A look back before the look forward.

I convince myself time and time again that some things do not matter. However, in reality, they pierce through my shell and strike at my very core. How dysfunctional I feel at times. Here I am. I live where I do not feel at home. I push most people away, and then when all of it hits me, I feel bewildered. How did I become this man? And when will it all be worth it.

My brother once told me that I was too focused on the future. He said I would miss the present. I do not feel he is completely right. I climb when I can. I try to dive into the social scene as much as I can. I bike. I run. I swim. I go on random adventures. Yet, I hold back a piece of me while I am here. I cannot go all out. I cannot be my full self. I am so scared of staying here. I became distant from Alice simply for the reason of saving myself from staying here for two extra years. Was it worth it?

I am traveling to Colorado for three weeks come this weekend. I have many things planned. This trip has been a long time coming. I need to revamp my spirits and intellect. If I have learned anything from all of this, it is this: I must believe in myself and my actions. I cannot afford to dilly dally and question all my actions. This will be a great time to reflect on who I am, what I want and where I shall go.

This year will be a time of many changes. I shall apply to law school, finish my master's degree and train for three races, one which seems nearly impossible at this point. I am already making progress with all three. Nothing is impossible.

"We aim above the mark to hit the mark." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Negative Nancy Post.

Maybe this is a bit in the moment and maybe I am taking too much from this; however there is an evident pattern happening here.

I really hope I don't spend the rest of my life alone. I feel that I am too easily forgotten.

To lose a friend is an awful thing.

To lose and pretend one's loss is but a trifle when it is simply not has become a specialty of mine. I will have to face it one day, but here, in the present, I march forward into more mysterious days. Expressed later as a tear or a grip of sorrow, I will wince away and prevent anyone from seeing it. I know some will know when I start to fall into a melancholy state of mind of how I carry loss for some time afterward. By now, even I realize, the amount of pain perceived later will be greater than the amount of pain I receive now. Yet time is of the essence now. I cannot slow down.

Soon I will be alone on a path in the mountains, camping underneath the stars and collecting myself before this final onslaught before law school. I shall then shed tears for those friends who were lost, who conveyed that their real interests were not in friendships, but rather in words. Maybe, as they say, I am too dramatic. Yet what is the value of a friendship if it is only expressed in words? For me, a friend is someone nearer and truer. A friend is someone I should/would give up something great to end his/her struggle. A friend for me is someone truly special. If one does not value my friendship, I shall not carry it too far. I would rather it fall by the wayside, and hope it sprouts legs and walks back and proves that I was wrong in my pursuit to cast it out. I have friends who are fun and funny, witty and intelligent, deep and caring, terse and straight, lonely and wandering, curious and wondering. I have friends of all types. They are sometimes the only ones I can count on.

I know that for some, I will never be a good friend. I will never be able to give them what they need. However sad it may be, part of life is acceptance. I shall accept this reality, and move towards those who need me or want me in their life.

"A friend to all is a friend to none." - Aristotle.

Wisdom and Courage

Deep, green, iridescent swirls spiral downward and across in a slow moving spring somewhere. The stones that sleep at the side of this pool, lay covered with the inscriptions of ten thousand years. Humble is the one who stands at the side of this well. His feet press against the stone where he too must make his inscription. His mind traces the unforgiving eddies. Is his heart calm? Or does it leap at each beat, artfully chasing the rhythm of his desires? Only his heart can tell him what inscription to make. Once an inscription is made, he knows the only thing to do is jump. It is the unknown that scares him the most.

Somewhere is my spring and my inscription. I pray for the wisdom to make my inscription. I pray for the courage to jump.

The Scene Aesthetic

How great the aesthetics of this world do affect me. The white, puffy clouds, grow and flow outward against the crystal blue sky. Relaxation shimmers in a silent, meandering spring. Inspiration to aspiration flows down across me with the wind as it rips down silent, granite peaks in an intrinsic, inescapable melody. I am connected to these beautiful instances. 

I look into my mind accepting and expecting nothing less than this dynamism. Yet, from time to time, I find myself  not following this happier path. I find myself falling and then waking in the stream of discontent. The aesthetics of my social world greatly affect me. The people I allow into my life either help me balance and succeed, or they - with their self-destructive forces - twist my optimism enough to pull me from my path.

Carbondale is a dangerous place. Sometimes, it feels as if I am on a river, paddling against the current. Behind me, there is a giant waterfall, and I have seen not only the water's edge, but the mist wafting from the canyon floor. This past winter, I became so depressed as I struggled to find someone to trust. I thought countless times of how it could fall apart, of how I again may slip into poverty. (Even if I intentionally slipped last time, I feel as if I came too close to not being able to support myself. I lost a lot of confidence in the process.)

 I have some great friends here. Yet I am also introduced to those who will only tear me from a better aesthetic. I want to see the best in everyone, but I must keep guard. It is beyond me how so many get swept into so much self destruction when there is, truly is, so much beauty in this world.

Be Earnest

Truth be told, my last post was not too sincere. I guess sometimes we have to pick whether we want to digest all the truth and accept the reality of the situation or live in fantasy.

Truth is important. It's acceptance shapes the perception for everything. I would rather accept the world for how it is.

I have a way of not liking some of my decisions. Yet, for many reasons, I do not make decisions for absurd reasons. I have no idea how a situation may change after my decision. I am simply a man who has to do the best with what he has got.

I have great friends who celebrate the light and stand by me in the darkness. Thank you.

I am also very grateful for who I am and for the experiences that have led me this way. 

Some distant day maybe people will stop seeing me for who I am not. They might see that I don't live as a reckless figure, but as a man who has a plan to live a peaceful life; someone who can fall asleep knowing he did not take his excess from one who could not afford to lose a morsel. My conscience hangs over me as a wise, old friend. He reminds me that even in the darkest of times, it is not worth losing the truer aspects of my soul. For this, I am very thankful. For now, while some see me in such a dismal light, I shall stare up into those cherished stars while remembering my younger self on so many lonely, warm nights. I burned for everything back then. I would have accepted anyone. I would have forgiven anyone. I let my heart loose and wished for so much.

So I have been burnt a few times now ... Truth is that I live for this. I live for the optimism that I may someday find what I have searched so far for.

Well ... That's what I get.

I fell in love with a young girl. I knew what was going to happen, and then it did. What a bummer! C'est la vie. I never expected too much from the relationship anyway. If not for Zion, it would not have compared to too many of my other relationships ...  Zion was amazing.

I need to get back out West. I need to be more picky about who I date also. Yet, I am glad I was optimistic enough to believe in it in the first place.

I shall be optimistic again. With that I say good night, for I go back to my first love (beautiful rock climbing) tomorrow. :-)

My hope is a young tree

I sat with someone last night, and I wondered why I had cared so much so long ago. In the night, sitting there talking, I felt as if she was a fine girl, but I could never give her what she needs or wants from life. For love had no chance down this path. 

As time courses over my soul, it roughens it in some places, smooths it in others. It leaves memories only a semblance of what they once were. The present gives a certain crispness in lieu of such fading emotions. For once, I was in love. Now, I am a man who can see the futility in it all. So instead, I will climb. I will run. I will bike. I will study and write; and I will cultivate my mind. For if there is no soul that feels utterly attached to mine, then I shall break free from the shackles of this cumbersome burden of trying to find something that does not exist. 

My hope is a young tree. Given water and sunshine in its youth, it burrowed its roots deep underground. It understands that deep roots will pull up the groundwater during a drought. It understands that deep and wide roots will help keep it stable. Like any tree, it knows the higher it grows, the more storms, the more winds, the more danger it will face. Some will come and want to chop it down for the moment of energy they might gain. Some will come with their poison and try to taint the groundwater. But I have already tested the texture of this tree. I have thrown fires at it that may have killed other trees with less bark. I have given it no water and asked it to grow. I have turned my back on this tree too many times.

Nevertheless, this tree has saved me.

It has kept me from the brink and sheltered me from what is sometimes a desert of despair. 

It has been nurtured by few, and it has pulled from the greatness of  the unknown. It has held onto the aesthetic and basked in the glory of adventure and freedom. 

This young tree will most likely endure much more. Yet, I should strive harder to give it fresher water and a fresher view.  

Exam Day

What seems impossible is just a task for which we have not devised a strategy. Steinbeck wrote that he would feel the burden of any of his books as something impossible. Yet, his writing has given birth to some of the best American prose.

I recently took a law exam. Soon, I will be measured against people who have been in the practice of studying for law and writing law exams for three years. It is as if I jumped on a harder climb to see what it is like and found myself confidently climbing. The challenge of this exam was a bit like a climb. It was scary. It was nerve wracking at times. Yet, the journey through the test and the feeling afterward made me feel amazing.

I cannot lose sight of who I am.
I cannot lose sight of what I need from this life.

Writing for Catharsis

"You may not trust the promises in the change I show, but I will be yours if you'll be mine," Mumford & Sons sang last summer at Bonnaroo. I was just listening to it, and it forced my hand to write these words. I just needed to get them out.

I sometimes can't get over the fact we shared so much. We shared a love for reading great literature, the same literature, and the lyrics of great music carried our hearts together as we walked. So deep was our connection, that when she tempted to go out onto that vertical ledge of the climbing world, she sounded as if she knew the rhythm of my heart, and it carried back into me, and I felt excited again about the prospects of climbing in a new place. I can understand more knowing now that I cannot have her ... and knowing how great and how painful it is to share this with her. It is an empathy that stings with pain, that creases my heart to be gentler and yet braver knowing that it can endure much more than what I once thought.

I have thought a lot of where I will go this summer once the UCOWR conference and LSAT is done. I have thought maybe I will take a friend with me. I have also thought that maybe I will see my brother. I have also more recently thought that I will go off on my own for a while. I may stay in the U.S., and yet I may leave. There are benefits to both. I wonder where this world will take me?

The rain falls tonight in little drops. I will soon finish the last question in stats and then pick up a friend at the train station in the wee morning hours. I feel calm and well. Writing always seems to soothe my heart.

You there! Keep a lookout!

Out there, the desert seemed to be everywhere. Water was precious. It gave meaning to me. I felt it wash over my skin as I jumped into baby blue Lake Powell. I remember rolling through the waves like a seal, the crimson cliffs TOWERING above me. The red rock served as a constant reminder that the desert was still out there, thirsty and dangerous. Without water, I would have withered.

It is good to remember the truth of things. For even when a tiny sliver of truth remains, it will live on. The Midwest ruins the importance of water. It seems to be everywhere.

Yet, there are many things that are missing here. And if I can find them here, I am sure they will course over my rough soul just as the smooth waters of Lake Powell once coursed over my rough skin. 

Friendship

This is Easter.

I could ramble on in another of my posts. Yet, I won't.

I would give everything for a genuine hug.

It isn't so much the tasks. It is the haunting feeling that as I "progress" in life, I fall away from friends, loved ones and the more important aspects of what makes this life great.

The Warm Pre-summer Drizzle

The leaves are out again. Their presence brings about a renewal of life. Presently, a warm drizzle wafts down from above. Today reminds me of Pennsylvania.

~ I finished my first year of university. I was down about leaving Colorado, but excited about a journey that brought me back to something more fulfilling and meaningful. It was an adventure for a purpose, but it meandered in a grand way. I had met a kindred spirit (the first I had met in my 19 years). We had written letters back and forth since meeting. It was a rambling poetic prose that fed from the vigor of our youth and expression of two poetic hearts. Back then, I thought I was in love. I had never met another kindred. I was determined to find out what it all meant.

Very soon, I found myself a summer camp counselor in the Poconos. I embarked on four hour trips to see this kindred spirit who was in actuality, a very sharp and shy contrast from her words. We met the first time on an island bridge in the fog. We met then and only one time since. Our friendship has survived, however, within the same kindred prose. Other times I remember, were the days I spent on the Delaware, days sailing with my kids, the mid-afternoon runs, the jaunts with the French gymnastics coach while I practiced my then, more practiced French, the sparring with the karate instructor, and the random adventures with my Scottish friend, Si. Life was new and bewildering. I had never been out East. I felt out of place, but at one in the midst of so much drive and ambition. ~

And now I feel that I sit here, at a crossroads in my life. Many people become more distant. I am getting older and hopefully wiser. I am forgiving myself for so many mistakes. For they have crafted my heart to see the world through this unique lens. 

An ode to the adventurous, cantankerous spirit

Why do people band together expectant of receiving benefits - benefits till this point that were only imagined never a reality? Why are any of us entitled to expect more from this life than just the ordinary? Why should we carve a path of our own, seek out the things that will make us stronger, more complete?

We are entitled because we breathe. We walk this earth and our conscious state should not succumb to the mundane.

I see a pattern forming. As life gets less dangerous, less mysterious, we lose more and more of ourselves. The bars of this prison get closer and closer. Why travel another world away when we read about it, listen to it and see it on Google.com? Why find a person of another culture when we can see him on a popular sitcom?

If we choose to live in the real world, full of peaks and troughs, it will be a rougher road. Yet! What are we here for? To breathe for the simple pleasure of breathing? NO! We are here to feel the pain, the anguish, the love, the depth of appreciation, the goose bumps, the chills, the mystery and rhythm that pervades life. If one chooses the "safe" known path, she will miss out on all this.

It's better with an open heart.

"So if ever someone says to you, "Life isn't fair. Get used to it." Then you should say, "Well, it might be, if folks like you would let it be."

It's a lot easier to be cold, but it's not life. I'd rather just work through the pain finally. It's clear she doesn't want me now. It takes a lot of courage to admit I was wrong, and to lower myself, accepting my faults. Yet this is the only way I'll get back to my true self. I could care less what people think. I wish she wouldn't have said  what she said. I wish she didn't ignore me now. The only things she says back to me are things I've done wrong. I guess that is fair enough. In the long run, I'd rather see it for how it is.

I went climbing today and then on a run. It felt good to be surrounded by people I knew, focusing on the rock and my movements. I climbed harder than usual and some good inner strength came back. I didn't fear the falls. I just took them.

I feel good that I finally told her how I felt. I needed to. It's a fair deal, I guess, that she doesn't have to even respond. I imagine she's just afraid to tell me how it really is. Acceptance can be a hazy mess sometimes. I always like to play the optimist, but I can see the end. I can see it and when I can accept it, I guess I can move on and keep my feelings with me this time. Last time, I just buried them with coldness. I knew I still cared, but I just buried them and accepted it as it couldn't be. Now it seems to be over. I guess I just wanted to hear it from her so I could move on with my feelings.

A run in the cold rain

To feel the first moments of a run while the rain came down and the cold shook my limbs was not a definite mystery. My cool muscles twitched nervously without rhythm. My lungs felt the shock of the cool air and my bald head felt the pain as the wind and cold greeted it in sudden gusts.

A few moments occurred where I sat in my car and wondered if the five miles in these conditions were really worth it. I knew it would only be the first half mile that would be painful. After this point, my joints and muscles would be properly warm, and I would fall into a rhythm. I also knew that last night while I sat in bed trying to fall asleep, I longed to run and run. I longed to reach out and touch the inner rhythms of my mind. I have to start realizing the value of things.

So many times, the moment, the place, the person is lost on us.

How dare I then not run! How dare I shrink away from life again? What am I here for but to live and breathe, to feel the pulse of life and vivacity of how extremely good and bad it can be?

Acceptance and patience are not virtues of mine. I accept too much then too little. I never wait long enough or when the time counts I wait too long. There are things I need from this life. I should move more swiftly in the present and the future. The past is past.

Steinbeck is a good friend.

With my mind wrapped around Steinbeck, I sit back against my bed and feel the cool breeze. I can't think of a better way to spend the night. George Washington is credited with the quote, "It is far better to be alone than to be in bad company." I doubt he was the first to say it. It must be a timeless sentiment. I am really tired of the scene here in Carbondale.

I can't wait to strike out onto the rock this summer. It poured tonight. So I doubt the rock will be dry tomorrow. Besides, I have too much work to get done. Tomorrow night is another story though. I'm going to snag a campsite somewhere. I know of a few backcountry sites that may be free and that would give me some more solitude. Or I could just settle on any site. I doubt with it dipping near 40, there will be much competition (maybe in Jackson). 

I could want for a thousand things right now, but it's just not worth it. I have a feeling that if I stick to my guns, people will be sorry for doubting me. I think if I stick to my guns, I will have no reason to doubt myself. Besides, life is just more fun and fulfilling this way.

The Power to Help a Person (never forget who I am)

I always seem to have the weirdest dreams.

~I saved a small girl. Her parents were horrible people. They yelled at her constantly. They yelled such negative things as parents often do when they seem to put the burden of never wanting kids directly on their kids. While sobbing uncontrollably, the small girl walked into the busy street. I felt tense as I watched car after car dodge her. Then, I could stand still no longer. I rushed into the traffic and snatched her up.

I saved her, and then I refused to give her up. I told her I would show her a way to find happiness. I refused to let society make yet another person miserable.~

This dream reminds me of something. First, I should not give up. There are people who need me to get through this. There are people who suffer, and I cannot help them if I am weak. Second, I must keep that genuine part of my soul alive. I love to help people. It is a major part of me. I have to keep it even if it hurts me, even if I make no money nor have a family of my own. I am not doing this for some obscure reason. I am doing it for every reason.

Emotions .... bleh.

I guess it doesn't have to be worth anything. At least it is sunny and warm outside.

I hate the phrase, "You'll find the right girl." I hate it especially coming from an ex who said she still loved me the night before. People are so fickle and inconsistent. Why does it even matter to me so much? Sometimes, I hate my emotional weakness.


It's time to see it for how it is: 

1. I need to start believing in myself again. 
2. Everything will fall into place.
3. Truth exists.
4. The people who abandon you weren't worth it. They will never be worth it. 
5. Every day is a new chance to find what I need from life.

Songs that will keep me going.

1. Let Me Be - Xavier Rudd
2. Black Rock - O.A.R. 
3. Hey Hey - Dispatch
4. True Believers - Bouncing Souls
5. Gone - Bouncing Souls
6. Home - O.A.R.
7. Shut It Down - MxPx
8. 3.2 - Hot Buttered Rum
9. Solace - Xavier Rudd
10. Teenage Riot - The Ataris
11. Tightrope - Orange 9mm
12. KRS One - Sublime
13. Redemption Song - Bob Marley
14. Chicago - Sufjan Stevens
15. Misfits - T.E.B.