Wake Up

So, being civilized human beings, I imagine all of us at one time or another have courteously asked the question, "How are you doing?" or "How are things going?"  I like to think that the act of checking someone's blog is akin to asking one of those questions?  As in real life, sometimes all you're looking for is a "good" or "fine" type of response from your blog checkery.  Maybe a quick funny story or a totally radical (yes, you did just read that) video or picture.  And maybe that's the kind of answer you were looking for today.  If so, then here is a link to a pretty amazing video I found the other day.  Enjoy:

http://vimeo.com/22439234

However, if you are looking for a more substantial answer to what has been going on in my life, and how I've been for the last several months then proceed.  Just know, you've been warned:

So, there are not a lot of Mormons up here in the Roaring Fork Valley.  There are even less single, late twenty-something Mormons up here.  Like say... maybe one.  And that one would be me.  Combine that with the fact that the non-mormon social scene up here closely approximates in attitude and activities to that of a college fraternity, and you can probably guess who I spend most of my time with... myself.  And that has been a lot harder than I expected.

I used to always think of myself as something of a "lone wolf."  People are nice to have around sometimes, but I didn't really need them in my life.  At least that's what I used to think.  I used to fantasize about how great it would be to get a cabin deep in the woods, the kind of place where you had to hike to it to get there, and how I would love to go up there and get snowed in for the winter.  I'd read the great works of literature I haven't had time to read yet.  I'd write.  I'd play music, maybe write a few songs, and maybe even pick up painting and drawing again.  And my photography would go to an whole other level as I would regularly spend days at a time snowshoeing into the remotest reaches of the wild just so I can take that one perfect picture.  And upon returning, I'd be like Moses returning from Mount Sinai, complete with grey flecked hair and beard and head bowed under the weight of my accumulated wisdom.

Well, if my last six months of wintery social isolation in the mountains are any indication, I think my time of hermitage would probably go something more like this:  I would get two chapters into East of Eden before abandoning it to become intimately familiar with the plots of 30 Rock, Fringe, and several movies.  I would make a couple half hearted attempts to write a song or try to learn to play something new before deciding to just watch a Mythbusters rerun instead.  I would master every game on my iphone, and probably download and master a couple new ones.  And I would start to run, bike, or hike for a couple of days each month before regressing back into lethargy.   And upon returning, my mind would be as soft and pliable as the ever multiplying folds of my midsection.

I know ladies, try to restrain yourselves.

So, it turns out, I need people in my life after all.  I need them to motivate me to do and to be.  And as much as I'd like to believe that what people think and do in regards to me doesn't matter to me, it actually really does.  And it matters because the apparent alternative to having people in my life is depression and apathy.  I have some serious respect for the shear mental discipline of those buddhist monks.

But I'm still left with the problem of finding people I can relate to and enjoy.  And by that I don't mean to say that I am incapable of being friends with people who aren't Mormons.  I've had good friends that aren't mormon.  I even dated one for a while.  But none of those friendships involved beer pong, dancing on tables, or grinding to Katy Perry songs.

So what do you do when you aren't a partier and everyone else around you is?  Well, I guess you just have to take the "when in Rome" approach.  And by that I don't mean the adage of "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," but rather I am referring to the lesser known adage of "When in Rome, go where the romans are and have fun with them but don't necessarily do everything that they are doing." (I think that one comes down from the Visigoths).

So last night, I followed what was probably the world's first spiritual prompting for a Mormon to go to a kegger.  And I ended up having a really great time.  Throughout the night I had coworkers come up and tell me how happy they were that I had come (happy drunks), and I even had the chance to sit off to the side with some and have meaningful conversations about life, religion, etc (thoughtful drunks).  At one point I even had a coworker, with whom I've developed a good working friendship, come out to me (gay drunk).  Actually that was a pretty big deal and I felt really honored and touched that he felt comfortable and trusted me enough to tell me that, in spite of the tensions between the gay community and my church.  That actually meant a lot to me.

By the end of the evening I came to realize that while I've isolated myself for the last six months these people have wanted to be my friends, and have simply been wondering where I've been.  And what's more, they not only respect my beliefs but they are protective of them.  At one point during the night there were a bunch of us playing a drinking game called flip cup.  I was drinking soda, but everyone else was drinking beer.  When one of my coworkers saw me playing she got really worried and afterward came up to me and said, slightly tipsy herself, "Mark, you shouldn't be drinking!"  Now that's a friend.

Later, as I drove home through the canyon, with my iPod on shuffle, Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" came on.  I rolled down my windows, tasting the cool mountain air, and sang along at the top of my lungs realizing that even though it was close to 1 in the morning (late for me now), this was the most awake I'd felt in a long time.