So I’ve been thinking about the girl a lot. The girl I wrote about last time. Nicole.
I have grown up quite a bit over the past 2 years. I feel like the same person deep down – the same shy, not-quite-so-confident, nice guy that I’ve always been. I’ve always known how to act – the difference between right and wrong.
But I’m so much more grateful. I have been lucky beyond anything that I deserve and I have come to a point where I can appreciate that, cherish it, and tell it to those that have had a part in it. I’m more passionate. I was once in a place where “Rely on no one, be affected by no one” was my personal motto. Literally. I read that quote in an issue of Sports Illustrated, tore it out, and pinned it to my wall at college.
No longer.
Nicole loved me. Even though she knew I wasn’t going to say it back to her, she said it to me. And she showed it. She showed it while we were going out. She showed it while I was pulling away. She showed it, even, while I was being a prick.
I have been granted the love of 2 women. And the way I figure it, that’s 2 more than a lot of people get in their lifetime. And even though both of them are in entirely different places now, no words can possibly express how deeply thankful and blessed I feel because of their love.
The night that Abby and I danced out in that gazebo – she spoke words to me that simultaneously broke my heart a little as well as uplifted me.
“It would be so easy to fall in love with you, Jonathan. But that’s not where God wants me to go.”
Oh, I cannot describe to you how devastated I was. At the time, I was so sure that we were meant to be together. However, that was not Abby’s purpose in my life. Her purpose was to start me on the journey back to my Father. I was ruined, but at that moment, I also knew that I was dancing with someone who I didn’t deserve to dance with, and so I should soak in the moment just as much as humanly possible.
Similarly, I now see much more clearly just how amazing Nicole was and is still. Part of me cannot help but wonder whether all of this will come full-circle. We’re in vastly different parts of our lives right now. But what if?
What if we couldn’t be together the first time because we – or rather, I – simply had some growing up to do?
I came across a picture the other day of her and I. A few years ago, at my sister’s wedding (and yes, Nicole did catch the bouquet). In the picture, we’re dancing. Her hand in mine. My arm around the small of her back. Noses almost touching.
And we’re off to the side, almost as if in the picture by pure accident. It seems as if the picture wasn’t supposed to be of us, but somehow, that moment simply had to be caught.
Frozen in time by Fate.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Monday, January 23, 2006
Old Rockers
So this is gonna sound weird because I’ve never listened to a single song by this artist that I can recall.
But Neil Diamond’s new CD – 12 Songs – is one hell of a record.
My dad introduced me to it over Christmas break. He said all of these old rockers are hitting mid-life and getting sentimental. They’ve spent their lives looking all over for the meaning of life. For Truth. Peace. Love.
In many ways, I feel like I’ve already had my mid-life crisis. It’s odd, really. I’m only half way there in terms of years, but considering all my life experiences, I feel far older than my years suggest.
Perhaps it’s a curse. Perhaps it’s a blessing. But I feel like I know exactly what Neil is singing about. It’s been a long and winding road that has led me thru the first 25 years of my life. I am unsure of where the road takes me now.
Of how it will unfold. Will it unfurl straight out in front of me for as long as I can see? Or will it take a sharp turn not a few yards out? Somehow, I get the feeling it will be the latter. I’m not sure I would want it any other way, to be honest.
Would you?
Think about it – would you want an ordinary and predictable road for all the days of your life?
Oh, and my personal favorite on the CD?
“Hell Yeah”
But Neil Diamond’s new CD – 12 Songs – is one hell of a record.
My dad introduced me to it over Christmas break. He said all of these old rockers are hitting mid-life and getting sentimental. They’ve spent their lives looking all over for the meaning of life. For Truth. Peace. Love.
In many ways, I feel like I’ve already had my mid-life crisis. It’s odd, really. I’m only half way there in terms of years, but considering all my life experiences, I feel far older than my years suggest.
Perhaps it’s a curse. Perhaps it’s a blessing. But I feel like I know exactly what Neil is singing about. It’s been a long and winding road that has led me thru the first 25 years of my life. I am unsure of where the road takes me now.
Of how it will unfold. Will it unfurl straight out in front of me for as long as I can see? Or will it take a sharp turn not a few yards out? Somehow, I get the feeling it will be the latter. I’m not sure I would want it any other way, to be honest.
Would you?
Think about it – would you want an ordinary and predictable road for all the days of your life?
Oh, and my personal favorite on the CD?
“Hell Yeah”
Friday, January 13, 2006
Bumper Sticker Brilliance
“War Is Not The Answer”
In a perfect world filled with perfect people, perhaps that statement would be true. But Uptopia, we do not live in.
War is not the answer. Ask the European Jewish population during World War II if that statement is true. My grandfather was there, rushing the beaches at Normandy. He is one of only a handful of men still alive that were there that day. He was there to fight the bad guys – to save those that needed saving – and to right that which was wrong. Europeans cheered him and his comrades as they entered each city. He is a hero.
War is not the answer. Ask Scotland during the early 1300’s if that statement is true. Under the rule of England, they had no freedom. No – war was the ONLY answer. Someone had to stand up and fight for what England was not going to allow them to have. Scotland’s sons rushed the fields at Bannockburn to defy England. They paid the price for what generations since them have benefited from. They were heroes.
War is not the answer. Ask those men and women who were at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 if that statement is true. Japan launched a surprise attack on America that fateful day. Military leaders planned that attack while diplomats engaged in “peace talks” with America. The men and women that fought back that day did so with hands tied behind their backs. Ships were already sunk. Airfields were already leveled. Planes were already destroyed. Crippled – they were still heroes.
No one likes war. I cringe every single time I wake up to the news announcing how many people were killed by terrorists in Iraq the previous day.
I wish to God that bad guys did not exist. That there was no one to fight. But Evil exists and Good must rise up to face it.
Scotland didn’t pick that fight with England. My grandfather didn’t pick that fight with Hitler. America didn’t pick that fight with Japan. Freedom didn’t pick a fight with bin Laden or al-Zarqawi.
Japan. Nazi Germany. Oppressive England. They were all bullies.
Osama bin Laden. Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Saddam Hussein. Bullies.
And since bullies only respond to strength, we all must be prepared to be much stronger.
I would love for someone to give “the answer”. What shall we do, sit down and have a cup of chai tea with Osama? I hope and pray that diplomacy will work in future situations – Iran, for example. But sometimes, someone simply has to stand up to the bullies.
In a perfect world filled with perfect people, perhaps that statement would be true. But Uptopia, we do not live in.
War is not the answer. Ask the European Jewish population during World War II if that statement is true. My grandfather was there, rushing the beaches at Normandy. He is one of only a handful of men still alive that were there that day. He was there to fight the bad guys – to save those that needed saving – and to right that which was wrong. Europeans cheered him and his comrades as they entered each city. He is a hero.
War is not the answer. Ask Scotland during the early 1300’s if that statement is true. Under the rule of England, they had no freedom. No – war was the ONLY answer. Someone had to stand up and fight for what England was not going to allow them to have. Scotland’s sons rushed the fields at Bannockburn to defy England. They paid the price for what generations since them have benefited from. They were heroes.
War is not the answer. Ask those men and women who were at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 if that statement is true. Japan launched a surprise attack on America that fateful day. Military leaders planned that attack while diplomats engaged in “peace talks” with America. The men and women that fought back that day did so with hands tied behind their backs. Ships were already sunk. Airfields were already leveled. Planes were already destroyed. Crippled – they were still heroes.
No one likes war. I cringe every single time I wake up to the news announcing how many people were killed by terrorists in Iraq the previous day.
I wish to God that bad guys did not exist. That there was no one to fight. But Evil exists and Good must rise up to face it.
Scotland didn’t pick that fight with England. My grandfather didn’t pick that fight with Hitler. America didn’t pick that fight with Japan. Freedom didn’t pick a fight with bin Laden or al-Zarqawi.
Japan. Nazi Germany. Oppressive England. They were all bullies.
Osama bin Laden. Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Saddam Hussein. Bullies.
And since bullies only respond to strength, we all must be prepared to be much stronger.
I would love for someone to give “the answer”. What shall we do, sit down and have a cup of chai tea with Osama? I hope and pray that diplomacy will work in future situations – Iran, for example. But sometimes, someone simply has to stand up to the bullies.
Monday, January 02, 2006
She...
The other night, I was talking to one of my ex-girlfriends. Her current boyfriend of a year had just told her he needed some time off. That some things between he and his ex were still unresolved.
“So....this is the second time a guy has left me for a girl.”
The words broke my heart. I know who the first guy was and I’ll give you one guess to figure it out. I hurt her deeply and I carried that burden for a long, long time. She has forgiven me and that has allowed me to forgive myself. Still, I wish I could erase all that pain just like I wish I could erase the pain she feels now.
Later in the conversation, she made a statement that gave me pause. It was profound in more ways than one and I am grateful I was there to receive those words.
“The one thing in life that I want more than anything...is to be loved. Nothing in the world is greater. And I haven’t had that and I don’t think I’ll ever have that.”
Oh, how that statement pierced my heart. My eyes welled up and I immediately felt 2 very distinct sensations. I felt like a failure. And I felt uplifted.
Failure – Apparently, I never expressed my love for her clearly enough. I know I never said those 3 little words, simply out of pride. But I do love her. I loved her then and I love her, quite possibly, more now. I wish she knew that when we were together.
Uplifted – She gets it. She actually gets it and that fills me with a hope and purity that no words can express. Friends. Family. Soul mates. Nothing in the world is greater than to be loved. No writer or poet could have said it better than she did.
I remember how we spent our first Valentine’s Day together. I coaxed her dorm mate into giving us their room for the night. Before we left for dinner, I secretly did some redecorating and placed some roses upon the bed.
Back from dinner, she found a special touch to those roses. Pinned to their stems, I had written notes with the things that I loved most about her.
Even though it was my hand writing those notes, all of it came from her. It was she that inspired me to do that. That is the thing that is so special about a woman. She is uplifting. She is inspiring. She is beauty.
She is the pinnacle of Creation.
“So....this is the second time a guy has left me for a girl.”
The words broke my heart. I know who the first guy was and I’ll give you one guess to figure it out. I hurt her deeply and I carried that burden for a long, long time. She has forgiven me and that has allowed me to forgive myself. Still, I wish I could erase all that pain just like I wish I could erase the pain she feels now.
Later in the conversation, she made a statement that gave me pause. It was profound in more ways than one and I am grateful I was there to receive those words.
“The one thing in life that I want more than anything...is to be loved. Nothing in the world is greater. And I haven’t had that and I don’t think I’ll ever have that.”
Oh, how that statement pierced my heart. My eyes welled up and I immediately felt 2 very distinct sensations. I felt like a failure. And I felt uplifted.
Failure – Apparently, I never expressed my love for her clearly enough. I know I never said those 3 little words, simply out of pride. But I do love her. I loved her then and I love her, quite possibly, more now. I wish she knew that when we were together.
Uplifted – She gets it. She actually gets it and that fills me with a hope and purity that no words can express. Friends. Family. Soul mates. Nothing in the world is greater than to be loved. No writer or poet could have said it better than she did.
I remember how we spent our first Valentine’s Day together. I coaxed her dorm mate into giving us their room for the night. Before we left for dinner, I secretly did some redecorating and placed some roses upon the bed.
Back from dinner, she found a special touch to those roses. Pinned to their stems, I had written notes with the things that I loved most about her.
Even though it was my hand writing those notes, all of it came from her. It was she that inspired me to do that. That is the thing that is so special about a woman. She is uplifting. She is inspiring. She is beauty.
She is the pinnacle of Creation.
Friday, December 30, 2005
My Christmas
I had a Wonderful Christmas.
I saw all my family and caught up and made some memories. I may be 25, but I still believe in Santa Clause and me and my little niece – who is only about 13 months old – got all caught up in the blissfulness that Christmas brings.
Be a kid. Be joyful.
I got all I asked for and I’ve always gotten all a boy could ever want. My birthday wish, however, has still not come true. I do not anticipate that it will, but I wish for it still out of that purely optimistic part of my heart. One shouldn’t expect to get all one wants. But what’s the harm in wishing for something unrealistic every now and again?
Probably the best Christmas gift was not at all a surprise, but nothing could have prepared me for it. I brought back a painting from Paris this summer. When I was there the second time around, at the end of my journey before I was to fly out of Charles de Gaulle Airport, I started getting tremendously sentimental and I bought all kinds of souvenirs.
I bought my niece a pink stuffed Eiffel Tower. How could I resist?
So yea – I picked out a painting of the city during sunset. Looking out over the Seine, the Eiffel Tower prominently watching over its city, the sun casting this uniquely beautiful glow over the buildings. It’s a great scene and I’ve been dying to get it matted and framed.
I have other art projects from Europe that need framing, but they will have to wait.
So for now, I have this picture frozen in time. Anywhere I go, anywhere I move to, this thing will come with me and it will remind me of that unforgettable journey. I have so many things like that – things that take me back in an instant to a beautiful memory from my life.
I am a rich man, to be certain.
However, yesterday we encountered a road bump. My family’s cat, Oreo, had to be put to sleep. He was very old and had experienced no health problems until now. His bladder stopped working and when pressed, blood would come out of it.
I cried when my dad and I went to the vet to see Oreo one last time. I had no idea how much I’d grown to love him. My dad cried twice as hard as I did and I think I realized at that moment just how alike he and I are.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and I get that directly from him. We both can be emotional and we cherish some of the most simple things in life.
Some sons hate the idea of being like their dad. It’s a curse and if anyone ever says something about it, they fly off the handle.
For me, being like my dad would be a great compliment.
I had a Wonderful Christmas – I hope you did, too.
I saw all my family and caught up and made some memories. I may be 25, but I still believe in Santa Clause and me and my little niece – who is only about 13 months old – got all caught up in the blissfulness that Christmas brings.
Be a kid. Be joyful.
I got all I asked for and I’ve always gotten all a boy could ever want. My birthday wish, however, has still not come true. I do not anticipate that it will, but I wish for it still out of that purely optimistic part of my heart. One shouldn’t expect to get all one wants. But what’s the harm in wishing for something unrealistic every now and again?
Probably the best Christmas gift was not at all a surprise, but nothing could have prepared me for it. I brought back a painting from Paris this summer. When I was there the second time around, at the end of my journey before I was to fly out of Charles de Gaulle Airport, I started getting tremendously sentimental and I bought all kinds of souvenirs.
I bought my niece a pink stuffed Eiffel Tower. How could I resist?
So yea – I picked out a painting of the city during sunset. Looking out over the Seine, the Eiffel Tower prominently watching over its city, the sun casting this uniquely beautiful glow over the buildings. It’s a great scene and I’ve been dying to get it matted and framed.
I have other art projects from Europe that need framing, but they will have to wait.
So for now, I have this picture frozen in time. Anywhere I go, anywhere I move to, this thing will come with me and it will remind me of that unforgettable journey. I have so many things like that – things that take me back in an instant to a beautiful memory from my life.
I am a rich man, to be certain.
However, yesterday we encountered a road bump. My family’s cat, Oreo, had to be put to sleep. He was very old and had experienced no health problems until now. His bladder stopped working and when pressed, blood would come out of it.
I cried when my dad and I went to the vet to see Oreo one last time. I had no idea how much I’d grown to love him. My dad cried twice as hard as I did and I think I realized at that moment just how alike he and I are.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and I get that directly from him. We both can be emotional and we cherish some of the most simple things in life.
Some sons hate the idea of being like their dad. It’s a curse and if anyone ever says something about it, they fly off the handle.
For me, being like my dad would be a great compliment.
I had a Wonderful Christmas – I hope you did, too.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
I have posts written out. Perhaps they need editing, but they are written.
There are things that I want to talk about and tell you about and discuss. But they will have to wait for a little while.
It’s Christmas and I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to spend time with people in my life that I love. All of you guys are wonderful and my life is richer for knowing each and every one of you. But let’s all slow down for a while and enjoy the people in our lives. Enjoy this time of year and all the special moments that it brings.
I am going to be with my mom and dad and my sisters and my precious little niece. I’m going to spend time with my Mamaw – whose health has been declining of late. And Grandaddy and Grandmamma. I want to savor every moment as if I’m not guaranteed to have anything like it again. Because I may not.
This is a special time of year. I love to anticipate its approach and I hate to see it pass. I take pleasure in putting up Christmas lights and trees and decorations. I listen to Christmas songs at home, at work, and in the car. I immerse myself in it and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Step back and enjoy it all.
To Everyone:
Merry Christmas.
May God Bless You and All That You Love.
There are things that I want to talk about and tell you about and discuss. But they will have to wait for a little while.
It’s Christmas and I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to spend time with people in my life that I love. All of you guys are wonderful and my life is richer for knowing each and every one of you. But let’s all slow down for a while and enjoy the people in our lives. Enjoy this time of year and all the special moments that it brings.
I am going to be with my mom and dad and my sisters and my precious little niece. I’m going to spend time with my Mamaw – whose health has been declining of late. And Grandaddy and Grandmamma. I want to savor every moment as if I’m not guaranteed to have anything like it again. Because I may not.
This is a special time of year. I love to anticipate its approach and I hate to see it pass. I take pleasure in putting up Christmas lights and trees and decorations. I listen to Christmas songs at home, at work, and in the car. I immerse myself in it and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Step back and enjoy it all.
To Everyone:
Merry Christmas.
May God Bless You and All That You Love.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
A Little Town
It’s Christmas time.
The air is fresh and it’s brisk. You are not suffocated by the heat or heaviness of summer. Instead, the cold invigorates your skin and fills your lungs with refreshing purity.
Every year, my family comes together and we visit this very small town about an hour away from home. This weekend, we continued that tradition and it was a truly great weekend. At Christmas, this town lines its streets with luminaries and all the little shops put up lights and make cider and cookies for their visitors. It’s almost something out of a storybook.
Christmas music emanates from a variety of sources and can be heard while you walk the streets of this place. The town is home to a very old restaurant and lodging establishment. This is where we eat dinner when we visit. Food is prepared and served in very large portions – family-style. You order one of five or six meals and get unlimited amounts of not only that, but also potatoes, cole slaw, and the best damn biscuits you’ve ever put in your mouth. This year, I chose Chicken and Dumplins.
It’s a classic and wonderful scene. And with all the little kids that are now present in my three sisters’ families, well – it’s always full of life.
There is something very romantic and mysterious about winter. Girls aren’t strutting around in short skirts and tight shirts that are showing more cleavage and more stomach. And guys aren’t gawking at them. Not that I don’t appreciate a hot woman dressed in flattering clothing – don’t get me wrong. But there’s something very special about a woman who looks amazing when she’s bundled up against the cold.
Her true beauty shines thru and some things are left to the imagination. It’s better that way, if you ask me. Maybe her whole body is completely covered, and therefore her hands become the center of attention and you notice how small they are.
Or perhaps she’s pulled a hood over her head, in an effort to protect her ears and neck from winter’s chill. Her eyes shine a little brighter than usual and you suddenly realize that they are the most amazing thing about her.
It’s funny how things are brought to light. By darkness. By cold. By affliction.
I love Christmas.
The air is fresh and it’s brisk. You are not suffocated by the heat or heaviness of summer. Instead, the cold invigorates your skin and fills your lungs with refreshing purity.
Every year, my family comes together and we visit this very small town about an hour away from home. This weekend, we continued that tradition and it was a truly great weekend. At Christmas, this town lines its streets with luminaries and all the little shops put up lights and make cider and cookies for their visitors. It’s almost something out of a storybook.
Christmas music emanates from a variety of sources and can be heard while you walk the streets of this place. The town is home to a very old restaurant and lodging establishment. This is where we eat dinner when we visit. Food is prepared and served in very large portions – family-style. You order one of five or six meals and get unlimited amounts of not only that, but also potatoes, cole slaw, and the best damn biscuits you’ve ever put in your mouth. This year, I chose Chicken and Dumplins.
It’s a classic and wonderful scene. And with all the little kids that are now present in my three sisters’ families, well – it’s always full of life.
There is something very romantic and mysterious about winter. Girls aren’t strutting around in short skirts and tight shirts that are showing more cleavage and more stomach. And guys aren’t gawking at them. Not that I don’t appreciate a hot woman dressed in flattering clothing – don’t get me wrong. But there’s something very special about a woman who looks amazing when she’s bundled up against the cold.
Her true beauty shines thru and some things are left to the imagination. It’s better that way, if you ask me. Maybe her whole body is completely covered, and therefore her hands become the center of attention and you notice how small they are.
Or perhaps she’s pulled a hood over her head, in an effort to protect her ears and neck from winter’s chill. Her eyes shine a little brighter than usual and you suddenly realize that they are the most amazing thing about her.
It’s funny how things are brought to light. By darkness. By cold. By affliction.
I love Christmas.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Movie Trivia
Below is a quote from one of my favorite movies. It's one that I often forget about, but literally every time I come across it on T.V. - I can't pass it by.
It is a wonderful tale of a luminous man following his dreams despite the most crippling of setbacks. Full of imagery. My dad introduced me to this film and I will surely introduce it my son - whenever he comes along.
Let's see who can guess the title...
“Ya know...my mother told me I outta be a farmer.”
“My dad wanted me to be a baseball player.”
“Well, you’re the best one I ever had.
And you’re the best damn hitter I ever saw.
Suit up.”
It is a wonderful tale of a luminous man following his dreams despite the most crippling of setbacks. Full of imagery. My dad introduced me to this film and I will surely introduce it my son - whenever he comes along.
Let's see who can guess the title...
“Ya know...my mother told me I outta be a farmer.”
“My dad wanted me to be a baseball player.”
“Well, you’re the best one I ever had.
And you’re the best damn hitter I ever saw.
Suit up.”
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
On the Road Again
A lot has happened over the last month. I have been preoccupied and distracted and maybe even a little lost. The last post about my journey this summer had me meeting Amanda in Malaga, Spain. Let's pick back up...
48 hours passed and I was leaving Malaga before I even knew I had arrived. My time with Amanda passed quickly but it was reassuring – what we had experienced in Valencia and Granada was not a fluke. It was real.
I missed her immediately but picked myself up by the bootstraps and jumped on a bus to Sevilla. Traveling between cities was, oddly enough, one of the best parts of my trip. I think it was the transition of it all. Sailing smoothly from one place to the next – physically, emotionally, spiritually. It gave each new place a context – a meaning.
Granada was more than a beautiful city. It was where Amanda and I were together. It was where my heart refused to be silenced. Cinque Terre was not simply the most amazing natural landscape I’d ever seen. It was my purification.
And so Sevilla was next. Abby had studied there for a semester. She sent me postcards and emails making claims of its beauty and splendor.
You don’t know who Abby is and you won’t find out, because she’s another long story to be told on a very lonely day. She got married this past summer while I was in Europe. Perhaps while I was visiting her city. It seems as if they’re all getting married.
Every time a destination was reached, an excitement rose inside of me. Excitement for something undiscovered. It must have been something of a glimpse of what Columbus or Ponce de Leon felt as they uncovered The New World. Or perhaps Lewis and Clark.
On a smaller scale, certainly. But isn’t it similar? All these places were new to me. They had yet to be discovered and searched and explored. Maybe others had already seen them. But I had not.
It was a feeling of being alive. Of truly living.
By now I was becoming quite adept at finding my way around these places. Maps were second nature and I’d grown unconcerned about whether people were around while I checked my maps. I’m a tourist – I am not ashamed.
Despite my failure to routinely do this, calling ahead to secure a place to stay was a really great idea. Thankfully, I had made this call back in Malaga and knew where I was going once in Sevilla. The hostel was run by an old but kind lady that spoke just slightly broken English. I found that places like this – hostels that weren’t big and commercial, but rather, small and locally run – gave much more of a true flavor for the place. They intensified the experience and I preferred it that way.
The weather gods had blessed me so far and continued to oblige. While America was battling her worst hurricane season in recent history, I was a million miles away under some of the bluest skies I’d ever seen. Sure, it was hot. But I’d rather sweat a little than be holed up inside while the rain and wind whip around outside.
As was my custom, I dumped my stuff in the room, took a breather and then headed out into the unknown. It was Sunday and the cathedral was open with free admission. I love free.
It is only the largest Gothic edifice ever constructed and the third largest cathedral in the world. Pause for a second and think about that, will you? Save for St. Peter’s in Rome and St. Paul’s in London – this cathedral is the largest in all the world. It took more than a century to build.
I love being awe-struck. When you’re awe-struck, you know you’re witnessing the pinnacle of something.
An astonishing athletic performance – Jordan’s 38 points in Game 5 of the 1997 NBA playoffs, including the 3-pointer that won the game. The night when, 5 minutes before the game, he was still lying in a dark room with a bucket nearby to handle his puking from food poisoning. The whole game, he looked as if he were on the verge of fainting.
Physical beauty – The most perfect smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life. So perfect, that the beauty of Cinque Terre pales in comparison. The way a girl’s ears fade into her neck. And her neck into her shoulders.
A feat of man – A structure so immense and intricate that you can’t help but wonder how a modern builder would go about creating this thing, much less a group of men in the year 1401.
Awe-inspiring. Beauty.
I love it.
48 hours passed and I was leaving Malaga before I even knew I had arrived. My time with Amanda passed quickly but it was reassuring – what we had experienced in Valencia and Granada was not a fluke. It was real.
I missed her immediately but picked myself up by the bootstraps and jumped on a bus to Sevilla. Traveling between cities was, oddly enough, one of the best parts of my trip. I think it was the transition of it all. Sailing smoothly from one place to the next – physically, emotionally, spiritually. It gave each new place a context – a meaning.
Granada was more than a beautiful city. It was where Amanda and I were together. It was where my heart refused to be silenced. Cinque Terre was not simply the most amazing natural landscape I’d ever seen. It was my purification.
And so Sevilla was next. Abby had studied there for a semester. She sent me postcards and emails making claims of its beauty and splendor.
You don’t know who Abby is and you won’t find out, because she’s another long story to be told on a very lonely day. She got married this past summer while I was in Europe. Perhaps while I was visiting her city. It seems as if they’re all getting married.
Every time a destination was reached, an excitement rose inside of me. Excitement for something undiscovered. It must have been something of a glimpse of what Columbus or Ponce de Leon felt as they uncovered The New World. Or perhaps Lewis and Clark.
On a smaller scale, certainly. But isn’t it similar? All these places were new to me. They had yet to be discovered and searched and explored. Maybe others had already seen them. But I had not.
It was a feeling of being alive. Of truly living.
By now I was becoming quite adept at finding my way around these places. Maps were second nature and I’d grown unconcerned about whether people were around while I checked my maps. I’m a tourist – I am not ashamed.
Despite my failure to routinely do this, calling ahead to secure a place to stay was a really great idea. Thankfully, I had made this call back in Malaga and knew where I was going once in Sevilla. The hostel was run by an old but kind lady that spoke just slightly broken English. I found that places like this – hostels that weren’t big and commercial, but rather, small and locally run – gave much more of a true flavor for the place. They intensified the experience and I preferred it that way.
The weather gods had blessed me so far and continued to oblige. While America was battling her worst hurricane season in recent history, I was a million miles away under some of the bluest skies I’d ever seen. Sure, it was hot. But I’d rather sweat a little than be holed up inside while the rain and wind whip around outside.
As was my custom, I dumped my stuff in the room, took a breather and then headed out into the unknown. It was Sunday and the cathedral was open with free admission. I love free.
It is only the largest Gothic edifice ever constructed and the third largest cathedral in the world. Pause for a second and think about that, will you? Save for St. Peter’s in Rome and St. Paul’s in London – this cathedral is the largest in all the world. It took more than a century to build.
I love being awe-struck. When you’re awe-struck, you know you’re witnessing the pinnacle of something.
An astonishing athletic performance – Jordan’s 38 points in Game 5 of the 1997 NBA playoffs, including the 3-pointer that won the game. The night when, 5 minutes before the game, he was still lying in a dark room with a bucket nearby to handle his puking from food poisoning. The whole game, he looked as if he were on the verge of fainting.
Physical beauty – The most perfect smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life. So perfect, that the beauty of Cinque Terre pales in comparison. The way a girl’s ears fade into her neck. And her neck into her shoulders.
A feat of man – A structure so immense and intricate that you can’t help but wonder how a modern builder would go about creating this thing, much less a group of men in the year 1401.
Awe-inspiring. Beauty.
I love it.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Living to the Hilt
Steven made a comment the other day in response to a post of mine. He said we should "live life to the hilt - a great swordfighting metaphor, but living to the hilt means getting seriously stabbed now and then."
Immediately a passage from a book came to mind. Again, I reference "Wild at Heart" by John Eldredge. Eldredge does such a masterful job at drawing from others' commentary about whatever subject he's dealing with.
We're entering the story towards the end - one of the last chapters. Eldredge is speaking about how to fight; what happens when a man resolves to become a warrior. And he draws from another author's insights -
"The most dangerous man on earth is the man who has reckoned with his own death. All men die; few men ever really live. Sure, you can create a safe life for yourself...and end your days in a rest home babbling on about some forgotten misfortune. I'd rather go down swinging. Besides, the less we are trying to 'save ourselves,' the more effective a warrior we can be. Listen to G.K. Chesterton on courage:
Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die. "He that will lose his life, the same shall save it," is not a piece of mysticism for saints and heroes. It is a piece of everyday advice for sailors or mountaineers. It might be printed in an Alpine guide or a drill book. The paradox is the whole principle of courage; even of quite earthly or quite brutal courage. A man cut off by the sea may save his life if he will risk it on the precipice. He can only get away from death by continually stepping within an inch of it. A soldier surrounded by enemies, if he is to cut his way out, needs to combine a strong desire for living with a strange carelessness about dying. He must not merely cling to live, for then he will be a coward, and will not escape. He must not merely wait for death, for then he will be a suicide, and will not escape. He must seek his life in a spirit of furious indifference to it; he must desire life like water yet drink death like wine."
Nothing needs to be added to that. Nothing.
Friday, December 02, 2005
I wish to God that I could make everyone happy. There are many, many people in my life who I care about dearly and I wish I could make all their pains and fears vanish into the wind. I wish I could carry their burdens for them and ease the weight on their shoulders.
I have tried in earnest.
It is not possible. And although it is not possible – I will likely continue to try for all the days of my life. Maybe it’s not necessary. Maybe that’s not the way to live one’s life. But this is how I am built.
I’m an optimist. I’m a romantic. I’m a dreamer. I wear my heart unabashedly on my sleeve.
And today, I have been beaten. I’m worn and broken and spent. It feels like I’m being taken out by snipers.
But Tomorrow – tomorrow the sun will rise and a new day will come upon us.
I have tried in earnest.
It is not possible. And although it is not possible – I will likely continue to try for all the days of my life. Maybe it’s not necessary. Maybe that’s not the way to live one’s life. But this is how I am built.
I’m an optimist. I’m a romantic. I’m a dreamer. I wear my heart unabashedly on my sleeve.
And today, I have been beaten. I’m worn and broken and spent. It feels like I’m being taken out by snipers.
But Tomorrow – tomorrow the sun will rise and a new day will come upon us.
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