A Random Conversation

So, I had a random conversation with this guy the other day. In fact, it was not just random, it was quite intentional. The guy happened to be Tobymac. I am not a huge Tobymac fan, as I prefer metal/metalcore/post-core/screamo/etc. I have seen him several times in concert, and despite being completely not in my genre, he puts on a very good show.

I ran into him (or rather, his entourage) in Nashville as I got stuck behind them boarding a plane for Dallas. (all the cool kids go to Texas, didn't ya know?) I asked them what band they were with, because they took forever to check in, and they said 'Tobymac.' I was like, oh. how about that. At least I recognize the name/artist.

Then a thought hatched itself in my mind. I could hunt him down and ask him about his thoughts on my opinions on the Christian music scene. Oh yah. Score. I had no illusions about one-upping him or putting him in his place as arguably one of the most popular and recognizable Christian music celebrities. I just wanted to hear what he thought.

I managed to catch him in the terminal at Dallas. I introduced myself and asked if I could ask him just one question. "It's my perception that Christian music copies mainstream secular music, and that there is little creativity in this sub-industry. As someone who is in the thick of this, do you think that this is accurate, and what do you think about it. Alternatively, do you think anything can be done?"

His answer genuinely surprised me. His answer was basically that that is a really cheap pot shot at Christian artists. He pointed out that secular mainstream copies itself so many times over, that it is small wonder that the Christian sub-industry does the same. It's easy to look at Christians and blame them as copycats (which I have done for years), but no one blames secular artists who do the same. The whole conversation didn't last more than 5-10 minutes as we were figuring out which gates we needed to head to, but he was very straightforward, very genuine, very down to earth, and very real. I was very impressed. Someone in his position could totally have lit into me and eviscerated me on multiple levels (a non-musician metalhead proclaiming originality and creativity?) but he didn't. He took it in stride, and I was impressed. I realize he probably gets this kind of crap often, but his demeanor was admirable.

As I was processing his answer, I realized he's absolutely right. I myself maintain that Christian music is merely a genre, or a marketing strategy employed to sucker nice gullible people out of their money under the guise of religious betterment, so why couldn't I appreciate the simple truth of what he said before? I rag on pop and hip hop regardless of whether it's Xian or secular because I don't like the genres, and despise country out and out because...it's freakin' country. bleh. So, why was I surprised by his answer? I'm not sure, but it's food for thought. And the final thought is: Celebrate and enjoy art because it's good art, not because you perceive that it aligns with your opinions.

Too Many Thoughts

So, because I have so much stuff going on in my head, it is time for some digital vomit. Aren't you glad you started reading this? In short order, here is some stream of consciousness.

Charlie Huston has the most incendiary and awesome dialogue I have read in a long long time. If you can handle or like gratuitous and gross things that most Christians and many nice respectable people cannot, read "the Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death." It's amazing, and a must-read.

I got stopped by a cop the other day(night). This was after the family reunion I went too, and after I'd been hanging out with cousins watching Napoleon Dynamite. It's always fun describing how that is really how Idaho looks (that part at least), and that I have friends from that area...it's a rich life. She (cop-ette?) pulls me over for having a brake light out. sees my insurance is expired. smells alcohol on my breath (I stopped drinking two hours previous, but considering I started nine hours earlier...), sees (unopened) beer in the backseat. I don't know what it was, but she believes me when I tell her I have my new insurance card in Portland (true) (this is 300 miles north near Canada, btw), believes me that I am taking the next left up ahead for my uncle's house (true) and that I didn't know my brake light was out (sort of true?) SHE LETS ME GO WITHOUT EVEN A WARNING. That is the grace of God right there. Any other city besides Oak Harbor where nothing happens, and I'd have been in jail before I could burp up some carbonation. (I'm fairly certain I would have passed any field sobriety test, include breathalizer, but still, they'll hit you with DUI for almost anything.

I need a new car. badly. The current one, you can hear three blocks away like it's about to disintegrate. Struts need replaced, brakes need replaced, suspension needs replaced, CV joints need fixed. Engine block leaks like the Iraqi border, the wiper fluid doesn't squirt, the AC stopped working (bad time, may I mention?), etc etc. Oh, and the tabs expire in two days. So, a new car is wanted, very badly. I have a loan approved, I just need to find something. help?

and the internet does get to know more about me, as I know it doesn't care for me, even though it tells me otherwise.

It feels good to get out of Portland for a bit, only to escape the heat. *insert panting here*

Goals

So, I've been thinking about purpose and goals recently. I never jumped on board with the whole Purpose-Driven anything band-wagon, as I've never felt the need, and always felt like I had a good grasp on why we are here. (It's to go hiking, btw) But I was presented this week with some food for thought that I have been slowly chewing, and will continue to chew on for yet a while longer.

The context is that this past week, I spent three days at a seminar for work where the entire office took off to a retreat/spa-thing in the Gorge to discuss teamwork etc. I'll spare you the boring exercises and communication ordeals, but suffice to say, it was actually a lot more enjoyable than anticipated, and I think I've been spoiled for team-building conferences for a very long time due to the caliber of presenter that facilitated it. The focus at the end was on personal goal-setting. I drew to remembrance how goal-setting is what got me out of the hell-hole of Newberg, and that my goal-setting was seemingly divinely encouraged (I appreciate God's 2x4s) But once I got out of Newberg and into Portland, it seemed that I sort of stopped setting goals.

So, the question then becomes, 'What are my goals now?' And once again, I am drawn into my existential stalemate. Goals without the proper motivation are fruitless if pursuing the 'best', and I want to pursue the 'best' whatever that is. However, lacking proper motivation breeds indecision and stagnation, which is what I have sort of found myself gravitating towards. So, is any goal or purpose better than stagnation? Or is it worth it to try and construe proper motivation before commencing any long-term goal-setting?

The practical part of me just wants to set myself in motion, as motion is better than nothing, and course can be adjusted mid-flight. It is well-known you cannot adjust a non-moving entity to anything or anywhere easily. (Yay for inertia!)The logical, organized, and ultimately boring part of me wants to make sure all my ducks are in a row before I kill them and make soup. So, maybe I just need to be messy and run in one direction first, killing all the ducks I see, so that I may learn the best recipe. (for bad metaphors, as well as duck soup)

More Writing

For a long time, I have thought about, flirted with, and generally toyed with the idea of writing more. I'd like to, and then as soon as I actually do write something, all the doubt and loathing and second-guessing comes in etc. I think a good chunk of people know what I mean in regards to the creative process.

I currently have ideas/outlines/whatever for up to seven books, not all of them fiction. At any rate, this idea has resurfaced, not fiercly, but potently in recent weeks. I'm considering enrolling in a writing class in order to force myself to write, as I think inertia may be one of the main things holding me back. We'll see.

Recent Updates

So, It has been a while. What all has happened with me since September? I have bought more books. I have read some of them. I have thought much, and talked much. One thing that has happened has been a transition that in any other time frame would be full of drama, but as is, has happened very naturally. This would be the transition of one close friend out of my everyday life to another close friendship blossoming. It's not that one friend simply left and I found another, or that there was a fight, or conflict of any kind. Life takes us many different places, and it took a very close friend of mine around the world, out of frequent communication. This is a close friend whose opinion I value, whose friendship I appreciate, and one to whom I owe much more than I can admit, and hopefully will one day repay. It is odd when I think about it, as we spoke quite often, and shared in the daily drama of life etc etc, and now they are half-way around the world pursuing a wonderful vision with vigor and passion. It's strange to think that we've only said a few words to each other in almost three months.

And this leads me to another friend, one who is growing closer. I tried to help this friend through a difficult time in their life, and I'm not entirely sure how effective I have been. I listen more (at least I think I do) than I help, as I have realized how little I have to offer someone in their position. All the same, this friendship is growing, and while I am not entirely sure where it will lead me, it is a very pleasant friendship:)

I have had some very distressing revelations during this time, and one of those having to do with my previous post relating to emotion. Sometime in December, I realized that I have endangered this new friendship, and I endangered it awhile back before it even happened.

When my whole religious construct fell apart and I tried to move on, I came to a stand-still of sorts, and was at a complete loss for direction or a way forward. This in turn led to an existential phase. I don't feel the need to explain anything further than that, as I'm sure many of us as a generation have been and are there far too often. The point was that it inhibited forward progress. In my case - I grew more cynical and closed off emotionally blah blah blah. How this effected my friendships was that I began not to be able to take deeper matters seriously. Things of the soul, things of the heart - were lost on me, as a glib 'screw it' attitude took up residence inside my head. I realized this as I was trying to help this new friend and recognized that I could not care for their emotions, heart, or pain as they needed. It wasn't a 'I don't know what to do to help them' issue - it was a matter that we both knew that I could not treat their life, pain, drama, issues, etc with any empathy or compassion. Little by little, my choices had closed off the prospect of helping them.

I would like to say that I realized this, removed the bad, inserted good, moved on, and everyone lived existentially ever after, but I'm not convinced it's that straightforward. Pain is pain - and one cannot ignore it, lest it corrupt you. Pain, I think, must be healed before one can move on. Sure, life cannot stop while we self-indulge, and we must move on, but I'm not sure limping with scars is how we are meant to move on.

I'm not entirely how this functions with my slogan of "Shit happens. Bring a shovel." as I'm having mini-'Ah-ha!' moments as I'm writing this. Thoughts from the journey, I guess.

I take a strange comfort in the words of this song. I'm not sure why, as they seem to be more questions than answers, and more wondering than certainty:

Too Bright To See, Too Loud To Hear (Underoath - Lost in the Sound of Separation)

Good God, If your song leaves our lips/ if your work leaves our hands/ Then we will be wonders and vagabonds/ They will stare and say how empty we are/ How the freedom we had turned us up as dead men

Let us be cold and make us weak/let us, because we all have ears/let us, because we all have eyes

How they knew that this would happen/we're so run down/Good God can you still get us home.../how can we still get home/I'm not dreaming/We're forgetting our forgiveness.

Emotion & Spirituality

So, milestone along the journey. This is the summary of some musings and thoughts I have had over the past several months. So let's start at the beginning...

I grew up in a Christian microcosm, a very intense microcosm. It wouldn't be until I was in my mid-20s until I realized how peculiar a microcosm it was. Spirituality was very intense. Holiness was stressed big time, and well...intense would be the most appropriate, if not understated, modifier. When I was 16, this world started to crack, and by the time I turned 18, breakdown was in full swing. I tried to pick up the pieces and move on as best I could. I tried for a while, but I eventually had to admit that I could not deal with the fall-out of my religious construct breaking down. This came to a head when a friend of mine confronted me late one night and told me that I had become as bitter and unforgiving as the very people I had spent the last several years trying not to be. At least they had fun getting to where they were...

So, for the past several years, I've been wandering around in a bit of an existential funk trying to find my way and all that depressing stuff. I admitted that I was in depression and needed help, so I got into counseling, only to have it end as I graduated from university. I recently started pursuing some kind of help with these same mental patterns and stuff that has been weighing me down.(help being something besides alcohol...)

Along the way, I've realized that I have very little ability to process emotion. The easiest way I can describe it, is that it is like a white blood cell. It surrounds the alien substance, and removes it from the body. It's like my subconscious recognized emotion as an alien entity and tried to remove it from my cute little world. This wreaks havoc on most of my friendships, especially those with the opposite sex. That is another story entirely by itself.

So where I have ended up thanks to counseling, is realizing the importance of emotion in everyday life, as well as in one's spiritual well-being. I've found that to have healthy or even outstanding spiritual growth is incomplete without an accompanying emotional health. To have one without the other is to be lop-sided - like an ancillary Disney character. (Kronk's not exactly ancillary, but you get the picture). One cannot be complete without the presence of emotional health. You fall over, you break your backbone - what makes you stand up - and you lose many positive things that would otherwise dramatically improve your life. Now, if I only I could find some emotional health...that'd be the trick.

On the Pointlessness of Sanity

So, all of five minutes of looking into the meaning of the word 'sanity' and 'insanity' yields little in the substantive definition of 'insanity' but yields (in my mind) more interesting results for the meaning of 'sanity.' Using common sense (as much as I have) I'm going to go with 'Insanity is the opposite of sanity.' So with that...sanity. Wikipedia had what I thought was an interesting description - "of a healthy mind" according to its etymology. Functional definition: Insanity = unhealthy mind or state of mind. The dancing monkey will save us.

Next, let us consider the world we live in. It's pretty f@#$ed, no ifs, ands , or buts about it. Every time I have the misfortune of turning on the news (once every 2 months or so) It's always something dark and depressing and catastrophic. No one talks about kittens anymore...darn. To make up for it, we pay Hollywood billions of dollars a year to lie to us, stroke our matted fur and tell us it will all be OK, just as soon as overpaid actors dash daringly across a green screen to save our way of life. And this is the pinnacle of western civilization. or something. I could go on, but no. The dancing monkey will save us.

Another angle from to view this is from an applied relativistic standpoint. We have attempted to believe lies. 'there are no absolutes.' 'I can do what I want, because I live in a free country, therefore I'm right.' 'No one bitch slaps me when I say something stupid, I must be right, or God. maybe both." Our culture has attempted to fix the human condition with lies. By pretending to make new lies, we can fix the old ones! Eventually, we can lie ourselves out of our problems.' The dancing monkey will save us.

So, relativism. Postmodernism, etc. Whichever overused word you feel like using to describe how exactly we're screwed. So with 270 million people going insane (I'm assuming roughly 30 million sane people who are being hunted and herded into Montana and Wyoming slowly but surely) and thinking that they're all demi-gods who cannot be contradicted by virtue of where they're born, what's the point in being sane?

To get to my cracked metaphor already - if you're in a nuthouse, and there's no way to get out, and you're not in physical harm - why be sane? What good does it do you to be sane if everyone else is insane?

The only reason I can come up with is to get along with people. Relationships. If my circle of friends are all insane, and I'm sane - then I have an incredibly hard time relating to them and getting along. May as well become insane with them right? I'm not saying that we should all go off the deep end. I mean, this is America. We're there already. But it makes me wonder if we're trying too hard. If we're trying too hard to try and make sense of it all. Life doesn't make sense outside of relationships. I think it's possible that the human race has been insane from the day it broke the most important friendship we had and left Eden. By ourselves, this is what we become. The dancing monkey will save us. or Jesus. preferably Jesus.