Insidious Adaptation

In 2004, I was thrown into another world foreign to all I had ever known. It was called Basic Military Training. I referred to it afterwards as, "a break." The reason I referred to this 7-week time in my life as this period of relaxation, despite the physical and mental exertion, was because I no longer had to make any decisions. Is all I had to do was literally sit and listen. If it wasn't for my own internal desires to stay, "muscular" I would have been fine. It was the brief evenings where a few of us Airmen stayed up to do some extra push ups or setups, you, know, to stay healthy. It was my first night at basic training, and the yelling and chaos to break our comfort ensued. Those who served know the anarchy that the BMT instructors bring about, and even at the time is nonsensical. It is absurd, brash, quick, and really gets you on your toes, for if the screaming didn't get you, the shuffle inside the cold showers, penetrating any comfort zones through...

The title, I feel like I came up with by myself, but there has to have been an idea like this before? Please tell me that someone somewhere has taken a step back, away from the crowds of bootcampers, the various cross-fit exercises, the supplements, the diet, all of it, and ask, why? Not just in why am I doing this, but, more specifically, why this? Why this workout, why this supplement, why this food? All necessary for an efficient, goal-driven lifestyle. I figure if you are going to take the time to invest in your overall wellness, you must have taken consideration in what kind of wellness? When we went to school, or started a career, did we just say I need a job, and stop there? We may have at first, like eating carrots instead of a Butterfinger or running instead of sitting, but time advances, and so should you. It's OK to ask questions when it comes to where you choose to spend your time. It is OK to ask why you should be eating certain foods, or less of others. It is OK...

Never have I ever sat in my house, listening to the latest beats, raised my hands, and start jumping around the living room, repeating the words that I knew of the chorus. Never, have I felt the need to get intoxicated to the point of not remembering anything while sitting at my kitchen table, eating stale popcorn from the day before. Never have I contemplated breaking a guys face while laying in bed at night prior to sleep. Never have I done these things, for they are absurd. Absurd only in context however. Absurd because there is nobody there. In all instances the thought never even crossed my mind to do any of those things, because by oneself, they make absolutely no sense. Even a few evenings in the early 20's I recall looking up to see myself reflected back from the mirrors on the dance floor of a local bar. I recall thinking, even in whatever state of mind I was in at the time, this is weird . Now, I can only imagine those same abrupt moves in my living room, sober, at 11AM...

Chemical reaction or a metaphor for life? "Able to dissolve other substances." Or, as a noun, "the liquid in which a solute is dissolved to form a solution." The all-encompassing substance that through osmosis a balance of concentration between inside and outside of the molecule become saturated, is useful for something as simple as making chocolate milk to a diluting a solution's concentration through the addition of a more neutral solvent like water to save a life. The underlying human condition, or as a collective, what makes nations, groups, neighborhoods, the unmeasurable parts of society with it's convictions, desire to assist and grow, and self-sacrifice, is our solvent. It is not measured or given the credit when it comes to the solution. You will not hear someone say, "ah the human condition and the need to connect, really showed up to day to help ol' Betsy up the stairs." No, rather we give credit to the man or woman whom ...

It is the hopeless that need hope, for the optimists have it all figured out right? Like, would we listen to those who maintain a positive regard? Would we want a song about love, where everything worked out, the happy ending, the positive self getting all the stuff they ever wanted? Boring. That isn't worthy of our time. We need pain. We need to feel something and happiness is taken for granted. Get in touch with your spirituality, the fact that life here is temporary and that there is only room for love, removes a lot of pain. Unfortunately, art without pain, without sacrifice, is shallow. Optimism, positivity, they are good for self-help books, but for the real sellers, we need to have us some discomfort. There is hope in Jesus, he died for us after all. The original superhero, for no other Marvel Character did what he did, even in their fictional tales. We no longer live in the pain of death, we are now saved. Say that again using logic. It is as logical as the sun settin...

A squirrel runs up a tree, a scattering of tiny claws on bark. Another one closely follows. Ah, a chase is what is happening here. The mind makes a little story, there must be mating involved, maybe a fight. Maybe, that squirrel is a child and there is play. Do squirrels play?  The edges of the mouth, their familiar patters, the lips stretch across the front, curl up at the ends. Cheeks seem to have less room now, and in combination with eye muscles tightening, they are both lifted and pushed out. The face of innocence, for the mind allowed itself to wander to a dimension of childlike wonder. We could turn this into a nature lesson, gain understanding about how squires work, after all my phone is in my pocket and google is pretty efficient. However, no, this moment will stay just like this. Plus, I don’t care that much. “Uh, I can’t do it, it’s broken.” Screams a child doing in her mind what she was told. “Sweetheart, just push down,” As dad lifts his own foot and pushes on th...

"You don't know what 69 means?" This said to me by a few classmates on a walk back from the mini mart at lunch. "Yea I know what it means." I lied. "What does it mean then?" The fateful challenge, an inevitable elevation of argument. "It's drugs." I went with what I thought was most relevant at the time. (laughter erupts) I have outed myself. I in fact, do not know what 69 means. The rest of that day in 7th grade was abysmal, for I was reminded again that I was different. I was on the outside of something all the other kids knew about. How did I miss this. I couldn't help but wonder, sitting in math after lunch, consumed with the social exclusion I was feeling. After all, nobody will like me now, for not only did I not know something so obvious to everyone else, but they caught me pretending. What if they figure out other things about me? As my adolescent armpits start to erupt with moisture, I now start to fear sweating...