My Life From a Different Angle

It's pretty routine, you know.

I wake up to the alarm sound, after battling the sunlight coming in through the windows for the last hour or so; tossing and turning, begging for a rewind of time so I could be in bed earlier the prior night.  I reach for my phone on the nightstand, and swipe the screen to stop the clamoring noise from buzzing in my ears.  Slapping the keyboard, my computer wakes up from a slumber of its own.  The bright display shrinks my pupils to nothing, as I squint to see the screen.  I take to reloading pages of social networks, to find that nothing important occurred over night.  Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I roll back over, away from the computer.  My phone in hand, with the hope being that I received a sweet text message while I was asleep; nothing. 

::sigh::

I stretch my limbs until I feel the short carpet beneath my feet. 

The brain is the most powerful, yet least fully understood organ in the human body.  It is probably studied more than any other organ, but still there are questions as to how different parts work.  I suppose there are too many variables, from person to person.  It fascinates me.  When I think about how I think, how I do things, and see the differences in other people, the brain seems that much more interesting.  Some people view human behaviors based on a neurological chemically induced action.  Others may believe that people do things based on some influence that they've had at a time in their past.  Either way, I know that the brain is responsible for all actions made; good or bad, intentional or unintentional.

I gingerly crack each of the six eggs, one at a time; mixing in the exact amount of milk drops and cheese to perfect the scrambled eggs, as I pour them into a precisely buttered pan on the stove.  As I watch the mixture begin to bubble slowly, I place the ginger-lemon tea bag into a mug.  The microwave sounds just as I am transferring the cooked eggs onto a plate.  Steam hovers over the plate of eggs, and the mug of tea, as I hear Neil Everett and Stan Verrett's voices emulate from the TV. 

It really is the brain's complexity that gets me.  It is so impressively complex, that even the brain can't comprehend itself.  I think the greatest part of the mystery behind the complexity, is that it isn't man made.  Maybe that's why the brain, and its functions are so hard to understand.

Here's an excerpt from an article (Brain's Complexity 'Is Beyond Anything Imagined' by Brian Thomas, M.S.) about the brain:

The brain has for a long time been compared to man-made computers in its astounding ability to process, store, and route information. But a new imaging technique has revealed that just one brain's connections and capacities far outnumber and outpace those of all the world's computers. And this makes the question of the origin of brains that much more difficult for naturalistic explanations.

The imaging technique, called array tomography, detected light emitted by mouse nervous tissue that had been bio engineered to produce proteins that glow. Additional luminous chemicals were added, and these attached to specific areas in the mouse brains, adding more colors and allowing for the detection of much more information.

New computer software processed all the data to produce stunning three-dimensional images of never-before-seen brain cell connections. A study was published in the journal Neuron to showcase the usefulness of array tomography, but the technical paper also provided broad implications for neurobiology.

Array tomography could "resolve fine details at the level of synapses,"¹ allowing researchers to view the highest resolution of detail among nerve images yet. They could see individual synapses, the tiny connection points that link nerve cells together, as well as their different types and subtypes.

"[The researchers] found that the brain's complexity is beyond anything they'd imagined," according to an article appearing in the Health Tech section of the online news source CNET.² For instance, they found that the total number of synapses in a brain roughly equaled the number of stars in 1,500 Milky Way galaxies! And memory patterns and tiny on/off switches, which were long thought to reside in the larger neuron cell bodies, were instead found to be smaller than the tiny synapse connections. Each of the neurons imaged in the study serves thousands of synapses.

Stanford University professor and senior study author Stephen Smith said that "one synapse may contain on the order of 1,000 molecular-scale switches. A single human brain has more switches than all the computers and routers and Internet connections on Earth."² This research multiplies the brain's overall computing power far beyond what was previously known.

The more complicated a system is, the stronger it argues for having been intentionally designed. And brains certainly qualify, despite assertions that random-acting natural processes somehow assembled them. In these cases, the burden of proof lies heavily on those who insist that such systems are not in fact what they plainly appear to be: the products of intentional ingenious design.

The God of the Bible stands as the most tenable source of the specified complexity of interconnected neurons upon which human and much animal life depends. Until a naturalistic alternative can explain how a self-healing, adaptive, cosmic-sized internet of connectivity has been shrunk down to the size of a brain, then it is best to identify this hyper-tech design as being the product of a real Designer. And until an objective body of evidence can legitimately debunk the Bible's historicity and proven accuracy, then it is best to identify this Designer as the Creator and Sustainer revealed in Scripture.

I dry my hands on the towel in the kitchen, as I glance back at the counter top.  Surveying the room, I can see my steps as a shadow of myself; moving throughout the kitchen, covering nearly every square inch, while prepping, cooking, eating, and cleaning up after my meal.  A sigh of relief, and a smile brush over my face; I am ready for the day.

How to Lose Your Life Pt. 2 (My Rock)

While I was working at Best Buddies, I became good friends with this guy JR.  He once told me that I am an introspective millennial.  It was explained to me that the newer generation (the "millennial") was very introspective in their way of life.  He said that I am someone who is more inclined to reflect on the decisions that I made, rather than accept my past for what it is, and move on.  I have to admit, he has a point.  My tendency is to delve into an event or occurrence, analyze why/how it happened, and come up with a solution.  I don't know if I always come up with a definitively concrete conclusion of how to solve the issue, or if I am just using some sort of excuse as a justification for why the event may have taken place.  Either way, it is my solution in an attempt to allow my heart and mind to be at rest.

I have also been told by many friends, and [unfortunately] ex girlfriends, that I tend to overanalyze every situation that I am in.  That was correct!  I have been able to tone it down a little bit.  I can safely call it more of a subtle observation, rather than the dramatically defined term, 'overanalyze'.  But how can you blame me?  If I am an introspective millennial...!!  That would simply be a justification for my actions.  I am far too smart to believe, even myself for a minute, saying that!  One thing that I do know, is that it is my past, that has led me to be so analytical, and introspective.  I suppose the thought is that I have been trying my best to ensure that I would not fail, in order to please others in my life.

Mainly my father.  I could always hear his voice in my head, as I was growing up.  He instilled taking care of business, before play.  That model makes sense, but it has rattled my senses a bit.  And now that I am older, and have a much greater understanding of life in a broader sense, I am able to see the flaws in that theory.  First and foremost, every single human being is wired differently.  That being said, it is easy to deduce that something that may work for one person may not work for another person.  Yes, I enjoy working.  Yes, I enjoy being successful in what I pursue.  But no, I do not want to be what my father is.  He has had such great success in his career, but it has come with a cost.  In becoming successful, he has sacrificed his relationship with individuals in his family.  It isn't necessary to get into the comparing and contrasting of his successes and failures.  I simply want to note that I do not desire to be like my father.

I mean, I am not my father anyway!  I was born my own self, with my own name, and my own future.  Not to mention, being that he and my mother weren't together for too much longer after I was born, I wouldn't have his constant influence.  All of these factors lead one to believe that I would never fall into the trap that is the shadow of my father's steps, but I fell for it nonetheless.

All the time I was growing up, I believed that I was living my own life.  Lately, I have come to realize that I had really been living my life for my father.  I desired for him to be so happy, that I sacrificed my own wants, for his.  On the surface it wouldn't seem like much, but internally, it is far too evident for me to be satisfied with it.  I took tests in school, with the hopes that I would be successful, to make him happy with me.  I went to FSU, because that was what he suggested.  I was reminded as I lifted weights, that I had my father's build.  Daily, my father and I would talk sports, and ESPN became my 24 hour TV source.  When we weren't talking about sports, it was about women and sex, and now I have a misconstrued concept of sex [and an STD].  When I look at my life, I see bits and pieces of him, in what I have become.  I have also become aware that in the past couple of years (college [or reflective] years), I speak less with my father.  Why?  Because he and I have less to talk about.  I became expressive about my faith, and he still doesn't take the time to understand my thoughts and feelings.  I got a tattoo, which he told me was not the smartest thing I could do.  I transfered home from FSU, when he told me that I was stupid for doing so.  I lost my desire for continual sexual contact with people whom I cared less about, something he still doesn't get.  I now lift weights for myself, to forget about life for a while.  I rarely watch sports, but now have a deeper connection with the sports industry from a business aspect.  I have changed.

What changed me?

I could say that being introspective allowed me to reach deep within myself, to pull out the real me, but that is far too cliche.  What I can say, is that I have changed as a human being.  I grew up.  The 2012 "Mission Matt" was a justification.  It was a way for me to get past all of the negative things that occurred in my life, in a short period of time, to start 2012 off on the wrong foot.  I simply needed some time to figure out some things in life.

Everybody has their struggles in life, but the thing that I hope to instill in every life that I can influence is this: "you are yourself; nobody has your name, your face, your soul, and your future.  Live life as life should be for you.  Do not live in the shadow of others, but enjoy their company as friends and family."

P.s.  this also helps me to keep my head up: Psalm 18.

How to Lose Your Life Pt. 1 (Retribution)

I am done.  I have been discounted.  I am no longer worth anything.

All because one day I decided to speak how I feel, I have become a target.  You know, nearly 18 years ago, my father got remarried.  At the time, I was a five year old boy.  I was just beginning my life.  According to developmental psychologists, I was just beginning to encode observations and experiences into memories.  According to my pediatrician, I was growing as planned.  According to my teachers in school, I was smart.  I would love to speak to a psychologist now.  I would love to go see a doctor now.  I would love to talk to some teachers.  Tell me how I am now.  Evaluate me some 18 years later, and tell me how I have turned out.  I currently sit here with a degree, no job, no girlfriend, and no definitive plan for the future. It's all up in the air.

Saturday, December 29th we went out to dinner, as a family.  I had a job.  Some random girl had been texting me, trying to be in a relationship (which I was obviously not having, for obvious reasons).  I felt strongly about my future.  Then, as I glanced over the menu, I became distraught.  See, I found something that I thought sounded scrumptious.  The issue is that the meal that I wanted was a couple of dollars more expensive than the other desired meals.  This isn't a problem for me, had I been paying for myself, but as history shows, there has been a tendency for Mom to comment on the person who order the most expensive meal.  Sharing this information with both Liv and Michael at the table turned into a much bigger deal than expected.  I had roughly six talks with Daddy over the course of a month, I was given a month to move out, and I had to quit my job.  It wasn't looking too good for me, and it was taking a toll on me mentally.

Daily, I was being ignored by Mom, then the girls joined in, and even conversations with Daddy had become sparse and awkward.  I tried to search for an answer.  A reason for all of this.  I suppose I could say that I still haven't found a real reason for all of the actions taken against me.  What I do know, is that this isn't the first time that Mom had decided to make a big deal out of something that I have done.  I recall several times in the past, when a family vacation was being planned and I somehow "got in trouble" before the trip, and was forced to stay home.  It never made sense to me at the time, but now it has all come together.  The times when I thought that Daddy and I were having a good conversation or building a good relationship has become falsified.  It's not that I believe that he wasn't sincere in his efforts, but as he has proved in the past few months, his "family" holds a much greater importance to him, than his relationship with me or Michael.

I apologize for the sloppiness in which I have written this blog post.  I have told this story for what feels like a million times over, and it is getting old to me.  I wish things could be different in my life, but one might sarcastically respond to that by saying, "since when?"  I guess I am just trying to figure out where I belong in my own life.  Or maybe it's called growing up.

I have just begun.

Trepidation

I was in early elementary school, when my teacher asked me to draw a picture of what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I don't recall what I drew that day in class, but I am sure that it was some sort of imaginative idea of what I wanted to be when I "grew up".  Children, at a young age, generally choose interesting professions, such as astronauts, animal trainers, professional athletes, etc.  As they get older, the answers become a little bit more grounded and reasonable; doctors, lawyers, teachers.  I am sure that this question could be asked to people, every five years (or so) and continuously get different answers.  See, the question is too general, and very subject to the situation someone is in.  As an elementary school student, we are influenced by what we see on TV, hear on the radio, or what our parents tell us.  As we age, we tend to expand our knowledge, based on different things that we experience, and our answer to what we want to be changes.  What about different questions: How do you want to live your life?  What situation do you want to be in?  What interests do you find fascinating, and would like to pursue?  Questions that a child's mind isn't expansive enough to answer.

I suppose someone is meant to know the answers to those questions, at some point in their life.  I don't think that is necessarily true though.  I sort of struggle with the idea of knowing exactly how I want my life to be.  Granted, I am only about a week shy of my completing my 23rd year, but I like to think that I would have a better grasp on the concept of my own life, after roughly a third of it has gone by.  Needless to say, I don't.  I have been overcome by an overwhelming feeling of my true self.  I fail to have the ability to focus on some things that are right in front of my face.  I assume that this is another one of those "steps to maturity", but I lack the feeling of satisfaction with this one.  Maybe I should just "wait it out".  But I seem to lose hope in myself, amid the time of the waiting game.  I guess it has been innately established, within me, to constantly try to problem solve.  It has its positives, but right now, it isn't working.

I think about the future, sometimes.  I think about how great it could be.  I imagine all of the opportunities I could have; all of the excitement; all of the adventure.  I can say that I have noticed a change in myself.  Even as recent as within this past year, I have been able to radically alter the way of my thinking.  I remember when I was in college, my father had brought up the idea of studying abroad.  I knew people who did it, and heard their incredible stories, but I still felt so unsure of it.  My obsessive compulsion would take over, and I would find something wrong with the idea of leaving the country.  "I don't think it's right for me", I'd say, dismissively.

Miami is a fine city.  It is the second largest city, in fact, in Florida, by population size.  It is almost as much of a melting pot of ethnic backgrounds, as New York City is (just by mere observation).  Which, I must say, actually fascinates me.  From a distance, so I've learned.  Periodically visiting well known sites and places adds excitement, upon arrival.  Once someone actually lives in that place for a certain period of time, it becomes dulled.  Especially when bad experiences occur in new places, the location is immediately associated with some sort of negativity.

The noise of a new message on Skype interrupts my train of thought.  A friend from work tells me that she has a secret.  I promise her I won't tell, and she arrives at the opening to my office, about as fast as she pressed the enter key.  She passes on her secret to me, via whisper, that she is going to move to Australia in April, to go to school, and to just simply get away.

I am overcome with envy.

I know. I know.  The Bible speaks that one should not be envious.  I know that it is morally wrong to desire the things that others have, simply because you don't have them or can't obtain them.  And maybe this is me dramatically stating that I have had many thoughts about leaving.  Not just this job, this city, this state, but this country.  And not only would I love to travel, and visit different places (until they become dulled, of course), but I would love to actually live in another country.

I feel like what has been stupidly named Mission Matt 2012, actually held true.  In trying to find myself, and going through a lot of different things in this past year, I have finally come around.  It took long enough (almost 23 years to be exact), and I haven't lost much (except some of my hairline)!  All kidding aside, what was assumed to be a relaxed last five weeks of 2012, turned into much more.  Instead, I found that I was more open to different things, more willing to be laid back and to see how things played out...responsibly.

As I watch the cursor click, I proceed to write with trepidation.

I am ready to plan a move to Australia, in 2014.

Angst

I talk to myself.

It is hard to admit sometimes.  Even to myself.

I remember when I was younger, my parents would catch me.  It was always questioned, in such a harsh way. "What are you, talking to yourself!?"  It was so embarrassing for me.  Admitting to them that I was talking to myself left me ashamed.  As I got older, the conversations that I had with myself increased, and weren't just limited to the self-ranting, after being reprimanded.  My siblings caught me, my friends caught me, random people on the street caught me...

I probably looked like a crazy person to them [or to everyone].

Truth be told, I still talk to myself.  Maybe it has become an obsession.  I suppose it is my go to option.  I don't have to dial a number, use minutes, look at anyone, feel awkward admitting something to someone, or worry that they won't pick up/care about what I have to say/even want to hear from me.  It's not that I don't have people to talk to...it's just easier.

With deeper, more intellectual thoughts [or topics], I can call on a family member, or a trusty friend.  But when it is a more personal, abstract thought, I prefer consulting Matt.  He knows me better than I know myself, and is never afraid to send an honest rebuttal my way.  As crazy as all that sounds, I decided to Google it, to see what the public says.

After searching for "Is talking to yourself a bad thing?", I came to the conclusion that it is not.  Many of the posts [and studies] show that it is good for someone to talk to themselves, in order to pick the brain, and order/organize thoughts appropriately.  Don't believe me?  Check it out for yourself.  The results are not necessarily enlightening, but definitely much of a relief.

Relief as it is, I couldn't simply stop there.

I have noticed recently, around people I don't know, my inability to hold relative focus and attention in a common conversation.  No, I am not going to blame some attention disorder for this.  Rather, I am going to blame myself, and associate it with my gravitation towards self consultation.  Talking to myself doesn't require face-to-face conversation, confrontation, or any sort of visual stimulation (as a matter of fact, I highly dislike talking in the mirror).  Before I continue, I must note that I am not socially inept, nor unable to have a conversation.  I just believe that I have become more susceptible to losing interest in communicating with someone face-to-face.  Actually, I would admit that relative communication has become a poor suit for me lately.  I don't have much interest in making time to direct my attention towards someone for large amounts of time.  Alright, now do I sound crazy?

Yes, in fact, I think it is healthy.  I am on Mission Matt 2012.  As the year is coming to a close, it is only natural for me to reflect on what has been going on in my life, including a more recent update on day to day Matt.

I guess it is time for me to admit that I looked up symptoms of anxiety.  Among the 100 or so list of symptoms, one stood out to me.  It read, at the bottom of the page [as the last symptom], being alone.  Maybe my inclination to talk to myself is a result of being alone.  And maybe, just maybe, I am anxious because of it?

I prefer the term angst.  It has a strange ring to it.  And as I repeat it to myself [out loud, mind you], I am reminded of how perfectly strange talking to myself fits in with my life.

Neale Walsch

I never liked this time of year.  The snow birds have migrated south.  Students are home from college, forming reunions.  Holiday decorations are starting to litter the homes in the neighborhood.  Fellow co-workers planning their holiday vacations.  Planned arrangements.  Holiday cheer floods the faces of people walking the streets.  Did I mention how much I dislike this time of year!?

I really don't know what it is.  It's not that I dislike seeing people happy.  It's not that I dislike seeing old friends.  Maybe I have just outgrown the holiday spirit.  Is that even possible!?  When I was a child, I remember when October came.  It was great!  Planning for what my Halloween costume would be, became an annual tradition.  Once Halloween passed, and the decorations were being taken down, talks of how Thanksgiving would go, immediately followed.   Once all of the leftover turkey sandwiches had been digested, the planned night to pick a Christmas tree was always quickly upon  us.  We'd venture out into the night, after a long day of school [and after school activities], to a lot filled with trees.  People would be walking around, looking for the perfect tree, with a big smile on their faces (frequently, even with a Santa hat on).  Within the next week or so, the tree would be decorated, plans for Christmas would have been set, and holiday shopping had begun!  As an aside, I will always recommend that this time of one's life is desired, absorbed, and cherished (although, as I grew up, everything I did was supposed to be "cherished" [am I now that old man, attempting to speak advice?]).  Christmas barely passed, before the new year was upon us, and then it was the countdown to my January 22nd birthday.  Not to mention, amid all of this, there was a cool crisp feel in the air (no, I am not going to get scientific "global warming" in this post).

I guess it is safe to say that I may have outgrown the tradition that we used to have.  My brother went away to college.  I eventually followed him.  And now, he is still away, and I have moved away as well, for work.  Everyone is getting older, and going their separate ways.  I think it is more than that though.  I know that we are all only a travel away (me a short drive, and my brother - a short flight), but I think that there is more to it.  The feeling of the holidays, the holiday spirit, and the celebration of the holidays is still possible regardless of a new location.  As people get older, and move away, they make their own holiday traditions.  They may not always agree with Mom's classic holiday tradition, but they are filled with their own holiday cheer.

I learned that this past week.

I suppose the culture of my new job has had its affect on me.  I was given a couple days off from work (the Friday after Thanksgiving and this past Monday as well).  Upon receiving the news of a couple days off, I immediately saw an opportunity of rest and relaxation.  Instead, the complete opposite occurred.  Going into last week, I had only made concrete plans with my friend that came in town, Austin (who I met when I was at FSU).  I had planned to enjoy a Thanksgiving meal at his house [with his family], and entertained the idea of seeing him when he was free (which is always entertained when he is down, but has a tendency to never occur).  This time was different, however.

I called Austin on Wednesday, to confirm the time for Thursday.  When we spoke, he mentioned that his father's boss had invited him on his boat [and told him that he could bring a friend].  Austin's other friend was busy on Friday, and couldn't go on the boat.  So I was the one he invited to go fishing.  Mind you, I have always been susceptible to motion sickness.  When I was a child, I used to get sick on a boat in the inter coastal!!  I used to also get sick on long car rides (as short of a distance as an hour).  I also never liked to be spun [as most kids do] because my dizziness would make me sick.  Regardless of my past experiences, I committed to going fishing on Friday.  He notified me that we would have to be on the boat at 7:15 am...AM!!!  So, I reluctantly took him up on his offer, packed a bag, and spent the night on Thursday.  Why do I state that it was reluctantly?  Well, this would note the first time I have ever slept at a friend's house [in my conscious memory].  I know that it sounds weird, but I never liked the idea of a sleepover (it always gave me a weird image and feeling).

I took one Dramamine in the morning, with breakfast, and we were off.  On the way out to the ocean, riding the waves, I got nervous.  My mind flowed back and forth on the possibility of getting sick.  I had thought I chased the thoughts away, until we were out in the middle of the ocean [off the coast of Palm Beach].  The minute we slowed down enough to cast our lines, we hooked four dolphin (even though we only got two in the boat).  The action of reeling in a fish was fine, even with the rocking of the boat, but the sound of a fellow crew member throwing up brought back horrible memories.  I had to turn away, bringing my attention to the trusty horizon (that is always told to look at, to avoid getting sick).  The cool breeze coming out of the south, rushed the boat, and my thoughts went away with it.  Unfortunately, we didn't catch anything significant after that (we had to cut both lines), and returned home.  On the way back, I realized what I had just done, and I felt a sigh of relief come over me.  I decided to label the day as an adventure, and stepping out of the box.

But wait, there's more!

Once we got back to Austin's house, I had received a text from my friend Dom.  He said that he was going to be hanging out with some of our mutual friends, and that I should come over when I can.  This is an odd occurrence as well.  You see, Dom and I became close friends over the summer, but more recently, he has gotten me angry.  On multiple occasions, he has broken plans that he had with me, to spend time with his girlfriend.  This is not a first time offense, so I cut him off for a month (didn't pick up his calls, respond to his texts, etc.).  It was odd to hear from him, but since the day had been going the way it was, I decided to roll with it.  I got to his house, and was told that I had to shower, because we were going to go to a party later that night.  So, I showered, and debated the idea of going to a party of a bunch of people from Fort Lauderdale, and then, having to drive all the way back home to Miami Beach, only to come back to Fort Lauderdale to work in the morning.  Dom told me that I was thinking illogically, and that I should just sleep over.  Again, I hesitantly agreed, borrowed some of his clothes, and made myself at home.  We eventually left his house, and proceeded to go to a couple of our friend's places, ending up at the house party that we were told to go to.  While we were there, I felt like I was trapped.  I didn't know many people there, and I was probably the only one not drinking or smoking (as my personal preference).  I eventually branched out, talked to some people, and had a great time.  Which reminded me of the old me.  I don't mean to get all nostalgic, but being there brought back great memories from years past.  Not that I would change who I am today, but it was good to have that momentary feeling again.

I woke up on Saturday morning, and went to work.  While I was at work, the lightly addressed idea of a group of friends meeting up to watch the UF-FSU rivalry football game was being put to action.  So, I got off work, and found myself meeting Austin at my mother's house, and riding over to Bokamper's (a local sports bar).  When we arrived, Adam was already there getting a table.  Soon after being seated, Mark showed up.  Marvel joined us later, and the crew was formed.  It was a good time.  After the memories, and the nostalgic wishes subsided, we were cheering, booing, and talking trash to each other.  While I was there, I got a call from Dom.  No, I wasn't going to stay out for a third night in a row, but I was asked to go to the Miami Dolphins game on Sunday (I had only been to one before, and I didn't have such a good time when I went).  I warily accepted his offer.

Sunday morning, soon after breakfast, I was off to Fort Lauderdale again.  Back at Dom's house, he got in the car, and we left to the game (I am unsure how he pulled it off, nor do I want to know, but Dom got mid field row 8 seats with a free parking pass).  The game was exciting, as we were practically on the field!!  While we were there, I met Dom's "Aunt".  This is only significant because I made the networking connection, and we set something up for her to help with Best Buddies.  I guess saying that everything happens for a reason fits well in this circumstance.

When I got back home late Sunday night (because I was coaxed yet again on Sunday evening, and went to dinner with Dom and his family), I was kind of stunned.  I felt like I had lived through a real-life experienced Hangover movie, minus any injuries, marriages or pregnancies.

The whole idea that I made it through those couple of days, without a set eating schedule, a set workout schedule, and a set sleeping routine, was...enlightening.  It sounds lame, but I learned a lot about myself during that time period, and I realized something important about life.

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone." -Neale Walsch

It's Interesting

...how things work out.

With the variety of things that have occurred in my life, over the course of this entire year, I suppose that I should have anticipated a blog post of this nature.  The irony of occurrences, being deemed a manner of coincidence, has become a common theme for me.

Allow me to explain.  I believe everything that occurs, happens for its own [intended] purpose. 

And here I sit, at a desk, a year after I had thought about it.  When I was about to go into my senior year of college, the topic of a career after school seemed unavoidable.  Coming at me from all angles, like lasers in a competitive game of laser tag, I couldn't seem to shake the family members, classmates, friends, etc.  There wasn't really an opportunity for me anywhere, at that point.  I was just mulling over the angle I could take, to cover up the questions.  People seemed to quickly forget that I actually had an ENTIRE year left of school.  Nonetheless, I entertained the voice in my head, and proceeded to assume that Best Buddies would provide as a great opportunity, and a way for me to connect with people.  As the year progressed, I became more involved with school, my part time job, and various endeavours (both great, and horrible).  The idea of my "career" faded into the darkness.

As 2012 began, a lot of distractions became present in my life.  This led me far away from the idea that Best Buddies would work, and that I should instead pursue a career in the corporate world.  I have to confess that I had been very intimidated by the corporate world.  It seemed like some George Lucas esque place, in a land far, far away.  Regardless of my feelings, I went along for the ride, on a journey of what-ifs.  Applying to random jobs, in random cities would be a common theme for me, in the next couple of months.  Then, it was followed by a lot of hand sitting (because I was unsure if the corporate world even made sense for someone like me).  As the summer of 2012 ended (which I must say, wasn't a great summer to remember), I went to California with my father, for a Best Buddies ride event (which was not a set up either; I was simply along for the ride [no pun intended]).  While I was there, I was surrounded by this great organization, that I had been part of, for the entirety of my life.  Upon reflection of my time at the event, I was compelled to email the chairman of Best Buddies (who is a family friend), as well as some of the other main workers for the event, to tell them how great of an event I thought it was.  I got a great response back.  Low and behold, I became a topic of conversation, to be a future employee.  I was offered, in the meantime, to travel and volunteer for the Washington, D.C. event, in October.  That turned out to be a long, but great weekend.  I was now involved in the discussions, as a full time rides coach, for the event that they were planning on bringing to Miami in the future.  Along with that, the playful Best Buddies Challenge ride team honored me with the new nickname of "Pledge" (as though Best Buddies was a fraternal organization).  I embraced it all, and began to work towards starting at Best Buddies.  After about a month of time, I am here, in the Best Buddies International Headquarters Office, in Miami.  The Irony of it all, the pushing of myself away from the great opportunity that was thought up, only to fall back into the welcoming [and overly joyous] hands of this organization.  I was shown a couple of things along the way.  It has now become evident that I shouldn't allow myself to run away from things.  It is also now known to me, that life isn't as complicated as we make it.  When our minds run astray, and on to the imaginary [large] thoughts and ideas, it can be destructive. 

...and in the end, I find myself at the beginning of it all.