Tuesday, April 22, 2008

148 Percent


I came to a harsh realization the other day. The inevitable changes that I’m going through, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, just by growing older have lead me to a place where I ponder my limitations and capabilities, something I haven’t done since I was pre-pubescent.


Clarity: I can still walk, run, feed and clean myself, that’s not what I mean. But in some areas where I may have been confident and or extremely sufficient in my abilities, I realize now that those areas may require a little extra attention or a little more effort.


Is my best not good enough anymore?


I stepped on a scale a few weeks ago and watched as the digital numbers climbed several numbers higher than I’ve ever seen them do in the past. No biggie. Whenever I feel like I’m getting out of hand or falling victim to the “lazies”, I get right into one of my workout regiments, like “Operation Get Right” or “Project Musclebound” and before you know it, all is well in and around my gut.


But not this time.


None of my normal routines were doing the trick which eventually led me to the realization I mentioned earlier. I’m not saying that I’m an old man, but I’m not as young as I was just three or four years ago which means my best has got to get better. Not just in exercise but also in my writing, at work, at home, etc. The effort required as a 24 year-old isn’t good enough anymore to flatten that belly, stand out at work or to make my girlfriend happy.


It may sound simple but it’s weird to think that everything I’ve ever done to excel or succeed at one thing or another might need to be fine tuned or tweaked at this point to compensate for a slower metabolism or more maturity or different priorities.


Right when I thought I was getting the hang of this crazy thing called “life”, now I have to readjust, compensate and adapt….


To myself.


I sincerely believe that I’ve been trying my best to be successful, to be healthy, to take care of my family, to be a good friend and it’s so obvious these days that my best has got to get a little bit better if I want to maintain what I already have. I’m sure I’ll succeed in some facets and probably fail in others. Then it’s not like I have a choice right?


But no pressure. Damn.


- Kiyotoe

Friday, March 28, 2008

Seeing the Invisible Stuff

First, watch this:




When I first saw this video it "bugged" me out that I didn't see that damn bear the first time. So much so that I started the video over to make sure it was really there.

It was.

It made me think that being "aware" is something that we probably take for granted. Who knows how much stuff we miss seeing or hearing because we aren't really "aware" of our surroundings or environment. And forget being cautious of cyclists (which was the point of the commercial which I was completely UNAWARE of being so caught up in the whole Bear thing, but I digress).

Have you ever watched a movie or commercial for the second or third time and seen something that you missed the first time or unlocked some secret meaning behind something you'd heard several times before? I guess that's all a part of awareness or a lack thereof.

On a more literal sense I guess being more aware would mean noticing that crying kid standing alone in the corner of a crowded mall or recognizing how the car ahead of you on the highway is weaving back and forth.

But let's look at it on another level. A certain level of consciousness or awareness can allow you to recognize when something isn't right internally. Have you ever had that "feeling" that something in your body just wasn't working properly or that your body was trying to tell you something? I wonder how many lives that kind of awareness has saved.

I'm sure that that type of cognizance takes a long time to cultivate and perfect. But just imagine the advantages to doing so. We've become such a society that is so obsessed with immediate satisfaction and results that we're waaaaaaaaaay too impatient to do what it takes to develop something like that. Something not right? Just pop a pill to fix it. See someone in need of help? Of course you don't because we're too caught up in our own lives to notice anyone else unless of course if they have something we covet.

If there's one thing I've learned from this video it's that "awareness" is VERY underestimated on all kinds of levels from watching out for cyclists to watching out for ourselves. That and to be wary of sneaky, moonwalking, pop locking, scene stealing bears in the hood.

(shout out to Leatherbelly for inspiring this post).

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Good Intentions


I’ve been watching reruns of the show, “Charmed” on TNT in the morning while I get ready for work and from what I’ve seen so far, I realize that my favorite character on the show is a half demon, half human named Cole. Cole is like the darkest, meanest most powerful demon in the underworld but in his heart he wants to be good. For a while, Cole was one of the good guys, working with the main characters of the show who happen to be witches. One of which happens to be Alyssa Milano who he is in love with and eventually married.

During the duration of their relationship, Milano and her sisters try their best to keep Cole’s dark side under wraps. So here he is fighting the good fight, protecting his soul mate while denying the dark demon side of himself. Eventually of course he loses control and turns to his demon ways, ending his marriage and relationship with Alyssa the good witch. BUT because he loves her so much he continues to do “good things” in the name of protecting the woman he loves.

So, that long introduction to a show you’ll probably never watch is just to give you an example of the type of characters that draw me to movies and television shows alike. The Counselor can easily spot who will be my favorite character when we’re watching something.

“He’s your favorite, because he’s the asshole”, I believe is the usual quote.

And she’s right. Characters like Cole, Sawyer from “Lost”, Riggins from “Friday Night Lights” and other reluctant heroes are the guys that make these shows interesting. They are the guys that do the right things for their own reasons and to me, that’s more realistic than the guy that does the right thing or saves the day just because it’s the right thing to do.

So, my question is…

“Does it matter?” If Cole saves Alyssa’s witch sisters from impending doom, not because he cares if they live or die, but because he cares about how Alyssa would feel if they died, is it any less heroic or “right”?

In the real world, aren’t we all motivated in some way by what will make us happy, comfortable, safe, fulfilled or satisfied? How many people walk around making decisions based solely on how that decision will affect other people? Don’t get me wrong, there are one or two Saints out there like that, but are you one of them?

I’m not the only one that likes these characters because if I was then there wouldn’t be one in every show or movie we see. Their appeal is their realism and how much of them we recognize in ourselves. These guys and girls have images to protect and barriers to keep up so their good deeds are often kept discreet or hidden usually from everyone but the recipient of the good deed. I don’t know about you, but I can definitely relate to that.

So, I’ll ask it again. If I reluctantly put my neck on the line for someone else, or begrudgingly save someone from harm does that make me a worse person than Sir Lancelot who does these things out of a sense of duty and honor?

Hmmmmm……….

-Kiyotoe

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

A Terrible Thing to Waste


I know you’ve heard it before but I’m going to say it again…

The mind is a powerful thing. Amazing even. This morning when I opened my eyes to the conscious world, I was standing outside the hall closet getting ready to open it and reach in for a bar of soap. The reason this was so amazing to me was because I instantly remembered hearing the Counselor’s voice calling to me from the bathroom and asking for assistance, but had no recollection at all of getting out of bed and walking into the hallway.

I could recall her voice clearly, even the tone in which she calmly asked for a new bar of soap. Her tone was soft and optimistic like she knew I was still asleep when she entered the shower, but gave it a try anyway hoping that maybe I would hear her.

And I did.

It reminded me of a conversation I had a long time ago with my high school buddies. We would walk the same 5 or 6 mile route home from high school everyday, laughing, discussing sports or girls and sometimes clowning around and before we knew it we’d be home. One day one of the fellas said:

“Y’all ever notice how we get home without even really trying? Like our feet are on some kind of autopilot and just carry us home while we concentrate on other stuff.”

First we laughed but then we stood there on the corner that normally was the point where we all went our separate ways home and we talked about it for another 20 or 30 minutes. Until that moment none of us had thought about the lack of effort or minimum focus it took to get home after walking the same route for so long. It really was like autopilot.

The mind is an amazing thing.

I guess it’s not much different from mother’s who have these amazing connections with their children and sometimes have that intuition when their kids are in trouble or hurt, etc., or how about clairvoyance or precognition? Then there are autistic children with magnificent gifts and young protégés who master the violin at age 3 or paint a masterpiece before they’re potty trained. How much of their minds are they using?

Is it possible that one day some little kid growing up somewhere off the beaten path, will innately tap into more of his brain’s potential than any other human has ever done before, allowing him gifts that we’ve only seen in movies and comic books? (I know, that was a long question.) Ultimately igniting an evolution of man that results in a being much more advanced than the “human being”.

Is that possible? Is Déjà vu’, premonition and “autopilot” small signs of what could be? Well as an ex-avid comic book reader and movie fanatic, I can only hope.

And with that being said, I wonder. When and if “we” do evolve and become more advanced beings, what happens to the parts of our brains that control the hate and the malice? Do those parts of our mind that make us fear that which is different and ignore the plight of others, just get smaller until they are obsolete or do they grow as we tap into unused corners of our minds? Is evolution what is necessary to cleanse ourselves of the ugly habits and behaviors that I’m sure helps to keep us mired in ten percent of our potential? If so, it’s a shame that none of us reading this will be around to see it happen.

I’m one of those people who believe that people don’t change. If you have hate in your heart now, then you’ll have hate in your heart later. You may get better at hiding it or even ignoring it, but it’s there. So hopefully, evolution, elevating to a whole new level of thinking and using our minds can change that and everything else that’s wrong with “us”. Hopefully.

And I still can’t believe that I heard her in my sleep.

The mind is an amazing thing.

- Kiyotoe

Monday, February 25, 2008

This Might Get Lengthy

As if our society needs anymore strikes against it, I just can’t stop myself from bringing up two issues that have piqued my interest the last couple of days.

#1 – For those that don’t know what the NFL combine is, allow me to explain. The combine is the annual slave auction….oops, I mean the annual event when representatives from all 32 NFL teams gather in Indianapolis to poke, prod, examine, interrogate, investigate, manipulate, measure, weigh, time, test, and do many other things the public isn’t privy to, to the current draft class of athletes leaving college in hopes of a pro football career.

Well apparently, this tried and true gridiron tradition is now televised for any interested fans/spectators to see. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing more interesting than watching hundreds of kids that are younger than me, run, jump, and lift weights over and over and over again. I mean, it’s great!

Sarcasm; n. A cutting, often ironic remark.

But I digress. As I discussed this with a fellow ex-football playing, “remember the glory days” type fellow, he made a good point when I asked why would anyone want to sit and watch this glorified meat market for hours at a time.

“Big business” he replied.

And that’s when the light went on. The only people that want to watch this are the people that can earn money from watching it. People like gamblers, bookies, fantasy sports operators, video game makers, etc. As is the case with just about everything these days, the almighty dollar has found a way to turn something as pure and as beautiful as the game of football…AMERICAN football into just another vice…AMERICAN vice.

Is anything sacred?

And #2 - WTF?! I saw a commercial yesterday for some drug (I can’t recall the name right now) and as they usually do at the end of those commercials the lady rambled off a list of side effects for taking the drug.

Here’s the rub.

“Side effects may include an increase in desire to have sex, an urge to gamble, an increase in violent mood swings and nausea.”

WHAT?!

And then the “hook” at the end of the commercial was, “so when that pain in your legs is persistent, try Metroveratexisanex” (or whatever it was called). So, you’re telling me that this drug for some leg pain (and I’m sure it’s more serious than just that) is so important that it’ll increase your penchant for vice and sin? All I want to know is, does the leg really hurt THAT bad?

My point here is that our culture/society has changed a whole lot since our babies rode in cars without baby seats, we drank water from the hose in the summer, ate all the junk in the world without getting fat because we played with our friends outside, we shared one juice with three friends and nobody died from sharing the bottle and so on and so on.

Times have changed and so have “we”. And the craziest part is that it looks like we’ve “got ourselves” (translation: we inflicted these things on ourselves). I remember writing a post a long time ago about how our universal laziness has lead to so many of our shortcomings and it’s true. We’ve gotten lazy and in turn we look for cures, not for the laziness, but for the repercussions of our laziness.

Make sense?

Plastic surgery, crash diets, dangerous prescription drugs, dangerous over the counter drugs, performance enhancing drugs, are only some of the ways to counteract the ill effects of our own laziness and each has it’s own hazardous side effects that we then would need another remedy for. I’m not old enough to legitimately say “I remember when life was simple”…but being born in ’76 I think I can at least say, “I remember when life was simpler” and I miss those days, back when EVERYTHING wasn’t about big business, and if your leg hurt you’d rub some dirt on it and call it a day.

Can’t get much simpler than that.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

The Transition


Of all the complaints I have about getting older, i.e., aches and pains, stiffness, more trips to the doctor, earlier bedtimes, stricter diet, among many others, I never realized until recently how much pressure there was associated with getting older.

Seems to me that the older I get the more pressure there is to make decisions, do the right thing, know what to say, stay in touch, be responsible, be accountable, protect, encourage, motivate, set a good example, lead, follow, let them know how you feel, be the voice of reason, and I could go on and on but you get the picture.

Life was so simple when all the “heavy lifting” of life was left to the grown ups. When something was wrong, I let my parents handle it and I stayed in my room until somebody told me what to do. It wasn’t my job or my place to make decisions or solve any problems. And now it feels like those occasions just won’t stop popping up all around me.

I’ve gotten older and I’m learning that not only do I have questions of my own, but other people have questions that they expect me to answer, roles that they expect me to fulfill, responsibilities that they expect me to handle and it doesn’t matter that I didn’t ask for it, or sign any binding contracts. It comes with the territory.

No longer a boy, I can’t just turn the other cheek when something bad happens just because it’s the path of least resistance. At some point recently I realized that there are things that I just don’t want to hear, see, or think about. But I’ve also realized that whether I look, listen or think about them, they won’t go away or be resolved until I “man up” and do a little of that “heavy lifting” for someone else.

It’s a good thing I’ve been working out.


Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.” – Kevin Arnold (The Wonder Years)

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Can I Get Sued for This?


So I’m coming out of my cave because something has been rubbing me the wrong way for a couple of weeks now.

No, it’s not the New England Patriots and their quest to be perfect (I vote to put an asterisk next to whatever they accomplish this year).

It’s not the petty yet entertaining little feud developing between Obama and Bill’s wife (I’m sorry, was that sexist? I meant Obama and Mrs. Clinton).

It’s Tiger Woods and the whole “lynching/noose on the cover” issue. Now let me start by saying that I have never been a Tiger fan but this pretty much solidifies that lingering mushy disdain I had for him. Now I have been accused of “hating” on the man and my response to that is always “why”? Why would I waste the energy “hating” Tiger just because of his success? There are probably millions of people in the world who have bigger bank accounts, nicer cars, more square footage and less debt than I do.

Good for them. I’m not the one that knocks people for what they have, especially if they’ve earned it.

No, I knock Tiger because from day one he’s made it abundantly clear to everyone that no matter what we see, or what labels we attach to him, he wants no part of being black.

Let me finish before some of you jump to his defense.

That whole “caublacasian” crap he came up with to describe his ethnicity is just that…crap. Sorry Tiger but here in America, oops, I mean here on planet Earth as long as you have that complexion and that grade of hair, “they” will always consider you Black, regardless of what silly Dr. Seuss name you come up with for yourself.

Now I even tried to give Woods the benefit of the doubt saying that maybe he just wanted to acknowledge all the different parts of his background. It could be admirable that he wants to recognize all of his ancestry equally. But if that’s the case, he still gets a failing grade from the part of his ancestry that looks like me. Recent events have made it perfectly clear that Tiger is probably more at home with his Swedish in-laws than with his black grandparents.

Dear Tiger,
#1 – so what if you’re good friends with the white girl that made the lynching comment. She was white and the word “slipped” while she was trying to be witty. Newsflash, words don’t just “slip” out of your mouth if they’re not actively swimming around in your head and come to think of it, I’m not sure even the most eloquent or articulate speakers use that word in everyday banter.

In other words, check your friends. At least give the rest of us non “caucablafricasians” the benefit of questioning her use of the word. It’s a little insulting to the rest of us when you just shrug it off.

And #2 – The cool nonchalant attitude you have on display whenever you’re asked about the noose incident is tired T.G. I am an advocate of maintaining a cool, calm and level headed demeanor as much as possible, it’s healthier. HOWEVER, “it was regrettable, they’ve apologized, I’m ready to move on” just ain’t cutting it this time. The editor of the golfing magazine that published the noose on it’s cover was fired, cool but your work is not done. Say something about how insensitive it was. Say something about how insulted you were that the official magazine for the sport you single handedly thrust into the international spotlight could be so careless.

But no, you didn’t say any of that. You shrugged your shoulders and said “I’m caublacoocoo” or whatever, as if that means it didn’t bother you, which it probably didn’t, but it bothered some of us and unfortunately there are countless numbers of people out there that look to you as a role model and a hero and you’ve let them down.

And you, nor they even realize it.

Thank God for football, no “caucanegronasians” allowed. Sucker.

I’m going back to my cave.