This weekend on a whim I decided to go to Yellowstone national park. I live about an hour and half away so it's not exactly like I was crossing the country to go there. The weather report said there was going to be overcast skies with temperatures in the 60's and 70's. Not bad for a place with an average elevation of 6,800 ft.
The weather report was wrong.
It rained. And after it rained it got colder. And when it got colder the rain turned to snow and hail and all sorts of horrendous things that human beings living outside of Antarctic are not supposed to deal with in the summer.
Furthermore, I was unprepared. I own a tent, sleeping bag (rated for 0 degrees), and an air mattress. I packed a long sleeve shirt, a sweatshirt, and a change of underwear. I had on me a pair of jeans, t shirt, and a windbreaker.
The craziest thing is that I was staying at a campground with ~750 other people. Most were in tents, some had RV's or campers. I doubt any of them were truly aware of the incoming weather because, after all, every weather report said that it was going to be a nice memorial day weekend.
Now to the essence of my post. Nobody in there right mind would consider me a "man's man." In fact, those who are only somewhat aware of my existence probably think I'm gay. I find it enjoyable to throw in little homoerotic comments every now and then just to see people's reactions. The fact that I live with 5 other guys doesn't help. I think the best box to put me in, if boxes are how you do things, would be to say I'm androgynous. Truth be told, I just don't care that much. I am what I am and stopped caring what other people wondered or said.
So my androgynous self decides to go to Yellowstone. Hoping for some good photographs from the spontaneous trip. Remember- not a man's man, but I'm also not an idiot and am plenty able to take care of myself, be it in a city or the nation's first national park. It starts to get cold. Then it starts to hail. Beating my tent senseless and making anything resembling sleep impossible. Then it gets colder and the hail turns to snow.
I left my tent. Moved to the car and hunkered down for the rest of the night in there. It wasn't much warmer (illegal to idle your car in Yellowstone) but it wasn't nearly as wet.
My alarm goes off at 4:15am. I needed to get to this certain spot by sunrise. As I drove out of the campsite I noticed my fellow humans in their tents and their RV's, most who were probably feeling more miserable than I. And an idea started to creep into my head at this point...the world doesn't care about us.
It's not karmic, it goes against most major world religions, and it's something I'm still dealing with. All I know is that 750 people were treated to a pretty rude awakening the previous night. Regardless of how manly they were, how womanly they were, how much training or experience they had. No amount of boy scout preparation can ever deal with the fact that nature doesn't care about your plans. It doesn't care about your equipment. It doesn't care about your manliness.
And so with this pleasant thought formulating in my brain I continued to drive. A truly beautiful drive...minus the unplowed roads, the twists and turns and sudden drops, and the accumulated 3-5 inches of snow. I did have a good time. I like being alone in nature and this was about as alone as one can get. No cell reception. Nobody around for 50 miles in any direction (and when I say 50 miles, I mean that every 50 miles there is a bathroom and an emergency phone...not actual people). I blazed the trail. I took my truck and my unmanliness and drove through the wilderness.
I got to my destination about two hours later. The Yellowstone canyon claims to be the only rival to the Grand Canyon in the USA. Had to see for myself. The canyon is the last stop on the map at this point in the season. It's as far north as you can go before all the roads close. And so there I was at 6:05am at the edge of Yellowstone.
My car slid off the road. Not dramatically or dangerously. About 5 miles from the canyons I hit a spot of ice (remember I'm trailblazing still at this point) and slowly slid off the road. What happened next?
I didn't butch up. I didn't man up. I didn't grow a pair. I stepped out of my car, got my shovel from the back and started clearing the snow out in front of me. It took 20 minutes or so of hard work with a shitty shovel but it got done. I backed my car out and kept going. Nobody cheered. No triumphant music played. I didn't feel any more manly than the moment before.
I reached my destination and like any good photographer I began to freeze my ass off waiting for good lighting. It's not deathly cold (around 30 degrees) but in six inches of snow with jeans and a sweatshirt I wasn't exactly doing well. Once again I was reminded of the simple fact that the world doesn't care about what other people say you are. It rains on the just and the unjust alike.
The sun broke through the clouds for all of 20 minutes. I got some good shots and some bad ones. I packed up my gear and started to drive home.
The road was closed.
The same road that I had come in on maybe an hour or two hours before.
There was an accident. Somebody had driven off the road.
I waited. Maybe an hour went by.
When the road finally opened they drove us through with a lead car in the front. Don't pass and don't fall behind that car they said.
The car probably went off the road 20 miles or so before I did. Undoubtedly he was following the trail that I originally blazed. That my manliness was able to conquer and his was not. The accident wasn't in one of those "it's no big deal if you go off the road here" spots. It was a straight drop about 10 or 15 feet at a 75 degree angle and then trees.
The car didn't look good.
No word on the people inside. Could be just fine. Could be dead. I have no clue whatsoever. What I do know is that the world didn't pay him any special moments before he drove off the road following my trail. It didn't ask if he was a nice man. It didn't ask if he payed his taxes. It didn't ask if he beat his wife. It didn't care about how manly or how feminine he was.
And so here I am. Still the same man I was before but slightly changed. I have this theory that people don't really change all that much, just that the blank areas of their portrait get shaded in. I don't know if I'm right or wrong about that but it's how I feel right now.
On my trip I was cold. Sore. Happy. Exuberant. Content. In love. There was never a moment when I would have considered myself manly.
The truth is that I don't really know what that means. If someone wants to give it a shot and explain it to me I'm all ears.
Until then I'll wake up and greet the world with a smile on my face and a little adventure in my heart. To go out and seek a great perhaps.
Firstly, I believe in giving credit where credit is do. So see Leo Babauta's post for my inspiration.
An excellent place to begin. To create. I'm not entirely sure what it means or how it is properly done. I know that I do it often. I believe that it is one of the truly unique things we can do in this world. What we wear isn't unique, what we say isn't unique, how we act isn't unique. And yet originality does exist. In a surprising number of shapes and iterations. How is this possible? creation.
We all have the ability to create. As children we played pretend and make-believe. We danced when there was no music, we talked to things that only we saw, we saw things no one else did. Children are fantastic creators. I don't think they are the best, just incredibly good. Imagine you were drafting a football team, there is a child who has an incredibly strong arm, he seems very mature and smart, and really loves playing football all the time...he's also 12. Do you draft him? Of course not. The kid has potential, nothing more and nothing less. Children all have potential as creators. It's almost like they are instinctual good at it.
We are all creators of one type or another. Whether it is something everyone recognizes as creativity like art, or something more nuanced and under-appreciated, like farming. Both are creation in very real, tangible senses of the words. While we may not all understand every work of art, we do recognize that something exists in the space in front of our eyes. In farming it may be possible we don't know every aspect that went in to production, yet nobody denies that something exists where previously nothing had.
Even the more metaphysical ideas are creation. The things that aren't tangible. Ideas are created all the time. Our brains are a powerhouse of creation. The difference between having an idea or having potential and true creation is the part when you bring it into the world. Ideas are the backbone of all creation (all things if you want to be technical) but unless we bring it out into the world that idea is wasted.
Everything you see here, and some that you don't, I did in one day (as of 5pm on May 29, 2011). In one day I created something that I had put off for months. I've had blogs before. I write all the time. And yet for months I put this off, for no real tangible reason. Something came up, I didn't feel like doing it, there was something else going on.
But do you want to know the kicker? The thing that stopped me more than anything else...I couldn't find a really great template. I searched and I searched but either the coding was too advanced for me or it didn't fit my style. Months I spent not writing because I couldn't find the very best template in the world. I wanted drop-down menus and snazzy features that could be instantly linked to every social networking site known to man. Now look at this site. Clean, simple, and to the point. You know what the best part of that simplicity is...it doesn't get in the way of me creating.
I am still wondering what exactly I will put on this blog. I have a world for acting and creation, my podcast with Rolando Fuentes. That's a character based on myself. Some things I really feel but mostly I just am trying to get people to smile. More than that is that it gave me something to do, an outlet. I have, and will continue to have, my personal writings. Things that nobody, or so few as to constitute nobody, will ever see. So what is this for? Right now I'm hoping for a blend of the two. My "stage" persona of the podcast and the "real" me. But the truth is that I am still working on it, and I will always be working on it. I started writing because it felt like what I needed to do. I had to create.
So many roadblocks get in the way of creating. Embarrassment, pain, negative feedback, laziness, pride, etc. I'm hoping this blog will be a way to overcome some of those roadblocks. I hope you will participate in my creation by creating something of your own. Create a comment. Create a tweet. Create a post. Leave the computer and create a lego set, or a movie, or a new idea. Never stop creating. It is the one truly unique thing that you can do.