The Walls We Build

            The restaurant is crowded; you’re sitting alone at your table, dressed up a bit, nothing too fancy.  People are coming and going, there’s a group having a loud conversation, interspersed with raucous laughter.  A few tables around you are filled with couples, some are quietly talking, and others are eating in silence.  You've only been there for about five minutes, you’re early, and your date’s not late, not yet.

            You've never met the person that you’re waiting for.  You talked with them over the phone briefly, but this was set up by a friend, you've never seen your date face to face, and that makes you nervous.  What are you going to do, what are you going to talk about, you don’t know very much about them, how do you learn more about them?  What if they don’t like you?  What if you don’t like them?

            They come in, ask for your table and the hostess seats them across from you.  You introduce yourself; you make awkward small talk, mostly about the menu.  After you each order your food and maybe some drinks, you try to engage each other in conversation, you try to get comfortable. 

            As the date progresses you either get more comfortable with each other and the conversation benefits, or you don’t and the entire night is just as awkward as those first few minutes.  Maybe it’s the worst date you've ever had, or maybe this person will become the love of your life.  Either way, it depends in large part on that first conversation (and all the ones that come after it). 

            As you talk to each other, you notice things, little reactions; nervous ticks.  Maybe you notice something about them that they themselves aren't even aware of; a difference between their polite smile and a real one, how one is controlled and perfect, but when they lose that control and laugh out loud, one eye winks just slightly smaller than the other.  Whatever it is, it’s real, it’s true, and most importantly, it’s un-edited.

            When we have conversations with people, face to face, we have the opportunity to learn things from them that we would never have known had the conversation been via different means.  Perhaps you’re talking to your boss, or to a friend, maybe it’s a stranger; no matter who it is, you’re learning more about them, more about their mood, their opinions, and their personality the longer you talk to them. 

            The same thing can happen (to a lesser extent) when you’re talking to someone on the phone.  You can hear little cues in the person’s voice; are they happy, are they mad, or maybe they’re bored or busy?  These unspoken signs are what truly let us learn and get to know a person.  They’re important.

            But there’s a problem.  We’re forgetting these signs; we’re not taking our opportunities to notice them and to learn about the people around us.  Instead we resort to other forms of communication.  Rather than calling up an acquaintance and asking for a date, we send them a text or a Facebook message.  When we need directions, we look at our smartphones instead of asking the person next to us.  We go to dinner with friends, and instead of just enjoying a conversation with the people close to us, we each Instagram and Tweet pictures of what we’re doing.

            We’re told that this social media lifestyle is opening us up to a whole new world of opportunity and an entirely new level of personal connection.  But it’s not true.  We may have hundreds more “friends”, but not a single one who truly knows us.  We’re more informed than we've ever been before, but we don’t have the information that matters.

            Some people will tell you that the technology is addicting, others will say that social media is simply the way of the future and that opinions like this are outdated.  Occasionally someone will make an argument stating that the advent of these new technologies is strengthening our connection to those around us and helping bond us to the human race as a whole.  Whatever the reason, the use of text messaging and social media is quickly becoming more and more prevalent. 

            Personally I believe that it’s not the technology that is addicting, and it’s not the minimal connection with a multitude of people, it’s not even the ease of using social media to schedule our lives that is addicting to us.  What we’re addicted to is the ability to edit ourselves. 

We portray our personalities over the internet, but we control it.  We clip out and hide the parts we don’t like for people to know about, we add in parts that aren't truly ours.  We think about something over and over and over before posting it, in order to make sure that it’s just right and that it conveys the persona that we want it to.

We break things up in to…

shorter and shorter…

segments.

We do it so that the persona we’re depicting is easier to manage; we can show the world that we’re deep, witty, or clever all with just a quick one liner or a meme.

We build a wall of data and tell people that the wall is us, while our true selves whimper on the other side of it and beg for someone, anyone, to peek over and acknowledge them.  We crave for someone to see the real us, and to get to know us, but to let anyone in, past that wall, is terrifying.  So instead we force edits upon ourselves and force ourselves to be who we believe we should be rather than who we are.  And we ignore our desire for self-discovery. 

We assume that the job of finding our true selves should fall to someone else, we hope and believe that someday, someone will be able to see through the wall to the parts of us that we hold most dear.  But with that mindset, we completely ignore that sometimes it’s not the discoverer’s job to find you, but rather it’s your job to be found.

When we put down our phones, our tablets, and our laptops and we look a fellow person in the eyes and talk to them, we can learn so much more about them than if we were to just stare at their wall of data.  And it’s a two way street, while we learn about them, they learn about us.  We barely even notice it’s happening, but it is, constantly; provided you can put down the phone.

A wall is just a wall, but we as people are more than our social media profiles.  We’re more than our posts, our likes, and our comments.  We’re each made up of hopes, dreams, thoughts, beliefs, kinks, quirks, opinions, and values.  Every one of us has things that we’d rather hide, and things that we’d like to add on to ourselves in order to impress others.  Ultimately, we are not able to change simply by how we portray ourselves online.  And when it comes down to it, (as hard as it may be to believe) nothing is more impressive to the right person than you exactly as you are.

So please, put down the phone, close the browser, stop reading this, and go strike up a conversation with someone that you’d like to know something more about, even if that something is just their name.  Please, stop editing yourself, let people see you as you are, flaws and all, because you as a whole person are more impressive than any wall you can ever build.

Phil's Story

                The first time I met Phil, he saved my life from an enraged housecat.  It was my first day of community service at the SPCA of Northern Nevada.  I was attempting to clean the cat’s cage, and the cat was having none of it.  I was foolishly making an attempt to pick the cat up and put it in a crate.  It gave me one of those looks that says, “If your hands move another inch toward me, I’ll take them from you...”  Phil saw what was happening and rushed over to soothe the cat and make sure that I walked away with all ten fingers still firmly attached. 

               

                I can never remember that cat’s name or really anything else about it.  But if anyone could remember the details or what it was that ever happened to the cat, it would be Phil.  You see, Phil has devoted a huge portion of his life to the care and rescue of Northern Nevada’s shelter animals.  He truly has a knack for it.  He’s been bitten and scratched more times than I can imagine, and yet he still dives in head first to the care of sick, wounded, or unwanted animals; and he does it with a smile on his face.  At some point he has devoted time to nearly every rescue group in the area, and in doing so has saved countless lives that were in far more peril than mine was when we met.

                I wasn’t the only person that he met at the SPCA.  He also met his future wife, Koelyn, there.  She was a volunteer while he was an employee; both of them were in high school at the time.  One thing led to another and four years later they got married in a beautiful ceremony at the Rose Garden in Idlewild Park.  Today they live together with a bevy of rescued animals.

                Unfortunately devoting your life to saving others doesn’t mean that you won’t have struggles of your own.  Phil is currently in Stage 5 Kidney Failure.  He is receiving Dialysis treatments three times a week and he is on the transplant list.  He was put on the transplant list in September of last year and at the time he was told that he would receive his transplant in 6 – 18 months.  That’s a large window of time, and to fill that time he’ll need to continue his Dialysis treatments. 

                Phil and Koelyn have insurance, and it’s covering large portions of his treatments and the eventual transplant.  However it isn’t covering all of it.  The hospital bills are quickly piling up and becoming too much for the two of them to handle alone. 

The lives that Phil has saved primarily belong to those of a four legged persuasion, and as such, there is very little that they can do to return the favor.  So I’m asking for those of you who have lived with and loved rescued pets for your help.  If you’ve ever rescued a pet, or even just enjoyed the company of one, perhaps you can find it in yourself to donate something on their behalf.  Phil and Koelyn have started a fundraiser at www.youcaring.com and every single cent helps.  If you can spare anything, a donation would be massively appreciated.  If you can’t spare a donation at the moment, then please just take a few seconds to share the link below with your friends and your family, spread the word. 

                Someone who has given an immeasurable amount of love and care to the world needs a bit in return.  So please, remember the love that you’ve felt for the animals in your life, and think of the love and happiness in the world that Phil made possible simply by living the life that he chose.  Spread the word, after all, isn’t someone who has devoted their life to making the world a better place the kind of person that you’d want to keep around?

Click below to donate and read more of Phil’s story…

www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/kidney-for-phil/149871/update/139045

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.