The Last Post on the Resolutions that I said I wouldn't have

So I guess I've come around on the matter of resolutions. I'd say I'm still keepin' it real and that these are more hopes for the year. This final one is one that I most defienitely should be able to manage: reading.

I used to read all the time. As a child, reading was my primary for of entertaiment, and even as I grew to gain more of those, reading remeained a favorite pass time. I read books well above my level and in copious. The effects were evident in my vocaublary first and foremost and showed in ertain knowldege that I had as well. Of course the more you read the better you write. All of these wonderful positive sideeffects of reading made me want to read that much more,  but aboce all else, I just loved a good story. And though I seldom read anymore, the fact is, I still love a good story. So why did I stop reading?

The first reason is an easy guess: time. I seem to have run out of it since leaving childhood. With age we take on more obligations than most of us probaly bargained for. And each new one seems to take just a little more time than the last. Growing up is some kind of adventure I guess, but sometimes, it's exhausting. By the time I see how much time I have left for the things you would like to do, it's hard to decide which activities will make the cut.

The next factor is the amount of obligatory reading you deal with as you get older. College first and foremost will require more reading than is humanly possible. So I develop a skill for skimming and half-reading that sill takes somewhere near forevier.

Thease two factor combined oftern mean that reading for pleausre seems less pleausurable and more like another task to be completed. Now I find my stories on tv and in movies. And those are great, but they do little for for my mind in the process. Furthermore, they leave little the imagination, whereas reading opens boundless fields for imagination.

This year I want to read more, and I intend to start with the book everyone has been telling me to read (for two years now): The Faulit in Our Stars, by John Green.

Year's End Toast: A Few Thoughts Going Into the New Year

This is not a post containing New Years' optimistic cliches about fresh starts and positive changes that we can make in the coming year. Forget that - well, for a minute anyway. In my experience thus far, those January hopes and dreams that I ring in with the new year seem to wither and die before the year is half over. Of course I could work up my resolve and be diligent enough to carry out the plans I make at the onset of a beautiful bright new year. I could do my best to keep  my annually renewed dreams in tact, shiny and not tarnished by the darker days that will surely be ahead with as much familiarity as the glorious sun-shining days. I just know that no year is without it's hard times and that the second wind we seem to catch on the first of every year rarely carries us all the way through the whole year. I'm not pessimistic, just realistic (well there's a cliche for you).

In that spirit of realism, I commit to this single resolution for the new year: I will let less of my words be unspoken and I will strive to know people more.

I wrapped up the end of the year cleaning my room - the literal nature and the symbolism of that are so much deeper than you know. In the process of doing so, I came across so many letters/cards/notes that I had written and/or started writing  to others, and I was struck by the number of thoughts I had on those sheets of paper which had remained with me rather than going to those whom they were intended for. Those letters were a physical manifestation of even more thoughts inside of me that I had kept to myself which would have been better spent if they were shared.

One of the letters I had written was to the sister of a young man who had passed away this past summer. He had been friends with my sister and especially my brother brother in high school, and we had in fact lived across the street from him for a period of time. I knew of him more than I knew him and it never occurred to me what a shame that was until his passing. He was a beautiful loving soul from what I hear and I will never know more than that. This haunting thought was more of a regret than the letter that I had failed to give to his sister. It is with that bit of heaviness in my heart that I decided to make it my mission to know people better.

I think mine is a large enough resolution to try to carry out over the coming year and I do hope that I will. "Smaller" hopes (which I will not yet call resolutions as my determination does not seem high enough yet) include getting in shape and loosing weight this year, improving my situation in school this semester (that's a whole story in it self), strengthening my current relationships, and getting more deeply rooted in my faith.

As I enter the new year with my realism and my hopes, I also look back on a year in my life that has been unlike any other and I celebrate the person that I have remained - that is of course the best of me, and not the worst, rather than the person that I have yet to become. There is something to be said for remaining true to who you are every year, even as you strive to be a better person, especially in worse times. It is with that sentiment in mind, as well as the recollection of the past year that I have had, that I wrote this short song, titled "Year's End Toast".


My First Fundraiser - an original title, I know

Last night I did some version of managing a fundraiser at Shady's Burger Joint on behalf of ORR. Like many a good experience, it was a learning experience. 

The first lesson I learned was that Murphy's Law is undeniable - if it can go wrong, expect that it will, and know that nothing ever goes entirely according to plan. The sky was cloudy, grey, and threatening rain. The sound system went nuts after wires were somehow rearranged, the chord for the mixer and the piano stand were somehow forgotten at home, the photo booth was barely withstanding the wind, let alone being noticed by customers, and the merchandise table was let pretty much unmanned, as I ran around trying to manage other things. Also, it seemed that no one actually knew what we were there for. It was quite clear that I was in over my head. I had a list and a plan and it all went out the window once we got on site.

Even so, the musicians were quite understanding, working with me through the lack of order and the audience was quite supportive. Several friends came out to support myself or musicians who performed.  One of my little sister's teachers came out to show support and brought clothes to donate. There were a few faces I had not expected to see who came out and really showed support, bringing along friends and clothing. One of our own ORR staff members came out and supported, even handling the merchandise and donations for some time.

The other lesson was that I have to ask for more help - it's something I don't quite do naturally and when I do it, it is with hesitation and reservation. My family was helping me with everything and several of the musicians, some of whom I had been meeting for the very first time, offered to lend a hand. At that point, it was to late to equip them to help me with those items that I would have needed help with.

Of course I could not have accomplished anything without some help. My family helped me with much of the prep - building the photo booth, making the props for it (tedious,work with adorable results) , as well as origami and posters. Family friends lent us sound equipment, one of the musicians brought mic stands and additional mics/equipment,and two of my gifted friends came out to handle photography. Shady's of course allowed us to use their restaurant as a venue and donated 10% of sales from the duration of the event.

Despite the many mishaps that were, it all worked out and came to show the beauty of community - so many people working together to make this happen and so may more supporting the cause. Not every customer who watched our performers chose to donate money or purchase merchandise, but just sticking around to show support meant so much. I brought a large box for clothing and left with more clothes than I could fit into that box. Folks donated money, tipped in favor of the artist or the cause, and came to speak to me to learn more about what we were doing. 

I recognized one woman and her husband from their rsvp on Facebook, who happened to be the parents of a high school classmate of mine. I wanted to stop and tell them that, especially his mom, who's face was like a mirror image of her son's. One couple came to see me towards the end and purchase t-shirts (we didn't have their size). They bought an album (the only sold that evening) and gave the rest of their cash. We talked for sometime and I came to learn that they knew my youngest brother as their daughter had been in class with him. One of them handcrafts guitars (how awesome is that?!) and gave me a few suggestions for how to help the organization and get more familiar with the Dallas music scene. They left me with contact info and some serious encouragement.

On the whole the evening went not according to plan, but well enough to have made an impact. We raised $325 and collected several articles of clothing (I haven't counted them yet). This marked the first of what I hope will be many more Music Night Fundraiser that I will be orchestrating for ORR.

Look out for an update on the clothing count and photos from the event soon!

Imagining Homelessness

When I set out to write a song for ORR’s Homes Campaign this year, I wasn’t sure where to begin. Home means so many different things to so many different people. So I decided I would not write about home, but homelessness, in light of the fact that this was the issue our campaign was addressing

Our Family in New Orleans
Photo by Kate Albers

I wanted my lyrics to reflect the heart and struggle of a homeless person and to speak a message of love and hope to anyone who heard it. I thought about the experiences I had had with homeless people. There was a memory of visiting a shelter with my family for Christmas one year. We made and packaged a lot of cookies to distribute and sang a number of songs. I was in junior high at the time and my siblings were even younger.We lived in New Orleans at the time. I never did forget that experience - the eyes and the gratitude of those people. I regret that I have not done it since. Within a few months or years of that experience, my brother and I were with my father once when he bought a meal for a homeless man. As I recall, it was in a lower income part of downtown. We stopped inside of a Chinese restaurant for his meal. Then my dad sat with him as he ate and we listened to part of his story. I can’t say I recall the story, but I do remember the experience and the large red eyes and worn black hat of that man. There was the memory of spending time with children in the 9th ward on Saturday mornings through a problem at our church called the Sonshine Ministry. They were not exactly homeless but my memory associates them as somewhere close to that. We would play with them, have a brief sort of Bible lesson with them, and leave them with sack lunches. They were beautiful children leading very hard loves from a terribly early start. I can remember them laughing and running with us  and later scrambling in line for a second sack lunch. Last, but not least, soon after I had first moved to Texas my family got involved with group called feed one. Once or twice a month we’d buy and prep hotdogs, chips, and soda cans to distribute to the homeless in downtown, Dallas. The memory of doing that stands out in my mind because the reality of the their situation seemed so undeniable as we handed them their food out there on the streets, in the cold, in the middle of the night. We kept it up for  a while and as we got “busy” we stopped.

Looking back on those memories I realized that in a word, I might consider the homeless to be forgotten. Those of us with homes can so easily ignore them,  judge them, or in the best case, do some kind deed for them and then return to our cozy homes without ever giving them a second thought.

 Weingart, Homeless

Some people perceive that the homeless are and remain homeless because they fail to make the effort to change their situation, the assumption being that the homeless are to blame for their living situation. That may or may not be true in some cases, but certainly not every one. The stories of the men, women, boys, and girls who live without homes are more intricate than one might imagine. Would you believe that some of the those people you see out on the streets are doctors and lawyers?.. Of course before you could believe that you would have to give it thought. And so many of us fail to do so, which is scarcely better than the people who walk by and offer only judgement.

Isaiah 58: 6-8

Who on earth looks out for those who can’t look out for themselves? Who looks at the homeless and offers the promise of a home and unconditional love? Only God, in his good time. That thought is spring from which I wrote the song which is in fact the prayer I imagine I would pray if someday I found myself homeless. That prayer takes into consideration some of God’s promises and the basic needs of man, the struggles of those who do what they can to turn things around and  as well as our desire to be understood at the very least and loved at best.

I drew not only from the memories of those experiences I had of interactions with the homeless, but from my own experiences where I struggled for things I needed, felt judged for situations that I could not change despite my best efforts, and misunderstood or even unloved. The song became very personal for me and I hope that all who hear it are able to relate in some way. Furthermore, I hope, particular for the purpose of this album that it moves listeners to action - that is to do what they can to help someone in need or change someone’s heart or mind about the homeless.

 

Big, small, BIGGER: A bit of Introspection - or something

Alice In Wonderland

I think we all have a general understanding we share of the terms “big” and “small”. Still somehow, I find the terms to be so relative and subjective, as is the case with just about everything, I guess. A big deal for you may be small beans for me, but that doesn't make it any less than what it is to you. Enough riddles and rhymes - what I want to talk about is not big or small, but bigger (and not even smaller).

Sometimes I feel like I sit back and watch everyone around me doing things so much bigger than that which I am. I standby, watch, even support, and silently kick myself for not having been further along in life. Then I remember that while there are many things I could have done differently to have been closer to where it is I want to be, there are also many obstacles and setbacks that I have overcome and deal with still. Surely if God has allowed for all this, when my time comes it will be that much sweeter and purer, supposing that I am in fact going through the refiner’s fire.

All the World’s a Stage  

They say there are no small parts, only small actors. They also say, or rather Shakespeare said, that all the world is a stage. Do these thoughts coincide? If so, I will not be counted as a small actor, no matter how very small my part seems. As I consider and develop who I am and who I would like to be, I try to play my part with grace and meaning that reaches past myself and into that audience referred to as the world. I have loved and pursued communication as a means to do so, building my potential for influence, with a hope not for selfish desires, but selfless needs beyond my own.

In and of myself I have found that to be a trying pursuit with progress that comes in small and seemingly insignificant doses. The impact I make seems so small it seems imperceptible. So I cling to the hope that every cliche about small change making a big difference is true - or at least some of them. Still I feel so small and insufficient.

OneReasonRecordings

So now I come to the notion of “bigger” (finally). Since February of this year I have had a chance to be a part of something bigger in a way that feels impactful to me. I have worked as a campus representative for an organization called OneReasonRecordings. The organization is a non-profit organization that raises funds for social justice issues around the world through music. This year the social justice issue that we are tackling is Homelessness. Through our Homes Campaign, we hope to raise $3,200 to provide a family in need with a new, safe and secure house with sanitation. Additionally we are raising awareness of the issue and working on a related project, a nationwide clothing drive, which I might dare to declare has even gone global. So far we have raised nearly $800 toward our $3200 goal and donated more than 2547 articles of clothing from 54 cities And 10 countries. Sunday evening  we hit a high point in our campaign process as we released this year’s campaign album, “Foundations”. The moment was a proud one for me not just as a member of the organization, but as a contributing artist to the album. I downloaded the album the moment I had a chance and listened to the other 10 artists, whom I had been so curious to hear. After doing so, I felt small again, for just a moment, and marveled at how my song submission could have been chosen to be among these artists who were far more talented than me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

When I shared that sentiment with my friend Paul, he told me “God will continue to put you into situations like this. Where you feel inadequate. That is where He will get the most glory.”

What a beautiful reminder of how small I am indeed and how much bigger that which I am a part of really is.

I've turned that thought over in my head again and again and found without surprise that it applies to every situation in my life. Being a part of ORR’s team and watching the progress we make as we take part in a goal bigger than we are is an experience that I am so grateful to be a part of. Being a part of God’s plan for His glory even with my shortcomings is no small ordeal at all and it’s a privilege I forget to be aware of. I am glad to have been reminded.

In time I believe that my reach, rather than my “role” will be greater, such that I make impactful differences where they are needed and ultimately bring Him glory.

 

Introducing the Journey

My parents tell me that they used to be concerned for me as a small child because I was so trusting that I would run up to complete strangers with open arms and give them wholehearted hugs. I can only imagine, as I seem to have outgrown that personality trait, which I know to be best described as vulnerability.

​First grade me (the oldest photo of me that I have digitally stored at the moment)

How wonderful it must have been to be so fearless and so open to others. What do I have now that I didn't have then? After all  I must have had nothing to lose then, if I could afford to be so trusting. One might that now I have wisdom, but if that is how I define this thing inside of me that causes me to lose the childlike vulnerability that I once had, then the price is too high and I’d like to exchange this “wisdom” for love - or something like it.

I think we get so caught up in the darkness that is the world, that we somehow fail to perceive the light. Perhaps  we have we forgotten that darkness is the absence of light. As a Christian, I am called to be a light in this world, and no amount of darkness should quell my flame. Light comes from and is a source of energy. Love is that energy and I cannot open myself up to give or receive it without vulnerability.

This is the beginning of my journey to reclaim that vulnerability, which is perhaps born of innocence and reborn of grace.

“​Never Meet a Stranger” is a personal mission of mine. My goal is to eventually reach the point where I never meet a stranger; by this I mean that I will not cross paths with another person without acknowledging them.  I will seize every moment and opportunity to establish connection, with the help of a smile and the powerful connectors of listening and storytelling.

I want to journal the experience to encourage like-minded behavior and share beautiful stories.

My challenge to myself today is to have made the first connection and share the first connection by this Wednesday.

​

Lost Treasure Audio Draft

​I recently spoke with someone about a relationship that did not work out, because one person cheated on the other. The one who was cheated on so happens to be a musician currently experiencing writer's block. "Writers block at a time like this?!", I thought. I suggested that he pull an Adele or Taylor Swift and write a breakup song. As it is, he writes music and not (typically) lyrics. So I decided to borrow from his experience and write the breakup song I would write if I had found myself in his situation.

This song is a work in progress and will come to life once I have the input and influence of musicians who have actually experienced breakups and cheating and all that jazz.

LYRICS​

V1

There I was hoping I could lift your soul the way I thought you lifted mine so high

There I was hoping I could fill your cup the way  I thought you filled mine up to overflowing

Little did I know

Did I weigh you down, did I hold you back

Did I drain you ‘till you reached the bottom

No baby that was you

I’d feel the same way too

If my heart was divided, my mind was divided, my time was divided

If I lived with the weight of the secrets you hold and the lies that you told

CHORUS

Did you think I cared to be your burden

Did you think I cared to be a load

No I did not care to be your burden

No I did not care to be a load

Of course I had dreamed that you would carry me

But dreamt I was light as a feather and precious as gold

A treasure to hold

V2

There I was thinking you felt the sun the way  thought it warmed me too

As it was shining down so bright on me when I was with you

There I was thinking

Wherever you were next to me the grass was growing so so green

But you were looking on the other side

Yeah was it greener on the other side

CHORUS

V3

I could never be a burden

I could never be a load

I am as light as a feather, I’m precious as gold

And I know that I know, gotta know I’m a treasure to hold

Clearly you didn’t know

‘Cause once you strike gold

Find treasure of your own

You never let go, no you never let go

And no other glittering sparkling thing can ever compare

to the treasure that you call you own

V4

I am as light as a feather, I’m precious as gold

And I know that I know, gotta know I’m a treasure to hold

Too bad you didn’t know

Cause babe you lost me

Outro (4x)

Cause babe you lost me

You’re never gonna get this treasure back

​

Homeless Prayer Audio Draft

​LYRICS:

V1

There is no warmth for me down here

Not a thing for me, but coldness and fear

I’ve no place to rest my head

All I take with me to bed are my saltless tears

V2

Not a penny to my name

I can’t spare a morsel from this borrowed plate

All my hands hold is this cardboard sign

All the help that it can find brings me back to the same

CHORUS 1

I think of how I used to be

And where it is I’d like to be

I try and try to make a change

The results are all the same

Well clearly this is not my time

but I wish that it were yours

I just want to come home

CHORUS 2

A feast before my enemies

A mansion on the streets of gold

A refuge from these strangers’ eyes

and the judgments that they hold

Only ‘cause they don’t know

Bridge

Not my story

Not my name

Not my shame and not my pain

CHORUS 1, CHORUS 2

Last line

I just wanna come home . . .

​

This is an audio draft of my song submissions for OneReasonRecording's 2013 Homes Campaign.

I tried to imagine what the story of a homeless perosn might be and how I might feel in their shoes.

Are you familiar with ORR (http://1reasonrecordings.org/)?

If not, you should definitely check them out. They are a nonprofit organization run by college students. Each year they choose a social justice issue and collect musician submissions to compile the best of for a CD they sell to raise money (they also sell T-shirts for each campaign).

This year the campaign is to raise money for the homeless:

To submit a song of your own check out this page.