When is the first time you really knew you could make it on your own?
I think for each of us in life, there is a moment, a first realization that no matter what life brings you in the future, you know that you will always make it.
For me that was the moment that I made it back out of the Grand Canyon. I was there with fellow classmates on a big three-week trip out west, an adventure. It was the longest period of time I’d ever been away from home. We studied archaeology with folks in a place near Cortez, Colorado called Crow Canyon, climbed Mesa Verde to see the cliff dwellings, visited the bats at Carlsbad Caverns, danced on the spot where the four corners of Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico and Utah all come together, and ended the trip with a three night stay at the Grand Canyon, lots of hiking, and camping all the way. I’d climbed Table Rock Mountain the year before, but at the Grand Canyon, walking one of the mule tour trails, the climb in was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. Cool and shady on the way down, the winding track ended with a large plateau about an hour down the trail with a fantastic view. The climb back out though was no picnic. It was sweltering, and it just seemed steeper and harder than it should be. The park guides had warned us to bring water, and take it easy, but it seemed like the further I climbed; the further away seemed the ridge.
There’s climbing a mountain with your classmates, knowing that if you can’t make it, you can always rest, and join them on their way back to the bus, but when you’re climbing to the ridge at the Grand Canyon, It’s just you, your canteen and the sun until you make it out, and after a while I was starting to slow down, and fall behind. A little longer still, I was baking, and could no longer see any of my classmates ahead of me on the trail.
When I arrived at the top, I was broken, and drenched, and last, but in the faces of my classmates, where I was expecting to find annoyance, or disgust with my falling behind, I only found friendship, well rested friends and applause for finally making it to the top. Sarcasm or no, I didn't care. I'd made it, and that was all that mattered.
I knew at that moment, that anything life sent my way, I’d be able to handle it.
So, what’s that moment for you, when you looked around, and despite the task, ordeal or situation, you realized that whatever life sent your way, you really could make it on your own?
When was that moment for you?
That mustache feeling
I have to admit, that many years ago, when the mustache crawled across the Tick's face and started typing a note to him in Spanish, that I've been thinking about growing my own. It took many years, (I wonder why sometimes) but I've finally done it, beard and all. Though I think about shaving it off every single day, I can't help but be thankful that I did it. I had always wondered, and this may sound odd, what God intended my face to look like. So, while on vacation to Disney World what seems like a lifetime ago now, I decided to toss the razors and see how long I could take it.
I'm happy to say that I kind of like the look. It hides a lot of my neck, and it's not nearly as uncomfortable as I thought it might be in the Georgia heat.I think everyone should try one eventually. The truth is I don't think I thought would actually like it. I figured in three months or six months that I would shave it off and be done with it, but the truth is that nearly two years later I still have it. prior to this I had fooled around with growing a beard, but every time the at the week's end I couldn't stand it and I would shave it off. There was one time when I was working at a local seminary where I let it go for a week and gave it a good look in the mirror and really thought about keeping it because I liked the way it looked. In the end it took a Disney trip and seriously working through an itchy stage before I got it finished. Interestingly there's a patch on the left side of my face about the size of a thumb print that doesn't really grow at all. That should keep me debating cutting the sides off and going for more of a goatee instead of the full beard for a while.
It's of course there's a lot of writers out there who are famous for their beards, Stephen King being one of them who have always admired I consider George Lucas a great storyteller, also with a good beard and who could forget the practically iconic Alan Moore, responsible for some of the best Swamp Thing has to offer as well as Watchmen and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, please the comic book and not the movie. I don't know whether I am modeling myself after these people, justifying a beard based on some of my personal heroes or just considering it an amusing story. Either way it seems the beard is here to stay, at least for a while.
Picking the right instrument
There are things in my life that have great meaning, and the idea of playing music is one of those things. It's also the thing that has made me think a lot about what I'm doing and what I want out of life, and it's also been one of the hardest things I've ever taken on, but occasionally over the years I've had this bug to learn to play music.
I decided a few months ago to start to learn to play an instrument. I have never played one before save for about a three week stint in my teens when I decided that the guitar wasn't for me, and after nearly twenty years later I still had the bug. I can paint, I can write, and I can sing, and though the site of me dancing is an experience all of its own, I still want to learn to play an instrument.
So, I laid them all out. What should I learn to play? Should I learn to play the piano? I don't really want to learn anything that big, and I don't count electric keyboards in the mix. Aside from the fun to be had by Ferris Bueler, I've really never seen the attraction, so without the room for a baby grand or an upright, I really didn't want something that I couldn't carry around. So, with that thought, out go the xylophones and drums as well.
I thought about brass instruments, and woodwinds. Would they be a possibility? Every time I ask someone what kind of instrument I should learn, I hear "Learn the saxophone." and I have to admit that I considered it. I considered it for so long that nearly ten years went by, and I still wasn't learning how to play an instrument! The problem with woodwinds and brass is, that you have to use your mouth, and I like to talk. I like to talk and tell stories, and use any instrument like I'm some kind of bard or wandering minstrel. I like to think of myself sometimes as one of those long lost fire side story tellers, complete with a goat skull cap, with the wild beard and the magician's staff, the keeper of a vast tradition of oral teachings or entertainments. So they were out. If you can't talk while you play then I'm just not interested in it.
That left me with strings. I wasn't really interested in getting on the wagon again with the guitar. Holding the neck was painful, and awkward for me, so I had to find something else. I still saw myself as one of these wandering storytellers though, so I wanted to make sure that It would fit that for me. Something that I could take with me when telling a story. Veering away from the guitars, I was led more to bluegrass instruments. While not generally my thing, they have potential, and I like the way they sound.
When I really got serious, and started getting into it, I landed on the Mandolin. Or maybe it landed on me, I'm not sure. I'm still no good with it, and maybe I never will be, but I expect that if I stick with it long enough, I'll get good enough to satisfy myself. I bought it before I lost my nerve, after much debate and gnashing of teeth. It wasn't so much the cost of the Mandolin. I had decided to get a student quality one, but the lessons, and that's not even about the money, but the time involved. They say it takes about two years to get good at an instrument. I'm two months down now, and I still haven't propperly introduced my left hand to my right yet. Ah well. I'll get there.
I'm looking forward to it though, wherever it leads me. One thing is for sure. I like being someone who has bought an instrument and is struggling with it, a lot better than being someone who hasn't taken the leap yet.
An important note: The video clip on this entry is not me. I only aspire to this. One day I'll get there. Right now, it makes my hand cramp just to watch this.
Have you taken your leap yet? No? Get on with it!
