Creatures of Habit

Throughout this blog, I have preached balance, adaptation, analyzing, thorough, and thoughtful care to each and all situations, approaching with an open mind, ear, eye, and heart. A large part of these ideas is the constant state of change, of growing, maturing, evolving, and revolutionizing any or all aspects of your life. Not necessarily because I have all the answers, but again, to challenge people, and myself, to shine a brighter, more intense, invasive, and exposing light on things you might have taken for granted, amongst other things.

That being said, I believe that we are all creatures of habit, and to some extent, doomed to repeat many of the same mistakes over and over. And I, the preacher, am no stranger to falling into the same traps.

I can't even stop this conversation with mistakes, There are more situations in life besides successes and failures. In fact, almost nothing is that black and white. There is always debris, there is always fallout. Not everything is crisp enough to assign a plus or minus sign to. Not all victories are without loss, and vice versa. So considering all of these scenarios, these literally countless occurrences that fall in the middle, the muck, the gray area, all your adventures and relaxations, we continue to repeat what we know, step in our own steps, with something between fear and comfort keeping you inside the lines.

I'd like to say I can offer a way out, but this is something that I struggle with too. I'm thinking of this less in the terms of ordering the same thing every time I go to subway. It applies, but in a different way and for a different post (see future: Breaking the Monotony). I'm thinking bigger things, life things, job, things, relationship things, where even though you are consciously attempting to steer clear of whatever path you had previously carved, it's hard to wiggle free of something that you've already done, whether because it was the best option, the easiest option, the most impressive option, or, for a masochist, the one that offers opportunity for punishment and personal turmoil. The idea of learning from past experiences seems relevant here, but I'm not saying there isn't learning. I might spend an entire week waking up late for work, cursing myself each day for the extra hour in the car during my commute, the being one of the last ones in my group to get to my desk, the staying later in the afternoon to make up time and missing some early evening activities, etc, so I learn, and I promise myself that next week, things will be different. I learned my lesson. I understand the consequences. But sure as shit, next week, the extra 30 minutes of sleep is more important than aaaall the things I just listed. I learned, sure, but I didn't change, because during the summer, I'm a lazy creature of habit.

So maybe this was just a personal kick in the ass. Yes, I got to work at 7:01 this morning, but still, across the board, I want to challenge myself to be observant enough to recognize when I'm treading over my previous tracks. Not because what I did was right or wrong, but touching on an old, super-cliche, if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always gotten' (Tony Robbins). I know, I know, I hate cliches too, but there's something to that. So if you aren't happy with the results, see if you can find the power to break the habit.

Self Accomplishment is Priceless

I just got back from a weekend in New York City. I did a similar trip last year, and had a similarly good time, but the difference was, this time, I had my camera. Even though the battery didn't quite last as long as we did, I anxiously sat on the plane, hungover to the wall, waiting for touchdown, knowing how close I was to charging my battery and uploading my pictures. I took 160 pictures and 9 videos before my little Casio called the quits, and I could not wait to see what the 17" of my laptop screen would reveal. Obviously I was excited to post the pictures for the world to see, but I wanted to validate my naive, amateur, basic level of photography as something that could be appreciated by both ends of the artistic spectrum. As I cycled through, laughing at the shenanigans, cowering at the embarrassment, and cropping the excess, I realized that I have a legitimate chance, between the resolution of these pictures and the megapixels of my camera, to produce something that might end up looking relatively, well, professional.

Having a camera with enough megapixels to take wide enough pictures to crop when you get home makes all the difference in the world. And cropping the crap away from the target in a picture is something that goes overlooked in the layman's photo album. As most of you know, I am a freak with a camera. I figure snap happy now equals real happy later. And so that's what I did while I was in NYC. I think I took 25 pictures just walking the Brooklyn Bridge. That's 2 pictures every tenth of a mile. I guess when you break it down like that, it's not nearly as impressive. But the point of the matter is the more I took, the more I had when I got home, and the greater opportunity I had when it came time to do something more than make my facebook creepers happy.

I've almost settled on three pictures: Three pictures, three skylines, three different parts of New York, and all taken within a few thousand feet of each other. So what's my plan? Well I want to take these three pictures, cropped as they are at a 12 x 36 ratio, print them (on some nice poster paper), frame them (in something more than four pieces of skinny aluminum), and mount them on my massive living room wall. You know what it will cost me to take three pictures, get them printed, buy three frames, fit the posters in the frames, and get them on my wall? Probably over $100, depending on how cheap I go and what kind of deal I can find. You know how much it would cost if I went to allposters.com, picked out a random picture of a New York skyline, scooped up a cheap-o frame from Wal-Mart, and tacked it to my wall? Probably less than $10.

So the question is, why?

Well there's two reasons, and both reasons are selfish.

1.) When people walk into my apartment, I want this display to be one of, if not the first things they see. It will be hard to miss. And hopefully, if done well, will draw enough attention to it so people forget about the off shade of urine that my living and dining room walls were painted before I moved in. So my goal is that my little ensemble will be a conversation piece. I envision a new arrival to question where these so similar yet so different pictures came from, at which time I can gleefully claim that despite their professionalism, charm, and beauty, they were all taken by an un-charming, mildly attractive, amateur. Then I get to watch their transformation from appreciation to reasonable astonishment, and receive a bevy of questions about when I took them, where I was, etc, reliving the masterpiece that was my trip to NYC and basking in the moderate glory of my photographic skills. AKA I want to brag.

2.) While bragging is important, the basis of this rambling was to bring light to the importance of self accomplishment. I couldn't imagine anybody in this world walking into a store, seeing what will be the result of my hard work, and thinking that what they see is worth the ~$40 it would cost to take each piece home. It's not that I believe people don't overpay, I just know that there are more professional, better looking, more awe-inspiring pictures of New York City that deserve to be on a wall, and for less money. But the idea of decorating my apartment with things that I have experienced, documented, and created, makes me love my apartment more than anything else. Sure, it would be nice to have great taste in decorations with a deep check book, but where's the sense of accomplishment in clearing out a few aisles at Target? Sure, it would be nice to have great taste in fashion with a deep check book, but how much more significant is your favorite scarf that you made for yourself?

Now, I am definitely a hypocrite on this topic. There's a sense of accomplishment in changing your own oil, but really, if it costs the same and takes less time, I'll continue to have NTB do the dirty work.

But the closer you can come to self accomplishment, self sufficiency, self autonomy, the closer you will be to your own identity, your own life, one that you created, and one that you and only you will occupy, and that feeling is worth more than any dollar or credit card can buy. No one can take it from you.

"Die-hard"

Being a 'die-hard' fan of anything is tough work. Usually there is no way to curb the utter devotion you have to whatever object you are a fan of. For the sake of this post, I'm saying this as a die-hard Cubs fan, but in my mind, a modern die-hard Cubs fan. So what's the difference between a 'modern' and a 'traditional?'

Well there are two ways to consider the updated version of a die-hard fan, and they swing in opposite directions.

1.) There is more technology at our fingertips than ever before. You can be so engrossed in your team that you watch games on a 60inch LED TV when you're home, and watch them on your 3.5inch touchscreen phone when you're not. You can access pages and pages of stats, find out injury updates, contract updates, criminal report updates (K-ROD), read recaps of minor league games, follow players from Single A Daytona to Double A Tennessee to Triple A Iowa, catch highlights and expert analysis on several different media outlets including satellite radio and multiple TV stations, and find tickets to any game you would want to go to between stub hub and Craigslist and any other ticket selling website.

Summary: You can be more involved in your team now than was ever possible, imaginable, conceivable 20 years ago.

2.) This is more of the Baseketball mentality... "Now your kids with your loud music, and your Dan Fogleberg, your Zima, hula hoops and pac-man video games, don't you see? People today have attention spans that can only be measured in nanoseconds!" Well the details probably aren't too transferable, but the message is the same. The same technologies that make it easier than ever to be a die-hard fan also provide enough distractions to cover up any remnants of a team you once worshiped. Hundreds of HD channels, thousands of iphone apps, millions of downloadable movies, billions of downloadable songs, and trillions of daily tweets can keep the average, digitally connected 'die-hard' occupied like port-o-potties at carnivals. We are a generation built to multi-task, trained to tune out that which doesn't immediately entertain us, and assembled to switch gears like Chicago drivers.

Summary: You can be disconnected quicker from your team now than was ever possible, imaginable, conceivable 20 years ago.

My point of laying all this out is to say that these days, unlike for 'traditional die-hards,' there's more to do every day than head to the ball park to catch a game, but that doesn't mean that I am any less of a die-hard fan. After all, what does it actually mean to be die-hard? Adj. "Stubbornly resisting change or clinging to a seemingly hopeless or outdated cause." Doesn't say anything about knowing every stat, watching every game, rising and falling with every win or loss. It just means that every year, we're back at the table, licking our lips at the chance of glory, even when you have more unmovable parts than a brick shit house (Thanks to Jim Hendry).

So now that I don't feel like I'm wronging anyone, I'm here to say that sometimes it's nice to be able to hang up the jersey a little early. In the last few weeks, I have been moving nonstop, following plans sometimes 4, 5, 6 nights in a row, using weekends to their fullest, going up to lake houses, boating, working late, running errands, assembling my new home theater, playing volleyball, playing softball, and generally filling my time without added responsibility to check scores, standings, and stats as the Cubs finish out their season. The 2010 season is lost. I'll get back into baseball as the Division races heat up, I'll root against the Sox, and I'll look forward to the playoffs, but when you're able to slide off the shackles that being a die-hard fan can put on you and just enjoy the rest of what life has to offer, it can be quite a positive experience.

I'm committed to being a Cubs fan, and couldn't possibly fathom ever rooting for another baseball team for the course of a season, but to survive as a passionate fan of anything, you have to be able to thrive as much with it as without it.

Karma

What goes around, comes around, right? I have spent long-winded passages declaring my overall belief in being a good person, leading a good life, setting a good example, and falling asleep with a clear conscience. And I guess I figured that in the long run, as the idea of karma implies, any bad luck or hard times I've come across will be lost and forgotten when the good will of the world wraps me up in a blanket of warmth, blessing me with happiness and more or less rewarding me for being a 'good person.' I declared this because I do not consider myself a religious man, so instead of living my life for God, or living my life with the sole purpose of finding myself in heaven once my time expires, or whatever reason people give for following rules, laws, and commandments, I am content with helping those around me and doing everything I described in sentence #2.

With all that being said, is believing in the idea of karma inherently selfish? Mind you, I could write the same thing about those who live life for God or for heaven or whatever reason, but that's not my sack of potatoes.

I once questioned where people get their motivation from, and I guess that is the root of what's going on here. Do people perform good deeds because they believe that it will, in some way, come back around. And if so, is that good deed tainted? Closer to home, do I believe that? People always tell me that I'm a good person, that good things will come my way, that I impact lives in a positive way, and in some way, this is my motivation. Making the lives of those around me better makes me feel better. It's not truly masochistic, since it doesn't always cause me pain, but at some point, the happiness of others is more important than my own. So in that way, I get pleasure out of 'doing the good deeds of karma,' or however you want to describe it.

But I also really want to believe that I will be, as I said 'rewarded' in some way. I mean, if I am always caring for and taking care of others, I would hope that one day, whether its a full life or an eternal afterlife, my actions can be justified and the universe can once again hang in balance. I'm not saying that I'm unhappy now. I honestly have very little to complain about. So then I guess I would hope that as I continue on my journey, that the effort I put in is reciprocated by the results. In simple terms, I hope the ends justify the means.

But isn't there an unmistakable scent of selfishness in those last two paragraphs? How can you separate the desire to help others with the hope that it's not a wasted effort? I explain all of this because I believe it is rare, nearly impossible to find someone who does something good without thinking about karma. Maybe that's the cynic in me, and I hope that the world can at some time convince me that it's made up of good people. The Dark Knight seems to think so, and in reality, like Tweek says on South Park, 'even though all the news is about murderers and abductors, those kind of people only make up a very small part of the world.' But for now, I'm not convinced.

I don't know if it will ever be possible for me to do a good deed without thinking that there is some form of benefit for myself. So maybe I'm not the best person in the world, I'm no Saint, I'm no Angel, I'm no other mythologically moral creature; I'm just a regular guy with a solid approach to the world. And I don't think I realized this when I started mulling over the idea of karma, but if the world was made up of people selfishly playing their cards in hopes of it coming back around, then you'd be surprised how much happier this world would be.

In reality, I think karma is a bunch of hogwash. Bad things happen to good people, and vice versa. Don't let the result cause you to second guess your decision. Living a good life will see its reward play out tenfold as the world evolves, because the more you can impact the lives of those around you, then the more people they can spread it to. It's a pay it forward type of thinking. Hopefully that is enough to keep going.

Natural Default-Setting

I recently read an old commencement speech given by David Foster Wallace to Kenyon College in May of 2005. DFW is an author that I have come to realize possessed several similar qualities of my own writing, thus peaking my interest in this legendary, unfortunately deceased writer. While this speech is only the tip of what I hope to be a lengthy and enjoyable adventure in his writing, it has, almost immediately, left me changing my ways and thoughts and analyzing my day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute thoughts, actions, and approaches. Sounds like me already, huh?

I am going to give a brief, brief, brief summary of his speech, but if you have the time, I highly suggest you taking the 10 minutes to read this. It is top shelf material. So the overall, if you absolutely had to sum this up in two sentences type message is that we, as a people, are programmed to the 'natural default-setting' of living, which basically entails ourselves as the center of the universe, the focal point of existence, and every experience in the world is from our perspective, with us as the main character, and with everyone else as the supporting cast. His ultimate piece of advice is that 'most days, if you're aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at...' and fill in the blank, whether it's the inconsiderate prick talking on his cell phone swerving through traffic, the miserable parent that's dragging a kid through Old Navy, or just an unruly neighbor playing music too loud.

While there are literally thousands of words I could spew at this, and have no shame in drawing obvious comparisons to some of my own writing (cough cough Quick to Judge), I am choosing to ground this in not only something that I am very nearly in the future going to experience, but something that a large percentage of people don't seem to understand, yet have not thought about it in the proper context. And so even though this might not have been the most direct point DFW was trying to convey, this is just one way I want to run with it. Excited? Then keep reading.

So for years now, between bringing Rage Against the Machine into my 3rd grade music class to sneaking into my brother's room to listen to a Machine Head CD, I have been somewhat of a metal head. And from my first concert, seeing Fear Factory at the Metro when I was 13 years old, to my most recent concert, seeing Fear Factory at the Metro last Tuesday, I have loved the feelings, passions, motions, movements, and environments that a metal concert brings. And with every genre of music comes its own form of dancing. For heavy metal, this is known as moshing. And for over 11 years, moshing has been a part of my life. It is my firm belief that moshing is one of, if not the single most exhausting activities one can engage in. That's an assinine statement for me to make, considering such things like the ironman competition, but when thought of in a relative manner, meaning that moshing only takes place for 1, maybe 2 minutes at a time for 8, maybe 9 songs in a set, if you extrapolated this activity at a constant rate over the course of, say, an hour, well I just don't think you would find people alive on the other side. Moshing is brutal, seems barbaric, and in many ways is. You walk away sore, tired, bruised, out of breath, sweaty, and possibly seriously injured.

So why in anyone's right mind would you choose to participate in something that is most obviously detrimental and possibly seriously dangerous?

Well there are several reasons. At some point, it's like a badge of courage. 'Did you see that pit for Lamb of God at Ozzfest??? Yeahh, I was there.' It's the way us metal heads express our love and passion for the music. But in relevance to this piece, like DFW tries to convey, it is an unreal event that allows the inividual to lose sight of him or herself as the center of the world and be a part of something bigger, something that embodies an entire genre of music, something that people can show their friends on youtube the next day, and something that the bands feed off of, inspiring more crazy, passionate, ass-kicking music to rattle the crowd with.

In a mosh pit, there are no classes, no races, no ages. The playing field is leveled. Well, besides the differences in size. But, for the sake of the music, all differences are set aside in order to join together in an appreciation of the music and each other, knowing we are all bound together by what has so often cast us out.

So for those moments, banging, clashing, and colliding with each other, we have forgotten ourselves as the center of the world. And it is in this way, we have altered our natural default-setting.

And for those of you that didn't believe me after reading this, my skinny, shirtless, khaki cargo short wearing body is seen skipping through this Hatebreed pit...

Keep Myself in Check

So I have claimed several different reasons for starting and continuing writing in this thing. Mainly because I wanted my words to have a more formal, reachable platform for the world to consume, hoping to encourage and enlighten even the nayest of sayers, but I also had a lot of personal reasons for this constant and consistent pursuit of writing as a tool. It is only recently that I have discovered what might prove to be the most valuable reason yet. It is my firm belief that giving advice, in all forms, is often lost on the giver. I believe I have touched on this topic before: Heed. So with that in mind, I can say that the majority of the time that I fill these pages with seemingly mindless wanderings, that really I'm spitting out a different version of some sort of life lesson. That's not to say I sit here and try to preach my beliefs and get the world to live the same way that I carry on, but it's just to give some perspective and get people to challenge some of their own preconceived notions. If you equate what I just described with a mild form of broad advice, using my own life as the spring board, then you can also see how the man behind the lens sometimes forgets what its like to point the camera back.

What I'm trying to say is that having documented displays of my thoughts allows me to keep myself in check when I occasionally veer off my own sets of standards and theories.

So I can't find the quote buried beneath the 57,000 words that I've written in this blog, but at one point, I claimed that feeling vulnerable is how we know we're still alive. If you take it to the other extreme, if you can live your life without a care in the world, literally carefree, then in some ways, you're above living, off the ground, not quite stabled in reality. For the rest of us, when we're on a roll, and life is treating us well, whether it's sipping mojitos on a porch in the summer or cuddling up with your pup and a blanket on a cold, December night, you tend to skip over life like a hydroplaning vehicle, slow down and you might sink, but maintain speed and you keep your momentum. This then resembles the carefree liver who spends time experiencing anti-gravity, not literally. But the idea of being vulnerable, of someone having the ability to hurt you, of exposing enough of yourself to allow pain in, not only does it mean that there was a connection strong enough to cause the various degrees of suffering, but also that you're not too far above reality to realize that we're all delicate to an extent, fragile in a sense, and need to be treated as such.

This is where I needed the check. I needed the reminder that above it all, what I have makes me fortunate. And beyond that, what I feel now is a direct result of what felt before. And even though recent events haven't played out quite like I envisioned or if nothing else, strongly hoped, I should still be able to take solace in realizing the raw nature of what has happened, take the positives, and grow as a person. This should be the process for most things in life that don't go your way, and when you're trying to battle, fight off the empty feeling in your stomach, this might be the only thing that pulls you out of the tailspin.

I was able to make my way through this by remembering my own words. Instead of searching through lyrics and quotes and the words of others, trying to find the right combination to accurately describe my descending mood, the most logical piece of information was lost amidst my own thoughts, armed with enough artillery to combat that empty but powerful lack of gusto that bad news can create.

And to make matters even better, this only further continues my pursuit to take back control of my life. When the words of others that tried to pick me up fell on deaf ears, me rejecting the comfort, I became self-sufficient, capable of righting my own ship and getting me back to everything and everyone I love. Next time you find yourself caught in a downward spiral, whatever the cause and however severe, see if you have what it takes to be strong enough to help yourself, find a way to use your own resources, and prove that no matter what obstacle appears, next time, you'll know there's nothing you can't take on.

Taking Back Control

I just read a handful of quotes about advice in an attempt to do some research for this post, and I guess I came to some sort of conclusion, which is the reason I'm bothering to write this down. As someone who openly claims to be an over-thinker, over-planner, and over-analyzer, it's no surprise to find out that I often seek out advice, tips, pointers, guidelines, and any other possibly helpful bits of information that will keep me pointed in the right direction and moving forward. On the other hand, my advice giving skills have been known to reach rather ludicrous proportions. I have a friend that is so convinced that my advice is almost always nail-on-the-head type stuff that she had her friend, whom I had never met, tell me the story about a problem in her life, seeking my council. So I listened to someone I had never met tell me a story about people I didn't know, and on the spot, spewed out guidance like I actually knew what I was talking about. And it was good.

So now that my 'advice' qualifications and credentials have been established, let's look at what advice actually is. The best quote I've seen on this topic is, "Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't." Sure there are times when you are just completely ignorant about a topic, and have nothing to base an opinion on, so you must ask someone and get some council, but those aren't true situations of advice. I think of advice more of needing to make a decision, choose between 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 or 6 different outcomes. There might be times when you really think that you don't know what to do, that you're stuck in an unbelievably impossible situation, rock and a hard place spot, but even in those drastic situations, you probably have a pretty decent idea what to do, you just haven't let yourself think it enough to be your decision. Think back over all the times that you ever asked someone for advice. That's impossible. Think about the most recent times, ones that are still logged in your short term memory. Were you really in dire need of assistance, caught in a terrible dilemma, or did you kind of already have an idea in mind, and you just wanted that person to affirm what you already had decided?

Personally, I agree with that quote I referenced. Most of the time, people aren't shedding new light on a situation. If I'm to the point where I'm asking someone about it, then that means I've thought about it for a long time. And if I've thought about it for a lot of time, and put in the research hours, there's a really good chance that my mind is already leaning one way. All I want from the advisor is to give me a boost in that direction, even if it's a direction I don't want to go.

But the problem with advice is it takes some of the responsibility out of your hands, and that's something that I'm beginning to be intolerable with. Yes, there are times when I want to consult someone with more experience, knowledge, and expertise if there is something that I'm newer to, that's obvious. And I know that learning from other's mistakes is a valuable skill in life. If you can reap the benefits of someone else's falls, then you can keep your knees and elbows from getting scarred and continue on your journey. Sounds good in theory. But I don't think you can go through life, living through other people's experiences. You can tell a kid a hundred times that fire is hot, but they won't learn it until they stick their hand in a flame. Same goes with adults. And even worse, I don't think adults learn as well as kids do. Once a 4 year old realizes that the blaze of a fire can be painful to touch, they aren't really in the market for round two, and don't usually go back to playing with fire until their destructive teenage years. We adults will make some of the same mistakes and wrong steps countless times as we navigate our 'mature' years. But that's beside the point.

Again, you can't go through life using other people's mistakes as your own stepping stones. Because if things don't go according to plan, you're stuck looking back on a list of horror stories and tragic tales that you sought out from other people. That doesn't sit well with me. Mainly because we're all wired differently, built differently, composed of the same parts, but we're all running different software. Someone else can experience the exact same event in a far different way. I know you try to seek out advice from people that you deem like-minded, so you can trust their opinion, but like I just freaking said, none of us were hooked up by the same technician.

I have spent so much time invoking the opinions of my friends and peers and colleagues and family that I have begun to forget who I am as a decision maker. This seems startling to read. I base too much of what I do on the opinions of others. And this is, in no way, any sort of slight to my friends, peers, colleagues, and family members, but when it comes to life experiences, there is no one more fit to make a decision than me. No one knows me better than me, and no one will have to bear the weight of my decisions. I'm going to end this with two quotes, since "Derek says it's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong."

"This is me taking back control of my life."

Be the Change

If you had to get one phrase, one lyric, one quote, one saying, one piece of sage like wisdom to live by, tattooed on your body, branded into your skin, permanently fixated to you, what would you pick?

I don't really have an answer, because I think it would take a lot for me to finally decide on something. But I have an idea. It's a phrase that I seem to come across more and more, and truly embodies the relatively significant change that happened in my life late in college. It's something that sounds reasonably poetic, wouldn't take up too much room, and is something that I can't imagine that I'll ever not believe in. It's also a message that I want to spread. It was originally said by someone with unbelievable compassion for people, who inspired a positive life to anyone he came in contact with. All sounds gravy right? Well I thought about this for more than a few seconds and I had to have a decent answer, so here it is:

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mohandas Gandhi

I don't have life figured out. I don't have all the answers. In fact, I usually ask more questions than I answer. I've written about so many different little life theories, approaches, and moral tangents that my motto is pretty clear. Live a good life, do what you can to impact the lives of those around you in a positive way, and at the end of the day, you'll be able to sleep at night; the rest is out of your control. But this high level explanation doesn't really include the day to day activities, the nitty gritty, the interactions with people, the words I choose, the stories I tell, and the actions that I perpetuate. And I guess that's where I see this quote fitting in.

I say that I don't have life figured out, because I don't want to ever come across as a preacher. I say I don't have all the answers, because surely I am no stranger to being wrong. And so when situations in life arise where I have an opportunity to divulge my views to help, change, inspire, motivate, or in some way life alter, just spewing out little tidbits of wisdom can't nearly be enough to penetrate a layer of mental programming and create a new perspective.

Because the more you hear, the more you doubt. Tell me you're not sick of reports on the news about what foods are good for you or bad for you. Jelly Beans can help prevent cancer? Great. They can also make you fat? Oh, so I shouldn't eat 45 beans a day? Oh okay. I'm pretty sure, assessing the spectrum of food, we can pretty much, as a society, figure out the foods that aren't good for you, and should be taken in moderation, and the foods that are good for you, and you should try to eat more of. I know, I know, I just said I didn't have all the answers, and just went on a rant claiming to be right, but the point is, countless assertions about any topic saturates all the meanings. Words, as they say, would fall deaf ears.

We are a generation that has been talked at for years of an education. Everything we learned was from a book, or a chalk board, or the mouth of a teacher. So even after the nuggets of knowledge that told us otherwise, 'a picture is worth a thousand words,' and, 'actions speak louder than words,' nothing sinks in.

Finally leads me to my point. And maybe I take something out of the quote that Gandhi wasn't intending, but that's the beauty of literature, writing, poetry, quotes, you pull out any meaning you see. So besides not being a hypocrite, and living a life opposite of the way you wish the world worked, I also see an element of 'talk is cheap,' so to speak. And talk is cheap, because with the amount of dialogue the average person is inundated with throughout the course of a lifetime, the only way to truly begin to turns the gears of change is to lead by example.

This is not a fast process, this does not scream revolution, and by no means will this behavior reside in a spotlight like a rousing, passionate speech, but there are significant moments in history that can be marked by a simple action. Go research examples if you really can't think of any. But I wouldn't write this whole thing because of a few monumental historical instances in time. Situations don't always open up to you like automatic doors at Jewel, they're not that obvious. So you shouldn't be so confined to these designated opportunities. Yes, this is still 'high level,' but the small actions that you can portray keep this grounded. If you don't want people to ride your ass in traffic, then travel at a safe distance from the car in front of you. Hate it when someone leaves the seat of a public restroom up so you have to grab the diseased thing? Make sure you never repeat the favor, even if you're angry at the world. Get offended when people use derogatory slang? Just calling people out on it won't change who they are, but make a conscious effort to eliminate those words from your vocabulary, and who knows, maybe people will catch on.

There is nothing small enough in the world that isn't worth doing yourself, if it is something you believe in. Your efforts will unconsciously and almost undetectably affect the rest of us. If there is something that you see in this world that bothers you, upsets you, or shines poorly on who we are as a combined society, then you only have one choice: Be the change you wish to see in the world.

Roll With the Changes

Those of you who know me know that I'm a bit of a planner. Understatement of the year nominee. But in the same way that the gang from It's Always Sunny knows that 'technique don't mean shit on the street,' there are certain situations when planning is the last thing you'll need to get by.

Usually this is the point of a post where I launch into some painfully long scenario of when planning is the perfect tool for success, and then a contrasting scenario in which reacting to unforeseen complications is the only way to survive. And if I wanted to fill the page with empty prose, why, I could do that. But let's get philosophical.

It's been hard for me to be able to enter situations without a plan, and this goes across the board. Driving trips, date nights, weekend plans, group vacations, lunch errands, breakfast ingredients, whatever; usually, I'm on the ball. Entering into a situation where I didn't have a plan meant that I didn't have an out. As DeNiro says in Ronin, "I never walk into a place I don't know how to walk out of." And that's how I approached almost every situation. Without an exit strategy, without knowledge of what you're getting yourself into, how can you possibly feel comfortable? I don't know if I just lacked the confidence to be physically, socially, mentally, or emotionally secure in my surroundings, or if planning was something that I knew I could depend on, but for a large chunk of my life, this way of living seemed to pay off. For the most part, people kinda knew they could trust me. I had a friend who offered to describe me in one word, and went with 'dependable.' Needless to say, at that time in my life, I took that as a compliment. What better way to describe someone as dependable, able to be trusted, counted on to always come through, no questions asked, nothing taken for granted, no room for disappointment, no excuses for failure. Right?

Well, as DeNiro says in Heat, 'you know there's a flip side to that coin.' And this is going to bleed into something that I have belabored for years. Is too much of me thought out? And I guess this bridges a lot of different topics. But in general, as a decision on how to live and approach life, is there harm in falling back on winging it, figuring that everything will turn out fine, or is there just an inherent stroke of immaturity in that painting? More and more, I'm learning to take things as they come and as they are. I look to thrive in situations of uneasiness. I look to roll with the punches. And for anyone that's been around me recently, roll with the punches is the closest thing to a life creed that I've adopted. Partly because I get to blast REO and sing 'Roll With the Changes' for my theme song, but also because you really don't have any other options besides to roll with the changes as they come.

If you spend your entire life planning, then how are you going to react when something doesn't go according to plan, when chaos is introduced? If you spend your life jumping from stone to stone, figuring out which ones aren't stable enough to stop on, then how are you ever going to produce a long term outcome of buying a house, starting a family, or saving for retirement? Is the answer, GASP, balance? Well I don't know, probably. But if you feel yourself falling too deep into one lifestyle or the other, consider the consequences, and like Michael Jackson says, 'make that change.'

Where Does Your Motivation Come From?

When you're on the path, finishing your last mile, struggling to put one leg in front of the other, wavering as your feet lose feeling, where does your motivation to keep going come from? When your eyes are hazed over, barely able to concentrate on anything but the blinking cursor two feet from your face, fighting off outside distractions like a stalking feline, desperately trying to put intelligent thoughts into an project, where does your motivation to keep going come from? When you're cycling through pages of ads, flipping over digital cameras and half inch wide TVs, watching your future living room pass by, but donating your last free $100 to a charity, where does your motivation to keep going come from? When the traffic continues to build, row after row pour away from their work stations, the cleaning crew skips your cube, and you sacrifice dinner with your family to finish a report, where does your motivation to keep going come from?

There are hundreds of moments that you encounter throughout any given day that require various amount of motivation. And the motivation at each of these occurrences might draw from a different well. The severity of these will-testing moments is comparable to the depth of the will.

And so we spend our time fighting these battles, figuring out what burns inside of us and where it burns to successfully conquer the obstacles, pressures, and decisions that we choose to make with our lives. For something that takes focus, energy, patience, and certain amounts of determination, there must almost always be a decision, a source of the movement you have begun. So at the end of the day, why have you made this decision? What is your motivation?

I am guilty of proclaiming the human need to 'live in the now.' I find an unbelievable amount of satisfaction from the ability to step back and appreciate every breathing moment in my life. To be inspired by the insignificant and being amazed by the mundane. I have belabored the idea of this being a fulfilled life. That looking to the future only blurs the present. In fact, in Cuz You Gotta Have Goals... "Life can't be lived only looking forward or only looking back. The present is an amazing place to be." It is clear that I agree with this idea. So why bring this up? While watching a documentary on ESPN about Andres and Pablo Escobar (I recommend), I heard this quote:

"I find motivation in the good things to come."

In a similar perspective, the person that wants to go on a diet must look farther ahead than the present. If you're on a diet, but only care about today, well then you probably won't pass up that last doughnut at work. And if you're only thinking about the present, you probably won't sacrifice time with your family for a few extra hours in the office. And if you're only thinking about the present, you probably won't stay in to write instead of heading out with your friends. There is something to be said about the work you put in now. So while I don't want to discourage anyone from driving towards a goal, I think the only way to balance that drive is to make the goal attainable.

I still emphatically believe that there are dangers in wanting too much, and dangers in always being content with what you have, but if you believe that what you do every day can yield positive, life altering results, it's hard to argue against it. Just make sure the motivation you so desperately depend on is fueled from the right source. Misguided passion can leave detrimental pollution.

Mystery Science Theory

So last month I wrote about keeping secrets. If I may, "...leave the chaos that comes with covering the truth to the paid actors. The less you have to cover up, the more people will get to know the real you." Furthermore, I ended a post from over a year ago about 'not letting them see you coming' (a Devil's Advocate quote) with, "So here I am. Uncovered and raw. Take me as you find me. I offer no less. And I hope that's enough."

Well let's feed the idea that there are two sides to every story, while feeding my reputation of being a walking contradiction, and look at the flip side to that coin (and ignoring the three cliché phrases I used in that sentence).

I have previously acknowledged that there is something to be gained, and edge, you might say, by feeding the belief that you are weaker than your opponent. But I don't want to explore this idea in that context. Every situation in life isn't a fight, or confrontation. You're not always in need to have the upper hand. So the idea of being the underdog doesn't really relate to real life.

Family, friendships, relationships, etc.

There are worse things than keeping parts of your life under the bed, on the shelf, or out of the light. And there's a difference between being an open book and disclosing all your information. An open book still requires the effort and attention to detail of someone willing to search for results. This is drastically different than megaphoning your life story, secrets, fears, passions, and dreams for the world to hear.

It is healthy to be a little mysterious. Being mysterious doesn't imply you're hiding skeletons, but just that you reveal enough of yourself to keep attention, but don't give too much away to appear boring. People are often attracted to that which they do not know. The unknown is not only more powerful than the known, but its more appealing, holds more value. How many times will you take the grab bag instead of the prize already displayed? How many times are you intrigued by someone you don't know as opposed to those you see daily?

Does this mean it's the best decision? There is no best decision. But just be aware of what cards you show, and which ones you keep buried. You never know who is scoping your hand.

Mental Fantasy Image

So one mundane day, your friend tells you 'hey my girl's got this friend that would be perfect for you.' First reaction? Well, usually it's pretty exciting, assuming you trust your friend. Unless they are just trying to shove two of their loneliest friends together, you hope your friend knows you well enough to recommend someone that is compatible and desirable. This situation leads to maybe a group hangout, maybe straight to a first date. Assuming some reasonable attraction has grown, this situation will continue to jump from date to date, nights out to nights out, until a month or two has passed. I feel like I haven't done this in a long time: This is nothing new, I just described something everyone knows. But here's my launch pad.

If you skip along from getting together at dinner to hanging out at a bar to meeting some friends on a Friday night, assuming these interactions aren't leading to sex (call me old school), then you are only seeing this new interest in the best possible light. If this is your first date, you're putting on your knock out, home run outfit, you're making sure your hair is perfect, you're staying in the shower for an extra scrub, etc. We're talking best behavior at dinner, moderate drinks flowing at the bar, constant attention to details, trying hard to remember names and stories and backgrounds, holding doors, sporadic compliments, everything. And depending how long this masquerade continues, you could go 3, 4, 5 weeks, filled with this mental fantasy version of the person you've been 'getting to know.' Well, picture that mental fantasy image, and now try to figure out what percentage of that image is truly the accurate portrayal of this new fling.

So now you're in a situation where all the cliched, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days-esk bad habits and runaway-type traits pile up, completely reversing this perfect sculpture that was created. Now, I know this isn't always the case, so ignore that portion. And of course, not all details of a person can come out in the month or two of initial dating. But think about the little things. You only get to see their best 5 or 6 outfits. What if the rest of their closet is filled with stained, ripped, baggy fitting relics of previous, or worse, current wardrobes? Is that the end of the world? No. But is that what attracted you to this person in the first place? Well, probably not. Could this secretly be who you wish the person was, based on conversation and similar interests? Maybe. It's like interviewing a candidate who only has one suit. You might assume they're a sharp dressed man, but in reality, they're just a man with one suit.

What's to make of all this? Do you look at someone on a first date and think, 'well yeah they look nice, but what's the rest of their closet look like?' Do you notice a neatly folded napkin on their lap and think, 'yeah but how neat is their apartment?' Does this just falsify every piece of wardrobe, every action, every joke, comment, or story, viewing them as if under stage lights, only meant to portray something not entirely real?

It is this thought strand that, on one hand, terrifies me of the dating scene, but on the other, makes me realize something that completely relaxes me. This rant of built-up fabrications only occurs when two people come into contact whom have never met previously. Well what about the other scenario? The more common scenario, based on a survey I didn't actually take. I'd be willing to bet that the majority of people currently in relationships have had some previous contact with their now significant other before that first date ever happened. Whether its classmates, coworkers, same circle of friends, or just moving at a slower pace, more times than not, you already have somewhat of an idea who someone is before you wine and waltz the night away. And realistically, doesn't that make the most sense? I'm not saying you should be best friends with someone before you ever decide to date, but what's the harm in getting to know someone a little, test the waters, per se? It has to be better than jumping into a lake, when who knows what is lurking. At least I hope so.

Century Mark

My last post was my 100th since starting this blog 16 months ago and this weekend left me no time and in no condition to write, but forcing myself to produce four posts per month has kept me in writing shape, so while my world of hungover is inching me closer and closer to a long, restless night's sleep, I'm using my waning time to talk about the weekend that was.

Started with a party at RAM with coworkers and my brother: Gorgeous, warm, sunny afternoon cocktails with the anticipation of a long, fun weekend ahead. There aren't many better feelings than that.

A BBQ at a friends house back in Palatine: The gang was back together, bags and frisbees were flying, food was delicious, the weather was perfect, the drinks were flowing, and we all had fun. Success.

Saturday hanging around Palatine then going out in the city: Successfully found enough people and a location for bags, had enough sun for some sunburn, and had enough time to get back for the Hawks game. Having a team in the finals for a sport creates an unbelievable buzz in the city, it needs to be experienced.

Sunday before Memorial Day Cubs game: We had perfect weather, a great group, awesome seats, (crappy game), Gruber caught a baseball tossed up during batting practice, hours of bags, laughing, and countless other shenanigans.

It was a long, exhausting, sun and friend filled Memorial Day weekend, including two Stanley Cup victories for the Hawks. I'd say if I had to take a weekend to blame for not having time to write, I couldn't have sketched it up any better.

Justified: Quick to Judge

So imagine the scenario: You've left work 45 minutes ago. The sun is toasting your car. Your socks are dripping with sweat. You've been in bumper to bumper, Chicago traffic for miles. You're still not even halfway home. Your schedule is being shifted. And above all, there is nothing you can do. Then, just as you're ready to punch through your airbag, you see a 1992 rusted Chevy Corsica flying down the shoulder going 45mph. The sun now has nothing on your heat. You nearly steam the windows you're so fired up. All you can think of is every sinful insult you've heard in your life. Every putrid put down. Every offensive onslaught. And you curse the Corsica for life, banish the driver to eternal damnation, and hope that they get caught between on-ramps, impaled into an overpass. That's the only possible solution for someone with such careless disregard for the rest of the dying public, the creeping masses.

But what if the driver of that car is on his way to the hospital where his wife has passed out while giving birth. a.) Traffic laws no longer apply; b.) He is not intentionally giving you the proverbial middle finger; c.) Are you really in a position to judge whether or not his actions are justified? There is only one thing in the world that matters to him, and nothing will stop him from getting to his family, regardless of the consequences, which, I must say, hardly include the scowls from the cars he his passing. It's his life to live. It's his head that must come to a rest at night. You were ready to throw down the shackles of death, but at the end of the day, you just don't know.

This is one, relatively drastic situation, but consider how many times you pass negative judgment on someone based on a minuscule act of inconsequential importance. It happens constantly and consistently throughout the course of every hour of every day. It's impossible to ignore. I'm in no way a saint when it comes to this. I throw out the back handed slaps to the face as often as Rick Flair. Or at least I used to. And I'm writing this now to try to change that mindset.

Like I said, at the end of the day, you just don't know. In the same way that everyone's tolerance of pain is different, and not all people may perceive the outside world in the same light, every person has a different threshold of what will cause them to act in a way that goes against your grain. There is no standard. There is no base line to follow. There are certain situations that will cause me to react in a volatile, hostile, and really damn aggressive manner. It doesn't happen very often, but they are out there, those situations. And I promise you, you do not want to be around when that time comes. Besides me, think of how many times you see an unfortunate, uncomfortable, inopportune situation, that in some way, negatively impacts your life, and your first reaction is to assign them some life fault. But, you just never know.

HEY, HEY, CHRIS!!!! But what if that speeding Corsica was just another asshole in the eternally long line of assholes walking this earth? Then so be it. But what's the harm in cutting him some slack? If you judge them as damnable, then all it does it make you more mad and peg a possibly innocent person (that you'll probably never meet) as a leper, an outcast, a social deviant. But if you think, 'wow, bet he has an emergency to get to, am I ever glad I'm not in his shoes,' well, then, it goes away. Last night, it took an extra 20 minutes to get home from work because there was a four-car accident on the expressway. Instead of my first thought being, 'thanks ya'll, now I'm late to dinner,' I forced myself to think, 'well being that person would have really put a wrench in my plans for the night.'

This this kinda bleeds into the theory of there's someone else out there that has it worse, so appreciate where you are. If you just take the time to step back and assign a justification to whatever crazed situation you are witness to, you might find the world isn't filled with bastard coated bastards with bastard filling, maybe they just need to catch a break from the person riding on their high horse. So step off your judge's platform and put down the gavel, who knows, someone might cut you some slack when things don't go according to plan.

My Dirty Little Secret

So while I was caught up watching Freaky Friday on my withering Sunday evening, I saw a commercial for ABC Family's Summer of Secrets, featuring season previews of teenage dramas revolving around lies, secrets, cover-ups, and any other less than honest activities. This is not the first time that the topic of secrets has inspired a rash of thoughts, so let's see if I can actually form them into something logical, literate, and legible.

Take some time to think about the secrets you currently keep. Things that are voluntarily kept out of the light, away from public discussion, hidden, locked, stored in a safe, and reserved for only the rarest of the rare situations. How long is your list? Did that process bring you through a rash of embarrassing, illegal, and possibly harmful thoughts, behaviors, and actions from your past?

I'm oscillating so much on this topic because I keep contradicting myself. So for the sake of writing, I'm going to have to make some generalizations that I recognize might have fragments of untruth. I apologize for this, but it helps me to be able to place my head around the idea. Since secrets can be positive, like confessing love, or conspiracy driven, like political scandals, or even beneficial, like a sweet, secret agent, you have to forget those and follow my logic. The secrets I'm referring to are the ones that make you feel guilty to keep them, that create lies and deceits to cover them up, and have the potential to ruin a positive experience if ever leaked.

Secrets have been popping up in a lot of entertainment recently, and the display of dramatic irony is key to keeping the audience guessing, or characters in the show guessing. We don't need that in our lives. Secrets and lies often parallel each other, and when the topic of under-the-rugging flirts with danger, the stakes are raised and the effect is snowballed. So something that starts as an innocent infraction, a minor case of bending the laws (legally, emotionally, personally, whatever), can fester, grow, and become an uncageable beast. Something small but dangerous requires constant suppression, guilty lies, and keeping the truth away from people that may be closest to you.

I know, I am writing in vague terms with poor examples and dizzying synonyms, but I guess this little rambling was meant to convince you to keep less secrets, be less dramatic, and leave the chaos that comes with covering the truth to the paid actors. The less you have to cover up, the more people will get to know the real you. And if the real you is something you're trying to hide, then consider making positive changes in your life so that you can leave more of it exposed.

Young Forever

While I was driving home yesterday, I saw a man, looked to be in his mid 60s. His hair was somewhere between gray and white. He was driving a small SUV. And both his hands were locked hard on the wheel. And while staring through his thick glasses, he bobbed his head, keeping the beat to a song I could only begin to imagine. There we were, driving down the same expressway, at the same time, 40 years separated, separated by clothes, cars, morals, ideals, experiences, memories, and hair color, but for a moment in time, we were the same person. The same, music blasting, head bobbing, carelessly mumbling lyrics guys, cruising along the pavement. By living in our own musically driven world, we inherently breached those same boundaries in a passing glimpse of each other lives. Did he see me and think about what his life was like when he was 24 years old? Well that I'll never know. Kinda doubt he had car stereos for him to rock out to. But I can assure you, I looked at him, and immediately wondered what kind of man I would become.

And that question didn't fall into the usual, unbelievably complex and side winding thought strand that I have been known to spit out. It came down to one, simple, elegant, perfectly precise question: When I am 65 years old, driving home after renewing my license, will I still be grooving to some song from my young years, rocking out to Disturbed on the classic rock station, moving my shoulders to Dre on the classic rap station, or simply smiling and singing to Counting Crows on the oldies station? See? Precise.

Obviously this question has an answer that won't come for 40 years, but I can tell you this, I will do everything I can to maintain the happiness and freedom of my 'youth.' I know that with every year that adds on, more responsibilities, more people depending, more expenses, more worries, stresses, illnesses, deaths, and the like, all add on too. And it is normal to be content with those transitions. I don't think it's a matter of maturity. But I hope that as I age, and when 25 becomes 35 and becomes 45, that as these numbers keep flying by like a street light from a roller coaster, I can do my best to always have a thumb on top of my younger days.

I don't anticipate this to be easy, and I know this whole idea is a little cliche, but I just don't want to grab a box from a closet one day to see my Collective Soul tape fall out and realize I haven't heard a song from the 90s in months. And I don't want to be caught up watching the new 2031 fall crop of NBC's regurgitated cop dramas without popping in my recently ordered complete series of O.C. DVDs. And I don't want to be in the theaters for the apocalyptic thriller, '2040,' without enjoying a private screening of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in my living room some time.

And I want to be able to pick up a wiffle ball bat and laugh. And I want to buy a hot wheels car for my son, and secretly just pick out the one that I'll play with when he goes to bed. And I want to be able to sing the Toys 'R' Us song like I did in my 6th grade talent show.

But most of all, when the weather is nice, assuming we still have nice weather in 20 years, and when my windows are down, assuming we still have cars with windows in 20 years, I want to throw in my mix CD from the 90s, assuming we still have CD players in 20 years, and I want to crank that sonuvabitch until the speakers are ready to explode, and for a moment, for a passing relapse in an otherwise occupied life, more import than remembering what it was like to be 24 and young, I want to be 65 and free as an escaped kite, floating away under the sun, basking in the life I have lived.

My Ducks

So, way back in the day, when I was still using Facebook to publish my notes, I wrote about my ducks. Referencing a quote from A Lot Like Love, the idea was that you have to have priorities. First you get the job, then the car, then the girl, then the house, then the family, then it all makes sense. From A to B to C to Z, step by step. Planned. Coordinated.

So what I wrote about was not worrying about keeping my ducks in line. And I still 100% believe in that. There's no plan, no set way that I should live my life. If you're not flexible enough to welcome when a new duck enters your life, then you're setting yourself up for failure. This shouldn't be rocket science. I'm not a profit. I'm just explaining what is most logical.

But all that being said, I just turned in my signed and dated official contract that signifies the beginning of my first stint as a salaried employee. Ever. Up until this point, I've been an hourly employee at Linen N Things, my mom's company Gallagher Basset, my dad's company E.H. Wachs, worked part time for U of I, then came home and spent two and a half years as a contractor, filling out time sheets, working 40 hours, and always having a little asterisk next to my name in some way, highlighting that I'm not an official employee of the establishment in which I do my work.

So, back when I wrote, "Consistent, possibly stationary long term employment may be the first true mile marker in the journey of the rest of my life. Tentative check," well........ CHECK.

It may not be the first step, the lead duck, or whatever you want to call it, but for now, it's the most important one. And to this point, will stand as one of the most important things I've accomplished in my life.

People Who Stare At People

So how many times do you swing your head around and peer into the window of the car next to you while you're driving? Pretty much every car you pass? But as soon as that person returns the stare, you look away like they're a solar eclipse. Or how about sitting in a crowded restaurant, checking out every face and body that so much as flinches. Different venue, same result. As soon as their eyes make it back to yours, you jerk your neck faster than a crash test dummy hitting a wall at 60mph.

I am 100% guilty of this. I don't know if there's a vehicle that I pass, which is a lot, that I don't check out to see who is driving. If the person was driving like a jackass, I want to see what a jackass looks like. Or confirm that they are on their phone or doing their makeup. If the car is especially nice, I want to see what a rich person looks like. And going back to 'What Drives You,' I've already judged every car on the road as soon as I see it. So more than anything, I'm just looking for confirmation of my judgment. Or, ya know, that rare time where I'm just looking to see if it's a cute girl. But that's rare. Very rare.

The restaurant scene has a slightly different feel. I might notice someone's summer dress and want to see what she looks like. Or overhear a conversation and wonder what kind of jackass would say something so dumb. So I have to look and see what a jackass looks like. Or I notice some special or exotic drink being delivered. I want to see what the elitist people are doing out in public besides showing off their ability to order adventurous drinks. And then judge the shit out of them. So more than anything, I'm just looking for confirmation of my judgment. Or, ya know, that rare time where I'm just looking to see if it's a cute girl. But that's rare. Very rare.

But still, from checking out a cute girl to mentally judging the jackass to admiring someone with good taste in vehicles or style, the overwhelming majority of the population immediately changes their stare once the look is returned. At this point, it teeters on the edge of extreme training and human instincts. I say human because I have never known an animal to be too shy to stare at someone, even long after the stare is returned. Are we all just timid little scaredy cats (pun intended) that can't deal with the pressures of seeing someone's eyes? Or do we feel that our intentional look is in some way invading the personal air space of our target?

Well I find both options rather curious.

Are we just all scared? I mean seriously. I would hope that the majority of the people who read the first few paragraphs kinda nodded their head in agreement. So we all know what we all are doing. There are no secrets here. When I drive by your car, I am going to look into it. When you drive by my car, you will look into it. So why, when we meet eyes, is it like the two positive ends of a magnet. Can't, possibly, stay, looking, directly, at, each other. Arrgghhhhh!

And do you really feel like you're breaching the protective bubble that we all walk around with. Do you get the heebie jeebies when you notice someone staring at you? If so, why? Are you *that* self conscious? If we all realize that most people that are staring are just confirming their previously assigned judgment, why do we feel so violated when a set of eyes stays on us longer than a passing second? We need to relax a little. But our response is to judge the person judging us. 'Who is that person lingering longer than the society standard?' And the only thing that will stop that feeling is if that person is cute!

So let's make a decision together. Don't stop staring, stop caring. So someone is looking at you... take it as a compliment. Return the glance if you so choose, or if you even notice. It is not an invasion of privacy, it's just looking. You do it too. Let's get over this socially trained fear of a set of eyes on us and just realize there are more important things than the jackass staring at you from the next lane. Like figuring out if the next car has a cute driver! But only on rare occasions...

The Pale Blue Dot

"The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena...Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light."

This is a quote from Carl Sagan's book 'The Pale Blue Dot.' I first heard of this book as a one minute interlude song on a Story of the Year CD, and it struck me. It challenged some of my ideas about this planet and the people that occupy it. I was revisited by this book recently, watching a video that claims 'the world would be better if everyone watched this video.' And once again, I was impressed. I was moved, even.

Now, for the purposes of this post, I am strictly arguing against the quote I have previously stated. Though I believe that this is not taken out of context, rather, is a rather fair summary of this portion of the novel. So while I will be posing my 'counter-argument,' mind you, I still strongly encourage you to watch this video, if not to form your own option, at least to enjoy it for what its worth.

OK. So. Seeing the Earth from the rings of Saturn displays it only as a pale blue dot, and as Sagan describes, 'our planet would be just a point of light, a lonely pixel hardly distinguishable from the other points of light Voyager would see: nearby planets, far off suns.' But here's the deal, from a distance of 3.7 billion miles, I agree, we are insignificant. We blend in as a shell on Sanibel Island. And that perspective out shadows any war or peace, any hatred or love, any friend of foe. If you want to start counting stars and galaxies and planets and asteroids and every other bit of orbiting or stray matter that is floating somewhere in this existence, whether the light we're seeing is from eons ago or not, whatever, i get it, we're small.

They say it's all relative. So we're relatively small in comparison to the rest of time and space. A blip on the time line. A pale blue dot in space.

But the earth, relative to me, is on the verge of incomprehensibly big. The sun, is that much bigger than the Earth. Jupiter, is that much bigger than the sun. Earth's path around the sun, is that much bigger than Jupiter. Jupiter's path around the sun, is that much bigger than Earth's path around the sun. And the star, Betelgeuse, is bigger than that.

My mind cannot comprehend that. That is out of my mind's comprehension, and out of the things that impact my daily life, besides being able to spit out that little nugget while walking on a clear enough night to spot the constellation Orion. Break it down further, and the scale of things that do impact my daily life seems to dwindle. Now I completely understand the idea of a global economy, of the people, places, industries, environments, animals, jobs, and strategies that go into each moment of life, and how encompassed I am in that. But for me, the people, feelings, and personal impact on society is what drives my life.

So before I keep rambling and get off topic, relative to the rest of space, we are nothing, but relative to the rest of space, we are everything. To me, nothing exists outside of this planet. No life has spawned anywhere else, that we know of. This unique collaboration of rock, molten rock, metal, and water has come together to create the center of our universe. We are the center of the universe. Because what we do here impacts our lives. Aside from a stray asteroid taking out our planet, I'm going to say that we'll be the ones to destroy it.

Cuz like Sagan also appropriately describes, 'there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.'

So what do you think?

Lyrical Exaggeration

"Cause honestly the truth is that you know im never leaving
Cause you're my angel sent from above
Baby you can do no wrong"

- Justin Bieber - 16

"And even when we're miles and miles apart
You're still holdin' all of my heart
I promise it will never be dark
I know, we're inseperable"

- Jonas Brothers - 17, 20, 22

"Its like you took my heart and purposly tore it in two.
I Never knew what a person like you could do.
I dreamt and prayed through the nights that someday i would win back your love.
But this dream would only be if you loved me enough."

Miley Cyrus - 17

"Looking so innocent,
I might believe you if I didn't know
Could've loved you all my life
If you hadn't left me waiting in the cold"

Taylor Swift - 20


What am I missing? Millions of these artists' records are sold each year. Unbelievable pop sensations. Life of a Hollywood star before legally able to drink alcohol (Except that oldest Jonas brother. What a creep). And somehow they have all experienced deeper love and more painful heartache than I have, enough to write songs and songs and albums and albums about angels from heaven and heart-breaking liars?

Obviously, there's a market for this kind of music. Whether its middle school kids that believe each relationship will be their last, or college kids that use the overly sensitive lyrics to connect with their 'adult' problems, people are still buying this music, and, at some point, listening to and connecting with the lyrics. Yeah, because when I think of breaking up or falling in love, I want to hear what the newest teenage heart throb has to say on the subject.

But maybe it's a necessary evil. Truth is, I had to do a decent amount of searching to find these examples. Because the mind of a 17 year old works much different than the mind of an adult. I'm sure there are enough people in the world that can convey the strong feelings associated with matters of the heart in poetic and mature ways that would offer a comforting support or insightful guidance without needing the pride of teenagers in America filling our airspace. Ask me for examples. But what we fail to realize, after the initial retraction from these high school heroes, is that love and pain, obsession and misery, is all relative.

I remember sitting in my room for an entire weekend, listening to the same, angry, violent, turbulent CD on repeat, all because of a girl. Obviously the genre of my music differed a little, but still, to me, at the time, it was the most crushing thing that could have happened. But what was I? I was no one concerned with world problems, finding a job, maintaining an apartment, taking care of my family, or anything else that you might consider to be more important in the grand scheme of things. But hell, I was 16 years old and didn't know anything. Relative to my situation, this was it. This mattered more than the rest of the world.

So while these kittens and puppies are out there, *hopefully* writing their own music, maybe these gross exaggerations are warranted based on some sort of young love that they thought would last forever, even if any logical person would look at the success rates of high school romances and scoff at the idea. Maybe the less developed mind needs to hear from a less developed set of vocal cords that breaking up is the hardest thing you'll ever do. And maybe, when you see some 29 year old at the coffee shop listening to the newest thigh high teen tweeter, there is a connection between the over dramatization of emotional lyrics with the almost assured state that we all once found ourselves occupying at some point in our younger lives.

So, if the music either speaks directly to the kids of today, or connects the rest of us with our long forgotten childhoods, then can we ask the question whether it's really an evil at all?

And besides, do we really want the youth of this world listening to Celine Dion when it comes to matters of the heart?