Monticello, Utah

Have you heard of it? You may be thinking, "hmmmm.... it sounds familiar," but that's because it took its name from the famous estate of Thomas Jefferson. If you're one of my potential new-found readers from out in Colorado(Thanks Polly), you may have actually heard of it, but never been there. If not, it seems to me like it's worth a peek.

In my blog yesterday, the fun one, I mentioned meeting my brother halfway when I fly out to Denver in July. Halfway between Phoenix and Denver is right around the Four Corners. When I realized this, I almost just dropped everything, determined to see this marvel. But then I thought about it, in a philosophical way, and realized it's only special because cartographers got lazy and started drawing boxes that led to four states coming together at a corner. It's amazing how easy it is to make something lose it's luster if you peel back the layers.

The point of this trip, the part where I meet my brother anyway, is to strip ourselves of as many luxuries as we can. So to go to a location with people snapping pictures and reading pamphlets from kiosks isn't ideal. My main goal is to hike a mountain, and maybe even camp one. Just for fun. I searched nearby mountain ranges and came up with a few options. Then I cross-checked them with cities nearby so we could make a pit-stop if we needed and found the combination of Monticello, Utah and the nearby Abajo Mountains.

It was like striking gold. The mountains were big, but not difficult, perfect for a group of amateurs. There are bike trails and rivers and everything a wannabe outdoorsman could want. The mountains seemed perfect. But don't forget the city. 

I got my info from Wikipedia, so you know it's good: Monticello, Utah

It's a town founded by Mormons and there's only about 2,000 people in it. How personal! It's at the base of the Abajo Mountains so the view is going to be incredible. And then there's this:

The Hideout

The 23rd ranked municipal golf course in the country. I am totally an amateur golfer (although I played my first time this Saturday and got several pars through 9 and just missed a birdie) but I thought this was a great opportunity. 

Mapping out that route from Phoenix to Denver provided a bit of serendipity. I found a tiny little city that few of you know and that I think I will love. It makes you wonder what other hidden nuggets of cities are around, and why I haven't taken the initiative to see more of them.

Yes

I'm going to start approaching this blog a little differently from here on out. What this will likely have to become in order to survive is a place to channel momentary thoughts, not life's philosophies to be shared when I feel like writing. Countless amounts of people have told me that I have to blog about Europe/Spain when I go and because I will want to spend as little time in front of a computer as possible, my previous expanding blog posts will have to step aside for thoughts of the aside. 

"I would love to come out to Denver this summer," I said to my aunt last weekend. "Yes, I'm gonna try to make it happen."

And now I just bought my ticket to Denver, for under $300 for 6 days. Wow, that's exciting. I'll be there July 4th-10th, all because I said "yes."

I have been saving money far more effectively than I ever could have imagined and I am on pace to be very comfortable when going abroad(as long as I choose not to party hard 24/7). And when my aunt told me in a doubtful voice that she'd love to see me again before I left, I said "yes." 

Who knew that one word could be so liberating. People always say "why not," but instead of just saying, try feeling it. Try removing that barrier of debilitating practical limitations and ingrained hesitation. Just get rid of those and then say "yes" without a single doubt in your decision. 

I'm going to Denver in July. I'm going to go further West than I ever have been. I'm going to drive hours and hours South to meet my brother halfway. I'm going to climb whatever mountain is nearest us when we meet. Hell, I'm going to eat a Rocky Mountain Oyster if I can.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!

Sure, there is too much of a good thing, and saying yes to everything could probably lead to overexertion or something like that, but I think that's only in the case of things you wouldn't always say "yes" to in ideal conditions. If you want to do something, do whatever you can to make "yes" possible. I saved money and asked off work. It's a "yes" for me, it should be for you too.

And in about 4 months it will be "si" for me.

Here's to You, Tricia

To all of my loyal followers(Mom and Grandma), it seems that I have fallen off the face of the planet. Or at least fallen off the responsibility of my blog. When I began this, as usually is the case with me, I had grandiose visions of what it could and would be, because of a culmination of frustrations that I thought would provide endless topics of interest. However, the blog has become, as I said before, a responsibility. And one that I have not been good at maintaining. I fear that blog posts will become more infrequent as summer approaches and I get out of my school, the one place that allows me to be trapped with nothing to do but seek an outlet. 

But I do have a topic, and as you may have guessed from the photo, it concerns courage. You may have also guessed it concerned cowardice, and in a way, the two are united by a polar relationship, but what I will speak on today concerns the more admirable trait. Then again, I think it is the less common one, so the opportunity to write about it is like a bird watcher finding a dodo. Well not quite, but you get what I mean.

This weekend I will be going home for the first time since Christmas, the longest such gap I have ever had. Part of it is a car that is rapidly losing my confidence. Another part is me priming myself for the more expansive periods of time I will be from home. A final part is an actual emotional separation. I have slowly changed in the way that I feel that I do not have a static "home," so being out and about is more comfortable than being with the familiar, as I have said in previous posts. 

So what prompted my decision to come home? Why, it is so that I can witness courage.

My cousin(technically second, but even cousin feels too separate for the relationship) Tricia and her mother will be visiting the area so that she can speak to the members of her former church. If you do not know her, you may ask why does she deserve an audience? And the answer is simple: she is one of the most courageous people I have met. 

I still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when my grandma called me to tell me that Tricia's husband Robb passed away in his sleep. The feeling of dread has still never entirely left me since that phone call. It was one of those moments that lead some people to seek out a higher power, because there can be no reason capable of human understanding as to why something so horrific would happen. They are such good people. And no "they" became "her."

Tricia, amazingly, survived the ordeal, but continues fighting everyday with that loss and the job of being a widow raising two young boys. She of course has help, but that battle is nearly insurmountable. Yet she continues to climb. 

And while it is not hard for you to immediately see the courage in this situation, there is still more. Tricia started a blog detailing how she felt during the whole situation, how she missed Robb and what it was like raising two young boys. She put herself out there for all to see, and will do so again in front of a large audience at her church this Friday. 

I cannot speak for Tricia, but as I imagine it all, this does not feel like courage to her. I imagine that it started out as a release for her. When Robb passed, her emotions likely were bubbling up constantly and spilling out in ways she did not enjoy, so she had to channel them somehow. I believe that's how the blog started. And for a while, it was probably one of the best forms of therapy. At that point, it's true, there may not have been courage involved, because she was doing it for herself. 

But as her blog developed, so did her audience. And what started as a release became a retreat for others. Tricia had to become transparent for others so that they could read into her lives and draw inspiration into their own. As a fellow(yet very amateur) blog writer, I know the difficulty that comes with the transition of this being for you becoming a responsibility for others. And while I make general observations about humanity, Tricia posts the ins and outs of her life, and there is some incredibly personal stuff on there. 

And what's even more courageous, she has allowed herself to develop as a writer and as a person through all of it. She's getting buzz about book deals and readings and all kinds of things. People want to hear her, and she's letting them. Let me break this down for you.

She had the courage to: 

1. Blog about a very personal event

2. Let this personal event be a responsibility for others, and not just herself

3. Embrace this awful event as an opportunity grow as a person and as a contributor to this world.

What likely would have knocked all of us on our asses for years, maybe even a decade, has in a little over a year, become an undeniable source of inspiration for thousands and thousands of people because of Tricia's courage to take that blow and in turn, knock it on its ass. If fate had a hand in Robb's passing, I bet it did not know what kind of woman it was dealing with. 

So here's to you, Tricia, with your glowing smile and your charming laugh. Here's to your transparency and your incessant will to help. Here's to your determination to not let this thing beat you. Here's to your being a mother, and the caliber of mother you are. 

Lastly, here's to your courage, which will more than you can imagine, make believers out of so many people who don't know how to believe. We can look to you and know that sometimes, even when it seems impossible, we have to just believe.  

Love you, Cousin. See you Saturday.

What Are Brothers For?

This doesn't exactly represent my brother and myself entirely well, but it captures the idea of one of the answers to my titular question.

I cannot speak for every set of brothers out there, so this may not all stand true for them, but I will try my best to explain what it is to have a brother. Frankly, it's unlike anything else. I have never believed in compatibility derived simply from blood relation, but there is something between my brother and I, who have very little in common, that makes our relationship stronger than any other I have. I do not miss anybody when I go somewhere, anyone except my brother. I will try to give you some answers to my question through anecdotes and then I will probably just make a list of others that I don't want to elaborate on or can't but imagine them to be a role for a brother.

Here are a few stories:

This first one is a retelling through pieces of stories from family members, as I can barely remember this.

Story 1

When I was 14, he was 12, we went to Myrtle Beach for the third time in our lives, second time we could remember. My brother, if you don't know him, was a very hyper child and at times could influence me to be the same way. However, at 14, I was determined to be mature and facilitate between the adults and the kids. Because you know, 14 is time to stop being a kid. But anyway, as usual, my brother was being his rambunctious self and it seemed to have been getting on the nerves of the adults. These adults will try to use other language to describe that, but that's the best way to do so. 

Multiple times we were sat down by our family members and told to calm down, these words moreso for him and pleading me to calm him down myself. One time, when apparently I recognized it as being the last straw for my brother and the frustration was palpable among the adults, I suppose I decided to take things in to my own hands. I grabbed him and told him we should go down to the beach, unthreateningly so, and he followed. We walked past my uncle who was reading on the porch and I can imagine from his point of view watching me as I pushed an unsuspecting lamb into my trap. We walked down the steps and once at the bottom, I imagine I started verbalizing how he needed to stop. Knowing how these interactions typically went, he probably wasn't listening, so I resorted to another method. Here is where my sensory memory gives me some brief flashes.

I remember hitting him first with those foam noodles you use to float in water and eventually pinning his face in the sand and rubbing it into the earth. That's the most I remember clearly, but I imagine I made extreme threats through gritted teeth as he angrily pleaded me to get off of him. Once I was satisfied that my point was made, I walked up the steps without a glance at my uncle and he told him to sit down to chat. 

It is said my brother behaved pretty well the rest of the trip.

Story 2

Once I went to the University of Cincinnati for a visit, it was never a doubt that I would attend college there. And so it happened. It was an easier decision than expected, but the hardest part was leaving my brother. And since I was gone so often, when I came home it was easier to get along. Now my parents will say it never changed, because we still bickered plenty, but that's brotherhood. Only him and I can tell you we truly got along better, and we did.

I can't remember the exact weekend or time I came home to visit, but I think it was right before we knew we wouldn't see each other for a while, so I want to say it was right before he left for the Air Force. Nobody was home and we were silently dreading my going to Cincinnati, which was coming soon. As time ticked down and I knew I couldn't drag it out any longer, I started to head out. We hugged as usual, no tears or anything girly like that, but to ease the pain, we started joking. 

I remember walking down the steps in our garage and for whatever reason, rap music videos became the topic. More specifically, random white guys dancing horribly in the background was the topic. I was at the bottom of the steps, slowly walking away as he demonstrated the moves, which consisted of simultaneous yet out-of-sync pelvic thrusts, headbangs, punching fists and an accompanying, overly loud "WOOOOO!!!!" As he did it I laughed, and in turn mimicked him, resulting in his laugh. We went back and forth for a little until we were both literally doubled over, laughing to hysterical tears. I slowly made my way to the car, through fits of literally painful laughter, and got in and drove off with a wave. 

Before I got to the end of the street, the grandparent-disapproved activity of texting while driving commenced (I'm including it because it's the cutest part). The conversation went something like this.

Me: That was soooo dumb

Him: Yeah but frickin hilarious

Me: Haha true, oh well.

Him: I'll miss you man

Me: We'll see each other soon. But I'll miss you too.

 Story 3:

If you don't want to know the insane thoughts that go through people's minds, then don't read this one. If you have had thoughts that you thought made you insane, but have never admitted it, then you are not alone. This can be disturbing if you stifle those thoughts or ignore them, but I think it's part of what makes us human, so I'm going to be completely transparent, as usual, and share them.

My brother was in basic training in Wichita Falls, starting the second phase of his enlistment after basic training. I was in Cincinnati, starting my senior year of classes. To communicate, we used Skype. He called me one day, and he was deeply disturbed.

I could see the hesitation in his pixelated face, and asked him what was up. 

"I think I'm going crazy man," he said in a scared tone.

I replied with a simple "why," deciding to let him just be honest.

"I don't know how else to put this but I'm going to be forward." I thought he knocked someone up at this point, but he continued and I learned something entirely different.

"We've been at the shooting range this week, and some weird thoughts have gone through my head." Again he hesitated, and I prodded him further.

"I pictured myself turning to the side and just shooting everyone in my batallion." His voice cracked here, then he asked what he dreaded. 

"Does that make me crazy?"

I laughed and told him "no,"and I followed with my own "demented" visualizations.

"Junior year I had a Spanish Culture class and I sat behind this beautiful girl from the Eastern-African country of Eritrea. Where she came from gave her the most beautiful complexion and some days she would wear her hair up, exposing her neck. Whenever she did this, I would look at her neck, and imagine myself taking my pen and jamming it into there, or taking my pocket knife and pulling her head back and cutting her throat (His eyes widened here too, so it's having the same effect on you). I then pictured myself sprinting out of the classroom, bowling over anyone who stepped in my way, running to the ATM and withdrawing everything I had, running to my car and taking off in some direction, only to be caught immediately, stepping out my car and acting as though I had a gun in my back pocket, aggressively grabbing for it and going down in a blaze of gunfire like Sonny from the Godfather."

His jaw was dropped. 

"You think you're crazy? You're not crazy at all, that's a normal thought we humans have when we know we have power. You're only crazy if you act out those fantasies."

"Holy shit, dude. Thanks."

(Don't think of me differently, I guarantee this has happened to most of you)

These are just a few of the stories that cover what has happened between us. For those of you with brothers, or sisters even, these might ring home. If not, maybe the following list will contain some of the roles or ideas you have of a sibling.

 

Wingman, placing blame, accepting blame, forgiveness, inspiration, fun, comic relief, inside jokes, telling stories, shared growth, vent, a second opinion, a punching bag(literally and figuratively), subject of a narrative, making plans, empathizing, sympathizing, guinea pig-ing, emotional support, infallible physical support(you hit whoever hits your brother, no matter how big) taking out frustrations, pushing buttons, understanding a broken heart, whatever you need.

Specifically, this one is for my brother and all other brothers who love their brothers like we love each other. That bond is unbreakable.

What makes a person?

Literally, I guess it's this kind of stuff. If I remember more from my biology classes, I probably could have come up with something better, but this is a start.

Obviously, this is not the question my title is asking. It's more figurative, as in how do we determine what makes a person good/bad, smart/dumb, promising/failing, etc. Or, what do we use to judge a person versus what actually makes them inherently good or bad.

This is impossible to answer completely, because each of our opinions concerning inherent goodness will be different, but I will proceed using mine, or rather my idea, because this is hard to define.

A couple days ago I got a call from a friend saying that he narrowly missed disaster because a local kid was found in their driveway by cops, tripping on drugs, and claiming people in the house had beat them up. Because of his state and the fact that nobody was home, my friend suffered no consequences. It wasn't until a couple days later I realized the boy tripping was somebody we knew, a kid who was a few years below me in our high school.

I never hung out with the kid then, or really ever. I remember taking woodworking with him and thought he was a nice, funny kid and we got along. We saw each other occasionally each summer, playing poker or at parties, and he always seemed really happy to see me and always greeted me with a handshake or whatever. Because I didn't know him very well and he did this, I always liked him. He was always happy, always ready to have a good time, and always happy to see an old face. He did a lot of other things I didn't know about, I am sure, but this was enough for me to think that this kid was inherently good. Not many people can be as friendly as he was, which is why the news about him has upset so many people.

He was the one tripping in my friend's driveway(on bath salts, and admittedly foolish drug to mess with) and is now in a coma. As with any coma, it's serious. I've seen on Facebook people offering their condolences and saying prayers and such, but the few people I've talked to privately have said the same thing: "I hope he does well, but he is an idiot for putting himself in that situation," or something to that effect.

Can I argue with that? Sure, I probably could, but really bath salts aren't something to mess with. Was he dumb for taking them? Well not exactly, it was a bad decision. I make bad decisions often but I don't think I am dumb. Was he setting himself up for this situation, one where things had to get so bad for him to possibly see what he needs to change? That's possible. Is he a bad guy? I don't think so.

Are decisions what make a person? Absolutely not, but in this case, I think that's what people will see. I think a lot of those people praying for him are probably also thinking that he is a stupid person or maybe even a bad guy. I know that likely none of them wish ill on him, but I bet they can't help but be mad at him or judge him. I don't blame them for that either, but I don't think they should.

One, the kid has been in a tough spot. He always was experimenting with drugs, but as far as I know, it was never anything too serious. That was until his dad died over a year ago and then things got worse. He probably got started and never could stop. It was probably a way to ease his pain and it was impossible to control. I don't think this is an excuse, but I think it's a contributor.

The other reason I don't think he should be judged is because of what I said about him before. I think he is an inherently good guy who took a bad path. He made bad decisions that led to bad outcomes, but we all do that, and only we would know how it feels when we are in that situation. If he is conscious, I bet he just wants people to know he knows he messed up, and right now he is unable too. We can't judge him for this decision, because it does not make him who he is.

But that's what happens. People make a decision and often live their lives being defined by it. If he pulls out of the coma, he may continue to just float by and do nothing, being the kid from my high school who once went into a coma from taking bath salts. If he doesn't pull out, he will be the kid who died using bath salts. 

What if he pulls out and changes, and becomes a spokesperson for anti-drug campaigns. Or he decides life is too short and goes to college? Then he becomes the kid who had a rough past that turned things around. Notice the exemption of "bath salts" in that title. And that really is what can happen. Nobody will ever acknowledge that the kid is naturally a good kid if he either dies or continues down the same path. And if he pulls out and turns his life around, he will be praised. What's the difference here? A decision, and I think that's unfair.

Sure, it's wonderful to see someone learn from their mistakes, in fact that's what the difference between stupidity and intelligence is. But a decision does not make a person, it's a mere step in a timeline. When you leave this earth, do you want to be summed up by a series of anecdotes or milestones? Probably not. I know I want my eulogy to be filled with comments on who I was as a man, what I was like to be around, how I helped others, how much some people loved me. Not where I graduated from, not what jobs I held or where I lived, not the mistakes I made and how I learned from them. Yes, these contribute to who we are and put us in situations that can change us as people, but they should never define us. 

So before judging someone(which I don't think should really be done at all, but if it weren't, we wouldn't be human) think about your criteria. Do you want to be known for your mistakes, or for who you were?

Thank You for Thanking Me

Who or what do you think they're bowing to? A painting of Jesus, a preacher, a crucifix? Any of those answers is completely normal. What if they were just bowing to a normal person? For me, that would change a lot. Well that's what I feel like I am a part of with my job, and this is what a lot of people are asking for.

As with a lot of my pictures, this is an exaggeration. The people in my organization where I work do not expect people to literally bow down at their feet and praise. No, that would be ridiculous. Especially because this is our job, to help others, so when we do our job we shouldn't expect to be praised or even thanked, right? In fact, we're getting paid to do what we do, so really there shouldn't be much acknowledgment at all, or at least not an expectation of it.

Yet as my tenure slowly grows, the vibe I get from this place is not at all what I would expect from somewhere with an intent to help, to make a difference. Ideally, I think we should all should just continue helping because it's what we love to do, and if it's not, then you shouldn't be a part of the job. 

(I can't go into to much detail, for risk of offending someone who may be involved with this)

But a dentist doesn't wish to be praised after pulling a wisdom tooth does he? A truck driver doesn't get praised for making a timely delivery. A police officer definitely doesn't get praised after writing a parking  ticket. And it's all because this is their JOB. Way to go, you did what you were supposed to. I stopped getting congratulated for that when I became a teenager. So why do the people in my job constantly need to be reminded at what they do is so wonderful?

Look, I know that my job is more admirable on the surface level than most. "We dedicate our lives to helping others as opposed to just helping ourselves." We help the youth of the area get better opportunities then they might have without our help. That's fantastic in itself, but you know what equals it out? The fact that we get a paycheck. And you know what would happen to those that stopped helping the youth of the area get better opportunities? They'd stop getting that paycheck. It's a regular job... Duh.

But every time I meet with the other employees of my organization, we take time to go over anecdotes from our work that are "exceptional." I think the idea on the surface is to inspire the other employees to try to do something similar, to draw from that story and help another student. But it doesn't seem like that. Whenever the story is finished, you hear approving comments that seem to say things like "wow, it's amazing what we can do here," or "man, if it weren't for us, that kid wouldn't be anywhere." The anecdote, which should be a celebration of the accomplishments of the student revolve into compliments to ourselves. And I will say it again. It's our JOOOOOBBBBBB...

When all of those are shared by individuals, there is usually a wrap up from a higher-up in the company that nearly always is a reminder of how amazing it is the things we do. There are comments about how wonderful the work we do is, how much of a difference we make, how selfless we all are... Blah blah blah... 

I don't mean to tear apart what we do. I will admit that it is true that a lot of the things students accomplish in this area likely wouldn't have happened without being directed by someone in our program. But again, we get paid to guide them, so why are we so special? We aren't.

The attitude taken in this job needs to be the same attitude taken with any job. This is what I get paid to do, so that's what I am going to do. Sure, it's nice to be complimented from time to time, to be recognized for a significant accomplishment, but it seems that someone has to get praised every time a student does something right. It's sick, and it's worse than being praised in any other job, and here is why.

Our goal and our mission is to help others. Let's ignore the fact that we get paid for now and just keep in mind what it is that we do. We help others. If you get into this job to do that, then you should be happy enough when a kid gets a 3.0 GPA for the first time or gets into a 4-year college. You helped someone else. That was wonderful, it really is, but that's all the further it needs to go. If you get a compliment or a thanks from the student, that's a bonus. But it seems that a lot of the people in my organization feel slighted when someone doesn't tell them they made a difference. Well, then maybe you're not in for the cause as much as you thought you were because making the difference is all that matters, not being recognized for it.

This one reads a lot more like a rant that previous ones, and it pretty much is (it's also much angrier than the others), but I still do have a message. For those of you that are ever in the position to help others, or want to go into a service like this, or want to join a volunteer organization, go in without expectations of being recognized. I say this because if your goal is to help others and then you want to be congratulated for it, then you weren't being as selfless as you thought. The "helping others" part gets tainted because you were also seeking to help yourself in some way. It may get frustrating as time passes and you don't get many thanks or congratulations, but I can tell you what makes that all easier. Whenever you get used to not being recognized, whenever you lose that expectation entirely, someone will thank you for making a difference, a genuine appreciation for your work, and it will floor you. Being thanked for something you didn't realize you did is so much more powerful than waiting for one and getting it.

Stick to the Plan...

What the hell is a "plan" anyway? What we view it as in today's culture makes it either a very positive or a very negative thing. If you stick to the plan and complete it, then it's a great success. If you don't stick to the plan, then you have failed to execute this masterful plan that you have mapped out for yourself, deeming yourself incompetent. It's not necessarily always this way, but I think that's how people often view the directions a plan can take.

However, I think there are two sides to each of those previously mentioned two sides, and they are as follows:

The first side, the one where you stuck to the plan and executed it, accomplishing a goal. On the surface, this seemingly is completely a good thing. You were determined enough to execute something you believed beneficial to yourself(not counting heist/murder schemes) and the fact that you did it says a lot about your ability to follow through. While this is mostly true, what expense did accomplishing this task cost you? 

Let's take an example directly from my job. A student graduating high school is ready to go to college, say into Nursing, and after graduation plan on becoming a nurse. There is nothing wrong with becoming a nurse whatsoever, however I do have a problem with the plan. That is at least 4 years of your life, some of the more important years of a person's like in my opinion, and if you do accomplish this, what did you ignore along the way. What if the student took a psychology class freshman year and really liked it, considered maybe switching, but chose not to because of fear of venturing from their plan? What if that student would have thrived more in that major? They may never know because they stuck to their plan.

And now the other side, the one where you failed to achieve the goal in your plan. Why exactly is that so bad? This goes hand in hand with the first one, so I won't give another example, but say someone bails on their plan because they discovered something that felt better than what they were going for in their plan? Is that a failure? Or rather should they be commended for having the courage to stray from their original, perhaps ambitious goal, to chase what it is that they really want? 

So now the two sides to having a plan become four, and suddenly it's not so black and white. The gray area, in fact, suddenly becomes really appealing, like maybe your favorite color(I like cerulean). 

This blog stems from a combination of conversations I have had in the past week. The first was with my grandpa, who with my grandma was making a very pleasant visit with me and as always, asked what it was that I was doing. I listed off 5 years of ambitious plans that would put me on a pretty admirable track and when I finished, they both were so excited to hear these plans. But before their eyes got too big, I assured them that it was a loose outline of what I could do. Because my college career followed many twists and turns, facing many different forks in the road, leading me to not leave with a degree in Pharmacy like I started but rather one in Communication. Can you think of two more different majors? But those four years taught me something: to never stick by a plan because it's a "plan." So when their eyes got big at my plan, I assured them that things could change in 6 months if I met a girl and fell in love with her. Or maybe when I get to Spain I start working in a restaurant and realize a passion for cooking and decide to start cooking there. Or I might get in the Peace Corps and realize that is my life's calling. Who knows? I sure as hell don't. So to pretend that those 5 years will go exactly as I say is beyond foolish, and detrimental to me because I may miss out on something really spectacular.

The second conversation comes from a case worker who has been working in my school a lot recently. This one has less to do with a plan but more how to handle one. Upon hearing of my lack of spirituality, which she was open to, made me promise to be open to spirituality if the feeling were to strike me. This was not news to me, I am wide open to it, but she reiterated what I told my grandpa, to be open to changes when they come. Where I am at not, in terms of my spirituality, is very far from being religious. I don't dislike religion or anything like, but where I am at now is a place completely devoid of it. I am currently a pretty staunch pragmatist, but the cool thing about that is being pragmatic about the nature of humans. We tend to change on a whim, believe it or not. So if I somehow survive an incredible near death experience or lose someone very close to me, I know it's very possible I may seek spiritual comfort. And because of the sermon I am currently preaching(intended), I will be open to the change if it feels right.

So, to conclude, I don't want you to place such high value on a "plan." I think it's good to have one, to give yourself some sense of direction, because aimless awaiting of some serendipitous discovery usually doesn't pan out. But don't think you're a failure for having failed to meet a plan. In that case, you have only failed an idea. But if you complete the plan, you may have failed yourself. That is, making yourself happy. And really, there are few things more important than that.

Oh yeah, if you haven't made the connection to the picture, don't feel pressure to make up your mind, especially in regards to your future. Give yourself a loose idea, but creating pressure on myself to choose between Pharmacy and Communication would have likely made things much more difficult. Instead, I did what felt right when the feeling struck me. Then again, I may be unique in not feeling this pressure, but I think everyone can, if they just try it.

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