Life

Becoming a Better Friend/Leaving All My Friends

It’s June 5th; this means we have 25 sunny (foggy) days left in California. Time has been flying. I didn’t quite realize how fast it was flying until June 1st came around. Really? It’s June???

It hit me like a pile of time bricks… if that’s a thing…

Five of our six California months have been spent. Geez… In a few days we’ll be flying to Rochester to look for places to stay. When we get back we’ll have another couple weeks here; sooner or later, though, July 1st will roll around and I’ll have to say goodbye to all my California friends and family once more.

July 1st we drive back to Idaho to square up our belongings; sometime in August we’ll make—what I’m dubbing—The Great Drive.

(Confused? About Me is a good place to go to catch up)

Good at Leaving

About four years ago I left California for Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. It was there I met my wife, started school, and got really cold. Originally, I was looking for a change of pace. I used to say, “God called me to Idaho;” truthfully, our signal has never been that strong. I just sort of ended up there.

Every time I leave California, whether it be a weekend visit, six month stay, or major life move, I’m reminded of the friendships I have here. The term friend doesn’t really cut it as much as the term family does.

There’s times where I feel just as connected to Randall, Patrick, Scott, Justin, Timmy, both Aaron Boyds, as I would my own brother or sister. Generally, these people have always been there for me. As I get older, I realize how much I’ve taken them for granted. These goofy, weird people.

Friendships Never Sink

When I was younger I assumed the world existed for my benefit. I thought my friends were suppose to be some sort of accessory—something that benefited me in the way I talked, looked, and spent my time. Consequently, I took way more than I received.

Remember that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon dumps all of her problems on to Kenneth, and then Kenneth goes crazy and needs therapy? I think that’s what I did to the majority of my friends. I really wouldn’t be surprised if they were all in therapy.

That said, I’m trying to be a better friend. I’m trying to be a better person, in general. I’m hoping to give more than I take. This includes listening more than talking, or not turning every conversation into something about me.

My friends have stood by me all these years, despite my selfishness. I hope I will get the opportunity to stand by them someday.

We’re starting to get a little older; responsibilities are starting to pile up. But when we get together, we still laugh as much as ever. We pick up right where we left off and I feel at home.

I guess, what I’m getting at, is that I don’t want to leave my friends again. I know that I’ll have to, but this time it wont be as easy.

Cheezy Friendship Gallery

A few photos, recent and old. I guess I’m being emotional or something.

2013: Patrick, Randall, and I

2013

2013, Kevin & The Wonder Years reunion jam

2013: Beard and some Randall

2009: Ireland Trip

2008: Timmy & Garrett sing me a goodbye song

Kevin & the Wonder Years (Last show, I think?)

2007 or 08: 80s Party

2006 or 07: Me and Timmy,

Sometime 2004 or earlier

Adulthood: Embracing the Now & Forgetting the Why

One can’t help but get a little older. Wives are good for nothing if not for telling you how old you are. Megan reminds me of this all the time: “You’re two years older.”

“And wiser,” I respond.

Despite the rabid pace at which youth escapes my body, I expect some of the mannerisms and routines that accompanied my early years will always be with me.

The sample tables at Costco are primary. Shopping is second… at best. There’s others like me, too. Yesterday, I ran into the same sample shopper at every table. We nodded.

My attention span is weak, like coffee from the church foyer weak. At any given time, I’m usually half present and I apologize for this; I’m trying, really. This will probably be a lifelong struggle. Bare with me.

I say weird things at awkward moments. That is, the moment is fine until I make it awkward. Once, I worked at a hotel and checked in a guest. During the silence I asked if he met any ladies on his trip. He was a priest and promptly said, “no.”

You see what I mean. I’m sure you do weird things too. I know you do. The crazy little brain movements and body patterns are just part of the human experience. You probably rant in the bathroom with strange accents or something. I can only guess.

We are all just grown up kids. (No one has refuted me yet!) As adults we can choose when we want to be a child, that’s the coolest part. I mean, haven’t you seen Hook? (You’re doing it, Peter!)

As we get older, we pretend this stuff doesn’t exist. The weird mannerisms. The strange facial expressions. The awkward moments. After all, we’re adults now and there’s bills to pay. We have kids and jobs and degrees. There’s no time to be ourselves anymore.

Don’t Start Eating Boogers Yet

It’s okay to have responsibilities; in fact, I rather like them. There’s men and women who meet the challenge of adulthood at every turn and I respect them.

I learned responsibilities from an early age; most older people around me were too busy beings kids so I had to step it up in their absence. Sometimes people never grow up, because of them I now struggle with letting my hair down on the weekends, or being myself.

I’m convinced, though, that every now and then we need to embrace the child within. We need to be ourselves. Not revert back, but just be ourselves. We need to allow who we are to shine and forget about the future for a change.

We need to embrace God’s greatest present—the present.

I’m sure we could all use a little more of that.

Road Trip

This weekend, Megan and I decided to be irresponsible. With two days notice, and a very inspiring episode of Parks and Rec to motivate us, we’ve decided to visit the Grand Canyon on a whim.

We have little money, a car that’s traveled too much this year already, and a severe lack of camping material; needless to say, we’re excited. My good friend Randall, who you may remember from Salmon Creek Trail, will be joining us.

It’s Friday. Go do something fun this weekend. Enjoy the present! Embrace the kid within you and report back to me. You may find adulthood to be a little more interesting when you do.

What are your thoughts on God’s gift of the present? Is it dangerous to focus too much on the past or the future? Any good stories of embracing the kid within? How about Grand Canyon advice?

That One Time the Roof Caved in on Me

Memories from my past bubble to the surface every now and then. At times, they feel larger than life—tall-tale even, like in Big Fish. Since taking Psychology 101 last year, some memories have become suspect.

There’s this one memory I have; the one where the ceiling caves in on me. Until recently, I wasn’t sure it was real. I asked my older brother about it. In the memory, he’s the one who carries me to safety.

Quickly, here’s the memory:

It’s an old white house in Paso Robles, California. Two stories, maybe, just one. I’m eight years old or so and scared to death of the Daddy Long Leg spiders that inhabit every corner of every room in the house. Everything is dirty and dusty. I hate it here.

“Kevin,” he yells. I wake up. The air is thick with dust and drywall; broken wood is everywhere. In fact, my bed is covered with it. I look over to my brother, standing beside the bed. He’s laughing. “You slept through it,” he says and laughs again.

Everything is confusing; I’m paralyzed with fear and can’t move. The next thing I know, my brother is carrying me out of our room and into the kitchen where everybody is listening to music and eating popsicles.

Party

My early years were quite… different than most. After the parents split up, my dad moved us around a lot. Life got weird. Shady, actually, is a better term.

We were those obnoxious, trashy neighbors. The ones with the loud, late night parties, or fights that ended with clothes on the lawn and the cops being called. That was us.

Sorry neighbors.

“They were partying in the next room,” my brother said. Last year, we reminisced about our childhood and I asked him about this event. “We came out of the room,” he continued, “covered from head to toe in drywall dust. No one knew it happened. I think it was the music that caused the ceiling to fall. The bass.”

“And I slept through it?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “you slept right through it. I thought you were dead.”

Guardian Angles

It seems a little self-absorbed to claim this event as a miracle of God. Honestly, I’m really not that important. It could’ve just been dumb luck.

Still though, I think back to the broken wood in and around my bed—some pieces large and quite dangerous. All I know is that the ceiling caved in, one ugly night in Paso Robles, California, and two young boys were spared.

In times like these, I’m reminded that I need to live my life in a worthy way. Not because I survived my childhood or because a ceiling caved in on me, but because I was born at all.

Life is an opportunity and everyday among it a unique gift. Don’t wait for tomorrow or you may just get crushed to death by your own ceiling.

“If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die.”

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ranopamas/2427904151/

What are your thoughts? Do you have any good memories from your childhood you suspect are false? What is your response to living life as a gift?

Fumbling Through the Brouhaha (My 100th Post)

Today marks a very special occasion for me. My 100th blog post!!! Booya. Someone call WIllard Scott.

Warning: This post is highly self-indulgent.

I began blogging almost three years ago. I’d fit it in where I could (usually between music, school, and church). My creative spurts functioned like runners in a game of Red Light/Green Light; sometimes I’d post weekly, other times monthly.

Considering the quality of my early work, I am forever grateful for the encouragement received from friends and family. Looking back, I now see their kindess; my early work really is quite atrocious. The term wordy doesn’t do justice—maybe, blob job?

Last October, I committed myself to a schedule: post three times a week, and stay under 500 words each time, 400 if possible.

It’s been tough to keep up. I often find my desires for blogging bested by bowls of Cheetos and Netflix, fantasy football losses, calculus crazed mental breakdowns, or sad attempts at yoga.

I read some books that helped. Michael Hyatt’s Platform was instrumental to my journey. He has a saying, regarding consistent output, that I really like: “Readers lead and leaders read.”

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Herman Hesse, Michael Crichton, and the various writers of the Bible. WordPress itself is another deep well to draw from: Tony from A Way With Words, Nate from Breaking the Silence, Adeline from Dancing In The Storm, to name a few.

Making it to 100 is very special. It’s strange, but a new confidence exists within me. I no longer covet other blogger’s writing styles and their followers. Instead, I’ve come to appreciate honest work on all ends of the spectrum. One could say, I’ve fumbled through the brouhaha and found myself on the other side; I found a voice within me that is all my own.

From here I grow, I learn, I contribute. If I’m lucky, I’ll make a big splash someday.

Looking Back, It’s Not All Bad

Consumer Zombies on Record Store Day

5 Reasons to Stay a Christian

Internet Fasting: My Googless Week

Little Wins

Fly Fishing: The First Outing

8-Bits of Frustration: None I Tend to Let Go

Thanks be to God for teaching and giving grace. Thanks to every reader for the comments, likes, and shares. Without your feedback, I would’ve quit long ago.

Fearing Fear and Then Punching Fear in The Face

I remember standing in line at Space Mountain, Disneyland—six years old or so. My older brother and sister were there, maybe my mom. Yeah, definitely my mom.

Knees buckling. Tears building. Fear grabbing.

Space Mountain? Could there be so terrible a place? My brother was pushing me along in line; this was not a good sign. He was always trying to get rid of me. What evil plan had he concocted now?

Escape. I had to. Closer and closer we inched, past the TVs and the red, terrifying flashing lights. Finally, it came. The exit door. After an hour, we were so close to getting on the ride.

I could just do it, I thought, go on the ride. Would I really fall out?

I looked left and saw the exit sign, then to the right towards a deeper entrance to the ride, then to my brother who was evilly nodding his head. Now or never, I thought.

Tears bottled up, I went for it. Running as fast as I could towards the door, kids laughed behind me and I heard my brother yell. I bursted through the exit; bright-white concrete sun blinded my eyes and I collapsed on concrete—crying my head off.

New Fears, Old Chum

For those of you who may have missed the news, Rochester, New York is now officially in our sights. Scholarships and grants came through in a big way from the University there. We’ll be moving sometime in summer.

See kids, dreams do come true.

It’s bittersweet, really. We’ll be leaving San Luis Obispo—SLO town—and I love it here. I grew up here. I moved away for a number of years; since we, my wife and I, moved back, our time here has been well spent and well loved.

Old chums, new pals, boogie boards, farmers market, breakfast burritos—reconnecting.

All good things come to an end? I guess; new things can be good too. Also scary.

Fear, get out of my face.

It’s too easy to fall into fear’s trap. We listen to the negative over the positive; we cave in and take the easy way out. The greatest, most terrible side-effect of fear is that it keeps us from doing what we love: accomplishing goals, moving across country, or say, eating octopus.

What if fear was just a tool that we could use for our gain? Recently, I’ve come to terms with fear. Well, I’m trying to at least. See, fear isn’t some trick of the devil. It isn’t Satan’s test. It’s just a test.

Without fear, personal cost couldn’t be measured. For example, would the water be as sweet if I didn’t fear jumping off the rock? Would it even be worth it? I’m starting to wonder.

I encourage you to embrace fear for what it is: a mere tool. Use it for YOUR gain. Mark your dreams by how much they scare you, then reach for the scariest one.

When fear over steps its boundaries, punch it in the face and go on the ride. Space Mountain is totally worth it.

Photo Credit Top [http://www.flickr.com/photos/disneyworldsecets/2768351879/]

Photo Credit Bottom [http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeandy/47529326/]

Versatile Blogger Award!

Well, well, well. Looksy what eye’s got here. A bloddy blawgah award! (Can you tell I’m in a good mood?)

I was recently nominated for a Versatile Blogger Award by Adeline from Dancing in the Storm. She writes a great blog about her faith, her marriage, and her missionary work. She says that writing keeps her “grounded,” reading her posts does the same for me. Thanks Adeline!

Embarrassingly I must admit, a couple months ago I was nominated for this by Tony from his amazing blog, A Way With Words. Tony, thank you. I’m sorry this took me so long! Simply, your blog inspires me to be a better writer.

To accept the award, I have to tell Adeline and Tony seven things about me. Let’s keep this brief.

Seven About Kevin

1. I started the year in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho; the next day moved to San Luis Obispo, California. By Fall, Rochester, New York will be my home.

2. Science fiction is my favorite fiction genre. I grew up watching The X-Files, and reading books about UFOs and conspiracy theories. I’m currently reading Sphere by Michael Crichton and it’s awesome.

3. I never wanted to sing, nor have I ever been good at it. Yet, I’ve fronted a local rock band AND led worship at various churches through the years. The microphone has always had it out for me.

4. Singer/Songwriters that inspire me: Denison Witmer, Ben Folds, The Avett Brothers.

5. Oddly enough, Ecclesiastes is my favorite book in the bible.

6. I’m married to a great girl named Megan. She puts sunscreen on my back. The beach and I have since reunited.

7. Favorite Movies: The Truman Show, Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade, A Bronx Tale, Empire Strikes Back, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Fifteen I’ve Nominated

Around the time Tony nominated me, I had just taken up blogging again (at least, on a consistent basis). I wasn’t really sure what a blog award was.

Also, I was a wordpress hermit—there weren’t 15 other bloggers I knew to nominate.

Times have changed; we have microwave ovens now. I read more than I write, and I’m writing better because of it. The best part of this award is that I get to give this gift that was graciously given to me.

Here you go; you all deserve this (in no order):

1. Immortal Nobody

2. ArcSurf

3. Wild Magik II

4. Dream A Lot Louder

9. The Misfit Christian

10. Roots Like Oaks

11. Mark Block