My World is Big

Fortune.

No, I didn’t win an obscenely large lottery jackpot (although if you did and are in need a biographer, I do good work) but I’m talking about being really fortunate in your life. Everyone catches a break here and there. You avoid traffic, get dealt pocket aces, your exceptionally smooth and charming while flirting without realizing it. If by nothing than sheer odds, you get things your way some of the time.

Now when you talk about being really fortunate: constantly being surrounded by people who care, people who go out of their way to help, to teach, to support and, most importantly, to love… that’s a true jackpot.

Freewill is the double-edged sword of being a living breathing human. You get to choose whatever you want to do as long as you’re willing to accept (or be oblivious to) the consequences. And there’s nothing like it.

Trouble is, as great as it is when it comes to your decisions, it is really troublesome when it comes to other people. They have this pesky habit of not always doing what you want them to do. Now your intentions, be they noble or selfish, and whatever influence you hold in the situation can sway the outcome to great and lesser degrees, but you can’t make anyone do or feel anything. That’s not to say you can’t impact or influence someone’s life – part of them has to be ready for it. Beyond blunt force means of violence, money and deception, for someone to be moved by you part of them has to be open to the idea and risk that it presents and the change that it offers.

Face it, caring about someone is risk. Family, friend or self. Putting your love, trust and faith into someone is doing so in the face of the fact that through error, action or inaction, you can be hurt.

So why keep trying? Because the rewards are fantastic. Even if they aren’t forever, they make the pain and the fear seem distant.

My world keeps growing and my understanding of it and it’s people’s struggle to keep up.

Time to chase some risks.

Start By Writing One True Thing Every Day

I happily steal the title from something Hemingway said.

Now, actually doing it is the bitch.

Something true: I get in my own way a lot. Usually when I’m trying to be a good man instead of just being a man.

And I’m pretty sure the last, best example of that is when The Amazon came to visit and I let myself overthink everything. Which could be a very good reason as to why I haven’t heard from her (directly) since she left.

*WARNING: EGO DEFLATION APPROACHING* Speaking over thinking things, this could have absolutely NOTHING to do what me and could simply be about the facts that she a) needs to work at finding side work until she figures out if she’s going to take another job or start her own business and b) the fact that she’s got 3rd degree burns on her hand thanks to a kitchen mishap.

So I’m either a self centered ass who needs to get over himself or I’m a fool who just alienated someone who he was getting very close with in recent weeks.

Guess which one I’m pulling for at the moment?

And you know what? It’s not the most fucked up thing I’ve done in the last two months.

More true things (and some geekery to keep things interesting) tomorrow.

A Decent Friday, a Rocking Saturday, a Sleepy Sunday and Finding Faith

Forgive the title and its mild shot at my Catholic upbringing. I’ve been a bad Catholic for years now. I used to just say lapse Catholic until I met the Saint Bitch and we got into this whole discussion about that. I admire SB for her intense faith in the church, it just isn’t for me. Man is just too prone to mistakes and shading what he knows to be try to sooth his own ego, serve his own ends or just because its easier to gloss over the tough questions about our faith.

So I just stick to be a heathen who wishes he could find some divine inspiration in something beyond his writing.

With the rest of the world, or at least a good chunk of people in the area focused on the religious holidays, spring break or March Madness (Duke sucks…), Friday and Saturday were chill. BBQ-ing and hanging out with the usual suspects. But it seems I over did it and my body demanded rest, so I’ve been unconscious for more of today than I’ve been awake. My dreams have been odd, although not surprising given the last few weeks. Oh, and all those “More on that later comments” I’ve been dropping, I’m getting to those. Having an audience here and using this blog as a forum for (usually) the beginning or the end of a train of thought can often leave people wondering. So I’ll do my best to complete my own thoughts soon.

Of all the things on my mind, I find myself comforted by my recently found Faith.

Not in a higher power, or in love, the belief that we’re actually going to elect the right person to be president this time or my ability it seems to not be confused or perplexed by the female gender. Getting all that resolved will take more than a weekend. Actually having a direct conversation with the three people confusing me the most right now would help, but they don’t seem eager, willing or capable of returning a message. Silly me, I thought people actually appreciated those who tried to confront things head on and make them better? Or is that just another romantic notion I’m holding on to?

But as I said, Faith has made things easier. Faith being my new car.

Now, I’m not a stuff guy. I like have cool toys sometimes, but while I may drool over things, I rarely find myself justifying buying something for myself. Especially when it comes to cars. Excluding a Mustang, I look at cars as tools and a necessity. A necessity that I want to be sure is going to be dependable. My old car, Elpis (it means Hope), was at the point where keeping her running was going to cost far more than I would get in trade for her now, much less in six months. Add to that all the shaking, rattling and rolling and, it was time to pass her on to someone else. Given some TLC, she’ll make a great first car for a teenager.

So I did my homework, got financing ahead of time, had some help distracting the sales guy (you know who you are) and found my new ride.

Now, as utilitarian as I try to be about cars, it is tough not to assign it a personality. I got that from my Dad. As someone who used to rebuild and repair train engines, Dad loved working on cars. Just so long as they were made before 1980. Anything with computerized parts and he was lost. And as much as he knew about cars, he told me that you always had to find out the name of the car. By how it drives, how it responds to you, how you feel when you drive it and even just look at it.

And it has to be a woman’s name, he said. Why, I asked.

‘Because cars, musical instruments and ships are like women. You need them, you want them, you do all that you can to understand them. But even then, they’ll do things or make you feel things that you can’t understand. Some good, some bad. and like a woman, not matter how long you live, they will always surprise you.’

Being just like any other teenagers, at the time, I dismissed my father’s words, yet I’m grateful to remember them so vividly. Every cars I’ve ever owned, and the one trumpet of mine, has carried a woman’s name. Anna, for the song the reminded me of the woman I loved then. Cassiopeia, or Cassie when I pleaded with her to work, named after the starry night when I learned to drive stick and joked about needing a whole constellation of stars to guide my way. Desdemona, Mona being the obvious nickname, who was often made noises like she would betray me at any moment by breaking down, but never did.

Elpis, who I purchased when I was in desperate need of a change and chance, who I was able to get thanks to uncommon kindness and support. Hope she offered, so Hope she was named.

And now Faith. She’s strong, handsome and powerful. Driving her I feel the confidence that I’ve reclaimed in the last months. Not because of the money I’m putting into destroying debt, or that allows me to have the newest car I’ve ever owned. But the work, the passion and the focus that has let me do these things. The confidence in myself, in my friends and in my loved ones. The Faith, proven and unproven, that I’m making the right choices. Or if I’m not, I’ll still move on.