life

Graduating Sweet

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May through June many eager students finish their credits and classes to finally break free the holds of a school and receive a diploma verifying their achievements and training that they spent years trying to obtain.  It’s a very happy time, though can be bittersweet because in it’s nature it represents an inevitable change in the world for a great many people.

This was how this year’s graduation felt, bittersweet. Never have I ever been so invested in the wellbeing of my upperclassmen as I have this past year.  I have been to a great many graduations, but this one was a send-off to many people who I have spoken to, connected to, and love. I sat there thinking about this as one after one, each of my friends got up to be honored for their great achievements of which they all should be extremely proud.  For a moment sitting there, I want them all to just stick around, for nothing to change, for next week just to be next week and not a path to something new.

I’m not an emotional person, I am extremely passionate but I am not one to tear up during these events. Why should I? I am so happy for these people to move forward with their lives, to find their new adventures and get on with their journeys. We still have our memories together right, they won’t forget these times together.  Yeah sure, a couple months or years from now they might get busy but it won’t change our relationship, regardless of how much longer it takes them to reply. They will all be meeting new people, learning new things, and being great in their own way and staying will only hold them back, and they need to fly in their own way because there so much for them in the skies ahead.

Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet, and if it hasn’t it won’t for a while. Probably not until after everything settles down and I recognize how much I have gotten used to their presence. Maybe after not being able to hear their laugh in the hall,  or being able to wander into the lab and talk about some far off idea, Maybe after starting to miss these strange conversations we would have, and missing the familiar faces I no longer see. I will miss them all in their own ways because they all mattered to me.

I am lucky, during graduation sat next to my friends who I have spent the last year with, working, growing, and laughing together. I will have them this next year as this stressful program continues to push us to the moment we are standing on stage graduating together. I am happy I still have them with me because if everyone left, I don’t know what I would do.

We will all see each other again, but my hope is when it comes time and I get up on that stage, that I am at least half as great as any of my friends I saw graduating today.

3 Year Research Aniversary

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I didn’t realize until notified by Facebook that three years ago today I presented my first academic poster.  Interestingly enough, today was also the first time I gave a research talk in front of an audience.  The strange part is the difference between who I was back then, and who I am now.  It was a world of change, and the journey is the most interesting part.

I was in my final year of my undergrad, conducting my own research project under the tutelage of a professor who gave me the opportunity to work for them.  There I was, at the culmination of a year’s worth of work, standing in front of a poster, presenting all that could. The time I spent, over and over crafting that paper and ink was extreme. I wanted it to be the best thing it could be. I had undercut myself, didn’t think big.  I did a poster, and yet through it all was unsatisfied because it felt like it wasn’t enough.

I’m here now, having gone through this journey and come out the other side realizing that I didn’t do enough. I didn’t strive hard enough, like a chicken with its head cut off, I didn’t know which way was up or down, just that I needed to keep moving. I am a man fortunate enough to have second chances and recognize when I have the opportunity to correct something. To do more than I thought I could before.

But today I gave a talk and though I still feel that hunger from wanting to do more, I know where my next step is, and where to put in the effort. Today is like the second chance, a change and proof of growth.  I like the sound of that.

A Thousands Not Enough

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It’s like drugs I think, working towards something you love.  Each and every day I feel consumed by it, consumed by wanting it, always pushing for it. From dawn til dusk and from dusk til dawn  I work or think about working all the time which I know isn’t the most balanced way to live but if I wanted a balanced life I wouldn’t have chosen academia as a goal.  But it reminds me of a saying from high school when they made us do drug prevention education.  One’s too much, a thousand not enough.

It’s hard sometimes because it always feels like I’m behind. When I am sitting alone with my thoughts, it comes up. I should be productive right now, the better me would be productive.  My imagined competition doesn’t have these problems or worries, they simply work.  They are a machine and by the time we both apply, their long grocery list of accomplishments dwarfs the lines on my applications I managed to throw together. These thoughts have started to peek into my normal life, my social life, my relaxation.

I know I should keep many of these things in life separate, but I can’t, or more like I won’t.  It flows through me, and in some ways is me. To be so intertwined is ultimately detrimental for my wellbeing, for I will live and die in this small world that has no reason or recourse to reciprocate my feelings.  It’s a dangerous thing, dreaming, not because of what happens when you’re doing it but what happens after you wake up.  So I must tear myself away from it kicking and screaming, enjoy the world around me while it lasts, invest in other things knowing full well that each moment I spend away is a moment deprived from my goal.  I should think of it as an investment, it’s always good to diversify my portfolio, but I found the one thing I want to be the best at, so it’s hard to pull away from feeding this monster.

I have to turn off at some point. Let go and drift for a while to rest. Other people deserve my attention, and I should give it to them.  It’s what they deserve, and it’s with them that I will make it through.

These restless moments, this forlorn daydreaming keeps me going and pushing forward into the day where everything is always slightly out of reach.

The Long Straight Ahead

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Here I am, driving along this desert road with the smooth rumble of the wheels under my car along a highway acts as a lullaby.  Miles in each direction there is nothing but open expanse.  Hours ago I saw those lights slunk away, the views of my previous life. Now it’s just me and this road in the darkness. I want to squeeze down on the gas, speed towards where I am going, I feel stuck on this road, and it feels regardless of how fast I am going, I won’t make it to my destination any quicker. I know the roads and streets at my destination aren’t going anywhere. I want to see the lights out on the horizon before the lights go out. I want to look at the lights before the sun comes up and washes out the night.

I’ve been getting really excited recently, about my future. The science fiction of my childhood is finally becoming a reality.  The problem I am having is that I want part of that future. I want one of the hands who help shape it.  Each moment that passes by it feels like I am missing out on being able to dive head first into the water and make waves.  My journey is still has a long way to go.  Probably about 6 years before I start to have a little more control over my destiny.  I work at it every day, and yet I want to be there already.

I mean I’m nervous for the next transition, and maybe it is the instability of not knowing where the next step of my future will be.  The next couple months feel like that will help put on the correct path for my future and that weight bearing down on me is starting to crack me.  It’s hard because it’s all about chasing the right opportunities.  Go down this path but avoid that other one.  Make sure to do this, but also do that. It’s so confusing, and even though I’m supposed to be on a track, it feels more like climbing a tree.  With each limb I grab onto will change the next branch I can reach.  Hopefully, when push comes to shove, I will be tall enough to bridge the gap between branches.

It’s easy to forget that the journey makes the destination worthwhile. I need to take a second and evaluate my journey because I am so focused on this next point that I do not see the world around me. I need to breathe. I need to enjoy the endless road ahead because if I don’t, I’ll never make it to my destination and know to keep moving. The world is an endless adventure and the sun will rise soon enough, I don’t need to rush it.

Recharge

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I think people believe that I can be around people all day. Not an unsubstantiated belief because for most of the day, you will find me around and talking to others.  I do though run out of steam, and in those moments I need to draw back and fold into myself.

I’ve just been feeling tired lately, and it’s not just because of the atrocious sleeping schedule that I have adopted but because I haven’t had that time to recharge and be by myself.  I haven’t made this time and with the coming and going of projects and events the last day I had to myself was over a month ago.  I have a high tolerance, but eventually, I do run out of steam. This is a massive problem because it causes me to fall behind, not be involved like I could. I am not able to give 100% because my batteries are only partially recharged. So my health, my work, and those around me I need this time to just be me. There are only so many days that I can follow this intense routine before the routine itself starts to break down, and I start to resent all that holds me together

 

What do I do, write, read, sleep, nothing really spectacular. Sometimes I watch shows, but there is a hesitation because what if I get too involved. I used to play video games, but with my schedule, I am worried I will become too immersed in it.  It’s almost not fair or healthy that I keep giving these things up for my degree.  What I do narrows, to the point where I find myself staring out of windows, losing myself in the horizon.  I know it’s about balance, but I have to do what I can to survive.

This though presupposes a problem.  That what I doing, resisting these urges to play will ultimately catch up to me.  It’s like when the people in your life make you choose between two things that you love, even though you will still end up with what you want, the cost of the other weights down on your decision.  If you do this enough, it will eat away at you, just like it’s starting to eat away at me.  To the point where I get so drained that my mind can’t move forward unless I stop.

I need these moments because they are like precious nutrients to keep my days from becoming carbon copies of each other.  To keep me inspired and moving forward. I had a day earlier this week that I got these nutrients, and the whole next day it felt like I was on top of the world.  It didn’t last long, that night I had to spend my night working long hours to get my work done. This day gave me something though, hope. Hope for what could be if I figure this thing out.  So like the scientist I aspire to be, I will test this, and make it work.  Find out where I can recharge these batteries so when the time comes, I will have the energy to be the all of me that I want to be.

 

Meta Self Contemplation

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I started this blog a long time ago with the intended purpose to think and put into writing aspects of my life.  It was always something I had wanted to do, keep a record of things as I go from place to place.  The record of my life as it is for both people to read and to go back on to find the steps I have taken on this journey. The motivation came from different sources, the deterioration of my personal relationships, the darkening of my outlook, my desire to change and be open with the world.  It has been what fueled me, but I have fallen short of my goals in some ways, though I keep at it, hoping to find the light out in the darkness.

I write because I like to write and think about my life.  It’s what I am good at, or at least thats what people tell me. I have been thinking about my life since I began to think, always wondering if those insignificant moments that pass me by would mean anything to me, if the person who lived through those moments would be remembered or evaporate like the morning dew from the onset of the heat of the day. I have largely kept these thoughts a secret,  for the scars on my heart seal up words within as a way to protect my being from the onslaught of unwanted spotlights.

This perspective changed though in my recollection of a midnight reflection, suffering in the silence over the lady I loved.  I sat there under the starlight in the quiet stillness of the early hours breaking down, unable or maybe unwilling to change.  I needed to do something, both for myself and for those around me, I needed to win and break out of this tumultuous cycle of inability.  So what did I do, the last thing most people would think I would do, write. I wrote because I could. I wrote because needed to. I wrote because every ounce of my being told me to.

So I fought towards the light, and though I lost much, I learned a lot.  In this journey, I ripped and sewed together pieces of myself in the hopes of righting all that I am, so in the future, I could walk taller than I did that day.  Each word I wrote was a struggle, years of grammatical challenges don’t bode well for self-confidence. But here I am and here I think, I have I really laid myself bare upon the page? Have really reconstructed myself from within.  Old problems still arise and each time I am given an opportunity to change, and truth be told, I fail more than I would like but I keep walking.

What is the point of this message then, what have I learned.  I have talked about being open and honest and yet at the keys I avoid or soften these truths about myself in fear and loathing, in pride and “protection”.  I know this keeps me from truth, and liberty of these thoughts and feelings.  It keeps me from really pouring my heart onto a page.  You can’t filter out your soul and expect people to feel it.

I will change that though, now:

I am a mixture of self-confident, and self-depreciating, never letting me fly too high because I am worried about the fall, but also crushed when I miss my opportunity in be in the sky
I am afraid of my scars and memories, I flinch when coming across old moments and triggers. I reminds me of who I was and I fear if I stay to long I will return to this powerless younger self. I spend time moving through to heal but I still feel the marks on my soul.
I try to be a good friend and family member, and it is a work in progress. Years of trying to distance yourself from other people has that affect on you.
I love from the bottom of my heart everyone one in my life.  I could be from the shattered self-esteem of my youth but in growing into who I am has taught me to appreciate those moments I have with other people because in my eyes they are you are your own personal miracle.
I am bad at telling people how I feel about them.
I just want to help people, know what it’s like to suffer and struggle, know you are not alone and I am here to give what I can.
I am bad at asking for help.
I am afraid I am not enough great things, that I am destined for mediocrity.
Whenever I think I am smart, the universe seems to want to remind me that I am not as smart as I think I am.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
For a long time, I was afraid to love because of a worry that it will never be as deep and full as the love I had before.
I don’t understand why people like more or want to be around me.
I don’t believe people when they tell me I look nice.
I honestly just like being a nice person, no strings attached.
I sincerely believe that anyone is capable of pretty much anything, the bad, and the great alike, you just need to find your way of doing it.
I am religious (Catholic), and I don’t really know why I just like it and I am still trying to figure it out.
I like to learn about politics and listen to new opinions, but to be honest, I think most of what people are saying is kinda stupid, nothing is black and white and yet most of politics treats the world that way.
I believe most people want to do good out there in the world and are innately good.
I do have common sense.
I want to be one of the great minds of the twenty-first century.
My greatest fear is to be forgotten.

In laying this out, I hope to clear this veneer that lays between me and my thoughts.  I want to be better, so I will do it, one step at a time.

 

To Touch The Sun

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Always so close, I reach out and try and touch that perfect ball in the sky, but as it seems, it still slightly out of reach.  When will I be able to grab it and make it mine, when will I touch it and finally obtain perfection? Will these waxwings hold up long enough to reach, or will the sun always be meant for those who were born to touch it?

I know the notion of perfection is more of a novel pursuit than an achievable goal.  Even when I get there, I will always think about how I could have done it better or where the next bar is.  Then again this type of thinking might be keeping me from achieving my elusive desire.
It confuses me, in my humanity, I find the varied levels of flaws that make us beautiful but see the skill and determination to overcome these flaws to achieve something real.  Watching practiced experts and driven people accomplish these feats of seeming perfection only to fall short constantly myself and fall into frustration.  Like the analogous frog at the bottom of the well, wondering how much to jump before I learn to fly.

Truth is, I screw up way more than I would like.  Fall short, and never entirely getting there, this repeated failure is starting to gripe on me.  It’s frustrating me to no end that I can never get through anything without making a mistake.
Maybe it’s practice I need or patience.  Maybe it’s confidence or talent.  Maybe there is something inside of me that keeps me from achieving this ridiculous goal, and that something was embedded in my very soul. I just don’t know, and it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.  Why can’t it just be 100% right, why must there be cracks and nicks in these foundations?  How can I build if I know that at any given moment it can fall because of my mistakes?

I feel fractured, weathered, and worn, like a forgotten statue beat by the sands of times, eroding and missing pieces so its once true self is lost and all you can see is a resemblance of what could have been.  I know this is dramatic, but this seeping frustration kneads itself into my heart.

It is an unrealistic standard that will only play as a detriment to my future. If I am only worried about perfection, then the mountain of work will become sheer and unclimbable because each move will be individually meticulous. It’s always about that balance because the sky is not only filled with the sun but also the cloud. Clouds which are formless and beautiful in their own right.  I want things to be perfect but choosing where to put this effort to reach out, and where to let the wind take me is all part of life.

 

To St. Patrick’s Day (Late)

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Dear St. Patricks Day,

You know I have always loved you. You’ve been the representation of a culture that has always opened the door for me. From the generation of my grandmother, you have shown me nothing but acceptance, even in the days of my darkest identity crisis. St. Patrick, though I know your history, you represent so much more. Each and every year you come in the midsts of the season of Fasting, but an indulgence in you feels nothing like a sin. It’s an acceptance, a proving grounds of blood ties that I know flows through my veins. It’s the unquestioning nature of this aspect of myself that I find serenity, like a cornerstone on which I can build a future.  It’s in knowing you that I know the lack of my other identities, from their sliding and uneasy nature fall away and I reach that small serenity.
Oh St. Patrick, you are called so well, the holiday of a people’s who live across the sea.  We share in that connection, we share in that praise because we know that we will be together with you at the end of our days.  We can connect, and be free, it’s what this holiday represents to me.
And here are my final words for such an important day, it doesn’t matter where you come from, or where you might be going, it doesn’t matter how much money you make, or how you might be born, as long as we celebrate together, you can become a little Irish too.

Most Sincerely,
Me

Plane Musings

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Time. Here I wish the day stretched one more hour, to have moments perhaps that will slow down and stop. Remembering to stop and breathe has never been so conscious to me before. I find these moments in the cracks of disroutine. When I deviate from my ordinary plan to step into the present and not live in the constantly unfolding future. What I need is a little time, little time to remember to look at the sky and remember how lovely the cloud look.

I’m sitting on a plane when writing this, a plane that is crossing the United States for the distinct purpose of transporting 100 people with all different lives and intentions to its destination. Intention fuels this plane, pays for its gas, keeps the employees employed, an intention that can’t be touched but malleable like the air I float on. I am on this journey in an attempt to move closer to my dream. A dream that remains unrealized, but finally appearing within reach. These next few days, though not critical in the fulfillment of my dream will drive push me to exhaustion in an attempt to extract every last ounce of potential form it. It’s here, 30,000 feet above the world staring down at the clouds below that I know that I have to make the most of these little moments, to make it possible for me to be successful in the big ones.

I wish I had more time to stop, and breath to be honest. Everything feels so crucial essential right now, though I understand that I have a type of tunnel vision of my goals. Even if I did have an extra hour in the day, I don’t know if I would be using it to rest, more likely, I would be using my energy to push myself even harder than before, with proportionally less time to recover. I know this is problematic, but I finally feel like I am where I should be and doing what I should do. My endless hope is that at the end of it all, with all the work I put in, I will finally get what I want. If not, well, I guess I will figure it out then.

One day I want to be that person everyone looks to surpass, the milestone that people look to exceed. I want people to see me not just what I have done but how I inspired others too. That I know is something that will only come with time. I hope one day I’ll look back at this moment and smile because that’s exactly what I did.

The Wall of Dreams

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I’ve seen it now, the wall that I am to defeat. The one on the far end of the frontier of ability, at the edge of talent, and potential.  I saw but a glimpse of it, that day when I reached the end of where my body allowed me to go.  I saw it, the sheer concrete slap that rises high above the treeline of my life.  It’ stands there as a challenge to goad me in attempting to scale its heights. It was there, far off in the horizon that I saw it, almost mythical off in the distance, but as I closed my eyes it was gone, but I know I will see it again, but next time I will be stronger in its presence, next time I will where to begin.

If there is anything about this past year that has stood out to me, is the number of times I have gotten sick.  For a guy who regularly gets only ill once per year this past year has been a wake-up call that something is changed that my body doesn’t agree with.  It’s doesn’t take a genius to make the observation that going back to school has taken its toll on me.  This last time getting sick, I realized I am pushing myself too hard without letting my body recover.  The stress, lack of stable sleep, new exercise regiment, and irregular eating habits are great at breaking down my body but only time, rest, and taking care of myself are the only defense to this destruction.

This time was different, I felt so unable, so weak. I had come so far as to put out all these fires in my life but when it came to working progressively toward my father off goals, I was unable.  I am expending so much energy and had nothing left to give. It’s a strange feeling, having worked up to that point but feeling so powerless to keep going but I wanted to keep stretching my arms out for just a little bit more.  It wasn’t a feeling I liked, a helplessness to it, a bittersweetness of knowing I have reached this point because I am only human but knowing I can learn to do so much more because I am human.   As I laid down to recover in my short reprieve from work, I thought about how I can become better at this, which ways I can be more efficient at this. How can I strip everything down to rebuild myself stronger? In the moments before fading to sleep, I think of the things that allow me to keep going, the things that keep my mind sane as my body breaks down. The things which in sacrificing would feel like destroying parts of myself. I hold these things sacred because they are a sanctuary, a resting place for me to catch my breath. Where I can finally let myself recover from the torrent and the storm.

What I would like to say is I am thankful to all the people in my life that I can take a moment to talk to, for however long the conversation may be, it offers a reprieve from the insanity.  It gives me strength knowing that ultimately there is love in the world like this that may bloom in the moments of small connections like a wildflower after the rain. I may only see you once, but your beauty leaves a lasting mark. With all the strength I get from you, I  dare to dream of conquering the wall in my life, the one in which the fulfillment of my dreams lies on the other side of.  There I will be happy knowing I didn’t do it alone, I was fortunate to bring a little piece of everyone with me.