My First Quarter-Century

Yesterday was my 25th birthday. I spent the weekend leading up to it first celebrating the birthdays of my mom and brother the week before and then thinking about what it meant for me to have lived 25 years. I thought about it both in context with just this past year and with all 25 together. You know, I consider myself to be pretty well-adjusted and I have a healthy self-esteem, but I also strive to be humble and I have a hard time just giving myself big-time compliments. That being said, however, I feel compelled to do just that this time.

I'm very proud of myself. I view reaching the age of 25 as a major achievement in my life. There is something significant about the age in general, but it means more for me. I had a chance to discuss it with my mom. She remarked lightly, "Who would've thunk it 25 years ago?" I thought about that a little more seriously, and responded, "How about 22 years ago?". Of course, this was a reference to the age of my diagnosis. And in 1986, the outlook in those informational pamphlets was grim for all boys by the age of 18.

Oh, I've had my chances to step out, as my friend would so eloquently say. When I call my most recent health challenge -- which ended in that most successful surgery -- a struggle, I really mean it. I was really weakened battling those wounds. I honestly believed I was at my bottom when I found out surgery was necessary, and there were a couple of weeks where I didn't feel like my body would be able to withstand that stress. But, I had to man up and do it, like it or not. This is the reason why I feel I have achieved so much in the last month. I found strength at my lowest point and willed my way through.

I read through the year in review I posted around the time of my last birthday, and there is definitely the sense of declining health for me as I read it. There are so many heavy topics for discussion in it. So much seriousness, so much pain. I was ready for it to be over then, but obviously there was much more fun in store. I'm glad for it, though, because now I feel stronger than ever. My breathing is good and getting better. I feel like I have work to do and the energy to get it done. My appetite is excellent, and always ready for more. I even feel my senses heightened.

For all these reasons and more, 25 is a big, big deal. And this year, I plan on bringing the focus back to regular, happy things. I'm going to work on my writing and continue to be published. I have to keep spoiling my nieces & nephews. I want to enjoy more of life's simple pleasures like good music or a nice bottle of red. Most importantly, I have a social life to renew. It is definitely grand to go from needing to find a surgeon & a way to get better to wanting to find a girlfriend & have a relationship. Enough seriousness. For now, I'll take the little things.

There's no time to lose!

What It Means to Be a Trojan

I just recently overcame a big obstacle in my life. After a nearly 2-year health struggle, I ended up facing the need to have surgery. Going into it, I had already used up my strength battling the struggles before. I had already done my best, and I felt like I gave everything I could possibly give. And then I needed to give a little more. I needed to grit my teeth once again and ready for a bigger and more important battle. I knew that my next test would be the only one that mattered. In order to win, I knew I had to be thankful for everything behind me, mindful of everything ahead, and completely focused on the task at hand. And I did that, I succeeded.

I succeeded because I willed myself to feel fresh & prepared for each wave upon wave of pain I went through. I saw all the threats and I knew what they meant, but I didn't turn my back on them, and I could have. No, I faced them. In my mind, it wasn't what I could do, it was what I must do. And all this occurred before I even thought about the difficult part: the surgery itself. Soon, I faced that. Fear, agony, confusion, frustration, anger... these were my opponents. I faced a choice. I could give in to them, forget about all the skills I had that could get me through, and simply hide in a fog of medication and defeat. Or... I could man up and trust all the things that got me to where I was. I could trust in my way of doing things, my faith, knowledge, skills, courage, and my ambition to be victorious. And that's just what I did, I faced it and I succeeded.

The funny thing was I was glad to be in that situation, in my element. Sure it was hard, and it physically did not feel good to go through, but at the same time I knew all the way through that it was where I belonged. It's how I decide who I really am, in the adversity. In those moments of challenge, that's where you see the real you. So I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the opportunity to do something great for myself, to say, "Hey, I'm doing the right things the right way and that's what makes me great."

That's what happens on Saturday for a whole team of Trojans, when USC takes on Ohio State. There comes a time when you realize that Trojan is not just some word or some mascot. It represents something. It means something. It means that you don't run away from the adversity. No, it's just the opposite. You seek it out. You seek the challenge. You put yourself in a position where you're under a threat from your opponent. You put yourself in a position where you can lose. Not only that, not only do you seek out your adversaries willingly, but you enjoy doing it! You are glad that your whole season, that everything you worked for and everything you're trying to achieve is all on the line.

This is a great thing. Why? No risk, no reward. What good is a victory you don't earn? What good is winning & success when it doesn't cost you your hard work, your body, your spirit? When you face your toughest tests, you want to walk away from them knowing, not feeling or thinking, but knowing that you gave every single thing you had. That you gave as much as the guy standing next to you. When you do that, there is no one that can be let down. And that is how you embody the Trojan. Darrell Rideaux once asked for everything from his teammates, telling them to go out and fight like men, fight like Trojans. And this is what you want to see.

Fight On, Trojans. Beat those Buckeyes.

The Wisdom is Knowing Where to Look

I once heard this wise woman speak. She was the type of person who could see things about people, things that others couldn't, or wouldn't see. She said, "If you want to find God don't look up, look around." The older I get, the more I realize how much this statement influences the role faith plays in my life. Personally, I believe anyone who can sit down and definitively say, "God is this," or "God is that," is either lying or crazy. I wouldn't ever presume to define totally who or what God is. I'm always careful to preface my feelings on this subject that it does come down to unprovable faith. My worldview works because it comes from my experience, and it's one that can't be totally understood unless someone else could somehow have exactly the same experience. One thing I do know is that the verb "to know" has no place in this discussion. However, that makes faith all the more meaningful. I do not know, and because of that, I believe.

I believe in this wise woman's statement. When we look around, we might see the signs: beauty & Art; nature, the ordered universe, and science; freedom, truth, and love. Most of all, we might see it in ourselves and in the other people around us. It is unfortunate that the easiest way comes in the void left when a loved one leaves us. When we mourn the absence of that person, we remind ourselves of all the things they brought to us. In the best of circumstances, they bring us together. Beyond the specific gifts and memories each person leaves behind, they all teach us to look to each other and see God in that most unclear place, within ourselves and within others.

But why is it unclear? We get caught up in daily life, which is only natural, and I believe we're not used to looking. I've always thought media perception is so contrived, and I find it most hollow when celebrities talk about giving all their glory to God and then they point up into the sky. Now I don't judge others' self-expression, and pointing to the sky is not a problem in and of itself, but what does it say when the appearance of faith is more important than the faith itself? Why does it matter that strangers know what you believe?

So, it takes a lot of practice to see spirit clearly in other people, in all people, especially in our day-to-day lives. In spite of that, I believe the faith it takes to keep that practice going leads to a realization that the most vivid experience of God is in humanity. It is simultaneously the experience most vulnerable to a loss of faith. People are capable of a full range of kind and terrible acts. The challenge of faith is easy to understand when you can see both love and hate in the same being. Equally challenging is the loss of a loved one. They can bring us together, but that is in the best of circumstances. Everyone grieves differently, and this kind of adversity can also drive people apart. This points to the importance of seeing God in ourselves.

What irritates me more than Celebrity Faith is faith dependent on the outcome of events, or as I call it: Results-Based Faith. It is my belief that if we can see God in ourselves and strive toward that ideal, then bad things can happen without harming us. My goal is being the best I can in this life, not setting a standard for myself that is unreachable.

I look around at the amazing things in this world, and I make damn sure I take pleasure in them completely.