Things Stolen from Us, Part III

Image provided by @donaldwuid.

As I write this, I do so as a 40-year-old man. Standing on top of the hill, I see the inclined path that brought me to this summit. The path was filled with countless challenges and moments when my resolve was tested. At the summit, I also see the declining journey that will bring me to life’s end. I may not know the journey’s terminus, but I have accepted it will end.  

In this thought, I discover a new truth. Time is stolen from us. Holding this space for a moment, I feel both the slow march of time and its rapid escape. This hill is beginning to feel like a black hole. This dissonance comes with age. As a child, it often feels like you are waiting for some expected event in the not-too-distant future. When you’re young, Christmas takes forever, and so does summer break. Graduating high school and leaving the confines of your hometown is another one of those moments that feels impossibly far away. In these stretches of time, you are a victim of time, but you are also wishing your life away with each moment spent waiting for a future rendezvous.  

Then, suddenly and out of nowhere, you’re 30. At about this time, you begin to realize how quickly life is flashing before your eyes. It seems like you were in grade school just yesterday. College will have evaporated into nothing more than a memory. Your childhood has vanished. Your teenage years are just a blimp on the map. You’ve been tossed into the world wishing you could hold onto time a little longer. Yet, time keeps marching on.  

This is a powerful realization, but so is what comes next. If you are lucky to live and love for long enough, family and dear friends will begin to pass. Like an epiphany, you will realize that the moment you are holding onto right now will never return. They will come. They will go, but it is up to you to fill them with meaning. So many of these moments will be mundane, but with the right mindset, there can be absolute joy in the mundane.  

As you face saying goodbye to those you love, you will bargain with time and promise never to waste a moment. I hope you take that promise seriously. Use this newfound conviction to pursue things that bring you joy. Find a few opportunities to do things that leave a lasting legacy, and find a few ways to make a measurable difference in the lives of others. Surround yourself with people who fill your cup. Fill their cup in return. Life can and should be more than work, routines, and deadlines. If lived intentionally and with curiosity, life can be filled with purpose.  

Yes, time is stolen from us. It isn’t fair, but a part of the human condition is realizing the truth underlying this thievery. We don’t have to settle into this reality. From a universe that steals time, we can steal back joy, love, kindness, and a thousand other things that make life worthy of your time.  

In the end, this is my advice to you. Fight time with all the hell you can muster.  

Be good to each other,  

Nathan 

Things Stolen from Us, Part II

In our Southern Baptist tradition, we diligently rose from the wooden pews and silently ventured to the front of the funeral home. Around the casket, the Garden of Eden was on full display, with a florist’s bounty of flowers in every direction. In an unassuming casket, I could see the silhouette of my great aunt. Like Hitchcock in profile, I found myself dreading and anxious about the coming moment as I drew closer. Standing on my toes, peering into the box, I laid my eyes on the first dead person I ever saw. The prospect of my own death filled my mind. In that moment, a lifelong fear was born.  

Standing near the unforgiving edge of an abyss, that once crossed, will be impossible to find again, I meet the closed eyes of a woman I only knew for a short time. Our relationship hadn’t existed longer than the time it takes to age a cheap bottle of Scotch, but those surrounding me are wiping away tears and longing for better days. Even at a young age, I knew this moment was important. It continues to stay with me. I will never forget the day my innocence was stolen from me.  

As we walked away from the casket, I was forever changed. While I wouldn’t necessarily consider the moment traumatic, I remember it emotionally destroying people I love and those who love me. They were being changed in real time. In their wake, so was I.  

Standing in the present day reflecting on this moment, I am deeply considering the experience when my innocence was stolen from me. I also think about you and your experiences. I am sure many of us can share a similar story. Almost all of us can pinpoint a moment when everything changed. In conversation with others, this loss of innocence almost always centers around death.  

After we said goodbye to my great aunt, I recall having the most vivid nightmares. I combined this experience with all I heard from the pulpit in church. Burning in the fiery pits of hell due to my sinful ways, I remember feeling a separation from the astounding joy of life. This brush with death would send me searching for the cross as insurance in hopes of escaping eternal torment. I longed to know eternal life and a return to some semblance of innocence.  

With time and a spiritual journey far removed from the pressures of my upbringing, I have drawn vastly different conclusions about heaven and hell. I have settled on a simple, yet profound truth that makes sense for me. In this life, I will never know if these places exist, but I understand the finite nature of life. I know we die. What happens from there, I will theologians and biblical scholars debate. I also know that once we experience the death of someone we love, life changes drastically.  

 The veil is lifted, and we are asked to dance with the faults of mankind. We are exposed to our collective wickedness, shortcomings, and selfishness. We see the ways in which we fail each other, and the needless harm we cause each other. The harm may not always be malicious, but the scar remains.  

Standing on this open plain, wrestling with the newfound knowledge that all life ends, we come to understand that life is more complicated and complex than our childlike innocence would have us believe. As tough as these lessons might be, they are so necessary. They are meant to protect us. They are a shield, providing a simple choice. We can choose to be better and craft a new path, or we can be consumed by the failures of man.  

I choose not to be blinded by the innocence of man, but I also choose not to be consumed by the folly of man. I know there are heroes among us, and the choice to follow in their footsteps is mine. I am not longing for days of innocence, as if death was some toy that can be put away and forgotten. I am thankful for the experience where pain revealed itself. I see that pain. I thank it for revealing itself, and I find myself searching for a different path.  

Be good to each other,  

Nathan  

Things Stolen from Us, Part I

Time feels like watching paint dry. Christmas always feels forever away, and my birthday isn’t much better. Then, in an instant, you look backward to discover how much has escaped you. It feels like a small puddle falling victim to the sun on a hot summer day. My youth is stolen from me, and I found myself thrust into adulthood with little regard to my desire to slow everything down.  

With a mountain of responsibility resting on my exhausted shoulders, I find myself staring intently into the bathroom mirror. At the edges of eyes, written across my forehead, and drawn drastically between my cheeks and mouth, wrinkles are beginning to form. They give away my age before I ever utter a word. Staring a little longer, there are days when my face feels like the clay of the desert floor being baked by the harshest of the sun’s rays. Cracks are spreading in every direction.  

Silent strands of gray hair are making themselves known like an uninvited guest at a party I had no intention of hosting. Without permission, they are sneaking into a forest of brown and pretending I do not notice. At the right angle, I find them hiding in plain sight. Still, I must count myself lucky in this regard. I still have hair.  

Rising each morning, my body hurts in new and fascinating places. My back no longer belongs to Atlas. Prone to fits of spasm, it serves as a constant reminder of the time slipping through my fingers. Heading north or south and stretching in all directions from my lower back, you will find a hundred destinations revealing my mortality.  

As I drew closer to my 40th birthday, I found myself only partly in a celebratory mood. Mostly, I kept tossing the same idea back and forth. I am closer to 80 than the day I was born.  

Friends are beginning to fall ill. A few unlucky ones have passed away. Each serve as a thundering reminder that my days are numbered. If I am lucky, I can double what I have managed thus far. In the grand scheme of things, this still does not seem like enough time. If I am honest, the end absolutely terrifies me.
Time is being stolen from me, and I am helpless to stop it.  

Be good to each other,  

Nathan

Our Lives Are But A Moment (Podcast)

I have been thinking a lot about my mortality and legacy. As someone on the verge of 40 and in decent health, this may seem like an odd thought exercise, but for me it has felt necessary. The essay I am sharing today, “Our Lives Are But A Moment,” is a confrontation with those thoughts. I hope they will give you something to ponder over when considering your own life.

Be good to each other,

Nathan

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Friendships Growing Apart

Some friendships have expiration dates. The person who was my best friend in grade school was not my best friend in high school. My best friend in high school was not my best friend in college. Distance, time, responsibilities, and changing interests forced these friendships to grow apart. When I look back on those who were once such a major part of my life, I tend to find myself filled with regret. I wish I had done more to keep them strong and thriving. I also know some of this is the natural cycle of life.

Some people are meant to stay in your life for a little while. In Eddie, I found my first real friend. Unathletic, adorned with glasses, lovers of Saturday morning cartoons, we shared enough interests to keep life interesting. Thanks to Eddie, the playground was a little less lonely and my life was a lot more exciting.

As we transitioned from grade school to middle and high school, Eddie and I became interested in different things. Our taste in music was not the same. Our social circles did not mirror each other. What we valued from school changed. Our friendship grew apart.

In Brian, I found an equal. I found a person with a sense of humor mirroring mine. Brian possessed a unique ability to begin an evening laughing his way through some Tom Green gag and then transition to talking about cloud computing and black holes. I valued Brian’s intellect and wit. He made me more confident, funnier and challenged me to think more deeply. Brian was a grade behind me in school. When I graduated from Frederick High and started college, distance and new responsibilities got the best of me. Our friendship grew apart.

In Matt, I have found a best friend for life. Matt is hilarious, curious, and a gifted creator. Matt is one of the most loveable human beings you will ever meet. People are drawn to his energy and I was too. In fact, I still am. When I chose to leave Oklahoma for Seattle, I was fearful of our friendship growing apart. I made a promise not to repeat past mistakes. We still text and talk regularly and always make it a priority to visit each other when our orbits collide. Matt is one of those friendships I never want to lose.

Beyond these three gentlemen, there has been a fantastic cast of characters… Chris, Rob, Lyle, Tim Casey, Mark, Patrick, JR, and Tim. No matter the state of these friendships today, their value in my life has not been diminished. Like iron sharpening iron, they have impacted my life in incredible ways. I am better for knowing each of them. We may not speak as often as we once did. Distance, time, responsibilities, and changing interests may have won the day, but they made me a better friend, partner, citizen, and person. Even with the flow of life, their lessons have not been forgotten.

Be good to each other,

Nathan 

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I-35

Like all good love stories, I didn’t see this coming. Like any story of mine, that’s the only time I’m saying the word love. Because I didn’t see this coming. I like to control as much as humanly possible. I worry things into the ground and prepare as much as I can so there’s less to worry about. I carefully surround myself with a select group of people that keep me both protected and unavailable, but also not lonely. That way I don’t have to mess with dating. It’s one less thing to handle. I knew one day I’d want to, and when that day came hopefully it wouldn’t be too late—I wouldn’t have worn out my welcome with all men. Until then, I had to figure out who I was alone; I needed to heal and move past the past.

As I did those things my outlook changed. It isn’t that I wanted to suddenly find someone, but apparently they found me. I learned to say no thank you. I wasn’t ready; I wasn’t interested. Until the day I didn’t want to. Then I was more forward than I ever had been before. All I could think of was leaving—then having 800 miles between us—without figuring out if I was wrong about what was going on. If I was the only one who felt the way I did.

(I wasn’t wrong.)

We didn’t plan for this. No one is moving just yet. There are planes and highways and phones. It’s not easy, but it’s the simplest decision I’ve made in years. I may be the least romantic person who’s ever said that some things are just predestined. And when you’re not used to a person being willing to even stay home on a Friday night, it’s hard to get used to one driving across the country for a weekend. But these are called standards, and mine have changed.

 (I wasn’t wrong.)

s.jensen

August 2016

For my 2016 writing project, I’ve decided to write a single line of poetry every day for an entire year. Below, is August’s poem. Enjoy!

We are wrapped in the heat of summer. 

The sun's rays stab at our exposed backs. 

Fall offers temporary relief. 

An explosion of color everywhere we look. 

Winters here are brutal. 

The rain never seems to stop. 

Finally, spring brings forth new life. 

Something is reborn within me. 

Another trip around the sun. 

Nothing quiets the soul like the cosmos. 

Eternal darkness sure feels small. 

Maybe we are alone. 

Staring across the passage of time, 

Nothing could be further from the truth. 

Not even at this moment

Is the pain of alone ours. 

Our lives are intertwined. 

We are stars filling the void. 

Soon, we will realize this truth. 

Hopefully, before it is too late. 

Our moment is short. 

Time never relinquishes its steely grasp. 

So love... 

Love with all that you have. 

Before you know it, 

Darkness will consume. 

Be assured of your place in history. 

Know your legacy. 

Let time pass. 

Be the best you. 

The seasons of your life should reflect that. 

Be good to each other, 

-Nathan 

Time, Familiar Time

We've been here before. 

These set of circumstances are not unbeknownst to us. 

We're a product of our environment. 

The time is not of our choosing. 

It is thrust upon us. 

To be used to make ends meet. 

This time is familiar. 

The decision mirrors one made three years prior. 

The calling is a product created within us. 

It is our choosing. 

We invited it into our lives. 

It trumps selfish things, always has. 

And it always will. 

The weight is different though. 

Time is running short. 

Your life has an end in mind. 

Accept the things you cannot change? 

Go about the business of perfection despite the cost. 

These are the decisions to be made at this time. 

Thanks for entering my world, 

-Nathan 

Not Equipped for Goodbye

I prefer see you later or until next time. Goodbye seems so final. Whether it was a friend, going to college or moving across the country, some of the most challenging moments in my life were when goodbye seemed too real. Those moments where I knew "see you later" may not be a possibility are the moments where I take stock of the relationships that matter. 

In these moments, you can measure what people think of you and what you feel for them. Here, in the long goodbye, impact is felt, emotions run free and love is set loose. This raises an interesting question though: Why do we wait for this moment to let people know what we feel? 

Why do we wait until confronted with the end to let people in? Wouldn't the relationships in our lives be vastly improved if we worked to fill each other up as we go, instead of waiting for the end? The answer is a resounding YES! Sadly, most of us are not equipped for goodbye. I doubt there is a class we could take, a book we could read or a film to be watched that could properly prepare us for the end. There is a change we can make today, though. From here on out, we can choose to let those that matter in. We can choose to let our love shine. We can show our appreciation. We can soften the blow of goodbye. 

Thanks for entering my world, 

-Nathan