reactionary.

i have had similar conversations lately–one with a friend yet to be married and one with a friend seasonally married. a conversation about re-acting to situations, rather than acting or responding.
both contexts: a situation involving a couple, the woman’s expectations (this is the only perspective which i heard), lack of complete and open communication, and the impending results when the situation failed to achieve the desired result.
instead, what occurred was a reactionary conversation, action, and behavior.
based on emotion.
based on previous circumstances.
based on unresolved issues.
based on striving to be quite the opposite of the end result…and fulfilling this role again.
…or at least some part based on the previous.

i found it easy to objectively point out what was going on as the stories unfolded…to diagnose the situation, to see how the situation so easily escalated.
so, why couldn’t i do the same just days later when i was in the situation, when i was overcome with emotion, when i focused on previous circumstances, when i couldn’t get over or past my unresolved issues, and i became that which i sought otherwise.
i reacted, i failed to act and i even failed to respond.

i want, like my friends mentioned earlier, to act otherwise than the role that seems to come so natural.
i want to break old patterns, old habits, forming new ones that are healthy for myself and others.
i want to respond as situations arise with emotional stability,
with new perspective–not based on previous circumstances,
not as a reactionary, but as one who acts.

something sticks.

i have been listening to the song beautiful disaster from jon mclaughlin recently.
it was an itunes free download some time last year from their “single of the week.” not sure why it has come into my playlist as of late, but it just seems to stick…
to stick in my mind,
to stick in my thoughts.

it makes me smile, it makes me cry,
i agree, i disagree…
somehow, it resonates.
maybe it resonates with you as well.

She loves her mama’s lemonade,
Hates the sound that goodbyes make.
She prays one day she’ll find someone to need her.
She swears that there’s no difference,
Between the lies and compliments.
It’s all the same if everybody leaves her.

And every magazine tells her she’s not good enough,
The pictures that she sees make her cry.

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in between, a beautiful disaster,
And she just needs someone to take her home.

She’s giving boys what they want, tries to act so nonchalant,
Afraid they’ll see that she’s lost her direction.
She never stays the same for long,
Assuming that she’ll get it wrong.
Perfect only in her imperfection.

She’s not a drama queen,
She doesn’t want to feel this way, only seventeen but tired

She would change everything for happy ever after.
Caught in the in between, a beautiful disaster,
But she just needs someone to take her home.

Cuz she’s just the way she is, but no one’s told her that’s ok.

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

And she would change everything for happy ever after.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

But she just needs someone to take her home
And she just needs someone to take her home.
~jon mclaughlin, beautiful disaster, 2007.

own up.

let me first say that i am not accusing roger clemens of anything because i don’t have firsthand information as to the validity of the claims made, but it seems…
it seems that when your wife used hgh, you might know it.
it seems that when your best friend and work-out partner used hgh, you might know it too.
it seems that when your trainer was pushing hgh to other athletes, he might offer it to you.
it seems that when you are around other professional athletes, you might at least have heard of hgh.
it seems that when you conceal the truth in one area of life, you might conceal the truth in another.
own up, roger…
whatever the story is.

the after.

i have been thinking about goals lately.
i guess it began last week when i got my review at work.
it seems like there, plans are being made for me…but what are my plans? what do i want? what are my goals?
it seems that my life choices are dictating my present state. are these choices ones i have made consciously–weighing the options, thinking about what is best–or are they based on feeling, convenience, or what sounds good at the time?

i should set some goals for my life…
for my future at work.
for my fitness and health.
for my relationships.
for my issues that remain unresolved.

and as i’ve been thinking about this for almost a week now, i see this ad–an ad that had been torn out of a magazine just lying on a table at work. i’m not sure who tore it out, but it looked like it was torn out and placed for me to see…seems like someone is at work here, seems like someone can read my mind.


although this ad highlights the before, i can’t help but see myself here in that before stage…contemplating my after.

celebrate…me?

so, i had a birthday last week.

another year older,
another year past,

another reason to give gifts,
another reason to receive gifts,

another cause for togetherness,

another time to feast on homemade goodness,

another opportunity to feast with friends,

numerous causes to celebrate.

answers.

last night’s dinner provided some much needed answers for me…both those voiced and those perceived. louis and jenny took josh, lydia, and i out for dinner as a thank you for our work done throughout the holidays, as well as a reward, if you will, for them making bonus during Q3. it is always fun to hang out while not in the work environment…more relaxing, more normal, more team-like. it, being lydia’s last week at the pasadena store, seemed like perfect timing–especially after 6 months of planning a time on which we could all agree.

in the past few weeks, both louis and molly (two of the ‘powers that be’) have told josh, lydia, and i we would be moving on soon…moving on to other store locations, moving on to assuming new roles within the company, moving on from the team from which we have led.

so lydia is the first to go…
the first to launch…
the first to step out of the nest.

more to come.

since i know there are to be changes to come–and the specifics are unknown to me–i, at least last week, had begun to take things into my own hands. i did some research on the options of which i knew–looking for housing near these particular locations, gathering information from friends who know of these areas, and putting feelers out at work. i guess you could say i was trying to control the uncontrollable…or the not yet.

so last night, louis said that the changes to come would come slow. nothing fast…nothing eminent. even though nothing specific was said, these were answers i needed to hear.

i am not going anywhere soon…at least not in the next few weeks so i can quit my scheming and planning.
i am not in control of this situation…i can do nothing to determine when or where a spot will open for me.
i am not to take charge of the situation…since i am not in control, i should continue to live my life without obsessing about answers for which i have none.

i am not to give up on the answer i desire…yet, at the same time, i am to remain open.
reminds me of other answers i have heard to my similar questions about the future, about the unknown in days past.

5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
6 in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
~proverbs 3.5-6

9 In their hearts human beings plan their course,
but the LORD establishes their steps.
~proverbs 16.9

our responsibility.

it is our responsibility to live respectfully…
to enjoy creation.

to invest in sustainable resources.

to use wisely what has been entrusted to me.

to plan for those who will come after me.

to clean up after myself with the least impact to the environment.

to live as if one life made a difference.

happy earth day.

where these feet have trod.

a little adventure for a sunday a.m.? jena was game.
we decided to take the metro down to olvera street, a latino community that gives off the impression that one just stepped south across the border…
food vendors lining the street.
horcheta available at every turn.
churros…need i say more?
vendors selling everything from nacho libre masks and capes to velvet paintings to your name in headlines to leather belts with your name branded above your rear.

this adventure was wrought with several firsts.
first ride on the metro.

first time in union station–the l.a. version.
we almost had another first where jena tried to take us on the amtrak instead of the metro on the return trip.

first visit to olvera street.

first street vendor eating.
and first mexican ‘restaurant’ without chips and salsa…to which the waiter kindly brought what he had (fried round corn tortilla that you had to break off for broken chips and spicy tomatillo salsa).

first churro.
for those of you unfamiliar with a churro, it is fried dough rolled in a cinnamon sugar mixture. we opted for ours plain but they come filled as well (with strawberry creme, vanilla, or caramel).

and our almost first ride aboard the amtrack.
jena tried to take it back, but we decided the metro might be a more direct route back to pasadena.

the sun, two runs, and some dylan.

friday, following my usual run around the rose bowl, i headed home to pack up my bag and head for the beach.
destination of choice for this adventure: manhattan beach.
i was on another mission, the beach–any beach–simply being the final destination. the store at manhattan beach was transferring a product to our store, someone simply had to be the courier. i volunteered. why not? i would be going to the beach anyway, i might as well choose manhattan beach. do you think i need an excuse to travel south?

i picked up the merchandise from the store. mission accomplished.
now, onto the real mission.

i drove through manhattan beach, scouting out the sand dunes for margit and i to walk on our next beach adventure. opted out on those–knew margit would be displeased if i left her out of that hill workout. instead, i drove on…ending up at hermosa beach. i decided a nice run parallel to the ocean would be nice. good choice. it was still a little too cool and windy to be sitting on the beach so i needed the increased heart rate and blood pressure to get me ready.
second mission accomplished.

i returned to my car, took off my gps and runner’s id, grabbed my beach bag and walked onto the sand. refreshment.
it felt like it had been some time since i had felt the sand slide through the creases in my toes. i found my destination and enjoyed a few hours.

looking at the sites.
reading a little dylan.
taking a brief nap.
just what i needed.
forgetting to apply the sunscreen…not so wise.
final mission accomplished.

we are one.

made of many pieces…we are one.
uncomfortably joined…we are one.
dangerously naked…we are one.
egos on the table…we are one.
a patchwork people…we are one.
chaos in community…we are one.
awkward yet aware of each other…we are one.
strengthened by our combination…we are one.
kneaded together in potential…we are one.
broken for love…we are one.
offering our lives…we are one.
giving to each other…we are one.

[break bread with each other]

learning to be the unloveable…we are one.
holding the tension…we are one.
discarding prejudices…we are one.
risking faith…we are one.
becoming powerless…we are one.
feeling the hurts…we are one.
breaking our hearts…we are one.
generous beyond beliefs…we are one.
freed from guilt…we are one.
poured out for love…we are one.

[share wine with each other]

this was a reading performed tonight at church.
an individual read the portions on the left while the others of us read the bold portion on the right. intermixed with the reading was communion–the sharing of the bread and the wine with those gathered around our table.

as i listened to the statements and agreed with those gathered around me, i sensed that we are, in fact, one.
we are one…myself and the blind gentleman sitting beside me.
we are one…myself, the blind gentleman, and his partner besides him.
we are one…myself and the homeless man who wreaks of days without a shower.
we are one…myself and the man who sits in the back eating, never uttering a word.
we are one…myself and my friends, with whom i came, scattered at tables across the room.
we are one…myself and kay, a fellow southerner.
we are one…myself and ruben, a mexican.
we are one…myself and craig, who speaks both french and german besides his native english.
we are one…myself and the rest of those gathered around tables, truly feeling this even though i have only been a part of this gathering, this meeting 4 times now.
we are one…no divisions, always open, never excluding.