Lessons from a Vagabond

A thought just occurred to me. I dont want to be perfect.

Growing up, I was the mama’s boy. The goody two shoes. The tattle tale, I’ll admit it. I did everything the “right” way and kept the “wrong” at bay. Later in life this trasformed into another extreme of taking one enormous risk after another. Do I regret them? Hell to the mutha fuckin’ no! From the vantage point of one extreme or another, I have seemed to always strived to be what I thought I should be. Now, I just want to be.

The moments of clarity, bliss, joy, and peace where I was most open to love, growth, and life’s offerings, I was not trying to be something better, nicer, or more attractive. I was just being me.

What happened to make me think that I was somehow in need of improvement? Actually, wait. I think I know the answer to that. Goddamn, this shit is so obvious.

“Dear Tyler,

Thanks for applying at Examiner.com. We have reviewed your information and believe you would make an excellent LA Cultural Travel Examiner”

It’s all coming together…

I applied yesterday and already heard back. They even gave me a new title - “LA Cultural Travel Examiner.” Fucking AWESOME!

(More to come)

A friend recently asked me how I was doing. Due to my proclivity toward brutal honesty, I have been taking a deep breath in before levying my listener with a bevy of ups and down.

This time my answer was different and I thought I would post it for safe keeping:

God, you know how updates with me go. If it werent for the coupla beers Ive had I may write for hours and hours.

Ive been great though! Graduated from college and finally feeling the liberation of a life without the constraints of academia. Im not going to be going to travel abroad this summer - there was a whole drama associated with that, but I wont get into that. Thats just negative energy that Im glad to be done with. Im actually happy to stay in one place for a while.

Also, I finally got a fucking job! I’m a summer camp counselor. The kids I work with are sooooo cute. Just adorable! Of course I have my favorites. We can learn so much from kids and I cant be happier to be getting paid to just have fun with kids all day.

What else… Ive been doing a lot of yoga, getting really spiritually fulfilled just with friends and really getting back to MYSELF. Having more self compassion and getting my creative voice back have been my paramount concerns lately.

Ooh! Im also going to Burning Man! Soooo fucking psyched about that. And on my list of summer goals is to learn the guitar and start learning song writing. Feeling fucking fantastic!

Nice little change of pace - and open to more.

While on the topic… how are YOU doing?

Now that Ive had the chance to get some rest, Im starting to re-appreciate going (all) out.

Nature walks, long talks - you’ll always have a place in my heart. But throwin a couple back with friends new and old and actin’ a fool (responsibly, of course): welcome back.

Driving in my car this morning I was listening to Michael Jackson’s surviving body of work. I tapped into the many other people in the world who were on their way to work, school, or running an errand hearing the same songs that shaped their lives over his decades as a recording artist. The feeling was staggering.

Music can be one of the highest forms of art. It breathes with life, inhabiting the words and sounds of its maker to influence the actions and thoughts of others. Each song animates what is typically stagnant. A guitar or piano doesnt move the soul until we are bold enough to accept what is stirring within us. The comfort of the familiar recesses of our hearts and minds cannot do what the pluck of a string or the tap of a key can summon. It takes courage to create, any artist can tell you that. To own that is beautiful. To represent yourself - your demons, your memories, your life’s experiences - makes you vulnerable, but that vulnerability is also our strength and demonstrates the endurance of the pursuit as we evolve each day.

To inspire someone is the closest we can get to the divine. With a scribble on a scroll of paper or the pluck, tap, or a carnal scream we can share who we are and connect to something deeper than those familiar recesses of our minds: freedom.

Artistic endeavor and creation comes from a place that is pure. Just as some are bold enough to truly live, we must also be brave enough to inspire and lead, and we’ll survive long after our bodies are gone.

7, 8 and 9 yr olds can say some funny ass shit.

Student: What if I just exploded?

Me: Aw, well what would your parents say?

Student: Hmm… they’d prolly all kill themselves. Er maybe not. I dont know.

“She used to be Christian but now she’s Jewish.”

- student talking about her new imported puppy Ariel

“It’s so peaceful over here.”

- student laying under the sun while others play in the pool

“I dont wanna dance, can I just roll my eyes instead?”

Probably one of the best weekends Ive had a in a long time.

Partying for Chad’s going away party in West Hollywood - good times, good vibes, good friends, good drinks.

And a sweat lodge in the Santa Monica Mountains - picturesque, transcendental clarity and beauty.

Both, exactly what I needed. That, and the awesome sleep Im about to have. On a bed. :)

One of the highlights: Meeting Ann. After talking to her for a short while, she said how lucky she was to have met me. When I left the sweat lodge after the first chamber/prayer I told her my head was throbbing in pain and that I was epileptic. She said, “Take care of yourself, Tyler. We want you here.”

(You know, sometimes these things are pretty obvious once spoken, but goddamn if theyre forgotten pretty easily.)

Keeping it simple, ladies and gentlemen.

That’s all for now.

Angelina Jolie, c/o Anderson Cooper, just reminded me, “we need to be grateful for what we have.” Like perfect lips, hair like satin, and overly affectionate brothers.

My friend Alex says “The difference is money.” Too true.

Did I mention that today I got a job?

Im on my way, bitches!

Here’s the problem with International Development. It makes one feel theres a limit to what one can do. We are all human. You know how they say in marketing that sex sells? Well, in development suffering sells. The suffering of others is supposed to inspire. There’s something wrong with that, right? Yeah. There is.

Now when I look at the word “youth” or “development” or “global” I can feel the prick of my ivory towers reminding me with theory after theory of a distinct paradox: hope is essential, but there is none. How can you not feel hopeless when your happiness comes from an A on a quiz about the unhappiness of others? When you think that thats enough is when you should drop the fuck out. I didnt drop out. And now all I know is that we’re all studying life when we should be experiencing life.

The expected career path for me, an International Development Studies major, is to apply to Non profit and non governmental organizations. I think that NGOs and NPOs are wonderful. I’ve worked and volunteered for them and felt the rush of accomplishment and the satisfaction of helping people and engaging in a dialogue with those in need. But I dont see the men, women, and children as people I am helping. They are helping me, not the other way around. They are helping me to see myself and see my own potential materialized. Do I want to “save” anyone? The answer is no. I am no one’s savior. I dont know what it means to be a hero, and I dont care to know. The only thing I can fight for is myself.

But do I want to fight? No. I’m tired of it. I want to love, learn, create, inspire, aspire, and accept what comes along in the ever evolving beast that is life. And I dont want to hold anything back. Good or bad. Or maybe Im just tired of evolving. Maybe I just want to stop. Just for a minute to recharge.

(That sounds like it would get old fast.)

When was I at my height? Rome. Without a single doubt, Rome. Surrounded by people from diverse backgrounds, coming together to share a common sense of adventure and passion for life. This was when passion for life was not somehow unrealistic, but necessary. But can that continue? Today, three years later, I feel the need to see an end result. To see a payoff to what I’ve done and what I do. Although I appreciate what and who I have in my life, I guess I just feel I deserve more. More, just to make up for what I no longer have.

So, what is “more”?
- space and time to be creative at will
- having a forum to share my creativity and inspire others
- love without questioning if what Im doing or saying it “right” or “smart”
- see and feel the results of my efforts

Wow. Ok. So I feel a sense of entitlement. Great. How patriotic.
The only way to solve this is just forget about the lack of hope, the lack of Rome, and the lack of creative space… and just do.

Or just accept things as they are.

I dont know.

If I could pick one I would be writing this, would I?

(Sometimes I cant believe I share shit like this - but most of the time I just cant help it.)