With all things in my life, they start with a story, a time, a place, and a situation. This story starts when I was younger.  Whenever I had gotten in trouble, which I found myself a lot, my father would always push me into giving him an answer as to why I had done something against what he said and at the time, like most children my answer was “I don’t know”.  This didn’t sit well with my father, he continued to prod me until I looked deep down within myself for the reason, never taking my excuses as an answer.  Trust me when I say that when you get into trouble a lot, and you have to go through this process a lot, you end up good at introspection. An unlikely side effect of trying to get me to listen to the rules. Needless to say, it’s played a large part in how I operate in my life, thinking over and over as to my motivations of things.

The story doesn’t stop there when I was leaving Glendale Community College I had one of my professors call me into his office. He told me that I had a lot of potential. Then the next thing he told me was that it wasn’t a compliment. He being a huge sports fan used Kobe Bryant as an example. He told me that no one talked about Kobe’s potential because he lives up to it, and he asked me if I wanted to grow up to be known as the guy who had a lot of potential or someone who lived up to it. Needless to say, I took that to heart.

Now the reason I rehash all these memories. I realized today that I am a descendant of weavers. Not one who weaves fabric but one who weaves stories.  I have been taught to weave stories through going to school, taught to create stories for myself and others.  Its easy to remember the ones I have weaved for others, be them true or false. What I have spent some time doing is finding the stories I have weaved for myself with the help of others. Stories about what I can and can’t do.  Stories about where I should be, and that it’s okay to only try a little. Stories about what I should accept for myself and others. Each story I have weaved has clouded my vision until all I can see is the world that I have stitched together.  With this warm world, I have created, I have lost the passion for the simple things in life, becoming bored and static in this beautiful ever-changing world. I ask myself why, why am I doing this and what can I do about it.

So I reject this answer for myself, I will not simply become complacent with the reality I have weaved.  I have become too comfortable with it, and part of improving is seeing the world with my own eyes instead of this quilted reality I am coated in.  Stories weaved can become a blanket to keep warm in this sometimes cold world, but by no means were they meant to hold me down. I want to break the strings that I have bound myself with. Tear down these stories I have weaved because even though they may keep me in a safe and comfortable place, they also keep me stagnant.  I want to learn to tilt, put my everything into what I do. I want to become the person who takes action, the seeker of answers and adventure, and someone who can live proudly for all that I do.

I know it will be hard and painful, and I will not always succeed but just like exercising I will have to go through more hardship and pain before I can improve. Blood, sweat, tears will be a plenty, but I will be able to look at myself in the mirror and say that I am living up to all I can do and weaving stories as memories instead of excuses.

I want to end with two of my favorite quotes that keep me going.

Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.

-Albert Einstein

You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

-Mahatma Gandhi

I found myself watching clouds today, seeing shapes and stories within its wisps. I know what a cloud is, but knowing that doesn’t give me half the story. What I want is the truth. A cold hard truth, unwavering. For me, it has a weight to it, a value that I very much enjoy. No confusion, no sway, and certainly no illusions. There has always been a comfort in it, especially when in my life the ground felt like sand beneath my feet, I could turn to these small truths and know at least these things are consistent.

It probably is what propels forward, finding out these truths. It’s ironic though that my passion extends to a science where 95% confidence is more than enough and the phrase “it depends” is a legitimate answer to a question.  People are at best, a hard thing to pin down.

I realized that my truths don’t extend that far, that they are a veil in which I decide to see the world. One with consistency and one with a particular perspective tied to it (though these facts do have substance in them, generations of people crafting and discovering the way the world works).  It gives weight to my perspective and allows me to sleep well at night.

The problem is that my truth is not the only truth out there. My way of seeing things is not the only way to view them.  How am I supposed to prepare myself for multiple right answers if all I have been taught from the start is to only choose one?   Over the course of the last couple weeks, I have had to come to face to face with an issue that I felt like I least understood a little. Picking up the pieces, the clues that were left behind only to find that I have a bigger mystery on my hands than I thought.

In life, I wish I had a non-invasive observer to play back the events in my life to tell me how really went down, not this one that was coded and colored in emotion. A simple way to read back the transcripts and let me know what happened, instead of having to search, and reach a closure on a precept that isn’t true, only to have to do it all again when I find out something new.

But it is like cloud watching at the end of the day, there is no right answer for life, just the most right I can try and be for me. I just have to be open to change, and do the best I can as truth be told clouds can cast a shadow on my day, or other be an endless playground for run and play. I just have to decide what they will be for me.

There are moments of my life that repeat over and over in my head, things I don’t necessarily understand the significance of them until later. Things I have had that inspired me, mistakes I’ve made, and conversations I have had with others.  One of these is a silly question I came across when I was shooting theoretical questions back and forth. The question had more of one of the feel of an online personally quiz then an introspective plot point in my life. The question from years ago was “If I were to embody an element in my life, which would it be?”. A simple question really in the grand scheme of things, but at the time I chose the wind, something that can flows through life touching everything but never being captured, something that bends and flows around problems but is a force that can erode great structures and even become the power behind a storm.  My friend had disagreed with me, never seeing me as the wind but instead light. I didn’t at the time understand the full extension of that statement. Light like wind, can’t be captured or contain, it illuminates and guides, creating a path, always the first thing that enters a room, allowing all those who follows to know the path they can follow and to demystify the world.  I had to wrap my head around it, I didn’t feel worth of such a designation. Light for me was just much to bright, how could I be light when I struggle and fall, when I crash and crawl, when a lot of the time I don’t know really what I am doing.  I have just been trying to live in the best way for me, how could I illuminate anyones path for anyone.

It is easy to look at the bright side of light(unintentional pun), but with everything comes pro’s and con’s. I became scared of being light, something when too focused on people or things begins to burn them, something the reveals the things in people that they don’t want to see (including things within myself), something that cast shadows and hurts to see directly. Now you already know that I have over thought this way too much. It’s a simple statement that I shouldn’t necessarily put all that much stock into. I never planned to put that much thought into it but it became this small and growing obsession over whether or not it was true, and  if should I try to live up to “light”.  It would mean to expose myself in light and come to terms with all that is to be me.

I got my answer though, and it’s through this last couple months.  From suffering from the darkness in my own life, revealing the faults and fractures from within myself that I came to a clarity of where I realized what I want to be. I realized by coming back home that the world has people are struggling just as much as I am, with people losing hope of a way out of the crushing defeat of the soul. When the day becomes long and we had to think about how hard it is sometimes to get out of bed and losing the reason to do so. Losing the color and vibrancy of the world around us, seeing everything in a smattering of grey, so much so that things we love simple become actions and fade into nothing. When dreams start to feel out of reach or simply not worth reaching for. Worst of all losing the smile that we all have deep down inside that itself is an illumination of the soul within. I know the horrors of this darkness, the well of emotion what we sit in unable to seemingly reach or climb our way out of, only destined to look up at the freedom we don’t have. What I want to be for others is the morning sun, the one that comes out after the darkness of night to warm all those who were stuck out in the cold. The warm light that touches the skin and brings reprieve knowing that the day will come. Inside of me, I feel that desire to spread that warm love and light I know and have found within myself to reignite the light in any of those trapped in that darkness, show us the way home after a long night of wandering. To reignite the sparkle in our eyes, and the love in our hearts. To show the everyone, how beautiful the world can be and that there is hope and happiness out there for us all.

Lastly just wanted to say that there is a path out there, people who care, and light at the end of the tunnel.  If anyone wants to talk, I will listen, no judgement.

Today I wanted to start with one of my favorite quotes by Mark Twain:

“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”

It brings me back to thinking about how one of my favorite teachers talked about the cycles and circles that civilizations travel,  becoming more modern and more “civilized” only to fall back into the same trend as before. Seemingly following an inescapable track which spirals upwards in history. A ring for which we all must travel through the course of our lives.

Recently I have been feeling as if my life as been going in a strange circle, a loop for which there is no end. Though it’s not the same place in which I started, its similar. Not the same conversation, but close. Finding myself in situations in which I thought I had just gotten out of.  Some of the circles are good ones, eating right, exercising, talking with friends but not all are positive. Coming face to face with things over and over, choosing similar answers to the situation only to bring me back to the same place a little while later. It’s the power of habit and comfort controlling my life. This track in which I have grown accustom but at the same time somewhat despise because nothing changes. The same choices and no changes.

The only way to break free of this track in which I am riding is to choose a different road. Go on a different path, one I have never gone on before. For me its hard to stray from this place I have become so accustomed, in which I have this illusion of control. I just can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again and expecting for me to get further on my journey. These are chaotic rings that allow me to choose over and over again a different path, allow me to change my life at any moment of it, but make the path always look less promising that what I know. That is the curse of the other path, it’s not a guarantee nor do I know where it leads. On the road in which to improve myself the only thing to do is to learn from my mistakes and take the other path hoping I find a better track to ride, I at least have the power to choose which cycle in which I want to become accustom.

Counting recently, I realized I have been through the school application process 4 times in my life. For high school, college from high school, college from community college, and now with grad school.  About a week ago I interview for graduate school and i got this familiar feeling in my chest. A feeling that I had gotten when I went to orientation for the first time I went to college.

My girlfriend at the time commented that even though I had gone to Italy for three weeks, the 3 days I was gone were much emotional. I am starting to understand why. When I am on a trip, I have a home to come back to, a home which greets me with familiar friends, family, and places. It’s a permanent place, so regardless of where I go, I can count on it being there when I get back. Thats why going on the trip this summer didn’t impact me as much. Going for that interview though, realizing that home will now be someplace unfamiliar made me fear the future.  My parents both came from different parts of the country for different reason, picking up from where the familiar was to find a new and better place for themselves. When talking to my mother about it, she gave me some insight, when she left, she hated the place she was and needed to get out. I on the other hand, don’t have a problem with where I live, I actually like it so it makes it hard to think I could leave.

I didn’t realized there were these lines that were connected to me.  I always thought I was free of them and of the sentimental goings on of those who were attached to a place. Turns my mind may be free but I am bound secretly to the things around me.

Home will always be a fond memory, the people around me that I owe so much will always be in my heart, and the lessons I have learned are in my mind. So wherever I am, I know at least have already packed the important things.

Back in high school I ran all the time in the evenings. It was the only time I had, so by the time eight or nine a clock came around I laced up my shoes and headed out the door. I knew the route I would take by heart so I never thought about it, I just followed my feet. The cold night air and a stillness of the night always made the run enjoyable. It was always me against the concrete that I ran on, but after a while of running I go used to it, I got better at it so I needed to find a new target.  A goal which I can improve myself on and push me to keeping going faster and further than before. The problem was that I always ran alone… the next best solution used the streetlights as my guide. It illuminated my shadow in front of me as I went along the path so I decided to chase my shadow. The intangible reflexion of myself, that always was a few feet in front of me no matter how hard I pushed myself. It became what I wanted to be, my ideal, always reaching toward but never being able to accomplish.

As any child, I chase my parents shadows, seeing their lives as they have them, forgetting the years of hardship and experience they gained to get there. I am at a weird time where I am trying to figure out what I want in life, but only seeing the end result, never the journey and the cost of things. I have been chasing shadows my whole life, running after things and people for what I thing could be instead of what they are.  Shadows that are seemingly huge only to realize its actually small, simple steps to get there. It’s hard to chase shadows, it doesn’t show you the way, it doesn’t  show you what it took to get there, all it is a representation of what could be when you cast light on it.  Its ironic in a way that what creates shadows is what destroy them. I can’t catch a shadow, because it was never there in the first place.

I don’t want to chase shadows, especially of those who are around anymore. I want to see the people behind the shadow, illuminating the path I have to take for myself.

As I have made it evident, I have been having a hard time the last several months when returning home from my long trip.  A feeling of emptiness that persisted for months, a feeling of being left along, the burden of major decision weighing on my shoulders,  and my mind turning to the darker places in life. I was in a storm and I drove thin the people who decided to try and weather the rain and wind with me, to them (especially my ex-girlfriend) I am eternally grateful.  I was lucky in some respects, I could have lost much more than I did, I could have become catatonic from all the darkness and missed out on doing what I needed to.  After all the chaos and change that was going on, I found people to lean on and to help me through it. I needed to learn to be able to get back up on my own but a helping hand is something I learned to take.  I was able to get back up on my feet, after the long night to find the world still mostly intact.  Soon, my dark world became a little more illuminated for me to see the people around me, the color of the world restored little by little. It’s funny how in the time when they are dark they make it seem to make the world feel cold and shallow, only to find that we are missing so much when the light returns.

The story isn’t over though. This darkness was replaced by intensity of spirit. It maintained me for some time. The feeling of great and powerful emotions, happiness and sadness, anger and patience, all these returning in great waves crashing against the harbor of my life. The feeling gave me color and the ability to be happy but it also brought about the feeling of a fragile existence. Like I am walking on ice on a frozen lake, knowing I could fall in any time. The intensity is though unsustainable, though it amplifies the good emotions it also amplifies the bad ones. Anger and a sense of intolerance rose up in my life. A particularity about how I want things done, a wanton feeling of not wanting to put up with anything.  The desire to be chased but not to chase by the things I want. It’s got me up on my feet, but I needed more. Acting on how my emotions feels like swaying  and has no consistency to it. I wanted it though because it gave me the ability to act, and made me feel free for some time.

This desire for something more sustainable persisted, before the waves of emotions broke something more important. Fortunately, I woke up this morning realizing what I was missing, deliberate action. Putting myself into what I want to do, and fueling it by ourselves.  For me, I want to fuel it with love. The love of what I do, the love of the world around me, and treating those around me with love. It is a feeling that is sustainable and makes me feel complete. To love the world, and everything in it. The emotion, that inspires me to be great and picks me up instead of pushing others things down.  Thats not to say I won’t get mad or feel negatively but its that approach gives me the ability to grow and it makes the world a beautiful place once again.

I will ultimately never be done with my desire for self improvement but I feel like it I can give my all to whatever I am doing. I leave with a quote again, this time by Isaac Asimov.

“However, I continue to try and I continue, indefatigably, to reach out. There’s no way I can single-handedly save the world or, perhaps, even make a perceptible difference – but how ashamed I would be to let a day pass without making one more effort.”

I have always been a patient person, at least with others it has never been a problem. I am the last person in the car to get frustrated and yell at traffic, the one who will sit calmly in a waiting room and weight my turn. I would say it is one of my strengths that I learned from a young age from both of my parents. Sure, there are times when I get antsy about the result or bored, but I have always been able to brave the storm.

The problem is,recently I fully the extent of my patience. It only extends to others, when it comes to myself I seem to not have any left. It leads me to get frustrated when I find that I can’t do something, or am trying to get better at something. I want to get better and be good at everything immediately which is a silly notion. It drives me to learn as much as I can as quickly as possible which is great, but I find myself being too hard on myself. Pushing myself down, being my own dark voice, berating myself about my lack of ability and my apparent lack of strength in the matter. Leading my mind to either shape up or ship out.  I don’t need to be my own bad guy, the world will tell me enough that I can’t or I shouldn’t, I need to be on my own team. I need to give myself the support I try to give to those around me.

What I want and know I have to work on is to be patient with myself just as I am with others.  Knowing that not everything happens all at once and even for me, I will have to work at it. Taking small steps toward my future, and knowing sometimes that will be okay. It reminds me of a speech from the movie Any Given Sunday.  Life is a game of inches, and pushing myself to be greater than the person I was a moment before is what I should for. I want to end with a line from one of my favorite anime.

“We evolve, beyond the person that we were a minute before. Little by little, we advance with each turn. That’s how a drill works!”

Thank You for reading.

It took me a little while before I realize, that general fear and anxiety had entered my life.  It came without me knowing, only giving me enough time to react. It like found myself along that dark and scary path lined by trees so even the moonlight would reach the ground. It felt like the world was trying its hardest to break me and my spirit.  Making small hurdles and obstacles in the road seem like towering walls with no change of success. It made me drop down and worry about all the little things that may or may not even happen. Paranoid about the what ifs, creating more fear in the process. The fear humble me before its might, reducing me and crushing me into my small helpless self.

Its been a lot, and I have been consumed by it on my journey.  Some parts become too scared to move, never knowing how to begin or if its even worth while. Others I avoid, act like the problem isn’t there and try to move on with my life as if nothing is going on. Both of those things are not good for progress.

I realized, after my breakup that I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep wasting my time and wallowing but the fear returned, afraid of being alone with myself.  Afraid of touching the things that I once found so great in that they would wither with my hands and something I loved would becoming something I despise.  I left room and the things in it to collect dust hoping that I could find enough to fulfill me outside of it. Each time coming back, afraid of slumping back into my small self.

I’m done with fear, it doesn’t go away by putting it off, and I have always known that.  I have been able to face it head on as I got older, with or without help from others.  That’s who I was and who I am, not strong from weights but strong of spirit. Everyone gets afraid, and I know sometimes it feels like the world is ending, but I can’t let that win, I have to do all I can and relinquish the rest. I may stumble and I may fall, but I will get back up and face the music. I will face the trees and darkness on my path, and become the light I need to continue on my journey.

Happy New Year

An ancient greek philosopher by the name of Heraclitus said “The Only Thing That Is Constant Is Change”. Whether it be subtle or monumental, change is an inevitable part of my life, to live is to change.

I am familiar with change, upon returning from my trip, I was greeted by a world much more foreign to me than the places I had visited. This place was back home with my mother and sister. The world that was home was a different place then when I had left two years before, and though not everything was different, it didn’t stop me from feeling lost and isolated. It had been weird returning to the room I had grown up in, the one that held my lingering childhood. I felt off, like had not grown with me in the last couple years, and stayed stagnant. I had to change that, bring it the years it missed.

The unfortunate part about change, is that I don’t get to pick the speed. Some things move too slow, such as getting a job, which always takes forever and a day. Others move too fast, like applications and days leading up to deadlines.  My pacing was all off and I needed to adjust.

Not all change was bad though, I was out of school for the first time ever and embarking on a new chapter of my life. I knew my dream was still in place, I still had some people who were my constant in my life. I worked forward and through many external and many more internal struggles, I got what I needed to done. I met some of my goals and it has been a long process but I have from grown from change.

Change was in everything, even within me. That change was erratic, as I felt the uneasiness of my footing in this strange land. Adapting and getting the things I needed took time and effort. With that time came the shifting seasons and the rotation of the season rich in holidays. With time, comes inevitable changing.

Now I find myself, for better or worse faced with much more change to come, a lot more growing to do, and many more avenues to explore. Though tough changes will come, it is in these hard times though that help define my character and whom I become. As I said before, to live is to change, and I am ready to change and grow along with it.