Blank For Truth

...

2010-12-03T15:41:00.000-08:00

'The earth I tread on is not a dead, inert mass. It is a body-has a spirit-is organic-and fluid to the influence of its spirit-and to what ever particle of that spirit is in me"--Henry David Thoreau

Dayzed and Confuzed

2010-11-08T18:32:00.000-08:00

I don't know what to make of all this.

In an instant I feel as if all my work last week has come crashing. I know not what I want. I miss the old. And have no idea for the future. I desire for circumstance to return as it once was. I know that I am not here. I can't be. To invest again would be too hard. When I am honest with myself all I want is to run in the the seclusion of the hills. I don't feel alive. This depresses me. Rightly so. I know that community and others love is essential to healthy living. But due to not feeling or giving any, I feel alone. I am bored. I do not want instant gratification. I look into offers of religion for guidance and grace. And when I breathe I feel peace. When I look at trees in the wind, I feel grace. I acknowledge a Greatness. I acknowledge a Presence. I acknowledge I am Lost. Searching. Growing. Finding. Alone. Happy. Sad. Stuck. Moving. Hoping. Rekindling a Faith I once found answers. I need to forgive Myself. I need to let go. I need to run free. Go. Do. Be. To believe in: Myself. Others. God. Hope.

On the Wind

2010-11-01T18:04:00.001-07:00

.my heart desires it so.

.to float away.

.on the wind.

.feel the cool breeze.

.living and dying.

G.rand R.estless E.xhaustion

2010-09-30T14:59:00.000-07:00

I find that I am in a wretched funk.

I do not feel myself.

I am drained. Tired. Exhausted.

I know not what I want.

Plaid

2010-09-02T20:42:00.000-07:00

tonight is the first night i wore my coat. it is a plaid sucker.

insignificant yet invigorating. The cold mixed with the freshness of small hints of fall makes this time fill with excitement. I'm ready.

Bring it on you coldness you.

The Hot Sun

2010-08-22T16:44:00.000-07:00

The Hot Sun will cool. The stars will offer light. And the air breathed deep into your lungs will invigorate your being. Sing the song loud within your soul. Feel it rising and feel it freeing. Live. Stretch. Reach and Rejoice. Life is Good. God is Good. Time's mysterious healing will calm like a breeze floating across the ocean's shore. Look for the Light in darkness--and be enlightened by It's brightness.

June 2, 2010

2010-06-02T18:59:00.001-07:00

Kansas City is my home for the summer.

No mountains. No dry air. No 10,500 foot vistas. No Ponderosa Pines. No endless stars in a visible sky.

I am in the midst of a metropolitan area which is vibrant of life, vibrant of activity, vibrant of movement. There is no stillness to listen to the wind. There are minimal movements in which wildlife acts and surrenders to total freedom. Birds act as birds would in the deep deep wood, without any regard for the car parked on the street ten feet from where the chirp.

The seemingly nieve act of existing and operating in total confidence of being free makes one deceives oneself in the cage that we lock outside of us. This cage being: Bricks. Cars. Obligations. Duties. Relations. Ignorance.

Total freedom comes with: Exploration. Wonder. Hope. And, hopefully, in the end: discovery.

--This is with both the tangible world, and within ones self--

But, might you say, the cage lead us to discovery? And in this cage, might we find the tools, the instruments, the knowledge to unlock the cage to let us free. Might both just be in harmony with one another?

I would hope so. For, if not, whats the point of even existing inside this cage?

Wildfire

2010-04-27T19:56:00.001-07:00

I don't know when things became as they are. I walked outside, looked at the moonlight. When I returned inside my bed was disheveled and my heart torn. I heard melodies of the night: dark, mysterious, lively. They matched the sounds in my dreams.

Embodied by beauty is the love of a Man for a Woman. When the Man doesn't see the Woman, their love still exists. It it exists in hope, purity, and wilderness. Wild like a fire, deep with rage and uncontrollable. No amount of liquid can erase it's passion.

untitled with a title

2010-04-10T10:29:00.000-07:00

Being continuously occupied with ways to entertain our fickle existence seems never to cease. We meander and derive meaning in ways that are void of any sustenance. While learning to love we discover life. Life blinds us in our own living. The daily lives we live are only a fragment of reality. Reality is waking. It is sleeping. Breathing. Dying. Loving.

What is the meaning of the various colors in the advertisements that so blinding envelops our sights? Why must we be forced to accept only tangible, material, and fleeting instances in time?

I have this fantastic laptop that allows me to transcribe these words from my head to the screen. I have music playing through headphones as to drown out the reality that is existing outside of me. ---How come?

When in the course of human existence did we progress to where we are today? When human civilization evolved we did not anticipate- lo! Even desire-- ipods, cellphones, big macs…we evolved to work together, and to grow together.

When was it acceptable to exploit the needs of someone with less money than you…Aren’t they your brother or sister too!?! Their heart beats the same as does mine. In any circumstance, in any course in human interaction, there our two hearts. Two beating human hearts. There is not a heart with more money. There is not one heart that is more ‘successful,’—(what does that even mean)—there is not one heart that has the permission to belittle the other heart. No, there can’t be. There is blood flowing through ventricles to power the vehicle of our being---our whole entire being—and their hearts are beating. Galump. Galump. Galump.

There really is not a point to these writings other than voice. A voice that needs to be heard, cultivated, and reasoned with. That is my aim with rekindling this love---the love of thought expression, articulation (an attempt at least), and transference of ideas.

.Grow.

transistion

2009-11-17T14:51:00.000-08:00

I am in a season of life that is tremendously and utterly unfamiliar to me.

A month from tomorrow I walk across a make-shift stage, receive a mock piece of paper (the real one is apparently mailed to me), and sit in a black grim reaper robe. A month from tomorrow I graduate. It is not my aim in this post to be one of those 'freaking out graduates with no idea of what there going to do...' I am simply going to try and write what it is I feel with regards to this transition.

At first glance I know that I am going to miss the structure of school. I am going to miss the routine of it. I will miss the way it seemingly controls the structure of my life. I am a student. I have been a student for sixteen years of my life. And in one quick, yet monumental walk, I am going to no longer be a student, in the University sense of the word.

And with this notion mentioned above, to fill the void of School, I will rely, at least its 'what I'm supposed to do"--is find a job. I am currently employed however would like to find a more lucrative job. And finding this lucrative job is another looming obstacle.

My roommate has been in the job search for over a month and nothing is panning out for him. This has not helped to encourage me.

In these months in Kansas City I will hopefully grow in a way that challenges me and makes me become more comfortable. I will be able to invest in people and relationships more diligently and intentionally. I am hopeful in cultivating a plan that allows me to grow, to see the world, to explore, and to reach.

Its been quite a ride though.

Frost

2009-10-10T19:39:00.001-07:00

its a cold october.

this awakens me.

not only to living, but to recognizing. I recognize the beauty that is in front of me. I recognize simplicity in quiet moments. And I recognize that I can't survive without help from another.

when my breath becomes visible i recognize its beauty, for i am living.

gone

2009-04-05T14:00:00.001-07:00

a week ago tonight my house caught fire.
--

i awoke to what sounded like an explosion from the basement. i rushed around to the stairs to the basement saw a fireball engulfing what seemed to be the hot-water tank. Without further investigation, and a rise in alertness and adrenaline I awoke my roommate sleeping on the couch saying with much passion, "where on fire!"--as he jumped from the couch i ran to grab my phone, dialed 911, and within seven minutes eight fire trucks found their momentary home on our street.

--

it is extremely difficult to try and describe the amount of smoke that was billowing out of the house. the firemen had to brake windows in order for the smoke to escape faster. from the sound of glass being busted, to the sirens of the tanks of water, to the dogs barking in the distance, the whole moment and event seemed dream-like. it was cold. i wasn't wearing much. i had my cowboy boots on. i had pajama pants and a long shirt on. i was very cold.

standing there at my neighbors house, my roommate by my side, staring at my house and not fully knowing what was going on inside was absolutely amazing. amazing is the best word i can think of to describe such an event for the fact that it was just that, amazing.

this is the house where i found independence. this is the house where relationships were built. this is the house where music was created. this is where meals were shared. this is were moments and memories are irreplaceable. it was home. it was a place of comfort. a place of relaxation..a place of love. it will be incredibly difficult to find the amount of love and community that that house cultivated and possessed. it was a magical piece of property--the ground on which it stood will have memories that permeate the soil and dig down to the depths of the earth. much like the memories that are forever engraved into the depths of my and my roommates souls.

it was home.

my heart is still there.
--

the actual fire was contained and put out in the basement--where it had started. the damage that was done to the house was done by the fires' furious by-product: smoke. the smoke damage to the house itself, in vehicular terms, totaled it. the damage done by the smoke to my own property, as well to my roommates, was an absolute mess. smoke clung to the edges or everything. my clothes, the fourth of the wardrobe that is left, and after being washed nearly five times, still smells of sulfur. my computer and its' hardrive will forever be locked away in a grave of smoke. my guitar, the one on which i played my first song, the one that has traveled to the mountains with me, has found a companion: a layer of soot and smoke makes it completely and dishearteningly unplayable. and my books--the only collection of anything i owned--are still readable, however they have a stench, and the same soot that makes them undesirable to even hold in my hands.

--

despite the material life that was lost. i am fine. this past week has been a bit of a whirlwind--slowly settling down however.

i am still putting out the fire....

--

will

2009-03-17T20:03:00.001-07:00

when the night becomes still
there you will be

when the day breaks away from it all
there you will be

in the darkness of sleep
there you will be

when its all gone
there you will be

Diggin

2009-02-18T14:44:00.000-08:00

Being religious is silly.

Before you freak out and start defending what you feel like needs to be defended let me expand my simple little comment.

How personal can something be when others are around you prescribing or enhancing how it should feel? It seems a bit arbitrary if you ask me.

Now I grant that the idea and sense of community is a thing to be desired, but it also helps keep up the wall of facade. To act in community with one another can force someone not to actually dig inside oneself.

One may say, that I miss the fact that others can encourage one to keep looking inside oneself to 'figure it out'--but if that's the case, doesn't it sometime seem that the person doing the seeking will inevitably try to emulate the one dispensing the 'guidance...'--again, not really digging within oneself.

I guess it is easier to be religious once a week than dig everyday...maybe I'll start partaking in the fun.

immediacy

2009-02-16T19:06:00.000-08:00

-
tired
-
eyes heavy
-
heart slow to beat
-
arms reaching
-
feet firm
-
waiting
-
in need of rest.
-

A Night Alive

2009-01-26T21:57:00.001-08:00

before i crawl and nestle my way into the sheets in which i sleep, i want to say that i am lonely.

i am lonely not for a single person, not for a single thing, but just lonely. it's not depressing. it is not an uncomforting feeling, it is just, i guess, a certain vulnerability that i wish i was not exposed to.

i live in a house with four others. none of them are home, or, for that matter will probably sleep here tonight. this will make two out of the last three nights. at first glance, i find this to be a cause for great jubilation. however, there is a quiet comfort in knowing someone else is in my house along with me. tonight, that quiet comfort is disrupted by the clanking and monstrous sound of the furness. the wind slapping its cold frigid air against my window. and the rhythm of the cars and the music their horns as they pass on the street below.

despite being alone, i am very much surrounded.

A Brief Minute

2008-12-03T17:47:00.000-08:00

good evening december.
i can see my breath.
why are you so cold?
indeed.you have made me cognizant of living.

and for that i am gracious.

Grounded

2008-11-25T10:43:00.000-08:00

It is beautiful morning. I find myself in Texas, which granted isn't my favorite place to find myself in, but nevertheless I'm here and it is a beautiful morning.

One thing that has been on my mind lately is that I don't think we ever truly know where we are. Before you jump in and say, " I'm right here, you're right there.." let me say inquisitively, where is that?

For instance, like I said at the very beginning of this entry I find myself in Texas--but I only 'know' I am in Texas because this place has been labeled as Texas. This place as been designated as Texas, and where I regularly live is designated as Kansas City, but am I really where I think I am?

And my point of reference relies on what I see on a Map...but what if the map is wrong or not fully accurate? What if there were no maps to know where we are? What if all maps and points of reference were destroyed?

It is easy to ask 'what ifs' because we never really will know the answers until they arise.

--
Granted that this thought is somewhat incoherent and a bit of a stretch I follow it with this thought:

What I do know is that:
I find my feet on the ground, wherever that ground may be.
I find my eyes open to the sights that lie in front of me, whatever those sights may be.
I find my ears open to the sounds that engulf them.
I find my arms reaching for what is within and out of my reach.
I find my heart beating for the sake of life and living.
I find that I am where I am.
--
I am where I am.

You are where You are.

We're grounded atop the same earth, therefore connected.

Our hearts beat and the congruence of the rhythm brings life to our lives.
----

Connection

2008-09-23T18:50:00.000-07:00

Let me begin by saying hello.

It has been a decent amount of time since the last entry. I hope this one seems redeemable for my absence.

I was lost in the New Mexico mountains for the rest of July and most of August. I found myself waking up in a tent, next to a stream, in the mountains. It was a nice little life. It was full of music, beauty, friends, and peace.

There is something calming about how I lived this summer. I found it to be quite quiet. When you are invested in the mountains and in the peace of the moment, you tend to be quiet. You are taken out of the noisy, disrupting, disturbing, and somewhat obnoxious environment that I now find myself in, and probably the environment that you find yourself in. The mountains force you to be still. I think it is because you truly can't get displaced in them if you don't allow yourself to feel your feet on the ground, and have your soul mesh with the coolness of the air. You feel connected. And the connectedness can't really be put into words, but you feel alive and real.

I have now been home for a month and the connectedness that I was feeling is somewhat depleting due to the fact that my environment is not one of peace and stillness, but one of tests, reading, worrying, business--not to mention there are no mountains. I still have a glimmer of connection to whatever it was that I felt connected to--I just need to try harder. As I think we all do.

We all need to try harder to feel connected. Whether it be to a God, the people who surround your life, or the city or town in which you live, we all need to give a little more of ourselves when it comes to feeling connected. And I don't mean that pansy bullshit connection you might feel when you think someone likes you, or someone opens a door for you...i mean the type of connection in which it digs at the depth of your being and you have no other option than to truly feel alive. It is almost transcendent.

For me I find this connection and living:
-In quiet. I find this in being still and soaking up the world around me.
-In music: whether it being playing or listening--when you feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach that kind of churns inside of you, you know you are alive.
-In good conversation: A conversation that goes deep and is not afraid to push limits make you come alive.
-Walking barefoot.
-In deep thinking: testing ones own concepts and perception of the world makes one figure out what one truly might believe.

But as I said: it is hard. It could even be said as impossible. But we have to try.

I think not to try means not to truly live. Because maybe, just maybe, someday an experience like this may happen: everything seems connected. It all seems together, it seems real, it is alive, you are alive.

.we have to try.
.don't settle.
.come alive.
.i'm trying even though it seems so improbable.

--------------

Majesty

2008-07-08T18:10:00.000-07:00

Still thinking and processing my overall opinion on Christianity and what I believe. I still hold my skeptisism and hesitation twards it all. But, I also know that there is a calming of my soul due to the overall majesty of the mountains. A majesty that can only be brought on by a higher force. all I can say is Thank You.

This summer is going well.

We're Here

2008-05-29T06:58:00.000-07:00

After 10 months in waiting, after 10 months of schooling and work, after 10 months of anxious patience: I made it. I am here in New Mexico ready to experience the magic of the mountains.

This arrival was preceeded by a roaring roadtrip along highway 50 of Colorado. With a wonderful companion to accompany this journey, we climbed to the heights of 12,000 ft. And wound around corners only to be awed by the beauty that lay before us. Staying two nights in a must visit town of Telluride, the adventure continued. And finally, being four places at once by standing on the Four Corners Monuement was a perfect capstone to a more than perfect trip.

Now we are here. In the mountains of New Mexico awaiting the magic.

No End In Sight

2008-04-12T09:43:00.000-07:00

There is really no good reason for me to be writing except for the fact that my body feels so tense and frustrated that I needed a resource to calm myself down. And this is the one that is the most feasible.

I will not go into reasons for why I feel tense. I will just write a minute and then calm down. At least that is what I am counting on.

It is snowing today. In Kansas City. On April 12, 2008. Can we just soak that in please. On April 12th snow is falling from the sky. I heard something this past week that when all of the seasons bleed into one, then the Apocalypse is near. Lets hope that whoever made that claim is not correct. I am not looking forward to the ending right now. After I have lived a full and content life, then I will be ready to sleep indefinitely.

Something got me thinking yesterday. I was watching a very powerful movie called Babel. I recommend it, however I caution you that it will leave you in silence and contempt..so do not watch it if you are in a peppy and overly happy mood. Anyway.

In short the movie has three different stories going on, in which you find that they are all interconnected. The three stories are cross cultural and depict different ways of life in different societies and cultures. On is a middle eastern goat herder. The other is a Japanese girl who is searching for a lover. And the third is a Hispanic child care provider for a family that is traveling.

And my main point is this: We, as a human, global society at large, occupy our lives by filling them up with things that are momentary and occupy our boredom. Isn't that why we have jobs--to occupy boredom. We make the money we receive from our jobs to pay for things that we think will provide happiness and relief from boredom.

We are trapped. Us living in this age are trapped by previous ways of societies and cultures past. We are still living the system that was set up ages ago to alleviate our boredom. We are encouraged by society to have jobs in order to provide money (which is a system and idea constructed by man) and we are told that the more money we have, the more happy we will be.

My guess is that man in his most primitive state--whenever man came to rule over the land did not want to climb the latter of corporate success. My guess is that he did not belittle the ones who were weaker. My guess is that all the other primates worked together in a way that would benefit the whole of the group. They did not care about personal gain or personal hierarchy. They were surviving. They needed each other to survive. And now I think the mentality is we think we just need ourselves to survive.

If we try to break away from this trap we find alone, discredited, and abandoned by a majority of society. We find ourselves to be the outcasts.

Why did things become this way? We accept it all so blindly. We accept it without question. We accept it without caring. In a way, I wish I didn't care so I could just live as everyone else does, but something does not sit well with my soul if I were to do that.

I can write about it on this blog, but how can I change my lifestyle to reflect what I am saying? How can I be more than just another writer raising questions about how things came to be? There's not an answer.

Maybe just the awareness of knowing and acknowledging that we are trapped is a start.
---

Freedom And Fear

2008-04-05T09:32:00.000-07:00

In less than a month I will be done with my third year of Higher Education.
In less than two months I will be in the Mountains of New Mexico.
And today. I am content.

It is so interesting to me how the changing of seasons contribute drastically to mood and outlook. The way souls are overjoyed when the sun is shining, or the way the mood changes to inquisitive on a dark and cloudy day.

As spring is trying to nudge its way into our lives, we find that it could not come at a better time. It has been a long winter, and I think that a majority of persons are ready to have the freshness of spring invigorate their souls.
--

All of us claim to be free. We all claim that we have freedom, and we can exercise it anyway we desire. However, I am finding out that that claim is somewhat untrue. There have been numerous times in which a certain underlying and driving force constructs us not to exercise our freedom. And I'm not talking about a God like figure. I think what I am talking about is culture, and how unseemly in has absolute control of our lives without our recognition.

When we have desires just to go. Desires to go somewhere by our lonesome, or with a companion, we find all sorts of reasons to pile up, for us not to go. How come I find myself when walking to Spanish, and really not desiring to go, still going? I am free enough too chose the opposite. I am free if I wish to not go to class or work or other obligations and to do what I desire, as in take a drive. Or play music. What is it that restricts certain freedoms.

I guess that my answer is fear.

Fear from a failing grade, which leads to failure to graduate, which leads to failure to find a successful job, which leads to failure of cultivating a great life---all of this according to society of course. Our freedom is shadowed by fear.

Which leads me back to my original point.

How can we truly exercise our freedom that we claim we have?

The best answer that I can muster up is I just don't know, which is probably the answer of many, which inevitably appears to let fear win.
--

Now

2008-03-17T18:02:00.000-07:00

"...Happiness comes to us like a beautiful dream that we don't dare to interpret..."

A Shedding

2008-02-15T14:56:00.000-08:00

It may not seem like a monumentous event to strip your car of bumper stickers. However, I would like to say it is.

My car has been plastered with Bumper Stickers for practically the past two years. As of 4:30 this afternoon I had 9 Bumper Stickers on the back and rear sides of my SUV. As of right now, at 5:02, I have one. And it is prominetley displayed in the center of my back windshield.

It was liberating dismantling those stickers. I was shedding off labels, stereotypes, and 'groups,' which I had belonged to for so long. I was stripping off an image that is automatically assumed when seeing the BS that I had on my car for so long.

The BS that I had on my car was the following, each one read:

-"EARTH"
-"Who Would Jesus Bomb?"
-"The Meaning Of Life Is To Live It"
-"Copeland: Eat. Sleep. Repeat."
-"Mountain Music Shoppe"
-The Apple Logo For Ipods
-"Philmont Scout Ranch"
-"USGA"
-The Little ICTHUS Jesus Fish Thing
-"Goodson Motor Sales"

So. That was my identity according to my car. I have stripped them off. I can start out anew. I now have my own identity without my car portraying one for me.

I should let you know though.

One replaced them all and it states:

"OBAMA 08"

---

Ready To Go.

Yesterday

2008-02-10T16:48:00.000-08:00

I have been finding out more and more that I am living the present in the future.

Many of my conversations and my dialogue with others has been consumed with thoughts of the future. Words that seem to be riddeld with undertones of not living in the present. We seem not to be content where we are. And when the future suddenly becomes the present we are so blinded with the prospect of the next future we miss the current and beautiful present. And this flusters me.

I do not know how to be content living in the here and now. I feel like I am self-aware, and that I can recognize my surroundings, however, I feel that recognition is not enough. I am waiting for that transendent moment when it all feels right. I am waiting for the emense feeling of being one-hundered and thirty-two percent content.

Future plans consume our current ambitions.

Now, don't get me wrong, it is nice to plan. It is nice to have an idea of what the future may hold for you. It is a securing feeling. It's nice to have direction. We all want direction.

What I am saying however, is I have been bombarded with how much I am finding that my interactions and rhetoric with others deals with the future. It is more a personal thing I guess. I am trying to become better living here, and now; not constructing a mindset that focuses on next week, next month, or even next year.
----

For today is today--and today is tomorrows yesterday. So eventually our life is full of 'yesterdays.'

Lets live today for what it is: Irreplacable.

----

Hope

2008-01-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

Sometimes there are indescribable feelings and experiences that overtake us. And it is such a paradox because we want to be able to describe our experience, we want to be able to exclaim the immense amount of pleasure or surrender that we experience. We want others to be part of our experience. The paradox is that we can't. We can't describe the indescribable...but we want to. We can't share the joy of what happened to us through words. We can't even act it out. It is our experience and feeling. Maybe that is the beauty of it all--that it is ours, and our only hope is that others have the same indescribable experiences and feelings. Maybe we all can relate by acknowledging the unknown, unrecognized realm of indescribable experiences.

I am going to attempt to describe an indescribable experience that I had two nights ago.

Two nights ago I finished a journal.

I know that may not seem to astounding or profound. But the feeling of actually completing a journal is a very sobering feeling. It is a deep feeling of accomplishment. It is also extremely depressing.

It feels as if you have lost a best friend to a terrible disease. It feels as if you are giving your favorite shirt that is riddled with nostalgia to charity. It feels hopelessly depressing--because you have a feeling of 'now what?' "now since I have lost this one to the poison of ink, what am I suppose to do now? Am I suppose to place it upon a book shelf and let it be another dust collector? Should I burn it? Should I let my friends read it? What should I do?'

What I did do was: I closed it. Looked at its swade khaki binding, took a deep breathe, and placed it in my bag. It seemed fitting.Then I went and purchased a new journal at Barnes and Noble to record the next months of this life. This life that never seems to be dull unless I let it be.

I started this journal back on June 6th while I was living in the mountains. I started this journal not knowing what the ending page would say. I started the journal with small, feeble anticipation that great things would occur during the time span of writing in it. I was in for a big surprise.

The last months of my life have been ones that have truly awakened me. Ones that have truly left me feeling the greatest uncomfort I have ever felt. They have been ones of true self discovery and peace. I can only hope that the next six provide as much excitement as the ones preceding.

I have hope that they will.

The Next Five

2008-01-14T15:46:00.000-08:00

A new semester is upon me. I am excited.

I have had a restful break. One that provided much rest, a little bit of money and anxiety for the next semester. Mainly the anxiety stems from the anticipation of taking another semester of Spanish. Nevertheless, my break was one that was full of familiar faces from years past, and that made it all worth enjoying.

As classes are beginning I like to think that I prepare myself. I always get in this mood that is ready. It is like, "I'm going to do it this semester. I am going to be organized. I am going to be motivated. I'm going to focus. I'm going to do great........." and then, I think we all know what happens....after about a month, that ambition slowly fades and is replaced by this: " I have so much going on....if I just do this, I should be fine....we'll see though........." It is interesting to me to think about how the ambition quickly fades and the mentality of settling surfaces.

Even though the prospect of losing ambition seems to be a fitting cast for the future, I would like to think that I really will start out this semester with passion and intent to do well. I am excited about the courses that I will be studying. I am excited about being back in school for the social aspect. And, pathetically enough, I am excited about the routine that school presents.
--

I am also excited for the prospect of the future semester: One that seems to be full of little travels here and there to Oklahoma, Florida, Southern Missouri, Texas, and Kansas. A semester that will maybe provide as much growth as the one previous. And a semester that hopefully displaces me more out of my box.
--
Oh. and in Five months I am returning to the Mountains.
--
Here's to Spring of 2008---

Cheers.

So Many Words

2007-12-29T07:49:00.000-08:00

There are moments when I just don't know what to write. It is one of the most defeating feelings one can experience, especially if you are ambitious about writing something. How come at times we are able to expand words and thoughts so easily, and other times that we have to reach from the depth of our souls and all we get is the word, 'the.'

It is beautiful to write something pure and real.

I am striving for that now, but failing miserably.

Suprised

2007-12-23T07:24:00.000-08:00

A week ago today I was swimming in the Pacific Ocean.

Let me say that again:

A week ago today (December 16th) I was swimming in the Pacific Ocean.

I went out to California last week. I went out there to visit friends, not be in Kansas, and to feel revived.

I didn't have too many expectations. I was expecting brown, dirty, and an overpopulated landscape. However, I was very pleasantly surprised. I enjoyed the hills, the beauty, and the ocean.

There is something to be said about the ocean. It is truly majestic. When standing on the beach, listing to the never ending rhythm of the waves crash to shore, and looking out and seeing no end; that is truly something to marvel.

We also went to Joshua Tree National Park, and it was so eerily beautiful. I absolutely loved it. I recommend it to anyone who loves to be in an over sized bouldering field. For me it was an over sized candy store, and each boulder was a new counter with new candy, that I wanted to consume.

Words do not do this Park justice. It was seriously incredible.

The group that I was with took about a mile hike to this remote bouldering field, and when we got there I remember feeling so small. Standing on top of boulder, and just looking around seeing no cars, roads, buildings, other people, and really any sings of civilized life. I felt small. I felt wonderfully uncomfortable, I felt alive.

We forget how much space there is out there. We confine ourselves in this little box of life, and succumb to it's ebbs and flows. We enjoy this box. But when we are displaced and when we experience the feeling of being small and feeble, then we truly come alive. Something deep within our being is unleashed, not really knowing what it is, but it awakens, and we can't control it. It wants to explore. It wants to be pushed to it's limits. It wants to run.

Those are some of the feelings I experienced while I stood atop a boulder and looked around seeing mountains, other boulders, and of course Joshua Trees. It was incredible. I felt so huge and my smile about stretched off me face. I was so huge, yet so small and feeble. Absolutely humbling.

My last night I was there I stayed up till 4 in the morning having one of the best conversations that I have had in a long while. My friend and I started talking about 12:30 or so. (That is nearly four hours of uninterrupted beautiful conversation.) My friend and I were asking each other tough questions that I have rarely thought about. The Q and A was really eye opening and refreshing, here are some of the questions:

What has been your happiest moment in you life? / Saddest?
What is something you are most proud of?
What is the stupidest thing you have done?
What is the worst thing someone could do to you?
Most embarrassing moment?
What are the things that drive you crazy?
What would you change about yourself?
What do you love about yourself?

And so forth....

I know that it probably reads like an interview, but I recommend having a conversation with someone and asking these questions, and other deep questions. It is really eye opening and quite profound. The best thing about it is that both me and the person conversing were real. We didn't hide. We were open. We were real.

At times there was uncomfort because of the answers we were coming to, but the uncomfort lead to peace because of how organic it all was. It was beautiful.
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Overall I am content.

It sure as hell doesn't feel like Christmas and I have yet to buy any gifts.

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I hope that the holiday is filled with love and peace.
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Cheers.

Snow

2007-12-06T08:48:00.001-08:00

There are few things that can match the amount of enjoyment I get when I see snow.

I love the snow.

Today is the first snow in Kansas City. It is a peaceful snow, and it lands gently on the ground. Such snow, makes me feel like I am in a snow globe without being violently shaken.

The snow falls helplessly and beautifully to its quiet landing. There is something majestic about the snow. How it descends with wonder, and how it seems to do it so elegantly.

Snow calms my soul and it invigorates my body.

Snow makes my face shine with a smile, and makes make heart grow full.

The way that it sounds when you compress your foot into it, is a sound that makes me feel like a child.

The snow reminds me of friends and family from years past, and gives me hope for wonderful memories for years to come.

Snow breaks me--it makes me find that child like heart inside of me, and then it brings it out. I am reminded of sledding. I am reminded of snowball fights. I remember the joy of returning to a warm, friendly house, after adventures in the snow. I am reminded of Hot chocolate. I am reminded.

I know that my fondness is not experienced by everyone, and that is perfectly alright. I just hope that you are able to be still, and soak in the majesty of it all.
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My Yard

2007-12-01T08:43:00.000-08:00

We are beginning the festivities. We are getting in the Spirit. And it is about that time.

Yesterday one of my roommates and I hung Christmas lights.

It's funny how the seasons can sneak up on you. Even if it doesn't feel like Christmas we buy into the ideas and rituals of it. Something that honestly doesn't really make sense to me. And since it doesn't make sense to me you could call me a hypocrite. Anyway, shouldn't you really feel and buy into something to celebrate it?

I think one reason why we enjoy these festive times is because they are fun. And that is what us humans strive for: fun. Many of our decisions are based on how much 'fun,' we will have. We are all seeking enjoyment and fulfillment--sometimes even mindlessly. We go along with it because it is apart of our routine.

We love routines. We get so comfortable in them. When we feel violated when they are broken or interrupted. When they are interrupted we feel as if it was a personal attack to get us out of swing. I think alot of it is just plain selfishness, and I for one am guilty of being selfish.
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A glimpse into my life:

Three nights ago I was doing homework and our doorbell rang. I opened it to find four ten-twelve year olds on our stoop. Two of them had rakes, and one of them had a shovel, the fourth was just standing there--he might have been the ring leader, I don't know. Anyway, I say 'hey' and ask them what they are up to. They tell me that, "they are raising money for football, and they were wondering if they could rake my yard..for a small donation..."..."of course I thought to myself."

I stood there and smiled, just because I can't help to mile in situations like these.

I tried to play it off that I really didn't need my yard raked, however guilt started to encapsulate me. I was reluctant to initiate anything, however I said, " alright guys, I tell you what. How about you get started, and I'll go in and get you a few bucks..." That got them excited. They started, and I walked inside.

I returned outside and saw their progress. It was looking good. I gave the 'ring leader' a ten dollar bill and said to them "do what you guys think is necessary and worthy of ten, because that's all I got."

They were grateful of my donation, and kept working.

I walked inside to finish my homework before my night class. Every so often, like a peeping tom, I looked through the blinds to make sure they were working...it looked good.

At about 5:45 I was getting ready for class. I gathered my books, and put on my Jacket, and opened up my front door. I walked out on the stoop, and stopped. I gazed upon my yard. There is a side walk down the center of it, that acts as a dividing line, that leads to our porch. Looking at the dividing line (sidewalk) I start to laugh out loud.

These money raising football players raked half my yard and then saw it fit to leave.

I have a beautifully raked side of our yard, and then the right side is a sea of leaves. It's pretty classy if you ask me.
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Last night my roommates and I watched Braveheart.

Enough said.
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I am ready for my semester to be over. It has been a good one, however, the prospect of it ending is a relief as I am sure it is for all college students. I enjoy school, but I also enjoy the breaks that are built in with the schooling process.
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I have been stretched and challenged this semester in ways I never thought possible. Things that I have believed in, in the past, have been deconstructed, and are slowly being resurfaced in new ways. This has been very unsettling. For as long as I can remember I believed in a certain faith system, and throughout this semester, I have realized that much of my 'belief,' was just a product of my up bringing. I have been conditioned in a way to believe it. And as uncomfortable and unsettling that these thoughts and realizations have been, I have felt liberated. I have felt free because I know that I am not lying to myself. I am not putting up with justifications. I am just being true and real to myself--and that has made me so damn uncomfortable, but it has also made feel so alive.
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"Every man dies, but not every man truly lives."
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Enjoy your December.

Comfortable

2007-11-14T19:04:00.000-08:00

When asked questions, or when we describe ourselves, we are rarely truthful. We are rarely honest. And we are rarely real. Especially when we meet someone new.

It seems that we build these walls around ourselves, only to tear off the walls layer by layer, day by day. We never let people see the real us at first meeting. It takes time to deconstruct our walls. Why is that?

Why do we think it is so necessary to not be open with people? For fear of being disregarded and made fun of? For the plain fear of rejection? Why?

Because, it is comfortable. It is comfortable when we are uncomfortable. We are comfortable behind our self created walls. We like their protection, and we fear their destruction. We like the warmth they give, and crave protection when we expose what is truly behind the walls.

But it is something beautiful to see what is truly behind the walls. When, in a relationship (intimate or a friendship) we tear off a layer, we find something beautiful. We find the truth. We find what is real, and that realness will either draw you in close to that person, or inevitably push you away.

After all the walls have crumbled and fallen, and you stand there this barren piece of rubble, then you are real--you are exposed, you are comfortable, and you are not lying to others and more importantly, to yourself. You and whoever is near you can marvel in the beautiful piles of rubble that you both are.

Drive

2007-11-08T18:59:00.000-08:00

I am in need of a drive.

I have just spent two hours studying Spanish. Now, that may not sound too bad, but trust me...it is. I just don't get it. I feel that there is nothing that I can do, to learn this fast and crazy language any more than I already am. This language frustrates me. It drives me crazy, and it makes me want to rip the little hairs from my head.

However, I am determined to learn this blasted language. Not to be fluent, but to be proficient. I enjoy making progress, and I get an overwhelming sense of accomplishment when I get something right in class. So despite the hell that I go through while learning it, I am determined and would like to persevere.

I can only hope that Spanish speakers get this frustrated when they are attempting to learn English.

We are even.

Anyway, back to driving.

There is something about driving that frees the soul. Maybe it is the feeling of going fast, maybe it is the feeling of having control over your final destination, maybe I enjoy driving because I can go wherever I would like. (You could place a contradiction in right here about rising gas prices, which inevitably would reduce excursions in the car.)

When I drive I get lost in my thoughts, maybe you do the same. I have experienced a strange feeling while driving before. It is the feeling that you get when you start thinking about something: the past, the future, girls, music, god; something occupies your mind. If the thought is intense enough you can become consumed by it, and then driving becomes so passive. In your deep intensive thought, that seems brief and fleeting, you look at the clock and realize that an hour has passed. Have you ever experienced that? I enjoy that feeling. I guess it is dangerous in a way though--becoming so passive that you neglect to acknowledge the fact that you are in charge of a 1000lb machine. Better watch out.

Luckily for me I will be driving tomorrow. Just a short trip, about two hours in length. However, that is more than enough time for my soul to feel rested, revitalized, and rekindled.

Here's to the open road.

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The Start

2007-11-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

I am hesitant to start a blog. I am hesitant for the fact that I am catorgorizing myself, I am subjecting myself to judgements and condemnations, and the ridicules of others. I know that ridicules could come from my incompitence on the spelling of words, or the usage of correct gramatical language. Despite my hesitation, I am also excited to start this internet diary. I will enjoy having somewhere to go and write--it will be a good venue to expand and relay thoughts. It will be a constructive place to share insights and meanderings.

I think that is what writing is: meanderings. In this path of life we constantly are meandering and searching for truth. Not fully knowing what that truth is and where we find it, we still search, and along this search we meander. And writing is a reflection of the meandering.

In the meandering we stumble upon things that bring you joy and things that bring you disappointment and sadness--however, you are still meandering, and still ambling.

Continue to meander.
Cheers.