Goodbye College, Hello Symphony of Change

Ahhhhhhh. It is with a sigh and a smile that I write this. What you see to your left is what I have been working towards for four and a half years, thats right, a Bachelors degree. Thanks to ASU my "official" graduation was delayed a bit, but, after repeatedly calling the administration office, I got them to correct their error and place a big "GRADUATED" stamp on my transcript...or whatever it is they do. Let me tell you, my mind cannot take in the scope of what college has meant to me, what I have done, what I have seen, what this time gone by means. I can remember vividly that first day of college at NAU, the fear, the excitement, the anticipation. Wow, what an era. So much changed, so much of my worldview was rocked, I feel so different than when I started, yet, oddly I still feel the same.


Oh, see the map to the left? I'm going there. Living there, in fact. About a week ago, as I was sitting in a property rights class visiting Pepperdine Law, I received an email stating that I has been awarded a Fulbright scholarship. Wow, right? Yeah, it rocked my world completely. I suppose it is in some ways fitting, the end of one era and the beginning of the next. I was just talking with my girlfriend the other day, saying that there is so little that is really holding me here. So little that I am tied down to. Other than my close family and her, I have no real reason to stick around. So, on July 7th, 2008, I will begin the 12 and a half month adventure that will take me across the world and back, eventually. A few specifics: I get two months off, from the end of December until the end of February. I am only allowed to spend two weeks during that time in the U.S., so the rest of the time I will be traveling. Daunting? Yes. Exciting? Absolutely. I will be teaching English to elementary school kids in a city outside of Seoul 20 hours a week, and the rest of the time I will be writing and enjoying other scholarly pursuits, such as beginning a Masters Degree. Exciting, changing times are on the horizon.

Pray for me, if you would, that I would emulate the tax collector who beat upon his chest, saying, "God have mercy on me, the sinner."

Music, Concerts and Moses

"For heights and depths no words can reach, music is the soul's own speech." Those words are displayed on a painting that hung in my parents bedroom for I don't know how long. As a kid I grew up seeing it, and never really was able, (or tried for that matter,) to grasp the concept behind its statement. Every now and then I am reminded, that is, the truth of that statement is revisited in my mind, and I feel like I understand its poignancy. I think that there is a moment in every kid's life when they realize that there are some things that cannot be accurately expressed by words, and that there must be another medium through which to express these things. When this realization hit me it was in the mid-nineties, for me the golden age of music. Third-eye Blind, Goo Goo Dolls, Pearl Jam, Cake, Dave Matthews, it was all so good, so rich in meaning and expression.

What got me thinking about all of this was a concert I went to last night at a local art gallery downtown. It was a small-time band called Limbeck that I have loved for the past five years, ever since they opened for The Format in Flagstaff, AZ, in 2003. One of their songs in particular has significant meaning for me, albeit mostly due to nostalgia. It was one of the first guitar songs I learned to play well, and I played it all the time, let me tell you. The song wasn't on their set list for the night, so, at a particularly opportune moment I yelled the name of the song and they played it. To say I was elated would be an understatement. As they played I saw my last few years strung out across the lines of the verses and chorus, deep meaning dancing like notes spread across a page, changing static to dynamic, trading prose for poetry. Subtlety, nuance, it was all there. I was reminded of Moses and his writing of Genesis. As he wrote he shifted from prose one minute to poetry the next, then back again. It is as if there were certain things he felt he could not communicate through prose, things too beautiful to be communicated through its limited means. I love that idea, as if there are some things that my mind simply cannot grasp, was not meant to grasp, that are inherently impossible for me to understand outside of the artistic realm in which reside song, poetry, and the like.

Anyway, if anything, check out the band Limbeck, their first record, "Hi, Everything's Great" is wonderful.

Food for Worms

Keating: Seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Why does the writer use these lines?
Charlie: Because he's in a hurry.
Keating: No, ding! Thank you for playing anyway. Because we are food for worms lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die.

I think Robin Williams puts it well in the brilliant film, Dead Poets Society; we are food for worms lads, nothing more, nothing less. I have been thinking about this a bit lately, among other things, and I can’t shake the feeling that I am somehow wasting time. Like there are things grander and greater that I am destined for, and by working full-time as a valet I am somehow missing them. I hope it’s not true, and I think that its not, so long as I keep the vision, or, the faith, as it were.

Today I had the opportunity to speak with one of the top guys in Pepperdine Law, one of the schools I applied to, and he told me that, due to a number of factors, I probably didn’t have the best chance at being accepted to the school. My applying to Pepperdine was an uphill battle from the start, I knew that, but somehow hearing him vocalize what fears I had placed in the dark recesses of my mind initially filled me with self-doubt. I questioned my wanting to go to law-school, I questioned my confidence, and I questioned myself. It is a dark thing, I have to tell you, to acknowledge your own deficiencies and shortcomings; and it is a far more difficult thing to make your peace with them. So I allowed myself to give in to the doubt, to succumb to the voices of dismay, but only for five minutes…only five minutes.

I remember what I once heard Donald Miller say; that any good story is defined by antagonism. It isn’t just complemented by it, it is defined by it. Defined by the difficulty, the doubt, the darkness. I love that. When I really stop to think about it, the moments I feel defeated are swiftly followed by the moments I feel the most determined to fight back. It’s as if those moments exist to show me that life is hard, but that difficulty is juxtaposed with resistance. Resistance needs to be the defining element, not disappointment or professional discord. I once heard Will Smith say something in an interview that has stuck with me. When asked about what set him apart from other actors in Hollywood, he replied that it wasn’t his looks or his talent, but it was the simple fact that he was willing to, as he put it, “die on the treadmill.” Upon enumeration he explained that what he meant was that he would not be outworked by anyone. Someone else may be better looking or a better actor, but they would not be a harder worker. I love that idea, that it’s somehow not about how talented you are or competent or successful, but rather how willing you are to get back up. To defy the supposed reality of the human condition and in so doing refuse to give in to the enticing voices of discord. I want my life to be predicated on this principle of resistance, of refusing to believe for more than a few minutes that I am incapable of something great. I want today’s failure to be nothing more than the catalyst for tomorrow’s success.

Carpe Diem; another great idea from Dead Poets Society. An idea that calls into reality yours and my time here; it overlooks our successes and failures, our hopes and dreams, and asks us a simple question: have we seized the day? Have we made the most of what we have? Have we picked ourselves up from where we have fallen? In the end I know my story too will be defined by antagonism, and that I will one day be food for worms. How I sincerely hope that I will have the wisdom and the maturity to welcome my failings, and the strength to embrace struggle and resist.

Taylor

After years and years of playing my old, beat-up guitar, I decided it was time to upgrade. This is the new object of my affection, my beautiful Taylor acoustic guitar. Oh how I love it. I have already spent many an hour sitting with it on my old couch, quietly humming along to its melodies while gazing out the window at a cloud laced sky. It seems to heighten my senses, bring me closer to a state of peace and calm where nothing matters but the notes sung from its wooden frame.

truth & risk

"If something inside you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal. So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work. Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Don’t worry about appearing sentimental. Worry about being unavailable; worry about being absent or fraudulent. Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you’re a writer you have a moral obligation to do this. And it is a revolutionary act - - truth is always subversive."

Anne Lamott in Bird By Bird

The Moment Between Certainties

I find life to be a funny thing. Funny in a sideways, masochistic and occasionally uplifting kind of way. It seems to be full of contradictions, funny little nuances that might not be noticed unless one is willing to deeply think, deliberate, and eventually become confused. In that way thinking too hard will kill you. I am convinced of that. There are a million different problems and a million ways to solve them and there is simply no way that you or I can find the right solution to the right problem every time. Or even most of the time. And that is where I have a real problem, because, not only am I a constant thinker, I am constantly seeking to solve the problems of my life quickly and efficiently. Both of which are completely impossible.

I have tried, recently, to alter my lifestyle so it is more conducive to making good decisions and forging a palpable direction. I have tried exercise, I have tried something that resembles meditation, I have tried song writing and poetry and several other things to calm myself and carve out a positive niche. Which reminds me; a couple of days ago I found out that I have an ulcer. A stress-induced ulcer, to be precise. I know, so much for calming myself. It sucks, now I feel sick a lot, I occasionally feel light headed and I am generally mad at myself for allowing such an inconvenience to occur, which, of course, only aggravates my ulcer. Freak. I feel like one of those fat New Yorkers, running around in their ill-fitting suits yelling at whomever they can, only to stop momentarily and croak, “ack! my ulcer!” pop a few white pills and continue with their ranting. I’m too young for this. So this leaves me with a few options. My health insurance hasn’t kicked in yet, so I can’t take care of it the medicinal rout, thus, I am forced to keep myself at as low an excitement level as I can, and force myself not to worry about life. Ugh. I suppose in some ways its good, it will force me to slow down a bit, to stop worrying about everything. Which is a strange thing in and of itself. If you were to ask me if I feel stressed often, I would probable tell you no. But the truth of this is that there is some thing, some dark beast of a thing that lives inside me and denies me the luxury of relaxation and a guilt-free existence. I really need to work on taming that beast.

I just heard about a week ago that I am a finalist for the Fulbright Scholarship, which, I guess, is a big deal. If I am accepted into the program I will spend a year living in South Korea teaching English to Elementary School kids, bit of an environment change, I know. Both of my applications are off to ASU Law and Pepperdine Law, both great schools. I am still working full-time as a valet at the Esplanade, parking the cars, having a good time. Recently I have been restless, I guess ever since I graduated, and I feel torn between the inevitable change that I so crave and the safety and serenity that home provides. Subsequently, I have been into Bob Dylan lately, and I love his song “the times they are a changing.” So simple, so true.

I love how Don Miller puts it in one of his books, when talking about his relationship with God. He describes it as Jesus walking down a dirt road toward him, and as he comes closer he can see him with increasing clarity. At first only general things, the way he walks, the way he carries himself; then, as he comes closer he can see more detail, his complexion, the lines on his face. This is how I feel about God most of the time, he is on a dirt road, walking toward me. It takes time for me to understand him as I watch from a distance, studying his movements. And as I come closer to him, step by step, I can see more. I long to walk side-by-side him, as I would a friend. I think the beauty of life becomes more real, more tangible, when I stop trying to understand and predict it. When I sit back and try to live in the unknown, in that moment between certainties. I think that is where God lives.

Super Tuesday

I attended John McCain's Super Tuesday party at the Biltmore on Tuesday. It was an awesome and crazy time. It reminded me a lot of my time in Washington DC; people running here and there, trying to meet and impress anyone and everyone who might advance a career. I can't say that I was completely comfortable with it, I have had enough of that kind of lifestyle, but, nevertheless, there is a strange attraction that pulls me like a magnet to such things. I don't know what it is. Anyway, the event was loads of fun. Here are a few pics.


After McCain's speech, I was able to meet and talk with one of my long-time favorite news anchors, Tucker Carlson. He is one of the most down to earth, likable guys you will ever meet in the political world. I was really impressed with him.

Well, it looks as though McCain is going to be the nominee. Crazy. Only months ago it looked as though he was going to drop out of the race, and now he is the only plausible nominee. Thats politics for you. I, of course, couldn't be happier to see my old boss where he is. I think, as I have since working for him, that he is a great man, a man of conviction, and the only man who could possibly win against a Democratic challenger.