Pa-shun

For the long days at work that should have been lived outdoors on a bike, I handle a friendship for growing up in those frustrations that breath life into a now altered existence. For who can forever groan in pains of labor? There's a train traveling through my house, destroying all I thought that I held dear. Carbon frames, King bottom brackets, and a kit that screams "I am;" it all got laid to waste in this dream that found the shores of a lonely tide rolling in screaming streaks of moonlit wonder. I could see the reflection of my youth standing right in front of me and it reminded me of me. "There will be an answer, let it be." So I sat back and stared into the clouds designed to eerily paint the only light in the sky. Whispering now, it came through with a religion that left nothing to measure. There was no comparison to be made, just a simple tug at my voice. Who am I apart from the rest of the world's chalk line snapped high on a slippery overhang? Impossible to be, then my voice became. I heard it roll through the night like a hungry wolf howling for something beyond itself. The mood seemed to wrap itself around the orchestra passionately playing for the right to recreate a perfectly timed melody. Out of my shoes and onto the sand running so that time could not find me, the last ounce of strength was spent tearing out all that seemed to resist the freedom of embracing a measureless pride.

This, my friends, is how it feels to race for a cause. Come ride a bike with me and I guarantee you'll discover your passions. Together with good people, a team is being formed that will turn bikes into a curiosity that makes a wake worth noticing. You should be on this team.

tucked home

History, even that of personal experience, can be lost. This trip home has already reminded me of missing what I did not know that I miss. I miss my mother's home all the way from the tree filled backyard to the stuffed animals that accent the mommy decorum. Quite frankly, I miss my mother. She drove through the night to love me with hospitality that only a momma can give. I am staying in a home who knows nothing of me, yet I feel like my entire childhood lives in the walls. I feel at home; what a strange thing to forget. Home: what a wonderful thing to find again. I am thankful for my momma.

Translating antiwar heros

Who wants war? I find myself undereducated on the necessity of war; however, even in my bliss of ignorance, I know that I would prefer to vote a president into power that would go to great lengths to avoid war.

Without an expert to aid me, I'm going to conclude that the cause of all wars is perspective. The lack of at least one party's effort to understand why the other party thinks or acts a certain way, this my friend is the beginning of war.

If you don't want war, how do you live? All of my friends seem to accept as truth the statement that war is not a good option. If you're like me and think that war generally sucks, consider your options the next time that you face conflict. It's one thing to be opinionated and another to avoid understanding (not just knowing) the perspective that others take. Take perspective!

To sit down with a foe and look them in the eyes while listening to their take on life is to see them as they are: lovable, like me, like you.

daily do

"And so the mature man would take the world as it comes, and within himself remain quite unperturbed. When he acted, he would know that he was only testing an hypothesis, and if he failed he would know that he made a mistake. He would be quite prepared for the discovery that he might make mistakes, for his intelligence would be disentangled from his hopes. The failure of his experiment could not, therefore, involve the failure of his life, and, to the understanding, defeat is no less interesting than victory...

Since nothing gnawed at his vitals, neither doubt nor ambition, nor frustration, nor fear, he would move easily through life. And so, whether he saw the thing as comedy, or high tragedy, or plain farce, he would affirm that it is what it is, and that the wise man can enjoy it."

-Walter Lippmann

When nothings are plucked

Good day to you.

-It welcomes me like a familiar smell whose origin can't be placed.

How have you been?

-The emotions that surround this tone burst into flames.

I'll be going then.

-Action boils, but options put a lid on the steaming pot that screams "I'm ready."

Bye.

-When you want to know someone, how do you wait? I have been branded by an affection that grew too large for its home. Like a tree whose roots naturally search the earth for nourishment, my curiosity has found a direction.

Doc, the best and the worst of times are here.

I am going to go to the doctor.

After I race, my breathing produces a cough that produces phlegm. My other symptom is a lack of sleep, which is why I'm awake right now. I am tired and I want to sleep. I want to feel good again.

I guess that a blog can be a memory to capture myself at a certain time. I'm writing this one so I can look back on it and be thankful that I'm no longer here, awake, writing memories that need to pass.

Grandpa Lehman was sick for a while and yet without a complaint he died. My grandma and I often recall with amazement his spectacular feat. I have to wonder how he pulled it off. I'm drawn to the idea that he loved my grandma so much that he gave her his very best even until his dying day.

If this sickness that is keeping me awake, stealing my energy and my breath, turns out to be the beginning of the end (yes, this is getting a bit dramatic), then I could only hope to meet my end with as much honor as my grandfather.

Maybe the doctor will know what to do.

Single Man. Conjectures on the Unknown.

This post is necessary. It should make me look like more of a fool though, which is rather typical. I'm going to talk about romantic love as an outsider, as a failure. As always, I want to start a dialogue about these thoughts. Feel free to join in with me at any time. If necessity is born from desire then here I am starting with a universal desire to love. All of the current models from which I draw wisdom are those relational stories that capture what not to do. From those negative examples, I am trying to construct the positive.

How do we love? When I consider what a book might contain with this title, TIME and FAILURE seem like topics to include.

On Time.

She wants this, I want that.

To give her what she wants, go beyond communication:
1.) Think about her. What do you believe she needs?
2.) Ask her close friends, what does she need?
3.) Ask her father, what does she need?
4.) Ask her mother, what does she need?
5.) Pray and be your prayer that you will become what she needs.

To receive what I need, go beyond my own thoughts and communicated information:
1.) What do I need from the perspective of others?
2.) Ask.
3.) Pray and be your prayer of understanding.

Once needs are known, how should they be communicated?
- verbal requests?
- written requests?
- through analogy?
- within romance?
- temper tantrum?
Some effort should be spent applying thought to the options available for the unique opportunity to fit the situation.

What will make a relationship succeed?
Living examples --> Who? --> Dave and Renee
Dating, always dating --> How? --> Be creative with words 1 hour a week. Write about her and the ideas will follow.
Talking --> When? --> While we dance, while we are silent, while we eat, while we sleep.

On Failure.

In regards to love, I see failure everywhere. What is the common thread when relationships fall apart?
"I do not love you anymore."

How Lord can I become love's action and as such so much more than a mere desire to do so? ...

My thoughts: To the extent that love is seen as a desire, to that extent it will be less lovely. No one loves. No one.

We crave what love speaks or rather whispers in our thoughts, that is, being known. Despite our fragile appearance of goodness that veils our now unmasked ugliness, we receive our favor within love. Favor in the form of time. Favor in the form of communication. Favor in the form of presence. We receive what we know we want yet do not deserve. How do we secure an undeserved gift? We make promises with rings. We attempt to find the security. There must be something missing. If God is missing, let us find God.

Again, the common thread is: "I do not love you anymore."

The models in my life are filled with men who have had a wife that has added to this thread. I can learn from the two stories that I know the most.
1.) My father
- He left adventure out of his relationship.
- He did not make my mother his best friend.
- My mother's history communicated needs that were never explored.
2.) Paul
- He gained a lot of weight and left adventure out.
- He did not read books (even at the request of his wife).
- Him and his wife did not direct their thoughts at engendering the best version of themselves through the relationship.

My commitments must reflect active learning:
Starting today...
On reading:
1.) I will read the news for 10 minutes everyday.
2.) I will read a book for 20 minutes everyday.
On fitness:
3.) Every morning: push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups.
4.) I will have an active passion.
On adventure:
5.) I will author an adventure that creates a story to tell every month that I am alive.
To my love:
1.) I will search your needs with this shared philosophy:
"We are comfortable discussing the needs we possess. Our words are essential to create the environment that will change us into individuals that will ultimately serve one another in a dynamic way. By dynamic, we understand that we will both change, our needs will change, and as a result we will need to continually change one another. Finally, we stand strong on these foundations: 1.) You can be what I need. 2.) I can be what you need. 3.) Together we will form each other into the best version of ourselves."