Searching for a New Apartment - Again

There's something that I have learned very recently (about 11 months ago): Looking for a new place to live is a blessing.

It reminds us of the impermanence of life. 

It reminds me that, in the most real sense possible, I don't really have a home here (not yet, at least). No place will ever give me rest - true rest - rest for my soul.

Transience is life.

Today I spent over an hour driving the streets of Saint Charles, looking for apartments for rent. The booty: three places. That's it. I drove every street in the area where we want to move to, I called all three places, and left three voice messages.

Today I find myself in an interesting situation: Time is short to find a new place. Prospects in our desired location are slim. So now what? Ah! The answer is so simple...

Don't worry. 


I'll let you know how I do, continuing to relish existence in the void of not knowing where I'll be living in six weeks. Update coming soon...

We're Here to Help

I met with a friend today whom I hadn't seen in months - probably close to four. His wife had a baby about eight weeks ago, and 12 weeks ago, my wife had a baby, and 16 weeks ago, my family moved a half hour away from where we used to live. It makes spending time with former friends difficult and many times, just plain unmanageable. But not today.

So his wife just had a baby; and, just like me, he's a stay-at-home dad (whatever that means). It's not the easiest road to travel, and now my friend and I can empathize with each other and those dads around the country who stay at home during the day and make less money that their wives.

We concluded our time together, our babies in hand, by me saying a few words of encouragement and praying for him. The main point I wanted to drive home was that we'd always be available to him and his wife if they needed to talk, bounce ideas off of us, hang out, pray with or for them, or otherwise agonize together as parents.

Megan and I want to be known as doers of friendship, not just lip service friends. We want you to know that if there is anything we can do for *you*, we're here to help.

When I'm Not Me

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:CrayonLogs.jpg

Over the past month, I've had conversations with two different friends about what it means to be "me" - whoever you are. We all came to the same conclusion:

One thing that makes you you is that you find special satisfaction in doing a particular type (or types) of work. You've been uniquely gifted, and if you're not regularly exercising those gifts, you're acting contrary to how you were created to act.

Those gifts could be anything: dancing, typing, editing, marketing, talking with people, building, designing, writing, punching or crunching numbers, analyzing, caring for someone, snapping a picture, digging holes, driving, teaching, learning - whatever. The thing is, sometimes your desired vocation doesn't turn out to be your occupation - at least for a particular season in life. But hang in there. I say that as one who struggles with this very thing.

Just to clarify: vocation is just one part of who we are. It isn't the whole person. It's not even the most important part of the whole. But it's a part that gets over-emphasized in countries like the USA.

I Don't HAVE to, I GET to

I love my family.

Sometimes they're difficult. Sometimes they prevent me from doing the things I love to do. But this is all just a part of life, isn't it? Anything can cause us difficulty or keep us from having fun, etc...

I think I'm learning that when you truly love, you're choosing to be in pain - as you love. Here's why:

Love is sacrificial - self-giving, other-oriented, not selfish at all. What does selfishness look like? Putting your desires above the desires of those you love, and when you don't get what you want, you make a big stink about it. (Keep in mind, love isn't one-way - it happens in relationship, so both people have to be giving of themselves, and sometimes it works out that someone is sacrificially loving you - you're the receiver.)

Next, when you hang your heart on the line - when you love - you're bound to be let down by the people you love. People suck. People hurt the people they love the most. Why? They don't really do it on purpose. It's a product of the fact that we spend the majority of our time with the people we love the most. People are prone to act contrary to the way they were originally designed to act (in perfect love).

Now here's how this post relates to my title:

A selfish man would say, "I have to stay home with my children during the day, so my wife can work a steady job." A loving man would say, "I get to stay home with my kids..." I'll be honest. I'm definitely feeling somewhere in between today. Of course, it's because I'm not perfect and I struggle with selfishness - probably more than the next man! But you can't say I'm not trying to work on or figure out how to fully, truly say "I get to..."

Also, my kids are cute. Seth in the leaves and Eleanor with wide eyes.

P90X and Climbing

A very good friend of mine recently recommended that I try working out with the P90X home fitness video series. He was so serious about having me give it a shot that, for my birthday, he bought me a pull-up bar. Why I all that interested? Nope. Do I like home fitness videos? Definitely not? But do I want to improve my climbing ability? Absolutely.

Some of you may remember that my first post of the new year (2011) was a set of new year resolutions. You can read 'em HERE. One of those resolutions was to climb 5.11a. Basically, it's a difficulty rating system used by climbers and anything rated 5.11x is right in the middle of it - not too easy, not too hard. So all in all, I set a humble, moderate goal of being able to climb about 1/2 of all routes.

I've only done two sessions/days of P90X and, so far, it has spanked my pants off - hard. On the third day, yesterday, I went climbing at Devil's Lake. I was sore, but was able to pull off a couple of good routes fairly cleanly - a couple 5.8's and a 5.9. (Devil's Lake ratings are stiffer than anywhere else I've climbed, so a Devil's 5.8 is really at least a "real" 5.9 and a Devil's 5.9 is at least a "real" 5.10a.

A few months ago - back in May, when I was climbing more regularly (READ: before our second child was born), I was easily climbing 5.10b and was close to climbing 5.10c. (The steps from 5.10a and 5.11a are: 5.10a, 5.10b, 5.10c, 5.10d, and 5.11a.) I feel like I've taken a small step backwards, but still hope to be able to accomplish my goal by year-end.

So the hope is that P90X helps to round out my training, so that I'm not *just* climbing, which has pretty much been the case for a while now. I've been feeling like a slug, and, with the exception of a handful of runs between today and this past May, it's been all I've done.

I'll fill you in on how I'm doing in the coming weeks...

Special Thanks: The Hursthouse Family

I just wanted to give a special thanks to my friends, Bob, Robbie, and Scott Hursthouse, who hosted a concert for me at Scott's house in Channahon, IL, this past weekend. I had an awesome time, there was a great turn-out, and they were more than generous, providing everybody with great drinks and food, and sending me away with a nice, little care package, including pulled pork, rib tips, and sweet potato pie!

A Human Struggle for Recognition

This morning, I had a little bit of time to think about why people blog. It was on my mind because I actually took some time today to read the blogs of a couple of good friends of mine. We don't read our friends' blogs (usually) because we already know what's going on in their lives, how they feel about things, and how they're continuing down this strange path of existence we call life.

The bottom line? We all struggle with a lot of different things, but there are common ones, too. Though there are obviously many reasons, I think blogging is motivated primarily by a desire to be recognized as a person, separate from everyone else. It's a desire to find meaning behind why we're alive; because if we're all pretty much the same, we all live, we all die, we're simply a part of the lineage of the human race, then what's really the point?

Humans don't just want to exist. They want to matter.

I don't think that I blog because I'm searching for answers so much myself, but that I kind of hope that I can help other people cope with that struggle - that desire - and can move them in the direction of discovery for themselves...

My new album, Fundamental, really is the closest I've come so far to expressing this and other struggles common to the human experience in my music. If you haven't yet, you should check it out, here:

http://jaymathes.com/music/fundamental

To some of you, I know I still owe you copies of the album. I'll try to make that happen this week. Sorry for the delay!

Picture: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:V-J_Day_Times_Square_NYWTS.jpg

Mosquito Fleet / Milano Concert Review

This past Friday night, some friends of mine, Mosquito Fleet, performed at the local coffee shop, La Spiaza. While I don't exactly like the "venue" or their coffee. Or the owner. Or how they treat the artists who perform there. I do like the atmosphere when there's great, live music being played. Opening for Mosquito Fleet was a band called Milano - some very talented chaps from Chicago, whose lead singer, Joe Guerra, is artist-in-residence at The Line Church in Lincoln Park. Pretty cool gig, if you ask me...

So about the concert...

In a word: impressive.

I only caught a few tunes from Milano, but what I heard was polished, refreshing, a combination of alternative, folk-rock, and a hint of traditional country.

Mosquito Fleet? I love these guys. They bring it every time they perform, and this concert, the record release show for their new EP, was no exception. Without the luxury of having stage monitors, the band did more than just keep it together. Standing at the front, right up against the band - within inches of Josh, the bassist, and feet of everyone else, I had a chance to look back in to the audience and take pictures of the scene in my mind:

Laughter. Heads moving. The floor bowed down with each kick drum hit from feet jumping ever-so-slightly to the beat. Bass emanating from the house speakers gave me blurred vision. And several faces with glazed-over eyes, lips pursed and turned up with joy as ears take it all in: lyrics. music. life.

Even with flawed lead vocals on a number of songs - no doubt caused, in part, by the lack of monitors - Mosquito Fleet still got their point across: they love performing the music they write for the people who love it and they don't ever want to stop.