It is all about the whakapapa

I have a very patient family.  On the outside they wouldn't seem patient.  Genetically we all have voices that resonate very well, therefore we sound very loud.  It can be a nice thing when you are trying to locate a family member.  If I'm looking for my dad at work and he isn't in his office I listen.  I listen for his voice or his whistling.  If he is in the building I can usually find him.  Anyways my family is very patient.  I feel like they are all waiting for me to actually do something. They don't abandon me the way many other people would.  Productivity is definitely not a large part of my life.  I'd much rather relax than do something strenuous.  For me strenuous activities include but are not limited to: School, work, yard work, driving, cooking, waking up, and occasionally grooming myself.  Yet even with all my faults and my inactivity with life I still have a family.  They encourage me and patiently wait for the day when I'll get up and do something worth while in my life. In the mean time this is what my family does for me.

 Josh and Mary bring home the bacon/Milk (there is nothing like a good gallon of milk). Jenny makes sure I go to class.  Mom makes sure I have a job.  Kaleb gives me friendship and understanding (Lately I've called him my absentee wingman). Ethan gives me 9 year old harassment (in a loving way), I usually return my 9 year old harassment.  Hannah lets me see an outside perspective on my life (every day I see more ways that hannah and I are alike).  Dad saves me from my financial mishaps.  Of course they all encourage and support me.  Hopefully I can return the favor.  I love my family and couldn't live without them.

Gradually I find myself changing my attitude towards life (very slowly).  I currently have a job I enjoy, I'm still in school, I've chosen a major, and with my families patient help I'm becoming a better person.  

To close my ode to this wonderful family I would like to say "It is all about the whakapapa".

Finding myself

Today I went to a friends missionary farewell. He talked a lot. It was really nice. At one point he was talking about being yourself without letting other people tell you what you are. I took a look around and saw some of my closest friends. All of us are very different. The beautiful thing is we look different, we act different, we are each individually different. Yet even as weird as any of them can be, I know that they are my friends. I value each one for different reasons. It is the differences that make it a pleasure to have friends. I'm glad I can say that I have a group of friends that don't pretend to be something other than themselves. And I'm glad that they don't try to make me into something that isn't me. At the farewell I was able to look around and see that I am who I want to be and I still have friends.

Burn Notice

I can feel it slowly decaying my resolve.
It is like a vacuum sucking my brain out through my eyeballs, ears and nostrils.
My energy is gone, happiness is next.
Hope trickles away like a drop of rain in the desert.
I want to scream and run away.
I want my life to lead me from this captivity.
I'm stuck in a box with plain white walls, nothing more, nothing less.
Eat, sleep, go to school, work, eat sleep, go to school, work, eat, sleep, go to school, work,
No dreams, no freedom
The anger inside is building. Soon I will have rickety shed inside my soul.
I can feel it slowly decaying my resolve.

The other day I told myself a bed time story. It went like this:

Once upon a time there was a king, his name was King Juan. King Juan was not a very good king. He liked to smoke pot. Smoking pot is bad for you. He was a bad king so he made a law that said you had to smoke pot too. His whole country smoked pot because of the law, except for one man. His name was little Sue. Yes, he was a man. His parents had really wanted a girl, but they got him. So they named him Little Sue. Little Sue refused to smoke pot, because pot is bad. Little Sue was thrown in Jail by King Juan. King Juan was going to have Little Sue hung because he wouldn't smoke pot. But the night before Little Sue hung, King Juan died. He overdosed on Pot. Because Pot is bad and it kills. King Juan didn't have any heirs, but he did have a close friend. His friend was voted as King. His name was King Ferny. King Ferny was also a bad man. He wasn't a very good king either. He really liked to drink alcohol. One day King Ferny made it a law that you had to drink alcohol. Little Sue was thrown in Jail again! He wouldn't drink alcohol or smoke pot. The night before Little Sue hung, King Ferny died in a car crash. He was drunk. All the people didn't know what to do. They no longer had a king. They all took a vote and guess who they voted to be king. Not Little Sue. But guess what. Little Sue was sick of being sent to Jail. So Little Sue said he was King. He also said that you don't vote for a king, the king is just king, so he was king. The people couldn't think of anything to say. All their brain cells were dead, because of all the pot and alcohol they consumed. So Little Sue became King of all the land. The end.

Running

Swirling blues and greens, reds and yellows, colors of every kind. Constantly forming different patterns, shapes, and sounds. Every blade of grass, every slab of cement is unique in ways untold. A heightened awareness of the surrealistic environment emanates through every fiber of the universe. This isn’t a Picasso or Michelangelo; this is a different type of masterpiece. This is running.
With an untold fury our bodies scream. They warn us of how close we are to the source of all things. In those precious moments we reach a potential hidden inside all of us. We become one, not many, but one magnificent world. The chaos and stress seep from our beings. Peace saturates everything, from head to toe. No longer do we worry about tomorrow, instead we focus on the present.
This wondrous experience won’t be priceless. Our bodies pay for every passing second. Fiery side aches will be our plague, as well as torn muscles and bruised feet. For many the price will be unbearable, but that isn’t a mistake. All of life’s greatest treasures have hefty fines.
Eventually our bodies will tire. The moment will pass. Once again we will awaken to the noise and the distractions. Although we awake, never again will we go back to what we were. We will feel a longing to experience the sense of cohesiveness once more. This longing will come from the very depths of our soul. How can we refuse, once again we will embark upon the perilous adventure of running.