Right or Reconciled

It's hard to look at it so i don't. Instead, i pick up my wallet. The leather is old and worn and its fat size shows it's been a while since i've decluttered it of the receipts, loose change, and unused punch cards that like to make their home there. I rifle through it, sigh, and toss it back onto the desk in front of me.

Maybe i should clean my room a bit more first, i think. Perhaps then my thoughts will be sorted out and i'll know how to reply.

To be fair, it is a difficult situation. It'd been months since i spoke to him last. It was a run in at a movie some mutual friends had invited us to. We sat at different ends of the theatre and didn't speak except to say good-bye but we did shake hands and our smiles didn't seem as strained. I seemed time, as i had hoped, was mending things. Apparently not.

I'd wanted to write to him for some time but not knowing how to voice my desire for reconciliation and fear of his response both kept me silent. Finally, after hiding in the back of my mind for months, the desire was brought to the forefront by something i watched. There was very little special about it - i was just wasting my night watching Netflix - but something about how the various heroes interacted through their adventures and trails reminded me of the many joys and challenges we once shared and the memories we'd made.

Before i knew it, i was in front of my computer looking him up. As i pulled up his Facebook profile, i saw we were no longer friends. That did little to quiet my nervousness. Still, i had to write to him. Despite not knowing how to articulate the feelings of both love and pain that felt so strong, i found the words pouring out.

I wrote of my long felt desire to contact him but the impasse i felt. I wrote of the memories of ours that i cherished, from the late night talks to how we were baptized together. I wrote of how i suck at balancing things in life, particularly relationships, and how i get so consumed in big, impersonal ideals. I apologized that in my attempts to create a better world, i hurt many people, and how much i regretted that he was one of them. I wrote of my desire for reconciliation with him but that even if i was past that place that i believe in him, in his heart, in his love for people and how through that love he'll change many lives. Lastly, i wrote that i love him, and i pray that his life may be blessed.

I was nervous but full of hope as i sent it. Regardless of his response, i thought, i know i've done the right thing in reaching out for reconciliation. A few hours later, his response shattered my peace.

He wrote of how he doubted my words. He wrote that my message was a poorly written attempt to get pity and extend my social influence. He did pity me, but not because he believed what i wrote. He pitied me because i act selfishly and hurt people to build my own kingdom. He wrote of his "admiration" for my ability to manipulate and hurt people yet still be loved by the masses. He wrote of his prayers to God to help him forgive me for the pain i'd caused him. He wrote of the pain in seeing my transformation from a man he admired into a selfish, manipulative man and how he can't be aligned with someone like that. He wrote that he hopes one day i'll realize what i've become and have a change of heart.

For days i've held my response as two sides of me wrestle over the direction to take. The logical side of me sees the humility in my first message. I put aside the many destructive things he'd done to me and offered a fresh start. I was gracious and he responded with insults. My mind creates walls to defend myself and arrows to pierce him, showing him his faults. On and on it goes until it's no longer an attempt at peace, but rather, a war to prove who's right.

Another side of me wants to agree with him, to let him be right if it means healing might come. I should let go of my rights, forget about what he's done, and just apologize. He's hurt but not a fool. There's truth behind his words. I should find it so that i can become a better man.

I heard a story once, told by an old Native American to his grandson. "There are two wolves within every one of us," the old man began, "one which is dark; full of hate, anger, greed, arrogance, and envy. The other is light; full of love, compassion, peace, joy and wisdom. The two wolves are always fighting one another, contending for supremacy. The boy thought about it intently before he turned to his grandfather and asked, "Which wolf wins?" "The one we feed," he replied.

As i sit here, ready to write my response, i feel those two wolves contending within me. I could argue and prove him wrong. I could cut him down and prove myself blameless. But i'm not. Neither of us are. Proving him wrong won't help him, or me, become a better man. So easily our emotions make us view things as black or white, men as either angels or demons. But we're not angels, nor are we demons. We're human, flawed and beautiful, and though we make mistakes, our lives contain glory.

I know which wolf i want to win. I'll just have to feed him my ego.

Haunted

I listen as the engine starts then fades and they drive away. I sink back into my chair and open the browser back to where i left it. My eyes skim picture after picture of bizarre shirts as i scroll down the page. A randomly shuffled song in iTunes drones on in the background.

This is, essentially, what i've spent my day doing. Wasting time. It's mind numbingly boring but that's the point. If yesterday left me paralyzed by passion, today i'll avoid that by, well, doing nothing. I know, it's dumb and self defeating. But this numbness is better than what engulfed me yesterday. At least this way there's no pain of guilt or regret or failed hopes.

I continue scrolling then skip to another page. Images of retro jackets appear and a double breasted military coat catches my eye. Wow, i think, who knew Korean fashion was so interesting?

Yes, it's pathetic that i'm still here, hoping that if i avoid the thoughts and emotions for long enough, they'll stay dormant. Yet even as i write of them a pain stabs at my heart as though suddenly they remember their task to torment me.

My mind flashes back 24 hours.

My workout was quickly falling apart. I don't know if it was the lyrics that played on my workout playlist or if my core desires had finally just caught up with me. Unable to finish the push up, i collapse to the floor. I curl into a ball as if that will somehow protect me from the thoughts that flood through my mind.

"Don't wanna waste my life, life, life. Don't wanna waste my life..."

Lecrae continues to play from my computer. It's as though he's calling me out for having sunk so low, for having given up the fight.

"Yeah, well how the hell do i do that?" i shout back to Lecrae, to my thoughts, to everything. "I tried everything i could but i still failed. I failed, okay? Now let me just stay here."

But if anything, they intensify.

I realize that i'm now on my bed and my chair has been thrown across the room. I guess i must have done that. Songs continue to play and each one seems to bring with it a snapshot of the world as it should be. They're all different, some large, some small, but each so personal and important.

I think of my friends, my beautiful friends whose lives i was able to do so little for. I see the systems which trap them and the lies they believe. I so badly wanted to see them fully alive, to see them free from the dead, unquestioning mindset which seems to entomb so many of them.

I think of everything Ekklesia could have become but didn't. Was it my fault or theirs that it ended as little more than a social club? We had started so brilliantly. No one who showed up had ever encountered anything like it. I truly thought we could change our city, that we could free ourselves.

I think of the few glimpses of community which i've seen and the stories i've heard, yet was unable to create for myself and those around me. We all said it was a better way of life, but we were all to young and immature and selfish for it to be sustained.

I think of the society in which i live, so unimaginatively obsessed with one set way of doing life: stress and work to get good grades in high school, so You can stress and work and get into a good college, so You can stress and work and get an okay job, so you can get a house that's bigger than You need so You can buy lots of things to insulate Yourself from the fact that You've wasted Your life. Maybe if You're lucky, You can retire and have a few years to vacation and buy cheap souvenirs before You die.

And still the thoughts come.

"Damn it! What do You want? I fought for those things. I gave everything i had but i still failed. I was too weak, people were lazy and selfish, no one cared about my ideas, it didn't matter in the end. I failed! I get it!"

Yet they keep whispering, like they're trying to wake up my heart with visions i once loved, but i can't let that part of me wake. To have such ambition but to always feel so helpless to see it manifest is agony. Yes, i've been living within my bounds but at least my heart was safe.

Eventually, at long last, i get busy and distract myself. I push the down thoughts and fill my mind with a hundred different things. Anything to numb that dangerous part of me. The day flows by...

Today, Two friends invited me to hang out and i turned them both down. It's not that i was busy but i couldn't help but wonder what's the point? Go and make small talk, waste time, as the world around us dies. I know that's how we all act, we poor, blind, selfish souls, and i know i can't convince anyone to do otherwise. We have our ways. Why rock the boat? True, perhaps life is unchangingly this way, but don't expect to see me taking part in its emptiness.

I'm too busy searching for some solace from these damned beautiful visions.

Illumination

It's amazing, really, how certain settings seem to carry with them a depth of beauty and worth that suddenly makes whatever is taking place feel important as well. This is why i love sunsets, old buildings, and of course, the stars.

That's where i found myself tonight. The last rays of sunlight danced away as we made our way up the mountain, slowly taking the winding dirt road. We weren't in a hurry to get anywhere. It was the setting itself for which we came. Now, having parked the car a few miles back, we had gone on foot, stopping here and there to look either at the city below or the stars above.

They're brilliant tonight, even with the moon as bright as it is. Just being here, looking at them, is enough. It's not that their beauty adds value to us or what we're doing but rather stands as a reminder of the deep, intrinsic worth we already hold inside.

At long last, i look away from the stars and answer Brandon's question.

"I don't know why things began to change. After stepping out of it all, things in my heart slowly began to heal and regrow. I can't point to what caused it."

Brandon didn't respond immediately, but i knew he was listening to every word.

I've spent the past hour and a half (if not longer) telling him my story. If You've never met him, You're missing out. With his quick, full bellied laugh and deep, knowing eyes, he has what seems to be the perfect balance of careless joy yet quiet wisdom and sincerity.

I've told many people my story, but rarely in such depth. There was something about the way he listened that made me feel as though the story i was telling, the story i was living, mattered and mattered deeply. Like the stars, being there with someone who cared about all the details of what i did and why i did it and why i think the way i think, it reminded me that my life was important. That it still is important.

We spent the rest of the evening walking back to the car then driving down to Monument. Somewhere along the way, between the bumps of the divots and the curves of the winding road, the conversation turned to Brandon. As he spoke of his life, he told me not only of his triumphs, but of many of his struggles and failures.

We in society possess such a fear of letting our flaws come to light. I don't know whether it's instinctual or if we pick it up along the way as we grow, but i know of few things we will do more to avoid. We have fears, imagined and real, about how others will respond if they found out the truth of our humanity. Yet, contrary to this, i found that hearing of his flaws only furthered my appreciation for Brandon. It's as though, in seeing he was real, i knew that i could trust the good i saw in him.

How i wish that more of my social interactions were like this. Our time had depth and meaning to it. It was honest and real and the good i took from it seemed tangible. Our goal wasn't to impress the other with a polished, plastic version of our self, nor to convince them that we're something other than the man we are.

In bringing light to our complete, true selves, it wasn't our flaws, but rather our glory, that was illuminated.

The Battle For Myself

The irony of hating the hole You're in
but not wanting to leave.

Today found me in quite the dismal hole. I was happy to stay there.

It's an ironic condition but one i find myself in often enough to make one question my rational thinking abilities. I'll find myself beset by some negative emotion. Anger. Depression. Fear. It could be any of these or more. Rather than fighting it, it's as if the different parts of my heart welcome the enemy, inviting it to stay. It takes root and feeds upon itself, growing in anguish, but not wanting to be resolved.

So it was today. As the day grew, i found myself becoming upset and lonely, almost without reason. The solution would seem to be to put myself around others. But the command post of logic in my mind seemed to have been overtaken and was now run by this invading force of negativity. My skills of reasoning were being used to convince me of the uselessness of doing those things which might help cure me of this sudden malady.

Why hang out with others? They don't really like You. You're better of by Yourself.

My desire to seek out the company of others began to wither and i isolate myself even more, which only furthers the icy grip loneliness has on me. I turn to passion, hoping to find aid in this contest but soon realize that it too has been commandeered.

Yeah, You could fight this feeling... But do You really want to? You're exhausted. It's not worth the effort. Just stay here.

Dang. Now i'm losing the fight. Any hopes i hold of fending of this usurpation of my self are quickly evaporating. I make one last appeal to my will to get me out of here.

Even if You could, You'd just be faking it. This is how You feel. You don't want to be insincere, do You?

A house divided against itself cannot stand and so, with my foundations now no longer my own, i fall. I spend the rest of the day caged within a man i hate yet cannot seem to control. I'm no longer myself, but rather what seems to be some Frankensteinian combination of all those dark corners inside me which i abhor. I am an impatient creature, angry and alone. The doors of this prison in which i sit are unlocked and open, yet my feet refuse to obey or budge. So i stay in this state.

Thank God for those angels of light which come to us in the form of our friends.

You might think my description melodramatic but that is how it felt. I've no doubt i would have stayed in that condition all day had a friend not intervened.

She called me up and as we spoke, her words reminded my faculties of their allegiance. By the time she hung up, my heart was making a good effort of revolting against its usurpers and restoring me to myself. And then she showed up at my house.

"I'm kidnapping You," she told me.

I made a few excuses but she would have none of it.

"I don't care how You look, smell, or feel. Let's go!"

What happened next was redemption. The day which started out as a dark cloud ended as a brilliant night, full of adventure and laughter. We did Chinese fire drills, climbed trees, jumped on rocks overlooking scenic nightscapes, drove past monolithic rock formations as we wound our way through Garden of the Gods. We parked there and she told me the names of each constellation i pointed to.

The Cepheus Constellation

"That one's Cepheus, the King," she says pointing at a group of stars which looked like someone mashed a square and a W together. I'll give it to the ancient Greeks. They definitely had vivid imaginations.

Our adventures continued, full of memories i'll long cherish, until at last she dropped me back home close to midnight. I felt so alive and content as we said our short goodbye. After our time together, i felt so much closer to being the man i want to be. For this, and so much more, i love her.

I wish i could validate the time You spent reading this by leaving You with some insight or life lesson. If any is to be had, it alludes me. All i know is that i am a better man when i'm near those who love me. It's not an easy process for them, i'm sure, but i thank God for the few that choose to fight for me despite my many flaws.

Perhaps we need each other to be fully ourselves.

Integrity vs Paychecks

A literal "line in the sand"

I'm avoiding thinking about it.

Slouched in front of my computer, i open another tab and check my email. Yep, the same spammy emails are still there from when i checked five minutes ago. My phone vibrates and i look down to see a text from a friend returned from university asking to hang out. As i pick up my phone and read the message, i'm careful to avoid glancing at one particular text.

It's from my boss, asking for the hours i worked today. Easy enough, You think. Sounds routine; pretty straightforward. Definitely not worth blogging about, right? To understand my dilemma, let's rewind 12 hours.

I pull into the Hooters parking lot at 8:31, a minute late. As i jump out of the car i realize that i won't be needing the many layers i've piled on. I'll be outside most of today washing windows but although it's December, the sun is shining at a good 45 degrees. I walk over to a parked SUV and say hello to my manager (we'll call him Rick) as i give him a hand unloading our supplies. Due to the nature of our profession (cleaning windows with water), it's impossible to work when it's below freezing and with the recent cold weather, it's been two or three weeks since i've worked with him. Still, Rick greets me with his easy laugh and we set to work.

Despite my time away, window washing is a fairly simple process (any surprises there?) and i soon find my mind wandering as my hands set to work. I was only hired a month ago by our boss (we'll call him Josh) but i've really taken to it. It's a lot more enjoyable than my house cleaning jobs and it feels great walking around outside for most of my day. Rick and Josh are a mixed bag (as are all human beings) but if You take away Josh's micromanaging, money hungry habits and Rick's constant complaining about said tendencies, they're nice people to work with.

We make quick work of the windows and at 9:45 Rick and i load back into the car.

"We'll say You got here at 8 and we worked until 10, sound good?"

"Yeah, sure thing," i respond, not really thinking about it. I showed up at 8:30 but if my manager wants to give me the extra bit of pay, that's cool, right?

We get on the highway and head up to Monument for another clean. Rick takes the burden of conversation upon himself and spends the next 15 minutes complaining about how under compensated he is for his work.

"I'm just saying, i do a house, it takes 3 hours, they pay us 180 but i only ever see 45 of that."

At 42, Rick is a body building, gym managing, cool sunglass wearing kind of guy who's done it all, is very friendly, and has an air of "hard working cool" to him. He has the easygoing feel of that unmarried uncle that takes You out driving in his truck and sneaks You candy when You're a kid. Whether it's for those reasons, the fatherless child in me looking for an authority figure to trust, or some other, i find myself wanting to agree with what he has to say. So i do.

"Doesn't sound fair to me."

My input received, he continues talking until we arrive at the house we're schedule to clean. Saving You the grueling details, they weren't home and we spend the rest of the day driving from one business to the next. At each one, Rick would slightly alter the exact time we arrived and departed, making it seem as though we were there longer.

"You know, he doesn't pay for drive time? It's ridiculous, i'm telling You. It really cuts into our pay."

"Actually," i reply sheepishly, "i get paid from when i show up to when we finish, drive time included."

This tidbit understandably upsets Rick, launching him on another long rant about Josh's bad business setup.

"We're making the guy hundreds of dollars while he sits at home. You think he'd be willing to pay us more than just a sliver of that. I fudge the number just so we're not getting ripped off for our time."

"Mmm," i intelligently respond. I've vowed to go a year endeavoring to live honestly and not to tell a single lie. This is certainly blurring lines and i don't know what to say. Not only is Rick my manager, he's also a nice guy. While he's not particularly uplifting, he's not a guy i want to let down. I see the logic behind everything he's saying and i sympathize with him. He always takes the hardest work upon himself and wants to fudge the numbers for my sake as well as his. Still, while my mind can agree with that, it still goes against my convictions. I just don't know how big of a deal it is.

He drops me off at my car at 2:45.

"Let's sat that i dropped You back off at 3:30," he says. "That way, including the half hour lunch break, You'll have a solid 7 hours of pay."

I'm not sure what to say. I'm exhausted, i'm feeling sick, and i don't want to argue. I swallow the unpleasant taste of my convictions and mumble an agreement before getting into my car and heading home. Once inside, i make it up the stairs and dump my things on the floor. Laying in bed, i'm asleep in seconds. An hour later, i awake to find a text from my boss, asking me for my hours.

So here i am, back at my conundrum. What do i tell my boss; what i actually worked or how long my manager said i worked? If what i say is less than what Rick says, he'll be in trouble. He's trying to help us both out and  the difference will hardly put a dent into what we've earned our boss. If i bring it up with my boss, it will feel like i'm screwing Rick after he tried to help me. How much does it matter?

As i write this, i feel the warmth coming from the fireplace as my friend and housemate Garrett carefully places another log in. His accuracy would make any scout master proud. We've been here a good two hours talking about our lives and the questions we struggle with. His work finished, Garrett turns back to me.

"Where does it end? If You cross the line once, they'll ask You to again. It's not about this or that. It's about who You are. You can loose a job and find another one, but it's hard to find Yourself after You let who You are slip away."

He's right. Bringing this up with Josh won't be easy. Having to see Rick afterwards will be even more difficult. But it's the right thing to do. It's my line in the sand, something that is core to who i am. I'm willing to lose a job if it means keeping my integrity. That's who i am.

Honesty wins.

All That's Left

The path of life has led me through many

What my mind might have looked like

experiences in these past hours. There are many things i've encountered and many thoughts which have taken root within my mind. But the day has left me with no more energy with which to build. I am overwhelmed.

So as my day ends, instead of putting pen to paper (or more literally, fingers to keyboard) i sit with my guitar and let everything pour out into music. Thoughts turn into chords, fears into rhythms, as i journal with melodies.

Tonight, my music is my honesty.

Desperate To Believe Them

"It was good to see You, Dallas."

The words were so simple yet as i step into my car i can't help but to question them. Such a deep part of me wants to believe them, wants to think that they really were as happy to see me as i was to see them.

But Dallas, that inner voice whispers, You know You can't trust them. They're just like the rest of the Springs Church crowd. Yeah, they seemed to welcome You when You were new and cool but they were pretty quick to turn and throw You out once that faded.

I hate the thought but there is some truth to it.

"I can't be sure it was them," i think back. "I never found out who all spread the rumors about me."

Come on, Dallas. The whole church was on board. You've dropped by a few times since then and You never feel welcome. You sit by Yourself every time, forgotten or ignored by those so-call friends. Of course they were polite when they ran into You tonight. It's not like they're going to show their disgust for You to Your face.

That's the problem. I never knew who ruined my reputation. All i know is one month i'm making new friends and the next i no longer feel like a part of the them. What's more, the gal i love who's half a world away is hearing stories of things i never did, nearly ruining any chance of us even having a friendship. My attempts to track the rumors to their origins so as to shed some clarity leads me nowhere, leaving me to distrust the whole faceless mass of a social group that gave birth to them.

After work yesterday, i had dropped by Heaven on Earth (aka Chick Fil-a) and ran into them. They invited me to eat with the three of them and a good time was had by all. Or so i would like to think. Still, i've the nagging thought that they were just politely putting up with me. 

I didn't know what they thought of me. Maybe from their standpoint i had abandoned them. Right around the time my gal left for the other side of the planet, i had a spiritual and social falling out and stopped attending most things that involved human beings. It could have seemed like as soon as the girl i liked left, my interest in them disappeared. 

So i kept trying to hammer it in. "I'm really happy we're all here." "It's really good being with You guys." "This reminds me of the time we..." 

After each time they would respond in the way You'd imagine. 

"Yeah, of course, Dallas."

"I agree."

But their replies only furthered to widen the ravine of doubt that separated us. I so wanted them to know how much it mattered that i was with them now. Even with my doubt, the feeling of being a part of their group felt like a like a ray sunshine after a cold winter.

I want to know that the sunshine is real. I want to break down and apologize for every perceived wrong i might have committed. I want them to know that they really do matter to me and i want to know if i matter to them.

Maybe it shouldn't matter to me. If i was confident in myself, perhaps what they think shouldn't phase me. But it does. I know better than they do the true wrongs i've done. Lord knows my mind reminds me of the many reasons they have to dislike me.

Maybe it's a plea for honesty, for the solid ground of truth. Or maybe it's just the lonely part of me, begging for someone to see something good in me and to genuinely love me for it. Either way, i'm in my car leaving now and my desire for clarity is still agonizingly unmet.

Until we learn to drop the facade of pleasantries and confront one another's imperfections in loving honesty, my doubts aren't likely to go away.

The Villain Inside

Perhaps the most heroic thing we can do, is to face the villain inside of us.

I’m driving away from a conversation with someone who is so very dear to me, knowing just how deeply i’ve hurt her. My friend is wonderful, even on her bad days she is such a bright, joyful light to be around. And i would sacrifice my own comfort to shield her from pain.

But tonight, i’m the one causing her it.

There’s no pretty way to say it. In many ways, i’ve used her over the past few months. She was there in my life when i felt unloved and abandoned by those who really mattered to me. She filled the lonely, hurt parts of me. And so even though i didn’t love her, i tried to believe that i did.

It wasn’t always fake. In the beginning there was a part of our relationship that had the potential to turn into something deeper. But sometime in between the first and second time we called our unofficial relationship off, i realized that i was just being selfish. I was letting her believe our relationship might go somewhere some day and in the mean time it was nice to have someone to share my heart and cuddle with.

I knew for a while that i needed to call things off but i didn’t. There are so few people who make me feel loved, people i feel i can be myself around, and i didn’t want to lose that. I also liked having someone to hug. And, i really, really didn’t want to hurt her. I had known for some time that when i told her the truth, a part of her would break. So i kept delaying the inevitable, looking for a way to soften the blow. It didn’t seem fair for her to suffer for faults that were mine. Yet, in trying to hide the hard truth from her, i only let the hooks of deceit sink deeper in.

But not any more. I open up, letting her see the selfish, weak, even villainous side of me. I like someone else, we’ll never be in a long term relationship, my heart isn’t in this. It was hard to say those things to her, sitting there in my car tonight, and i know it was even harder for her to hear them. But i won’t try to manipulate her or anyone else into liking me by carefully selecting those truths that i know they’ll like and hiding the rest from them. Whatever else can be said, i believe all persons deserve honesty.

And so finally the truth came out, not in easy bits and pieces that could be watered down or covered up, but all at once, to paint a picture neither of us could ignore. The romantic side of our relationship has to die. I at least, if not both of us, have been foolish, weak, and selfish. Her forced smile and little laugh hurt more than any blow could have, as she thanked me and left me alone to face myself.

As i drive away, feeling such shame and sorrow, there is another feeling, somewhere deep beneath it all. The truth that was unspoken, locked inside and haunting me, has now been brought into the light. Despite the pain, i feel free.