Filed under: reflection | Tags: brother, clairemont, family, reflection, sister
driving through the heart of clairemont’s grid of suburban side streets on my way to shoot a few baskets at gershwin park (no relation), I stopped at an intersection to let a brother and sister cross the street.
the brother was probably around 8, and his trailing sister maybe 5. she followed no more than a foot behind him, falling perfectly in step with his own. she mimicked his hand motions – he threw his hands up momentarily, and so did she. he started pounding his right fist into his left palm, and she followed along exactly.
and in one of those oddly reminiscent moments, I started to think about my relationship with my little sister. I guess, growing up, I was never really aware of how she viewed my actions, and I’m still pretty ignorant about it. I’ve no memories of her copying me the way the kid on the street imitated her older brother, but I’m all of a sudden uneasy with the fact that my actions may have pulled some sort of weight with her. I wasn’t always the best brother, and I’m sure I began to grasp the concept of spitefulness at her expense. surely I wasn’t horrible, but I wonder what things of positive acclaim, if any, she associates with me.
furthermore, I think I’m more afraid that my actions as an older brother had little or no influence on her. she’s 1819 now, and a much more decent, upstanding human being than I am, and I’m proud as heck of what she’s done and who she continues to become. even back in the day, I remember feeling a brotherly, associative pride in her accomplishments; a first-prize plaque in some agricultural drawing contest comes to mind.
I can be a jerk and say that she’s far exceeded my expectations, or I can be honest and say that I expected nothing less and hope for even more. and in light of that, I can only wonder and speculate if I’ve played some sort of affirmative, positive role in her life. would it be a massive failing if I haven’t? I’m afraid so.
I’m okay with the fact that I don’t remember her ever copying my movements. I’m also okay with her never intending to mimic me. but, at the very least, I hope I can let her know that it’s safe to cross the street.
Filed under: grad school, music, rationalization, reflection | Tags: change, classes, dustin kensrue, grad school, grant writing, reflection
never thought I’d title a blog entry with an agricultural term, but there it is.
since august of 2006, my life – especially in the day-to-day sense – has been pretty steady. wake up, shower, go to work, decide how to feel about work that day, do my thing, go home, do self-maintenance stuff, sleep. repeat monday through friday. I say “steady” because it’s pretty neutral; what it really is is stagnant. nothing spectacular, but nothing utterly depressing or out of the ordinary for a freshly minted college graduate. I’ve recognized that routine in itself isn’t a bad thing. sure, it may not be the ideal approach to living. but it’s not bad, especially for me, a closeted control freak still in utter denial that I possess such tendencies; an auteur-type parading as (and still convinced of being) an edgy, improvisational-type.*
the crux of my dissatisfaction in regard to regimen, I found, was the lack of progressive context. my daily doings weren’t amounting to anything bigger, nor were they for anything bigger. I was stagnant because I was directionless. I was directionless because I was stagnant. The ouroboros would be proud.
recognizing this, I’ve slowly started to till the soil that is my life. the calendar year thus far has been filled with thoughts and plans to turn things over, agitate my self-imposed status quo, and reclaim a sense of the future. basically, I’ve somehow mustered up the courage to make decisions and act accordingly.
the biggest thing so far is my commitment to pursue grad school. after months, if not years, of questioning and wondering, I’m convinced now that I want to end up in the 501(c)(3) world, an arena that, at its core, stands profit on its head.** I’ve begun to research schools and their respective programs. I enrolled in an introductory grant-writing class. the GRE prep books are sitting in my room. quite a departure from no plan, no activity.
soil tilled? I’d say so.
scared stiff? even moreso.
and therein lies the next hurdle: to not be frozen by this foreign concept of ambition, to not become debilitated by anxiety, to trust in providence, to rely on grace. even when the soil is tilled, the sower still needs patience and, even still, hope to see something good come of the land.
and I guess that’s where I find myself, in a state of “we’ll see” that seems to pop up way more often in my life than I’d like. however, on the bright side, there’s an implicit, near-hidden freedom at the heart of “we’ll see.” I do what I can, concede my shortcomings to the One who knows me better than I ever will, and simultaneously get to marvel at the grand orchestration that becomes increasingly evident as I learn, at times painfully, to loosen my hold on outcomes.
now, this is all good in words and thought at 3:00am, but reality is, of course, harder. this is, I suppose, the push and pull of our best-laid plans. and this is where, I suppose, the place through which I’ll find myself navigating over the next few months. who knew soil required such upkeep?***
Consider the Ravens – Dustin Kensrue
“between the river and the ravens I’m fed
between oblivion and the blazes I’m led
so father give me faith, providence and grace
between the river and ravens I’m fed
sweet deliverer, oh you lift up my head
and lead me in your way”
*definite future entry fodder.
**an admittedly oversimplified statement. more fodder for a future entry.
***farmers and agrarians need not respond.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: about me, blog, reflection, self indulgence
hey again, everyone. (dear homeland security, this is not a dangerous/threatening blog.)
so, my previous attempt at blogging was a fantastic flameout. it started off well – I was more than excited to write things that I hoped were funny at best and non-boring at worst – but I greatly underestimated the amount of creative energy and impetus it would take to maintain such a blog. thus, the haikus, state rants, and song explications ground to a sudden halt. assuming someone out there hoped to read more, all I can say is “my bad.”
I reckon that I’ve always straddled the line between the creative and reflective. most people have found a way to meld and intersect the two (semi-) successfully; just read the massive amounts of beautiful (and bad but genuinely honest) poetry. these two facets – creativity and reflection – make up a substantial portion of who I am, and my inability to negotiate and combine the two like so many others already have serves as the axis around which my most frequent existential crises and questions revolve.
I reluctantly admit that I’ve got a knack for non-serious, silly writing, but also acknowledge that I’m incapable of masterfully manipulating written word to my liking. I also admit that I possess a penchant for recollection and insight, but am way too self-aware and self-wary to record my thoughts in a genuine manner, which I guess pretty much defeats the purpose of insight. style and wit frequently take precedence over substance and honesty, and I get trapped in the effort to make my thoughts come across as awesome. to whom, I don’t even know.
looking back at my past blogging attempts, it seems as if I’ve played into each of my shortcomings. my first blog ever comes across as a carefully hedged, perfectly managed cross-section of who I was at the time, and ultimately, how I felt about everything. my last blog was, in a way, the exact opposite: an attempt to deflect and distract away from reality, and instead paint skewed, disassociated, and momentarily humorous versions of such.
in light of all that, I guess this blog is my first real attempt at finally striking some sort of agreement between the creative and reflective. in essence, it’ll be a blog about whatever I feel like writing (god, that sounds ridiculously mundane). I assume some days will take on the “today I did this, this, and that” format, while other days may simply be a picture of bird poop on my car that I, for one reason or another, find relates to my attempts at living out some semblance of young adulthood.
so here it goes, another attempt to sequester the internets as a tool for personal growth. we’ll see. in the words of tobias funke, “Let the great experiment begin!”
