Ad Infinitum

This is hardly a blog. I just wanted to post pictures of the recent Lunar Eclipse. Seeing the pictures hardly accounts for the glamour of seeing it first hand.

“The Rest Can Wait”
By: Timothy Grundvig
March 25, 2007

Puzzled and awry
Feelings unfelt
Heart locked away
Full of doubt

Choices unmade
Left undecided
Future bleak
Unable to hide it

Wanting an answer
To the undying question
Reasoned with guilt
But claimed with treason

Power overwhelming
No chance to change
Desire and need
Crumbling with rage

Uneasiness and fright
In turbulent waters
Frozen conscious
Uneasy or unwilling

Lost and confused
Needing direction
Helplessness
Deprived of affection

Hit or stand
Play with fate
Dabble, not dawdle
The rest can wait

Born and bred in a Christian home. Raised in a Christian church. There are fifty-two Sundays per year (approximately). That means that I attended somewhere around 832 Sunday Schools sessions by time I turned 16 years old. That doesn’t count Awanas, Wednesday night bible studies, Friday night sizzlin’ summer studies, Sunday night worship, Tuesday evening devotions, etc. I bet it’d be safe to say I’ve spent a good portion of my life at the Church.

Understanding. I have it. Throughout my high school career, if you want to call it that, my friends came to me for biblical advice. It wasn’t that I was wiser than them. It wasn’t that I was somehow more important than them. I just simply read the bible more. I understood it, well at least more so than most my age. I knew it extremely well. I had hidden ‘God’s word in my heart, so that I would not sin against him,’ you could say.

Even with all of the knowledge and understanding I doubted. I second guessed. I often ventured into the lukewarm. Going from hardcore Christian, to lukewarm Christian, back to hardcore. It was a cycle. Back and forth. Back and forth. Years were spent. Unable to decide. Like a child faced with the option of candy bars or ice cream.

As a hardcore Christian I felt like something was askew. Like a picture on a wall that won’t stay parallel to the ceiling. I felt like it wasn’t real, but whenever I strayed away I felt guilty. I was not joyful either way. I had to make a choice. Twenty years had passed and the past six had been this way. Like a baseball in a game of catch. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Each time the space between us getting further and further. I didn’t want to be in the middle. I wanted to be black or I wanted to be white. A decision had to be made.

For a period of time that I didn’t care to mark, I’d imagine a month or two, I asked all the questions I could think of.

“Why do I believe in God?”

Was I raised that to believe?
Am I classically conditioned?
Do I have it made up in my mind that He is real?
Do I really believe the Bible is true?

Knowing all I knew about the Bible I couldn’t give myself a real reason for my belief for my foundation of my life for the past twenty years. With all the camps I have been to, all the leadership training, all the evangelical messages I’d been given… all for naught. I couldn’t answer one of the most basic questions for the Christian faith. What if a stranger asked me? What if a friend asked me? If I didn’t have a real answer for myself how could I have one for someone else?

I continued to ask myself these questions. Searching for the answer. I didn’t want the guilt. I didn’t want the fake feeling. I wanted to live my life.

I don’t remember all of the exact details, to be honest. The conclusion I came up with is that I don’t actually believe. It took a lot of thinking and questioning, but I decided that I do not believe in all the Bible has to say.

As more time passes by the more it seems like this choice should have been easier, but what it really came down to is that I don’t feel I really believed. I think I stopped believing sometime around high school. I don’t know why for sure, but I think I continued with “believing” for a few reasons.

• It was challenging.
• It was a way for me to be a little more unique and go against the grain.
• I was familiar with it already, it was within my comfort zone.
• I felt that I was classically conditioned rather than believing by free will.
• I enjoyed having the answers, I enjoyed studying the bible. Not because it was “the bible” but because I have always had a thirst for knowledge.

In light of the above, I realized that a lot of the reasons for my belief were selfish. I was a hypocrite and was blind to it. This is where it became easy for me to toss the Christian title. I decided that I was no long Christian. I have lived my life since that day as such. I do not believe I have felt guilty of it once. I do not have any regrets (as I never have for as long as I can remember).

I honestly didn’t think it would be quite as easy as it was. The fear of my peers was pretty overwhelming sometimes. So many of my friends were friends from church. Friends I had gone to bible studies with, prayed with, shared Christian bonds with. I feared rejection and judgment. However, most of my friends haven’t passed judgments upon me. They have accepted me and my choice in life. I wouldn’t say they support it, but they haven’t forsaken me or spit on me.

In the end, I’m not all that different. Yes, I’ve made changes in my life styles, but I’m still the same person. I just don’t do everything according to the bible. I feel like I’m more honest than I was. I feel like I’m living the truth now. To those of you that are curious, yes, I would say that I am happier and a bit more joyful than I was.

For as long as I can remember I have lived my life without regret. Not looking back has made life easier. It’s actually a biblical philosophy. The bible often speaks about worry and dwelling. I made it a point to do those as little as possible. I do not regret living the way I have for so long. It has made me the man I am today. I do not write this to say you’re wrong for believing, I write this to say it is not right for me.

My plans are set. The details worked out. I know what I’m doing and where I’ll be.

Tomorrow morning I am waking up, somewhat late, and going on a two-hundred thirty mile road trip to Los Osos, California. We will be making our camp site at the Montaña De Oro campgrounds along the coast. By we I mean myself and about nine of my Bakersfield friends. Last year a good buddy of mine, Daniel, organized a similar event last year where the turn out was slightly smaller. I believe we had four people, plus myself and Doug for a day and one half. This year it is about twice the amount of people. I hope it becomes tradition, annual, regular, habitual. We camp out in the beautiful campsites not more than fifty yards from the beautiful, blue Pacific Ocean.

Unfortunately the ride down there is pretty bland. Mostly strait freeway road(s). Highway 101 to Highway 41. Not much adventure in that. However, once I’m there it will be a trip to remember. Filled with companionship, adventure, excitement, riding, food, and just an experience that I’ll ride away from smiling, as I always do.

I know, another boring post. Life is full of disappointments, get used to it! :) Hopefully I’ll have an exciting post after the trip and if you’re lucky I’ll even post pictures!

I love music. I’m always looking for more bands and artists to add to my collection. It’s hard to find new stuff since I don’t listen to radio and I’m not around a lot of major music fans. Pandora. is the solution to this. You type in an artist or band and it’ll find a popular song by them and play it. Then if you like it it’ll find others that are similar based off some very detailed tests. It’s great. I’ve found so much more music that I love. There is always new music to play. If you create a free account you can save your favorites and different types of stations. You can have one for just a single band, or you can have one for a genre or whatever you want. It’s great. You can share a station and everything. It’s always on now! Sorry for such a lame post!

ul·te·ri·or (&l-’tîr-ē-&r)
adj.

1. Lying beyond what is evident, revealed, or avowed, especially being concealed intentionally so as to deceive: an ulterior motive.
2. Lying beyond or outside the area of immediate interest.
3. Occurring later; subsequent.

Maybe I am overly paranoid. I have difficulty in truly trusting people. Do not get me wrong. Once you’ve attained my trust you have it wholly and without fault. I rarely, if ever, second-guess those I truly trust. Although, there are few, very few, I can say I am able to utterly rely upon.

No matter how nice the person, I almost always feel there is an angle. I sense there is more to what they say or how they act. Even the ones that appear pure and genuine, at times. In the back of my mind I can hardly help but let my mind populate what ulterior motives lie in their unsaid conscious.

Predominantly, I do not believe people have it out to get me. It isn’t that people are estrange because I go against the grain. It is more because I believe strongly in human nature. I presume even more unequivocally that the preponderance of people look out for numero uno. When someone bestows kindness upon me undeserved I ponder, I question. As I shrug in puzzlement I allow my cognizance to contemplate why someone would do me a favor when it is obviously going to set them back. It is a gain for me and a loss for them. Who, in their right mind, would do this (Note: This excludes family, friends, loved ones, etc. for obvious reasons)? I speak this with a bit of hypocrisy becacuse I do it on occasion, but I know my own hearts content and I do it because when it really comes down to it… I just don’t care and it doesn’t matter to me. Simply put, I have a hard time believing that someone would go out of their way to accomodate me.

Why the ulterior motive(s)? Why not be open about your intentions? Why not be genuine?

Blunt. Trenchant. Candid. Straightforward. Abrupt. Impudent.

The voluminous amount of people I meet and/or know are seldom any of the listed.

Covert. Ambigious. Enshrouded. Recondite. Incognito. Shrouded.

This is how the vast majority are. We side-step the difficulty. We take the long way around to avoid the conflict. We’d rather give up pride and self-respect than front the encounter. We put up a façade to mask our true intentions. We are devious, deceitful, and dangerous. We wish to put up a phony pretext that we are something we are not. We want people to see us in a light of a different shade. A shade not our own. It’s BS.

I have… issues when it comes to honesty, if that were not already evident by now. I understand that people lie. I lie. I am not blameless. Although, I feel there is a proper time, place, and reason for it that makes some lying acceptable, on one level or another. I suppose this could simply be my manipulation talking so I can rationalize the action of my lies. In any case I’ll continue to spout off.

Some admissible lies are:

• Lying to protect a friend. To a certain extent. Pleading the 5th is the best, but if it will leave them open to suspicion, I understand.
• Telling a loved one that they look better than they actually do; or saying they did a better job than they actually did. I do not condone it, but I understand and I am guilty of it at times.
• Lying to cover up something sweet or nice you did or are going to do for a person. Lying to surprise them is forgivable.
• Other minor, small things of little importance.
• Etcetera.

Personally, I don’t like people telling me that I did a better job than I really did. I excuse it because its human nature, but it doesn’t mean I like or appreciate it. I personally prefer and admire bluntness. I won’t promise you that I won’t be offended or hurt. It is bound to happen. I am able, however, to assure you that I won’t hold it against you or be mad/upset with you. The truth is harder to say, but easier to hear.

Honesty is such a fine line though. Relationships. Relationships can cause honesty to be difficult. Everybody has their own opinion and viewpoints on this. Obviously I have mine. Relationships don’t have to be 100% honesty. Now hear me out. I don’t believe you have to tell your bf/gf/husband/wife everything. A guy hits on you at work and you come home and tell me about it. Refrain, please. I do not want or need to know this information. This is why you have girlfriends. Tell them that you think Richard Gere is cute. I do not need to know.

Again, it is such a fine line where extreme discretion and common sense need to be exercised to its utmost ambit. I don’t need to know the events of your day. I’m a male. It isn’t that I do not care, necessarily, it is that it simply does not interest me. I cannot fix it. I does not bring about conflict. So it is simply uninteresting to me. Instead of walking out of a movie saying, “That was a cute movie.” Say something along the lines of, “Wow, there is no way a police would have taken action like that because, well, first, police don’t carry around Uzi Sub-Machine guns and then they obviously don’t open fire in such public and populated locations.” That brings conflict. That brings interest. So, if you want to tell me about your day, tell me in a way that will bring interest. If a man hits on you, tell me how you kicked him in the nuts and broke his nose.

Of all characteristics, I think I respect, admire, honor, and appreciate honesty above them all. Respect me and be honest and I’ll show you the same respect. Criticize me. Critique. Not all of my posts can be “nicely written” can they? My opinion cannot always be accurate, can it? Tell me I’m wrong. Dare me. Honor me. Show me.

/end_mindless_rant

What is home?

* “Home is where you hang your hat.”
* “Home follows the family.”
* “Home is where the heart is.”
* “Love makes a house a home.”
* “Home is where you make it.”

How do you define home?

Note: This post is continually being updating.
———————————————————————————————————————————–

Steffani: The place where you feel most comfortable and safe.
Todd: It’s a place where you live.
Naomi: Home is where the heart is, rofl.
Randy: Where the people you love are.
Natlie G.: I guess it’s wherever you belong.
My Mother: Home to me is Jesus. It’s family. It’s my husband.
Kate: Home for me, is where I belong, where I am welcomed, where I am never turned out, a place I love. My house is a home, but I have made homes elsewhere.
Samantha: Home is the place where nothing else matters but being there. Problems are a thing of the outside world when you’re at home. It can be anywhere, at anytime, the only substantiating quality that makes it “home” is that it is exactly where you belong at that moment. For some people, it’s outside, for others it with certain people, and yet for some, it is in the solitude of their own minds. Wherever “home” is, it is apart of you ­ it goes where you go, and it can become any place at any moment with anyone. That’s the essence of home ­ it transcends and it perfection and truth it is own ironic way. Most people associate family with home. For the most part, this assumption can be true; however, it should not be the standard. The standard should be completeness. Home isn’t where the heart it is, it is the heart.
Jared: Where you live. Or where you feel like you belong.
Zach: There are many ways now that I think of describing it. Home is where you have memories, and you feel I guess “at home”, comfortable to be there and live there.
Stacy: Where I feel most comfortable
Mark: Home is where you feel the most comfortable. So if I feel the most comfortable at In-N-Out, In-N-Out is my home.

This, hopefully, will not be another post about motorcycles. Or my addiction to them. I hope. The distance between Bakersfield, Ca and Vacaville, Ca is somewhere in the ballpark of 300 miles. Put into time it equates to about four and one-half hours. Give or take depending how you drive. As I’ve said before, for me, being a bike is unreal. It isn’t like anything else I do. I’m free. I’m able to think clearly.

For those that know me. That truly know me. Know about my ADD. Know about how I fidget. About how I have to occupy my mind. For those who do, you’ll probably understand. Riding a bike isn’t like driving a car. You have to pay attention to much more. You have to be more aware. My mind is more busy while riding a bike than it is while driving a car. Or building a computer. With my mind thinking and not being idle, I’m able to think more clearly. I’m able to think harder.

Driven. What are people driven by. What is the purpose. Of it all? Of life? Of living? Reproducing? Continuing? Existing? Co-existing? What is the reason for it all? These thoughts have plagued my mind for quite sometime and I have not been satisfied with any answer I have been given or I myself have come up with. Nothing has filled the hole, closed the gap, or concealed the crack. I still have this gaping - I don’t know - and it cannot go unanswered [I hope].

I cannot speak for you. I can’t speak for the country. I doubt I can even speak for the general. I speak for myself. I speak from personal experience and the way I am driven. I drive myself. It isn’t religion. It is not the fact that I do what I do, I continue because I’m somehhow striving to be holy (not that I’m not doing that, but that isn’t what ‘drives’ me) and it is what keeps me going. It isn’t religious. It isn’t because I feel it is what I have to do. I don’t continue existing only because its better than non-existance.

What keeps me going. What keeps me active. Why do I continue? Why not give up? Why have a purpose, why be driven?

First, why not? Having purpose is much better than naught.

I live for my own. I have ideas in my head of what I want. Of how I’d like my life to be. Some things specific. Some generalized. There are other things, but I’ll start with wants. I continue, I exist to fulfill my wants. I want to find a nice girl. I want to get married. I want a house with a payment, with a mortgage. I want a kid, or two, or three… I want a cat, or two, or three… This is my biggest drive. I want to be married. I don’t care about my job. I can do anything and be fine as long as my job is half-way interesting. I’ll care more about my wife and what she wants than my own. In other words, if I’m dating a girl, seriously, she graduates college with a job offer in New Jersey, well, I think New Jersey is a fine place to live as well. I’m marketable. I’m not inept. I can find a job, somewhere. McDonald’s is always hiring (haha, just kidding).

Travel. I love to travel. There are so many places I have not seen. Most things I have not seen. I’ve hardly even seen my own country. I want to travel. Preferably with my significant other, if I’m ever fortunate enough to have one. Either way, a friend, a lover, it doesn’t matter that much. I want to travel. I want to see the world. Even if I do not get to, it is my want. It is what drives me.

Smiles. I truly enjoy making others smile. It drives me. Being comedic drives me. I want to see you smile. I enjoy seeing you smile. I love to see you smile. It thrills me more than anything. If I was faced with my ability to make others smile and laugh and be unable to ride a bike or to be the best motorcycle rider in the world and blah blah but not be humorous I wouldn’t even bat an eye. I’d choose humor any day. I would rather see a smile on a face of a loved one than a smile on my own from riding a bike. What drives me most is you. Smile for me and I’m going to want to drive even further.

Boring. Dull. Incomplete, but overthorough. Thanks for reading anyways.

Narcissistic. No matter how hard I try or convince myself I am still narcissistic to some degree. I have yet to meet a body that isn’t, on one level or another, narcissistic. It annoys me that I am. It annoys me that I like to hear about myself. I hate that I continually find ways to talk about myself in conversations. I always can bring the attention to myself. It bugs me, yet I continue to do so. Enough of my rant on that, I’m going to be a bit more egotistical now.

I’ve told many that my life is an open book. It is. Ask me anything. Anything and I will give you an answer. It is like a real book though, a hardback, leather-bound book with pages missing, some stuck together, and a few faded from too much exposure to sunlight.

Am I an open book to anybody? Yes, basically. It wasn’t always so. I used to be shut in. I was homeschooled for six years. I wasn’t used to being around people. I was not used to talking about myself unless somebody seriously tried to delve into my existance. Nobody knew me. I had a lock on the doors of my heart and I wouldn’t allow anybody to know me. It took me three years of high school to realize I had no real friends. To realize that people loved me, but none of them knew me. None of them understood me. The closest people to me had hardly scratched the surface. I spent time and energy on being unpredictable. Trying to not be known. It wasn’t on purpose. It was just how I was until one day a light turned on. I woke up. I realized that nobody knew me. I realized I didn’t want to be like that. I didn’t want to be unknown.

I don’t remember who told me. I can’t place where I heard it, but I know I’ll never forget it. When you open up about yourself. When you share your experiences, you not only open yourself, but you open others. By letting people get close to you, to understand you, to feel you, it subconsciously opens them up to you as well. I want. I desire. I require to be known. I’ve never had somebody that knew me, truly knew me. Nobody does. No, this isn’t my moment of self-pity. It is just something I want and hope to achieve someday. Somebody to truly know me.

I can be intimidating. I can be loud. Many times mistaken as outgoing, extroverted. This sometimes itimidates people and causes them to fear asking me. I do not anger easily. Ask. Just ask and I promise not to be insulted. I will not be insulted or upset as long as you do not get upset if I decline to respond. I don’t have much to hide, but if I do not want to talk about it, I will say so. Straight-forward. I won’t skip around the subject. I’ll let you know I am not comfortable with it.

It isn’t that I so much love talking about myself (not that I have a major problem with it most of the time), but its I love getting to know people. My willingness to be open and blunt allows people to get to know me, which I like, but more-so it allows me to get to know others.

People fascinate me. The way people live. The way people think. The way people go about life on a continual basis. People habits, ideals, and routines. It all intrigues me. A friend wrote this about me,

His mind worked like a… well, a clock whirling so fast that you can’t see the hands anymore. Yet, it keeps spitting out the time as it whirls.

Sanity. I find extreme sanity in this. I know who I am, mostly. I know what I am. I know I am intelligent. I know I am understanding. I know I am different. I doubt though. Sometimes I wonder if my know is actually false and I’m just insane. To have someone tell me this, not just anybody, but somebody who intellectually I admire, it reminds me that I am not crazy. It reminds me I am who I think, say, and act that I am.

I am open. I am willing. I want you to get to know me. I want to get to know you. I dare you. Challenge me. Ask, just ask.

I am human. Just as much as you are. I experience fear. I tremble. I get nervous. My palms get clamy. I sweat. I shake. My mouth gets dry. I stutter. I fear.

Fear of the unknown. Fear of the outcome. Fear of rejection.

I overcome. I prevail. I may not succeed. I may not reach my goal. It matters not. I will try. I will know. I will search. I will receive my answer and be at peace.

Time. Only time.