On Learning how to Walk

Lately I've been feeling caught in amidst thralls of ideas beckoning me away from where I've recently been hiding.Throughout my blog I've often regarded my desire for self-improvement, and in my pursuits I've frequently held tight to the introspective mentality of a man clinging to a piece of the world unseen. But there is a strange desire calling from somewhere near to my heart. A desire to be less sarcastic and more compassionate. Less obtuse and more "grown up". Images of refined older men frequent my late-night contemplation with tantalizing promises of wisdom and sincerity. I do long to be viewed as a wise, sincere sort of person. And I realize that if I am ever to be seen in this way, I am required to step forward in the direction of wisdom and sincerity. How easy the tongue can wrap itself into these words, yet how difficult it is to make the feet follow...

Breaking years and years of bad habits is one of the most depressingly challenging tasks I've ever set upon myself. First we have eating habits, which I've already begun to change. I have, for the past few years, slowly watched my shell shape itself out of proportion. Though never equipped with a perfectly fit shape, I do long to be thinner and with a little more muscle tone (the "me" that I'd developed years ago). Slowly I've been removing things from my diet (soda, refined sugars, excessive meat/sauces etc.) in an effort to suggest to my body that I'm ready for serious change. Thankfully the body is now willing to listen to reason. If only I could convince it that exercise is fun, then we'd be on track to bigger and better things. But, when you first learn to walk you take small steps, fall, and try again. Until you get it right. And in my experience, I'm beginning to feel "right".

 

The most difficult thing that I'm trying to make adjustments to is embedded deep within the very core of my personality. Recently it has occurred to me that I'm viewed as extremely sarcastic, unfeeling, and defensive. This is pretty disappointing because the image I've always depicted, of myself, is one of a wise old man trapped in the body of a youngster... but I suppose there are strings of denial holding that view in front of my eyes. Strings that have grown weak with age, and have broken under the weight of untruth. The sarcasm and stoic behavior stems from my disdain for weakness. I really dislike being thought of as weak. Weak-minded, weak-willed, weak of spirit and any other kind of weakness there might be. Weakness has strong connections to failure, in my mind. And despite my currently lazy way of living, failure is totally unacceptable. I'm not exactly sure how to make monumental changes to my personality, but I'll be damned if I don't keep trying things until I figure it out. That being said, I have been making a conscious effort to be nicer to people around me. And I've discovered warmth, in a few people, that I'd never have expected before.There is hope for the future. Of course there is.

 

~Dan

Still Alive

It has been an eternity since I've last felt driven to dig my claws into this plastic, digital world. I suppose it's safe to say this year has been extraordinarily complex. I have slowly watched myself changing shape, physically and mentally, and am beginning to come to terms with the Truth of being nothing more than what I am. Lately I've been criticized for being unfeeling and logical. I suppose I do not wear my masks well... Even through an exterior of ridiculous behavior, I believe my scars are ever-evident proof that I am constantly struggling against myself. I struggle to prove, to myself, that I am strong enough. Strong enough for what... I'm not even remotely certain.

Strong enough to Live, I suppose... Strong enough to Live knowing full well that my nature is to push the world away. Everyone who's burned their finger on something hot knows full well that it is easier to simply keep from touching, than it is to medicate the burn...

Though I am growing to accept what I am, and the things I can and cannot do, I am still often in pain of what I see myself doing to the people around me. It is truly frustrating when you reflect on each day and struggle to understand why you cannot be a better friend. A better lover. Heck, a better person.

It Drives me crazy knowing full well that I claim to be a Taoist, and claim to have all of this knowledge/wisdom of the world when I am not fully in control of my thoughts, emotions, and actions, in a way that the claims are justified. Even more frustrating when I am called out on my faults... as though I am somehow blind and unable to see what I am doing... There is a big difference between not seeing and not being able to control one's self properly...

There are days when I feel as though I am so lost that I would rather waste hours and hours alone stuck in front of a video game than I would to even look at another person. I used to think I was brilliant and under appreciated and misunderstood, so I would justify myself and all of my actions as the result of some kind of glimmering genius blinking quietly in the infinite blackness of normality. But I realize this is far from the truth, and whatever I have recognized as brilliance is simply a child-like need to give purpose to my existence.

~Dan

Soul Binding

I write these words in a very peculiar state of mind. They say that shocking events leave one in a state of shock (!Shocking!) but I dunno... From one moment to the next I feel relatively similar. The Sunday passed was a mile-marker on the road of life. For no one's fault but my own I was in a fairly serious car accident, after which I felt worry for everyone and everything except myself. Perhaps this is normal, but I cannot be sure. Directly after the crash I raced across to the car I'd hit, to see if they were alright. My own health far from being a priority. Once realizing everyone was cognate and without wounds I directed my attention again away from myself toward the automotive damages. I suppose I am lucky that whatever pain I felt was only superficial and gone the next morning.

It's hard to describe my feelings of the incident. With the exception of exchanging information with the other driver (during which the adrenaline was still running strong) I was strangely monotone. I simply made the calls and did what needed to be done to resolve the situation. Part of me wishes I were more emotionally compacted with the whole ordeal... I'm still quite obsessed with thinking about the accident, but from a familiarly analytic perspective. Briefly I have thought irrelevancies such as the, "what if I'd done this instead." sort of thing, but those are fleeting and illogical. The actions happened in just the way they did and could not have happened in any other. I am not trying to convince myself that I was fated to crash, but rather trying to understand that it is a waste of energy to imagine any situation other than the one that transpired. In any case I have been analyzing the actions taken to avoid an even more serious accident. Such as over-turning one direction to avoid a head on collision, and intentionally aiming at a snowbank to get as much of my car off the road as possible. All in a matter of seconds... Adrenaline is a fascinating thing.

Adam seems to have taken the most physical damage. His bodily chassis is suffering potential damage to the wrist-quadrant. He's very lucky that he's not seriously hurt though. I dunno about Liz, but as far as I know she's fine. To this I'm glad, because I managed to take most of the damage on my side of the car. Hell, everyone is lucky to not be seriously hurt, or dead. I mean hell, we'd almost flown straight over that snow bank into the black abyss of oblivion. From which I don't think any of us would have survived. Funny how the first thing you think is, "Shit, now my friends are going to probably miss their party."

It's ironic that Adam and I had only just had a conversation about needing more trauma, only an hour before the accident. We'd been sitting in Shari's having some toast (though Adam refused to eat more than 1/2 a slice) when the topic came up about us both having trauma-induced gray hair growing in random places on our bodies. We came to agreement that we each needed more trauma to balance out the gray with all the rest of our hair (we ARE both Philosophic Taoists, after all). I must remember to choose my words carefully lest the fates be listening and decidedly grant wishes.

Often I joke about Death following shortly behind us all, but it's true. Though when he finally walks close enough by it is then that our character is truly defined. You can either let him catch you or push him away. Though it may be exceptionally egotistical to say such things, I like to think of myself as the kind of person to push him away and continue along my path. He is, after all, only Death. I'm beginning to ramble. The point is this: I do not fear Death, and situations like this prove to verify my claim. It should be noted that one does not have to possess a want for death, to accept it as inevitable. Likewise one does not have to simply succumb to dying when there are alternatives.

Out of all of this I am more in touch with my soul, I think. My desire to visit the ocean is immense. As though my soul is calling me from the waves. It is in these moments that I feel truly Human, and enjoy life. I mean, what kind of adventure would life be without extraordinary excursions into the wild and frantic realm of Doom? Perhaps I am secretly masochistic... I doubt it. Though I am sure I appear, to some, quite crazy. I am most certainly one who enjoys experiencing all that I can. I am sure I've said this before. The good and the bad make one more balanced.

I will leave you with this statement.

Life is a series of events encompassing the good, the bad, and everything in between. The trick, to living well, is to find a way to be happy/content no matter what happens. I'd rather be seen a fool smiling at my own funeral than one crying at the world.

(And yes, I do notice the irony of being towed by a company with my mother's maiden name)

~Dan

Warm Tea in the Fog

There's something magical about foggy days. Perhaps it is in never knowing what lies just out of view, or maybe it's something else... regardless, the feeling is a pleasant relief to this month's musings and drifted emotions.

The horizon is tugging hard at my hand compelling me to discover new and exciting worlds. Studying abroad is an appealing thought and I very well might pursue a semester or more overseas. After this year I will be decided as this may be nothing more than wanderlust set deep within my lonely soul. Being reclusive will do that to a guy insomuch as to push one to try new things both good and bad. I've experienced a lot in the last few months and am pretty happy with my decisions, but always there is a desire for something else. Something new, something Fresh.

My heart has been vaguely dreaming of feeling warm and whole, once again, but I am doing my best to control those feelings and accept that being alone is not necessarily a bad thing. So frequently have I failed to acknowledge this in the past that I am afraid of conceding to my whims, but I press on. As I am growing older I am seeing now that there is a big difference between wanting a warm body and needing a companion. As such I realize that I am perfectly content being by myself. Since I am so quickly recognized as one who is rarely in the company of other like-minded individuals I should accept that quickly bonding with a companion may very well be disastrous (as it has been in the past) and realize that should I find other people like me they are probably filled with just as many quirks as I (which would be quite a tax upon my patience, as I am quite a handful of bizarre qualities).

Accepting what one is can be difficult. Especially when visions of better men/women are constantly pressed upon oneself. The world is filled with billions of people. Not everyone can be great, else they would be only average, and if one strives for greatness one must accept that most of those who's paths are crossed are destined to be not great. But then if one strives for greatness... does one refuse to surround one's self with those who are not as great as he/she? Or does a great person try to be great regardless of who they're with...

I expect a great person to take the path for which most suffering is laid. Whatever that may mean.

~Dan

A December Introspective Piece

This month has been quite strange. Days have been riddled in moments of deep introspection, with the occasional want to leak past disappointment from my eyes. Constantly I wonder what facets of mine are so assuredly bizarre that they compel the winds to repeatedly extinguish my flames. At this I have, once or twice, designed to write poetic, moonlit laments only to disregard these thoughts as trite and infantile. Were I younger the ink of my pen would be long dry toward this end, and poems would lay about as some kind of forlorn bedspread awaiting the day it might impress upon the world its misfortunes. Now this my 25th year these thoughts are but wisps quietly floating through the air. I now, more or less, prefer the occasional journal entry, for which you are now reading (being not hindered by form and expectations).

More and more I desire adventure and exploration. To see the world as it is meant to be seen, not brilliantly displayed in 1080p high definition. In the back of my mind I see the shape of things to come, and stay hopeful.

What does it mean to "give yourself" to someone. It is my understanding that giving one's self allows for great disappointment should the recipient decidedly move on. What of the person who give's them-self, are they returned that which was given? If so, is that which was given returned in its initial state... I think not. I believe that when one gives one's self they cannot receive 100% of that which was given, for a certain percentage will remain where it is intended while also a small percentage of the recipient is returned in its place.
So, if one gives one's self to another, they will permanently affect the other in some way; likewise the other person will permanently affect the giver. After many transactions between many different people that which defined the original self may be so convoluted that there is nothing left but a jumbled mess of different lives eating away at the mind.

I hope that I have spread good pieces of myself, to others. For I am finding it harder and harder to find the good, in me.

~Dan

Windswept Lullaby

Lately I've been having a hard time putting my thoughts together in a way that makes sense. I've been hiding in distractions, from the world, with hope of finding peace.What I'm finding, however, is that my desire to hide is more my instinctual defense mechanism. I am exhausted from trying to smile and stay level-headed, and when I'm alone there's nothing better than just turning out the bedroom lights and sleeping for hours. There's comfort in sleep. Perhaps it's being somewhere else, without pressure or stress. Perhaps it's that, occasionally, the dreams are of past events played out in different ways...

Being alone has its advantages... and its drawbacks. Sometimes it's harder to stay centered than I'd like, but it is what it is. Sometimes I wonder if I should have fought harder to keep what once was, instead of simply to accept what was happening.

In any case, the air is cold and my mind is wandering through a thick forest. What has happened happened. It is what it is. Acceptance is what we do, as Taoists and as human beings...

~Dan
我愛你

Ghosts

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1F2zl4LqSlg

Peace is complex. Being peaceful is difficult. Being happy is akin to being at peace, and is thus difficult. Negativity, and downward thoughts spiral one's self into despair... where the mirror shows our unhappiness unabashedly... Despair hides the wonderful qualities found in imperfection...

Ghosts haunt the cold night air, and beautiful gray clouds become mundane and empty. A thousand hopes and dreams, shattered, come and go with the wind. The ghosts... a cold reminder of rusted gears pushing this aging machine. They who've lived with the machine-new; now dead-watching its form decay but refusing to die.

~Dan

Phantom Limbs

Patience and compassion. Peace through humility and selflessness.

Traits I strive toward, yet seem incapable of fully grasping. Meditation serves as a vessel for feeling centered, in peace, but the feeling rarely lasts longer than I'd hope. With so much going on, and so little time to keep my thoughts under control I see certain aspects of myself getting more attention than others. Imbalance is not my way.

I keep reminding myself.

Focus... Be balanced... be fair... be compassionate... be... be.. be...
The me that is Today is not the me I see Tomorrow. A better me? We'll see....

~Dan

Debris

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIn37vzO-6g

The gray skies make me nostalgic. Softly remembering the things that may have been, if things worked out differently. Memories float along the wind and saturate my existence; October has always had this effect. Two years in Eugene, it feels like a decade. Slowly the things/people from my past are becoming as the morning sky, gray and formless.

Thoughtful and warm, my first thoughts still linger on childish desires. Omnipresent debris from a past life.

~Dan

Resilience

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Slowly, we find our humanity.

~Dan