A Simple Structure, A Universal Message

Important Lesson For Life: Don't run away from your fears. Face them. Embrace them. Work with them. Grow from them.

Such is the lesson that has recently become some seemingly underlying theme of my life as of late. I don't know why but it seems that every time I turn around these days there's something I want, but it's being blocked by something I don't want.

Case in point: a week ago I was walking across grounds on my way home from a meeting. I cut across the Lawn in the dark. The Grounds were very serene that night and hardly a soul was out. I was walking along that path behind the amphitheater, admiring the way the moon was casting light across the mist over that giant Z on the staircase, when I suddenly heard the loveliest sound. From the depths of Cabell Hall a beast was roaring, and that beast was rock music. I could not, at first, place what I was hearing. At first I thought it was a recording. But it was too pure, too raw and too powerful to be a simple CD. Somebody was rocking out live in a Cabell, a band, I guessed, based on how tight they were in their jamming.

Now, I hear music coming from Cabell all the time, but something about the tunes these guys were cranking out spoke to me. It was that glorious sound that happens when blues and funk get together and muse on the nature of the universe. Deep rich minor 7 chords. Crashing symbols. Moaning lyrics. It was the kind of stuff my dad used to play when I was around three or four. He'd sit me down on a stack of records in the basement of our old home on Apache Road, and wail on his harmonica or his saxophone to the fat vibes of Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton or the Allman Brothers. In essence, I owe all my musical tastes to my Dad. He taught me that nothing in this world carries more soul than a blues tune sung from the heart. And that's what I was hearing that night.

The sound made me stop dead in my tracks. I turned on my heels and leaned over the railing, listening for several minutes to the sounds of this mystery band. I got to listening, and I started getting crazy thoughts. I wanted to jump over the railing and get as close to these guys as possible. I wanted to cheer for them from the ground outside their window. I wanted to climb to a roof, stare at the sky, and sleep under the stars without a care in the world. but eventually, I got a better idea. I started thinking, "What would it be like to play WITH them?"

The more socially conditioned side of me at first screamed "NO". "These are real musicians" it said. "And you're what? A guy who likes their sound and happens to have a guitar?! They'll have none of it. Leave them be and go on home".

"But listen to that SOUND" said that adventurous side of me. "I can't just walk away from it. That's everything about music that I've always loved. It's who I am and who I hope to always be!"

The debate raged on and a shuffled around the sidewalk a rambling wreck. But eventually I convinced myself to walk into Cabell. Eventually I got myself to stand outside their door. And, eventually, I got myself to knock.

"Hey", I said. "So, I know this is really random and intrusive, but I think you guys rock". Some thank yous were extended. "So...yeah. I have an electric guitar back in my dorm that's just been gathering dust these days. Can I...maybe...go get it and play with you all for a while?"

"Of course!"

In order to fully appreciate this little back-and-forth, it pays to understand, and probably surprises most of you, that I have a pretty crippling fear of rejection. I put on a smiley face because I want people to find me agreeable. I want to be everyone's friend and when they don't want to be, it crushes me. I can't help but blame myself. There must be something wrong with ME, I think. I'M just not that cool/ smart/ attractive, etc.

I decided in front of that door that night that I needed to shatter through that glass ceiling. I needed to ASK. I needed to reach out and really leave myself vulnerable to another human's judgment. So I did. Finally. And by God did it pay off.

I wailed on my Les Paul with the lads of Suaret 'til way past midnight. 1-4-5s in A Minor were our common tongue, and we mulled over life with that seemingly simple structure. The guitars sang in perfect harmony, the drums crashed precisely, and I was on Cloud 9.

Maybe one of the best things I'll ever do in my time here.

And such has been the moral of my life recently: to believe in myself and in OTHERS enough to do the things that I want to do. This case is simply one of several recent tests of this principle, and I expand on it because I believe it is terribly blog-worthy.

As far as other stuff that's been going on, my ego's been having a field day. I got accepted into the Men's Leadership Program, which is the Big Brothers mentoring program that's operated by the Women's Center. I have to say I'm very excited about this. We'll be working with my favorite age group (fifth graders!), and I'll be learning how to be a better role model. The meetings have been awesome. We're talking stuff that couldn't be more up my alley, growing up, challenging authority, role models, outdoorsy stuff, adventuring, learning, the whole shebang. In fact, last night we got to bring in and discuss an important item from our childhood. Yours truly brought in his paddle and schooled his fellow MLPers on the Camp Carolina philosophy. More on that soon, since I have much more to write and will be heading to CCB in a few months anyway!

I also got accepted into the Curry School of Education's 5-year Secondary Social-Studies Masters Program. I'm excited on too many levels to really count, but highlights include 1) having a solid future, 2) being accepted into one of the best programs in the country, 3) having an apparently amazing new adviser, and 4) finally getting trained to do exactly what I want to do with my life.

I'll hold off on some smaller things for now to make way for something I've been promising to do for months. Tonight features the first installment of my Galapagos Epic. Enjoy it. And, while you're at it, enjoy life. You only get one shot at it.