So I listen... for the voice inside my head

Fear. I've know in it, felt it, it's been my friend from time to time. Like Over The Rhine remind us, "I'm gonna learn to love... without fear."

That's a hard step to take.

I am sure we've all been there before. Waiting. Wanting. Daring to believe, hoping, praying... and trying not to screw it all up. Fears hold us in check.

I don't want to be afraid. But how does one react when the stakes are raised? When things are settled, not chaotic, there is little to fear. Sure, there may be lost, but you understand, you are living in the moment. But now... when you don't know, there is fear.

And that's dangerous, because we might do something stupid. Say something stupid. Something you feel but can't put into words, or put into words the wrong way.

God, grant me strength to defeat fear, to embrace love, to forget about anxiety, to relinquish control.

Help me to learn to love without fear - to live without fear. If Teems is right, if love is everything, is God personified, then let us live that way, without fear.

Haunting, familiar yet...

There are a lot of small towns in Indiana.

I think, then, that there would be a lot of small town people. Genuine people. But, sometimes it seems like that is not the case. Old-fashioned, small town people seem to be a dying breed.

I can thankfully say that I have been very fortunate to have met and befriended a few small town people. Cory, Mike, Pat, Rach, Chris, Rob, Steve... these are people who just plain seem genuine. There is a lifted veil with them.

I like small town people.

Small my table, sits just one

Not sure how long I can keep up this Pearl Jam-themed, "song lyric = entry title" thing. But I like it. And, in answer to my own question - I can probably keep it up a while. I'm a nut like that.

So... I love my little devotional book. Today's entry was about being, as a child of God, not doing.

I am. I am who I am.

Je suis. That was the first thing we learned in French class - well, other than Je m'appelle ___ (my name is blank). Je suis. I am. To be. Etre. To be.

Perhaps it is of no little significance that God loves us for who we are. It is an interesting idea... that God loves me, warts and all, mistakes and failures... and of course successes and triumphs, too.

To be is to be. To know thy self is to know that you are imperfect. To accept that you are imperfect is a tacit recognition that your imperfections are ok, that in many cases they make you a better person. For me, it is also a recognition that God loves us not despite our imperfections, but because of them... for not all imperfections are "sin" (and I'm not getting into what that means, yet...). Even if they were, God loves us just the same.

I know myself. I am.

And I am more than happy with that. It is good to be, to exist, to walk this earth as me.

Your light made us stars

"May love act as a bridge... over the very least of your exchanges." - David Teems

As I read this phrase (yes, out of a devotional) last night, it felt like I had been given a key to the gates, and punched in the stomach at the same time.

As I have dealt with my own search for love and companionship, I have watched my friends search, too. I have shared in some of their successes and some of their failures. But... my point is, when was the last time you stopped and thought about "love" as something universal and all-consuming... not just a romantic relationship?

Anyone who knows me knows I think a metric-ton about love, it all its myriad forms. The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis is one of my favorite books. If you're looking just right, you might catch me tear up over silly or emotional displays of affection, beauty, appreciation, eros, AND divinity.

Love in all its form is a lost commodity. We as human beings need to bring it back. Put that currency back into circulation.

It's starts next to you - just being polite, thankful, helpful.

I always liked that commercial, I think for Prudential, where they talk about being responsible - and the lady stops the pizza guy from crossing a busy street in front of a car he didn't see. He in turns stops someone from doing something dangerous, and they help someone pick up something, and on and on, until it returns to the orginal lady character, who is helped by someone, and then helps the pizza guy again.

Another great media example is the Dave Matthews Band video for Everyday (I think), the one where the fellow goes around offering complete strangers a hug, for no reason other than... hey, people need hugs.

Maybe that currency could be in wide use again. Maybe it still is, maybe it never was. But let's not let the semantics bog it down - whether you believe in God, or or whatever you call it, or nothing at all... it still never hurts to spread a little love around.

Saw things so much clearer.

Rearviewmirror.

It is sometimes much easier to see what, why, and how - when it is over. I wish I could tell my friend to let go, to cut ties, to kiss his past goodbye. It is not easy to look at someone who is travelling a path you walked yourself - you know that load, you bore that pain, and you how it ends. And, you know how it feels.

But... you also know how it feels to come out from under that cloud. Been a whole lot happier since the bitch left town (little miss, little miss, little miss can't be wrong).

I've hurt. I've lost. I've been lost. I've been there before.

And I've seen the other side. Once you let go... you have freedom.

And that gets us back to risk vs. reward. And I'm the CEO of my heart, so I'm the one that makes the decision to risk what, how much, when. It is a tough call to make. It's damn tough. Having felt the heartbreak, that momentary loss of soul... it is harder to give again.

It is hard to open up.

You need someone who has the key.

But it also makes you more discerning. The bar has been raised. You have standards, morals, values. Sometimes it is too much. But you test, you try, you drag and kick and fight... and then, hopefully, you get it right.

Then you wait for your time, wait for your shot, wait for you moment in the spotlight.

Wait for the chance to risk it all. You don't love like you've never been burned - you love like you know what that feels like, so you love harder, stronger, deeper than before. Your heart, mess that it is/was, opens up more, larger. You take chances.

Sometimes... life can be circular. Life can be a cycle. Sometimes... you live to hurt again.

But I once believed that Love Conquers All.

And.

I still believe that Love. Conquers. All.

Sometimes it is hard to admit it. But faith, hope, love... they are all still there, lurking somewhere beneath the surface... waiting for their moments. They ebb, they flow, they churn into a maelstrom and burst free like a tidal wave.

They are the essence of being human.

I can't say I haven't hurt. But from the rearviewmirror, I can say that, having hurt, I'm better off for it. I'll appreciate what I see when I see it. Love gets sweeter and sweeter, in every possible way (thanks Julie Doiron and Wooden Stars).

So... you hope for your friend, you hope for yourself. You stand on the corner of thought and reason, watch it intersect with love and romance... you stand with your scarred self and stick out your thumb, hitching a ride.

The quest we're taking on together

Sometimes, just sometimes... there's never enough time.

Enough time to write. Enough time to say what's to say. Enough time to read. Enough time to listen, to talk, to feel.

When the blow falls, which way do you run?

How do you advise someone you don't want to get hurt? Do you explain what you've been through, advise caution? Or do you remember when you yourself threw caution to the wind, and said the hell with it, and went against your gut to go with your heart?

When do you celebrate how you feel once you are out from under that dark cloud?

No risk, no reward.

To love is to risk getting hurt, to risk (another) heartbreak.

But to love is everything - god, self, glory, righteousness. To pursue excellence in that, does it not mean to take that risk?

Risk?

Risk.

Risk.

I'm the first mammal to wear pants!

I must admit... I felt very modern when I first brought home my Wii, nearly a year ago (well, in September). I thought, "wow, I have this totally modern, quite bitchin' video game thing." I almost had to kill an old woman to get it - she literally interrupted my conversation with the Electronics clerk in Wal-Mart to get "the last one." The clerk even tried to tell her to wait, that I was there first, and that I had asked first. But she blurted out that she wanted that one right there, and there must be some policy that once it was spoken (I was merely talking with the clerk, pointing and smiling, but hadn't said, "I want that Wii, right there," yet), the customer that makes the request first gets the product.

Anyway - day-dreaming of destroying old ladies with modern video game consoles aside - I was feeling modern. I bought Madden '08.

I played it once.

And now, I have a Wii Fit. I have only purchased a few games since then, that first, fateful day (not counting the purchased downloads of old NES and SNES games - the real hidden treat of the Wii). But now... I am feeling modern.

And fat.

The Wii Fit is quite a unique little thing. It is slowly becoming the rage at work. We are coming in and discussing it, in the hallways before 8:00 a.m. People big, fat, little, small, tall, short, wide, skinny... we talk about Wii fit.

That was a good exercise. Let's work on trimming your waistline.

I can say this: I have at least played it twice... that's once more than Madden '08, and counting!