Uphill, uphill

Life is an uphill battle. 

Or so I've been told.

I don't even remember the first time I actually heard that expression. Those words may be lyrics from a song, or maybe just an expression popularized by Pop Culture. I really couldn't tell you. But in any case, for most of my life, that warning was never really taken seriously. Instead, it hung out in a stupid box that I constructed using old cheese and corn, clumped and tangled together with the other Shoot for the Moon; even if you miss you'll land among the stars and Life is not about the number of breaths you took, but the number of moments that took your breath away crap. (I actually just gagged a little while typing those out). I figured that if I wasn't going to contemplate those words of wisdom, then maybe I could just put them together and then they could contemplate each other.

But lately, I've been thinking about this one. Mostly because lately, the truth of this one has dawned on me. It wasn't a welcomed dawn, either. It didn't feel anything like a warm, gentle glow of morning slowly rising into the cool sky, spreading its rays across my face as the peaceful symphony of the chirping birds began its chorus. (Ugh). No, it actually felt like being woken up by getting slapped across the face and wet willy'ed at the same time by someone you find annoying in your bedroom- who you did not invite into, by the way- and now you're pissed because things were so much less crappy when you were still sleeping. Yeah, picture that.

And then, after the terrible awakening, it's like you go downstairs to the kitchen to make yourself some french toast and coffee and while you're sitting there gnawing away at your burnt bread crust, suddenly your eyes get all wide and you smack both hands onto the table and you're like, "OH SHOOT LIFE IS AN UPHILL BATTLE!"  

And then, suddenly, you realize it and you can't un-realize it. You start thinking about all the ways that that expression has proven itself to be true in your life thus far. You're thinking about that one time you worked out vigorously and ate only fresh fruits and vegetables for a three-week stretch, and then on the twenty second day of the month, you decided to sit on the couch and read a book (since your calves were super sore from your daily treadmill routine) and eat like, six french fries (since your stomach was looking nicely concave from the starvation), and then you ruined everything. You woke up the next day with a dozen pimples and a beer gut, even though you didn't even drink any beer!

And then, you're thinking about how you were in college and you got like pretty much straight-A's in all of your classes, but no one would ever think that since your GPA was permanently made ugly by the one calculus class you took your first semester of freshman year (and you're also thinking at this point that they should probably stop letting freshmen take that class).

You look down at your breakfast and push it aside; you've lost your appetite. You think on how quickly an athlete can fall out of shape, or how quickly a relationship can be destroyed. You imagine all the ways that life demands an uphill crawl, and how far you can fall the moment you let up. There is no time for rest. You work hard, always, day after day in hopes that you can continue pulling against gravity the next day. One hand in front of the other, one foot after the other. The daily grind demands the rhythm of right, left, right. And now you are aware that at any given moment, your uphill battle can be disrupted or completely brought to ruin. If you climb carefully, you can be healthy for years. But one swift accident can mean that you'll be climbing the rest of your days without any legs. Your hard, meticulous work over a period of years may result in an impressive portfolio, but one mistake is the low cost of being jobless and blacklisted. You finally understand how uphill affects you; it means that your movements always require intentional effort, and there will be times when it feels like you're being pushed backwards.

So, you wonder to yourself, what does this leave us with?

Well, I certainly can't tell you. But maybe I can tickle you.

So maybe life is an uphill battle. But maybe it doesn't have to be one we're guaranteed to lose. Maybe all your hard work and perseverance isn't worth it; maybe it is. Maybe you have to fight to keep fighting to find out. Maybe knowing this means you should take more risks, and have more fun. Maybe it means nothing, changes nothing. Maybe it just means that the next time you step on the scale after a weekend of  "eating terribly," you won't be so upset because you know that you'll get to try this all over again.

Up and up and up we go.

Soldier on,
bcl.

Being's seven children

Dear Blogosphere,

For those of you who haven't already heard the news (how behind are you?), I have now been jobless in Detroit for about a month.

Yes, it's true.

When my year-long fellowship with Challenge Detroit drew to an end at the end of August, I quit my job at Valassis, and have been full-time unemployed since September 4, 2013.

Because of my new-found 9 to 5 freedom, I have had a lot of time to sit with my thoughts lately. To sit with them, play with them, drink tea with them; giggle with some, and throw others away. Most of these thoughts have been born of the same family- the Being family.

I suppose the truth is that I've been flirting with this family for some time now. As I've taken a pause recently to look carefully back at the last several years, I can't say that I'm surprised by how many of my past decisions, dreams, wants, and trials have come about under the indirect (or direct) influence of the Beings. Their seven children, named Passion, Talent, Purpose, Direction, Wisdom, Conviction, and Adventure are the ones that I have spent the most time with. In fact, even my most recent big decision to leave Valassis is directly related to my growing intimacy with these very loud, loud friends. With the passage of time, they have only gotten louder.

You see, I have spent enough time with the seven of them that I've become pretty familiar with their individual voices and techniques. Passion and Adventure are the most beautiful of the children; they are seductive in their appearances, and their sultry voices whisper to me daily the promises of a radical, vibrant life if I follow them. They tell me stories of faraway places and people; they tease me with pictures of higher heights, deeper depths, and culture, food, and music. They write songs about beautiful things. They tell me that I can have it all.

Purpose and Conviction are the twins who know what they want. My relationship with the two of them is admittedly a slightly unhealthy one. They have been leading me on for some time now. They weave in and out of my thoughts, twisting their long, supple bodies around my limbs feigning closeness with me. Then, when they've got me wrapped tightly, kneeling quietly with my hands folded together and head bowed low, they inch their mouths closer and closer to my ear. Just as I think that they are finally going to whisper their secrets to me, they inhale sharply, and snap back. Just like that. I've been the losing player in this game for years.

Talent is the bi-polar middle child. One moment, he is charismatic and outgoing-- brilliant, really. And in the next moment, he is shy and deeply insecure. He talks to himself, you know. And sometimes, when he's not paying attention, I can even inch close enough to him to hear what he's muttering so quietly under his breath. "You are uniquely hand crafted, you know. Beautifully gifted, designed.. but you're not that special after all. Look at you. Look at him. Look at her. There's no comparison. You never stood a chance. But you are God's beloved child. A creation of the King. Your skills were deposited one by one. You could never really be that blessed.." It's eerie, really, to listen to Talent speak truths and lies to himself day after day after day.

Direction is the eldest brother. His hair- which was, not too long ago, thick and a rich, chocolatey brown- has appeared increasingly thin and grey the last few times that I've seen him. Over our last coffee house date, he told me that he feels lost and tired. He shared with me about the pressure that the rest of the family has laid on him. He told me that he constantly feels stressed out because his younger siblings all look to him for guidance. They tell him that they're too scared to take any steps unless he leads them first. I took a long, slow drag of my vanilla latte as he stared deeply into his hot, heavy black coffee with the saddest, most tired eyes I've seen in a long time.

Wisdom is the most mature of them all. At least that's what she wants people to think. Her outfits are always nice- clean and well pressed. She sits up tall, and stands up taller. She appears well put-together to the untrained eye, but to me- someone who has watched her closely for years, debated with her, played with her- it is obvious that her shiny shoes are scuffed on the bottom, her blouses all have moth-eaten holes, and the threads on her jackets are snagged. The truth is, she doesn't have it all together. She's trying to figure it out as she goes, but she is bitter and resentful about how slowly she seems to be growing up. She tries to dress and speak as if she were an old, wise woman with the wrinkled forehead and deep age lines etched around her jaws.. but, you know, she's only twenty-three. Her act is tired.

Despite all of the vast differences between the Beings, there still appear to be a few things that they all agree on. Quitting Valassis was one of them. When I began considering leaving the Fortune 700 corporation, they all encouraged me enthusiastically. They assured me that I had to be made for something more than a Monday-through-Friday-9-to-5-corporate-desk-job that didn't challenge me, or leave me feeling fulfilled in any way. Plus, it was making me fat. They assured me that this wasn't what I wanted at this moment in my life, and they also cautioned me that if I didn't leave at the benchmarked year's end, I would become comfortable (lazy) and only struggle harder to leave at a later date. When I finally announced my last day at Valassis to them, I was greeted with the most glorious seven-part chorus.

And so, for the past month, I have had lots of time to hang out with the Beings. Lately, we've gotten into wrestling. Which is significant because I actually think wrestling is disgusting. But since I have been guaranteed immunity from broccoli ear and worm fungus, I figure that it's okay this time. Anyway, I can hear them yelling for me from the basement now.. (I promised them that I'd watch "Wreck it Ralph" with them today after church).

Talk soon.

- bcl.