Age of Commencement

August 10, 2011

“You have to do your own growing up, no matter how tall your grandfather was.”

-Abraham Lincoln

By my calculations, it’s been about 2 and a half months since my previous blog entry. For those of you wondering what I’ve been up to since late May, the answer’s simple: I’ve been growing up.

I’m not quite sure how this phenomenon occurred, but it seems that despite my consistent childhood urgings that “I’m a Toys ‘R Us kid,” I have suddenly and undeniably left the dust of my adolescence behind me.

This is not to imply that my previous life was a poor one, by any means. Quite the contrary, in fact.

My reflective nature has always created a natural inclination towards nostalgia, and though my teenage years and early 20s were marked largely by inner turmoil, low self-esteem and the frustrating cocktail of fear and loneliness (are you as tired as I am of hearing me lament the regrets of the past?), I count myself lucky for having a wholly uncomplicated and considerably character-building life up to this point.

However, while time has surely proved itself the world’s most effective teacher, there is an air of particular progress about the here and now.

In the last year – hell, even the last six months – the people around me, including longtime friends and family members, have embarked on a number of grown-up pursuits and taken tremendous leaps of faith in their personal and professional lives. Specifically in my own life, I have cast aside a number of my longtime fears and worries in favor of taking that next natural step towards the happiness that I have chased in vain for so very long.

In retrospect, it’s easy to be intimidated by how much life has changed in such a short period of time. I suppose life has a way of sneaking up on us so that we never realize what the point of it all is until we arrive at our destination. If you’re like me, then you’ve probably had moments where you’ve second-guessed the direction your life was going. You might have wondered if a particular area of your life (or sector – more on that in an upcoming blog entry!) was ever going to pan out or if you were doomed to misery in that department.

But, like so many other things, the only way you can truly achieve happiness is to swallow your pride, cage your reservations and confront it head-on, regardless of the potential failure and emotional devastation that may result.

A decade ago, my graduation from high school was intended to signal my commencement, an entrance into “the real world.” But for me, the past ten years haven’t really felt like the adulthood I envisioned for myself. Rather, it’s been a journey of self-discovery and lessons learned, as I conducted a rigorous round of soul-searching to figure just who the hell I am inside and recapture the strength and joy of life that defined my childhood.

Integrating a childlike fascination with and appreciation for everything you have with the expectations society has for a mature adult and the responsibilities that entails is trickier than it sounds, believe me.

Yet, as I look back on how far my family, friends and I have come in 2011, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride and astonishment. We’ve all truly grown up and become even more amazing adults than I had imagined in my youth. And as I peek ahead at the exciting future that awaits, I can’t help but look forward to what lies in store for us all.

Bring it, adulthood. I’m officially ready for you.

In the Palm of my Hand

Just in my lifetime, technology has developed in incredible leaps and bounds. Even now, I'm enjoying the fresh, Christmas-y air as I type this entry on my iPhone.

There's no denying that the technological advances that have become commonplace have added tremendous convenience to our everyday routine. However, more intriguing (to this writer, at least) is how devices such as smartphones and satellites, Netflix and Facebook have changed social politics and the industries they purport to develop.

Certainly, having the ability to stay connected all the time and access virtually any little bit of information and/or entertainment without ever having to step foot out of your home is a remarkable feat. But, as comic book aficionados know, with great power comes great responsibility.

Often, we are so busy being inundated with data and chatting with our so-called "friends" online that no one ever stops to contemplate how all this accessibility is affecting the course of history.

With social media, increasingly elaborate video games and instant streaming of your favorite show or movie, there's no longer a need for children to go out and play, no reason to put all that electronic equipment aside and, y'know, connect with an actual human being. And then we wonder why obesity - both childhood and adult - has become an ever-worsening point of discussion.

While the eventual parent in me shudders to think of a world so overrun with technology that human contact becomes obsolete, I find myself struggling with the over-availability of information and distraction on a daily basis.

Am I saying we should deactivate our Twitter accounts and toss our laptops out the window? Of course not. I merely advocate a little more mindfulness of this growing reliance and, in many cases, addiction to technology.

Convenience it may be, but from my perspective, one that needs to be tempered with more moderation and self-awareness to keep humanity connected, happy and balance. Don't get caught in the World Wide Web.

-Rob

The People Who Matter

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter
and those who matter don't mind."

-- Dr. Seuss

In today's world, it's easy to get caught up in superficiality.

I mean, we live in a land rife with social media, where networking and connections are an integral - and often indispensable - part of our personal and professional lives. In fact, it's not uncommon for the average person to have hundreds - if not thousands - of online "friends" or followers on either Facebook and/or Twitter, respectively.

But does this quantity over quality mentality really make any sense? Are we as individuals really gaining anything (other than meaningless bragging rights) when we establish such loose and virtually nonexistent ties with people whom we, to be perfectly honest, barely know?

I used to think so. Perhaps it's a side effect of living a school and family-centric adolescence, one devoid of close, personal friendships outside of my immediate family, but when I had my so-called awakening in my early 20s, I knew that one of the areas I most needed to work on was my social skills.

So I put myself out there, albeit gradually, and began to go out drinking or just plain old hanging out with friends, co-workers, etc., despite the fact that the activities and their company often left me feeling empty inside. Having consumed varying amounts of alcohol and spending needless cash to do so, I would ultimately return home feeling like I had been bamboozled.

The whole point of my attempts to build a social life was to try and fill that emptiness I felt within, and while I have on occasion managed to conduct close, meaningful conversations with those I consider my friends, it seems that society's general idea of "friendship" relies largely on pointless small talk and artificial incarnations of our true selves, as if socializing is nothing more than the world's most widespread and elaborate costume party.

No one really gets to know the people around them because no one is secure and confident in themselves to drop the charade and be who they truly are. And, with everyone flashing their masks of perfection and unaffectedness, how can we ever hope to achieve those deep connections with people? How can we ever realize our desire to fill that lingering emptiness inside with people in our lives who truly care about us and invoke within us the desire to open ourselves up to them in return?

I've been just as guilty of this as anyone, as I spent at least half of my years on this planet hiding in the shadows... terrified of the judging eyes all around me... simultaneously yearning for their approval and resenting myself for not being more vigilant about seeking it.

So while I half-heartedly attempted to build a social circle in the real world, I settled for what I suspect many other people in a similar position do as well. I relied on the faux-friendships of Facebook, even knowing that the impersonal nature of the medium would not slake my hunger for close relationships.

In my heart, I had only my family and a handful of reliable friends, and this simply wasn't enough.

I can't say if this was caused mostly by my own insecurities or simply the societal pressure to be popular (which usually starts around the time of high school and often stays with us throughout our lives). Whatever the case may be, I was consistently seeking attention online and otherwise... looking for someone... anyone to show they care.

However, as I've grown weary of making attempts to contact and foster friendships with people who showed little to no interest in reciprocating and getting to know me, my perspective has shifted irreversibly to the other side.

And my conclusion now is... I don't need hundreds of "friends." I don't want to establish superficial, substanceless relationships with friends, co-workers, significant others or family members. If I'm going to get to know someone, they're going to get to know me.

Perhaps it's just the fact that time has made me a much wiser man than my younger self, but my time is too valuable to piss away going out drinking, getting caught up in mindless conversation and meeting random strangers who have little relevance to my life and possess no genuine desire to hear my story.

Unlike those people still trapped on that carousel of meaningless relationships and phoniness, I have come to realize that I'm far luckier than they are. Yes, I don't have a thousand "friends" on Facebook. I don't have a million followers on Twitter. Hell, I'm not even the life of the party in my real life.

My gift is far greater. I know - without the shadow of a doubt - who I can count on to be there for me. I know that my infinitely supportive family, my amazing girlfriend and a handful of reliable friends accept and love me for who I am with no reservation. They've seen the good and bad in me and have decided to stick by me.

So, while others might spend their days searching in vain for that sense of belonging, I've had mine all along. Now, it's simply up to me to show appreciation to the people in my life who love me by showing my love in return. They're the only ones I need. In short, they're the people who matter.

-Rob

Playing for Passion

"Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion."

-- Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

It's no mistake that the above quote adorns the wall of the bathroom in my apartment. It seems to me that so many people meander through life so determined on simply surviving... on getting through school, making it to the end of each oncoming work week, even suffering through that awkward family get-together... that they entirely miss the point of life: to live it. I should know. I used to be one of those people.

The truly unfortunate thing about being both socially awkward and a natural introvert is that you spend so much time locked away in the confines of your own mind that the years slip by seemingly without notice.

One minute, you're a carefree 12-year-old devoid of the emotional burdens that cause most people to conduct themselves in a manner totally at odds with their true identity. The next minute, you're in your early 20s, befuddled and confused, wondering where the time went and searching in vain for whatever it is you have to show for it.

The problem - at least, in my case - was a lack of enthusiasm and direction in my life. While I went about my daily activities (school, work, time with family), I had invested little of myself in my own life. In short, I had no passion.

Following the epiphany that accompanied my 21st birthday, I steadily began to take hold of my destiny, and a large part of that was the discovery of my passion for writing. Within two or three years, I began to write advertorials for a local community publication, became an active contributor to my college newspaper and even started this very blog.

Slowly but surely, my life began to take shape, and its the miraculous empowerment of passion that made that possible. Whereas most people may simply strive for surviving their life, I began to hope for something better, a life which I can be proud of. The one I was destined for.

But passion doesn't extend strictly to your professional calling. It's far deeper than that. It's about the people in your life as well, the connections you make. It's about the company you keep at work, with family... friends... even your romantic relationship. It's that feeling you get that everyone and everything in your life is exactly as it should be, and you can't imagine it any other way.

It's about having strong feelings of interconnectedness with the people and places around you and finding an element of excitement in even the most prosaic things you do. Waking up in the morning and feeling like you belong.

For so many years, I spent my life feeling like a stranger in my own skin. I would stop and reflect on who I was, how the world saw me and how I saw the world... and it disgusted me. I knew that I wasn't being true to myself, that I wasn't living the life I should be.

But, like many people currently meandering through their years with little room in their hearts and minds for joy or even amusement, I was too weak and too afraid to change my circumstances.

And therein lies the true tragedy. Because most people caught in this never-ending cycle of disenchantment will never take the time to search within themselves and explore the desires of their heart. Whether crippled by circumstance or fear, they may never be able to confront the difficult questions that plague us all. The big, underlying mystery that underscores each individual's journey.

It's never been "Why are we here?" but rather "Why am I here?" "What makes me the happiest? What is my calling? Who truly holds my heart? What the hell do I want in life?"

Shakespeare once wrote, "All the world's a stage. And all the men and women only players."

Which begs the question: What're you playing for? Without that driving force... without finding where you belong and who you belong with... you're squandering your time in the spotlight.

So, follow my advice, take five and re-evaluate if you're truly giving your all out on that stage. Because, if you're not, the only one you're doing a disservice to... is yourself. You only have one chance to deliver the performance of your life.

-Rob

Pianist Envy

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man. Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feeling all right."

- Billy Joel

Have you ever been inexplicably drawn to something? Something you couldn't quite explain? Something that somehow spoke to you... and only you... as if there was some hidden language between you and your source of inspiration?

Since you're reading this, I sincerely hope the answer is "yes." For, otherwise, the subsequent blog entry will probably be of little use to you. If you're with me - or at least, interested in seeing where all this is going, then welcome aboard... because that mysterious attraction I alluded to in the first paragraph is exactly how I feel about the piano.

There's no way to be sure exactly when or how my love affair with the piano began. As a child, I dismissed it largely as "old person's music" and instead turned to the more pop-tinged MC Hammer and Michael Jackson music that encompassed the bulk of my childhood music collection, before adolescence and a broader approach to the arts set in.

Over the last decade, though, it has been a gradual, ever-growing appreciation for its sweet, simple and yet extremely evocative sound. What started with the radio hits of artists like Stevie Wonder, Alicia Keys and John Legend has evolved to touch a bit more on the classical masterpieces that have made the piano one of the most popular and integral instruments of the musical world.

The funny thing is that I only really noticed just how deep my love for the piano goes in the last couple of years. A number of my favorite artists - from those more popular stars mentioned above to more underrated talents such as Jamie Cullum and William Joseph - center their gifts on the piano as their central mode of expression. I've even recently taken a more developed liking to the oeuvre of classic rock/soul artist Billy Joel, whose seminal hit "Piano Man" is quoted atop this post.

Come to think of it, it's interesting to note that Mr. Joel's hits may, in fact, have been the foundation for my love of piano in the first place. I remember being a little kid and listening to his "Greatest Hits, Vol. I and II" album collection (yes, I said "album." I know I'm dating myself here. Lol). Even with my limited exposure to music, there was no denying that songs like "Just the Way You Are," "Only the Good Die Young" and "Uptown Girl" had the ability to make this silly kid come alive in ways few other songs could at that time.

And as I've grown older and wiser, the piano has come to represent something else entirely. In today's musical age, that of Autotune and thumping club beats, it's nice to know that music need not be complicated with layers of adjusted vocals and the artificial tones of synthesized instrumentations.

If nothing else, piano is simple. It's elegant. And it allows the music to speak for itself. No hiding behind an over-produced audio track and no fancy T-Pain-esque vocal stylings designed (let's be honest now) to hide the fact that the "singer" at the mic has little to no vocal talent and/or nothing worthy to say. Mind you, this regards music in very general terms. Some of these tunes are too infectious for words, and I'm not ashamed to admit I have used the "I Am T-Pain" iPhone app. Who doesn't love "Blame It (On the Alcohol)"?

Yet the fact remains that the piano harkens back to a long-gone era, where jazz reined supreme and today's standards were the law of the land. I was fortunate enough to discover a local jazz club recently, and the experience of taking in the piano - coupled with commanding vocals - was not one I'll soon forget.

Armed with my fedora and a lovely lady by my side, it was one of the most memorable nightlife visits in recent memory, and it has played its part in helping me realize that - in my wonderful ways - I am an old-fashioned kind of guy. Yes, I love today's pop culture just as much as the next guy (well, mostly...), but I feel a special connection to the piano's soothing melodies and the timeless songs that it serves as the foundation for.

Yet, despite my pianistic passion, there is one objective I have yet to achieve. For years, I have wanted to learn to play the piano for myself. Much as I have taken to creative writing to satisfy my hunger for storytelling... much as I am drawn to the karaoke mic to showcase my love of music... I desire to be able to translate my reverence into another medium by playing the instrument itself as well.

And, well... I guess that's kind of the point of this blog entry, dear readers. I'm tired of postponing the pursuit of my passion and harboring a secret jealousy for those with the gumption to go for it. Like Billy Joel. Like Elton John. Like Stevie Wonder. These men have an amazing gift, and while I may never (ok, WILL never... lol) reach their level of talent in this respect, I owe it to myself to give it a try.

So, in my typical 11th hour attempt to transform a matter of personal opinion into a life lesson, I urge you all to search your hearts and minds. Surely, there is something in there that you've longed to do, longed to try, but never mustered up the dedication, willpower and/or courage to do so. I know there is something of this nature lurking in your heart. For mine is full to the brim... with pianist envy. ;)

Happy writing and living, all...

Rob