This past Monday, I found myself busy as usual. Running from client to client, handling countless phone calls, nursing a hanger, closing deals, and searching for the perfect place to eat lunch. I was fully aware of the events unfolding at my alma mater and was proud as to my mental state. I commented to myself, "you sure are handling this well. No one is handling this as well as me. The rest of the world loves to be overdramatic and the press is going to go ape shit over this. Boy, I bet Imus is happy." Nothing profound. I played to the tragedy when on clients properties, giving the subtle look of disbelief when they answered the door. I consider myself quite good at making connections with people instantly and allowing them to see Jeremy first and my profession and purpose on their property second. Maybe this makes me a good salesman, although that word alone conjures images of used cars and thinly groomed mustaches. It is my job, my passion.
As I listed to radio on my way home today, which happens to be 2 days after the massacre, I began analyzing the event. The numerous theories and explanations that bubble to the surface like a freshly opened soda have made me think about our area and the culture under which a mass murderer was groomed. Northern Virginia is a well populated suburb of Washington. Full of politicians, government contractors, and the rest of us who scramble to the edge of the dinner table like dogs in hopes of someone dropping a morsel of meat on the ground to savor. Although usually a scrap of fat, we are not as interested to the flavor of the scrap but merely that the dog next to us is wathcing us eat it in envy. Fast cars, nice houses, expensive clothes, and bath and body. We are more concerned with the bath than we are the body. We see Tyson's II and wonder how much our neighbors make. What do you do for a living? It is a question that has to be asked. Although I find it trivial to ask, let's face it...it is a window into the personality and therefore, soul of a person, right?. I love telling people I am an arborist. They instantly think I am artistic, environmentally friendly, and rather unique for being so passionate about something they have never heard of. Instant acceptance. We seek acceptance in so many levels it is difficult to understand. Private school, public school, no school..it is all the same. Elementary school we seek acceptance from our teachers and parents. Nice shoes. Darvin or Marvin. Red or black. Rock or roll. If we don't get it, we act out and throw temper tantrums to get attention. Can you imagine if after all that effort no one gave a shit. You end up going to middle school and wearing black and painting your finger nails, etc. Then high school, blah, blah blah.
Maybe that kid was touched as a kid. Maybe his dad hated him and loved his sister more. Maybe his mom hated his dad. And maybe the kid hated himself so much he refused to let anyone love him. A friend, a teacher, anyone. For a person who grew up so loved, I find it hard to understand. Love comes in different sizes and packages considering you cannot touch it or taste it or feel it with your hands. For a person so disturbed, love may come in the form of a smile or eye contact. I dont know...........The bottom line is that we are all masters of our own fate, which includes the giving and receiving of love. Therefore, I find it difficult to sympathize with a person who manifests his love in the form of mass murder.
32 lives were taken. Each one unique and casting varying shades and intensity of light. The hope of the young ones, whose lives were just beginning, to the Holocaust survivor whose life was coming to an end. We can only hope that they had the opportunity to love and be loved and that at some point in their life they found happiness and acceptance. It is primal for humans to interact, touch, speak, and co-exist with one another. We aspire to attain wealth and the freedom it provides. Students attend college in hopes of securing the knowledge necessary to obtain a decent job and a resonable life. If this were not true, we would all be happy alone, isolated like the shooter and content on living a life bound to the earth. Rather, much like all of us who visit this site, strive for higher meaning and elevated truths that bring us closer to touching that which we cannot see. Is it god, or is it a belief that one day we will be complete. Finished with the aspiring and grasping...truly one. All those who died, both here and in Iraq, should be celebrated for who they were. It was me and you who died on Monday, shot by a confused kid who failed to see the beauty of life and the power of vulnerability. Maybe it wasn't me and you, but it could have been. I ask myself how I have lived thus far. My long thought out response was 'i dont know.' This makes me realize that everything I have strived for my whole life is not judged by the outcome but by the process. The process of waking up everyday and the events that lead to my night's slumber. The finish line is my bed and my starter pistol is my alarm clock. How I run the race is entirely up to me.
Events like the shootings at Virginia Tech once again put things into perspective. Much like the passing of Frank, Edward, Jay, my grandfather Earl. Also like the weddings and events I have been that will forever remain. Choose to wake up and live happy. Be positive and avoid the traps that television and the media want to capture you with. Live by your rules and your timeline. Take risks and support others who take risks. Laugh at will. Be compassionate to others and strive to be non-violent. Be creative. Be patient. Be impatient. Stop bullshitting everyone and get real. Be honest and fair. Love your family. Love your friends.
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8 comments:
the neatest introspective commentary on the recent tragic events i have ever read. i love all of you deeply and cannot not wait for the next neat group hug we all share.
(staci posting under fiance's account, having technical difficulties with my profile)
Agreed Pauly.
Amazing words BFF, you have truley become a man.
The pain in my gut- in my soul- has put me at a loss for words, yet Jeremy puts it all down so well.
Group hug on 5/5, tears optional.
red-
you should not only consider yourself an arborist, but a writer as well. my insides ache for the families, paticularly the parents who have to bury their children
In these times of confusion and theunexplainable it is hard to avoid the cliche'd responses and comments. They are easy to grab and hold on to. They provide mental and verbal comfort. JH, takes the context of the event and not just the event itself and lays it out originally as only he could, with the heart of a true human being and the mind of theologian.
Commenting on comments is awkward, although warranted in this case. Let me first say thank you for the pleasant responses. I think you all are very nice. However, my intention was not to draw attention to myself, but merely expose a page from my diary that does not exist. It is important in such a wierd time to allow others in, much to the contrary of the shooter who shut everyone out. I can understand the urge to respond in the way you all have. My wish is for all of us to think about our lives and where we see ourselves. I encourage similar posts (more like garbled ramblings) and subsequent comments directed towards content as opposed to quality. I was listening to a town meeting with Tigger or WPGC the other day when it dawned on my to blog a stream of consciousness. His show was intelligent and uplifting and hope we can conduct a dialogue on this site that provokes positive change and elevated thought. (Also, please post stupid pictures as well..Bobbi is sitting on a gold mine) When in a room with friends it is difficult to get heavy. I will continue to use this site as a place to grow as I hope the rest of you will.
hager,
i appreciate what your saying but by the very nature of putting a page from your non existent diary out there you immediately draw attention to yourself and your writing. i think what caused people to praise your prose was not simply that they "liked it" but the meaning and depth we all felt from it. by praising the author in this particular situation we are not simply giving you an empty pat on the back but actually internalizing your thoughts. you were able to verbalize what others could not or did not know how to do. when i posted the funny pic of you and Nude El, i attempted to write something about where we found ourselves during this week and the importance of finding a way to laugh and/or smile. i found myself at a loss for word that did not sound trite or cliche'd, therefore i simply posted something i thought would make a neat reader laugh. You were able to express yourself in a way that was true to your heart and experience but also in a way that we all found TRUE. i do think its important to encourage others to not just comment on content but poor some shit out on the page but sometimes it easier and equally cathartic to just say thanks and nice work. stay neat.
Well said, I fully understand.
On your post: I know that picture was not taken too long ago, and it looks like I am 14 years old and have a fade. I must have lived a hard 2-3 years since that photo. I am upset that my close friends have not force fed me either. It looks like I weigh 65 pounds. Great look, better feeling.
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