I've been blogging for nearly seven years now, though, as some of my long-term readers can attest, I've been inconsistent at points. I was looking over some of those first posts and was thinking about how far I've come. I was twenty-one, a junior in college, living with a bunch of guys whom I still considered some of my best friends, and I was just learning how to write. Not in the sense of my ABC's, or learning how to type or even write a paper. I was learning how to write what I was feeling. But it didn't come out that way a lot of times.
For a long while I wrote about what was going on in my life, and it ended up coming across more like a report of what I did or was doing. Of course I can look at the posts and remember the emotions behind it. And I can see hints of what was going on behind the scenes, so to speak. There was a lot of editing, trying not to reveal too much and yet give a somewhat reliable story of my life. And I suppose the editing still goes on, it's tough for me to justify putting my whole heart out on the internet.
My writing evolved. The report-like posts gave way to a variety of different types of posts: topical essays, anecdotes, rants, fragmented absurdities, lists, best of's, etc. I suppose I realized the boringness of having to read someone's what I did today posts when that is all the person ever posted. Now days I'm trying to find the stories in my life and write about them. Or making up stories and posting them. Or putting together some introspective thoughts. Sometimes I think it would be nice to return to those old style posts, just giving the details and leaving my thoughts out. It would be easier, especially when I am going through the crap of life and don't really want to anyone to step in and sift through it with me. But a long time ago I made the decision to share my life, not always through this blog, but sometimes through it. And it would be dishonest and less safe for me to return to that. But then again, I could just write ambiguous and introspective thoughts and leave you with no real insight into my life*. you have my love.
*Sorry, I couldn't figure out how to end this post.
Friday, October 09, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space
It is no secret that I have recently given into and fully embraced that which is Battlestar Galactica [BSG]. For those who doubt, I challenge you to watch it, and by the end of the second [2.5] season you can make a judgement call on it. However, this post is only inspired by BSG, not about it. Let me proceed.
One reason I like BSG so much is the idea of a Battlestar fleet in general. There is a fleet of ships out there, defending the peoples and exploring the great expanse of space. Obviously BSG isn't the first narrative to go on about the idea of exploration [Star Trek, On The Road, Moby Dick?, etc.], and furthermore is more about the protection aspect, which is why this post isn't necessarily about the show, but about the idea. I have long had a love for the idea of exploration. Sometimes when I am in a beautiful place I wonder what it would be like to be the first person ever to see it. Can you imagine what the first person thought when they saw the Grand Canyon? I've never been, but I've seen pictures so I would know what to expect - and even then I would be amazed beyond belief. Now imagine someone who was just trekking along and came across it. I would have loved to be with Magellan as he travelled around [circumvent] the world.
The second part of the equation is that, in these narratives and real life events, the exploration was done in community. These days people cross oceans and continents and the world by themselves and are heralded as champions of the human spirit, or some crap like that. When I see those stories in the news I think, 'man, I would miss my loved ones. Wouldn't it be such a better trip if they were with them?' And it's true. I have verified personal, experiential evidence that proves when one experiences something that ought be meaningful, it is less meaningful when experienced alone. [It should be noted at this point that I'm tired and drinking whiskey, so I'm not sure where this is going anymore*]. I could go into great detail about community and such, but if you're reading my blog you more than likely know how I feel about community. If you don't, ask, I'll inform you.
So, there the crew of Galactica is, floating around in space, living in community. It's harsh and imperfect and ripe for exploration and adventure. Eating meals together, mourning and celebrating, learning to forgive, forgetting and learning again. Community and exploration, hand in hand. To me, there may be nothing better. So either I join the Starfleet or I get going on finding a way to live that out here on terra firma. And I'm happy to do that, I'm excited at the possibilities ahead of me. Excited to explore this life more fully than I have been these past few years. There's a positive turn coming up around the bend, I feel it and it's unsafe and ready to be embraced. you have my love.
*Rambleblog of the year. Friends don't let friends drink and blog.
One reason I like BSG so much is the idea of a Battlestar fleet in general. There is a fleet of ships out there, defending the peoples and exploring the great expanse of space. Obviously BSG isn't the first narrative to go on about the idea of exploration [Star Trek, On The Road, Moby Dick?, etc.], and furthermore is more about the protection aspect, which is why this post isn't necessarily about the show, but about the idea. I have long had a love for the idea of exploration. Sometimes when I am in a beautiful place I wonder what it would be like to be the first person ever to see it. Can you imagine what the first person thought when they saw the Grand Canyon? I've never been, but I've seen pictures so I would know what to expect - and even then I would be amazed beyond belief. Now imagine someone who was just trekking along and came across it. I would have loved to be with Magellan as he travelled around [circumvent] the world.
The second part of the equation is that, in these narratives and real life events, the exploration was done in community. These days people cross oceans and continents and the world by themselves and are heralded as champions of the human spirit, or some crap like that. When I see those stories in the news I think, 'man, I would miss my loved ones. Wouldn't it be such a better trip if they were with them?' And it's true. I have verified personal, experiential evidence that proves when one experiences something that ought be meaningful, it is less meaningful when experienced alone. [It should be noted at this point that I'm tired and drinking whiskey, so I'm not sure where this is going anymore*]. I could go into great detail about community and such, but if you're reading my blog you more than likely know how I feel about community. If you don't, ask, I'll inform you.
So, there the crew of Galactica is, floating around in space, living in community. It's harsh and imperfect and ripe for exploration and adventure. Eating meals together, mourning and celebrating, learning to forgive, forgetting and learning again. Community and exploration, hand in hand. To me, there may be nothing better. So either I join the Starfleet or I get going on finding a way to live that out here on terra firma. And I'm happy to do that, I'm excited at the possibilities ahead of me. Excited to explore this life more fully than I have been these past few years. There's a positive turn coming up around the bend, I feel it and it's unsafe and ready to be embraced. you have my love.
*Rambleblog of the year. Friends don't let friends drink and blog.
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