I had a plan to write at least every two weeks this year. I did not stick to it for long, and I considered the possibility of throwing in the towel until next year. It’s an easy thing to do.
This year has a lot going on; I’m getting married to the love of my life, our daughter is consistently learning new skills as a toddler, and there’s plenty of travel planned (for work and for fun). It’s the perfect year to say, “I have too much going on to commit to this.” And yet, here I am.
Frankly, it’s because I’m becoming stubborn. I know how frustrated I’ll be if I get to June or July and look back at this thinking, “seriously? You couldn’t just write a little bit?” Biweekly was the goal, but it’s not a life-or-death commitment. Life isn’t just allowed to happen – it’s going to happen. There’s something to be said about lemons here, perhaps, but I can’t place my finger on it.
This post feels like spending a little extra time to say: I’ll keep this momentum alive in the coming weeks. I’m excited to continue reflecting on life and all of the beauty and struggle that comes with it.
Have you ever listened to a song so good that it made you cry?
I’m digressing a bit from my previous posts. I started to write out meandering thoughts about work-life balance and how the phrase is nonsense, but I’m not sure I’ve sorted out what I really think about that. Maybe next time.
Instead, I’ve been thinking about the power of music; the ability of a certain flow of songs to help you lock in for a project or workout. We all have a soundtrack for our lives, and despite how similar we are as people, we have wildly different cinematic scores for our journeys.
There have been a few instances in my life where a song features such moving lyrics, or a melody that swells and builds up to rock my soul, and I can’t help but cry. I’m sure there are some that folks won’t agree with, but I want to share some of the songs that have genuinely brought me to tears.
Brand New – “Jesus Christ”
This wasn’t even the first Brand New song I heard–that was “Seventy Times Seven”, and while I really enjoyed that, this was something entirely different for me. I was at a really dark place in my life when I first heard this and it felt like a lot of my feelings were being read back to me, and it was powerful. Watching them perform this live only hit me that much harder. The music doesn’t hit me the same way as it did since I’ve climbed out of those dark places, but I’ve got a special place in my heart for this band and this song is one of my all-time favorites.
Kendrick Lamar – “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst”
Kendrick gradually became my favorite hip hop artist over time. I saw him open for Kanye West during the Yeezus tour and hadn’t really listened to him much, but thought his performance was really good. I finally sat down to listen to good kid, m.A.A.d city and it was monumental. Every track and moment had a purpose, and it was an engrossing story. The lyrics in this song and overarching story were painful at times to hear but so well done that I was hooked. There’s a quick part right at the end of the verse that shocked me, and then I was captivated for the rest of the 12 minutes of the song. He has put out a few songs that have really struck an emotional chord with me (“u” off of To Pimp a Butterfly, for example), but this was the first one that showed me the emotional depth of his work.
La Dispute – “King Park”
This is another track that’s a story, and it crushed me the first time I heard it. I was on a plane and had added a bunch of songs by different artists that I hadn’t checked out much of. I knew a few early songs by La Dispute and found them to be really good, but I had never stopped to take in all of their work the way they deserve. This song changed things. It stopped me in my tracks as it crescendoed to the painful finale and I remember gripping the arm rests because I was so emotionally invested in the story.
Explosions in the Sky – “The Birth and Death of the Day”
Pure musical magic. This is an interesting addition because I actually didn’t cry the first time I heard it. I love this band and have been a fan since I listened to “Your Hand in Mine” a long time ago. That said, this one hit me especially hard because I listed to it on a walk the day after I found out my partner was pregnant. It was an absolute surprise for both of us, and when she originally told me, my reaction was thoughtful silence as I looked around the apartment feeling like everything around me was a mirage. I finally reacted with a “…huh,” and was speechless for a while after.
The next day, I went on a walk. It wasn’t something I normally did, but it felt like I needed to process the news. I popped my headphones on and hit shuffle on my library, and this was the first song that played as I stepped outside. I swear, my senses were heightened beyond anything I had experienced before. The world was suddenly in high-definition with crisp colors; I felt the ground crunch and give like it was alive with me; I could smell the scent of the air like it was breathing into me. I was so overwhelmed with a new sense of life and purpose and this song was the masterpiece behind that turning point. It would be about 9 months later that I cried again about this, and I was a puddle. But this song gets the credit for playing such a pivotal role in a life-changing walk.
I could probably write about a few other deeply moving songs that have shaped me or broken me, but those are the tracks that instantly come to mind when I think about being taken on emotional journeys. It’s amazing how long we’ve had the majesty of music and yet we haven’t run out of ways to express our joy, pain, and everything in between.
What was the best promise you ever made to yourself, and was it actually a New Year’s resolution?
It’s so easy to get sucked into this tradition of making an extreme commitment to changing your life. I’ve given myself resolutions that bordered impossibility in the past and had the audacity to be *shocked* when I couldn’t follow through. There are some folks that can set incredible goals for themselves and then achieve those goals, and I think those people are titans among mortals. They break the mold of humanity and inspire the masses to strive for more.
I am not a titan. I am unbelievably mortal. I crushed my toes when I was walking out of the bedroom this morning because I didn’t see my walking pad buried under some sheets and blankets. I then hit those same toes again a couple of hours later walking through the living room, this time against the corner of my daughter’s play pen. Those poor little piggies do not belong to a titan. They belong to a clumsy dad who just wants to feel a little more energized, like he did when he was in his twenties.
That said, this mortal man gave himself a few resolutions to get to a better place.
I’m committing to reading in a more meaningful way than I have in the past. I used to be obsessed with the number of books I could knock out in a year (and the number was never particularly impressive, for you avid bookworms out there). A few years ago I was so excited when I read 36 books. Today, I can only tell you a bit about 10 of those books. I realized that (apologies in advance for the incoming cringe) I’m reading to fill a chart instead of reading to fill my heart. It’s silly, but it’s true. I want to read things that truly intrigue me and that I expect to find fulfilling. I also read a variety of genres, so I want to get high-quality reads in those realms. My biggest goals this year are Demon Copperhead (which I’m currently reading), James, The Lord of the Rings, and a good nonfiction read.
I’m committing to movement and healthier choices. That’s vague because I’ve given myself specific weight loss goals in the past and couldn’t stick to the plans. Now, I’m thinking about it in terms of my energy; I am committed to being more active and making better choices about what I eat so that I have more energy to spend time with my family. This felt like a goal I could point to for encouragement when I’m thinking about being sedentary for another 5 hours.
I’m committing to setting firm boundaries between work and my personal life. This is extraordinarily difficult to do, because I’m dedicating my professional self to being successful so that I can earn a promotion by 2026. However, I have been a child of a parent who obsesses over work at the cost of quality time, and it’s not worth it. I want to spend time with my partner and daughter making memories. I got really good at this when my daughter was born, and I’ll talk about how she changed my entire life in greater detail some time, but I want to continue to be accountable with this commitment.
I’m committing myself to this website. I have always loved to write but could never build the discipline and commitment to writing consistently, let alone putting that writing out there on the internet for the world to scrutinize. But as stressful as it can be to put yourself out into the world like that, regret is so much worse. So, I’m going to continue writing and sharing these reflections in 2025.
More importantly, I’m committed to giving myself grace. We can put together the most thought-out, structured plan that considers every contingency in our heads, but life (or fate, or God, or whatever you believe in) usually isn’t privy to your plans. So, be prepared to pivot and accept that sometimes, things change. Sometimes, you can’t get out to the gym, or read that book, or write that next post you really wanted to. In those moments, it will be easy to feel like you’re failing, and that can be frustrating. Breathe. This isn’t failure. It’s life.
First comes life, then comes living.
These aren’t the best promises I’ve ever made to myself. Those came at critical moments in my life, highs and lows. The holiday shouldn’t be about making insane promises. Rather, it’s about remembering, reflecting, renewing, and renovating. I am still me, with all of my flaws and blemishes. I remember the good, the bad, and the beautiful. I reflect on these things with others to celebrate, or understand, or to simply accept. I renew my commitments to things I felt good doing. I renovate by committing to change habits or behaviors in an effort to keep feeling good.
And above all else, I rely on my commitment to giving myself grace.
When I hit my thirties, I had cautious optimism about the future. I meandered through my youth and twenties; shortcuts led to traps and scenic routes took me far off the path, until I felt lost and defeated. There were moments where I wondered what the point of all of this was. Am I just here to take up space? Am I an extra in someone else’s story? I was disconnected from my family, my identity, and my passions.
Two years ago, things changed. I recognized that I let myself become a passenger on my own journey, and, thanks to an incredible support system, regained control. I fell in love with my soon-to-be wife. We made incredible memories, and then got life-changing news: we were pregnant. My entire world flipped and I had no idea what was going to happen next. The next nine months involved various shifts in my behavior and priorities. I got closer to my mother, who was over the moon about becoming a grandma. I felt an overwhelming need to protect my fiancee. I read books about fatherhood and met with other dads to get their advice. I reconnected with my cousin and became close with a newer group of friends. I found a stronger passion for my work and achieving a level of comfortable income that could provide for my family. There was an anticipation growing inside of me that I couldn’t describe when I thought about the impending birth of my first child.
And then, she arrived.
The moment my daughter was born, everything clicked. I saw her entire life, and I saw mine. I felt every emotion I would experience in my existence-past, present, and future, all at once. The world stopped and I saw it for all of its imperfection and beauty, and I knew how I fit in. I’m not here to take up space. I’m here for my fiancee. I’m here for my daughter. I’m here for myself. My story is their story; their story is our story; our story is your story.
She’s a year old, and that year was both difficult and rewarding. I learned so much about myself, my partner, our relationship, my family, my interests, my culture, and how it all shapes my identity. Nothing is perfect. Some days, I’m on top of the world. Some days, I’m in the trenches. Most days, things are good.
Recently, I wanted to reconnect with one of my passions: writing. I have loved writing and storytelling since I was a kid. I love the power it has to entertain, teach, and help me to reflect. The problem is that I never know what it is I want to write about. I get so lost in my head that I don’t know what it is I want to say. I end up feeling like an old ship at sea in the dead of night, clouds blocking the light from the moon and stars, unsure of where I can navigate to next. That can be painful to push through, but then I think about how dark things used to be, and then I remember:
Every moment, challenge, decision, and action, brought us all to this place in life. Good, bad, calm, and chaos. And it is majestic.
I hope this blog helps me to remember that, especially when things get hard. That’s ultimately what this is about: reflecting on my experiences and interests to understand my identity and continue to establish my place in the world.
The Majesty of Being Alive 