Reality is a bitter pill, a crashing wind, and a refining fire

It could possibly be said that reality is the mean average of the sum of our perceptions. Sometimes, reality and perception are a ways apart. For five years, I lived in that imitation of reality. To make an example from The Matrix, I didn't take the blue pill. I wasn't ready to face the music but was rather content to live in false pretenses and illogical nonsense. In so many other areas of my life, I embraced the reality, but in my own romantic musings, I guess I never really matured. I never grew out of the adolescent, "Does she like me? I like her." sort of thing.

Tonight, I finally came to the realization that something I had hoped for romantically was never going to happen, and it made me emotionally nauseous. It finally dawned on me that I had wasted a good long time on something that was never real and never came close to being real. In that sense, reality was a bitter pill.

This evening, when being confronted with this reality, I finally presented my alternate "reality" to the person and was met with a harsh response. I was pretty much chastised for misinterpreting intentions and picking a fight. I realized that when false perception meets with reality, it is like two fronts converging, and reality hits with a severe storm complete with a biting wind.

Finally, confrontation with reality is not just a punishing experience. Looking at the big picture for what it is instead of what it might be or could have been is actually an invigorating experience. It is the sort of refining fire that improves the product, so when the work of reality is complete, we are completely transformed into real people living real lives. To end this now, let me close by quoting the refining fire moment inside myself:

"It was this illogical, almost idiotic hope that someday there could have been something though nothing lent to that notion. Even though you pretty much shot me down every time I tried, there was this little feeling inside of me that said, wait it out, because there was something about you that I had never felt before. And you and other people told me that there was someone else out there for me. And tonight for the first time, I fully realize it. So, I say all that to tell you good luck, I really mean it. Thanks to this, I can finally realize that there's something out there for me, and it's a whole lot better than I thought it was."

I am what I am, nothing more, nothing less

I have come to the point in my life where I have realized that I am not invincible. For a good long time, I considered myself to be well-grounded, focused, and deeply philosophical. While those things may be true in varying degrees, the real Jakob Duehr is nothing compared to the Super Jakob Duehr (or the J-Man that I created in elementary school), that I had in my mind. I have learned that there are some things I just can not do.

While we all have the innate capability to cause someone to hate us, whether due to chronic or acute transgressions towards them, an annoying personality trait, or just randomly, we can never make anyone love us. Believe me, I have tried with girl after girl. I became somewhat of a chameleon. I changed to what I thought the girl would like, but it never worked. I finally got to the point where I decided it was time to just be me. Still, even being Jakob Duehr, I could never make anyone love me.

There have been many places in my life in which I was a part of a community for a lengthy period of time. Some places I look back at fondly; others I spit at the memory. I was a part of a youth group for about three years during my early teenage years. No matter what I did, I never fit in. I always felt like an outsider, so I turned inward and really didn't talk. Most people didn't give me the time of day, and to the few that did, it never really developed into a deep friendship. The only redeeming quality was the youth pastor, but he couldn't make them love me. In looking back, for the longest time I wondered what I could've done differently, but I finally realized that I can not make anyone love me, and in that I find some solace.

I can not just do something well because I have the desire. Over the course of time, I've wanted to be WWE Superstar, Actor, Rockstar, NFL Player, and President of the United States without exerting any effort. While I will never, ever tell you not to dream, I thought I could do these things simply because I had the desire. I did not fully understand the meaning of Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I thought of myself as some sort of super human who could do anything. The meaning of that passage does not mean we are innately capable of perfection in any field without hard work. I have come to realize that I'll never accomplish anything of note until I buckle down, get focused, and take care of the everyday things first.

I can not get you to agree with me on every point. Dumbly, I long thought myself to be smarter than most; not in terms of booksmarts, but rather in a philosophical sense. I haven't lived your life; I have just lived mine. I can not tell someone what is right or wrong in gray or unknown areas unless I have lived through that situation. I used to think that if someone thought differently than myself that I could not be their friend. Yet it is respect and a love for the person without necessarily having to contain acceptance of their opinions and/or lifestyles that truly forms a friendship. The world is not going to be full of clone Jakob Duehrs, so I have to do my best to make connections with all the others and show love, compassion, and respect.

Finally, I can not help everyone through each and every problem or trial that he or she is facing. I am usually skilled (knock on wood) at being able to give people the exact advice necessary for them to get through a situation. I have been able to cultivate some deep friendships due to this God-given gift. Tonight, however, I was not able to help a close friend of mine through her bad situation. As much as I believed in her, I was not able to get fully through to her and let her know exactly what to do. And after ending the conversation, I felt really bummed. I felt helpless, and I hurt for my friend. But I finally realized that I don't have all the answers. I never will. There is only one who does, and Jakob Duehr is not that person.

So, there. I am not a lot of things. I am what I am, nothing more, nothing less. And in discovering my weaknesses and fallacies, I think I've made myself a lot stronger.

Moving On

Though I have tried to pass myself off as intellectually deep and philosophical, there are two somewhat simple issues that are probably very easy for others to deal with, yet they disturb me to the core and rattle my very being. For the longest time, I have believed that I am not apt to effectively handle change; nor am I fully equipped to come to terms with reality. Over this absence I have at least made the realization that the struggles I have had with these issues could have easily been deterred.

I have strived for the constants and the traditional; yet the only true constant is change. Now then can I survive in such a paradoxical world? Over my twenty years, I have been extremely fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on your viewpoint) in that I have had to deal with as little change as possible. No close relatives have passed away. I have lived in the same house, in the same room, for twenty years. My core of closest friends has been the same since preschool, pretty much.

Earlier in the summer, my sister brought home a little kitten. A fully healthy kitten, not just something she found on the street, mind you. Save a one day failed experiment with sea monkeys, I had never had a pet before, so I was very apprehensive and downright unhappy. The first day, I was angry at my sister and my parents for making this decision without consulting me. It was because things weren't going to be as they always have been. Guess what? I love that cat. She and I get along very well, and when I have to get up early for work, she waits by the fridge as I pour my milk.

A couple weeks ago, I was faced with the reality that our family was moving. Not very far, mind you, just a few miles to the next town over. However, the idea of change rocked me to the core. My residence at 6502 Parkside Drive (come stalk me, fools... I'm only here two more weeks anyways) was the only place I ever called home. The idea of living anywhere else bothered me, and scared me. It was my perceived inability to deal with change. Guess what? I'm fine with it. The place we are moving to is amazing. Has a lot more room than our current place. Heh, if you're nice to me, I may have you over for dinner.

Now, on to the my slightly skewed perception of reality. There are times in my life where I have viewed to be what actually was more along the lines of what I wished could be. Any time I have failed at something, I haven't been able to man up and come to grips with the fact that I gave my all, and it just wasn't enough. For the longest time, I had myself convinced that I could have been a great basketball player for TPHS, but the problem was strictly in the hands of the coaches. Heh, no. I didn't have the drive or commitment that it would have taken to do so.

For the better part of five years, I had a crush on a girl I met at camp. She was absolutely beautiful (and still is), but we had nothing in common. Anyways, she had an on-again, off-again boyfriend, so things looked doubtful. But I always believed that I would eventually show her what she was missing and how a guy should be. At one point, after three years of good friendship, I laid it all out on the line, told her how I felt about her, and asked her to do the same for me. To my dismay, she really wasn't all that interested in me. But that didn't stop me. I still held out the eternal hope that one day we would be together. I ignored the fact that we had nothing in common, lived two hours apart, and were not really all that compatible.

I spent all that time chasing a dream when the reality was that I never had a chance. If I had kept a more grounded view of reality, I would have spared myself hurt, embarrassment, and looking like an idiot. I always thought I just needed to try a bit harder, but I gave it all I could.

So, the last few months I have truly learned two things: that my perceived fear of change was all in my head, and that my view of reality has been one that has been slightly skewed. Now that I'm moving on and improving by the day, there's no stopping me now.