New Resolutions

At the beginning of this year I made a series of New Years Resolutions, much like I do every year.  Unlike years in the past, this time I was determined to follow through with them.  With my resolutions for 2014 I had set the bar high, but not out of reach.  However, while pursuing these changes in my life I’ve stumbled upon other things in my life that need to be taken care of first.  And so, now almost two months in to the year, my New Years Resolutions have changed.  I’ve dropped some of them entirely while others I’m simply postponing.  Meanwhile I’ve found new determination to make the changes that I need in my life. 

This brings me to my point.  Why do we tend to only make resolutions to better our lives at the beginning of the year?  Why should a solar cycle have any effect on our will to improve our lot in life?  In my experience, when I make a New Years Resolution and attempt to rigidly stick to it, I tend to fall short and give up. 

Change is, by nature, fluid.  If I wish to change myself in any way, then my first step is perhaps to break away from the idea that January first is the perfect day to decide what needs to be done.  If I wish to improve myself then I need to be open to the fluidity of change and allow my resolutions to change with me throughout my life rather than adhering to the time-honored tradition of making a New Years Resolution, failing to achieve it, then waiting until next January to make another.

So, I now have personal goals, but would I call them resolutions?  Probably not.  That word, resolution, has such a solid and final feel to it, as if you can either achieve it or not and there is no middle ground.  Let’s face it, I’ve never done well with definitive pass/fail scenarios, I like to have some wiggle room.  So while I may be dropping some of my resolutions and changing others, the fact remains that this will be a year of self-improvement for me.

On that note, since writing more and continuing this blog was one of my resolutions, this post may imply that there will be few posts in the future.  Rest assured, that’s not the case.  While the pace has slowed a bit, I’m writing more than I have in a long time and actually stock piling half-written blog posts.  So later in the year the pace will pick up drastically.  Hooray!

Perfectly Imperfect

                What does it mean to be a man anymore?  I feel like for the generations before mine, this wasn't a difficult question.  Things were so much more black and white then.  Of course, I wasn't around to witness those years firsthand, so what do I know, I could be totally wrong.  Perhaps our grandfathers and great grandfathers had the same identity crises that we do.  Nonetheless, whether they had those questions or not shouldn’t have an effect on how we, as individuals answer the question, what does it mean to be a man? 

                Is a man simply the opposite of a woman?  Someone who has big muscles, facial hair, a tribal armband tattoo, and a slight to moderate god complex; someone who never wears pink, who drives a big, lifted truck, who’s idea of a romantic date is to go see The Expendables in the theater.  Is a man someone who doesn’t know how to change a diaper or how to cook a decent meal because those are a woman’s duties?

                Or perhaps to understand what it takes to be a man we have to take a more classical approach.  Does a man work hard at his job, clawing his way up the corporate ladder in order to earn more money and provide for his family?  Does a man put in 70, 80 hour weeks at work, at a job that he may or may not enjoy, in order to make sure that his children can have the best of everything?  Perhaps the path of a man is to get a job and stick with it for 40+ years, providing more and more for his family, until he can afford to retire and spend the twilight of his life wishing he’d enjoyed his glory years more.

                Maybe though, and this is a long shot, but maybe it’s some combination of both?  To me neither of them seems appealing, but what if we mix them together, and add in just one more definition of manhood?  A man is truly nothing more than the opposite of a boy.  At some point we are all children, obviously, and girls become women, while boys become men (generally speaking).  So what’s a boy?  A boy is still growing; a boy is someone who is too young to ask such existential questions.  A boy is someone who is learning the most basic of essential life lessons while (hopefully) being protected and nurtured.

                At some point in our lives we go through a change.  It happens at a different time for each of us, and for some it happens in a bright, crisp, crimson moment.  For others it’s a gradual change occurring over years of small events and the lessons learned from them.  But at some point we become men, not boys.  However, even after that change, maintenance is required; you don’t simply become a man and then stop changing for the rest of your life.  And so, this brings us back to our original question, “What does it mean to be a man?”

                We are told and shown thousands of different times in a day what it is to be a man.  The advertising and entertainment industries would have us believe either of the first definitions that I gave.  According to most of the companies that are trying to sell us something, a man is supposed to have ruggedly good looks, just enough stubble to look like he stayed at a lady’s house the night before and hasn’t had a chance to shave.  According to them, a real man should have a 6 pack that is so defined it deserves a 0 after the six.  According to the people that control what happens in front of the cameras, whether it be in advertising or Hollywood, a man is infinitely confident.  He’s the hero of any story he may find himself in, he makes enough money to never worry about it, and he looks great whether he’s wearing jeans with no shirt or a suit.

                But their depiction of a man is missing that third ingredient.  It’s missing the last definition of a man; it’s missing that transition from boyhood to manhood.  We all go through it, perhaps as you read this, you are remembering the moment you knew, or maybe you are reflecting on your gradual transition.  Or possibly you haven’t made the transition yet, but you’re rapidly approaching it.  Either way, the producers behind the cameras would have you believe that the transition from boyhood simply happens when you decide it does.  Perhaps it’s a type of “body spray” (here’s a hint, if you use Axe body spray or anything like it, on a regular basis, chances are you’re still a boy), perhaps it’s a “real job”, or maybe it’s the truck with a bigger engine than your dad’s truck.  Whatever it is, they tell you that it’s a material change; they tell you that this one change, this one thing will make you a man worth being.

                That can’t be right though, can it?  Manhood isn’t a thing you can buy; it’s not an external addition to your life.  You don’t simply wear a scent, drink a whiskey, buy a suit, and voila!  You’re a man!  While external forces will inevitably play a role in your transition from boyhood, they aren’t the transition itself.  Manhood isn't an external thing, it’s entirely internal, and it’s not a decision either, though that may be the catalyst, instead it’s an internal realization.  It’s something that happens to you without your conscious thought.  Manhood isn't something that you can simply manifest by sheer force of will, and it’s not something that you can apply like a salve on a wound.

                Plenty of attention has been given lately to the misrepresentation of women in/by the media, but where is the outcry for the misrepresentation of men?  It’s the other side of the same coin.  Women are put under unfair pressures, and they are treated a certain way if they don’t conform, all because of the way the media portrays them.  But the whole time, the same thing is happening to the men, and it quietly continues while no one lifts a finger to stop it.  There are advertising campaigns to promote body positive images for women, and to encourage women to break the stereotypes set in place for decades.  But those same companies still promote this false image of men with more abs then they have toes or fingers, and a cocky smile no matter what situation they are in.

                And there’s the real issue, it’s the not the body image that is most damaging to the men in our society, it’s the implications of the mentality of a man.  The media implies that a man is confident all of the time, that a man never needs help from someone just to stand on his own two feet.  They’d have us believe that every man is a king of his own kingdom.  While confidence is a GREAT thing, and absolutely essential for happiness, it isn’t manufactured like the media would have us believe.  You can’t simply go to the gym, get a new deodorant, and some new clothes in order to be a confident and happy man.  You have to work for it, confidence comes from within.  I know all too well that it’s not an easy thing to find, but that it is very easy to fake, no matter how much damage it causes us to do so.

                Through this misrepresentation we forget possibly the most important part of the transition from boyhood to manhood, we forget the boy.  We lose sight of the fact that even though we are now men, somewhere inside each of us is a boy wondering what the F*$% is going on.  Just because you’ve completed the transition to a man doesn’t mean that you leave your boyhood hanging on a branch like a forgotten cocoon, rather you carry it with you every day.  The lessons you learned as a boy are just as important as the ones you learned that made you in to a man.  They shouldn’t be forgotten or tossed by the side of the road, and your boyhood can’t be covered up with this or that purchase.

                The media would have us toss aside the boy within each of us along with all the neuroses and the crippling self-doubt that came with our teenage years.  We are encouraged to shed our fear and lose our insecurity and step in to the life of the supremely confident and successful man. But if we do that, we throw away the essentials that led us to become the men we are.  You can’t wipe the slate clean at the brink of manhood and expect to be happy, no matter what the media tells you.

A man is strong emotionally, mentally, and most importantly, physically. < A man is only as strong as he allows himself to be.

A man can fix everything, all on his own. < A man knows when to ask for help.

A man takes what he wants, by any means necessary. < A man knows his limits, but can strive to expand them.

A man is the only thing keeping Society strong. < A man is an integral part, but just one of many in Society.

A man is constantly confident. < A man is constantly pursuing self-awareness.

A man doesn’t make mistakes. < A man owns his mistakes and does whatever it takes to get them fixed.

A man’s success is measured in material things. < A man’s success is measured in happiness and the lives we touch along the way.

A man leaves his silly boyhood dreams behind him. < A man accepts that the boy he once was will always be a part of him.

A man is fearless. < A man acknowledges his fears and learns to face them.

               

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m terrible at meeting some of the standards that I’ve set above, but perhaps that is what it ultimately means to be a man, and the same goes for being a woman.  Perhaps to be a properly functioning adult all we really need is to accept our flaws and to constantly strive to fix the ones that need fixing, and to live with the ones that don’t.  After all, perfection is nothing but a mirage.  But maybe, as long as we strive and are in pursuit of our own perfection, we can hope to be perfectly imperfect.

PB. (Post Blog) if this topic is something that you want to read more about, I highly encourage you to explore these other blogs and sites for other view points on the topic.  I don't personally condone every single view on either site, but the vast majority of them are refreshing and enlightening, and certainly entertaining.

The Art of Manliness: http://www.artofmanliness.com/

The Good Men Project: http://goodmenproject.com/

Enjoy!

An Unusual Love Affair

                A place is just a place; it’s nothing more than a geographical location, a spot on the map where latitude meets longitude.  At least that’s what we tell ourselves when it suits us.  But we still have connections to the places in our lives, some of us more so than others.  Whether it is a feeling of affection for our childhood home, the spot where we had our first kiss, our schools, or a favorite park bench to sit on while we feed the ducks, we care for it.  Whatever the place or the reason, we develop personal connections to the places in our lives. 

               

I've lived my entire life in the city of Reno.  Sure, I've traveled, I've been to Alaska a number of times, and obviously to California more times than I can count.  I've been to Canada, Mexico, Belize, and a hefty number of the states.  After every trip, I've come home to Reno.  I've considered moving to another place, expanding my horizons.  But there’s this funny thing about my horizons, I’m never happy with them unless they are outlined by the mountain ranges of the Sierra Nevada. 

               

Perhaps it’s Stockholm syndrome at this point, but I love Reno.  It’s the best place I've ever been.  I know I speak highly of Alaska, and some day, when I’m rich, I intend to have a summer home somewhere near Prince William Sound.  But I can’t see myself ever leaving Reno for good.  This is my home, and it always will be.  The mountains surrounding our little valley are like a fingerprint, nowhere else will ever look the same or compare to the Biggest Little City for me. 

               

Some of you may be asking yourselves why it is that I’m so attached to this town.  What is it, specifically, about Reno that has me anchored here so firmly?  Is it the city, maybe the insanely high ratio of bar to customer?  The fact that there is no set closing time of those bars?  Maybe it’s something else.  I would say the Truckee River plays a part in it (and it does) but those of you from places with real rivers would just laugh.  Perhaps it’s the burgeoning culture of the town; unique enough to be artsy and creative, yet traditional at the same time, thus catering to all ages and demographics.

               

Maybe it’s the hiking trails, the little secret spots out of sight in the hills and mountains around us.  Some of them have waterfalls, others have hidden lakes, and on Peavine there’s a small, concealed valley that’s heavily forested compared to the rest of the mountain.  Above it is a wide, open, plateau that (at the right time of year) is covered by wildflowers of the most vibrant colors you’ll ever see.  Off to the left, over- looking the small, hidden valley, and around a bend from the field of flowers, there’s a narrow ridge only wide enough for one person to comfortably walk.  On the end of the ridge is a small, old, gnarled pine tree; growing out of the rocks.  It’s the perfect size and shape to sit under and admire the view while being totally alone. 

               

Or is it the sun?  At this time of year, the sun is rising as I’m getting ready for work, and it’s setting as I’m driving home.  In all the places that I've been, and all the beautiful sights that I've witnessed, few have been able to compare to the blush of Reno’s sky twice a day.  I've seen the sunset (or sunrise) stretch across the entire sky at times, setting fire to every inch of atmosphere above the valley.  People take pictures of the sunset over the ocean, or between sky scrapers, and other people find those pictures striking and wondrous, but it’s just not right for me unless I can see the silhouette of Peavine, or the outline of the Lady of Mt. Rose framed in red, pink, purple, and orange. 

               

Then again, while Reno may be nothing more than a spot on the map, a home is something more.  A home is the place that you share with the people you love.  I may not have a large family and certainly not all of them live in Reno anymore.  But my parents are still here, and (as a recent medical scare showed me) they mean the world to me.  Then of course we take in to account my other family.  My friends have become so much more than just friends to me.  I spend more time with them than not, and I've built closer connections over the years with these people than many will ever experience in their lives.  Both of my families have, quite literally, saved my life on more than one occasion. 

               

So ultimately, what is it about this city, this pinpoint on the proverbial map, this place, my home?  What is it that has me locked in place, with no intentions of leaving?  Is it the bars, the culture, my families, the ground, the water, the air? 

It’s love. 

I love everything about it, from the dirtiest, grimiest gutter to the blindingly clean mountain peaks after a winter storm.  I love the creek that we call a river, with the broken dam at Ambrose Park.  I love the fact that when one bar closes at 2:00am, I can walk to the one next door, and that bar will still be open.  I love the way the sky smolders like the apocalypse is moments away, twice a day.  I love the hidden, natural treasures that can be found by simply picking a direction and walking.  And I love the memories that I've made, but not as much as the memories that I know still can be.

I owe my life and my love to this city, and I won’t leave it until I've paid that debt, and if I have my way, that’s a goal that will never be reached.

The Stresses of Complacency

Lately, my head hurts.  I've been so stressed out the past year or so, it’s been wearing on me.  Yet I don’t do anything about it.  I've become complacent with my annoyances, just floating from day to day, “dealing with it”.  But through every bit of dealing with it, I’m not actually solving any of the problems that are slowly driving me insane. 

It ultimately doesn't matter which of my annoyances I’m talking about:  I’m unhappy at work; I have a non-existent love life; I can’t seem to lose more than five pounds without immediately gaining it again; my creativity has been misplaced in some dusty old box in the attic of my mind; Aaron Rodgers is still not playing; I don’t make enough money to have a single dime left to my name by the end of the year. 

As Todd Snider once wrote:

“Tension, tension, tension is all that I know
I got tension out in traffic, I got tension in my office
I got tension and it's everywhere that I go.

…

Tension, tension, tension is all that I know
I got tension in my health food, tension in my exercise
Tension and it's everywhere that I go.

…

Tension, tension, tension is all that I know
I got tension in my classroom, I got tension in my courtroom
I got tension and it's everywhere that I go.

…”

Most of these things, I know that I have the ability to change (hurry back Aaron!) but I can’t seem to find the motivation.  I tell people that I’m dealing with it, but I’m not.  I clearly want something to change, but the thought of actually going through with it terrifies me.  I've been single so long that I’m scared shitless of starting to date again and I've been at the same job for so many years that the thought of starting a new one has my ass cemented to the chair in my cubicle.  Losing weight doesn't scare me, but getting home after a long day and doing absolutely nothing is one of my last, stress-free, safe havens. 

I know in my last blog I mentioned that it was time for a change, and it is (so far so good on cutting back on alcohol!).  But as I've slowly been realizing throughout the years, acting upon a desire to change is much more difficult than just having the desire.  Still, somewhere, somehow, and sometime soon, I need to force myself to make a change. 

I keep telling myself that I’m waiting for the new year before trying anything new, but I’m not sure why.  Why should I wait, what’s so special about 12:01 am January 1^st as opposed to 11:59 pm December 31^st?  It’s just an excuse for procrastination, and not a good one at that. 

Procrastination is something that I've struggled with for so long that it was practically a dirty word in my house, growing up.  Nonetheless, as my parents learned (much to their frustration) when trying to teach me not to procrastinate, I have a tendency to put off doing something until the last possible second.  I would wait so long to do something that my parents would give up hope that I would ever change.  Then one day I would get up and take action, mercilessly and without hesitation. 

I've always had the desire and the know-how to make things better, and I believe I've always had the motivation too; it’s just that there’s so much of it that it moves slowly.  It’s like a glacier, it may take forever to get to where it’s going, but when it does nothing’s going to stop it.  For now though, the motivation to change just hasn't shown up.  Will I find the guts to do something this year, or will I have to wait another 14 days or longer?  I suppose only time, and my own impulses, will tell.  

Starts and Stops

            Hi everyone, I’ve been away from here for a long while.  And I certainly am not going to pretend that I can promise you that I’ll be making any kind of a legitimate return to blogging.  However, I still enjoy doing this from time to time, so here’s my newest entry…

            I’ve had a rather introspective couple of days recently, realizing that I used to a very open person, never afraid to share my thoughts or emotions, and somewhere along the line, that aspect of my personality has pulled a 180.  I’m now a rather closed off person, I don’t show my emotions or share my past or anything else of the sort nearly as often as I used to (except with a very select few).  The one place that this isn’t true is in my writing.  Whether it’s writing for this blog, jotting down notes on a random piece of notebook paper in my room, or some of my stories that I write and then don’t share, writing is the only way that I open up.

            That being said, I haven’t been writing recently.  I haven’t written a full story in years, I haven’t done a blog entry in months, and the last time I sat down to write something in a notebook I ended up making a pre-draft ranking of Fantasy Football players.  I think it’s time to change this trend.

            I love to write, it’s my passion, and it’s quite literally my only legitimate means of self-expression.  Something has been stopping me from writing.  Whether it was just that I was miserable at work, or that I have been too absorbed in football, or something else, I don’t know exactly.  However, Macklemore says that alcohol (and other substances) killed his creativity, that he lost all motivation and simply stopped chasing his dreams.  I don’t want to do that, so if giving up those things helped him, I’ll give it a shot for a while and see if it helps me too. 

            Don’t panic, I’m not going to give up partying completely, not yet.  But I am going to cut back some.  I know there are plans for New Year’s and some plans around Christmas time, and I’ll partake in those.  But in between those times and afterward, I’m going to see what it’s like to not do that for a while.  I’m hoping that it will allow me to write more and regain my creativity.  It also will come with the added bonus of weight loss, I hope.