A Mensroom Plea (together we CAN improve our aim)

I happen to work for a prestigious Investment Bank here in Manhattan. Were one to casually stroll through my office one would find countless flat panel LCDs tuned to various news stations and desks adorned with double flat panel monitors and the best in high tech gadgets. One would find men and women dressed to thoroughly impress and people waxing poetic on the greatest in management philosophy, technological innovation, and the world economy.

Now, take a walk with me if you will…to the men’s room (women you can come to).

As you stroll past the door you glance into the mirror on your left, checking yourself out. You want to make sure you look just as good at 2pm as you did when you arrived at noon…I mean….9am.

You procede through yet another door, headed to the urinals…and as you approach them your eyes behold the most vile and putrid set of urinals into which any man has ever relieved himself.

This my friends, is the bathroom which I am forced to visit at least once daily. Each time I go I pause for a second or two. Sometimes I pray, “dear Lord…please don’t let me slip and fall in the stream of urine that surrounds me”. Other times I just close my eyes and give it a go hoping that if I can’t see it then perhaps it really isn’t that bad. I am convinced that these urinals exist solely for decorative purposes, because they certainly aren’t being used! I mean, why pee into the porcelain pot when you can pee all around it?

I won’t describe the day my ID card fell into it all. It’s still too soon as it only happened a few short weeks ago. However, I think I cried as I stared at it lying there on the floor…somewhat yellow.

Anyway, I say all of this to say….Dear Employer…you make lots and lots of money every year. If we cannot make urinal etiquette a mandatory part of new hire training, or provide all male employees with a “how to” video of sorts, then perhaps we should consider at least hiring someone to CLEAN THE DAMN BATHROOM!!!

BI-SE I MO SHUIL

Bi-se i mo shuil
a Ri mhor na nduil
Lion thusa mo bheatha
mo cheadfai’s mo stuaim
Bi thusa i m’aigne
gach oiche’s gach la
Im chodladh no im dhuiseacht
lion me le do gra
Bi thusa mo threoru
i mbriathar is i mbeart
Fan thusa go deo liom is
coinnigh me ceart
Glac curam mar athair
is eist le mo ghui
Is tabhair domsa ait conai
istigh i do chroi

Translation
Be my eyes, O king of creation
Fill my life with understanding
And patience
Will You be my mind every night
And every day
Sleeping or awake
Fill me with Your love
Will You be my guidance
In my words and actions
Stay with me forever
And keep me on the right path
As my Father take care of me
And listen to my prayers
And give me a place
To live inside Your heart

The Dreadfullest Dread of all Dreadfulnesses

There is no more terrifying moment…no more horrendous occurrence…no more bloodcurdling event…than that moment in which your ipod battery runs out while in a packed subway car!

The anxiety that forms as the pulsating sound of your favorite remix slowly fades into the distance, being quickly replaced by the obnoxious grunts, sighs, outbursts, and fruitless conversations of the 75 plus passengers that tightly surround you can bring one to the very brink of insanity. I equate this mind altering experience to the experiences relived in such movies as “Open Water”, “Lord of the Flies”, or “Cast Away”. Suddenly I am left floating in an ocean of cold metal, glass, and ceramic tile…attacked on every side by screaming children, pushy passengers, obnoxious teens, and people from New Jersey.

Truthfully…I know not how I survived!

I glance over at the ipod-less woman beside me intensely focused on her best selling novel and I wonder… "HOW?!” She seems either totally unaware of her surroundings or completely content in this world of westernized sound. I glare at her curiously…somehow hoping that our eyes will meet and I’d glean from her some bit of insight, of erudition. But, I garner nothing. As the train slows and the doors open..i watch her as she slowly rises, closing her book, and pushes her way through the crowd (including the two men from Queens who have been discussing weight lifting etiquette for the past 20 minutes) and she is gone.

Approximately 15 minutes later I arrive at my destination. As I move through the car doors and onto the platform I breathe a sigh of great relief. *Actually, I practically dry humped a platform column*

Just another spectacular day in New York City!!

I'll Find You....I'll Hide Me

The title of this entry comes from the chorus of a song by a group I’ve recently come to love called “Loquat”. They have an amazing AMAZING sound! But, that’s beside the point.
They have a song called “Serial Mess” which, from what I understand, is actually about a dream in which a girl is being chased by a serial killer. I know…rather morbid concept, eh?? But regardless, aside from loving the music there’s a part in the chorus of this song that seems particularly poignant at this time in my life.

“It’s a game of hide and seek. I’ll find you…I’ll hide me…."

As I listen to the chorus, and then play it over again and again in my head, the concept of “I’ll find you…I’ll hide me” is an irresistible one.

As I listen, I realize that ultimately…this is what my life is about! It’s not about what I want or what I think I deserve. Nor is it about who I think I am. Through experience I’ve learned that often times what I want is actually not what I need and who I think I am is more often who I want to be. However, as I seek Him…finding Him…I discover that my true needs are met, and that life, while not without its difficulties, is rich! And in the process I realize that I am truly “me”, in Him.

So, as all else falls away I realize that there is life hiding in Him…and in being continuously found by the One who has and who always will, see me….

Struggling to Find the Balance

These days I find myself struggling to find the balance between who I was and who I am. I’m not quite sure where one ends and the other begins. What’s authentic...what’s fabricated...what’s lasting. I’m not sure where the person I knew has gone, or if he even still exists?

All this talk of helping people, teaching, moving abroad, career changes..It’s all quite noble. It’s all very fascinating.

But is it me?

To date, I’ve been the guy you would catch chilling out in Union Square on a sunny day, or perusing through French Connection with a latté in one hand and my cell phone in the other. I’ve been the guy who loved New York City nights and the very idea of letting loose till 4am with 15 of my closest friends. I've been the guy with high hopes for an astounding corporate career and persistent dreams of an $800,000 one bedroom 750 square foot condo in the city (and a doorman if I could swing it).

To date, I have not been the guy who would visit a developing nation, let alone move to one. I have not been the guy who would sacrifice money and the material things I love for such an endeavor, no matter how noble the cause. To date, I never let my heart overstep the boundaries that my head had drawn…I made that mistake early on.

Thus far I have been bold, confident, strong, courageous, independent, and admirable.

Today, I feel weak, alone, uncertain, afraid, insignificant, and downright confused.

Who in the world am I!?

Change is good…it truly is. But sometimes too much change is just…too much!

-G'Night

Life in the South Pacific

This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately as I finish the application process to teach abroad. It is quite interesting thinking about spending at least a year in a region of the world that, truthfully, I never even considered going to. Yet here I am, beside myself at the prospect of being able to use the gifts God has given me to help others.

Interesting thing about moving abroad to "help others", is that I am thoroughly convinced that the people who are truly helped in such situations are the people who are going abroad, as opposed to the locals they will be interacting with. It is quite interesting the number of people who refer to what I will hopefully embark upon as "sacrificing" or "giving of myself for the good of others", as if the people I’m going to work, live, and commune with will not be "whole" until my glorious arrival. Now of course there is a certain degree of sacrifice involved with this process. That’s a given. I sacrifice my broadband internet which I love oh so dearly. I sacrifice the foods and the amenities I thought I could not live without. I sacrifice sleeping on a mattress in a beautiful apartment. I sacrifice all manner of efficient pest control. I sacrifice a very decent salary with a prestigious organization. I sacrifice the ability to see my family and friends for quite some time. I sacrifice many other things that I have yet to realize...some of which I probably will not realize until I leave.

However, what I am receiving in return is so much greater. Frankly, I imagine (and have been told) that through this experience I will find that of all these "sacrifices" will seem rather trivial in comparison to the extraordinary benefit of living and teaching in a developing nation. To live in place and with a people that do not value material things the way I am used to, that do not know the concept of racism, that value family and friendship over work and material wealth...that's quite the contrast from the world I’ve lived in for the past few years….quite a refreshing change! Living on one of the world’s most beautiful islands isn’t too shabby either!

All that being said, what I stand to do is not for everyone…not by any stretch of the imagination!!! I am not one of those people who believes that everyone should go volunteer abroad or something of the sort at least once in their lives...although I do see the benefits. Everyone brings to the table a different set of God given gifts, interests, and goals for themselves. Goodness...you could not have convinced me that I would ever consider doing what I’m doing six months ago. Yet here I am, not just considering it, but in love with the very idea of it all.

How things change! How we change!

Halloween 2006

So this weekend my roomates and I had a Halloween party that proved to be quite enteraining for a variety of reasons. As we typically do, we turned our apartment into a themed nightclub of sorts inclusive of blacklights, house music, a bar and much more. I've decided to post my top six observations from that party here...partially because i'm so bored at work right now that I could cry...and partially because, well...i'm so bored at work right now I could cry!

1. I should dress as an apache more often...i look good in a headdress!

2. Large Indian headdresses and heavy winds don't mix well, particularly when attempting to cross the street quickly to avoid oncoming traffic.

3. When a pregnant Jamaican woman who's husband just drug her an hour and a half away from their home in Far Rockaway (in the rain) comes to the bar and asks you for some cranberry juice...you damn well better have some cranberry juice.

4. New Guinea penis sheaths are so much fun!!!! (long story)

5. Small neon fish that glow under blacklights = very cool

6. Putting small neon fish that glow under blacklights in a margarita glass and leaving it at the bar with all the other drinks = not cool...not cool AT ALL!

Oh, To Breathe Again...

So yesterday was kind of a piss poor day! It felt like everything that had been hovering around in my head and my heart just suddenly congealed and started oozing out of my eyeballs (sorry, that was the only metaphor I had). I was upset. I was irritated. I was very "emotional". *I’m ditching the term "emo" because I’ve realized that it's just one more word we use to pigeonhole men into some culturally defined idea of masculinity...i.e. men characteristically aren't supposed to be "emotional" so lets cut the word in half and use it as slang whenever a guy does anything outside the normal stereotypical activities of a male*. Anyway, today I feel much better.

Now granted, all of the same issues that existed yesterday exist today. Nothing in my life has miraculously changed. However, I was fortunate enough to be able to vent about certain frustrations in an email to a friend. No doubt that my friend now thinks I’m clinically insane and way too "emo" as he would put it...but still, putting down some of my most important thoughts in an email for someone else to read felt really good. So today, I feel invigorated. I feel the blood rushing through my veins. Suddenly life in the city is that much more exciting as are the things that lie ahead of me. My heart, which had felt stifled these past few weeks, suddenly feels free to do it's own thing...to live in the here and the now. I feel like myself again, with any emotional or mental changes that have taken place in recent months adding to the foundation of who I already was.

It's a wonderful feeling!!

Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point

A good friend shot me this quote in an email that I read today. It's from Pascal. Its highly philosophical and therefore very thought provoking. Its quite deep, and I don't like it!!

See, I seek to apply such statements as medicine to an illness...although perhaps therein lies the problem. I expect to read something like this and to see what wounds, what scars, what ailments it is applicable to. In a way, I look to strong philosophical statements for wisdom from which I can derive answers. However, in reading this i'm left with more questions than I am answers.

Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.- Translation: The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of

WHAT?! Thanks Pascal!! I could have told you that one!

If anything, this reminds me of just how many reasons my heart has which my reasoning knows nothing of! And that, my friends, is the complexity of emotion. We can control our thoughts and our actions, but feelings are often all together different animals. I myself have often said "emotions suck". I say it humorously and it usually gets a laugh from both myself and the hearer...but I often wonder if people realize how much I mean what i'm saying. I don't say it in jest, nor do I say it to be morose. I say it because it's how I truly feel.

The pain of wanting something for yourself, that no matter how noble, you can never have. The sorrow in watching someone you love struggle to survive and loose that battle. The hurt and anger in being taken advantage of and the questions that ensue as to what YOU could have done differently. The ache of caring for someone deeply who does not feel quite the same, and moreover, who you cannot see, hear, or touch. The awkwardness of caring what others think in spite of all attempts not to. The hurt of being rejected because of who you are and what you believe. Gosh..i could go on and on.

This is no picnic Pascal! But somehow I feel that you knew that, and perhaps it is from that knowledge that your statement was spawned. I will ponder over this a little more...

I am grateful to my friend for sharing this though. After all, the heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of...

Thoughts on a subway car

If you know me then you know that my commute home on the train, while most often frustrating, can also provide me with a time of reflection, contemplation, and resolution. In those moments, as I listen to the music in my ipod...closed off to a world that would otherwise force its way in…I pray, I ponder, I laugh, I cry (inside at least), and I dream. The sounds and the smells of the underground become sweet music and pungent incense…ushering me into yet another world of deep thought and introspection.

Today, I stand tall in the center isle, quite proud of my gray Calvin Klein scarf wrapped loosely around my neck and decorating the ever popular green Armani blazer, clinging tightly to the bar in front of me. Wedged between at least 10 people, I think about the fact that were I to loose my grip..which at the time was quite possible..I would not fall. Sure, the startle of loosing my grip would be, well…startling. But yet, pinned between those bodies I am secure in knowing that those firm walls of flesh would not fail me, they would not/could not, let me fall. And in those few moments I am amazed at the striking similarities between my physical circumstance in that subway car, and the spiritual circumstances that exist in my world today.

Today, I stand in a world where I cling tightly to those things I thought I knew. The things I thought I wanted, the life I thought I desired and God desired of me, and the friends and the family that I would have changed myself to maintain. I hold onto them tightly, all the while knowing that my grip grows weaker and weaker with each passing day. I cry out to God, a plea to understand how this can be when I know He is with me, as though these things are out of His control and not part of my process. And in my heart I hear him say…

..“when all else falls away…hold onto me…for I will not let you fall.”

And in that moment…I close my eyes…knowing that although my world is changing, my hopes and my dreams morphing into something all together different…through all of this..He is working.

I suppose that part of “becoming” is letting go of our own expectations and realizing that great change is just that…change. And while the letting go can seem risky, and be all too painful…doing so to grab hold of Him, that I might be all He desires for me to be, is worth the risk and the pain. Not sometimes, but every time.

So, I let go….