If Walls Could Talk (Maybe They Do)

Interior design isn't really my thing.

If someone were to look around my room, much less my house, one would probably think they walked into an explosion of random hobbies and taste. If a Jack of All Trades had a room, it would probably be mine. In one corner sits a bass guitar with a skateboard hanging above it. On another wall sits a drum set, and on another wall, next to the bed, sits a computer desk desk with an old baseball glove hanging above it. The walls have flags, maps and portraits hanging from them, and there are three windows taking up the rest of the space. Honestly, there's no particular theme or consistency, and several of my friends have let me know that. (My office at work is worse, with glow stars hanging on the walls, making it the least professional office in the building)

It's interesting how sometimes (in my case especially) walls reflect bits and pieces of ourselves. It's been that way since we were kids. Where we once hung pictures of our favorite sports teams, favorite characters and favorite celebrities, we now hang bits and pieces of our new interests, whether it be photos of family and friends, works of art from hobbies or memorabilia from days long gone. Either way, our walls seem to talk and tell stories of who we are and what we're like.

If you could hear my walls talk, I'm sure they would have some interesting stories about the things hanging from them. The skateboard wall would probably say it has a skateboard hanging from it that was bought out of wanting to learn to skateboard to be 'cool' like the other kids. The wall with the map on it would probably say it has a map on it because of wanting to look 'well traveled.' I'm not sure what the wall with the flags would say, but probably something along the lines of wanting to feel like an All-American man, but not so much because of wanting to be patriotic. Forreal' though, my walls would probably be more honest with you about me than I would be about me. They've seen me at my lowest and highest points, and they reflect my aspirations and the 'who I want to be.'

My walls are probably a lot like your walls, because I bet your walls do the same thing. Of course, they reveal different things than my walls, but they definitely talk. When's the last time you stopped to listen/look at them? They may reveal something about yourself that you have never even realized.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Walls can talk. 

Profile: The Selfless Worker

It's 9:09 p.m. on a Tuesday night, and my roommate, Mason, is currently blaring John Denver's 'Thank God I'm a Country Boy' in the bathroom as he gives his pet Border Collie, Murray, a bath in our bathtub. 

There are a couple of things about this whole scenario that crack me up- 1) that Mason listens to John Denver like a son would listen to his father's last words and 2) that Mason chooses this time of day to give his dog a bath after I know that he's had a long day at work; however, this kind of work ethic is something I love about my roommate and something that I've learned from him- selfless work doesn't always stop after the work day.

There have been a lot of examples in my life of hard workers working after the 'work day' is through, for example, my parents; however, at the time I was living with my parents, i was an adolescent who didn't know the value of hard work or all the hard work they put in to make life as easy as it seemed. However, now that I'm old enough to be living on my own in a house that takes work to run, I've learned to see the value of hard work after working hours, and my roommate is a prime example of that.

Mason is a producer at a news station and works crazy, countless hours, and then he shows up at home some time around 7 p.m. and goes to work again, taking care of his dog, meeting its needs, making dinner, doing side graphic design projects for people and so much more, and at the heart of it all, I've picked up that the art to working hard after working hours is being a selfless worker. It's about serving others first (even those others are pets) and being tired at the end of the day. I guarantee there's not one weekday night Mason goes to bed when he's not exhausted, if not just mentally, but physically as well. He's an example of selfless worker, and he's someone I can learn from in that department. 

A key to growing up and being ready to have a family is being a selfless worker, ready to serve rather than be served, and I'm fortunate enough to live with a roommate who's a prime example of that. It isn't easy, and it's the opposite of lazy, but being a selfless worker and a selfless servant is at the heart of growing up into a man.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: A selfless worker is a selfless servant. 

Depression's Best Friends

It sucks when you have free tickets to a concert and no one has the time to go with you. It also sucks when you have plans with someone, and they forget about them and you're left hanging out to dry. It sucks even worse when these things reoccur within the same week more than three times and reoccur on the same day. They're instances that can leave you feeling unwanted, unsure and unhappy, and they're instances that can lead to three unique feelings:

Doubt. Loneliness. And depression.

These are the three words that I've been feeling lately in my spirit, and quite frankly, feeling heavily for the first time in my life. I've never struggled much with doubt, loneliness or depression, but lately, I've felt a lot more like Eeyore and a lot less like Tigger. 

Inside me, there's something that says struggling with doubt and loneliness aren't real issues. It's a voice that says, "You're not really feeling these things because only weak people struggle with these things." I listen to that voice a lot. I ignore the symptoms I'm truly feeling based on how I think I should be feeling. The symptoms of loneliness and doubt go hand in hand with the negative term needy, and the last thing anyone wants to feel is needy; however, loneliness and doubt are real feelings that can't be ignored, and so far I've found out that often times these two feelings lead to the deeper feeling of depression.

There's a truth behind all of humanity, and that truth is that we all want to feel wanted. We all want to feel valued, and we all want to feel purpose. When we're 'wanted' (not like an arrest warrant 'wanted'), we don't feel lonely, and we don't feel doubt about what we're doing in life. When people value our presence, we begin to feel purposeful in our work and accepted for who we are- two things that begin to erase both doubt and loneliness. 

Another truth is that people have struggled with wanting to feel valued and accepted for thousands of years; I read about it today in a book that was written thousands of years ago when people from Israel wanted so desperately to feel valued by someone that they were demanding to have a king so they would have someone to reign over them and give them purpose. They wanted to feel valuable, and they wanted to feel wanted.

You and I are the same way still today. We want to be wanted and wanted so much so that we'll chase after anything and everything to 'reign' over us. We look for value in friendships, relationships, jobs, money and so much more. We all struggle with doubt, loneliness and depression at times, and when we try to ignore those feelings and listen to the voice that says we're 'needy', we find ourselves trying to combat those feelings with anything that will let us feel meaning. So far, everything I've tried has let me down; people, money and work all have. But there's one thing that hasn't- it's the hope I have in knowing that there's eternity after this sometimes doubtful, lonely and depressing life. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Even though you may feel lonely in feeling lonely, doubtful and depressed, you're not alone in it. 

Reflections: Made Too Pretty

The other day, I was standing in front of the mirror looking at my reflection. I wasn't really doing anything; I was just standing, looking at myself and admiring my new haircut and all the ways I could wear it differently. I must have stood there for ten or fifteen minutes before I'd realized it'd been ten or fifteen minutes, and I stopped (not because I wanted too, but because I felt like a girl). Then, the question crossed my mind that I've been asked before but haven't ever answered:

Were we made too pretty?

Sometimes, it sure does seem like it. 

How many times I day do I look at myself in the mirror? Whether it's to fix my hair, check to see if I have something in my teeth or look and see if I have any new pimples, I frequent the mirror more than a 20-something-year-old frequents their Facebook page while driving, which is a lot. I even admit to making sure I get a side glance at myself if I pass by a large window so I can catch my reflection in it to make sure I'm looking from head to toe while I'm walking- and to know what I look like to the other people around me. Honestly, it's pretty vain. 

The question, "Were we made too pretty?" is actually a question I heard from a song called, 'Made too Pretty" (makes sense for the title, right?). It's a song that doesn't question the belief that we were made in God's image, and it doesn't state that beauty God bestowed on and in His creation is wrong; it's a song that questions the idea of humans turing themselves into gods, and I think that's a good question to ask.

So often, as the song says, "we're caught up in a stare we cannot break," or at least I am anyway. We spend so much time in front of mirrors fixing ourselves and staring at ourselves and spend so much time taking selfies and staring at pictures that ourselves that I believe our vain-ness can sometimes become and idol and a god. We stare at our reflections and see what's on the surface- but how often do we stop and stare at what's below the surface?

If I took the time to self examine my soul as much as I take the time to self examine my surface, I think I'd be better off. If we all took the time to look at what's on the inside as much as what's on the outside, I think we would find that we really may have been made too pretty in such a way that our outside generally doesn't reflect the mess that we all are on the inside. 

We're all messy people, maybe not always on the outside, but always on the inside. There is always something our hearts are in need of help with, and we can't edit it out or put a filter over it to mask it. That's what grace is for. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Were you made too pretty?

Behind Closed Doors

A swinging door is a shutting door, and a shutting door is barrier to the world behind it. 

What happens behind closed doors stays (for the most part) behind closed doors. Doors can provide seclusion, secrecy and silence, and they can allow us to go into our own private place, away from the world behind it. 

Last weekend, I spent an entire day behind closed doors. I woke up and didn't leave my house the entire day. In fact, I barely left my room. I got up, took a shower, and binge watched House of Cards on Netflix. I stayed in my pajamas, ate food in bed and didn't care to see the light of day. I was comfortable, and no one could see how comfortable I was, and frankly, I was perfectly happy with that.

There's something about being behind closed doors and lazy like that all day that made me feel embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to see how lazy I was being or how much of a cliche 'couch potato' I looked like- in short, I was thankful for my door, but by the end of the day, I was also depressed.

This isn't the only time I've felt this way. I've noticed in a lot of my 'behind closed doors' experiences that I wind up depressed- depressed and embarrassed. Any time I choose to spend a day hiding from the outside world, nothing productive ever happens and nothing I'd ever be proud of happens. Sure, there are times to shut the door and be alone to recharge, connect spiritually or just to get away; however, too much time behind closed doors and being behind closed doors doing the wrong ways breeds secrecy and seclusion-two things that, alone, aren't always the most healthy. 

Close the door when needed, but open it and let some fresh air in at least once a day. See the sun and let it drive out the darkness that closed doors withhold. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: A swinging door is a shutting door, and a shutting door is barrier to the world behind it. 

The Struggle is Real

Have you ever watched someone struggle? It's a real thing. You can watch it, and when you watch it you can feel it. Real struggle is a real display; Yes, it can be masked, but at some point, the struggle shows itself and becomes visible to the eye.

Struggle displays itself in many forms and fashions. It shows on the physical side of a person through facial expressions and tiredness, and it also shows itself on the emotional side of a person in attitude and being. Essentially, if the struggle is real enough, it takes over a person, in a sense in some form or fashion, and it hurts to watch. 

I'm writing about the not-so-happy topic of struggle because today I watched my friend struggle-more physically than emotionally, but what I noticed was eventually, the physical struggle lead to an emotional struggle, just as I know emotional struggle can lead to physical struggle. Today, my friend took a bad fall snowboarding and fractured a bone. In his case, the physically struggle was real- watching him try to come down off the mountain, climb in the car and climb up the steps to the doctors office was painful for me to endure, so I can't imagine how he felt. It was interesting too to see how the physical struggle began to manifest itself in the visible, emotional struggle of frustration and confusion, as well. 

Struggle can be as visible and simple as a fractured bone (not that a fractured bone is simple), and it can be as invisible and complex as suicidal thoughts. Whatever the case and whatever the degree, struggle is real, and to watch struggle is hard; however, what is harder than watching struggle is watching someone struggle alone, so don't. When you see struggle, help, and when struggling goes on display and the person is struggling alone, be a friend. Struggle is real, and we all go through it, but we don't have to go at it alone.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: The struggle is real. 

Dirty Sweaty Hands

When I was in second grade, I remember coming in from recess one afternoon and having to write down a couple of sentences about a video we had been watching. My hands were so sweaty, I literally ruined the paper I was writing on and smudged all the penciled-in writing that I'd worked so hard to write on the paper.

This is the first memory I have of noticing myself that something was wrong with my hands.

When I got a little bit older, several more ruined pieces of writing later, I remember being at church one Sunday evening. It was during the first part of the service, the greeting part of the service, that I remember shaking hands with a girl sitting near me and her saying, "Ew, why are your hands so sweaty? That's gross."

This is the first memory I have of someone else noticing that something was wrong with my hands.

Sadly, both of these memories are memories that have shaped the way I've lived ever since.

Every since others realizing and realizing myself that I have 'dirty sweaty hands' (and feet), it's been the most self-conscience driving force in my life. Holding a girl's hand is a rarity for me. I never wear flip flops. I write papers with a 'paper barrier' between my hand and the paper being written on. I don't like participating in social situations where I have to meet new people. I only hold hands in prayer if I'm forced to, and probably one of the biggest extremes I go to to avoid hand to hand combat- I purposely 'go to the bathroom' during the meet and greet time at church each Sunday because I know I'll have to shake hands.

That's what happened to me when I let the voice in my head and the voice of someone else tell me I was gross; I let those voices write huge chunks of the narrative of my life, but now, I want to change that narrative. 

I have spent the entirety of my life re-writing who I am. I'm an extravert that's scared to be an extravert because of something that I can't help about myself, and I'm a person who loves meeting people but that's been scared to meet people. Essentially, a big chunk of my story has been yet to be told correctly because of fear and because I've listened to the voices inside my head that are lying to me and the voices of others and what I think others will think. 

Just as Adam and Eve replaced the voice of God with the voice of another in Genesis, I have replaced the voice of God telling me who I am with the voice of others telling me who I am, and it's time for that to change. It's time to listen to who He says we are, not who the world says we are. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: We all have our 'sweaty hand' issue. That doesn't define us. 

One of Life's 'Aha!' Moments

You know those moments when you feel like you don't totally understand something to its complete extent, but then you all of a sudden just 'get it?' It would be like in school when you were trying to learn the steps to solve a certain type of math equation- you could follow it when the teacher was going over it, but not on your own, until suddenly, the teacher says something or does something, and it all just clicks. It's an "Aha!" moment- a moment when reason and understanding meet and knowledge lights up the imaginary light bulb above our head that's been flickering on and off.

'Aha!' moments are great. They can do anything from turning a semester's worth of study frustration around to turning around a hard season of faith. Today, I had one of these 'Aha!' moments, and it was easily a day maker. Frankly, it was over a faith topic that I'd never even realized I struggled with understanding, but now that I do understand it a bit more, my imaginary light bulb lit up, and I can't stop thinking about it.

The Old Testament has always had its mysteries to me, as it was a part of the Bible that I've never studied or read much, aside from the classic stories like Creation, Jonah or Daniel and the lions den. One of the biggest mysteries to me was the mystery and the symbolism of the tabernacle and the temple and their role in the Jewish/Christian faith, and it wasn't until today that one of my mentors explained to me over a cup of coffee what their role really symbolized.

The tabernacle and temple of the Old Testament directly symbolize the original Garden of Eden (mind blown). 

I still don't know all of the details and all of the correlations, but essentially, I learned that God had the people of Israel construct the Tabernacle as a place for Him to dwell that was Holy and Perfect- a mini Heaven on Earth, if you will, just like the Garden of Eden was. Just like in the Garden, the entrance to the temple was at the East and guarded by  a flame. The temple also had a similar layout symbolically to the Garden of Eden, as the inner most part of the temple was the Holy of Holies, and the inner most part of the Garden was the Tree of Life and Tree of Good and Evil. God dwelt in the tabernacle and temple, just as God dwelt and walked in the Garden with Adam and Eve. It was like God's celestial palace was on earth temporarily, and two humans got to dwell there with Him. Pretty sweet.

Again, I don't  know all the details or all the theology, and I may have messed up some of what was said above, but still. Think about how cool that is that God modeled His temple after His Heaven on Earth. It blows my mind, and I hope it does yours.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Don't miss the 'Aha!' moments.

When Expectations Don't Go Your Way

Have you ever gone on a a trip to Wal-Mart that you expected to only take 10 minutes, but instead it took you 45 minutes? (because Wal-Mart) Or have you ever gone into a store thinking, "I'm only going to spend $x amount of money," but instead you end up spending $xxx amount of money? Or what about hobbies- Have you ever tried to learn some new skill that ended up taking longer to learn than you initially expected? In each of these situations, or any situation like them, reality doesn't coincide with our expectations, and as a result, our emotions run in all sorts of ways, but at the core of it all sits the emotion of frustration. 

Yesterday, I went on what turned out to be a 6-mile hike. It wasn't initially supposed to be a 10-mile hike (it started out in my mind as a simple 'nature walk'), but, like the situations stated above, my expectations didn't coincide with reality. After not reading the trail map correctly, my thought of a short, 30-minute hike with my camera wearing in jeans, Chuck Taylor's turned into a full afternoon of trekking across Greenleaf State Park looking for the infamous 'Swinging Bridge,' which, I did eventually get to-3 miles further than I thought. 

I was hot, frustrated and at times, lost. I even caught myself saying out loud to myself, "I wish there were just some place closer to park so I could've driven here," which, if you know me, is very unlike me to say; however, my expectations weren't being met, and I was worried as to whether or not I was going to make it back to my car before nightfall. 

In the end, I made the hike, saw the bridge I was looking for (which was totally worth it), and I made it back to my truck before dark safely. I was satisfied with how things turned out, but I was also really confused by the comment I'd made to myself earlier and just how unlike myself I'd become when my expectations weren't met and frustration took over-especially on an adventure like a hike. It's evidence though to just how unlike ourselves we can become when selfish gets its grip and takes over our personality for a moment. Comments come out we don't mean, and we miss out on the adventure at hand. 

When life throws you a curve ball, don't duck out of the way or get made that it wasn't the pitch you were expecting. Adjust to it, stay in the box and take a swing ( pun intended on the bridge) because some of life's greatest memories are made when life doesn't go how you expect it to. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: If you want to hike the Greenleaf Lake Hiking Trail, plan for a full-day's worth of activity. Looks are deceiving on their map. 

The Art of Creating

This morning, I woke up, and I made some eggs. Then, at work, I created some ad designs for an upcoming event, and then later on in the evening, I made a fire. It was a day of making things and creativity, and it isn't until I go a while without one of these days that I realize how important the creative process is to me and my day to day life.

There's something to be said for creating something. It becomes your own- your masterpiece (even if it doesn't look like one, kinda like my eggs this morning). You can create anything from food to art; whatever it may be, it's still part of the creative realm, and that in itself is just cool. You don't have to be Bobby Flay or Vincent Van Gogh to be a creator or an artist. You can be anyone. 

Being creative is about making something that's yours that everyone else may or may not understand. No one else may like it, and no one else may find any point behind it, but with creation, that isn't always the point. The point of creating is about making something that was once an idea or a thought and making it a reality. It's bits and pieces of yourself and your mind coming out in various forms to create your simplest or your wildest dreams. It can be a process as short and sweet as mixing up random ingredients to create a new food dish, or something as complex as writing a symphony. 

Creativity has no bounds, and it has no simplicity; it's something as easy and unique that a 3-year-old can do it, and it's something so complex that the world's greatest scholars can do it (and sometimes, the 3-year-olds' creativity prevail). Therefore, create. Make a salad, write in a journal or go take a photo on your phone. The possibilities are endless, and you'll have something of your own to be proud of in the end. As we are God's creation, He gave us the ability to create. It just makes sense. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: We create because He created.  

Thoughts on Computer Screens

Ever since I've entered the 'professional' work world, I've noticed a lot of things I never thought I would notice about the work place, but one thing in particular that I've noticed about the work place is that no one likes to have their computer screen. A computer screen is almost as sacred as someone's credit card information; we all do everything we can to try to not let anyone else see it. We situate our desks so our screens don't face the door, we minimize all our active windows the minute someone walks through the door and we get protective any time someone asks to see something we're working on. Honestly, I just think it's just a really weird work culture attribute. I mean, it's not like anyone is looking at anything inappropriate; we just all have our own projects up, our own news articles pulled up and our own emails and information pulled up. It makes sense that we're all a little paranoid with people trying to read over our shoulder; it's still just funny to me. 

I think the idea of being over-protective of our computer screens makes me feel like we have all have something to hide- not like a conspiracy kind of hide, but like a "I've been sitting at my desk for 5 hours, so I'm not doing 'work' right now" kind of something to hide. At least, that's the way I am, anyway. I know that after I've been sitting around doing work for a few hours, I take an online break to surf some of my favorite blogs or catch up on local news; however, any time I do, even though I know I've been working, I still get a really paranoid feeling. I get a feeling that my supervisor or someone in upper management will come in, look at my computer and scold me for taking a break, which I know they won't because we're all human and we all take breaks. But still, that doesn't stop the feeling of me wanting to be doing something productive, something work related, when and if they come in and look at what I'm doing.

This feeling kind of reminds me of the feeling I get when I think about Christ coming back. It's not a haunting or a 'big brother's always watching' feeling; it's just more of a feeling of wondering what I'll be doing if Christ comes back while I'm still on this earth. Will I be doing something that I know would please Him, or will I be doing something that's more along the lines of "I need to minimize this if my boss comes in because it's not work"?

I think it's safe to say this is a thought that all Christians have thought about at some point- the thought of Christ coming back and what we'll all be doing. I mean, who doesn't want to please the Savior and Creator of the world? I think if we all had a choice, we would all opt to be on some epic mission trip leading a Bible study when Christ came back, not sitting on our butts watching re-runs of Friends; however, that isn't always real life. 

Real life isn't always a mission trip, just like work isn't always 'work.' We all take breaks, we all rest, and we all have our "I feel like I should minimize this" moments. It's just part of life and part of being human. As much as we'd all like to please our boss, or even more so, our Creator, all the time with work and action, that wouldn't be possible; however, just because we aren't always working doesn't mean we are displeasing those above us. Bosses understand, and the Creator of the world understands. They rest, and He rested too. 

Don't feel paranoid and don't always feel like you have to minimize your life. Work hard and work efficiently, but also rest and take breaks- that's the only way we can work to our full potential. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: God isn't 'big brother.'

Looking Up

​We live in an extremely connected world now a days. So extremely connected, in fact, that we can almost live vicariously/virtually through others in every aspect of life. With Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat, we can practically share any and every little thing we do throughout the day if we want to. We can post photos of our food to share meals with others, we can post Snapchat stories on the hour, every hour, of our current situations and we can post an Instagram photo of our daily highlight. Essentially, if we wanted to, we could post so much that we could make the question, "What did you do today?" irrelevant.

With so much posting, sharing and texting these days, it's easy to become so 'connected' that we become disconnected with everything/everyone else. It's easy to get so caught up in trying to capture a moment through the lense of a device that we miss the moment itself in its reality. We can become so focused on sharing our experience virtually with the World Wide Web that we miss the experience ourselves. After all, experiences are about experiencing something, not just sharing it on the Internet.

Last night, I went to a concert, and for the first time at a concert, I didn't take a photo, I didn't take a video and I didn't take anything to post to social media. I just 'sat back and enjoyed the show,' as they say. It was nice, and then, today, something amazing happened. I realized, for some strange reason, when people asked me in person how the concert was, I had much more to say about it than usual. It was like I had no photos or videos to show for it, so I had to recreate the shows sites, sounds and moments in my head and replay them for the person asking about it. Surprisingly, it seemed to come to life in my mind, and I was able to describe it better than normal. Now, I don't know if this was because it was an amazing concert or if it really was because I enjoyed the moment more than before, I'm just saying there was definitely a difference.

I'm not sure if there's something to be said for being too connected to our technology that we miss reality, but I do believe that there's something ​to be said for missing moments when were preoccupied with reliving other people's moments in the palms of our hands. Don't miss reality. Be present and enjoy it.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Look up.

When Rest turns into laziness

Rest is a great thing. It's laying down, it's sleeping and it's an afternoon nap. It's also a beach vacation, a chill weekend or a Sunday afternoon drive down a back road. Rest comes in all forms and fashions, and it's something we all need if we want to stay healthy, both physically and mentally. Whether it's 6-8 hours of beauty sleep every night or 4-6 hours of restless sleep every night, rest is something we all try to get at some point throughout each of our days; however, sometimes, rest can turn into laziness, and lately, that's been the case for me. 

Over the past couple of weeks, rest has become an idol in my life. It's been the thing I've looked forward to most of all out of each and every day. Whether it's been hitting the 'snooze' button an extra three times each morning or day dreaming about crawling into bed at night every afternoon at work, I've been taking the whole 'rest well' concept a little bit too far. At one point this week, I literally went into my room at 6 p.m. to take a nap and didn't wake up until 7 a.m. the next morning. Sure, I 'woke up,' but I sure as heck didn't 'get up.' I fell back asleep because the comfort was too real, and I felt like I needed to rest (even though I'd rested 13+ hours).

Lately, rest has turned into laziness for me, and a big reason for that is because I believe that sometimes we feel like we're entitled to rest. That's why this is the first blog that I've written in 15 days (NEARLY HALF A MONTH). For me, that's crazy; however, if you were to ask me why I haven't written in 15 days, I'd tell you it was because I needed rest. After all, I just wrote 100 days in a row. Don't I deserve rest? Aren't I entitled to a few days off? The same thing can be said for why I hit the snooze button and skip out on some of the morning disciplines I'd gotten into the habit of. I worked ALL day, and then I went to the gym and had to make dinner after that. I deserve rest because life is tiring, right?

Right. But also, wrong.

Rest is a great thing, and it's something we all need, but when we get to the point where we feel like we're entitled to prolonged rest, it can become a bad thing. When rest begins to steal away from more important things and becomes the driving factor in your decision making process when it comes to what to do with your time, there may be a problem. When rest turns into an excuse for laziness, it may be time to re-evaluate what healthy rest really is. 

Healthy rest is not:

• Having the same sleep schedule as a hibernating bear
• Hitting the snooze button like a game of whack-a-mole
• Or being 'entitled' to laziness

Healthy rest is:

• Being still
• Being restored (physically, mentally and spiritually)
• And being aware of where your rest really comes from

At the heart of rest is the discipline of resting well and recognizing that not all the things we choose to relax with give us rest. Separate relaxation and laziness from rest and find the app to your nap.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Fifteen days without blogging can't happen again. 

Lessons Learned From Dogs

It never fails, my friend Murray is always happy to see me.

Every morning, Murray is the first one greet me, and every night, he's the last person to say good night. He's usually so excited to see me, he jumps up and down, which usually I might find a bit excessive, but in his case, I'm okay with it. 

Murray never seems to be in a bad mood about his day, no matter how unproductive or productive it may have been, and he's never hurt when I tell him he can't have any of my food. He lives a pretty simple life, only eating one kind of food and drinking only water, and he doesn't seem to mind sleeping on the same old blanket every single night. His favorite possession is a stuffed animal, and as long as he has that and is sitting in the presence of another human being, he's completely content. It doesn't hurt his feelings when I shut the door in his face, and it doesn't even seem to bother him when I tell him he needs to chill out. He just keeps doing his thing and being his happy self.

I think there's a lot I can learn from my friend Murray, and the funny thing is, Murray is a dog (disclosure: photo above is not Murray).

I'm not sure if you've every noticed, but it seems like 99% of the time, dogs are happy. Their tails are wagging, their tongues are out and all they wanna do is be around you. I don't know how they do it. Minus the times when they're in trouble, scared or sick, there doesn't seem to be a sad bone in their body. Sure, they may possibly lack the emotional range of human beings, but I still think there's something to learn from the happiness that dogs carry.

Dogs' happiness toward others isn't dependent on what you said or did to them earlier in the day or if you shut the door in their face because you got tired of throwing the ball for them. They forgive and forget easily and move on to the next thing. It's outstanding. For instance, I can tell Murray to chill out, go to my room and shut the door in his face after he's been sitting in the house all day by himself just waiting for my roommate or I to get home, and the moment I open the door again he's sitting there, tail wagging, completely ecstatic to see me again. If I walked into my house and had a friend or family member sitting there who had been there all day by themselves, and they jumped up with a smile, eager to see me and be around another person for a little while, and the only thing I said to them before walking to my room and closing the door was 'chill out,' they would think I was the biggest jerk ever and probably have their feelings hurt. Dogs aren't like that. They're forgiving and all-around happy. 

I think we could all stand to be a little bit more like dogs- not in a way that we smell like them or have breath like them, but in a way that's always eager, always forgiving and always greeting others with joy. Too often, it's too easy to approach the day with apathy, too easy to hold grudges and too easy to greet one another with a grumbled, "Hi. . ." and move on to the next thing in the day, rather than being excited to see and interact with one another. We should all take notes from our furry friends and learn to look at life and others with happiness. Dogs may have fleas, but they're doing something right when it comes to putting a smile on people's faces. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: "Be eager. Forgive. Be happy." - My friend Murray 

Flames > Florescents

There's something about the smell of smoke that does nothing but trigger good memories for me. It makes me think of home, fire pits and barbecues. The instant I get a whiff of it, memories start rolling through my mind, and I'm immediately put at ease with everything around me. It's just a peaceful smell.

Today, as I was hiking through a campground in the Osage Hills, I caught a whiff of smoke (the good kind; not the house/grass fire kind), and like I said above, my mind immediately flooded with memories, and I was put in a super great mood. It seemed to make the hike 10x better, and as the memories flooded my mind, so did lots of other thoughts about smoke and fire.

I just think there's something about fires that are super unique compared to other sorts of light. Think about it, if you and a group of friends lit a fire, whether it be a campfire, fireplace or fire pit, it automatically makes your hangout sessions about 100x better than it would be with no fire. Can you imagine just sitting around with a group of friends in front of a florescent light? I can't. It wouldn't be any fun; however, as soon as you add a fire into the mix, things get good. Fires are just better than lights. Fires provide heat, they can be used to cook on (S'MORES!), they provide a nice crackle for background noise and the flames provide mind-numbing entertainment as they dance around better than any exotic dancer ever could. There's just something about fires that take things up a notch. 

When I think about fires and why they might be so special, I just think about how many thousands of years fires have been burning. They've been going since like the beginning of time, and when we, as members of the 21st century, get to participate in an activity such as campfire that's been going on since the beginning of the world as we know it, it's a special feeling for us, whether it's in our subconscious or not. It's something that all of the human race has participated in, and getting to see the light and feel the warmth of the flames may be somewhat of a reminder and nostalgic feeling all humans can relate to in some form or fashion.  

Where there's smoke, there's fire, and where there's fire, there's warmth, memories and light (again, talking about the good kind of fires; not the bad kind). Don't take for granted one of this world's greatest, simplest gifts. Take some time in the next couple of weeks to step back to the caveman days and build a fire to enjoy with some people you love. Start up the fireplace and sit around it, fire up the grill and cook over an open flame or grab some firewood and head out to a local camp ground and enjoy a campfire. You won't be disappointed and neither will your ancestors. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Flames > Florescents  

HELP: I'm An Adult & Forget How To Read For Fun

A lot of changes happen throughout the years of transitioning from childhood to adulthood. You go through puberty, you start driving cars instead of playing with them and your capes turn into ordinary blankets again. Another thing that happens in the transition from childhood to adulthood is that you begin to read for different reasons, and, sadly, the only thing your parents read to you is your great aunt's Facebook status. The nights of bedtime stories spent with the latest adventure story disappear and are replaced with nights of all night study sessions with the latest $200 text book or 'self-help' literature. Sadly, at least for me, reading seems to have changed.  

The other day I walked into Barnes & Noble with the goal of coming out with a book to read that was "fun," and frankly, I had no idea where to even start looking. For as long as I can remember (or at least for the last six years of my life), all that I've seemed to have read have been theology books, books on faith or text books. I honestly couldn't remember reading anything for fun since my high school days, and the only author I could remember was J.K. Rowling (if she started writing again, all my book problems would be solved, but alas she has not). It was a seriously weird realization for me. All the fun books and authors I used to know were in the teenager section, and I knew I didn't want find myself pouring over another angsty-teen novel at age 24, so I headed for the adult fiction section and hoped for the best.

Hope was lost.

I felt like I was looking for Waldo in the Candy Cane Forest. I couldn't find anything, and I had no idea where to even start. I mean, Barnes & Noble has like a bazillion books, and not all of which, I'm assuming, are good. Therefore, I got overwhelmed, shuffled my feet out the door and left, book-less. 

It was as I was walking out the door that I came to the sad realization that I have forgotten how to read for fun. It's kind of like that feeling a competitive swimming has when all of his or her friends want to go hang out by the pool in the summer and 'swim.' The only thing that 'swim' means to you is swimming laps, and your friends definitely aren't going to be doing that, so you're left wondering, "How does one just 'go swimming' without swimming 1,200 meters?"

Realizing I'd forgotten how to read for fun really irritated me and left me feeling even less like a kid. Sure, I could've gone into the bookstore's fiction section and grabbed anything written by Charles Dickens or Mark Twain and been fine, but there was just something empty feeling about walking into a bookstore with literally zero idea of any authors or creative stories to pick up. I miss the days of having a list of books to get through throughout the school year and reading stories because they're stories, not just because they contain loads of knowledge. There are lots of creative minds and creative works out there ready to by read; I was just at a loss for how to find them.

Like most instances when I'm at a loss, I told a couple of friends about the problem I was having, and two short days later, I had a list of five 'fun' books to check out, the location of the nearest public library and a copy of a book called, "This is a Book," (fun title, right?) in my hand. So, if you're like me and at a loss for what to read or how to read for fun as you've gotten older, here's a simple solution: Ask a friend for help. Odds are, not everyone you know has forgotten the secret art of reading for reading's sake. As Reading Rainbow once said, "Take a look; It's in a book."

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Reading doesn't have to be all about theology, knowledge and textbooks. It can be fun, no matter how old you get.  

Embracing My Inner Hipster

Do you ever fear that your true self is someone that culture constantly mocks or considers a cliche? For example, let's just say you're a Dallas Cowboys fan because that's who your parents liked when you were growing up. Even though it's the most cliche NFL team in the country, you still like them, and any time someone asks you who your favorite team is, and you respond with, "The Dallas Cowboys," they give you that look. You know, the look that only Dallas Cowboy fans and hipsters know. The look of "Oh, of course you are. How original." The person couldn't care less that you genuinely grew up liking the team as a part of a family tradition, and they just automatically put you into the category of being a cliche Dallas Cowboy fan. 

The more I look at myself now-a-days, the more I feel like I fall into this category of a cliche. Why? Because I fit perfectly into both of said categories above - one more than the other. Yes, I'm a Dallas Cowboys fan, but more so than that, I feel like if I looked at myself in the mirror, I would call me that word we all know and love: a hipster (I guess the first step is admitting it). 

I'm going to tell you a few of my favorite things, and I'll let you decide for yourself whether or not I fit the mold:

• Blogging
• Converse shoes
• Coffee shops
• Music
• Apple Products
• 'Slim' pants
• Photography
• Graphic design
• Vinyl
• Hiking
• Traveling

I could keep going, but I think you get the picture. If you were to draw up a person that looked like what I just described, you'd probably add on some thick rimmed glasses and a beanie, but for the most part, you'd come out with a hipster-ish looking individual. Now, for the longest time, this bothered me. I didn't want to be put into a category, especially a category as cliche as 'hipster,' but really, that list above describes me pretty well, despite how cliche it may be. Those are the things and hobbies in life that I find most enjoyable; they aren't part of a mold that I'm trying to fit into. It's just life.

I'm not writing this to admit to being a hipster, and I'm not writing it to encourage you to 'just be yourself no matter what that looks like!' I'm writing this because I want to encourage you not to be afraid of what culture may or may not call you. If you like country music, wearing cowboy boots and farming, don't be afraid of the word 'redneck.' If you like school, reading and have to wear glasses, don't be afraid of the word 'nerd.'

Whatever category you fear you may fit in, you're more than a category. You're more than a label, and you're more than a word that someone may call you. We all have our own interests, and we all have things in our lives that genuinely make us happy. It's not about living up to or not living up to what culture says about you. Don't be afraid of 'fitting a cliche' or not. Enjoy what you enjoy and embrace your inner 'hipster' (or whatever the world calls you that you may or may not like to hear).

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: If you look like a _____, sound like a ______ and smell like a ______, you might be a blank, but that's not always a bad thing. (results vary) 
 

Hot Tub Time Machines

This past week, I joined a local gym for the first time since I've moved to Tulsa. It's a great little gym connected to a hospital with all of your basic gym needs such as weights, cardio equipment, etc., but the best thing about this gym is that it has a hot tub!

Hot tubs are like the perfect combination of a bathtub and a swimming pool; it's hot like a bath tub (minus soap), but big (and public) like a swimming pool. Hot tubs are also great because you get to experience awkwardness at its finest. I mean, what's better than sharing a bubbling pool of luke warm water with half naked strangers who may or may not be the same gender as you and may or may not be twice your age. It's great not only because it's awkward, but also because you never know what kind of good conversations you're going to over hear. 

Today, during my hot tub session, I walked in on two older gentlemen, each over the age of 70, having a discussion about their loss of vision over the years. One was a doctor from Philly and the other was a Tulsa kid, born and raised and a big fan of the Temple University basketball team. Now, you may be thinking, "Why is he peppering in all of this information for backstory? What's the point?"

Here's the answer, I don't really have a point other than the fact that there is just something so cool to me about listening to older generations discuss life with one another. Have you ever just sat around and listened to older people talk? It's so enlightening. These two guys never got around to asking me how my vision was, if I'd been to Philly or how I thought Temple would fair in the NCAA tournament this year, but that didn't matter. I was more than happy just listening and they were more than happy just sharing. It was like my own hot tub time machine. I don't want to call this eavesdropping; I want to call it learning. It's not like I really learned any super valuable life lesson from their talk, but I did learn some of their story, and that in itself is cool and worth it. 

Hearing and knowing a piece of someone's story is a special thing. After all, a person's story is something we all have, yet something none of us have in common. Stories from older generations are even better because they're old stories to new ears with new applications. If you haven't before, sit down and listen to some old stories, even if it takes eavesdropping in a hot tub. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: You don't need a time machine or a hot tub to travel through time.  

What Blogging for 100 Straight Days Taught Me

Today is a day that I thought would never, ever get here. Today is day 100. This is blog number 100 out of 100, finally completing the goal that I set for myself on Oct. 18 last year to complete 100 blogs in 100 days, and now, as I look back on it and where it started, I feel like I'm over looking the Grand Canyon. What. A. Workout. 

It's funny how Cliff Notes has evolved over these past few months. It has guest posts, posts about faith, posts about life and helpful hint posts, but most of all, it has posts about relatable life lessons. Therefor, I find it ironic, yet somewhat fitting, that like most things in life and most things written on Cliff Notes, blogging over these past few months has taught me a life lesson. It's not a life lesson that's super profound or mind-blowing, and it's not a life lesson that I can't say that I haven't thought of before. It's a simple, practical life lesson that I think we can all relate to.

The life lesson is this: If you set a goal and want to do something, sometimes you just have to do it, even when you have no idea what you're doing, and it's the last thing you want to do. Just do it. It may look like a never-ending journey with no end in site, but it isn't. All goals have an end, and all goals better you in the end.

Over these last 100 days, a lot has happened. There have been nights I've stayed up longer than I've wanted to just to get a blog out, nights that I've been out with friends and not gotten back till 1 a.m. and had to stay up to write and, mostly, nights that I literally have had ZERO idea of what I wanted to write about; I think that's the funniest part and where I've learned this life lesson the most: Blogging for 100 days doesn't mean that I've had 100 ideas of something to write about. On the contrary, I've probably had about 20 ideas I've wanted to write about, and the other 80 ideas have come from just sitting at my lap top the night of and reflecting on the day. Most of the time, blogging has been a means to look back at a day lived, reflect on it, realize a lesson learned and share that lesson with others who I know have probably encountered the same thing before. It has become an exercise to practice honesty and vulnerability, and it has become something that has made me realize that you don't always have to know what you're doing or how you're going to do it in order to do something. Sometimes you just have to step up to the plate, take a swing and hope to hit the ball.

When I started this 100 days of blogging, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but now, I don't think I'm going to stop. I may not write EVERY SINGLE DAY, but It'll be close to that. So, thank you to everyone who has kept up with Cliff Notes over these past few months, who has not gotten annoyed with it clogging up your newsfeed and especially those who have sent any sort of encouragement my way to keep writing, no matter what. It's come on the days I've needed it most and on the days I've felt like quitting. Here's to the next 100 days.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Whatever goals you set, do what you need to to accomplish them. Do it when you want to, when you don't want to and when the world doesn't want you to. You set the goal for a reason.  

A Life-Lesson From: "Will You Open This For Me?"

It's funny how just noticing and analyzing human behavior during the mundane things of every day life can really open your eyes to how your own behavior in certain situations. I'm by no means a psychologist or a sociologist, but I do like people watching, and I do like learning from other people and myself. Because of this, I had one of those learning moments this afternoon. 

Today at work during our lunch break, my friend was trying to get the lid of her soup unscrewed. After trying for a few seconds, she gave up with a sigh and looked to the guy on her left to ask if he could open it for her. Naturally, he obliged, and after some effort and time spent trying himself, he was able to pop the top off, and she was able to enjoy her soup.

This got me to thinking about how these scenarios usually go for me, personally. If I'm in her shoes, and I can't get something open, I usually give up pretty quickly just like she did because I feel awkward and weak when I can't open something, especially with people staring, and so I pass it a long to another person to see they have any better luck with it. If they do, I immediately chime in with the, "Well, I loosened it," line. On the other hand, if I'm on the receiving end of a container that I can't be opened, I'm much more likely to put forth more effort to open said container than I would if it was my own container, especially if it was a female who handed it to me. There's this sense of 'saving the day' if you're able to open someone else's jar, and you definitely don't want to be the person looking weak after the other person "loosened it." Simply put, I spend a little more time and work a little harder when it's not my container to open.

This may just be the case for me, but honestly, I think it's the case for a lot of people. I believe we would all say we'd try a little harder to open someone else's container. Why? It could be simply because we want to help people, or it could be something deeper, like the idea of wanting to impress our peers. I know that's the case for me. If I'm honest, I don't always want to open your jar of pickles because I want to help you get your sour cucumber of goodness; I usually want to open your jar of pickles because I want to prove my strength because I'm a guy and that's what guys are supposed to do. 

It's a weird moment when you realize a motive behind something so common as opening a jar for someone. It's a reality check, and it's a check to my ego. I don't want to do 'nice things' out of selfish motives; I want to do 'nice things' out of selfless motives. True, the nice thing gets done either way, but much of the time when we serve or do anything for anyone, it's the heart behind it that counts, not just the service.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Actual strength isn't found in opening the pickle jar; it's found in the heart behind the hand opening the pickle jar.