Ron Santo and a son's love...

This is one thing that reminds me of the innocence of my own childhood and the undying love and respect I have for my own father. Hate the Cubs as some of you may, but there is nothing more special in my life, outside of our faith in God, than that bond me and my pappy have than in our dual love of the Cubs.

Whether it was a Fathers Day in the bleachers, a late-night together -- me dozing off on his lap as he ate non-frosting blueberry Pop Tarts and drank Vitamin D milk while watching the Cubs play a night game on the west coast, or simply being on the phone with him in the midst of his prostate cancer radiation treatments as Carlo Zambrano threw the first no-hitter since my dad's childhood, it is and has always been one common and unbreakable bond between the two of us...

Ron Santo was very symbolic of that "blind loyalty" many of us Cub fans share...hate the Cubs as you might, but there's as much father-son sentimentality in my "fan-dom" as there is team loyalty. It's my fondest childhood memory of me and my dad, playing whiffle ball in the front lawn as I emulated every batting stance and pitching windup from my modern Cubs against him, as he perfectly emulated the batting stances and pitching motion of his favorite '69 Cubs.

My dad loved Ron Santo as a hero, and it strikes a chord with me when one of my pappy's own heroes passes on...life is fragile and it always brings to light the mortality we share daily with our own fathers....our mentors ...our own personal heroes...and, for me, my best friend...

"He whispered, "Don't Cry, we'll meet by and by near the Heavenly Hall of Fame. I've got season's tickets to watch the Angels now, so its just what I'm going to do...but you the living, you're stuck here with the Cubs, so its me that feels sorry for you!"

"Do they still play the blues in Chicago When baseball season rolls around When the snow melts away, Do the Cubbies still play In their ivy-covered burial ground When I was a boy they were my pride and joy But now they only bring fatigue To the home of the brave The land of the free And the doormat of the National League..."

Poof...

It's been a while since I've posted on here as I have been busy with life, teaching and a host of fun with some special people in my life. While busy, the last few months have been quite therapeutic in so many ways...it's been a rough eight months. I've made some life changing decisions, faced the darkest of times followed by some amazingly bright moments of reassurance. I've walked, stumbled, stood tall, fought back, dodged, ducked, battled and shown resilience.

It's been a constant barrage of lessons I wouldn't trade for anything in the world, and here are a few of the more poignant I've learned as I've sprinted through this mine field of life in 2010.

1) NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF THE LAWNMOWER: I know it sounds pretty sophomoric but this dance move can lead to very special things, depending on your luck. A dork like me could stumble into the arms of a '10' by merely mowing the lawn on the dance floor, especially if a 'gunslinger' is added into the mix. Delicious isn't a word to describe its power.

2) CALLOUSED HEARTS LEAD TO LONELINESS: There's so much pain in this world, but its only rivaled by the wonderful moments pain can lead to. Early this year, my life changed from one to another as I experienced a dose of heartache. Seriously, I thought I'd never feel the same, and maybe it's true, but at the same time, it allowed me to purge myself from some bad habits I have acquired along the way. What can I say: I'm a hopeless romantic trying to be romantic without being as hopeless...this is still a work in progress.

3) NOTHING IS AS UPLIFTING AS A KIND WORD FROM A STRANGER: Ever had a bad day? Yeah, me too. In fact, in one of the worst days of my year, I happen to receive a compliment from a total stranger that not only boosted my confidence but also encouraged me in a moment I felt as far from the finish line as I've ever been. It's strange, but a compliment from a friend is great but when someone — someone without any vested interest in your success or failure — encourages you, it makes those darkest of moments light up like a Christmas tree. I've made it a point to find ways to encourage complete strangers since that day, and here's hoping it's passed forward to others as well.

4) STILL HATE VEGAS DOUSCHES: They don't change. Sorry, I'm not into Fox Racing, don't enjoy UFC, wear TapOut gear, don white flat-billed caps cocked to the left and I don't treat women like garbage. If that's being cool, well, I'm content with being as dorky as possible. I've seen so many tool bags treat the lovely ladies in their lives with such contempt and disrespect lately, it's enough to make a grown man wretch. I've also learned that some women gravitate towards that and it's unfortunate. They deserve to have someone appreciate them for all the beauty they have inside and out yet they're like a magnet for these overgrown children who would rather watch a cage fight than spend a night on a hilltop kissing her gently under the stars.

5) SOBRIETY SEEMS TO BE A GOOD IDEA FROM TIME TO TIME: I haven't had a sip of alcohol since February. Not a drop, and I think it has allowed me to dig deeper into the layers I may have overlooked over the course of my life. It's not like I've been sloppy drunk all the time prior, but I've noticed a sense of clear thinking, far from numbed and sharper than a blade, as I tackle serious issues from my past. It's a pretty good thing to take timeouts from the ole booze and allow your mind, body and soul recharge. In fact, it's reassuring that it doesn't take much effort to refrain, and I'm happy to have battled through some tough moments and feel every bit of emotion as I endured.

6) NEVER TAKE THINGS FOR GRANTED: I know we all say this, but what happens? We take someone for granted and, "POOF!" they're gone. The human mind has a tendency to get comfortable when it is in the same place for too long. Nothing hurts worse worse than to feel taken for granted, and there's few more hurtful things to do to friends or people you care about than to make them feel this way either. The grass is always greener, and then — when it's gone — the opposing grass never quite measures up. This requires breaking the patterns of our past and realizing a good thing when you have it. Nothing more painful than regret...

7) WE'RE ALL MORONS: Nobody gives perfect advice. In fact, we usually do more damage than good, but we usually make ourselves less valuable the moment we open our mouths. Listen more often, stay off those iPhones, don't text others when you're spending time with someone special and always allow the other person vent. It's amazing how helpful you can be when you simply hold someone and allow them to spill their guts. Everyone wants to be heard, and deserves to have that luxury. Listen, and don't minimize others' pain by simply waiting for your turn to run your mouth. Give them the floor, rhetorically. With that said, what do I know? I'm the king of the morons.

When those nervous butterflies roll in, and life seems to painfully flick your earlobes, just remember that life comes in peaks and valleys. Sometimes the best times get overshadowed by our own ignorance and the worst times come and go without the least bit of learning. Be still, and listen to life's voice as you travel this path, and learn through every experience as if it's your first day of high school...

The Phantom Burden...

A man, falsely accused and convicted despite his innocence, was sentenced to walk the earth with a large boulder strapped onto his shoulders. Forced to carry this burden with every breath, the man toiled through life with the weight of his burden pushing him down with every step. Fighting many sleepless nights, shedding solitary tears hidden behind the façade of a jester’s smile, he walked the earth carrying his burden everywhere, a shell of his former self.

Finally, years later, he was found to be innocent and his sentence was vacated. The boulder was lifted and he was free to continue his life without the boulder and the weight it brought upon him. A funny thing happened to the man once his burden was lifted. Maybe it was his body’s constant conditioning to walk with the burden, or perhaps his fear that he would, once again, find himself unjustly accused and punished, but even with the boulder gone, the man simply refused to stand upright again, instead choosing to walk hunched over as if he still carried his unjust punishment.

His family begged him to move on and to rise up, his friends urged him to stand strong and put his past behind him, but the man simply did not have the strength or courage to move on. He was conditioned to carry a phantom burden in his mind’s eye, walking the earth as if he were responsible for something he had no control over.

Finally, one day as the man walked out away from his house, he looked towards a new path he hadn’t noticed. This path was different than anything he had ever seen — it led to a place of untold adventure, satisfaction and peace. But the path was perilous, steep and was no place for a man who could not stand upright or carry himself through the snares and unstable footing.

Desperate for peace and a new start, he looked back at his house, then down at the path — which was blocked by a large boulder, reminiscent of the very same boulder he had carried all those years. In despair, he finally looked upwards towards the heavens. As he stretched his neck back to look to the skies, he straightened his back — slowly but with confidence — as he peered at the clouds in the bright, blue beautiful sky. Suddenly, as if through a Divine hand, he straightened out as tall as he had ever stood

Surprised, but with a new set of eyes and a new perspective, the man looked across the land. He saw his home behind him, the new path in front of him and the boulder standing in his way. Upright and finally at peace with a newfound posture, the man rose from the ashes that had become his phantom burden — looking back to wave goodbye to his home before lifting the boulder with ease, pushing it far off into the brush.

Finally able to see the high-water mark of his life clearly visible in the distance, the man threw aside his cares and — standing tall in peace for the first time in years — he took his first steps towards a new life, one of perpetual joy, peace and a sense that his burden would no longer be anything but a memory.

He was renewed.

Belief and technique for modern prose...

Nothing from me, but from Jack Kerouac's own fingertips...this now sits where I can read it whenever I sit down to document life in vivid detail, with enthusiasm...

1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy

2. Submissive to everything, open, listening

3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house

4. Be in love with yr life

5. Something that you feel will find its own form

6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind

7. Blow as deep as you want to blow

8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind

9. The unspeakable visions of the individual

10. No time for poetry but exactly what is

11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest

12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you

13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition

14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time

15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog

16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye

17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself

18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea

19. Accept loss forever

20. Believe in the holy contour of life

21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind

22. Dont think of words when you stop but to see picture better

23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning

24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge

25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it

26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form

27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness

28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better

29. You're a Genius all the time

30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

The CLICKITY-CLACK of life's coaster...

Last night, I had a strange dream: Me and a faceless friend were at an amusement park, preparing to hop on the first roller coaster we saw that didn't have an excessive line. Once we found it, we started strolling through the galley like excited children. I'm sure most of you've felt that before at amusement parks, speeding through an empty line as the park nears its close so you can double or triple ride one of the attractions. Skipping around every corner, occasionally hopping over a section or two.

Once we got to the boarding station, it became apparent to me why this coaster lacked any riders — the first drop, preceded by what looked to be a limitless ascent, was beyond the clouds and into the stratosphere. In fact, you couldn't even see what the drop was. My heart jumped, as I'm scared to death of heights, but this faceless friend kept pushing me on, goading me into the last seat because "it's the fastest and you can get buggy-whipped from the speed." Before I could blink, I was sitting in the final car of an empty train watching the attendant wave goodbye as we left the station.

To make matters worse as we started the slow, clackity-clack of the ascent, my restraint didn't feel right. In fact, it wasn't restraining me from anything...CLACKITY-CLACK. I squirmed as we continued the ascent to this limitless peak, which — in my mind — held what would be the most massive inverted drop I've ever experienced...CLACKITY-CLACK. Pulling down the restraint, I could still feel myself slipping under it, and through it, with no semblance of protection from the impending climax and subsequent drop.

CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK...closer the climax came, and the more panicked I became. My stomach churned. There was no way I could stay in the car for the first drop, nonetheless the entire ride, and I couldn't find a way to get myself secure. CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK...the time of ascent — which should have take much longer to complete — neared its end. Still, no sense of security, no matter how hard I pulled or pushed or hung onto the restraints.

CLACKITY-CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...the moment arrived and my heart stopped in its tracks as I peered out over the vast expanse of the globe. The final CLACK slowed as the cars reached their final ascent. A pause, and then, knowing my restraints were of little use to me, I took one peaceful deep breath and hung on for dear life as my faceless partner patted my shoulder in support. CLACK (pause) CLACK (pause) CLACK...silence...silence stead for the slight breeze above all the Earth whistling through my ears, and all the panic within in me peaked like a acid wave before the wheels turned, and the cars began to follow the track down through the clouds into the nearly infinite drop.

But a funny thing happened on the way down: the drop never came. In fact, it was merely a short dip into a ride that more resembled a kiddy park attraction than one found at a Six Flags. Up and down, it tickled my tummy but never did we find ourselves in any real danger. The restraints, which I feared would never hold, tightened up and we rode the hilly coaster until we finally arrived safely into the station.

So invigorated from the emotional spectrum I had just experienced, I unlocked my restraints, and ran quickly to the front of the coaster, plopped down in the front seat and was ready to give it another ride, this time so I could enjoy the ascent and all the beauty it entailed that I had missed in my panicked state the first time. My excitement peaked, only to find out the ride was now closed for the night and I had to vacate the amusement park.

I can still feel the sense of panic in my gut now as I re-tell the story. Every sense was vivid in detail and every emotion unquestioned. The dream itself became symbolic of how so many of us face the coming adversity. How many times in life do we rashly hop on what looks to be an easy trail and then find out its far from easy, and reserved for only experienced climbers? We kick, scream, cry, panic in every moment leading to our climax, only to find out our fears were unfounded and the worst was merely of our own creation.

Panic is such a deceptive emotion. Salesmen use it to close business deals through the sense of urgency, teachers use to through pop quizzes, parents use it to arrive to church on time and we force it upon ourselves when we live through circumstances we are unsure about. In essence, panic is as man-made as plutonium and as pointless as gills on an flat screen TV. We burden ourselves with this emotion, blinding ourselves to the beauty of the journey around us as we travel each path.

In my own life, I have some major hurdles to conquer in the next few months. There is plenty of uncertainty ahead of me, but somewhere — like my faceless ride partner — there is Someone encouraging us to stare it head on and live without fear, despite possible failure. Why do we always fear failure? Failure is the world's greatest teaching tool. We don't learn much through victory because it easily masks the flaws within us. It's through failure that we learn to adapt and rise above the lesson to become something better, something evolved.

We are drenched in failure, whether you see it or not. As humans, we are flawed and lacking in so many ways. We kill our own, we steal from our own, and we treat others with contempt instead of like family. Our society is so lost that we'd sell our own first-born for a leg up in this world, with common decency floating out the window from our wrist like a child's complimentary carnival balloon.

To survive, we must embrace the roller coaster of life, stare it head on and NEVER forget what's most important — the view itself. If we spend the entire ascent worrying if we're going to survive the fall, we miss out on all the beauty leading up to it. Sure, the fall may be massive but sometimes — most times — it is hardly ever as bad as it seems. We make mountains out of molehills so many times in this life that we forget about the beauty of the here and now. Worse, we never get a second chance to experience because once the time passes, you can't go back and re-ride the experience. The park's closed.

Let go of the panic, the fear, that pollutes our ability to enjoy today. We're never guaranteed tomorrow and we never even get a chance to reach the peak we fear so much. Faith in something better, in God, provides us our own riding partner because there is no question in my mind that He is sitting there, riding shotgun, smiling at our own blindness. If we spend less time worrying about our restraints and more time enjoying the ascent, we can see Him gesturing to all the beautiful landmarks of life as we slowly climb the CLICKITY-CLACK of passing time.

The ascension does not allow for do-overs, and panic only blinds you to the entire scope and span of its beauty. Don't miss out. Slow down, enjoy it, and let go of the panic you've created within your own heart. Give it away, and enjoy the ride...besides, who wants to have that memory captured with a sour face when we pass the "Coaster Cam?" I sure don't, and I will give my all to enjoy this ascension as best I can before it peaks, and is gone, never to return again.

The fire within...

It's amazing how varying and diverse fire can be.

Some fire burns quickly, only to fade away into the night air while others burn white hot, maintaining its physical attributes for days, decades, centuries or even millennia. Stars burn out with immense heat for thousands of years yet a candle burns hot for merely a moment before fluttering away into a smoldering red reminder of what came and went so quickly.

Faith can be like fire in so many ways. Some people's faith burns as hot as the core of the sun, never faltering despite the cold hard elements around it. Some burns like a soaked match in the winter wind. Then there's the faith that never waivers but must always stay near a heating source to remain hot. Unfortunately, the moment it moves away from the source, it falters under the duress of a slight breeze.

I always wonder which I fall under. My biggest battle every day is to remain faithful in my walk, while staying true to what God wants me to know and learn throughout each struggle. It's almost as if I need to be in a permanent state of conflict for me to maintain my faithfulness and I wonder if I'll ever get to a point where I can simply maintain the heat within on a consistent basis as opposed to be needing to stay near the flowing lava of destruction to maintain that heat.

So quickly we forget these feelings when we're completely reliant on God. In loss, pain, heartache, fear or any of the countless emotions that require us to lean on Him, it's easy to cry out and find our peace in God's grace. But pain subsides, loss is refilled, heartache is healed and fear becomes courage once your eyes adjust to the darkness of uncertainty.

This is where many of us falter.

The good times provide a great test of our faithfulness. The minute we move away from the fire, we can either cool or maintain that heat like a walking lantern into the pitch black of the world. We move closer to comfort only to find ourselves move further from God, and as we drift, we give into actions we would never think or consider while in the midst of our struggles. Soon, fear becomes overconfidence and loss becomes an overabundance, leading us into a false sense of security.

For those who can maintain that fire, their relationship with God continues to flourish and there is a constant heat but for those of us who haven't learned to maintain that heat, we find a lukewarm existence that slowly cools. I worry about myself because it seems like God always needs to strip me bare before He can minister to me, and I'm tired of it taking so much to get through to me. It's like I live a spiritual life cursed with ADHD, floating to something else when my eyes should be on Him, first and foremost.

Many of my friends count themselves as Christians, as do I, but I can count on my two hands the amount of times we've prayed together. This doesn't seem right to me, and as someone who knows better than anyone else how faithful God is, why haven't we put God as the cornerstone of our friendships? Our friendships can never move to a deeper level unless we allow God to transform it into something deeper. You can only dig so far with a shovel before you need a drill to push past the layers buried beneath the loose dirt.

Not sure who else to blame but myself, I always look to the future for guidance but fail to recognize the need in the here and now. I should lead. I should encourage. I should minister. Do I? Not enough. It takes a momentous calamity for my eyes to reopen and my spiritual leadership to shine through, and this can't be acceptable to me because it certainly isn't in God's eyes. His provisions in life are far greater than our own eyes recognize and it's almost like we take it for granted like we do the air we breathe.

The struggle is daily. The satisfaction is minimal. The results are unacceptable. Sometimes it's best to lead by example, not through words and these past few months have been tests of that ability for me. I know better, have been taught better and should seek to capture that potential God has blessed me with. It's as if I've been waiting for a moment that may never come, procrastinating and wasting precious time God has given me. Must I wait for calamity for me to find that voice, or will I break free of this cycle and become the man God intended on the day He formed me in His own image?

Like the Greek in Plato's "Allegory of the Cave," I sit staring at the distractive dancing shadows on the wall despite this knowledge that there is more to all this, that I must break free of these chains and tell all who will hear that their bondage is merely a shadow on the wall, a distraction from the enemy to keep us from becoming the strongest parts of ourselves. Breaking free isn't easy, and it takes time to adjust to the light once outside, but the strength lies within ourselves and all we need to do is lift our heads and see the strings and puppets casting shadows in the wall.

Our potential is so great as humans, yet we accept and expect the bare minimum from ourselves. I don't know where my path is leading me, but I do know the journey takes preparation in ernest. The potential within cannot be wasted and if this frustrates me, I can't imagine how much it must pain our Creator when He sees me fail, falter and turn my eyes on something other than His own will.

Accountability comes from within, and we must all find that strength within before we can expect it from others because this is such a highly personal journey for each and every one of us. So many times I've cried out for strength only to learn it was already within me, but I failed to utilize it. God will carry us, when the need be, but we can't take it for granted as He wants us to put feet to our prayers and live on our accord, free from anything but a flourishing relationship where we are one with Him.

That fire must burn bright at all times, not faltering when the path darkens and as we fumble through the pitch black of the night sky looking for a spark. Then, and only then, will we realize we were in His arms the entire time — it was our own mouths that continued to snuff out the fire and we never even knew it.

And all it took was for us to keep this fire stoked was to close our mouths and raise our eyes to Him...

Which way your heart will go...

My best friend sent me a song a while back called, "Which Way Your Heart Will Go," by Mason Jennings. The song itself is a love song that takes the idea of fate and intertwines it into the human condition of heartache with an effortless combination of truth and soulful reality.

"Where would we be right now, if all my dreams had come true. Deep down I know somehow, I'd have never seen your face."

When we're young, idealistic, focused and ready to take on the world, we never see our future as a fleeting fancy or a faltering timeline of failures and struggle. We only see the end product, and never think for a second that the journey to get to that place can get muddled, altered, distorted, and lost along the way. Staring so intently at the stars above, we see only the station but rarely ever the train itself.

Plenty of hopeless romantics have come before me and many will come after, but it always seems so troubling that we live in an age where hopeless romanticism has become more or less a figment of a writer's overactive imagination. The idea that love will find us — fall into our lap even — is more scoffed at more than the tooth fairy. We search this earth for our kindred spirits, believing deep down that somewhere, someday, we will stumble into the life of the one true love meant for us since birth.

Naivety? I highly doubt it. I personally refuse to let this bitter world beat down my faith in something so special and rare. No matter how often my friends are convinced I'm just being overdramatic, hopeless, my heart resolves itself to continuing that search in earnest. Heartbreak is par for the course because in any thing of greatness, we have to risk pain and suffering, which makes it all the more worth our while.

Our heart breaks, it heals, it scars, but it can't lose that idealism that made it as pure as a child's. The childlike wonder inside of us — that faith — must continue on, even when the world tells us we're hopeless, lost or failures. Each one of our journeys has a different path. One path may be longer than another, one may have more pitfalls than the previous, but it all leads to another soul designed and created for you and you alone.

Giving up one's heart is a leap of faith, and requires a large amount of trust because of what's at stake. Some can be careless with it, some can be too careful and others may simply refuse to accept it. But like the matching designs of the rarest of duplicate snowflakes, the heart's center gravitates towards the core of its reason for existing. Every step on this path takes us one closer to that counterpoint.

You can ask yourself if this is the life you dreamed of when you were a child and most will reply with a negative, but this is what makes the surprise of destiny so special. Where would I be right now if all my dreams had come true? The wait only increases the appreciation for it once it's destiny is fulfilled. My heart's counterpoint may be miles away, years from uniting its existence with my own, but the search can never end.

Deep down I know somehow, I'd have never seen your face...the world would be a different place..all this is with a purpose, and that purpose is you — whoever you are.