The Audacity of Nobility

I have two options: I can go back to sleep, or I can rise to face and conquer the mountains of my life. I've been loafing, wafting, adrift at sea, awaiting a moment of destiny or some great revelation to bring me to my knees. I haven't found what I wanted. Though, I haven't been trying. I've let myself become victim to my fear and anxiety. I've been settling for mediocre at best, refusing to come face to face with those things that I feel are most important for me to embrace. I've lived by and large more sheltered and depressed than adventurous and optimistic for a good few years now. I can't stomach it any more. I can't bear to watch the beauty and love and people I hold most dear pass me by as I make my home in a box off the beaten road. This simply will not do. Perhaps I've been dealt some unfavorable hands in my 22 years so far. What reason does that give me to believe my "luck" has run dry? I've been blessed by so much, yet I've chosen to forget those things which brighten my heart. Living in a self made drought of love, I let fear rule me and weed be my crutch to hobble through this shadowed valley. For any bridges I have burnt or hearts I've rubbed the wrong way, I apologize to the depths of my soul. It was never personal, but it was all my person. I haven't believed in myself and I lost faith in all else.

My father was irrational. His tendancy to become entirely irate given the most miniscule of circumstances taught me to tread as lightly as I could and avoid any and all confrontation. This has bleed into me refusing to confront myself and, more epically, I fear emotional confrontation. Love I have down-pat. Passion burns in the deep of my heart. But I've come to severely undervalue sharing it with others. This isn't all due to my dad, and fear isn't the only thing he taught me. My dad was admirable in his steadfast (often foolish) dedication to his values. He lived to serve as best he knew, and from that I know can draw inspiration. In 2009, he dropped a bomb that rocked my world and shook my perception of reality. His past was always a mysterious shroud. All mystery was blown to the wind when he decided to become a woman that summer. Little did I know, this had been a hidden desire of his for the near 60 years of his life. His struggle with it almost ended him in his early 20s. Other things were in store, though. In the coming decades, he made his bed with Christianity and with my mother. While I can't agree with their passionless relationship (one that didn't make sense to me for so long, yet I never questioned it until this final piece fell right into my lap), I am more thankful than anything that their paths brought me here.

This is my paradox: my dad, who wasn't your traditional father by any means, raised me to hold true to my convictions and then, in the third act, brought the greatest irony possible into the story of my life. Since then I have witnessed him, once James Conners, now Jane Ireland, become more passionate and loving than I have known him to be for my entire existence. What then do I learn from this? A little bit everyday, but I can say I have learned that if you refuse to be yourself and follow your passions then you are doing the world a grand dis-service.

To deny your heart is to deny your life. I've been denying my joy of life. Moving from state to state, job to job, going through the motions and avoiding heartfelt connections because I don't want to lose something that I hold dear. It's almost a selfish downward spiral. The fear of having to let go kept me from holding on. So I drifted into the stars and watched the world turn 'round. I'm done being a passive observer. I came to the understanding right around the time that my dad came out that the world wasn't all rainbows and ponies. I knew there was hurt and deception, but I had previously turned a blind eye, thinking that society as a whole was in good hands here. As a whole, we have been missing a picture. A very important one.

Our consumer mindsets have drowned us in the here-and-now demand culture that we live in. While it still goes on, with every day the fact that something is wrong becomes more evident. From banks manipulating our financial stability to neighbors putting up fences that grow higher and higher. I'm no exception. The walls I have built are near impervious. Though I can't deny the beams of light that still managed to cut through. The problem with living behind a wall is that even when light dawns on your face, the best you can do is peer through the cracks.

I was born in 1989. That year a famous wall representing opression, fear and restraint was desolated in Berlin. Expression was free to run rampant throughout the streets. No longer was the grass greener on the other side. I'm done with the other side nonsense. This is my side, and this is the most glorious side known beyond man-kind.

My dad had the audacity to take a step that, from his world, was strictly forbidden. This step that's colored in shades of grey has brought undeniable color. For that, I commend him. Jane Ireland, I'm happy your steps have brought me, I'm displeased that you mistreated me, I undesrtand you did what you believed was right, and I commend you for being so noble as to step outside the box in pursuit of your dreams.

To my mother: I hold the deepest and most sincere awe of your love, compassion, dedication, and stead-fastness. You have an iron will grown from soils of pure love. You're beautiful and your sacrifice is more noble than all the epics of the past combined.

This brings me to now. The close of 2011, a week from Christmas. I'll have plenty of time to rest later. I'm a fan of adventure, love, and all that is magnificent in the world. I'm going to settle for nothing but celebrating each day of my life and each encounter I have from now on. I walked in love once, I never left that path, but I sure took a note from Rip Van Winkle along the way. I'm lacing up my shoes and embracing the world once more, eager to show that even the darkest shadow needs its light.

Hold on to your hats ladies and gentlefellows. Gabriel Evan Conners is back. I don't have all the answers, but I'm not letting that stop me. Perfection is unique.

I went searching for a homeless man.

I went searching for homeless man. I wound up joining the army. Well, the salvation army. I've been searching, rather, yearning for some time in life. I was wounded by life's trials and I hadn't found the courage to accept the world as I found it and my actions along the way. I wanted my answer to just waltz into my life. I've discovered that you're never going to find what you're looking for by sitting around or sticking to your usual routine. If you find yourself lacking, go find your luster.

I'm moving to Colorado in a week. From the plains of Oklahoma, this is quite the marvelous change in scenery. My move, ever-so timely with the awakening of my desire and passion, is beyond symbolic. This winter will usher forth the most resilient season of my life!

The adventures I will have and the things I will discover will be the stuff of legends. I have no desire to live my life as anything but epic so I shan't. For too long I have dealt on the negative things from my past. For so long was I distracted that I found myself underground, shaded from the light of the beauty of the world. I see myself in Plato's eyes, a man emerging from a cave, stumbling from the light, and coming to... To feel the rushing wind and realise he's on the side of a mountain. Talk about epiphany, can you see?

I found the homeless man. And I gave him bread, mac and cheese (still warm!) and a cookie. :)

Love the world--save the world