Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts

Rising Above the Haze





I feel like there’s something special about the view of the sky at higher altitudes… maybe it’s from being physically nearer to the clouds, or perhaps it’s something in the air pressure; probably it’s a combination of both. Or perhaps it’s just my own placebo fooling my senses because I feel so powerfully that I am at finally where I belong. There are times when the sky looks so strikingly indistinguishable from the most beautiful painting, just placed there in all its glory so high above us, particularly at those fleeting times when the sunlight hits the clouds from just that right angle to unleash those gorgeously glowing vanilla skies.

Whatever the case, I find it so incredibly interesting that there is so much grandeur in this world all around us, particularly in the sky so high above us because we rarely get the chance to view it from any other angle than we have here at ground level. We’re so utterly confined to the planet’s surface, not necessarily any less beautiful in its own right but so much less identifiable simply because we are so bounded by the surface, by the relentless tug of gravity rooting us to it. But when we get those exceedingly rare opportunities to free ourselves from these chains and actually bring ourselves up above the haze of the surface world we spend so much of a majority of our time viewing it all from, and look upon the same familiar world yet from such an unfamiliar vantage point, there is so much more beauty laid bare we are otherwise entirely ignorant of.

Consider a simple airplane trip, for example. As the plane begins to roll down the runway it’s not so different from any typical car ride. You feel the wheels rumbling over the imperfections of the pavement, and the shuddering of the vehicle as those vibrations rumble through its body. But something amazing happens as the plane reaches that critical speed and the upward lift of air acting on the craft’s body almost seems to cause the oh-so-familiar ground to just casually drop away just as much as it seems like the plane is actually being lifted up from it all.

And then gradually the influence of humanity upon the planet grows less and less apparent, even as the networks of straight lines and right angles so absent from the natural structure of things bare themselves so glaringly to you. The awesome immensity of the planet is further revealed to you as you climb higher and higher and still there is no end in sight. What a truly gigantic landscape we are all a part of!

As you approach the cloud line which was once so high above, so utterly and completely out of your reach and comprehension, you start to notice what I have found to be one of the most striking observations I have ever witnessed—that the blanket of clouds, for the most part, is so much like another surface, as if occupying its own sphere encircling the planet. This was never apparent to me looking up from the ground. But gazing down from the window of an airplane I find myself captivated by this; somehow it’s incredibly beautiful that this should be the case.

And you realize how relatively insignificant we each are, individually for sure but even as a whole. There are no actual boundaries; unless you’re looking at a fabricated map you could not possibly tell that some arbitrary invisible line separates one state, or one country, from the next. You see how pockets of civilization tend to be tightly packed, especially around significant landmarks, almost as if huddling together against the incredibly vast expanses of unsettled wilderness still surrounding so much of our prized civilization.

Even the cities themselves don’t have actual boundaries. There is no protective bubble enclosing a city and declaring it as such. If not for the signs on the roadside, or the data from your GPS, you would not truly know that you have entered or exited some decided “city limit.” No, they are simply collections of structures and grids placed upon the Earth’s surface, utterly at the mercy of all of nature’s influences just as everything else is. They have no privileged rights, no advantage over any other point on the globe except for the most carefully positioned among them. You’re just surrounded by structures and a certain density of other people.

At some height the roads and highways vanish into obscurity, as do entire cities at sufficient elevation. From high enough above the surface you cannot even see evidence of the presence of our own race, except maybe for the grid work of landscaping so blatantly obvious because of all the straight lines and right angles. But then your aircraft starts to descend upon its destination, ever so gradually, and you are left to observe the reverse of all of these thought processes as this privileged vantage point is taken back from you, and your suddenly-heavy feet are returned to within the haze of Earth’s solid surface so that the glory of it all can tower over you so tantalizingly once more.

Posted by Unknown | at 11:25 PM | 0 comments

Merging Two Worlds



 
I realized long ago that my interests, my devotions and my heart exist almost exactly in equal depth for two discrete places—Kansas City, the place I currently call home and where my family is and all of my current investments such as school and work are rooted, and Cheyenne, Wyoming, the place I used to call home and where so many of my closest friendly bonds still reside where I grew up during my most formative early teenage years. Each place has more than its own fair share of positive considerations and factors to keep each set of emotions, interests, devotions and investments powerfully tied to them. I take a lot of comfort in this, but for that reason I find myself stuck in a perpetually awkward state of longing for whichever place I’m not currently breathing in the sweet air of at each passing moment.

So there is a kind of distance which always separates me from both places simultaneously…because this distance isn’t just the obvious physical one, for however many actual miles are between myself and one of these beautiful places, that same number of miles, manifested emotionally, always works to separate me from the other. If there was some way that I could merge the two worlds, and have forever all of the cherished variables that I so long to be a part of, all of them combined in the most wonderful way, I would tear apart the fabric of space-time with my bare hands to bring them together and I don’t think I could ever ask for anything more.

There are almost 700 torturous miles separating these two worlds. And each one has its own intense well of gravity, always mercilessly tugging me away from the other. Only periodically do I get the opportunity to cut the chains keeping me rooted here in Kansas City and let myself drift that way, over to Cheyenne. The largest of these chains are those of school and work—because only with the blessing of each of these can I make time to temporarily break free from their otherwise unrelenting grip on my focus. I can always still keep in touch and communicate in ways not so different from what is usually taking place anyway, so it’s not so much a matter of separating myself from the people I’m surrounded by here as it is a matter of separating myself from the career-oriented lifestyle I’m surrounded by. And so the beautiful fairy tale setting I can’t shake from my mind (if I even wanted to) is the one in which all of the people I so often find myself dreaming about, together in equal parts both here in Kansas City and there in Cheyenne, are here with me together at once. I absolutely cannot think of a better world than one which incorporates all of the best attributes of both of these, seamlessly combined into a true fairy tale setting if there ever was one.

For obvious reasons my most immediate concerns are those of school and work, and so there really is no question about where I need to be now…at least for the time being, in this moment. And being closer to family, both immediate here in town and slightly less immediate only a couple hours away, is a very nice thing. But on the other hand, in the place that I used to call home (and still do for a fleeting two weeks out of the year), I have some of my longest and deepest-held friendships and the physical surroundings which never fail to provide intensely treasured nostalgic feelings of their own. And although this woefully short amount of time I’m able to take advantage of each year is so relatively brief, separated by about twenty-five times this amount of time, in which I must remain devoted to more productive pursuits here at “home”, all of this time and distance that seems so daunting all the while I’m away seems to just dissolve and fade away the moment I arrive and see all the familiar faces I’ve been missing for so long. And then it’s almost as if I was never even gone at all. It’s a feeling of belonging simply without compare.

If there is ever any doubt in my mind about whether I should really be utilizing my entire vacation time to travel out there and mingle into the ongoing social network, whether I’m still going to fit in and be appreciated, it is utterly demolished almost immediately as I never fail to seamlessly blend back into the scene. It's funny, sometimes, how often people are surprised that I'd take my vacations and come out here to Cheyenne time after time. "Cheyenne, of all places?!" Yes, beautiful Cheyenne, so full of all these wonderful friendships. Truth is, there's no place in the world I'd rather be when I get the chance.

I guess I could say that I’m more physically tied to my current home, and more emotionally tied to my prior home. But this is without a doubt mostly because of the simple fact that I’ve lived here for so long and have career-oriented goals that have been progressing for much of that time. I guess I could also say that my bright future (as its prospects are currently situated) lies here in Kansas City, while my longed-for past (as its prospects are currently situated, as well) lie all the way over there in Cheyenne. There are some deep considerations in this realization, because there are many important variables which are so easy to overlook if I let imagination run rampant and neglect to consider more than sheer longing for the past and what I only get to experience briefly each year.

There is something to be said, of course, of the fact that my time spent in Cheyenne each year is a worry-free vacation from my career-oriented goals and that these emotions are undoubtedly heightened by this. Admittedly, by the end of each visit there is a part of me looking forward to returning to my busy, productive routine back in Missouri. I do enjoy being busy and productive, and I always have to admit that the carefree vacation really does need to come to an end, as far as my bright future is concerned. So it’s difficult to say how things would be if the situation was reversed and I was using my vacation time each year to visit friends and family back in Missouri. I think it would be strikingly similar, in its own way—I would miss family and friends, and I would try to set aside time to come visit, and I would probably feel an intense longing for such times once I returned (to Cheyenne). But I would realize that I needed to return, because I would have a productive life to continue when my vacation time ran out. The two versions are not so different. Such is my devotion to and my connections in both places.

Perhaps the most important consideration of all is that I’m really only drawn back to Cheyenne each chance I get because of the incredible people in it. I’m not particularly drawn to the place because of the place itself—although if I happened to be passing by and absolutely none of my good friends remained, I’d probably drive through and stop at a couple familiar places at least to appreciate some nice nostalgia. But my true interests lie with the inhabitants and for this reason I need to be careful not to rely too much on these people who might not stick around themselves. I must take this fact of life for all of its implications, because when all things are considered the most important thing, besides the familiar friendly faces I definitely would like to be close to, is to be situated physically where I can make the most for myself regardless of the people that have every reason of their own to come and go (the same thing applies, of course, to Kansas City). In an ideal world I would situate myself in the best physical location and have every friendly face from anywhere I could desire forever within my reach—but such is not even remotely likely going to be the case, and this is the primary reason for my wandering mind to create and hold onto this idea which shines so brightly in its potential glory for how I could possibly have the best of all possible worlds right here in the palms of my hands, at least in my idealized daydreams.

So I always find myself torn so cleanly down the center when I consider all of the possibilities that I might have any control over establishing for myself. Kansas City has its obvious physical advantages, and of course a good many deep friendships, while Cheyenne has its unmistakable nostalgia and harbors some of the most deeply-rooted friendships of all. This is the nature of my longing to merge the two worlds, because if I could remain here in this better-situated location on the planet’s surface while still having these friends (combined with my many friends I already have over here) then I would be hard-pressed to imagine a way to be any happier with the Universe.

To anyone who knows me particularly well, or even not, it must go without saying that the primary key to the happiness found in Cheyenne is one Dave Ewaliko, with whom I’ve shared most of every single one of my most cherished memories and most deeply held thoughts. And this isn’t to discount any of the almost countless other intensely-cherished friendships I have rooted in the city (both cities). These people should know who they are. I adore every single one to the utmost of my overflowing heart.

I find it absolutely incredible how intertwined my thoughts are with a place full of people that I’ve only fleetingly kept in physical contact with over so many long years. Early on, after the intense move well over eight years ago (2004), I always comforted myself with the thoughts that the “loss” of Cheyenne, or rather, "The Motherland," as Dave and I came to refer to it, would fade away in time. And of course I was right, to a degree. But there is still somewhat more longing than I had anticipated, or at least had hoped for. I guess I always knew deep down that it was going to be a “scar” for life. It’s interesting how emotional damages can be so much more excruciating than even the most severe physical ones. In the summer of 2007 I fell off a house while working construction and broke my back... fractured my 12th lumbar vertebrate. But miraculously, I feel little pain or even anything more than occasional discomfort at this stage afterwards. The only reminder I ever have is some discomfort if I stand in one place too long, and this doesn’t happen often. It makes things like washing dishes frustrating. On the other hand, I am haunted regularly by the memories of past fortunes that were left behind once my family moved away in June 2004 and the imaginings of things that might have gone so differently had this not been the case. I do see them as wonderful memories, but even the most incredible of feelings can simultaneously bring the most intense longings. And these memories, for all the times that they bring unrivaled happiness and comfort, can sometimes revive the most tragic despair for such good times which are so long gone. Such is the double-edged blade of nostalgia.

I can say in complete honesty that the absolute best days of my mid-adolescent teenage years were spent in a two-and-a-half-year period of unrivaled bliss over in Cheyenne, namely with two incredible friends, none other than Dave Ewaliko and Cliff Cox. In those years we had conquered the world, as it had mattered to us at the time. Yet I can also say in complete honesty that the absolute best days of my elder teenage years were those I spent with my best friends I had here in KC, with Sean Lusher and Jacob Knepper and, similarly, it feels like I had conquered the world all over again with them. The value I hold to each time period is so similar in its worth that I cannot pin down a specific route that would have played out for the better if it could have been more long-lasting—if I had stayed in Cheyenne, then those mid-teenage years definitely would have culminated in ever-increasing intensity as we aged into adults, and yet those late-teenage years I spent here in KC would have had a more powerful foundation, and in turn a much more powerful transition into adulthood, if I had arrived here sooner. The dividing line is, in all practicality, because of all of the intricacies involved in each particular case, impossible to gauge effectively. The thoughtful devotion may be an obsession, but it is an obsession I passionately indulge.

Because even still every time I hear or read about issues Dave is having over there in The Motherland, I want nothing more than to just leap head-first into my car and drive nonstop all the way there, pull into his driveway, throw him into the passenger seat, and drive to Anthony's Pizza (even though it doesn't exist anymore... but any place would do). Then we could go back to his house, stopping at the Mini-Mart for 64 oz. sodas on the way, to laugh our vocal cords sore playing Fifa Soccer or Monkey Ball or watching MXC... and I know in my heart that, at least for the duration of our game-playing or TV-watching, any troubling issues would be in the back of our minds (if anywhere at all). His dad would say hi to me in his ever-soft voice as he rushes to the kitchen to cook sausages for us, his siblings Cece and Jonah would be playfully screaming and throwing each other around the house, Autumn would be laughing at it all or telling them that they're stupid, and his mom (though she has sadly passed on since such memories were so deeply rooted) would be sitting on the couch, telling me about how “special” I am. How special is it when a few experiences easily recalled into memory can rival, or even surpass, the most impressive dream?

They say that home is where the heart is, and I say that if home is where the heart is then there is not a single homeless person in the world. But some people might be unfortunately misplaced.

Long ago, Dave and I came up with a semi-serious pact that when we're wrinkly old geezers assigned to wheelchairs we'll still be sitting out on our neighboring porches (because we will be next-door neighbors), chatting about all the insanity we lived through and all the girls we chased, cherish and loved. It sticks with me, in part because I truly want this to happen. In a way I can precisely imagine the two of us, sitting side-by-side in our rickety old rocking chairs, cracking jokes and reminiscing about all the good times (most of which are yet to come), cracking the same old jokes, Dave bursting out in his oh-so-characteristic hearty laugh (although the years will have taken their toll on it), and just simply enjoying truly cooperative company with each other as a gorgeous Vanilla Sky makes its complex interactions over the horizon.

Everybody has forever to look forward to. Life is absolutely not short, it is the longest thing possible to experience and because we have absolute control over our investments within it I feel it is of the most profound importance that we pursue those things most cherished to us. Because forever is so much more than just a word… forever is the amount of your life that you'll always know you have all such people in your life. And even when they're not around you anymore, or very fleetingly so, as unfortunate as that is, there are still so many ways to talk with them, and even visit whenever possible. Distance plays its unfortunate role in so many cases between people who would otherwise enjoy nothing more than being in each other’s company, but at the same time this same distance can help to strengthen and filter out everything but the most cherished connections of all. And you will know you have one of those true and long-lasting friendships when you can show up on their doorstep after absolutely any amount of time and distance and within mere moments all of the most deep and cherished feelings of all come flooding back as if a tidal wave was unleashed from the deepest depths of the ocean. And you'll know when that term "forever" is to the fullest extent when you see such a person after so much time has passed, and you’ve each pursued such separate paths, and yet each time your paths cross once again it seems exactly like there was no time passed at all.

It may be a fanciful daydream to imagine myself having the best of both of these worlds combined, but if nothing else at least I can collide and merge them within in my own mind, and imagine how wonderful things would be if I had all variables in my grasp at all times. But of course I cannot physically have this fortune. I can, however, relish in all the bountiful memories each holds, and pursue with the best of my abilities all of the time that I can spare to continue to make the best of each, as separately as they must be, and as intertwined as they can be, because I have the power to make it so as often as I can manage.

And so I am somewhat distanced from my current home, here in Kansas City, emotionally, and from my long-lost home, there in Cheyenne, physically. But life is complicated, circumstances are complicated, cooperation is complicated, and my deepest desires are perhaps most complicated of all. So if I seem a little bit distant at any point in time, to anyone from either location, please understand that as much as I’d love more than anything to be there sharing time and memories, old and new, with you, I might seem a bit distant only because I am.

Posted by Unknown | at 7:06 PM | 1 comments

The Garden of Forking Paths




There is this theory in quantum mechanics called the "many-worlds" interpretation. To my (limited) understanding--not to attempt to claim that I know practically anything about quantum mechanics--it theorizes that there is no "waveform collapse" when two potential futures are reconciled. Instead of one reality, and only one reality, progressing continuously through each and every decision in your life (and everyone’s lives), one world line path becomes two (or more) at every possibility point, separating into alternate, parallel universes, and this branching happens every time a choice is made. While this description may not be the one a trained quantum physicist would try and explain to you, I’ve gotten the impression that this is the general idea when applied to the everyday world around us. So I’ll just run with that; whether or not this understanding is technically accurate and true, it’s incredibly interesting nonetheless.

The most striking disturbance I have with this idea is…what exactly determines when a timeline branches? Does this occur at any conscious decision? Or just those that exceed some somehow-determined boundary of significance? If it's the former there would of course be a truly unfathomable number of such universes, infinite in all practical meaning. And even with the latter, unless the boundary was extremely high, there would be an enormous number of realities still, perhaps virtually infinite as well. There must either be a line or not, and if so, then where is it and how is it determined? And then I wonder, is there a branch for every possible decision one could have made? For instance, if I am asked to pick a number between one and ten, and I pick five, is there a branch for each other answer I could have given, or only one for considering a true-false scenario (I either picked five or didn't play the game)? Technically I could have said anything--one, zero, ten, fifty, rhinoceros… I might not even have spoken a response; maybe I nodded or decided to dance. The Universe shouldn’t know whether or not some potential answer was actually valid within the scope of the question, so I'm intrigued to wonder whether the branching is only done when a choice is made or not made, or if there truly is a branch for every possibility.

My other most striking concern with the theory is that none of this is tangible in any way. Even if one exists in five hundred billion parallel universes, all branched from various moments in one's own and in others' universes, it will go completely and utterly unrealized by each. So does it even matter? Does something you can't possibly hope to demonstrably verify have any meaning whatsoever? While the thoughts of all this bring me some comfort, thinking that there might possibly be versions of myself who made so many of the “right” decisions in life which I only later came to realize in this reality, the impossibility of confirmation prevents most of the comfort I wish I could feel. The excitement mostly fizzles out when I grasp that no possible branching can actually provide any true objective meaning.

Still, I can't help but imagine what this all can imply in the mind, if nothing else, at least at the most significant turning points of my life. I suppose inspiration for self-reflection is worth something, if this theory provides us nothing else to glean. Because there is a garden in your mind, a rich, fertile ground from which any combination of possible thoughts can be planted and grown to whatever lengths and however many branchings you might take them to. All it takes is a thought, a seed, and then some consideration, some nourishment, and your mind is free to wander to your flooded heart’s content, if you just let it bloom. Enjoy the fruits of imagination.

Perhaps the most significant factor of all for the ways in which a person’s world lines might have branched furthest is in the environment one grows up with. Every time my family moved (my mother was active duty Air Force) was certainly a very significant "choice-point." I was born in Maryland and then lived in Washington D.C., Massachusetts, Missouri, Nebraska, Wyoming, and then Missouri again. Any one of these could have ended up being my family's permanent residence under other circumstances. If there is an alternate universe for each of these possibilities, in which I've grown up in a completely different environment, surrounded by utterly unfamiliar landscapes and cityscapes and circles of friends and acquaintances, they would of course have progressed in radically different ways from this one and from each other. I would have grown up with strange people and likely done things I never even dreamed of in this reality. In an alternate universe there could be a version of myself, doing whatever it is he might do, who has lived in Maryland his whole life, who never moved away in the first place. He’s been there all his life. How bizarre that idea is! I mean, I’m trying to imagine and I just don't know…I am utterly biased towards the life I have actually led. It's very difficult to imagine a life that progressed completely differently since a point before I was even two years old. But it could exist, and how interesting would it be to meet him? I wonder what he’s made of his life up to now, what friends he’s chosen, what pursuits he’s held on to, what successes he’s enjoyed, what failures he’s endured and learned from. I wonder what he’s like, how good of a person he is. I wonder if we would be best friends.

This also means that there could be a version of me who never moved from Cheyenne, Wyoming so many years ago. Cheyenne, where I grew up during my most formative years and have retained, even to this day, some of the most powerful friendly bonds I’ve ever made. This is the thought that hits home most of all--that in some unreachable parallel universe may be a version of me who didn't miss out on the Cheyenne life during all these long years since my family moved away. He was there all along, oblivious to the suffering of the “me” who wasn't. Of course, this version wouldn’t have it all good. He would never have met so many of the incredible friends I’ve made since my family moved to Kansas City. For all the memories that I could possibly imagine might have had the chance to have been made if I had been there in Cheyenne all along, there are a comparable number of experiences that I actually did make here where I’ve been. Of course there are pros and cons at every point, which I guess is why I am so struck by this whole idea, but it’s so completely fascinating regardless. This is not regret or despair, but awe and wonder at simple possibilities my mind can fathom.
I just wish I could communicate with him, if he somehow truly exists in some parallel realm. I wish I could ask this incarnation of me how those… wow, eight years, now, as of summer 2012, have been. Were they as wonderful and blissful and full of nonstop joy and appreciation as they've played out in my head countless times? Did the friendships last and stand the test of time even better than they have through my occasional visits? Are we having the time of our lives together anywhere near like we’ve had in so many of my dreams manifested in the deepest sleep? Am I on a bright career path? Did I fall in love? Has it lasted? Am I better off?

I would ask him about all my friends over there. How did things go when I was around all along, as opposed to only briefly during some select summer or winter vacations? Are things as great as I have always imagined they would have been, or have I perhaps been over-projecting my guilt of leaving? Is everyone still good friends with each other? Did I help to provide some sort of social adhesive to people who otherwise would have drifted apart? Do we all still have as much fun in this world as we have when I come to visit from my own? Or are things largely the same, on the grand scale of things, minimally affected by whether I’m actually there or not? It wouldn’t even truly matter what the realities may be, because they are all ruthlessly interesting regardless, no matter how much positive influence I might be projecting into such a reality where I might have actually had a role to play in its overall “success.” Of course I want to have had, and may see myself as having, such an impact. But actually knowing the full truth is its own joy altogether.

I would then ask him about Dave, unquestionably the deepest, most profound, intertwined and enjoyable friendship I have ever had. How is Dave? What is he like, having had me there all this time? As things are, Dave and I have taken, in some ways, very different paths since we parted ways in 2004. There are some things that we don't quite see eye to eye on now, but many, many that we still do… but these differences are trivial, and the floodgates inevitably open so wide when we reunite. And all the long years and all the daunting miles that have haunted our separation are swept away as all the memories and all the connections we have ever formed come flooding back in like a raging river, unstoppable and undeniable. Then it's almost as if those years and miles were never even in the way to begin with, and we can enjoy the shared glory of our friendship for whatever time we have. At best, usually, I get this for two weeks of each year. But how different might it have been if we had remained neighbors perpetually? How much positive influence might I have had for him and him for me? It's difficult to say, to say the obvious. I get chilled just putting serious thought to it. My mind gets a bit cloudy; there are far too many variables. But I imagine, with all the honesty I can muster, that it would be an incredibly beautiful thing, for each of us and in each other. I feel like it would outshine any downside to having remained there all along by enormous degree. Such is this single connection.

So it ends up being a little awkward, this longing to be in both places at once. If it were somehow possible to combine the best of both worlds it would solve so much. If only I could just cut Cheyenne out of the earth (people, power, plumbing, everything) and fly it over to Missouri and lay it down in some nearby open area, some already-prepared jigsaw puzzle piece of an empty space to drop it in. If I could incorporate the friends from both sides into my current everyday life, if I could have all of my deepest friendships right here, each and every one of them within the reasonable means of each and every other one of them to connect with, I would be hard-pressed to desire anything else in this world.

And then I wonder what if each romantic relationship had not ended? This is another huge significance, assuming that each relationship was aimed at the long run, if it had gotten far enough to be established as such, as they should be. Inside alternate branching realities, based on different sums of decisions and factors, each case could have progressed onto some wildly different path. So perhaps these are still going strong in some alternate universes, where whatever it is that messed them up was somehow avoided by some pivotal decision unrealized in this one. The ability to observe the results would be most interesting in these cases, as well. How far would they have gone by now? Would there be a marriage on the way? Might I have a family yet? Could things have been worked out effectively, or was it doomed no matter what? Was the outcome I’m familiar with inevitable? These curiosities are impossible to determine, ultimately, sitting here surrounded by the perpetual flow of a single course of history… and that frustrates me. Unknowns are so frustrating, and I now realize this is one of the reasons why this whole theory is so captivating to my mind. It provides for me a means to ponder on what could possibly have gone differently, and produce an outcome entirely separate from the one which I’m so fundamentally familiar with. It doesn’t need to imply that you wish this imagined outcome to have been the case, it only means that the alternative is interesting in that it never came to be but you know it had even the slightest chance to. Because the willful mind is such an incredibly wondrous thing, providing for us the limitless possibilities to imagine countless realities as suits our whim, and consider what certain outcomes might have come about given alternate circumstances. And perhaps we might even learn something useful for this objective reality which we actually have control over.

What if my father had not left ten years ago? That would be another extremely different reality, another one I can hardly comprehend--the impact would be huge and profound. It’s amazing how some things become so normalized, so ingrained into our minds simply because it’s all we know, because we can only experience one single timespan, because that’s how the world around us works, apparently. It becomes hard to imagine things any other way. And when you try, you get this vague idea that it would have been so nice, but…getting more than that out of it seems difficult. It's hazy, like there is some general sense of how things would be, but... the data is just simply insufficient. There are far too many variables, again. You can only wonder, and imagine what that version of you is experiencing in the world that you project for them in your mind.

And what if I had picked a different college, or a different degree program, or not moved out with my brother several years ago, or even not written this? There are so many possibilities for things to have gone differently. And of course there would be unfavorable parallel universes, as well. There would be one in which I dropped out of high school (since the thought crossed my mind), or never went to college, or never bought my current vehicle, or never had that very first conversation with Dave, or for that matter any other person who’s ever been in my life.

The fascinating thing is that any, or, really, all, of these twists and turns throughout the garden of forking paths might be true realities of other representations of me. And of you, and of everyone, with some details changed. I suppose this is why they say the past is so dangerous. Not completely, of course--everything can be seen favorably, at least constructively, in some way. The good memories are, of course, positive reinforcements, and the more the better. The bad ones, however, are useful in their own ways—they can be warnings, lessons, and points of comparison. They can be things to avoid, experience to pass on. Optimism is a very, very powerful thing.

So it's all a profoundly interesting thought experiment, really, this little introspective here. It’s a daydream session, a trip down nostalgia lane with a fun twist. I'm sure everybody is aware of various moments where their lives took a decisive turn in some direction. Does it interest others that those choices might have spawned their own realities? Even if you can only ever attempt to imagine their implications, this can still provide some valuable insight for you if you can relate to it effectively. And hopefully you can shape those insights into positive applications for what you actually do have knowledge and control over.

I'll say this: if I could somehow verify that these alternate realities do indeed exist, and if I could somehow determine their locations in space-time, I would do everything in my power to tear a wormhole in the fabric of space-time right here in front of me with my bare hands. I would figure out how to navigate myself through them in any direction that I choose and give myself free reign to visit some of these other possibilities. Just to see for myself. I wonder how some of those other realities have turned out. And even if I come across a particularly beautiful one, I'll come back, for sure…

at least to say goodbye.



Posted by Unknown | at 10:15 PM | 4 comments

By the Sheer Force of My Will

(August 8th, 2011; revised April 1, 2012)



I just want to grab some people and shake them with a perfect blend of vigor, urgency and compassion and say “Listen to me; it doesn't have to be like this. You can have what you want. For that matter, you can know what you want. You can seek it and obtain it. You can establish a plan of action and you can implement this plan. You can make it this way. You can make yourself how you want to be. You can surround yourself with people who appreciate and complement you and bring out such traits ever-further. You can even work together with these people for some of the goals you share. You have more influence than you know!” And because they probably won’t genuinely take this gesture to heart, I wish I could transport some of my will somehow across the space between our minds and help them in the ways that I know they can be helped. If only they would open up the door, or at least unbolt it.

But I have only so much influence on another person by the sheer force of my own will, as powerful as this is. Someone needs only to be willing to pursue similar wavelengths to open potential’s door to infinity—but it takes two… and I am (as everyone is) only one. Yet every time I close my eyes she behaves exactly how I wish she would and we are doing together precisely what I believe we should. I at least have this power. This power can make so much difference within the fantasies of hopes and dreams, but means next to nothing in reality if the other does not reciprocate in some way. And so if I’m sitting out on my back porch, enjoying my own company, then the act of closing my eyes and spreading my mind’s wings brings as much hopeful thought as I could possibly care to allow. And this ability we all have is so truly incredible, and I cherish this ability with every fiber of my being. In imagination you can have absolutely whatever you want. But it doesn’t bring anything tangible, as only another person can. It doesn’t help to actually bring this person forth and willing to share their undivided attention with you. And so again it comes down to the incredible depths of the communications between two people who are each dealing with the wild complexities of their lives and their own minds and pursuits therein. But an overlap of pursuits holds immeasurable potential if only two people can merge their devotions in such a way to hunt it down together. And there is absolutely every possibility for this to be real, the wildest dreams realized, a fairy tale incarnate, even in the most apparently troubling cases. 


But she hesitates… they hesitate, even best friends hesitate, forever hesitating, so often seeming too reluctant to make just that little bit more of a connection which could bridge whatever gaps are keeping each other from enjoying some goal both know the other shares. And so I’ve been left for so long in this awkward position, trying to gauge what’s real among all of these connections I hold so dear and what is only a figment of my own wild imagination. 


I wonder endlessly what is it really that holds a person back from pursuing the most promising of pursuits? Of course there are potentially many, many legitimate reasons for this. But what are these reasons in each specific case? Are they really so severe to just shy away from anything more meaningful than the barest, most shallow sharing? I think in most of these cases they are unnecessarily extreme feelings of reservation, considering all the beauty that is there for the sharing and all the people that have every reason to provide for you (and for themselves) this everlasting connection. I am of course pointing at both romantic interests and friendly interests. Although the former is generally much more dramatic of a case, they really do share almost every sense of this idea. Just as romantic partners need to connect and share their thoughts and their interests and their devotions to each other, so do friends. Interests still need to be shared, devotions still need to be expressed. Their context is different, of course, but don’t let the connections slip away because what you think is a true friendship needs no maintenance.

Not everybody is out to hurt you. In fact, I would argue with anybody that the number of people that are likely out to hurt you is a miniscule fraction of what seems apparent on the surface. And among those people who have really hurt another, surely only a small fraction of them actually set out with the intention to do so. The vast majority of cases are probably unfortunate circumstances, perhaps even fallout resulting from the disasters of the very mindsets I’m trying to disclaim. Despite any number of emotionally abusive experiences somebody might have been through, this in no way speaks for everybody else. It only speaks for those specific cases. And while such an assortment of terrible experiences certainly does need to provide you with some degree of logic, and reason, and an understanding of the factors that played out in this way (most importantly so that you can recognize them sooner next time), they do not condemn every other human being on the face of the planet to inherently behave in the same manner. And this is where attitude, experience, and judge of character most importantly come into play. You want to avoid the oh-so-loathsome jerks as early as possible, of course, but you also need to be able to recognize a genuine, heartfelt interest if it happens to wander by. And so your standards need to be suited to the best combinations that you feel are worth your time pursuing. Caution is extremely important! But the general ratio between reservation and willingness is woefully lopsided in most of the cases I’ve seen.

Richard Marx sings this idea rather beautifully in his song “Loved” when he says “What good is being strong and hiding in some harbor if you and I end up all alone?” Being “strong” is a useful safety mechanism, for sure, but it should not be so extreme that nobody can ever truly get through to you. At another point in the song he sings “The two of us, we’re really children hiding underneath the armor that we wear.” And we are all children, in the sense that we have these base instincts, these ingrained desires to find those true romances and those deepest friendships. And what keeps us from them, so often, is this armor that we all construct over ourselves as we mature, perhaps usually either in response to an emotional tragedy or in anticipation of one. It can be so easy to let this coating of armor get out of hand and ultimately end up keeping everybody at such a distance that they can’t genuinely make a deep connection with you. Then you’ve traded one extreme for the other, because while it’s true that when nobody can get close to you nobody can hurt you so deeply, it’s also true that you will no longer enjoy such rewarding relationships.

It is so frustrating to be, in essence, paying for the mistakes of so many others in the past. This is what it feels like when, time after time, a person ultimately decides against any further pursuit out of the fear of a repeated occurrence from their own history. And I try my best to understand… I truly do, but my understanding can only go so far when I am standing here with my arms and my heart and my mind held so wide open and I’ve advanced as far as I can on my own terms alone. When I am utterly and completely ready to take a risk and take hold of what seems so ready and real and so full to bursting with potential, then it’s all clear as day to me. It’s time to make something more of this highest of possible beauties right here in front of us. But no amount of the most genuine showcases of deeply felt and deeply longed-for emotions and desires that a person is absolutely ready and willing to confide in and with another can truly convince them if they are, in the end, just not willing to give up the time of day. The sheer force of will is only going to ricochet off of a mind completely closed to a new idea. In this case it’s just not enough… and it can never be enough as long as this remains the case. It is a futile endeavor, has always been and will always be, whether or not you realize this is the case. What good is your puny willpower against the awesome might of a powerfully sheltered mind?

I want to cut her chains. I want to set her free from her fears and her constant hesitation. And it’s not just for the end result of romantic companionship… no, I genuinely want to help rid her of this, these fears and reservations and hesitations, even if I am not the object of her wildest dreams come true (as nice as that would be)… because I know that it’s unnecessary, this hesitant mind-set. I know that she’d willingly appreciate more if she willingly believed that such a thing was still possible. I know that this would benefit her at least as much as it would benefit me. And I have my laser chain cutter, right here in my hand, charged up and prepared, all set to go. I am ready and willing to do this. But I have to be able to get close enough to her, for it is only effective at so much range. Willpower alone can do nothing to free her. I need access to her.

When there is a rift between two people, a gaping chasm separating them by some daunting distance, then no amount of sheer willpower—although within one’s mind this is all they need—will close this gap and bring them into each other’s arms. They need to actually act, together, to bridge their interests and desires. One alone is not ever going to be enough to do this; at the very least the other needs only to stand at the bitter edge to accept the final pieces of this bridge and plant them securely into the ground. Even if I am entirely willing to put every last bit of effort into this on my own, I still need that welcoming gesture on the other side. That open invitation is the most crucial piece of all. In the absence of even this small effort the poor person fighting so hard to construct a bridge into the other’s mind is going to fall every single time without a suitable foundation to latch on to.

And I understand (some of) the reservations. I understand that there is a fear of not having found the “right one” whether or not you think you may have found it at the time—because, well, there is always, in all likelihood, going to be someone who comes around eventually who is seemingly (on the surface) “better” than your current “investment”. It’s wildly unrealistic to ever think that you have found the absolute best possible person to share your life with. Although I respect the idea of a “soul mate” as far as the devotion and appreciation invoked are concerned, I do not believe that this concept is actually true—because you will never know! But there is a critical factor to consider here, which is that no matter how promising a passing interest (or even a somewhat-well-known interest) appears to be to you, outside your current devotion, this might all be an illusion. In all likelihood, they appear more “attractive” than they actually will be if you were to run off together for more than a single night. The “game,” in such cases, most of the time, changes drastically once it’s no longer a “game” to those involved—when one or both people want a long-lasting companionship. This is one of the most fundamental necessities, I think, for two people to genuinely appreciate what they share—that, even when another potential interest comes along, the risks of giving up what has proven itself to be a worthwhile and beautiful romantic (or friendly!) connection do not outweigh the risks of dropping it all for the chance of this spontaneous spark. Assuming that a partnership has its share of “good” and “bad,” (more good than bad, hopefully) then the effort put toward reinvigorating this current companionship should be far more advantageous than the effort put toward dropping it and actually successfully developing and maintaining a “better” one based on some random fling and its subsequent rush of emotions.

Personally, I don’t care much about “evolutionary advantage” or any other such nonsense that some (even respectable) proponents like to go on about. I understand the concepts. I understand (though I have disagreements) that a man is “evolutionally advantageous” by “sleeping around” with any number of women—if only because his genes pass on, and (assuming a heartless fling) he is not assumed to be responsible to any major degree. Whether any number of us owe our existence to such a mind-set of the past, we do not live in a foraging society anymore… at least as far as “we” refers to the people that I know and who might ever read this. I think much of the argument is lost on modern society, by the very values which we’ve established as most treasured and sought-after in response to this ever-changing world. Both parties benefit, in the long run (and especially when a family is introduced into the equation, whether in reality or as a mutual desire), by sticking together; through thick and thin, for better or worse. Emotions run rampant all over the place, and I have difficulty imagining that this was ever not the case. But of course I don’t know—I didn’t live in the distant past. I am biased by today’s society, where I feel so strongly that all troubles can be conquered with the right amounts of efforts from all parties involved. And this applies until one party really has lost the majority of this connection for some tragic reason. But, although this really does happen sometimes, one should think long and hard about what this decision entails, if they really do feel like this is truly the case. It very well might be the case, unfortunately, but this should be one of the very last resorts. It is oftentimes one-sided, this decision—and the sheer force of the “victim’s” will is powerless to overturn this decision once the other has already crossed over into hopelessness and abandon.

As the complexities of our minds grow and evolve, so do our depths of feelings and the capacities in which we share and indulge them. Maybe it’s true that monogamy is vastly more suited to women, if only (but not entirely) for their child-bearing responsibilities, but this in no way proscribes gentlemen to behave oppositely—because a woman (and especially a woman and child) benefits immensely by a genuine, trustworthy, dedicated man. And this is what is frustrating more than anything else—that the men least clearly suited to provide this assistance and true commitment are the ones—sometimes—seemingly most sought after. Despite all of my efforts and concentration to understand it, this apparent trend simply baffles me. But because the attraction is perhaps so rooted in evolutionary biology, there is only so much I can do to influence others onto the “right” path and only so much judgment I can place on those who have perhaps very little control over their subconscious drives. Again, willpower on its own does not induce the changes necessary to prove that this total commitment is the “right path” on which to march onward. Nevertheless, it is endlessly frustrating and it doesn’t need to be this way.

She (or anyone else) only needs to step off her throne long enough to open up a door, or a window, or… something. But it’s not going to happen, this time. If it ever might have been a real possibility then that time came and went, at some point I was utterly clueless of. I realize this now. And I realize that I should have realized this long ago. But it took an incredible blow to rattle my senses back to right, and that blow is still resonating in my core.

Because when I’ve raised myself up so high, and have brought this person up with me the whole way, over so long a time period with all this hope and determination and goodwill and the feelings I’ve been solidifying all the while, only to eventually realize that the other person has in reality stayed chained and rooted to the ground the whole time… it’s a truly staggering blow. I am struck by the realization that I carried this person up with me to such incredible, hopeful heights with nothing more than the sheer force of my will—which of course holds no actual power over the harshness of reality. I cannot will another to share this with me when they were never actually even there, no matter how deeply I had convinced myself otherwise. Their presence was only an intense illusion created by the very feelings I felt so deeply and truly believed that they were accepting all along. At this point all that I’ve built up below me, full of my cherished hopes and dreams, cannot withstand the force of the realization of this falseness. The pillar shatters at its foundations, and it all crumbles down, and I am helpless but to fall with the jagged pieces.

Falling is fatal from such height. And I’ve been falling for a while, now; such was the effort that I had invested. The crater I’d make if I fell all the way to the ground would be devastating from all this distance I’ve been tumbling through. It would probably destroy the vast majority of my hope’s potential, and I would perhaps become one of these very people who seem doomed to perpetually hesitate at the sight of potential’s inviting doorway—so obviously entranced by the glimpse of such beauty on the other side but forever unwilling to sacrifice for it, to take anything more than even the smallest forward step. And this frightens me more than almost anything else, because clearly I have such a deep appreciation for the way things should be, for the way that people can relate and embrace each other and each other’s deepest qualities. But that is not going to happen. Although the structure I built up in this pursuit was destroyed, the blueprint still originates within me, and these fundamental beliefs that are the building blocks of a friendly or a romantic interest have not been damaged so much that they are also destroyed. They just need to be retouched a little bit, revised so that I can spot this illusion if it ever creeps up again before I’ve set myself up to fail so crushingly. And so as soon as I reacquire my senses I will stretch out my wings at long last well before I reach the bottom. I’ll make my way back over to some peaceful, inviting, safer waters, where I can remain secure for a time until I feel like I can better judge the true character of the object of the next pursuit. I am ready for this to take as long as is necessary to actually succeed next time. And so for now I just need my very own wings to save me, because at the end of any deep thought process one must realize that this is all they can truly count on.

I am ready to fly. In fact, I can feel these magnificent wings beginning to unfurl at this very moment.

Posted by Unknown | at 1:47 AM | 0 comments

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