Tag: blog

new growth

I have a monstera plant in my home, and allow me to assure you beyond any doubt that it has lived up to it’s name in the 8 months it has dominated our living room. The growth of it’s dominion over our front room was slow, anarchistic and seemingly uncalculated until one day I found myself with a bit of a stiff neck that I can only attribute to my passive attempt at seeing the TV; first around, then through, it’s overt foliage. It’s menace seemed even more obvious when we moved it to an empty and freshly painted room only to discover that it required a quarter of the space in the room.

When it eventually suited me, I found some information online regarding how to prune and take proper care of this plant and was reminded of several things I already knew about plants – the first of which is that there is a specific way to do it. This; I knew. This is why I didn’t just dive in unlearned. The second: that strength and new growth is possible through pruning, sculpting, and when required – bracing.

The aptly named; and to my surprise, toxic, semblance of vine, tree, and massive leaf, needed all three aspects of pruning, so adhering to the guidance of the hostess of the YouTube channel ‘fun with plants and cats’ I cut back the most obviously superfluous 25-30% and propped it’s main stalk up with the strongest bamboo stake in the garden shed before commenting to myself that as though the framework for growth is in place, it’s not where I’d like it to be just yet.

For starters, it’s amazing that the cumulative 12 minutes of time I’ve invested (7 of which were spent watching a video) has led to an expectation of performance based on my investment. It’s also interesting that I began to relate to it, and even as I write this the parallels between the structure and framework I’ve given it and the structure and framework I am giving myself make for easy comparison.

This is the strongest and most ridiculous plant in the house, and thus it takes up a lot of attention. It is loud and boisterous, and at times obnoxious – but it is also the most obviously in-need of assistance, guidance, and nurturing of all of it’s leafy brothers and sisters here. It is beautifully vulnerable but it is not weak.

Perhaps I could stand to be a bit more vulnerable as well.

when it gets dark

First, a brief synopsis.
Then, analysis.

The book of Job is a book of the bible, that for all intents & purposes is sorta just wedged in there. We’re given no real parameters for the setting. All we know is that Where Job lives, in Uz, is far away from Israel, but we’re given no context of time, which seems intentional. The story itself starts with the introduction of the character: Job. He’s ultimately a good dude and is a righteous follower of God… and God says so. In God’s court; however, The Satan or The Accuser contests this and tells God that Job is only a devout follower because he’s prosperous, and that if Job’s prosperity were removed that he would curse God… and inexplicably, God plays this game and allows The Satan to torment Job.

This is where the record scratches off the turntable for most people. Why would God go along with this? Well, spoiler-alert – that question never gets answered. The book gets into more about whether or not God is just and fair. The assumption made by the humans (again, Job, a non-Israelite, and his non-Israelite friends) is that God works the same as most of our modern assumptions about Karma might work: Do good things, get good things / do bad things, bad things happen.

This means that Job, who is a good dude as the book states, is being unjustly punished – meaning that either God is not fair, and unjust – or that his punishment is not from God at all. Job’s friends disagree, and assume that Job has sinned against God, and even start to speculate how.

Another friend comes along and provides a third alternative explanation: God uses suffering to teach and build character. But – Job is choked and starts questioning God… and God shows up.

God makes clear the many unfathomable moving parts of the universe he’s created, not stopping short of the Leviathan and the Behemoth, (both of which are already namesakes for metal bands) in order to show Job the real dark stuff that still has purpose and beauty. Eventually Job apologizes, they reconcile, and Job is made more-than whole for his trials.

It’s not a feel-good story.

I came across this story through unconventional means, I suppose… through recovery channels, but being raised a church kid means I’d heard of the book of Job the same way I’d heard of all sorts of books of the bible that I hadn’t read. Through these channels I’d also learned of a series of drawings by William Blake that outline the brooding darkness of the Leviathan and Behemoth as he understood them to be. They are dark and brooding, of course, but not shocking in the way they would have been when they were new, like so many installments of Friday The 13th movies that gave kids nightmares in the 80’s and have become appropriate Saturday morning viewing for kids by today’s standards.

Upon analysis; however, Job and God look the same in these drawings. I naturally concluded that Job was created in God’s image, and that God is inside him as we’re told when we’re young.

However, if God is within us and God has created all these dark entities that we don’t understand then me must also conclude that the dark parts of ourselves that we stumble across from time to time are NOT ONLY there by design, but that they have purpose and function beyond our own understanding.

This might not help you to understand yourself at all, but it helps me to understand the many sides that form me. We all have a capacity for darkness but that capacity for darkness must then also be God’s… and that I am not waiting for God to save me so much as I am conjuring the power to save myself, because God’s power is also mine. I have had a moral compass within me all along, and what I needed to know is that when I struggle with loss or anger, that God holds on to the pain until I can carry it myself. It’s part of an internal process for anyone who’s ever said “it just hasn’t hit me yet” when coping with the shock of tragedy, for example.

In other words: I am the hero I am waiting for.

To go one further, I could also conclude that since these things are within me, that when I hear something that resonates with me and stays with me, allowing me to change or adapt, that this is either the voice of God speaking to me, or an echo of the voice of God, keeping me on my path.

God talk turns a lot of people off and I am sensitive to that. It turns me off sometimes, too, but if you read this far then I thank you. That said, I don’t really write this for anyone’s approval, and for all I know I’m dead-wrong about a lot of things.

I’m just working my way through.
Same as you.

laughable

Certain recent global pandemics that shall remain nameless shook things up a lot. If an understatement exists, surely it was the one I just made.

Mixed into the barrage of things we all had to roll with whether we liked it or not; were a couple things that a good number of people I’ve talked to recently actually miss about the inappropriately termed ‘lock-down’ time. The most consistently cited was the slower pace of daily life.

<sarcasm> y’think??? </sarcasm>

I’ll start by quickly assessing and then pushing aside the fact that it wasn’t actually the slower pace of the pandemic that appealed to us, but rather that the break-neck speed of e-commerce and the never-sleeping algorithm forever parting us with our money in exchange for temporary amusements is not a pace that the human body was ever designed to endure, nor was our collectively exhausted brain – and now that the aforementioned break-neck speed has resumed, a great number of people are resounding in wonderful rebellious chorus: fuck this.

I don’t remember the exact point at which I stumbled across a meme informing me that “it’s ok to stop mainlining cable news” and my respect for meme-culture, if that is indeed a thing, shifted.

Between my conscious decision to stop watching new news; having determined that anything truly important will be brought to my attention either directly or indirectly, and the more recent advent of news outlets being forbidden from posting directly to Facebook (because Facebook refused to pay them for their stories being shared… which is another fun discussion for another day), I am happy to say that the fear machine, in my world, has been cut off at the knees.

As a member of the adult, caucasian male demographic in North America in 2023, and a fervent self-analyzer, I can assure you that most of our decision making is based in one thing: Fear. It’s for this reason that I’m elated to have these reach of these news outlets curtailed significantly, even if it means they might sink to some desperate depths in order to retain Canadian readership.

My observation is that in order to unite any number of people is through connection on a common emotional level. It’s spiritual in nature, because it’s subtle and personal. On a small and positive scale, it’s what unites young couples – the sharing of stories and laughing together; laughing of course being one of the few expressions of self that is socially acceptable. The sharing of tears has a similar effect, but it more acceptable in settings such as bible studies and addiction recovery meetings, or occasionally in a movie theatre where Schindler’s List of some similarly heartbreaking film is being watched, as it’s heartbreak that crosses all personal boundaries. The imagination is triggered in most cases and a relatable experience may come to mind, cascading the emotion – which is why when you’re laughing, the cracking of another joke can make you laugh harder, even if it wasn’t as funny. A shared sadness can have a similar effect, but generally speaking people find these feelings uncomfortable, and avoid these scenarios.

The same emotional connection is made when a feeling of fear is shared, except without the obvious jubilation that a shared laugh brings about. Fear is more humbling and subduing because of it’s negative nature, so when fear is broadcast and shared, it has a sweeping effect as it; too, triggers the imagination and causes a cascade of negative emotion. What is even more problematic about fear is that we as humans tend to fixate on it.

I’ve heard this described as an evolutionary trait, wherein once upon a time, our primitive ancestors might be foraging for food miss something helpful and nourishing such as a fruit tree because they were more concerned with the presence of snakes lurking in the grass. Seeing the snake would be more important to survival than eating an apple or a pear in that moment, so attention to the negative is crucial in times of stress for this generation of ancestors. Eons later, we live under constant stress and anxiety to the point of physical fatigue… but this age-old trait is apparently why we have such trouble looking away from car accidents, too.

So, to have the presence of this fear reduced dramatically will ideally make more room for the sharing of laughter and tears, and connecting with each other on an emotional and spiritual level – the kind of connection we were truly missing through the pandemic (and I would argue much further back than that). Meaningful connection through the sharing of stories, and the spoken word is absolutely crucial to our existence as a species and as a group of individuals, because we quite honestly share more commonality than difference.

It’s fear that serves to categorize and label us. Not love.

I recently drove between opposing sides of an issue – a protest and a counter-protest, held on opposite sides of the street on my route to work. It was big, and people were still just arriving at the time I was passing through. Upon exiting the protest/counter-protest gauntlet, I came to witness a couple walking up to a cross-walk wearing traditional religious garb small-talking with a couple of; and I use the term lovingly, blue-haired freaks. It was fairly clear that both couplets were destined for opposite sides of the street to address the issue at hand, but they appeared to be walking together, and being cordial and polite despite the impending discord.

It made me think about both sides of the issue, and how quickly political and societal issues would be resolved if each side saw the other side for who they are: people… doing their best.

be better, do better

If I want to learn a skill, whatever it may be – Yoga, Bass Guitar, Brazilian Jujitsu, whatever you like – the methodology of improvement is almost mathematic:
Desire to learn + Knowledgeable Instructor + Time = Improvement
There are other factors such as inspiration and discipline, of course, but the reality of the situation is that you can do whatever you want. It’s not until we start applying labels to things that we start building a resistance movement against our own progress, and start telling ourselves that we’re too tall, too short, too fat, too slow, and so forth, that we start talking ourselves out things.

My favorite; and by favorite I mean least favorite, is “it’s hard.”
Of course it’s hard.
Anything worth doing is hard, and is worth doing well. Once we truly embrace that truth, we can begin to understand that we’re probably not going to master a skill immediately after starting. But can your ego handle it?

Although there’s a need to ‘toughen up’ in regards to these things, it should be stated that we should be toughening up toward our own internal resistance and we often toughen up to everything except for that resistance. If anything we punish ourselves for trying in the first place, when it’s through trial and error that we really learn the ropes of what we’re doing, but love and kindness are the only things that can permeate the thick veneer that protects the inner child. As a child; or as a childish man, I tend to reject this notion in an effort to protect the ego.

Adversity breeds character.
Mood follows action.

So; too, are matters of the mind, heart & soul.
It’s not a stretch to say that we’re all doing our best. Our ego may take issue with the level at which others are handling things, but we may never rise to the same level as others because our standards are as different as our levels of pain. So yes, we are all doing our best – and as I reconcile that with whatever heated emotion I might be feeling at any given time, there comes a different level of respect and tolerance for those around us.

So while we’re taking it easy on ourselves, we should also take it easy on each other. When the labels we use to divide each other (and ourselves) get stripped away, and there is no ‘too fat’ or ‘too thin’ or ‘too tall’ or any number of other expletives we’ve come up with to label one another, we might actually start to see ourselves in each other.

What I’m talking about is spiritual connection.
Again, I believe we feel the need ‘toughen up’ because it is in us to do so, but we toughen up towards each other when we should be toughening up to our own ego… to our resistance to vulnerability. Because vulnerability is hard.

And again… Of course it’s hard.
Anything worth doing is hard, and is worth doing well.
Once we truly embrace that truth, we can begin to understand that we’re probably not going to master a skill immediately after starting. But can your ego handle it?

the price of admission

“The first step; a frequently cited trope, is admitting you have a problem…”

On September 9th, 2023, I accomplished a personal first. I attended a gathering of people who I am simultaneously happy to see, and wish I didn’t have to see; however, we’re united by a common struggle.

The first step; a frequently cited trope, is admitting you have a problem, and although walking through the door of my first 12-Step meeting is an experience that echoes off the walls of my subconscious like some clanging gong – abrupt, and disarming, I have to say that the impetus for actually going has been a slow-moving yet still unstoppable growth, like mound of shit built by lazy insects. In essence, It’s taken a long time to get here, but I’ve known I would eventually arrive for some time now.

Yes, I admit I have a problem…

It’s probably the far reaching arm of my ego preventing me from actually putting a name to this problem – I thought I checked my ego at the door, but it still seems to be peering in at me – it’s hard to articulate your propensity for shoveling cookie dough into your mouth with a spoon, or your insatiable love of pop-tarts while attempting to put words together that don’t make you appear completely foolish.

I’m a poetic and a romantic – why can’t I come up with a better word for this problem? Ohhhh… right – it’s because it’s actually not fucking cool… and in this room you’re not fucking cool… and in the presence of these people – these honest and vulnerable and hopeful people, your “out there in the world” coolness factor means precisely nothing. In this room, you are the complete and total embodiment of embarrassment and humility, and you are sitting in a circle with other people who are the same… so no, there’s no fun word for this, so the narrative goes as follows:

Member of the groups: “My name is ___ and I am a(n) ___.”
The rest of the group: “Welcome.”

The “Mad Lib” answer-key version of this is: “Dave” and “I don’t really know, but I know I have a fucked up relationship with food, and I use it to cope with my problems” before I give a coles notes sample of how I inadvertently caused myself an extra 20 minutes of work while doing a home-renovation project and rather than doing the 20 minutes of work, I consumed a couple thousand calories while trapped in some strange, feckless trance – likely for longer than the aforementioned 20 minutes, but in the end I still had to do the extra work I caused myself, so it was a fruitless endeavor.

I’ve transferred my compulsion numerous times in my 41 years of walking around on this planet… but my first fascination was with food, and after I systematically pushed all the bad habits out of my life, I was left with my first love – and the only one I couldn’t truly abstain from: Food. I have other distractions… fitness, my car, music… and they do help me cope with life, but they’re not unmanageable compulsions that have driven me to negotiate terms with a higher power.

I tell my story with a hint of mist in my eyes because I don’t even like remembering it. I’d love to forget it and fill it’s place with music, or art, or some brilliant reflection of what life is supposed to be but instead I have this story – an insignificant blip, and a weak example of why I am really here, but these are strangers and I’m not ready to let them in yet… and when I’m done speaking, I look up from spot on the floor I was staring at – just beyond my left shoe as it cradles my right shoe on the end of my outstretched legs – and rather than seeing judging, laughing faces, I am met with nodding heads and appreciative smiles.

My story ends; as I tell it, in a rather strange place where any other group of people would keep waiting for the resolve, or some calamitous punchline, is instantly relatable in this room. I don’t just feel seen, I feel understood.

As an aside, Today marks 1 calendar year since my last alcoholic drink. I can’t say I was ever counting the days, but I will say this: You can do whatever you want to do, and if it helps you to align yourself with your purpose then you should probably start now if you haven’t already.

Much love.

step back

“I know for a fact that the blessing outweigh the curses, but I certainly have a propensity for focusing on what I don’t have, and even worse – what I don’t have anymore.”

I’ve spent a bit of time taking inventory of what I’ve got – not so much with material things, though that’s been happening a bit, too – but with the more intangible blessings and curses. I know for a fact that the blessing outweigh the curses, but I certainly have a propensity for focusing on what I don’t have, and even worse – what I don’t have anymore.

I imagine I’m not alone. I’ve heard it described as an evolutionary trait from previous iterations of survival, where we focus on the more dangerous and threatening things more than we do the gracious and joyous where, for example, we might overlook something as nice and inviting as a fruit tree while focusing on venomous snakes, because as wonderful as a fruit tree is, missing it won’t kill you the way a venomous snake might. Chemically, we would be on high alert, triggering what we now commonly call our ‘fight or flight response’ upon observing such a threat.

This is problematic now, as we’re constantly in a state of fight or flight due to the stresses of everyday life – work, money, rush hour traffic, etc. – causing us to contend with; among other things, stress and anxiety – which is literally the body’s response to being in a heightened state for far too long. This means that even those of us who wouldn’t necessarily refer to ourselves as anxious or stressed out are still in a heightened state most of the time, that stress just manifests differently.

The commonality for all of us; though, is a focus on the negative.

But to step back and take an objective look at what we have going on is not only difficult, and not only important, but also relieving. The truth is that everything is amazing. Alone, the fact that most of us walk around with the combined information of the known universe in our pockets is an incredible feat. Myself; I have a lovely home, and beautiful girlfriend and an amazingly smart kid, and a wonderful dog. I play in a great rock & roll band and I drive a cool car, I have a cool job. I get tattoos from incredible artists and have been to exotic locations… yet for some reason all that takes a back seat when I get a toothache, or when one of our bicycles gets stolen… or when I don’t like the number on the bathroom scale.

What are you grateful for? That’s a question we’re met with every morning, before we even have opportunity to scrape the crud from our eyes, and it truly sets the tone for the day. Sure, we get pulled off course from time to time, but in the grand scheme it’s of little consequence when we stop to really evaluate what we have.

It’s always easier said than done, but it’s an important, objective look at where you’re at – and as soon as you can do that with regularity, all the while understanding that you can’t control anything except your reaction… then you’ve really got something.

the most happy

“The revelation hasn’t been “you were happier when you were leaner” because I know that’s superficial bullshit. The truth of the matter is that challenging myself physically brings joy into my life.”

When were you the most happy with your appearance? Chances are decent that you didn’t know it at the time.

I suffer from a bit of body dysmorphia. That’s obviously a self diagnosis, and I’m inclined to downplay it a bit because I’m fairly certain that most of us have a touch of it. I recently stumbled across some old shirtless pictures of myself – no, not the old fat guy pictures, the ones from last year and the year before when I was training for triathlon and rolled that training into a half-marathon run.

What I saw at that time was problematic flab, negligible as it was.
What I see now is that my transformation was truly incredible. Needless to say I’m no longer in that kind of shape, but I can honestly say I’m not far off. I’m less than 15 lbs heavier now, and I am that way because of how hard I was training at the time and I’m certain that a bunch of that weight is muscle. Ultimately the difference between 192 lbs and 180 lbs is not much.

So I opted to dig into what kind of gym efforts I was doing at those times, and how much I was eating, what my protein sources were – everything. I changed my diet a while back to see what would happen, and shortly thereafter some heavy emotional stuff came my way that knocked me off course a bit. I began training less, and with less intensity because my attention was needed elsewhere, and I began eating less because I wasn’t training as hard… so I’m elated to say that my weight hasn’t fluctuated due to poor diet – it’s holding steady, really… but not at a place I would like it to hold steady, necessarily.

All in all, I’m feeling the pull back toward my disciplined morning practice, my purpose-driven workout regime and my optimized diet, and have been making great strides in pursuit of that.

The revelation hasn’t been “you were happier when you were leaner” because I know that’s superficial bullshit. The truth of the matter is that challenging myself physically brings joy into my life. I would like to reclaim that. The thing I see in the mirror now that I don’t like isn’t just pudge… it’s the reflection someone who knows he can do more.

What I’ve learned about happiness is this: Accomplishing tasks will not make you happy. Whatever your level of happiness was when you took on the challenge will be the same after you accomplish the task. You have to be happy where you are if you want to be happy where you’re going.

So I know fine-tuning my body won’t make me happy.
Trying my best, and living with purpose, though… that’s another thing.

The joy you have at the top of the mountain is the joy you bring with you.