Open Your Ears.... Not Your Mouth

Have you ever noticed someone completely missed the point when they voice their opinions in class?  Have you ever been talking to someone and realized they weren’t paying attention to your message? Has any one ever asked how you were doing and if you say anything other than, “I’m fine,” all the sudden they’re in a hurry to get somewhere? Sometimes when you spend a few minutes, a day, a week, a month or more focusing on the lives of others rather than your own, you achieve much more than you would concentrating on your self.  Every time you lend an ear for someone to speak their mind and voice their concerns you alter their future.  Whether or not you can respond with some groundbreaking advice or not, listening is one of the greatest services you can offer to humanity. 

An old Swedish saying encapsulates the idea perfectly, “speaking is silver,

silence is gold.”  You learn more about your place in the world when you take a moment to just shut your mouth and take everything in.  True knowledge comes from observation rather than articulation. If you want to see the true essence of your relationships, community and society as a whole you need to use your eyes and ears and bite your tongue.  Too often do we prematurely voice our opinion and interrupt someone or something that may have altered your mindset completely. 

Most people live in a self-centered world in which they believe they are the all-knowing focal point of the universe.  I’ll admit it, even I’ve gone through times when I tuned out the people and environment around me to focus on myself.  In fact sometimes it’s healthy to put your goals on the forefront, especially in regards to your wellbeing.  Allowing this to be a lifelong attitude, however, will prevent you from experiencing the knowledge and happiness associated with real companionship. 

Next time you find yourself dominating a conversation, do yourself a favor and rest your vocal chords.  Allow others to share their opinions, you just might find a flaw or gap in your perspective.  It’s often times difficult to sit there and listen to someone who you find blatantly uninformed or for lack of a better way to say it, just wrong.  At the very least, you can find out the attitudes, emotions and values they attach to their discourse.  Even when someone is out of their element, listening and absorbing their input will almost certainly give you a greater understand of what draws you to that person.  If you’re upset that someone won’t hear you out, realize that they more than likely have something on their mind they really need to get out in the open and lend them an ear.  Hell, listening to someone else’s problems can help you realize yours don’t carry much gravity.

Snow Madness

Snow hell has returned to Columbia and with it a band of horribly inept and perilous drivers.  I was supposed to have a test today and it wasn’t until I drove down the unplowed streets, parked on the opposite end of campus, and marched a half mile through five inches of untrodden snow to my class that our professor decided to cancel and send us home.   On my way back to the car the snowfall turned into more of a slush and by the time I reached my parking spot my beard had frozen.  I looked like Liam Neeson at the anticlimactic ending of The Grey. I was a little frustrated to say the least but was unaware that this only the beginning of a series of hardships.

The girl parked in front of me must have seen me arrive to my Jeep, but rather than waiting for me to back up and make room for her she decided to try and pull out.  Little did she know her front-wheel drive Jetta had insufficient traction.  I feel as though she tried to go in reverse but had put her car in drive because as she struggled to move and applied more pressure to the gas pedal her car shot straight forward into the car in front of her.  I decided this wasn’t my battle and got out of there but I’m pretty sure she fled the scene. 

200 yards and one left turn later I ran into the my next struggle.  A car had almost made it to the top of a hill but after being forced to stop by a j-walking student they slowly started to roll backwards in my direction.  I threw my car into reverse and pulled out of the street into a driveway.  This still barely saved me as they either lost control completely or decided the only way they could stop was to cut the wheel and swerve backwards into a tree about fifty feet away from me.  After checking to make sure they were ok I continued my journey. 

When I finally made it to a main road I saw a girl in a Mustang stuck in a snowplow made hill.  I got out to help her and she rolled down her window to say in a valley-girl-esque, damsel in distress voice, “oh my God! Like I thought my car could make it, I mean like, it’s called A MUSTANG! Like what the heck!”  I informed her that front wheel drive vehicles were unsuitable for driving on icy terrain and after digging out the area around her wheels I was able to get her car out of captivity and onto the main road. 

I decided to stop at the gas station and grab an ice-scraper.  While I was there I ended up helping two cars make it out of the lot.  Neither of them so much as waved or rolled down the window to say thanks.  My girlfriend called me and asked if we could go pick up her friend because she had no food at her house and was scared she might get snowed in and starve.  I sighed, picked my lady up and we drove all the way back to campus.  After getting her friend it seemed like every student wanted to walk in the street.  Some of them wearing all grey attire as if they didn’t realize they were camouflaged in already low-visibility conditions.

Driving back to my house I counted three all-white vehicles without their headlights on.  When we finally made it back to my street we saw a man struggling to push a van full of girls up the long hill.  For some reason I was overwhelmed with a sense of civic duty and got out to help him.  After ten minutes we finally got her to the light where she needed one last push when it turned green.  For some reason she had put the car in reverse and damn near ran us both over.  After we got them on their way we noticed a line of cars had gotten stuck on the hill.  My kindness had run thin and decided someone else could play hero, got back in my car and drove home.  After parking and heading towards the door I saw a neighbor struggling to get her car out of her parking spot.  Another fifteen minutes in the cold with no gloves I managed to dig her out enough and guide her out of her space.  She and the man I helped push the van were the only ones to show their gratitude, but I was still kind of pissed when all she did was drive thirty feet to a different parking spot where she thought she’d be less likely to get snowed in.

I’m finally inside and warm with a belly full of ram-chili.  I rekindled some joy in my heart watching my dogs out in the snow.  Rusty was high-stepping making very calculated movements while Ein was jumping, rolling and frolicking, digging and kicking up the ice.  It was hilarious watching him having so much fun as he was practically fully submerged in the snow.   After a morning of dealing with idiots who thought their two-wheel and for the most part front-wheel drive could handle these conditions, I was happy to see my miniature dachshund finding so much happiness in his first real snowfall.  Stay warm Missouri and beware the SNOWPOCALYPSE!

Live Your Dream

Have you ever noticed that the people who tell you you’re dreams are unrealistic are the ones who have long since given up on their own?  The people who say you’re crazy or living in a fantasy are the same ones who settle for mediocrity.  I don’t understand how someone can judge the goals and ambitions of another human being when they have no insight on what drives that individual.   How can someone call my passion a long shot when they’ve never been in the ring with me?  How can you question my ability if you’ve never felt my pain or cared enough to ask me about it? It doesn’t matter who supports you.  It doesn’t matter where you’re from or where you’re going.  The only person you need to believe in you is yourself.   

Every time I’ve heard the word, “can’t” I’ve proved it wrong; call it my good luck charm.  Every time I’ve heard doubt in some one’s voice I’ve shoved it back down their throat.  At some point you tune the world out and concern yourself only with those who back you.   You stop caring if people understand what you’re about and what you’re trying to accomplish.  You surround yourself with the people who remain positive influences in your life, even if they don’t fully comprehend why you endure physical abuse day in and day out.  Once you’ve gotten to that level you are no longer chasing your dream, you’re living it. 

The only time I get worried is when I start to doubt myself.  It’s not for fear of getting hurt or injuring someone else.  The only time I doubt myself is when I’m scared to let those around me down.  I lose sight as to why I enjoy what I do and start to make it about my support system.  It’s important to recognize where your uncertainty is coming from and correct your thinking.  Yes it might suck to let down a coach, a team, your friends and family cheering you on but what’s even worse is to allow those things to cloud your mind and affect your performance. 

I enjoy fighting because it's both a team and individualistic sport.  You can’t succeed in MMA, boxing, kickboxing or jiujitsu without training partners.  A punching bag doesn’t hit back, a jump rope doesn’t teach you to get back up and fight with blood in your eyes.  Once it’s time to put yourself and your training to the test the sport takes a completely new form.   You are alone in the cage and on the mats.  No one will save you and if you are fighting for any other reason to win that fight you are going to get seriously injured.  If you are fighting to survive a round, you’ll wake up wondering what happened.

          Sometimes I feel selfish for finding so much pleasure in such an egocentric lifestyle.   Then I realize there is nothing self-absorbed about finding a way to build success with your own to hands.  There is nothing vainglorious about discovering a means to provide for yourself and those you love.  Punch after punch, kick after kick and fight after fight you set the foundation for a promising future.  The problem with most fighters is they don’t anticipate life after their body gives out on them or the competition becomes too great.  If you have a dream make it a reality and have a plan for when you wake up, don’t allow it to become a nightmare.

Leggings: A National Asstravaganza

Female fashion is a very peculiar phenomenon.  It evolves at a much quicker pace than men’s fashion and not always in a favorable direction.  The reason I’m writing this blog is because I noticed almost all the people sneezing and coughing in my classes and on campus had a couple things in common.  One, they were primarily female and two they were all wearing leggings.  

            Now let me make one thing clear ladies: leggings are a single man’s best friend.  Instead of a boring walk to and from class they have a perfect view of a sacred and worshipped part of the female anatomy.   Large asses, small asses, firm asses and jiggly asses all parade around campus like some sort of ass convention.  The reason I put an emphasis on leggings being in favor of the single man is because those of us in relationships have to be very cautious.  One downward glance and all the sudden we’re getting slapped in the back of the head and never hear the end of it.  The other reason leggings suck for the committed man is although we are restricted from looking our girlfriends don’t refrain from the fad.  This means that they too are part of the daily ass-travaganza these scumbags get to gawk at and drool over. 

            I understand a woman wanting to be up-to-date and fashionable but at what expense?  My girlfriend laughed at me today because I am wearing fleece pants underneath my jeans.  Why do I do this she asked. Because it’s twenty-one fucking degrees outside and I for one celebrate my health and comfort.  I swear I saw a girl on campus today in a lightweight hoody and leggings.  Her face was pastey-white, her lips were blue and her whole body a tremble.  What about a sickly looking girl is attractive?  What about a girl who is more concerned with fitting in than her own wellbeing would come off as appealing? 

            My message to you women of Mizzou is to stop trying to be a part of the herd, especially when the herd is dumb enough to prance about practically naked in freezing weather.   For once in your life dress appropriately for the conditions. (If it's raining out wear something waterproof, if it's freezing out wear a coat, if you're going to a movie theater bring a fucking jacket!)  Save the leggings for summer and bundle up when you have icicles growing from your ass cheeks.  Ladies with men, save your figure for them.  We’re the only ones who need to know what your ass looks like.  If you’re in a relationship then someone appreciates your individuality, so don’t be so quick to conform. 

            I’ve heard all the explanations for wearing leggings.  How comfortable they are, how everyone is wearing them, how they had nothing else to wear and how they go with anything.  All men see is a girl trying desperately to show off her goods.  Girls wearing their Greek letters on their leggings scream, “choose us for homecoming our asses are incredible.”  These very girls act disgusted if they catch a guy giving them the once over.  If you’re going to wear leggings in winter you might as well go all out and wear a bikini top with them.   All I see is a miserably uncomfortable, insecure, poor excuse for a woman.  If that’s you, keep on rocking em cause it’s really bringing out your features.

           PS.  If you are more than 50 lbs over weight please stop wearing anything tight fitting at all.  I'm tired of having nightmares about your cellulite taking over the world.

To Be A Fighter

To be a fighter almost always indicates something’s wrong with you.  Everyone I train with/have trained with has some sort of demon whether they recognize it as such or not.  All you “normal” people should thank God and pray every day that boxing, kickboxing, mma, wrestling, judo, jujitsu and any other form of competitive/stylized fighting remains legal.   Allowing us to train and compete apart from the more refined and conformed branches of society maintains order.  We get our fix, we wear ourselves out, we shorten our life expectancy, and the rest of you have a fighting chance of avoiding anyone who has the will or ability to give and receive a beating. 

Fighting is engrained in nature.   Almost every species has a way of showing who’s the baddest mofo around, and like most animals humans have developed ways of doing so without anyone getting (with exception) seriously injured or killed.   Some people believe that pugilism is only around because some people have no other means of making a living. They’ll tell you we’re a bunch of animals and savages getting in a cage because we enjoy hurting people.  Any tested fighter will tell you that’s complete bullshit (other than being savages).  It wasn’t until recently that any real living could be made fighting.  The fact of the matter is even if the fighter never saw a dime, you’d still have countless venues with cards filled.  This is because fighters celebrate a higher level of competition and self-discovery than can be found in any other sport.      

A martial artist is just that, an artist.  Instead of a brush or instrument we wrap our hands, throw on pads and beat each other senseless. The sweet science of fighting allows us to refine our techniques and even more importantly find what we’re made of.  We break down each individual exchange and how to most efficiently respond to the point it becomes automatic.  We spend countless hours finding a way to implement our own styles into the fundamental framework. It takes a very special person to take a beating every day, get broken and bruised, get rejected by society and the moment you leave the gym anticipate the next day of sweat, blood and tears.  

I know so many fighters who gave up their jobs and literally lived at the gym.  I know so many fighters who lost their families and homes pursuing their dream and apart from eating sent all their money for their kids.  I moved to California, trained every day, sometimes twice a day, spent every dime I had until I finally found a job teaching kickboxing to little kids.  No more than a few weeks later while preparing for a jiujitsu tournament I snapped my arm at the elbow trying an escape I just learned.  For the first few moments I convinced myself it wasn’t broken and when it finally soaked in it wasn’t the pain or seeing my arm bent the wrong way that hurt most, it was knowing that everything I worked for was gone.  I no longer had a job, money, or an arm to fight with.  For most people that might seem like enough to quit, for a fighter it was enough to piss me off and ultimately conclude it was an opportunity to work on my left arm and kicking power anyhow. Six months of recovery later and I was back on the matts. 

A wise man told me not to be a slave to the sport.  That if I was going to fight or train fighters to make sure I was doing it because I wanted to not because I had to.  Ultimately that translated to earning my degree and saving money. Sunday I try out for Team Ambition in Columbia, Missouri where I recently returned to school.  For me fighting makes more sense than studying, training more beneficial than homework, competition more revealing than test scores. However, I want to maintain the confidence that no one will ever have more say over my financial stability than I do.

Fighting is a way of keeping my demons at bay. Anxiety, depression, stress, anger and ego get beaten out of me every time I put on my gloves.  In the cage no one can help you.  In the cage there are no shortcuts, there is no faking, there are no timeouts.  In the cage you discover what you never knew you had in you, that last breath before you pass out to make your escape, that extra push to get back to your feet, the final calculated attack you can manage before the blood in your eyes, nose and throat separate you from your senses.  I fight because I love knowing my body will be defeated long before my mind.  I love knowing heart takes you beyond the physically possible.

Key to Happiness

I’ve led a pretty interesting life filled with many lessons, the most important of which is the ability to distinguish genuine from artificial happiness. What separates the two is the longevity and depth of satisfaction it carries.  Feel free to disagree but I have found only a handful of things to hold any bearing in true happiness.  Having everything you NEED is the most fundamental and arguably the most important.  Shelter, food, water and health are in my book the only true human needs and if all these things are fulfilled happiness is just around the corner.  Mental health is as important, if not more so, than physical health and should be ones primary focus in life.  Stimulating your mind, seeking knowledge and internal reflection is key to happiness.  

            Once these four rudimentary elements of happiness are fulfilled only two things remain: companionship and personal gratification.   Surrounding yourself with genuine people is the most consistent way of lifting your spirits.  Dependable, loyal, compassionate and stable relationships tend to ease all “real” pressures and strains in life.  These people are easily recognizable.  They are the ones who can identify your ups and downs before you do and share in the emotions you’re experiencing.  They tend to make themselves available and even when you’re separated by distance or commitments they manifest with an open mind and heart.  They may disagree with you but are intrigued by your opinion and try their hardest to relate with your thought process.  Only a handful of relationships in your life will satisfy these qualifications.  If at all times you have even just one of these companions you should consider yourself extremely fortunate.

            Personal gratification comes in many forms; most are known as “instant gratifications” which lead to the artificial happiness I try to identify and weed out of my life.  Having the newest technology, trendiest clothes and most expensive car; masturbating, promiscuous sex and partying are just a few forms of personal gratification that carry with them an illusion of happiness.   All these things are luxuries people tend to coin as needs when in reality all they do is cloud our perception of what’s really important. The one form of personal gratification I consider most pure, beneficial and significant when considering one’s happiness is the fulfillment of long-term goals.   

            In order to experience this form of happiness one must first identify what they value most.  Once you’ve done that it’s as simple as deciding what about those things you have yet to accomplish or improve upon.  Finally you need a way to quantify or gauge the completion of what you want to achieve.  Setting a time by which to attain your goal is sometimes useful but unnecessary and can often lead to a negative experience.  If you're always worried about running out of time you may feel you’ve let yourself or others down and lose sight of why you set the goal in the first place.  I find open-ended goals with checkpoints in the foreseeable future allow you to remain realistic, stay on task and enjoy the rewards of patience and consistency.

            Nothing I’ve said is groundbreaking and I’m sure you’ve all had similar thoughts.  I simply find it important to remind myself of what truly matters in life and useful to put it into words.  Like I said earlier, reflection is key to mental health.  A healthy mind is a realistic and unimpressionable mind.  Without this we are coerced into believing things we don’t need will bring us happiness.  Living with a heart filled with want leads to gluttony, greed and evil.  It’s time to recognize our resources as limited and treat them as such.  Instead of trying to buy happiness build it, cultivate it, maintain it and share it.

Can Dogs have Alzheimers?

Rusty has officially lost it.  I come home after a much needed reunion with some of my old fraternity brothers to find trash strewn across the floor and a once half filled bag of stale cookies reduced to crumbs.  He wasn’t throwing up or acting too strange at first so I didn’t warrant a trip to the vet necessary.  Instead I just kept an eye on him and took him for frequent potty breaks.  The oddities ensued when we retired to bed.  Every two to three minutes rusty would become restless, hop off the bed, walk around to the other side, hop up and lay down.  Occasionally I would wake to avatar-esque sounds and see the old man staring at a wall. I was alarmed when I opened my eyes and he was awkwardly hunched in the corner staring at my girlfriend.  It appeared as if he had been watching her for quite some time and even after calling his name several times his gaze wasn’t broken. I watched him for the next couple minutes when all the sudden he snapped out of it and ran around the bed into the side table. I’m convinced if we had set up night vision cameras we’d have half a paranormal activity, canine edition blockbuster.

            This morning my girlfriend found him half way in the toilet unable to free himself.   He was obviously suffering from sleep deprivation.  He kept running into walls, chairs, falling over nothing and convinced the water in his bowl was an insufficient second to the toilet.  The moment I closed the bathroom door he started pawing it ferociously for 20 minutes.   Finally he gave up and lapped down the water in his bowl, as well as the water in my younger, dementia-free dachshund, Ein.  Three bowls later and his thirst still isn’t quenched.  He continues to pace from bathroom to dog-bowl at a feverish pace. 

Rusty is completely uninterested in his food even though he has most certainly relieved himself of last nights cookie feast.   He refuses to lay down or be still.  He is currently pacing back and forth in my living room, pausing to stare in a corner or to look at something on the floor that isn’t there.  I am convinced he is hallucinating or seeing ghosts.  Even Ein seems concerned.  He keeps walking up to Rusty and licking his face and paws, perhaps to lap up any remaining beard crumbs.  Rusty just walked up and bit the broom leaning against the wall and is precariously pacing around the couch.   I will say this, for a 12 (almost 13) year old dog that had no more than an hour of sleep last night he is impressively determined to accomplish……. something.  I’m just not so sure he even knows what that something is.   Keep the old man in your prayers, he may need an exorcism.