Open!

There is a lot of stuff said about living life to the fullest and all that, I will succumb to my loathed cliche-ness and add my two drops to the ocean.

I first heard the statement when Angela Montenegro (a character from the TV show Bones) said, "...he lives his life wide open..." My first thought was arms wide open, like Creed (yes I like Creed!) and then my mind went on the related trail - open options, embracing chances and blah yada. Some days ago I thought of 'open throttle,' like when I borrowed my friend's Mustang once, to "open it up a little," the mechanic said. I drove 80mph for hours! Loved the accelerating bits, back on point: there is truth in both. Open options, I like. That I may decide for me who I am and discover why I am, mindful that I can always change my mind. Open throttle, I love. That I may go my way with the wind stroking each and every hair on my head and my lungs fighting the back pressure as I yell "WAHOO!" into the rushing torrent.

I played tennis with my brother and he critiqued my game, he said I need to follow through on my shots and I need to be less careful. My response was, "In tennis or the rest of my life?" He laughed. He agrees that I live tentatively, I don't enjoy it and I don't fully intend to. It is a normal state that I long to shrug off.

My parents were quite strict. I loved adventure, so I became adventurous in my own mousy way, and I got into a lot of trouble for lesser things than my peers, but trouble anyway. That would slow one down right? I was always the runt, at home, in my neighbourhood with my 'friends' (the guys who bullied me but let me play with them), and at school (boarding school too) so I think I learnt to be timid in an effort to stay off the radar. If I am quiet the bullies will not hear me, not pick on me or make fun of me.

When I felt daring I went for it, and many times I was humbled. So I stopped. I recall fighting a kid, breaking his teeth, and getting into a world of trouble. I got into another fight my parents never heard of and broke a bigger guys' teeth, but got my face busted up, was taunted until it healed because I 'lost' the fight (though I made a friend!) I played rugby well, but it was "too dangerous." I worked hard in school, but it was never good enough. I hung out with the nerds, but never brainy enough, not sporty enough for the jocks, not anything enough for anyone. Somewhere in there I adapted by not trying to be any one thing. I will be everything to anyone, and nothing to everyone.

My dissatisfaction is not that life itself is necessarily bland, I just do not taste it. I choose rather to hear from others what it tastes like so that I do not look bad when I alone sweat embarrassingly because I find it too spicy. No one tastes like I taste. No one!

It hurts me so that Christ promised "...life, and life in abundance..." John 10:10. Add it to the list of gifts I have not yet opened. If my life is 'abundance' then something is grossly amiss. I risk very little, shy from everything, try to do only that which I can make look good, maybe that every one may say, "Wow! How did you do that? You are soo cool!" Or my dad to pay his, "Good job kid!" debt. I want more than all that, to find the glitch in me, then fix it, "...'not by [my] might nor power, but my Spirit' says the Lord" Zechariah 4:6

"Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?" - Mary Oliver. Yes Mary I am, it is all I know to do.

Furry Green Christmas

My wife is in the living room watching Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the blah blah and the rest, I am in the bedroom listening to U2 a bit loud for 2152hrs on a Sunday night so that I cannot hear her treasured childhood Christmas programs. She finds this anti-social of me.

All through the year I am Oscar. I am not really grouchy. I am part emotionally repressed by design, and part intentionally, confusing. I am emotionally repressed, stop. Part of this is because I realised I was and do nothing about it, stop. The other part is because I am, hence Oscar. Compared to my happy, bubbly and (some) normal friends and family I seem grouchy. I laugh very easily, to some that is a surprise.

At Christmas time I become Grinch, (incidentally my "Peachy!" friend can make an amazing Grinch face...rabbit trail.) I am Grinch because I think the Christmas spirit, Santa, and the whole culture is a load of rubbish! There I said it. Jesus was not born in December, it is great we chose to commemorate His birth, if it is the thought that counts, but Christmas is less and less about Jesus (if it ever was). In a world were we celebrate manifold vice in place of virtue. The wicked do not cower in the shadows of their shame, there is no shame, rather it is the few that strive for righteousness who cower in the face of evil. Children dishonour parents, husbands and wives live as thought they are not, leaders are purchased puppets of those that pay their way into 'public' office, there is greed and corruption everywhere! People die of hunger in one corner, while in another we throw food away! Look at your table this Christmas! Look at it all that you have, all that you throw away and think of this; where you live, someone is hungry tonight. Where is Jesus in that picture? Let's face it, Christmas is for us! Jesus' birth is just an excuse to celebrate, we barely celebrate Him.

In addition to the filth mentioned above, at Christmas time it is fine to lie to make 'Christmas magic', make it a special time. If 'special' needs to be shined by lies, is it really special or it was base to begin with? So we lie to/deceive children, each other. At Christmas it is acceptable to be greedy, we may say greed is wrong but the whole culture begs to differ. Who cares about others when there is me to please? What did I get? I got nothing for anyone, but they should have something for me.

I try, with much groaning and effort to think of the little baby, the unwed mother and scared dad in a cold barn, who they became in many lives years after that night and I seek to pursue that. This year, since I will be at work before I go and stuff my face with my in-laws and open gifts for/with people who mostly have more than they know what to do with; that little family will be just a thought. I should do something for others. I will give my unused clothes to others, that is a start.

I may be in America, but will be Un-American at Christmas, Grinch me all you want.

Tell the Wind

We do it all the time, thank people who are not present to hear and/or respond, it makes us feel better I guess. For we really are grateful but are unable to express this sentiment to its rightful owner, so we say it to the wind. By speaking it out or writing it down, we give life; turn ideas into words that then can live and breathe, finding their way to the ears of who they are spoken to. I know...I know...

I ranted about Hot Air Aid, it is only fair I state that I received all the help I needed and more. That is how I made it here. I was tried and found wanting, and in my wanting many many people from different places and walks of life banded together unknowingly and lifted me up to my current state. I think of them individually often, only now have I looked at them as a group. If there is ever a reunion I may attend in life, it is the one where all these people are in a room together. Though I may be their host, I will surely be the littlest person in the room. All I am, and will ever be pales in comparison to who they have proven to be.

Thank you. All of you. Some of you are unnamed, so I will name none. Thank you. May all I am be pleasing to you. If any glory is given me, it is yours multiple times.

Thank you.

Empty, Caring words

My dad rarely asked for help (without doing something in return). I spent many late nights with him, his best friend and his best friend's son working on the car. In return for the son, his knowledge and tools, my dad always got a crate or more of beer. It is a wonder the car was working the next morning. That is how I was raised, we do not ask for help or favours without favour in return. We take handouts with hanging heads and shame filled hearts, love is earned. If you do a great job at school, in the garden or clean the car until it gleams, then you maaay be called 'my dear,' maybe once. No merit was undeserved, even food and clothing had to be somewhat earned.

When I left home we somewhat had a plan for my financial needs. To be honest we knew it would fail. Other kids had made it with less, we were given confidence that I would make it without trouble. Zimbos though... we were a showy people. We told of problems only after they are solved to our glory, suffering was for others. The people around us maybe, not us. "Oh ---, he went to the States. Yes, he is doing great very well indeed, he got a job, bought a car and. Oh jobs are easy to get, plentiful and very well paying. Your son will be fine, as long as he works hard. Oh yes, he should go. I will give you -----'s number so that they can keep in touch. Oh yes. Sure, sure," our mothers said to each other in the twilight hours in suburban street corners. I don't know the reality my peers faced, the ones whose numbers I was promised. I know it was not that easy for me. How do you work hard if you cannot get a job to begin with? How do you stay in school if you cannot work? But you cannot work if you are not in school! I made it though...through prayer and un-gained favour. So, really, He thought to teach me what Grace felt like.

Here I am, a grown, semi-accomplished young man and still I refuse unmerited favour. In college, people would often ask about me and my family (who are still home, in poverty and sickness.) I appreciated the concern, it hurt though, I needed immediate help that someone could start to give and all they had was, "Well I hope things work out for you." I know people cannot always help, and I do not know the intricacies of their situation. A little help though little, is help indeed. Here I am again. Friends and acquaintances ask often and all they have are words and wishes. I hope they pray, I pray they pray.

One young man impressed me just yesterday, by his calling to say, "hey, things are bad, I'm sorry. How can I help? All I can spare is a twenty every month." WOW! Good for him, GREAT for him. He will send his money to my orphaned niece, help her get to and from college. If she graduates she can better help her siblings. By helping her, at least 2 little boys have a future.

Yes, we are in unfortunate times, I do not want your pity while you stuff your faces and your lives. We need help, if all you have is just a little, that is good. Before you we did not have that little! We are better off for it, thank you. Do not care for me with your empty words, I am not impressed! I have enough of my own.