Reality bites.

My reality, the things I have experienced, and how I respond to them, may not be the same as yours. Your reality, the things you have experienced, and how you've responded to them, may not be the same as mine. They may not look anything alike. They may look very similar. 

Help me understand your reality. I want to have my bubble burst. I want my paradigm to shift. I want my soap box to burn. I want to learn how your journey has shaped you. I want to learn how you handled having your reality shaken, shattered, and stirred. I want you to shake, shatter, and stir my reality. It's called empathy. 

I want to learn how you got through things. I want to learn more about why I'm listening to you. I want a glimpse into your reality. This is the importance of honesty. This is the importance of being real. Honesty is reality. 

I had my reality rocked last night. I learned things that I didn't know about some of my friends. They were real with me. They helped me understand another reality. That's why they're my friends. 

I am trying to realize that the more I live, the more I interact with people, the more chances I have to shape reality. Everyday, time after time, I have the chance to change my reality. I also have the chance to shape other people's reality. The choices I make affect the realities of those I'm around. 

If I can't look at myself, and my reality with honesty, what good am I? If I'm unwilling to be honest with other people about my reality, and if no one is willing to be honest with me about the accuracy of my perception, what do I really have? 

I am blessed. I have people that are real with me. I have people in my life that are honest. I have been protected from many of the realities of this world. There are realities that I will never understand. There are some that I will never even hear of. It's a big world. But, I want to improve my reality. And I want to improve the realities of the people around me. 

For me, the best way to do that is to be honest. I have to look past my comfort level and get real with myself and with other people. It's hard. It requires a lot of trust. It requires entering into relationships. That's scary stuff. But it's real. And I think it's the only way to affect true change. In myself, in my reality, and in the lives and realities of others. 

"What we do in life echoes in eternity."

Dinner? Everyone?

OK? So, there's an interesting thing that happens when people go out to eat here? Part of me likes it, and part of me wonders about it? Bear with me...this one may take some connective genius on your part?

Let's say there's a group of 10 of you and your friends. You all decide to go eat. You pick a reasonably priced restaurant and head that way. Once there, everyone decides what to get. Long story short, you receive a bill for the goods and services you consumed. 

(On a VERY interesting cultural side-note: In Italy, the check will not be dropped unless you ask for it or unless you're being kicked out. It's considered rude to deliver a check, and receiving the bill before you ask for it means they are either closing, or saying goodbye. Let me say; I like this. Meal sharing is an important part of the culture here. None of that crap that I am guilty of pulling: "Folks, NO rush here! Just going to set this down, whenever you're ready, I'll be your cashier...." Subtitles, get out of my section so I can make more money. The Italians take time and share meals. I like it. Anyway, this is the close of one digression.) 

The total of the bill comes to 100 Euros. What happens next is interesting. Everyone pulls out 10 Euros. The bill is covered. The evening goes wherever it goes from there? The bill is divided evenly among the party. Here is sort of where your connective genius may be required...And some forgiveness with my math WILL BE required...

What happens if 7 people at the table got a personal pizza that cost 10 Euros, 2 people got a 5 Euro salad and 1 person got a 20 Euro steak? Well. This is sort of where the plot thickens? Say Captain T-Bone didn't tell anyone what he/she was getting before everyone ordered? Say they don't offer to pay a little extra at the end? (Another digression...This hasn't happened to me yet, but I'm trying to prove a point...) Is it wrong for them to order what they want? Is it wrong for the other people to expect them to pay a little more for what they got?

Wouldn't the whole thing be avoided if everyone ordered whatever they wanted and then paid for their own food? That way, everyone gets what they want. That way, everyone pays for what they got. 

Is it nice that everyone chips in and makes it easier for math and all that? Yeah. Is it cool that when you are with friends, and you share, everything works a little more smoothly? Yeah. Is it "fair" that if you know the bill is going to be split up, you may be shy and not really get what you want? Is it "fair" to be considered a jack-ass for not caring, and ordering whatever you want regardless of how it's going to be covered? 

Again, when you're with friends and family, these things are a lot easier to figure out. What happens if the restaurant decided that everyone's bills were going to be combined and the cost divided equally? While everyone would pay a little less, how would you feel buying a stranger's 30 Euro meal, when you were polite, and got a 5 Euro salad? The over all cost may only be 12 Euros for everyone in the restaurant, but why are you buying anyone else's meal? Especially a strangers'? 

If you knew the bill was going to be paid for by someone else, wouldn't you order the most expensive meal that looked the best? And dessert? And a nice bottle of wine? I would. Would you feel guilty about it? Would I? Is that "fair"? Is that the "greater good"? Everyone chips in, everyone pays something, everyone eats? Why not order whatever you want to eat, and pay for your own meal? 

Have any connective synapsis fired yet? 

Holding the bag...

Wow. So. This is fun. No power in Rome. It's really not too big of a deal? The situation putting me in this situation is where I find my biggest annoyance. 

The land lady had a 2 months' advance in rent, as a deposit from the last tenant. She was supposed to use that deposit to pay off all of the remaining bills. By law, she is supposed to have that deposit on hand, seeing how it is a "Deposit" meaning it is supposed to be returned. Evidently, she spent the money on something else. 

Because electricity isn't free, there were past bills that weren't paid. I paid a bill yesterday that was from 2008. Needless to say, I wasn't living here then. SO, I paid her bills her for her.I actually paid 5 different bills for her. I came home from work on Wed to find that my power was out.

In my crazy mind, I would think that getting all of the bills paid and copies of the paid bills faxed to the power company would result in my power being turned back on. Low and behold...No. I paid her bills and faxed the copies to the power company by 8:30 yesterday morning. In any normal place, the power would have been back on when I returned home from work at 3:30. Not here. 

I was told I had to wait at my apartment for someone to come turn it on this morning. I waited. They showed up. Did they ring the buzzer for me to let them up? No! It's an "electric buzzer..." So, in summation; I've paid someone else's bills and I still have no power. On a positive note, the food in my fridge doesn't stink, so maybe it'll still be good? 

I'm going to deduct the paid bills from next months rent. I'm also going to deduct the lost money from the room guests that had to be moved. I'm strongly considering deducting groceries. And, on top of that, a little hidden tax for the massive pain in my ass this has become. I missed work today, waiting for the power company. 

I'm struggling to understand how Italy is in the "G8"? How can one of the 8 most industrialized countries in the world be this inefficient? Is the rest of the world that shitty? I have struggled, since getting here, with the lack of organization in this country.

Let me be clear about this one thing: I am operating from an American perspective. I am also trying to understand cultural differences. I am really, really struggling, to understand "Italian Business Ethics." I have NO idea where there M.O. for business is coming from? Nothing about how things are run here seems to make sense to me? That's fine. Maybe this is pushing me to learn? 

I don't understand how, if, they can turn my power off when I'm not there, why can't they turn it on when I am there? Why don't the people in the field have walkie-talkies, or even cell phones? 

Dispatch: "Hey Guiseppe, can you get to VillaFranca and flip the power on? Thanks."

Guiseppe: "Yeah. I'm over on Cavour, but I'll head there as soon as I'm finished here."

Ugh. Alas, I am without power. Again, the power isn't the real issue in my mind. The fact that I am the one left holding the bag because my land lady is a dumb bitch is what gets me. The fact that I had to lose house guests-who pay my rent-because of her, is annoying. The fact that I had to get up early, yesterday, and pay her bills bothers me. The fact that I am missing work is....well, bitter sweet. Buying more groceries because of her problem is not the most comforting thought. 

But. At the end of the day, I can get over this. Yes. I'm pissed. Yes. I said things, and thought things, that probably were not the kindest. I am human. I make mistakes. As does my land lady. Perhaps, I can find it in my heart to forgive her? Perhaps...We'll see. 

I'm trying to get to the root of why not having power for a few days is bothering me this much? It's not like it's put a damper on my social life? I'm not really that upset about losing house guests? An extra day off work is never a bad thing? It was almost time to hit the grocery store anyway? 

Maybe it's the principle of the thing? Maybe it's getting punished for someone else's screw up? Maybe it's the fact that something that should so easily be fixed is turning into a 3 day ordeal...at least? Maybe I'm incapable of compassion or forgiveness? Maybe I'm sick and tired of Rome? I don't really know? Maybe it's all of that stuff? Maybe it's a lot more? Maybe it's none of it? 

All I know is this: Not having power isn't that big of a deal. Get over it, Daniel. Stop whining. It's annoying, even to me. Of all the things in this world, this is probably not one to get pissed about. Take a deep breath and enjoy living in Rome. I'm sorry-to whomever is reading this-that you have to listen to me vent. I'm sure there are things going on in your life that would crush my petty little power problem. I hope you are coping with your life better than I seem to be coping with mine. 

haha! Wow. After some proofreading, I'm basically throwing a tantrum that I'm not getting my way. Life happens. Perhaps I can look at a bigger picture? Perhaps I can try to re-focus on things that matter? Perhaps I just wasted a lot of your time and mine? I hope you are not dumber for having read this...I hope it finds you well!

Ok. SO...Obviously it's been a bit since I've posted anything? It's not that I haven't had anything to say. It's not that things haven't been really cool lately. Here's a brief summation:

I went to Croatia. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It was an amazing vacation. I just relaxed. I spent time on the beach, climbed a little bit, ate some awesome Croatian food, stared at some of the best sunsets I've ever seen, star gazed, read, wrote, meditated, prayed, and un-wound. It was great. 

That was the first time I've ever visited a foreign country on my own. Traveling solo is really neat. While it would have been great to share that time with someone, I was able to do the things I wanted to do. I was able to be selfish. I was able to spend some time in solitude. 

When I moved to Europe, I was hoping to get to a point where I could spend time alone. That has always been a fear of mine; being alone. The problem I had with solitude is the fact that there is always someone there. Me. I don't always like myself, and I've always had a harder time loving myself. I guess solitude is one of those things, like so many others, that takes a few times to get used to. Being alone is now something I desire to make a big part of my life. That's a miracle. 

I'm also realizing how amazing the opportunity to move Europe is, was, and will be. I think one of the most amazing things about it, is the fact that I have NO PRESSURE. My friends and family encouraged me to come here. No matter how long I stay, I am still loved and accepted. Even if I "fail" the people who love me, still love me. That takes any perceived pressure off of me. There's no pressure to perform. I can just live life. I can live loved. And it's good. 

Learning to be loved, Part 2.

I want to talk a little bit about my insanity in the terms of religion. I want to start by saying that in no way, shape, or form is this anyone’s fault. I blame no one. I’m angry with no one. I just missed it. I missed the basic, foundational truth. Missing that truth caused me to repeat the same actions, many times, expecting a different outcome. I call that insanity.

The foundational truth I missed is the foundation of relationships. The Relationship that matters more than anything else. It’s the foundation of the universe. It’s the foundation of religion. It’s the foundation of my existence. It’s the foundation, in every since of the word. It is the definition of the word. I am loved by my Creator. You are loved by your Creator. I was created out of love. You were created out of love. Every single day on this planet is a gift, based in love. Everything I endure in this life is a gift, based in love.

I bastardized religion. I offended and hurt a lot of people. I drove people away from Love. I did this with great intentions. I did it because I thought I “was supposed” to. I thought that I was “being a good Christian.” It’s really hard to tell people about the love of the Creator when I didn’t truly believe the same Creator loved me. But I tried. It’s also really hard to tell people how full the Bible is of stories of love when you’re knocking them across the head, heart, and soul with the same book. I was never able show them any type of love or compassion when that’s all I needed to extend to them. To those people, I apologize.

I thought that God’s love for me was based on how many people I “got saved.” I thought His love for me was based on how often I went to church, read the Bible, or did other “things” that a good Christian “should do.” It wasn’t until recently that the focus of my life went from a place of mistrust to a place of trust.

There have been a few times in my life that I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t see the point of life. I didn’t think it made any sense. The fact that “It’s always one more thing…” drove me crazy. I thought that happiness was a fallacy. I didn’t think it existed. It seemed to me like life was nothing but a rut. You’re born, you “grow up,” you get a job, you get married, you die. What’s the point? That was the only question I had. What’s the point?

There have been times in my life when I reached the end of my rope. I was physically, mentally, emotionally, and chemically depressed. It’s a scary place. Very scary. The last time I was at this point was in April. I was ready to die. I cried. A lot.

I guess I’ll just tell the story? Last summer, around July, I started a relationship. This girl and I have known each other for a while, lost touch, got re-connected and began a relationship. I wanted it to work. I had just gone through a year of sobriety, so surely, this would be my reward. If anyone read my blog posting about longing for fulfillment in a relationship, this is the latest, and by the grace of God, last example.

Excluding many long details, the relationship ended. This is only a small part of the problem. I had just graduated college, celebrated a year of sobriety, had job applications out, and my apartment lease was ending. All of the stars are aligning. Everything is meeting up perfectly at this point. All of these roads are merging, ending, and beginning. I thought it was all under control.

I had no idea what was coming. As far as jobs went, graduation, lease ending, and a relationship, I had no idea what was coming. I was excited. I was scared. I was depressed. I wanted to kill myself. I told my parents this. My mind was made up. I had the whole scenario planned. I was going to leave my girlfriend’s, go to my storage unit, get my shotgun, and head to the hospital.

I wanted to be at the hospital so they could harvest my organs ASAP. The last and only decision I was making, and hadn’t made yet, was whether or not I should call my parents and tell them, or let the doctor tell them. Luckily, as I was saying goodbye to my girlfriend, she picked up on it. She scared me enough to keep me alive for the day. I called my parents and headed home a few days later for a while.

When I got home, in September, I was in a pretty dark and scary place. I started seeing a psychiatrist and taking a lot of anti-depressants. Part of the reason I was so depressed is because I had stopped taking my meds about 3 months prior. I scared a lot of people. I should have checked myself in somewhere. By the grace of God, I was spared. I have since stopped taking my meds, and I’m  hoping for the best. It’s been really good.

I got home in the first part of September and it’s best thing that has happened to me. While I was home, I suffered with another serious depression in April. It’s odd how some depressions are emotional, some physical, other mental/chemical, and then, of course spiritual. The one that brought me home was physical, mental, and emotional. Not a bad combo?

The last, was of course all of them. Worse than I had ever experienced any of them. I’ve had them all separately. I’ve had two at a time, and three at a time. I’ve somehow made it through. They are all different depressions. The last was something I had never imagined. I had given up. Totally. I completely lost hope. I truly believed that God did not love me. I thought He was a sadist. I thought He chose whoever He wanted to love and, literally, to hell with the rest.

I struggled with so much guilt, self-hatred, shame, self-condemnation, and self-destruction. I can’t really explain how bad it was. I don’t think I need to. I think if anyone has been near there, they know. I think if anyone is there, they know. I think if you have NO idea what I’m talking about, you don’t need to know. It’s awesome that you don’t.

I asked, one night, as close to the end as I could get: “God. If You really love me, why do I hate myself and everything about me? Why is this life so fucking pointless? Why do I feel so guilty and ashamed?” He answered in a way only He can. He said: “Daniel. I DO love you. Why do you hate yourself so much? Why do you feel so guilty and ashamed?”

I was looking for a place of rest. I wanted a timeout. I just wanted it ALL to stop, just for a minute. I wanted the stress, fear, anxiety, self-hatred, depression, anger, rage, apathy, and hopelessness to just stop for 30 seconds. I needed a timeout and couldn’t get one. I was asking for however much faith it would take to give me rest. I didn’t care how much faith it took I just wanted a rest. I needed a break. I found it.

When He told me He loved me, and I tried, just a little bit, to believe Him, I found a little peace. It was such a brief pause, but it was there. I asked for more faith, and then I just started saying, “You love me? I’ll try to believe that. Help my unbelief. You love me. You love me!?” It was and is a constant, and daily battle to go from a place of not trusting Him to trusting Him. The more I rest in that trust, the more peace I find. The more I trust that He loves me, and the more I trust that nothing changes that, the more I realize the daily grind isn’t as bad. The more simple I keep it, the more sense it makes. He loves me. That’s all. I’m just going to believe that and hang out there. God loves me. 

It’s not about religion. It’s not about rules. It’s about trying, every day, hour, and minute to build a relationship with the One who loves me. Not because I have to. The only reason I am able to believe that He loves me, is because He loves me. That simple awareness is a gift from the bounties of His love for me. That makes things a lot easier.

It makes it a lot easier to mess up and not hate myself. It makes it a lot easier to love my family, friends, and people I meet. It makes it a lot easier to look myself in the mirror at the end of the day. I am loved. I am loved, perfectly, truly, madly, and eternally. I am loved beyond ALL reason, common sense, and justice.

I hit the end of rope because I thought I had tried everything in this life, from Bible banging, to partying, to sobriety, and everything in between. I thought I had done everything I could to drive God, family, friends, and anyone else away. I found out that I was wrong. I found out that in spite, and despite of all the destructive decisions I had made, I was still loved. I also found out what it was like to make all the decisions that I used to condemn people for making.

Now, I can look at the people in my past, and understand how I hurt them. I know what decisions feel like. I know what they look like. I learned how to empathize. I learned where and what my mistakes were. I am learning where and what they are now. I know I owe a lot of people apologies. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to extend to you the same grace that has been extended to me. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to extend any type of grace at all. I’m sorry I was a self-righteous ass hole. I’m sorry for crushing your spirit, stealing from you, and making you feel like you were anything other than loved.

I want to live at peace with myself and with others. I am able to be at peace when I simply acknowledge that my Creator loves me. Because of His love for me, I need to love other people. Because He accepts me, I need to accept other people. Because of His love and acceptance of me, I need to love and accept myself. I HAVE to trust that He loves and accepts me. I GET to trust that. I am loved. 

I forget to remember...

So. Tomorrow will mark my 6th week in Rome, Italy. That's a really long time. I have a few more to go, though. I am planning on being here for at least a year. I am thinking I will probably come home at the end of next summer? But, who knows. That's a really long time away.

This has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss home. I miss a lot of things. I also MISS a lot of things. I miss them when I become too busy. When my mind is busy, or my hands are busy, or my heart is busy. I find it easy to miss life.

I'm not talking about being lazy or sedintary all the time. I'm talking about finding a tranquil place to live life. I'm talking about finding peace in the midst of the mess. My friend has a climb he calls "Pursuit of Peace." I want to get on that "problem" when I get back to MO. But I want to get on my problem of the pursuit of peace, right now.

Another friend of mine has a song, "Dark Hotel."
"Oh, Lord, give me peace.
And put my sorry singing sad ole soul at ease.
Bring me hope, I need a little, just a little."

The Lord has given me peace. He has given me hope. It's really hard for me to remember them, and cling to them everyday. It's hard for me to keep my life at the simple place of love. It's hard for me to remember that I have a safe place. It's hard for me to reside in the house of love and peace. It's where I want to be.

I want to find the things in this life that usher me into the Presence of Peace, to the Prince of Peace. I'm trying to learn, to live, and to love. I'm trying to learn to live and I'm trying to learn to love. All the while, life happens.

DEPORT THIS!

Ok. Here's the story of my deportation threat.

I work illegally. I gather people for tours. It's a straight cash, under the table, no taxes, straight commission job. No Italians want to it. Mother-tongue English speakers are preferred. I just talk to people. I give them info about our tour, hope they sign up, and make money. I'm not supposed to be doing it. I'm "supposed" to have a work Visa. I am allowed 90 days in the EU before I get in trouble for being here. (The way around that is to go to a country that's not in the EU.)

It's NOTHING like the situation in America with Mexicans! Except for the EXACT opposite. I work for cash, do jobs citizens don't want to, send money back home, and try my best to avoid the authorities. I digress.

I usually have a pretty good idea when the cops are coming, so when they do, I take a seat. I sometimes put the flyers in my pocket and act like I'm looking at St. Peter's Basilica. No worries. Well, mid-sales pitch today a cop walks right up to me. I had a few options. I could: 

1. Run. 

2. Change my conversation mid-sentence and ask them if they know where "When In Rome Tours" is meeting, I can't find my tour guide?

3. Just keep going and take the ticket.

I opted to stand there and take it. He asked for my passport. I gave him a photocopy. Who carries their passport all day everyday? If you're smart, you don't risk losing it. He took me across the piazza. I looked around for some of my fellow gatherers to tell them to tell my boss what was happening. Immediately to my left was my boss walking with another of our gatherers. They got her too. On her birthday. Ooops. 

They sat in their little mobile station and talked for a while. They called me in (felt eerily like going into the principals office). They said if they see me again, they'll cuff me, put me in a 24-48 hour holding cell and start the deportation process. 

Here's what I really think. They were trying to scare me. I didn't even get a ticket! Let me say this, however. They scared the piss out of me!! I tried to play it off, but, yeah, I cried down my leg a little bit. I don't really think they will deport me. For a number of reasons, one of which is the simple fact that Italians are too damn lazy to fill out that paper work. Another is the fact that deporting an American, thus ending my ability to enter the EU for 8 years, for gathering for tours would probably draw some international raised eyebrows. 

All that aside, I decided to take the rest of the week off. I was having a good day today, too! I already had 6 people on a tour! In case you're wondering, that's 60 euros, tax free commission. Not a bad gig. 

I'm learning some interesting lessons. One of which is that I think I now support amnesty for Mexicans. Let's make them pay a fine, register to become citizens, put them on a probationary timeline to register and obey the law. Then, all the money they make can be taxed to go to pay for Obama's $1.5 trillion health care plan which is part of the problem "they" created by overusing our medical system without paying. Seems like a good idea to me? Let me also say, I love Mexicans! They are hard-working and good people.

Another thing I'm learning is that people are people. From every single inhabited place on this planet, people are people. There are great people out there. There are ass holes out there. There are people that I will never understand why they were created. There are people that make me grateful they were. I'm glad I'm not the Judge. I'm glad I'm not God. I'm glad He asks me try to love my fellow humans and understands when I fail. And I'm glad He has mercy on me when I fail. 

Justice Part 2?

Where justice ends, love begins. Thats the answer. At least according to Brennan Manning. "On the last day when Jesus calls me by my name, 'Come, (Daniel), blessed of my Father,' it will not be because Abba is just, but because His name is mercy."



I am loved by my Creator. Because He is love, He is able to look beyond justice. He is able to move beyond what I deserve. He pursues a relationship with my heart, soul, mind and body. Not out of justice, but out of love and kindness. He is just. He is love.



I watched a "crazy, homeless lady" dance around the street tonight. (Yeah, she winked at me. Guess I appeal to someone out there? At any rate...) God looks at her with the same caring, loving gaze He looks at me with. He desires her just as much as He desires me.

In "The Ragamuffin Gospel" Manning recounts the story of the woman caught in adultery in the New Testament. The Pharisees wanted justice when they paraded that woman, naked and scared, in front of Jesus. Jesus wanted the woman to know love and experience grace. He wants me, and you, to know love and experience grace.

I think He desires I acknowledge my brokenness. I think He desires I understand justice and what I 'deserve.' I think He wants me to EXPERIENCE grace, kindness, love, and compassion. To move past the questions and recieve His love with gratitude and joy. I want to live in a place of trust. I want to have all of my fears driven away. There is no fear in love.

I don't think He wants me to be hung up on my falleness. I don't think He wants me to hate myself because of the things I do and have done. That isn't experiencing love and grace. That isn't living a life of gratitude. Once again, life is about balance. I have to understand my weaknesses. I have to understand that I am loved in spite of them. I have to trust that He loves me. I have to trust that life is an experience. I will experience sadness and loss. I will experience joy and suffering. I WILL experience grace and love. I will express gratitude. I will recieve His love. I will be a beggar at His door of mercy.

Justice?

I was almost blown away today. Everday, I see gypsys. Literally. Rags and everything. Everyday, I see beggars. Literally. Almost everyday, I hear stories of thieves. I despise thieves. I think if they're caught stealing, they should lose a finger. I hate the way being robbed makes me feel. These are the ragamuffins Jesus loved.

He died a thieves' death. For the beggars, thieves, and gypsys, of which I am the worst. He died pleading forgiveness for me, a thief, beggar and a gypsy. I don't get it? How is that justice? Why did He die, so that I don't have to? Why did He suffer for me? He was innocent. On ALL charges. Innocent. And he died so I don't have to be judged? Is there justice in that perfect love?

I asked for compassion today. I asked for one drop of the kindness that my Creator has. I asked to look upon the "lowly" with the same love and kindness that my Creator looks at me. I don't give beggars money. I won't. I still have a really, really hard time with thieves. I hope I never catch anyone's hand in my pocket. I don't know how to extend grace and mercy to someone who takes from other people. I have no idea. But grace has been extended to me?

My Creator created everyone and He loves everyone just the same. I don't understand the justice in His perfect love? How? Knowing myself, and knowing all that I've done, I know I am still loved. I don't want to ask why or how anymore? I want to recieve that love with gratitude. I want to recieve that love like beggars recieve money. I want to believe that somehow, someway, Jesus' sacrifice was and is enough. That my Creator's love for me is perfect. I don't have to know how or why. I don't have to be perfect. I don't even have to be good. I can recieve His love with gratitude. And I can try, everyday, to say thanks for a love I will never understand.

I don't know where justice fits in? I don't know why I'll never "get what I deserve?" I don't know why He loved me enough to take the time to create me and this beautiful earth for me to enjoy? I just want to say thanks. I want to recieve it. I don't need to know why. I just need to be grateful that it is an eternal truth.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit..." God, grant me the humilty to know that I am nothing, but because of Your perfect love, I am something. I am Yours. Grant me the gratitude to say thanks. Thanks for creating me and for life-and all of its imperfections. Grant me the trust not to ask why, or how You love me anymore. The trust and faith to believe that You are love and I am loved. Grant me the compassion to love the unloveable. "...For theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."

Cultural Differences, humility, and patience...

Italians are a very emotional people. It's really hard to tell when someone is talking to a friend or an enemy. It's hard to tell when someone is being rude. It's hard to tell when any situation could escalate. I'm not sure where the line between accepting cultural differences and standing up for myself is? 

I'm trying really hard to learn humility. For some reason, I think my opinion matters? For some reason, I think it's important, in conversations, to give my side. I work for an Italian man. He isn't the best communicator. He's fluent in 4 languages, I think, but his English and mine must not be the same?

Perhaps I was lucky enough to work for a few bosses that were able to lay out expectations clearly? Perhaps I was lucky enough to work for a few bosses that were willing to accept my feedback? Perhaps I was lucky enough to work for a few bosses that were willing to sit down and talk about the ambiguities of the job I was doing? Perhaps it's a cultural difference?

The other night, I was "called out" by my boss. I was in the middle of a conversation with a guest at the hostel, he interrupted us, and asked why I wasn't at the other building. I said I was on my way over there, but I was in the middle of a conversation. He was wrong. On about 3 different planes, he was wrong. He's my boss. I kept my mouth shut. Keeping my mouth shut ate at me for a LONG time.

My question is this: Where does humility begin and standing up for myself end? I don't like being pissed. I want to be a patient man. I want to be a humble man. I want to be an honest man. In my humble opinion, honesty means saying what I think. 

I don't like to hold on to past conversations and think what coulda, woulda, shoulda been said. It's an awful feeling. The remedy to that is to say what I think, when I think it? Doing that usually blows patience and humility out of the water. Dealing with an Italian business owner, who is loud, aggressive, and pushy is an interesting experience. Hopefully, it will be a humbling one. Humbling is NOT the same as humiliating. 

Balance. Patience. Humility. Peace. 

I feel like...something?

"You say there is no perfect place, I say I know this is true. I'm just learning how to smile, that's not easy to do." --Everclear. 

Life is a funny thing. I hope I have the ability to laugh. My Creator has a great sense of humor. It's quite obvious. I no longer believe that I was created out of sadism. There was a point I had to reach, when I went from a place of mistrust to a place of trust. I have to trust that the foundation of my existence is love. 

Gathering people for tours has been an experience I will never forget. There are moments throughout the day, standing in front of St. Peters Basilica and the Vatican, that my soul feels totally crushed. There are moments when I forget how to smile. Many of them. 

There are moments when I ask myself what I'm doing. Many of them. There are moments when I see something, or hear something, or feel something, and I despise humanity. There is something inside me that aches. There are other moments when I feel like "All is as it should be." 

God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; 
Enjoying one moment at a time; 
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; 
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it; 
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life 
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

I am so much more than reasonably happy. I am also trying my damndest to accept hardship as a pathway to peace. Trust. I'm trying to trust that I wasn't created to hurt. I'm trying to trust that while, yes, humanity is so broken, busted, and bleeding, I am loved by my Creator. I am trying to trust that they are loved by their Creator.

I really don't know what I'm trying to say. I have so much on my mind and my heart. I have so much to be grateful for. I have so much gratitude in my heart and I'm looking for it. I don't like that I don't fart gratitude. I have more to be grateful for than I can ever say thanks for. I need to find out how to let some of that gratitude out, and I'm not sure how?

I've met people that are so in tune with who and what they are, what they were, and what they someday will become. These are the people that are joyful. These are the people that bring SO much positive energy to every situation they're in. These are the people that "never have a bad day." These are the people I love being around. 

Someday, I'll be made perfect. Someday. I know who I was. I know what I've been. I know what I am. I don't yet know WHO I am. How do I allow the gratitude to flow in the midst of so much brokenness? How do I brighten other people's day? How do I allow the gratitude in my heart out? How do I say thanks to the One who loves me? 

Life is a funny thing. I'm just learning how to smile, that's not easy to do.

Capitalistic Socialists?

Rome is the home of capitalism. It's ALL about money here. Everyone is trying to make money. (No one uses credit cards-FYI, future travelers.) Cash talks. Everyone is trying to get a leg up on everyone else. It's the sharp edge of the capitalistic double-edged sword. The difference between here and the "greedy American capitalists" is consumer protection.

You are going to get scammed here. You will be hustled. You will feel taken advantage of. You will BE taken advantage of. A common trick I keep hearing about is a camera scam. You find the camera you want, the vendor "puts it in the box," and hands you a heavy box of Montana air. What are you going to do? What can you do? By the time you realize it, he/she is gone with your money.

I've been gathering people for tours. Basically, I stand outside the Vatican and round people up for tours. I get a commission for everyone that takes the tour. Let me say...this gets REALLY cut-throat and competitive. One trick here, is telling people, "Sign up for my tour, and skip the 2 hour Q." (The Q is the line.) Lots of issues with this great sounding gig. 1. The Q may only be 30 minutes? 2. Even on the tour, they're still going to stand in a line. There is ALWAYS a line.

I saw, 1st hand, a gatherer/tour guide walk up to another gatherer while they were talking to people. She was interupting and doing everything she could to drive the people away. This same lady likes to inform the police of illegal gatherers-of which I am one...I'm not going to lie? The odds of me knocking this woman down, and hopefully out, are VERY good.

I was talking to my boss and I told him, I'm not going to lie to people. Anothe gatherer heard this and said, "Oh?! You'll get over that in a week, tops. I said the same thing..." I tell people you can avoid one line, but you're probably going to wait in another one. I know what it feels like to be pressured by pamphlet people. I don't want to do that to people. For some reason, maybe it's a mid-western thing or maybe my parents are good people and raised me to think of others, but, for some reason, I want to treat people with some decency. The hard thing for me is the people that are tired of being hastled. They treat me like I'm sure I treat other gatherers. Life is a cycle, isn't it?

Making money is a great thing. I guess? I hate money. I HATE the fact that I have to have money. I love having money. It is what it is. It's how the world turns. I'm going to keep gathering people for tours. I'm going to keep doing it with a smile and wishing the people that say "no" a good day. I'm going to make an effort to look people in the eye, when they bother me with tour info, and politely say, "No thank you."

Homesickness...my perspective?

So. I've been dealing with some homesickness? What do you expect from a Mamma's Boy from Missouri, eh? I have an amazing family. I have amazing friends. I'm overseas for the first time. Homesickness happens. 

I was laying in bed last night thinking about my niece, my parents, and the amazing friends I have. I almost started crying? Then, I thanked God that I have a place that is safe. I thanked Him that I have a home to miss. It seemed to make things a little easier.

I learned, through Celebrate Recovery, that life is ALL about perspective. There are so many different ways to look at the EXACT same circumstance. Because I am loved, I have a home. A safe place that has always and will always be there. I have family and friends that love me and care for me. Not everyone can say that. I GET to be in Rome because I am loved. I get to see another part of the world. I get to have somewhere to miss and call home. I am blessed. I am loved. 

Learning to be loved.

This is a brief look into one of the areas in my life that made me crazy. There are other aspects, but relationally speaking, this was my insane path and drive to find love. I've learned this much since April:

I've decided that I have to make myself happy. And that I have to be happy with myself. I can't do for anyone until I know what I need and want. I don't care if I get married. It used to be ALL I wanted and thought about. It made me force things with women, and in turn, I was constantly hurt and couldn't figure out what the problem was? Now, whatever happens, happens. I don't feel the need to pursue anyone or anything. Maybe someday I'll be doing my thing, and someone will be there? If so, cool. If not, cool. I was always repeating the same actions, expecting a different outcome. I call that insanity. Women are a source of insanity in my life. I HAVE to keep my life simple. Right now, that means I can't be with anyone? I have to accept that. I am happy to accept it. I have to do the things that bring me sanity. Life is too short to be insane. I went crazy looking for love. I went crazy looking for fulfillment in relationships. I went crazy thinking that every girl I met, talked to, dated, or loved may be "the one." I can't handle that anymore. I know what's it like to desire to be desired. I know what it means to want nothing more than to be loved and accepted. I know the pain of craving intimacy more than anything else. I know the empty feeling of sex when it just doesn't quite meet the need. I know what it means to look, time after time, in the wrong place. It sucks. It's hard. It's life. I get it. I can't do it anymore. I am going to look for the things that bring me rest and sanity. That's what I'm going to pursue. Is it selfish? I don't know. I don't care. I'm going to do what makes me happy and what makes me come alive. To hell with what it looks like to anyone else. This is probably the first time in my life I've been able to do this? I had to finally accept and believe that I was loved. Already, out of the gate, from the day I was conceived, I was loved. From birth, I've been loved. Once I realized, truly realized, believed, and accepted that my Creator loves me, my family loves me, and my friends love me, I found freedom. I found peace. I found rest. I found a safe place. No matter what I do, no matter how badly I mess it up, I am loved. That's where I've been hanging out for the last 3 months. This is where I'm finding me. I have to keep it simple. I am loved. Doesn't matter why? Or how? I don't even have to believe it or understand it. It just is. I am loved. I don't care about anything else. Nothing else matters. This is where I have to live. I hope you find peace and rest and comfort. There are people rooting for you. I am rooting for you! Be you. Be ok with being you. Live YOUR life the way YOU want to-be moral, be upright, be honest, be true. Do the things that bring YOU sanity and rest and joy. Let the rest happen? You are awesome. You are enough. Despite all of the things that have brought you where you are and all of the bumps and bruises and jacked up examples of love you've had and experienced, your Creator loves you. Your family loves you. Your true friends love you. You are accepted. You are cherished. You are valued. I am loved. I am accepted. I am valued.

I hope this finds you well.

"May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be pleasing to You."

A beggar...

Don't be offended by anything I'm about to say. It's my opinion and nothing more. That being said...here I go?

I've been walking around this city and stopping in some of the ancient basilicas. I am absolutely amazed at the ability of some artists. They're able to create! That is a talent I don't really have? These churches are their expressions of worship. I respect that so much! I really do! I've also been learning a lot of the history of the Catholic Church. Interesting...Religion in and of itself is also fascinating?

For me, and no one else, but for me, I would rather worship my Creator in His Creation, not mans'. I was hanging out in the basilica Mussolini attended during WWII. One of the most amazing places I have ever seen. There is SO much history there. There is a hole in the wall, near the ceiling where a ray of light can enter. They used this as a calender. It's still VERY accurate. There are paintings and sculptures everywhere. It's still used for worship services today. 

As I was sitting there, admiring the art, it started to hit me? I really like being outside when I approach the throne of mercy. Brennan Manning, in his life changing book, "The Ragamuffin Gospel" uses the term, "a beggar at the door of mercy." There are, at nearly all of the basilicas, beggars at the doors. 

I realized that I am nothing but a beggar at the door of the throne of grace. I am begging for peace. I am begging for mercy. I am begging for sanity. I am begging for rest. I approach my Creator asking for peace. Mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual peace. I ask Him to allow me to pursue peace of mind, body, and soul. Because He loves me, He grants me that peace. 

I find my peace, sanity, and rest when I believe He loves me. I don't need to know how or why He does, I just need enough faith to believe He does. I don't need a building, preacher, priest, or anyone or anything other than my Creator and His creation. Because He loves me, I am able to see, hear, touch, taste, smell, and live. It's that simple. 

When I try to make religion or church or anything else my "place" of worship, I miss it. I miss out the simplicity of the love my Creator has for me. I appreciate the buildings and the men and women that have dedicated their lives to showing their appreciation. I need to find how I express my love and appreciation to my Creator. "May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be pleasing to You." 

I've seen where the church has entered the picture. Literally. I've seen the buildings that were ordered to be destroyed or altered because they were pagan symbols. I've seen the art that was altered. It's very interesting. I see, everyday, how the "church" has gained its power. 

This post is NOT an attack on the church or anyone affiliated with it. This is NOT an attack on organized religion. This is my way of processing history and making my own. In my life, simplicity HAS to reign. God's love is VERY simple. I want it to reign. He loves me. Because He loves me, I should probably try to love myself? I want to find how He wants me to worship. 

I spent some time thinking about whether or not God likes me? I think He does. I think He wants to spend time with me. I want to spend time thanking Him for that. 

Bracciano...

Here's the thing. I know why Tom wanted to get married at Bracciano. I mean. Wow. The water is so clear! I've never seen anything like it! It's an old volcano that erupted, is now dormant, and filled with water. Rumor has it, they still don't know how deep it is? I guess the caves that are under the lake still unknown in their depths. It's too deep for any divers and the equipment still doesn't get that deep. The lake feels like a beach. There are some rocks, but it's mostly like really small creek gravel? There are shops all around the lake. It sits in between mountains. Amazing. 

Things have been going really well. I wasn't sure when I was going home, but now it looks like it's going to be later than I thought? I haven't started making any money yet, but I'm not too worried about it yet? Will, my friend that I'm here with, is a great guy. He's given me the chance of a lifetime, and I will forever be indebted. 

Hookahs and happy things...

Ok. So, in all honesty. I smoked a hookah, for the 1st time in my life last night? It was only tobacco-no hash! The people I smoked it with, were snipers in the Israeli army?! I have NO idea why, but that totally fascinates me! They're really cool guys-Art and Stephan. There were some other really cool people hanging out, too. 

Last night, we cooked an amazing dinner. Ok, mainly Will, but I was there?! We made a 4-cheese sauce to put on top of our pasta. We cooked some chicken in mushrooms and threw it all together. Nice. Before we started dinner, we sat around talking, smoking a hookah, drinking wine, eating cheese and olives, and relaxing. There were 6 of us. Then we went out.

So far, I've learned that "traveling" is internationally translated "partying." Every once in a while, just to mix things up, sightseeing occurs? I'm in a different situation than most people. I'm basically stationed here in Rome. Most people are passing through. I'm not in any hurry to sightsee or take pics or anything like that. I've got time. That's really nice? I'm a lucky man. 

Back to they partying thing, because I know how people worry. It IS fun. Going out in Rome and seeing all of the different people is pretty intense. I'm not going out every night and getting crazy. That is too expensive and, to be honest, not my cup of tea anymore. Going out twice a week or so and having some drinks is fine. Dancing is fun, too.  

I'm learning more about a different side of me, also? It's amazing how many types of wine are grown around here! And there are so many different types of cheese...I love it. I really enjoy sitting around with Will and trying different cheeses and different types of wine. We went to a jazz bar the other night and I had one of the best wines I've ever had. 

I also think I figured out some of what jazz is trying to say to me? I always thought jazz was chaotic and about love and arguing with your significant other? It always seemed like two people taking turns yelling at each other. I hear that. But now, I', thinking jazz is about finding something? I don't know what was found, but it was a pretty big deal finding it. Interesting, perhaps only to me, but interesting? Obviously, all jazz is different? I may actually enjoy some of it? I need to hear some yazz flute...

 

Rome, I think?

6-11-09

 

So. My last 24 hours-give or take-have been pretty interesting? I had a delay in Houston, which caused me to miss my international flight, which caused me to spend more money, which is almost causing me to stress? Almost. I did find that $500 is just more than 300 euros. Back to the travel stories, though?

 I flew out of Denver on Tuesday, June 9^th at 9:00 am. I landed in Houston around noon, I think? We were supposed to take off at 1:15 and land in New York around 6? We didn’t leave Houston until 5:30. This, obviously, will make making a 9 pm New York departure pretty sneaky? LUCKILY!!! I was flying in to LaGuardia, from Houston, and I was supposed to fly out of JFK. So, really, not too big of a deal. Guess I should have checked what airports I was SUPPOSED to use and what airports I was ACTUALLY using? Lesson learned. All this means is that my travel stories’ plots’ thickened a little sooner than planned?

 While on delay in Houston, I called Aer Lingus. I had to see what needed to be done about missing my flight. This, in all actuality, is when I found out I biffed it. So, I’m talking to dude from Aer Lingus trying to get it all figured out, he asked if Continental would help me out any, he was really cool, so I put him on hold to ask the Continental people what’s up? Except the hold button doesn’t work? So…I hung up on him. Not too big of a deal, I’ll call back, right? Talking to Continental, I realize they’re finally boarding my flight to NY. I made the decision that I should at least get to NYC and figure it out from there.

 When I get to NY, I call Aer Lingus to try to get it all put together. Their service center closed. The airport was a ghost town. Yeah. Spent the night on the floor at JFK. I did get to ride in New York’s subway system? LaGuardia to JFK. That was pretty cool? Interesting thing that public transportation is? Anyway…Got a few short naps in here and there? Did I mention I didn’t bring my cell phone and all of the airport WiFi places cost money? Sorry, not going to pay $9.95 for a days use of the internet. I digress. So, after my restful night, I start calling Aer Lingus at 8 am EST and trying to get it all figured out. Good news! A flight leaves NY tonight! But, it’s going to be an extra $700. Bad idea. I could wait until Friday and it would only be $400 more? Decided I had to try something else.

 I had to get to Boston! So, I hop an Amtrak from NYC to Boston. It was about 9:30 at the time, so I had until 11 to get from JFK to Penn Station. I load up another metro card, and head to the subway. Get on the subway and a guy asks for my ticket. I had him my metro card and he looks at me. I then realized the E subway, which costs $2, is NOT the same thing as the Long Island Railroad, which costs $10. It does go straight to the station as opposed of the subway which would have taken me a few blocks away. The gentleman was very nice. “Don’t worry about it.” Ok. I won’t. Thanks, man.

 I got to ride a train! It’s about a 3 hour train ride to Boston. It was really nice. On a random note…it’s 1:20 am on the east coast and 6:20 in Dublin. Who needs sleep? ME!!! I don’t know what’s going on? I’m about to board a flight to Rome. I’ll be there around 11:30 this morning. Think it’s a 5 hour difference-ish? Where was I? Train…yes. I made it to Boston with time to spare, got everything squared away, and now I’m no longer in America? Pretty crazy. It is Thursday, I think? So, I’ll be in Rome a day later than planned? I think? I’m a little confused.

 The people in NYC were all nice. I wish I would have had a little more time in Boston? I think I really like old east coast ocean towns? Ok. I’m going to go ahead and say it. There are always, ALWAYS, beautiful women in airports. There. It’s out there. I mean…YO!? Think it’s about time to board up for Rome. Maybe I can get a little nap in? I watched “Taken” on the Dublin flight. Then, on the same flight, I met 3 female recent high school grads that are on the first leg of their European vacation. Ugh. Intense. God be with them.

It's now 5 pm in Rome on Thursday. I made it. I guess it's 10 am back home? I don't really know how long I've been on the road? I would like to go to Dublin, though? I was there briefly and it was beautiful on the flight out. We went over the Alps. I'll try to figure out how to get some pics posted? Thank for the camera, Josh. 

I really can't think straight anymore, so I'm going to wrap this post up. I'll write some more later.

It's Time.

I'm sitting in Denver International Airport, about to fly to Houston, TX, New York, NY, Dublin, Ireland, then Rome Italy. I'm leaving the United States of America and I don't know when I'll come back? I am moving to Rome. I hope to be working in a restaurant and gathering people for tour companies and bars. Basically, I'm a herder? I like that idea. 

I came to Denver last Thursday, the 4th, I think? I got to stay with my brother and his wife. Awesome. Good times. Good people. I got to hang out with my cousins. Good times. Good people.

I already feel really weird without my cell phone. 

A beard, a backpack, and belief.

Well? I guess I'm going to start a blog? I mean, it could be kind of fun, eh? I leave the country tomorrow. That's a pretty cool thing to write. Hopefully, this blog will allow the people that want to know what I've been up to will work out well for all?