Always Love

Today is Valentine's Day. I could write a cliche rant that you've probably heard a million times over. In fact, part of me really, really wants to.

But I won't. I honestly don't dislike it enough to write about it. In some weird way, I almost want to write about what the day is supposed to embody, or what I feel it should embody. But again, I won't.

Instead, I'd rather share a story.

It's no secret that I love Winter, and all seasons actually. So, when faced with inches of snow like we had in Northeast PA yesterday, I got semi-excited. Everything being covered in snow can look quite beautiful, like being in a real-life snow globe, and I don't mind shoveling. I usually find it invigorating.

After about an hour of shoveling, the euphoria of how awesome physical work sometimes feels was wearing off and my mind began to wander. I started thinking about situations in the past that haven't gone as I had hoped, financial concerns, other silly little annoyances, and suddenly the splendor of the snow globe I had been enveloped in was replaced by a gray slushy hell. The snow wasn't moving as easily. I began forcing it onto my shovel. I wasn't focusing, and so I was dropping some of it back on the sidewalk, making a mess and more work and more frustration for myself. I was not loving it.

I had to stop myself, take a deep breath and relax for just a minute. I calmed down. I wasn't angry at the snow. So why treat it like that? And suddenly it got a little easier. A few minutes later, a strange and wonderful thing happened. My neighbor came over to help, and brought along with him some home-brewed beer. While we shoveled, we talked. About pretty much everything. And then everything was wonderful again. I was loving it.

This, in a microcosm, is what happens all too often, at least in my recent experience: being focused on other things seemingly more important than the present moment and not appreciating it for what it is: a gift (hey, that's the title of this blog, don'tchaknow). I'm still working on that.

Sometimes everything feels right, and it's easy to love and find love in that euphoria. And sometimes everything just sucks and I want to stab kittens with lightning bolts (not literally, of course) and it's really difficult to love the situation I'm in. And sometimes when everything is super awesome, I want to share how I feel with everyone and it's great because I'm actually fun to be around. And sometimes I just want to tell everyone to fuck off. That would be tough love, I guess. Anyway...

Just to be clear, I'm not issuing a challenge or trying to argue a point here. I just needed to vent a little. And love the act of venting. And remind myself to love everything, even in frustrating times. Love all experiences. Love just being here. Believe that everything is awesome. It's easier said than done, and admittedly I fail at times, but it honestly just feels better to try to appreciate everything - from the simplest thing as a breath of air - all the time, not just because of a "special" day. Love breeds love. As one songwriter quipped, "Always love, even when you want to fight."

Happy Valentine's Day.

Stories From the Road: Money Can't Buy Passion

I guess this is technically a story from "home," because it didn't happen on my grandest road trip, but Philadelphia is about 60 miles from where I live, so...

I've wanted to take a day trip to Philly since I've been back east for the simple pleasures of just being in the city I love so much and of course, to see my beloved Flyers. Last Thursday happened to be the day.

I was able to score some pretty decent seats at a (relatively) affordable price, which was awesome, but in the past, I've been more than happy to get the cheap seats and sit among the "common folk." In hindsight, I don't regret doing this, but I'll think twice next time. Why?

Throughout the game, I found myself bridling my passion and enthusiasm because, well, it just wasn't resonating with most of the people around me. Granted, it was dollar pretzel night, so most of them were busy stuffing their faces, but the chatter that I did hear was not exactly inspiring on any level, at least to me. Behind me, three older gentlemen dressed in North Face-like half-zip sweaters were discussing their law firm's most recent merger. In front of me, two couples in brand new jerseys that looked like they were purchased minutes earlier were discussing selling their houses to buy bigger, better places. Listening to conversations like these? Not my idea of fun.

Finally, I just stopped caring and got loud. And borderline obnoxious. At least I managed to keep it PG. I noticed there were two guys doing the same thing several rows in front of me and one section over. I pointed them out with a sort of "I got you" gesture. We started to lead chants. We tried to get everyone excited. This continued through the third period with little success, when the Flyers came from behind and tied the game with just over a minute remaining. Finally everyone was psyched!

So, five seconds later, when everyone else sat down and the three of us were still standing, we met in the aisle, with an "us against the world" mentality for no reason whatsoever. Best friends for maybe a minute:

   

We then went back to our seats and carried on as we had been, and the Flyers ended up losing the game in a shootout, but it was fun, and I got my money's worth...

How do You Measure a Year?

Yea, I stole the title from that song from the musical "Rent." I just saw a TurboTax commercial claiming that taxes are the story of your year. Clever idea, but tell me, where will any of these fit in on a tax form? Scroll:

The answer? They won't. This isn't anywhere near every picture I took this year, and even pictures can't tell the whole story. The only person who knows the true story of my year and the only person who ever will know everything I've experienced is me, and those experiences, as I've said before, can't be measured by dollars and cents or written down in any way. I'm so thankful to have had them all, and I look forward to more.

I could go on a rant about taxes the likes you've probably heard thousands of times from other people, but basically, DON'T TRY TO GET ME EXCITED ABOUT FILLING OUT TAX FORMS!

I probably paid enough in National Parks admittance fees this year to cover myself.