I made a promise to myself that I'd keep a log of my training.
However, when I really took the time to think about it, what I realized was that I didn't need to keep a log of my training at all...
Because that's the easy part, you know? If you really care... if you're any good at what you do... you already have a working log of you're progress because it's all you ever think about anyway, know what I mean?
Each week, I get an email from my coach that tells me what to do, and some people, once they get the programming, break out their notebooks or whatever it is they use to "Keep It Together," and they start going to work...
But I don't do anything like that. I just remember...
I'm at the point in my training now where I know what 80% feels like. I know what it's like to hit a heavy set of five. I know what it's like to hit a pause for 3 seconds at 50%...
I just know.
So as far as a "training log" is concerned... it's not something I worry about all that much.
But when I thought about documenting things during a long drive home from work the other day, what I realized was that it would probably be best for me to keep a log of where I'm at emotionally and spiritually and philosophically.
What I realized was that there was a lot more to this whole "Strength Sport" thing than just showing up and putting in the milage.
And after listening to a series of PodCasts, what I realized was that I needed to develop a series of healthy habits...
I'd learned that, regardless of who it was I was listening to or who it was that was being interviewed, the road to greatness, regardless of endeavor, was paved with healthy habit after healthy habit.
So maybe this is a log of health habits, spiritual or emotional or otherwise, and not really a Training Log with a Capital T.
I don't think I'll get around to updating this thing weekly, but I think hitting it monthly is definitely something I can handle (life's about tangible goals, people). As a result, what you can expect to find on here are a few training videos, a podcast recommendation and a recommended episode, and 3 songs that I listen to to help me settle into a specific headspace in an attempt to perform a certain task. You can also expect to find a few philosophical musings of what it takes to make this journey (or other ones... because writing a book and finding an agent has been just as brutal for me).
Welcome to The Road to the 2016 USAPL Nationals...
First:
I can honestly say that the time off from training has been pretty enjoyable. With that being said, most of that reason has a lot to do with the fact that it's allowed me to move away form my programming and fool around with a few benchmarks I'd been curious about for quite some time.
My "rest weeks" have resulted in a 265lb clean (10lb PR), which I completely forgot to record (so... maybe it never happened?).
After that, I remembered how much I missed Crossfitting, so I figured, why not film me hitting FRAN for the first time in 3+ years... (Wound up coming in about 15 seconds slower than my previous personal best).
Attention Keyboard Warriors and Trolls: There were definitely a few No Reps in there but... you know... I'm a powerlifter and I don't plan on going to The Games anytime soon.
Later in the week, I decided, well, why not see how many times I could bench 225. That's some sort of standard, right? (Note: The summer of 2014, I could only bench 225 for a really really ugly single...)
And recently, I decided, well, I like the idea of a 10 rep max, so why not give 275lbs a whirl in the front squat (The bar started to slide off of my delt on the last rep, but I think I know what it feels like to almost drown now...)
Ultimately, I'm excited to put all of this craziness to bed, to be honest, and I'm looking forward to my first program cycle. I should have it by Monday...
As far as PodCasts and interviews are concerned, if you don't know what London Real is, I suggest you look it up. Here's one of my favorites: Ido Portal is a hero of mine who is slowly becoming a philosophical Go-To when I need a bit of re-focusing (and if you ever want some REALLY interesting discussions about what it means to be human and what it means to move, he'll keep you entertained for hours...):
And as far as music goes, these 3 tracks make 30-40 minutes of light cardio flash by in a blink:
1 - The Story So Far - 680 South.
2 - The Wonder Years - You're Not Salinger, Get Over It.
3 - Knuckle Puck - But Why Would You Care?
I'm going to hold off on the philosophical musings for now. I've given you all enough to read.
When I first started this blog, it was something that was supposed to be updated regularly. That never happened. However, I can at least say that it was for good reason. There are some things in life that, out of necessity, need to be placed on the back-burner. This blog was one of them.
Regardless, that's not what this is about. I'm sorry. You get it. Let's move on to the meat and potatoes, shall we?
The Good:
Let's be honest. I was just happy to be there. At the end of it all, I am now officially ranked 20th in the country. Unofficially, I'm sitting at about 5th in the state of New Jersey (give or take). With that being said, we've got some really really strong people living in this state.
As for the lifts, here's a short and sweet discussion:
Squat - 407lb (185kg): This was a 27lb meet PR and a 22lb training PR. If you follow me on Facebook, you can check out that video there. I genuinely believe that I had about 10-15lbs left in the tank, so I'm excited to see how this next training cycle goes.
Bench - 258.5lb (117.5kg): This was a 10lb meet PR, but it was NOT a training PR. To put this in perspective, two weeks before the meet, I could easily bench this with a 2 second pause for a set of 3. I will discuss this a bit more in the Uglysection of the write-up.
Deadlift - 490lb (222.5kg): This was a 40lb meet PR and a 30lb training PR. I was really excited about this, especially since, through out the whole training cycle, I felt that my deadlift had been lagging.
The Total - 1155lb (525kg): This was a 75lb meet PR, and it almost didn't happen. After the squat, I'd gone into the bench feeling very confident. However, during the bench, the judging wasn't all that great (more on that in the Ugly section) and, as a result, I found myself 15lb shy of my 1155lb total goal that I'd set for myself moving into the deadlift. With that being said, I'd found myself in a conversation about next year's qualifying total. Though it hadn't been posted yet (and who knows, I could be wrong, but who cares) apparently the 2016 qualifying total for my weight class was also going to be 1155lbs. I'd opened with 450lb in the deadlift with the hopes of jumping to 465 and then 475 with 475 being my original deadlift goal. However, with this news, I figured I'd take a risk. 450 had felt pretty easy and, really, what's a 25lb jump compared to a 10lb jump when it's time to go to war? I told the woman at the desk who was taking second attempt numbers to move me to 473 and hoped for the best. When it was my turn again, I smoked it. With that in mind, I walked over to the desk and told her to move me to 490 for attempt 3. In my mind, all I could see was that scene from Rocky IV where Ivan Drago says, "If he dies, he dies." In the end, really, who cares, right? I was just happy to be there.
490 got 3 white lights, and I hit my 1155lb goal. Life is good, people.
Parking: Parking cost me $3 and I parked right across the street in the hotel parking garage.
Atmosphere: Between Crossfit and Olympic Lifting, I've competed in a bunch of events over the last few years, and I remember saying this about my first powerlifting meet I did back in May: There is nothing like the kindness and camaraderie of a bunch of powerlifters. At Nationals, everyone was cool, from the teens to the masters - everyone was happy to be there and happy everyone else was there, too. I'm a big fan of a guy named Brian Rose (Click his name to check him out). In a Ted Talk he did recently, he discussed the difference between having friends and having a tribe. I'm paraphrasing, but he said something along the lines of friends being people who love you for who you were (and that's not a bad thing). In other words, they don't want you to change. However, a tribe is a group of people who appreciate who you are and where you're going. Now, eventually, everyone becomes a friend, even the people in your tribe, but the idea of a tribe is important because with a tribe, essentially, you're collecting these people and these philosophies that help move you from where you are in life to where you want to be. They become catalysts. They become muses. They become your journeymen and journeywomen; and at Nationals, I never felt more like I was a part of something (actually, I'm lying. I feel this way when I'm with performers and songwriters... yes... I do that on the side, too. You'll hear more about it in the future). At a certain point, it's not about "feeling home." It's about NOT feeling home. It's about feeling good being AWAY from home... and I've never felt more grateful for something like that...
Here's Brian's Ted Talk:
To the people I met at Nationals and the people I've met on this wonderful journey so far - Thanks for everything. I couldn't have done this otherwise.
The Bad:
No food: For anyone who's done this sort of thing, there's nothing better than walking up to a booth and parting with a few bucks for something yummy. However, that never happened at Nationals. If you wanted food, you had to hit up the restaurant on the first floor of the hotel who had no idea what they were up against as far as patron volume was concerned. Burgers were taking hours to cook and they were struggling to find change. I thought one coach was going to tear some poor waiter's head from his torso. Needless to say, I didn't eat there.
Instead, I had to walk 2 city blocks to a small market similar to a WaWa and grab a few sandwiches. They weren't all that bad, and they weren't expensive, but who the hell wants to walk 2 city blocks to grab a cold roast beef sandwich after driving 3 hours and weighing in? If you own a food operation and you're reading this, get a booth at next year's USAPL Raw Nationals. You will make a KILLING.
No Coach or company: Luckily, I was able to meet up with friends and a few familiar faces. Moreover, because everyone was so friendly, I was able to make new friends, too. With that being said, however, had that not happened, I would have been screwed. There really wasn't anywhere to put your gear, and you were taking a risk every time you left your stuff to use the restroom.
It also sucks when you don't have a coach. People couldn't believe that I'd driven 3 hours alone to arrive and complete solo only to hop back into my car and drive back home at 9PM alone. Next time, I need to hook up with a handler and bring a bit more of a support system. The last thing you want to worry about after weigh-in is where to find hot food, where to put your stuff, and when to use the bathroom. By 8:30, I found myself wandering around the hotel lobby alone and exhausted. The only thing that really saved my sanity was that the feeling wasn't really all that foreign. A few years ago, when I'd pursued the romantic act of becoming a singer-songwriter, I'd become used to driving an hour or so alone, performing in front of people who didn't care, and then driving back home defeated and beaten. For me, the bright side was that I didn't have to worry about breaking a guitar string.
No signs. No direction. All Chaos: As I've said before - I've been in a lot of competitions. However, I have NEVER been to a more poorly run event in my life. There weren't any signs providing direction. There weren't any announcements providing updates. There weren't any monitors providing assistance. TV screens were continuously shorting out and freezing. You were 100% on your own to figure most things out yourself. If you had a handler, things wouldn't have been too bad... they'd be the ones running around like a maniac in an attempt to provide you some direction. However, when you're on your own, you're truly on your own.
The Ugly:
The Calls: Holy hell... The calls were BAD. Most of the guys on my platform had one complaint or another. The biggest ones were probably the bench calls (which is why my numbers were so low). Many of us were forced to hold the bar at the top position for 7-10 seconds, and many of us were forced to hold the bar at our chest for 2-3 seconds. It was an embarrassment to the sport. I understand the USAPL's attempt to have the highest standards in the sport. It's what makes it what it is. I can respect that. However, take a look at this video:
On what planet is that a bad lift? Hear the sound of the crowd? That happened often...
Final Comments:
There weren't enough volunteers: A week before the event, we all received emails asking us to help out and volunteer our time if we could because they felt that they were short-staffed. I didn't think much of it but, man, they were right. They could have easily used 10-15 more people floating around the event and providing information, guidance, and direction.
The venue was too small: I don't think they truly understood what would happen with having 1100 competitors on the roster. For next year, I think the increase in the qualifying total was a good decision. Hopefully, the event will become a Friday-Sunday event and not a Thursday-Sunday event. Less competitors will also mean less spectators/family members/friends wandering around the warm-up areas. They definitely underestimated consequences of the increase in crowd volume.
Overall: I'll see you guys next year. It was an amazing experience and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I think the USAPL is in uncharted territory, and they have a lot of people to thank for it, mainly the sport of Crossfit. It's getting a lot more people to press and pull a barbell, and because of it, people are crossing over to things like Weightlifting and Powerlifting, and I don't see it slowing down any time soon. With that being said, the USAPL is going to continue to become more competitive, and I'm up for the challenge. My goal for next year is to crack into the top 10 and for the following year to place. It's crazy to look at the next two years of my life in those terms - that, all of a sudden, I'm 32 in a very young man's sport. Out of the top 20 competitors in the country, only 4 of us were 30+ years of age. One guy was 47... he's definitely a hero of mine.
So here's to moving on and moving up. I will be updating this blog more often with my training and a bit of discussion on how things are moving. Hopefully it will be able to provide you with some insight and, more importantly, some entertainment and inspiration.
One last note: Check out a company that is now sponsoring me. They are called Iron Will Apparel, and they are from Southern New Jersey. Here is a link to their website. Great guys. Great idea. Great gear.
In honor of the most recent Commonwealth Games and, now, after watching my first NPGL competition, I have to come clean about something.
I am an addict.
A specialist addict.
There. I said it…
I am addicted to specialized sports and I am biased and I do not regret the amount of time I spend following them. I think they are the best sports. I think the athletes, every single one, are the greatest athletes in the world.
And here’s why…
They’re martyrs.
I know. I get it. Here comes the rant. “But nature punishes the specialist…” crows the crowd; And then out come the wolves and the swords and the citizens of every small village with nothing better to do… they will soon be at my front door, pitchforks and all.
In a world where we often turn our backs on the specialists - where an Olympic Medal doesn’t really yield much - I find myself, time and time again, watching many athletes in many other sports walk on and off the field, as poetically as I can make this sound, empty. They aren’t in pain. They aren’t sacrificing all that much (most/many are in their early/mid twenties and move from university right into the professional circuit).
But the specialists… the specialists are in pain throughout most of their performance. And if the discomfort is not immediately physical, it surely is psychological. Truth be told, my hat is tipped to any specialist, really, whether it be a weightlifter, a gymnast, or a marathoner.
And I think here is what we need to discuss when we talk about specialization. From a sport-performance perspective, I would suggest that a specialist is any athlete who competes on a playing field (platform, circle, track, runway, whatever) in which there are no external causalities, save the weather. So, to make this clear, a football player or wrestler or crossfitter is NOT a specialist simply because there are new, constantly varied demands being placed on the athlete at any given time. The athlete, as a result, must be reactive, and, because of this, they must be generalists.
Some people argue that, well, it is exactly BECAUSE of this generalization that other athletes are far more impressive than a specialist.
But I’d have to say that there is ONE thing that the specialist must suffer that the general athlete does not: The known.
A man or woman training to run the 400m, on game day, has no choice but to reflect on their weeks and months of training leading up to the race and stare into the KNOWN. KNOWING that he or she will either run a career best or not, and then realizing that this process must be repeated… every single day… until we see growth. You either see white lights, or you don’t. You either beat the clock, or you don’t. You either clear the measuring needle, or your don’t. And IF you don’t, you now have to settle into the fact that SOMETHING (and now you must reflect on MONTHS of training logs) went wrong and you must rebuild. OR, you settle into those brief minutes or, maybe, hours of glory, only to find yourself back in the same gym, doing, quite possibly performing, the same (perhaps with a few movement or load or repetition changes) tasks, and tossing yourself back out to sea - terrified of the fact that you may not find land again for quite some time. You are dodging a bullet that you know will be coming. You are attempting to re-write the future.
In the US, we often ignore the specialist. A guy like Galen Rupp will never get the respect he deserves for two pretty obvious reasons. Reason 1 - When compared to most other specialists, he doesn’t even LOOK like the kind of guy that most would want to look like. He isn’t exactly Dan Green or Robert Harting . Reason 2 - He isn’t playing a sport that garners much attention to begin with. He isn’t doing this or this or this.
Yet what we are able to LEARN from Rupp is what makes him so important.
Now, by this point, I do feel like I need to clear the air a bit. I’m sure there are people sitting behind their computers right now, infuriated. “How are those sports NOT impressive!?”
I get it. They are impressive. There’s a lot of skill involved, and I’d give my right arm to be a part of any of it. Hell, I’d even give a finger for a little bit of this (I watched all of it. Wow. Hypnotic, don’t care who you are).
But any time I see any of it, I immediately get to thinking… what if? What if Jordan decided to pursue the high jump or long jump or the hurdles? What if any of those rugby players decided to throw or run the 400m? What if those soccer players decided to pour all of their energy into the 800m or the 2 mile? What if someone like Kobe Bryant decided to Pole Vault or do the decathlon?
The most understandable response is that there’s a much better chance that they’d be poor or, at the least, middle-class working joes, just like the rest of us, if those athletes mentioned above decided to specialize.
… But they would, and this is way I am drawn to the specialist, be able to change our understanding of the human body and what it is capable of.
Because, at the end of the day, specialists are martyrs, at best. They’re human sacrifices. We hold them up and toss them over the edge as offerings to the Gods with the hope we can, some how, learn something more about the human being’s capacity for greatness. And it is in what we learn from the specialists that we then attempt to apply it to the general athlete - to the general population - to the mortals that we all are.
The best Crossfit programming, the best D1 Football strength program, all of what we know about increasing a vertical jump or speed or power, we’ve learned from the specialist. When you think about it, things like this are terrifyingly inspirational because there is NOTHING to be gained, really, from doing this for these men other than to, ultimately, get faster. And it’s frightening to think that most people won’t care. Their successes will be logged in a book and that book will be opened only a few times to be studied with the hopes of unlocking some other secret about what it is to be human.
When I look at something like this I can’t help but think that there really isn’t much new to be learned. And it’s strange to see that some of these individuals and some of these records are as old as they are. And, to keep the ball rolling, when I do think about lists like this, I think about records that are broken each and every year for events in track and field and other specialized sports like swimming and weightlifting, and how we, as a species, just keep getting faster and more agile and more powerful. The specialist paves the way for progress. The general athlete picks up the breadcrumbs.
Because you can’t figure out how to make this happen, without working to find out how this happens.
… And how a lot of this is only a result of this and this... And you can’t get there without starting from places like here (accordion, for the win) and here.
The specialist is the lab rat. The runner, the thrower, the jumper, the lifter; they are the martyrs. They are the ones who give up everything for the valiant pursuit for adaptation in ways we can only hope for (and we are, indeed, hoping, that come game day, we see progress).
I have a few things to talk about today and, again, I haven't been posting as much as I'd like, but it's the nature of the beast anymore. It's a good thing that I'm not writing as much on here, trust me.
Anywho, first things first - the passing of Robin Williams. I was bummed. Really really really bummed. Nostalgia aside, his death forced me to look at the world in a way that I didn't really want nor anticipate. We now have a responsibility, people...
My biggest fear is that there will be no one to fill his shoes. You can't kill yourself raising the dead. I get that. But you damn well better work to make sure that the world isn't worse off because of the loss. We need to make sure that we are culturally creating a climate conducive to producing more Robin Williams-like human beings. I know, it's abstract, but hear me out. We need to make sure that good movies and good writers and good artists and actors and musicians have a place to grow and learn. The guy didn't become The Genie at birth. He had to work to develop that, and we helped him. We owe it to ourselves and we owe it to him to make sure we keep culturally moving in that direction; and at the same time we need to be aware that there are some movements that are not worth supporting or, even worse, are counter productive to this positive movement. Ever hear of "Hood Pranks?" That's not comedy. It's an embarrassment to comedy. I'm not even going to link it because it sucks and I don't want to insult your intelligence. We have work to do, people.
#Dropsmic
#embarrassedofprematuremicdroppicsmicbackupagain
Onto the title of today's post...
You're in it. There's no denying that. But it could be worse.
In the wake of trying to get published, holding down a full time teaching job, coaching part time, and attempting to qualify for nationals, I found myself today working on positions filming myself over and over and over again. Here was the end result (8 sets of this complex @ 60%):
This is how some days look. I'm alone in my high school's weight room lifting in silence. To be honest, I prefer it this way. There was no music on a whaling ship. If it was good for them, it's good for me.
And in that exact line of logic, as it moved through my head as I settled back into my heels, I also, for some reason, thought of the movie The Great Escape:
Hopefully you get the idea from the trailer, but if you don't, Google it.
As I sat there, thinking about the position-work, all I could think about was the idea of, well, "How long is this going to take?". I wasn't thinking about how long the training session would take. I was thinking about how long it was going to take to qualify for nationals. Another year? Another two years? What about my book? How long until it got published? What then?
But then (and yes, I think about ALL of this on the platform... that's precisely why I train the way I do) I thought, well, how selfish? How ridiculous? Nationals? In a year? It takes some people a decade. And a book? Now? It takes some people two decades.
So then what?
It's amazing how perspectives work. Think about what it is you do every day - think about what it is you love doing. Think about the end goal. Think about how it is you plan to get there. Think about what it is you are doing right... now.
You can get there.
All of us; me, you, him, her - we're all prisoners. We're all strapped to this thing; slaves, aren't we all; biding our time.
But if you prepare and if you grind and if you hope and plan and push... eventually you're going to get a shot. Because if you're a fighter, and you fight every match, and you prepare well enough to win every match, eventually you will be offered a title shot...
And then there I am. Back on the platform. Hitting position work.
And then there I am. Back in my kitchen. Emailing publishing Agents.
And then there I am. Going to bed each night. Sifting through it all.
And then it starts over again.
Insert everything else. Insert life and work and taxes and family and friends and a mortgage and yada yada yada.
Insert The Grind.
And in the middle of all of that, think really really hard...
And plan carefully...
Because The Great Escape is just around the corner...
It's been a little too long since I've been able to post...
But I swear there's good reason...
Here's where I've been:
First, I'm happy to announce that the first draft of my manuscript is complete. If you didn't know (and many of you wouldn't because I think I've only really talked about it on Facebook) I've spent the last two years working on a sci-fi Dystopian fantasy novel. No, it's not like The Hunger Games. And no, it's not at all like Divergent. I'll keep you all posted about when I'll be releasing more info about it, but that's not really the point...
The point is that I'm finished. And the more important point is that, for a long time, I never thought it would be. What's even more amusing is, looking back, it took me about 22 months to write a little more than 60 odd pages (maybe 15,000 words at the time?) and it only took me the last 2 months to complete the damn thing (Rounding out at 46,000 words / 189 pages).
Some of the completion of the work has much to do with being a teacher and having the summer off - but I think more of it has to do with my ability to say no.
No, I can't go on this vacation with you guys.
No, I can't go to the movies tonight.
No, I can't go out drinking.
No, I can't visit you on the weekend.
... because I have to work on my novel.
Even saying that... ugh... saying "because I have to work on my novel," makes me nauseous.
What a F-ing dork.
Make no bones about it, guys - I feel like a loser whenever I have to justify my time spent away from friends and family and doing things I like doing...
But for me, it's worth it.
What's even more amusing is that I still have, probably, at the least, another year or two of working on the damn thing. I have to write query letters. I have to find publishing agents. I have to decided if it would work better as a comic (something I'm super excited about) and if so decide how and where to find the right artists to work on the project.
So that's one reason why I haven't had a chance to post here.
Another reason is that I now proudly write for these guys: Heavy Rep Gear under the name Honourable Pursuit.
When you write for free but still have to meet deadlines, it gets a bit crazy.
#1 - Spend several months finishing a novel I care deeply about while polishing my craft as an aspiring writer. Check.
#2 - Start blogging on my own and content providing for other media outlets. Check.
#3....
Right, so I've been doing something else, too...
According to RPS , at the 165lb weight class, I would have a state record back squat for the amateur division. Not bad for having a full time job, a coaching job, and a part time job. What's even more enjoyable is relishing in the fact that I'm not a power lifter (which means my bench or deadlift wouldn't be that great... but who cares?), I'm a weightlifter.
That being said, my back squat, at about 163lbs, is at 405lbs. And if I cut to 148 (which I will probably do because a month before the RPS meet I have to do a weightlifting meet at 152), then I will probably set a state record total if I diet right and maintain my strength.
Oh, and I finally PR'd my snatch...
So, *cough* #3 - Make huge lift PRs...
and now #4 - Break a State Record...
So I guess I've been busy...
But understand this - none of this happened from saying "Yes".
And most of it happened from learning when to say "No."
My dad and his buddies have this inside joke where they often look at each other and say "You think this is easy?" in this silly Robert DeNiroesq face, and for a while, I just thought all it was was a joke...
But coming from a family that was only not on welfare because of simple pride, and watching my dad work a blue collar job 60-70 hours a week growing up, I now finally truly understand.
No, I do not think it's easy. And yes, I get it.
Because now I know where I'm going - and I've never been more excited.
Why Weightlifting Is Like Writing (And Vice Versa)
When I think about weightlifting, I think about hitting positions. I think about all the parts of the pull. I think about the catch. I think about creating space off of the shoulder. I think about pulling under. I think about hip height. I think about knee position. At the same time (and what I don't think people realize) is that writing, too, is very much so about position. I could get all middle school on you and talk about an introduction, and body, and a conclusion. Or, I could kick things up a notch, maybe to your 9th grade year (or a little before or after depending on school district) and start writing "Where is your thesis?!" in red ink all over your paper... But when I think about writing, for me anyway, it makes more sense to think about hitting positions, just like weightlifting. And I'm talking about all of the positions. I'm talking about line spacing. I'm talking about how to begin a sentence. I'm talking about how to end a sentence. I'm talking about when to use rules. And I'm talking about when to break them. Even then, in that passage above, it's a decision - an active choice (even that dash was purposefully used) to be repetitive. Is there such a thing as too much of something? Of course there is - because there very much so is such a thing as too much of something in weightlifting. And the beauty about the two of these mammoth beasts (that's a metaphor for both weightlifting and writing. *fist pump*) is that there's no right way to do it; but there are plenty of wrong ways. Because we, all of us, are different in the way we move in our environment (I just started a sentence with because... BECAUSE I CAN, YO!). Some of us have longer femurs. Some of us have a bit of a pelvic tilt. Our wingspans are different. Our shoulders more developed. So we all make due and make and brake rules. Because that's what it takes for perfection. Because that's how we make magic happen. The same thing goes with writing. It's about drafting, over and over again, until you go blind or your fingers fall off or, *gasp*, both. Learn how to master a comma, and you will find power in places you didn't know existed; master a semicolon, and become a god (Didn't capitalize the G because I'm a bit of an agnostic). Learn how to use leg drive in a jerk, and, again, you will find power in places you didn't know existed; master ankle mobility and, again, become a God. (Get it!? Do you see what I did?) Okay... a demigod; and, technically, because Achilles' weakness was in his, you know, Achilles, even HE had work do to... *sigh* Lay off... this isn't easy. So think about positions when you write - and work to hit them; make them move; make them dance. Because everything, indeed, is everything. If your writing doesn't look like this:
“Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship -- be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles -- is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness." - David Foster Wallace, This is Water
So... I just got back from my trip to The Bahamas. And it was great. And I highly recommend it.
But what also I recommend you do, regarding any traveling you do, is think deeply about your journey and if you learned anything from it.
I was in the middle of reading The Great Floodgates of the Wonderworld on the plane ride home (If you're into really great non-fiction and memoirs, I highly recommend it - especially if you skate, surf, like punk rock, or find yourself approaching your 30s a bit lost) and I realized that every page of the book resonated with me in some way or another; I was completely connected. And upon closing the book and exiting our plane as we pulled into Philadelphia with that DFW quote above, for some reason or another, barreling through my head, I let out a comforting exhale thinking - oh my god...
I'm free.
I don't know what it was.
I can't put my finger on it.
Maybe it was the friendly attitude of the Bahamian people.
Maybe it was that spiritual thing that happens when you read something you completely identify with.
Maybe, after years of writing and reading and, well, everything, I've finally reached a point in my life where I'm completely comfortable -
who knows...
But all I know is that yesterday, something happened.
It all clicked.
Long story short, I bought a new car because I was thrown a deal I couldn't pass up (I am now driving a brand new car paying exponentially less than I was paying a week ago for my old car, and I now have free oil changes for life), and the reason why the deal worked out as well as it did was because I, honestly, didn't really want the car.
Salesman (who is also one of my good friends from high school): What are your needs for this car you want to buy.
Me: Wheels.
Him: Seriously?
Me: I don't need the car. I just came because I got an email.
Him *sigh* Well, I guess this should be easy and quick. Most of the time I ask people what their needs are, what they want, you know, so they can choose things they like.
Me: I don't like anything. I just want something better than I have that costs less than what I'm paying. Judging by the email, this can happen.
Him: I'll be right back.
Upper-level sales guy approaches: You make this deal, you'll be paying a lot less, but you're going to lose things that your old car had.
Me: Like what?
Sales guy: Your motorized seats.
Me: Fine.
Sales guy: Your back-up camera.
Me: It was making me lazy anyway.
Sales guy: Your moon roof.
Me: Just a hole.
Sales guy: Remote start.
Me: Forgot I had it.
Sales guy: Well this is going to be easy then.
Note: Upper level sales guy is one of my dad's buddies. And at no point in time was I trying to be sold something I didn't need. And at no point in time was this ever an aggressive exchange. If you need a Chevy, ask me where to go, because these guys are the best.
Anywho...
We were all smiling during the entire exchange, and what felt good - great even - was my lack of want; my inability to be sold.
Because all I could think about were the cars lined up and down the streets of Nassau while we were on vacation and how happy everyone was... and as I was looking at the cars on the lot, all I could think about was, "Why... Why do I need any of this?"
I know people who REFUSE to buy certain types of cars or REFUSE to purchase a specific brand of television. I know people who REFUSE to use anything but an iPhone and I know people who scoff at the idea of using one. I know people who will ONLY live in a certain community and who pray to the school district Gods for things like "School Choice." And I know people who'd bleed for a clothing brand while others would give blood just to see that brand burn to the ground...
One of my problems had always been listening to that noise; allowing myself to be sold; paying attention to all of the things that, deep down inside, I never really cared about but did simply because that's what everybody else did. I was conditioned to want... conditioned to worship.
But at the end of the day, what I realized stepping off of that plane is that I finally have the ability to choose what it is I wish to worship. I can finally say "No." And, at the other end of it, look at something I genuinely believe in and say,"Yes."
Because, much like DFW discusses in This is Water - true happiness comes from having the ability to choose how to feel (though he never was able to master it himself...).
I know that I love my family, and I know that I love writing, and I know that I love weightlifting - and I've decided to worship those things...
With all of that being said, I'm not saying that people are wrong for worshiping other things. If you love your iPhone, great. Marry it. If you love your car - awesome. If you worship a god, fine (unless you kill people in the name of it, because then you're an idiot).
But all I ask is that you take a moment to ask yourself why. you. worship.
Because I never did until recently.
Funny enough though, for me, for quite some time, the platform had been my alter all along, and, by the looks of it, books like Moby Dick had been my bible. Strangely enough, too, writing frivolously into the middle of the night had been my meditative peace... my prayer. I just didn't realize it.
The only difference between a few weeks ago and, well, now, is that I don't feel wrong or obscure for feeling connected to the things I'm connected to; I don't feel like an outcast or alone.
Because now I feel empowered by my love for them.
And now I'm excited to see how much more these things have to offer me.
Be well.
And happy worship.
The Poet and The Platform
By the way, if you write, or want to understand a writer, or wish to understand one of the best minds in the graphic novel world, here's an interview with Alan Moore worth watching about worshiping your writing:
