Being Grateful in Dark Times: An Ode to the Morning

There is a lot to be said for all shit happening in the world today. There is a malaise of cynicism and hopelessness in the air of late. It would be there no matter what my personal experiences but....

It's now interfering with my job and how I do it. I am learning to navigate in choppy seas, learning how to ride the waves the best I can while retaining a sense of subversiveness and integrity.  K might lose her job because of politics, cruelty, greed, and ignorance. 

One of the things keeping me from being black-pilled is knowing that’s what “they” want me to feel like.

Here’s a small list of what I am grateful for off the top of my head: 

• Mornings that are a bit on the cool side
• Petting a cat in my lap or nearby
• A good cup of coffee
• Watching people from my office window
• Reading late at night (currently on the Libby app on dark mode)
• Bean and cheese tacos
• Cooking
• Dates with my wife
• Driving E to school in the mornings, we have our little routine
• Hoping for better times
• Planning for traveling (work or family) 
• Knowing my workplace is a bit like Cheers, I feel safe there
• Listening to an NBA podcast as I get ready in the morning or driving somewhere

I noticed how many of the items and things above are morning-centric. I don’t feel like a morning person, but I suppose I am in some ways. Heck, I even associate bean and cheese with the morning. 

In the morning, I feel hopeful, a bit in wonderment of what the day might bring. The world is fresh and full of possibility. While I get ready, there is a sense of purpose and action. 

As the afternoon wanes, I begin to realize time is running out, and I begin to see what won't be crossed off the to-do list (or sometimes what was even started). Plans are made to end the day at work, pick up or cook dinner and pick up the kids. 

By the time the evening comes, I've gotten comfy and maybe a bit tired, time is running out to get things done. 

In bed, I sometimes stare up at the dark ceiling and think about the mundane, the sublime, and everything in between. It is in this space I often remember, time is running out, even on my life. So I am grateful for the little things and the hope that the morning light brings. 

I am planning to blog a bit in May when I have more time (ha ha). I would like to do another “Confucius Didn’t Say That” blog post, finally finish a video game retrospective (80% already done), and there was ANOTHER found art object on campus the other day that I took a photo of. 

In the meantime, don’t lose hope and don’t forget to turn the lights out when you leave your home. 

The Bridge of 23 Years

One of my colleagues at work died last weekend. He worked in a different department and I didn't know him all that well. That said, we had worked at the same school for twenty years. We would always say hello and our conversations were always short but pleasant. It's cliché, but I never heard a bad word about him from students, faculty or staff. He seems like a genuinely good person. 

He was only 54 and likely died of an aneurysm. I am….(checks ID)…an unbelievable 47.  

So, I have been thinking about my own mortality even more than usual. It’s not an exaggeration to say the thought of death lingers in my head at least 2-5 times a day and this was before this past weekend. I am reminded of dying when I drive because I have been in a serious car accident and have had friends die in car wrecks. I am reminded of death when my mom gives me the rundown of the old, sick, and dying from her church. I am reminded of death when my wife tells me someone on her "friends list" husband died. I am reminded when my imagination believes the headache is probably a brain tumor or when my wife doesn't answer my text for two hours. Thoughts of death or dying are part of my routine. 

This is definitely a form of neurosis, but when I think of death, it’s usually matter-of-fact. These thoughts shape me in many positive ways. This is why I am motivated to plan a new summer program at work or what pushes me to send check-in texts with my kids when they are at school. I become thankful for my morning coffee or I stop to feel the cool breeze as I walk to the office.  I am grateful for this neurosis.  

Earlier this week was driving and thinking about how I want to get to at least get into my 70s before I die. That is only (double-checks the math)….an unbelievable 23 years away. I started thinking that twenty-three years doesn't sound like a lot of time. In an attempt to make myself better, I tried to remember where I was 23 years ago...

In December of 2001, I was finishing my third semester of grad school.  I earned my undergraduate degree in May of 2000 and decided to attend grad school back home to save money. I lived with my folks and got a job as a substitute teacher. I got another part-time job working for a company that provided VHS and DVDs to grocery stores for rentals. 

Yeah, 23 years ago WAS a long time ago.

In September of 2001, I had gotten into a serious car accident and the accident still lingered in my daily thoughts. I felt lucky to be alive.  

I also remember feeling uneasy with the idea that my adulthood was stretching out in front of me. I was already plotting my next move. I didn’t know what it would be, but I thought it should be dramatic. I was thinking of moving out of state on a lark and seeing where life would take me.

After my last class in the fall of 2001, I was talking with a woman from my class in the parking lot. I liked her okay, she was smart and cute so I asked if we could get coffee sometime and she said yes. I didn’t know how that would work out but I remember feeling, “Why not? She seems nice enough…” but I never called her and I'm not really sure why. 

A few days later my good friend K came into town from LSU on winter break and I started hanging out with her and then….everything in my life turned upside down.  That story is told in great detail here.

Twenty-three years bridging the start of my marriage, to this random point in time, to (hopefully) bridging twenty-three more years to the age of 70. 

Truly at a mid-life point.

I like to joke that after your late 30s, you don’t experience a mid-life crisis, it’s just one series of crises, one after another.

Something happened this fall that really shook my wife and me to our core (and it wasn’t death). It affected others and it was my fault. It was a Grade-A fuck up from yours truly. It also opened up a lot of discussion on some struggles that I haven’t told anyone about because I figured I was doing okay just repressing those problems. I could pretend it really wasn’t an issue at all because I was doing just enough to push it out of my mind.  An anonymous blog is not the place to get into such things but despite it all, my amazing wife has proven she’s my best friend and the best partner I could hope to have. I don’t deserve her.

I don’t know how many years I have left. I do know all of my memories, achievements, and adventures mean nothing compared to the love I have experienced. Love of others, love of life. Love is the meaning of my life. 

Where will I be in twenty-three years?

I don’t know, but I hope it continues to be a life of love and grace. 

The Return Home (a poem)

I got back from Northern (the North of) Ireland again a few weeks back. When you return home from a meaningful trip, there is always a hangover, a jetlag of the soul.  

Here's a poem I wrote about my trip. It is untitled.

What does it mean to be at Corrymeela?

To inhabit a world of possible hope.

I have learned a thousand ways of being, a thousand ways that share the same path.

I could be the Irish woman who knocked on everyone’s door, seeking peace. 

I could be the South African working with the poor, forgotten children in a township.

I could be the traveling American minister with more questions than answers.

I could be the Afghan who works in an Italian restaurant in Lithuania.

I could be the Kazak student full of certainty and the confidence of youth.

But I am not.

I am just me.

I go back home the way I came, a little different, much the same.

Reflective and confused, awake but bleary-eyed as ever.

I do what I do because it's the path in front of me.

There’s only one Corrymeela.

There’s only hope.

Poem Post: An old poem

Hey poem lovers!

I haven't posted an old poem here in a good long while. I was digging around in my old favorite poetry book and here's a poem I still quite like. I am pretty sure this was written late in college, trying to inspire myself to do something with my life. Because I can basically never stop (Excuse me, I suffer from GLS - George Lucas Syndrome)...I just added a few lines to make it "better".


and if they try to frighten me with tales of woe,
so be it I say,
for it is better to have lived
than to walk amongst the dead.
and if I fall and fail,
so be it I say,
for it is better to have fallen
than to be scared away.
and if they tell me I will learn to regret and only turn grey,
so be it I say,
for it is better to hope even if you've lost your way.


It's kinda got all my hallmarks...and honestly, there's still in my writing style today... it's a heart-on-my-sleeve, simple and, well, adolescent in outlook.

It just happens that way. I wish I could be deep, smart and moody (I'm just that way in real life).

Cheers to all of you in the nether-world of the internet, may this good will wishing find you well and may you day be easy and warm. 

Death, Birds, Hope

My grandmother has pancreatic cancer and so I've been thinking about death a lot more lately. Death and oddly enough, birds.  

My grandma is on hospice care at home and we went to visit her last Saturday. Sure, she has looked better before but she was still herself; except she stayed in bed. She couldn't host us as she typically would have. She couldn't serve me her watery ice tea (I could never tell her I didn't like her tea) or cook her famous pot roast but all in all, given the circumstances, it felt pretty normal. It was a nice visit. 

As she lives a little over an hour away, the soonest we could come back was the following Friday.  In six measly days, she had changed completely. 

I was taken aback when I first walked into her room.  She looked as though she had lost 15 pounds from her 108-pound frame. The weight loss affected her face and her eyes were sunken in. I hate to say it but she looked .... well, bird-like. It was like being around a different person. Even her demeanor was different; less interaction, more of a blank stare, and more...silence. She hasn't eaten much and having a conversation takes more energy than she has in her reserve tank.

I found myself watching the "Dr. Oz" show with my grandma in silence alone.  The whole thing was surreal. My grandma is dying and we're watching Dr. Oz with our remaining time together. The thought occurred that I should take advantage of my time with her and chat.  I prepped her with questions about her courtship with my grandfather (who passed seven years ago). She struggled a little bit and I didn't catch every word but it went on for a few minutes and then....she got sick.

I felt awful. I know intellectually that maybe it wasn't my fault that she became ill but I still blamed myself.

Waiting for someone to die is a strange thing. I know it's not a unique situation but it's still new to me.

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My grandmother's mother washed the dead in her small Texas town for wakes or funerals. Her mother would bring the body into the house and wash them on the table. Yes, she would wash bodies on their own kitchen table. When my grandma was five or six, her father died and his body was brought into the house to be prepared. She saw his body and hid in the back of the house for a long time.
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My mother is frustrated that my grandmother doesn't want to talk much about it.  "It" of course, means talking about dying.  My grandmother is from the "Greatest Generation" and traditionally they aren't as open as Baby Boomers. She's always been no-nonsense and dying from cancer has made her a bit "stoic" as my mom sees it. But is she afraid? She's been a faithful Christian her entire life but what does she think, what is she feeling? 

I told her how much I loved her cherry pies and this barely got a half-smile. I counted that as my victory for the day. 

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My parents have been taking care of my grandmother often, which means I have to take care of my parent's pets and house when they are gone.  Their house backs up to a large wooded area and they have taken in three cats from "the wild" as their own.  In two of the last three days, one of the cats has killed a bird on the back porch. Just gutted the whole thing out - there were even blood stains on the concrete.  This isn't surprising, as cats kill birds all the time, but it gets your attention. 

Death and birds.

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Last night, I woke up numerous times, and with each lapse of consciousness, I was haunted by the memory of my grandma. 

How different she looked, how powerless we are, the pain she is feeling, and the emotions she can't or won't express. I wondered about my own death and how similar or different it might be. Any time I think about death, I think about God. And when I think about God, late at night, I always doubt. I begin to doubt that God exists or if there is any purpose in life, I doubt my feelings and my own experiences. 

I feel existential dread as I recognize the slow and inexorable wheel of time as it moves relentlessly forward every day of my life. The world is defined by its commitment to change, entire species and epochs have come and gone....for what end? One day you and I will be gone. One day, it's more than likely humanity will become extinct too.   I know this isn't an uncommon thought or concern but I wonder what the point of existence is anyway?  The pain, the mystery, the suffering, the wondering...the plan?

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A few days ago my family and I went to one of our favorite pizza restaurants to eat out and on the way out, I noticed a small dead bird that had died from running into the window. This happens all the time, millions of birds die every year around the world due to flying into windows. Still, the human brain is wired to recognize patterns..... so, there it was again, death and birds. 

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A few weeks ago a wren made a huge nest on our front door. There are six eggs. We have watched them grow, day by day. 

It was a welcome bit of hope in a troubled time. 

How I Met Your Mother VI: The Leap (2001-2002)

Some people think their lives are governed by fate, God or (the most silly of them all), "the universe".  I expect most of us have found ourselves in a circumstance that seems almost magical.  We might imagine ourselves experiencing events that seem quite impossible to happen in a purely material universe. It's an appealing idea and it makes us feel like that there really is a master plan after all.

Note: If there is a master plan, I am assuming it can't be stolen by Time Bandits. But then again, the universe may turn out to be far more absurd than we realize. Seriously, go watch this film if you haven't already.

I believe in God but this doesn't mean that I think everything in life is predestined or ordained to happen.  No big surprises here but I don't have the answers to these timeless questions about destiny, fate or "God's plan". This much I can tell you: for most of my life my mother prayed for me to meet a woman like your mother. In 1994 that prayer came true. However, I hope that after reading this story it's clear that in life we always have choices. Everyday, we wake up and make choices on who we are going to be and how we are going to act. So it's true that I think God brought us together but we still had to take a leap of faith. Together.

By the fall of 2001, Kathryn had gone back to LSU and I was entering my second year of graduate school in San Antonio. We didn't have as much contact as you would think (you have to understand that neither of us owned our own cell phone and long-distance calls were still expensive). I do remember a few email and phone calls being exchanged between us.  In September, JJ and I were on our way to visit Eric in Abilene and I managed to almost kill us in a car accident when several deer ran in front of my pickup truck. I flipped the truck about six times but you already knew where my scar came from and that's a different story.

All my other friends had significant others so JJ and I were the only single guys left. We ended up hanging out at least once every two weeks. We would complain about Rick and Clinton and about how our two love interests couldn't see the truth (the truth: that obviously, we were infinitely more desirable then our counterparts, of course). I even shared a "concept album" mix CD I had made about the Marie Saga that I thought he might relate to.

Meanwhile in Baton Rouge, things went from bad to worse in Kathryn and Rick's relationship. Your mother had been plagued by doubt about the relationship while Rick was ready for a possible engagement. Sometime in October, after weeks of soul searching, Kathryn ended the relationship. There were other factors in their break up but the truth was Kathryn was ready to get back with JJ. When she called me with the news, I was giddy. Two of my best friends were going to be  together.

When Kathryn had told JJ that she was ready to get back together and renew their relationship - JJ said he was unsure about how he felt. The next day JJ and I met for lunch to talk about the big news. When he told me he was unsure about what do next, I was flabbergasted.

This was the guy who for months had said he would do anything to get Kathryn back and now....now he was telling me he had doubts?  I was downright angry once I got over my shock at what was happening. I had prayed to God for another chance with Marie  and he might be throwing his own chance away? This was the first time I doubted that JJ was the right man for your mother.

In the coming weeks, I was hearing from both Kathryn and JJ. For the first time I felt like my loyalties were being tested. Who exactly should I be loyal to? What did "loyal" even mean in this situation? I felt like the middle man and I didn't feel comfortable with this arrangement. I wanted them to work it out on their own. Once Kathryn got back in town, I planned on laying low and hopefully letting them spend a lot of time together to figure it all out.

The winter break arrived and JJ and Kathryn were "dating" but not seeing very much of each other. JJ even mentioned to me his interest in another woman, as if he was completely single.  I didn't even know how to respond to him. They were definitely not back together, only taking things slow by "dating". On the flip side, Kathryn and I were talking everyday, not only about JJ but just having a good time. One afternoon, I went over to her house and we watched a movie and I had a paraffin wax treatment on my fingernails. We had a blast hanging out. After a week of seemingly constant contact, we were becoming best friends. I remember my feelings bubbling up, but I did my darnest to suppress them.

At some point, plans were drawn up to go to Midnight Rodeo - Danny, Jenny, JJ, Kathryn and myself all rode together in the same car. Kathryn and I had been "dance partners" for the last two summers but this night I was going to have to defer to JJ (even if he wasn't much of a dancer). JJ and Kathryn didn't dance to the first few songs so the three of us just hung out as Danny and Jenny danced. I don't remember how it all went down, but eventually Kathryn and I danced. I know JJ and Kathryn danced that night but it wasn't as much as we had. On the long drive home, Kathryn and I were in the backseat with Jenny and JJ was up front with Danny. I remember laughing a lot about something silly. JJ was oddly quiet. The next day Kathryn told me JJ had been jealous that we had been getting along so well that night.

A few days later, I was driving to pick up a quick bite to eat and I saw Marie jogging in the neighborhood. An hour later we were still talking in my pickup truck. We hadn't had much contact since the spring but after this conversation I felt like we hadn't missed a beat. The Christmas party was in a few days and I found myself asking myself (almost unbelievably) were we really doing this again? Was I going to risk heartbreak by letting hope into my heart?

Although we couldn't have known it, in reality the Christmas party really was Marie and JJ's last chance with either one of us.  For most of the night, your mother and I stayed apart and floated around our respective love interests. I even remember leaving the party and seeing Kathryn and JJ together. I remember thinking they didn't seem to be having a good time together - they seemed so serious. This was only an impression I had, I have no idea what was going on in their heads. I had a great time with Marie that night and after the party we even grabbed some late night tacos together. This time I was at peace with the situation; I still liked Marie but I was determined to not make the same mistake twice. At least for one more night, your mother and I were still blinded by our past and unable to see the opportunity right in front of us.

A few days later I was invited to Philip's family's annual Christmas Eve party. Philip always wanted me to ask Kathryn out - even when I wasn't on board. He would tell me that Rick and JJ were no good for her and that we should just "get it over with" and date. It all seemed so simple to him and I usually just dismissed him. I have to admit that his encouragement helped keep the idea alive. Philip knew I was having mixed feelings about Kathryn and he was eager just to push me even further in that direction. He told me to tell Kathryn that he had personally invited her to come and that he would even call her if I wanted him to. He told me it would feel casual as we all lived just a few streets from each other.

We did have a lot fun at the Christmas Eve party. Afterwards, I drove Kathryn home and we talked in the car for well over an hour about life, love, everything. As I drove home well after 2:00 AM, I thought how we were doing everything together like we were a couple. We continued seeing each other every other day and talking every single day. There are too many small stories to tell. For New Year's Eve JJ had asked Kathryn to go on a date so I was left to make plans on my own. It felt weird to be apart on a holiday.

At this point I had feelings for Kathryn but I felt guilty for doing so. I was trapped and I knew the only honorable thing to do was to remain her friend. It seemed it just wasn't meant to be, our timeing was off. Kathryn had just broken up with Rick, tried to get back to JJ, I needed to just be her friend.  . On January 2nd, Kathryn and I tried to organize a night out at Midnight Rodeo. It seemed like everyone was out of town or couldn't go - even JJ couldn't make it. So, it was just your mother and I, dancing again. We just seemed to fit together well. This was the night I officially and undeniably fell for your mother. I wrote in my journal the following day,

"...she's my best friend and she's beautiful, what more can you need? But it's not the right time….I feel that this needs to work it self out, somehow. And I don’t want to play that part, that way..."

A few nights later, Philip's girlfriend Doris was having a birthday party at a club called Banana Joe's. Of course, Philip told me to invite Kathryn. This time Philip's positive vibes were paying off - I was ready to make a move. As we drove downtown to the club, it definitely felt different. If Midnight Rodeo was "safe dancing" between friends; Banana Joe's was more of the "club dancing" type of place. After a few minutes of hanging out and having a drink or two, we all went out on the dance floor. This time things the dancing was a littler more closer, a little more personal. Tonight was different.

At Banana Joe's the night everything changed.

We went for tacos after the club and I was ready to tell her I loved her right there at Chacho's but I hadn't mustered up the courage yet. It seemed like events were out of control and were moving at light speed. Something that had seemed unimaginable, radical, crazy just a few days ago now seemed natural, almost logical.

I went home on cloud nine but I was soon floating back to earth, surrounded by questions. Was I really going to risk losing two great friendships?

Timeout: I want to make this next part crystal clear. 

Yes,  I was feeling guilty about the whole thing. JJ and I were  friends after all.  However, Kathryn and JJ were not exclusively dating. I would not even consider acting this way had they been a "couple" even if they were an unhappy couple at that.  In my opinion at the time, he wasn't all that interested in dating her.  It's true because I had spent more time with her that winter break than he did. For whatever reason, he did not feel comfortable spending much time with Kathryn.  Furthermore, he had expressed doubts about their future to me personally sometime in November or December.  This was after weeks of me personally telling him to "not blow it" back in October and November--even before I had an inkling that this would happen.  

That next evening we made plans to hang out at Jim's together. I had decided that I was going to tell her about my feelings at Jim's. With just a few minutes before I left my house I started to get very nervous. The stakes were high. What if she wasn't ready to date anyone? What if Banana Joe's was just a mistake? Was I ready to leave Marie behind for good? If we dated and our experiment failed, my friendship with Kathryn and JJ would likely be over. I would lose two of my best friends.

I felt like I needed God to guide me. I got down on my knees and prayed. I prayed that if this wasn't to be, for God to stop it somehow. I prayed that I would have the right words to say. I think I even prayed that your mother felt the same way too. On the way to Jim's we cobbled together some small-talk -- we both knew we had to discuss something much more important that night. Over a vanilla milkshake and a hot chocolate, I confessed my feelings to your mother. It was in this moment where our lives changed forever.

I told your mother that even though I had tried not to, I had feelings for her and I thought we should try to date. I told her I wouldn't risk these relationships for just anyone, only for the chance of an extraordinary relationship. I told her I thought we could be something special. Before she said a word I was already comforted because she was smiling.

We talked for hours that night. About what Marie and JJ would think and about how crazy fast this was going but how organic it felt. We ended up watching a movie at my house mainly because we didn't know what else to do and because I think we didn't want our night to end so early. After the movie, your mother was walking out of my parent's kitchen. I met her as she was walking back towards the living room in front of the bookshelf that now resides in our living room.

I can't remember what we talked about but we were soon hugging. I looked into your mother's eyes and I knew it was time. Almost seven years after our first date, I finally kissed your mother for the first time. It was worth the wait. Through all the parties, funerals, long conversations, tears, laughs and the hours of dancing, we found ourselves together, at last, as best friends.

It was, of course, only the beginning.

Those first few days I was terrified JJ would want her back and she would go back with him. I was half-right. When Kathryn told JJ that we would start dating, his doubts about their relationship suddenly disappeared. He was ready to commit. When Kathryn told Marie, she was also upset (yes, she had a boyfriend, but she was definitely confused with her feelings at the time). We took a big leap that night at Jim's. We trusted God and trusted in ourselves that we felt this was the right. It paid off in full. We were in love; a scary, life-affirming love. The kind of love that makes you doubt it's even real, but it was and it still is real today. It is my most sincere hope that you will find this type of love in your life. There's no promise that you will but if you do find it and you're sure (and you are over the age of 21) then never let it go.

Life is short but "love is as strong as death". You see I can rest a little more easy tonight because I know this story can live a little longer after I am dead and gone. The future is uncertain but I hope whenever and where-ever you are reading this you have found something in this story to take with you. At the worst maybe you'll appreciate the very fragility of your existence. I love all of you so dearly and I will always be there for you if I am able. If I'm around right now, please give me a hug. Go ahead, I'll wait as you track me down in the other room. So it's time to close this long tale - for now you know the full story of how I met your mother.

Postscript (2018):  Well, you know how the story ended up but for those strangers out in internet-land I want to note that Marie was a bridesmaid at our wedding and after a few awkward years, we both rekindled our friendship with JJ.  Oh, and we're still having those annual Christmas parties, except this time there's a lot less drama and more kids running around.