Nietzsche and the Sleeping Boy

Today is Wednesday. Like every other Wednesday this semester, I woke up bright and early. On Wednesdays, I work from 8:30am to 8pm in the counseling center at school. That's no big deal. I actually love the work. Forget that I don't get paid for it. I love what I do there. The real problem is that this morning, I felt like garbage. I had been up last night stressing about the fact that I'm broke. It happens from time to time. The miracles that I work with my finances start to wear off, and I remember that I don't have two nickles to rub together right now. So I woke up this morning in less than great spirits.

As is the custom on Wednesdays, I wake up early, get myself dressed, take my son to his mother's house. I always hope that he can stay asleep. No need for him to be awake that early. Daddy has to head off to school long before he does. So I pick him up out of bed and carry him to the car. Then I carry him to his mother's door and make my way down the road. This morning, though, as I picked up the 50lb lump of sleeping boy, I began to question myself. Why do I do this to him? I could just let him sleep at his mother's house during the week. He wouldn't complain. I'd have more time to write those papers. I'd have more time to rest my head. I'd probably have more money. I mean, my fellowship pays me just barely more than my child support payment. Some months I don't even break even. Taking on the responsibility of feeding and entertaining the kids during the week, when their mom would gladly do it, is not easy. So why do I fight for more time with them? Why am I not a weekend warrior like so many dads? And why am I in school anyway? Why don't I just go find myself some "regular" job? Why do I chase these big dreams of mine? Why do I spend my every waking moment hustling to build a life for these kids that they never asked for and don't yet understand? Why?

So I picked up my son this morning, like every Wednesday morning. He halfway woke up this time. I only knew it because he said to me, with his head buried in my shoulder, "I love you daddy." I responded, "I love you too buddy." After a second or two of silence, he said, "Daddy, I wouldn't change you for anything."

Nietzsche once said, "He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how." I believe what he meant was that once you figure out what you are living for (why), you can endure any struggle (how). Every now and then I ask myself why it is that I am willing to what I do. In those moments, I look at my babies, and I say, "Oh yeah. That's why."

Getting High on Scales and Arpeggios

I've been playing my horn a bit lately. Not a lot. But, in anticipation of the recording of a new single, I've been getting the rust out. I do this from time to time. When I can't stand the distance anymore, I go back to where I started. Sometimes it takes months. Sometimes its years. But eventually, I always end up sitting around with my horn in my hand like I did when I was twelve. I guess the heart approaches what it yearns. That's what Paul Simon said anyway.

Its funny to me that when I take a break from my trumpet, I always find myself saying I don't need it anymore. I'm not a trumpet player. I'm not a musician. I'm a psychologist now. I'm a photographer. I'm a writer. I've got all these things occupying my time. If I go a few weeks without playing, I start to tell myself that I don't miss it. Of course, deep down, I know its a lie. But I say it anyway. And then something happens and I need to play again. Last time, it was a chance to play with my brother. A few years ago it was a trip to Cuba playing for the troops. Before that it was a friend in town asking me to play for a spoken word performance. Its always something. Someone will call and say, "Can you play for....." I'll object. I'll fight it. I'll refuse. And in the end, I'll relent. I'll spend a few weeks getting my chops in shape, and I'll come out of hiding for a night. I'll play my horn. I'll feel that rush. In that moment, I'll forget that the rest of the world exists. It will be me and my horn and the music. Then I'll walk off stage and put my horn away for a while. Of course, it will hurt for a minute. But I'll get used to it. I always do.

So here I go again. The opportunity has arisen for me to record a song with a relatively well known singer. If all goes well, the song should get a little bit of attention. Certainly more attention than my music has ever gotten in the past. And so here I am, playing again. Practicing. Dreaming. Feeling that rush. Its kinda like getting high, I suppose. The ride is great on the way up. That feeling at the top is like none other. But the whole time, I keep thinking about how much its gonna hurt when I come back down.

Happily Ever After?

I've always liked romantic comedies. Pretty Woman. The Notebook. Those sappy "chick flicks" have always been my favorites. I don't try to hide it. I get plenty of harassment from the guys for it, but I don't mind. Those movies always touch my heart, no matter how silly or cliched they are. I like them anyway. I think the reason I like them is that I'm a romantic. I believe, deep down, that a fairytale love affair can actually happen. You meet a girl and all the sudden everything moves in slow motion. The music starts playing. She smiles. You smile. Its instant.

In today's world, that type of fairytale doesn't make much sense. Happily ever after seems like a by gone notion anymore. People have become a bit skeptical about the idea of fairytale love and soul mates and all that. Try telling your mother that you fell in love yesterday over breakfast and you're likely to get a lukewarm response at best. People just don't believe anymore. But I've always counted myself among the believers.

Still, I wonder why it is that when I find myself smack dab in the middle of my very own fairytale, I can't help but wonder if its real. Maybe because I've had my share of heartbreaks, I can't help but wonder which way this story's gonna turn out. When you watch it on a movie screen, there's really never any doubt. Even when the drama starts and they fight and go their separate ways, you know they'll get back together. When the girl is crying, and the rain is pouring, and the sad song is playing, you just sit with your popcorn and wait for the strings to come in. You know they will. All those twists and turn are only in there to make the ending more fulfilling. Because that's the point. The happily ever after. When it's your life, though, it isn't quite as simple and easy as that.

So here I am in the beginning of my very own romantic comedy. I don't get to sit with my popcorn and watch this one. I've got a part to play. I wonder how this one's gonna end. Somebody cue the strings.