Ants

There's about a week before I leave for Uganda... and I don't really handle spaces like this well. There's something about dead space that gives me restless leg syndrome like nobody's business. I want to move, want to travel, want to create something, want to discover stuff. I don't enter into rest particularly well. It's always been this way. Give me a break longer than a couple days and I'm itching to go, to do something. My mind runs wild, I start planning out adventures, I'll sporadically play my guitar, try to teach myself a new instrument.

I have a really hard time just chilling.

There's been the restless, nomadic undercurrent that I've been living out for most of my life. Probably because we moved so much as a kid. When you change schools 8 times as a kid, it kind of drills that into you. So I have a tendency to pursue the next a lot. It's not so much that I'm bailing on things. More that I'm just focused on the next adventure. This can be problematic because there have been times when I've bailed on communities or groups that really are good for me/really care about me. Thankfully there are a handful of folks that haven't bailed no matter how hard I've tried (Emmet, the Whitsetts, the Lyons, Bear, the Salladins, etc.)... but it's something that I'm trying really hard to productively work against... because I'm running myself ragged.

Rest can be intimidating, because it requires a certain amount of vulnerability that we never really acknowledge. We have to trust that things left alone for a day, or week, or month will be okay without us. We have to be okay with others really investing, really learning about who we are because we sit still long enough to have the deeper conversations. We have to be okay with realizing that we can't do everything and that true rest, real meaningful rest means getting rid of the things in our life that we can't balance without obscenely loaded schedules. These can be overwhelming things, especially in a culture that defines so much by success, by what we accomplish.

I was talking to a group of folks last night, relaxing, telling random stories, just chilling. And we started planning out a missions trip, getting excited about what we could accomplish with a small dedicated team, getting focused on what we could do if we really set out minds on it. And in the midst of that I almost lost that it was really good and live giving just to relax, to talk, to set aside plan for even a couple hours. It was really recharging just to be real even for a short time. I almost lost that when the conversation turned towards what we could "do." It really would have been a shame if I had.

Ninja Time

Man I hate group dynamics. Perhaps this is too severe. I really dislike group dynamics. Not strong enough. I loathe group dynamics.

There.

There's something about spending time in any group that swells past 4 or 5 people that just makes me lose my bacon. This is something of an odd thing considering I'm pretty much the poster boy for the ENFP crowd (Myers-Briggs... google it if you're curious). But I really have a hard time in situations like these. I think it's something about the fact that once you get to a group this size one of two things are happening. You're either superficially connecting with everyone in the room or engaging with a few select people and then blowing the rest of the room off.

I don't really know how either of those options are supposed to sound like a good idea. I've spent way too much of my life investing in superficial relationships and I don't know if I have much time for it anymore. Now, some might counter this and say "it's a party dude, lighten up, have a good time." But that's just it... I feel like more and more often we (church friends? non church friends? me? where I work?) try to construct social situations where we don't really have to be vulnerable, or real, or authentic, and everything can be about a mile wide and two inches deep. Which is a super way to go through life without having to really know anybody (apologies Good Will Hunting).

I'm just to the point where I'd rather spend 2 hours really connecting with a handful of friends that hours skimming over the surface of a community. This is why I ninja out. The whole goodbye thing in a group setting that large seems superficial. "Goodbye friend, we didn't really talk all night, but it was great to see you." Really? Seriously? So I just bail. Because when I feel like a goodbye is significant, I'll give one. Of course this policy has led me to some epically bad attempted subtle exits from parties... but such is life.

Danger and Excellence

So I went to see X Men First Class night and it really was excellent. Not just as a big budget summer picture or a superhero flick, but genuinely a good movie. It's pretty incredibly realize and breaks down that struggle for validation, acceptance, purpose in some pretty incredibly meaningful way. There are so many great moments throughout the film (Fassbender in Argentina?!... intensity!) but there was one sort of throw away moment that hit me like a sock full of nickels. One of the character says to another character (paraphrase) "you'll never reach your full potential if you're spending half your energy on hiding who you are." I really wish that statement didn't apply to me as much as it does.

Man I'm a chameleon.

I'm doing way better at this, but the better part of my post high school years has been spent on trying to be the person that will be most accepted by those around me. Truth is it takes a lot of energy and there's a certain fear that's carried that eventually you'll be found out for who you are. But still I find myself trying to play the hipster, the jock, the spiritualist, the responsible adult, the wisecrack. Now these are all parts of who I am, but none of them fully encapsulate who I am.

This past year was the year of saying no for me. I made a decision that I would intentionally say no to anything that I didn't want to do/didn't feel let to do. This was kind of a big step. What was interesting about this process was that what remained after the dust settled really said a lot about who I am. And I really like that person. That awkward, dysfunctional, emotive, overly sensitive, goofy, spastic, creative, weird person. But just being okay with that person isn't enough. The point I'm at is actually learning to enjoy being that person actively. To not wish that parts were different, that I finally settled down, that my career or education were at a different point, that my group of friends would look or act a certain way, that my ministry would have a particular identity. The step now for me is to really own the life I've been given and to really enjoy being myself in it. It's a crazy thing to realize you don't have to change for anyone or prove yourself to anyone. It's a bit crazier to actually live that way.

I was talking to my little brother the other day and we were joking that the theme of the summer was danger and excellence. It was a joke and I was basically just riffing on Year One which was a horrible movie, but had some funny lines. But it's pretty true that I really want to stop caring what people think and using all the gifts I've been given to their utmost potential (excellence) and I want to be bold enough to live in a way that says that the outcome is not as important as being genuine (danger). I think it's going to be pretty epic.

I know this has been something of a recurring theme in my life, but I think I'm finally getting to the point where I'm learning to really enjoy where I'm at and who I am. To really appreciate the relationships, the opportunities, the adventures I've been given. I'm pretty amped for that.

Targets and other Misconceptions

I've chased a lot of stuff in my life. Some of it was stuff I'm glad I chased (education), some of it I figured out I didn't actually want (the navy), a lot of it was of the female persuasion. But a lot of my life has been shaped by a need to identify and chase goals. I want that job, I want that relationship, I want to be good at this or that. What's interesting about this process is that I rarely take the time to check and see if these pursuits are actually worth pursuing in the first place. It's usually about as simple as "that looks cool, let's try that" and suddenly develops a somewhat obsessive pursuit to make it happen.

Over the course of the last 10 years or so, I realized that the target was slowly becoming the chase itself. I was becoming less and less interested in the outcome, less and less concerned with enjoying the accomplishment, and more and more fixated on being successful in tracking something down, in proving that I could achieve the objective. I honestly think that's a large part of the reason that I've been pretty nomadic over the course of my post college years. It's not that I was running from anything, more that I wanted more stuff to run after.

That's really been changing over the last few years. I've felt really challenged to press into sustained investment. I used to think that the phrase "grow where you're planted" was a sort of challenge to prove that you could bloom anywhere. But growth is a process of seasons and years, not of a single flowering moment. I've looked at that phrase as a challenge, lately I feel like it's been an encouragement to continue to invest in the places I am, not where I might be.

My accomplishment focused brain doesn't take to this particularly well. Long term investment, like anything that you do for a period of time, goes through highs and lows, exciting and dull points. I don't handle the stagnancy well. But there's growing to be done there too. Valuable growth that I take for granted. The kind that brings out patience, faith, trust. Stuff I definitely need more of and need to appreciate developing. Basically I need to be ok with seasons where the target isn't immediately obvious and to realize that sometimes that's the point.

Graduation

It's the last week of classes at the school I teach at and all of the customary pomp and circumstance is in full swing. Prom, baccalaureate, senior business week, senior trip, graduation. The class graduating this year is the first class I ever taught so I've been involved in the process a bit more than usual. It's pretty incredible to experience all of this from the other side. It's incredible to realize how little any of us knew or how little any of us know now.

We (americans? christians? people?) have this tendency to build milestone moments into our lives as sort of declarations that it's time to make important transitions. "You're 18, now you're an adult!" "You've graduated, time to talk school seriously/get a job!" and I've watched so many of the kids this week carry this look or demeanor that they've arrived, that they feel they finally have inherently made it. But why? Why do we create that expectation. Why do we place this burden of expectation on everything.

I remember thinking after I graduated from high school that it was time to be serious (that didn't last long). I remember after graduating from college thinking it was time to get married, since that's what everyone in my family had done before me (why? I didn't particularly want or feel ready to be married). I remember thinking after I got out of the Navy that I had to jump instantly into a new career (took a couple tries).

So much of this expectation is self imposed. We see movies that portray life in a certain way, read books that describe how it should be done, listen to songs that describe certain things as constants and then we desperately try to get everything to fall in line with these supposedly universal timelines.

This is all really stupid.

We put all this pressure on people to figure everything out, but maybe part of their individual development is actually just appreciating time spent in a place of uncertainty.

Now I'm not necessarily advocating the whole live with your parents at 28 without a job thing. I think you can make money while you're doing this. But why are people so obsessed with the whole cookie cutter thing.

The greatest thing I think that I've ever seen anyone figure out is that there is real freedom in completely following your own unique path. In doing things in a way that completely throws out the standard script and runs with something different. My friend Emmet has a business degree, a masters from Fuller, was a house painter forever, and is a missionary now. That's such a different timeline than anyone else I've known has been on, but it so completely reflects who he is and how God's worked with him. I think it would be hilarious if Emmet wrote a book on the life he's lived from the perspective that everyone should do it the exact same way. First, because I'd love to see people try. Second, because I can't see it work for anyone else. Third, because the tangent stories are hilarious. We can't live lives for others, much less tell them exactly how to make it work... so why do we keep acting like we can?

Digital Disconnect

So I bailed on the iPhone. My phone was starting to glitch and faced with the prospect of having to fork over another 300 dollars to replace the thing, I started evaluating whether or not it was actually worth it. After a lot of thought/prayer/etc. I finally decided to bail on it. It's crazy how happy I've been with the decision.

I'm startled by how much time I spent on the thing.

I had a sense before, sure, mostly because my friends would give me crap about it. But not having it anymore, I'm keenly aware of how often I reach for it as a sort of security blanket, a digital fix to provide a virtual escape when my actual surroundings become intimidating. I have this real tendency to retreat when things become uncomfortable (hence the reason I ninja out of parties as opposed to actually saying goodbye to people) and the iPhone provided a ready retreat. As a result, I found there were a lot of times were I felt like I had no idea how to engage with people. I was so comfortable avoiding that when it wasn't an option, I wasn't totally sure what to do.

I think in a lot of ways I find these comfort touch points in my life. Places that I can run to if I don't want to be stretched/uncomfortable/etc. But I feel like that's a slow death that leads into an exceptionally boring life. I don't want that. I'd rather be challenged and out of my mind frustrated and growing than comfortable all the time and slowly becoming an entrenched personality with no room for growth.

Basically I'm trying to shrug off all of the things that bring out the especially ADD aspects of my personality. It's been good so far, but I feel like it's going to take some intentional work to really step back out into community, conversation, etc.

Comfortably Alone

About halfway through the UK trip, towards the end of our stay in Edinburgh, I found myself restless like nobody's business. It was the kind of feeling that you get when you're a kid and you just feel like running. Simply running, in any direction, as fast as you can. My dad was crashing, but the city was still awake, so I grabbed my jacket, my ipod, threw on my shoes, and headed out the door.

There's something about walks alone in unfamiliar places. There's so much to process. Everything is new. Everything looks different, ominous, and alive at night. I literally just set out. I didn't have a particular destination in mind or any particular reason for walking. I just wanted to get out in the open and cruise... see where the city led me as I got sucked into the current of the late evening.

It's hard to describe what I felt that night, pretty much the only night that I set out on my own and explored. It was something like the feeling you get when you're doing something you love and you're just kind of flowing in it. That feeling that you're integrated into something you were made or meant to do. What's so incredible about that is the fact that a couple years ago that moment would have been dominated by frustration with being alone. I don't feel that way any more. I kind of love it. Don't get me wrong, I love being around people still, but there's something so satisfied about being unhindered and active, setting out on a path that you will walk on alone.

I think in a lot of ways, this also points to a larger issue that God's working out in my life that was continued with the Beatles tour (see earlier post). I think there's an inherent fear that arrives when we're alone (i.e. is this permanent, can I hack it, would others approve) that erodes our confidence and holds us back from the adventure we could experience if only we had the guts to take it on.

I'm ready for more of those "here we go" moments. Those first steps that you have to take alone where you literally have no idea where you'll be led and who you'll meet along the way. Whether that's more work in Africa, or Thailand, or coaching, or even something completely different, I'm down to be boldly uncertain.