Monday, December 05, 2011

December 17, 2001

I'm sitting at NH well aware of ME.  Aware I'm sitting here ocassionally watching the game, catching a glimpse of a layup.  Heads up when the rim snaps.  Just aware.  So aware of all the sounds and noise.  Aware.  Yea, just aware.  That's what life must be.  Aware and that equals being mindful.  Today-that's what life has been.  Just completely mindful of everything.  From waking up to the quiet sun to doing my laundry to watching the movie.  Tomorrow, not too far away, will I remember it all?  A little, but why because it is yesterday and I'm only living todays now.  Smile.  Today, and what a day today has been.  It has been all me.  And so mindful.  The weather was just perfect.  Spending time with friends.  Just quality time-talking life but mindful of that life.  Just smiles of the day.

Friday, December 02, 2011

December 12, 2001

What is life? I need to know to live it, achieve it, be it.  Guess I'm living it and somehow achieving it.  Yea, I'm being it.  Weird how your mind questions such trivial things.  Life is breathing-waking up each morning, falling asleep each night, and going onto the next day-tomorrow. 

A great philosopher once told me to just keep waking up and everything works out eventually.  Funny how it worked.  Think I even argued his point.  But I did keep waking up even though quite difficult and one day everything hit, clicked.  I'm not saying life is 100% on the up and up, but it is going up.

Sometimes I feel like I got life all figured out.  And I'm living it right, properly.  I'm living today.  However I am dying as well.  Each morning I wake up, a piece of me was left with yesterday.  As I strive to live today, yesterday is just a diminishing memory.  For the memory might ride with me to my death, but that is all it is. 

Anyway, I realized waking up is a great thing even if quite difficult at times.  Waking up is a key ingredient in my purpose.  Kind of I guess.  Because if I did not wake up then I would have ultimately achieved my purpose.

Always hear "you learned something new everyday".  Yes, but don't you find the smallest things you learned, the most important?  Well may not the most important, but you always say "I've learned something new today".  And that might be something as simple as blocking your # on your cell phone.  However all through the day you were learning and gathering, calculating, remembering, and storing.  More or less, living and as more important information was stored, others were discarded to the grave-dead so to speak.  Life and living it is a marvelous entity.

Thursday, December 01, 2011

My Purpose

Between 2001-2002, my writings were off the wall.  I often consider self-publishing a book them.  They were some of my best I believe.  Of course that is my opinion and personally don't give a crap about your opinion.  But nonetheless, I throw them onto this site.

So why were they off the wall...many reasons I believe.  In 2000, I gave up a ton of stuff and lifted a nonexistent elephant off my chest.  I was exploring my spirituality, sexuality (click and read the ...has three stages), and life-ality.  Primarily I was exploring life.  During the next several posts, I am going to throw out those words I wrote.

December 3, 2001
I question what my purpose in life is.  And as I sit here at NH I come to think life doesn't really have a purpose.  Our, my purpose is to simple live and die.  And through those two stages, I must learn and experience all I can.  I must feel all I can-pain, sorrow, love, etc.  And of course learn from the feelings.  I will make mistakes and learn from it.  And when I die if there is an afterlife, I will have these to learn and experience more.  In yesterdays I was constantly searching for the purpose of my life.  Constantly wanting the answer, but sitting here tonight the answer just blew through my mind.  My purpose in life is to live.  And I realize this must be fully.  It must be lived to potential of tomorrow's lessons but living only in this exact time, this moment.  Not 5 seconds from now, right now.  I must get back to being mindful.  I'm sitting here writing, smiling.  I'm sitting here living my purpose.

The smile that was once shining so brightly and often and disappeared...its here tonight.  Why?  I think may be because I found my purpose but may be because life just seems right.  Calm, peaceful, and quiet even thought I live in the noise-filled busy city.  Just feels right! 

What is your purpose in life?

Thursday, March 03, 2011

I'm Searching....or may be wandering

The year was 2000 and a conversation with a friend about an old school chum made me give away or sell off most of my life for a simpler life.  And when I did so, I felt a huge weight lifted off my chest.  The funny thing is that my life at the time was great so it is interesting that the elephant was lifted.  I got rid of my cable, sold off over 500 cds, quit wearing a watch, and some how enjoyed life so much more. I got a tattoo of a symbol that stood for Simplicity.   I started listening to Christian music which is very surprising because I am not religious at all.

About this time I started exploring different churches.  I was born into a Catholic family and had actually started going to the exercise session every Sunday.  Then I decided I would try some other churches.  I cruised over to the Black Baptist with my friend.  I was not the only white person there, but I did crack a joke and asked if the white people did sit up in the balcony.  I attempted to go to the Church of Scientology, but they were never open.  I also dropped in at a Mormon church while working in Utah.  That was interesting.  I  However what I found in all the visits was that they were primarily the same.

But then the same person who I had a conversation about the school chum turned me onto Buddhism and the likes.  And I started reading The Miracle of Mindfulness, books on Tao, and the Buddhist bible.  That is when my spirit started to really soar.  I even went out to a temple in Arizona, but I couldn't get myself into the lotus position.  Shortly afterward I moved to Utah.


And then I started hiking to some amazing places and walking with the spirits of the ancients ones.  And my spirit soared even more and I felt I was one with myself.  And for me it was truly a religious experience.

And then somehow I backed away from it all.  Not that my life spiraled downward or anything like that, but I guess my spiritualness was lost.  Left hanging out in the wings for me to find it.  And so I'm starting to search for it.  One of the reasons I am starting to delve into the religious realm again is because in the last several months I have listened to some people talk about theirs lives.  Two of those people were officers that were shot during stops and in both incidents they credited their belief in their faith for getting them through it all.

So in the last couple of months, I've been talking to my guru about it all.  He is a wonderful friend who is religious in all senses, but can also hold a conversation without the mention of God once.  Obviously, in our discussions lately we've been discussing what people call God and faith.  Not once has he ever slammed his religious beliefs down my throat, but he questions, challenges, and throws out some ideas that make me think um, well, may be, or definitely not.  So thanks Pastor or Reverend.

Today on the all famous FB, I posted the question to friends about God.  Of the 16 comments so far, 12 of you went with God or some form of it.  To me, it was the seat belt, but thanks for your honesty.  What I am curious about is why you believe so highly in God or a higher being?  Comment on here or drop me a note either at FB or if you have my email.

On with my search.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

29 Days In

My cellphone rang exactly at 8pm yesterday.   I looked at the caller ID and wondered why she would be calling at this time of night.   I answered with hello.  I could tell she was hesitant.  Her first words were "are you at home".  My answer was yes.  Her second statement was "are you alone".  I answered with no.  She asked "the dog".  I said no Murray.  She said "ok, I'll just come out an say it.  Chris N passed away today.  I said FUCK in my mind and then asked how.  She went on to say he was hiking at his park and some visitors found him.  In one sense you think, well at least he was out there doing what he loved.  In the other sense, you just ask WHY.  And unfortunately the WHY can never really be answered.  I mean I suppose an autopsy will tell us something, but to me it still does not answer the question WHY.

He was a great guy.  He was a young guy.  He was a great park ranger.  He loved to golf, but I am not sure he was great.  HAHA.  He loved his wife, family, and friends.  He loved fine dining and a great bottle of wine.  But I am pretty sure he could rough it on the range as well.

And in a blink of an eye he is gone from our lives forever.  Yes, his memory will forever be with us, but his physical presence is gone.

I made it through the entire phone call strong until the very end when I let the tears fall.  I handed the phone to Murray, told him Chris had died, and walked away.  And then I started my phone calls.  The park service is very small and if you know someone, they probably know someone.  When I talked to Mel, she well I'm going over my list of people I need to call.

The worst call I made last night was to Pheebs.  About a month ago, Pheebs lost some friends to murder.  And I felt that she needed to hear this tragic news from a person and not facebook.  Luckily the call went better than I expected.  But nonetheless, making those calls are terrible.

The park service has had a terrible last couple of months if not last terrible 12 months.  Park rangers throughout the nation have taken their last heartbeat.  And the crazy thing is that most of them are dying from normal day occurrences, heart attacks, diseases, and in the case Chris the unknown.

Rest in peace Chris, give Gar-bear a huge hug for me, and enjoy the afterlife with him.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

What We Remember

I find that it is amazing what we remember as we grow older.  What is the earliest memory you have? What age? If you read this blog, you have to comment.  You should be able to do it anonymously.  

Anyway, my earliest memory was when I was three years old.  This is what I remember...I went in to show my mom something I drew or colored or something and she was crying.  Then I remember my brother Mike and sister Lisa taking her outside to a car.  And then I remember my dad, who was wearing blue tennis shorts and a tennis shirt, telling me on the golf course by the oleanders that god had taken my mom and she wasn't coming back.  The one thing that I don't remember was that in between the hospital and death, my mom came home.  

Ok, that isn't a great memory, but I have a lot more random memories that I wonder why I remember them...I guess in some ways some made a mark on me, but others I find that were just odd to remember.  Why do we remember so much information that isn't at all important to our lives...

I remember in first grade Michael giving me a thumb monster.  I remember exactly what it looked like.  In third grade I remember finding the missing snail under the table lip only because I grabbed it in the hopes that I wouldn't fall as I was tipping in my chair.  I remember, gagging, Mrs. Crews sneezing into her hand and then sucking it back into her mouth.  I happened to be sitting in the first row for that one.  In junior high, I remember Mrs. McCormick and Mrs. Monteen calling me into the library in the hopes of straightening me up.  I think the next week Mr. Olmstead called me into his office and called us Motley Crue.  I remember Mrs. Ball actually calling us that when they called him in the teacher's lounge.  I remember when Jill was being pushed in the wheelchair a little too fast and ate shit.  I remember Mr. Wilson talking about his father for some reason and crying during class.  I also remember him throwing an eraser at the kid behind me, but hitting my desk instead.  I remember people hiring a belly dancer for Mr. Mullaly's summer school class.  And there are many other random school memories.  But for the life of me I can't remember that kid in my home-ec class that should crack an egg with one hand.  I can see his face, but can't remember his name---anyone?  But why.  I mean some are life changing, but no offense Jill--why the hell do I remember when you ate it in the wheelchair?

And the reason I am writing this post is because when I was young, my sister Amy and I traveled back to Iowa.  That is where we were born and we still relatives back there.  Since Amy lived until her teenage years there, she also kept in touch with  friends who still lived there.  We went and stayed or at least visited her friend Liz.   It was summer time and Liz was living in this dorm at the University of Iowa.  My sister Amy said that it was possibly a fraternity.  But I remember the place so perfectly.  I mean I can see how the first floor was.  But what I remember most is the coke machine.  May be this is where my addiction to coke cola came from.  The machine dispensed bottles.  As Amy and Liz went out that night I think I might have conned whoever they left me with into purchasing me one after another.  I thought they were so cool.  But I remember it so perfectly like it was yesterday. this is liz:

I remember weird things that should have no bearing on me living my life to any extent.  For instance, why is it that I remember the time Amy's friend Wayne babysat me.  Is it because I remember that his dog had puppies.  Did one bite me?  I just don't know why that one memory would stick in my mind so perfectly.  I remember the time that Michelle and I were having a rock fight with the neighbors and they hit her in the head.  They thought we had poured ketchup on her head.  I remember the time that Michelle, Joe, and I destroyed the fort at Rocky Ridge in Tahoe.  Some of the growing up things especially with the Stamm family will always stick with me since I've known them since I was three.  

I understand why some memories are there---the moments I remember about teachers make perfect sense to me.  Because they were some how shaping my life.  And surprisingly somehow for the better I think.  But sometimes when I remember a random memory, I think why in the heck do I remember that moment in my life so damn well.  Why do I remember that dorm in Iowa like it was just last summer?