this isn't about Lost, I swear... well maybe a little...

i bet if i started this blog admitting something about myself, then you'd feel more comfortable with me and want to hear what i have to say.

so here it is.

i am addicted to Lost.

this may not seem like much of an admission, but you may change your mind after reading this.
[see: tv shows that make you think about deep, real life stuff]

after a day of anxiety, and a night of emotional release via rock music, i sat at a table in Austin with two of my best friends sharing Sierra Nevada Pale Ale's discussing the latest episode of Lost. i'll spare you the nerdy details we talked about and skip right to the part that made my mindwheels start spinning: the series has seemed like it had a "good vs. evil" theme through out, but now it seems like it's more of a "faith vs. knowledge" theme.

this is a theme i think has existed in my life, and all around me for most of my life, but seemed to go under the radar. right and wrong, good and evil, these are what pinged on my screen most of my days. but growing up in the church, i have seen faith vs. knowledge quite a bit. it's a common thread in most of the stories in the Bible. its actually the first story in the bible: "don't eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge..." there wasn't a good tree and an evil tree in Eden.

all of this has sent my head into a tailspin. so i'll try and regain the controls here...

[3 hour intermission of thought]

even as i attempted to begin to sort my thoughts, i was drawn in so many directions. i couldn't make sense of it. so what do people in our generation when they want some enlightenment on a subject?

google it.

if you're as into philosophy and analytical thinking as i am, i think you'll enjoy this article on the relationship of faith and knowledge.

Faith and Knowledge

oh Lost, what you do to me...

consider this blog plagiarized and lazy.

[this from the writer]

why do we document things? writing, filming, recording. the first thought i had was that we don't want to lose our thoughts. we don't want to forget the moments in our lives that are repeatedly fleeting. but something seems wrong to me in that. maybe wrong is too harsh a word. more like, weak.

humor me...

on a day like today i was reminded of how complicated we make things by trying to make them simple. my car broke down and i didn't have enough money to take it to get fixed. so my only alternative was to buy the part and fix it myself. now, the options (had i the money) were pretty endless should i have not done it myself. mechanics are everywhere. and so are so many other things. we have phones that fit in our pocket that allow us endless connectivity and information. we have stores that always have what we need. there is a gas station on every corner. but in our search for making life simpler, we've cluttered it. and so in our cluttered mess we're constantly entertained and bombarded with something else to catch our attention. this gives way to forgetfulness. so what to do? document it. we can't sit long enough to enjoy what just happened because we're onto the next thing, but we still recognize the beauty of it, so we take a picture. the problem is, the picture is never as good as the moment. our facebook pages are full of notes and comments and pictures to remind us of how great our lives are; and thank God, because if they weren't, we surely would have forgotten about that sunset in North Carolina. or the wet sand drinking our feet in San Diego. and i'm not be facetious either. we honestly would forget those amazing moments in our lives.

how dare we.

i'm not proposing we stop documenting our lives. for God's sake, i'm writing a blog right now. i'm just proposing we slow down a little and actually take in whats going on around us. we don't need to fill our days with things and adventures until the seams burst. trust me, our children will have plenty to learn from if we don't. our grandparents didn't have facebook, or digital cameras. hearing a story from my grandpa is worth 100 times more than a digital photo album i can show my grandkids. his voice in the story telling, his eyes lighting up at certain points. these are what makes the story rich. and he only has the ability to tell the stories because he soaked himself in it when they happened. we're dipping our feet in the waters of our stories instead of jumping in.

keep writing about the funny looking lady ahead of you in line. keep photographing the picnic on Saturday. just don't be so distracted that your only memories of your life are on a 10MB flash drive. life is certainly fleeting, not to mention, each moment in them, but we don't have to accelerate the process. watch the clouds for an hour or two without worrying about picking up your dry cleaning. sit at the pub with your best friends for longer than an hour without planning the next move. just be.

just.

live.

stream of consciousness

[i closed my eyes and started typing every word i thought immediately. this is what happened.]



in a rush of blood there is seldom a way to carry on the wholeness of what is to be.
let it all slowly leak out the bottom and see where it lands.
can you ever hope to be something that you can't see?
how often do we tarry on with the waywardness of man's helplessness?
perhaps something can be found in this.
maybe somewhere in the confusion there is a glimmer of hope.
on a light post at the edge of the city i can see where the end is.
help me get there.

a short story on Beauty

beauty gone awry probably happens more than we realize, but no one seems to care.

let me go from the beginning...

a young boy, his curly blond locks bouncing as he ran, was chasing after what he could only see as "flying color". how amazing is that?! flying color! nothing in the world matters to him at this moment. he has never seen anything like it. he could imagine nothing but this jumpy, flappy thing that was eluding him. then the rock. his foot caught the edge of stone deeply embedded in the ground he wished he could leave to join the flying color, only to bring him closer to his nemesis. as his face hit, he quickly forgot all about the pixie he was chasing, only to be shocked with pain and fear.

fast forward to this boy in middle school. his heart is beating quickly as he walks away from his mother in the car. today is the first day of this new school. he just finished a great year as the big man on campus. the oldest class above all the younger, less awesome kids. but now, thrown into the sea full of older, wiser, cooler kids: a minnow among sharks. and then he sees her. her brown hair loosely hanging over her left eye, she flips it up with a graceful move of her head. only recently has the boy ever noticed the opposite sex in such a way. it confused him and made him feel warm all at the same time. this woman surely was an 8th grader. all of her slow motion movement screamed "mature" to the boy. as did a few other things. and as he made his way further from his mother and closer to the girl, he met his nemesis again. a rogue skate board found it's way under his right foot and took it to where his left foot should have been, spinning him and throwing him to the ground.

now imagine this boy is a man. nearly four decades along, his efforts to make a life for himself have often been thwarted. it took him nearly 6 years to finish his undergrad as his mother couldn't afford to put him through college. once he finally graduated, the economy had taken a huge turn for the worse. a job in his field was nearly non-existent. he took jobs here and there to make rent. occasionally he made a little extra and was able to enjoy the "finer" things of life: a meal out, a movie, matinee as it may have been. this man has so much to offer, and yet, he feels stuck. he does a pretty great job of keeping a positive attitude, but from time to time, as he makes his way home to his one bedroom apartment, alone, he can't help but feel the lump rising in his throat and tears peeking out from the corners of his eyes.

we were all that young boy. we were amazed at the beauty of a butterfly. yet still vulnerable to the obstacles of the world around us. we fell in love in adolescence, and were hurt all the same. we struggle every day with the capacity to forget all the beauty around us. we have beauty. we are beautiful. Life is beautiful. but we can't help but see it go awry and forget that it ever was in the first place.

so i suggest these:

look into a woman's eyes.
watch a sunset.
trace the clouds.
connect the stars.
hug your mother.
write a song.
read Keats' poems.
pray.

recognize the pain inherent in all these things, but don't see it as the victor. because it isn't and it won't be. let the Beauty that is around heal you and redeem everything, because it will.

because i need this

there are ways we can let ourselves become occupied. we work. we play music. we watch TV. we drink. we run. we do. but what is it to be occupied? and is it possible to be unoccupied?

i propose this: no.

and now a word from our sponsors...

welcome back. my thoughts don't let up. even in the moments i'm doing absolutely nothing, my mind is in a race with itself, and its constantly losing. if you can, imagine running down the road with a hoard of people who look just like you, but for some reason are much faster than you. also, they have quite a "snobbery" about them, jeering and laughing at your inability to keep up with they who look and seem like they are you. well, that's what it's like in my head at times: confusing and frustrating. so the idea of being unoccupied is a bit foreign to me.

this blog is brought to you by...

if you're just now joining us, we're discussing occupation of our minds. how many times do you refuse to listen to your own thoughts? it seems a little crazy, i know, but i think listening to yourself is healthy. but be certain, that just because you listen to yourself, you don't have to do what you say. my brain suggests things to me that are borderline insane. but sometimes, in the muck of my madness, there peeks through a shimmering creative thought. [enter: music/writing]

more after this...

i have a slew of journals that are full of scribbling, scratches and songs. i have lost a few journals over the course of my life due to theft or my absent mind, but the ones i still have tell quite the indeterminable story. but they still tell a story. and reading back on those journals has helped me to better understand the lawlessness of my mind. i listened, at times, to what i told myself, and i was burned. and still, other times i flourished. but its Life that is allowing me to ascertain a grip on what is truth. what is good. what is worthy. so i suggest that in the times you feel like you can't trust in what you say (which you likely can't) search for the glimmer of goodness. and hold onto it. water it and watch it grow.

back in 2 1/2 minutes...

if there is any evidence to my mind's in ability to keep up with itself, it's this post. i know it might not mean much to you, and is probably a bit too scattered to grasp any one theme, but i need this. i need to get it out. maybe you can see something in here that shines to you, and i hope that you do, but for now, i just needed to get these words out in hopes of clearing some space up here in my head.

thanks for joining us.

if Al Gore was president would he live in the Green House?

holy guacamole.



today i wore a green shirt. this sounds like it will be the most boring blog ever. just give it a minute. so i wore a green shirt. i haven't worn a green shirt in a long time. not for any other reason than, blue is just my go-to. so. i go to it. and not to green. anyway, it made me think about the color. these days green is positive. its representative of growth. of caring for our environment. a green light means go. forward motion. positive. but i often forget about its association with envy. or greed. which poses a pretty funny situation:

so in America, we are capitalists. this merely means we earn what we have. yes, gifts exist, but aren't the norm. in the act of earning something, a natural development is competition. [enter fallen man] when competing, we find ourselves, at times, relentlessly pursuing victory with no regard for who we are beating.

note: i'm not communist, just making a point.

so in competition there are losers. and we don't want to be a loser. so we do all we can to see that that won't happen. and a lot of us compromise our convictions. you see it happening in corporations and small organizations alike. one venue that is freshly showing signs of such compromise is the "green movement". while it is true that we should take care of the earth, and do all we can to treat her well, i don't think it should turn into what it seems to be [note: i haven't done all the research i probably could on this subject. this is just a view from the outside] turning into now: a competitive, money mongering enterprise.

so you see? its funny that the green movement is showing to be greener than we thought. take care of the earth. make more money. stand on the top of the green hill as king.

motion and pauses (reprise)

i am but flesh wrapped on bones
so grace escapes me on my path
i have fallen and i have run
and all the while, gone is your wrath

happy and sad live together tonight
you can't expect effect with no causes
with no idea of how i should be right
i'll thank you for all the motion and pauses

Banking 101

this is something i wondered on my drive home tonight:

what is it to invest in someone?

if you think about investing in anything, it seems implied that you are putting into this thing in hopes that it will return something to you, or produce something for you. you invest money in the stock market in hopes that it will be multiplied over a number of years and you will have a retirement fund. you invest in your home in hopes that by doing so, its value will be raised and you can either be worth more as the owner or possibly sell it for more money than you bought it. you invest in a garden in hopes that it will bear fruit and you can eat.

in all these examples of investment, there's a common thread: giving to get.

then why in the hell do we ever talk about investing in people? are we so self absorbed to believe that by our actions, another human can be swayed to begin producing what we want for ourselves? whether its affection to the investor, or a changed lifestyle on the investee that thus gives the investor grounds to gloat, it all adds up to the common thread.

as a natural born capitalist, i have a hard time disconnecting what i know to be fiscally wise from what i know to be spiritually wise. but hear me, i believe they SHOULD be disconnected. there is such a danger in equating what works for money and what works for our souls. "for the love of money is the root of all evil." pretty strong words for an extremely true statement. but strong for a reason. God knows us. He made us, so how could he not know us inside and out? he knows our draw to abundance. our longing for more, more, more.

but i digress.

my goal wasn't to talk about money. my goal was to talk about our relationships with each other. i have heard countless times people referring to how they act towards others as "investing in them." ok, you may be thinking, "i don't want anything for myself in my investment in [this person]." but it goes beyond that, i think. more than our selfish desires to be loved and respected, more than our wanton pursuit of abundance, i am concerned with our belief that we are to be a part of the changing of a person. and the concern lies within that last sentence. why are we trying to change someone? because we know what's best for them? because we can be the one who changes them? pretty arrogant statements.

now, i'm not saying to ignore everyone and just let everyone do whatever "they think is best" or "right". i'm just suggesting that we change our language from investment to something that is more true of what we're called to do: love.

why can't we just love someone with no expectations of them becoming what we want? with no expectations of them becoming who we think they're "supposed to be"?

just ask yourself this question: "if i did nothing but love every single person around me, and never saw any benefits, or results, but just the same life i always knew from before i loved them, would i still love them?"

most of us don't want to admit our answers. i don't.

i want to love someone who loves me.

i want to love someone and see them grow.

i want to love them and be blessed.

the funny thing is, if we all did it, this wouldn't be a problem. if there was a community of people who could literally love each other selflessly all the time, we would never have to worry about our own needs being met. because they already have been.

we are the church, and that should be our pursuit. not an investment, but a terrifying journey with each other.

שָׁלוֹם

THIS IS AN INVITATION

i've been known to display, with a certain amount of clarity, my emotions at all times. try as i may, nothing can keep my face from showing exactly what is in my mind or heart. they say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and whoever they are knew what they were talking about when it comes to me. and the windows are always open.

so let's switch scenes to the Sabbath. to today. today started with Steve peeking his head in through my car window to wake me up. "Everyone's up. Mostly. We're starting breakfast." in my sleepy stupor i stumbled out of the back of my car which had been temporarily transformed into a bed, and made my way down the hill, over the creek and up the hill to our campsite. all of us were extremely groggy and not speaking. and i for one, didn't feel i had much to say. all that i could think about were the dreams i had the previous night. i won't go into a lot of detail but one in particular really threw me. i was giving my brothers eulogy. i have no idea where that came from, but apparently my subconscious wanted my conscious self to experience immense sadness for a while. my sadness was easily disguised this morning by my sleep filled eyes, but as the day progressed i could feel the sadness peeking through. i went home and went right to bed hoping to redeem my previous sleep experience, but i don't remember what my nap dreams were. and i woke up still feeling like i actually gave my brothers eulogy.

enter mosaic.

i could have stayed asleep for at least 4 more hours this afternoon, but i got up to go play drums at my church mosaic. i play every week and its always a great source of encouragement and fulfillment, so i was willing to forgo the hopes of more sleep. and it was just that. on top of the dream's affect on me, i was allowing actual situations in my life to become reasons for why i felt like i did. this relationship, that decision, those thoughts... so many things that had nothing to do with what i was feeling.

but then the sermon.

Don, my amazing pastor and great friend, spoke on bringing Shalom to our city. he read from the easter story, when Jesus appeared in the upper room post resurrection to the disciples who basically had it on lock down for fear of the Judeans. they were afraid. and then Jesus appears and says "Peace be with you!" and said it again "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you." then breathed on them. so much was to be had from these simple words, but as i heard them tonight, i was reminded of what is important. suddenly all my self pitying and self involvement was easily shadowed by the truth that Jesus has breathed life onto me and given me peace. Shalom is a big word. its not so easily translated into english, but when Jesus said it to his disciples, and thus to me, it just made sense. if you can receive Shalom, you're further along than you think you are.

this is an invitation to myself: live the peace that has been given to you, so that you can then give it away. because God knows that whatever it is that's inside of you, is going to be evident on your face, like it or not. it might as well be Shalom.

South by Southwest means SXSW

how to start?

perhaps with a confession:

i am, on my own, completely unworthy

i am, on my own, severed from hope of life

i am, on my own, ridiculously repugnant

so let me not be alone, Lord

let me be with You

last week was the infamous SXSW festival in Austin. in years past i've immersed myself in the waters of new bands, new films, celebrities and "VIP" parties. this year i only dipped my feet in. i had a great time, mind you, but was also very glad to have scaled it down. i didn't take off work this year with half a mind to have a less intense experience of the fest. and it worked. but even in the SXSW Lite version, i found myself pushing harder than my body really wanted to go. nights that didn't end until their neighboring morning, miles of walking, denying myself water for no reason at all, etc... and in my push towards God-knows-what, i found myself reflecting a lot more than i have in years past. about celebrity. about the party life. about music. and without claiming any generalities as gospel, i'll tell you a few of my thoughts.

what about being on a "list" makes us feel so good? one of the best parts of SXSW is how free it is. monetarily. but in order to avoid spending money, you have to know where to look for the RSVP's. follow the right Twitter accounts. join the right Facebook group. know the right people. which used to feel like an adventure to me. i would get excited about being "in the know" and that somehow i was special enough to figure out how to get on "the list". this is a great marketing ploy, no doubt, and maybe i'm just getting old, but i'm kind of over it. it just seems very elitist. to align myself with any group that looks down on anyone else out of arrogance is sure to make my heart into a stone. that mindset is like a drug. when you feel that you have the upper hand on anyone else, most would dare not give it up easily. but rest easy, that pride will not hold anyone up. nor will it push them into places they would like to go. i'm convinced that pride is a barb in the hearts of men: quick to go in, but painful and damaging when removed. and it will be removed.

so i'll just try and avoid it.

[ok, now imagine i didn't just say any of that]

i had a conversation with a really nice guy at one such "VIP" party. he was in town promoting his new movie MacGruber. let me back track and say in full disclosure that the only way i got into this party was a slight of hand wristband pass from a friend already inside. i then broke the wristband, tied it on and went in the back door. so. i got in and saw my friend and joined his conversation with a stranger. turns out the stranger was a movie star/comedian/writer, who i recognized.

"hi, i'm james."

"hey i'm norma."

"NORMA?"

"NO, JORMA"

(the party was very loud)

while talking to him a number of people approached him telling him how much they loved the movie and how funny he was. i asked if he ever got tired of it. of strangers bugging him. he said "no way man. we're all the F-ing same. i just got a break." so in a relatively quiet celebrity town that was momentarily over run with celebrity, i got to hear a small voice of hope that not all of them are arrogant *fillintheblankexplative* which was very encouraging.

so now that i've name droped, claimed to hate being on the VIP side of life (which is so the new skinny jeans), and established myself as someone who "knows what they're talking about", i just would like to refer you back to my confession.

i am nothing without Him. i only hope that i can live and love like He did and does.