On Jerusalem

As the mountains surround Jerusalem, So the LORD surrounds His people
From this time forth and forever.
Psalm 125:2

Jerusalem | Filmed in Imax 3D from JerusalemGiantScreen on Vimeo.

There is much to say about Jerusalem, and I suppose I will write more later. But I came across this video, and it got my mind turning again.

First, the Old Testament makes much more sense after experiencing the physical geography. The Psalm above was posted on a vista looking south across the Kidron Valley and away from the Temple Mount. As a literature nerd, I have always been mesmerized with themes and word pictures, and Scripture employs both quite well. Memorable speakers and presenters engage the audience with tangible reminders, and the Hebrew authors were no different.

Secondly, I took another moment during the movie to ignore the British-accented narrator and the majestic swelling of the orchestra and looked at the landscape. While there is varied climate and terrain, much of Palestine is barren. It seems (to me) to be a difficult place to make a life. Even miles of unbroken sand dunes stretching into the distance have a particular sort of allure. But dust, intermixed with rocky crags, random valleys, fairly severe changes in altitude, and a Dead Sea do not present an idyllic scene.

This got me thinking: why would God show His face here? Is this the sort of place that is meant to evoke His Kingdom and His Majesty? What is the benefit of proclaiming, "If you seek Me, you must meet Me here"?

And, of course, the ready reply. Why does He choose to show Himself through us? What sort of beauty do we possess? He makes His dwelling in this place to bring the Supernatural to the ordinary. Thank goodness He has a habit of using imperfection.

Lastly, I felt a certain manner of discomfort -- even disconnection -- in Jerusalem. There was plenty of zealousness to go around, and religious relics abound. But very little of it felt familiar...in the seat of Christianity and in the epicenter of Judaism.


It seems to me at times that we as a culture (Western civilization, American Christianity, Protestantism) mythologize religion as a foundation and affirmation for our way of life. It turns out that Al-Aqsa is different than the Western Wall is different than the Holy Sepulchre (and the resident Armenians, Coptics, Franciscans, etc) is different than the Vatican is different than Saddleback Church.

Perhaps this is still my Western perspective at work, but one question that I repeatedly asked myself was: How must I see and approach God differently -- more rightly? Both God (and man) have erected so many guideposts in this place. I cannot change nor discard my upbringing, but it would be arrogant and stubborn of me to ignore the traditions that are tangential with my own. The room in which I was taught Sunday School is much different than the physical world in Palestine.

So, what is the meaning of this Psalm?

The literal protection of a particular people group is absurd given ancient and recent history. It must refer to a broader definition of protection. How does God measure time? Not by the lifespan of my hands, or even the measure of hands on a watch... but by the mountains that surround and hold His City.

New Project

It appears likely that I'll be rolling out a discussion forum of sorts with some others where there can be lively debate and conversation. I'm not sure how that will affect my posting habits here (it will probably increase), but there will probably be some overlap or duplicate posting. If all goes well, look for that over the next couple weeks. The idea itself is novel & collaborative and should make for a good time.

In other news, I spent the weekend with The Sabellian and CK1 (the doctor, not the cologne). As part of Sunday service, the Lord's Prayer was recited -- still wise words after all these years.

Daily Bread: I only have the capacity for about one day's worth of blessings and troubles. Now that I think about it, that's all I can ever handle, but sometimes we presume to take on more. I tend to run in feast-or-famine cycles with habits and the rest of life, so it's an interesting and refreshing change of pace to have a sort of daily sustenance of community, thought, and progress.

Forgive us our trespasses: This is quite an audacious request in light of the wrongs we commit. Thank goodness for God's unending forgiveness. Coupled with it is the sobering reminder of the responsibility to forgive others. An odd juxtaposition of the awareness of my own brokenness, the brokenness of others, and the wholeness of God and how all that fits together. There's a reliance and connectedness that's undeniable.

Interesting Weekend Moment

So we went back for the ND/Washington football game, and of course, found ourselves playing frisbee golf on campus Sunday. We actually encountered the Leprechaun walking, in full regalia, across campus, leading to this exchange.

Leprechaun: How's it going guys?

Ben: Good - how are you doing?

Me: What's going on today?

Leprechaun: Women's volleyball game at the JACC.

Lee: Very cool - good luck!

Mike: Go Irish!

Leprechaun: Go Irish!

(pause)

Craig: That whole interaction needed a subtitle reading "This is Sportscenter."

Random Thoughts, Part 357

Today's reason I love my wife: I'm trying to build momentum networking after a good presentation at ND, and she's been talking to her classmates about best practices. One guy said to her, "You seem surprised at his actions and passions." Her response? "Well, yeah. He's kind of been a sleeper cell."

When she relayed this info to me over the phone, I asked her if we should rejoice that I'm no longer sleepwalking through life or worried that I'm displaying terrorist tendencies. Faaaantastic! :)

~~~

Now that I have some perspective, I can honestly say there was never a night at ND or Indianapolis (and now Atlanta) where I fell asleep thinking "man, I wish I was living in California." Oh, I'd spend some time thinking "I wish there was semblance of warmth outside" or "I miss being near (insert individual name here)." I spent many days thinking about living in NC and Atlanta, and Atlanta's turned out to be a good thing so far. I wonder what it means if tonight I fall asleep thinking about living in Rome -- this isn't the first time for that either...

Weekend Recap

So it's Monday, I'm tired again, but if I don't write some stuff down here, time will keep marching on. This weekend was pretty awesome -- The Philosophress and I got to stay in a six-star resort in Phoenix as part of the BCG recruiting process. I didn't have to miss work and didn't have to deal with jet lag since I didn't leave the Pacific Time Zone.

Aside from sweet food, some familiar faces, and spending time together, there was the Saturday kayaking trip. There were various activities, but I think we hit the jackpot, as we had a two-person inflatable kayak for a downriver 3 mile excursion. As an aside, I think that marriage counselors should set up a nearby tent anywhere there's an activity that requires husband-wife coordination. We quickly learned that we could just float to our destination "Lazy River" style, but others were not so fortunate, running into rocks, low-hanging tree branches, etc.

We were told that there was a chance to see bald eagles and herds of wild mustangs, and sure enough, we hit the jackpot -- the second time this year The Philosophress and I have encountered a bald eagle whilst kayaking. Throw in the overcast day with some intermittent light showers, and it was definitely a relaxing and enjoyable afternoon in the Tonto National Forest.

It was also great to just chill with one of the scoutmaster guides, who was a young guy probably in his early 30s. He also does survival training, so I asked him my best Bear Grylls questions. We also got into some of the crazy things he's heard tourists say through the years, including a lady who would stop paddling, lean waaay over each side of the kayak and peer into the water. When asked what was wrong, she replied, "I'm just trying to see the track this thing's on."

Then there are those who pull their kayaks out of the water, see the buses, and say "Oh great, right back where we started." That's right -- the mysterious circular river.

Or the lady that demanded that the guide "bring the horses back out" because she wanted to see them again.

Some people really need to get outside more often...

~~~

Then Sunday we met up with Lee, Junk, and their ladies as an added ND bonus to cap off the weekend. It was fantastic to see all four of them, and there's some mischief planned, hopefully taking the form of camping in/near the Grand Canyon. I'll be tracking this story with interest, as I'm trying to be a bigger fan of the outdoors and shed the "clean and proper boy" moniker...

Sadly, No Midwest Trip for me

Well, until this morning there was an outside chance I'd be on campus for the ND-Purdue game, but the combination of procrastination, lack of airline miles, and the industry's general desire for loads of cash keeps in SoCal for the weekend.

No matter, The Philosophress will be out for the weekend with instructions to be an ambassador for both of us and to bring home a W. Welcome her as you would me: with open arms, although with fewer butt slaps, please.

In job seaching news, this means I can be productive this weekend. I don't think I've been this excited about work since I was working in baseball (before the season started -- the "no days off all summer" bit tempered my enthusiasm near the end of things)...

Sign at the entrance to I-40 in Wilmington, NC

Barstow, CA: 2556 miles

Sabellian Union in Revue

So this past weekend we had the distinct privilege of witnessing the Sabellian wedding in Salem, OR. The groom was about as stressed as I'd seen him, so we set about lightening the mood and trying to get things done. I actually got to craft the first couple hours of the reception playlist, something I wish I'd had time to do for our wedding -- there's something satisfyingly organic about having one Apple laptop running the music, another projecting the photo slideshow, and a third displaying the photographer's pictures. Then it was off to the tux shop to get looking swanky. Jeremy's Nicaraguan groomsmen in particular were wondering how his "tame" ND friends would act during the weekend, but Dr. Kline and I quickly allayed their fears. The Good Doctor arrived with numerous black afro wigs so the Sabellian would feel right at home. We unveiled them during Friday's dinner, much to the delight of family and friends gathered. I like to think this was a great stress reliever for The Sabellian -- those who've been in (or near) weddings know how daunting the details become, and that was our way of giving everyone notice that the dudes were here and the Man was henceforward unavailable to answer questions on floral arrangements and other detritus. Of course, I had to explain to his family this was kind repayment for how he rolled up to my wedding weekend -- fu manchu, hair slicked into a pony tail, wife-beater with gold chains, and painter's paints.

The bachelor party was full of mischief, beginning with shotgunning Rockstars and bowling -- wigs make a fantastic bowling prop. I did my best to come up with creative bowling names, and one of the other groomsmen bought a shot for Jeremy, inducing a coughing fit. Not the best moment for our man, but then again, he was the only one who had an *actual* 'fro, so I guess the joke's on us. After a couple games we headed out, but not before the guy behind the check-in counter at the bowling alley recommended the "Glow Worm Lounge [or some similar nonsense] and ask for a girl named Sparkle." Nothing like an awkward moment with the bowling guy, telling him that's not how we roll.

Dr. Kline definitely overachieved with the post-bowling portion of the evening, providing a pinata filled with candy and other "goodies" (my personal favorite were the fishnet stockings). He even gave a short speech about how the Sabellian had found "his treasure" and something about "booty." In true manly fashion, we opted against a broomstick, instead extracting a rough-hewn plank from a nearby construction site.

We then rolled to a bar for another round of drinks, where the brother of the bride was informed that his temporary driver's license (issued by the DMV) was an unacceptable form of ID. After numerous go-arounds with management, he cruised home and returned with his actual birth certificate, which strangely convinced them he was legal to drink.

Saturday morning was pretty fantastic, when The Philosophress and I spend a good long breakfast with Dr. and Mrs. Kline. Said breakfast was punctuated with a frantic phone call from Rampolla convinced he was going to be late for the noon wedding. Boy, was he relieved when I said it started at 4p. On the way out of breakfast, we came across a mild traffic accident across from a Harley-Davidson dealership, where a new motorcycle owner (apparently) gunned her bike, crossing all lanes of traffic and cruising right through a chain link fence and into an abandoned parcel of land. Of course, Dr. Kline jumps out of the car to investigate, even before the paramedics arrived. He was in a bit of unfamiliar territory, as there were no gunshot wounds or drug addicts to treat, and everyone seemed to be ok.

While I admittedly have had limited contact with the bride's family and friends, apparently she was in a traveling choir and has a history with Canadians (may have lived there, or maybe just went to college with a bunch many from the Great White North). After the ceremony, they asked us for a couple traits used to describe Jeremy, then sang them at the reception to the tune of an upbeat Negro Spiritual. The basic jist was all the quirky characteristics from each parent that their children would manifest. While the bride got the "sugar, spice, and everything nice" treatment, they sang about our boy's height-deficiencies, love of languages, studying Augustine, and general swarthiness. I was most impressed with the four-part harmony, using jokes we had provided just 30 minutes prior. It was a fantastic reminder of what happens when good and talented people come together in celebration.

Then, on to the dancing. The FOTB has one dance: the Mashed Potato. I think still pictures exist, but it is in true Sabellian fashion. Rampolla and I taught the women to swing dance (hint: spin around and laugh), and there was much dancing to 70s disco in wigs.

As far as weddings go, it is always a good time for celebration. Mentally and emotionally for me at least, it helps that The Philosophress and I have progressed through some rough waters with enough perspective to contribute to the weekend and enjoy catching up with others and share good stories.

Memorable Weekend

Some reflections on my time in Boston that made it one of the best
weekends in many moons:

The "Star-Spangled Banner". My sole requirement factor for performing
this in public is the goosebump factor. There are many ways to
accomplish this, and Boston nailed it...God did His part by throwing
up a full palatte of sunset colors over the Charles River, the Boston
Pops provided the appropriate orchestral accompaniment, and the song's
crescendo was punctuated by a pair of F-18 jets cruising by low and
loud with their afterburners blazing.

It was good to see The Sabellian and send him off to Portland to
prepare for the wedding. It was fantastic having good conversations on
life, vocation, intermediate career steps, passions, independence and
sacrifice within marriage, wedding preparation, and community -- all
while standing outside of a swanky retail storefront in an upscale
part of downtown, commenting on plastic surgery on passersby and
watching while a couple guys threw the frisbee in the street,
occasionally hitting parked cars.

The sheer magnitude of the fireworks we're pretty astounding. Aside
from the various "I've never seen these type of fireworks before", the
night sky was so illuminated that it required concentrating with your
peripheral vision to absorb the entirety of the performance. It was
like watching one of those group dance numbers at the theatre, only
this stage stretched from the horizon to directly overhead.

The surrounding crowd enjoyment was equally pleasant. Sitting for nine
hours could have been grueling, but we passed the time admirably,
taking turns shopping, people-watching, grazing, conversing, inviting
friends-of-friends to drop by, and listening to the All-American music
soundtrack played throughout the Esplanade. When the Pops played
"Shipping Up to Boston," we we're fortunate to have an Irish dancer
just a few picnic blankets away who danced along for a little while.

While the big firework blowout was on the 4th, The Sabellians'
neighborhood does their big celebration on the evening of the 3rd (as
they say, "before all the tourists roll into town"). Although this
tourist arrived after much of the festivities died down, there was
still signs of merriment, with bonfires aplenty, bongo drums,
spontaneous dancing, and (yes!) a didgeridoo. Nature shuts down the
party around midnight with the incoming tide, extinguishing the fires
and coaxing everyone off the beach.

Of course, no weekend is complete without someone chiming in with some
crazy statistic or quip. It was The Philosophress' turn this time
around, having just read an article that found a chemical in
watermelon could be considered "the poor man's Viagra." Naturally,
that became the running joke in the Sabellian household, prompting Dad
Sabellian to question Mom Sabellian about her choice of vitamin
supplements - labeled "male performance formula" with a picture of the
male pectoral area. A closer inspection of the printed warning
included "do not take while pregnant". If you're confused, so were we.
Suffice to say, I think watermelon will be somehow involved in The
Sabellian's bachelor festivities next month.

Lastly, no great weekend is complete without highlighting the
awesomeness of The Philosophress. Last night, we took one of the last
trains out of the city, and she provided the iPod soundtrack. When the
rest of the subway car emptied 2 stops before ours, that left plenty
of space for me to request a dance. Even with everything mentioned
above, I think the highlight of my weekend was sharing a dance and a
pair of headphones with The Philosophress, singing in an empty subway
car sometime after midnight.

Shipping up to Boston

So I'm in the terminal at LAX, and this mo-blogging thing is pretty
cool. I've realized that airline sevice/atmosphere resembles less
luxury travel and more European train station these days: decreased
service/baggage, more cattle-car feel. Not sure if that's good or bad,
just a change from the way travel's been done in this country, in my
experience.

Also, I've made more than one person at work feel sheepish when
discussing weekend plans. The "what are you up to?" question is
usually met with "well, I think we're going to BBQ, maybe sit by the
pool." Instead I throw out "Oh, I'm spending the weekend in Plymouth
and Boston," which is followed by awkward silence. Yes, coworker, I'm
more All-American than you, returning to the hometown of the first
ancestors to celebrate our nation's independence (even if they aren't
necessarily *my* ancestors).

Stay tuned to see how this experience stacks up against New Year's Eve
in Times Square. The Philosophress will be reprising her role as the
attractive ingenue, and the Sabellian will again play the swarthy, if
not more learned, foil to my dashing good looks and rapier wit.

How Elvis Got His Groove Back

So my three weeks of forming daily blogging, running, and praying habits are complete, and I must say, I'm fairly pleased with the results. I've managed to keep up with the rest of life (relatively speaking) while building in some solid routines that enrich both myself and, I hope, others.

Last night, after several days of agony and writer's block, I finally broke through and made some pretty sweet progress on a writing project with a looming deadline. It's been quite a while since I've had any sort of writing project that required effort and creativity, and probably even longer since I've had the consistent drive to push against the obstacles and see things through to completion.

No time to rest though -- I have another editing project due by midweek, this time for a print publication for our church. I'm looking forward to this one as well, as it requires me to give "big picture" advise to writers and really shape the voice of personal stories.

And then off to Boston for Independence Weekend! I'm pumped for this - and I'm such a nerd to the point that I scrounged and found a pair of seersucker shorts at Ross this weekend (when on the East Coast, dress for Martha's Vineyard and get ready to talk about sailing). Since I'm now equipped with a Blackberry, I should be able to snap off some shorter reflections while I'm gone.

Next week, I'll be back and list my habits I'll be working on for the month of July.

Real Quick-like

This whole blogging/running/praying thing doesn't leave me much time to procrastinate...which means when I do, I have to write fast (like now).

So The Philosophress is spending the weekend in Puerto Rico, which is where they do their best team-building exercises. Anyhoo, she enters her hotel room to find her bed covered in rose petals, with an accompanying note addressed to Henry.

While I tried to take credit for the rose petals, the truth was apparently "Henry" and his special companion opted for a room that had something other than two twin beds, and they neglected to take their flowers with them...

Pauline Wisdom

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.

-- from 1 Corinthians 9


So I don't think I understood the purely physical implications of Paul's message until I started running. I'm finishing Day 9 of my habit training (run, write, pray) and this weekend I realized the value of habits. This weekend, I had nothing (pleasant) to look forward to other than spending time with the fam. I decided to take a day off of running, but spent the rest of the weekend dreading various events, procrastinating, and generally squirreling away the hours. Come Monday, I was thankful to be back in a routine that forced me to be productive.

I always envisioned "free time" as the goal or ideal, but now I'm beginning to see too much unstructured time as a sort of Siren Song that sucks me in. I need breaks where I can be creative and let down my guard, but I need a shell of structure that keeps my mind and body alert and moving forward. Otherwise, I'll just spend hours watching television until that wears me out and I need a nap. If I'm going to grab a Saturday afternoon nap, it at least feels more productive if I've been out for a morning jog in the canyon.

And I want to start taking public transit to work (www.irvineshuttle.net), but the experts say only build one habit at a time and I'm already trying to build three habits, so bus schedules will have to wait until July (when gas hits $5/gallon, no doubt).

My First GPS Experience

So yesterday I got to try out my BlackBerry's GPS capabilities along with Google's map feature, and I must say, I'm pretty impressed. We were on our way to a work lunch, and my boss was having trouble with his onboard navigation. After listening to several minutes of frustration, I figured I'd tool around in the back seat and see if I could come up with something helpful. I hadn't used this feature before, but it was pretty intuitive. The Google map feature triangulated my approximate position based on cell phone towers, then gave me turn-by-turn directions to the restaurant. To be fair, Google thought the destination was on the opposite side of the street, but nobody's perfect.

This is especially reassuring for those of us who don't have much of a sense of direction, and who tend to leave the house before realizing they don't *really* know they're lost until it's too late. It turns out there is a price tag for peace of mind (in this case), and it's the cost of a monthly data plan.

Deja Vu

So The Philosophress is back (yes, back) in Atlanta after spending 2 days training in Boston. I am reminded of the last paragraph in this post where I mentioned her voice sounded different on the phone. Well, we're at that place again. I don't know what it is, but every time she (we) make a positive incremental change in life, I can hear it in her voice immediately. Last year, she hadn't even pulled up to her apartment complex and I could tell this was a positive decision for us.

The last couple nights, she's called me just before (sometimes while) drifting off to sleep. While not everything makes perfect sense given the late hour, I can tell that mentally and emotionally she is sharp and energized. She's begun a difficult work regimen, but I can tell that she's totally engaged with her additional responsibilities.

It's a very surreal moment -- realizing this new stage in life will be really healthy -- while also understanding that it's going to take some creative thinking, because life/marriage/friendships won't look like "Leave It To Beaver." Of course, I knew that a loooong time ago!

Back from the Land Beyond?

Yes, I'm still alive, and much has changed. The Philosophress has come and gone (sadness!) I recall a conversation we had around Christmas time -- something to the effect of "We can't be in California together, because there's just too many bad habits and there's something in the house she's allergic to," and what do we do 5 months later?

We started the week off by spending a couple days on Catalina Island, SoCal's answer to Cinqueterre. I, of course, being the swarthy man that I am, promptly burned my pasty-white skin, which meant that our outdoor activities the rest of the time (kayaking) required a bucket hat, long sleeve collared shirt, and a life vest draped over my legs. H-o-t-t.

The Philosophress has been doing a sweet amount of traveling, with trips to Mexico, China, and Puerto Rico from March - July of this year. I have resolved within myself that I need to get in on that action, so I've revved up the job search again. Leave something in the comments section if you want to review my personal website and give me pointers, and thanks to all of you who've already chimed in.

It's interesting -- I came across some of my self-made business cards from 2004 (before the whole "moving to CA" debacle and when I was trying to find a job in Indy), and the tagline below my name reads

"Integrating written communication and technological acumen to enhance your organization's online and print publications"


It makes my full-time positions the last couple years a bit ironic in retrospect.

So anyway, I've decided that I've had enough fun in CA, so this week I've applied for two university writing/publication positions, and I plan on hitting up Habitat for Humanity, who has several interesting positions available at the ATL HQ (special thanks to Pheidipides for pointing these out).

As I said to The Philosophress earlier, it would be *so* nice to set my vision, set a goal (job in ATL by the summer or early fall), and be able to find the right combination of actions that bring this to fruition.

We (heart) Natural Disasters!

Well I should post some good news here in case any of you are wondering about the health and well-being of The Philosophress and her exploits in China. From her perspective, there is all good news, as she was in Beijing at the time of the earthquake. She called me this morning (nighttime her time), so I didn't even have time to look at news before my fears were allayed.

She sounded rather normal and unharried, so I take that to mean that the catastrophe did not and will not have a demonstrative effect on the remainder of her trip. She is heading to Hong Kong on Tuesday and flies back to Cali on Friday. She said they were driving in a bus and noticed people standing outside a building. At first they assumed people were waiting in line to purchase Olympic tickets, but then realized that *all* the buildings had people standing outside...

I am especially appreciative of the Duke emergency system -- I received a call from a campus employee notifying me that they had contacted the group and verified everyone's safety, finishing by sending me an updated itinerary for the remainder of the trip (to my untrained eyes, nothing has changed, with the possible exception of inter-city departure times). In all, a very peaceful, professional, and reassuring experience in spite of the dreadful and chaotic atmosphere elsewhere in the country.

I feel very blessed to have her living adventure without being in the "eye of the storm" (to borrow from earlier experiences!) It humanizes the situation for me, and I find my heart more invested in following the relief and rescue efforts than I would be if I didn't know someone a few hundred miles from the epicenter.

~~~

On the humorous side, what on EARTH is it with us and natural disasters while traveling?! The Philosophress' superpowers must be especially potent lately, bending the tectonic plates to her will. This is our reinterpretation of the Butterfly Effect: The Philosophress thinks about me halfway across the world, her heart goes pitter-patter, and look what happens...



(I of course do not mean to make light of the tragedy of this situation

Medical Benefits

Early morning conversations are always interesting these days. To wit:


The Philosophress: So apparently BCG pays for all fertility treatments.

Irish Elvis: What does that mean? Like in vitro fertilization and whatnot?

The Philosophress: Yeah, all that stuff. $5 co-pay. Pretty nice.

Irish Elvis: It's like they're admitting, "You'll be traveling too much to have sex with your spouse. Give us a couple of your eggs and we'll take care of the rest."


It's not like I try to be hilarious -- this stuff just comes instinctively.

Hooray for NC

So after returning to California and battling a weeklong case of Timidity, I've had a string of welcome blessings: I've rediscovered an old (but still relevant) book. I had a surprise phone conversation with the Sabellian. And I'm getting a surprise visit this week from someone who's like a brother...and I don't mean like an actual brother, I mean it in the way that black people use it. Which is more meaningful, I think.

Anyway, I began reading the book Wild at Heart for the third time this afternoon (first time was in college, second time was after the ice-cream debacle), and was astounded that it continues to have increasing relevancy. Since the last time I picked it up, The Philosophress and I went hiking in the North Carolina mountains, and the exploration/wilderness metaphors resonate with me so much more now that I have actual life experience to draw upon.

I wrote the following last October after returning from hiking, but never felt it was "complete" or thorough enough to post. However, reading this book again I think will help me to color in some of the spots I've missed. I still can't do the weekend justice, as I think that I'll have to more Adventurous Living in order to do a better job of describing, but at my core I really felt that weekend and experiences were a momentous turning point in my self-discovery.


~~~



What a money weekend. Good times with The Philosophress, and a fantastic time hiking. Gorgeous fall weather too. It's a pretty crazy reminder of just how I need to keep searching and pursuing new things and being in a good place mentally and emotionally, because I'm finding new things to be pretty incredible.

For starters, it was great to be able to travel in comfortable clothes and guitar in hand, rather than an interview suit and the responsibilities of acting professional and put-together. I'm still new at this whole "adventurous" thing, so the great outdoors is still a bit of a pleasant surprise to me. Growing up, it was all about comfort and convenience, so my first true outdoor experience was the Breckenridge ski trip (astute readers will recall that I pretty much sat that one out, as I really had no idea what I was doing). I made a second attempt during Cheap Smokes, and was a bit more engaged, but still wasn't feeling like a "trail veteran" but I think this weekend solidified my view of cabin life and hiking in general -- now that I've become comfortable and accustomed to this outdoor stuff, I think I like it!

Reentry back into the SoCal lifestyle was difficult, as I realize that my adventurous, freewheeling, and creative self that I cultivated in college really doesn't have a place in the hard-driving, nouveau riche, surface atmosphere out here. Folks out here just don't want to hear about how great it is to climb boulders and take pictures of trees (no matter how stunning) because they might scratch their freshly-manicured nails (this goes for both males and females...kidding, sort of).

How A Weekend in the City Cured My Introversion

There's nothing wrong with being an introvert. I should know -- I am one. But there are times when I regress into isolation and somehow justify that as "introversion," which is fundamentally flawed and not at all healthy.

This weekend in Atlanta, I was reminded of the benefits of engaging other people. It's not easy to stay isolated when I'm out of my "routine," meaning I cannot merely eat the same food at the same place every night, and I cannot head to the same self-service check-out line at the grocery store and get back in my own car and drive myself to the same places.

Instead, I must walk, increasing my physical activity. I also pass by other folks on the street, and my sense of manners (to be retitled "Southern gentility" in the next phase of life) will not permit me to avoid eye contact or the obligatory exchange of pleasantries. When someone's job is to open a door or serve a meal, one-word answers are the status quo. But then I remind myself that injecting some humor may make their day a bit more enjoyable, and it gets them out of their routine and reminds us both that we're similar individuals sharing life together.

Or, I must take public transportation. This requires regular interaction with all manner of people, from cab drivers to fellow travelers on public transit -- people from many different walks of life. And then my curiosity gets the better of me, and I start to wonder what their story is. And more often than not, I end up asking. If the conversation continues, that means I must share my story also.

Or, I must explore new things. Being a tourist has some inherent advantages, namely that there are structures in place for the "new folks" and that you (mostly) get a pass if you're "not from around here." This reminds me not to take myself so seriously. It also means that other folks are more apt to answer questions -- to help out the newcomer. And so instead of trying to make it on my own, I ask someone new and unexpected to help me on my journey. In the process, I get a glimpse of their opinions and their perspective.

~~~

So the first challenge is to carry that same spirit with me all the time. That's a bit daunting, as folks out here tend to growl at you if you attempt to engage them. Oh, not the people you already know, but the people you pass by. Life here is something that happens to you, not experiences you make happen.

The second challenge is to ensure that Life in the Big City doesn't become routine in the same way that things are routine right now. I'd like life to be inconvenient *just* enough to require me to engage with people on a regular basis to keep me sharp. I don't know exactly how that will appear, but whether it's apartment living, public transit to/from work, or getting involved in new activities, I want to make sure my existence is far from isolated. Just because I'm an introvert doesn't mean I can't also stand out in a crowd.