A Creeping Void

A Creeping Void

The beauty of the human condition is its depth to experience emotional extremes.  Uninhibited emotions are rare and exotic; often times only captured abrupt response or long-thought intentionality.  (True love’s first kiss. Caught in adultery) There is as much to learn in sincere love, as there is in genuine hatred. Life is wildly abundant in both. Laughs. Tears. Embrace. Fury. 

But there is also a creeping void.

Its inception is too subtle to make note – as though it existed before the feeling, the thought, the first utterance. Not birthed of you or of your partner, but, nonetheless, present.  Idly it waited, shrouded by unadulterated love and passion. Silent still, the first time words of malice left their lips.

The void is patient and ever consuming.

Acts of love are forgotten. Fault, deceit, and contempt take the stage – puppets at the hand of hatred. He captures the audience of two. Blurry, tear-filled eyes perceive only shadows and starry lights. Scenes play on. You have no control. You open your mouth, only capable of vomiting pointed repugnance.  A feeling too severe. “Anything would be better…”

The void knocks. It offers nothing.

Nostalgia is replaced with emptiness. The strange becomes a soothing shelter.  The common is uncomfortable and distant.  A once vibrant emotional spectrum is numb.  That’s when it happens.  When what were once external dialogues become internal monologues. There is only one solution.

The void has crept in.

It reads like telegraph.  Mundane. Monotonous. Sound. Words? Maybe. Uncertainty? Always. They stumble out of your mouth like reading ingredients on the back of the box of cereal. Disjointed. Incongruous. Misunderstood. There is no life here. No love. No Hatred. Just a void.

The void took it – neither joyous nor depressed. Never to be felt again.  It creeps on.

Life, Death, and the Stuff in the Middle

I wasn’t there the day my grandpa died. So I couldn’t tell you the look on his face. If I knew him like I think I did, his eyebrows were probably slightly raised and he wore a small grin. It was a famous look really. If you knew him a day in your life you would know the face. Whether he was telling you a fish story or a story while fishing, you hung on every word – true as true can be – but always waiting for those eyebrows to go up and that grin to shine through to know if you had been duped.

I guess anyone with the nickname “Whit” oghtobe pretty good at holding your attention and even better at making you laugh. I can promise you he was both. For as far back as I can remember he was there. Teaching. Laughing. Discovering and Loving. I could tell you stories of his stories that would have you on the edge of your seat. Whether he was chancing death on his Harley “Skull Crusher,” flying high above the clouds, or teaching me how to love and treat a family, the story was good but the lesson was even better.

To say that he was a “good man” is to sell him short and to show undeserving honor to some who would be given the same title. To say that he was a “great man” begs the questions Why? After all, the why is the most important. In this case, the why defining the “great man” could be written from many different perspectives – a father, a son, a husband, a friend, a comrade etc. I write as his grandson.

The why is often overlooked or undervalued especially in a time when so many emotions cloud pure reflection. The why is the details of “great.” The why paints the picture of “great” one stroke at a time. We can all marvel at the complexity of a Van Gough or the mastery of The David and get a sense of its message. But the grandeur of it all came one thoughtful stroke after another – a true thing of beauty. This is where life happens. This is where “great men” are defined.

My grandpa’s masterpiece is filled with color. The why of his life is passionately played out on his canvass. It’s an intricate and beautiful story themed in love, kindness, passion, bravery, and adventure. The strokes are very familiar to my own. What would be the point of knowing and loving a great man if you did not attempt to emulate his greatness. I consider myself lucky to have lived so close to the strokes of my grandpa’s life. It has given me a better understanding of who I want to be and WHY.

I wasn’t there the day my grandpa died. . . but I was there when he lived!

There are few in life who can stand proud knowing that in death we are judged by how we lived, and even fewer still who are wise enough to kneel. Be wise. Kneel before your God in life so that you may have the chance to kneel before him in death.

Life??? WTF?

Today I did two things I haven't done in a while. The first is blog. And the second is seriously evaluate my life circumstances financially. The first is probably more of a result of the second than anything. Sometimes you just gotta write stuff down so you can visualize just how shitty it is.

Now I would like to start and end on a good note leaving the shit to permeate somewhere in the middle. I once heard a very smart man tell me "If you are served a shit appetizer you should eat it, because if you don't it is going to come back as a shit entrée and then a shit dessert."

I have been dealt a pretty good hand since birth. Good home. Potential. Great family. It wasn't all peaches and creme with a silver spoon, but we did have spoons... Even recently, I have altered my perspective on life that I haven't fully realized yet. I live in one of the most appealing cities in southern california, great roommates, a job, and my own bed (ahh the small things). Without further review, I'm tops. Unfortunately today, I further reviewed. . .

If it was only my long hours at work, the seemingly insurmountable workload, the commute, and the lack of accountability from my employees when I get there, I would still be walking around with a chipper step.

On top of that, if it was only the double (sometimes triple) taxation (that our ancestors fought a bloody bloody war over), the greedy system (failures set back on their feet with our double and triple taxed funds), or my student loans (that are the bane of my existence, an 'existence' I wouldn't have if I didn't do the responsible thing and go to college), I would still be walking with my shoulders back and my head up.

Instead, it is that combined with everyone telling me "That is just how it is" or "That's life." I find it hard for me to believe that God put me on this earth to hide from His sunshine and spend the better portion of my waking life working for, pursuing, and obtaining things I don't need.

To live in dreams unrealized is to die every day a new.

But these dreams are in us for a reason. I believe this now more than ever. Not something we looking at like a shadow of a mirage, but something that we are intended to set our gaze upon and wildly pursue. Don't wake up every day and say to yourself "I am who I am," but instead, assure yourself that you are not who you will be.

The only shit appetizer I am going to eat is the one that I ordered.

The Good things in Life

Frozen yogurt is a decisive person's paradise. When someone says, "We are going to get froyo, are you in?" I don't know what happens to you but my eyes light up like the first time I went to Disneyland. Stepping in through the glass doors is a nostalgic experience. Do I run straight to the all familiar, but always exciting, space mountain or do I satisfy all of my senses with the titillating Indiana Jones (I kid you not, every time I see that boulder coming straight for us, for a brief second, I panic and truly wonder how we will escape)? You see, I could easily grab the biggest cup and fill it to the brim with blueberry and strawberry and call myself content, but what about the side of me that wants to explore?

I am a decisive person, so in this frozen land of indecision (for most) I should be thankful that I know what I want. What do I want you ask? Simple: blueberry, strawberry, pomegranate, with fresh bananas, strawberries and never . . . NEVER without gummy bears. Most people hate gummy bears in their frozen yogurt, "they get hard and you have to chew them to soften them up" they say. To that. . . I completely agree! What in life is worth enjoying if it doesn't provide some resistance to the norm right? But then you must always consider what you have passed up . . . space mountain is an everyday thrill!

So I encourage those who are indecisive to pursue what you want -- even if that means mango mango with chocolate cheese cake and lima beans on top -- never settle for anything less. For all, I say every now and then step out of what you know and what is comfortable and go on an adventure of flavor. Life is flavorful.

A Poem . . .

I was in Philadelphia recently sitting outside of a cafe with some friends. We weren't talking really. We were all writing of our current adventures or reading a good book. As the conversation broke the concentration we started to talk about what God wanted for our lives and how that would look in the lives of recent grads who have no money, no direction, but all the passion in the world. Love God and love others. It is pretty simple we concluded, but where? ( We are already certain that we know with whom that is why God crossed our paths) Where is a difficult question that is easily overlooked. We can do the work of God anywhere, but there are some places that have more work to be done for it to be a reflection of the Kingdom. Never was it more evident than walking the streets of Philly and seeing the sin that has become commonplace and acceptable. That is when Ricky read this poem. . . I guess a blog shouldn't be me forwarding on the words of a wiser man, but I can't really describe it better than this. I can feel it though and these words give that feeling a new dimension. I hope that you are encouraged by this as much as I am.

Obedience

By George MacDonald (1824-1905)

I said: "Let me walk in the fields."
He said: "No, walk in the town."
I said: "There are no flowers there."
He said: "No flowers, but a crown."

I said: "But the skies are black;
There is nothing but noise and din."
And He wept as He sent me back -
"There is more," He said; "there is sin."

I said: "But the air is thick,
And fogs are veiling the sun."
He answered: "Yet souls are sick,
And souls in the dark undone!"

I said: "I shall miss the light,
And friends will miss me, they say."
He answered: "Choose tonight
If I am to miss you or they."

I pleaded for time to be given.
He said: "Is it hard to decide?
It will not seem so hard in heaven
To have followed the steps of your Guide."

I cast one look at the fields,
Then set my face to the town;
He said, "My child, do you yield?
Will you leave the flowers for the crown?"

Then into His hand went mine;
And into my heart came He;
And I walk in a light divine,
The path I had feared to see.

My First Blog

I guess this is a time for a lot of firsts for me. I am currently sitting on a bus that is headed to New York City. This will be a first for me, as were many of the things that happened over the last ten days. Most people are uncomfortable with firsts. Often times firsts can evoke a dusty emotion that we suppress deep down in some alley way in our souls. If I am honest will myself I can easily say that firsts can be both so good and so bad. The first time I held a girl's hand, so good. The first time she broke my heart, well . . . so bad. I have experienced a lot of firsts in my day. Everything from breaking a bone, to tasting my first birthday cake. I have jumped off the third highest bungee in the world, I have gone caving in Budapest and canyoning in Switzerland, I have eaten a scorpion in China and spear-fished in Japan, I have known life to be beautiful and have become painfully aware of its injustice. Through all of this, good and bad, I love firsts. They are constant reminder this beautiful, dynamic journey we call life. I encourage you to seek some firsts today because I can promise you that you never remember them like your first.

Be a voice, not an echo