2.53: Solar, Baby

I had a really melodramatic post planned about how the beam–the eclipse–bisects my life, separating the man I was from the man I am and blah blah blah, but that isn’t true. It is definitely an example of where I am in life vs. where I want to be. I’m not anywhere along the path as I should be. I’m not celebrating the event with friends, because I don’t really have people in proximity who care about it as I do. I am not going to a public viewing because I don’t particularly care to be around people I don’t know. I am not going to a work viewing because that place doesn’t feel like home or like a safe space anymore.

I will say this: The big moments are when you pause to take stock of where you are at and consider how you feel about your place in the world. This morning I woke up to a large and empty house and recognized that I wanted neither. The space only matters when you have voices to fill it.

I’m glad the eclipse gives me a moment to take stock of the now and consider what I’m looking for the next time such an event comes around. Further it gets me thinking about what events do matter and readying myself to plan for them.

 

Some Thoughts:

  1. I am not centered. There really is no way to avoid it. I lack a center and as a result there is nothing that really grounds me. I tried to make it my partner, but that really isn’t fair to her for me to build everything around her when she too is in flux. I ought to build everything around writing, but something holds me back from that as well.
  2. So it begins. The semester starts the day of the eclipse. That has to mean something. Or not.
  3. Still waking up in pain every morning. The pain extends from my neck down my back. I’m going to try new pillows to see if that helps.

2.52: The Back Blog

There are moments in your life when you see all the choices you’ve made laid out for you, like the decision tree in a Choose Your Own Adventure book. Each step builds on the last leading you, inexorably, towards dragging your body across the kitchen floor at 1 AM on a Sunday morning. For me the chain of events started not with a birth but with the first back drama. I cast my memories back to the day, a few years ago, when my back was out and my partner was there to help me heal. Fast forward and my partner is on her own journey along the beam awaiting the coming eclipse and I am alone and in pain on the carpet. Every step from A to B was the result of my own actions and serve as a real wake up call to remind me that choices have lasting consequences and neglect can ultimately destroy everything you are trying to become.

I’ve long been the sort of person who fails to put on bug spray because mosquitos don’t seem like a big deal out here, only to be the fool scratching up and down his legs a day later. That is to say I am the worst boy scout ever. Though it is totally within my means to be prepared, I often approach life with the thoughtlessness that leaves me both clearly prepared and unable to act on the preparedness.

I bought a backboard specifically to help me stretch out my back and get it (and me) in better shape. I used it roughly a dozen times before it became a pants rack. Prepared, but failed to execute on the preparedness.

I bought and studied over 50 books on the writing process only to use nothing from them in the actual teaching of writing.

I can name half a dozen aspects of my life in which this is true–especially in love. It all points back to an infernal laziness or lack of will to execute anything in the mid term. I do well short term. I fail at mid term. In the long term, it adds up to an ultimate fail, which is why I found myself on the floor alone at 1 AM writhing in pain. It is where I stayed until 4 AM when I managed to get up and get myself to bed. I’m up again now and basically mobile. The pain is still there, as is the understanding of why it is. That’s what this blog is about after all.

2.51. Reflections on a Saturday Morning

I can count on one hand the number of Saturdays I have till football. That means there are only a handful of days I get to spend with my kids that aren’t dominated by sports. In that time I desire to go to the lake and down to the caves, really putting in some quality outdoor time. I haven’t scheduled any of this out or even figured how to make it a reality, but it is what I want to do. I want to strike a balance where it isn’t always rush rush rush in our lives. This week taught me that too much of something can be a real problem. Right now I have a kid who has two practices a day three days a week and practice at least once a day m-f. This is how it is for him through October. Did I mention he’s just moved into middle school and is learning to engage academically?

Kids aside, I am entering a year where I finally have a schedule that is conducive to life outside of work. Ideally, I can work from home multiple days or spend a wealth of time with my partner. Ideally doesn’t always work out for us, but that remains to be seen. Regardless, I made a decision recently that the universe can very much kiss my grits. In a lot of ways.  In regards to this it confirms that I am going to stand by this relationship and do everything in my power to make it work (whatever it is).

I think that about covers it. I didn’t mention writing because there isn’t anything to mention yet. There will be soon enough…

 

Some Thoughts:

  1. The Giant beyblade stadium: not a hit. The metal surface doesn’t perform nearly as well as the plexiglass. This leads to slower battles and less joy. I feel like the next step is to get a coating to spray on the stadium to make it smooth. I do not know such a thing exists, so in the meanwhile we have what we have.

2.50. Some Thoughts

I’ve had a lot going on this week and have run myself fairly ragged. There is a sickness going around the kids’ school and they brought that stuff home. In addition I’ve been trying to strike a fine balance between me time and everything else. It has resulted in forgetting to do a number of things… Such as being able to think in terms longer than…

Some Thoughts:

  1. In a classic ‘What did I just get myself into?’ moment I find my mid kid playing mid-school soccer m-th and club football t, th, F. In other words, the t/th practices completely overlap. This is going to be a problem since I coach @ 5:30 on T/Th and cannot begin to pick him up. So, I need to find him daily rides home from practice and tell his coaches he is going to miss half a practice every week.
  2. Speaking of practice, I was supposed to bring another kid to practice and just realized I did not do that yesterday… I think he missed it. I really think he missed practice on account of me.
  3. This is proof that this being a dad thing is overwhelming me. Just a little…
  4. So now I am trying to devise a schedule where I don’t go insane as a single dad. So far, not good.
  5. In other thoughts, the Defenders dropped on Netflix last night. I stayed up to watch the first episode and was, well, kinda disappointed. The combo story has all the positives of the shows I enjoy and all the negatives of the ones that suck, only the suck is leaking into the non-suck in a very obvious way. I thought the infection might go the other way. It hasn’t

2.49: Worlds within Worlds

The more I study and write about virtual realities, the more I realize the concept is not much different than social realities. While we of the physical space occupy the same world, that world looks and behaves very differently based on social circles and economic class. What we do and how we view the concept of ‘living’ shifts as you move through the various social circles. This applies not only to what we do in life but how we use our leisure time, and that leisure tends to serve as a connection point between the worlds, furthering the illusion that we exist in the same space at all.

Take the example of a football game. There are many levels to the sport overall and even to the naming of the game. For example, if I say football in Spain, I’m talking about the beautiful game, known here as soccer. However, if we are speaking the same language and are even at the same football game, the experience shifts based on the socio-economic world you live in. These delineation are clearly outlined on your ticket stub. For those living within the wold of NFL teams and players, you are likely on the field or in a protected skybox where the way you interact with the game is separate from the various, financially delineated ways in which the crowd interacts with the game. If you are a worker you are experiencing the game differently again. While all of these people are in the same stadium, the way they view that environment (and thusly the way others view them) shifts from social circle to social circle. This is identical to the virtual realms–especially in terms of MMORPG where you do have these huge gathering halls and the people in the spaces have various roles and as such view the space in different ways. Technically, they are in the same space, but the reality of that space is very different.

I’ve become more and more aware of this through interacting with parents at morning and afternoon pickup. We all drop our kids off at the same place–an intersection of our realities–but afterwards we fall back into very different lives. The gathering halls of the bus stop and the virtual adventuring halls are very much the same beast.

Some Thoughts:

  1. Starting to stash away cash for a VR rig for the kids. This blog is brought to you by Talislegger’s heedless ambition for tech…
  2. I’m falling back into another world too. The world of productivity.

2.48. Reflections on a Presidency

I am not a fan of the way our POTUS is running things, but I understand. Lets consider for a second who the man is: He is a relic of a bygone era who truly believes that America’s best times were when there was a clear sense of racial division and hierarchy. He is a man who is fiercely loyal to those who support him the most, and someone who will fight tooth and nail to defend his self-inflicted machismo and idealism. Sadly he is also someone fighting for a nation that does not exist and is unwilling to recognize the reality of what does exist. This is only highlighted by his inability to see alt-right as inherently bad vs. defined by it. If defined by anything it is defined by his ad hoc creation of the alt-left boogie man and dogged belief in an idea of a leftism that doesn’t really exist.

In other words, he is a man that sees antifa as a name of a terrorist organization vs. the idea of anti-facism being something that we should all be rallying behind. He isn’t the leader we need. However, he is the leader we have and that isn’t going to change for a while. So, what do we do while he is here?

I’d say the more central-thinking individuals we turn away from his stink the better. There is a certain amount of comfort in the ideas of white oppression. It is a convenient excuse for those who have no other solid foundation for why things are bad in their lives. It is a message that (like most republican rhetoric) targets a poor and disenfranchised audience that wants to believe they have the same chance as any other hard worker to become a billionaire. These are the people who see Trump as a ‘common man’ or ‘working class leader’ while the reality is that he comes from extreme wealth and only ever pays lipservice to their needs. What happened with his pledge to bring back coal is case and point of that.

Some Thoughts:

  1. Those were just some anti-Trump thoughts swirling around in my brain that needed to find an outlet. I am constantly amazed at how much a presidency reflects where the nation thinks it is at. Obama’s presidency marked the ‘end of American racism’ while Trump’s marks the ‘normalization of white rage.’ Both are exaggerations.
  2. The beam approaches. Less than a week now.

2.47. Ka, The Beam, and Seeing Where You Are

Funny how the random links that appear at the bottom of articles can sometimes be the path to enlightenment. This one came courtesy of the cancer center website, which appeared (for some strange reason) at the bottom of a digital spy article about the upcoming season of The Defenders. The article focused on the five forms of intimacy. I perked up, because I have a predilection towards one form of intimacy, meaning I could be missing out on 80% of the loving! Turns out, I’m not entirely. However, I was missing out on a wealth of emotional understanding.

The five forms, according to the article, are emotional, intellectual, experiential, spiritual, and of course, sexual. Physical touch is one of my two primary love languages, thus the sexual form of intimacy is prominent. What really caught my eye here though were the twin headlights of spiritual and intellectual intimacy. Having a sense of a connection beyond the physical always means something to me. Soon we will be under the beam of a full eclipse, and I won’t be with my partner at that moment. That is a reflection of spiritual separation, Ka pulling us in different directions. That matters. By understanding that I recognize now how much the spiritual matters in building a loving and lasting partnership. I don’t believe I’ve ever had that in a long term relationship.

The intellectual intimacy is one I often overlook. The sharing of ideas and the trust to be open and honest about one’s intellectual passions is a rare gift. I share that and we develop ideas together. This is a vital form of intimacy that I believe I have taken for granted. What is seen cannot be unseen, and that is a good thing.

So, there are five areas to work on in intimacy. Time I got to work.

2.46: Reflections on a Monday Morning

Today marks the start of the 2017 fall work semester for me. A year ago today I was half-burned out and uncertain about the work world I’d helped to create. Two weeks later I was done with all thoughts of professional leadership at that college. I’d discovered what that world was actually about and decided–openly–to shift focus back to becoming a better teacher. The results were mixed. I improved in some areas and drastically fell off in others. I lost all sense of community within the college and became a ghost of my social and often professional self.

For all intents and purposes, this is my New Year’s Day. Everything for the past few months has been summer break-styled downtime, trips to the beach, and mental preparation. This is the fall of my content. I am determined to reach the level teaching ability I ascribe to. Furthermore, I recognize that teaching at the college level is only one leg of my true work. I am a writer first. What I always am teaching is how students can recognize and thus tell their own story. Therefore it is important that I recognize and tell my own. I am dedicated to writing an original novel over the course of the school year. This is not, as with past dedications, a pie in the sky idea. This is tied to classwork, scheduling, and how I expect to lead my life moving forward.

One of the scariest truths of my life is that I now expect to die. I don’t know when it is going to happen. I hope I live well into my eighties. Still there are nights that I am shook awake by the concept that I will one day close my eyes forever. When that moment comes and I am faced with the idea of what life I lived, I don’t want that fleeting forever to be filled with regret. I want to die empty. I want to die knowing I poured everything I had into life. I want to feel like the ideas that fill my head are left to serve as my legacy to those I love and leave.

I don’t mean to be so morbid, but the fundamental truth of life is that we are given a moment to explore, to love, and to make things happen. The person we face in the end is the one we faced all along–our own worst critic–ourselves. I can trace back all of the failures in my life to one person: me. I was always athletic enough, and a good enough writer, and smart enough to accomplish anything I wanted to. Though bothered–even hampered at times–by racism, it never stopped me from being able to achieve whatever I wanted. The only obstacle I’ve ever faced in my life is my inability to follow through. I cannot expect to defeat it all at once, but I can sure as hell give it all I have this semester.

2.44. A Writer’s Woe

I broke a promise to my writing crew. I promised to develop a new page of writing this week and, blog not withstanding, I did not. This betrayal is fairly typical of my writing slump. I don’t call it writer’s block because I’m not blocked. I’m simply not putting butt in chair to get the work done. As a result the work piles up and becomes this mountain that I need to climb before the semester starts. Let me be clear: The semester starts in 10 days. You heard of 90 days to a novel? This is 10 days to an outline.

In order to further the motivation for what needs doing, I am am going to be using the blog to publish some of that work. I need to create an outline in order to give my students a current sample of work that can be used as an example of the expectations of the class. I can continue driving through the process once class starts, but when I hand out the notebooks and everything on day one I need to be ready with a solid amount of the work in order to get them going and encourage them that the work is doable. Heck, it ought to be encouragement for me to finish the project.

Some Thoughts:

  1. The website format is still… up in the air.
  2. The Giants dropped a preseason game that highlighted the weaknesses of the O-line. At the same time I was encouraged by the speed and play of their rookie right tackle. My team is in a position to be amazing this year if that line can hold for a split second longer.
  3. I did this entire blog with the coffee sitting in the coffee maker. Blasphemy.

2.43: Reflections on a Friday Morning

My routine went to hell this morning. It fell apart when I woke up 20 minutes before my youngest needed to be on the school bus. Of course, he wasn’t trying to move around fast that early in the morning. We made it, but it broke the routine. Breaking such things is bad for habit. That’s why I wind up here, writing about what went wrong.

It goes back to making smart choices. I chose to snooze that morning alarm, roll back over when I initially woke up on my own around 4:30. My partner has this humorous print on her hallway wall chronicling the normal wake up times of famous authors. I thought of it as I shut my eyes. Again, choice. Not that waking up that early does anything magical. In truth your body finds its own circadian rhythm (I constantly thank spell check for allowing me to spell that word). Mine bounces in and out of sequence, occasionally shifting as far as two hours. This morning it trended upward towards midnight, and I should’ve made the choice to listen. Instead I slept and now I am all kinds of fatigued.

Which is why Ka lends us coffee.

 

Some Thoughts:

  1. Still working on the right theme for the page. This one, Adamos Pro, looked solid in theory. In practice it needs work.
  2. I think this might work a lot better for 2626east.
  3. Built a new site: houseofbeys.com. It is wonderfully fun. The site chronicles the in-house beyblade burst league. It even has a schedule of matches! Life is good.
  4. Life is love.