I'm With Stupid

My friend Matt stated recently: "what a difference a week makes..." - and oh, how right he is. This past week has definitely had its share of ups and downs for the country as a whole and on an individual level: wildifires in California destroying homes and changing lives forever, the drought in Virginia and other parts of the Eastern U.S. reaching record breaking length, the collapse of the Cleveland Indians at the hands of the Bo-sox, learning more about Albus Dumbledore than I expected (doesn't change anything though!), and the non-news worthy but still mildly traumatic personal blunder of mine from last Friday - to which I am writing about and sharing with you now.

You see, I truly got a personal taste of my most recent post about "facing the stairs" of life, conquering challenge and peservering through the trials when I left for home last Friday. I was still feeling pretty good about my week's work and riding the highs of my stair mastery I was reflecting about from the entry when "it happened." I am still recovering so this may get kind of emotional - bear with me. I lost my new friend - my close personal electronic "historian," the "Jump drive" (also known as a "Flash drive.") This miracle device had been with me for almost a year - I've been saving just about everything to it - my writing mostly, but also pictures and other miscellaneous bits of information that I felt necessary to have in case I needed it. I brought it with me everyday to work, and the amount of info on it is still unknown to me as I am still trying to grapple with its unexpected departure. Here's what happened:

I was running a little behind on getting out of the office last Friday - saving my recent blog entry so that I could have a back-up copy on the jump drive, oh the irony - and I needed to walk to my bus, which was usually a 15 to 20 minute commute by foot. I stood to leave, remembered to grab my jump drive still in my computer (it's cute little end still lit up in green) and then made the worst possible decision I have made in a long time. I placed it in my left front pants pocket. I remembered thinking, "I should just place it in my bag like I normally do so I don't forget where it is," but I instead convinced myself to leave it there, and move it to my bag on the way to the bus. I must also add that I COULD have placed it around my neck, as that is why there is a lanyard attached, but noooo - I decided to leave it in my pocket.

So, I leave the office, go up the stairs, walk about 50 steps through the Commons, where there were maybe 10 people total milling around (it was fall break last Thursday and Friday), out the doors and down the street maybe about a half block when a dreadful feeling hit me square in the chest - something was missing. I felt for my jump drive in my pocket - gone! What?! How could this hap - oh, yeah, I had a HUGE hole in that pocket! IDIOT! So I tossed the contents out of my bag on the spot, rooted through my jacket and made a bee-line back the way I had just came, scanning the ground for signs of it. Nothing. I get back in the building - a mere minute or two had elapsed and started frantically searching for it. Nothing. I then searched the stairs, the hallway leading back to the office and the office itself. Still nothing. How could this happen? What was I thinking? How could I be so STUPID?!?! I prayed that maybe I had just left it in the computer or it had fallen out in the office and the cleaning lady took it by accident. Nope - I checked everywhere, asked everyone, and turned the Commons upside down in search of this precious piece of me and my brief history this past year since owning it. In the end, with all the help of some student workers of mine - I still came up empty handed. It had dropped unknowingly through the hole in my pocket during those 50 steps through the Commons and into the lap of a thief who selfishly pocketed it and didn't think twice. Gone. Two minutes had elapsed, I made one awful decision and it's all gone. Never to return. I still am not over this. I feel so miserable for losing that thing - everything on there is irreplaceable - it was like someone reached into me and stole a part of my soul. Well, maybe that is a tad exaggerated, but you get the idea. That little device carried the mind and heart of me if even in a small way through my writing, my pictures etc, and I only hope that I had a majority of it saved and backed up somewhere else. Lesson learned.

It has almost been one week and I am still reeling from this loss. I continue to look for it when I re-trace my steps over and over again, always walking the same path to and from the bus stop. I had hoped maybe it was returned over the weekend and that whoever had it had a change of heart. I try to lighten up and "get over it" and just laugh - but, the truth is, I am just not there yet. Sometimes yes, but man alive, that wound is still fresh! I was quite upset after it happened last week. I walked with my head down, completely defeated and broken to the bus last Friday (cue the Charlie Brown sad music), tears welling up and anger boiling inside. I still can't believe my utter stupidity has cost me so much and has left me still deeply affected and upset. It has helped hearing similar stories from others who have lost or broken similar treasures - misery does love company. But, I feel like some of the magic is gone and the repercussions of this are only going to instensify as the weeks go on and I learn more of what I lost. I have been violated by a crime brought on by my own doing, so as much as I want to put it all on the jerk who pocketed it, I can't help but beat myself up for screwing up in the first place. In summary - this SUCKS! I am but a man with weaknesses and failures afterall - hopefully I will see good come of this. And that's all I can do at this point. Grieve yes, but overcome it - face the stairs and just suck it up and learn from my mistakes and keep moving forward. I hope you all can hold me to that. I know I needed to get this off my chest so thanks for sticking it out and letting me express myself! I will forgive myself eventually and be the better man for it, but for those of you out there who know this feeling - I still need some time.

I can't end on a downer - yesterday and today it's raining for the first time in over a month! Things are looking up aleady right?

Facing the Stairs

I struggled this week to write something for my weekly post, and I strongly considered just skipping it and waiting till next week. Then, upon viewing a picture or two that I recently uploaded online, I realized that it is in times like these that I need to write - when motivation and creativity is low and I find each step a slow and awkward one.

Needing a change to spice things up a bit, I changed around my blog photos and content. Looking for a new Title photo, I stumbled across this one and a rush of memories and ideas came to mind in an instant. I took this picture this past summer during a camping trip over Memorial Day Weekend with some friends. You see, these stairs tell me a story and I wanted a picture of it to serve as a motivator, reminder and encouragement for times such as these - when the road ahead is long and uncertain, and most likely very difficult. I was training for a 10k all-terrain race in June, and I decided to take a run first thing in the morning at our campground. It felt great to be running through a new place and I was eager to see what was around each new corner and path. Then, I hit these massive steps going down - way down. I paused and took it all in before bounding off towards the bottom and running along the beach. I knew I was going to be running back up in only a matter of a few minutes - and instead of dreading it - I was excited to conquer it all the way to the top.

And I did just that. I ran up that sucker - one step at a time - and it was every bit as hard as I thought it was going to be. I knew that this was such a blessing to be able to train on for my race, and when I wanted to quit and suck wind, I just kept going, no matter how slow it felt like. I had to use the rails at one point, but I can tell you that I conquered that mother of all staircases, and it felt amazing. The joy inside when continuing on with it behind me was so intense, I was so proud of myself, and pleased with myself for choosing to do it when I was only half-way to finishing. Again, I knew that it would come in handy in a few weeks time when I was running for real in the James River Scramble 10k.

Thick with possible analogies, the photo was a must-have. I knew that by merely glancing at this picture, I would be reminded of the sweat, pain and effort that I put in that day, and the rewards that followed. Sitting here, knowing that the road ahead is just as uncertain and challenging, I must keep in mind that we are all running this race called life, and each person's race is their own, and the competition is not to finish ahead of everyone else but rather, to share the road and spur each other on to run their best race possible. Regardless of skill, we're all in this thing together, and we all need a boost now and then. Some days, I am a track star and feel like I could go forever, and other days, I am dragging my feet and ready to sprawl out on a bench and quit. The rewards of new paths, scenery, "running" companions and self-improvement far outweigh any quitting bench I could ever find - and having others around me to hold me accountable to this fact is essential to finishing with no regrets. So, I hope that this can serve as my way of spurring you on to keep moving forward, no matter what, and that when necessary, you may return the favor for your fellow running companions facing the stairs or nearing the finish line.

Trust me, the rewards are worth every step.

"When I Grow Up..."

As I walked into work today, I reflected on growing up and my previous proclamation of the classic line: "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a..." When I was a wee lad, I think I had aspirations of being G.I. Joe or something equivalent to the adventures of the G.I. Joe world of hovercrafts and attack snowmobiles. Then during my middler years, my friends and I fantasized of being a big, studly football players, either for the Cleveland Browns or the Raiders (I think we got hooked on AFC teams because they were A) not in direct competition with the Vikings and B) located in glamorous cities like Cleveland and Los Angeles.) I remember we would play for hours in my front yard, pretending to be sports stars living the high life of (this is where it gets kind of weird) riding attack bikes with rockets and heatseeking missiles, and then returning from a day of winning games and hi-tech bike riding to our football cheerleader wives. As I reached high school, the dream changed from being a football legend to being a comic one, starring on Saturday Night Live and making the world laugh from my crazy on-stage and camera antics. (Pausing for reflection)

During college, I drifted into the world of filmmaking and pursuing a career writing, directing and starring in movies. I majored in Speech Communications and Film and felt very comfortable and gifted in the creative aspects of this career path. I also found a niche and passion for ministry while working as a counselor at a bible camp, and soon I was dreaming of combining both my film talents with my love for Jesus and youth ministry. Ahh yes, the options seemed so wonderful and wide-open, the dreamer in me continued to flourish and plan ahead for all of the amazing, world changing things I was going to do once I leapt out of college and into the real world. So, when I reached this "real world" as we all like to call it, it was quite the eye-opener when my idea bubble burst and I was scrambling to truly find where I fit in the overall scheme of life and whether or not I was going to be qualified enough to make it.

I realize that this is turning into more of a biography rather than a blog entry - so let me get to my point before the nostalgia really hits. Sitting at my desk, working as the Student Organization Coordinator at VCU is a great "job" - but definitely a far cry from the things listed above. Being a coordinator doesn't exactly equal the excitement of the hi-tech nuclear powered bikes and football playing days that I had envisioned when I was 10. Now, it doesn't mean that my work is not meaningful or that I actually long for those previous things, but I definitely still yearn for the spirit and dreamer mentality that surrounded those earlier years. To quote a favorite "Switchfoot" song: "We were meant to live for so much more...have we lost ourselves?"

This sums it up for me quite well. I don't want to lose the ability to dream and go after things that seem crazy impossible or world-changing like I once was so good at doing - perhaps too good at doing. I am earnestly trying to meet the needs of my employer yes, but I am also keeping my mind excited for the other opportunities that are yet to be grasped. I hope that you, my readers, are doing the same - for many of you have helped shape who and where I am as a "worker bee" in this large and complex hive we call "the real world." You all are in similar states of mind and deal with the same hardships as we all encounter. I hope that no matter what situation we all find ourselves in during our working years, that we would all happily proclaim that "when we grow up (which may or may not completely happen for some of us) we want to be many things, but above all and through it all, our focus is to be givers, lovers (no giggling) and changers to others in hopes to leave this world a better place than when we found it.

Lunch break is over, time to go back to work.

The Bandwagon of Truth

The last couple of years I have made some drastic changes in the way I look at my role in consumerism and stewardship. I have jumped on the environmental bandwagon and begun taking action surrounding global warming and how to save the planet. The documentary "An Inconvenient Truth" was the straw that broke the camel's back for Rebecca and I, and since then, we have not turned back.

Being an environmental geek has opened up new areas of needed improvement for our life as consumers in this age. We've done a good job of avoiding plastic and recycling at every opportunity, we compost and use the car as little as possible. I feel we are good stewards of the earth, and our hearts are in the right place as we continue to look for ways to better ourselves for the sake of bettering the world's health and efficiency. So, when it came to changing our eating habits, I had no problem with that. After all, I can't stay in optimal physical health without proper nutrition (cue the flexing of my muscles and sucking in of my gut.) I really haven't noticed or been bothered by not eating enriched flours, hydrogenated oils or occasionally substituting Splenda for sugar (although Rebecca can tell the difference instantly.) I have not gone completely overboard either, as I still enjoy a temporary chocolate binge and ice cream sandwich. I have just taken on a much more mindful approach to what I am putting into my body. So, as you can probably imagine, we did not stray from looking into Organic options and how to avoid too much dependency on chemically altered foods and products. I had no idea just how deep the Organic rabbit hole was, and now I find myself really in for some major overhauls in lifestyle. Let me explain...

My wife and I were given a book titled: "Grub: ideas for an urban organic kitchen" about a month ago from our dear sister Christine, who lives in Portland, Oregon - one of the most eco-friendly places in the United States that we've ever visited. This book has absolutely rocked our minds - we are continually being astonished by the hidden world of food that we simply had no knowledge of before now. We of course had our suspicions, yes, but hearing how we get our food and what shady practices are actually going on behind the scenes is really, really disturbing. I will not name any of them here, but you really should check it out for yourself and get informed. I used to think that eating organic was for uber-obsessed control freaks or hippies, but I am definitely changing my tune. It's smart, environmentally helpful and natural - and is definitely going to be much, much healthier in the long run. The fact that we are so dependent on chemicals and mass food production is sickening to me - some of the food we are eating probably isn't even "food" by the time it gets to us, it has been so tampered with to increase shelf-life and taste that there is very little actual food content present. I freaked myself out the other day when I read the ingredients on my package of peanut butter crackers. I was laughing and crying (not literally) as I fearfully gulped them down because of the extensive list. I have only been checking ingredients this past year or so, but mostly just looking for a specific ingredient and then discarding the item if I saw it. But now, I am really disturbed by what "food" manufacturers are really up to when they are working on feeding the masses - do they really care about my health, or is the sale what really counts?

I'll get off my platform for now, but I just wanted to get it out there that I have no shame in admitting that I'm buying my tickets for the Organic bandwagon. I am thankful for learning this now and being able to continue the investigation before it's too late. I also realize how difficult it is to make any change, let alone something of this magnitude, but "small changes over time make a big difference." I'm trying - it's all any of us can do...