Musical Thesis (15/15): Best of Musical Thesis

Musical Thesis (15/15): Best of Musical Thesis  

On August 23, 2016, I published my first album review. The album was Why Are You Okay by Band of Horses. Since that initial review, I have published another 93 album reviews.

When reviewing movies, I am trying to uncover answers to two related questions. How does the film make me feel? Is it any good? When writing these reviews, I keep the answers to those questions at the forefront of my mind.

With reviews of albums, I wanted to do something drastically different. Instead of deciding how good a particular album is, I wanted to view the entire collection of songs as a thesis. If I could easily uncover that thesis, I would then try to judge my own emotions in relation to the artist’s intent.

This approach has radically changed how I listen to music. I have always listened to music with a detective hat on my head. This sort of curiosity keeps me busy digging through lyrics and listening closely to the message the artist is trying to get across. For me, there is a lot of joy in a song that tells a complete story, and then discovering what that story means.

With my Musical Thesis reviews, I wanted to do more than try to find what the artist was attempting to express. I wanted to uncover a thesis holding the album together. From there, I wanted to dig deep into how that thesis made me feel.

In 94 albums, I have heard heartbreak. I have heard songs about feeling lost, the passing of time, normalcy, freedom, protest, family, places that matter, America, and so much more. Together, the 94 albums I have reviewed over the last 8 years attempt to describe the human condition. When I think more introspectively, I see ways in which they describe my human condition. Ultimately, this is why I choose to think critically about art. In music, movies, books, and hundreds of other artistic expressions, I am searching for myself.

Since 2016, I have collected songs from each album reviewed in a playlist. I have often returned to this playlist. Each song mirrors a fossil like record of a time and place that can be connected back to my own life. In this playlist, representing the 15 most impactful songs of the last 15 years, I share a small portion of myself with you. I hope you can find your own story to tell in these songs.

Be good to each other,

Nathan 

Point B (15/15): The Destination That Changed Me

Travel solo. Travel solo, at least once in your life. If you are in the United States, take a road trip across your home state. Drive across this beautiful country of ours. Fly somewhere new or fly somewhere familiar, but do it alone. Book a plane ticket and head for some place your feet have never touched before.

I know the fear you may be feeling reading such a paragraph. I know the nightmare scenarios your mind may be exploring. I feel your anxiety. I have been there too, but I need you to trust me.

Traveling solo is an act of bravery that will change you. If travel can be boiled down to the act of moving from Point A to Point B, I am here to tell you that the person you meet at your destination after traveling solo will be brand new. By doing so, you will discover a braver, more capable, and confident version of yourself. Forced to depend solely on yourself, you will be tested and challenged in unimaginable ways. Your resourcefulness will be your only guide. Best laid plans will do what they always do, but I urge you to keep pressing forward. I am living proof that the rewards are worth the trials.

Back in 2011, I could have never imagined giving such advice to people. That version of myself was incapable of doing most things alone. But then, when I needed it the most, I found an insane moment of bravery and held on tightly with clenched fists as I pointed my car toward the Pacific Northwest.

Driving from Oklahoma to California, and then toward Seattle, I could feel myself changing with each new state line. I felt a goose-bump-inducing level of pride for my small wins. With each mile, I felt more open to new experiences. There was no one else to rely on, but the man driving his car toward new opportunities. I was beginning to realize my own power.

I arrived in Seattle. Here, I would make my stand among a mass of people, all of them strangers to me. For the first time in my life, I felt ready for whatever challenge might visit my doorstep. Before me would be unforeseeable tests that would challenge my resolve. In each of these episodes, I would begin to doubt my power. Then, I would recall the bravery it took to drive across the country, leaving everything I held dear in my rear view mirror.

Every setback or moment of celebration would find me reflecting on that pioneering spirit that drew me westward.

Confidently planted in my new home, this encounter with solo travel would inspire me to do more. It would take me to countless American cities. I would travel even further and plan a trip to Rio de Janeiro. In this bravery, I would find permission to pursue a thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. It made the unbelievable task of leaving Seattle for Los Angeles a little less daunting.

Relishing my new superpower, I would discover a new truth. There are moments in this life that are meant to be shared with others. Seeing the world through the eyes of my partner or dear friends, I am reminded of the life changing and life affirming power of travel. In our collective awe, my cup is refilled. Reflecting on our shared experiences, I know I could not fully appreciate these moments if it had not been for a moment of bravery that drew me from the relative safety of Oklahoma.

It is not Rio, New York City, Vancouver, or any of the other countless destinations I have visited that changed me. Rather, it was the open road that pushed me to a place I now call home that changed the trajectory of my life. Without hesitation, it was the greatest decision of my life.

Be good to each other,

Nathan

Poetry (15/15): More Than a Poem

Past Tense

You are gone.

No longer here.

In fact, you are nowhere to be found.

Occupying yourself in the past tense…

It is the new way to describe you.

Unfamiliar territory,

We are forced to retrain the brain.

Occupying ourselves with the past tense…

“Remember when,” is how we begin conversations.

Rightly so, you are the center of those.

Filling ourselves with memories, while

Occupying time with the past tense…

Frozen and unable to move,

We hold tightly to the idea of you.

Building angels in your absence,

Occupying life with the past tense.

I began writing poetry in high school. As almost everyone can attest, this period in life is filled with angst, transition, hormones, and emotions you can barely understand. It is even more challenging to describe them in any way that makes sense.

Lost and confused, I turned to a white blank page. Sitting at a desk in my bedroom, my pen would begin to make sense of the world while I quietly meditated on my experiences. Without question, the practice was the best therapy I could afford. It helped me express what I found nearly impossible to say aloud. Armed with a name for my emotions, I could return to the world with all the armor I needed.

As I moved through college and into my professional and adult life, I continued writing poetry. I did so countless times to process the world around me, but I also did it without the intention of sharing my poetry with others.

After graduating from the University of Central Oklahoma, I was at a house party with some friends. With a few too many beers in my system, I started talking with a friend’s wife. Somehow, we got on the subject of poetry. Feeling brave, I told her about my practice. Digging deeper, she encouraged me to share my work with the world.

At first, I was nervous to do so. So much of what I had written were my private feelings and struggles. I wasn’t sure I was ready to bear it all for the world to read. We talked some more, and still, she encouraged me. Eventually, I concluded that there are no truly unique human experiences. To varying degrees, we all go through the same challenges. Perhaps my poetry might help those struggling feel a little less alone.

Shortly after launching my website, I began sharing my poetry with the world. I have continued to do so for fifteen years. Of all the poems I have written and shared with the world, Past Tense remains the most popular.

I have written countless poems about my brother, Lucas, who died by suicide almost ten years ago. I shared the above poem on what should have been his 25th birthday. It had grown difficult to talk about my brother in the past tense. When asked the question, “How many siblings do you have?” Do I say, “An older sister and three brothers” or do I say, “an older sister and brother, as well as a younger brother and another brother who is no longer with us?” I also found myself forgetting the sound of his voice, as well as other small things that made him a unique human being.

Instead, Lucas became a single memory built on the foundation of hundreds of other memories. Those memories were both happy and sad. They were also relegated to the past tense. We would not be creating new memories together. That truth broke my heart and sent me toward a blank white page to wrestle with that frustration.

Since choosing to share this poem with the world, nearly 500 people have read it. I would like to think that some of them turned to my words because they shared the same frustration. All I can hope is that they found what they were looking for in this simple poem. If they return to this essay, I hope they have come to terms with what it means to lose someone, and what it means to move them to the past tense.

Be good to each other,

Nathan

Captured (15/15): A Photography Journey

Back in 2012, I upgraded my camera and began sharing my photography with the world. I did so with some anxiety. All the photographers I admired were so much better than me. Undeterred, I kept at it. Every trip, every drive across the country, every walk through my hometown, and every new challenge presented an opportunity to hone my newfound hobby.

As I look back at this collection of photos, I see more than composition, lighting, and angles. I remember the friends standing by my side when I captured some of these photos. For those times I was alone, I remember wishing someone was standing next to me experiencing the beauty I was attempting to remember. I also remember the joy I felt holding a moment I considered beautiful and unforgettable.

These photos are a timeline of an amateur photographer who desperately wants to experience more of the world, but someone who remains privileged to have found a hobby that forces me to slow down and meditate on the beauty of this world. I hope these moments in time encourage you to do the same.

American Flag - 2012 (Seattle, WA)

Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum - 2013 (Oklahoma City, OK)

Field of Tulips - 2014 (Mt. Vernon, WA)

Cracked Desert Floor - 2015 (Salton Sea, CA)

A Foggy Hike - 2016 (Snoqualmie Pass, WA)

A Clocktower - 2017 (Chicago, IL)

Downtown Chicago - 2018 (Chicago, IL)

A Curve in the Road - 2019 (Joshua Tree National Park, CA)

The Broad - 2020 (Los Angeles, CA)

The Golden Gate Bridge - 2021 (San Francisco, CA)

Downtown Seattle - 2022 (Seattle, WA)

At An Angle - 2023 (Oklahoma City, OK)

Busy Bee - 2024 (Los Angeles, CA)

Be good to each other,

Nathan

In Love (Podcast)

This year, my website is celebrating its 15th anniversary. I am doing a lot to mark the special occasion, including sharing the 15 most read stories from the last 15 years. Today, I thought I would share one of those essays with you. This is “In Love.” I hope you enjoy.

Be good to each other,

Nathan

Potent Quotable (15/15): A Guiding Quote

In 2011, I began my nonprofit career in earnest at Kent Youth and Family Services. In those early days, I was amid a new beginning, far from family, friends, and the only home I had ever known. Transition coupled with work in a new sector made those early days challenging. In a way, I felt as if I was being tested. Watching friends buy homes, get married, and travel, while I struggled to keep food on the table because of my chosen field, kept me wrestling with jealousy and a false sense of martyrdom.

Attempting to divorce my ego from my sense of suffering sent me searching for something I could use as a north star. I needed a roadmap, story, lesson, or guiding quote to shade myself from the harshness of my reality. Then, out of the blue and when I needed it most, I stumbled across the following Greek proverb.

“A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit.”

The first time I read this quote, I was stunned. I read it repeatedly, attempting to fully understand every word in the sentence. As I sat with it and reflected a little longer, I discovered exactly what I needed. Since then, it has become an unofficial mission statement for my life. I often pair it with a personal motto that sums up the decisions that have delivered me to this point in my life.

“I wholeheartedly reject the tyranny of the expected.”

In celebration of 15 years of Natetheworld, I want to dig deeper into the quote, explore my personal motto, and reveal a new quote that will guide the next chapter of my life.

If you and I found ourselves bellied up to a bar discussing the greatest challenges facing our country and the world, I would tell you that I am most concerned with the rampant selfishness and cynicism I see on almost every street corner. I am utterly baffled by those who see injustices in our housing/food systems, injustices in our economy, and injustices in our society, then decide it isn’t their problem. Even more unsettling, I am disheartened by those with the power to bring about real change, but too cynical to try.

If our society has any real chance of saving itself, it must be able to operate and sacrifice without immediate thoughts turning toward personal benefit. While we may not experience homelessness, we must understand that housing those without homes benefits us all. While we may have plenty to eat, we must understand the plight of those who do not. While we may have never experienced discrimination, we must work to undo structural inequities.

If humanity has any chance of seeing a new dawn, it must plant selfless seeds without much care given to whoever benefits. Said in another way, we must choose to give a damn. We must work tirelessly, and we must realize we may never see the fruits of our work. Yet, we must persevere, knowing society will be made better by the work we started.

In our world, this sort of thinking is not perceived as the norm. Ayn Rand devotees and “the greed is good” crowd would have you believe selfishness is the ultimate aim. They preach with little regard given to the fact that success rarely trickles down. They move forward with a survival of the fittest mentality, and without much thought given to those left behind.

I wholeheartedly reject this lone of thinking. In fact, I wholeheartedly reject the tyranny of the expected. Instead, I implore you to chart a different path. Make up your own mind about religion, politics, home, work, marriage, and kids. Chart a different path beyond those examples that served your parents and their parents. As you push this new frontier, always consider how you can be of the most good, using the talents and treasure you have been afforded. This isn’t a trickle. This is a ripple effect with unimaginable possibilities.

For more than 10 years, this thinking has guided my employment choices. It has influenced who I have loved, how I loved, who I vote for, the entertainment I consume, and so much else. As I pause on this moment, I see an opportunity to transition and sharpen my focus. This season of change begins with a new quote to full explore.

“Speak only if it improves upon the silence.” -Mahatma Gandhi

When I speak, both verbally and non-verbally, I want to be a person who adds value to the conversation. I want my words to matter and carry strength. I don’t want to be another person who fills awkward silence with nonsense. Instead, I want to be a person who relishes moments of quiet reflection as opportunities to cherish the power weaved into these moments. I want to promote reflection over instant reactions. I want to hear from people who aren’t the loudest or most boisterous voices in the room. When I speak, I want people to know they have been heard, and I have considered their words with my whole being.

In my attempt, I will fail. I will break the silence with a joke. I will misspeak or fail to make a solid point. But I will keep trying. I will keep trying, because I am confident on the other side of this unknown chasm is a better leader, husband, friend, and community member. In this belief, I find a connection to a quote which began this journey. This is yet another seed for me to plant.

Be good to each other,

Nathan

15/15: Reflections on 15 Years of Natetheworld

15 years ago, I began a journey thanks to a friend’s encouragement. I had always loved to write, but with the click of a button, I was choosing to share my passion with the world. That moment of bravery would change my whole life. It would open doors beyond my wildest dreams. It would find me standing in places I never imagined. It would lead to my current job. It would create spaces that invited me to think critically about film.

15 years later, I have attempted to write honestly about the world as I experience it, with thousands of essays, poems, reviews, and projects. From the very beginning, there was always an invitation for friends, family, and complete strangers to join me.

Writing is the thing I would do even if no one was reading. Without a doubt, though, it has been the greatest honor of my life to have my work read. On this journey, we have loved, laughed, and cried together. Along the way, I hope we all felt a little less alone. And I hope we all learned that no one should define themselves by their worst days.

As I reflect upon this milestone, I am thinking deeply about essays that served as inflection points. I experience these inflection points as moments when my writing changes, a new audience presents itself, and/or I can write more openly. In honor of 15 years, I thought we might revisit some of those essays. Some of these essays are hard for me to read. I am often my harshest critic, but I think it is necessary to revisit these time capsules. As a personal exercise, I want to see how much I have grown as a writer. Together, I hope we can see progress and change.

 My First Attempt

To read this essay, click here.

I love this quote from Ashley Hetherington. “I wonder about all the things we miss out on when we stay in comfort zones. When we stay safe, when we don’t take that chance, that could change everything.”

I was so nervous about hitting “post” on my first essay. Privately, I had been sharing essays and poems with trusted friends for years. Sharing something on the internet felt terrifying. With the click of a button, I would release control. I would be vulnerable. Nevertheless, I persisted. It was something I had to do. I am so thankful I did.

With some courage, a prayer that the world would be gentle on me, and a promise to give this journey my best effort, I published. Then, I didn’t stop. I shared. Perhaps I over shared. I worked through my struggles, my losses, my love, and my emotions. I did it out loud, hoping to find a community, and with a hope that those going through the same challenges might discover they aren’t so alone. By doing so, my whole life changed, and I changed right alongside it. 

 To My Brother Lucas, My Family, and Friends

To read this essay, click here.

I have never written something more important than the eulogy for my brother’s funeral. Flying from Seattle back to Oklahoma, I began crafting the words I would attempt to share. I would finish it in Debbie Morey’s office. On a Friday, I delivered them to a crowded funeral home. The entire process felt like an out-of-body experience. In reflection, I see a man working through the stages of grief.

Since then, I have written extensively about suicide, depression, and grief. The outpouring of support with every essay has been overwhelming. What has been more amazing to me has been hearing from people who are struggling. I have been told my words helped them see a little light in the darkness. As a writer, I don’t think you can long for much more than that.

 An Honest Post

To read this essay, click here.

The day the Supreme Court made marriage equality the law of the land, I ended years of struggle and come out. After I pushed post, I headed for the Washington coast. Camping on Shi Shi Beach, I was without a stable internet connection. I did not know how the world was reacting to my confession.

When I finally returned to civilization, I felt an avalanche of love and support. Since then, I have a met an amazing man who loves me deeply and makes me feel as if anything is possible. We are engaged to be married and are planning for the future. Looking back on this post, I am so grateful for the courage and the journey that delivered to such a moment. But I also cannot help but hope for better days. I dearly wish we would reach a point when it isn’t necessary for someone to come out anymore. I wish acceptance and love were our default settings.  

 Los Angeles, I Am Yours/California Stars

To read this essay, click here.

Rereading this essay, it feels like it was a lifetime ago when we left Seattle for Los Angeles. Honestly, it just feels like yesterday when we moved back to the Pacific Northwest.

I still deeply miss Los Angeles. I miss the friends, the work, and the community I built there. I found the change I needed in my life in Southern California. However, my partner does not feel the same way. Moving back was hard, and as you will see from the essay below, building a new community has been one of the greatest struggles in my life. But I haven’t given up on Seattle. I am still here doing the work, hoping for better days.

Seattle (An Essay)

To read this essay, click here.

I write and publish a lot of essays, but I rarely turn my focus inward. In this essay, you can see my personal struggles laid open for all to see. Talking about my own mental health is rarely something I do, but this piece exists because I needed to say these things to someone.

Since publishing this essay, calling Seattle home again has become easier, but the struggle remains. Looking back at my life and all I have written, I see a myriad of inflection points. With the future laid before me, I cannot help but wonder what the future inflection points will be. How will I respond? What will I write about them? How will I find community in those moments?

Be good to each other,

Nathan