Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Downtown A.M.

I've always liked to be downtown in the morning. Any downtown will do, really. The air seems fresh and young, as if it's not yet worn out by the daily grind of the workday, and when the sun is peeking through the trees as it was this morning, that's an even bigger bonus. Downtown in the morning reminds me of a fresh cup of strong coffee (no room for cream, thanks), smiles so big they crease the eyes, bagels toasted to melt-in-your-mouth softness slathered with far too much cream cheese, and the invigorating feeling of a good, hot shower. Yeah, I like downtown in the morning :)

I also like Paul Butterworth. This is going to sound strange, but he sometimes reminds me of my worst nightmare come true. No, not like that. You know what I mean...that proverbial dream wherein the main character (usually ourselves) is going about their day at school or work, when suddenly he or she finds that they're without all their clothing except their underwear. Paul is like that for me; he embodies what I fear I will wake up as one day: tall and gangly, pale, geekiness shining forth in all his geeky glory. (Right now, he's outside of Blind Brandon's door talking about Spider Man being the first comic book character to display emotional I said, geeky glory.) But you know what? I sometimes wish I were him. People like Paul. I like Paul. He's known as Pablo on campus. Why wouldn't I want to be Paul?

Because I'm me. And just who am I? Aaaahhhh, that is the question, is it not? The desire to be someone I'm not is, at its root, a vain one in the most selfish sense of the word. So is, believe it or not, my motive for remaining me. Why is that? As I look at someone else, someone like Paul, I can easily fall into the trap of thinking, " would be so much easier if I were Paul...God, why do I have to have my problems...Paul doesn't seem to have'd be easier if I had his life...why can't I have his?" Or, when his life doesn't seem to be going so well, or when he confides in me the challenges and struggles of being Paul Butterworth, I think to myself, "whew! Thank God that I don't have his problems! I mean, if I had to deal with that..." Do you see how proud and selfish I am? I think of life in terms of me, not in terms of God. God made Paul the way Paul is; God made me the way I am. Why would I do anything but be grateful for that and praise Him? Why would I be discontent in the way He made me? What if I were crippled? What if I couldn't tell the difference between mauve and taupe, or vanilla and winter white? What if I had problems that far exceeded those that are upon me right now? Would I be discontent in that?

*Sigh*...I'd like to say "no," but I can't. Do you know why? Because I can't say that right now. I compare. I check the ratings. I listen to what people are saying. I know it's sad, I know it's wrong, but it's true. I'm just glad that it won't always be this way :)

You know what else I like? I like good conversations with good friends. Andrew...Brian...Scott...Rob...Chriyus...Mike...they remind me of what's important. They give insight I would be otherwise lacking. They encourage and admonish, and they do it with grace. It still stymies me that they would consider me a friend...a good friend. With all my selfishness, with all of my faults, they still love me. *Sigh*...God is good to us like that, isn't He?

Which reminds me. Mike said we have to go to Olive Garden again. He's right about that :)

posted by Bolo | 6:16 PM
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