bottemless beverages

I truly believe that life is full to bursting. I like to look at optimism not as taking potentially disappointing situations and seeing them as efficacious such as in the old "glass half full" euphemism but more like a bottomless fountain beverage that is never empty and if we are thirsty enough the glass never has to be quite full either. "Drink and be merry for tomorrow we die." Bottoms up.

I don't know, I was talking with Melissa earlier and she said some simple and profound things about feigning happiness to not honestly feel something unfavorable. It caused me to rethink my motivation for positivity. As far as I can tell and have been told I am a generally, or perhaps more sincerely, haphazardly optimistic. If I am merely compensating for feelings that leave holes in me then I indeed create more holes through my self-delusion. But if I do not delude myself and excuse and then suppress poor situations and instead continue throwing back life so that even when I reach the end and the straw starts making sucking sounds I will pound my tumbler on the table and demand my free refill. We don't have to stay at the bottom trying to slurp the watery backwash trapped under the ice cubes. And to take this miserable metaphor one painfully silly (or astoundingly poignant) step further - when the fresh beverage slides across the wooden planks and into our palm we can continue the fellowship and discourse over the bountiful meal with our friends. We can pour into each other.

Good poopin' that was ridiculous but I meant every word.

oceanic

enrich, enrich, ENRICH. Enrich and be enriched. I was going to wait to write this morning until I felt some grand new revelation but after reading my wife's blog I decided that was inspiration enough. She speaks of being peaceful, in love and content. I have dulled my ability to feel these things in the past week. I have let loneliness be my security and I forgot there is no comfort in it. I get more and more eager to hear her voice on the phone and I stare at pictures of her for long stretches of time.

While I was in California with Melissa I was so peaceful, lovely and content. I got to know the full weight of her recovery and I found so much strength in it. I felt stable next to her. I left home and I despaired because even though she will be home soon I can't see it. God has granted me the tremendous grace of being Melissa's husband during this time of her healing and learning. I am just not sure what I am supposed to do with it. I feel the need to take it as love and pour it back into Melissa but since she is still gone and I mostly mope around I don't pour it out anywhere else. And it evaporates. I am getting dry and I need to soak in the ocean.

As it happens, I am devolving. Reverting back to a lackadaisical and also sleepless me has exhausted my will. Thankfully last night was the first and only time this has happened but it shall be the last. I stayed up until five-ish o'clock watching metal music videos and reading years old comments on my myspace. I haven't even visited my myspace in months. This was my first tip off that I was acting suspiciously.

But it wasn't just my behavior. My very feelings went to some strange, familiar, and less me now kind of place. I think was about three o'clock that I was watching some "music video interpretation" of the song "ravage ritual" by the band zao that some sadly misguided kid made for a school project a few years ago and posted on youtube and at this point I realized something very wrong was happening to me. It is hard to explain. I was sitting there actually feeling as though what I was watching was important in some soulless way. And this after three hours of watching OnDemand freezone music videos at my in-laws' house. (bytheway the video for "Airport Surroundings" by Loney, Dear is quite terrific).

I could not conjure a reason convincing enough to actually just go to bed until I was so burnt out and lonely that I nearly wept all alone. Pathetic. It is a glorious truth that yesterday is in the past.

approximate me

I rediscovered the camera for myself today. I made my first craigslist post. I played with a remote control truck that mostly only goes in reverse. I learned that a former mentor of mine is now a #1 best-selling Christian author. It was a very revelatory day for me. For whatever reason, all of these (re)discoveries have left me with an amusing sense of displacement. What do these things say about me? Not much. Hence the amusement. I seem to be accidentally adopting all manner of zen-like attitudes towards every practical thing.

Like I said in my last post about closeness sometimes I require a feeling of knowing I am in proximity to myself. And yet it seems the closer I find myself to myself the tinier I realize me to be. I can't get near enough. Or perhaps I am actually honing in on my true nature or a truer identity within which my quantitativeness amounts to not so much. Thankfully this doesn't render me wallowing in insignificance because at the same time I gain a superior calling than mere self-reflection but significant co-mingling with (oh, coffee maker just beeped announcing it's turning off. Last call for hot, late-night beverages) the rest of creation to partake in each other. To honor each other and honor God. But then again, the times in my life when I have been able to be the most mindful of God and creation were when I did not do so much self-examination which mostly led to disconnection. I am too inward. Time to take me to the streets.

Good pooping, Beck is awesome
brandonpiercegeary