Because Exposition Blvd. is not considered part of either the Palms or Culver City but rather the all-encompassing city of Los Angeles for god-knows-what reason.
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| Photo Credit: Aaron Phillips |
For fear of sounding preachy (especially if that has become my status quo), I want to begin with the caveat that despite my worldly, all-encompassing tone at times, my writings really are a very selfish, narrowly-scoped pursuit. Except maybe that graduation post (which still alluded to my own feelings and thoughts) most of my production is a result of personal examination. That's not to say that I don't care about other perspectives or ideas. My writing just serves as necessary catharsis. I care about all of you, but I care more about me.
When I was growing up, one of the things that troubled me the most when playing sports was dealing with failure and/or mistakes. These two ideas ought to be contrasted, as failure to me is more large-scale. Mistakes happen far more often, and when compounded they result in failure. At the age of 25 I have become well versed at dealing with failure, but I still struggle mightily to brush off my mistakes. Especially when I played baseball, striking out was horrifying. I worshiped Tony Gwynn and contact hitters who batted for average and rarely struck out, so when I did so I felt like...I don't even know. It was such a nagging, frustrating occurrence for me that it almost always ruined my focus on the rest of the game. I prided myself on being a great hitter, and in baseball you typically have to wait 20-30 minutes before another opportunity to bat arises, so picture a younger me stewing over a poor approach or attempt for half an hour without a chance to redeem myself. Not a pretty sight.
I can say with 100% certainty that I am not afraid of failure; I've picked myself off the ground (literally and figuratively) more times than I can count. But I still dread making mistakes. Introspection leads me to believe this is because of an obsession with proving myself adequate and worthy as well as yearning to re-do things successfully. Though I consider myself humble, I have not necessarily an absurdly high opinion of myself but rather high expectations. Perhaps I set the bar a little too high, but I'd rather be disappointed and hungry to achieve more than easily satisfied, fat, and happy.
This aversion to making mistakes has carried over into my adult life, and I'm so beyond done with it. I'm making a resolution from this point on -- and I'm not waiting until New Year's because if you want to improve yourself you don't need the calendar to change -- to get rid of that nagging, "woe is me" voice inside of my head. The self-pity is pathetic and counter to everything that I believe in. I'm going to continue making mistakes, and my goal is to reach a point where I don't let it affect my outlook. I want to stay positive and forward-thinking, and dwelling on mistakes and pitying myself negates all progress.
Zane and I talked about stoicism a fair amount over the summer, and one of the ideas I recall is that successful stoics will use adversity as an opportunity for growth; they'll try to find a beneficial side of any instance instead of viewing an obstacle as just that, an obstacle. Far be it from me to anoint myself the patron saint of stoicism, but I feel like I portray that characteristic well enough on the outside. Now is the time to delve deeper and tweak my innermost thoughts and tendencies and chisel down a sculpture that I can be proud of.
Here's to hoping that this contribution is the first in a spree as we approach the holiday season. I'm hellbent on putting more of myself out there (not necessarily in an outgoing sense but more in a productive sense), so I'm going to be setting up a personal SoundCloud to serve as a locus for rough, shitty, trite recordings of songs that I wrote years and years ago. Sometimes I lose touch with my musical side so let's rekindle that fire.
And for those of you waiting on pins and needles to know the musical theme of this post, do yourself a favor and listen to "Falls" by ODESZA. I'm rotating between my three favorite songs off their new album, A Moment Apart, and this one most aptly fits with my current purpose. Also know that your life will not be complete until you have seen them perform live.
Until life strikes again,
When I was growing up, one of the things that troubled me the most when playing sports was dealing with failure and/or mistakes. These two ideas ought to be contrasted, as failure to me is more large-scale. Mistakes happen far more often, and when compounded they result in failure. At the age of 25 I have become well versed at dealing with failure, but I still struggle mightily to brush off my mistakes. Especially when I played baseball, striking out was horrifying. I worshiped Tony Gwynn and contact hitters who batted for average and rarely struck out, so when I did so I felt like...I don't even know. It was such a nagging, frustrating occurrence for me that it almost always ruined my focus on the rest of the game. I prided myself on being a great hitter, and in baseball you typically have to wait 20-30 minutes before another opportunity to bat arises, so picture a younger me stewing over a poor approach or attempt for half an hour without a chance to redeem myself. Not a pretty sight.
I can say with 100% certainty that I am not afraid of failure; I've picked myself off the ground (literally and figuratively) more times than I can count. But I still dread making mistakes. Introspection leads me to believe this is because of an obsession with proving myself adequate and worthy as well as yearning to re-do things successfully. Though I consider myself humble, I have not necessarily an absurdly high opinion of myself but rather high expectations. Perhaps I set the bar a little too high, but I'd rather be disappointed and hungry to achieve more than easily satisfied, fat, and happy.
This aversion to making mistakes has carried over into my adult life, and I'm so beyond done with it. I'm making a resolution from this point on -- and I'm not waiting until New Year's because if you want to improve yourself you don't need the calendar to change -- to get rid of that nagging, "woe is me" voice inside of my head. The self-pity is pathetic and counter to everything that I believe in. I'm going to continue making mistakes, and my goal is to reach a point where I don't let it affect my outlook. I want to stay positive and forward-thinking, and dwelling on mistakes and pitying myself negates all progress.
Zane and I talked about stoicism a fair amount over the summer, and one of the ideas I recall is that successful stoics will use adversity as an opportunity for growth; they'll try to find a beneficial side of any instance instead of viewing an obstacle as just that, an obstacle. Far be it from me to anoint myself the patron saint of stoicism, but I feel like I portray that characteristic well enough on the outside. Now is the time to delve deeper and tweak my innermost thoughts and tendencies and chisel down a sculpture that I can be proud of.
Here's to hoping that this contribution is the first in a spree as we approach the holiday season. I'm hellbent on putting more of myself out there (not necessarily in an outgoing sense but more in a productive sense), so I'm going to be setting up a personal SoundCloud to serve as a locus for rough, shitty, trite recordings of songs that I wrote years and years ago. Sometimes I lose touch with my musical side so let's rekindle that fire.
And for those of you waiting on pins and needles to know the musical theme of this post, do yourself a favor and listen to "Falls" by ODESZA. I'm rotating between my three favorite songs off their new album, A Moment Apart, and this one most aptly fits with my current purpose. Also know that your life will not be complete until you have seen them perform live.
Until life strikes again,
