Peripheral Vision

I was not a good running back when I played high school football. I was small, not very fast and lacked a killer instinct on the field. My little brother was an excellent running back when he played. He was short, but muscular and fast. He also had a talent that was crucial for the position. He had peripheral vision.

When he ran, he knew where he was on the field. He knew that the yardage needed for a first down was 6 yards away. He knew that he had two lead blockers, and there was a guy coming up on his left side that he needed to avoid. He had vision on the field, and I did not.

When I placed the helmet on my head I instantly felt as if I was at the bottom of a hole. I couldn’t see or hear with any clarity. When I was given the ball my brain would shut down, and I simply ran. I ran frantically and I ran straight until I was taken down… which usually very quickly.

In retrospect, I feel like I lived much of my life in a similar fashion until recently. Just run. Run straight ahead without thinking. Just run.

When I graduated high school I really didn’t have a plan for my life. I can remember visiting Texas Tech with my parents. We were in a giant assembly hall for a freshman orientation. When the group started breaking up into major classifications I didn’t really know where I needed to go. Art or computer science? It wasn’t clear to me. I felt like I was at the bottom of a hole, and wasn’t able to see or hear clearly. I didn’t have a vision for my life, so I did the easiest thing at the time by defaulting to a community college and working in a screen printing shop. I was handed the ball and I ran until I hit an obstacle. There wasn’t a plan because I lacked vision.

Drifting soon became a way of life. For years I simply did the thing that was expedient. The opportunity that was right in front of my face was the opportunity that was taken. There was not a broad purpose in mind, there were simply small steps. One by one.

I beat myself up for this lack of vision for years. I felt guilty. When my friends were graduating college I was working a dead end job at Kinkos, because I had dropped out of school. I was simply taking the step in front of me while others seemed to be following a map.

I have recently found peace about those days. When I look back, I can’t think of much that I would change. The product of those years is now a very comfortable little life. Each aimless step that I took back then actually led somewhere… and this is a good place. I really feel like I was living on massive amounts of grace and that my steps were being guided, even if I couldn’t tell.

What has changed now is that I feel like I have vision. I am seeing the steps before I get there, and this feels nice. I bet that I’d be a better running back today too… except for the extra 20 years and 20 pounds. That’s another story.

The Year of “DO”

“I should have been a great many things.” This is the response of Jo March in Little Women to a man who declares that she should have been a lawyer because of her abilities to make a strong argument. This line often echos in my mind when I think that I have just had a good idea that could be a great idea given the proper care and feeding.

There are rare moments in time when a great idea meets with the proper circumstances and something larger is born. I mostly believe that these moments of serendipity are fables. When you eventually hear the details behind the birth of something great, more often than not you hear the story of the large effort which was expended to bring an idea to the point of critical mass. It often turns out that there are many long hours of “doing” preceding the moment of “happening.” Thomas Edison’s famous quote quantifying the ratio of inspiration to perspiration comes to mind.

This brings me to a phrase which I cannot seem to shake. Not sure where this came from, but when I think about the dreams that I have for my life, the phrase, “The Year of ‘DO'” seems to stand in my mind, hanging like a large banner in front of me.

I need to be about the business of doing… active and productive. These dreams that I have carried for years will not spontaneously erupt one day. They will need to be planted and tended to with daily activity.

SO… I have enrolled in grad school. This is my long-term doing. In about 2 years I will have more options open to me in terms of career choice because I will have my masters in mass communications. This is my first act of doing for the year.

Others that must be done include: writing at least 3 songs, writing a completed short story, losing twenty pounds and laying the ground-work for Underhill Creative to thrive.

There are many things to do. Time to start doing.

What is this?

It’s been awhile since my last post. Just didn’t have it in me. I seem to have it in me now. Since the day after Christmas I’ve been riding a small wave of optimism for the new year. I don’t think I’ve felt this way in years. I certainly didn’t feel this way last year. A year ago I simply felt a vague uneasiness about life. Today I have a spark of hope, and not really about anything specific. It’s just general optimism. It’s nice.

On Tuesday I start grad school. That’s good. I have a job that I enjoy, and feel secure in keeping. That’s good. I have about four or five unfinished songs kicking around in my head. That’s good. I am actually feeling motivated to write again. That’s good.

These things together are piled into a little stack of kindling. The spark that brings this together into a potential fire is an unexpected hope that has seemingly sprung from nowhere.

As things unfold this year I will attempt to chronicle the events here.

Onward.