So. Here it is. 27. And I've honestly been too busy to reflect or really even stop to see if I feel any different. Do I? Of course not. Do you ever 'feel' that one day that you breached the cusp between years?
But what I did notice in the months leading up to 27 is that I have felt 'different.' I don't know if it was the slow realization that I'm closer to 30 than I am to 21, or if it was the eerie, weighty feeling of responsibility that all of a sudden my life is not even that much about me. I guess I'll talk about this for a minute--but I think I may have found a key to life, and it's this: life is not about us. I mean in the holistic sense it is, but your life is not really about you, or maybe it is. But at the point when you realize your life has little to do with you, I think the gravity of how precious your life really is and how weighty your responsibilities really are become more real. So obviously, life is not really about me, and for a long time, and really I think many of us in the 'Christian' circles somehow understand this, or at least pretend to have some semblance of this. My life is about my Jesus, yes. But it's also about my wife. It's about my kids--whenever either of these arrive, the latter hopefully way down the road. It's about the name and legacy I'll leave behind--or lack thereof. It's about my family and my people that have come before me and stood long enough and strong enough to give me a ground and shoulders to stand on. All of this is now my life. So I think I mentioned before how my career has slowly started to feel more like a project or endeavor to present to my spouse than it was just a means to an end. And I think that's definitely one of the things I've 'felt' different about being 27.
But this is what I really surprised me: Baseball, John Mayer and Cooking.
So, for a long time these three have been on my bad list. And I think I had valid reasons as to why they were there.
Baseball has a never-ending season. With way too many teams and entirely too many players. Ignore the whole steroid-era where every record will require an asterisk next to it and it's still a boring sport.
I watched an interview one time with John Mayer where he tried some stand up bit about how every girl at every one of his concerts swoons over him and wants to sleep with him and throws their panties on stage-or some pompous non-sense like that. And while I'm sure this holds true to a very sad and pathetic degree, the fact that he would brag and be proud of this on national television, forever and instantly gave him the label John 'Douchebag' Mayer in my book--and from what I understand, in a lot of people's books.
I suck at cooking. And yes, I'll admit, in a somewhat chauvinistic sense, I don't think it's my job. I one time made the argument -I have a weiner. I don't cook. And I somewhat really felt justified.
Here recently however, I've all of a sudden, and by some odd twist of the cosmos, become somewhat to at least a little interested in all three. The first time I realized this was when I was walking through Whole Foods and all of a sudden realized that outside of mineral water, sushi and the sandwich section, I was pretty much clueless as to what the rest of the store held. I felt almost a little embarrassed within myself that this place that I love so much held so much that I was completely oblivious to. I had a random thought -what if one day I picked up a recipe and cooked something? Not for any special occasion, not for anyone in particular, but just simply to say I could and I would. And I did. Last week, I randomly decided I would. On the way home, I stopped at HEB, googled a quick recipe for cinnamon French toast, shopped for cinnamon, vanilla extract and nutmeg (I still don't have a clue what this is) and headed home to make my own eggs, sausage and cinnamon French toast breakfast. Now I know it's not exactly nuclear physics, but I did it. And I was a little proud of myself. Almost felt like I could do this a lot more. And I realistically just might. Again, not for any particular reason, but just for the knowledge that I can. I think next I want to tackle something with fish and mango and maybe something spicy. A friend of mine at work mentioned that he rolls his own sushi, I think that would be something cool to try-and seriously, how many Mexicans do you know that make their own sushi? Enchiladas? Yes. Sushi? Not that many. There was also something fulfilling and probably arrogant to knowing that if I never marry, I don't need a woman to provide anything for me. I could, for all intents and purposes, be a completely self-sustained, self-fulfilled man. Not to say I'm any expert, or that I don't want a gorgeous woman to cook way more than I ever will, but it felt good to know that I'll never NEED a woman to cook for me.
I still think John Mayer is a bit of a doucher. But it's hard to deny talent. And I suppose it's only fair to give credit where credit is due. So if the man has a jacked personal life and his self worth and value come from some deep-seeded void that he overcompensates for with an exaggerated sense of machismo, chauvinism and promiscuity, than so be it. If girls want to swoon and crush on the man, than, who am I to point out that as grown women they're reducing themselves to the idiocy of 12 year olds plastering their bedroom walls with Nsync posters? So I'll let grown women act like idiots and the man do what he does, but I do admire his lyrical sense and musical talent.
And finally, baseball. This one snuck up on me like the first time you realize you're crushing on that girl that you've known forever. I mean we were friends, baseball and me. I would casually catch the highlights on SportsCenter between the real sports like football and UFC. But for the most part I had an apathetic disinterest towards it. Then we went to a Rangers game. And I was genuinely torn about who to root for--Vladimir Guerrero bats for the Rangers, which is awesome. But they were owned by the Bushes, and as a self-respecting man with logic, sense and dignity I can't willfully support anything affiliated with Republican blue-bloods. Then on the other hand the Cubbies are loveable simply because of their losing streak, however they play in the same division as my Astros. The confusion! After I realized the intricacies of the game, I developed a genuine interest in it. I still think it's a bit of a bore, but the talent you have to have to hit a 90+ mph fastball is insane!
So here's the bottom line: if you're not growing as a person, how can you be living? One of my biggest pet-peeves in people is willful ignorance. And I guess somewhere down the line, I realized I had never given these things a fair shake. And like most things, once you're genuinely open to the idea and try it out, you can usually find something in there that's not so bad, if not actually interesting. And isn't this life? Growing, changing, expanding? There are some things I'm an expert in. And I know there are other things I am completely ignorant to. One of the things I always admired about my dad was that regardless of the subject, the situation or the position, he always had a well-informed, articulate reason as to why he felt the way he felt. I would venture to say, he was one of the few people I have ever known worthy of the moniker 'Renaissance Man.' I don't want to die an ignorant man. I want my kids to think I'm a genius, I want to give my kids every single opportunity in life to chase any path they choose, to explore any road they will and know that at some point, I was probably there and I can still guide, counsel and support.
So if there is anything different about me at 27, it's this: I want to explore more, I want to expand more, I want to know more, to be more. And yeah partly for me, but mostly for my life, or rather the life that is not about me, the life I will give to someone, the life I will share with someone. The life I'll give to my kids, nieces and nephews. Because after all, life isn't really about me.
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