i'm terrible at math
after the second grade i had to get private tutoring sessions to catch me back up with the rest of my classmates
because my second grade teacher had informed my mother that if i wanted to move on to the third grade...which i think was an admirable goal...then i would have to basically re-learn an entire year of elementary mathematics in a summer.
because, she said, math builds on itself and if you don't get this block
this piece
then you'll never be able to figure out division
multiplication
algebra
geometry
which means you won't get into a good college
you won't get a good job
you probably won't find a mate...and if you do they won't be able to add or subtract either
you won't be able to get a loan for a home
you'll sleep in your car
and eventually find your way back to the basement of your parents' house
seeing all this, my mom had me do math over the summer
because without addition
there can be no subtraction
without multiplication
is there division?
in math everything builds upon itself
for some of us we've been told that life, much like math, also builds upon itself
we age
we learn
we grow
we experience
we try
we fail
and we try again
sure...
we go to school
we learn to read
to write
to 'rithmatic'
and then we go to a bigger school
and then to college
and then we finally interview for that all important job
the one we've been working for our entire lives
the one our parents dreamed about before we were even born
the one that hovers over us like a cloud just waiting to pour
some would tell us that if even one of these steps along the way is skipped
rejected
or questioned
then life, much like math, all falls apart
for others of us we've been told that faith, much like math, also builds upon itself
and that without this doctrine
that belief
this view
that book
this idea
then it all falls apart...my guess is that you're starting to get the idea
so in response we construct an intricate framework of answers
responses
books
and ideas, which all attempt to counteract anything that might undermine this system
because, like we've said before, otherwise it all comes crashing down
(a slippery slope...if you will)
some call this the practice of apologetics
or the rigorous defense of a theory or set of beliefs
the only thing about this title is that we've failed to understand its full meaning
another person puts it this way: "regretfully acknowledging failure or regret"
what if:
instead of defending
demanding
and demeaning
we started apologizing:
for our commitment to a system that has more in common with pythagorus than jesus
for our inability to admit that sometimes we just don't know
for our inability to acknowledge that the world doesn't always make sense
and that sometimes not even God makes sense
or better yet, we even started apologizing:
for speaking in places and situations we were never invited into
for attempting to speak at all in moments that needed our presence rather than our words
for taking the place and filling the mouth of the one who by this point has figured out how to speak for himself
ultimately, our fear
our struggle to stay quiet is rooted in good intentions (there should be something here about paving a road) and simple mathematics
"if you don't see this, think that, and believe in these then how can you know anything about a way
a truth
a life
much less the right ones?"
this is the way the world works
a (plus) b (equals) c
this is the way faith works...most of the time
but there are those few moments...
like when he got sick
or she left
or someone said the word 'malignant'
or when the phone rang at 3am...that shatter every available explanation (or would it be better to say equation?)
maybe your experience has sounded a little like this:
"god has a plan"
"god is teaching you something"
"god is in control"
"don't worry"
"they're going to a better place"
and in those moments it's been my experience that what we need isn't a mathematician
to explain
to equate
to defend
or
to protect our faith with an ever ready response
(because often these responses reveal more about the insecurities of the responder rather than the hearer)
instead, perhaps all we need is for someone to BE faith for us rather than explain faith to us
to be quiet
to be sorry
to simply be...there with no agenda or explanation.
(because who really needs to hear that they are so stubborn that god, in order to teach them, has been forced to kill a loved one)
the only apologetic we should ever utter begins and ends
with i'm sorry
i'm sorry
i'm sorry
i'm sorry
i'm sorry...and so is the God of the crucifixion
and in these moments we discover that
we don't have to battle for the last word
or the best word
or the clearest word
or the most compelling word
because sometimes maybe we don't have anything truly revelatory to say
but the one thing we do know is...
that the God who lives with us
moves with us
breathes with us
suffers with us
and dies with us...also rises
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
open...
there are some people that everytime they open their mouths i know exactly what they're going to say
they way they'll word it
the adjectives
verbs
and nouns they'll gather together to form what for them is a brand new idea
it doesn't matter how they construct it
how they position it
whether or not they change their intonation
i've already decided
my mind's made up
there's nothing new here
sometimes i make this decision without even having heard the person speak
but by the way they dress
the way they sit
the way they breathe
their tone
their pitch
i've already begun placing their voice
their perspective
will it support or undermine my own position?
will it challenge or affirm my own ideas?
"vanity of vanities...there's nothing new under the sun"
(ecclesiastes is the ancient version of one of those posters with kittens playing with yarn just above the word "perseverance")
for some of us this is our mantra
"i've heard it before"
"there's nothing new here"
"this is just the way the world works"
good times
bad times
all times
"we've been here before and we'll be here again"
there's nothing new under the sun
"God blessed humankind and said to them...be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."
what if when God left the door of creation cracked he meant for us to fill in the gap
with our own creation
our own words
our own thoughts
and instead of bringing boxes we were merely supposed to show up, open handed
in order to imagine, to create, to speak things into being for the very first time
and maybe the most heretical thing we've done isn't to say things wrongly about God, but is rather to fear that we can
to fear:
the new
the different
the strange
the impossible
maybe this is why the resurrection is so compelling
because it invites us to see the new
the different
the strange
and the impossible...enfleshed
embodied
so, perhaps the question isn't have we heard this message before
have we asked this question already
have the right people okayed it
is it safe
is it right
but rather, are our hands and eyes open?
because maybe it's always been about putting flesh and blood on the breath that hovered over the waters
that spoke the world into being
and gave dust arms and legs
the breath that lived and moved among us
the breath that died
the breath that lives again and again and again
in outlining, defining, and deciding where truth does and doesn't come from maybe we've been missing the point of our genesis
"you can't think that"
"you can't say that"
"God doesn't do those sorts of things"
"there's nothing new under the sun"
just like...
"people don't rise from the dead"
they way they'll word it
the adjectives
verbs
and nouns they'll gather together to form what for them is a brand new idea
it doesn't matter how they construct it
how they position it
whether or not they change their intonation
i've already decided
my mind's made up
there's nothing new here
sometimes i make this decision without even having heard the person speak
but by the way they dress
the way they sit
the way they breathe
their tone
their pitch
i've already begun placing their voice
their perspective
will it support or undermine my own position?
will it challenge or affirm my own ideas?
"vanity of vanities...there's nothing new under the sun"
(ecclesiastes is the ancient version of one of those posters with kittens playing with yarn just above the word "perseverance")
for some of us this is our mantra
"i've heard it before"
"there's nothing new here"
"this is just the way the world works"
good times
bad times
all times
"we've been here before and we'll be here again"
there's nothing new under the sun
"God blessed humankind and said to them...be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."
what if when God left the door of creation cracked he meant for us to fill in the gap
with our own creation
our own words
our own thoughts
and instead of bringing boxes we were merely supposed to show up, open handed
in order to imagine, to create, to speak things into being for the very first time
and maybe the most heretical thing we've done isn't to say things wrongly about God, but is rather to fear that we can
to fear:
the new
the different
the strange
the impossible
maybe this is why the resurrection is so compelling
because it invites us to see the new
the different
the strange
and the impossible...enfleshed
embodied
so, perhaps the question isn't have we heard this message before
have we asked this question already
have the right people okayed it
is it safe
is it right
but rather, are our hands and eyes open?
because maybe it's always been about putting flesh and blood on the breath that hovered over the waters
that spoke the world into being
and gave dust arms and legs
the breath that lived and moved among us
the breath that died
the breath that lives again and again and again
in outlining, defining, and deciding where truth does and doesn't come from maybe we've been missing the point of our genesis
"you can't think that"
"you can't say that"
"God doesn't do those sorts of things"
"there's nothing new under the sun"
just like...
"people don't rise from the dead"
Saturday, February 6, 2010
if/then...
if you (not that you're anyone because no one will likely read this) were to ask me: "eric, what do you do?"
I read books
a lot of books
more than i should
before i go to bed
and when i first wake up
some mandatory
some interesting
some compelling
and some terrible
i own too many books...but i always seem to buy another
and another
and another
and another (you get the idea)
if you were to ask me why i read
education
intelligence
interest
boredom
graduation
all of these seem apropos
but if you asked me again, with more force or insight
i might be honest
i want to be smart
why?
i want to be well informed
why?
i want to be successful
why?
because maybe then i'll matter
maybe then i'll transcend my shortcomings
and my failings
because maybe then i'll be someone of worth
someone of substance
and because maybe then i'll hear it
i'll believe it
and then i'll be able to sleep at night
and then i'll be able to handle critique
and finally, i might simply be free to be, whoever it is that am unapologetically
i won't have to posture
to analyze
to guess, to position
to hide
to wonder
in order to construct someone you can respect
someone you can admire
someone you can believe in
i can put down the book
but until then...i have another chapter to read
another grade to receive
another praise to hear
"this time it'll be true"
"this time i'll believe it"
just one more book
one more test
one more job
one more task
one more kid
one more relationship
one more prayer
one more confession
one more retreat
"this time i'll believe it"
who's voice am i waiting on?
who's praise am i anxiously anticipating?
who's hand do i wish to feel on my back?
"blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven"
perhaps instead it should read
blessed are the illiterate
blessed are the spiritual zeroes
blessed are those who screw it up again, and again, and again
why?
because they really see a need for God?
because they recognize how crappy their life is?
because they've finally seen the err of their ways and desire a change?
why?
because we've adequately convinced them that everything they were doing before was bad, and that now they should feel guilty in order for us to offer a remedy to take away the guilt they didn't feel before we got there?
or
is it simply because they exist
because they're breathing
IF...
i just finish this chapter
i can just read this book
i can just quit this
fix that
heal those
be them
THEN...
i'll matter
i can rest
i'll be free
i can sleep at night
God will join me, will speak to me, will love me
blessed are those who haven't read the right books
who haven't made the right choices
who haven't gone to the right schools
who don't believe in the right kind of God
or in any kind of God for that matter
blessed are the addicted
the ashamed
the guilty
because God's hands, and eyes, and hears are open...
if you exist
if you're breathing
then you matter, but even better
you're blessed
the peace of this God begins with an if, but we've just been putting it in the wrong sorts of places
I read books
a lot of books
more than i should
before i go to bed
and when i first wake up
some mandatory
some interesting
some compelling
and some terrible
i own too many books...but i always seem to buy another
and another
and another
and another (you get the idea)
if you were to ask me why i read
education
intelligence
interest
boredom
graduation
all of these seem apropos
but if you asked me again, with more force or insight
i might be honest
i want to be smart
why?
i want to be well informed
why?
i want to be successful
why?
because maybe then i'll matter
maybe then i'll transcend my shortcomings
and my failings
because maybe then i'll be someone of worth
someone of substance
and because maybe then i'll hear it
i'll believe it
and then i'll be able to sleep at night
and then i'll be able to handle critique
and finally, i might simply be free to be, whoever it is that am unapologetically
i won't have to posture
to analyze
to guess, to position
to hide
to wonder
in order to construct someone you can respect
someone you can admire
someone you can believe in
i can put down the book
but until then...i have another chapter to read
another grade to receive
another praise to hear
"this time it'll be true"
"this time i'll believe it"
just one more book
one more test
one more job
one more task
one more kid
one more relationship
one more prayer
one more confession
one more retreat
"this time i'll believe it"
who's voice am i waiting on?
who's praise am i anxiously anticipating?
who's hand do i wish to feel on my back?
"blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven"
perhaps instead it should read
blessed are the illiterate
blessed are the spiritual zeroes
blessed are those who screw it up again, and again, and again
why?
because they really see a need for God?
because they recognize how crappy their life is?
because they've finally seen the err of their ways and desire a change?
why?
because we've adequately convinced them that everything they were doing before was bad, and that now they should feel guilty in order for us to offer a remedy to take away the guilt they didn't feel before we got there?
or
is it simply because they exist
because they're breathing
IF...
i just finish this chapter
i can just read this book
i can just quit this
fix that
heal those
be them
THEN...
i'll matter
i can rest
i'll be free
i can sleep at night
God will join me, will speak to me, will love me
blessed are those who haven't read the right books
who haven't made the right choices
who haven't gone to the right schools
who don't believe in the right kind of God
or in any kind of God for that matter
blessed are the addicted
the ashamed
the guilty
because God's hands, and eyes, and hears are open...
if you exist
if you're breathing
then you matter, but even better
you're blessed
the peace of this God begins with an if, but we've just been putting it in the wrong sorts of places
Friday, August 14, 2009
what do you mean...
"you know, you're right"
this statement reveals far more than merely the correctness of one position over that of another
it can be both a geographical location
or
the designation of a particular political ideology
it can free
or it can enslave
depending on how its said it can be
good
bad
or even ugly...
words are funny that way
it's almost as if they have more in common with stand ins...rather than the ones for whom they're holding a space
because depending on how you speak them
the emphasis
the articulation
the force
the glance or the glare behind and around the word
changes the meaning, the point of what we're uttering
how else can bad be good?
or good, bad?
how else can "i love you" mean anything but...love
perhaps in these instances what's important isn't the word, the place holder if you will, but rather who's doing the word-ing
in high school i had several friends who, for lack of a better "word", referred to one another as (insert the "n word")
how can a word with so much history, pain, degradation, shame, politic, and well, baggage, be spoken with such ease
such warmth
such grace?
so, being inquisitive, i asked what would happen if i were to use this moniker to address them:
in a word...pain
maybe it's always been about who's doing the speaking, and where they're speaking from...rather than what's being spoken
and maybe in the case of "right", and even "wrong"...it isn't the accuracy of these phrases, or even the baggage they carry with them that makes them so offensive
or so liberative
maybe its the baggage of who's doing the saying
of who's doing the "righting" and the "wronging"
that gives them their punch
or their pleasure
how else can "right" condemn, connote, criticize, or even create...
"you know what, you're right"
"i'm right"
"you're wrong...admit it"
i recently uttered and had these uttered to me as a result of, ironically enough, other words: and in light of this experience i came to some conclusions:
sometimes "i'm right" doesn't seem quite as impactful coming from clenched fists, red faces, and angry stares
sometimes "you're wrong" doesn't quite land how one might intend when spoken between rolled eyes, and huffs not seen since middle school.
sometimes "i'm a christian" isn't very freeing when everyone who's not is afraid to tell you
sometimes "Jesus is the only way" doesn't seem all that true when we say it with fingers in our ears, and eyes closed tight to the responses of those with whom we're speaking
maybe "you're right"
and
maybe "i'm wrong"
but maybe the fact that you're arms are crossed and there's spittle on your lip says far more than your angry stammerings are attempting to explain
some responses:
"the mediums change, but the message stays the same"
"it's not about how or who...it's about what"
"truth is truth; right is right; wrong is wrong"
sure
except, of course, when how we say something, when how we look, how we live, how we act, how we move, and where we speak changes the meaning of our words for those on the receiving end of..
our truth
our way
our life
"truth is offensive"
"the gospel is offensive"
sure
but why are you yelling at me?
all these words beg the writing of just a few more:
"why do we speak?"
for the sake of the message or its recipient? or better yet:
for the sake of the messenger?
maybe, in order to avoid or eliminate these incongruities, we should eliminate the mediums
like reading emails or letters
but maybe you respond to these like i do:
"what are they trying to say?"
"is that sarcasm, or are they legitimately angry?"
"did they mean to put that in ALL CAPS, and if so WHY ARE THEY YELLING AT ME?"
or maybe we were always meant to be the meaning of our words
because "love"; "right"; "wrong"; even "God" just don't mean the same without the medium
without eyes
without hands
and
without feet
so maybe we should stop asking what...and instead start asking how
or better yet,
who?
this statement reveals far more than merely the correctness of one position over that of another
it can be both a geographical location
or
the designation of a particular political ideology
it can free
or it can enslave
depending on how its said it can be
good
bad
or even ugly...
words are funny that way
it's almost as if they have more in common with stand ins...rather than the ones for whom they're holding a space
because depending on how you speak them
the emphasis
the articulation
the force
the glance or the glare behind and around the word
changes the meaning, the point of what we're uttering
how else can bad be good?
or good, bad?
how else can "i love you" mean anything but...love
perhaps in these instances what's important isn't the word, the place holder if you will, but rather who's doing the word-ing
in high school i had several friends who, for lack of a better "word", referred to one another as (insert the "n word")
how can a word with so much history, pain, degradation, shame, politic, and well, baggage, be spoken with such ease
such warmth
such grace?
so, being inquisitive, i asked what would happen if i were to use this moniker to address them:
in a word...pain
maybe it's always been about who's doing the speaking, and where they're speaking from...rather than what's being spoken
and maybe in the case of "right", and even "wrong"...it isn't the accuracy of these phrases, or even the baggage they carry with them that makes them so offensive
or so liberative
maybe its the baggage of who's doing the saying
of who's doing the "righting" and the "wronging"
that gives them their punch
or their pleasure
how else can "right" condemn, connote, criticize, or even create...
"you know what, you're right"
"i'm right"
"you're wrong...admit it"
i recently uttered and had these uttered to me as a result of, ironically enough, other words: and in light of this experience i came to some conclusions:
sometimes "i'm right" doesn't seem quite as impactful coming from clenched fists, red faces, and angry stares
sometimes "you're wrong" doesn't quite land how one might intend when spoken between rolled eyes, and huffs not seen since middle school.
sometimes "i'm a christian" isn't very freeing when everyone who's not is afraid to tell you
sometimes "Jesus is the only way" doesn't seem all that true when we say it with fingers in our ears, and eyes closed tight to the responses of those with whom we're speaking
maybe "you're right"
and
maybe "i'm wrong"
but maybe the fact that you're arms are crossed and there's spittle on your lip says far more than your angry stammerings are attempting to explain
some responses:
"the mediums change, but the message stays the same"
"it's not about how or who...it's about what"
"truth is truth; right is right; wrong is wrong"
sure
except, of course, when how we say something, when how we look, how we live, how we act, how we move, and where we speak changes the meaning of our words for those on the receiving end of..
our truth
our way
our life
"truth is offensive"
"the gospel is offensive"
sure
but why are you yelling at me?
all these words beg the writing of just a few more:
"why do we speak?"
for the sake of the message or its recipient? or better yet:
for the sake of the messenger?
maybe, in order to avoid or eliminate these incongruities, we should eliminate the mediums
like reading emails or letters
but maybe you respond to these like i do:
"what are they trying to say?"
"is that sarcasm, or are they legitimately angry?"
"did they mean to put that in ALL CAPS, and if so WHY ARE THEY YELLING AT ME?"
or maybe we were always meant to be the meaning of our words
because "love"; "right"; "wrong"; even "God" just don't mean the same without the medium
without eyes
without hands
and
without feet
so maybe we should stop asking what...and instead start asking how
or better yet,
who?
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
lost in the weeds...
on fuller's campus there are two "social clubs"
one being the pasadena university club
and the other being the pasadena women's club
awesome is the word you're looking for
nothing says i'm in graduate school quite like almost getting hit by cars that cost more than you'll make in a lifetime on your way to a school that owns most if not all of your soul
the women's club shares a front lawn with fuller, as it is right between the school of psychology and faculty offices
the other day as i was walking to work i noticed that the women's club had constructed a white picket fence all the way around their patch of grass...that upon further glance doesn't look any different from the rest of the grass they had ceded from
the only difference was that it was "theirs"
and that the rest of the grass belonged to us plebians
again...awesome is the only articulation for this experience
now as i passed by this fence 2 or 3 times i kept wondering to myself...
does wilson from dennis the menace run the women's city club?
or
perhaps the club is just filled with truly desperate housewives
or
maybe they just needed to be right, to be different, to be better. and many times the best way to do this to build a fence
and if that's the case can i really fault them?
for fencing themselves in?
for separating?
for isolating?
fences keep dogs, cats, even dissent at bay
sometimes our fences become so tall that we have hard time remembering what it was like on the outside
kind of like prison
maybe the goal is to forget the things that linked you to the rest of the world, to root out those tendencies, those reminders of where you came from, and who you were.
i guess that's why we work so hard to protect and defend our answers
building the fence higher and higher so that once you've finally climbed to the top
once you've put in the work
the effort
once you've learned the vocabulary, not to mention the answers
because once you can finally see down the other side of the fence the strange realization rises inside of you: that you've seen this grass before
but you've put in all that work
you've climbed, and thought, and worked, and struggled to get over the fence and now that you have
it has to be different, it has to be better, we have to better
to make it worth the climb
worth the effort
"our faith is stronger"
"our book is true-er"
"our god is bigger"
...but unfortunately the only way that we've learned how to be right is to rope off
segregate
and prove others wrong
because if they're like us
if they're the same
and they didn't work,
didn't struggle up the fence...how can we be right, how can we be different, how can we be better?
how can any of this be worth it?
when faced with this dilemma we have two options:
one is to write off all dissenting opinion, in essence to remember why you built the fence the first place...to protect our grass
the other is to reject our effort, the fence, and most times, even the grass (even though we continue to be surrounded by it's presence)
but neither of these options really seems to satisfy, i guess that's why some call the resurrection the great, divine "neither"
what if, when posed with this either/or we simply answered "yes"
"that grass is the same as ours"...yes
"there's a reason i worked so hard to get here"...yes
instead of building
roping off
demarcating the boundaries
what if we expanded
encompassed
and with the spirit of this "neither" merely posed another question
not "who's in and who's out"
not "who's right and who's wrong"
not "where are you?"
but rather "where are you not?"
because from our vantage point, the grass all seems to look the same and maybe that's okay
maybe our job isn't to convince others that our grass is really inherently any better than theirs
maybe its more about showing that their grass
our grass
everyone's grass is really your grass
and that some are open to that more than others
ultimately when we embrace this kind of spirit we're okay with not knowing where the edges,
the boundaries, or
the fences are.
because we realize that's not our job...it's yours
and when you free us from trying to be or create you
we start to find and to see you in the strangest of places
in others
in ourselves
and
...even the pasadena women's club
one being the pasadena university club
and the other being the pasadena women's club
awesome is the word you're looking for
nothing says i'm in graduate school quite like almost getting hit by cars that cost more than you'll make in a lifetime on your way to a school that owns most if not all of your soul
the women's club shares a front lawn with fuller, as it is right between the school of psychology and faculty offices
the other day as i was walking to work i noticed that the women's club had constructed a white picket fence all the way around their patch of grass...that upon further glance doesn't look any different from the rest of the grass they had ceded from
the only difference was that it was "theirs"
and that the rest of the grass belonged to us plebians
again...awesome is the only articulation for this experience
now as i passed by this fence 2 or 3 times i kept wondering to myself...
does wilson from dennis the menace run the women's city club?
or
perhaps the club is just filled with truly desperate housewives
or
maybe they just needed to be right, to be different, to be better. and many times the best way to do this to build a fence
and if that's the case can i really fault them?
for fencing themselves in?
for separating?
for isolating?
fences keep dogs, cats, even dissent at bay
sometimes our fences become so tall that we have hard time remembering what it was like on the outside
kind of like prison
maybe the goal is to forget the things that linked you to the rest of the world, to root out those tendencies, those reminders of where you came from, and who you were.
i guess that's why we work so hard to protect and defend our answers
building the fence higher and higher so that once you've finally climbed to the top
once you've put in the work
the effort
once you've learned the vocabulary, not to mention the answers
because once you can finally see down the other side of the fence the strange realization rises inside of you: that you've seen this grass before
but you've put in all that work
you've climbed, and thought, and worked, and struggled to get over the fence and now that you have
it has to be different, it has to be better, we have to better
to make it worth the climb
worth the effort
"our faith is stronger"
"our book is true-er"
"our god is bigger"
...but unfortunately the only way that we've learned how to be right is to rope off
segregate
and prove others wrong
because if they're like us
if they're the same
and they didn't work,
didn't struggle up the fence...how can we be right, how can we be different, how can we be better?
how can any of this be worth it?
when faced with this dilemma we have two options:
one is to write off all dissenting opinion, in essence to remember why you built the fence the first place...to protect our grass
the other is to reject our effort, the fence, and most times, even the grass (even though we continue to be surrounded by it's presence)
but neither of these options really seems to satisfy, i guess that's why some call the resurrection the great, divine "neither"
what if, when posed with this either/or we simply answered "yes"
"that grass is the same as ours"...yes
"there's a reason i worked so hard to get here"...yes
instead of building
roping off
demarcating the boundaries
what if we expanded
encompassed
and with the spirit of this "neither" merely posed another question
not "who's in and who's out"
not "who's right and who's wrong"
not "where are you?"
but rather "where are you not?"
because from our vantage point, the grass all seems to look the same and maybe that's okay
maybe our job isn't to convince others that our grass is really inherently any better than theirs
maybe its more about showing that their grass
our grass
everyone's grass is really your grass
and that some are open to that more than others
ultimately when we embrace this kind of spirit we're okay with not knowing where the edges,
the boundaries, or
the fences are.
because we realize that's not our job...it's yours
and when you free us from trying to be or create you
we start to find and to see you in the strangest of places
in others
in ourselves
and
...even the pasadena women's club
Thursday, April 9, 2009
the family business...
my dad's a salesman
he's been one his whole life
his dad was a salesman
was one for most of his life
door to door
city to city
state to state
it's the family business
some of you are doctors
lawyers
accountants
teachers
coaches
and so were your moms and dads
once its in your blood
your DNA
it's almost as if anything you try to do to fight against the impulse
the urge
the pull...only wears you out
enabling the current to pull you out to sea
this is all we know...so we acquire the appropriate words
sentences
even feelings for our impending fate
"it's who we are"
"it's easier"
"it's safer"
"the path's well worn"
all the while we wonder if there was something else
something more?
"only the young have energy for thoughts like these"
and by thoughts you could probably just as well insert "imaginative frivolity"
so we buckle down
we focus
and we work
when we finally have time to pause and lift up our heads we discover...
that we're much older these days
that it hurts when we run
that the term "holding pattern" has been replaced with "career"
...that we look a lot like our parents
for some of us this realization is what we always wanted
that is to become the one we could never please
because maybe they might finally approve of what they see in us...themselves
for others the feeling more closely resembles what happens when elevators quickly rise without warning
...causing us to lose our stomachs again, and again, and again
it's in these moments that we truly define who it is that we are
for me i never wanted to go door to door or state to state
i never wanted to create need in another
i never wanted to sell myself
i never wanted to work on commission
i never wanted to convince
coerce
or cajole...anything
but when i look at myself in the mirror these days the questions rise up from the sink again
and again
and again
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"let me tell you what you need..."
"god has a wonderful plan for your life..."
"you know that guilt you're feeling, well that's sin..."
"we've decided to go ahead with this building project so we'll ask you to faithfully give over and above what you're already committed to..."
"join..."
"decide..."
"confess..."
again
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
maybe...
but its these bathroom mirror moments that define us
...not yet
he's been one his whole life
his dad was a salesman
was one for most of his life
door to door
city to city
state to state
it's the family business
some of you are doctors
lawyers
accountants
teachers
coaches
and so were your moms and dads
once its in your blood
your DNA
it's almost as if anything you try to do to fight against the impulse
the urge
the pull...only wears you out
enabling the current to pull you out to sea
this is all we know...so we acquire the appropriate words
sentences
even feelings for our impending fate
"it's who we are"
"it's easier"
"it's safer"
"the path's well worn"
all the while we wonder if there was something else
something more?
"only the young have energy for thoughts like these"
and by thoughts you could probably just as well insert "imaginative frivolity"
so we buckle down
we focus
and we work
when we finally have time to pause and lift up our heads we discover...
that we're much older these days
that it hurts when we run
that the term "holding pattern" has been replaced with "career"
...that we look a lot like our parents
for some of us this realization is what we always wanted
that is to become the one we could never please
because maybe they might finally approve of what they see in us...themselves
for others the feeling more closely resembles what happens when elevators quickly rise without warning
...causing us to lose our stomachs again, and again, and again
it's in these moments that we truly define who it is that we are
for me i never wanted to go door to door or state to state
i never wanted to create need in another
i never wanted to sell myself
i never wanted to work on commission
i never wanted to convince
coerce
or cajole...anything
but when i look at myself in the mirror these days the questions rise up from the sink again
and again
and again
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"let me tell you what you need..."
"god has a wonderful plan for your life..."
"you know that guilt you're feeling, well that's sin..."
"we've decided to go ahead with this building project so we'll ask you to faithfully give over and above what you're already committed to..."
"join..."
"decide..."
"confess..."
again
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
"am i a salesman?"
maybe...
but its these bathroom mirror moments that define us
...not yet
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
texas forever...
i visited texas recently to see some friends and a wedding
not only did i see things blue and borrowed
but also longhorns on city streets, trucks with step ladders, and cigarette smoke...everywhere
i also ate mexican (twice), slept on a pull out sofa, and went to church
now i already have a hard enough time going to church these days...but texas?
two words...jim bakker
i just can't seem to get fired up for it anymore, church that is
maybe its the way it smells...like burnt coffee and hairspray
or the way it looks...like a castle or a business park
or even the way it feels...like a bad concert where everyone loves the band...but me or like those first few days of class in undergrad where they spend the full hour talking about the scientific method
or maybe i've just been having trouble with the fact that church these days ends up coming off more like a pyramid scheme where everyone's already invested too much to pull out...desperation rather than inspiration
lately it just seems to me that we're all keeping at it in hopes that maybe we'll mean it one day
or that we'll feel it
or even that we'll smell it
sometimes it feels like we're trying so hard that it doesn't matter what happens
and that it doesn't even matter that nothing we're doing or feeling is normal (maybe the absence of feeling is more accurate)
so to avoid these types of moments we spend more
we shut our eyes tighter, raise our hands higher, we might even take our shoes off in an effort to rekindle the fire
the flame
the feeling
and it struck me as I was sitting there in a texas church that looked more john eldridge than st. john
and listening to a pastor i didn't agree with do what i've accused more pastors of these days than i care to admit...that being: "violence to everything i believe in."
being cynical is always a lot of fun...
it's kind of like the time i watched dodgeball the movie with several of my friends
and as they sat there laughing all i could think was "these people are the reason that America's Funniest Home Videos is still on the air"
now you might say "i like that movie"
"ben stiller is hilarious"
obviously you're wrong...so were my friends
maybe all those afv voters laughing hysterically around me just understand good comedy...i doubt it
maybe i'm too serious to admit it...closer
maybe i'm too smart for my own good...or maybe (in reality) i'm not that smart to begin with
and maybe all those people filing into those castles and business parks on sunday know something i never will
maybe they mean it
maybe they feel it
maybe they even smell it...although it's hard not to, burnt coffee smells like someone shoved a cat into a toaster
and maybe i'm the only one getting duped
but i just can't seem to mean it
to feel it
to know it
so i cross my arms and roll my eyes...waiting on divine conclusion to yet another disappointing sunday
but then a smile creeps in as i watch them laugh (for the record ben stiller isn't funny...this is a metaphor)
i smile a little more (why is he throwing wrenches?)
i even start to laugh a little bit...but instantly judgment creeps in
"this isn't funny"
"these people don't know comedy"
"the royal tenebaums, now that's comedy"
but why is it that these people all seem like they're having a lot of fun...whereas i look like i have to go to the bathroom on an airplane
so i let go, if only for a moment:
and i laugh, and laugh, and laugh
and i overlook the cliches, and the cheesy delivery, and the overplayed soundtrack
...even the big hair
and in doing so i start to realize that i always did like movies like these
and that the audience is made up mostly of people i consider my friends
i'm glad it took a trip to dallas (the city not the soap opera) for me to discover that maybe i'm the one whose boring
or fake
or trying too hard
...now that's comedy
not only did i see things blue and borrowed
but also longhorns on city streets, trucks with step ladders, and cigarette smoke...everywhere
i also ate mexican (twice), slept on a pull out sofa, and went to church
now i already have a hard enough time going to church these days...but texas?
two words...jim bakker
i just can't seem to get fired up for it anymore, church that is
maybe its the way it smells...like burnt coffee and hairspray
or the way it looks...like a castle or a business park
or even the way it feels...like a bad concert where everyone loves the band...but me or like those first few days of class in undergrad where they spend the full hour talking about the scientific method
or maybe i've just been having trouble with the fact that church these days ends up coming off more like a pyramid scheme where everyone's already invested too much to pull out...desperation rather than inspiration
lately it just seems to me that we're all keeping at it in hopes that maybe we'll mean it one day
or that we'll feel it
or even that we'll smell it
sometimes it feels like we're trying so hard that it doesn't matter what happens
and that it doesn't even matter that nothing we're doing or feeling is normal (maybe the absence of feeling is more accurate)
so to avoid these types of moments we spend more
we shut our eyes tighter, raise our hands higher, we might even take our shoes off in an effort to rekindle the fire
the flame
the feeling
and it struck me as I was sitting there in a texas church that looked more john eldridge than st. john
and listening to a pastor i didn't agree with do what i've accused more pastors of these days than i care to admit...that being: "violence to everything i believe in."
being cynical is always a lot of fun...
it's kind of like the time i watched dodgeball the movie with several of my friends
and as they sat there laughing all i could think was "these people are the reason that America's Funniest Home Videos is still on the air"
now you might say "i like that movie"
"ben stiller is hilarious"
obviously you're wrong...so were my friends
maybe all those afv voters laughing hysterically around me just understand good comedy...i doubt it
maybe i'm too serious to admit it...closer
maybe i'm too smart for my own good...or maybe (in reality) i'm not that smart to begin with
and maybe all those people filing into those castles and business parks on sunday know something i never will
maybe they mean it
maybe they feel it
maybe they even smell it...although it's hard not to, burnt coffee smells like someone shoved a cat into a toaster
and maybe i'm the only one getting duped
but i just can't seem to mean it
to feel it
to know it
so i cross my arms and roll my eyes...waiting on divine conclusion to yet another disappointing sunday
but then a smile creeps in as i watch them laugh (for the record ben stiller isn't funny...this is a metaphor)
i smile a little more (why is he throwing wrenches?)
i even start to laugh a little bit...but instantly judgment creeps in
"this isn't funny"
"these people don't know comedy"
"the royal tenebaums, now that's comedy"
but why is it that these people all seem like they're having a lot of fun...whereas i look like i have to go to the bathroom on an airplane
so i let go, if only for a moment:
and i laugh, and laugh, and laugh
and i overlook the cliches, and the cheesy delivery, and the overplayed soundtrack
...even the big hair
and in doing so i start to realize that i always did like movies like these
and that the audience is made up mostly of people i consider my friends
i'm glad it took a trip to dallas (the city not the soap opera) for me to discover that maybe i'm the one whose boring
or fake
or trying too hard
...now that's comedy
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