The Message In the Music

The introduction.  The most difficult part of any story, blog post, essay, etc.  When I write these blogs, I spend an eternity trying to figure out how to start them.  Maybe it would be easier if I posted more often; it's been about seven months since my last post.  But as I've mentioned before, I like to wait until something meaningful happens that is worth writing about.  Our days are filled with small moments, most of which aren't really worth sharing with the rest of the world.  Today, however, I had one of those bigger moments.  One that I feel compelled to write about and share...with whomever may be interested.

I should probably start with a backstory, though any who've read my previous posts already know about it.  Nearly seven years ago, I endured perhaps one of the most difficult times in my life.  My mother, whom I adored, succumbed to cancer.  It was a long, hard battle for her - three years of radiation, chemotherapy, new medications, old medications, visits to the family doctor's and oncologist's offices, days spent in bed when she was too weak to even stand, countless times in the bathroom vomiting from the side effects of whatever new drugs the doctors wanted to pump into her system, losing her hair, becoming so thin at times that she looked emaciated.  To this day, I'm surprised she survived as long as she did.  Yet through it all, a part of me believed that if I prayed hard enough, she would be cured.  God couldn't possibly let such a wonderful soul like hers suffer for no reason.  I was wrong, and when she finally passed, I crashed hard, as did most of the family.
As the months and years passed after her death, I had friends and family tell me of dreams they had where they spoke to Mom.   They relayed stories of seeing Mom in their dreams, and the sense of calm, peace, and (maybe most importantly) closure that they felt afterward.  Some would tell me of specific moments when they felt, even knew, that Mom was there.  A sound, a whisper, a slight breeze through their hair, some small event that told them beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mom was still with them.

I, however, wasn't so lucky.  After Mom passed, I never once dreamed of her.  I didn't hear her voice.  I didn't see her face.  As far as I was concerned, Mom was in heaven, which by itself gave me some comfort, but didn't give me any closure.  There were times where I thought "maybe", but nothing had happened which gave me definitive proof that she was there, at least nothing that I could see.  I often felt sad, thinking that Mom was taking the time to make her presence known to others, but not to me. I talked to her many times, sometimes asking her to show me a sign, hoping that she'd somehow hear me and do or say something to remind me that she hadn't completely left me. In the time since she passed, I learned to accept what happened, but still felt hurt that so many others had their closure (at least they said they did), while I continued to struggle with my loss. It was only about two years ago that I was able to go to her grave site and tell her goodbye and that I was okay with her being gone.  That provided some solace, but deep down, I still felt sadness.  I wondered if I’d ever have that feeling of closure and if the wound in my heart would ever truly heal.  I wondered too if I’d ever have that feeling that others had, that feeling of just knowing she’s around and still watching.  Today, I got my answer.

While getting ready for lunch, I climbed into to my Escape, trying to figure out exactly where I wanted to go.  The town where I work has so many culinary pleasures in which to indulge that the task of simply choosing a place to eat requires an extra half hour of contemplation before lunch even starts.  As I was sitting in my SUV, thinking and listening to my stomach growling in its usual low bass tone, a song popped into my head:  God Exalted Him.  I’d not heard that song for a very long time, and at the moment, I had no idea why it came to mind.  Once the title was there, I immediately felt that I had to hear it again.  If I did nothing else the rest of the day, I had to hear that song.  I fumbled with my cell phone, hastily pulling up You Tube and frantically searching the phrase “god exalted him”.  Luckily, there are a few gospel music aficionados out there who like the song well enough to post videos of it.  I pulled up a video of three young girls singing a very nice three-part harmony of the song.  I sat back in the driver seat with my eyes closed, letting the sounds of soprano, mezzo-soprano, and alto voices wash over me.

As the main chorus approached, I felt myself getting choked up.  I struggled to fight back the emotion welling up inside me.  From nowhere, I felt a wave of sadness, but it was somehow mixed with catharsis.  Music has always been important to me, but to be so affected by a song was, needless to say, shocking and a bit embarrassing.  Why did I suddenly think of this song, and why was it hitting me so hard?  I continued to listen, and my mind drifted to Mom.  

While Mom was still alive and before she became ill with cancer, she and my father were members of a choir called The Queen’s Vagabonds.  They were a magnificent group, and they performed numerous gospel songs, each rendition rehearsed into utter perfection. Listening to their singing was pure joy for me, and their repertoire was quite extensive.  One of those songs…was God Exalted Him.

I remembered Mom talking to me about that song years ago, and telling me it was one of her favorites.  She looked forward to every performance that included it, and when she watched videos of the performances afterward, she would often get emotional.  The four-part harmony that came forth through the members’ powerful voices was overwhelming, especially with that song.  One could say it was one of their signature songs.  The video I was watching on You Tube was good, yet didn’t compare to the beautiful tones of The Queen’s Vagabonds.  I continued to listen to the video, but in my imagination, I pictured Mom and Dad’s choir singing it.

That instant, while my imagination ran free, I had a sudden epiphany.   I thought about the many other times when I’d been busy at work or at home, and one of Mom’s songs would discreetly find its way into my mind.  I’d catch myself humming the chorus line, albeit not as well as Mom would’ve done it.  I’d finish the song and go about my business, none the wiser.  Until today, I shrugged off those particular musical moments as some random event, an errant neuron firing in my brain and bringing up some miscellaneous song from the dusty musical Rolodex in my head.  But today it felt different, and comparing this moment to all those others made them seem different too.

I figured out what those moments meant.  Mom was talking to me.  She’d been talking to me all along…through music.  Mom knew how much I enjoyed music, and she also knew that I knew what her favorite songs were.  Anne Murray’s You Needed Me, The Carpenters’ Close To You, Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville’s All I Need To Know, and now, God Exalted Him.  All these songs and several others have crossed my mind at some point.  They’re not necessarily my favorites (even though I know the words), but I know Mom loved all of them.  Each time I caught myself humming them, it wasn’t a random thought.  It was Mom, reminding me that she’s still watching, and communicating to me in a way she knew I’d understand…eventually.  She’s always been with me, and she’s been trying to tell me so all this time.  I just wasn’t listening.

After a couple minutes, God Exalted Him ended, as did my emotional breakdown.  I put the Escape in drive and headed off to lunch.  The rest of today, I felt relaxed and at peace, though anyone who read my comments about work on Facebook would think otherwise.  The hole in my heart that was created by Mom’s death closed a little bit, and I knew that Mom was reaching out to me, just not in the same way that she’d reached out to others.

I might be delusional.  A strictly rational person would likely say those musical memories really are random, just a coincidence that I’m using to alleviate my sense of loss.  But faith isn’t rational, and love isn’t rational.  They exist in the soul, not the mind.  I have renewed faith that my loved ones are never really gone, and my love for them – and their love for me – never truly dies.  They will always be with me.  All I have to do is pay attention to the signs, be they a whisper on the wind, a stroke of good luck…or just a little song.

The Supreme Court Decision - A Disservice Unparalleled

Over the past few months, my stance on political issues has been somewhat silent.  I've posted a handful of articles on Facebook, and subsequently commented on others' posts, usually with some snarky response which, while meant to be amusing, still represented my true feelings about the subject under discussion.  After all, there is truth in humor - at least sometimes.  My biggest voice, however, has been at the voting booths.  I've watched events play out, while not as actively debating about them as I used to.  Certainly not because I've changed my opinion about any of this.  I'm as stubborn as I always was.  I've just attempted to avoid most controversy and negativity for the sake of my own mental health - a decision whose basis and reason is only known by a few of my closest friends.  (That, of course, is a subject for another time.)  But in light of today's events, I feel compelled to express my opinion(s).

Needless to say, I found today's events to be disappointing and frustrating.  To say I'm disgusted with the entire health care debacle would be an understatement.  I don't believe the previous health care system was perfect.  Denial based on pre-existing conditions, manipulation of premium rates, "selective" coverage - all those were items that needed to be (and still NEED to be) addressed.  I am not convinced, however, that this new health care law is the solution.  I am floored that some of the glaring flaws bound in the overwhelmingly complex document have either slipped past or been ignored by the Supreme Court.  I am annoyed that, rather than discuss the real nuts and bolts of the health care reform, the Supreme Court would rather play a game of semantics about a mandate not being a tax, a tax not being a mandate, or whatever other linguistic loophole they can hide behind.  I'm furious that the Supreme Court preferred to disregard each citizen's right to individual liberty by allowing such a law to continue existing.  Were it not for my intense love for this country, and the ideals and beliefs instilled within me by my parents, I'd be tempted to defect to another country.   (Yes, that's right Facebook/government spy committee - I said "defect".)

One of my first contentions is the ability of those in Congress and other roles of power to opt out of the coverage.  Those in these positions are supposed to be American citizens, and as such, should be subjected to the same rules and regulations that they set forth for everyone else.  If they're convinced this new law is for the betterment of America, then why would they feel the need to opt out of it?  What do they know that we don't?  When the question of coverage opt-out was posed to members of Congress over the past several months, I never heard any of them address it directly.  Why would American citizens be forced to have coverage if these people are not?  Based on the language in the document, not ALL these people are able to opt out, but "Congressional staff who work for Committees or Leadership...are exempt, as are White House staffers." (excerpt taken from http://gerlach.house.gov/hottopics/congressmyths.htm)  If the law applies to all other citizens, why do these specific individuals get an exception?

The forced coverage is my second contention.  I will admit that I haven't read the document front to back, nor have I hired a lawyer to interpret its insanely long and wordy pages.  Doing so would likely cost hundreds of hours or thousands of dollars.  My understanding thus far, however, is that citizens will eventually be forced to carry medical coverage.  While having medical insurance is certainly a wise choice, the fact is that it should remain a CHOICE, not a requirement.  For the government to say we don't have the option of carrying or not carrying coverage is a direct assault on our personal rights.  Furthermore, I've heard people say that we DO still have a choice.  We don't HAVE to have insurance.  My argument to that is: What about the fine imposed on people who don't carry coverage?  (Try to call it a tax, mandate, or whatever word makes you feel more comfortable - it's a fine.)  If we are still being given a choice, then why does the government feel the need to impose a negative consequence?  It's like telling someone that, if they don't go out with you or drive a car of which you approve, you'll kill them.  That doesn't sound like a real choice to me.

The whole concept of so-called health care "exchanges" is yet another issue with which I'm not comfortable.  It appears that these exchanges would include government-sanctioned health plans from which American citizens could choose.  It might be a great idea in theory, but the fact that the GOVERNMENT is deciding what does and doesn't qualify as an acceptable plan seems like a perfect example of the principal-agent problem.  The government is helping provide insurance, but they're also able to say what that insurance has to be.  Ultimately, you're still choosing a health care plan that the government created, whether you want to admit it or not.  This problem is further emphasized by the fact that the government will be providing its OWN health care plan.  First, they're telling other insurance companies what they can or cannot do, then they're coming in with their own option.  This whole scenario, in my opinion, contradicts the idea of free enterprise.  For those who may be uncertain of the meaning of that concept, here it is: 

free enterprise
Definition

Business governed by the laws of supply and demand, not restrained by government interference, regulation or subsidy. also called free market.

(Read more: http://www.investorwords.com/2085/free_enterprise.html#ixzz1z8OWl2gI)

If these private insurance companies are forced to comply with government-imposed rules and regulations, then this  certainly isn't a free enterprise, and isn't that one of the things that's supposed to make the United States of America so great?

The ability of the government to draw upon massive funds creates another issue.  The government has billions, even trillions of dollars at its disposal - much more than many other independent or publicly-owned insurance compan(ies).  In turn, the government would likely be able to offer its own health care plans at a much lower premium than other private companies.  Let's face it, the government has more finances upon which it can draw to cover expenses - beyond just the insurance premiums - while insurance companies have to rely more heavily, if not solely, on those premiums.  As more people move toward the lower premiums offered by government health care, private insurance companies will have less of those clients available, and will have to increase the premiums on their remaining ones.  In turn, more people won't be able to afford private insurance, and continue to move toward government insurance.  You see the cycle yet?

Then the real fun begins.  Once private insurance companies are basically pushed out of the market (if we can still call it that), the government will have created a monopoly, free to manipulate pricing and coverage at its own will.  (If I'm not mistaken, antitrust laws exist to prevent the creation of such monopolies, but based on one of my previous contentions, I think we've already shown that those in power don't consider themselves subject to existing laws.)  Those who agree with the health care law can argue that the type of coverage offered by the government is stated in the bill, and is set in stone, but if those people think that the current language in the bill won't change at that point, they're sorely mistaken.  The government is able to file amendments for a reason, and once they've established themselves as the only source of health insurance coverage, they're pretty free to do whatever they want with it.

I could probably spend the next few days debating and ranting about the reasons why I disagree with this bill, but I think at this point, I've expressed my more serious ones.  I've stated these in other forums, sometimes to voices of approval, sometimes to voices of dissent.  Yet for all those who disagree with me, I have yet to meet one person who has proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that any of my points aren't legitimate, possible, or factual.  The fact that the Supreme Court chose to ignore all these things is truly upsetting.  If they honestly considered my and other people's arguments that I've heard, then I don't understand how they could feel that the new health care law is Constitutional OR effective.  To think that we'd be tossed to the wolves (a.k.a. government) in this manner is very disappointing, sad, and disgusting.  The Supreme Court did a great disservice to the people of America today - one that is, in my opinion, unparalleled by any other decision they've made.   Not only have they infringed upon our individual rights, but also destroyed the concepts of free enterprise and personal liberty.

The Supreme Court has its own interpretation of what the health law says, but I don't agree with it.  Perhaps another issue with the law, however, is its unintelligible language that is far too open to interpretation, and thoroughly understood by only a select few individuals.  Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the health care law is so confusing.  It was, after all, conceived and written by a former lawyer.

Regrets

I finally got the inspiration to write another blog post.  I've been asked by a couple of people why I don't post more often.  I think it's because I don't want this blog to be filled with pointless babbling like some others I've read.  I want each of my posts to be meaningful.  I can't be sure they're meaningful to anyone who reads them, but if I'm going to take the time out of my schedule to write something, I want it to at least have meaning for me.  I'm not often hit with such an intense feeling or thought, at least not one so intense that I feel the need to express it extensively in writing.  But I had one of those thoughts today, so here goes.

I was thinking today about summertime approaching, and all the fun activities it brings - hiking, fishing, camping, etc.  There are so many great outdoor activities that families do together, teaching children the wonders of nature and survival, and building the bonds that keep families together.  Yet as I thought about those fun activities, I started to feel sad.  I realized that I didn't do any of those things growing up.  I thought about my childhood and the things I did do, or didn't do, and realized I missed out on a lot.

I had wonderful, loving parents who nurtured my education every chance they could.  While other boys' parents bought them BB guns and fishing rods, mine bought me math books and science games.  It definitely served its purpose - I graduated first in my class and I am carrying a 3.96 GPA in college.  However, looking back, I wonder if perhaps too much of my time was spent reading and studying.  I wonder if I inadvertently did more damage than good to myself by not participating in the basic outdoor activities that most children experience.
Part of me feels a bit resentful toward my parents.  I know that sounds harsh, but I never felt they had any interest in introducing me to the fun of family camping or fishing trips.  (I've been told that I did go on a camping trip when I was very young, but I don't even remember it.)  Then as I think more about it, I think maybe I should've said more to them.  I always wanted to do those things, but I never said anything to them.  I never asked them to take me out hunting or to a sports game, despite how badly I wanted to.  Perhaps the blame is more my own for not being a more outspoken child.  Furthermore, my father's health has never been very good the entire time I've been alive, and by the time I came around, he and Mom didn't really do that kind of stuff anymore.  It's understandable, but I wish I'd been born sooner and had the chance to do all those things while they still could.

I wonder too what effect it may have had on my relationship with my parents if we'd spent that quality time together.  I'm very close with my dad, and was close with my mom while she was alive.  I couldn't have asked for a home more loving and nurturing.  Still, I feel a bit empty knowing that we never had those particular moments together.  I remember being young and hearing my friends tell me about the fun times they had on family outings - sleeping under stars, reeling in that monstrous fish, having a father-son photograph taken while kneeling next to a ten-point buck, sitting by a campfire roasting marshmallows.  I never got to enjoy any of that with my parents, and in the subsequent years, I really haven't done them at all.

Now as an adult, I hear about my friends who do those activities, and I actually feel embarrassed to admit that I've not done them.  They seem like such basic childhood experiences, and I don't know what they're like.  When most people relate their stories of big campfires and nature hikes, I generally just nod and look away.  I can't think of any other person in my circle of friends who hasn't done those things, and it makes me feel very awkward, like some sort of oddball in the group - as if I need yet another reason to feel that way.

The only outdoor activity I ever had the chance to do was fishing.  That wasn't until I was about 14 years old, when my big brother started taking me with him.  Those were some of the most fun and relaxing times I ever had growing up.  They were short-lived, because my brother died when I was 18.  After that, it was over.  The friends with whom we did go fishing didn't seem to want to hang around me after my brother was gone.  Without the necessary equipment (I always used my brother's fishing gear), and without the access to fishing spots and boats (since I neither owned a boat, nor possessed a membership to any club that provided access to those areas like my brother did at Joe-Min lake), I had to give up on that pastime.  At that time, I even made it a point to ask if I could go sometime with those other "friends", but I guess I was just the little nerdy brother whom they let tag along because his big brother forced them to.  I'm not even sure I'd remember how to fish anymore.

What makes it harder is seeing my father's health declining.  It may sound ridiculous, but I've always hoped that one day he'd get better, to the point that he'd be able to do those things, and I'd be able to know what it's like to have that father-son time.  Or even better, have him be healthy while Mom was still alive so all of us could go.  I know now that it will never happen.

I had a good childhood, full of laugher and love.  I had everything I needed, and most of what I wanted.  (That itself may not have been a good thing, since I've been told I'm selfish - but that's another blot post.)  However, I know I missed out on a lot of fun being so studious and not being able to spend time with my family in the great outdoors.  Maybe I'd be a more well-rounded person.  I would've gladly skipped on homework or sacrificed a few A's on math tests if it meant I could've been out with my dad on a boat, or sat with my mother at a campfire.  I suppose I can still do those things, and I'd like to, but I wish I could've, or would've, done them sooner.

31,536,000 Seconds Later...Still Learning

Here we are.  Almost the end of 2011, and time for me to reflect on what the year has meant to me.  In keeping with the post I created last year around this time, I thought I'd write another list of what I learned.  The problem is, I discovered that some things I thought I learned last year proved to be untrue, or at least not always true.  Perhaps I didn't really learn anything.  More likely, I just thought I maybe knew something.

For someone like myself, who prefers dealing with certainties and absolutes, life can be very frustrating.  Maybe that's why I like math so much.  There's an answer, and usually a simple method for deriving it.  I don't know if anything about life is ever really that certain, and it annoys me.  Friends are confusing.  Family is confusing.  Life is confusing.  And no matter how much I'd like to, none of them can be explained through scientific algorithms and mathematical equations.  For each hypothesis, there's some person or event that doesn't fit, an outlier in the data that throws the whole study off.  The only thing I do know with reasonable certainty is that, when it comes to life, I'm clueless.

That being said, I figured it still might be helpful for me to once again write a list of things I think I know.  I'm sure by this time in 2012, some of the items on this list will be disproven.  But I suppose that's life - no definites, no absolutes, no indisputable truths.

1.  In 2010, I learned that cats are amazing pets.   In 2011, I also learned that they are the most evil, spiteful creatures that God ever created - but they're still lovable.
2.  Contradictory to what I thought I knew in 2010, the phrase "I love you" is meaningless.  It's all too often spoken to fulfill a social convention, not because of  true emotion, and....
3.  The ones who say they love you are the ones most likely to hurt you.
4.  I think life would be easier if I was a sociopath.
5.  Once in a while, people just need to vent.  They don't always expect others to solve their problems; they just need to know someone will listen to them.
6.  I have more acquaintances than actual friends.
7.  You can be surrounded by people, and still be very much alone.
8.  You can't always expect validation from others.
9.  In life, you only get one shot at real love.  I missed mine.
10.  When you're depressed, "happy thoughts" aren't enough, and people telling you to think happy thoughts makes you more depressed...and incredibly annoyed.
11.  When a friend asks if you're "ok", it's sometimes easier just to say "yes" than try to explain what you're really feeling.  Sometimes because you don't want to admit it, sometimes because you just don't want to bore them.
12.  I don't think anyone truly knows who I am.
13.  If it isn't broke, then I apparently haven't used it yet.
14.  Holidays don't mean as much to me as they used to.
15.  Discussions of politics and religion can form frienships, and can destroy them just as quickly.
16.  God does love me, even though I'm sure I piss Him off.
17.  Catholicism is more about control than faith.
18.  The wagon gets farther and farther away each time you fall off it.
19.  Countless interactions on social websites will never fill the void of loneliness.
20.  I don't care as much as I used to about what people think of me.  There's maybe only a handful of people whose opinion of me actually matters anymore.  (I'm still not sure if that's a good or bad thing.)
21.  Morality is more important than law, but since morality is subjective, it will never be a clear guide for society.
22.  Convincing yourself you don't want something is easier than accepting that you probably never will have it.

Comparing this list to the one I wrote last year, it appears that the things I discovered in 2011 were more cynical.  I could probably come up with a list of "happy thoughts", but like I said in my list, that would just annoy me.  I'm not interested in writing a list about puppy dogs, rainbows, and candy canes if that's not what I'm feeling.  If I'm anything, I'm honest.  Maybe things will take a different direction next year.  I hope so, because looking back, I'm not particularly impressed with the current one.

Not-So-Happy Holidays

Let's be honest.  For single people, holidays sometimes suck.  I'm not a buzzkill who doesn't appreciate a couple days off work, nor am I against spreading good cheer and peace.  But when you're on your own, special days like Thanksgiving and Christmas just aren't as great.
You see, there's a certain part of the holidays that invokes a feeling of "family".  I'm grateful that I do have family, but not in the traditional sense.  I don't have a loving wife with whom I can wake up on those days and see her smile.  I don't have children that I can watch as they eagerly barrel down the stairs, practically running each other over as they scramble toward the Christmas tree to open their presents from Santa, and subsequently argue about whose is the best.  I don't have a family of my own with whom I can share Thanksgiving dinner, then curl up on the couch watching TV and drinking wine while the kids play on the floor.  For single people, holidays can actually be a bit depressing.

I certainly don't begrudge others for their happiness.  Having a family, from what I've seen and been told, is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world, and I'm glad that most people in my life have experienced it.  But I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me felt a little jealous.  Hearing the fun things that parents are doing with their babies, watching families in toy stores as their little ones grab every possible item from the shelves, and look up with those loving, innocent eyes and sheepishly say 'please?', endless postcards with pictures of smiling husbands, wives, and children adorned in their cheeriest holiday apparel with 'Season's Greetings From the So-and-So Family' printed in bright gold lettering...it's all endearing, but also a bit painful.  It's a beautiful time of year...and also a stern reminder of what is lacking in my life.

I joke repeatedly about never wanting to get married.  I laugh about children being little spawns of Satan.  But those who are close to me know it's a facade.  I don't enjoy being alone.

It definitely hasn't been due to a lack of trying.  I go out periodically - different bars, different clubs, different social events.  I watch the human activity around me and try to find that particular woman who engages my attention.  I smile, I talk, I joke....and I fail miserably.  You see, I'm not exactly the suave, cool cat, lady killer.  I don't try to be.  (I've made the attempt before, and usually end up looking more ridiculous than I do acting like myself.)  It's no big surprise to anyone that I'm a geek - and I don't hide it very well in social encounters.

The range of responses is varied.  Some smile back, some maybe even talk for a few moments, but I can usually tell by the look on their face that they'd much rather be somewhere else - perhaps in a dentist chair getting a root canal.  And then there are women who just laugh.  Not a genuine laugh inspired by something funny that I said.  It's more of a 'how-can-someone-like-you-possibly-think-you-have-a-shot-with-someone-like-me' laugh.  I'm almost ashamed to admit that it's happened, though I'd be even more ashamed if I admitted to you just how many times it's happened.  And then, after a night of rejection and disappoinment, I end up being the single loser who sits at the bar discussing current events with the bartenders, who are even less interested in talking to me but do so out of a job-related obligation and hoping that I'll tip them graciously.  (I usually do tip them.  I appreciate their willingness to take a few moments out of their busy evening to chat, even if it is against their will.)  In the end, I come up empty, with nothing to show for my night's endeavors except a lighter wallet, and occasionally a killer hangover.

And then the holidays approach.  A joyful time to be close to the ones you love.  Yet for all my attempts at making a true human, emotional connection, the only face I see when I wake up is that of my cat Finnegan, and I sometimes think his affection for me is only contingent on the fact that I'm the person who feeds him.  He's a cat.  He'd likely be just as affectionate to anyone else who fills his food bowl.

My holidays aren't completely empty.  We spend time together as a family at my father's house, laughing and sharing in the spirit of the season.  But even then, for those who have a family of their own, I listen to them as they regale us all with stories of waking up that morning and having breakfast together, going to church together, and all the things they plan to do together afterwards.  And I know that, at the end of the evening, I'm going to be alone again.  (Maybe that's why I never want to leave when I'm invited to others' houses...but I digress.)  I'm truly happy for them - but also a bit annoyed at hearing it over and over each year, and having no such tales of my own to share.

Every year when the holidays roll around, I'm reminded that I've failed yet again to find that special someone.  My age chronometer has tacked on one more number, and I have nothing to show for it in regards to finding my own family.  Each time, my hopes of discovering that joy and happiness diminish.  I haven't given up completely, but I think I need to stop trying so hard.  Doing so just disappoints and depresses me even more.

I've been told that everyone has someone who is meant for them.  I don't really believe that.  I believe there are men and women in this world who are not meant to experience that emotion - and I'm starting to think that I'm one of those people.

What Is a Friend?

Life has been a bit complicated lately.  I've been dealing with personal issues - some trivial, some pretty serious.  It's nothing new for anyone; that's just how life is.  I'm not sure you could really call it "life" if it didn't include some struggles (though I wish some of those struggles were a little less intense, or would just go away).  I've had a lot of time to analyze myself, but more than just that, I've had time to analyze the people around me.  I've looked at what my relationship with each of those persons really means.  I've learned that friendship can't be clearly and adequately defined in a dictionary.  There's so much more to it.

I'm a list person.  I make a to-do list almost every day.  I figured, rather than a long-winded essay about what friendship means to me, I'd write a list.  Some may agree or disagree with my list, but it's what life has taught me.  By typing this list, I'm also not suggesting that friends and family are mutually exclusive.  This list applies to both...at least to real friends and real family.

1.  Friends are there when you need them, but they're not psychic.  You have to reach out to them.
2.  Friends can accept that what might seem trivial to them can be a big deal to you, and they're willing to treat is as a big problem...because it matters to you.
3.  When you have a friend, no problem is ever really just YOUR problem.
4.  When you have a friend, no pain is ever really just YOUR pain.
5.  Friends don't dismiss you.
6.  When you're concerned about bothering someone, friends don't just say "you're not bothering me" - they actually mean it.
7.  Friends know when, and when NOT, to make a joke.
8.  Friends may not believe in your choices, but that doesn't mean they don't still believe in you.
9.  Friends will help you when you want it, and they will force help on you when you need it.
10.  Friends know that sometimes the best thing they can do for you is give you a swift kick in the butt.
11.  Friends know when you're not being completely honest, no matter how good you are at hiding the truth from others.
12.  Friends will do favors for you and expect nothing in return - but that makes you want to work that much harder to pay them back.
13.  Friends are without pretense.
14.  Friends understand you, and in the rare instances that they don't, they'll make the effort to try.
15.  Friends know the importance of actions over words - friends don't always say "I love you" or "I care", but they make it apparent in what they do.
16.  Friends want you to be happy, even if it might somehow conflict with what they want.
17.  If someone is going to be your friend, you have to let them be your friend.
18.  Friends can hurt you, but if the friendship means anything to either of you, you will find some way to work things out.
19.  Friends may not always like some of your other friends, and you may not always like some of their friends.  What matters is that YOU are still friends.
20.  Friends will listen to you, even when it's something they don't want to hear.
21.  Friends aren't afraid to tell you something YOU don't want to hear. (goes with #20)
22.  Friends don't tolerate your eccentricities; they love you for them.

And perhaps even more importantly,

23.  Friendship can't be a one-way relationship.  For all that you receive, you have to be willing to give.

And with all that being said, I think I'll have a drink - and raise a small toast to all of those who are my friends.

Dear God

Dear God,

It's been a long time since I've had a sincere conversation with You.  I'm not sure where to begin.  So much time has passed since we last spoke.  While I'm sure You're quite aware of all that's been happening, I haven't taken much of that time to speak to You.  I'm not even sure what to consider this - A prayer? A conversation? An affirmation? I'm not even sure if writing this will have any impact on You, considering the gravity of all Your other concerns, which far outweigh any of my thoughts or problems.  All I know is that it's time we spoke again, and time for me to clear the air.

I've been angry at You.  I've been angry at You for a very long time.  My brother's death, my mother's death, my father's and grandmother's various illnesses, the bad luck that seems run rampant in my personal life off and on, watching the ones I care about suffer, and knowing that You have the power to make things right, but not actually doing it  - they all have made me question You...made me doubt Your true intentions, not only for myself and my friends and family, but for humanity as a whole.  I've wanted so badly for You to change something, to remind me again of why I believed in You so strongly as a child.

I've felt betrayed and abandoned by You.  I cried out to you many nights alone, but heard nothing in return.  I felt no reassurance that You were there listening.  I asked, albeit arrogantly, for some proof that You were still with me, but felt no peace of mind.

I've been disappointed and hurt by Your unwillingness to reach out to me, despite the times I did find the courage within myself to ask for Your help.  Though I never stopped believing You existed, I didn't trust You.  I didn't believe that You would really help me if I needed it.  Too many moments of pain and sadness blinded me to You.  I didn't feel that there was anything You did that made a difference in my life.  The only satisfaction I could find in life would have to come from me.

I blamed You.  There are things in everyone's life that are out of their control.  Things that just can't be changed no matter how hard they try.  For all those things, I blamed You.  And I didn't want to accept the graces You did give to me, because I knew in my heart that they wouldn't last.  That something would take them away, or there would be strings attached.  I blamed myself for most things too, and through that blame and self-doubt, I found even more reason to be angry with you.  For putting things in my life You knew I couldn't control, and that You knew would hurt me and make me hate myself even more.

I convinced myself that, though you may have an influence in other people's lives, You weren't a part of mine.  I convinced myself that I would pray to You to help others, but knew better than to ask You to help me.  I convinced myself that I was better off just doing it on my own...and that I was better off without You.

For a long time, that mentality worked...until recently.

I can't blame you.  I can't be angry at you anymore, even though it's a basic human emotion, and I've been told I have the right to be angry.  I've been angry and hurt for too long.  I've compartmentalized my emotions and feelings, and have started to recognize them for what they are - a distraction from the truth.

I've had even more time, in the darkest moments of my mental and emotional anguish and depression, when I cut myself off from the outside world, to realize that...it was never You.  It was me.  I was the one who doubted You.  I was the one who abandoned You.  I was the one who stopped listening to You.  I was the one who disappointed You.  I was the one who hurt You.  All the times I thought You didn't care, it was really me who stopped caring - about myself.

You never did leave my side.  You were always there - in a friend's kind words or gestures, in a family member's warm embrace.  You were never gone.  I just didn't want to see it.  Or maybe I just couldn't see it.

I realized that there are people who care about me, people who do love me, even if I couldn't seem to love myself.  And I realized, all that time, it was You.  You made these friends who they are, and You brought them to me (or brought me to them) knowing that I would need them.  And they carried out Your will.  They helped me cope.  They helped me understand.  Ultimately, they helped me survive.  Not just with my recent problems, but all this time.  You put these few wonderful people in my life, because You loved me.  I asked for Your help so many times, and You provided - through them.  Through the greatest and simplest of gestures or deeds from others, in the greatest and smallest of words, You heard my cries, and you answered.

I've also realized another truth - I miss You.  In youth, knowing and feeling Your presence in my life made me stronger.  It made me more at peace, even when things were impossible.  Since I've been away from Your grace, I've been searching endlessly for something that would fill the void.  I've tried in vain to find something else to make me whole again.  I'm surrounded by the love of friends and family, and they've made my life beautiful...but I can't really feel complete, because You're not there.  I've turned my back on You - the One who was there from the moment of my birth.  The pain in my soul at times is unbearable, and the only thing I can find that's causing it is Your absence.  Not by Your choice, but my own.

I need You in my life again.  I need to feel the happiness, security, and joy that I found in Your presence.  I need to feel complete.  I can't make it through this life alone, and I am filled with joy that You gave me the friends I need to make it through.  But I need You too.  I can no longer pretend that I'm better off without You.  I know that's not true anymore - it never was true.

I guess my next step should be apologizing.  You've given me good things, and I've attributed them all to blind luck or my own perseverance.  But it was You helping me, and I never thanked you - at least not as much as I should have.  I let my anger and disappointment with life's occasional pitfalls obscure my vision of You.  You don't always stop bad things from happening, but You do provide the strength that is needed to endure.  For all my blame, for all my anger and resentment, for all the doubt, and for all the hatred...I am sorry.  Sorry that I ever turned away from You, and sorry that it has been so long.

I'm making the effort to come back to You.  I know You've always wanted to be a part of my life again, and I haven't let You - but I need to.  I can't guarantee that the transition will be instantaneous.  I still have many thoughts and emotions that I must sort through.  But I know that none of those are Your fault.  If our friendship is going to be whole again, I have to take the first step.  I have to let You back in.  I have to believe that You're still with me, and that Your methods aren't always crystal clear.  I have to look a bit harder for them.  I want Your mercy and grace in my life again.

I've missed You so, and I can only hope that You can forgive my doubt, and hope that there's still room for me by Your side.  I want to...no, I need to be in Your glory again.  I'm coming back to You, my Savior, my Rock...if You'll have me.

See you Sunday,

Josh

Incomplete

Time once again to write.  I've tried to verbally articulate what's going on with me, but it appears that writing is the only way I can express it properly.  Even now, the words seem to be a jumbled mass, but my mind isn't in a very clear and concise state right now.  This is what I have...

I've spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking about my life.  What I'm doing, where I'm heading, who I am.  I don't know what prompted it.  Perhaps it's turning 31 and hitting a premature mid-life crisis.  Usually, my thoughts are congruent and easy to organize, but this recent influx of emotion has left me depressed and uncertain about my future.  I go through the daily motions - eat, sleep, work, take care of the cat, clean the apartment, do dishes, do the laundry, go grocery shopping, pay bills, watch movies...but it doesn't matter.  I feel like nothing I do right now matters.

In truth, I feel empty.  Incomplete.  My existence seems meaningless when I put it into perspective.  I don't feel the happiness and contentment I once did.  I don't feel like I have a purpose

I've made changes in my life to try to cope with this feeling.  I'm on medication for the issues I've had in the past, though I'm not sure anymore if that actually cures the problem or just dulls it.  I didn't care for my last job, so I got a new one.  I love what I do now, but it doesn't make me feel whole.  I moved to a new apartment so I'd be closer to work and in a bigger city, but discovered that the intensity and "go go go" mentality of city life is more draining than satisfying.  I started a new diet recently, but even the knowledge that I'll be healthier (and hopefully look a bit less like a slob) doesn't give me any comfort.

Once in a while, I go to friends' houses, where I have a great time, but almost feel depressed when I leave, because I'm going back home...to nothing.   I'm sure many of my friends have wondered, "Is he ever going to leave?", but it's in those moments, surrounded by others, that I finally feel like I don't have to think about what's really going on inside my head and heart.

I don't know what's happening to me.  I feel lost and don't really know what direction my life has. I have friends to whom I talk about what I'm dealing with, but I don't know that they really grasp how intense my feelings are.

Most of the time, I feel very alone.  That's probably my fault.  I tend to withdraw when my life gets complicated, not wanting to burden anyone else with my problems.  Goodness knows that all my friends and family have their own issues to deal with.  But what catches my attention is how "full" their lives seem.  They have meaning.  They have ambition.  They have happiness.  Perhaps it's not right, but seeing the joy that they have makes me feel even more alone.

I'm not sure what needs to happen or what I have to do to feel whole and feel alive.  Maybe I need to change my medication, yet again.  I've thought that maybe I need to find someone with whom I can start a life, but if I'm not happy with myself, who am I to think I could make anyone else happy?  I just know that the way things are now isn't going to work. 

Hypocrite

While most of my blogs are usually in an essay or narrative format, I felt like taking a different approach this time.  The typical structure just didn't seem to work.

We all know these people...

HYPOCRITE

You sit around and wonder why
The world just won't take your advice.
You got the cures to fix their lives,
But they don't hear your endless cries...
'Cause you're a hypocrite.

I've heard your rants, complaints, and groans.
A constant stream of hate, you moan.
They need to change that thing or this,
But there's something that you missed...

You're a hypocrite.
Talk out both sides of your face.
Hypocrite.
This is not the time or place
To be spouting all your rants.
Want me to listen - I just can't.

Think you've got it figured well.
But you're the one who's needing help.
Keep your bitching to yourself.
You make me sick, if you can't tell,
'Cause you're a hypocrite.

So you want to tell me now,
What to do, where, when and how.
That your ideas are all right,
I beg to differ, 'cause you might
Just be a hypocrite.

The real damn issue is not me.
It's just your inability
To take the time and look inside.
If you did then you would find...

You're a hypocrite
Telling me to change my ways.
Hypocrite
Your thoughts don't matter anyway.
You have no more room to talk,
If you just won't walk the walk.

If you insist on throwing stones
From the glass house that you own
One day you will end up alone,
And the fault is all your own.
'Cause you're a hypocrite.

Watch the world just go along,
Thinking that you're never wrong.
You tell me I should be ashamed,
But you yourself have done the same...

Hypocrite
Now it all seems much too clear.
Hypocrite
My deeds reflect just what you fear.
That you can't face the real you.
All the bad things that you do.

Instead of changing your own life.
You just point out what's wrong with mine.
You can't accuse me of a crime
You commit time after time.

(Hypocrite)

I'm so tired of this game.
Find someone else to take the blame.
You're in such a sorry state,
'Cause it's yourself you really hate.
The jabs and comments are a bore.
This is my own life; it's not yours.
I'm not the problem here, you see,
Don't pin your fucking shit on me.

HYPOCRITE!

It Ain't So Bad

Let's be honest.  This week kind of sucked.  No, not sucked.  It was complete and utter BS.  Yeah, that about says it.  Here's a recap...

Monday I was by myself in customer service at work.  Typically, I work with another individual in that department, and between the two of us, we stay relatively busy.  Not 'beat-your-head-against-the-desk' busy, but busy enough.  For the most part, we have decent customers - simple issues, easy solutions.  There is only the occasional person that has a real serious problem and wants to be a hard-ass about it.  You know the kind...no matter what solution you offer, it's not good enough.  They just call to complain as much as they can to whomever they can, and try to get every last bit they can out of you until you're so frustrated you have to put them on hold before you launch into a tirade of vulgarities.  Yeah, that kind.  We don't have very many...until this week.

It seemed like every possible bad customer we had wanted to call on Monday.  Actually, last Thursday through this Monday, since I was on my own all three of those days.  Nothing but incessant bitching and whining, asking for impossible things, cursing unnecessarily (at least I thought so), and just being downright mean.  Enough to make you want to kick a baby, as one of my friends puts it.  Don't get me wrong; I do love my job.  This is just that one part for which I don't care, and I had the brunt of it for three days.  I really didn't even want to go in Monday knowing that I'd possibly have to deal with those people, and I was right in my assumption.  And that was just the start of it...

Tuesday I called home to talk to my father, and found out that my grandmother was just taken to the hospital.  Thankfully, it wasn't a long stay.  Just overnight.  Too much heat, and a touch of pneumonia, which is easy enough to take care of.  But it still was a bit of a slam I wasn't expecting, and certainly didn't help my mood for the week.  On to Wednesday...

My computer dies, at least my desktop.  No 'goodbyes', no 'thanks for the memories'.  It just ups and dies on me. Press the power button...nothing.   And of course, it was the one night of the week that I was supposed to have a meeting with my friend/business partner on Skype.  Texting him back and forth, he found a solution that worked...for about three minutes.  The computer breathed life anew, then right as he tried to call on Skype, my computer just shut itself down, and again I couldn't turn it on.  (I think I may have called it a 'hateful bitch' at some point.  I can't really remember.)  My friend then suggested it might be my motherboard, as did a couple of my tech-savvy co-workers.  Oh goody!  I am now the proud owner of a $3,000 PAPERWEIGHT!!!

But wait.  There's more, yes indeed.  Wednesday was a big ol' one-two punch, my dear readers!  (I say 'dear' because I know not many are actually interested in my chatter, and I appreciate the few that are...)  Anyways, what was I saying?  Oh yes, the second punch.  In the midst of working, I lost a computer file, a very important file, one on which I'd been working for several weeks.  Just gone, like my desktop at home.  I couldn't find it anywhere.  I'd recently transferred files from my desktop to a company laptop, and apparently one of the files decided it got tired of being updated every day.  So, weeks of work, mostly gone.  I have bits and pieces of the information scattered in other files, but this was my magnum opus - the compilation of all my research.  Needless to say, I was just a teeny bit miffed. 

(I suppose there was a third punch with another personal issue - but one which I don't really care to share here.)

Thursday offered a little reprieve.  Customer service calmed down over the last couple of days since my co-worker returned.  Even better, my business partner completed the cover page to a comic on which we've been toiling for quite some time, and it turned out quite nicely!  I felt like the day went much better than the previous ones...until I went to the gas station and saw that the engine light on my Escape had turned on.  My vehicle was in the mechanic's shop twice already in the last four months, and incurred $1,700 of repair bills which I have yet to pay off.  Now I had the prospect of tacking on even more to that outrageous credit card bill.  Yay me!!

Sleeping on Thursday was impossible.  I may have gotten two hours at best.  The week's events tumbled around in my head over and over.  Frustrated would be a mild term compared to what I felt.  We've all been there.  You know, when you just want to grab the first stranger you see on the street and beat the ever-loving shit out of him, for no good reason other than to release some of the pent up aggression and aggravation that has built up inside you?  Ok, maybe that's just me, but I'm sure you all know how it feels.  Thankfully I have friends who help keep my spirits up, but I was tired, and I was pissed.  I woke up this morning (Friday) wondering what the heck else life would throw at me.  Little did I know...

Today started like any other day - walk in, say good morning to the few co-workers who show up as early as I do, stick a bagel in the toaster oven, grab a soda from the company fridge, then sit at my desk and boot up...this time just waiting for something to go wrong.  I opened my customer service e-mails hoping there weren't any more all-caps rants calling me 'incompetent' and 'stupid'.  (Yes, I've been called those, and sometimes worse.  Gotta love people!)  But I wasn't ready for the e-mail I read...

A female customer was requesting a return.  Simple process - issue the return number, fill out the e-mail template with the instructions, and click send.  I'd done it a hundred times, and it didn't seem like a big deal...until I read on.  Her husband had actually made the purchase a couple weeks ago, and intended to request the return himself.  That is, until he died.  The customer, now a widow, was trying to get the return taken care of because her husband hadn't gotten around to it.  He'd had a heart attack last week, and he didn't survive.

I was dumbfounded.  I stared at the screen for several moments, not knowing what to do.  Like I said, I'd processed returns many times, but for those moments, I forgot how to do it.  I stared at the computer screen, and even read the e-mail again, not sure if I'd read it correctly the first time.  Part of me felt a bit uncomfortable.  This woman was a complete stranger, and I'd suddenly become aware of a very personal and tragic detail of her life.  Oh God.  What do I do?  Why did she even tell me that?

After I snapped out of my trance, in a move uncharacteristic of my normal routine, I actually called her to confirm receipt of the e-mail.  I try to avoid direct personal contact as much as possible at work, for the simple fact that I don't want to deal with jerks.  But I had to speak to this woman.  She was very pleasant on the phone, and I explained that I received the e-mail and would be sending her the return instructions very shortly.  Speaking to her, I thought about what my father went through when my mother passed away, and imagined how she must be feeling right now.  I kept the discussion professional until the end when, before hanging up, I told her, "I'm so sorry."  I just blurted it out without thinking.  There was a brief pause, broken by a quiet and somewhat timid "Thank you".  I worried that my offer of condolences may have upset her, but she soon followed with, "Have a good day."  I couldn't answer - how do you tell a recently widowed woman to 'have a good day'?  I hung up the phone and sat for a couple more minutes.

Why did I get that customer?  And again, why did she feel the need to indulge such personal information?

I realized why...because I needed to hear it.  As I told you earlier, this week sucked.  One thing after another.  This morning, I was ready to run head first into a brick wall.  Could it get any worse?

Well, yeah...it could. I spent the rest of the day thinking about what happened during the week, and how I let it get to me so badly - and also about how I wanted to write about it on my blog.  ;)  Life is tough - no doubt about it.  And this week stressed me out.

But I thought too about that woman, someone who had just lost the person with whom she'd swore to spend the rest of her life.  I can't begin to grasp that concept.  When I first moved into my apartment, there was a moment one evening when I though my cat had run away, and that was enough to send me into panic mode.  (Of course I found the devil wandering around the apartment hallway upstairs...little bastard.)  This poor woman has to deal with a lot more pain and stress than I felt then, and probably more than I've ever experienced.  Her life has become much more difficult than mine is, and she has to deal with it alone, without the love of her life.  (It's a big assumption that they were in a happy relationship, but I'll assume it, both for the sake of this blog and for what I'm trying to learn.)

What must it feel like to lose a spouse?  I remember thinking that when my mother died, and now I'm thinking about it again.  More importantly, is my life really that bad compared to what she's going through now?  Granted, even now, I'm still a bit irritated at how this week has turned out, but that single e-mail and phone call really put it into perspective.  The week was bad, but it wasn't that bad, and I'm sure whatever hardships I have to deal with in the near future aren't going to compare to those this woman will face.  I'll be fine - I can't say the same for her with any certainty.

Once on an episode of Reba - yes, I'm a GUY who watches Reba...deal with it - the main character was serving dinner at a homeless shelter, and was feeling down because her family wasn't with her.  They'd gone other places for the holidays.  Then she thought about the people in the homeless shelter and how bad they really had it.  One of the guests, the real Santa Claus (at least a guy who claimed to be the real Santa Claus), said:  "There's always someone who has it worse than you.  That doesn't mean that your pain doesn't count." 

Maybe that's true, but I'm not counting my pain quite as much anymore.

Crisis of Faith

It's been some time since I posted on this blog.  Life has been good, but not really monumental enough to make me think so much, until now.  I logged in this evening, believing that the words would flow forth like a stream.  But sitting here now, I don't know where to begin.  I usually don't have a hard time putting thoughts into words, but in moments like these, I'm terrible at it.  I generally like to organize my thoughts before I post anything; it's just the perfectionist in me.  But I'm confused this evening, and every attempt I make at planning out this post seems in vain.  I guess all I can do is just type...

My uncle passed away this morning after a long battle with pulmonary fibrosis.  It was horrible watching yet another family member slowly passing away, and knowing that there was nothing any of us could do to stop it.  It seems like that has happened far too much in our family.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, my mother...too many people who've had to deal with horrible illnesses.  We've had family members whose passings have been sudden, and I wonder sometimes if they're better off.  Not that I don't miss them; I miss all of them dearly, but I think the fact that they were spared from pain and suffering is a good thing.  Yet with each of their deaths - both the sudden and prolonged - there's an inner struggle that gets harder each time.

We live in a world of terrible people: murderers, rapists, drug dealers, etc.  Only a few minutes spent watching television or reading the paper reveals the horrible demons that exist in the minds of men and women.  With so many disgusting people, I can't help but wonder:  Why are good people made to suffer, and why do good people die?  It's a question that parents try to explain to their children, as my father tried to explain to me when I was younger and anyone I cared about died, but I have yet to receive a definitive answer.  I know it's an unlikely scenario that good people would live forever.  The planet couldn't provide enough to support the human race if some people didn't die eventually.  But why, with all the horrible people in the world, do those who live a good life have to die?  That leads to another, perhaps more important problem.

How does one maintain his/her faith in such a world?  When something like this happens, faith doesn't seem to provide the comfort it once did.  Rather than comfort, I feel anger - anger that this supposedly benevolent Creator would allow good men and women to suffer so horribly.  And after such a long struggle, their lives are snuffed out, like their fight didn't mean anything.  It's not the first time I've questioned my faith.  I've done so on several occasions, and I usually find my way back to it.  But when I finally feel that I'm comfortable with trusting God, this happens, and my faith is once again shadowed by doubt.

People have tried to explain these things to me in different ways, and I dismiss each explanation.  None of them seem good enough for me.  Like I said before, I'm a perfectionist, and I like having answers.  But I've tried over and over to make sense of suffering and good people dying, and have yet to find one explanation that makes perfect sense and is acceptable to me.  I've heard from atheists and Catholics, the entire spectrum basically, and no one can give me the solace I need when a loved one dies.  I learn to move on of course.  I'm not the one who died, but I still don't have an answer.  The worst part is probably that faith becomes more and more elusive each time our family has to go through this.  It feels like my faith is hanging off a bridge, and I'm holding onto it with a rope.  Once in a while, I lose my grip.  I'm able to grab the rope just in time, but each time, there's less and less rope to hang on to.  Eventually, I wonder if that rope will slip through my fingers, and I really will lose my faith completely.

I still want to believe, but it's just not as easy as it was.  If God is truly benevolent, then I don't know how pain, suffering, and evil could exist.  I've been told it's not my place to question His plan, but not questioning the unknown goes against my nature.

Maybe God doesn't exist, or if He does, maybe He just doesn't care as much as we want to believe.

Class of 2010. Instructor: Life

Good grief.  Two months since I made my last posting.  I didn't realize it had been so long!!  Time really does have a way of getting away from us.  That was even more evident at 3:00 this morning, after just celebrating yet another New Year.  For a moment last night, I thought, "Didn't we just do this??"  Each passing year seems to move more quickly.  A year was such a long time in my youth.  Every 365-day countdown to my next birthday, Christmas, or New Year's was endless.  The thought of "a whole 'nother year" was like climbing Mt. Everest.  There was no way I could wait that long for anything!  Now, at 30 years old, a year has become a brief moment.  The time that seemed so unbelievably long in my childhood now exists much the same as an apparition - it's there, then it's gone, and you're left wondering if you ever really saw it at all.

Sitting here at my computer, I've been contemplating the vision that was 2010.  So much to experience, in just the blink of an eye.  Another chapter has been added to the story of my life, and a full one at that.  Each year teaches us new lessons, but I can't say any other year has taught me as much as this one.  I was listening to a friend's music show last night, and one of the members in the chat room posed the question: What did you learn in 2010?  It was quite a loaded question, and while I provided a brief answer, I spent the rest of the show thinking about it and knowing that I couldn't possibly summarize 2010 in a simple, one-sentence response.  Trying to do so would be like writing a one-page book report on War and Peace.  (As a side note, I would NOT recommend reading that book.)  Since I enjoy writing so much, I figured the best way for me to understand what happened this past year is to make a list.  Not a list of actual events, mind you, but rather a list of what I learned.

1.  People are who they are, and any attempt to change them is a worthless endeavor.
2.  True friendships don't fulfill your wants; they fulfill your needs.
3.  Proclaiming one's strengths takes far less courage than admitting one's weaknesses.
4.  You can't set the expectations for your own life in terms of another person's life.
5.  You'll never make everyone else happy, despite your greatest efforts.
6.  It's okay to put yourself first.
7.  Your job is never worth your health.
8.  God DOES give you more than you can handle, but He also gives you friends to help carry the load.
9.  Life really IS black and white.  Dealing in "grays" is just a way to avoid searching for the real answer.
10.  The only problem with humanity is humans.
11.  Politicians are like professional sports players - overpaid and underperforming.
12.  Others' actions are out of our control; our reactions are completely under our control.
13.  Cats really are amazing pets.
14.  I don't always like myself, but I do always love myself.
15.  Telling someone you love them, or hearing them say they love you (even as just a friend), can sometimes be the best thing you or they will ever hear.
16.  Forrest Gump's mother was perhaps the wisest woman that ever lived.
17.  Self-respect is emotionally priceless.  Self-loathing is emotionally expensive.
18.  You're never really over the loss of a loved one until you actually tell them "goodbye".
19.  Sometimes, you just need to shut up take your medication.
20.  Yes, men do cry, and if it bothers someone - tough.
21.  Movie critics are the worst people to listen to when deciding which movie to watch.
22.  I.Q. is a pointless measurement.  People with high I.Q's can be some of the most idiotic people on the planet.
23.  "Just" one more never happens when you're an addict.
24.  Chiropractors are the best doctors that have ever existed.
25.  Sometimes the person you trust the most in your life will be the first one to betray you.
26.  You should ALWAYS have a friend who is a mechanic.

And perhaps the most important:

27.  I'm allowed to not be perfect.

Quite a list, wouldn't you say?  Some of these may seem pretty obvious to anyone who chooses to read them, and perhaps they are, but I'm a stubborn man, and I think it took the events of 2010 to finally drill each one of them into my head.  I hope that 2011 can teach me just as much, though I also hope it can do so a little less harshly.

Happy New Year!

A Brief Shining Moment

Before a star collapses, it swells up to several times its normal size, then in a massive explosion, it's reduced to a black hole, devoid of all matter and light.  That's kind of how I felt yesterday.

For the last two weeks, I've been working.  It was a great feeling; being back in the workforce made me feel alive again.  It was through a temp agency, but I was told that the position had the opportunity to grow into a full-time position.  Finally, after weeks of searching and countless resume submissions, I thought I'd found the right job.

The people were amazing.  Though I'd only just started, everyone there treated me like I'd been there for years.  All of them were pleasant and willing to help me out as I struggled through the training process.  The work itself was even better; I was finally doing exactly what I liked - accounting.  While some people find numbers and reports mind-numbing and tedious, I love them.  It's what I'm good at.  The last two weeks lifted my spirits more than they had been for a long time.  But alas, it wasn't meant to be.

Late in the morning yesterday, I was approached by the accounting manager who informed me that, instead of hiring me, they were going to do an internal transfer.  The individual they'd chosen, not surprisingly, had a degree.  I won't lie; I was devastated.  Here I was on cloud nine, feeling that everything was getting back to normal.  But the cloud dissipated, and I fell back to earth - hard.  I struggled to maintain my composure as she explained the situation to me, but the only thing going through my mind at that moment was "damn you".  How could this have happened?  I worked so hard the last two weeks, and learned every task they taught me.  Even the woman who trained me told me again and again how well I was doing.  Foolishly, I'd convinced myself that I had the job.  To realize in that instant that it was all for naught was very upsetting.

The drive home last night was somber.  I fought to keep my mind on the road as I weaved in and out through the incessant waves of traffic.  I wondered what I'd done wrong.  They saw everything of which I was capable, and still decided not to hire me.  What was wrong with me?  I hated to think that I wasn't good enough.  I started having the self-doubts that I fought against so hard when I first lost my job.  It's amazing how quickly a person regresses to their old habits when something bad happens.  Kind of like trying to quit smoking...

My feelings then turned to anger.  I was furious at this company for putting through so much.  Two weeks I spent laboring at their facility, trying desperately to prove myself to them in the hopes that they'd want to hire me.  Looking back, I could've spent those two weeks searching for a job that actually went somewhere.  Before I took the position, there was another job opening in another town for which I was waiting for a call back from the temp agency.  They'd already sent my resume.  But when this opportunity came up, I jumped on it.  I couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if I took that job instead.  I guess I'll never know the answer to that question, because that job is no longer available.

Then there's the unemployment issue.  After working for two weeks, my benefits are suspended.  Going through the hassle of applying once was bad enough; now I have to do it again.  And even worse, I have to wait the standard two-week period before I can get benefits again.  On top of the mental and emotional blow of not getting the job, I now had financial concerns to worry about.  Of course, I always worry about that, especially on such a small income afforded by unemployment, but now I have to plan ahead to survive through that period again.

I vented my frustrations on Facebook for a while, and even punched a couple walls in my apartment, leaving a bit of a dent in one of them.  (Nice, there goes part of my security deposit.)  I felt useless again, like I was once again a statistic and could make no contribution with my life.  It may sound extreme, but those who've been through unemployment know what I mean.  I have to work if I'm going to feel whole, whether it's for a company or for myself.  The novelty of being home all day by myself has worn off fast.  Some days I just leave the house and walk for hours, just so I don't have to sit there pondering about the uncertainty of my future.  For a while last evening, I hated my life, and I hated myself.  My brief shining moment had ended, and I was back at square one.

But after several hours of venting, cursing, and feeling hateful and rejected, something changed.  I don't know if it was the pills I'm on, or the good advice of my friends on Facebook and texting me on my phone, but I realized that this is just another learning experience.  It's a difficult one, to say the least, but sometimes necessary.  I can't always have everything I want.  No one goes through their entire life constantly winning.  I have to lose once in a while, no matter how hard or painful it might be.

I also know that just because it was a good job for me, it doesn't mean it was the best job for me.  Maybe God had to give me a little taste of what's out there, not so I could start working right away, but to renew my search and assure me that I'm on the right track.  I do still like accounting, and after this two-week refresher, I'm even more certain of it, and I'm convinced to try even harder to find the right place for me - if it's even possible to try harder; I've been a resume-sending machine!

I'm not really sure if anything in life goes 100% as planned.  Bumps and hiccups, setbacks and disappointments, failures and frustrations - they're all a part of life.  But as I've been told by countless people, it's how we deal with those situations that makes us who we are.  I'm still figuring that out as well, but I do know what I'm not - I'm not a quitter. I'm not going to be a victim of circumstance and believe that my life is decided by the events around me.  If I want to be happy, only I can make it happen, and sitting on my backside lamenting over the disappointments in my life just won't get it done.  I'm better than that.  I'm stronger than that.

Ok, time to start applying for jobs again.  Either that or write my next English paper.  Nah, looking for a job is still more fun than that.