Lake Crazy Love

I got up early this morning, and after picking up a friend made my way to our destination to begin walking and talking. After we got out of the car, agreed on how far we’d walk and found a good pace, during the conversation my eyes would dance between her excitement and the flurry of activity that was right in front of us. Bugs were scratching their legs and filling the morning air with song. The small birds that hopped along in the brush were excited to hear it; you could see it in their bounce. The air was full of tiny insects that looked like a school of fish in the quick direction changes and the miniscule circles they synchronically weaved their way in and out of. The ducks left trails of wonderful overlapping patterns of water. We heard shoes shuffling the blacktop, wheels being cranked by pedals and roller skates, yes roller skates carving up the road. All of this was pleasant, all of it tranquil, all of it surreal and all of it pleasing. During our walk, and after we laughed at ourselves, for moving at such a quick pace, my sight found the grass that had folded on top of itself on the lake’s edge. It lay as if nature were going to make a huge basket that held fish and frogs, ducks, birds, insects and small boats looking for treasure. I took a closer look and when I did my heart filled with joy.

I read a small piece of a great book today. In the book, the author Francis Chan made the assertion that our lives matter not. It will not matter tomorrow, if we were to die today, what car we drove, how much money we made, whether our clothes were fashionable and if we had the latest gadgets. What would matter was how that life, when lived was lived and if we had ever really lived. I can say for myself that I did not know what living was until I experienced first hand and came to appreciate the love that I’ve received, been privy of providing and found myself wanting. How much more I have truly experienced living as I’m coming to realize that my life is not worth living until I’ve lived for the one who lives to love me. I pray that as the water rescinds and my life draws to an end that people will be able to look on the shores that my lake touched and know that God’s love was there - that’s kind of crazy huh!

Read “Crazy Love” by Francis Chan.

1: Good Grief!

There is nothing as humbling as being in a situation where you find that being brought down off the proverbial perch of self-righteousness is both unexpected and unfathomably needed. So was the case, this weekend, for me - I was humbled. I found out that I have a tendency to "talk" too much, to not ask enough questions, to find pleasure in self-deprecating humor, and to think the worse of a situations end before I am even aware of the beginning. I also found out, after listening to a wise-cracking, genius of a witty man's sermon, that happiness can only be attained when life is being lived in service to purpose. How many people truly know what their purpose is? How many people, who know what their purpose is, embrace the realities that come with being dedicated to a craft, a practice, a life that is beyond them? I know for a fact that relationships, hobbies, classes, minuscule fulfilled goals are doing absolutely nothing to quell the feelings of restlessness that are running in my mind like millions of fleas in a small jar. When I'm sleeping, I wish I was awake. When I'm talking, I'd rather be listening. When I'm playing, I feel like I should be working, and when I'm waiting, I feel as though I should be doing. I feel like a child being told to sit still when everyone else is at recess. I believe these "feelings" come because I've yet to realize my purpose, although my girlfriend has been kind enough to present me with a couple of ideas. Ideas that I had to listen to; she is right.

Where am I Going?

I've always thought of myself as a God-fearing man who lives his life in accordance to the biblical principles that I was introduced to as a young man and continue to subscribe to. When I hear a general consensus that my relationship with God is not what it was, I'm at first in denial, skeptical, somewhat disillusioned, confused, perplexed, then I begin questioning myself and eventually come to realize that some people have a point - I've let my OWN priorities overtake what it is God wants to do in my life. By keeping myself busy, I worked hard to not have to make time for what he may be asking of me and felt that if I pursued my own interests at full throttle, he would eventually get in line with what I want for me. I don't believe there is anything wrong with pursuing dreams, but dreams need an anchor. There needs to be something that that hope is rooting in so that if you meet with disappointment, you have a base to spring from. When my hope, and faith is in God, there is a soft landing for rejection. When my hope and believe resides solely in me, the landing is a lot harder and it takes longer to bounce back. I've been humbled of late and have come to realize how much I've missed spending time, alone, with God!

Wishing Wells

...I wait.

There was a shuffle of feet on the sidewalk. It sounded like smoothed out sand paper rubbing a shiny stone, his footsteps were gentle and well placed. Every check his foot made against the ground was followed by the click of his cane. He was a tall man, thin, and very systematic in his movement. Nothing he did was without purpose. I couldn't help but stare at the hat that wore, quit similar to ones I wear - a driving hat. It was black and tucked neatly underneath it was a field of gray swaying stalks that darted from the hat and hid behind his ears. He was humming an amazing song, glimpses of which I was able to pick up. Yes, I knew it well; humming "If it had not of been" he reached into his pocket and removed a shiny quarter and looked over at me.

I stared back and wondered what secret, if any was resting behind those story filled eyes. He continued to hum and began rubbing the quarter between his fingers.

"What did you wish for young man," he said to me.

"Good question," pausing I told him, "I haven't figured it out yet."

"Oh, you've got to know," his cane clicked on the ground and he tapped the edge of the reflecting pool that held many hopes and few dreams. "Why else would you come to pool unless you've plans on making a wish?"

"I think wishing is a waste of time," I said as I grew uncomfortable with him moving closer to me.

Flicking his coin into the pool, "Look at how it twists and turns on the way to the bottom. My mom used to tell me that the ones that merely glided to the bottom didn't churn the water well enough to create magic."

Raring my hand back to drop my coin into the pool as well..."Stop!" he yelled. "Don't throw your coin in yet, you've not told an old man what it is you're wishing for...

Wishing Wells for Veterans?

Sometimes I wish that when I stood in front of a wishing well rubbing a shiny quarter between my fingers that the "ploop" noise the coin makes as it spins and twirls its way to the bottom was the beginning of a wish coming true and the end of worrying about what I was wishing for. You see, I'm the kind of guy who's played a game for a certain amount of time. If I were an athlete, well I am, but not a professional one, I would not be considered a rookie and I would not green. I've played the game just long enough for people to consider my talent a waste as opposed to potential. I would be considered a veteran; crafty, aware of the rules and a master at bending them. Some would appreciate that, but others would not. I for one am not one who appreciates the craftiness I've brought to the game. The only person who has been fooled is me. The coaches, the other players, the staff at the organization see my dodging of the rules as indication that I don't believe in their message. They see all the loses that could have easily been wins and wonder where they failed. My opponents sit in locker rooms laughing, jeering, smoking cigars and bathing in the champagne bubbles that were meant for me. Instead of standing in front of a wishing well and casting another coin full of a wishes for somebody else to make me what I know I should be...

Those Beautiful Birds

When I wake up early in the morning, start scratching that yellow stuff out my eyes, pat my lips together to realize that that smell is my breath, pull the covers back and hear the birds sitting on the edges of branches, with their chests full of air, their heads thrown back, and their tiny bird voices singing loud enough to fill an amphitheater, I want to shout, "Shut the hell up! Can a man get some peace and quiet." Dag, I'm glad I don't live on a farm or else I'd have to listen to a rooster and eat Corn Flakes for breakfast. Whatever happened to that cereal by the way? It was nasty. It was as mushy as overcooked oatmeal as soon as you added milk.

I'm an 80's baby and had so much fun looking up the old shows I used to love as a kid: Airwolf, Streethawk, The Misfits of Science, The A-Team, The Flash, The Greatest American Hero, The Fall Guy, BJ and the Bear; that was a bunch of fun. I loved how Airwolf, the super secret military chopper full of all kinds of ordinances was sitting in a cave in Arizona or something and that this chopter was performing global missions but nobody knew where it was. In the 80's, I don't think they spent much time trying to plug in plot holes. For example, the Streethawk bike would reach speeds of 300 mph on city streets - that rider would have had to of been a better rider than Valentino Rossi and I don't see that happening.

The Lakers won by 40 last night and all I can say is, IT IS ABOUT TIME. Now that Nike is starting to air Kobe and Lebron commercials, would it be implausible to think that the NBA really, really, really wants that matchup - much like myself.

I haven't blogged in so long, my forearms are getting cramps from typing...LOL. I've been so busy that I haven't been able to play my guitar. I am sad that I have been practicing my Do, Ray, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do's and my voice still sounds like metal crawling down a chalkboard. If I joined those noisy birds in the morning, I could rile up the entire complex, "Shut up Man!" I was just kidding about the birds anyway.

This blog has been pretty random, but that's me. I'm a bit scatterbrained until I focus in on an objective, or truly until I have a hot cup of coffee. My pops always tells me that he can tell what is going on in my life by what I blog about. I wonder what he is going to derive from this one.

Oh, I went to Chick-Fil-A this week. The patrons were not persons of ethnic descent, which makes me think that they need to get that black lady out of the Popeyes commercials because EVERYBODY loves chicken! It is in every culture, every type of dish and can be up to 5 items at the buffet whether it's Hometown Buffet or a local Chinese food spot.

I've enjoyed reading everybody's blog this week. I have learned that it is good to sometimes revisit high school; read old poems, look at old pictures, read old goals, gauge where I am now compared to who I was and what I dreamed about then. I learned that judging others only makes me the fool. Every look of scorn, and disparaging feeling I have for someone who doesn't live up to my standards eventually amuses me when I realize that I can't even live up to my own standards sometimes. Lastly, relationships - they're only strengthened when time is spent together so today I'm going to send God an email.

It was Fun!

Fun. The only word to describe band practice last night is fun. I loved it. For the first time in a long time I got to sit behind the drums. I'm not the drummer I used to be, but it was awesome playing beats behind GK, George and JJ. Good times; even better, the angelic voice of the praise leader. I took a little time to look around the room and more importantly - to listen. JJ plays just like his personality. The guitar melodies weren't rushed, were laid back; seemed he was emoting with the instrument. They were connected like that. ME was serene and angelic. She played her guitar and sang, looking around at us to see if we were following her - yes we were. For GK, it's like there's freedom in her organization. She sets it all up in her mind before hand, sounds out the chords and then plays freely - singing, worshiping and seeming to stand in God's throne room. GK and I both seem caught up in everything that is going on around us. I always notice how smoothly he transitions from whatever song is being played to a very melodic rendition on the piano. It takes me back, immediately, to the feelings I had when the song was first being played. I loved it. I had much fun last night. Seems the band has been growing musically with new members, discovery of new talents and different teams. TD does a great job of allowing persons space to use their gifts - that is to me a sign of leadership. I'm gushing with excitement on what the future holds.

We Talked, and Talked Some More!

Here I was, at home on Easter Sunday with a few hours to spare until the Lakers game and without much to do. I love having free time, and I love trying to figure out how to fill it even more. My phone rang and it was my friend inviting me out to walk, chat and eat yogurt. What a delicious time it turned out to be. We piled into the car, or rather I got into their car and enjoyed the ride. Today the driver, to whom Danica Patrick would resent with her aggressive tendencies behind the wheel drove in a manner reminiscent of Morgan Freeman with Ms. Daisy advocating full acknowledgment of traffic laws - a lot of words to say slowly, but pleasantly a wonderful ride ensued. I talked, then vented, then laughed and talked some more. They listened, they laughed, they asked me questions and laughed some more. I don't know if their laughter was based off of the hilarity coming from my juvenile antics or if they laughed to keep from crying at the turmoil my soul has been living with of late. Regardless of why they were laughing, it was beautiful to hear it. It was like hearing music underwater - unexpected but surprisingly blissful. We stopped in a little shop and ordered a couple of yogurts. It seems cheesecake was the preferred topping and we sat by the window, and talked, and talked and talked a little more. We all did. We all talked and laughed and emoted and talked. I guess you can tell that we did a lot of talking, but to me the chatter was needed. It was like taking the old ink cartridge out of the printer. We had a few more jobs that needed to finish printing so we could put in the new ink. I guess being around friends does that. They're there to clear paper jams, to replace the papers in their original order and the make sure the original document isn't damaged. God writes what's on the pages and friends protect what is written therein. My friends did that for me today and I love them the more because of it. If I'd a glass of champagne, I'd toast continued love, happiness and peace. After our glasses clanged and the crystals stopped ringing, I'd thank them for always making sure the copy machine was full of ink, or rather when I'm low they lend a hand to help pick me back up.

Random Things...

Facebook is addicting, but even it gets tiring. It is just one more way, or many to impersonally stay connected. Sometimes I miss people just dropping by to say hello.

I spent a lot of time laughing yesterday; praising God in music is peaceful and exhilarating - I'm of the hope that I'll be able to play in heaven too.

Baseball season started yesterday - it's a summer sport, but to me it is just a placeholder for football and the start of next season for basketball.

Good friends are like Sourpatch Kids - sour and sweet!

2:14 and Starbucks!

So, this morning, I got up. I mean I got up really early. I wanted to get to work early so that I would be able to leave early, even though I would still be covering my usual 8 hours. I decided to get started on my reading for the discipleship course that I am currently taking at my church. I opened the book and as my eyes jumped from one word to the next, they stopped, transfixed on one scripture that would be most difficult for me to take to heart. What scripture and why? Well, let me start by saying that for those who know me, they know that I often have a comment for everything. If I want to do something, I feel the need to justify, although no one is asking for justification, my wanting to do it should be enough, I don’t really have to answer to anyone but nonetheless I’ll make comment, quite arbitrary in fact as to why I am and why I want to do something. For as much thought that goes into defending my wants, you should hear the thoughts that go into defending what I don’t want to do. I may murmur, roll my eyes, suck my teeth, sigh hard enough to dislodge a lung and stare into heaven with a perplexed look, “Why me?” or “Good grief!” I’d like to take a moment to pat myself on the back and admit that although I may get the adult equivalent of a tantrum, often called an attitude by today’s colloquial standards, I still do what I feel like is the right thing to do. But, I see that if I were to embody the scripture that caused me stop reading, my life would be more rewarding and I would be at greater peace with myself. In Philippians 2:14, the apostle Paul wrote, “Do all things without murmuring and disputing,” and immediately I said to myself, how the heck am I supposed to do that. I mean, do everything without complaining, or murmuring, or speaking my mind. In a word…impossible; who could do such a thing and why would they want to. Maybe I’m reading it out of context, maybe it doesn’t really mean to do everything…Oh, you see my dilemma, but I decided, after my mental complaint ridden tirade that I’d do my best to try and start living that way.



I got in my car and made my way to Starbucks. I wanted a grande Vanilla Latte so bad that my mouth was puckered and my senses were begging for a small jolt of caffeine. As I pulled into the line that was for the drive thru, I sat, patiently waiting for my turn. Given the layout of the parking lot, only one car may be in line behind the person at the teller or the order box. This creates an interested dilemma. Persons, in their vehicles may approach the small drive thru lane from the east side or from the north side of the building. This means that one person will have to make a left to get into the lane while the person approach from the south side may just drive in. Now imagine being desperate for a hot cup of coffee. I was next; it was my turn to make the left to go into the drive thru lane when a tsunami occurred to test my tempestuous sensibilities. In short, a woman parked her car, a man exited the store. She walked in front of my car at the same time as the man who was leaving the store, which opened; however slight an opportunity for the woman to my right to jettison her compact luminous BMW into the line in front of me. I roared, felt steam launching from my nostrils, felt my shirt starting to rip and noticed that my eyes had turned green. I was “Hulking” the…you know, I was really mad! It took me a few minutes, but I thought what harm has occurred as a result of this. How inconvenienced am I now. If I were in the same situation would I have waited for the people to pass before jumping into line out of turn...Well…No. I would have began murmuring that they were taking too long and would have jumped into the line while thinking it sucks for “them” that somebody walked in front of their car. Now if I could just figure out a way to tie this into what I was talking about earlier I would. Gimme a second…

They're All Against Me!

I amuse myself sometimes with how I think and how I react to things without thinking - despite the fact that I consider myself a "thinker!" It's funny because I have a tendency to think my friends are attacking me, or are against me, or don't want to see me succeed, when in reality they are being what a friend should be. I'll never "get over myself" per say because what goes on with me is important to me - isn't what happens to "you" important to "you" - but I'll learn to do and to act in a way that is settling for me. When you know who you are you can stand on the shore and let the waves crash into you. As the water rolls back and your feet get buried in the sand you find yourself anchored where you stand. As the waves continue to roll in, the water and sand around you moves, but you don't because you're where you need to be and where you want to be. But, sometimes a wave will come that's big enough to knock you out of your space, when it does, if you know where you should be standing next you'll be fine. If this doesn't make sense, my apologies. I'm sleepy and I'm going to call it a night early. Ciao.

Just $7.84

I had an opportunity to live missionally today and I missed. I let it pass me by, I'm guessing because I felt like a silent observer to the sadness playing out before me. Here I was in the food court of Horton Plaza, persons all around partaking on pretzels with mustard dipping sauce, cinnamon buns and hot dogs when a homeless man approached the food station I stood in front of. He held up his finger to indicate to the cashier to wait a moment as he reached for his money. He pulled out what looked to 5 or 6 bucks and asked the cashier how much the number one combo was.

The cashier said, "7.84."

The homeless man told him, "I will be right back."

Using one leg, he pulled himself away from the cash register. The kids, probably no older than 16 or 17, jeered and snickered to themselves as he rolled away. They laughed at him and mocked his appearance. I didn't say anything. I wished for a moment I could show them that so many of us, who live in a home, are one paycheck away from being in the same situation. I wanted for a moment to let the kids know that this man was still human, and despite his being homeless, deserved a chance to eat. I wanted to judge them for being so reckless with their taunts, but however brazen they were, I too was to be blamed. You see I had a couple bucks in my pocket and had just received an order for the very thing the man leaving in a wheel chair had just asked the price of, and while I sucked my teeth in disgust at the kids that were taunting him, I realized that I was the fool in the scenario because it was on my heart to help him, regardless of whether or not he "needed" my help, and I didn't do it. Given another chance I'd have tapped him on the shoulder and bought the meal that he didn't have the money to purchase for himself and would have walked away knowing that I did for others as I'd want them to do for me if I were in the same situation.

MUSIC!

During the summers, on many years past, my father and I would climb into the red van and make haste to a concert being played. We'd sit under canopies and under the stars to listen to musicians play music that tugged at their hearts. Music was an escape that we shared and music provided harbor for ships once on tossed seas. Tonight, as our conversation was ending, after we'd laughed, told jokes, reminisced on days past, and hoped for what tomorrow holds, I played the guitar as he listened, in support, on the other end. You see, he's more than my father, he is also my friend and my friend has always told me that flight is what teases my wings. As the turnaround was ending and my playing was done, I heard a beep on the line and my goodbye was said. I joked with a friend, and we mocked our day, I sent my dad a text, and his reply did my heart break, "Seriously it sounded good to a man who likes the blues." The practice is paying off because he's never held back, his truth was my truth because I never knew him to lie. He said I sounded good; compelled to make his words more true, I sacrificed my homework to play just a little more. Now I'm up and my eyes are burning, I've many pages to read and a couple more essays to write. All the while my guitar taunts my unrest, pleading for attention and a chance to expel my stress. Music is my "personal, private, vanishing evocation;" taking many forms and heard in many syllables. My guitar provides a means for my attempts to create while my father, with the oration of a man majestic and grand, speaks in a cadence to make a warrior feel weak. I miss hearing the music, on Sunday he plays, to audiences with hungry ears and needing souls. How blessed am I that his words fill my ears, and provide a nest for hope when I've not found it in myself.


(Quote from Sonny's Blues by James Baldwin)

So Early, but I'm Thankful!

I'm up early today. I got up, felt the air crack between my joints, pulled the covers back and was greeted with a gust of chilled air. The apartment is quiet, all except the steady silent roar of the water sprinklers. It sounded like those old WB cartoons when the dog would open a jar to hear applause from the fleas in his circus. I'm going to drive to work soon, listening to the radio, as I do, as I'm heading there. I'm going to hear more bad news...jobs lost, the economy worsens, inflated health care costs, billions of dollars to be allocated to businesses so they can cut jobs, collapsing banking infrastructures, sub prime mortgage crisis, fraudulent cases against security managers...all stuff to feel hopeless. I won't feel that way though. A couple of weeks ago I watched the football game, the Super Bowl, at a friends house. Prior to our leaving, his mother had us all stand in a circle. Before she prayed for God's blessing over our lives she said that despite the economic woes of the country, she remains optimistic and hopeful because her God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, that, in a time of famine, you still will be blessed with what it is you need. There was a time when I would not have ardently supported that claim, but today is different. I am going to drive to work soon, and that is reason enough to be thankful! It was not long ago when I woke up without a place to go.

Need I Say

There is something strangely comforting and eerily disconcerting about the escapism associated with a foray to the cinema. The curtains lower, and the lights grow dim, the crunching of popcorn is trumped only by the whispers of excited patrons. Eyes are lit up brighter than the screen and for a brief moment, the audience, the captive moviegoers, the participants, all along for the same ride, sit in unabated eagerness for the moving picture story that is to unfold. I am one of those parishioners of fantasy, the guy who twitches and laughs, and holds his breath and waits and cries and hopes that the developing idea on screen will be one I'm brave enough to hold onto someday. I was unexpectedly caught in a surreal moment this evening, as I watched the lights dancing and heard cell phones being turned off. The movie started rolling; annoyed, frustrated, bored, utterly apathetic were the majority of feelings that had engulfed me, empathy and a wish to dream again - freed me. I wanted, briefly, to have a fascinating story I could tell others. I wanted to be able to say that I knew this girl and it was this but it ended up like that, who knew that we felt that way about each other? But, the lump in my throat thickened and my breathing became short. My brow began to bead, darts of sweat raced to be the first to sting my eyes. Hands that gracefully composed sonnets in calligraphy and played chords that left my fingers twisted like speaker wire were full of sweat and unable to stop sprinting on my knees. I've not felt that feeling before so I don't know what to call it, but I liked having that feeling - it seems one I'd like to call again. I can imagine sitting in front of her unable to speak because her eyes are reading my secrets - that one written loudly on my face, the one I can't recognize, but everyone else that's had, you know, that look, knows it, is familiar with it and are enormously entertained by the enormity of what is about to occur, dare I say it? No, no, I'm going to keep playing it cool. I'm going to continue to act like there isn't a gargantuan ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. I'm going to incessantly ponder the what if's because the what could be's are scary, yet utterly exciting, but unnecessarily nerve racking, but grossly exhilarating and despicably fulfilling. Yeah...you know what that feeling is...you didn't even have to sit through 7 movie previews, the "Twenty" or tuck your legs in as people pass to know it because you live with it everyday. Psssttt...I will too! Really! I will.

The Saturday Breakfast Gibson Call

If you're having a problem, or are curious how about how to lose weight, teach a baby to read, be a positive thinker, become a house flipper, learn good investment strategies, improve your computer skills, or even use an indestructible knife then early morning infomercials are for you. I like that the common theme to all of them are, "We have real life testimonials; these people are not paid actors." Yes, yes, they don't have a SAG card, but I'm sure they're getting something out of it.
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Have you ever broken up with somebody? The other person hasn't really done anything to "deserve" your ending the relationship; in fact they've been quite good. They listen to you, love you and try their best to help you with your goals. But, because you're feeling as though it is too much or they actually expect progress or change from you, you decide to end it. Then, a month or two later you get a phone call from them. You pick up the phone with the obligatory, "Hello." You go through the small talk formalities asking and answering questions about how you've been and what you've been up to. Then you start talking about all of your new hobbies, and the things that you've purchased and the extra-curricular activities that you are now involved in. With all the extra time on your hands, not being with the other person, or being in the relationship, you scream how free you are now and how much you're enjoying your new life. All the while the person on the other end of the phone knows you're lying. They say, "The truth is, I called because I miss you. I miss you so much. Everyday, I think about you and wonder where you are and what you are doing. I sit around and hope that you'll open the gift I left you 2,000 years ago. I ask my angelic friends if you're ok. I called because I love you and no matter where you go or what you do, I will always love you." It's at that moment that the phone call gets weird. You start to remember all the things you did wrong in the relationship, how you felt justified for leaving, how you left to "search" for what you "really" wanted, only to find that what you really needed and wanted is on the other end of the phone. A real decision has to be made instantly, as you're left to ponder, momentarily, if you will reciprocate the openness and vulnerability that was just shared with you. You know that if you don't tell the truth, you'll only be the one who remains miserable, and you know that they will call you back. You decide, I'll tell the truth, "Yes, I miss you too. Do you think I could meet up with you this Sunday. I heard that you're going to be at church on the campus of UCSD. I hear that you spend time with people there during the week and you like to personally visit on Sundays; would that be cool with you?" They respond, "I'll be there. I will see you on Sunday."

Yeah, that has been my relationship with God lately. I've been trying for years to justify why I've not loved God the way that he loves me and I haven't been able to do it. Those phone conversations are the instances when I close my eyes to pray; He knows everything I am going to say and everything that I need, God just wants to hear me say it and needs me to believe what I know to be true; He loves me enough to send his only son to die for me - my belief in Him gives me eternal life and a chance to fellowship with Him eternal in heaven. Great stuff!
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I scratched an itch that I've had for a few years yesterday. I played my new guitar for so long yesterday that my fingers started cramping. I was at Guitar Center for 3 and 1/2 hours yesterday. While I was there a salesman approached me and said "Man, you sound really good. You must be into jazz; those are some beautiful chords." We started talking, a little musician small talk; what music he plays, who his influences are." Thinking the conversation was over he, I went back to playing an inexpensive guitar, as guitars go, that I was playing. He then said that he had a brand new, never been played before Gibson ES-335 in the back and that he'd like to get it out and let me jam on it for a while. When the guitar case opened it popped like a cold soda. Immediately I could smell the freshness of the wood and the lacquer needed to give it it's illustrious finish. It was lightweight, smelled earthy and felt smoother than silk and cooler than marble. I plugged it in, tuned it up and the first note nibbled on my ear lobe. My heart started racing, and my fingers kept playing beautiful note after beautiful note. Not surprising to the salesman, but unique to me - I was falling in love. But, just like all the things in life, there is a season for every change, and that guitar was for the winter of my life; I'm still in spring. I asked how much these go for and then started a conversation with another patron named Mike. He told me that he really shouldn't be in the store, but that he liked coming in on the weekends to jam on the guitars he dreams about owning. He said that he had a cheaper one at home, and the love for creating music is what kept him coming back. We talked a while on that; music is never ending for me - the better I get, the more I realize I don't know, and the more I want to know. Getting back to the guitar, I decided to let it rest. I placed the silk-like covering back over the guitar, pulled it back again, said my goodbye, then replaced the covering. I whispered a little secret and closed the latches on the case. It wasn't as hard as I thought to say goodbye, but it was motivating because I immediately knew what it would take to see her again (is it me, or do you find it pathetic that I just referred to that guitar as a woman? LOL).
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I had a lot of fun this weekend; played some pool, went to breakfast with some really good friends, laughed and told jokes, and played some guitar. Now, I've only need to worship my Lord and I look forward to doing that soon as well. Ciao.

44th President of the United States - Barack Obama

I cannot even begin to fathom the magnitude of today. With a declaration of "Yes we can," we all did in electing the first African American president in Barack Obama. Today as he steps into the highest office in these United States and the world, a time for prayer and celebration is at hand.

Yeah, yeah!

I find that excuses are no good; nobody wants to hear them and more especially nobody really cares if the excuses are to your own detriment and not to theirs. When it is all said and done, self conservation is the rule and sacrifice is the exception. I believe that is why Jesus, Ghandi and Martin Luther King JR are such significant figures in history; just to name a few.
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So here I am, again failing to continue progressing in my goal to lose weight. I've not incorporated the gym into my routine. I almost hate that I'm not thin naturally or rather that I've eaten enough to put me in a state of being unnaturally unhealthy. I ask that those who read this blog help to keep me accountable. I will have a progress report on Saturday; right now, I fear the results of the scale's readings.
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I spent a little time talking to my dad on Saturday; good conversation full of sage advice from a sound reliable source. Life, as he described is a collection of opportunities that we embrace or walk away from. I walked away from one this weekend. When I think about, I believe my fear of the unknown and failing to adequately prepare left me feeling nauseated and uncomfortable. I did not take into account the amount of commitment that was required - with that giving up was unacceptable, but expected when a decision was made void of consulting God through prayer. I hear all the time that we ask God to bless our will instead of asking God to bless us/me to do His will.
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Something Learned, Something Heard!

This has been a week of firsts. I learned what it means to be "baptized" in corporate America.

I also learned how to get someone's attention when it is perceived that they aren't listening.

I learned that talking about doing something, and thinking you want to do something isn't the same as desiring to do something and needing to do something.

I learned that "life-changing" decisions aren't to made emotionally; sometimes thinking it out is a good thing.

I learned that success is the measure of overcoming failure. I learned that good friends are hard to come by. I learned that if you want to accomplish a goal, it is good to have friends and family involved in your wishes - that way you have motivation and assistance in your pursuits.

I learned that I'm getting old and don't like to stay out late - that is unless it is with great company.

I learned that I'm so competitive that when I get involved in a game, any game, there's eye rolling, sneers, and "here we go again" expressions on everyone's faces...just kidding, but I know I need to chill out a bit.

I learned that for all the destruction, hatred and bigotry that exists there is the other side that makes it all worth enduring. I learned that this world is truly wonderful when you're surrounded by loved ones.

Vindication

Last year I visited some friends in Temecula. It wasn't long before we were all gathered around the television playing Guitar Hero. All the little kids and most of the adults ran up to challenge a guitar player. They crushed me, absolutely crushed me, in fact, I couldn't even get past an easy song placed on an easy setting. They were playing advanced difficult songs. I was thinking, "I really suck at this game," then I read a quote from Slash (i.e., legendary and innovative former Guns N Roses guitarist), "Being good at guitar doesn't translate to playing Guitar Hero. Actually, you can play Guitar Hero better if you don't play guitar -" vindication at last. Now the question is, would somebody else label me a "good" guitar player, LOL!

Today's Soundtrack

Today I ask that you take a short trip with me. Please turn off the television and sit in silence. If today, as I'd like to imagine it to be, were a soundtrack, it would've started like this:

Waking up, I'd feel a little distraught; a bad movie, a good fight, an evening to sleep off remorse for being unable to apologize:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ61DPVQAQs

Hooky would be on mind; a drive up the coast in a drop top, a cool summer breeze and tinge of remorse from skipping out on work. I'd be happy and sad, elated yet feeling bad; nothing like some piano blues to lighten the mood:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0wRfM-gcCA

I'd reflect on this one day, ironically enough, it was today when I found a blessing in the simplest of words delivered from the beautiful heart of my friend and sister:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c42zu4f_WeA

I'd arrive at my destination and popping the trunk on my classic car, I'd lift out a vintage guitar case with weathered latches, frayed edges and more stories than years that I had on this planet. Snapping the locks I'd remove my custom Gibson ES-137 hollow body guitar and I'd take the stage with my heroes; they wouldn't know that they were singing about my girl:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HcH-jmmaY7Q

I'd take a seat, grab a drink and let the next act hit the stage. Yeah, it would be a classic tune performed by a contemporary and a legend alike:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EoJUkF3r7E

My girl would feel a little antsy; I'd toss a glance to the band. The lights would dim and we'd begin to sway:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dG8giVJKQPI

We'd finish our dance; take a short walk on the coast. She'd share her dreams and I'd tell her of my travels. She'd want to go on a trip, to which I'd reply:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmQq6yLe2ww&feature=related

The night of dreaming has come to an end, as I walk her to her door, she doesn't invite me in but accepts my invitation for another night on the town. I'd grab her hand and whisper, "Thank you...in advance."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZQMYYFhLto

Getting in my car I'd drive off to hope I'd wake up another day with more dreams...

Thanks "Revolutionary Road..."

Every Sunday morning before church, I take a moment to put the television on mute. Currently it has been Boomer and T.J. that I'm requesting silence from so I may log onto www.postsecret.com. For some strange reason, I guess I'm a glutton for punishment. I want to find out if the pain others are enduring relate to or surpass my own. I was turned onto the site by an ex-girlfriend. On our first date, we went to a book store. We walked up and down each aisle until we found multiple Post Secret books. I marveled at the randomness...strangeness, uniqueness of all the entries. Some people talked about being racist against their own race, or secretly wishing some people would die, how they married the safe man, how they're Christians, but hated the idea of church. I read the secrets that people carry around but due to fear of uncertain reprisals, only feel safe in sharing their secret anonymously. I'm under the impression that we all have some, some worse than others, and most not even worth taking up time in a meeting to discuss, but nonetheless we all have them.

For me, I love watching movies. When I walk into the theater, I am of the mind that I am going to check out from my life. I am going to become the characters that I'm watching flicker in darkness. I am going to try and understand the message the director, the actors and the author of the screenplay are trying to convey. Of course the beauty in art is that the message is left to individual interpretation. I saw a movie tonight where courage was unceremoniously defined as conformity and radicalism, "outside the box" thinking was defined as lunacy. Strange then that the truth was that conformity is discombobulating and radicalism is courage. One character made the statement, "No one forgets the truth, we just get better at lying."

Are dreams truly attainable, or do they remain out of reach because the "truth" in why they aren't being pursued is so unnerving that the possibility of failure is unfathomable and disconcerting? It has been for me; after watching Revolutionary Road I'm asking myself what I will say about myself after a life changing experience? I am left to only surmising my mental state as being an optimistic realist - the reality of the dream doesn't often match the realness of attaining the dream.

The Only Time Failure is Permanent is When You Quit Trying!

Tomorrow, I am going to see myself in a video that tracks activities that have occurred at the place of worship I attend for the duration of 2008. The video is going to show the weight that I was at, and the weight that I am currently at. It is going to show that I have gained a significant amount of weight, in comparison to the same amount that I lost. I have gained back, to be completely candid 30+ pounds. I am disappointed with my apparent failure, but optimistic for what the future holds.

When I think about all of the things that I have lost as a result of being overweight, I am saddened, but reflective on the journey that has brought me to a point of knowing that I have to do something about it if I literally want to save my life. The funny thing about weight issues are that they are apparent. When you see someone that is overweight, they are stripped of any privacy when it comes to their failures. That can make for moments of feeling extremely vulnerable, feeling ashamed, wanting to hide behind bigger clothes and non-physical activities, and turning down and leaving behind dreams and desires because you don't feel like you fit in.

For every "overweight" person I've met, there is a story with their struggle. Their struggle is apparent, because the weight is often the first thing people see when they are seen. But thin people have problems too, not to play the thin-envy card, but every person living, regardless of age, gender, height, weight, orientation, religion, culture - has a vice, a struggle, an obstacle that prevents them from truly being all they can be or from truly enjoying all that they've worked for. I am no different in that regard; no different. When I am seen, you see my struggle. It has been food, but I refuse to let it win.

I am making a pledge; very public it is indeed, not only to myself, but to the readers of my blog - I intend to be here a long time so I have a goal of losing a "whole person" worth of weight in the next year and a half. I am going to check in periodically charting my progress. I am making my goal and then this blog will be the first in many to come where failure becomes success and what once left me feeling vulnerable will be the fuel to keep me strengthened and enabled. I am built to succeed. I have lost 5 lbs. this week, I've a few more to go. :-D

Root Canals and Mechanics!

I want you to take a short journey with me. It is my hope that when I finish you will understand the frustration that I am currently feeling. Imagine if you will the pain of a toothache. Your mouth is feeling numb, the pain thumbs in your mouth and reverberates all the way down you spine. The back of your neck throbs and the puddles forming in the corners of your eyes do little to ease the discomfort one tooth is causing to your entire body.

To end the pain, the be in relief, to again enjoy the taste of your favorite beverage and nuances of your favorite savory meal, you call your dentist. You meet them in the office and wait patiently for them to finish with whom they're currently seeing. Finally, you get to sit in the chair, nestling your head in the cup designed especially for the comfort of the patient. The dentist leans the chair back, turns on the overhead light, applies their latex gloves, covers their mouth, puts on their goggles, tells you to open your mouth, and they peer in using mirrors, and scrappers, and hooks only to tell you, "After looking at the X-rays and the inflammation around your tooth, I am going to have to do a root canal." You close your eyes and sit back embracing yourself for the upcoming pain.

Finally, the procedure is over, you get in your vehicle and go back home. After a couple of weeks, you get a call to meet your friends for a meal at your favorite restaurant to celebrate your recovery. On the way to the restaurant, your mouth begins to hurt again. You're nearly blinded by the pain as you pull into the parking lot. You then call the dentist to schedule an emergency appointment. After having paid for the first root canal, the dentist tells you that they pulled the wrong tooth, and asks you to pay for a second root canal. You think, "You must be out of your freakin' mind! Wha da hell are you talking about." Again the puddles form in your eyes and you try to access if it is a reflection of the pain you're feeling in your mouth, or the pain you're going to feel in your pocket.

That is how I feel right now, thanks to my *reliable* mechanic working on my car; to quote a friend of mine, "Freakin' A!"

Deluxe Stratocaster V-Neck

I played my dream guitar last night and I didn't like it. I was so disappointed. I had a lot of fun though. The night started when I felt spry, so I got up, put on my Kangol and hit the road. As I pulled into the parking lot, my windshield shined as bright as an angel's wings when Guitar Center came into view. I got out of my car and as soon as the double doors opened I felt like I was at home. I'm sure the elation felt by car enthusiast at a car show or chubby folk at a Vegas buffet is the same.

There were so many guitars; Fender's, Epiphone's, Gibson hollow body's, PRS. I started out on a Telecaster, nice, but not me. Then I played the Jazzmaster; loved the tone, but didn't like the feel. Next a Texas Fat Strat with one set of humbucker pickups, nice, but still not me. Then I called the salesman over and played the Deluxe Ash Stratocaster. It was absolutely beautiful to gaze at. The maple fretboard, the Abalone dot inlays. It was smooth and had a very rich tone. I really liked it but couldn't get my mind around paying the price that was being asked for it especially when I have a strat and I've already done some customizing to it. I put it down and then I played an Epiphone hollow body; that was it. I must've sat there for an hour or so falling in love with it. I even got two compliments from random strangers, they stopped and talked with me and even stood beside me to listen as I played; compliments are always nice. Having friends that will keep me grounded is priceless.

I told K and L the events that transpired at the music store, the playing the guitar, the compliments, the sweet sound of the guitar, "You know Will, they just work for Guitar Center and they only gave you the compliment so you'd buy the guitar;" consider me humbled! You know, I think K and L need a theme song; "K and L, K and L, that's what a friendship is...all about!" Maybe, "5...5...you only got 5 bucks!?!?!? (what's that about)" Anyway, I didn't buy the guitar. It cost a lot and I don't really have the money for it, but it is always nice to dream - that's why I bought a new pillow last night, I had guitars on my mind!

Just a Couple Ideas...

I had the fortunate benefit of conversing with a very good friend of mine via an email exchange. I asked her how she was, where she was, and how she was doing. She told me that she could see God in the faces of all the people that were around her as well as knowing that no matter where she is, she is at home because God is there with her. I have been marinating on that statement for a few days now. The deeper those words have sunk into my heart, the more I've come to know them to be true.

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How do you determine what you should let roll off your back and when you should turnaround and engage whomever or whatever angers or frustrates you? I think that it is a very fine line; each situation should be measured. I do not think that other people should be the target for any issues that have directly affected you. When life presses on your wishes and seems to be suffocating your dreams, it's those friends and families that love you that you must lean on just to save you from drowning.

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I hung up the phone after a short conversation with my sister yesterday and was left to only chuckle at the chaos that was developing on the other end of the call. She burst up laughing, nearly bleeding my ear with the suddenness of her joyous giggle. See, my sister's husband had a NERF basketball and tossed it to his son for him to catch. His little hands clasped in front of his face after the ball bounced off his head. He smiled and his little voice was full of happiness. At the same time, my sister tossed the ball she was holding in her hand towards her husband. It bounced off his head as well. As I heard the ensuing hilarity, I wished more than ever that I could have left my office and been there with them.

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I had the opportunity to attend Small Group last night at the home of some very good friends of mine. Surprisingly no games of Mexican Train dominoes, or Mah Jong, or RumiCube broke out. Instead we enjoyed a very thorough analysis of Nehemiah Ch. 1. M did a fantastic job putting the study into perspective as she provided an excellent contextual synopsis of the events that determined the model for the text. We discussed everything from pressing unresolved domestic issues as well as conflicts that are occurring presently in the Middle East. We resolved that prayer is an absolute necessity in such times; prayer for our country, and for the world's leaders as every decision they make impacts not only them but the world as a whole.

Life Changers

It is daunting at times to chose to explore a destination that you've never traveled to. It is even more intimidating when you realize that the territory is unchartered, that no man has ventured there before, and only educated guesses can be made regarding what will be seen and what will be found, what you will experience, what you will need, where you will hurt, how you will hurt, where you'll end up when the journey has concluded and most importantly how you will feel when it is over. I've made some life changing decisions. I want my life to be different. I have packed my bags, filling them with everything that I think I will need. I have secured communication devices (i.e., prayer) and negotiated binding contracts (i.e., accountability partner), I've tightened my shoes, secured my goggles, prepared my mind and landed at the start point with one purpose - to reach the end point (i.e., my goals) with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of hope (i.e., faith).

Mom and Dad

On New Year's Day, I had the opportunity to spend some time with my mom. She sat across from me and enjoyed her meal. She reminded me of a beaver that floats on their back snacking on fish and basking in the sun, except the sun was her son and the carefree approach was the blessing that time together has become. I looked over at her and smiled; amazing, she is truly amazing. There are times when I don't always think that despite my knowing it.

I find myself disappointed with her sometimes. She's said for me to reach for the stars, to go to new heights, to plunge into that reserve that I've neglected called determination and ride it to a new life. I've not done that to the extent I know I'm capable of. For every failure I blamed on her, or my father, I realized that they've already equipped me with the tools to succeed - should they be at fault when those tools aren't implemented.

As I walked to my car after our meal, I saw a young man with a shaved head, tattoos, a tank top and ear rings sitting on the curb underneath a small tree. What I heard coming from his mouth were utterances of a broken heart. His appearance did little to mask the transparency of the hurt that was spilling out of his mouth like a cold beer poured too fast. He sat there and said, "My parents aren't shit. I can't stand them." At the same time, I saw my mom getting into her car. Before she sat down she smiled so hard as to get her ears wet. I looked at the young man and then I looked back at her. I thought, I could never say that about my mom or my dad and mean it, I know they love me. I wished for a brief moment that I could trade places with the young man bleeding his heart out on his phone call. I wanted him to know what it is like to know you're loved and more especially to realize who loves him - mom and dad!

Walking Into 2009

Today is January 1st, the first day of a new year, and the first time that I am going to look forward with excitement at what is ahead instead of what has fallen behind. However, I am reminded of a saying that I once heard - in order to know where you are going, you have to know where you came from. So, I ask myself this question, where did I just come from?

The birds are singing outside, their small voices seem to be praising God for allowing them to see the sun rise and to be the first to be heard thanking God that it did. I don't hear traffic, the steady hum of cars passing on the freeway, I don't hear the click, clack of high heels scurrying to their cars, I don't hear car alarms beeping as they're turned off, engines running, lawnmowers chopping down grass - I hear birds singing. The birds sing every morning, but today their song is especially gratifying. I've felt like a child that sits brewing at hearing a "No" from his/her parents, feeling like the parent hates them, doesn't love them, doesn't care about what they've asked for or what they feel like they need, only to grow up and realize that "No", especially when they have the power to say "Yes" is probably the greatest gift they could give. They loved that child enough to say "No" but the child doesn't realize the power in that "No" until many years pass. After those many years, the child will sing the praises of their parents, with vigor the same as birds in the early morning. I find myself comparable to that child when I think about my relationship with God. I want to sing the song that the birds sing, but I've had trouble realizing the love in hearing "No."

I left a small gathering last night, and on the drive home, there were no incidents. The fog was heavy, heavy enough to cause me to have to use my windshield wipers. Heavy enough for me to have to slow down so I could see where I was going. I didn't want the speed of my car to exceed my visibility. Ironic, that the bible tells me that the word of God is like a lamp unto my feet. A lamp, at your feet only allows you to see just far enough to take the next step. It doesn't matter if you hold it up over your head and try to make out figures and objects many yards in front of you, your range of sight is limited. You find yourself having faith that if you keep moving, you'll reach your destination. I found myself realizing last night that if I wanted to get home, I had to keep moving. The fog was so heavy that even though I'd been home before, along the same route many times, I was required to drive slow enough to let the headlights provide a path for me to get home. I had to have faith that I would get there, even though I couldn't see the way. When did I stop realizing that God is the light that cuts through fog, illuminates the night and pierces the darkness?

I heard some of the most beautiful prayers in my life last night. I heard prayers from people who were so in love with God that tears of joy rolled off of their cheeks. I heard prayers of people so thankful for who God was in their life, who God is in their life, and who God will continue to be. I sat reminiscing on the days when I was that in love. It warmed my heart to see it and to hear it from my friends. It broke my heart to realize that I wasn't "feeling" it anymore. My dad would always tell me that he didn't care how I felt about doing something, if I was told to do something, I was expected to do it. When I went to grade school and was made fun of, my classmates didn't care about how their jokes made me feel, they continued on their unrelenting rampage of belittlement and ridicule. I learned lessons then that I feel like God has been trying for 30+ years to strip away from me...I reached into a box last night, after I'd prayed, "God help me to realize that my will is not your will. God help me to release this anger that has been building in my heart towards you." I held the card closer to my face, and it read, "The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer. My God is my rock in whom I take refuge. He is the shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold" (Psalms 18:2). I realized immediately, regardless of how I felt and how I was feeling that he was always there and always has been there.

The traffic is picking up now. It sounds like a steady hum of a tuba with an occasionally horn bellowing a single note. Big trucks, small cars and fast motorcycles are again sprinting around the freeways like bugs in a field of flowers. Life has resumed, life in California has taken off. People are busy getting where they "have" to go, and working to get what they "have" to have. It is easy to lose the ability to be patient with God and his way of showing love when you live in an instant world. Even the birds have stopped singing, but only momentarily. The only time I quit hearing them is when I quit listening for them.

So where am I going now? Where have I been and where am I going? What is the first thing that I am going to look forward to with excitement? Only the year will tell. I am thankful to have been able to see a new one begin, and even happier for what it holds. I am even more thankful for my sister taking some time to pray for me last night. I am elated that my friends "see" me and love me anyway. I am glad that I go to Experience Church; being a part of that family is one of the greatest highlights of my life to this point.

Some thoughts that I take into the year:

Having the ability for excellence but settling on mediocrity, is the equivalent of being lazy.

Nobody remembers losers, choose carefully where you want to win.

For everything you blame on others, some of the fault has to be at your own feet.

Life is a gift, treat it as such!

Bad memories always override the good ones, be a good memory for the people around you.

Learn the power of forgiveness, it will change your life when you learn how to forgive yourself.

We all want what we don't have...learn the value of what you do have, it may change your perspective on what you "think" you're lacking.

Oh, one more thing...in iTunes they have celebrity playlists. I'm not a celebrity, but here's the playlist I started my day with...

1. "Come On (Let the Good Times Roll)" by Jimi Hendrix

2. "Good Morning Heartache" by Billie Holiday

3. "And I am Telling You I'm Not Going" Jennifer Holliday

4. "Adore" Prince

5. "Audience of One" Big Daddy Weave

6. "City Boy" Keb' Mo'

7. "Sideways" Santana featuring Citizen Cope

8. "His Way" Den Q.

9. "Heaven" Los Lonely Boys

10. "Can't Get You Off My Mind" Lenny Kravitz

11. "Come Back Baby" Eric Clapton

12. "Healer" Hillsong

I welcome 2009. I cannot wait to see what this year holds. Like my sister said to me last night, this year is it's own; don't carry any pain or frustration that you had last year into this one. Believe that God is leading you down the right path, be patient enough to follow His leading...how did she get so wise?