The first time I went to New York City

The first time I went to New York City
I felt like I had been born.
Surrounded by the spectrum of humanity
in a single subway car.

I wondered if I had ever really known the world before.
The energy and vibrancy was like nothing I had ever experienced.
It was like this big party that had been going on for years,
and I had just now finally shown up.

Bench seats where you're happy to sit next to someone else.
And sidewalk strides are studied as you meditate on the heals before you.
I wondered if anyone from New York City could ever be shy or afraid of people.
I wondered what I would be like if I was from New York City,
If I wouldn't by so shy and afraid of people.

Churchy

It's weird searching for a new church... some seem too "churchy" and others not "churchy" enough.  I don't know if "churchy" is a word, but regardless, I'm trying to find the right amount of it.

The Hard Truths of Finger Dancing Season

I guess Summer is officially over.  Nothing makes my fingers dance like the rain drops do, apparently.  I just realized I just published my first words on my blog for the first time in 4 months.

If I were a good writer, I could reason it's the power of God channeling right down through the rain drops onto my paper.

You know how some people are like, "I don't know where those words came from, they just showed up on the page."  Some divinely inspired words.  The screen writer of the movie "Brave Heart" said he goes to bed every night praying about what he is going to write in the morning.

That's not me.

Make life sweet, a love ballad to my favorite beverages

I celebrate the sunrise every morning with 2 mugs of coffee, and the sunset every night with 2 mugs of beer.

Different types of mugs.

I fill em up and I sip em dry, both the same way.  1 sip at a time.

In the same ritualistic fashion- slowly.

When I was in 10th grade in Mr. Moberly's Drama class I did a monologue about how drinking black coffee makes you manly.  "You think Clint Eastwood ever took 2 sugars and a cream?  Of course not!  Cause Clint Eastwood is a man, and real men drink black coffee."

Its been 6 months now

Its been 6 months now,
and what's more painful is the lessening pain.
Somehow, before, all the tears felt so right;
like righteousness on Sundays.

I cry less,
and scream out less;
on the outside.
Which makes me sadder on the inside.

Funny I guess.

Tree ringed coffee mugs

There is only one letter of difference in the spelling of the words "laughter" and "slaughter".  Yet their meanings are vastly different.  This reminds me of the often weighed tension of judging events as a blessing or a curse.

Hearsay says that the grass is always greener on the other side, but I met someone who has been there, and they said that grass was too much upkeep.

I started collecting coffee mugs so that I can sip down the memories from my life after I'm too old to do anything else.

Rule at life rule #49

If you're not enjoying a book stop reading it.  There are too many millions of books in the world to drag your eyes through a lemon.

Whether it's a blessing or a curse is debatable

Whether it's a blessing or a curse is debatable.  I'm a planner, a thinker, and obsessor.

Failures and successes rarely catch me by surprise, as there are few angles I don't consider before they happen.

My counselor asked me why do you give power to these fantasies?  I think he was patronizing me.

He said life is like a game of chess, and you needn't need consider your next move until life has made its next move.

Rule at life rule #28

Leave the party last.  You'll have a better chance of scoring leftovers.

The first time I used my magic wand

Realtors have a magical key that gets them into any house in the entire world.  I've never seen Harry Potter, but I'm guessing the Realtor key is basically the equivalent of Harry's wand.

When I first got my Real Estate key I was extremely excited to put my snazzy new powers to use.  All I needed was someone to show houses to.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and Christmas had finally come in the form of a phone call from an old co-worker.

What!  You want me to show you a house?!

No... said Travis, I actually need you to let me into a house... my house... that's already for sale... that I'm locked out of.


Oh.

Now this wasn't the picturesque first magical key use I'd been dreaming of.  I even almost said no.

Milking Conferences

I'm not talking about conferences on milking (Do those exist?), I'm taking about getting the most out of a conference.

I've heard it said, "Education without implementation is just plain entertainment."

Information overload is a polite description of the intensity I've experienced at most conferences.

I've been reflecting on this since returning from a 2 day conference last week, wondering how do I best make sense of all the madness?

I realized the key for me is going 3 deep:

Level one: Letting the stuff hit me as it comes, scribbling notes like a mad man as I do my best imitation of a sponge during the actual conference.

My wife knows more about cars than I do

A car enthusiast was showing my wife and I some photos of some cars he was working on.  I admitted to him that Esther knows much more about cars than I do.

He asked if that was ever embarrassing.

mmmh, I shoulder shrugged a "whatever" response.

In hindsight, I really like the fact that Esther knows more about cars than me.

I like that we each know more about different things.  Not everything we know and are interested in are completely predictable cliche's.

Men are supposed to like football and know more about cars, and woman are supposed to cook and scrapbook.  That's fine if that's what you're into, but I think a lot of people are just insecure about breaking away from cultural expectations.

It's often easier to listen to the voice of others rather than your own.

Storyline, thoughts on living a spicier life

Clarifying something worthy of pursuing with your life will make your life into a better story, and therefore a better life.

This is the main idea I took away from "Storyline", founded by "Blue Like Jazz" author Don Miller.  Whether you encounter Storyline through a conference (like I recently did in San Diego), the book, or a small group, Storyline is all about helping people live better stories.                                                              
         

                                                    "The stories we live effect others.  

When you have a clear plan, people are inspired." -Don Miller

Don Miller

The main example Don used to not focus your life on, was something trivial, such as buying a Volvo.  If someone's main goal in life is buying a Volvo, and they work overtime and save up money to buy one, that's really not a very interesting story, or an interesting life.


"Some people are waiting to see what God does, but what if he's waiting to see what you do?" -Allison Vesterfelt



Now the people that spoke at the conference with the spotlight shining on them were leading naturally spicy lives.  That is to say, they were doing remarkably interesting things.  Starting schools to reform witch doctors, having 500 people over for dinner, having breakfast with Mel Gibson to discuss their screenplay "Braveheart", etc.

Thoughts on Self Promotion

When it comes to freelancing or being an entrepreneur, whether you're an artist or selling vacuum's, I have found that not many people are going to promote you better than you.

And if you're like me, this can be difficult.

Being no stranger to the task of self-promotion, I decided to quit pulling my hair out and outline some guidelines.

3 ways to self promote:

1.  Be Subtle.
No one likes an overbearing goodwill sucking in your face louder than life agenda driven loud mouth.  Stay Classy.

When to Start

The more I confess my desire to write a book, the more peers I come across who say they feel too young to start.

I feel too young to start, too.  My life experience is laughable in the presence of most, but I know there's so much more to becoming a good writer than the number of items you've checked off your bucket list. And I couldn't imagine how whimsically treacherous my life would be if I always only followed my feelings.

I believe like any art, or sport... or thing, you've got to start somewhere.  So why not now?

Anyone who has mastered anything started working towards it long ago.

Many respectable writers I have come across published their first books as young adults, or even as teens.  And they published, and published, and published.  They didn't wait until they felt qualified to release a single swan song at the end of their lives.  They seized the pen, the day, their idea, and they started.

If I had a dollar for every time I waited to do something when I was older, I certainly wouldn't be any richer.

Those Lines

I love those lines... 

The lines that wake you up when you didn't even know you were sleeping.

The ones that you instantly re-read; 

giving them a mental double-take, as if they were a mirage too good to be true. 

Those lines that stand out, like a single sun beam on a grey day.

They suddenly become illuminated right there on the page.

The ones that just don't feel right for the whole world to not know.

The ones that leave a circle on your mind like that of a tree line.

How to be Extremely Angry with Good Form

         My mischievous printer reminded me all too well today of how much I love (and sometimes envy) the scene from the movie "Office Space."  The irate office workers take their copy machine out to a field and teach it a lesson by completely annihilating it with a baseball bat.  My inner tranquility would typically give Ghandi a run for his money.  On the rare occasion my inner peace does get breached, though, I do try to leave baseball bats out of the equation.  Getting angry is easy, but controlling anger can be a bit trickier.  Here's a few ways I have found to healthily handle moments of extreme outrage:

1.  Punch things that can't break.  Have you ever broken a kleenex?  Of course not.  I would know, because I've been trying for years.  Kleenex, paper, napkins and the like, are some of my favorite things to take my anger out on.  They also make for a nice slow moving target when you throw them up in the air and give them a good right hook as they're slowly falling... just make sure no one is standing nearby that may fall victim to your impassioned Rocky impression.

Car Wash Rhythm

Thin blue ballerinas surround me, swooshing back and forth in perfect rhythm.

I am at peace.

I feel safe as the soap storm drowns my vessel.  

I do nothing, but somehow, so much is happening all around me.

So much is being accomplished.

Leaning back in my leather seat meditating on the sounds of soapy clockwork, somehow, I myself feel a sense of accomplishment.  A fulfilling peace.  I feel a glimpse of my futures aspirations, where effectiveness and results dance around me in synchronicity.  I do nothing, but somehow, everything is happening because of me.

As the monsoon ensues, washing my soapy thoughts away, I see the flashing "ready" light approaching.  The readiness asks me more questions than I know answers.

They say the most common regret among those on their death bed is not living a life that was true to themselves.  Will I share such regret?  The flashing "ready" light asks me more questions than I know answers.  The light flashes green with the word "go".  I rejoice.  Not because I have answers, but because at the end of it all, the cleansing has happened regardless.

The Internet is like Outer Space in Inner Earth

Words are like war.
They give life, cleanse, and kill.
Letters are the warriors of the front line.
Whose ammo stains unquestionably from orders of the pen.

Words are like art.
They give life, cleanse, and kill.
The pages are the canvas,
unintentionally altered for other purposes.

Words are like water.
They give life, cleanse, and kill.
The binding is the rain clouds,
who have never met non-judgement.

Saturday Morning

He stood there in a dazed stupor.  Wearing his Plush robe black as his last sip of coffee.  Covered in lint from laying in bed with his robe on again; he had told himself he was going to stop doing that.  Robes are like permanently attached giant blankets, though, as if one were already curled up in the large covers of a cozy bed.  Sometimes he just liked to make that transition seamless, jumping right under the covers still robed.  He regretted it every time, though.  It is quite difficult to roll over in bed when your lying on something loosely wrapped around your entire body; not to mention you'll be sweating uncomfortably in no time.  So inevitably, every time, the robe would be awkwardly wiggled out of from under the covers, like a magician escaping from a straight jacket.

It was Saturday.  The day with no expectations for work, but every expectation for himself.  If you're going to develop yourself, explore the world, become an astronaut, or do anything fancy in your free time, Saturday is the day to do it.  What pressure.

A Dream Renewed

They told him it was good to have dreams, like Martin Luther King.  He believed them, and he was chosen in front of the whole school to read his speech.  He felt really special, and saw something great, he was never the same after the 2nd grade.

First it was the toys he played with, then a sports star, no matter what his dream was, he always believed it with all his heart.  So it's no surprise by the time he was a teen, he had the rest of his life figured out, he found his ultimate dream.  For years he worked, he worked real hard, before he knew it, he'd grown into a young man living for the same charge.

Lost at the Y

It was crazy how crazy I felt.
Winding my prayers with the dark street, hoping it would connect.
It was already 7:02, I was mad at myself I didn't leave earlier.
You should always leave earlier when your going somewhere you've never gone before.
I didn't realize the oven was going to take so long to pre-heat my dinner.
"and I thought frozen pizza was supposed to be easy to cook",
I groaned, as I gave my fist a shook.

I felt so rushed I had missed the turn.
So now I'm hoping this back road, dark with anxiety will circle me in.
It was my first time going to this group; or to anything like this.

Thank You, Milltown

God has done much molding to my spiritual lens through Milltown over these past 4 years.  I am the person I am today, and living the life I'm living today, largely because of Milltown's influence on my life.  The way I view community, proximity, evangelism, vocation, Church, myself, going to the grocery store, and countless other things have all been radically shaped through my interactions with this small community.

Old Dull Brown Rubber Band

Lost in stories.
Their stories.
My stories.
Stories to be told and interpreted.
Created.
Imagined.
Lived out.

Recently I announced a quiet proclamation, "I want to be a writer!"
Except I've really only said it with an exclamation mark when I'm alone under my bed sheets.

Dance Lessons of the Soul

Sometimes I write things on my to do list after I have already done them just so I can scratch them off my list.  Regularly I do this, actually.  Which is pretty peculiar when I stop and consider it.

I wonder what other things are this way?  What else do I do, just to undo, for the sake of satisfaction, enjoyment, or accomplishment?  Buying a Christmas tree and decorating it, then taking it down 2 weeks later and throwing it away?  Making a ginger bread house that you never eat (no one ever eats those).  Going for a walk, you just leave the house and then come back, like a really slow boomerang.  I guess all the food we consume is kind of like that, too, since it all ends up coming out.

My Neighborhood Is Not Perfect

My house has been broken into twice in 2 years.  An unwanted tradition; we have an alarm system now.  The salvation army is around the corner where those who don't have houses to be broken into line up for food like a black Friday sale at Wal-Mart.  Although they're a little less excited, as if they know the best deals are already sold out.  A homeless woman sits as a permanent fixture outside the market a stones throw from my front door.  It's not even a good place to plop, but she's there every single day sitting in the dirt outside Wilson's Delicatessen's.

The house behind mine was condemned for drug manufacturing.  It has been sitting empty since I can remember.  There's a door up on the 2nd floor that has been wide open for a month.  I reported it to the police, but it's still just wide open, the same way you found the refrigerator door that one time.  Except instead of letting the cold air out, this door is letting all the cold air in.  An abandoned crack house is probably the only house around with its door open this cold Winter.  Maybe its for a reason.