Tuesday, August 30, 2011


I'm not a big concert going guy, but I am a big fan of music.  In my life, I've only been to a few concerts.  However, in September I'm going to see three bands.  I thought I'd share some of their music with you.

Friday, August 26, 2011


This will almost be like a session with a therapist for me.  One take.  Here we go.

I have a lot of mixed feelings when it comes to dancing.  I'm not really sure why.  When I say I have "feelings" that's really what I mean.  I have feelings about dancing, not really composed thoughts.  So I thought I would talk out my feelings and see where this takes me.

Sometimes I really hate dancing.  When people start dancing I get extremely uncomfortable.  And even though this sounds weird, I start to get resentful of the people who seem to be having a good time.  I actually get upset that they are having fun dancing and I feel stuck on the sidelines.  I wish I could actually dance like them but at the same time I don't want to join them.  I don't have any dance co-ordination and I don't know all those dances like it seems everyone else does.  It's odd to say I wish I could dance, and yet I don't want to dance.  I admit I had my tragic dance incident way back when I was 11 years old and maybe that has traumatized me to some extent.  I don't like being the center of attention and for some reason I feel that if I were to dance everyone would be staring at me.  Just the thought makes me nervous enough to start sweating.  I'd rather be the only one left on the side lines than dance with everyone else and feel like they were staring at me.  I often wonder if I could dance if I would feel differently.

And I have issues with my personal space and touching and being touched.  I am uncomfortable when I feel others are in my space.  But at the same time I like receiving hugs because in my mind it is a socially acceptable way to breach my bubble for at least a tiny moment in time.  Dancing seems to violate my personal space and my touching issues for way too long.

I suppose there's also some kind of romantic connotations to dancing as well.  Not that this always the case, but I am not comfortable asking females to dance because in my mind it implies something that I don't want implied. I know that isn't necessarily the case but that association seems to be stuck in my head for some reason.

And sometimes I like dancing.  I like the Napoleon Dynamite dance.  When I'm alone, or playing an instrument I tend to move to the music.  I don't know if that's considered dancing but that's about all the dancing I do.  To get a girl to notice me while in Bible College, I actually joined our dance troupe.  Talk about out of character.  I did ok with choreographed moves simply because I could practice them over and over and over until I was like a machine.  (I had to practice way more than the other members.  Dancing did not come easy for me.  I wonder if it was because I was so out of practice or if it was something else.)  And when I am stuck at those receptions where everyone is dancing and having a good time I am jealous.  I wish I could be like them.  I wish I could dance.

And then there's worship.  Some of the most beautiful things I've seen are people worshiping through dance.  I don't get it.  I can't do it.  I don't want to do it.  And yet there's something special there.  This may sound funny but I've actually tried to research dancing as worship just to understand it.  I still don't get it.

And then there's gatherings of friends.  One particular night most of the people I was hanging out with started dancing.  I was so uncomfortable.  Luckily there was another non-dancer in the group that kept me company on the sidelines.  It blew my mind how everyone actually seemed to want to dance.  It confused me.  Why would people want to do that?  Without exaggerating, I would rather go see the dentist than have to dance.  And yet there was a little part of me begging and pleading to be like them, almost wishing that they'd drag me along.  However, I'd probably resent them if they did.  Catch 22.  I don't even understand me.

So where does this leave me?  I don't know.  I wish I could dance.  Then, when I don't dance, at least it would be my choice.  That sounds stupid.  It doesn't even make sense to me and yet that's how I feel.  I like dance but it leaves me feeling resentful.  I don't understand why people dance.  Maybe if it made sense to me I'd "get it".  I prefer being a wallflower to dancing and yet I was in a dance troupe.  I don't know if this has helped me at all but at least I talked it out.  I'm reminded of the saying, "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt."  I've opened my mouth now and revealed my foolishness.  I guess this is convoluted enough to publish.

Thursday, August 18, 2011


My brother has been reading the Book of Awesome.  Although it's not my kind of reading, I gather what I'm about to write is similar to that book.

Life is really good.  Sometimes it's the big things that seem to make life grand.  Sometimes it's the little things that fill in the minutia of living.  Here is a collection of oddball things that make my life really good some times.

-getting a string of green lights in a row while driving
-getting a promotion unexpectedly
-helping others
-freshly vacuumed carpet
-the fresh smell after it rains
-freshly baked bread
-fresh pineapple
-wrapping myself in a towel straight from the dryer
-no mosquitoes
-ice cream
-true worship
-nice surprises
-sweating after a work out
-dancing (although not how you're probably thinking about it.  There's a post coming about this.)
-a clean bathroom
-bike riding
-snow boarding
-finding out my favourite band is coming to town
-stretching after waking up
-not waking up to an alarm clock
-shiny things
-learning something new
-thinking things
-sitting in the dark
-stars on summer nights
-the northern lights
-time alone
-time with friends
-unconditional love

Thursday, August 11, 2011


Time is going by so fast. Summer is already on it's way out and I barely noticed it was here. The common refrain, "Where has the time gone?" is becoming a part of my lexicon more and more. And I don't like it.

I remember growing up, seeing my dad so busy all the time. It felt like he rarely had time for anything but work. I promised myself that when I grew up I would never be as busy as he was. And now here I am wondering where all the time has gone. I pride myself on my scheduling and organizational abilities but I feel like I keep forgetting to schedule a little me time. I guess the next step is to prioritize the things in my life. First things first, so to speak. I need to catch my breath before my busy-ness overwhelms me.

I need time for me and I need time for God.  It feels like the busier I get the more those two items get pushed to the bottom of my list.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Good Day

Dear Diary,

Today is a good day.  Most are.  Today is gooder than most.

I got a super promotion at work I wasn't really expecting.

And this afternoon I got a surprise call from my old friends up North.  They are in town tonight and we're going to get together.  There are few people I find I miss.  There are few people I find leave me energized after spending time with them.  These people fit both those categories.

It is definitely a good day.