What’s up blog? It’s been a while... you’ve changed, I’ve changed, the world has changed, let’s get into it.
I used to write. I used to show people. I still write. I just don’t show people much anymore. I moved all my previous posts to "draft mode" in case you're looking for them. They are very much saved, and I will never delete them, they are part of me. But they are also just for me now. It's been like four years since I posted anything anyway, so... let's be honest, no one's been reading those things anyway.
Life got weird though, man. You ever drive somewhere and you don’t even remember the trip once you arrive? “Did I take the 5, or the back roads? How long did I sit at that light? Good God, was I even awake!?” That seems to be life, more often than not. "Where did I get that defense mechanism? Did this foot always hurt when I turned my head? Was my 30th birthday last year or four years ago? Good God, was I even awake!?"
That's how I feel writing this right now. Though I can recount all the details, as my memory is second to none (that's a lie, but it is pretty good), I'm not sure exactly how I got here; woke up almost 34, living in a pandemic, back in Colorado, trying to write again after so many years.
I called this blog “Redeeming in the Moment” when I started it, and people always asked me what that meant. And it was this: that I have always tended to be a little bit of an “in the moment” sort of person...some call that carefree and spontaneous, some call it careless and impulsive. Potato, potahto. But all the same, I don’t often think things through for too long. And even when I do, I often still quickly get to a point of “Just go. Make a decision. Be done with it.” That has gotten me into a lot of trouble. It has also gotten me to where I am today, and I don’t have TOO many complaints. But the idea has always been to redeem that way of thinking, both within myself (to be more thoughtful) and maybe also in others (to shift perspectives about “in the moment” living equating to recklessness). I’ve wanted to redeem that part of me, or maybe that view of me, for years.
I’m not sure I have.
But the title remains. And the goal remains. It was always meant to be an active, not a passive, thing anyway. RedeemING, not "Figured it All Out".
I subtitled it “scribbling notes in the margins of life”. Partly because my brain seems to work in notes and quick scribbles and fleeting thoughts...and then transpires into deep and long musings that fall out best onto paper. They rarely come out eloquently when I speak. I don’t say the right things. That "in the moment" thing is a real problem when you blurt something out at the wrong time and your friend cries. Whoops. But. I write. That's where I take my time and think. They just take time to form and make sense, my thoughts, that is. But they always just start as scribbles. I mean, they’re always there. My stares aren’t blank, they’re just “buffering”.
The other reason is the idea of the margins being the least explored, understood, or utilized areas of the page. And of life. Those are the areas I want to live. Both with others, and within myself. The middle is too comfortable. Too easy. Everyone knows you’re supposed to indent. Everyone knows you’re supposed to stay within the lines. But lines are boring. Lines are sometimes even dangerous. Look at our world, and how terrible it is to the people who don’t fit in the lines. I’m not saying I haven’t tried to stay comfortable and fit in sometimes. Or lots of times. But I am saying that it’s a value of mine to continuously strive to live and love and serve more in the margins than in the middles. Thus the subtitle.
And 2020 started as a year that I intended to live in those margins more, try new things, branch out, get back to my “first loves” so to speak. Be careful what you wish for though, guys. Turns out my first loves are not staying at home for three months straight and attempting to master the art of making sourdough bread. They are also not learning how to embroider (which I still can’t do, poop on that for what it’s worth...), or driving 15 minutes to the store only to realize that toilet paper is still out of stock, and my reusable bags are no longer welcome inside. Looks like I found my own toilet paper then though, thank you very much...
But alas, my attention this year certainly shifted, both practically and creatively. I’ve been on stage doing standup twice since February. TWICE! That was at LEAST my WEEKLY average for three years leading up to this one. Yes, life has certainly changed. Just not the way I thought. But. I have branched out. I have gotten back to one of my “first loves”.
Writing.
Which leads me to this (and probably many more blogs to come, so sorry in advance): if I have learned anything this last year (I think I use that phrase too much, and don’t you hate when people use that phrase?), it has been the value of being tethered. Not tied down, but tethered.
I’ve always longed for both roots and wings, and as it turns out, you almost always sacrifice the one for the other. The air and the sky and the freedom looks great looking up from the ground. How beautiful it must be to be free! To be flying high without a care in the world. To be unshackled, untamed, unbound. To see the world from that perspective. To not have a spouse, or kids, or a mortgage. To be able to throw it all in your car and drive to the coast and just stay there for a few years. To not have to check someone else’s schedule before making plans. To have all the options and all the power in decision making. To not have to answer to anyone. Freedom. It must be great.
And it is. But it can also be lonely.
Not everyone can soar, which means that doing so is ultimately cutting ties. And here’s the other thing about being free. About flying. About the “view from up there”. And that is: how much you start to miss what’s actually happening on the ground. People think freedom equals perspective. And it does! It feels incredible as you ascend, breaking ties with the norm, lifting up higher and higher, the slight drop in your stomach as you defy gravity...science...and the natural way that humans are designed to exist. And as you rise, all the shapes get smaller and smaller, and all the activity gets further and further away and starts to not make as much sense, as you pull further and further away from the world that is engaged below. And before you know it, it all seems the same looking down. It's almost, not quite, but ALMOST, reminiscent of the feeling you had looking up into the air... "I wonder what's happening there, what it's like..."
It’s certainly a different perspective, a different view. You can definitely see more. Just not in detail anymore. And the allure of where you are begins to fade; even the REALITY of where you are begins to fade. No one is sitting on airplanes (okay some people are, but not most) going “I’m 20,000 feet above the ground. 25,000. 30,000. Oh my gosh I’m 35,000 FEET ABOVE THE GROUND! THIS IS NOT NATURAL!” (I legit sat next to someone on a plane like that once, who had clearly never flown before, and let me tell ya, it was no picnic). We don’t even grasp the miracle or magnificence of it, even when we’re in it. It still becomes status quo, just like everything else. And the fact of the matter is, the higher you go, the more freedom you have, the harder it is to find ground again. Not without some serious help and advanced instruments to navigate your way back down. Because you lose stability in the clouds. You lose the ground and everything that’s happening on it. “Flying blind” is a saying for a reason.
And if I’m losing you with my airplane metaphor, I’ll bring it back (because I love flying and trips and it's just not really that accurate a metaphor anyway...). Freedom is great. Not being tied down is great. People envy that. But people are greater. Relationships are greater. And sometimes what's happening amidst all the ties and all the perceived confinements are some of the most meaningful things life has to offer. That is enviable.
So if you can’t have both, what do you do?
I hate the idea of giving up my wings, my freedom. It feels claustrophobic and kinda boring and honestly just downright terrifying. I can enjoy the ground for a while, but I get antsy. I panic. I want to run. All. The. Time. Just anything to break free, and get out, and “breathe in these abundant skies” - Switchfoot (good Lord, don’t judge me for quoting them) so that I don’t suffocate under the weight of the world.
So again, what do you do? What do I do?
Tether. With room to move around.
Dalai Lama said “give the ones you love wings to fly, roots to come back, and reasons to stay.” Thankfully that is what many people who have loved me have done for me. They "got" it, long before I did. And they have helped me tether to something meaningful so that I don’t fly so far that I can’t get back down. They’ve “grounded” me in a way that has actually given me what I have always desired: both roots and wings.
And if you ever find yourself envying the person who has it all...the spouse, the kids, the house, the good job, the retirement account, THE LIFE...just remember what you’d have to give up for that.
And if you ever find yourself envying the single comedian who travels, and plays, and stays up late, and sleeps in, and does fun things, and picks up and goes where they want, when they want, THE LIFE...just remember what you’d have to give up for that.
We can’t have it all. We will live a meaningless life if we try. But we can find what matters the most to us, and tether ourselves to that. And if we allow ourselves to keep our eyes open, wherever we are, will always come out of it with a better view.
-GK
