The Complexity of Love

Love. Where do I begin?  I'm kinda into word usage and definitions, so let's start there.  Dictionary.com defines love as:

1. n. A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. n. A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child or friend.
3. n. Sexual passion or desire
4. n. A person toward whom love is felt; beloved person
5. v. To have love or affection for

This five point definition simply covers all of the bases in regards to love, however, love in and of itself is not always simple. The reason for this is that love exists in a very complex entity known as the human mind. Not the human brain, but the human mind.  I'm sure there are great debates out there on the topic of brain vs mind, but the way I see it, the brain is a physical, tangible organ that controls the function of the body.  The mind, on the other hand, is an abstract collection of ideas, thoughts, feelings, and emotions that adds depth to function and meaning to life. Where it becomes tricky is that Love (and all of it's depth) may exist in the mind, but it only resides there because it is tangentially permitted to do so by the function of the brain. I feel like I'm slipping off track here, so let's bring it back around with some logic: Matters of the mind are complex. Love is a matter of the mind. Therefore, love is complex. 

So, what are we to do with all of this complex Love?  Well, we can choose to do many things with love. We can acknowledge love, we can ignore love, we can question love, we can accept love, we can analyze love, deny love, embrace love, and the list goes on and on. Depending on the circumstances, I'm sure that each of us does all of these things with Love at some point in our lives. It just depends on for whom we have the love or from whom we receive the love. Lately I've been in a mood to think about Love. Not a singular specific love in my life, but rather the entire collection of my Love. One of my favorite thinking tools is the use of metaphor. So, without further a do, here is my grand metaphor for love: Love is a dwelling. It is mansion with many rooms. Each person we love has a room within our mansion of Love, and every room is different.  Some of the rooms are lighted and some of them are dark.  Some of the rooms are entered daily, yet others may go unvisited for months at a time. Some of the rooms are vacant; awaiting the arrival of a future love, while others are sealed off permanently for a lost love that will never return. Whatever the scope or circumstances of a love, all love has a place within our mansion of Love, or compound of Love, or cottage of Love, or whatever. 

After we allow ourselves to establish a metaphorical mansion of Love, the next step is to begin thinking about the people we love and figuring out what each of their rooms looks like and feels like. Are they stuffy? Are they airy? Are they vibrant? Are they drab? Are they cold? How are they lit? Maybe by a candle? Or perhaps a grand chandelier? What about the doors? Are they open or closed? Or maybe there's just a curtain at the entry way? Are there windows in these rooms? The scope of this task is enormous and its duration is infinite, for love is fluid and ever changing. Some times love will seem easy to describe and other times it will seem impossible. Going forward as I continue to seek a greater understanding of my Love, I am sure I will feel overwhelmed, at times, by its complexity. It is at these times that I will return once more to the origin of my metaphor...

Love is a dwelling; a place of residence; a home. Love is a shelter.  Live in it.

..

The Eve of Tomorrow

Tomorrow, for the first time in 8 years, I will start a new job.  I am starting a new job because I quit my old job. I quit my old job because I read a book. I read the book because I made a friend. I made a friend because the universe wanted me to. If ever an award was to be given out for the Best Use of Oversimplification, those last few sentences would surely win me the grand prize. Beyond and between those sentences lies the depth that you would hope exists when a reasonable and responsible adult makes a life changing decision.. Contemplation, conversation, emotion, it's all in there.

The book is called The Alchemist, and I highly recommend it to everyone. The basic idea of the book is that we each have something that we're supposed to do in life and this is our 'personal legend.'  When you realize your personal legend and actively want it, the universe will conspire to help you achieve it. Along the way you will be tested, but ultimately, if you stay the course, these tests and potential setbacks will become rewards in themselves because they are part of the journey to fulfill your personal legend. In theory we all know our personal legend when we are young, but as we go through life, we get distracted, re-directed or sometimes, we even altogether forget it entirely. No matter how or why we lose sight of it, the personal legend is still there. Always.

My personal legend manifested around age 8 when I realized that I wanted to be a teacher.  Although I was fortunate enough to have the means and opportunity to pursue my personal legend throughout the course of my life, for various reasons at various times, I did not.  On college graduation day, I vividly remember sitting in my seat and thinking,  "This isn't my path. This isn't what I'm supposed to be doing." At that time I took comfort in knowing that someday when the time was right and I was ready to sacrifice what was necessary, I would return once more to my path; my personal legend.

Then came marriage....and a mortgage...and a band...and a baby....and a layoff.....and a new job...and another baby...and all kinds of other things that can  fill up the years in a life. Some good things, some not so good things,  but all of them served the same secondary function of distracting me from my personal legend. Despite the distraction, I appreciate every one of these things and I embrace the identity that they have collectively created for me. I can say this with great comfort now, because I am back on the path of pursuing my personal legend. Because I made a friend who gave me a book.

Here comes the disclaimer... I can't promise that reading The Alchemist will impact you in the same way it impacted me. Before we crack the cover, we each come to the book with our own life story, our own level of faith, and our perception of universal energy.  The combination of these three elements will make reading the book a different experience for each of us. And that's okay. For me, reading The Alchemist was an opportunity to reflect on my life and re-connect with something bigger than myself. Even more important than the book though, is the incredible support I have received from my family and friends as I head down this path. If The Alchemist gave me the courage to stick my toe in the pool of positive change, than the people closest to me made it possible to jump in.

Looking forward to tomorrow...

..

2012 Favorite Pics

I'd really like to get better at using my camera in 2013.  I was given a great book as a Christmas present 2 years ago and several of my friends are knowledgeable regarding photography, so the resources are there. Hopefully I choose to make the time for it.

With that said, here are a few of my favorite pictures that I took in 2012.

 A lonely tree in the desert around the corner from our house

A Mountain at Arizona State University in Tempe, AZ

 Kristen plays with chocolate coins on our backyard

Ferris wheel in Casa Grande, AZ 

Grandpap at the carnival

A handful of enjoyment at the Strong Beer Festival in Phoenix, AZ

 Stranger in line with some good advice

The California Zephyr at the Amtrak station in Maricopa, AZ

The girls and a cousin in our backyard over spring break

Big sister got to the little sister's birthday present first

GTO at the Imperial Palace Auto Collection in Las Vegas, NV

The first cash register ever invented....but not really.

 

The Venetian in Las Vegas, NV

Waiting for a wedding at Rustler's Rooste in Phoenix, AZ

Muncle knows how to party (September 2012)

Lego project on Christmas Day with Popop

..

RWW: An Lesson in Patience

Now that school is back in session, Red Wine Wednesdays are technically over. That is of course, until this week.  This week, spontaneous mid-week wine time crept its way into my Wednesday evening. Just like that the word "over" is replaced by the word "irregular," and the sentence becomes, "Now that school is back in session, Red Wine Wednesdays are technically irregular. The circumstances leading up to the popping of a mid week cork are common, and experienced by many of the moms (and sometimes dads) out there 'living the dream" like me on a daily basis.  We are always on the go. Constantly moving; making lunches, loading up the van, taking the kids to school, going to work, picking up the kids, squeezing tushies into tights, breaking up fights, helping with homework, cooking dinner, fixing booboos, cleaning up messes, reading bedtime stories, and the list goes on and on. Just to be clear, I'm not looking for any sympathy here. I embrace all of these things (and many more) as part of the crazy ride called 'parenthood.' My point is just that once in a while, for me, it's nice to have a glass of grown up grape juice to unwind. This week I got what I asked for and then some.

Red Wine Wednesday #7: DeLille Cellars D2

I received this wine as a gift from a friend a while ago.  The wine, just like the friend, is from the state of Washington. D2 is the classiest wine to grace the entries of this blog and the most complex wine I have ever tasted. The complexity of this wine begins upon first sip, as the flavors are bold and abundant. Citrus, berry, and cinnamon are the most prominent for me, but I'm certain there are others in there too. As I began to swallow the strangest thing happened...I couldn't. The wine refused to leave my mouth.  I literally had to wait and take a breath before I could finish the swallow. Second sip...same deal. I paused for a moment, took a deep cleansing breath and thought deeply about the metaphor that just landed in my mouth.  Life is glass of classy wine.  Despite the speed with which we'd like to proceed in living life or drinking wine, in order to really enjoy the complexity in each experience, we must be patient. In the words of the great Roger Clyne, "Here's to life!"

..

Who Are You?

Who are you? Such a simple question at first. Who are you (read: what is your name?)? I am [insert name here]. See...simple. When we step away from the finite answer of a name, however, and allow this question some room to expand, things get interesting quite quickly.  Suddenly we have an existential question with depth to last for days.  Who are you? I am curious about how often people ask themselves this question and even more curious about how they answer it. One way to answer this question is to rely on the roles we play in life. I find it fascinating that the first role each of us plays in life, the role of a child, relies entirely upon the decisions of two strangers.  Our parents either planned to create us, or chose not to abort us and so now we exist. For each of us, being born is easiest part of determining who we are. We literally had no choice.

From birth on, however, things aren't so easy.  As we head through life we are exposed to more and more of 'the world' and we are faced with a great many choices. We live, we learn, we discover, we grow and somewhere along the way we gradually determine who we are. Our nature, our tendencies and our preferences all rise to the surface and we become identifiable. Identification is fascinating to me because it relies so heavily on definition.  I've long been a member of the "it is what it is, regardless of what you call it" camp, but then again, if you have no name by which to identify something, how do you know what it is? In my mind, the concept of definitions is dichotomous. On one hand, definitions are a relief because they provide order and reason (i.e. A law defines acceptable behavior within a society, a diagnosis defines a medical condition,etc.).  On the other hand, when definitions are applied to people, I find they become cumbersome. As I think about the process of determining identity a few questions come to mind:

How many times must a person perform an action in order to be considered a member of a certain community? If I go snowboarding once does that automatically mean I'm snowboarder? What if I go twice? A dozen times?

How does proficiency impact membership in a community? Do you have to be good at something to truly belong?

What role does reason play in action based definition? Is there a difference between stealing food to feed your starving family and stealing a CD just because you want it?  

What is the impact of enjoyment on identification within a community? If I no longer enjoy playing the drums, but I continue to play them, am I not still a drummer?

Is there a statute of limitations on action based definition? How far into the future should your actions follow and define you?


I don't have concrete answers to any of these questions, but I do feel that the definition of one's "self" is infinite. Over the course of the lifetime we are many things to many people, and our impact is always greater than we realize. We fill our days, months and years with many different experiences and if we're lucky we learn something from most of them. We love, we hate, we laugh, we cry, we help, we hurt, and we age. We all live one day at a time as we head towards whatever we believe will meet us at the end of this life. I for one, chose to live a thoughtful life filled with personal reflection. I live this way in the hopes that my end will come with a peaceful sense of clarity as I look back and answer, with great depth and detail, one final question....."Who were you?"

..

Take This Club and Shove It

On Monday it was announced that, for the first time ever, two women were invited to join the exclusive all male golf club known as Augusta National.

Located in the state of Georgia, Augusta National is a private golf club that was opened for rich white dudes in 1933. In 1990 they decided to break up the 'vanilla sausage fest' by allowing black male members into the club. Despite pressure from woman's advocacy groups in the early 2000s, Augusta National maintained it's all male status until....two days ago.  "Hooraay! Hooray!" said someone who is not me. Pardon my lack of enthusiasm, but I find this long overdue membership extension neither exciting nor inspiring. Congratulations Augusta National, 2 out of your 300 members have vaginas. That's a whopping .67 % of your total membership. How progressive!

The thing that irritates me the most about Augusta National is not its historical policy of exclusion, but rather its dichotomous position in the public/private debate.  To me a private club, like Augusta, should be allowed to include or exclude whomever it wants as long as no laws are broken.  I value the idea of privacy as a right. The problem for me is that Augusta National is a so called "private" club that hosts a very public (and very popular) golf tournament called The Masters. The Masters tournament is sponsored by publicly traded companies which make money by selling products to the entire population in a public marketplace. By hosting The Masters, Augusta National made a choice to step into the public arena, and as such, should have forfeited its right to exclusion on the basis of privacy a long time ago.


So, congratulations to Condi Rice and Darla Moore on your token acceptance to the all boys club. I wish you the best as you play golf and hang with the fellas.  Let me know when they get the tampon machine installed in the ladies room. Oh wait.....there is no ladies room!

..

It's Too Early for A-holes!

This morning I went to Walmart (save your judgement) bright and early to do the family grocery shopping and pick up a few last minute back to school supplies. I'm not really a coupon shopper, primarily because I always forget the coupons I do cut out at home, but today is different. Today I have a coupon for 1.00 off 2 boxes of Pop Tarts Mini Crisps. I must take a time out here to tell you that even if you don't like Pop Tarts, you really should try the Mini Crisps.  They come in 100 calorie packs and they're a great little mid day snack.  Plus, the kids love them. Anyway, as I approach the checkout counter and greet the lady working it, she asks me if I have any 'price matching.' I tell her, "No, but I do have this 1.00 off coupon (hand her the coupon) that I'm excited to use." We proceed to exchange a short dialogue about forgetting coupons. I can tell that she's tired, probably at the end of her shift. As I continue loading my stuff on the checkout conveyer, a man with no merchandise in his hands comes up in line behind me. I assume he is there to buy cigarettes, and my assumption is correct.  If the checker wasn't already midway through ringing my order up, I would have let him go in front of me. I know how much it sucks to be in line for one or two items when the person in front of you has a cart full. Letting him cut me is not an option, so instead I offer some peace via a friendly greeting. I say, "Oh man, you picked the wrong line. I'm Sorry." He says nothing in return and gives neither a smile nor a nod.

The lady in blue finishes ringing me up and I pay for my order.  As soon as I do she says, "Oh shoot! I forgot to use your coupon.  Hang on, let me get you a dollar.  Unless you want to just use it for next time?" I tell her it is my preference to use it now and she proceeds to call for a manager. I forgive her mistake and I stand there waiting patiently as she calls for backup. Being the considerate human that I am, I ask her if she can ring the cigarette man up while we wait.  She says she can't, unless he has cash, which he doesn't.   Now comes the fun part. As we wait for the front end manager to come rescue us, the following dialogue transpires:

GUY: All this is over a dollar? I'll pay the dollar.

ME:  I'll take your dollar.  You got cash?

GUY: No.

ME: You don't have to be a jerk about it.

GUY: I'm not being a jerk.

ME:  Yeah. [nods] You are.

GUY: [long pause] (angrily) Well, you don't have to tell me how I'm being.

ME: (calmly) That's fine.

GUY: (angrily) Yeah it is fine!

ME: (calmly) You're right. It is.

The point of this story could be simple...don't be an a-hole.  This is certainly an appropriate point.  Treat people kindly and leave room for patience in response to small mistakes. After thinking about it some more though, this situation becomes amusing to me.  I ask myself, "Why would this man travel all the way to a 184,000 square foot retail store to buy a single pack of cigarettes when he probably passed about 3 gas stations on the way here?" The answer is, "Because the cigarettes, like most things are cheaper here." So now he stands there resenting me for wanting to do the exact something thing he wants to do - save a little money. Oh sweet irony...

Enjoy your cigarettes pal, have fun turning your lungs as black as your soul!

..