So I may have just seen the best YouTube video that I have/will ever seen/see. But before I embed it, a few remarks. First of all, I know that none of my readership will ever go into motivational speaking so this may all be moot. But just in case any of you ever consider it, please remember: "The motivational speaking profession requires no formal training or certification, however skills in public speaking in many cases addressing large audiences are vital" (Wikipedia).
This is one of those things in life that encourages dumb people because they think, "No formal training required?! Bonus bonus bonus! I can do that! Easy!" What they fail to recognize is that this is exactly what should discourage, rather than encourage them. If the movie "Little Miss Sunshine" was any lesson, not just anyone can be a motivational speaker. If something requires no education, it is usually the hardest thing you can possibly do. Things like being an inventor, entrepreneur, or freelance writer should be viewed with more caution. If you are amazing at any of these things naturally, then by all means, jump in. But if you don't have anything more to say besides:
1. Figure out what you want to do
2. Believe in yourself
3. Formulate a plan of action
4. Follow through with it
5. Never give up
you should probably consider trade school. Well enough babble, just watch. And hold on, or you may fall out of your chair, as I.
Also, some things just can't be done. Or at least without maiming yourself. Maybe he should change #1 to: Figure out something USEFUL AND PREFERABLY NOT UTTERLY ASININE that you want to do. Watch the hilarious follow up. It won't disappoint.
[Keep following. And I promise you will be inspired to climb Everest. Naked.]
20 May 2010
A Fair Warning
This is a bathroom story. I had to pee. It happens sometimes. This time it happened at work. I walked in and saw this old guy standing at the middle of the three urinals, in clear violation of proper urinal etiquette. Rather than opting to wait, I just went to the closest to the door. So I done did ma' business, and was zipping up when said old guy (STILL at the urinal) turned to me and said, "Be grateful for your young days. A steady stream and strong flow doesn't last long." To which I replied chuckling, "Thanks. I'll remember that."
And I will. I was grateful for that small reminder that the clock is always ticking. I've been in a contemplative mood all day since then. I was walking up my stairs on my way home from a vigorous run (partly still motivated from the bathroom incident) and I was remembering, not thinking, I miss my freshman year in college. Things were fun then. After having that thought I had to laugh at myself because I didn't think things were all that grand when I was in the moment Freshman year. In reality, a lot of really crappy things happened freshman year. The funny thing about time passing is that it automatically and simultaneously also applies a rose-tinting. We forget pain. We forget heartbreak. We forget stress. We don't forget happy moments. I think the function of this paradox is to try and remind us that we are in "the good ol' days" right now. Today. If we keep in mind that we will look back with longing on days like today 20 years from now, we will live differently.
None of this makes problems go away or pain any less real. But maybe we can react differently and perhaps even preemptively apply that rose-tinting. This is advice so often heard and repeated that it is much worse than cliche. It is also that way for a reason. Every one of us needs this lesson. We all should keep in mind that "a steady stream and a strong flow doesn't last forever." I am grateful for a normal sized prostate.
[Keep following. I know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.]
And I will. I was grateful for that small reminder that the clock is always ticking. I've been in a contemplative mood all day since then. I was walking up my stairs on my way home from a vigorous run (partly still motivated from the bathroom incident) and I was remembering, not thinking, I miss my freshman year in college. Things were fun then. After having that thought I had to laugh at myself because I didn't think things were all that grand when I was in the moment Freshman year. In reality, a lot of really crappy things happened freshman year. The funny thing about time passing is that it automatically and simultaneously also applies a rose-tinting. We forget pain. We forget heartbreak. We forget stress. We don't forget happy moments. I think the function of this paradox is to try and remind us that we are in "the good ol' days" right now. Today. If we keep in mind that we will look back with longing on days like today 20 years from now, we will live differently.
None of this makes problems go away or pain any less real. But maybe we can react differently and perhaps even preemptively apply that rose-tinting. This is advice so often heard and repeated that it is much worse than cliche. It is also that way for a reason. Every one of us needs this lesson. We all should keep in mind that "a steady stream and a strong flow doesn't last forever." I am grateful for a normal sized prostate.
[Keep following. I know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.]
16 May 2010
Practice makes...
I had a moment of clarity the other night. (I've been going for drives a lot lately -- mostly because Miles is in Australia.) I was thinking of a mind set that many of us who have been on missions know about. Maybe I'm generalizing too much, but I'm usually right anyway so it doesn't matter.
On a mission it becomes necessary to create a buffer between yourself and your message and/or your method of delivery. Many of us were encouraged to do this with words like, "Remember, they aren't rejecting you, they are rejecting God's message." There is nothing wrong with this. It's good advice for anyone who didn't want to go insane or spiral into depression. There is nothing wrong with it because it is a true statement. When people said no, it wasn't usually because they disliked us as people. They just didn't want to listen to us. And that was OK. In other words, we just couldn't take the rejection personally.
My realization came the other day when I realized that this is one thing that none of us should ever have brought home with us from our missions. It is something that clings to us like a TB exposure or tapeworm. They told us to make our missions springboards for the rest of our lives. This is also good advice. We should all keep the work ethic, dedication, and determination we learned throughout our lives. But one thing we should have left with our ragged suits and tattered shoes in the mission field, was the idea that people are only rejecting an aspect of you when they reject you post-mission. Yes, I'm talking about girls now.
In my naive way I thought that missionary work would somehow also apply to the realm of dating. (Ha ha.) I thought, "I'm used to rejection. It happened to me everyday. Dating will be easy." It has taken me a year to realize that everything I learned for two years doesn't apply here. I was rudely awakened the first time rejection came. Something was different. It hurt more. No matter how much I told myself that it was the same, it just wasn't. "I must be doing something wrong. I'll won't do this or that next time. I'm still adjusting," I thought. So I did it. I asked for advice, experimented, and yes, even read a book on the subject. And at each small rejection, I changed. Because they weren't rejecting me, they were rejecting my message, an aspect of me.
Don't get me wrong. I was not getting dumped and humiliated and snubbed every Friday night like the word rejection implies. It was in little ways. Just starting up a conversation that would end up going nowhere, and so on. You get what I'm saying. Anyway, my revelation was that this is personal now. I'm not presenting someone with a message anymore. I'm presenting myself. And this whole time, this whole last year, I've been presenting only aspects of me. The parts of me that I think people will like and admire and accept. My realization was that this has been a safety blanket. If I get dismissed, I can chalk it up to being the fault of my technique, or a part of myself that wasn't as likable as I had previously thought. I've really let no one see everything, for fear that they would find something they might not like. I guess that is what people mean when they say just be yourself.
In losing yourself for the sake of love or getting to know someone, you gain nothing. You can separate aspects of yourself from who you truly are, and present that to someone. It works. I've been doing it. And if you are rejected it doesn't hurt because, "hey, it wasn't really me they were rejecting." You can make that separation, but that isn't you. Contrary to modern attitudes, you shouldn't have to give everything up for love. You don't have to sacrifice your identity to show your love for someone. That only hurts. I'm not saying we shouldn't try to constantly strive to be better. You can always be better. But you don't have to give up what defines you to accomplish it. It all comes back to being honest. Not just with other people, but with yourself. That is all.
[Keep following. You may get to know me yet. Like the one time I got crocodile wrestling lessons from Steve Erwin.]
On a mission it becomes necessary to create a buffer between yourself and your message and/or your method of delivery. Many of us were encouraged to do this with words like, "Remember, they aren't rejecting you, they are rejecting God's message." There is nothing wrong with this. It's good advice for anyone who didn't want to go insane or spiral into depression. There is nothing wrong with it because it is a true statement. When people said no, it wasn't usually because they disliked us as people. They just didn't want to listen to us. And that was OK. In other words, we just couldn't take the rejection personally.
My realization came the other day when I realized that this is one thing that none of us should ever have brought home with us from our missions. It is something that clings to us like a TB exposure or tapeworm. They told us to make our missions springboards for the rest of our lives. This is also good advice. We should all keep the work ethic, dedication, and determination we learned throughout our lives. But one thing we should have left with our ragged suits and tattered shoes in the mission field, was the idea that people are only rejecting an aspect of you when they reject you post-mission. Yes, I'm talking about girls now.
In my naive way I thought that missionary work would somehow also apply to the realm of dating. (Ha ha.) I thought, "I'm used to rejection. It happened to me everyday. Dating will be easy." It has taken me a year to realize that everything I learned for two years doesn't apply here. I was rudely awakened the first time rejection came. Something was different. It hurt more. No matter how much I told myself that it was the same, it just wasn't. "I must be doing something wrong. I'll won't do this or that next time. I'm still adjusting," I thought. So I did it. I asked for advice, experimented, and yes, even read a book on the subject. And at each small rejection, I changed. Because they weren't rejecting me, they were rejecting my message, an aspect of me.
Don't get me wrong. I was not getting dumped and humiliated and snubbed every Friday night like the word rejection implies. It was in little ways. Just starting up a conversation that would end up going nowhere, and so on. You get what I'm saying. Anyway, my revelation was that this is personal now. I'm not presenting someone with a message anymore. I'm presenting myself. And this whole time, this whole last year, I've been presenting only aspects of me. The parts of me that I think people will like and admire and accept. My realization was that this has been a safety blanket. If I get dismissed, I can chalk it up to being the fault of my technique, or a part of myself that wasn't as likable as I had previously thought. I've really let no one see everything, for fear that they would find something they might not like. I guess that is what people mean when they say just be yourself.
In losing yourself for the sake of love or getting to know someone, you gain nothing. You can separate aspects of yourself from who you truly are, and present that to someone. It works. I've been doing it. And if you are rejected it doesn't hurt because, "hey, it wasn't really me they were rejecting." You can make that separation, but that isn't you. Contrary to modern attitudes, you shouldn't have to give everything up for love. You don't have to sacrifice your identity to show your love for someone. That only hurts. I'm not saying we shouldn't try to constantly strive to be better. You can always be better. But you don't have to give up what defines you to accomplish it. It all comes back to being honest. Not just with other people, but with yourself. That is all.
[Keep following. You may get to know me yet. Like the one time I got crocodile wrestling lessons from Steve Erwin.]
13 May 2010
09 May 2010
/the Vulnerable man.
So the idea for this post came from an Alanis Morissette song. Don't judge me.
This Erastus Snow quote helped things along: “If good and evil is placed before us, does not the person who chooses the good and refuses the evil exhibit his agency and manhood as much as the man who chooses the evil and refuses the good? or is the independence of manhood all on the side of the evil-doer? I leave you to answer this question in your own mind. To me, I think the angels and saints and all good people have exercised their agency by choosing the good and refusing the evil; and in doing so they not only exhibit their independence and manhood as much, but show a much higher and greater nobility of character and disposition; and I leave the future to determine who are wise in the choice of their freedom and independence."
I'd like to relate what Erastus said to what makes a man manly when dealing with love. Mr. Snow points out the twisted lie that the devil uses to convince us that any command that God gives us is a limitation upon our agency and somehow restrictive. Satan would have us believe that only when we are rebelling are we truly using our agency. When in fact, the opposite is true. Wrong choices bind us and jail us to the consequences of addiction and pain. Good choices allow us to be continually happy and free from bad consequences. But what does this have to do with being a man?
I want to respond to a cultural current that suggests that all men have to be "tough" and insensitive to be considered "manly" in matters of the heart. Let us think of some of the standard attributes that all men need to have in order to seem like a typical strong man: he must be brave, he must be a leader, and he must be a protector and provider.
First, he must be brave. Like Erastus Snow, I'd like to pose some rhetorical questions: what does it mean to be brave? Is it not to act courageously in the face of opposition? What opposition is there in love? What do men fight against? To be brave in love is not to sit back and wait for love to find us. To be brave in love is to put ourselves out there, be vulnerable, to play the game where our hearts are the stakes. To be brave in love is to play for keeps. Our culture would have us believe that men must be brave in other things and save our courage for other fields. Our culture would have us believe that it is "manly" to not let ourselves be hurt. Our culture would have us take our hearts out of the equation. Our culture would have us stay back from the fight and only enter on terms of complete emotional armor; we are not to have any chance of being hurt. To me, that is cowardly. To me, that is not brave. To me, that is the opposite of masculinity.
Second, he must be a leader. Our cultural standards would have us believe that men must be the aggressors. We must lead the charge. We must escalate. This is all true. It is our job. The problem is that we don't do it. Our charges are feints, our forays distractions. We are so hung up on being strong that it makes us forget our responsibilities. We can't possibly be bold, for therein lies the possibility of being hurt, and to be hurt is to be weak. And we can't have weak leaders now can we? Really it is those that lay wounded and dying that have exhibited their manliness and done their job, not the cool and emotionally detached onlooker. To lead is to be in the mix, not watching from afar.
Third, he must be a protector and provider. What does the emotionally invulnerable male protect but himself? What does he provide but misery for those who would be with him? True masculinity means getting out there and finding someone to protect and provide for, no matter the cost. And make no mistake, the cost is emotional hurt. We need to change the roles of men. We need to be more like the romantics. We need to write poetry and pursue unrequited love and do whatever it takes, and women and men alike must come to see this for what it is. Not weakness. But strength. Determination. Leadership. Fulfilling our role as protector, as provider. Alanis said it like this:
You, with your eyes mix strength with abandon
You, with your new kind of heroism ...
This is a thank you for letting me in
Indeed in praise of the vulnerable man
Now, if men start doing these things and putting their hearts out there, and start becoming emotionally available it becomes the job of women to "...vow to be true / ...vow to not take advantage." Reward rather than punish men for this new found heroism. Don't be callous. Don't be cold. See his actions for what they are. Let them become admirable in your eyes. Praise the vulnerable man. He might be the manliest man you know.
[Keep following and I'll tell of the time my sister's ballet instructor hit on me.]
This Erastus Snow quote helped things along: “If good and evil is placed before us, does not the person who chooses the good and refuses the evil exhibit his agency and manhood as much as the man who chooses the evil and refuses the good? or is the independence of manhood all on the side of the evil-doer? I leave you to answer this question in your own mind. To me, I think the angels and saints and all good people have exercised their agency by choosing the good and refusing the evil; and in doing so they not only exhibit their independence and manhood as much, but show a much higher and greater nobility of character and disposition; and I leave the future to determine who are wise in the choice of their freedom and independence."
I'd like to relate what Erastus said to what makes a man manly when dealing with love. Mr. Snow points out the twisted lie that the devil uses to convince us that any command that God gives us is a limitation upon our agency and somehow restrictive. Satan would have us believe that only when we are rebelling are we truly using our agency. When in fact, the opposite is true. Wrong choices bind us and jail us to the consequences of addiction and pain. Good choices allow us to be continually happy and free from bad consequences. But what does this have to do with being a man?
I want to respond to a cultural current that suggests that all men have to be "tough" and insensitive to be considered "manly" in matters of the heart. Let us think of some of the standard attributes that all men need to have in order to seem like a typical strong man: he must be brave, he must be a leader, and he must be a protector and provider.
First, he must be brave. Like Erastus Snow, I'd like to pose some rhetorical questions: what does it mean to be brave? Is it not to act courageously in the face of opposition? What opposition is there in love? What do men fight against? To be brave in love is not to sit back and wait for love to find us. To be brave in love is to put ourselves out there, be vulnerable, to play the game where our hearts are the stakes. To be brave in love is to play for keeps. Our culture would have us believe that men must be brave in other things and save our courage for other fields. Our culture would have us believe that it is "manly" to not let ourselves be hurt. Our culture would have us take our hearts out of the equation. Our culture would have us stay back from the fight and only enter on terms of complete emotional armor; we are not to have any chance of being hurt. To me, that is cowardly. To me, that is not brave. To me, that is the opposite of masculinity.
Second, he must be a leader. Our cultural standards would have us believe that men must be the aggressors. We must lead the charge. We must escalate. This is all true. It is our job. The problem is that we don't do it. Our charges are feints, our forays distractions. We are so hung up on being strong that it makes us forget our responsibilities. We can't possibly be bold, for therein lies the possibility of being hurt, and to be hurt is to be weak. And we can't have weak leaders now can we? Really it is those that lay wounded and dying that have exhibited their manliness and done their job, not the cool and emotionally detached onlooker. To lead is to be in the mix, not watching from afar.
Third, he must be a protector and provider. What does the emotionally invulnerable male protect but himself? What does he provide but misery for those who would be with him? True masculinity means getting out there and finding someone to protect and provide for, no matter the cost. And make no mistake, the cost is emotional hurt. We need to change the roles of men. We need to be more like the romantics. We need to write poetry and pursue unrequited love and do whatever it takes, and women and men alike must come to see this for what it is. Not weakness. But strength. Determination. Leadership. Fulfilling our role as protector, as provider. Alanis said it like this:
You, with your eyes mix strength with abandon
You, with your new kind of heroism ...
This is a thank you for letting me in
Indeed in praise of the vulnerable man
Now, if men start doing these things and putting their hearts out there, and start becoming emotionally available it becomes the job of women to "...vow to be true / ...vow to not take advantage." Reward rather than punish men for this new found heroism. Don't be callous. Don't be cold. See his actions for what they are. Let them become admirable in your eyes. Praise the vulnerable man. He might be the manliest man you know.
[Keep following and I'll tell of the time my sister's ballet instructor hit on me.]
03 May 2010
I've Always Wanted
A scar on my face.
THINK about it. I would have instant street cred., no awkward silences, and I would be super intimidating/sexy.
Street cred. because everyone would be like, "Whoa, he obviously knows how to handle himself on the streets." They would see my sweet gnarled scar tissue and listen up when I spoke. If I escaped with only this scar on my face the other guy would necessarily look much worse. The fact that I would survive any encounter with anything that would leave that sweet of a scar makes me automatically a leader of men.
No awkward pauses. Think about it. If any silence in conversation were to arise, there would only be one option, and that is to ask, "HOW DID YOU GET THAT SWEET A** SCAR?" And if they had asked me, like most, immediately after meeting me for the first time, and subsequently had already heard the awesome story behind it, they would ask about it again. Just because it is so unbelievably awesome. They would need to hear the story again to make sure they didn't miss any details.
How would all men react upon seeing my scar? I'll tell you. They would first get out of my way, second give me all their cash/girlfriends, and third try to elect me into public office because I obviously know what I'm doing. All of that or they would simply cower in fear of my manliness. What would women do? Besides swooning, not much.
THAT is why I want a scar on my face. Not too big to obscure any of my features, not too small to be confused with some minor injury incident, and just deep enough to make all your wishes come true. Like gazing into a leprechaun's pot. Maybe a curved line down one of my cheeks. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Try and tell me you don't want to ask him where he got his scar. Awesome.
[Keep following. Who knows what I'll do next?]
THINK about it. I would have instant street cred., no awkward silences, and I would be super intimidating/sexy.
Street cred. because everyone would be like, "Whoa, he obviously knows how to handle himself on the streets." They would see my sweet gnarled scar tissue and listen up when I spoke. If I escaped with only this scar on my face the other guy would necessarily look much worse. The fact that I would survive any encounter with anything that would leave that sweet of a scar makes me automatically a leader of men.
No awkward pauses. Think about it. If any silence in conversation were to arise, there would only be one option, and that is to ask, "HOW DID YOU GET THAT SWEET A** SCAR?" And if they had asked me, like most, immediately after meeting me for the first time, and subsequently had already heard the awesome story behind it, they would ask about it again. Just because it is so unbelievably awesome. They would need to hear the story again to make sure they didn't miss any details.
How would all men react upon seeing my scar? I'll tell you. They would first get out of my way, second give me all their cash/girlfriends, and third try to elect me into public office because I obviously know what I'm doing. All of that or they would simply cower in fear of my manliness. What would women do? Besides swooning, not much.
THAT is why I want a scar on my face. Not too big to obscure any of my features, not too small to be confused with some minor injury incident, and just deep enough to make all your wishes come true. Like gazing into a leprechaun's pot. Maybe a curved line down one of my cheeks. Yeah, that's the ticket.
[Keep following. Who knows what I'll do next?]
02 May 2010
I'll keep trying 'til it works.
The city lights blur and streak by and I
drive to be alone and listen
to the saddest songs that make me
feel less a fool.
I pull off the road
park in a rest stop
scrawl these lines out,
I guess, for myself.
I write these words out because I'm
too much a coward to cut them in my skin.
I write them on a napkin because it's
poetic. And because bleeding wouldn't do them justice.
Even here among paltry raindrops
and shady overpasses your ghost finds me. I've
always said I would become a trucker if my
life fell to pieces.
That doesn't seem so funny now.
Because at least they can sleep soundly in backseat cabins around me.
I feel a fool for the time I
spent pining over you, yet it's
not pride that restrains my tears but my
damned fool's hope. Foolish optimism. Whatever you call it.
To my dismay even my best friends abandon me now.
My best friends are words. Sad, I know.
But I've left nonetheless and I'll
come back even less sure of why I
keep driving away like this.
I don't dream. But I did yesterday.
It ruined my day. Not because it was a bad dream.
But that only my pillow was close when I
woke. And the realization that in living lies the nightmare.
I've tried my best to lose you.
In vain. Again.
[Keep following. Manly post coming right up.]
drive to be alone and listen
to the saddest songs that make me
feel less a fool.
I pull off the road
park in a rest stop
scrawl these lines out,
I guess, for myself.
I write these words out because I'm
too much a coward to cut them in my skin.
I write them on a napkin because it's
poetic. And because bleeding wouldn't do them justice.
Even here among paltry raindrops
and shady overpasses your ghost finds me. I've
always said I would become a trucker if my
life fell to pieces.
That doesn't seem so funny now.
Because at least they can sleep soundly in backseat cabins around me.
I feel a fool for the time I
spent pining over you, yet it's
not pride that restrains my tears but my
damned fool's hope. Foolish optimism. Whatever you call it.
To my dismay even my best friends abandon me now.
My best friends are words. Sad, I know.
But I've left nonetheless and I'll
come back even less sure of why I
keep driving away like this.
I don't dream. But I did yesterday.
It ruined my day. Not because it was a bad dream.
But that only my pillow was close when I
woke. And the realization that in living lies the nightmare.
I've tried my best to lose you.
In vain. Again.
[Keep following. Manly post coming right up.]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)