Questions without answers

I need to vent.

Sometimes all I need is a platform from which to air my thoughts, my frustrations, my anger, my ideas...all the little things that rattle around in my head. This blog has served to fill that for a long time but I don't contribute often enough. As a consequence, I am constantly feeling like I have something on my chest. This weight of words is very heavy at times but ultimately I am the only one responsible for relieving that weight. All it takes is putting pen to paper, or more aptly, fingers to keys, and the weight lifts immediately. I love that about writing.

Currently, there are a few things that need to get out of my head.

First of all, the tragedy in Boston has really chapped my behind. Before diving too far, please know that my heart goes out to the families affected by the loss of 3 people, to the families affected by the injuries to more than 170 people, including life altering injuries like the loss of a limb and to the thousands of runners who were there for nothing more than running a truly epic race. This was indeed a tragedy.

Beyond that, let me say how disgusted I am by the immediate and vehement rhetoric that followed this tragedy. It is difficult for me to fathom how any sensible human being could be so filled with so much hatred, that the first thought that pops into one's mind is to believe this tragedy was caused by a Muslim. Quite literally, there is no proof whatsoever to suggest such an accusation. No group or individual has come forward claiming responsibility for these acts. There are no suspects who have been made public that would suggest these claims. And yet, within mere minutes of the events of Monday the 15th of April, hundreds of very public individuals took to the airwaves to condemn someone or some group without even the faintest piece of proof.

My friends, you should be offended. You should be sickened by the sheer ugliness that has become commonplace. As a society, I would hope and pray that each of us wished for some sort of unity for our country and for our world. This is not to suggest that peace is some big Kumbaya moment, but we each should understand that in order for any sort of unity to have a chance, we have to work together, we all have to accept some level of responsibility. The idea that an eye for an eye only leads to more blindness is a concept that seems to have been lost on a lot of very angry people. The fact that they themselves have already become blind, so to speak, is ironic, but there may be no saving some people.

What probably bothers me most is the fact that there are thousands of people who hear the vitriolic statements and agree with them. I know very sensible people who jumped on the bandwagon and replied to those same hate filled statements with assent. Do you really think that by eradicating one group of people, all the hate will be gone from the world? My dear friends, the hate will live on in your hearts, to be propagated in the future by the next thing you come to hate. Boston is simply the latest in a deluge of tragedies that we learn about on an almost daily basis. I pray it becomes something we can learn from, not something that pushes us further away from each other.

Another thing on my mind lately are marriages. I have been burdened, in a good way, by the deterioration of marriages and families and relationships. My heart aches when I hear of another family that is being torn apart by a plethora of factors. This burden really has nothing to do with gay marriage or which kind of family dynamic is struggling, I may tackle that later, but instead I grieve every time I hear about another couple that chooses to walk away. I have been so blessed by an amazing wife and the two of us have built a fantastic life together. Recently we watched a video that prompted us to discover that we are equally burdened by the same thing. That epiphany is leading us to look into how we can help.

Ultimately, I am convinced that people simply do not talk to each other enough. The lack of good communication is what is tearing this world apart and it's happening one family at a time. Couples come together because of a mutual attraction. But when that fades, a lot of times there is nothing of substance to sustain a relationship. It's almost as if couples need to be taught how to talk, how to effectively communicate what is on the inside, in order to grow and learn to love the person right next to you. I read something recently that suggested true love is simply a fairy tale. The idea is that real love takes a tremendous amount of work and that every relationship has the potential to stand the test of time if both people are willing to work at it. It's an interesting theory, and while it fails to address the issue of compatibility, it does correctly note that every relationship requires a great amount of work from both sides.

Lastly, I am about to make a rather serious change in my life and have been writing lately on the subject of change. I will make a point to post some of those writings to this blog very soon. In the mean time, I am grappling with some unnerving thoughts relating to managing this upcoming change. There is the issue of relating this major change to the world, so to speak. It is a good thing for me and naturally I want to shout it out but there are a lot of affected parties. I have kept it a secret until now and plan to continue to do so until everyone that needs to know has been told, but it has been hard not to blurt it out. I think the one thing that digs at me most is knowing that every time we make a change in life, the impact is felt far beyond what we can immediately see. I have written about the ripple effect before and this time is no different. Being sensitive to who these changes will impact is important to me and so I travel this road lightly for now so my ripple will hopefully be navigable by all.

Soon enough, a few thousand people will know and will be affected by this upcoming news. My immediate prayer is for knowing the right words to say and the right steps to take so as to be as honorable as possible in this time of change. For those who read this, stay tuned, that news is coming soon.

As I reread this tonight, I am seeing a very common theme in all of this and it is the word communication. It seems to me that much good could be had if we would simply be willing to talk to each more from an insightful perspective, and not an incite-ful one. I guarantee we have would wind up with more answers than questions.

The why

Writing is my escape.

I’ve been writing for over twenty-five years now and it has never occurred to me that I might need to explain my need and/or desire to write.

I was on Twitter this morning and there are several fellow writers that I follow, including one guy who dove into detail about why he writes. He’s been writing since May and is considered an avid blogger. As he poured it out on the page, his reasoning was sound and his methodology was solid. This is a guy who writes because it truly makes him happy, but even more than that, it is quite literally who he is.

So I sat there, sipping my coffee, considering for a moment why I write. I started thinking about the years I have spent putting my thoughts down. For a long time, I kept those words very private and then slowly I started sharing my thoughts.

That release of words from my brain onto paper was nothing short of miraculous for me. It kept me sane when all I really wanted to do was scream. For the last several years I have posted most of my writings online, with the idea that maybe others could relate or possibly benefit from anything my rambling heart might say.

To some degree, writing is visceral. Instinctually I will grab a pen and paper and write based on something I heard or read. I do it because I feel it’s the right response to the questions and statements in my head. Sometimes all I really need is an opportunity to let those words get out of my brain and onto paper.

What’s always fascinated me is, once I get the words out they become more alive, like they could give life or take it away depending on who was reading them. Words are like that, in so much as they have the ability to create or destroy. We build up or tear down with our words and it makes no difference whether those words are spoken or written, they can have the same impact. Once I get them out of my head and onto paper I reveal their intent. This fact has helped me shape a lot of my most current works because I have become much more reflective of what I have to say.

Not once have I given any serious thought to a book, though. It seems I have enough content built up of a few choice topics that would allow me to consider such a venture, but I’m not sure I was built for such scrutiny. Once I post something online, I can advertise it’s there if I think the post was good, or I can leave it for others to find, knowing in my own sheepish way that the article may be offensive to some, or that it may be too specific for a broad range or readers.

It’s odd how writing can be so freeing at one moment, then create a certain amount of anxiety the next. It’s like my right hand has the pen but my left is chained to the desk. Regardless, I pray that when you read this you can envision the colloquial nature with which it was intended, knowing that I could very well have just told you all of this. At the end of the day, I am thankful for the chance, however, to share what’s been on my mind. It is truly, my escape.

Blog away

Blogging is many things to many people and over the years, it has become an exceptional tool aside from what it means specifically to each writer. As a writer, I have enjoyed blogging for many of those many reasons, including the opportunity to clear my head some days. Posting to my blog can be very refreshing, like finishing something productive and looking back on your work knowing the task is done and you won't have to do that again. So much of my motivation for writing over the years has been to get my thoughts onto paper, just to free up hard disk space in my brain, allowing me to think freely about other important, or inane, topics.

Lately I have found that I am writing less, taking notes less, journaling not at all and therefore not getting thoughts out of my head. This has created an issue, not unlike packing 40,000 people into a 30,000 seat stadium and expecting to pack in another 20,000. I attribute this latest writing block to the busy-ness of life, but ultimately it is just an excuse. It's certainly not for lack of desire, or for lack of content with which to write about. I have 2 kids after all and my blog could write itself with just the drama of a middle school girl. But what I need most is simply to sit and write. I know it's therapeutic and I understand the stress relief that accompanies writing, but those are not motivating factors. I have also written from the perspective of being angry and using my blog as a platform to vent my frustrations, which is in itself a form of stress relief but again, even with all that is going on in the world, even with the plethora of things to write about, I still lack the motivation to sit down on a regular basis.

So much has changed in the last several years and just the other day it caused me to pause and reflect. Ten years ago I was truly a different individual. I was married and was about to be a dad but I lacked any real maturity that age and experience brings. This last ten years has seen such monumental change that I'm not sure I could have predicted where I would be or what I am considering as I look just 5 years into the future.

When people talk about the formative years of a child they refer to a time when there is major growth in areas of physical, mental and emotional states. But not much is said regarding the formative years of an adult mind. The reason for that to me seems simple because as we grow we mature and as we age we hopefully become wise with time and experience. But the transition into adulthood seems to happen at age 18 and then magically we become adults. This is simply not true. Most 18 year-olds I know are hardly prepared to live on their own nor do they comprehend the world as a whole beyond their own street. I know there are exceptions but this is the rule. Most men and women spend 10-15 years transitioning into adulthood after they turn 18, which means that the formative years for an adult are between 18 and 33.

Instead of conquering that fact, we as a society expect our 18 year-olds to do things they are truly not ready for, like live on their own, fight for our country, become parents, manage the stresses of a job, pay bills and so on. I personally find it appalling that we as a society expect so much but help to prepare so little. Home Economics classes in high school are wonderful but they are merely a drop in a very large bucket. If every one of us had the opportunity to move away from home and attend college following high school, we might have learned independence, self government, discipline and many other traits necessary for life in this world. But sadly, the cost of higher education has kept many kids from having an experience like that.

As I reflect on my life during that time it was a tremendous opportunity for growth that I failed to grasp and manage. Looking back, those formative years of my adult life were laced with a rebellion of sorts. I didn't want to grow up but I wanted all the responsibility and respect I thought I deserved. My body may have graduated high school at 17 but my brain put the transmission in park for a few years. Only now do I feel as if I have come some sort of distance, able to track maturity as if on a graph, comprehending what it means to be an adult. It's not to say that up until now I wasn't an adult, but I certainly have struggled with moving past some sophomoric perspective in my mind.

I love to write. I love that I can come here and free these thoughts onto this space and then walk away. I can return anytime and revisit these thoughts and even add to them if I choose. Part of these past 10 years has been the ability to reflect on what is necessary for rational thought on a daily basis. Much of my faith has been grounded in the idea that I sit here and rationally believe that Jesus is my savior. I don't question that. But 10 years ago I had no idea what that meant. Age has made a difference, as has experience, but nothing can replace the simple truth that the brain needs to proceed through formative times of learning and I have certainly enjoyed that last 10 years more than any other time in my life.

injured reserved

When an athlete goes down to injury it is commonly referred to as injured reserve. The athlete in question can be placed there for any amount of time, but the plan is always that he/she will be back out playing just as soon as they are well enough to do so. Some injuries are more serious than others and require more healing and some injuries tend to be recurring. One wonders how many times a knee has to go out before questioning your line of work.

In any case of injury, the athlete is pulled away from the day to day training, discipline and schedule they had been apart of prior. To me, this seems the most disconcerting. I imagine the routine, the daily workouts and the collective effort and mostly, the psychological stresses involved in maintaining a players form. If you were a train and the engine stopped working you could coast for a very long time, provided you didn’t apply the brakes. Your performance would be greatly hindered obviously, but you would still be moving. We could simply call that analogy, age. But when you’ve been seriously injured and can no longer compete and/or function in your sport or line of work, you come to a complete stop. Instantly. No brakes, no coasting, no runaway truck ramp, nothing.

Plain and simple, injuries really stink. Not only is there some level of pain involved, regardless of any medications, but if you were humming along and you were actually enjoying whatever it was you were doing, forget that. I am convinced that joy exits the body when pain enters it. The two pass each other in the hall and pain just points and laughs. It’s not pretty.

Adding insult to injury is attempting to better your mood during a season of injury. It’s like trying to bowl with a 40 pound ball with one finger….and that one finger is your thumb. I suppose it’s possible, provided you have really strong thumbs, but it won’t be easy, it’s probably going to hurt and there’s a chance you are going to look a little silly.

It has been determined that I do not handle injuries well. In fact, I become quite the grump. I have been fortunate in that I am rarely injured, but when it happens it’s usually a real doozy. I am hopeful that I will not be out of the proverbial game for long but as it stands right now, I at least owe my wife a get well card, maybe even some flowers.

Beyond the interruption, the pain and the inconvenience however, is this lingering notion that maybe I’m supposed to see or hear something else, now that I’m not moving so fast. That idea seems plausible, so I’m keeping my ear to the ground. Of course, part of the reason my ear is down there is because I’ve had trouble walking. Fortunately, I have strong thumbs.

Searching

Am I really just looking for the next best thing or have I already found it and don't know what I'm looking at?

The more I look around, the more I realize that most everyone around me is doing the same thing. Sounds corny but hear me out.

I'm not really lacking anything mind you, I am fortunate and blessed, but there's always something missing. Whether it's a solid friendship or maybe just the best chip, I'm always on the hunt.

My life is very full of things to do but it seems more like a packed schedule and less like a life with a mission. I contribute to a blog, I write a rotating column for the local paper, I'm on Facebook and Twitter and in all that, I am heavily involved in my community. I don't hide behind a curtain, the world knows me and I am always available.

And yet, I can't help but wonder if maybe it's time to just scratch it all and start over, to some degree at least. I suppose this merely sounds like a rut, and possibly it is, time may tell soon. I care so much about so many things but something has to give because I can tell, the time is now.

I'll figure some of this out on my own but collaborative community is what this world should really be about; coming together to make ourselves better for the benefit of those around us.