Shades of Grey Matter

The human psyche is a fairly puzzling thing - I think that's safe to say. Why do we do the things we do? What countless numbers of outcomes per any given situation fuel our motivations? Why do we connect with certain people? Is it the place, time, convenience, need; the list goes on.

Relationships are one of the most invaluable aspects of my life. I've made that clear, whether it be my family, my friends, significant others or my colleagues. There are people in my life that fall into one of these categories and others that encompass all; and if you know me, you know I take my relationships very seriously. I've been built to function in a support system. While, I'm independent enough to "go it alone," I don't think people were meant to thrive this way. Everyone has someone that they draw strength and insight from in some form or another. I'd be hard-pressed to think of anyone who is truly a one-man show.

Still, we often encounter people who operate regardless of the world around them - they are tough, fierce and impenetrable. If the rest of the world doesn't "get it," then to hell with them. It's not that person's problem.

The more I grow, the more I realize that people cannot operate this way and be truly happy. God knows I have tried, but to little avail. I have attempted making decisions and choices without regard to the world around me. I've been determined to carve my path in spite of what others think. I've done all of these things, but the fact of the matter is is that human beings are social creatures. We rely on interaction, contact, acceptance and love to survive emotionally.

I say these things very carefully. I do not mean to impress that I believe we should fear the opinions of the masses or to simply mold ourselves to what we're taught and told to believe; no. What I intend to impart from my personal experiences is that I'm learning more now than ever that a strong support system is one of the most invaluable things in life and worth the battle wounds and scar tissue that inevitably come while searching for one.

Days turn into weeks into months into years - we've all heard this. With the passage of time comes seasons and with seasons come change; some are inevitable and others unexpected. Growing up in Philadelphia, I'd watch the leaves turn every Fall. By winter, bare trees would freeze until Spring brought a fresh bloom. Beneath all of this, the roots that anchor these trees quietly and ceaselessly provide the nutrients necessary for the tree to survive and re-bloom every single year.

A wise friend often reminds me that relationships operate very similarly. There are those in your life who are the foundation, your roots. You trust them to always be there and sustain you no matter what season. Then, there are those people who are branches. Strong extensions of the former, the branches form the shape and character of your life. Branches can also break and fall away as time and seasons wear on just as new branches grow. Finally, there are the leaves. Entirely seasonal, these people offer shade and sustenance until the sun changes its angle and a new season begins. New leaves will grow in the name of a similar fate; they simply flutter away in the wind or die as the cold sets in.

I have been here for two years now and I'm continually learning where to find my support in LA. Who are the people I turn to and trust? Where do I connect? Why do I connect? How do I figure out which people will fall away with a strong gust of wind or who will branch out from my core or root me in unwavering support? Unfortunately, I think this only comes with experience.

Yes, this interpersonal intuition come with time, with effort and with wounds. It comes from constantly pursing these connections and feeling out the human condition. It comes from not giving up even when a branch gives out or when Winter reclaims its leaves back to the Earth. It means loving amidst all the shades of grey the exist in our heads and under the shade of our tree.

The pursuit of the relationship is one I gladly undertake. It's one I do not fear, despite its dangers and its traps. I choose to find the roots, learn from loss and love the journey.

And now we grow...

As 2010 rounds its first corner, I find myself standing back a great distance, looking at my family. After spending so much time scrutinizing the microscopic anomalies, the confusing little tidbits, the deformities; I find myself standing back a great distance, trying to see the bigger picture.

My family underwent a number of metamorphoses during Christmas. Some of these gave birth to butterflies and others left us with moths dancing around the last light of some played out argument. It was the strangest sensation - feeling my family pull apart at its seams while simultaneously growing stronger. The conflicting forces left me disheartened to say the least.

There's only some peace in silence; solace from the distress of unwanted company. Even in the silence, there's the noise of your own thoughts. I did my best to reach out to my family and talk - if only to say"hello" - and break the silence.

Warmer and warmer. A smile felt through the phone. The heavy hate that lined my stomach finally being cleansed from the body.

I think standing this far back I realize how difficult, yet blessed these last few months have been for us. Christmas began with the most overwhelming, emotive love I've ever felt. Conversely, I also experience what I think it truly means to have love taken away from you.

I say I'm blessed because I realize that my life encountered a natural disaster. It's been affected by time affords all living things. Like wildfires that arise and burn every so often - eradicating the brush and the bulk of forests, destroying life, stripping the earth of its structure and peace. After the fires subside and the smoke settles, the dead decompose and fuel new life; stronger life. A more select and stable ecosystem arises.

From this great distance, I see that mine is rising. My family's is rising. We burned to the ground. A new seed was born and planted. And now we grow. And love prevails.

Staying Present

In this day and age, where information moves at a mile a minute; in an industry where you're expected to be 10 steps ahead of the pack; in a community that is wrought with reliving its past - I'm finding this self-issued decree of staying present immensely difficult to maintain. I find that every time I'm feel ready to move on, my past comes knocking on my door. Conversely, I'm forced to look into the future and assess my moves now in order to survive the day-to-day.

A wise friend of a (also wise) friend once said, "If you straddle one foot in the past and one in the future, you'll find yourself shitting on today." Not the most eloquent turn of phrase, but an effective one nonetheless. I've said something similar many times - with all of this focus on my past (and in many cases, the future), it feels impossible to enjoy what I have now.

As I strike a balance between the past and the future - hopefully landing me somewhere in the present - my battle is being waged on the surprise ambushes from these opposing camps. Where my heart is concerned, I find more exhaustion in "moving on" then acting accordingly for any given situation. Moving on means cutting a piece of me off. It means, ideally, not gaining access to this part of me again. But what happens in the event if and when I need that access; to assess, to react, to act accordingly? I end up spending more energy pruning all of these emotional tendons then I do allowing them to slowly wither away.

I start to feel stupid asking for advice on the same old things, but again, letting go doesn't always seem like the most prudent choice or decision. As much as I fear the build up on either end of the time spectrum, I fear more losing those pieces. Are the too mutually exclusive? Can't there be a balance for both within the other balance? It's a lot to consider sometimes and more than some people care to understand, but that is where my head rests. While I try to lie between the past and the future, I work even harder at understanding and respecting both, rather than cutting either off or preemptively.

Ah yes, the all-too-familiar state of headiness. It's been a while, but it's still there, just below my surface.

Work Force Chameleon

Sorry for the delay in entrees, but as of late, I have been wholly uninspired to write a single thing. I don't know why, but everything feels like a labor. Sitting down, constructing clever thoughts and thinking about any picture larger than today just doesn't seem possible. It's amazing how much my life changes on a daily basis. Now in my second month of "unemployment," I no longer consider myself unemployed.

First of all, I want to make it clear that although the last several entrees have revolved around my current occupational shortcomings, I by no mean intend to diminish the struggles of anyone else. I don't see my state as a unique one, nor do I think that my plight is heavier than the burden or anyone else in my situation.

That being said, I no longer consider myself unemployed. I have taken the the world of freelance. This world is populated by hustlers, climbers, jacks and janes of every trade and the veritable swiss-army of assistants. We're everywhere, pushing and clawing for the next gig. Waiting patiently until our next payload. Networking intricate webs of work-related connections that would make Charlotte jealous.

Is it steady? No.

Is is safe? No.

Does that make it even more gratifying to succeed in freelance? Yes.

I consider myself a pretty self-aware person. Knowing me, I'll look back on this time in my life when I have steady work and pay and I'll long for the rag tag days of yore. The thrill of the chase and the satisfaction in a job well-earned and a job well-done.

There's nothing quite like production. You find yourself in a new situation every single day. Each morning you wake up and don a new hat: The personal assistant, the artist, the casting director, the coordinator, the handler, the stylist, the right-hand man. It's a new challenge every turn and every challenge is met by a team of people devoted to a single goal. Your crew becomes your family: you help each other, you fight and bicker, you rely on each other and eventually you congratulate each other on a job well done (or - eventually - you laugh together at a job miserably failed).

This has become my life. I hustle for the next job - the next paycheck. I work 18 hour days so I can take weeks off at a time. I sit back and trust God that all of these things will fall into place and I'll be OK. As a matter of fact, I don't think there's any other way I could survive in this field - but to have faith.

The (Emotional) State of the Union

Here's another little ditty for you.

Where to start? This month has been a roller coaster to say the least. My patience and faith have been actively tested day in and day out. Again, I'm still unemployed and that lends itself to a lot of thinking. Thinking - I'll start there. All this emotional stuff that is boiling inside of me. When this whole period of unemployment began, I found myself waking up every few days in a cold sweat. Sure, it's nice to have time to yourself and time to do your own thing, but if you're not careful, you'll find yourself spiraling into an uncontrollable, emotional abyss filled with self-doubt, pity and anger.

I try to keep busy when I'm not applying for jobs, but I've found myself in said abyss a number of days. I've spent days thinking and thinking and thinking. I've become more self-involved. I've starting having diarrhea of the mouth. I've begun taking people for granted.

I've said this before - without the love and support of my my friends and family - I would be nowhere right now, and I have actively thanked those people this past month. Still, I'm realizing that I possess another side. A side that expects more from certain people. Generally the rule seems that the closer I am to someone - the more I expect them to hold me up. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but in some cases, I've forgotten that everyone has their own personal woes. I need to listen as much as I talk. I need to absorb as much as I expel. I need to give as much as I take.

To those people whom I've exhibited this behavior with, I'm sorry. In times like this, when we're in a constant state of heightened stress and emotion, it's important to step ourside your own world and see the people around you. If you isolate yourself and focus only on you, then you miss the solutions and the stress relievers and the laughter.

I fear that this emotional stress has taken a toll on some of my relationships. I found myself snapping at a caregiver, blowing off brother and yelling at a similarly distraught friend. And while most of the issues I decided to focus on with these people are valid and need to be dealt with, I chose an inopportune time and an invalid way of expressing my thoughts. For that I'm also sorry.

There's a deeply rooted lesson here about anger management and I think it involves a lot of breathing, a lot of self-awareness and in my case, an awful lot of prayer. In many ways, I've found successes through these hardships and, in other ways, I've lost a lot of my own emotional insight.

Spring Cleaning

This week has not been an easy one. I found myself in the emotional moors of years past. It's funny how easily you can find yourself churning the same thoughts you were so sure you outgrew. I'm finding that every state of mind we live in - no matter how distant or obscure or unwanted - each one leaves a footprint behind, a shadow, a desktop shortcut that only needs a double click to be brought back to life.

I've said this many times, but I pride myself in the fact that I am who I am not only because of my present, but because of my past. I do not run away from what I've left behind and I know that things happen for a reason. Well, I think I might need to really own up to my assertions.

Even the most removed emotions - that state-of-mind we never want to encounter again - they still exist within us. They don't disappear never to be seen again; instead, they leave a little imprint behind, more easily accessible then I'd like to pretend. Nevertheless, they are there for a reason. Maybe it's a defense mechanism, a cautious reminder of our mistakes, a friendly nudge to remember the ones we've lost, a quick smack on the back of our heads that screams, "What are you thinking?!" Whatever it may be, it exists. There's no use pretending it doesn't.

I found myself getting quite a few reminders, nudges and smacks this week. One after the other really - and I found myself sifting through my emotional closet, trying to reorganize some things, hide some things, make room for some new things. But what started out as frantic Spring cleaning (as today is the first day of Spring .... already?) ended in praise.

I'm realizing that this emotional recall is a blessing in disguise. It gives me layers and armor and pieces to my growing puzzle. These imprints, once identified, will be recognized forever. I won't have to worry about what's going on inside of me or why I feel this way - I'll already know because I've been here before. I'll be able to help others from my personal experiences.

It's important in all of this, however, not to get caught in the trap: "I'm here again? I haven't really grown at all!" It's easy to feel this way about your life from time to time, but its crucial to remember that a lesson has many points - and sometimes it's necessary to reread your notes to understand the full teaching.

This week has not been the easiest one, but I cry because I remember, I remember because I love, and I love because I grow. We are in a constant state of growth.

Spiritual Cleansing?

I've been taking classes at my church, Oasis, for the past few months and this week I started a new one: The Road to Freedom. The class essentially is an opportunity to examine the things in your life that take precedence over your relationship with God, isolate them and rid yourself of them. It's a three week class: Week 1 Introduction, Week 2 Action, Week 3 Follow Up.

I went into this class with a pretty open heart - although, truth be told, I've been struggling with my own demons lately. I've found myself questioning my motives for being at church or in class. I sometimes have this sinking feeling that I'm not worthy of being there or that I'm not good enough. I think everyone feels that at some point or another. Still, I know none of this is true, but as a Christian getting back into the swing of things, that a difficult feeling to push aside.

Anyway, so I went to class, not really knowing what to expect, but available to the concept. Half way through, I noticed how incredibly uncomfortable I was with what the leaders were talking about. The exercise they described really put me in a weird state of mind. I won't go into the details as I don't want anyone to be turned off to something of a similar nature just because of my opinions.

I left that night, deciding I wouldn't come back for this particular class. At the same time, I felt wrong for not adhering to these ideas. I felt that maybe this made me weaker and younger in my faith. I felt guilty that I had decided to "ignore God." So what does one do when they are in a heightened state of guilt? Call mom.

I explained the situation to my mother and before I can finish she says, "Oh this just doesn't sound right for you!!" I tried to explain to her that I felt like maybe because I was so uncomfortable, I should just suffer in silence and complete the course; that I might be silencing a great opportunity because a small discomfort. My mom explained to me (in that way all mothers can make everything seem crystal clear) that spiritual growth was not contingent on suffering. The church is led my human beings, not God Himself. There are many methods for many believers and there is no obligation on my part to participate in every form of spiritual reproof. "And besides, I don't think you're the type of person who would respond to a class like this. I just know you."

I was blessed with a mother who has an incredible intuition and she's right. I have had nothing but positive experiences at Oasis Church and this was the first thing I encountered that made me question the motives of its leaders. I realized that I didn't have to be discouraged about this. Everyone has a different way of worshipping and being close to God. There's no reason why I should feel inferior for not responding to one method.

Thanks for clearing that up mom.

Weird

1. Passed out all day on the beach. Got seriously burned. It was February.

2. Watched as a naked man stood on the cross of a church steeple next to my house. He proclaimed that he was ready to jump - he didn't believe in God or the institution of the Church. He went to the bathroom in his hand and smeared it on the cross. After 10 hours, he was finally coerced off the cross to the ground. He's safe. I went to church twice on Sunday.

3. Talked a little too much and realized my friends are pretty nice for listening to me all the time.

4. Made a long "To Do" list mentally all weekend - it involved bills and career moves.

5. Couldn't turn my brain off this weekend. Thought about too many scenarios. Made some valiant efforts. Made some realizations. Some made me angry - others surprised me. One of them is that I've become a person willing to be vulnerable. Another is that I'm a person who knows what he wants.

6. Decided to take some more things into my own hands.

7. Decide to relinquish control of some things.

8. Talked to my Four this weekend. It's official - we're adults. Our friendships have started over and it's going to take more effort than we originally thought to stay close. I miss you guys.

9. Hung out on my roof with my building-mates to tan. Had a Tecate, some Ruffles and a Slurpie - looked out over the roof's edge and stared at the snow-capped mountains behind Downtown sky line

10. I realized that I love Los Angeles and California.

"It's the ciiiiircle of Life"

I've noticed that in the past few weeks, a number of friends have confronted me about life after graduation and/or the transition into adulthood. I find this comforting and I'll tell you why. It's not necessarily that after nearly a year of adult life, I feel better equipped than said friends or that I could impart some grand knowledge that would protect them from the superfunk that inevitably follows graduation. No, on the contrary, I think it's because during a month where growth has been very hard to see in my own life, it's an incredible feeling to realize that I'm still here, struggling away.

A good friend once told me: "Mark, relax. Slowdown." OK, actually, every friend I've ever had has said that to me, as well as, every adult, family member, clergyman, doctor, crossing guard, passerby, dog .... you get the point. I wouldn't quite say that I've rushed through life, but I have been extremely proactive. School was never really my cup of tea - eight grade was probably my favorite year - and after that it just turns into a game and full of ups and downs and implications, etc. In the end, I graduated college a year early and I maintain that this was the best decision I could have made regarding my college and future career. There's a number of reasons for that, but I'll stay on topic.

On a larger scale, I'm realizing the steps that my peer group has taken these past months. Employed or not, in a relationship or not, all together or falling apart - we're HERE. We aren't giving up and running home. We're fighting and struggling and hurting, and you know what? That's an incredible thing. Hardship makes success that much more enjoyable. Now, the next group is graduating and moving on and looking for advice on the hump. We're seasoned fighters ready to add to our numbers!

On a personal scale, I've managed the superfunk. Is it still a struggle at times? Of course! That's just a part of life, but in the grand scheme of things, I've successfully seen my way through the hardest transitory period in my life (so far). And truth be told, I don't feel like the same, frazzled, worried, flighty period that I was a year ago. I understand the value of my work, the value of my faith, and the value of my relationships. This year has presented many obstacles, blessings and lessons learned. I keep thinking about where I was a year ago today and how vastly different my life is now. I'm at a significant turning point in my life. That is, I now find myself looking back and reflecting instead of obsessing with a future I ultimately can't control right now.

It's funny. This period of your life is everything everyone tell you it is - and at the same time - nothing that you could possibly expect.

Blood

"Please let the blood we had stay pure."
Although we part and love no more.

You said, "In you, I'll seek my growth"
In you, I saw a larger hope.

But time stops. Decisions hard.
Blood clots and leaves our bodies scarred.

No pressure or pulse or coursing veins
Where arms embraced, I now feel strains.

These crimson rivers still bring life
Purifies and settles strife.

Time resumes and thoughts unmask
Our blood is pure. My heart's relaxed.

What little sense presented itself
Our memories still frozen on my shelf.

An understanding, now so clear.
Our blood is pure. So, have no fear.

Our blood brought us from childhood
Made bodies strong and pain withstood

It fed our brains with philosophies
Made real our impossibilities

This blood transports with it disease
And ages our bodies without reprieve

Growth gives way to change and death
Time stops no more and stales our breath

But, blood feeds cells that fuel our brain
Memories in time forever remain

If time heals all, blood clots the wounds
Air fills the lungs and laughs resume

So, our blood is pure. Our bodies strong.
Growth fuels new blood and friendship long.

So, our blood is pure. Life starts anew
This friendship will always stay with you.

What a trip!

I will provide no explanation for the following term and its attached rules:

THE WANT LIST

1. Everyone has a Want List
2. It's OK that you have one
3. Want Lists always change
4. It's OK that they change
5. Needs are not wants and wants are not needs
6. It's OK if your Want List is different in the future - people will understand

*Because life is just a series of choices - and choices are determined by the Want List*

December 11, 2007

I recently came across an old journal that my Boston roommate, Mahri gave me for my 21st birthday. The first entry I wrote (6 months later) was pretty heavy. Reading it now, I realize that I sometimes I feel like I'm in the same place. As the entry continues, I know that I've grown so much and that I'm still growing. It's a little melodramatic ... but I think the sentiments are extremely relevant to my life now. Rather than over explain it, I'll just get to it:

I just looked at myself in the mirror for the first time. I resisted for a while - but I looked. I searched my own face. Do I see the face of God or someone who I utterly lost?

"What's going on inside there?"

I am ... a murderer, a lover, a pornographer, a sinner, a man, a man, a wanderer, an explorer, a peace-keeper, a musician, a singer, a waiter, a butler, a mask-maker, a rock, a foundation, a house, a shack, a monster, a pest, a conqueror, a soldier, a believer, a friend, a lover, a child, a boy, I am strong.

In the search for what is, was, what could be and what will never be - I am lost. For the past few months - most notably, since summer - I have felt like I was on the brink of a realization... of coming to peace with myself. I've never felt so grounded in the truth of myself. Surprise! That didn't last (in its original form anyway). No kidding. In retrospect, this semester has pushed me to my limits - how far could I take myself? Overextended, overanxious, overambitious, overjoyed:

I am everything and nothing
I am not night or day
I am not whole or in pieces
I have a foundation
The more I give up control, the more I'm given!
The harder I grasp, the more things slip through my fingers

I will drive away from Boston in a week and a day and feel accomplished. At least I hope so. I hope I find relief and release and - something. The sermon at church this week was about faith and split into three parts: expectation, disillusionment, hope.

As Christians (and HUMANS) we wake up and hope for the unexpected to remove this sense of disillusion. As one of the three teachers that day put it: "We close our eyes at night hoping to wake up and something will have changed. That this nightmare will be over." When she said this, I nearly lost it. Moments before, I thought to myself: "I wish I wasn't who I was now. I want to be Mark from three years ago, before school." I wish and hope God will miraculously change me. That's unrealistic. If I want to change, I need to actively seek it and want it, and I can't wish for no pain or confusion and inner peace- all of this is earned. I know - I'm earning this now.

I'm earning this new identity. God is apart of my identity, but to what capacity? This semester, I have actively sought out church more and returned more to that sense of weekly renewal and forcing myself to be helpless and not in control. Try it. Next time I read this - NO MATTER WHAT you are struggling to control - I dare you to let go and put it in God's hands. No matter what.

So I read this, and I thought to myself, "Wow, how relevant!" (Given, I don't feel like a shell of a human, or nearly as lost as I was then) For all intensive purposes, I'm pretty damn proud of how I was able to assemble my life here. Still, a lot of the lessons I was frantically trying to pen at the time still ring true! I'm not going to wake up one day and have things fall into place. I can't try to control every aspect of my life. I am everything on that list ... probably more.

I think the long and the short of this lesson is simple: Get out of my head and away from the pen and paper, stop talking ... and just do. Ride the wave and relax. Stay proactive and trust that things will work out as they should.

OK, it's been getting too real lately. So for shits: here's a picture of my parents' dog, Maximus.

Night all.

Cardboard Testimonies

This Sunday at Oasis (church), the message was about getting back to "the Way"; that is, the plan God has for your life, following Him, etc.

I was struggling a little through the sermon, but the end portion really hit home. Pastor Phillip called up a group of people for a presentation called Cardboard Testimonies. While the music team played and sang, one by one, these people took center stage and held up their placards. The one side would have a word, phrase or sentence about their life before Christ. They then flipped the board over and it was the same regarding their life after Christ.

This really hit home as I've been struggling to get back to church after so long. Having grown up in the church and participating in almost every activity possible, religion was always a social aspiration for me. As I continue to grow and mature in my adult life, I'm finding that it's just me and God; no one else. I left the whole church thing behind for a while and now I'm getting back.

It's strange because I'm realizing that I have neglected the basics of Christianity. I have felt awkward and alone in church for a while, feeling like I was a leper in a sea of the saved. Seeing this presentation was almost debilitating. Here were these people, congregation members and leaders alike sharing their struggles with all of us. Their ailments ranged from "snobbish Christian attitude" to cancer to prostitution.

I couldn't believe it. All of these people struggle. Most with things far worse than any plight of mine. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten how broken we all are. I'm not the only one who feels like this or that struggles. It's incredible the things I've forgotten while trying to "find myself." I'm finding myself here more and more each week - and it's still a struggle. It doesn't disappear at church, but I'm given the strength to overcome my fears and anxieties and grow. I grow. I am growing. It's something I continually have to remind myself.

A Point of Reference

The few days have been extremely interesting/tiresome/relieving.

It started Saturday. I don't know if I've made this clear about my life right now, but I work 5 days a week for the Executives of music video and commercial production at a high traffic production company. On top of my 50ish hour work week, I've been spending my Saturdays working as a PA on a reality show (whose name I can't disclose right now apparently). This entails 12 hours of PA-type work. The following is a list of typical PA-type requests:

"Mark!! Yes, you with the glasses! Can you please...."

1. "Bring this coffee to the talent crafty table?"
2. " Sort out these receipts?"
3. "Take x to the bathroom/smoking break/ personal freak out session?"
4. "Stand over there and hold that clip board"
5. "Take down the entire (120 person) crew's walkie numbers"

Me: "Don't we have that on a list already??"
Them: "Somewhere. I think it's in the production office"
Me: "Oh, so can I go get it?"
Them: "Um, I don't think it's printed. Yea, no, do it by hand, we need it now"
Me: "For what...."
Them: "Do you want to go back to standing over there with the clip board?"
Me: "Copy that."

Anyway, I digress - the point is, is that I work a lot. So my emotional/physical wherewithal is running dry. This particular Saturday, I was on set until 2 am. I'm certainly not complaining. I willingly signed up for this type of work. I just wanted to give a point of reference for the next 48 hours.

Sunday.

After going to bed at 3:30, I woke up a few hours later. I turned over to disable my alarm set for the day before and remembered that Noelle has asked me to come visit this church she's been going to. I thought about telling I didn't feel well or that I was still an empty shell of a PA from the night before, but I decided I should get up and go. We've talked about it for a while and, needless to say, I haven't been too proactive about following up on the offer.

I went. Oasis Church on Wilshire Blvd near my house. It was something like a religious rock concert complete with full lighting package, big TV's, band, singers, etc.. Apparently, the Los Angeles church imported the fever of Southern Gospel parishioners and handed it out at the door. Short of baptizing people on the spot, the house was filled with young and old all singing and worshiping. This wasn't the church I was brought up in.

Church/religion to me, at this age, has been a rocky road. I associate these things with my past, my childhood and my social scene. I went to Oasis and immediately saw my childhood. The people, the talk, the attitude - everything associated with my memory was there. The only thing that wasn't there - was me. Per Noelle's pretty spot-on analysis, I'm realizing that the difficulty in realizing my adult relationship with my faith is a product of the disconnect between adult Mark and childhood Mark. Making that connection is part of what's been holding me back.

Nevertheless, I sat through the service, my eyes open during prayer, whispering scrutinizing remarks to Noelle, judging every gesture of the pastor. Time passed and suddenly I found my tired, exhausted body was letting go of stress and tension - and if there's anything that 3 years of acting school taught me - it's that a true release of stress will amount in a truth release of emotions. I blame work and weekend work and responsibility for what happened next. I had to fight back tears. Anyone who knows me, knows that I do not cry (unless I've drunk a debatable amount during senior week of college - then? I cry. A lot.)

So what pulled the trigger? Just words, verses, the Bible. No pastoral interpretation, no writhing parishioner, just the passage - hearing it out loud - tore me apart.

Since then, I've been thinking a lot.

Sunday night, I was sharing this all with my mother, who couldn't have been happier for my and Noelle's prodigal return, and our conversation began evolving. Slowly at first, from the church and sermon into biblical interpretation, into controversial issues, into my life and beyond. For some reason, without warning, my mother and I were analyzing my childhood. Finally, I divulged detail after detail of my college experiment. This includes the partying, the drinking, the "sexual encounters."

Granted, there wasn't too much detail - but enough for a relationship breakthrough with my mother. She provided the details of my childhood that gave me a point of reference for how I became adult mark and I gave her my point of reference for who I am now.

And how does my mother respond? Not with an assault of biblical proportions, but by asking me question after question. Why? Who? How? Detail after detail finally gave way to something I never thought I hear come from my mother's mouth. "Take your time, Mark. You'll figure you're life out and there's not rush right now to know everything about yourself."

It's a lot, I know. But there it is, typed out before me and I don't have to obscurely reference this period of my life anymore. I'm exposed. Our notions about who I am - me, Mark - are finally in line with one another.

I still don't grasp what this weekend means for my life. I can still feel the previous weights tediously hanging around my body, aching for the last harness to release these from my life. I don't know if that moment will ever actually come, but I do feel that I'm at an impasse. This is one of those moments where you're given a choice in your journey.

But, for once, I'm not going to rush into the next phase of my life. I'm going to think this one through and make a choice when I'm ready. If the tortoise can win the race slowly and steadily - then so can I. So in the meantime, I think I need a nap to clear my head.

Today's Lesson: Relative Geography

So I was talking to Natalie today about Boston and Los Angeles and it suddenly hit me: A 20 minute drive in Los Angeles is equivalent to a 20 minutes walk in Boston. Am I so jaded that I completely forgot that while living in Boston, I was within a 20 minutes walk of almost anything I needed? Let's compare:

Commute to School - 10 minute walk from my apartment across the commons
Commute to Work - 15 minute drive from my apartment across the 10 Freeway

Trip for Cafe Podema (Frozen Yogurt) - 3 minute walk around the corner from my aparment
Trip to Yogurtland (Fresh Vegetables) - 5 minute drive up La Brea from my apartment

Frantic Trip(s) to Mass General Hospital - 10/7/3 minute walk/jog/sprint to ER
Frantic Trip to Cedar Sinai Hospital - 15/15/15 minute Sunday stroll/drive/race to ER

Those are just a few examples of the relative distances I speak of. I just included the essentials, in their order of importance. The last one - the driving style doesn't matter where traffic is involved in Los Angeles.

Let's take a look at the bigger picture.

Exhibit A:

This is Boston proper. Daily business was conducted more or less in this area. I even included part of Cambridge for good measure. I lived in the area marked Beacon Hill with Mahri. Gas lamps, cobblestones and little shops everywhere. I miss it.

Exhibit B

This is the Greater Los Angeles area. Daily business can be conducted anywhere on this map. You never know where the day's work will take you. Assistant runs at work, weekend gigs on set, auditioning and the like - it's all fair game. If you can make it out, I live right next to that red dot north of the 10, South of the 101, East of the 405 and West of the 110. Good, you'll never figure that one out.

So what does this lesson teach us? What the hell were we thinking in Boston? Remember all those times that we were too lazy to take the 15 minutes commute to a show in Cambridge. Or a 10 minute walk back to school because you left your cell phone in the computer lab was a hassle? Or how about whining that someone lives in Coolidge Corner?! How lame to use distance as an excuse for not seeing friends while living in Boston. I guess, for that, I'm sorry.

I miss that Boston geographic scale. I remember leaving the city for breaks and vacations, how strange it was to look in the rear view mirror and see my little bubble of a city disappear into the horizon. Everything I needed was in this little microcosm. Now, that perspective is from a window seat of a Delta flight. As the plane swings over the coastline and turns back East, back to what used to be home, this perspective becomes more and more familiar. My perspectives are shifting constantly, but it's only every now and then that I am aware of the subconscious realignment. I miss Boston, but now, I'd also miss LA - I'd miss it a very great deal.

Oh, I almost forgot a crucial part to this lesson. What about the perspective and relative geography of my childhood? Here's that map.

Exhibit C

The King of Prussia Mall.

THE END.

A couple of realizations

When people ask me about living in Los Angeles: "What's it like out there?" "Is it hard to move West from the East?" "Is it lonely?" - I've always said that the most important thing in LA is a strong support system. That's a pretty tall order no matter where you live. Building relationships on a solid foundation of trust can be a difficult task. It seems even harder in an new environment and harder still in a place like LA.

I had a few unsettling realizations this weekend.

There always comes a point in my stays in LA where I start to really see people. I mean, I begin to see how they value their relationships, what they want in life and what their real intentions are. That's pretty difficult to face and at this point of my trip, I usually get to run away from the ugly truth and go home. I no longer have that luxury. Now, my challenge is seeing these qualities and dealing with it. I am struggling between two extremes: Being open to the world around me, so I am available to meet new people and learn new things. Am I too open? Am I making my self susceptible to the superficiality around me? Am I setting myself up to get hurt. The other extreme is keeping myself guarded. I am doing my best to tread lightly through this alien landscape. In the wake of the former, I close up as to protect myself from rejection and loneliness. Am I missing out? Which of the two is worse.

A harder realization, along with recognizing the intentions of the people around me, is that everyone here wants somethings. They want an "in," a "connection." They want their name on a list, a VIP booth and the spot closest to the celebrity around them. I suppose that's everywhere, but it is definitely more apparent in this setting. I marvel how well people in Los Angeles gamble. they play their connections like cards, carefully wielding their best hand at the most opportune moment. Everyone, anywhere, likes to feel that they have some control over the people around them; they want power. I hate that people treat others like their meal ticket, their "in," their connection. I hate that unless you are privy to the exclusive, you can't be privy to the general populace. I hate feeling like that's how you make friends here. And even worse, I hate that despite all this 'hate', I am realizing that I am also one of these people. I can complain about this day-in and day-out, but that sad truth is is that, at least part of me, wants to be friends with "the cool kids" and be in the "in crowd."

Finally, I had a realization on Sunday. Oh, the Sunday realization. I think this comes every week now. It started a while ago. It wasn't anything more than an itch, a little bug bite, an annoyance that I swatted away from time to time. Over time, the fly got bigger, the bite stronger and the venom more toxic. Every Sunday evening, I toss and turn in my bed, struggling to come to grips with my life here. I wake up the next morning, barely rested, mind reeling, unable pull myself from under my sheets. At this age, the ripe old age of 22, it's becoming clearer to me that now is the time to pursue my dreams. Every day I need to take a proactive step towards one goal before I can achieve many. This leads to another realization about my life. One that requires a leap of faith. Per my usual neurosis, I am obsessing over something that is ultimately not in my control. Once again, I need to let go to get by. Once I voice my concern to the universe, and let things be, it will work out. And I can safely say that after 22 years, that doesn't get any easier.

Here's one more realization actually. That support system I always talk about. That oh-so-necessary foundation - I realized this weekend that I'm actually finding one. A new one. I will never be able to replace the people that have carried through life this far; that foursome from the formative years, my family from college and now, a shiny new set of roots. Roots that keep me aware and grounded and abreast of the reality of my life here. I am fortunate for this final realization. Without this last one, those others would most likely snowball into a nervous breakdown. So, with that I say: Thank you for being there and understanding and slapping me across the face when I act like an asshole, because anyone who knows me well enough knows that I need to be slapped now and again.

Balancing Act

I'm beginning to wonder where the balance is between...

work and creativity
patience and happiness
choice and fate
East and West
want and need.

I hate being a downer and I'm not a depressive type at all, but I'm just having one of those overly introspective days where I constantly analyze everything in my life. Were the choices I made in the past four months the right ones? Am I being proactive about my passions? Am I stuck on a track of my own design?

Well, first of all, I know that I have to stand by my choices. Doubt is a poison that infects every aspect of my life - if I let it. I know that my passions in life sometimes need to secondary to my needs.

I don't have an easy justification for that last question. I don't know if I'm stuck. What I do know, is that being pinned down, stagnant, stuck; that's probably my biggest fear in life. Commitment hates me and I hate commitment. There have been (and are) a few instances in my life where I have actively sought commitment. Those few instances usually come at a point where I feel ready and willing to relinquish control in that area of my life. Allowing myself to not rely on my own micromanagement is a big deal. I think these instances also come when I am happy with that area of my life. The happier I am, the more likely I am to let another someone or something else in.

Sharing: that's a pretty tall order. As a child, it's a hard lesson to learn and share your brand new toy with your siblings or classmates. So why, after 22 years, doesn't it get any easier?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not unhappy. I'm very pleased with how far I've come these past few months. I've jump so many hurdles and have had the opportunity to celebrate so many victories.

Still, sometimes, I just wake up with these and a hundred more questions about my own life. So again, I ask: Where is the balance? How does/can someone balance their emotional and physical life? Is there a balance? A sense of peace? A nirvana? Or are we all part of life's playground - seesawing our way through life?