan, Kansas.

But the significance here is just the joy of being able to say all that.  I’m an introvert at heart, though I love being around people (try that for a combination right!  it’s even better living within that lol).  So privacy = a big thing for me, and it’s a joy because tonight, with that sign being completed at the peak of my desire for something to do, I can safely say that I have MY spot in a whole new way.  I can write about loving my wife more than blinds love windows or bees love flowers or flowers love butterflies or rock stars love drugs.  I can sit here and talk to myself about how I can’t wait to say “I love you” again to her or “good morning” or “I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I talk to you and I want to hold your hand.”  I can just lay here in my bed like a child while I look up at the photo of us at the altar like a child looks up sleepily at their mom, their sole source of protection in their gentle eyes, after just having had a satisfying meal and a comfy nap.  I can look up at the “I love you” painting that she once made me for our first Valentines day together and just dream about holding her hand or being tickled by her randomly whenever it is that she finally figures out just how ticklish I really am…hehehehe hint hint babe .  Kidding.

So, now I sit.  It’s almost midnight.  Long beyond my traditional bedtime, and what am I doing?  Enjoying freedom that was always there and peace that is there no matter what now that I happen to be married to the greatest person I’ve ever had the honor of crossing swords with.

Thanks for reading

As a general issue I have with myself, I have been unable to consistently run.  I love running (I think) but it’s just one of those things that I haven’t quite attained a taste for.  Being a morning person I’d tried many things prior to today, including running after work, but since I live in El Paso, that usually meant running in triple digit temperatures, which I’m not exactly fond of doing having tried that approach.

So today I set to something new, using that same morning persona that tends to piss people off more than I wish, I woke up at 2:15 local time after sleeping in my running clothes, put on my reflective belt and iPod, and went then.  As I passed the 24 hour guard here at the barracks, I was asked “What the hell are you doing” in the wonderful Puerto-Rican accent that my buddy Lopez has, followed by “Are you fucking crazy? (you sounding more like “Jew” here to give you an idea of what it’s like).  To the latter I replied simply “yup! ” and went on my way.  It was a wonderful run that I plan on replicating in the foreseeable future many times.

So now it’s about 8 A.m.  My roommate’s awake and my wife should be on Skype soon (her being in Seoul after all).  I have had two pieces of cold Little Caesars pizza and a can of Pepsi since my run.  I’ve called my wife for one fleeting but wonderful conversation, written one long poem, and taken one really nice cool shower with a short sweet nap right afterward.

The joy though, is that my day’s best is yet to come. For sitting on the table at the foot of my bed is a coffee pot of fresh brewed coffee, and not just any coffee, Starbucks Pike Place roast, which so far is my favorite coffee roast yet.  The blackness of the coffee goes right up to the “8 cups” line on the pot which is also facing me, and it’s so dark I’m sure I could shine a laser pen at it with little or no effect.  Coffee is one of those things that makes me think about random things.  I don’t know if it’s that lovely aroma that fills the room or what, but something about it just makes me think about things like “Why is it that people are so impressed with Chuck Norris for pushing the ground down, when the son of my God parted the seas?” or “Why are accidental keys on a piano traditionally black while natural ones are traditionally white?”.   Regardless though, the simple fact is that I don’t really care enough about these random thoughts to do any more dwelling upon them than it simply takes to mention them.  So I’ll get up for the first time in the last hour, leave my cozy bed for one of hopefully very few times this morning, and pour myself a shot of the greatest drink since the invention of the “screwdriver.”

May your days be as happy and joy filled as the one I’m about to start will be.

Thanks for reading….

It was here we found our companion tonight.  Starving in body, mind, and soul for various things as he drove the empty streets alone.  He would not have noticed rush hour traffic for how he honestly felt but he gratefully took solace in the empty streets.  He was tired, five miles of run had worn out his body while his frustration with his roommate wore out his mind.  Earlier that evening he had slept, but the effects had been more grogginess than anything.

So he consoled himself in the empty streets.  They were barren, empty with anticipation for Monday mornings workouts.  It was 91 degrees, yet our companion bore his black sweatshirt all the same.  To him, it was a status symbol that he’d never fully shed through departure from college into the military.  Even at Basic Training it had been sitting in his personal bag, locked away but ever calling his name while it waited to be worn again.  It was a badge, an external symbol that told others “Here resides a Writer.”  A sort of status symbol that elevated him to the level of some of history’s greatest minds.  And, as our companion sat down to write, there was one of those moments that transcends the mind.  He wrote, and he wrote, afraid to let his mind alone long enough to dwell on the fact that it felt alone.  Afraid to dwell on how much he’d rather have been anywhere else in the world tonight, and how much he’d have done not to have been alone, forced to keep his own mind company.

That Girl, THE ONE he loves, resided across the sea, a prisoner of fate, that bindeth you and me.  As the world did sleep in peace tonight, my heart did make a plea, that all may never take for granted, the price we paid for what they got for free.

Thanks for reading…..

General Washington led the first war for modern democracy.  He used significant support and some of the best strategic minds of our history to overcome a force that looks remarkably similar to our very own military on a global scale some 228 years later.  Based on what I watched on the History Channel that weekend, it’s clear that his unique approach to people was what helped make him successful.  Instead of doing what seems more often the case with modern generals, Mr. Washington did the polar opposite and EMBRACED the responsibility of listening to his closest circle.  His decisions in battle were based largely on the opinions of his subordinates, and helped to make him one of the greatest names in world history.

That approach, that dedication to trusting those whom you trust to give you sound and sturdy advice, is one I hope to emulate as I develop myself into a leader.

As always, thoughts are welcome and encouraged.

Thanks for reading….

Sincerley,

Writer98

Sitting here in the dark though makes me reminiscent.  Relaxing to the tune of Earl Grey tea, with the dark surrounding me and the music flowing into my ears like cleansing shower water, I find myself embraced by the moment.  It isn’t all that uncommon for me to be that way, I”d like to think I’m good at getting lost in the moment.  So as I sit here just rocking to the music, I feel particularly pleasant, or, as Bob Toy might say, “indecently pleased with” myself.

The night was long, I stayed up most of the night waiting upon my long distance lover to show her lovely face upon Skype, but then was coerced by destiny to stay awake until my roommate fell asleep.  I woke up at about 3, deciding to initially try and wait for Katie, but then opting to take a shower and complete my devotional for the day in a freshly created folder within the poetry section of my computer.  It turned out to be quite the bargain of reasoning, as I completed both tasks, the later far harder than the former I might add, before my beloved even arrived.

Yesterday I began memorizing Sonnet 148 by William Shakespeare.  It’s quite the poem, but I chose to memorize it because, more than anything, it applies to my own life.  It talks about how blind love makes us, and then reasons that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I was very blessed to stumble on it.  I think I may start hitting Shakespeare’s sonnets hard as I seek to memorize more and more poetry.  Besides the Psalms, of which I still seek to pick from for memorization, I consider good Mr. Shakespeare’s sonnets some of the most challenging and interesting literature around.  I actually came across Sonnet 148 as I sought T-Shirts online with my beloved that had pretentious and smart-ass poet comments on them. Who knew that aiming for such a wonderful title as the “smart-ass” could turn out to be so fulfilling!  haha oops, think I was just a smart-ass….

Anyways, today looks to be a very neat day, but pain may not be very easy to avoid.  The audiologist is planning on doing a C.T. scan of my head today to look for what he suspects is damaging my hearing.  If he finds it, and he said he’s 90% sure he will, then it’ll mean surgery, if not today then in the very near future.  That could be good though, as it would bring my hearing back up to 100% for the first time since I was 14 years old. It seems so hard to imagine that all these years I’ve been physically impaired.  It’s even harder to imagine that in the next month, I could loose that impairment.  I wonder how different it’ll be!?!

As always, today looks like a great day, it always is when you start it with prayer, music, and thoughts of your loved one.  Hope you all have as great a day as I will.

Thanks for reading….

Maybe I sound crazy, but I’ll tell you this:  I plan on going back to that pond every day for the rest of my life.  I plan on nearly dieing every time and I plan on enjoying the fruits of nature in this very pond.  What’s craziest to me is that, just as I felt the water change from warm to cold and cold to frigid, I got to experience the joy of seeing the pond creatures of the morning come out, live, then be chased away by the afternoon and evening creatures.  I saw the pond go from pure and clean like a Caribbean spring, to murky and muddy and seemingly dirty, polluted by the currents caused by my kicking legs.  I saw the prettiest of animals and I saw the most dangerous and at times they were one in the same.

So don’t expect me to be anywhere else for the rest of my life.  I may have almost died, but I remain unafraid.  I will forever swim in this very pond that almost destroyed me.  I will learn to live there no matter how tough, through all four seasons.  I will love what I can get along with and will learn to respect, cherish, and love all that I don’t get along with.  I will come to this pond when it’s clean and clear and I will come when it is at it’s darkest and most murky.  I love this pond, it’s peace surrounds me whenever I think about it no matter where I am, and I will not miss a single moment around it.  The pond may have nearly killed me, but I plan on dieing a thousand deaths to this pond if it’s intent be to kill me, because I will not die, and I will simply suffer through the learning experience that almost dieing will be, and soon, I’ll be able to live in total peace and harmony.  Physically, mentally, spiritually <3

As I sat in my cozy little one bedroom barracks place in the top western corner of magical building 2471 here at Fort Bliss, I found myself desiring something of beauty.  Maybe it was the way the world changed this week, in many cases for the worse.  Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to call my family yet this week, even though it was already Thursday.  Or, my favorite excuse for desiring to see the world in a positive light: maybe it was the pure fact that I woke up at 1:30 and it was now nearly 3.

So, with a cup of, no longer hot, hot chocolate in my hand, I sat down to seek some indulgence of the eye or heart or mind.  I did my best, looking in the obvious places first like amErica photography’s page hoping to find a website of some kind, then looking at the “Today was Good” page that I’m a fan of on Facebook, before turning to the not so obvious places like CNN.com, biting my metaphorical pen in a fit of woe like Sir Philip Sidney use to when faced with his lover (read “Loving in Truth and Fain in Verse my love to show” by him to understand that comment, or just read on).

After finding no contentment for this craving of my heart, I sat back, breathed, and thought about where I was.  Then “IT” hit me, and I had what Thane Chastain would have called a “moment of profound awareness.”

My room, this area that I do my work, my place where I study the world, religion, others, myself and everything else, could be called much.  In this room, I do it all.  I converse with my long distance lover, I plan my budget, I set my goals and stick them to my wall, I write my most favorite quotes of inspiration and stick them up on another wall dedicated just to them.   I watch the news, feel the news, think, dream, and create the news all from this little cubby hole of drywall and linoleum.  This, for me, is where the world changes.  Where my definition is created, my standards enforced, and my desires first make the jump from subconscious to conscious.

Any news anchor or media representative or fan of the news might call this my “Warroom”.  In truth, war is waged here, against everything from people to bad habits to the very limits of destiny itself.  But here, on this morning not unlike so many others, a new idea is born, a new philosophy undertaken, and a new standard for myself is set, only to apply to this very place.

I therefore ban the use of the adjective “warroom” to describe this humble noun.  “War” implies negativity, implies sorrow, implies doubt and stacked-against odds.  This place will not be a temple of such concepts.

Thus, I deem my room to be my “Art Studio.”  Here, the world will be seen for it’s beauty, and every effort will be taken to assure the world sees what good it has in it.  I will not consider this a sanctuary of doubt any longer.  Here, anything is possible, as is Biblically written for all those who believe in Christ.  Here, dreams, no matter how foolish or self-centered or illogical or irrational, will be recognized.

My prayer, as it always has been will be this:  “Lord, I thank you for the beauty you allow me to see in the world. I pray only that you give me enough of your grace to help others see the same. Amen”.

Thanks for reading…