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Devotion

Still waters run deep.

My loyalty lies in many directions. I am a U. of Southern Cal Trojan, and shall always be. I am a Davis Blue Devil and shall always be. My friends are a priority. To the profession I have chosen as a career path, I intend to follow wherever it shall lead me. I am a brother of Alpha Rho Chi, and that right shall never be forsaken. My oath(s) for all offices I have held or will hold, all confidences I have been graced with, shall never be broken. These are the spheres in which my life revolve.


I find that this is a quality that can be taught, but from the individual to own it, it must rise and make its presence known to others. How far will I take my devotion? I can only answer I have not lived long enough to have it truely tested.

2001.1118

Reflection on Faith
Reflections on Love
Reflections on Death
An Open Letter to my Brothers

Faith

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight over threw you. She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke you throne, she cut your hair, and from your lips, she drew a 'Hallelujah'.-Rufus Wainwright "Hallejuljah"

Faith is something up until recently I didn't honestly ever question if I had this trait. As a recent discovery, I find myself believing very much in 'blind faith', faith that comes because you have to believe that certain events will occur. This is not to detract from my religion, nor from my belief in the scientific theories.
The case in which I employ most of this blind faith is in regards to my "missing" diploma. After no communication from the academic advisor, I finally sent two letters, one to the academic advisor, because believing that this is his job, to answer my questions with regards to my gradation, and one to the Dean in charge of academic affairs. Granted, my track record with the Dean was not great. In fact, I stayed on 3 more months, deservedly because I had failed to sufficiently prepare my final project. But in the end, he did believe I had figured out the 'game' of academics as it were, or was clearly bored by looking at my work that I was finally given the green light and passed out of my college experience. One thing I know for certain with this Dean, dispite the fact that I was a academic mess as as student, the Dean does know when the school has screwed up. While I have not heard from him since a correspondence a month ago, he has assured me it will be taken care of by the end of this academic term. Subsequently, the problem is not with the school itself, but with a higher authority in regards to some other classes I took.
Now there are people who have encouraged me to, among other things: sue the school, be extremely demanding, play this out for the time being and cannot understand why I've taken the path of least resistance. The diploma and my transcript do mean the world to me. After all, after $150,000 and nearly $40,000 of that in student loans which will follow me for the next 10 years of my life the diploma is the proof that I did achieve something in those five years. But I have faith that this matter will be corrected, I strongly believe the Dean is on my side, and although he has more on his plate than just catering to me, he has done all he can, and will do whatever else he can as the need arises.

I again employ the use of blind faith with regards to my fraternity. On a recent return to trip to the University in search of some serious employment as I am unemployed, I stayed over to watch the proceedings of the fraternity. As an active member, I believed and often said, often told, the catch all phrase "Andronicus will live on." While you're sitting there trying to make decisions, you know that come hell or high water, the fraternity will survive. And sitting there in a meeting where I no longer had the right to voice my opinion, I suddenly felt deprived and cut off. I didn't need a voice, but I sincerely felt that there were principles that were missing when I did have a voice, when I did sweat and worry needlessly. I know deep down the principles are there, and those that have the voice believe in them. I have to convince myself that blind faith will lead them and myself to the answers every time. It's a hard lesson, and the alum before me keep patting me on the head and telling me it's not my chapter. It may not be my chapter, but it sure as hell isn't any easier not to let your heart skip a beat when you don't hear something said correctly, or a bit of history get thrown out because it's in the interest of conserving time.

The first time I had to so suspend my blind faith was actually in a religious service. My confirmation, no less. In the Catholic Church, confirmation is the moment one declares for one's self that they ARE Catholic, that the individual believes in God, Christ, the Spirit, and all the doctrines. It by no means does not prevent the person from questioning faith, that may go on a lifetime, but you pledge before the entire parish that you will and are able of conducting oneself as a good Catholic. Now that defintion does meet up with some serious theological fine tuning, none of which I can actually provide the reader unfortunately. Neither of my parents by definition are Catholic.
To be Catholic, to have been raised Catholic, confirmation is required. Neither of my parents have had this. However, upon my baptism, my mother promised the Church (due to the fact that of my parents she was the least Catholic) that my brother and I would be raised Catholic. We were baptised, had First Communion, and took our First Confessions. And having done the basic first steps, my mother spearheaded the movement to making sure I would complete the basic six sacraments. (I know there is a fundamental flaw in what I just said as there are seven sacraments, but normal expectations are completion of six, the two I have combined are Marriage and Vows, as I view them currently, as the same thing. One you marry a mortal man or woman, the other you marry Christ.) As for my last rites, I'm expected to be on my own for that. Anyway, having been compelled, my mother danced me off to Monday night meetings for religious enlightenment preparing me for the day, two years later when I would be confirmed. Now as I've seen it, the preparation for confirmation is nothing quite like preparation for a Bat Mizvah or a Bar Mitzvah. There's no reading of Latin, or deep understanding of the bible. In fact, in the end, all you have to 'endure' is a three hour church service (as it seems for all sacraments that there is a three hour church service) and say 'I do' and get slathered in Holy Oil. Again, I take liberties with the sacrament. It is a solemn occation. It is a life time commitment, you are stating before God, your peers, family, and friends that you willingly accept God into your life.
At the time, I didn't honestly have a relationship with God. (Again, my liberities, I know I have always had, and avoiding some serious crimes, I will continue to have a relationship with God.) And although the sacrament itself had been explained to me, I wasn't ready. In fact, my parents were more thrilled about it than I was. Which I felt was really odd, but couldn't, and mostly still can't quite verbalize the day. I don't know if anyone else who was confirmed that day felt the same way or even thought about it. Clearly, they will deal with it on their own time. But as for my proof that this day I am a Catholic, I know my prayers, though I rarely pray at all. I haven't been to church since I sponsored a fraternity brother to get confirmed. In fact, the most I have ever been Catholic was when I was away in college, as I was finally able to observe the dietary restrictions during Lent because I was with people who actually practiced. My blind faith led me to where I am today. I know I am not alone, that God in all of His incarnations, is with me.
On the note that I sponsored a fraternity borther to get confirmed. He said I helped push him towards it. And maybe in the same ways my mother did for me, I did shove him a little, but what was encouraging to me what made me feel better, was he took it of his own accord and chose to be confirmed at the time he was. So in that respect, I know I was a better sponsor than I was a confirmee. To this day, without fail, even as the Catholic Church seems to flounder admist the peppering of alleged misconduct, which I do not doubt occured, I still believe in the Holy Catholic Church, that Christ died for our sins, and will come again and the glory and kingdom is now ours forever and ever.
Amen.

Blind Faith doesn't solve problems. It can't feel, it can't even promise that the right answer will be found. As a principle, it provides comfort that the priciples believed in will prevail overall. I have to believe. It's the one source of comfort I allow myself.

2002.0410

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Love

Love takes time to heal when you're hurting so much. Couldn't you see that I was blind to love you. I cannot keep the pain inside 'cause love takes time. And I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here for long. Loosing my mind from this hollow in my heart. Suddenly I'm so incomplete. Lord, tell me how to stop the pain. Tears are falling endlessly.- Mariah Carey "Love Takes Time"
I hold back from everything I really want to say. (Should I let my guard down?) I don't, I don't make commitments that can break. (Baby it's just too late, it's just too late.) This doesn't have to be love, but it's all I can feel. It doesn't have to be anything at all, but why is it so hard to fall from this high above? Wilson Phillips "This Doesn't Have To Be Love"
Then what is this I'm going through tonight? If my heart is lying there, then why am I aching to hold you forever? Give a part of me I thought I'd never give again to someone I could loose? If I'm not in love with you?
It�s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It�s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It�s the one who won�t be taken, who cannot seem to give. And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live. When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long. When you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong. Just remember, in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow. Lies the seed that with the sun�s love, in the spring, becomes the rose. -Bette Midler "The Rose"

This is not even a sampleing of what love is described as. Broken, new, or healing, love has probably been the most fickle of any of my experiences. And I can't honestly say I've ever been in love. I've definately wanted to be in love, and there have been times that I was thoughly convinced I was.

I've definately been given a lot of advice. Mostly, again, blindly faithful, that it'll find me because apparently to date, it sure as hell hasn't found me. I can say at this point in my life I a very tiny part of me still hopes for my last significant other to pull it together, but I know in reality, that this person is better off with out me, as this person does need to pull it together and spend more time healing and dealing with life. All of my crushes, well, they're just crushes, and guess what? I'm over them. (Okay, maybe not so much over my 'screen heroes' crushes, but those are people I've never met, and probably never will meet, so for all purposes, they're quite safe.)

I was once encouraged to make good on my initial crush being reminded fundamentally, that anything worth loving, has to be worth loosing. And as painful as loosing was, it was worth it for those short months. Maybe one day I'll get another chance, with someone else. Until then, love is ellusive, but it's not broken or shattered. But I think I can do without blind love.

2002.0410

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Death

Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on. 'Cause I know I don't belong in heaven. -Eric Clapton "Tears in Heaven"
And if you sing this lullabye, then in your heart they'll always be a part of me. Some day we'll all be gone, but lullabyes go on and on, they never die, that's how you and I will be. -Billy Joel "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Anngel)"
Walk blindly to the light and reach out for His hand. Don't ask any questions and don't try to understand.- Blessed Union of Souls "I Believe"

I was six the first time I went to a funeral. I was fourteen before I understood how fragile life was. Now with this in mind, it's been ten years since Andrew Mockus was killed in Davis.

Ten years.

I'll spare you the details, but it was fueled by three things (according to all reports) firstly he was drunker than a fish, he was high, and the group that actually was convicted of killing him were also in the same conditions. And the lightbulb that went off in the person who pushed him into the train wasn't exactly the brightest of the bunch.

His death taught me a lot about human nature. I will never walk into a room of angry parents. I will never buy someone I don't know a beer or any drink for that matter. And finally, some people can be 'corrected' and others, their fathers will bail them out only to crumble when their kid screws up again.

Andrew's death sparked a fury in Davis the kind that had never been seen, a least not since the time a student was killed on the DHS campus itself. I went to an open PTA meeting with my mother because the Student Council, which I had been a part of at the time had planned on being there. My mother didn't really want any part of the meeting, but went along out of curiosity. Seeking refuge among the other Student Council members at one far table, I sat waiting for the meeting to start. When the PTA President got wind of this, she thought it would be 'wonderful' if we were broken up and a voice at every group of tables. My mentor and teacher at the time did mention to me in passing as I was transplanted that I would have been probably more successful if the student council hadn't broken up. But in my table of twenty some odd parents while reminded that "Whenever you point one finger, there are three others pointing back at you." the rabid parents squelched my movements to moderation. I ended up shutting one of them up because he insisted that detention should be "pure hell lead on a Saturday by a Marine Drill Sergent." I rebuttled after fustration of hearing him repeat himself five or six times by asking him "So you don't discipline your kids and you want someone else to watch your kids? Send them to boarding school it will be cheaper." No one solved anything or could brain storm for the given topic-preventing this, Andrew's death, from happening again. And the subsequent meetings, I never returned.

The rabid desires played out a year later, as I knew they would. It's all but swept under the rug, and so many new people live in Davis, no one understands the shrine by the railroad tracks, or the the grove of redwood trees planted in Andrew's memory. Just those who were involved in his life. As I was never in that circle, I'll never have the grief, or question the robbery of a boy's life.

Life happens.

And subsequently, so does death. It's tragic to someone so young, expected to someone much older. You do what you have to do to protect the kids, to watch them grow up. But I find truth in the fact that if you loose one every now and then, you have a new appreciation for why they're so precious in the first place. I don't advocate killing of kids by any means. Pedophiles and the like should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law without a second thought. But it's ironic that it always takes a loss to realize how precious something really is.

2002.05.1

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