Sunday, August 31, 2014

Back to the top. (August 31 [Everybody])

Today makes the 31st day of this journey. It has been hard, it has been tiring, and it has been a lot of fun. It is my hope that you have found at least a single word that has spoken directly to your soul and changed you for the better. It was not my intention to write poetry, but merely get into the habit of putting words on paper. Some of them are poetic, some of them are angry rants, but I still put words on paper, which was the goal.

I would also like to thank everybody who gave me ideas about what to write about. Without each and every one of you this would have been possible. Even though you probably won't read this one first, here is some information about the format of the titles:

Title of post. (Date Written [Dedication])

Each post, well most of the posts, are dedicated to an individual or group of people who supplied with the idea that served as a starting point for the post. Below you will find a formal list of contributing artists, and hopefully, they all know how much their support has meant to me, and hopefully they will continue to support me as I try to find ways of taking this writing thing more seriously. Nonetheless, the journey has merely begun. So, hold on to your hats and we'll see what September brings. Until then, thank-you!

Here is a list of contributing artists, in no particular order:

  1. Kendall    
    1. Faith
  2. Ryen
    1. Patience
  3. Brett    
    1. Adventure
  4. Amanda (via Colin)    
    1. Ninja Turtles
  5. Laramie
    1. Entitlement
  6. Amy
    1. "What is home?"
  7. Megan C.        
    1. Friendship
    2. Gaining Wisdom
  8. Megan H.    
    1. Privilege
    2. Notion of success and failure
  9. Lauren/Peter
    1. human body
    2. random kindness
    3. corporations in Christianity
    4. favorite song
    5. passion
  10. Maggie        
    1. Her birthday (August 31)
  11. Amanda
    1. Boys wearing nail polish
  12. Cecelia
    1. Fear
    2. Freddie Mercury
    3. Elephants
  13. Aaron
    1. A day at the state fair
  14. River
    1. Working for the (wo)man
    2. Stickin' it to the (wo)man
  15. Pastor Cheri
    1. Growing cantaloupes in Wisconsin
  16. Skylar
    1. What you find in a garden
  17. Brandon
    1. Tuesday, the most overlooked day of the week?
  18. Gary
    1. Predestination


 

I didn't get every single one of these ideas written about, but I did my best to get at least one from everybody. Please: enjoy, comment, share, repost, do whatever it is you feel inspired to do (if anything)!

Again, I can't thank you all enough for this. Until next time…

Happy Birthday, Maggie. (August 31 [Maggie])


Most people would
Agree that
God does great things,
Going forward in life
Is one of
Everybody's greatest fears.

In fact many people
Stay where they are, frozen,

Always looking for an escape.
Well, not everybody.
Every once and a while
Somebody comes around and
Opens doors.
Maggie is that somebody,
Even on her birthday
!!

Can you feel it? (August 30 [N/A])

It's almost over.

The day of reckoning, the day where I can look back and look at how many shitty pieces of writing I have compiled in a 31 day month. That day is almost here, and I can't wait.

However, I want to share something really quick, just so I can say I did it.

I have been sitting on a new tattoo idea for a while, and would like to speak it into existence, at least as far as the universe goes. I have told some of my friends and have gained some support, so why not tell some complete strangers and see what comes of it.

For those of you who don't know, because you're strangers, I have 2 ¾ of my limbs tattooed (both arms wrist to shoulder, right leg ankle to knee, and left leg 3 pieces taking up most of the lower half of my leg). All of the pieces of art I have collected on my body are meaningful, and awesome—you should ask to see pictures if you don't believe me! However, each piece has also accompanied me through times of transition, and operate as guideposts for where I was coming from so that I can, hopefully, no repeat history.

For instance, the top of my right arm has been worked on by 2 different artists and still isn't complete. Needless to say I started there when I was 19 years old (18 days after my birthday). It is a landscape of heaven, and needless to say at that point I was trying to figure out what it meant to be a believer. Thus, I added hell to the bottom.

Anyway, this is not about looking back and telling the stories of my current pieces, I want to share with you the idea for the next one.

You see I find myself in a weird spot, in terms of faith. So, here's my idea, picture this:

Jesus.

Riding in a UFO (alien spaceship, most likely a round one with a bubble top).

Sign.

"The Truth is out there!"

Laser beams.

Perfect right? Can you see it? I was thinking to see if the artist could possibly put the picture on a scroll type tapestry so that it looked like an ancient prophecy or something, maybe with the laser beams shooting out of it or something. Not sure on the fine details, but that's the overall idea.

Again, not looking for theological dispute, merely putting the idea out there in hopes that I can one day get up the guts to do it. Now, this is not permission for anybody to steal my idea either, so don't even think about it… or else!

Good night.

Good morning.

Good afternoon.

Good tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be the last day of this project, and so we'll see what happens then.

Until forever…

Post-Flood. (August 29 [Everybody])

With the flood comes cleansing. The rescue team returned to make sure everything was good to go. Cleaned the mud. Soaked up the water. Removed the debris. Readying the habitat for reentry. It's a blessing to have such wonderful people to help out.

However, all was not fine and dandy. Things are quickly forgotten in the light of near tragedy. Dreams were still dreamt, thoughts were still thought, but do we remember those? Do we recall what we were doing before the flood? Can we picture what we were thinking about before the water rushed in? I can, but that's because it happened just yesterday.

Today was a new day. I stepped out into the world to see the sun shining down. Time to get things done. Time to step forward into the world and make like nothing happened. Keep your head up high and cross things off your to-do list—that's the mentality that keeps the world turning, the to-do list.

I still remember what I was thinking about.

I still remember what I was feeling.

I still remember that there are struggles going on in the world far greater than mine.

However, in this moment; in this place; at this time… I matter. I am important. I am a person to.

There are times when I forget this—that I matter.

The point of my life is not to constantly be a service to others. I have a life to live, I have things to cross off my list too. I can't always be called upon to be the helping hand, even though I would like to be. There was an interesting thought that has burdened me since the flood, and it went something like this:

If the roles were reversed, would they stick it out for you?

If I were in their position, and they were in mine, how long would they stay? How long would they keep fighting for/with me? How long would they put their life, their dreams, and their desires on hold to be of service to me? I don't know, and chances are I will never know. However, it has been a difficult thing to swallow, especially considering I feel as if the answer to all of these questions is not very long. I have been in service to others my whole life. I am willing to put things down to lend a hand. I am willing to sacrifice time, money, food and sweat to help a person in need. It has been drilled into my soul from my parents and my understanding of what's wrong with the world. However, how much is too much? When do I do what makes me happy? When is it my turn to call on other people for help? When is it their turn to sacrifice for me? Probably never.

Not everybody has the right mentality to help other people.

Not everybody has the right outlook on life to find peace in sacrifice.

I know people have sacrificed for me, went to bat for me, and stuck their necks out for me. For those people I say, "Thank-you!" I know I don't ask for help very often, but I do appreciate it when it is there. You know who you are, and you know what you did.

The flood hasn't changed anything. I still sit and ponder what it means to do what makes you happy. I am still searching for soul for what makes it go, for what strengthens it, what makes it cry out in joy. I want to be happy. I want to be successful. I want to be well rested. I want to be different.

I need to live for me.

I need to live for now.

I need to live for a brighter future.

The waters rose. The waters receded. The lasting effect will be unknown until some distant point in the future when we look back and either smile or cry. Only time will tell what this flood has truly meant… only time!

The Flood. (August 28 [Rod & Linda])

Yesterday ended much like it began. Calmly focusing on the here and now, and being too tired to carry out the final duties of the day.

A valiant attempt was made to be productive at the end of the day yesterday, but I couldn't. So I started the new day, today, with a similar attitude.

More class, more work, more time to focus on the here and now.

Class was easy, but long.

Work started earlier than I thought it would.

Pizza was delicious, even though I shouldn't have spent the money needlessly (it's been a trend here towards the end of the month).

Shortly after work began was when the rain started.

Conversations started happening. Thought started flowing freely to not here, not now, not important. I began to reconsider my recently found peace, and started remembering the dreams that were dreamt, the thoughts that were thought, and the things that have been left unsaid.

No. It's not going to happen again. Every time I find some piece of mind worth hanging on to, it becomes messy. Things start getting brought up, words are spoken that illicit responses that are unwanted, and it's lost. The moment of piece lasted about a day, but I should have saw it coming… I couldn't hear the music. I didn't see it coming, until it was too late.

Rough day at work.

Sitting at home after dinner.

Trying to relax, trying to regain my peace… the flood is upon me.

Relaxing. Visiting. Reflecting. Water.

Through the door.

Over the floor.

Rushing.

Dirty.

Unstoppable.

The water was rushing down the steps and to my door. It valiantly tried to hold back the tide, but it was no use for the torrent. The rain had come and it was coming in.

I thought there was a drain, and escape hatch for the water to go, but it was just a façade. There was no where for it to go but in, and in it came. I opened the door and let the water in. I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I moved stuff.

Quick, the books. The shoes. The chair. The couch. The electronics. Quick, call the landlord. I need help. I'm sinking in the water. The flood is here and I'm not sure what to do.

The rescue ship was there in a hurry.

Buckets in two.

The bailing began. Barricade the entrance, don't let the water in. We have to stop the flow before it gets any worse; then we can repair the inside.

Following their lead, I stepped back and watched them work. They had been through this before, moving gallons of water over days of work. It's no surprise they moved with lightning speed and divine grace. I stood back and watched as the ship was righted and the mess was cleaned up.

The storm was still bearing down on us, but the rescuers stood watch through the night to make sure it wouldn't happen again…

Ready… set… go!

… to be continued!

Pre-Flood. (August 27 [N/A])

Unfortunately, this is pre-dated, since I have once again fallen behind on my project. This is, in fact, being written on August 29, 2014, two days after it was supposed to have been done. So, this is my attempt at catching up by writing 3 pieces in a single night. Each of these pieces will be an attempt at telling a single story in three parts. We'll see how it goes. Hope you enjoy this as much as I am… which is just a little bit!

There is always a calm before a storm. Regardless of what type of storm it is—tornado, hurricane, emotional, volcano—there is always an eerie moment where everything is still. That was today; the calm before the flood.

I woke up feeling ok. I went through my day with no real issues: food, class, work, and home. There have been thoughts being thought, and dreams being dreamed over the past week, but I have made several attempts to push them out of my mind. They weren't getting me anywhere, since most of my thoughts are circular anyway, I decided to let them go.

This is the pre-flood, calm. I was letting things go. Trying to stay focused on the future, the here, the now and not the worries that have been coming up. Not the fears or the regrets, or the misunderstandings or the longings. None of it. I just wanted to focus on the moment and get through the day. I was at ease, for a moment. For a time I was at peace. I was able to just be in the moment, for a moment.

The calm before the storm was upon me, but just like the movies when they can't hear the creepy music when they are about to be attacked, I didn't see the clouds rolling in. I was in the moment, and the moment was sunny (and a little humid).

I woke up. Went to class. Went to work. Went to class. Went home. Easy.

I should have felt the swing though. I should have sensed something coming; something building; something about to break. My transition back to class wasn't that smooth: hit traffic, had to detour, and had to run 2 blocks to make it to class on time. Got a disparaging text during class. Was tired, sweaty, and ready for a break. So, I go home. Something was coming, but I couldn't hear the music. I couldn't hear the storm coming.

It was coming. It was just beyond the horizon. The sun began to darken, the day began to end, the focus on the moment was slipping into oblivion. The storm was formed and ready to unleash its hell on the world.

Ready… set… go!

… to be continued.

Just Keep Writing... (August 26 [Literacy Class])

Ideas.

Organization.

Voice.

Word Choice.

Sentence Fluency.

Conventions & Presentation.

Through my Primary Literacy Methods course I will learn how to be a better writer. I will deconstruct the writing process in order to gain insight into the world of writing, so that I might do a better job. Above are the "6 traits of writing," which if done well make for masterful pieces of writing.

I want to learn how to be a writer. I want to learn how to do it well. I want to make it a hobby, something I do for fun. Something I do to escape. Something I do to decompress. Something I do to stimulate my mind powers. Something I do to reach other people.

I have been told several times that I'm a good writer. I once turned in an internship journal and the professor proclaimed that it was one of the best things he has read ever. He also made similar remarks on my papers that I turned in for class. At one point he was willing to work with me on editing one of these papers in light of potentially having it published in a journal. However, I have since lost that paper somewhere (I'm pretty sure it's at my parents' house), and have lost the ability to access that journal for publication. I have the ability to do a lot with my words, but I don't know how.

Ideas: what am I writing about, what is the subject matter, what details make the story come alive?

Organization: what is the format of the piece? Paragraphs, single lines?

Voice: am I fully in the piece of writing, can I be heard throughout the lines, in between the lines, over the lines?

Word Choice: can I say things in a more vibrant or creative way?

Sentence Fluency: how does it flow? Do the words roll of the mental tongue or does it require work to get through it?

Conventions & Presentation: Is everything spelled correctly? How does it look on the page? Font type, size, color, pictures?

I know all of these things, and yet I'm still not sure I'm a good writer. I lack motivation. I lack inspiration. I lack the confidence to put pen to page over and over again. I fear revisiting work, because I don't feel as if it was very good to begin with, so there is nothing I can do to make it better. I have never edited a piece that I wrote since starting this project. I have merely let the words fall onto the page and walked away. There are pages and pages of poems, prose and story sitting on pages that are dying to be worked with. Remodeled, reworked, created new, but I don't. I write and walk away. There is no conventions to be hold. If it sucks it sucks, and if it's decent it probably sucks too!

I even got 2nd place at the Des Moines Poetry Slam once. I probably should have gotten 3rd, but one of the people went well over the 3 minute limit. However, nonetheless, I got to read 3 of my pieces and they liked them. I read for my friends, and they like them. I did a whole set during a show I put together and it was fun. There are shining moments of glory out there, which I should just focus on to push me forward. Then I remember the one time I went to DM Social Club's Open Circus to read a set of pieces, and it wasn't so great. The crowd wasn't into it, it was late, nobody was really there to listen, and I was well out of my element. It wasn't so great. I remember the one time I submitted pieces to be considered for publication and didn't make it. It made me a little sad, but I had no grandiose ideas of making the cut.

However, all writers will tell you that being rejected is just a part of the game. One of my professors has a bulletin board of letters of acceptance and rejection for submissions… I bet you can't guess which side has more letters on it. Our stories won't appeal to everybody, but if we let it stop us for telling them then, nobody will hear them.

I am convinced that something I have to say is going to change the life of one person in my lifetime—if it hasn't already. I just have to remember that my story is just as good as everybody elses, it is just a matter of:

Idea.

Organization.

Voice.

Word Choice.

Sentence Fluency.

Conventions & Presentation.

Keep writing world. We have work to do!

When August Ends! (August 25 [N/A])

What happens next?

Where do I go from here?

These are often the hardest questions to answer, because we really have no idea. We see life pass before our eyes and wish we could just grab a hold a go for the ride too. That's the point, I feel like, I am at right now. Nothing spectacular is happening, but I feel like I'm missing out on life, on adventure, and dreams coming true.

I have only had one day of class and I'm already back to the mindset that this is all a waste of time and money. It wasn't even a particularly difficult class to get through either, if anything it's probably a projection of my fear for tomorrow. I have 3 class back to back, and I'm scared. I'm afraid of having to do 30+ hours of practicum hours, working 30+ hours a week, doing homework, writing lesson plans, writing papers, finding time to continue writing, and anything else I might want to add to this list of things to do. This is the path I have chosen, and I want off. However, the question then becomes, what are you going to do?

I quit a full time job because I was going back to school, but my friends can attest that all I did was bitch about the job. Mostly because of the people I was working "for," who feigned a real interest in what we were doing, but didn't really put forth effort into really knowing what we did. It was bullshit, and it made me really angry to have to deal with it. That and they weren't going to pay me enough to stay part-time while I went to school—got bills to pay! I was accepted to a 2-year teaching program that would have sent me to North Carolina to teach Middle School Science, but I turned it down because I found out I got accepted to the school I am currently attending.

Before that, I studied religion and human services, volunteered at a church in Milwaukee for a year, and then starting working again. It has been a long winding path that has led to this point where I decided to write for 31 days straight. What am I doing with my life?

I don't know the answer to that either, however this isn't the point. The point is August is coming to a close, which means that this project will be wrapping up in the next week or so. This, then, means that I need to figure out what comes next. Do I keep writing? Do I take a break? Do I revisit older pieces and make them better? Do I embark on different creative projects? I don't know.

Hopefully by the time this month is over I will have a better picture of what the next few months will look like in terms of school and such. Then I can really figure out what comes next. Some of the ideas I have had are presented above, but then an interesting idea was to take pictures for these writings, or other writings to I suppose would work as well (since some of these aren't very good).

I have never been really into taking pictures, other to document cool stuff I have witness along the way: trip to Denver, trip to Milwaukee, Root Beer, etc. I have never really been into taking pictures, but it could be an interesting challenge—find visuals for the pieces I write. Or take pictures and write pieces about them. Remembering the moment, the feelings, the time, the day, everything about it captured in a single frame, then turned into some magical words. I don't know.

I just needed to write for today, since I fell behind, and this is what came out. I'm sure there are more meaningful things I could write about, but the goal was to write every day, not neccesarily produce works of art. So there!

Nonetheless.

Almost there… but not quite! (August 24 [N/A])

I fell behind on this project.

I started classes today, and I should have wrote last night but I didn't.

I just want it to be over.

Now is the time where the fun has left the project, and I want to quit, but I can't. I can't stop.

If I stop now, I'll not start again for another 6 months and I really want to hone my craft.

I want to be good at something; I want to be known for something; I want to be actively participating in a community again.

This is my little freak out rant page. It's been 25 days of this challenge, and I tell you it hasn't been easy. Finding the time, energy and inspiration has been really tough. Now with only 5 days left, you think I would have hit my stride, but I haven't. If anything I've only slowed down.

Here's hoping I can come up with something to carry me through the next 5 days, so you can read all of these and see how badly I have done this month.

Some of them aren't so bad, but still. Not great!


 

Drinking the Kool-Aid. (August 23 [Everybody])

Note: The following list is taken directly from http://www.acts29network.org/about/distinctives/. I have not altered, manipulated, or in any way/shape/form changed the information that is to be presented. I merely copied and pasted the pieces that I found particularly interesting. They are in the order that they are found on the website, but without all of the information. This is not an attack on this network, nor an attack on people who feel these things to be true. Merely an expression of some of the thoughts that these lines have produced in my mind. By all means, feel free to think what you want—I am but one man! There are also other churches who present similar views, just take a few minutes and google some churches and read their belief statements. They are out there, you just have to look!

THE DOCTRINAL DISTINCTIVES OF ACTS 29

Acts 29 is a network of church-planting churches that stands in the tradition of historic evangelical confessionalism. While we believe it is vital that the Elders of each of our local churches determine where they stand on doctrines of second importance, we do wish to make known our convictions on the following five distinctive theological foundations.

  1. We believe the gospel is the good news of what God has graciously accomplished for sinners through the sinless life, sacrificial death, and bodily resurrection of his Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ, namely our forgiveness from sin and complete justification before God
    1. This Gospel is not only the means by which people are saved, but also the truth and power by which people are sanctified
    2. The salvation offered in this gospel message is received by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone; no ordinance, ritual, work, or any other activity on the part of man is required in order to be saved.
  2. We believe that through the work of the Holy Spirit, God will draw the elect to faith in his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, graciously and effectually overcoming their stubborn resistance to the gospel so that they will most assuredly and willingly believe.
    1. We also believe that these, the elect of God whom he gave to the Son, will persevere in belief and godly behavior and be kept secure in their salvation by grace through faith.
  3. The Holy Spirit who indwelt and empowered Christ in like manner indwells and empowers us through spiritual gifts he has bestowed for the work of ministry and the building up of the body of Christ.
    1. We all recognize that they are divine provisions central to spiritual growth and effective ministry and are to be eagerly desired, faithfully developed, and lovingly exercised according to biblical guidelines.
  4. Both men and women are together created in the divine image and are therefore equal before God as persons, possessing the same moral dignity and value, and have equal access to God through faith in Christ
    1. Therefore, women are to be encouraged, equipped, and empowered to utilize their gifting in ministry, in service to the body of Christ, and through teaching in ways that are consistent with the Word of God.
    2. God has given to the man primary responsibility to lead his wife and family in accordance with the servant-leadership and sacrificial love characterized by Jesus Christ.
    3. The Elders/Pastors of each local church have been granted authority under the headship of Jesus Christ to provide oversight and to teach/preach the Word of God in corporate assembly for the building up of the body.
    4. The office of Elder/Pastor is restricted to men.
  5. We are called to make Christ known through the gospel and, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to bring his lordship to bear on every dimension of life.
    1. The primary way we fulfill this mission is through the planting of churches that plant churches and the training of their leaders
    2. We also believe we are responsible neither to retreat from our culture nor to conform to it, but with humility, through the Spirit and the truth of the gospel, to engage it boldly as we seek its transformation and submission to the lordship of Christ.

Welcome to the (near) fall. The time of year that things begin to change. The weather cools. The leaves turn colors as the trees prepare for their yearly slumber. The birds start flying to their more habitable vacation spots. The animals start gathering food more fervently as to stock up for the coming months. And I. I begin to get back into academic mode. I begin to search out the tough questions that my soul feels need answering. I begin to yearn for new knowledge and new insights into things that I previously felt I had a grasp on. I begin to rethink my theological stances, and divine understandings.

This is the time of year, about when school starts back up, that I begin to dig into the mainstream faith systems of people I know and respect in order to make sense of it. This is usually some random piece of Christian theology that seems to contradict itself, or at least my understanding of the faith tradition.

You see, I like learning things. I like making people uncomfortable by presenting information about their faith system that they may not get exposed to during their weekly romp with the divine. However, it should be stated, that I am no expert—by any means. I have a bachelors from a Lutheran school, where I studied religion, but this is not a worthwhile credential. I has provided me with a little foundation to better explore the world of theology. My mentors and friends have provided me with tools and insights that have allowed me to look into the abyss that is theology, and I like to use those tools and insights to stir up trouble.

With all of that being said, I would like to address some things that I have come across lately. Maybe it will be interesting, maybe it will be stupid. What matters is that I share it so that maybe my mind will let go of it enough for it to slip past. I have a firm grip on it right now and it is beginning to hurt my mind hands, so let us journey into the darkness that is my mind in hopes of providing some relief to my tired sour. Fasten your seatbelts, this is going to be fast and dirty….

Grace is a free gift provided to the world by god through the sacrifice of his only begotten son.

Grace has to be fully and knowingly accepted in order to be fully passed on to the recipient here on earth.

This grace is talked about in the gospels, which translates as good news. So, it is only good news to those who knowingly and fully accept the gift, which is free… but requires us to accept it first in order for it to be ours.

When we accept this not-so-free gift, we are given special powers, which have to be used/monitored/whatever by scriptural standards, which may/may not be found in the gospels.

These special powers also allow men to be leaders and women to the loving/caring side of Jesus.

Women, then, cannot be leaders in the church because they should be loving/caring for their husbands and such.

Then, we're supposed to bring in people and teach them these things so that they might go forth and create more like-minded folks.

Now, like I said previously, this is just one manifestation of a faith system that people live out and push forth into the world. I paraphrased, or rather interpreted what they had posed on their website in the lines above so that there is a basis for what comes next. You see, this is one of the problems with today's churches. They bring people in, they create like-minded folks, and then send them out into the world so that they can do the same. I am not against churches; I am not against pastors; I am not against longing to be a part of a community; I am not against a lot of things in this world, which is probably the cause of a lot of my problems.

I do have a problem with people taking advantage of the lay folks in their communities. They know that the people sitting in the pews, or the chairs, or whatever, do not have an interest in understanding what the bible really says about things. They know that the average person doesn't have a vested interest in the life of ancient Jews or people living in the Middle East 2000 years ago. They know that the people want to hear the gospel, and then go on about their lives for the rest of the week. So what happens? We tell them the things that we want them to think the bible says. We tell them the things that will make them feel comfortable in their shoes as they walk through the rest of their week. We create in them a sense of pride and prejudice—a veritable list of what's ok and what's not ok so that they do not stray too far from the line we want them to toe.

In the modern era of America, it is all about toeing a line: in church, at work, in friendship circles, on the internet, in our faith systems, in our belief systems, in our political stances, etc. There are expectations, and the church leaders are one source of the rules and regulations.

We have to train our congregations in the way of the good follower: men are the leaders; grace is free only to those who accept it; God will send you to hell if you do not accept his free gift of grace; women are supposed to the loving/caring partners to men; we are also supposed to sacrifice ourselves for the good of god; we are supposed to convert people to think like us; and the list of things to accomplish in your community, in the name of god goes on and on forever. Depending on the church, the denomination, the pastor, or the network that a church belongs to the lists differ slightly, but it is always a list of things that they believe should be carried out in the world today.

However, I would urge the church leaders to take a more realistic approach.

Claiming that the bible is the inerrant word of God written 2000+ years ago by several different authors; whose books were chosen by a series of staunch old men sitting around a table with a specific agenda; and is a series of guideposts for life in the 21st century is a dangerous road to travel. However, we do it so well that it is scary.

Inspiration à Inerrancy is the vein of thought here.

The Bible is written by men, who were inspired by God, which makes it infallible.

Hopefully any semi-educated person can see the failed logic in these accusations.

One can be inspired by a god, and be wrong.

The crusades; the holocaust; the war on terror; the war on drugs; the American dream; the isolation, desolation and desecration of many nations all over this country and beyond; all inspired in some part by a god… does that make them right or infallible, or inerrant? No. Most people would say that these were horrible events in the history of people. However, some churches would have us believe that such events are God's wrath being displayed in our world in order to keep us inline. It shows us that god's willingness to torture and torment us if we do not obey his commands, which were supposed to be fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

There are holes in this logic and it makes me wonder: what are we really supposed to be doing here? Are we supposed to be living to avoid the wrath of some vengeful deity that simultaneously send his love and smack the shit out of us? Or are we supposed to take the love that has been given to us and spread it like wildfire to those who surround us; like Jesus said, "Love thy neighbor." There are 2 parts to the Bible: old and new, and the theme of love is everywhere, but we are supposed to fear a vengeful god will condemn us fully and eternally to fire and brimstone.

I don't know.

The grip of my mind's hands is slipping.

My understanding of this will never be fully developed, because as long as there are people willing to take the Bible and create doctrine and stances there will forever be logical flaws.

Be careful when looking for a church, if that is your thing.

Do some reading.

Do some studying.

Do some real thinking about the messages that are being sent into the world by the people who are leading the herd.

We have to love people. Grace is free. Women can be pastors. Look it up, it's there; over and over again.

This is the modern era, and we shouldn't be taking life cues from a culture, religion, and people that lived 2000+ years ago. It is a collection of essays, letters, poems, and random writings pieced together to support a particular agenda—keep this in mind when your church leader starts quoting pieces of these writings as absolute truth for your life today.

Mottos, morals, and words of wisdom are one thing… condemning people today, because of what was customary then is something else entirely.

Where is the love? (August 22 [Everyone])

Warning: The first few lines of this piece are lyrics from a song. The song is called "King Park" by La Dispute. For the rest of the lyrics, just google it. I am using these lines from the song as a spring board into this piece. I have been listening to this band for a while this week, and have had many conversations about a lot of things. Thus, I want to take some time on this Friday evening to process them with you. It may be short, but it may be long. Who knows? You have been warned, so no freaking out!

I thought to slip through the door, I could've entered the room,
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core.
Felt like the world was collapsing. Then we heard him speak,
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?
It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they send me to hell?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
I left the hotel behind, don't want to know how it ends.

    (Excerpt from "King Park" by La Dispute)


 

This is the last part of the song, the very last haunting words that sung before it ends.

For those of you who are not going to read the rest of the lyrics, nor listen to the song, let me paint you a picture of what has happened up until this point:

  • There is a drive by shooting, a young person shoots another one. The one who gets shot was not the intended target, but dies anyway.
  • The singer takes the perspective of a neighbor who wants to know what happened, so he becomes a ghost (of sorts) to travel back in time to get up close and personal during the shooting.
    • He wants to see the mom, the kid, the body, the blood, etc.
  • Then, there is the funeral where the mom has to bury her son.
  • Word then spreads of where the shooter is residing, holed up in a hotel; the cops surround the place, and the singer is there too.
  • The shooter's uncle is there pleading with him to come out, speaking of forgiveness, and then we get to the final scene, which is provided above.

In this scene we don't see anything, but hear the plea of the shooter. However, there is no resolution, what happened to the shooter? What happened to the uncle? What happened to the mom of the kid who was buried? What happened to the neighborhood? What happened to the rest of the gang? What happened to the person who was supposed to have been shot? All of these questions, and more are left unanswered as the storyteller fades back into his life. He gets up close and personal for a moment, and then leaves. Although, there is a line in the song that says something to the effect of I want to write it all down so I never forget… but still. No real resolution. No answers. No closure. Nothing.

This is usually what happens in the media: we get up close and personal with a story (usually from a single perspective) and then we are left wondering, because they only show a part of the story. There is no "rest of the story" as Paul Harvey once provided us. We are left to assume the worst, and hope for the best—maybe it wasn't so bad; maybe it got better; maybe they survived; maybe they won; maybe they didn't die. No, they died, we just didn't hear about it. No, they didn't survive, it was that bad, the never win, and it never gets better. That's the way of the world, that's the way of life… or so we are led to believe. However, the real question is, what are we doing about it? We sit back, relax, and watch the news tell us exactly what they want us to believe. We are trained to overlook disparities in life; we are coerced to see things from a single perspective, listening to a single story; we are offered only the most entertaining and titillating pieces of news to tie us over until the next big thing scrolls across our monitors. It's sad.

What we don't get to see is the effect the news has on the other. What about the families of the person who is sentenced to life in prison for killing somebody? What about the family of the person who was killed? What about the neighborhood where it took place, how are they dealing with it? Who are we to assume anything about the people, places or events that happened without having been there? Who are we to assume that the murderer is a heartless being who killed the kid in cold blood? You aren't them, you don't know.

"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself? Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?"

There is this concept that runs rampant in a lot of the Christian circles that I used to run in, and it's something they like to call "Grace." Grace is the concept that allows for the pardon of past discretions for the hope of a better forever. It is the ability to look past indiscretions to see the person as a person. A lot of times this concept gets played out superficially, in that people use it as an excuse to do shitty things to other people. However, when paired with the commandment of Jesus to Love thy neighbor, it takes on a whole new power. To love your neighbor and provide them with grace, means that you look past their indiscretions, because God does. This does not mean you have to like them; this does not mean you are not allowed to have an emotional reaction to their presence; but you have to give them grace with love. God forgives, god provides grace, god loves indefinitely, and we are called to do the same.

As Christians, we do a lot of talking about things, but never seem to get beyond that. There is a lot of talk about being like Jesus, living a life like Jesus, following Jesus as a role model, taking up a daily cross, loving people. When does it stop being lip service and start becoming an action plan? When do we stop fighting about whether or not homosexuals should be able to get married based on laws written over 2000 years ago, and start loving them because they are a part of creation? When we do stop telling people how to live their lives and what to do with their bodies based orally transmitted stories that are over 2000 years old? When do we stop claiming that we are pro-life, but rejoice at somebody being sentenced to death?

Where is the love?

Where is the grace?

Where is the "Christ-like" life that is talked about all the time?

I'm no different, except I don't talk about things.

I keep my mouth shut instead of speak out against the things I see wrong in the world.

I stand by and watch my brothers and sisters struggle day in, and day out, because I'm a coward.

I told my boss/friend the other day that I care a lot about a lot of things, but I can't stand stupid so I don't talk about them.

Instead of having to deal with the ignorance of the masses, I stay silent and join the masses. I stand silently in the back shaking my head and constructing rants to be posted on the internet (must like this one). This is what I do instead of taking action, instead of having the hard conversations, asking the hard questions, pushing for change in my community… I'm a coward.

I would rather be a part of the silent majority than rightfully prosecuted for sticking up for those I know need my help.

I would rather be seen as an innocent bystander, than one who is willing to fight for what is right at any cost.

I would rather be the shadow writing the details of the murder down so as to not forget, then be the uncle pleading outside of the hotel room… preaching about forgiveness.

I get so angry when I read articles about social justice issues that never go far enough. We always highlight the problem, but never present the solutions that we're trying. Angry because I'm not doing anything either. I want to be told what to do. I want to join somebody else's cause, because it's less work. I want to fight behind somebody else, because that way if it gets too hairy I can just duck out. I'm unwilling to commit to the fight if I know I could get hurt… or worse.

I want to make a difference in this world; I want to enact change; I want to see things stopped; I want people to be fully informed; I want to see how the story ends, because it's always a happy ending in the movies.

I see the beginning of the story. I see the middle of the story. I close my eyes before the end, because I'm afraid that I'll have missed my chance to act.

Is it my turn yet?

Can I say something?

Are you listening?

It doesn't matter what the issue. There is always something that can be done. Now is the time to take a stand, out of love and with grace, for the changes that we want to be in the world.

If only…

"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"

"It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!"

"And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they send me to hell?"

Will god let me in if I kill myself? Will god see what I've done in this life and tell me I left things undone, unsaid, unaccomplished? We operate out of fear of hell. We operate out of fear of death. We freeze ourselves in place so that we don't make the wrong move. Let's warm up. Let's move around. Let's make some differences in the lives of people who live through hell, here and now.

I'm a coward; afraid to take a public stand against/for anything.

Will you help me?

Will you stand outside my door and bed me to forgive.

Will you shadow me to document my progress?

Will you join me in the battle for change?

I can start by myself, but without the help of others a movement quickly dies. Let us start a movement that is unstoppable. Let us give grace, spread love, and change the world… one person at a time!

Elephants Never Forget, but I wish I could... (August 21 [Cecelia])

There is an adage that goes, "An elephant never forgets."

This is witnessed in the wild as they stop at places where they have lost loved ones; they grieve at the side of the deceased for days; they maintain a mental map of all the best grub spots; and they're just magnificent beasts.

They are the largest land animal we have around today. They can trample anything. They eat a ton. They drink a ton (but not through their trunks). They roll in the dirt. They play. They fight. They circle the wagons when in danger. It's awesome. Plus, they never forget.

They hold on to things. They remember things forever. They don't let go of their loved ones. They don't move on. They move forward while still maintaining the life that they once had as well. The forge ahead in spite of the pain, in spite of the loss, in spite of everything….

Is it healthy?

Is it the right thing to do?

It works for the elephants, but it doesn't work for me.

If I were an elephant I would want to move on. I would have a clean break. I would want to know that if I leave somebody behind (for the right reasons of course), that their mojo is not going to haunt me for the rest of my days. I don't want to remember everything. I don't want to hang on to everything. I don't want to continue living life as a single steam of consciousness. I want to forget.

I want to move on with my life as if certain things never happened. All of those times that bring back nightmares; all of those times that send me into cold sweats; all of those times… I would much rather forget that they happened and move on with life as if it were sunshine and rainbows. The dark times in life that have molded me into the person I am today will always be there, but I don't want to remember.

I want to live life in the sunshine.

I want to live life under the rainbow.

I want to live life for the future, without having to constantly battle the demons of my past. I put them to rest, and yet they keep coming back. They remind me of that one time… They remind me of that one place… they remind me. They are like an elephant, they never forget to remind me of everything!

I've told the stories to everybody who feigned an interest in listening.

I've recounted the events in writing over and over again: journals, blogs, rants, raves, poems, etc.

I finally got to a place where the dreams had subsided. I entered a place where my soul was at ease and was making forward progress. Let's remember that. Let's hold onto that. Let's go there.

I can never forget what has happened in my life. I will always grieve my lost loved ones. I will always remember "that one time, at that one place." People, places and events are all engrained in my heart, soul and mind.

Just like the adage goes, "Elephants never forget," but sometimes I wonder if they wish they could… I know I do!

Nothing. (August 20 [N/A])

Sitting at the dining room table, we reflect on our day.

We remember the funny joke from work.

We recall the long day we had on our feet.

We recount the good times, the bad times, and the alright times of our day with those we love the most.

Now what?

We always stop in the middle of the story. We tell our part, and then that's it. We never fill in the rest. I am left wondering, and? What comes next? What happened next?

Now what?

Every day there are horrible things happening to people all over the world: famine, disease, pain, suffering, homelessness, persecution and pre-mature death.

Here we are sitting down, at our nice table, in our nice house, with our nice family, complaining that our co-workers don't know how to sell cars as well as they should. Or, how our feet hurt from having to stand up for an 8-hour shift at the store. We sit, we talk, we complain, we do nothing.

When it comes to the greater good your feet mean nothing. When it comes to the pain and suffering in the world, your opinion of your co-worker is probably more damaging than helpful.

Now what?

What are we doing?

Where are we going?

Nowhere.

Bodies all around. (August 19 [Lauren/Peter])

Take off your clothes.

Stand in front of the mirror.

What do you see?

Do you see an object to be gawked at, judged and ridiculed? Do you see a piece of meat that is subject to whatever the other would like to do with it: marinade, tenderize, cut up, etc.? Or do you see something beautiful: something worth more than anybody can ever imagine? Do you see something that is perfect just the way it is? Do you? Do you see it? Do you see self-worth, value and esteem?

I don't.

When I look in the mirror, I see a reminder of all the poor choices I have made in my life. My eyes meet their reflection in the mirror and begin showing pictures of what life once was; what they have seen; what they should have seen; what they wanted to see. They transmit all of these images into my brain in the matter of seconds. Constant reminders that my body is not a wonderland.

I have scars on my hands, on my face, and on my legs. Constant reminders of events in my past that happened and took a part of me. They ripped a piece out of me so that they could hold on to me forever…

I have tattoos on my arms and legs. Adornments for my temple—if you have to live in one, might as well make it as beautiful as possible. However what you don't see are the scars since faded. The torment that my flesh went through in an attempt to protect my soul from being ripped out. Life ripped more of me out, but I still had my soul. My temple walls held and the enemy was averted, but they left with a forever reminder of me. A piece of my body.

My body, is no wonderland.

As I stand in front of the mirror, I can't help but wonder, "Where did I go wrong?"

I never got tall, I got wide. I go to bed every night, but still I carry the worries of the previous day on my face. I'm tired. There are moments when my body is saying, "No more. We can't do it today." But I have to. I have to keep on, otherwise I will fall out and be lost forever. I sacrifice my body for the good of the world, and it hates me for it. I participate in the daily grind. I walk around all day. I sit, stand, squat, bend, and rotate for the other.

My body, is no wonderland.

I have never been objectified as a piece of ass, because I'm a man. I am the one who objectifies others as such. Nobody looks at me and wonders what kind of lay I am. Nobody is checking out my ass as I walk by wondering how much I put out. Nobody is looking at my chest and thinking about shoving their face in it and making baby noises. I don't have to put up with this, and neither should you.

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

I want to see the real me. I want to see the me that other people experience when they greet me on the street. I want to see what you see in me.

If only you could see what I see you in.

You are more than an ass and tits. You are more than long legs in tight shorts. You are more than that, and you need to know that.

My body may not be a wonderland, but yours isn't either.

Your body is not a place of magical experiences. It is your temple, it is your soul-home, and it is yours to be proud of.

My body is no wonderland, but it's mine. I was provided with this vessel and I'm going to make the best of it.

I will continue to wear and cover my scars. I will continue to look in the mirror and be reminded of my bad choices. I will continue wondering what other people see in me. I will continue to fight for you to do the same.

My body may not be a wonderland, but it's all I got.

Working. (August 18 [River])

Working.

The daily grind.

The lower your head and do as you're told.

The seen doing things, but never asked to contribute to the greater conversation.

The expectation that you intuitively know what comes next.

The way you feel words being spoken about you behind your back.

The way the heads of the company look at you when you approach the offices.

The double standards that are in place that don't hold everybody accountable.

The illusion that everything is as grand as it should be.

The detriment that the leaderships lack of understanding plays throughout the organization.

The way you and your coworkers can't do a damn thing about it.

The way you want to quit, but there are no other jobs available.

The way you want to say something, but can't risk losing your job.

The way you want the best for the clients, but can't give it to them because there is no support.

The way the kids hate the leaders of the organization as much as you do.

The way you want to burn the place down.

The way you can't stop.

The way you want to stop.

The false accolades for doing your job.

The lack of accolades for doing your job.

The need for you to do the jobs of 3 other people to keep your organization running.

The fallacies that are told to the community about all the great work that is being done.

The pictures of "great work" and "great opportunities that flood the papers and the internet.

The work that has to be done.

The work that needs to be done.

The fact that what has to be done isn't what needs to be done.

The way the leaders of the organization expect more of their subordinates than they do themselves.

The way there is not a helping hand to be seen when there is real work to be done.

The way there are always hands coming up to the top of the ladder when meaningless tasks need to be accomplished.

The puckered lips fly towards any surface that is unworthy of being touched.

The stench of rotting ambition fills the nostrils of those who long to do more.

The way your soul dies a little every time you get called into the office for a "talk."

The way you hate everything about your job.

The way you don't hate everything about your job, just some parts.

The way you hate everything about your job except the real work that you get to do.

The way you love the clients.

The way you love the extended circle of clients.

The way you wish the leaders of your company would actually get to know the clients.

The way you wish the leaders of your company would truly give a shit about what was going on.

The way you would require the leaders to do real work with the clients in order to stay in power.

The view from below the ivory tower doesn't get any better with time.

The leaders never figure it out.

The machine keeps turning and burning.

The machine keeps eating souls and devouring lives.

The few who make it out alive, can look back and worry about their friends, their colleagues, and their clients.

I made it out alive.

Some of my friends made it out alive.

Still others are slaves to the machine that is the organization.

Hopefully the day will come when a bright light is shone on their work, and the lies brought to the surface.

Until then, we can move on with our lives and hope to find greener pastures to work in.

God bless you all who work for the (wo)man, and haven't found the light yet.

God bless you all who work for the (wo)man and made it out alive.

May we all find solace in the work we are called to do, and not be tortured (mind, body and soul) by the powers that run these organizations with a fist of fury that knows no bounds. They rule from on high, without the slightest real concern for what happens below.

Suck it up. Keep your head down. Nose to the grindstone. Do it for the kids. Don't lose your soul to an organization that doesn't care!

The Binary of Life. (August 17 [Amanda])

Life dictates that you either belong to one thing or another:

Male or Female

Fat or Skinny

Tall or Short

Smart or Dumb

Loud or Quiet

Introvert or Extrovert

White or Non-White

The list can really go on forever, however it extends beyond just an outward label.

Everything in life is dictated by the camp that one falls into: the type of movies you like, the type of magazines you read, the types of toys you play with, the type of music you listen to. Everything is binary: this or that. There is no room for a middle.

You are either a boy or a girl.

You are either this or that.

You are either the best or the worst.

So, what happens when people break free of the binary and operate on a sliding scale? A continuum of experience and existence? A varied life full of fun and adventure? What happens when somebody doesn't fit into the binary system that has been created by society?

What then?

They are forced to choose. They are ostracized. They are shunned. They are beat. They are killed. They are forever damaged by the world that they so long to be a part of. Just because they don't fit into this or that. They fit into something else… the or perhaps is where they live. Forever in flux between this and that; forever flowing through life as if there are no boundaries as to who they can be; forever being themselves in a world that doesn't appreciate truly being free to express anything.

The world is open to expression as long as it fits into the binary system: a boy can express himself as long as it's in a manly way; a girl can express herself as long as it sexual and appealing to men; a smart person can express themselves as long as they never slip up and have a brain fart. Heaven forbid that we break character for even a second. Once you are grouped that is the role you play forever, unless you want to be kicked out of life forever!

You break character, you no longer exist.

You break character and the ones who had your back, your bros, your girlfriends, will leave you. You will stand alone in the middle of your once heralded life wondering what went wrong, and the answer is you. Society gave you a character to play, and you decided that it wasn't the right fit; figured you'd try something else on for size… wrong! The binary of life dictates that you are either this or that: no room for change, no time for negotiation—the world is moving on with or without you. The world doesn't need you to keep the cogs of life rolling, but just the opposite is true—you need the world to merely exist.

The binary of life can't be escaped, unless of course we change the way we see the world. Instead of having two categories for everything, can't we all just get a long and freely express what we feel?

Nope.

The system would implode and the world would come to an end.

The world forbid gay people get married.

The world forbid cops stop shooting unarmed black people.

The world forbid we can all just be ourselves and live according to who we are on the inside.

No more hiding. No more shaming. No more pain.

If a guy wants to look at a crafting magazine, he should be allowed to without having to defend his masculinity to his bros. If a gal is interested in heavy artillery and hunting, she should be allowed to shoot big guns and kill animals without having to pose with the guns in a bikini to defend her sexual availability. It's okay to have varied interests, it's okay to do what makes you happy, and you shouldn't have to defend yourself to anybody—especially not the world.

The binary of life dictates everything, but it doesn't have to. It gets its power from us, the ones who buy into the ideas it stands for. The us and them mentality; the other; those people; the lesser; it's all the same just different contexts. We buy into it, we support it, we give it life and eventually it takes over. We have to fight, we have to stand together and say, "No more!"

Boys will be boys, but what that looks like doesn't have to be the same across the board. Some boys are into poetry and coloring, while others are into mechanical things. Boys will be boys, and they should be allowed to be whatever boy they feel they want to be at that moment.

Let toys be toys; let colors be colors; let boys be boys; and let girls be girls.

It's going to be okay… even if boys wear nail polish!

The Straight Edge Bartender. (August 16 [BMFK (Brett])

Tonight is the night.

Tonight is the night that I take the stage by storm.

Tonight is the night that I don't make any mistakes.

Tonight is the night that I stand tall, and proud, and handsome.

Tonight is the night that it comes together.

Tonight is the night that I finally take the first step towards my goal.

Tonight is the night I become the Straight Edge Bartender.

I have never taken the steps to, formally, be introduced to the topic.

I have never consumed alcohol in my life.

I have never mixed a drink.

I have never poured a beer.

I have never poured a shot.

I have never shaken, nor stirred, a martini.

I have never been bought a shot, and nor been beckoned to "drink with us."

I have never stood behind a bar and listened to the woes of the sorrowful man sitting across from me at 1am.

Will you teach me?

Will you show me what it takes to be a good tender of the bar?

Will you enlighten me in the ways that only a listener of constant problems can do?

Will you push me into the abyss that is the bar, and watch as I sink or swim on my own?

Will you jump in with me, as I take the plunge into the great unknown?

Will you stand by me and help me along the way, like a true mentor and friend would do?

Will you listen to my sorrows from across the bar as I milk my Root Beer at 1am, on my day off?

Will you pull me out when it becomes too much to handle?

I know this all sounds absurd, that I don't know what I'm getting myself into.

I know that I have what it takes to make a difference in this world, be it bar or classroom.

I know I have a listening ear, and a consoling spirit.

I know that there is more to tending bar than knowing what goes in a Shirley temple, or a sex on the beach, or a screwdriver.

I know you think I'm crazy, but isn't it just memorization of numbers and experimentation with flavors?

I know I can do anything I put my mind to… I've mastered the Straight Edge Pipe Salesman.

I know you're not really going to help me out.

I know you're going to stand back, watch, and laugh as I make a fool out of myself for the first 3 months.

I know that after the first 3 months, you're going to be shocked at how well I am doing.

The adventure begins here.

The adventure beings now.

The adventure of the Straight Edge Bartender!


 


 

Monday, August 18, 2014

If I were a turtle... (August 15 [Colin via Amanda])


Whenever you watch any version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, you are pulling for one of them to outshine the others. Maybe you're a Michelangelo fan, or pull for Raphael, or maybe Leonardo… all I know is, I was always a Donatello fan.
I never understood, though, why he had a stick. It wasn't an impressive weapon, but the smart one had the stick.
Teddy Roosevelt once said, "Walk softly and carry a big stick!"
Teddy Roosevelt was smart too—probably!
As you watch all the versions of this franchise, you will also notice that nobody ever really dies. The foot clan hobble off to their holes; Shredder always comes back like Jesus, and even Beebop and Rocksteady always show up later on. So, what do the other turtles need with the blade weapons? They aren't killing anybody, merely parlaying blows so that they can kick or punch their opponent—Donatello does just fine with a stick. Same techniques, no killing, and he's the smart one.
Sure nun chucks look cook, as do swords and those pitchfork things Raphael uses, but the stick works just fine.
What's the point?
I don't know. I have hit a wall in terms of writing rants, creative pieces, and all the like. I am half way through this month, hit a personal funk, and want to finish what I started. I have to write 31 things this month, and have been slipping up lately—doing 2 in one day, because I fell asleep being doing work the day before.
This is not my time of year. The stress is piling on, and school hasn't even started back yet (2 more weeks). I wish I could be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
Forever ageless.
Forever awesome.
Forever ridding the city of evil.
That's what I want to do with my life: be awesome and rid the world of evil. Yet, here I am forcing myself to write things for no real reason but to say I did it—look at me I can write things down every day for a month. People do it all the time, which means it isn't anything particularly special.
If I were a turtle though, my brothers and I would go about kicking butt and taking names forever fighting for the good in the world.
If I were a turtle though, I could eat pizza all the time and have awesome vehicles that are designed to travel through the sewers at high speeds.
If I were a turtle though, I could change the world one foot solider at a time—winning them to go right side of the law, or kick them in the face!
The world would be a better place if I were a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but alas I am not. I'm a 27 year old graduate student, who is biding him time before taking another stab at changing the world… but if I were a 27 year old Mutant Turtle… wait… nevermind!

Something about fear. (August 14 [Cecelia])


I don't know where I'm going with this one, so we'll just lock ourselves into our seats and enjoy the ride.
There is a lot I don't know.
There are a lot of things I wish I knew more about, and likewise things I wish I knew just little bit less about.
There are things I don't understand, which is not to say that I do not have working knowledge of the systems that make some things possible. I know what caused it, but that doesn't mean I understand why it had to happen in the first place.
There are times when I wish the world would just end by whatever means the universe has in store for us. It would just easier to bring all of this nonsense to a close, than have to deal with it any longer… right?
Instead of fighting to change the people of the world, let's just change the world into an orbiting pile of space dust… easy!
People never change, for the better anyway. No matter how hard we pray, we riot, we protest, we write, we speak, we sit, we stand… no matter how hard we do anything, or try to do anything, things always seem to get worse.
The war on drugs.
The war on terror.
Prohibition.
Police states.
Militarizing police officers.
Shooting people.
One of the most overlooked cities takes another hit as it floods following the highest rainfall in 89 years.
What the fuck is going on?
Fear.
People fear what they don't understand.
People fear things that are outside: outside of their comfort zone; outside of their neighborhood; outside of their social class; outside of their church; outside of their city; outside of their mental picture of what the American Dream should mean for all people.
People fear the other: other people; other ideas; other places; other human beings being afforded the same rights and privileges that they do.
People fear.
This is not to say that it is not okay to have fear. This is not to say that having fear is a bad thing. Fear, at times, keeps us alive; gives us the necessary boost to make it through vicarious situations. However, when that fear becomes a weapon against other people that's where the line should be drawn and somebody punched in the throat repeatedly.
It is one thing to be afraid of spiders, or the dark, or clowns.
It's another thing entirely to be afraid of black people to the point where we arm police officers with military style weapons and give them permission to shoot on sight.
It's one thing to be afraid of death, or driving, or even getting married.
It's another thing entirely to be afraid of the potential backlash for stepping out of your neighborhood to offer a helping hand to a city that has been destroyed over the past years, and has now been flooded to the point where there is no real certainty that it will ever recover.
Maybe it's God's way of showing mercy… but I doubt it. I don't feel as if any god would want police officers to wield large weapons against citizens who are equally afraid of what might happen to them in the coming days. Who knows...?
I fear a lot of things.
I harbor a lot of fears in my spiritual cavity: I fear death. I fear getting the afterlife situation wrong. I fear losing the people I care about the most. I fear not doing anything with my life. I fear for the safety of friends and family in the far reaches of the world. I fear to the point where I become paralyzed. I fear to the point where I give up trying and just start hoping for the end to come soon and painlessly. I fear that the world will not end soon enough, or that the world isn't going to end until everybody knows what it's like to suffer—that would be a divine comedy if there ever was one; truly tragic as well.
There is so much pain in the world; so much hurt; so much hunger; so much loss; so much fear. What are we doing to stop it? Nothing. What are doing to quell the suffering of the other? Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Our fear has paralyzed us, and we are not willing to rethink our positions to help out. Instead we would rather put on our riot gear, get our tear gas, get our dogs, and get ready for war in our own backyards. Instead of loving our neighbors as ourselves, we're ready to kill to protect what is ours—nothing less and everything more. My fear drives me to take what isn't mine, so that I can call it mine, and there is yet more room for me to harbor my fear and protect myself from the things that I fear the most.
Give me space. Give me time. Give me fear.
When will it end?
What is taking the universe so long to eat our planet?
Why aren't my prayers for a swift and painless cleansing of this place being heard?
Where is this god of mercy that calls us to love each other?
Where?
I don't know.
I fear a lot of things, but I mostly fear other people. People who chose war over peace; pain over pleasure; themselves over the greater good. I know that I'm not perfect; I know that I have a lot of work to do; and I also know that I'm not going to shoot people for expressing their pain and anger. I fear… this is just the beginning of a long repeated cycle.
History repeats itself, and fear perpetuates it.
When will we change that? When will we decide that enough is enough and it's time to travel a different path?
Probably never, but hopefully soon!
You would think people would get tired of the same stories, but we eat what we're fed or we starve.
I fear…
Everything!

What about Tuesday? (August 13 [Brandon])


Do you have a case of the Mondays?
Do you thank God that it is Friday?
Are you working for the weekend?
Happy Hump Day!
Are you enjoying your "Friday Eve?"
We have all of these celebratory acts that highlight the benefit or detriment for every day of the week, except for Tuesday.
What's Tuesday you ask? Well you see, Tuesday is the day that occurs between Monday and Wednesday. You get a case of the Mondays, and then Tuesday happens, and then it's hump day. It's a magical thing that exists there towards the beginning of the week, but never gets any recognition as being a part of the weekly family.
Here are some things you should know about Tuesdays:
  1. They're real. If you look at any calendar you will see right between Monday and Wednesday, there's Tuesday!
  2. They're a good day to get things done—a productive day. Since you're not sure they were really real, you were probably unaware of how productive you were on this day as well. When we have nothing to worry about (since it doesn't exist), we tend not to pay attention to what we're actually doing. Think about it. Do you get anything done on the other 4 days of the work week? Do you still have a job? Chances are Tuesdays are when you get your shit done!
  3. Taco Bell has "Taco Tuesdays," where you can get $0.49 hard shell tacos—added bonus for knowing the day exists!
So you see, there is a lot of benefit to having Tuesdays around. If only you weren't too busy working for the weekend, you might stop and enjoy it every once and a while.
*This message brought to you by all the Tuesdays that you overlooked, because you were focusing on all the other days of the week. Thanks a lot jerk!

Digging to China: One Line at a Time. (August 12 [N/A])

Back in the day, where was a kid who wanted to know how many licks it took to get to the center of a tootsie pop—even though he was talking to mostly animals, which is weird—he eventually came upon an owl. Now, owls are typically sages of wisdom, and this one is no different. 1—2—3—Chomp. It took him 3 licks, and bit the damn sucker in half. Now, I'm not sure this is what the kid intended to find out, but he got his answer, which was 3.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, sit back and let me tell you a different story.

A story about a man who fell into a hole and wanted to know how long it would take him to get out of it.

A story about a man who couldn't see the light from the top of the hole anymore.

A story about a woman who wanted so desperately to escape the darkness of the hole.

A story about digging to china.

We all find ourselves in ruts, holes, and all sorts of impalpable places: they're wet, they're sticky, they're dark, they're lonely, and, often times, they're scary. No matter who you are, where you're from, or other life circumstances, there are times when you find yourself in these places.

No matter what.

We can climb to the top. Climb towards the light of day that we fell from.

We can sit in the darkness. Staying put in the pit of despair that we found our self in

OR

We can dig to China.

Why return to the place what shoved you into the darkness?

Why wallow in the darkness when it's dark and scary?

It doesn't make sense to perpetuate the suffering.

It doesn't make sense to give your old life more chances to shit on your head.

It doesn't make sense… Digging to china.

When you are down in the dumps; at the bottom of a pit… start digging. Push yourself to dive deeper into the darkness; pry yourself further into the floor your cage; break through to the other side.

Everybody says that you have to pull yourself out of a funk. That you have to pull yourself up. That you need to lift yourself, dust yourself, and keep walking. But they don't know.

If you fall and pick yourself up in the exact same spot, then you're asking to get knocked back down. You'll trip, you'll stumble, you'll fall back into the pit that you so desperately tried to escape from, but what if you dig?

What happens if you dig so deep that you come out on top… on the other side of the world?

A fresh start.

A new world.

A new beginning.

If you work hard enough you can come out in china. You can elevate yourself to a new high, to a new place, to a new everything. You fought the darkness; you trampled the fear; you dug yourself to a new beginning.

You did it.

Now, if you fall right back in the hole you climbed out of… there is no darkness; there is no fear; there is no room for worry. You go from light to light; from life to life; from world to world.

No more darkness.

No more worry.

No more.

You overcame your fears, your hurts, and your ever present worry. You dug yourself to china, and there is no turning back now.

Don't climb—dig.

Dig to china… one line at a time!

Walking. Sitting. Meeting People. (August 11 [Aaron & Maggie])


Welcome to the Iowa State Fair.
Did you know that the first modern showers were built at the camp grounds in 1931?
Did you know that the world largest pig is far bigger than you could ever imagine?
Did you know that Iowa Wines are actually made from California Grapes? (It's okay because they ferment here!)
Did you know that you can get the same beer outside of the fair for $8 less, and then sneak it in?
Did you know that there are food vendors that sell the same exact foods right next to each other?
Did you know…?
Did you…?
Did…?
This is the allure of the state fair: the large animals, the camping, the information gathering, the artistic showcases, and the drinking. Not just in Iowa, I'm sure.
A day at the fair is like nothing else.
There are hundreds of people all funneling into the area where the games are, where the rides are, where the craft tables are, where the beer is, where the food is, where the face painting is, where the giant pig is, where the… you name it, and they're walking there. Then, they probably sit down for a little while once they get to their destination. Oops, the phone's ringing—your friend wants to meet up by the Ferris wheel, but you're by the pig barn. The walking continues.
Walk. Sit. Meet.
Walk. Sit. Meet.
It's a never ending cycle of walking, sitting, and meeting people.
You walk to a location. You sit at the location. You meet people at the location. Then repeat, just different locations, different people, different benches, and different beers. All of this for 11 days.
What's the point?
Can't you see it all in a single day?
What do you do all day?
That's the thing. When you are constantly walking, sitting and meeting people there is always something to be seen. Something to be done. Something to be said. Something new to be explored. It's like doing the same activity with 100 different people—you never know what might get brought up, or perspective will be approached, or what sort of mood you'll be in. It's kind of a magical social experiment that I won't get to carry out.
I did my day at the fair. It was enough for me. I saw the sites, I sat on the benches, and meet some people. That's enough for me.
Walk. Sit. Meet.
Done.

 

Cantaloupes. (August 10 [Pr. Cheri])


Some are juicy.
Some are plump.
Some are larger than life.
Some are smaller than one can imagine.
Some are best left alone.
Some are best brought home to mother.
Some are young.
Some are old.
Some are just beginning life.
Some are near the end of their days.
Some are cool to the touch.
Some are warm from the sun.
Some are… melons.
Some are… people.
Just like melons, these statements still apply. The innuendos fly; the maturity levels dip; but at the end of the day. People are like melons.
Like our friend the melon, we grow together in community.
Like our friend the melon, we have a tough exterior that protects our soft parts from the harshness that is the world.
Like our friend the melon, we are all different, and yet grow up in the same community.
Like our friend the melon, no two of us are exactly the same.
We may all come from the same vine, but we are all unique; we all bring different qualities to the world that are mutually beneficial to everybody we come across: flavor, pizazz, toughness, stability, sustenance, etc. Together we thrive, together we can change the world.
Melons.
People.
Together.
Forever.
One body, one spirit, one life, one love.

 

Who knew? (August 9 [Megan C.])


Did you know, at the ripe old age, of 7 what you really wanted to do? You probably said something like, "I want to be an astronaut," or "I want to be a doctor, firefighter and basketball player." This is all well and good, but you're only 7. There are still 11 years of programming to withstand before you are given an opportunity to undergo at least 4 more years of programming, at which point you are set free into the world to do as you have been programmed to do since before you were really a person.
As soon as our parents find out our sex, they assign us roles in life. They plan out the toys we are going to be allowed to play with, which colors our bedrooms can be, and even what jobs they want for their darling little girl/boy. It is all out of our hands until we are freed from the programming cycles of life and can figure things out for ourselves.
Who knew?
Who knew that growing up in America, as an American, was so stifled and unbecoming. This is supposed to be the land of opportunity; the home of the free and land of the brave; the place people come to grow; the country where we have all sorts of freedoms protected by law. However, what it says on paper and what gets lived out are two completely different things—in a social sense at least.
You come out of your mother's womb a boy: you're going to like blue, have short hair, play with G.I. Joes and Tonka trucks, and you're going to play sports.
You come out of your mother's womb a girl: you're going to like pink, have long hair, play with dolls and make-up, and you're going to dance and do other "girl sports."
Where is the freedom of religion, the freedom of speech, the right to bear arms? Bare arms? Whatever.
No, I am not saying that babies are able to comprehend religion, most can't talk, and guns are ridiculous no matter who has them—let alone a baby.
Who knew?
People fight so hard for the right to life. Pro-lifers would have us believe that life starts at conception, that there is a heartbeat at 19 days, fingernails at a month, hair at a certain time frame. All of which makes the developing fetus a human. However, I'm pretty sure I can find pictures of animal fetuses that have similar attributes: heart beats, claws, fur, but we would not consider a wolf fetus who has the same characteristics as a human fetus, at approximately the same time, to be a person. So, where do they draw the line? However, better yet, where is their fight when the baby leaves the womb and can be—for sure—classified as a human, not an alien subspecies? Where is the fight for the people who are dying in the hospital? Where is the fight for the people who have been condemned to death, in prison? The fight starts and ends with the fetus? How can one consider themselves pro-life, when the life potential for any baby person is snuffed out as soon as the officially enter the world?
Once you cross the threshold into this world, your entire life is planned out for you: what you'll wear, what you'll do for work, who you will marry, etc. etc. etc. The list can go on forever if your parents want it to. And yet, this is
America… home of the free.

Who knew?
Now, there is still hope. You see, once the programming is complete, as far as social standards are concerned, we have the capability of taking a good hard look at what's really going on. We can change the system for the better. We can fight the machines that are brainwashing tomorrow's youth. We can make a difference.
Shake off the shackles that have been tying you to the ground since birth. Rise to your feet and take an honest look at your life. What do you want to see happen in this world before you time runs out? What do you want to do with your time? What is it that makes you sad? What is it that makes you happy? What do you want to be? Do it. You can make anything happen with your time left in this world, it's just a matter of doing it.
Putting one foot in front of the other—we take steps towards a better tomorrow, but we have to want it. We do a lot of talking about change: I'm going to do this, that and the next thing, but not right now. We fail to act with urgency. We stutter step our way towards tomorrow, and before we are aware moments have passed. The day passes and we are still trying to figure out what the next step is, instead of just seizing the moment—no creating moments of action. The world is against us, so we have to fight for ourselves to change the way the machine operates. We have to fight. We have to stand united against all the forces, trials, tribulations and principalities that would have us fall in line and follow the plan.
Who knew?
I didn't' know.
You didn't know.
Until now!
Now is the time for action. Now is the time to do something about it. Now is the time to stop talking about it and start being about it. I do not want my children (if I have any) to be programmed to hate people, to see people superficially, or to abuse the privileges that have been afforded to them because of their status in society. I want to leave this place a better place, than when I was brought into it. I don't remember much from the beginning of my life, but as I look back I wasn't allowed to know a lot of things. Now that I am 27 years old, been through the programming cycle, I stand before you and say, "We have to change this world."
Now you know.

The Great Weight. (August 8 [Ryen])


One of the most overused, least applicable verses from the bible comes from the book of Jeremiah. It says something to the effect, "Don't worry, I have a plan for your life. A plan that involves better things that what you are going through now. I know this because I'm God." This is a rough paraphrase, but the essentials are there. However, what isn't there is the fact that the people this passage was written for were being held captive in a foreign land, by the Babylonians or some other imperial force. They were captured, carted off, and held in exile for years, if not generations. This then, allowed them to start losing hope. I mean, who can blame them? They were God's chosen people, and yet here they are rotting in Babylon when they were supposed to be sipping Mai Thai's in the land of milk and honey. What does this have to do with our modern day struggle?
Honestly, I don't know. Especially when it comes to white Americans. We have it pretty easy, considering all of the privileges we are afforded merely for being white in this country. We have the power, and yet we like to hang on to passages from the bible that involve great strife and struggle. The passages that hint at their being hope for the hopeless seem to speak to my white soul the most because, who am I kidding, my life is a mess and according to the Bible, God has a plan for my life. I just need to have faith and it will work itself out.
This is harsh.
People do suffer, even if they are white Americans. (This was a point of contention at a bible discussion group once. Laramie knows what I'm talking about.)
God is a dick sometimes.
It takes time for miracles to get here from heaven.
That's the point.
Just like it takes approximately 8 minutes for the sun's light to reach our eyes here on earth (scientific truth bomb); miracles take a while to get here from Heaven. This can be minutes, hours, days, years, and even never.
The point isn't that miracles don't happen—I've never truly experienced a miracle, per say. Sure, I have wished, hoped and prayed for positive outcomes in situations and it has generally worked out. I have hoped, wished and sought wisdom and guidance, but hardly ever has it worked out. Just like everybody else, I want stuff, things and possessions to make me happy, but alas my bulldog collection is kind of skimpy and most of it is in Marshalltown. So, again, not so much luck in that department.
The point isn't that my lack of miraculous happening has dampened my faith, nor detracted from my belief that there are miracles happening around the world as I sit here and type this. People find food when there shouldn't be; People find shelter where there wasn't any yesterday; people help other people when they cared only for themselves 2 hours ago. Miracles happen, just not always in the way we expect them. They aren't always divine premonitions in the corn flakes; they aren't always sun beams shining over a particular building; they aren't always people recovering from stage 4 cancer. Sometimes, the miracle is letting go. Sometimes, the miracle is knowing when to quit. Sometimes, the miracle is that nothing happened at all. Sometimes…. That's the point.
Sometimes… is better than always.
Sometimes… is better than never.
Sometimes… is both real and imagined.
You can send your wishes into the universe and expect and immediate response. Sometimes you get one, sometimes you don't. It just a matter of perspective. Are you truly seeking guidance? Are you truly seeking wisdom? Do you really need a Porsche 911, or are you just dreaming? Are you wake or are you sleeping? Do you truly believe or are you pretending? Sometimes… sometimes we reach into the darkness and expected to find a helping hand, but sometimes we get slapped for being stupid.
I don't have the answers in terms of what constitutes receiving a miracle. Some people are just more worthy I guess. However, I do have an answer in terms of creating miracles. This is well without our reach, and it doesn't require sometimes. It can be always. It can be daily. It can be now.
Be patient.
See a need.
Fill a need.
Be patient.
Truly seek guidance and wisdom.
Truly believe that there is good to be done in this world.
Truly believe that you can be the miracle.
All it takes is a single flap of a butterfly's wing to create a tsunami on the other side of the world. Why can't you be the flap that feeds hungry people on the other side of the world? Why can't you be the flap that finds a cure to a disease in your hometown? Why can't you be the flap that puts a smile on somebody's face on your street? Why can't you be that flap? Why can't you create the miracle anywhere in the world?
You have the potential to create such great change.
You have the power to make things happen.
You have the ability to see things through.
We just have to patient and see the world for what it really is. We rush through the day as if we have somewhere to be. We rush through the day as if we have more important things to do than spare a few moments to chat with a stranger. We rush through the day as if time is going to run out.
There is time. There are days. There are people who need our help.
We run from task to task, but we never truly experience life anymore.
The people who were being held captive, outside of their home and promised lands. Do you know what they did? They took the message God had for them seriously. They understood that there was a plan for them, a plan to prosper and not harm. They were going to be okay in the end, they just needed to wait it out for a bit longer while the pieces were maneuvered into place. They then went about their life as if they were in their homes: they played music, they worshipped God, they helped each other, and kept on doing what they knew God was expecting of them.
Often times when we take this verse and apply it to our lives we want instant gratification. We take these lines as God has a plan for us right now, and it is going to manifest itself before me as I read these holy words. Wrong. God doesn't do instant messenger. It takes time for the word to arrive; it takes time for the positions and players and life scenarios to be just right for business to be taken care of.

You're moving too fast. You've missed it. That was your chance to seize the moment and cash in on one of those miracles you've been hoping for. Now what?
You were running for the bus, and instead of stopping to put some change in that man's bucket… you got to work on time because you caught the bus seconds before it was going to take off. Was it worth it?
Instead of saying hello the woman and child walking in the opposite direction, you texted your best friend in the whole world about the crappy food you just ate for lunch. Was it worth it?
Instead of doing anything meaningful for somebody else, you focused on the fact that God told you, via the Bible, that he had a plan to prosper you and you're looking for the signs of prosperity. Did you find any?
The point is, prosperity comes in many different forms: soul, wealth, health, mind, body, and spirit.
Slow down. Take a look around you. Do some good!
You have miracles in you, now it's time to share them!
Be patient!
Seize every opportunity!
Be the miracle you wish to see in your life; manifest it in the life of somebody else. Then you will be truly blessed… or least make the world slightly better, for a seemingly insignificant amount of time, to a seemingly insignificant player in the cosmic game of life.
Who knows, they might turn out to be somebody you needed to activate the miracle in your life. You won't know until you slow down and look at the world. Truly look at the world and see what you can do to make it better—even if it's only for a moment. That moment may have taken eternity to get here, and you might have missed it had you not been looking!