In transit

Well, I am now in Seattle; finally. It’s feels like it’s been a long road to get here and now that I’m here it feels right. Not to say that life here has not been crazy, I am constantly in transit either by bike, ferry or bus. Life is motion. I like that sense that nothing is stagnant. Sometimes while in the office I still feel as though I’m rumbling across the water on the ferry. 

With constant motion comes fatigue. As of now I am doing well with being tired but I can see that becoming and issue with burnout. As for now it’s nice to feel worked both physically and mentally. My training has been stretching my innards to great lengths; building me up and breaking me down. I can feel change moving over me and I’m trying access where that change is and its effect. 

In the stretching and building/breaking process I’ve been reassured about my aspirations for my life and given a new resolve to see them to fruition. This is vague and all things are libel to change, but as of where I stand right now life is good and work is better.

Fairy tale endings and dewdrops

So on the eave of my departure from spokane I am of course reflecting on what I have come to consider my home, and those that made it so. I’ve always been so bad at this sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong I put a lot of meaning into these things as I do most things. I want there to be so much in my goodbyes. I plan out long conversations the perfect punctuation of tears, hugs and laughter. But I’ve never been able to do it well It never lives up to what I create in my head, as usual. To understand my thoughts best I think one of my fictional heroes sums up my thoughts best. 

JD( from Scrubs): Things rarely go exactly the way you want them to, so sometimes you make due with whatever you can get…Endings are never easy; I always build them up so much in my head they can’t possibly live up to my expectations, and I just end up disappointed. I’m not even sure why it matters to me so much how things end here…

I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is: you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that it’s all about the people that you let into your life.  

And as my mind drifted to faces I’ve seen here before, I was taken to memories of family, of coworkers, of lost loves, even of those who’ve left us. And as I rounded that corner, they all came at me in a wave of shared experience…And even though it felt warm and safe, I knew it had to end. It’s never good to live in the past too long.

As for the future, it didn’t seem so scary anymore. It could be whatever I wanted it to be…  And who’s to say this isn’t what happens? Who can tell me that my fantasies won’t come true… just this once?

 This time I’ve decided to try to do my best to reflect and leave things well but then again I’m a work in progress. Thank you to those that have given me so much and given me closure. So as I reflect and love I look to the future where it can be anything I want it to be.

Walking Literature

First off I have to admit I’ve sampled some of Donald Millers thoughts as I write this down but it’s brought me to some new thoughts of my own so hopefully I’m not just regurgitating something that’s not my own. I will also buffet this by saying that I am no expert and I make a lot of general inclusive statements but mostly this is something I’ve come to understand on a personal level so feel free to disagree or correct where corrections need to be made. 

I’ve been thinking about the idea of story and narrative, particularly my own story. Narrative as I have come to understand it is something that is present in our everyday lives, it’s essentially how we come to understand the world we live in as well as ourselves. Most of what we believe is based on something we’ve been told and come to understand as truth or at least believable. It gives us structure in society, creating social norms allowing us to function. Stories hold meaning and give us purpose. The concept is deeply routed and personal, so much so that each of is living a story out right now and even more than that we are the story. 

 I’ve come to the conclusion that we are all books. Active, captivating, living literature. All of us have our own stories to live and tell through our actions and our character. These stories are far reaching and meander with many subplots but ultimately have all the elements needed to tell a story, our story. Now many stories blend together and make up the larger narrative of the human race but each in unique belonging to the individual and all are in need of the essential elements of story. Without the crucial elements something is missing.  I’m talking about the very basics characters, plot, rise and fall, conflict and the all important end.

That’s what I want to focus on here; that every story needs and ending. Some of them are very clear endings with the protagonist riding off into the sunset after saving the day. Other stories aren’t so clear in their endings; they’re not satisfying or they leave a lot unfinished. And sometimes we’re not even sure they’ve ended at all. This is typically how our stories come to a close. Without clarity. 

The important fact is that stories end, our stories end and not just with death. We all have many stories to tell during our lives and I believe beyond. But  if we don’t recognize when the story has ended we live in the past. Don’t get me wrong I love rereading a good book but even that gets old. And in the same way rereading or reliving our past stories although fun and even sometimes good ultimately gets old as well. Reliving our stories over and over again is never completely fulfilling and in truth I know it’s not from personal experience. When we sit rereading our past theirs nothing new to be told, our stories become stagnant. We create gaps instead of starting fresh on a new page. 

My story I have currently been in ended a while ago, I’ve just been sitting stagnant for a while. I’ve found myself not moving forward but going back and editing things that can’t be edited, choosing the better options and finding that sunset I was supposed to ride off into. 

Now I have a new story that will begin very shortly and it’s taken me realizing the end of one to be able to start the other.

Other people say it best

This is a link to Donald Miller’s blog, no matter what you think about him I think this particular entry is worth looking at.

http://donmilleris.com/2009/07/31/how-the-stories-you-believe-are-screwing-with-your-mind/

Somethings I know about me

        As I have had much time to reflect over this summer and go on Facebook way too much i’ve learned a few things about myself. So Instead of  responding to one of those really lame questionnaires I made a list of all the things you might need to know about me.  I like to call them Zach-isms. They are not completely unique but important in understanding me. 

I rush into everything without looking. 

I over think every action, just too late.

I ask questions before,during and after, just never out loud.

I am most anxious when everything is going according to my plans.

Anything you might ever want to know about me can be explained over a good beer.

My best ideas have never been written down, documented or come to fruition.

My imagination exceeds anything I’ve ever seen or read.

I’m cynical only to the point where my heart takes over.

I could live on artisan bread and apple smoked gouda.

I’m a Momma’s boy without a mamma.

I love the idea of traveling, but I’m a terrible traveler.

Napping is the way to my heart.

If I could choose to smell like one thing for the rest of my life it would be campfire.

I think socks are a constraint on society.

I will never remember how to tie a tie.

I love to tell stories, I’m just not very good at it.

The smell of a rain storm right before it starts, makes me think that everything in the world is right. 

I can people watch for hours.

I’m secretly a morning person. 

I hate being the last to leave, but I’ll always stay.

I never feel like anythings finished.

Nursing homes terrify me.

I base what I eat on texture more than taste.

Sometimes the first light of morning scares me more than the darkest of nights.

I have never done a completely altruistic thing in my life.

As much as I claim not to care, I base everything I do off of how I think other people will perceive me. 

I often won’t make an effort not because I’m lazy but because I’m afraid of failure.

I like giving gifts much more than I like receiving them. 

I know God loves me, I just don’t always know why. 

One of my biggest fears is that I won’t be remembered.

My biggest fear is ending up alone.

I hate keeping secrets.

I thrive in crisis situations.

Sometimes I think showering is a waste of time. 

I hate being unoriginal but I don’t think I’ve ever had an original thought.

I wear my emotions like a bad coffee stain on a white shirt.

Sometimes I like to pretend that clothes do make the man.

I often fall really hard.

I actually do think about who will read this stupid blog.

I often say way too much.

24

So I way forced to have a conversation with my uncle the other night. And by forced I mean he was drinking and wanted to talk to me for like two hours in which I had no escape. And by conversation I mean he talked at me for two hours. He accussed me of many things, including being spoiled, lazy, and irresponsible. I needed to look at reality and make some real life choices not waste my time on things like Americorp or other subsiquent low paying jobs.  Basically I need to get my shit together to take care of a family and be a real man. So naturally I took offense to nearly every syllable but some questions did come to mind after I stopped being so angry about his little rant.

 

What exactly does is mean to be a man, when does this time come? Did I miss it already? At the age of 24 I am no longer a kid and no longer am I content to follow the pre made prints set before me. I am to make my own way. I of course have no idea how this is done. From what I can piece together a man earns his title through not one event or one calender date but from a series of experiences good and bad. Some are wanted others are forced upon him but through it all he comes to understand what it means to love, hope, take responsibility, and endure. Fortunately or unfortunately these do not culminate in a single instance they last through life and at the end of it all what has happened is a Man’s life. What I don’t see them including is a scripted life painting an exact picture. I’ve been feed the stories of a white picket fence and 2.5 children my entire life. But that seems no more real than when I played pretend with my action figures and moved them into forced positions defining there parts completely. I am clearly not defined in such a way as is evident from my low bank account, lack of a real career, no wife, and no prospects for any of it. 

Washed By The Water

 

I from now on declare a new state of mind,a paradigm shift if you will or even if you won’t.  I have for too long walked the trotting path of the half-assed donkey. I have not given everything I have in life. I just try to get by with the least that I can do. I have ignored the responsibilities that I have to be a Man of God. I have lost so much at my own hands. I never lived up to my academic potential, I never gave myself fully to relationships, I let my time at Whitworth slip by instead of reveling in the knowledge to be gained, I hurt to many people by inactive participation in life. I watched it all walk by in the name of mediocrity. I became so feed up with the inauthenticity and fraud I witnessed that I became resolute to only give what is authentic and unihibited but within that I forsook the calling to care, to strive, and to love in all circumstances. I too often walked away when I should have stood firm.

I am better than what I have made myself out to be. I made a promise one late night to those I loved most in the world and I will now choose to live into that promise.  I herby renounce my past life that has lost me so much. I resolve to work for whatever I have, to strive toward knowledge and wisdom, to go out of way for those around me, to make the one’s I love feel special. I resolve to take care of myself, to make my body a temple. I resolve to acknowledge my gifts and to use them for greater good and to use them to their full ability. I will baptize my life for the Lord in love and gratitude. 

 

Out of pain come truth, one man can only receive so many wake up calls before they leave their mark. I am marked by my past but I wish to be washed clean by my maker that will expose all that I am and love me all the more. 

The Running Man

If there’s one thing that I have learned lately it is that you can never out run yourself. I’ve come to realize that this is something I have been trying to do for some time now. I never fully unpack anything; there’s always a box continually wrapped in tape or car ready to to leave. My toiletries have not left their carrying case in four years. What is it that I’m trying to escape from? It’s no wonder why I never quite feel settled or why my heart is restless. I think people have come to expect this of me.

But why do I run? I run to flee myself to find that better man but the more I run, it becomes clear that I’m not actually moving I’m on a treadmill working against myself. So instead of running my strides look more like this; smoking the stubs of other men’s cigarettes, drinking too often, going way to far with those I love, and  ignoring my heart. All the while my limbs furious flail and my  lungs burn for I am out of breath. This all leads to the truth, that I can not run from myself and the more I try the harder It gets to look at myself in the mirror. Maybe I wear this beard to mask what I have become; to hide these scars that have become so apparent.

But just as I cannot escape myself I know that I can never outrun grace. So maybe it’s time to stop running, be still, and know. Oh how I wish I could know. So I search for that calm and gather the courage to truly look myself in the mirror and take a deep breath of something other than smoke.

Restless

I have forgotten what great sleep is like. This wonderful job and my new college graduate lifestyle  aka. poor person, has left me with a lot of restlessness. I am still in Spokane to my dismay. I have found myself traveling quite a bit looking at all the greener pastures that surround me in this desolate town. Just when I seem to find peace there I am forced to return to my Job or as I like to put it the Endless Night that is my life. For the first time in a long while I crave stability. I want to feel settled to be able to unpack a box and take ownership of a mattress. What happened to me? I used to love the idea of never knowing where I was going to sleep in a Jack Kerouac-vagabond lifestyle. Although I look homeless with my new beard; I think in a way I grew it to have a companion on this journey. Don’t think I’m crazy I swear my mustache really does have it’s own personality. 

So I sit in this place restless on a journey with no forward momentum. Maybe I’ll try to remember the gentle whisper of the wind blowing through the pines as I sleep in my tepee, that always got me to sleep.

Random thoughts from a man slowly going crazy

So I work a job where I stay up all night on the weekends at a Hotel and have no social life. Sitting alone all night often gives me time to to think. And usually it’s a lot of crazy non-sense. enjoy.

If you see me around and I look like I’m kinda drunk at 8 in the morning don’t be worried I just haven’t slept. This does strange things to my mind. I lose depth perception, the ability to read and speak coherent sentences. If you just speak slowly I’ll get what your saying.

Is there anything more apathetic than apathy… yes I say emphatically.  Death and so I have become death the destroyer of my immortal soul.  

I have gone passed the point of being apathetic I like to call it blaaaaaah. Sitting in my underwear eating coco puffs watching reruns of Veronica Mars no longer has the appeal it once did. Sleeping all day no longer brings the sweet satisfaction. Where do I go from here? Not up I say. So now what?

Other thoughts, I’m skinny, yes I realize this thanks for pointing it out. And no I probably won’t get much bigger. Thank you for pointing that out. I can see that your muscles are bigger than mine and kuddos to you. You win. But I’m the guy who will always have six pack abs and I never have to work out, ha. Also I still get to wear pants I wore in Jr High and that’s high fashion my friend. My underwear gets to say chico on the size and that’s a pretty cool word. So next time you think you call me skinny, thanks I sag these slightly too large pants proudly.