What am I Talking About Now?

It has been a long and arduous process, but I am beginning to realize that I alone suffer the greatest loss as a result of being apathetic. The people around me may not receive the best that I can offer at times, and they may be inconvenienced, but the resulting lack of hard work directly affects me. Whether it be the attention I pay to my diet (i.e., my health), or the attention that I pay to ministry (i.e. growing closer to God), or the attention I pay to the ones that are closest to me (i.e., my family); I will be the one living with regret if I don't change. My dad, a wise, sensitive and gentle man once said to me, "Son, of the two; it is better to live with remorse than it is to live with regret." I shake my head sometimes when I stand on a shore line watching the sun begin its descent to hide behind the water at how marvelous God is and how much he orders the universe and how disillusioned and miserable I've felt in the midst of it all because I've not taken the responsibility to act upon my regrets. Sleeping long hours, or hiding behind hobbies doesn't do anything to change regrets. Being afraid to fail, and using that as an excuse, makes 32 years seem like a long time to realize that it is better to have failed with no excuses than to have failed from not trying. There are things that I want out of life that I am hungry for. I feel as though I've held them in my hand, just long enough to realize they're there but not long enough to enjoy them. The dreams that I have for myself ease out of my hands with the same ease that it took me to get them. I have come to believe that you appreciate what you have to fight the hardest for. I know that much to be true of myself. I miss the feeling of accomplishing that thing, that one thing that you have to change your whole life to attain. I remember being in the 10th grade in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. We had just gotten in a new teacher and a basketball coach who was an avid runner and former collegiate track and field athlete. He told us all, those that wanted to play on the basketball team, that if we even wanted to try out, we had to run a mile in under 6:30. I have been a bit overweight since I was in junior high school. I would always walk when we had to run the mile in P.E. classes in junior high and high school. I never received very good marks in P.E., funny considering that I could and would play football and basketball from dawn to sunset. Anyway, my dad and I went started going to the track a month before tryouts. I wanted to play on the team so badly that anything he suggested, I did. We started with wind sprints of 100 yards, at the end of that 100 yds, I had to either do 10 push-ups or 10 jumping jacks. I was so exhausted, I was spewing vomit like a pressure cooker releases steam. I got up the next morning and practiced my shot, and went jogging. My initial times were a little over 8 minutes, but I stuck with it. On the day we were all supposed to run in order to try out for the team, I ran the mile in 6:24 seconds. I nearly passed out from the nausea and exhaustion. I made the team. I felt so good that I had overcome areas of weakness to accomplish my goal. I miss that feeling immensely. Even more so, I've lived with regret and remorse at not being willing to motivate myself to do the same for me now. I plan to change that. My friends and family have always loved me enough to tell me the truth. I have not regrets for that!

So Annoying!

There are a few things that really annoy me. I mean annoying to the point of feeling like spitting on epitaphs and cursing old ladies. So annoying this thing can be, you'd want to tear up a phone book or scream in the ear of nun during prayer. OK, it may not be that bothersome, but it sure as heck feels like it sometimes. Everybody that drives has driven in such a way to annoy somebody else. Slow drivers ask, "What's up with them?" when people are driving fast. Aggressive drivers get peeved when slow drivers are in the fast lane. People that make right turns from the middle of the lane wonder why most people make right turns from the bicycle lane. Joggers don't like people walking on the sidewalk, cyclists don't like runners on the pavement and drivers don't like cyclists that ride in the middle of the lane like they're a car. All of these things, howbeit ever so debilitating to your senses and well being, won't kill you but they may cost you some money - how many of us have slipped our way through a yellow light hoping it wouldn't turn red...awww man, I just saw a flash!? Even though all the aforementioned stuff is about as annoying as a bee in a sleeping bad, parking lot tail-gaters take the cake, especially when you're at the same grocery store and more especially when you are in your apartment complex. They pull so close behind you that their windows fog up from your car's exhaust. They ride their horn like their arms are weighted in lead. If you're turning left, they're trying to pass you on the left. If you're turning right, they're trying to pass you on the right too. You have one chance, no more, no less, to get your car into the correctly designated space. You grit your teeth, lean your body up and peer down at the front of your car. You start to make that swooping right to get into your space on the left. You concentrate, looking in the rear view mirror with a stink face to rival city employees cleaning up pigeon poo - leaning in you make the turn. No damage to your car, no damage to the cars beside you, just a feeling of relief because you felt hurried. Not me, not anymore, from now on, like my friend Tina said, "Whasssup fool, you's just gonna to have ta wait, peeeriood, dude!"

Sporadic Rambling?

I can say without trepidation that I often spend too much time thinking about what other people think instead of thinking about what I know. I say this to mean that no other person should be the definitive authority when it comes to me defining myself and my existence in context to the world around me. I heard Lebron James say, and I'm sure he heard it somewhere else or his wisdom is profound for his age that, what we do in life echoes throughout eternity. My life has meaning and the ramifications of that meaning will reverberate in the physical as well as the spiritual. I believe that my spirit will join God in heaven when my time here on earth has come to an end. The question I ask myself is the impact that I will have while I am here. How will I leave my mark? What will I do that is of enough effect to last when I no longer occupy my physical body? I figured that the first place for me to start is to give of myself for the betterment of those that are around me. I also thought that it would be good to live for the moment, plan for the latter, but refrain from the fear of tomorrow - as the good book says, it isn't promised, thus the importance of understanding the relevance of today.

I'm the Eldest!

I can't recall how many times my mother or my father would implore me to supervise my siblings by reminding me of my birth order. They'd say stuff like, you're the oldest, they follow your example, your responsible if anything happens to them. There were times when blame was placed at my feet, even when I didn't have anything to do with it. There were good times and there were bad times as well. The bad times always happened when they'd reply, you're not the boss of me - I don't have to do anything you said. I'd respond telling them that mom or dad left me in charge. Last night, after watching Slumdog Millionaire, I am going to start saying, and will teach my kids (when I get some) to say, "I'm the eldest, you must do as I say." That was the best line in the movie for me. Any backtalk or refusal to obey was met with, "I'm the eldest, you must do as I say." I wish that worked in every arena where I was the oldest person in attendance. It would make things so much easier.

Kettle Corn

We were surrounded by throngs of people lost in the flurry of tasting new foods and sharing Christmas cheer. I wrestled my way through a crowd, even shared my prize with a random stranger, but after texts and phone calls from a friend, I secured my own bag of Kettle Corn. The entire night, everyone snacked on handfuls at a time, to the exception of one, who'd pick out one kernel of corn at a time. The holiday bliss was free in the air, and all we did was stare when we heard the Polish band...Something new to my eyes, never before seen 'live' it was, but cute as ever seeing the kids perform traditional Indian dance. From Brats, to catfish, to hushpuppies and crepes, kettle corn reigned supreme!

Say Cheese!

Sometimes I snicker when I see or hear campy romance stories. I laugh at the joy others feel when they receive the gift of being loved by someone else. Side splitting laughter bellows from my gut when I see tears rolling freely in a movie built on a love story yet...my favorite movies are built around that premise.

I empathized with Superman when he screamed to the heavens when he found Louise dead from suffocation. My eyes refused to blink when Bruce Wayne's parents were gunned down inspiring him to become The Batman. Goosebumps rose on my arms when William Wallace took on the English because a noble man killed his wife. After every brain numbing, face crackin' beating Rocky took, he screamed out for Adrianne. As Rambo's machine gun spat,"rat-tat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat-tat," I saw how much he loved a country that he felt didn't love him.

Isn't that what we are here for and looking for, in some way or another? My laughter has been mistaken for ridicule, when really it should be received as joy. Seeing my friends happy makes me happy, and more especially - seeing them in love gives me a reason to laugh out of an excitement for the joy I know they're feeling. Say Cheese! :-D

Food, Music, and Chatter!

Yesterday, I sat across the table from a very good friend of mine. I listened to the chatter our forks were making with our plates. I found myself amused when that chatter was overwhelmed by sounds of teeth sinking into pancakes. It sounded like we were picking wet sponges up off the floor. The breakfast was a delight, but was made the better when I took the time to listen to what my friend was saying. She said, "I have a really good feeling about this Will. You really should do that." I often marvel at the wisdom that faith exudes; the wisdom to believe what your heart tells you and the faith to know that it is more than a simple hunch.

The day continued, and we found ourselves at my Pastor's home playing music, laughing, telling stories and eating...again. My friend departed and I sat on the couch watching football and listening to the whirl of the vacuum cleaner as it searched out every mite of dust and loose pebble like a squirrel rummaging for nuts. My pastor sat in his favorite chair surrounded by his most precious gifts; their pictures adorned the walls above his head. His heart, his cherished muse, the punctuation to his success sat in front of him. They laughed, and they both giggled. They soon finished each other's sentences.

We were off, we had a movie and dinner to catch at a friend's home. We piled into the mini-truck, or lunch box with wheels as I like to call it and headed out. First, we had to pick up my friend. We opened the car door and she jumped in. Soon, the conversation turned to the gifts that my friend had received on past anniversaries. My friend belted out, "OMG, where can I find a man like that? A man that would do the same for me!" At the same time I thought, "Where could I find a woman that I'd want to do all of those things for?" A silence engrossed us all. I bowed my head and smiled.