Someday Never Comes

I think that probably the reason I listen to this weird college station on the radio is that amidst all the random genres of music, there comes these elite moments when the music fits perfectly into my prismatic life.

so it's been like, forever, since I've posted and I'm sure you're dying to hear my laments.

I suppose what really draws us to great art and literature is simply that we discover people, real human beings, who have somehow managed to find the time and courage and sense of individuality to pull out of existence its beautiful and potently formative forms - the things we struggle to create ourselves in the 10 minutes per week we are allotted for contemplation and reflection.

I've been back on the hunting trail for meaning in life (ok, I've never left) but back again with heavier steps. what is it precisely that gives life meaning? finding wealth, a home, raising a family, ok fine. these things can be found. but finding contentment? now there's a treasure that one buys a field to find. this is what I think of when Jesus says "narrow is the way, and few there be that find it."

wringing, wringing, the drops of life

out of my bones

On Building a Family

Last weekend we met up with my family at Cook's Forest State Park. There was a lot of rain, a few hikes, mixed emotion and a couple games of "Catan". For better or for worse - these people are and forever remain my blood family. We all know we don't get to choose our relatives - and we don't even get to choose how long they'll be with us.

My wife tires of all my regretting, but maybe it's one of those grief stages I'm stuck in. Regardless, much of my rumination of late revolves around how do I make the most of my limited time? At the end of the day (when all is said and done) family remains. We grow up in one, we leave one, we create one and we grow up all over again in our new one.

Our families know us (for better or worse) all too well, it's hard to fool them for long. But they also know us well enough to be able to give us really good advice. Our memories and our past will always connect us deeply, no matter how far away we go. Our sorrows are shared sorrows, our joys, shared joys.

As we cycle through the years, as new faces emerge and others disappear, I hope for moments of connection - moments of beholding ourselves within each other and true caring. I hope our arguments and tiffs dissolve more quickly than the times we've hiked in the rain, discovered old pipelines in need of repair, taught Dad a new strategy game, played "beat the Landlord", ate salty crab and cheese salad, and got yelled at by the prickly couple walking their poodle.

I know building a family is hard work - and so much of it happens while we're not realizing it. We have to learn as we go and deal with our own stuff along the way. Camaflouged bathroom or not, I'm very thankful for this weekend with my very own family.