Changes

So I swear in to the local volunteer fire department tomorrow.

I'm pretty excited, as well as more than a little nervous. Some pretty major questions about myself are on the verge of being answered, and now I'm not so confident that I really want to know the answers. That's probably just nerves and lack of confidence talking. I come from a long line of first responders and front line personnel. My dad was a firefighter/paramedic for 25 years, my grandfather was a fighter pilot in WWII, my uncle was a cop for 27 years, my cousin is currently deployed in Iraq...I feel that civil service runs in my blood and that I will find myself surprisingly at home in that world.

At least, that's what I hope. There's always the possibility, of course, that this may go horribly wrong for me. I could freeze up at a crucial moment or otherwise embarass myself. I may find myself too frozen with fear to run into a fire. I may not be able to stomach the grisliness of a car accident. And I know it's supposed to be bad juju to say it, but I may even die. That part doesn't bother so much; I just hope that if that's what's in the cards for me, then it happens in a way that does some good for someone else.

Truth is, I don't really know what to expect. No one does. The only thing I know is that it looks like my life is in for some big changes. But I know what I'm hoping for.

I'm hoping doing this will really let me see what type of person I really am. I'm hoping that doing this will bring me a little closer to my dad and help me understand him a little better now that he's gone. I'm hoping my dad is looking down at me and approves. I hope my dad is proud. I'm hoping doing this will allow me to look at myself in the mirror and not feel disappointed by what I see. I'm hoping I can walk with my head held a little higher. I'm hoping the people I love will be proud of me. I'm hoping I like the person I'm going to find out I really am. I'm hoping doing this will show me a way to let you go, let me move on and have a shot at loving someone who loves me back. I'm hoping doing this will make you realize what I'm offering you and have you come running back to me. I'm hoping to impress chicks. I'm hoping to finally find that one thing in life that I love to do, and do it well. I'm hoping people will take me a little more seriously. I'm hoping maybe you'll notice me. I'm hoping to feel like I'm accomplishing something useful and productive to the world at large. I'm hoping I'm doing this for the right reasons.

But mainly, I'm hoping I don't fuck this up.

The Limits of My Imagination

It's so difficult to think about putting my arms around someone else. I can't imagine it would feel the same as when I put them around you. And people say it will be different, but it'll also be better. I can't fathom anyone feeling more correct and right and true in my arms than you do.

I can't imagine wanting to put my arms around anyone other than you. When something feels as strong and real as my feelings for you, it's difficult to believe you could ever have those same feelings for anyone else. I feel complete when I hold you in the circle of my arms. And people tell me you can have feelings for someone else, they'll just be just different ones. And I say, what's the point then? Always wanting what you know you can't have. Pretending to be happy and content here when all you want is to be there. Because those feelings don't disappear. They just get filed away along with dead dreams and hopes, ready to leap back into my heart at the first sight of you.

I can't imagine I'll ever be able to put my arms around someone, kiss someone, hold hands with someone, love someone...and not wish it was you.

In the Kingdom of the Blind...

I wish you could see what you look like through my eyes. Maybe then you would understand. Maybe then you would really see.

The Weight of Water

On occasion, I'll get these little spurts of enthusiasm and motivation, and I will conciously try and change something about my life that I don't really like or that's bringing me down. More often than not, these spurts will last for a week or two and then fizzle out in a mire of laziness and apathy. I am notorious for starting projects with great, lofty visions of success only to lose interest shortly thereafter. In a word, I am not known for my follow-through technique.

However, amidst yet another glorious burst of optimism, I have decided that I want to change that about myself; to change the very thing about me that prevents me from making changes in my life, and if that doesn't have a little ring of the Zen to it, I don't know what does. The conclusion I came to is that I always try to change either too big of a thing, or too much at once, and wind up getting myself stressed out and overwhelmed, which then casues me to give up. So I'm trying to break things up into bite size morsels, do it by starting with just one thing and going from there.

So the thing that is going to kick off this amazing journey of transformation and self-improvement, the goal I have chosen for myself as the symbolic first step in this new road of positive personal action, is this:



That's right. A water bottle. One that has measurements up the side going up to 32 oz (mine is green though). If I drink two of these a day, I will be drinking the medically recommended minimum daily amount of water to keep me healthy, strong and (this is the important one) alive. I also imagine it has something to do with helping to keep my various soft insides well lubricated and in vital organ-juice producing peak form, but I don't really know. I am, after all, not a doctor. I work mainly on conjecture and gossip.

My logic (such as it is) is this: if I can change just one habit of mine for the better, if I can make ingesting 64 oz of water daily a habit that I don't even need to think about, then who knows what other healthy and beneficial changes I might be able to trick myself into? Why, I might be able to train myself to take stairs more often instead of escalators, or to maybe take a daily walk around the block and the weather be damned, or even sock $5 a week into a savings account or something. Who knows? The possibilities are endless! And all because I decided to drink more water.

I have taken to carrying it with me pretty much eveywhere. Filling it up is the last thing I do in the morning before I go to work, and it's always sitting close at hand on my desk once I get there. However, that bottle is deceptively small. I have been having trouble being able to actually swallow 64 oz of water in the course of a day. That's a whole lotta water. But I keep plugging away at it. I figure it's similar to learning how to run long distances. You run until you can't run anymore, and then just go one or two more steps farther every time. I think in the 3 or so weeks I've been doing this, I've managed to drink my goal only once or twice, although I'm well on my way to getting there today. With any luck, I'll be able to drink 64 oz without flinching in a couple more weeks. Then I can move onto my next goal, which is TBD. I know you'll stay tuned. And I am, as my friends already know all too well, open to suggestion.

A Statement of Intent and Purpose

I'd like to think that I will keep up with this blog on a semi-daily basis, at least, but that's probably just wishful thinking.

 Like the description says, I envision this as a dumping ground for all those things that swirl around my brain every minute of every day...the things that make me laugh, the things that make me cry, the things that make me smile and the things that catch my eye. Songs, photos, random thoughts, lyrics and poetry, etc. A kind of pressure relief valve for my mind...I'm a little curious as to what shape this little experiment of mine is going to take. The only thing I'm sure of is that it will most likely take a non-linear form, one post rarely dovetailing into the next.

But I guess that's the purpose of a diary, isn't it? Or at least what it usually winds up becoming; a document of just how one day almost never dovetails into the next, and that vague sense of discontent and disappointment when it does. The only thing that worries me is whether enough interesting stuff goes on in my life to justify being written about. I'm hoping to use this as a sort of eye/mind/spirit/heart opening exercise, a way to kind of open myself to the world again and see what it looks like when you can see the possibilities hiding around the corner, instead of just disappointed hopes and dead dreams. Actual possibilities. Just think of it. I haven't had eyes like that since high school.

But mainly, I think, this is going to wind up as some sort of document of my long search for that one special person, that fabled "other half" that we all hear so much about but seem to ever so rarely find. Because a life without love, a man without a woman, a heart without a whole, is just about the saddest thing I can think of. Which goes a long way toward saying something about where I'm coming from, I suppose.

But maybe, just maybe, it'll say something else entirely about where I'm going, too.