It's amazing how quickly things can change, and then be forgotten. Considering how much I love to write you'd think I'd spend more time on this blog instead of only the three posts that I've managed to throw up since I've started the dang thing. But alas, by the time I finish my day job and go to practice and any volunteer activities I may have scheduled, it's hard to find the time or the energy to put pen to pad, or in this case, fingers to keyboard to compose a new story, or anything else. I know writing is like a muscle and like anything it has to be worked and flexed if it is going to be of any use. So why not flex it? I flex regularly in practice, and do other things to try to expand my knowledge on trivia and random factoids, but as my friend Monica told me a while ago, why don't I keep doing those things that I do? Karate and writing. That's what I do. (I'd like to add guitar in there, but that's just me).

So it has me thinking that I might be a little lazy. I mean I have these three things that I really enjoy, but I only put a cursory effort into doing them. Well let me rephrase that. I put a lot of effort into Karate. Guitar comes in at a very distant number 2 and writing even further behind that at number 3. (now maybe i'm some kind of masochist, because these three things are very hard to get down. Karate in terms of the physical side, guitar I'm teaching myself, and writing, well let's just say I have very exacting standards, but I digress).

This most recent time I was in Japan, I was told I should pick up my CPA. But if I can barely make time to do the things I really enjoy, how on earth am I going to the things that are WORK I should be doing to get the better life thing going? I hope the idea of Kanako come is going to keep me going cause if not, I'm in trouble, and I need to get myself Motivated and keep sprinting. I guess I could always just stop sleeping...

A beginning

And then, there was darkness.

The wind tugged on Sachel's great coat, snapping it out to her side as she hovered in the air. She felt the fickle wind pull her coat to her left, before suddenly shifting to her right. She felt it press up against her body as the wind rushed up from behind her, then heard the small thunderclap as it was snapped back behind her.

Sachel however was unmoved by the dark wind. Her blue skin shone bright and hot in the darkness, marking a stark contrast with the yellows and oranges of her great coat. She may have wondered idly if the coat would ever settle and be done jerking itself around, and what she would do if it ever did. Or maybe she was simply annoyed with the inconsistency of the wind, wondering if it would ever settle itself.

Whatever she was feeling, she did not let it show on her face. Her face had a stoic quality that conveyed a patient acceptance of the windy darkness around her. Whatever she felt or thought was not shown, she was simply there...

Not Enough Butter for Your Bread

Today I had a miracle happen.

Some people know that I have been struggling with a lot of different issues on my plate lately. Personally, professionally, academically, every -ly you can think of has been taking me to task lately, and I've felt like I'm a certified failure in a lot of areas.

It comes from giving your all to EVERYTHING you do. No matter what. I've been trying to go at 150% with everything I attempt, and haven't been able to focus on any one thing, so everything suffers. Between my fiance, my dreams, my reality at work, and a haunting memory, I feel that I've been pulled in so many directions at the same time. To quote Bilbo, "I feel stretched, like butter scrapped across too much bread."

Lately, there have been many poignant reminders of a person that I shared my life with that ended very badly. It is a guilt that I have been carrying around for a long time. And unfortunately, the situation is such that I cannot reach out to talk to the source for many different reasons. So a guilt i shouldn't be carrying weighs heavily upon my heart, and tonight I was going to write to the source to resolve things. Hoping she might respond to this email when she hasn't to others.

As I was climbing the stairs to my apartment I was composing the email I would write to said memory, when I came across a letter from my Ofukuro. For those of you that don't know, Ofukuro is Japanese for Mom, ergo, Ofukuro is my Japanese mom. This is the woman that went all for broke for me when I first went to Japan, and through her influence has made everything happen since. Seeing a letter from her totally dashed every negative thought I have had or had been feeling lately. I ran upstairs and tore open the letter.

It was short, but it was filled with love, congratulatory sentiments regarding my upcoming nuptials with Kanako, and simple happiness. Folk, I have to say, this made my bloody month. It lifted my up in a time of darkness.

It just goes to show, I had been searching for something to lift my out of this funk I've been. To help me be a little less stressed about life. And something unasked for and unlooked for appeared. It reminds me, you don't always get what you want, but sometimes you do get what you need...

Sometimes You Gotta Stop Praying and Just Get to Work

Yesterday morning I was browsing Facebook, and I came across a quote on a friend's page that said "A pair of hands engaged in hard work accomplish more than a billion hands clasped in prayer." That comment really hit home though I did have to rework it to the title of this post.

With my upcoming nuptials, a lot of things have been really concerning for me. Mostly how to be able to pay for visa and green card, plus wedding, plus grad school, plus move to NYC, etc etc. I have been very frustrated trying to get it all figured out. I was praying a lot (my own flavor of it at least), and trying really hard to stay positive. It wasn't working.

Then I read that quote. It was a like a lightning bolt straight to my brain. After reworking it to be more pertinent to myself, it served as a self-swift kick to the ass to get me going. I started downloading podcasts on the GMAT, and Stern Business School, and really decided to stop bellyaching and just get it done. My goal is to be an International Consultant and I've gotta really focus on it.

Then last night my buddy Victor called me out for a happy hour. I decided with a little reluctance to go, because I haven't seen the boys lately. While I'm there I happen to meet TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE that have connections in International Consulting. Major score.

My moral of this story is that prayer is great to provide comfort in times of hardship, but until YOU actually start doing something about the situation nothing is going to change. My situation hasn't been fixed by any means whatsoever, but I've been handed a set of directions to at least get me to the path.

Considering I know a lot of people that are unhappy with their particular situation right now, I've been hearing a lot of complaints and depressing stories. I didn't realize I was one of them. Time to change that. And that thought reminds of a quote from Gandhi. "Be the change you want to see in the world." I want my friends and loved ones to improve their lives, but the change isn't going to come from whatever flavor of super powered deity they turn to. It comes from within.

coffee and a hippopotamus bodyguard

Today was a nice and relaxing day. I had a relaxed morning, took a friend some coffee, and spent a lot of time thinking about things. One of the best things that really made my day was the look on my friends face when I showed up coffee in hand for a quick chat. It brought a really good feeling on and I started thinking that it's too bad that I can't make the whole giving thing a full time thing. But oh well. It did get me thinking on things, and when I got back home I started taking care of some business. After eating dinner, I popped in my roommates copy of the new BBC documentary of life. And the first disc had a segment on challenges in life, and it showcased some hippos. The hippos were battling it out over mating rights. I can only think of one word to describe it. EPIC.

The way those things were going at it, I was just amazed and thought how awesome would it be to get anthropomorphic. My first thought about these giant baddies was nature's sumo wrestlers. But as I was watching the epic unfold, I started imagining mafia dons sitting around a table, and juxtaposed a hippo's head with a body in a three peace suit. Then a dark hard, holding a hippo-sized glock. Thus the hippopotamus bodyguard was born.

Think about it. They're huge, have really bad tempers, and just don't give a damn. Now to get them into a story...

River

A man stood next to a river bank. His heart heavy with sorrow and regret. He sighed deeply, the sigh of a man that has known loss, heartbreak, and the joy that came before those tragedies is now not but a memory.

He watched the river flow around and over the rocks in the river. An inexorable force that would continue to flow. As he watched the river, he started to think about the river and it's path. It started high up in the mountains and flowed down towards the ocean. Many obstacles stood in the path of the river. Solid walls of rock would try to dam its path, mountains and hills would twist it.

But the river could not be stopped.

In some places, it would cut a path through solid rock, running deep and swift. In others it would grow shallow, its waters warmed by the gentle kiss of the sun. It would bring great change, wearing away the stone and in rocks in its path in some places, and by bringing life to others. And today, in one place, it would take the cares and sorrow of a broken man and wash them out to sea.

The man turned from the river, walking just a little straighter, and went back to work.

Rafting and Rum 2010

This year as I embarked on a semi-annual trip to spend some time in the rapids of Northern California, I knew it would be an interesting trip. I didn’t know, however, I would be performing an act of heroism that would save two members of the trip from boredom.

The first part of the day passed without too much incident, though I was the only person foolish enough to actually show up at the meeting spot at 5:30AM (thanks again, Toi). The 13 of us rolled out to Cache Creek, after making numerous jokes about who was going to be the unlucky member of our party. Little did we know how true those jokes almost were…(cue dramatic theme music)

We arrived at Cache Creek, applied various amounts of sunscreen, and loaded up on buses to get to the launch point. We elected to brace the rive in the larger five man rafts. My raft included the MVP of the trip, Ms. Carol Kim, the stoic Dat, my fellow navigator Delon, and the heroine Toi.

The first half of the day passed with an alarming number of naval battles, two rafts blasting each other with high-powered water cannons. My raft normally emerged the victor, as we had most of the water guns, but such is life. and life was grand. Right up until we the only Class 4 rapid, the Big Mother.

When we got to this rapid, we must have come in at a wrong angle, because according the picture that was snapped by the White Water Adventures staff, we went in backwards, hit a rock and capsized. In fact if you look at the picture we took, you can see the look on my face as I realized what is about to happen. To be specific, I’m flying out of the raft, and the heroine Toi is attempting to grab my arm to save me. To those of you who haven’t seen the two of us standing next to each other, Toi probably weighs all of 35 pounds when soaking wet, and she didn’t manage to keep me in the boat (but for some reason, she’s always trying to save me….). I believe that when I went over board, the shift in weight caused everyone else in the boat to pitch over the sides.

White Water Adventures staff were placed strategically around the rapids to help the unfortunate collect their paddles and boat, and soon had our boat floating down to us so we could retrieve it (read: so I could retrieve it. The other members of the boat were too busy clinging to each other to really help get the boat). I swam to collect the boat as fast as I could, as I was concerned for the various ice chests and a mesh bag. The mesh bag in particular contained several items of paramount importance. A pair of flip-flops, several bottles of sunscreen, and my remaining supply of rum.

Now, an important footnote to my tale is that I’m traveling with a bunch of folk that LOVE Hennessey. I think the word love doesn’t actually quite cover their affection for the stuff, but I, literally, can’t stomach the stuff. So I brought my own supply of tasty beverage, AKA RUM. I had brought two giant water bottles of the delicious nectar, with just a splash of coke and a twist of lime so you could just keep drinking it all day while enjoying the sun and water with some really good folk. Between Carol and myself, we had already finished one of the water bottles, and there was only one left to carry me through the rest of the first day, night, and following day. So before running afoul of Big Mother, the situation was already looking grim.

This knowledge was a huge concern to me as I swam as fast as I could to our raft. I spotted a lone flip-flop floating by and threw it in the boat. A kayaker was patrolling the area grabbing random items and throwing them into the boat. “There’s hope,” I told myself. “There’s hope.” I managed to grab the boat and angle it over to the shallows where everyone was waiting. I stoop up in the shallows and looked into the boat.

Murky water had flooded the boat when it had caught on the rapids, and various items were floating in the boat. Two sandals, an empty water bottle, and some random wrappers that I had never seen before. But no rum. Let me repeat this, NO RUM (Insert ‘why is the rum gone?’ comments here).

With everyone’s help we emptied the boat of the dirty water, and continued down the river. I have to admit, my heart just wasn’t in the paddling. The loss of the rum was a huge blow. I was going to be sober while everyone else would be sipping on Hennessey. I think I hit all five stages of grief in about 30 seconds.

After paddling down the river for about twenty minutes, something caught Carol’s attention. Somehow, while paddling through rapids, this girl spotted a small object about 30 feet away bobbing around the rocks. She turned to me and said, “Bryan, isn’t that your rum?”

My head snapped up, and somehow fixed on the small object she had spotted. Sure enough, my bottle of rum was making it’s own way through the rapids to our campsite. I now firmly believe Carol has a sixth sense when it comes to alcohol. I never would have seen the bottle, paddling right past it, never realizing what I was missing. I then did the only thing I could in such a situation. I abandoned a perfectly good ship (AKA raft) to save the rum….in the middle of a rather dicey stretch of rapids. I swam out into the treacherous waters, grabbed the rum, and curled up around it protectively, blocking the thrusts of river rocks with my body.

Above the rush of water, I heard Carol scream, “BRYAN! Throw me the rum!!!” Instantly, my arm whipped back and fired off a bullet of dark delicious goodness right to Carol that would have impressed even Joe Montana.

The river gods instantly grew angry with me for denying them their sacrificial bottle of rum, as rocks suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and the river turned white with foam. I was thrown into rocks covering my legs in bruises, scraps, and scrapes. I passed through the last stretch of rapids and saw Carol holding the magic bottle of rum. It was as if the clouds parted and the light of heaven shown down upon the bottle. I swam over, jumped into the boat, and cracked the top of the bottle to take the edge off the pain the fresh scratches and bruises were already bringing. I of course shared with Carol, and we dubbed the bottle, The Magic Bottle of Rum. Everyone got a sip, but I do believe they think I’m just a little crazy for jumping out after the rum. But they are obviously not rum drinkers.

My Very First Post - HUSH

This is an old poem I wrote a couple of years ago, but I thought I'd use it to start my blog

Hush,
A silence so deafening
That carries weight and meaning

Hush now,
The silence is fragile
Full of emotion, full of feeling

Hush now, no,
Silence carries the echo
Of all the things we do not say

Hush now, no more,
Silence can kill our laughter,
Even when the night breaks, moves into day

Hush now, no more fears,
The silence is broken by a quiet whisper
The gentle tone of a wanton guitar strums in the dawn

Hush now, no more,
The silence flees before these sounds
It cannot compete with the harmony that we have drawn

Hush now, no,
Stronger we are, together than alone
Lift your voice and heart up and sing loud and clear

Hush now,
The strength you have found deep inside
Listen to your true heart, allow it your course to steer

Hush,
The silence is broken
There is nothing more to fear.