The Art of Racing in the Rain #2

There are things that happen in life, that are so close to destiny that I can hardly stand it. You see, I don't like to believe in destiny because it makes me feel like my life is not my responsibility. But maybe it's the opposite, maybe those things--destined things--happening and weaving them together is just as much of a responsibility as a life without destiny.

But this is not of my concern at the moment. Enzo is.

Enzo is the narrator of this book I'm reading, The Art of Racing in the Rain. And, this book, may be part of my destiny. Because it's teaching me things I need to learn, right now. First lesson - life is not about life, life is about making things beautiful and making beautiful things.

Lesson two: here's the context.

I work in consulting. More specifically, I work for a firm that executes and implements projects, not just creates strategies. The firm I work for puts rubber to the road. Because of this, I've started to become inculcated in the doctrine of executable strategies.

I shouldn't do this...well, I should, but not exactly.

See, the problem is, when executing there is time, money and effort that is spent. All of these things are limited, as is the capability of the people executing. So, there comes a time when someone executing on a project must say, "We need to get this done".

And that makes sense, because the world is not built by dreamers, but by doers. The problem is, beautiful things are built by dreamers.

I'm making a promise to myself, right now, that I won't become a doer at the cost of relinquishing "the dreamer" in me. It can't do it. I will not give up what is right, responsible, or ideal for sake of "getting things done". I just won't do it because I don't want to live in a world, I want to live in a beautiful world.

Now, I know that there are many battles between convenience and virtue, and not all of them are worth fighting. I acknowledge this. I make this promise to not give up on the big battles. And, I'll try my darnedest to take care of the small ones too.

You might think this is silly. Resources are limited. Time, money, effort, and expertise are limited. To this, I offer no argument. But I do think that view is narrow minded.

Imagination is an unlimited, renewable, resource. If we have this, there is no reason to think we cannot execute while still preserving principle and doing what's right.

Making beautiful things and making things beautiful

There are times where meaning and truth come out of opacity, to translucency and into clarity. By which I mean, therea re times wehre things just make a helluva lot of sense. now is one of those times.

I can't precisely say where this came from, but it did. I was reading "The Art of Racing in the Rain" which is a wonderful story, I might add (I'm halfway through). And I started thinking - I'm the luckiest guy I know. I love life, even when it's hard.

My life is not average, my life is easy. I have great friends, great parents and family, food on the table, blankets on my bed and I get to spend my time doing things I enjoy. Our country is not war torn, nor is my neighborhood. I deserve very little, if any, of it. But self-deprecation is not what I'm trying to accomplish here.

In this vein, I often think about words to describe life. One word tends to be one I keep coming back to - beautiful. Life is beautiful. The things that happen in life are beautiful as is life itself. Take a second, realize how many unlikely circumstances in the universe have had to happen for you have taken a breath...it's amazing.

Again, in this vein, I often think about what the point of life might be. For the longest time, I thought it was simply to live. To be. To have life. But reveling in living and being appreciative of life itself, I ruminated this evening, isn't the point. Because the beauty of life is only partly an intrinsic quality. In addition to things having inherent beauty, I think it also takes something else. Intent.

So, I think life isn't just about living - that's almost lazy and necessary but not sufficient. I think the point is to both make beautiful things or make things beautiful. Essentially it is to provide goods and services, except the end goal is not a profit, it is attaining beauty. I think it's that simple.

Second Thoughts on Draft #1

So, the last post -- piss poor quality of writing aside -- just struck another thought. Let me explain.

"The Ways I Wait" wasn't about anyone in particular. Instead it was an emotion and reflection on the idea of someone or something. At the time, I thought it was a powerful feeling...something rooted in a deep stirring that causes thoughtful engagement in day-to-day life

Is it? Or is it "'emotional cowardice"? By emotional cowardice I mean something that's emotionally hollow and used as a shield to deflect real feelings and experiences with real people?

Think of it this way...if it's a genuine, powerful, feeling and idea -- the act of loving and being committed to the idea of someone that isn't explicitly identified -- maybe it causes the thinker to dive right into life. But if it isn't, maybe the idea is a self-defense mechanism that provides a rationalizing for not diving into life?

Ahh, hard to explain and I'm really hungry so I don't have the patience to sound it out.

But maybe this is a simpler model to explain the difference.

If idea presented in "The ways I wait" is something powerful and genuine: Think --> Imagine ideal state --> Try damndest to build ideal state

If idea presented in "The ways I wait" is on the order of emotional cowardice: Think --> Imagine ideal state --> Thought that "nothing lives up to the imagined ideal state" --> Rationalization of inaction

Looking at it this way, there seem to be two things that influence the outcome.

1. Imagination of the ideal state - You have to begin with the end in mind, here. It has to be an authentic conceptualization of the ideal state...something that works in the real world. Something simple...a criteria that can be evaluated against.

2. The first move after Imagining the ideal state. If you don't start to act, right at that moment...when would you?

Simply put...you have to really clearly know what you want...then go after it like a madman. Sounds a lot like any task.

Draft #1

A return to spoken word (at least a legitimate attempt, finally. This is a draft of course...I just won't be able to read my notebook handwriting if I don't strike now!)

The Ways I Wait - Draft #1

I think I'll know you in a flurry.

In a sunlight-broaching-past-you-standing-in-the-doorway-of-a-hardwood-floored-urban-apartment sort of way. With a peaceful, heart-throbbing fury.

Divine, honest, and true.

But until then darling, these are the ways I wait for you:

By gleefully squeezing where the back of your hand and the base of your digits would be,

when a song comes on that we'll listen to someday.

Your hands are aged but soft, I already know.

By looking across dinner for one, imagining glances of you avoiding your tomatoes reminding me that "honey, salt isn't good for you". Attracting your TLC with the shaker is half the reason I have a "salty" tooth.

Or by smelling and putting my fingers through your hair, as if you're already there. And saving saving square-footage of comforter and fluffing your pillow to practice for our nightly routine.

And dream about you.

[spoken rapidly to a crescendo]by dipping a broomstick, curbing my cursing, practicing pancake flipping, avoiding trans fats, putting the seat down, mowing the lawn, dotting my Is, crossing my ts, wearing sunscreen and, waiting, hoping wishing and waiting to open my eyes...

Sometime. One time. I do.

But until then darling, these are the ways I wait for you.