Perhaps I'm Bipolar

You know, I'm usually pretty private about my emotions. But I just got a wave of happy. Sometimes it happens. Lest this disintegrate into a cliche boring blog about how awesome my life is, I'll tell an allegory.

This reminds me of our ridiculous Schnauzer who possessed the biggest ego of any canine I've ever encountered.

Excluding purse-dwellers, most dogs get dirty. Schnapps did. We would plop him in the tub and spray him down--one hand on his back to stop him from shaking off, and the other pouring copious amounts of No Tears shampoo into his fur. He would look up at us with a wide-eyed stare of pure humiliation. I didn't think dogs were capable of emotion until seeing his look that seethed with what I can only describe as unadulterated indignation. Judging from his expression, you'd think we had dressed him up like Lady GaGa. But he would emerge from this experience a new dog. His scrawny frame all too visible, he looked like a glorified sewer rat.

*

But here is the kicker. This little guy would then run around the house in a maniacal fashion, rubbing his wet beard and ears on the carpet. After this little ritual, he would engage us in a "game" both parties only partly understood. He would run around and then stop in front of us, his butt in the air, his forepaws on the ground. This is when we would try and grab him and he would rear up and nip at our hands before sprinting top speed around the house again. His new freedom did not last long, however. Soon he would be scooped up by mom to be brushed. He hated that. Afterward, he looked all fluffy and not manly at all. No matter, the next day he was back to his matted manly self.

 *

The point is, no matter what weighs us down or dirties us, soon we'll be happily bounding to our next crappy moment. So enjoy it while it lasts.

*Artist's Rendition. NOT ACTUAL PICTURES.

[Keep following. I'll be back to normal soon enough and you can feed off my negativity like emo-vampires.]

Rainy Day

Weather does strange things to people.

It rained on Monday. I happened to be working. Outside. On Monday. I heard the sky open with an echoing crack and watched the deluge that followed. The water poured off the vestibule, making a hundred-foot wide Costco Wholesale waterfall. And a sea of humanity gathered underneath. 

The huddled masses milled about, supporting their general sense of awe with off-handed comments to their new friends; all united by the common desire to stay dry, the atmosphere was pleasant. 

Until all hell broke loose. 

I think Mother Nature has a switch that turns people's brains off. She must have flipped it. All at once the parking lot was full of cars. It must be an instinctual reaction to go shopping when the weather is the worst -- a sort of hibernation/famine gorging instinct. The affable crowd that had once so peacefully exchanged smalltalk, turned on itself. Friends were suddenly mortal enemies in the jostle for vehicle loading position. Grandpas with two items in their carts looked to be the first because, "we'll be finished the soonest." And Soccer moms with two arms and two carts full waved their husbands into the newly-created loading zone because, "we would be out in the rain longer than the rest of you." 

Now, I wasn't in Vietnam. But I'm sure the war here, spoken and unspoken, raged just as fitfully. Spoken because some elected to justify their wrongdoing with loud logic, and unspoken because some just double parked and loaded their cars with a solemn stern expression, saying not a word to anyone. I was engulfed in horror. Cars piled and parked with no regard to the cones so carefully set in place to keep the peace. Cars and people covered the fire lane like moths. I even saw a grandma punch a baby.  

We've all experienced this. The first day of snow is just as bad. Traffic crawls for no apparent reason. People drive in a manner that seems to say, "what is all this white slippery stuff on the road?" Even the most seasoned, Ice-Road-Truckers-watchin', badass in a huge SUV is scared to turn into an intersection for some reason. Again, Mother Nature flips the switch and people go brain dead. Just you wait for it. 

At some point, my heroic instincts kicked in. I raised my hands and said in my most calm but firm voice, "you aren't allowed to park or load your cars in this area." And there I stood, glorious in my victory. My head held high, I was triumphant.

But no one responded.

So I did the next best thing. Now slightly flustered, I started tipping empty carts over on their handles along the road. As soon as a car moved, I silently wheeled into place and tipped a cart over. Thus sealing off the entrance to the precious dry-zone. I seem to recall wearing an American flag as a cape during my endeavor. This act was much to the distress of the water-droplet-hating clientèle. I soon heard spiteful cries of, "what are you doing?" and, "you can't do that!" and, "listen pal, I pay your wage..." and so on. But the law needed to be upheld. And I withstood the mob to do so. 

[Keep following, I hear there is a new candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize.]

The General Rules #1 - Breaking Up

A strange thing. To begin with the end. But with this topic, as with many others, the process is cyclical. The beginning and the end are closer than we may think. Also, in light of recent events in my life, this is also a fitting place to start. And until we are taken out of this cycle (by getting married), one dare not speak of love without heartbreak.

Get ready. I’m about to flip your world on its head. Ready? Many think that the opposite of love is hate.

It isn’t.

This last semester in my Intro to the English Language course we discussed this concept at length. This is a semantic issue. When discussing opposites we learned how to make a binary grid to analyze the components of a word. It looked something like this:

                                              RELATION   Male   Senior   Directly Related
                                              Father              +         +                   +
                                              Mother             -          +                   +
                                              Niece               -           -                    -

A binary grid uses randomly assigned components to examine what the chosen words have in common. Based on the features chosen we can conclude that the opposite of a father is in fact a niece. Or, if one were to assign a new feature such as “Animate” after “Directly Related” the opposite of a father would probably end up being a rock or something of the sort. In this particular example we find that the words father and mother actually share many common traits. They are differentiated by one degree. So it often is with what we call “Opposites.”

                                              FEELINGS   Positive    Intense   Concern
                                              Love                +             +            +
                                              Hate                 -             +             +
                                              Apathy             -              -             -

From my cleverly devised Binary Grid, one may conclude that the opposite of “Love” is actually a state we call “Apathy,” which by its definition is a “state of indifference”. Apathy is by its nature a suppression of emotion. Love and hate are only separated by one degree: the positive nature of the feeling. Love and hate both involve a certain amount of intensity and concern (positive or negative) about a person. Apathy, on the other hand, involves nothing of the sort.

I tell you these things to tell you this: You can never “get over” someone without forgiving them. It does not matter in the least what that person has done to you. For if you presumptuously assume that you can banish your love by switching it to hate, in order to forget someone, you will never be able to fully let things go. The two are too closely related. Because of this bond, rousing one will also rouse the other. This would lead to years of pent-up emotion that is only softened by a very human forgetfulness. We can forget our feelings, but all it takes is one chance encounter or errant wedding invitation to stir up those old love/hate emotions.

I am not by any means suggesting that we must become apathetic towards someone we have formerly loved. (Because that would simply be a weapon of buried and harbored hate.) Only forgiveness solves this problem. Forgiveness erases hate and apathy and fills us with contented sincerity towards the other person. It cleanses us, not them. And allows us to move forward with hope rather than resentment.

But wait! you exclaim, what about those who have done the breaking up? I will tell you. Rest easy. A few thoughts can be comforting. First, always remember that no one starts dating someone else in order to hurt their feelings. (This is all assuming you have broken up with the person under amiable circumstances{as far as breaking up with someone allows}and not fickle or petty or evil reasons.) Second, take comfort in the things you felt. As my wise-beyond-his-years brother once said, “It is going to fail until it works.” It is as simple as that. The relationship was either right or it was not. Trust your feelings, though it may be the hardest thing you have ever done. And last, do not concern yourself with whether or not you can express what you feel. One shared attribute that could be placed on the end of the Feelings Binary Grid could be “Inexpressible.” This would be something that all emotions would score a plus on. Trying to describe what you feel would be like trying to describe a color to a blind person. Red is red, just as black is black, just as love is love, and knowing it’s right is knowing it’s right. It simply is. Or it isn’t.

This is one thing that is simple with regards to love. It is getting to this point during which all the confusion arises. But let’s save that for another time.

[Keep following. If it please you.]

Masquerading on. And on.

What a difference a day makes. I think Annie was right. No matter what happens in our today, tomorrow still has an imagination. And it's better than yours. Way better.

Life tends to be a smug masquerade. We are all dancers on it's floor. We wear our ornate costumes, drape ourselves in exotic fabrics, and elegantly spin as if nothing were amiss. We have our masks; our self-deceptions, pride, and narrow pessimism. As if no new dawn could lavish hope.

Little do we know that around each spinning step slinks an opportunist fate. A met glance. Another chance. Or the audacity of romance. We simple fools. We dance on. Side-stepping our mistress luck for the gatekeeper solitude. We cloud our eyes with ethereal fantasy and drift past waiting out our lives as if it were some one-time-only movie showing.

The sun will come out tomorrow. Though you can't fathom its glory. The while we study the barbican moon. The haunches of its dimness. Shortchange those we love and whittle away the minutes. There is contentment but not joy. We experience a sort of damning lack of progress with contentment. We would have joy but for sadness. Fear whips us into hovels.

I for one am in a beaming moment. Warm-faced and blissful. Spirits akin to longing, now embrace like long-parted friends. Keep me loving and I get away from the dance and tear off my mask; and live.

[Keep following children. Happy days are upon us if you look hard enough. Who knows? Maybe you will wake up 50 years from now to a sterile gray dawn and short days filled with ashen snow.]

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.]