Victory

It’s been awhile, but I always feel bad coming here in this state. Half-asleep, pants-undone, and beanie-wearing. They’re all me, but they’re the points I’d rather not use as perspective. Everytime I think I’m beyond this, the muse strikes, in the usual way. I’m just gonna type and something’s going to come out. Humble-Brag, amirite?

I have always lived a charmed, first-world life, but i’ve never seen it like this before. Getting kinda choked up on watching a condensed forty years of SNL and seeing what a child of television I was. Back when I used to sneak in late night television before I even knew what that meant. Back when network television was everything. Back when I lived in the utter bliss of complete ignorance. Yup, pretty easy for privilege to make connections.

Because really, how could any of this be my fault? It wasn’t on me back then to be self-aware, only to be. Be what was expected of me. That really puts a gash in my zen armor of later self-awareness. If I can be based on other’s principle’s, how is that set apart from my own? How am I in control? And how did I tend to that gash in the armor?

In a sense, dissociation. I am not in control, I am not principled, and there is no gash in the armor. Because I say so. Easy, yet depressing to rationalize.

And yet a dear friend of mine escaped to my bar because of his group discussing the ideas between ambition vs. mortality. I have no idea the motives, because I didn’t ask. I give a “helluva topic” spiel, then peace out. I look inside and know I am stuck in my ways because of what I can only assume is my age and perceived wisdom. I feel like I can’t add anything because ideas like these have always been met in a personal experience for me, be it a book, self-reflection, or a completely unrelated conversation. Never from active arguing, though that has a place too.

For me, there is no victory in this (and most any) discussion, only sides. Which is a tenant of victory. When there are sides, there must be a victor and loser, lest the sides not really exist. And then the logic gets real circular from there. My inner voice yells at me that when you take ideas like these before considering objectivity and subjectivity, you put the cart before the horse. Even then, it’s not the precursor. You can ask “why?” like a two year old until being told “because”, no matter the idea. Or you can fight and force meaning on things, and claim victory.

I just don’t care about victory, though I’m not too keen on defeat, either. Both happen to me on micro and macro levels all the time though, and I grow as a person. It’s nice though. It’s nice that life tends towards victory in that manner.

 

Forgetfullness

It really took more than a couple password guesses to get here. It fills me with melancholy. I never really looked at this site as a crutch, but I’m not really surprised that it is in retrospect. Always here when I need it, but quickly forgotten.

Just in reading my last post, there’s already so much memory loss. Not in the specifics, but in the generalities. It’s an automatic defense mechanism, as far as I can tell. Why else would I be able to look back with total clarity of details without any clarity of experience?

On the surface, all I can say is that my mind is trying to protect me from something. If I delve down, the obvious answer is itself, which is so cliche that it makes me feel sick to write it. Which may or may not be the stem of the nausea. I’m trying to hammer it out here, duh.

Now that our place is open though, everything seems to be falling into place. We have found our little corner of Idaho and everything seems to be going swimmingly. It was months of anxiety, but it has all washed away now that the doors are open. Hopefully that’s not a feeling I forget.

Living the Dream

Realized my head has been swimming and that I should probably come here. Things are awesome, but the anxiety is killing me. I am off-kilter and out of my mind, but it is by choice. It makes it that much more exciting.

Although this starting a business is making me more the asshole Ryan I don’t like so much, it’s exactly what I need. Taking myself out of my comfort zone always guarantees some growth, which is harder to come by as I get older. It is all money based, yet that’s what makes it feel low risk. Money is money, but no one is going to kill me if i don’t pay them back. Yet.

It’s a little strange to know that failure is an option, but that it does and doesn’t matter. Best-case scenario is us having success to allow us future comfort and that the work we put in now will pay off later, but the fact that there is no guarantee is exhilarating. It’s all cheap-thrills though. I see beyond the veneer, but am also glad that there are other people along for the ride. It makes for a shared experience, and that’s where the value lies.

I’ve realized from being in Boise that anywhere Heather and I decide to reside, we will be a pretty big deal. It might take more time in some places than others, but we can’t help but be awesome. This is circle-jerk egoism, but I try to look at it objectively and understand that we earn it and that it’s not just talk. We have fun because we are who we are, and truly do want everyone else to be involved. I know it’s self-serving because if everyone’s having fun, we’re having more fun. Societal altruism at it’s best (right?).

I feel detached, but I feel in the best way possible. On a certain level, I want to feel this sort of detachment all the time. It’s the zen feeling of letting go of control with complete understanding of the illusion and surrendering. Knowing the idea and feeling the idea are just so different, and realistically, it’s chemically driven a lot of the time. It doesn’t make it any less valid, it just makes it harder to achieve on a regular basis, because chemicals cost money, and achieving it without the support is the true goal. Still, worth every penny.

I know we could have retired at this point. Lived an amazing life based on comfortable living, and built for the future. Apparently, that wasn’t enough so let’s max out a bunch of credit cards and create something for ourselves in this world. That makes me happy. What else should you do in this world but reasonably push the boundaries? Like I said earlier, this is not life and death, just total comfort versus mild discomfort. Life is capricious, but has been extremely kind to us. I like to think that it’s because we have earned it, but I have no idea. I can still draw the conclusion that what we’re doing is working, because life has been very kind. Correlation versus causation be damned, life is good.

Too Satisfied to Write

The usual open line. Long time, no see, bloggie. Exposition. Thensome other descriptive words. Conclusion.

I used to come here because I had things I wanted to hash out, but also because I enjoy writing. The bug is not there at all right now though, the comfort I have with my life is so high right now it borders on ecstasy. Even when I get those sneaking suspicions that I’m a fraud, not cool enough, blindly stumbling, or just clueless, it is so muted. It didn’t even take some huge life threatening disaster or calamity, just a complete frame shift of what it means to be happy.

Everything has been downsized since I moved to Boise, and that simplification has been everything. Everything is just so much more manageable now, from social engagements to work load, to free time. There is more balance in my life, and it feels effortless. Everyone we are involved with now is amazing. It doesn’t even feel too good to be true, it just feels like it was always supposed to be this way.

The dream is almost fully realized. Heather can quit her shitty retail job soon, and get on bullet train to awesome-town that i’m already on. We fit right into the beer community here, and it’s crazy to see people start recognizing that in us. I’m not shy to say that I helped create something, and that it would not be the same without me. It’s not about bolstering my ego though, it feels like genuine appreciation for me being me. It feels right.

 

Back to Sames-ville

Cliches are a fine art. I remember reading Infinite Jest (jeez, don’t brag) was struck by Mr. Wallace’s idea of striking a balance between cliche and obvious truth, and what a fine balance to walk it is. You know a cliche when you hear it, but you understand a cliche after understanding why it’s a cliche. Heady shit.

I always like to fall back on the cliche of Mrs. Brady: “Wherever you go, there you are”. It’s a saccharine way to remind myself that there’s no escaping myself. After uprooting and moving out of town, and everything familiar to me, I find myself with my frame shifted. It’s not myself I’m trying to distance myself from, it’s other people. Kind of. It’s more the interactions between myself and other people. I’ve had four months dealing with very little in the area of social engagements, and it’s been eye-opening in the area of who I am, as you can’t help but run into people and engage them.

The lack of control that I have in these interactions with other people does not bother me one bit. But I am constantly running into people who care a lot about that type of control. The idea that information is power and then using that power to influence and manipulate, more often than not to your own ends. It might be because I am far too earnest and without guile, but seeing it in action on me or others bugs me. Probably because I have no weapons against it besides silence, or agreeing until they go away.

It’s a fine balance though. I interact with people of my ilk, and feel energized. I interact with bandits, and feel drained. I like interacting with the bandits though, as long as there’s nothing to lose. Then it’s just like watching a performance, where you get to dictate which direction the performer goes in. Funnily enough, there’s the manipulation I detest. It doesn’t feel like manipulation to me because I am not actively trying to drain anything out, they’re going to do it the way they want to anyways.

I find myself meeting more and more people of the ilk though, and identifying the bandits sooner. I like the people I’m finding. This is a great place to be.

Moving On

OK I’m back.

I knew I would be, this blogging template is just too convenient of a medium. That or I am just so used to it that when my muse strikes, this is the the most appropriate forum for me. This is my corner of the internet, where I can post things yet still remain outside of social media. It’s very me. Now on with the show.

There is so much shaking up going on in my life. Beyond myself and my wife it seems to be happening everywhere. A groundswell of moving on is taking place and everyone seems to be the better for it. It’s time for the pendulum to swing the other way and it’s time to seize the day, take control, and realize your destiny.

It all feels like perspective to me though. I am seeing all this because I am actively living it. I see these things because I am acutely aware of change, and am just taking the time to notice it. Besides my friend Chad who is moving to Bellingham to start a brewery and a former coworker Matt opening a bar on lower Queen Anne, Heather and I are the next most rash, quitting our jobs and moving to Boise. It’s terrifying an numbing and exciting, but enough is enough. I am sick of getting passed over for opportunities and am ready to stop laying down and at least attempt to blaze a trail. It really seems ridiculous not to try, we’re way too awesome not to have our own place. No good risk is without it’s unreasonable amount of doubt though, it wouldn’t be a risk otherwise.

I haven’t laid it down here, but there’s been a quote I’ve been stewing over for years now so let’s lay it out. It’s cliche in the way that only true wisdom can be, but is from the dude who spelled out the Golden Rule two thousand years ago, so he has a little credibility. I know time muddles truth but Hillel is credited with this one.

“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me?

And when I am for myself, what am I?

And if not now, when?”

It mostly makes me just question my life and what I am doing. There are some deep existential ideas posed in those three questions. It hurts to think about them too hard. Especially the last one, but me being me I gravitate to it naturally. It’s the perfect distraction from myself. Deep, but ultimately meaningless. Ideas like this aren’t meant to be trifled with, just toyed with as idle playthings. Take ideas like these too seriously and it’s game over, man. There is not enough known to flesh out a good enough answer. Treat it like a brain teaser though, and it’s way more palatable. Such is life.

But then I can just listen to some music, and more will be expressed in 4 bars than I could ever express in a thousand words.  I’ve never written anything near as beautiful as this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2SPeEeCj3I

The title of the song translates to “gathering the wind”

More than anything, seeing the beauty of life in a place of positive energy made me happy beyond belief, mingled with sadness that it can’t be like this all the time. Skipping town while everything is going on  gives me a little different perspective, but I figure real happiness has to be lined with some sadness to really be happy. Thank you, eastern philosophy.

At some point, everyone moves on.

And if not now, when?

 

Symbols

It’s kinda fun to sit here and wait for the downpour. Sitting here full of anticipation to write and not really know where it’s going to go feels so full of potential. Potential is such a stupid term of endearment though. I just know that it needs to go somewhere, anywhere, and it will. It just does.

A day as beautiful as today happens less occasionally than it should. Really, days as beautiful as today could be everyday given the right frame of reference. I know that, but deep down I don’t believe it. There is too much doubt in my life for that type of surrender.

Every avenue I look down at this point feels like the paramount of cliche. Who am I, what am I doing and hoping to achieve, why why why why why why off to infinity. It doesn’t matter. It does matter. Everything and nothing is important based on what I dictate. Bring on the ranty existential bullshit that makes up around 99/100 of the content of this blog, and frame it cleverly so you’ll feel like you thought about these things in a measured fashion. Be positive, be negative, just throw out the presentable fashion of you that you want to come through with your writing voice.

This isn’t a true journal and never will be. I am not free to write whatever I want because of self-imposed limitations in my belief of this being a public forum, no matter how limited that public may seem. A true journal has no filters and I come here because operating within limits is where I think true creativity blooms. I like to think that, but mostly  I just want to rant.

Apparently I want something more than this medium can provide, and I need to take some time to find it. It’s everywhere and nowhere, and I realize that honest self-reflection far outweighs a well-written piece.

Outside of my binary star, I see people desperately seeking connection and achieving it because they will it into existence. So much of it brought into reality through sheer force of will, where the stakes seem immeasurably high. I see and try to wrap my brain around ideas again and again with little to win. I see until feel numb, and can’t process anything.

I gaze on passively, and listen.

I don’t want to post here anymore.

Why Bother

I am not thrilled to be here out of spite and rage, especially since it’s been awhile since I’ve been here period. I come here to write things that have some effect on me as a person though, and that really just happens less and less. Mostly due to cynicism, I believe.

Today’s episode encapsulates the life of ideas brought out by the petty and trivial tasks of everyday life. In this case, the office breakroom. One of my co-workers sent out a ranty email about people not doing their dishes (subject line: PLEASE GET YOUR DIRTY DISHES OUT OF THE SINK-  NOW!!!).

I know this and refrigerator cleanliness are always a bone of contention in any shared space. What bugged me about this rant though is that as the last person out of here on most nights, I have been doing all said dishes, putting them away, and cleaning the breakroom before I leave. As far as I can tell my reasoning is that it takes 10 minutes, it makes me feel better about the place I work at, and nagging everyone all the time is way more work than that ten minutes.

I never really care too much about doing a little extra janitorial work, but it made me feel slighted that someone can just up and spew all this outrage without having put in any of the time. They have no entitlement to be so mad about something they do so little to help out with.

There were many moments to bring it up as the person kept talking about it throughout my shift, but I kept my mouth shut, because the deep down feeling was I really didn’t care that much.

I played out a few possible scenarios of how the talk would have gone (when you work with people awhile, this isn’t too tall of an order) and all I could see was me trying to express outrage, and at best it being deflected onto others, at worst onto me. Then the depressing core of the idea appeared before me:

You don’t care what I think as much as I don’t care what you think.

In the end there would have been some words tossed out, a few “All I’m trying to say is…”, and hammered out misunderstandings, real or imagined. And absolutely nothing would have been accomplished, besides wasting some time and some useless recognition for what i do by cleaning up a little.

There is a sense of freedom in this idea though, a sense of letting go. At the same time it’s one of the most cynical thoughts I’ve had in a long time. So many things are not worth discussing with others due to this idea, and the people you do discuss things with are just people you agree with (though I know that’s an over simplification). There is a major caveat to this idea though. I don’t respect this person. That makes all the difference.

Things can just go on as they always have. They can rail on about the injustices in our inconsequential little bubble, and I’ll just go do the dishes because I enjoy the sense of accomplishment.

Here and Now

I really should have ported over long ago. Something as self-driven as this blog is a project I should have at least some pseudo-control over. Not that trusting it to some great public-cloud is much better.

This has completely sidetracked me though, I had some great thing to write about that has slipped for now. Let’s give it a second.

Let’s start at this: I made a decision yesterday. I know, I know, good for you. Way to be a functioning human being. But for me in mind and spirit, it was a momentous step. I decided to cut the green dragon out of my life. I know it won’t be forever, but it will be for now.  I was just done, there’s not really a huge story behind it. A little story of course, but I’ll get there in due time.

I had already been phasing it out, but it would swing through with a vengeance when it did, and I already have enough demons I can’t control in my life. Something I can point to and banish is a pretty easy call to make with all the other intangibles floating around. I still sit back and think how stupid it is, everything I hope to control. The heart of that statement is a lie though, I don’t hope to control anything. Every struggle for control I see ends up at some cost that wasn’t planned on, and unintended consequences/responsibilities. It keeps things interesting in the short term, but that dries up so quick. At the same time, I do see a struggle worth going all-out for, so it really boils down to what you subjectively think is worth it. And that makes this exercise here seem immensely silly, and that wouldn’t be too far off the mark.

I can take just about everything I think, everything I feel, everything I create and measure it against some subjective, made-up ruler that holds all the importance. I look at this world of ideas and it makes me think that there is no such thing as objectivity, at least not in the world of ideas. Truth outside of my myself really feels like a stretch, unless it’s on the level of what a proper pint is. There’s some objective reality I can get behind. Whether my ideas of me as a self have any validity? That seems impossible.

All I feel I can do is look at this world and reality I have created, and look at what’s important to me. That which is important to me, is infinitely important to me. The rest is background noise, but can show me things I hadn’t considered before, so it’s a valuable thing to have around.Everything outside of that seems so tangible. I can stare out to the horizon over an ocean or from a mountaintop and have a good idea of how far out it really goes. I can look into the cosmos and have at least a general ideas of how far out those stars are.

I can gaze inward though, and see the void stretching out before me, infinite. I make promises to this expanse expecting something in return. What’s maddening is that it provides in response to what I dump in, which makes objectivity reality sound really stupid.