Category Archives: What Makes Life Worth Living

Moving On

OK I’m back.

I knew I would be, this blogging template is just too convenient of a medium. That or I am just so used to it that when my muse strikes, this is the the most appropriate forum for me. This is my corner of the internet, where I can post things yet still remain outside of social media. It’s very me. Now on with the show.

There is so much shaking up going on in my life. Beyond myself and my wife it seems to be happening everywhere. A groundswell of moving on is taking place and everyone seems to be the better for it. It’s time for the pendulum to swing the other way and it’s time to seize the day, take control, and realize your destiny.

It all feels like perspective to me though. I am seeing all this because I am actively living it. I see these things because I am acutely aware of change, and am just taking the time to notice it. Besides my friend Chad who is moving to Bellingham to start a brewery and a former coworker Matt opening a bar on lower Queen Anne, Heather and I are the next most rash, quitting our jobs and moving to Boise. It’s terrifying an numbing and exciting, but enough is enough. I am sick of getting passed over for opportunities and am ready to stop laying down and at least attempt to blaze a trail. It really seems ridiculous not to try, we’re way too awesome not to have our own place. No good risk is without it’s unreasonable amount of doubt though, it wouldn’t be a risk otherwise.

I haven’t laid it down here, but there’s been a quote I’ve been stewing over for years now so let’s lay it out. It’s cliche in the way that only true wisdom can be, but is from the dude who spelled out the Golden Rule two thousand years ago, so he has a little credibility. I know time muddles truth but Hillel is credited with this one.

“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me?

And when I am for myself, what am I?

And if not now, when?”

It mostly makes me just question my life and what I am doing. There are some deep existential ideas posed in those three questions. It hurts to think about them too hard. Especially the last one, but me being me I gravitate to it naturally. It’s the perfect distraction from myself. Deep, but ultimately meaningless. Ideas like this aren’t meant to be trifled with, just toyed with as idle playthings. Take ideas like these too seriously and it’s game over, man. There is not enough known to flesh out a good enough answer. Treat it like a brain teaser though, and it’s way more palatable. Such is life.

But then I can just listen to some music, and more will be expressed in 4 bars than I could ever express in a thousand words.  I’ve never written anything near as beautiful as this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2SPeEeCj3I

The title of the song translates to “gathering the wind”

More than anything, seeing the beauty of life in a place of positive energy made me happy beyond belief, mingled with sadness that it can’t be like this all the time. Skipping town while everything is going on  gives me a little different perspective, but I figure real happiness has to be lined with some sadness to really be happy. Thank you, eastern philosophy.

At some point, everyone moves on.

And if not now, when?

 

Muse

Whoa nelly, stop the presses. This is a bunch of writing in a small frame of time, especially for my present-self. It’s because I’m trying to flex those muscles again, get them pumped. I keep coming back here with massive intentions, with my muse screaming at me to get something down while the feeling of wanting to create is fresh on my mind. It really is strange to think of some muse, but it’s there. There are times I couldn’t force myself to write the smallest tid-bit of stupid, but that feeling creeps in, and everything I write out is pure gold. I come here though, so there’s little self-editing, and zero research, making it beyond easy to sit down and hammer out some non-sense.

What do you dictate of me, oh muse? Bring something out of the inky-black depths of my sub-conscious? Perhaps reflect on something of great importance I hadn’t considered until this moment? Or maybe just vomit all over the keyboard and get it out with all of the concern laid on catharsis and none on editing?

It’s weird because the pull is very real, that pull to write. I’ve been too tired and exhausted recently to do anything, but now here I am, hammering it out. There is no immediate need, no immediate idea, just a need to type something out. Tonight, this is what I will get from my muse. There’s excitement though, because I feel there is so much to type about, so much to write and put into words. I know it’s all about beer, too. That is what I am going to write about, that is what i will draw inspiration and joy out of.

I know this is what  my muse (and gumption) will start pointing towards. My work and passion are starting to come out of the woodwork and fuse together into something I can tame and master.

Or maybe not. Maybe I just need to be able to unleash them and deal with the consequences later. Really, if I could predict my muse, I’d be rich.

The Heist

I had to come here because I just had a musical moment unlike any other I’ve had in my life. Dramatic, I know.

Macklemore and Ryan Lewis just released their first full-length album to what already sounds like crazytown. #1 on Itunes? From Seattle? Did that just happen?

So I listened to the new album, and was immediately getting goosebumps and out-of-control emotional. A quarter of the songs on this guy are songs that I have seen live which adds a ludicrous amount of backstory, because I lived them and am now finally getting to hear these songs in the context of an album. Which for me, is an amazing insight into the rest of the album at the same time.

The thing is, this is one of the first times in a long long time that I have been able to be completely un-objective about a piece of art, especially a musical one. There’s just too much history and I could give less of a shit about being critical in any shape or fashion. This album is good and I really only care about one other person’s opinion in the matter and for once, I feel I have seen enough to reach a completely biased conclusion because I say so. The fact that this is small-potatoes compared to many problems in and around my life is not lost on me, it just feels good to take something subjective and create a tailor-made objective reality.

I like the  really happy one where my wife and I dance and scream like idiots in the middle of neumos, completely surrendered to the moment and having the time of our lives.

Positive Force

Editor’s note: I totally started this one months ago, and just came back with a gusto to write something. Glad I gave myself the opportunity to polish this turd, it was pretty ranty before. Now it’s been gussied up and is just mildly ranty.

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Here I sit, existing and typing. Existing in a life that I might as well think of as my choosing. Why not? All I can do is exert some action, and let it run. Newton’s second law of thermodynamics tells me that this energy is going to push something somewhere and add to entropy.

On this entropic quest, I am what I am. The more I try and break it down into something that I have control over, the less I’m in control. I stare at this paradox and swing from end to end, trying to determine something subjectively good out of it. Good for me, of course. What else would make it good?

I look around me and all I see is ego. It isn’t really that much of a surprise though, why shouldn’t there be? What else is there to do but express your preference to an indifferent universe? It only makes sense to have a preference, something you would prefer to do given the multitude of choices. So the question is, how to frame said preferences if apathy lies at the root of it all.

I impose importance to the things that I choose, and then….stupid. It doesn’t matter how much I try and self-deprecate, or self-glorify, it all smacks of stupid if I sit here and pick it apart. I guess I’m looking for something right in the middle between awareness and its implications. I’m absolutely sure I can’t put it into words, but here we go.

In the end, ego rules the day. It’s the force I feel I rail against more than any other idea in my life. That idea of self-importance really just gets to me. As a conscious being , the logical next step in any situation is to think of myself as important. It’s just as easy to pull back and look from a distance though, gazing from a detached perspective. Detached-me really has it figured out, riding a wave of zen out to destinations unknown, and loving it. In the meantime,  real-me sits and grapples with trivial things and remains relevant due to the immediacy of its nature. Everything always seems so important with a view from the top.

Despite this immense privilege, I feel it around me, what I perceive to be negative energy. I swim through it dealing in the way I feel is positive. No real reason,  just because. It’s very self-serving and a fine demonstration of delusional thinking to outside observers. It’s just too easy to think without being aware of every angle of that thought, leaving so many gaps and blind spots. Typing it out is one step, at least I don’t have to worry about the thought police (cue the ominous music)…or do I? Nope, probably have to worry if it’s just existential bullshit.

That inherent bullshit just screams at me though, I have no idea why I don’t completely submit and embrace the cynical bastard I am. I have every resource at my disposal to do so. It comes back to the laziness idea, in the end it’s just too much work. Change is exhausting and hard, and my infinitely complex and multi-faceted self reels at the possible outcomes.

Something about my being won’t let the idea (and the feeling, more importantly) of empathy go. Just thinking about it now, it makes total sense. Somehow, my ego feeds my empathy. It seems completely counter-intuitive, but it rings true when I type it. I take all my self-importance, and temper it with a healthy dose of laziness. Apparently, I have decided whatever I’m doing now is the easiest thing to do.

Until more information crops of, of course. Then one more arm can be added to the fractal, and I can continue down the spiral with greater efficiency.

Cheers, you cynical bastard.

Spaceman Spiff

The title says so much for me. It’s a starting point, not an afterthought.

I recently moved back in with my parents, and upon digging through piles of my incoming stuff and stuff I left when I moved out, I found piles of Calvin and Hobbes. It made me happier than I thought it would, as it has really turned into something worth revisiting since I dedicated myself to it back when I was 12.

The dry humor, the verbosity, the philosophical bent, the illustrations that are a world unto themselves. All of it brings me back to my childhood, and then right back to my (child-inspired) adulthood,  a simple comic melding the two into something new. Bringing up ideas that made sense to me then, and makes even more sense now. I believe this has something to do with wisdom, but I’m not going to commit to an idea like that.

Beyond the simple metaphor of comic strips though, so much is going on. It’s strange to think that one of  the northwest’s most violent strings of time coincides with your seeming growth, but there it is, coincidence at the ready to be folded into the narcissistic and selfish ideas of yourself.  Why else would they exist?

I just feel myself letting go. Ready for change, ready to be a master of my destiny and scream off into the cosmos as Spaceman Spiff in a little red ship. A hero of my own design, existing in a world I have no control over. Fate, fortune, and a willingness to show up all melding into something I want, something where I don’t even care that I’m fooling myself into thinking I have a modicum of control.

All I see now is my dreams on the horizon, ready to be fulfilled. Patiently waiting for me to catch up, with full awareness that it was an inevitability. It doesn’t even matter how much delusion these ideas contain, because it is beyond delusion now. It is full-blown acceptance, striving to hit light-speed. My life is malleable, my terms are malleable, but my soul is not. It will achieve its goals by any means necessary, yet prove it can be done while still adhering to the golden rule. It will be fully-aware, but knowing when it needs to turn a blind-eye. It will be a testament to the heights of humanity, knowing just how chock-full of hypocrisy it is.

It will be a paradox. But it will be mine.

Jenny

After what has probably been a couple years too long, the family dog Jenny has finally passed on.  I am sad, but also kind of relieved. It was long coming, and for the past year there were glimmers of the dog she once was, but not being able to hear, see, or have any idea of what was going on made it difficult to see her as the dog i grew up with.

What really bugs me now though is that i come here to memorialize my dog, but i never really did with my grandma. actually i did do that, briefly. i didn’t post it though, just printed it out and put it somewhere. I guess there are limits to what i will post.

but really, i’m not here to memorialize, probably more to reflect. and direct it to myself and revel in narcissism, because that’s really what the blog is about. it’s not the prettiest way to go about it, but i imagine it gets me somewhere eventually.

this is the same situation as with Grandma though. I have to come to grips with the death that is occurred, but both were almost blessings. by the time they both passed on, they were shells of their former selves, a ghost of what i had grown up with. i will still miss them dearly, but i was glad that they didn’t have to suffer anymore.

as time marches on, these are the only real signposts i have to go back to. i only wish it didn’t take such extenuating circumstances to make them memorable.

what difference does it make though, if it makes me remember. picking her up from some house way out past carnation not soon after my first dog died.  her being the only puppy that ran away but still licked my face when i picked her up, her black lab mom Oprah tied up to the porch barking.  running around the yard growing up, with her always right behind, just wanting to have fun and be where you were. hiding in the bathtub whenever thunderstorms occurred or it was near the 4th of July. her sleeping on the ground of my room no matter what age i was. frustration with her as i would let her outside to go to the bathroom and she would bolt into the dark woods barking at something, forcing me to chase her out there with a flashlight. the countless times jogging around the tuscany trail, her leading the way for about 5 minutes before getting too sidetracked and tired to keep up and having to wait for her to make sure she didn’t get lost. coming back home for holidays after i had moved out, her always hanging out in front of the garage happily greeting and looking like I had never left. even when she could barely get up to say hi, she still would make it happen,  her demeanor still filled with the sweetness that made her one of the best dogs ever.

it just makes me sit and reflect that i have all these moments. all of these memories i pick up along the way and can look back upon and feel happiness at the nostalgia, sadness at the loss, while everything else just keeps moving forward. with joy eventually must come sadness. but the more i boil it down, the less meaning i find to attach to it. all that matters are all those moments spent together, and that i remember them.

Ex

So this is part of my punishment, i suppose. having an idea, a fully-fleshed idea ready to go, and then forgotten. it had something to do with starting with “Ex”. Exaltation, extension, expensive, it doesn’t matter. As important as that idea may have seemed at the time, this one takes it’s place. you forgot a seemingly important idea. despite how important that first one may have been, aren’t you here now because of it? and aren’t you now expressing said idea inferiorly?

good job idiot, this is the life you live. just the thought of leaving this thought unedited leaves you happy. it would be incomprehensible. you’re not that drunk, but typing takes focus, and you’re too mad at yourself to do so properly. the filters you have in place at least take up enough space to keep you from doing this raw.

the conception was a good thought though, and hopefully, you can find your way back to it.

this does not bode well for your ideal self though, typed in words that are socially acceptable. true definitions are not beyond you, but are beyond what you are willing to expose to those who may discover who you are.

it feels like bullshit to type in code, but at the same time, it makes you think. the thought strikes you though: really this is stupid all-around, and anyone hoping to get anything out of this beyond yourself  is getting what they paid for.

now get back to rememberin’. who else is it going to do any good for?

Stevie Wonder

How do i get this far in my life and not get exposed to certain things?

I got my hands on Songs in the Key of Life and listened to it while i was helping heather with some crafty-work. I couldn’t believe it, i just couldn’t. All i ever hear is reverence for Stevie, but i’ve really only heard a few of his singles like “I just called to say I love you” and “Isn’t she lovely”. I pounded this album and wanted more, it was mind blowing. The way this album listens, it almost sounds like a greatest hits compilation. I also had no idea that Coolio straight jacked everything but the lyrics to Gangsta’s paradise from Stevie. This album contains everything i love about music.

Which brings me back to the original question i posed at the beginning of this post, and the answer is obvious. It’s because discovering things like this and appreciating it on your terms is what makes your life wonderful. Finding culture, new or old, and realizing something you hadn’t before. The timing behind finding something and integrating it just has to happen naturally, but that drive to find things and stay open is the part that takes work.

You stay open because the reward can be something shining like this, something beyond anything you ever expected.

Of course being that open inevitably leads to posts like the previous one.

It’s worth it though, it’s so worth it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. It wouldn’t be worth the bother.

Overdrive

a quick note to self before getting to the topic at hand: filthy beers had it’s first semi-public tasting and did a bang up job, and even though it’s been going on for a year, it feels like things are finally starting. and now back to said topic.

It may have been being sick for the past month, it may be a shift in the moon’s gravity, it might be a slight switch in brain chemistry. Whatever it is, i feel like i’m in overdrive. I want to go out and be interacting with people and life at every moment of everyday. I feel like my creative juices and mental acuity are at the highest highs they’ve had in awhile. i feel like i should be striking while the iron is hot.

i’m busy all the time, but i want to be, it feels exhilarating. i’m flirting very closely with the line of too-many-things-syndrome, but i feel the most purposeful i have in a long time. it’s directed at beer, friends, family, life. i want to be out there in it, interacting, doing.

this happens occasionally, but i feel like i’m gearing up my mind and body to really make a go of it in the brewing game. because if i want to be successful at it, i’m going to have to be running at this pace all the time, no foolin’. it’s a strange mindset of truly knowing failure is not an option. not in the sense of the phrase where it’s do or die, but in the sense that nothing is going to stop me.

apparently, if i can direct it properly and justify it to myself, i am a force to be reckoned with. fingers crossed.

Macklemore

Ridiculous.

Seriously, filthy and ridiculous. Heather and i went to see Macklemore perform to a sold out showbox, and it was one of the most melancholy shows i have ever seen. totally not due to macklemore though, it was all on me. He rocked it harder than i had ever seen him do.

But two songs in, i felt the melancholy. This is his big sold-out Seattle tour before he goes on his nationwide one, and the crowd energy waiting to see him off was thick in the air.  The opening acts had the luxurious luxury of a die-hard crowd waiting for Seattle music. All the opening acts rocked, and got a willing and able crowd. Then Mack came out and killed it like he always does. It felt different this time though. Like i was saying goodbye.

Not to get too sentimental, but i felt happy with such a touch of sadness. I got really cheesy and was trying to remember a Shawshank Redemption quote i knew fit so perfectly. I’m just going to type what i came up with as opposed to googling it because it’s the feeling, not the exact words. they go: “some caged birds are so beautiful, they make your world feel that much less bright when they leave, but you knew it was a sin to keep them in the first place”  it feels wildly inappropriate on reflection now, but the general idea is there. There was an element of farewell.

Just a mere 3 years ago, I saw macklemore flyering the hell out of a show he had coming up in a couple weeks, right at the neumos exit, after killing it as the most prominent opening act there that night. probably a year later, I went to Nectar on the Vs. album release and paid a $20 “suggested donation” (a term i am highly fond of) for the album he and this dude Ryan Lewis were putting out, because i loved what they were doing. Meeting and getting to talk to him at the various events of his we’ve been to, and seeing what a cool guy he is.

it’s been growing and has ended up at this big triple sell-out in seattle before hitting the road. seeing him put his usual A game and realizing he was going to be showcasing it for the rest of the nation gave me a little NW pride. Actually seeing the beginning and being there  for what i considered a culminlation was a little over-whelming for my sappy self.

as effusive as this seems though, my admiration pales in comparison to hers, my wife. he’s her “hip-hop husband”.

can’t blame her.