I literally tried to count my blessings, and it's just not possible. I understand now what it means to lead a blessed life.
It's not something I've always known; I used to take for granted this fact. And it's not something I woke up one morning with the epiphany of. It's something I've learned, come to realize, over recent years, with certain events bringing it more and more to light.
I won't deny that I've felt that naive, immature feeling that life has slighted me in some ways. There have been times when I've felt like I deserved something that I'd been cheated out of, or that I'd missed opportunities that I should have been handed more easily. But if I've learned anything over my 26 years, it's that life is what you make of it, and that you should always remember the positives.
My parents are largely to thank for how wonderful my life is. I would guess that at least 90% of the positive in my life is due to what they have bestowed upon me, either directly or tangentially. Be it experiences they have given me, or doors they've opened for me through their own hard work and advice, or even just the characteristics I've inherited from their teachings and genetics, they have made it possible for me to lead a fulfilling life.
Not that my life is always a walk in the park. I've had plenty of stressful times, and moments where I've felt so overwhelmed I didn't know how I could move on. But I've always sprung back, and I thank my parents for helping me be the kind of person who doesn't let the bullshit keep them down.
I'm blessed by the other people I've met and known as well. Even the relationships that were not good helped me become who I am today. I am grateful to have some of the most fantastic people in the world as my friends. Through good times and bad, fun and worry, they have been there, and knowing that you have such a support system does such wonderful things for your mental well-being. Though time and distance may separate us, there are so many people whom I care deeply for, and I know the feeling is reciprocated.
And all of the amazing things I have seen! Phenomena both natural and man-made... sights, sounds, smells, tastes, feelings that words can never hope to convey. Things that every being should be able to experience, at least in some small way.
That is what I hope to accomplish. This world, and our lives, are such miracles. I want for everyone to appreciate just how spectacular life is, even in the lowest of lows and the hardest of times. Each of us has some magic in our lives, some beauty. I beseech every one of you to look at what you have, really look at what you've seen and done, what you have, and see the wonder of it. We all share in our hurts, but we all share in our blessings. Remember those blessings always.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Butt-Buster Booger Hill
This winter being such a snowy one, a tale of woe and tragedy from my childhood has been coming to mind quite frequently... My father is going to be endlessly surprised and tickled by the fact that I've chosen to share this, but I feel I must get this story out, so that future generations may benefit from my distress.
I have no idea how old I was when these terrible events transpired. I must have been no more than eight. I would hope so, anyway; you'll understand as you read on.
We had just gotten a good little snowstorm, and my family was heading out for a day of sledding. With blue plastic toboggans and Thermos of hot chocolate in tow, we headed out to the Assunpink Wildlife Management Area, where dwells a fantastic hill. My little sister and I vibrated with ill-contained glee and excitement.
Now, before I continue, I need to impress upon you, my precious readers, just what this hill entails. It is steep. I mean epic steep. In snow, most cars cannot climb the road up it. It is also heavily wooded in parts. A stream lies at the bottom of it. And as I discovered, above all, it is a fickle mistress.
When we arrived, my parents marched us up the hill in a safe spot, right near the road. The trees were a little thinner there, and there were a couple of clear paths to sled down. No need to steer, really, just kick off and slide down. These paths were fantastic for little Melissa and littler Jenny... especially the one that let out onto the snow-covered road, and offered a particularly lengthy ride. Truly bliss for two little be-mittened girls.
But not enough for the mad mountain man... my father.
This barbarian, with his animalistic desire for adrenaline, wanted... nay! Needed to find a grander adventure than these bunny slopes. Fervor lighting his eyes and spittle flecking his beard, he found an optimal spot. Trees barred the way, treacherous obstacles to maneuver about. Beyond that, the route was shrouded in mystery. Uncertainty was the only certainty on this deranged descent. He had to do it.
But he would not be going alone.
Swept up in his frenzy, innocent, unsuspecting, and trusting, I found myself in front of my dad on the sled, pointed down a new direction. "It's going to be fun!" my father promised. "You're going to love it!" I wonder to this day if he truly believed that, and that the tragedy was all just an accident... But I tend to think it was the sickness in his brain that spoke those words.
The ride started out just fine. Weaving through the trees, my own infant addiction to adrenaline was being fed; I was thrilled. We picked up speed...
...and then... the worst.
I don't know if it was root or rock, but whatever we hit sent us airborne. My father, heavier than I, was deposited squarely (and I almost hope painfully) on his posterior in the snow. This left me, careening even faster now that I was alone, hurtling through the trees toward my certain demise. It was then I saw the stream approaching at break-neck speed... But before that lay the branch. Such an enormous branch I had never seen before; what behemoth of a tree could have sprouted that monstrosity?
But I didn't have time to think of these things at that moment. Before I could react, the sled hit the branch, instantly dropping from the speed of sound to a dead stop. However, I was not so fortunate. The branch had two effects on me. Firstly, the sudden decrease in speed caused the contents of my rather stuffy sinuses to empty all down my face. And secondly, I was launched ass-first into that barely-frozen stream.
By some miracle, I remained relatively dry, aside from the torrents of snot the had been knocked out of me. The soreness, both of body and ego, was where the real damage had been done. As I laid there, shocked and crying, I looked up to see...
...my devoted father...
...laughing his ass off.
The moral of this story, children? Dads are dicks!
I have no idea how old I was when these terrible events transpired. I must have been no more than eight. I would hope so, anyway; you'll understand as you read on.
We had just gotten a good little snowstorm, and my family was heading out for a day of sledding. With blue plastic toboggans and Thermos of hot chocolate in tow, we headed out to the Assunpink Wildlife Management Area, where dwells a fantastic hill. My little sister and I vibrated with ill-contained glee and excitement.
Now, before I continue, I need to impress upon you, my precious readers, just what this hill entails. It is steep. I mean epic steep. In snow, most cars cannot climb the road up it. It is also heavily wooded in parts. A stream lies at the bottom of it. And as I discovered, above all, it is a fickle mistress.
When we arrived, my parents marched us up the hill in a safe spot, right near the road. The trees were a little thinner there, and there were a couple of clear paths to sled down. No need to steer, really, just kick off and slide down. These paths were fantastic for little Melissa and littler Jenny... especially the one that let out onto the snow-covered road, and offered a particularly lengthy ride. Truly bliss for two little be-mittened girls.
But not enough for the mad mountain man... my father.
This barbarian, with his animalistic desire for adrenaline, wanted... nay! Needed to find a grander adventure than these bunny slopes. Fervor lighting his eyes and spittle flecking his beard, he found an optimal spot. Trees barred the way, treacherous obstacles to maneuver about. Beyond that, the route was shrouded in mystery. Uncertainty was the only certainty on this deranged descent. He had to do it.
But he would not be going alone.
Swept up in his frenzy, innocent, unsuspecting, and trusting, I found myself in front of my dad on the sled, pointed down a new direction. "It's going to be fun!" my father promised. "You're going to love it!" I wonder to this day if he truly believed that, and that the tragedy was all just an accident... But I tend to think it was the sickness in his brain that spoke those words.
The ride started out just fine. Weaving through the trees, my own infant addiction to adrenaline was being fed; I was thrilled. We picked up speed...
...and then... the worst.
I don't know if it was root or rock, but whatever we hit sent us airborne. My father, heavier than I, was deposited squarely (and I almost hope painfully) on his posterior in the snow. This left me, careening even faster now that I was alone, hurtling through the trees toward my certain demise. It was then I saw the stream approaching at break-neck speed... But before that lay the branch. Such an enormous branch I had never seen before; what behemoth of a tree could have sprouted that monstrosity?
But I didn't have time to think of these things at that moment. Before I could react, the sled hit the branch, instantly dropping from the speed of sound to a dead stop. However, I was not so fortunate. The branch had two effects on me. Firstly, the sudden decrease in speed caused the contents of my rather stuffy sinuses to empty all down my face. And secondly, I was launched ass-first into that barely-frozen stream.
By some miracle, I remained relatively dry, aside from the torrents of snot the had been knocked out of me. The soreness, both of body and ego, was where the real damage had been done. As I laid there, shocked and crying, I looked up to see...
...my devoted father...
...laughing his ass off.
The moral of this story, children? Dads are dicks!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Old words with Beckham
I was with Beckham briefly today when I stopped by the farm to drop off some more feed. We hung out for ten, maybe twenty minutes... Not really doing anything, just sitting in the sun and cuddling. He is the love of my life. It's hard to believe he's already three years old... I remember the first day I saw him like it was yesterday. Being with him today reminded me of a passage I wrote in my Moleskine in January, 2008:
"Walking next to him amongst the trees, I feel as if i am walking beside a god. His red body vibrant against the grays of the winter landscape, he is bigger, grander than his baby form could be. His serenity belies his scant nine months; his eyes hold the wisdom of generations. I am truly blessed to harbor such company.
"Together, we partake of the wilderness, relishing this reprieve from the real world. We are part of this natural existence, this god and I, and all else ceases to exist. The shuffle of the fallen leaves, the crackling branches, the wind in the boughs of the trees... The birds flitting overhead and deer bounding aside to let us pass... This is our existence now.
"An interminable span of time passes... An eon. And then, as the human world is all but erased from our minds, the trees thin and present us a stark reminder...
"A sandy desert cuts through the woods. Hills that by no rights should exist rise up around tracks laid by no animal foot. My god stops dead, as if shaken from a reverie. Ears pricked, eyes wide, nostrils flared... The human world overwhelms his senses once more. He is still grand, but we are both shaken, both unnerved.
"We step out into this desert, unsettled but ever curious. I notice power lines to our right, he sees houses far off to the left. At once my thoughts turn to the ever-pressing advance of 'civilization.' I sigh, place a hand on my god's shoulder, and we continue to explore further.
"What we find could not have been expected by the infant at my side, but even I am shocked.
"And somewhat amused.
"Two behemoths lie behind a hill, in a valley of their own construction. At first I take them as further proof that human habitation demands this space, but then I see... Rust. Broken metal. Scraps and mechanical parts littering the area. Spray paint. These monsters are dead, their bodies defiled by the local youth. Two metal monsters in a grave they dug themselves. The poetic justice makes me smile.
"My god and I do not stay long in this place. We are satisfied now, curiosity sated. His great form leads me back to our reverie, our dreamed escape to a world more our own."
"Walking next to him amongst the trees, I feel as if i am walking beside a god. His red body vibrant against the grays of the winter landscape, he is bigger, grander than his baby form could be. His serenity belies his scant nine months; his eyes hold the wisdom of generations. I am truly blessed to harbor such company.
"Together, we partake of the wilderness, relishing this reprieve from the real world. We are part of this natural existence, this god and I, and all else ceases to exist. The shuffle of the fallen leaves, the crackling branches, the wind in the boughs of the trees... The birds flitting overhead and deer bounding aside to let us pass... This is our existence now.
"An interminable span of time passes... An eon. And then, as the human world is all but erased from our minds, the trees thin and present us a stark reminder...
"A sandy desert cuts through the woods. Hills that by no rights should exist rise up around tracks laid by no animal foot. My god stops dead, as if shaken from a reverie. Ears pricked, eyes wide, nostrils flared... The human world overwhelms his senses once more. He is still grand, but we are both shaken, both unnerved.
"We step out into this desert, unsettled but ever curious. I notice power lines to our right, he sees houses far off to the left. At once my thoughts turn to the ever-pressing advance of 'civilization.' I sigh, place a hand on my god's shoulder, and we continue to explore further.
"What we find could not have been expected by the infant at my side, but even I am shocked.
"And somewhat amused.
"Two behemoths lie behind a hill, in a valley of their own construction. At first I take them as further proof that human habitation demands this space, but then I see... Rust. Broken metal. Scraps and mechanical parts littering the area. Spray paint. These monsters are dead, their bodies defiled by the local youth. Two metal monsters in a grave they dug themselves. The poetic justice makes me smile.
"My god and I do not stay long in this place. We are satisfied now, curiosity sated. His great form leads me back to our reverie, our dreamed escape to a world more our own."
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Moleskine
What is it about a Moleskine that is so inviting, so tempting, that makes you want to write so desperately? And yet at the same time, so intimidating, with that cool black visage and history of intimacy with so many great creators... So many tough acts to follow. How can I possibly measure up? This little book who has known grandiose thoughts and words, what will it think of my meager meanderings? Nonetheless I feel enticed to try, in hope, such hope, that I might produce something worthy.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
New Jersey
I don't watch much television. I tend to stick with my favorite few: House, NCIS, Top Gear, and a few Discovery Network shows. So I really don't know much about other series there are on TV. But I think I can safely assume that the shows out there about my state (namely Jerseylicious, the Jersey Shore, and Real Housewives of New Jersey) tend to paint the Garden State in a very ugly light.
Let me assure you, we don't all have big hair and Italian ancestries. (Well, I do, but that's beside the point.) There is a lot more to this gorgeous state than fashion-obsessed drunk club rats and Botox bimbos. We're not just odorous Elizabeth and begrimed boardwalks. This is a rich, intelligent, beautiful, and diverse place.
For such a small state, we have a lot to offer. There are six distinct tourism regions: the Skylands to the northwest, Gateway in the northeast, the Shore and Delaware River regions in Central Jersey, and to the south there is Atlantic City and the South Shore. Philadelphia and Manhattan are within easy reach. No matter what your hobbies may be, there is fun to be had here. History, outdoors adventures, shopping, sight-seeing, and so many other types of entertainment... It's difficult to know where to begin!
Plus we have some of the richest farmland in the country. Our Jersey Fresh program supports our farmers in cultivating some of the most delicious produce you'll find. New Jersey is also the home of the horse; we are not only the most densely populated state with people, but also with horses! Our farmlands provide beautiful scenery and opportunities for pleasure and business.
I could go on and on ad nauseum about the joys of New Jersey. It is a pleasure to live here. There is so much opportunity, and the people here are generally easy to get along with. Whatever you want to do, you can do it here. Want to go rafting? Try the Delaware or Hudson Rivers. Feel like seeing a baseball game? Check out the Trenton Thunder for an afternoon with a hot dog and a cold one. After the game, head down the road a bit and see where George Washington crossed the Delaware with his troops. How about a little gambling? There is Atlantic City, of course, or you could put some money on the ponies at one of our racetracks. Oh, and don't forget your sunscreen when you hit the beach; it's easy to lose track of time relaxing on our beaches.
You name it, you got it in New Jersey.
Please come visit us. Get up off the couch, turn off the boob tube, and see for yourselves how awesome the Garden State is.
Let me assure you, we don't all have big hair and Italian ancestries. (Well, I do, but that's beside the point.) There is a lot more to this gorgeous state than fashion-obsessed drunk club rats and Botox bimbos. We're not just odorous Elizabeth and begrimed boardwalks. This is a rich, intelligent, beautiful, and diverse place.
For such a small state, we have a lot to offer. There are six distinct tourism regions: the Skylands to the northwest, Gateway in the northeast, the Shore and Delaware River regions in Central Jersey, and to the south there is Atlantic City and the South Shore. Philadelphia and Manhattan are within easy reach. No matter what your hobbies may be, there is fun to be had here. History, outdoors adventures, shopping, sight-seeing, and so many other types of entertainment... It's difficult to know where to begin!
Plus we have some of the richest farmland in the country. Our Jersey Fresh program supports our farmers in cultivating some of the most delicious produce you'll find. New Jersey is also the home of the horse; we are not only the most densely populated state with people, but also with horses! Our farmlands provide beautiful scenery and opportunities for pleasure and business.
I could go on and on ad nauseum about the joys of New Jersey. It is a pleasure to live here. There is so much opportunity, and the people here are generally easy to get along with. Whatever you want to do, you can do it here. Want to go rafting? Try the Delaware or Hudson Rivers. Feel like seeing a baseball game? Check out the Trenton Thunder for an afternoon with a hot dog and a cold one. After the game, head down the road a bit and see where George Washington crossed the Delaware with his troops. How about a little gambling? There is Atlantic City, of course, or you could put some money on the ponies at one of our racetracks. Oh, and don't forget your sunscreen when you hit the beach; it's easy to lose track of time relaxing on our beaches.
You name it, you got it in New Jersey.
Please come visit us. Get up off the couch, turn off the boob tube, and see for yourselves how awesome the Garden State is.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Welcome
Much as I am no great technophile, and much as the word "blog" bugs the crap outta me, I've decided to go ahead and jump on the bandwagon. I figure this will be an opportunity to share some of my remarkable (and some ordinary) experiences. I like to write and I like to share, and this seems to be a good medium to do both of those things.
Perhaps a brief biography is in order. I am a 1984 cusp Scorpio on the East Coast of the United States. I consider myself a jack of all trades, master of none, though I've come to realize that I need to at least master one enough to make a career of it. Thus I am back at school, working on a second Bachelor's degree; the first was in animal science, this one was biological sciences but has changed to ecology. You may correctly deduce from this that I am a great lover of animals, the environment, and nature in general. I'm an outdoorsy individual, and adore a good adventure. I love to find the science and art in all things, and have a soft spot for dichotomy.
I am plagued by introversion, and have a far easier time interacting with others through the written word than the spoken. I have an old love for writing that I had forgone for a while, but now want to revive. Hopefully my readers, if I am lucky enough to garner any, will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
Perhaps a brief biography is in order. I am a 1984 cusp Scorpio on the East Coast of the United States. I consider myself a jack of all trades, master of none, though I've come to realize that I need to at least master one enough to make a career of it. Thus I am back at school, working on a second Bachelor's degree; the first was in animal science, this one was biological sciences but has changed to ecology. You may correctly deduce from this that I am a great lover of animals, the environment, and nature in general. I'm an outdoorsy individual, and adore a good adventure. I love to find the science and art in all things, and have a soft spot for dichotomy.
I am plagued by introversion, and have a far easier time interacting with others through the written word than the spoken. I have an old love for writing that I had forgone for a while, but now want to revive. Hopefully my readers, if I am lucky enough to garner any, will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
