Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Hugs.

Sometimes you see two people hug. Maybe a father and a wayward son, maybe a grandmother and her new baby granddaughter, perhaps just two old college roommates, and for a fleeting moment you feel a surge of unplaced love, of longing, of brotherhood. Maybe that’s one of the secrets of the universe, a way of spreading humanity and kindness, through a witnessed hug. You can see the love, the cheeks touching, the smelling of hair, the back slaps, the jovial laughs, the quivering lips, and the aching hearts. It’s beautiful.
The other day I saw two friends hug. They obviously hadn't seen each other in a long time. Maybe it was months, but it could have been longer. All I saw was genuine love, pure excitement, and it made me smile. But I don’t know these two guys, and never will. So why was I moved? Why was I so briefly affected by this display of friendship? I don’t know. Maybe I needed to see it. Maybe I was having a bad day, or just a bad hour. The reality is I was moved because I witness in graceful brevity two people who cared about each other, and for the tiniest moment the earth froze for them. Nothing else mattered but their embrace, and their mutual feeling of acceptance.
I am not the kind of person that weeps upon seeing a vivid rainbow, and I do not tear up when I see a person helping a stranger. But a well-written movie, a penetrating song, a word, a hug (apparently), can elicit a peculiar liquid from my eyes.
Not all of us are huggers, but all of us are lovers. Whether we are extroverts or hermits, we need and yearn for love. We might not fancy a bear hug from a parent or even a side hug from an acquaintance, but we all need a little love sometimes. And sometimes that love comes in the form of a reminder. Somehow seeing two grown men in suites made me think of my father, of how much it means to hug him sometimes. Most of the time it is just ritual, part of the life of two semi affectionate people. But sometimes the days are too hard, and too many, and our shoulders collide and we hold on a little longer, silently telling each other that it will be okay, it will get better.   
I don’t know what has come over me. Sometimes I feel like I am going through manapause. I get these random waves of sentimentality. These waves are uninvited, unmanly, and a little nauseating to others I am sure. But better to be maudlin than to be course and emotionally impenetrable I suppose.

I will finish with words that hopefully encapsulate what I am trying to say. Okay it doesn't really encapsulate things necessarily, but it is cute and needs to be said. I thank Deb Caletti for the following reminder: “That’s what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you are not so lovable.”




Saturday, January 17, 2015

Are We The Privileged?

Why do we feel this great feeling of superiority in a gushing flow of arrogance and ignorance? Did we create this planet? Did we choose the ultimate cosmic order of things? How tiny we are compared to the endless armies of people that have inhabited this earth. Knowing nothing of another's struggle, or real predestined purpose, how can we so confidently dismiss someone, or some group of people as "lesser?"

These are questions that perhaps seem simple if not cliche and over asked. Yet as our quotidian lives pass by at an ever increasing rate, we forget to think. We forget to ponder on the futility of certain things. We forger that the universe does not wait around for our individual triumphs. The vast amount of extant galaxies are surely unaware of our victories and our misguided aspirations.

All around the world, in past and present scopes we see this air of obvious privilege and entitlement reining supreme. A pervasive psychology of a privileged people, versus a degenerate and rejected people. Of course like any form of hate or injustice, it is invented by man. The earth didn't commence with kings and peasants, the royal and the derelict; though it didn't take long for man to assume an elevated role, an assumed position of privilege above all others.

I guess at the root of this thought is kindness. Where is kindness? And where is true understanding? Where and when will we find our brother? In recent studies of how powerful and endless this universe is, I cannot think but how small we are, and how trifling most matters are, how inconsequential disagreements and grudges are. Maybe it is just me. Maybe it is just my eternal outlook. But what are we upset about? Why can't we move on? We are but a flick of dust in the eons of existence.

I am not suggesting that our plight is hopeless and of no grand importance. On the contrary, I am claiming that an understanding of the enormity of our earth, of our galaxy only intensifies our desires to do good, to help our fellow man, and to dismiss feelings of jealousy, hate, and maltreatment.


Perhaps this video will better explain what my tiny mind and rapid fingers are trying to articulate.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PN5JJDh78I

Monday, January 12, 2015

Brief Lecture on Frowns

Ok, I wrote this over a year ago and neglected to post it anywhere besides on an anonymous writing forum. It is very short, and resembles a poem more than anything else. At best it is a pithy paragraph. It is probably the kind of micro-prose that would be fine tucked away into a leather journal or an unread Word document, but I will post it for nothing else than my own satisfaction of seeing it in a more indelible light. And who knows, maybe one person will enjoy it, in which case it will have served part of its purpose.  



"Today I noticed a flurry of people around me had this strange and off putting thing below their noses and right above their chins. It seemed to come and go, always with a distinct motion. I did not like it. I could not surmise the exact cause of this bewildering facial malfunction. This terrible and enigmatic face disease seemed to have an immediate effect on these people's attitudes. It almost appeared to be mysteriously contagious, so I tried to stay away. I am confident this abnormality is not permanent. I just hope these people will find a way to rid themselves of this illness. Those who are not donning this peculiar deformity seem to be of a much more felicitous disposition."




That is it. Thanks for reading. In case you have not been victim to my endless assault of shameless self-promotion, please go check out my book at Amazon.com. It is called I’mTrying Here. Also check out my YouTube channel at youtube.com/taychurch. Follow me on Instagram @taylorchurch44 and just love me endlessly and unconditionally. Thank you.




Saturday, December 27, 2014

Christmas Blues

The Christmas season is so polarizing. It is shaped with anxious awaiting, exciting moments and rich tradition, all leading up to that series of smiles, giving and receiving in the morning. But there is another side, a bluer side that follows it. At least for me. This year it came quicker than expected since I had to leave my hometown Christmas night in order to be back in Provo in time for work the next day. Usually I milk Christmas as long as I can. We keep the lights up through January, and keep the tree up longer than we probably should. I still let Christmas music play, and I eat candy well into the new year. But the Christmas blues hit me this year as the present opening ended and a lull fell over our house. Everyone was exhausted and after a hardy and slightly burned breakfast it was nap time for most of us. I was so thankful to be home and around those I loved, but truly bummed that my holiday was going to be defined by brevity. I was also sad because my sister and new niece hadn't joined us this year. We were staying in my grandma's house just across town even though my grandma was celebrating with my cousins in Washington. The house was bigger and more conducive for gathering. But it was a constant reminder to me of my late grandfather. In a house full of windows, I couldn't help but look out them and see the past. I saw myself running around the alfalfa fields with my sisters and cousins. I saw my grandpa teaching us how to move sprinklers and drive four-wheelers. We were never as close as I had hoped. He was surly and prone to grumpiness, and I was rambunctious and wore baggy pants. But he loved me and I loved him. His sudden departure from this world reminded me how much we loved each other in spite of our differences. But Christmas also reminded me of him; it reminded me of him singing in front of our whole family sweet classics and Swedish lullabies. His hugs and cowboy jeans were on the tip of my mind. It is terribly upsetting how obtuse we can be about love and family until a death awakens that underused love within us.

But I am not complaining. I am blessed to have a job, a family and more gifts than I deserve. I just couldn't help but feel a melancholy around me as the joy of Christmas sort of faded. I suppose part of life is realizing the best way to cope with things. I was clearly saddened by what felt like a rushed Christmas without a couple people that meant the world to me. But 24 hours removed, I can see that it was such a wonderful Christmas, and though I say it every year, the best Christmas ever. Melancholy is okay. Emotional is fine. Sure I missed my sister, and my Grandpa, but that is just a reminder of how blessed I am to have them in my life. I sit alone in my house since most of my friends are still out of town. But that is just another testimony of my blessed life, the fact that I have such important friends to miss. 

With the New Year coming in I have no more time to be sad. I only have a few days to finish out 2014 how I would like to. I have unrealized goals and unfinished dreams, and it is the 11th hour. And with the ushering in of 2015 I can forget my brief encounter with the blues and focus on the felicity of life and the greatness that the new year can bring. After all I have the new Taylor Swift CD, so life cannot be that bad.