I went to the Naval Academy this morning and have to admit I was quite impressed. The campus was obviously federal, but the location is of course astounding. Downtown Annapolis is a beautiful collegetown with the same space as, say, Chatham, Madison, Summit, and Morristown combined. You've got that same feel, but it's nicer, bigger, more culturally diverse, and with a hell of a lot more midshipmen, a legion of which I could possibly soon become.
We listened to loads of stuff regarding admissions, my Dad and I, and all went really well. I was continually intrigued by the layout of the clubs and activities, not to mention the summer activities which include navigating submarines and battleships, operating leadership positions, traveling far abroad, and executing advanced combat exercises.
What I noticed most about Annapolis is the ways in which it stamps out West Point. West Point is a citadel and a fortress, a prison if you will, while Annapolis is a bit more of an engaged base. If you want to be locked up in the middle of nowhere for a pure, one-dimensional focus on strict discipline and orderly nature, then West Point is the place for you. If you'd rather live in a slightly more loose and cultural zone, Annapolis will treat you much better. Annapolis has some killer seafood, including my first lobster at Mike's Crab House across the South River.
I sincerely enjoyed my stay in the area, with a trip taking me from the rurals and natural reserves of Assateague to the rough and tumble of intellectual Princeton University. Whether swimming through freezing cold Atlantic waters or engaging and getting excited scholarly, this trip is one for the record books. One of the best parts was spending some serious quality time with Dad again, which has been sparse and somewhat gawky in the recent past because of the divorce. New settlements are going to be difficult to adjust to, but I don't want to sever either relationship with either parent. I don't want to cut one off as they cut each other off from one another. It's hard not to be split, but I guess I have to hold out as strong as I can and rely heavily on God, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. Hopefully I can lead Wesley and Cade in the same path, but ultimately it will be up to them.
It sucks when both parent feels they're fighting the good in a good vs. evil type of situation. It presses upon the essence of who I am, the product of their divine union. It just rips me to shreds sometimes, especially when I can't even have a complete picture. The worst part is when Mom says it hasn't even started yet. How much worse is it going to get? How much bad is going to happen until the good comes out? Will there always be a bit of both? Life is a little off.
As a kid, you rely pretty heavily upon the stability of your parents. A father's firm and gentle hand, a mother's tissue (or slap upside the head), a spanky spoon to the bottom or cheek.. these kinds of things give you definition. But when you take these things away from a sixteen year old, a twelve year old, and a seven year old all trying to find their drifts in the world? What happens then? Where do they wind up? Are decisions messed up or distorted? Is their vision of the world confused? Do they come out stronger?
Does it really "work out better for everyone?"
These kinds of things run through my head when I start thinking about it, which is infrequent because I force it to be so. It keeps me up late at night, not because I'm thinking about it hard but because I'm exhausting myself trying not to. I don't have a full enough picture to analyze it.. it's still processing. I mean one side doesn't even give me a hint towards it, the other might give me too much. Are there set boundaries for these types of things or are they just come as they go type of things? You really only get one shot at this.. and it just doesn't make any sense sometimes.
Just about everything in my life I have prior experience with, I mean seriously. School, been doing it for ten-plus years. Family stuff, heck, since I was born! Traveling and moving, as long as I can remember. Church stuff, as long as I can remember! Sports, since kindergarten! All these things continue to build upon themselves.. but a divorce, you don't get to practice it again. You don't get another swing. This ain't no at-bat. You start off with a full count.
Except is a home run even possible?
You've got no stability in your stance if you haven't seen it coming before the pitcher wound up to throw.
You've got no practice either, this ball is coming in unrecognizable trajectory.
You can only adapt and quickly.
Your vision is completely obstructed in some areas.
You can tell how fast it's coming, but never where it's at.
A strikeout seems pretty inevitable.
But how does this translate? Where would I end up if I hit a home run? Home plate? What does that look like? Things back to normal? Back in time? Waiting for it to all happen again?
Where would I end up if I struck out? Back on the bench? Have I been there before? Will it be recognizable in the slightest to me? I'll feel like a xeno- no matter where I land.
So I realize the best game I can play is my own. Forget defense, we'll try to let offense play its course and outscore whatever's going on. Keep up the passing game with church, the running game of school, goal line play with family, play action everything else. I mean, there's really not a perfect analogy for it either. It just doesn't match anything else with life.
IT'S NOT NATURAL.
.. at least, not to me.
I keep playing the game I've practiced all week. I call back on that playbook they call the Holybook. I keep asking my coach what the hell I'm supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be going, why the defense is running how they are. Sometimes I'm getting sacked flattened all over the damn field and we get a turnover! I gotta play a defense I've got no idea how to approach! Do I blitz it full on and get smacked emotionally? Do I play conservative and feel a little apathetic, a little too cautious, a little sociopathic? Psychopathy's on one side.
Sociopathy's on the other.
The middle beam is a slippery, round, pipe.
I can't hang on to it because it's burning hot.
And I just have to do the best I can to keep my balance.
The thing is though, that this isn't football. It's not baseball. It's not even track (do analogies even work with track? I'll have to pay more attention.)
It's like something totally new -- something never before experienced.
I cope the only ways I can.
I pray God works his magic and comes through like he always does.
And I'm sure He will.
However long it takes.
I just have absolutely no clue what that will look like or will it come.
How long do I wait?
How long do I pray?
How long do I work and
How long do I play?
Will business every come?
Will this one day be behind me?
Will we be able to move on, together?
Will I still be me when we're through?
I've seriously got no clue.
And I'm starting to feel a little blue!
A little mouthful, a lot to chew.
Like something you'd get... out of a drive-thru?
Sometimes, I stumble into informal poetry.
It doesn't rhyme, it doesn't matter.
It just flows and looks like art.
The letters a magic trick.
The structure of the lines a movie flick.
Shuttering and flowing, who cares if it's shit?
It's me and it's raw.
It's me and it's uncensored.
I am who I am.
I work towards perfection like Christ.
I don't play no games witcha.
I have my bit of fun, but it ain't no play.
Not looking forward to no payday.
Just giving my all, whatever it's worth.
Until the day I collapse.
And just can't hold it up no more.
Which might not never come.
because if my God is for me,
who could be against me?
One day he'll call me home.
One day it'll all be over.
One day I'll perfectly belong.
One day, I'll never be wrong.
I ramble and I rant.
I give a bit of this and that.
You love or you hate
I love it either way
Just don't give me no lukewarm nonsense
Tell me how it is
If it sucks, perfect
If it's great, make me better
Critical judgment's a man's best friend
A fool flees criticism, sayin' "don't judge!"
One day, we'll all be judged in perfect condition.
And me, I think that's pretty sweet!
'Cause I like justice.
Like the classic Chris Stevens.
I commit grand theft auto I expect some jail time.
Don't let me vote, make me a criminal!
Consistency, please!
Because that's the way life rolls.
And the way I tumble with it.
The way I expect Christ to land me on top.
The hope I have in salvation.
Eternal life makes this segment of life insignificant.
God's sacrifice makes it matter all the more.
The trials will come and pass.
In God's hope I can truly rest.
Peacefully, without a care on my mind.
Not an ounce of strength do I need.
Just a bit of.. drive.
Just a bit of.. faith.
Just a bit of.. sleep.
Just a bit of.. good night.
Always know you are dearly loved
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