Family Weddings

Yesterday I welcomed a new cousin to the ranks and we celebrated, as my family tends to, with boisterous  choral singing. Old Irish tunes mostly. It used to embarrass the tar out of me when I was a child. And yesterday, I felt that blood rush to my face in that first instant but it quickly passed. I looked over at my father dressed to the nines in a yellow blazer only he and few others can pull off and retain all masculinity. He had a booming smile on his face and for a few moments I just watched him. His happiness was now my happiness. And the great thing was that feeling trumped all others that related to embarrassment or discomfort.

It's not often in a day I truly take the time to be in a present moment. Or, as selfish as I can be sometimes, truly think about someone else. I managed to do both last night and take part in an Irish family tradition. Even if I can't sing.

Last day

In a weird way I will miss work. Not the monotony or bureaucracy, but the people. I'm a inch wide mile deep relationship person. So to the few: thanks for making work life tolerable.

Seekers

Every human being is a problem in search of a solution.
--Ashley Montagu

 I should remember that growth is the goal. Not perfection. Not completion. But continued growth and understanding of how magnificent this thing called life is - and how the more I learn, the less I know. 

Kind

"To speak ill of others is a dishonest way of praising ourselves." -- Will Durant

Owning your f#%@ ups

On any given day I'm likely to make dozens of f#%@ ups. Sometimes tens of dozens. Whether in my head, driving in traffic, or putting my foot in my mouth at home or work they happen almost every day. Strike that, every day. I have serious conversation killing skills sometimes, for real.

Some things stick and really irk me, which in turn causes more eff ups. Other foul ups fade away from my memory completely. There is hardly any method to my personal madness.

All this ok though because I am not perfect. Sounds easy enough to say right? And it's true. I am absolutely flawed in all kinds of ways. Not perfect. But it's a simple concept I often struggle to digest.

My friend Mark says the truly spiritual person makes fifty or more "mistakes" every single day and says "oh well. Try not to do that tomorrow."

I need to remember this. Every day my mistakes contribute to my growth and give me a glimpse into a perfect flawedness that is uniquely mine. Somehow life seems lighter knowing this.And besides, being perfect would be so effing boring.

"We are NOT human beings trying to be spiritual, but spiritual beings struggling to be human."

Just do it

Whatever you can do or dream you can do, begin it. --Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Today I will make no excuses for something I've been putting off. Today I will create something new. Today I will start.

In the morning...

On my walk to the train station at 4am this morning, I got a sneak peek of a slumbering Fargo. I saw a few cars and a street sweeper operator and I saluted one another, but for the most part the town was nascent. Stop lights blinked up yellow and red up and down empty streets and the cool morning air quickly wiped sleep from my face. In the stillness I took a moment to pray, realizing I had neglected my morning ritual for two days in a row.

From the comfort of my home and my daily routine I can easily make time for the things that matter to me. In fact, I've carved their place into my day strategically. But when I'm on the road this becomes harder to do. Out of my comfort zone I get easily distracted, easily flummoxed, before I find myself in strange, unfamiliar territory.

I am excited (so excited) to move to Grand Forks. Teresa and I spent the weekend settling in to our new home and now I'm at the Amtrak station awaiting a train that will certainly come eventually to take me back to St. Paul. Back to a place that already feels different.

But I would be lying if I didn't cop to being scared. Change, on most levels, has this affect on me. On a grander level like moving states, it is more readily seen. In these moments, these times of feeling and afraid and not knowing, I need to work on being more vigilant in how much I let myself get rattled. I reckon I'll figure that out one day - but for now, I'm just grateful to have seen the stillness of a town and a moment I would otherwise have missed.