There is so much more to it than this, there always is. The past makes the present, and the present makes the future. Therefore, the past makes the future. Two songs for me help clarify this thought. Background by Third Eye Blind and Wisconsin, the hidden track by Bon Iver. “Every place I go I take another place with me”, but I also take people, a much more important factor in my life. People can turn a point on the map and a place in time into a memory. As I wake up on crisp spring mornings it feels like a morning on the coast at summer camp. Lightning and thunder make a place feel like Missouri. But again, the places are only a part. Each time I go to the zoo I think about my sister; every time I get in an argument, I think of Vladi; and every time I drink a beer I am drinking one with Travis. It is all so deeply intertwined in my mind I think about these people even when I don’t think that I am. They have changed who I am, and are shaping who I am becoming. And I am thankful and prayerful for them, and for you who read this. Because you either have been a part of my character or been a part of somebody else’s. Carry me with you, take me where you wish to go, and travel safely.
You came, you stayed, and you left. I came, I stayed, and I was left alone sorting through my thoughts. I sat on the very peak of the roof watching the last sunset of the year. I was a long way from the sunsets of the summer, but getting closer every day. As I closed down the daylight hours of the last day of the year I closed up shop of one of the biggest years of my life. I climbed and I fell, I grew and was cut down, I was loved and I was hated. I learned and I forgot, conquered and was conquered, I gained and I lost. And although I moved around in who I was and who I was becoming, my movement seemed somehow to be on a fixed plane, up and down. I remained in the same place while everything around me was changing. I met with some friends late that night, made some chatter and had some laughs, watched the ball drop then went off to bed. I woke to a new day and welcomed it with a smile as I watched the sun rise over the foothills. And on that day I flew and I crashed, I changed and changed back, I misunderstood what I had understood, and I moved forward while everything around me was fixed in its place. I went to sleep again, and I awoke, again. Even though everything was the same, it was now new again. You came, you stayed, and you left. I came, I stayed, and I left behind everything that was, and discovered everything that is.
This last month has been a unique one, with ups and downs, left turns and right turns, and a lot of long, straight stretches in between all of those. The journey has been hard to come by, with lots of fog, rain, and only a little bit of sunshine. But there is hope. In light of Christmas-time I would like to focus on the gift of God to us. I understand not all of you believe in this, but maybe I can resonate with you somewhere in here. The idea behind Christmas is that a gift was given, the ultimate gift, and an example was set by which we should live. Yet we are always wanting more. Want disguised as need, desires disguised as necessity. But I encourage you, to get rid of your wants, and search for your true desires. This last month seperates the space between Thanksgiving, and Christmas. And if there is anything this last month has taught me, it is that I can be thankful for everything that I have, with little need of much more. I tried to be selfish, and succeeded in doing so. But I found that this only makes me worse off. Full of holiday treats and self-loathing, I am run down and tired. I am not sure what all can be said in these sentences that hasn’t already been stated, and I am even less sure about whether or not my words can mean much of anything to you. But, I hope they mean everything. I hope that they can be the gift you need, to sustain and encourage you to give a little more. Try giving this Christmas, and if you are already doing that, try giving a gift that actually means something: Love
What am I supposed to do with all of these memories inside my brain? They have become out of my control. They have haunted me for a long time now, and will continue to do so until I figure out how to deal with them. They come to me when I least expect them. They taunt me with their feelings of nostalgia and sentiments of emotions. I am caught dead in my tracks, paralyzed like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. I quickly lose focus of where I am or what I am doing. I make my best attempt to move forward, but I can’t. Each memory leads to another, then another, then another. I find myself in bitter contempt of my present circumstances. I have found those thoughts, visions, and feelings again, but lost my hold on reality. What good are you to me anymore? You no longer exist outside of my mind except for the occasional lackluster story. I want to rid myself of these demons, to clean out the old files of my brain and make room for new information, but every time I open that cabinet I take a few files out, shuffle through the information, put them back in their place, then close the drawer again. No forward motion, only backward thinking. Then I realize life has passed by me, and no new memories have been made. It is about time I stop thinking on past relics and begin relishing in the present. Those past times were once the present, and opportunities present themselves each day. So old memories: Until I figure out what to do with you I will put you in the attic and the back room, where you may be left for awhile until I find the time to sort you out. Farewell for now.
Climb up to the rooftop with me, let’s see what we can find there. There we will find one of the greatest views there is to be seen, but there is always so much more. Amidst the sunshine and the trees and the hills we will find each other. I search your eyes and I can see for miles. I climb to the rooftop of your mind. I look out onto the horizon and the view is endless. I can see everything from here. So high up it has become fragile, so I am careful. These views aren’t just for anyone to see, so instead of taking pictures I put them to memory. I look one direction and I see your past, another direction shows me who you are now. I turn to see the sunrise and I glimpse your future, my favorite view of them all. I lose track of time as I take in all the views. Each direction I turn I see old memories, new hopes, and distant dreams, carving out the landscape like mountains and valleys, with rivers and trees. Then I turn and see you. We talk some more then head on down. I take one last glimpse and smile, because the sun is still rising and the view is only getting better.
I tried to be as transparent as possible, but it didn’t always work out. What you see is what you get, but they didn’t always see that. They would look right through me at something or somebody else, and suddenly that is who I would become. I tried to stand next to good people, but it never worked how I wanted. Sometimes they would catch their own reflection, and think I was just like them, but they couldn’t see me; they couldn’t see I was so much different. People started to write and draw on me, and I became what they created. I would cast shadows and shapes that weren’t me, but what I was becoming. It became apparent that transparency wasn’t what they were seeking, it wasn’t who I was. What I needed to be was something they could see, something they could touch, something that was like something else, but unlike those other things. And as this came to me I realized I am not what they make me to be, but what He has me to be, and there is no other way it could be.
I bought us those tickets, though we never went to the concert. I thought it would be a good time, though I could tell you disagreed. I pretended to lose them, so that you didn’t feel like you had to let me down. You were in town again, and every time you were I tried to make it special; like I was some sort of a performing artist trying to entertain you. I soon figured out that wasn’t what you wanted, and each time I tried less and less, you began to enjoy it more and more. We went to get coffee then sat to talk; went to get ice cream and talked even more. Another fill of coffee to warm back up, then a quiet walk down the eastern avenues. Times were changing and we both knew it because we both talked about it. But, we never said a word as to what we were going to do about it. The leaves crashed beneath our feet, and the chilly air started to settle into our skin. We picked up our pace, and your talking took on an excitable tone. You told me about your next new project, and I quickly became lost in your thoughts. Not even the clouds could hold this in. A few more weeks and the snow would come, but not to your town. I bought you a ticket home, though I wish I had lost this one. And I knew you did too. We stood in the airport wondering what would come next. We kept up conversation until the last minute possible, then at last said good bye, for now. I sat at the end of the runway and watched until your plane took off. As it disappeared I got in the car and drove away, a smile appeared across my face.
I used to day dream a lot. Well, a lot more than I do these days. I used to make up fantasies in my head. Creative things. Mostly just short stories full of fun and excitement. I used to dream I was caught in a jungle, and I had to fight my way out. I would pretend I was an Indian chasing down a wild animal or a prisoner on the run from anyone and everyone. I would cover my eyes and be taken to some place new and different. Someplace where there was always an adventure or a challenge. On my adventures my life was exciting, the more danger the better. The harder they got and the more I had to fight the better. If it was easy, forget it. My real life was easy enough. Carefree and fun, but almost boring. Now I am grown up, and life seems to be the opposite. My life is challenging and hard, but it has lost its sense of adventure. The promise of difficulty is not as intriguing as it was in my older travels. Now in my spare time I find myself dreaming of tranquility and calm, always wanting that which I do not have. Rarely accepting the circumstances of my current situation. I wake up to an alarm, alarmed that what I had seen was not actually real. I pull the covers back over my head, hoping to drift back to dreaming. There is still excitement there, though I guess it has taken a different form. Still that sense of adventure, but it doesn’t look the same anymore. My dreams are changing, and so am I. My mind is no longer the same. I am losing my dreams from the past, I hope this doesn’t mean I am losing my mind.
It is bedtime; well for me, not for the boy across the street playing basketball. In a somewhat ironic fashion, I have redeveloped a bedtime while he no longer has one. Summer is no longer a time for vacation, but rather a changing season ful of hot weather and longer days. Like my bedtime, I have gained many more things like independence, money, and responsibility. In some ways though I have lost my freedom, my security from others, and my childhood. A few major moments have decided the fate of my childhoods existence. Each also in the summer, each in subsequent years. The first came a few summers back when I was forced to leave my running life behind. No longer able to hide behind athletic accomplishments, or rejoice in sweat produced and toil shared together. I was forced into a disconnect, to go searching for a new me that lies somewhere beyond this place. I lost view of him there. Then the next summer, I found him again. Him and I adventured to new places discovered things we never thought we would see. We saw fireflies and lightning, new love and forgotten peoples. And he stayed somewhere out there, and I moved. Out on my own, I again was forced into a disconnect, finding that new me that lies somewhere beond that old place, maybe in this new one. The more new things I found, the more I forgot about the old. As summer moved into fall, then to winter, I fogot about him; I forgot about that boy left out in the cold, getting lost all over again. As spring came and new relationships blossomed, he showed up at my door again. New hopes, new dreams, new this or that, it looked like he may be back for good, that my childhood may not have to leave. Then, as I stood in the street we talked. Under the light of the street lamp you told me our friendship couldn’t work like that any longer. In the despair of thoughts I watched him run. I lost him in the dark beyond the illumination. The purity. The joy. The eager responses, the simple delights. They were gone too. for those are where he made his real home, that is where he felt most comfortable. I was forced once more to disconnect. Disconnect from my own thoughts and now I am searching in what lies beyond my mind, into what lies in the mind of society and cultural confines. I know he is still out there because I see him from time to time. I see him out in that open field, or riding in the back seat with his face pressed up against the window. He beckons me, though not vocally, not to forget about him, not to lose him for good. The only thing I am not sure of if I brought him home, is where he would stay.
