things change

A little over a year ago, a blog was born…this one to be specific. It was in the midst of a Fall Break that involved next to no work (which, oddly, sounds exactly like this one). In a little over a year, this site has been visited 2477 times, which I find extremely humbling, given the fact that I don’t really think that reading about my fairly insignificant life warrants being read that many times (I am aware of the fact that this doesn’t necessarily mean that that many people have visited the site, but still, it has to be quite a handful).

A couple of things related to that first post: 1) I still have doubts about whether or not I want to start teaching the minute I leave DePauw, 2) still about 10 steps ahead of myself, 3) Fall still reminds me of smooth Jazz (which is why I spend a lot of time listening to it these days), 4) that whole “Boy Meets World” thing is probably still true- the other day, I watched the last ten minutes of the series finale and actually shed a few tears…again, 5) I still like “Somebody to Love” by Queen (and was extremely pleased to see it featured on Glee a couple of weeks ago) and “Africa” by Toto (which I expect to see on Glee soon )  and, finally, 6) I’m glad to see I haven’t “dropped” this, although I have not kept up with it to the extent that I wish I had…this hopefully will change.

But enough about the past. I spent two days this past week working with my dad, who is a stationary engineer at an office building in downtown Chicago. My first thought going into this endeavor was how awful it was going to be, only because my experience of working with my father had been horribly jaded by my working with him the summer after my Freshman year at DePauw. I wasn’t really mentally prepared for working with my dad, as he is a very particular person about what he wants, and knows exactly how he wants to go about it. Not knowing this going into my first opportunity to work with him, I don’t look upon it very favorably. However, I honestly can say that I did enjoy this experience in working with my dad, if only because I feel like I learned so much about him (and myself) over the course of those two days. I had already figured out that the personable, outgoing side of me was something I had picked up from him (not to say that my mother isn’t like that, but she’s certainly not as “in your face” as my dad is), but I also figured out that the analytical, problem solving part of my personality came from him, as I watched him figure out how to remove a defunct hot water heater from about twelve feet up using a pully system created from a piece of conduit pipe, electrical wire and a piece of metal that I attached to the hot water heater to create a pseudo-handle on the unit. My roommate and I made a joke a couple of weeks ago about how my dad was like MacGyver when he fixed the power in our room simply by pushing the circuit breaker further into the “on” position, but watching him rig this system (and it working with no problems) certainly made it seem less like a joke and more like an honest comparison.

Besides learning more about myself, I’ve spent the past week mainly not working on assignments due after Fall Break and doing other things such as: 1) watching the series finale of the former Disney Channel series “Phil of the Future” and being extremely disappointed (if Phil’s parents and sister all wanted to sabotage going back to the future, then why bother? No, instead, let’s have Phil and Keely say goodbye to each other and never see each other again…boo), 2) attempting to re-string my guitar (which I barely play as it is) and botching it to the point of breaking both the old string and the new one, 3) reading Dubliners by James Joyce, which I am enjoying thus far, 4) going to lunch with one of my good friends from home and pondering life’s difficulties.

Among these things, I also went to dinner with my retired church music director, who, I am happy to say, is enjoying retirement but, I am displeased to report, is very unhappy with the way the music ministry is going at our parish (you can’t be happy with something if you use the phrase “it’s breaking my heart” to describe it). It really hit me hard when she told me she was retiring over the summer, but now the fact that it’s a reality is something I’m having a hard time coming to grips with. Since I was a very young boy, she’s been the music director of our church. I can remember running up the steps of the organ loft (when the organ was still functional) as a young tyke and saying hello to her. When I decided to join the music ministry at the church as Freshman in high school, little did I know I was going to learn so much from this woman I had known basically all of my life. She’s always been a staunch supporter of everything I’ve done, and I’ve always enjoyed working with her and just talking with her. Although there’s great gap in our age, I’ve always felt like she’s seen me as a peer, which is probably why I’ve always enjoyed passing time with her. Now, I honestly don’t know how to feel, since I know she’s no longer contributing to the parish in the way I’ve always seen her doing so, and I don’t know how I’m going to react when I step into that church tomorrow morning and see someone who (to me) is a complete stranger doing what I’ve seen (and greatly admired) her do for so long.

But, as they say, life goes on, because we and our lives around us change. Charles DuBois once said, “The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become.” As much as change can suck, sometimes we have to embrace change wholeheartedly, or else we may never fully attain our potential.

-MJH

occurrences

In what is becoming a personally disappointing pattern, I have noticed that it has once again been almost a month since I last visited this place.

Could it be because I have been busy with a theatrical production? *shock, awe* Yes, very much so. This, along with the fact that this semester is successfully giving me the back of its hand in many ways, most of which involve driving around rural Indiana observing classrooms.

First things first, in these past six weeks I was involved in rehearsals (and performances) of DePauw Theatre’s production of Moliere’s Tartuffe. I had the joy of working with many familiar faces from DePauw Theatre’s Twelfth Night, with my good friend (and roommate) Jared Norman playing the titular role. I played Cleante, the show’s well-mannered, yet horribly verbose, level-headed voice of reason (who, in my honest opinion, bears a liking to William Daniels’ John Adams in the musical “1776″). With a lot of hard work, the whole production went off without a hitch, with four sold out nights of shows that ended last Sunday.

Monday was an odd experience, given that it marked the first time thus far this semester that I had a night with no rehearsal. I was also feeling pretty good physically, thinking I had avoided my traditional post-production physical meltdown that involves me getting horribly sick.

Then Tuesday came; started feeling feverish that afternoon and ended up cancelling for both voice studio and my night class and going to bed at 9 PM. I proceeded to wake up at 2 AM feeling as if my body was on fire…needless to say that Wednesday morning was no better. I arose at about 10:20 that morning still with said fever; unfortunately, things were not going to get better.

10:49 AM. Call from home. Mom informs me that my uncle Patrick O’Beirne, the husband of my dad’s sister Mary, had passed away the night before at their home in Athlone, Ireland.

All I can remember saying is “What?”

I have always fondly remembered the visits that my Uncle Patrick and Aunt Mary would make to the States from Ireland. Uncle Patrick was a well-read man, and well-spoken too (what Irishman isn’t?). I remember most recently a trip they made to Chicago this past summer. Uncle Patrick bought me a keychain from the Lincoln Museum in Springfield, IL; for some reason I thought it was particularly nice of him to think of me, since I couldn’t make the trip with my parents and them to Springfield. He had an affinity for golf, but was kind enough to always speak with you about almost anything. It was the kind of thing where you felt like what you said really mattered, because he was actually engaged and interested in what you were talking about. I’ve gone through the process of wondering why God would take such a loving and caring man away from his family, but have come to realize, through the wise words of a friend of mine, that if you dwell on questions like that, you’ll only hold on to bitter, negative feelings. My deepest and sincerest condolences go out to everyone affected by the passing of Patrick O’Beirne, father, husband, uncle and friend, among a host of many other things, I am sure.

“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.” -Albert Pike

I think there is much that my dear uncle Patrick has left that is immortal; Rest in Peace.

Love,

Martin

show me what i’m looking for

It’s been a while since I’ve last been here…realized that I needed to reflect a little bit.

I recently re-read the short book “The Shepherd” by Matthew Kelly (those of you who have seen my Facebook lately will recognize this) and I’ve been trying to figure out the following quote:

“…God reveals His will one step at a time, but this creates a great deal of uncertainty, and we don’t like that. In this modern age we try to control all of the elements so that we can have security and stability. If only we could learn to enjoy uncertainty. Uncertainty is a sign that all is well. God is your friend; He will take care of the details.”

There is something profound about that quote. Unfortunately, to me, it’s so profound that I really can’t make it make sense. How can you enjoy uncertainty? I’ve never been the type of person that’s okay with not being “in the know”. I usually try my best to know what’s going on, what people are up to, just to be informed. To me, it kills me to not know some things.

I have previously mentioned a song used in Taize’ prayer called “In the Lord I’ll be ever thankful”; it contains the lyrics “Look to God, Do Not Be Afraid. Lift up your voices, the Lord is near.” For some reason I connect these lyrics with the above quote, but I guess, as easy as it is to say that I can look to God and not be afraid, I have a hard time actually looking to God for help.

In fact, I have a hard time looking to anyone for help. There are friends of mine who point this out that I vehemently deny this fact to, but I’ve become more and more aware of it. Believe me, I’m not one of those folks who sees asking others for help as a sign of “weakness”, but I guess I’ve always felt that I need to be helping someone, not someone needing help.

A good example is a meeting I had last week with my group of First-Year students (for you first-timers, I’m a mentor for a group of First-Year students at DePauw, and we meet during the year to check in and discuss pertinent issues of what’s occurring on campus). I started the meeting by asking everyone in the group to share one high and one low from their experience so far here. We got through everybody and then a couple of them asked me, “So what’s your high and low?” and I sort of deflected the question, but they were persistent and so I shared.

Looking back on it, I can actually remember students from my group last year asking me the same thing and me reacting much the same way. It actually bothers me a bit that I did react the same way this time around; I suppose I still have this same feeling that, being a mentor, my problems aren’t of anyone’s consequence but mine.

I guess I’m slowly learning that enjoying uncertainty would be a hell of a lot easier if I just let myself go every once in a while. If I could own up to the fact that I’m not “above” having problems, or that sometimes we all need to lean on somebody, I might have an easier go of things.

But therein lies the problem: I always am trying. I’m not saying that I need to quit trying, but maybe I need to lessen the intensity of my trying. As they say, whatever happens happens.

So I leave you with the lyrics of a song by the band Carolina Liar (I am fairly aware of the fact that this song is widely played), but I feel the lyrics have a place here (this post’s title is the name of the song):

Wait, I’m wrong
Should have done better than this
Please, I’ll be strong
I’m finding it hard to resist
So show me what I’m looking for

I think the uncertainty is the search for what we’re looking for, we’re just not being shown all at once.

-MJH

here we are, once again

First day of Junior year, under my belt. As classes go, it was an uneventful day, but, on a spiritual and emotional level it was very jarring, if I can be so bold to use that word.

As I mentioned in my last post, DePauw student Shelby Evans passed away this past summer. Today there was a memorial service held by the University for her and, even though I didn’t know Shelby very well at all, I was deeply touched by the outpouring of support by the amount of people who came to the service, and the kind words that were spoken about her as well.

I didn’t respond emotionally while I was at the service; I felt sad, to be sure, but I just didn’t outwardly react. For some reason, as I left the service, being outside and realizing how much of a treasure just being alive is kind of hit me hard. I could feel the tears slowly falling upon my cheeks as I started walking back to my house, when I was fortunate enough to run into a wonderful friend of mine who could tell I was not in the best shape. In that moment that I ran into her, I think I saw what was referred to on Teen Service Week this year as “God’s thumbprint”. Her concern for my well-being and just being there to pick me up made me feel better, and made me appreciate her friendship even more.

In especially rough times, it’s hard to think that there’s something (or someone) out there that’s watching out for you, or that everything’s “going to be alright” (as I’ve mentioned my mother’s much touted mantra). And yet, somehow, as I see it (and I can respect those that do not), God will provide.

So, as you read this tonight, be thankful for the family, the friends, the people in your life that pick you up when you’re down, or go that extra mile to watch your back, because those are the people that will be there for you, no matter what. And, to be perfectly honest, life wouldn’t be worth living without enjoying the company of the people that care about you.

I leave you with a short verse from the Book of Wisdom, Chapter 3, Verses 1-3, in the memory of Shelby Evans; I hope those of you affected by her passing can find the peace and comfort of God in this time of mourning.

Wisdom, 3 : 1-3
But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish,  to be dead; and their passing away was thought to be an affliction
and their going forth from us, utter destruction.
But they are in peace.

-MJH

the fragility of life

I currently sit here in my home on an evening when I should be at DePauw for First-Year Experience Mentor training because of unfortunate circumstances.

This past Wednesday, my uncle passed away, at the age of 68. His passing was after a very intense battle with colon cancer, which had led him to be bedridden for the past month, if not more. His loss is tremendous, but the fact that he is no longer suffering is a kind of solace that we must divulge in because there is nothing else.

The thing that really hit me hard was the realization, as my dad had mentioned, that my uncle was only twenty days older than my dad is. That kind of reminder of our own mortality, and how fragile life really is, can be tremendously humbling.

This came along with a remembrance of a person who would have been on the DePauw First Year Experience staff this year who passed away this past summer. She would have been a Junior at DePauw like myself, and, although I didn’t know her very well at all, hearing all the wonderful things that I did about her, it certainly made me realize how a wonderful person had been called to God much before anyone here really wanted her to.

All of this has made me realize that life needs to be lived. As cliche as that sounds, it’s extremely easy to let life pass you by and just let it happen, but you have to realize that you’re not going to remember that one time you took a nap on a Friday afternoon. You’re going to remember the time you went out and volunteered, or saw the sunrise, or watched the sunset, or stayed up all night talking with one of your best friends, because we tend to remember our lives in that sort of episodic kind of way.

Create those moments; seek those opportunities; don’t wake up and realize that you didn’t follow your dream or you didn’t get up the courage to ask that person out who you think is really cute.

But don’t only challenge yourself to live your life, but challenge others too. Draw that person out of their comfort zone, and expect the same out of them.

The mentor/facilitator in me is alive and well. I think my first fear about returning as a mentor was that I was going to be too complacent, but if you try your hardest to own your experiences, then you’re going to reap great rewards.

I know I’m going to try my hardest. I hope you do too.

Not to soapbox, but I’m going to put a Bible verse here that I find comfort in in times of loss. Rest in Peace, Uncle Jim and Shelby Evans.

John 14:1-3
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.”

-MJH

Du holde Kunst, ich danke dir dafür!

Roughly translated: Thou sacred art, my thanks to thee for this. It’s the last line of a song by Franz Schubert simply titled “An die Musik” or “To Music”.

It was one of the songs on the program of my concert from this afternoon. I was lucky enough to perform in the beautiful Cindy Pritzker Auditorium at the Harold Washington Library Center.  The 45 minute program consisted of Italian arias, German art songs, opera arias, a Hungarian song, English art songs and a few Irish selections. Overall, I feel like it went well (this may change upon further review), as I managed to make it through the entire program with only one break to re-hydrate. There were plenty of compliments afterwards (a good sign) and a decent turnout (a better sign).

I guess the reason I made the line from that Schubert song the title of this post is because it is so expressive of how I truly feel about music at this point in my life. Two nights ago, I decided to look up the translation for the lyrics to “An die Musik” because, unfortunately, I hadn’t up to that point. That was when I realized that the song was basically an ode to music itself. It was after reading those lyrics that I realized, no matter how frustrating I had ever found music, I had to be thankful for the reality that music has brought me great joy and fortune (albeit not in an ultimately financial sense).

Speaking of being thankful for music, I must also say that I’m thankful for good company and good times, which summer usually brings an abundance of both. Myself and two compatriots have created a YouTube video as part of a contest by Japanese band the pillows, to try to win a trip to Japan. So, if you will humor me, please head to YouTube and watch the video. Yours truly is on lead vocals and faking his way through drum set (no comments from the peanut gallery, please). After watching the video, I remembered how good of a time I had making it, just spending time with fun people having fun.

I’m hoping there’s more in store (1.5 weeks until DePauw )

-MJH

frustrations

I realized today that I hadn’t been here in a while, so I thought, as I traversed the downtown streets this afternoon, that I could come home and put out a new post.

Get home, drop down the bag, turn on the ol’ Dell Latitude D620 and see that the screen is a little messed up. “Hey, I’m sure that’s nothing that can’t be fixed without just restarting it…Hey, how come the screen is completely black and nothing is happening?” One call to Dell later and I’m going to have to get my motherboard and video card replaced. This is the THIRD TIME I have to get a part replaced on this laptop in the TWO YEARS that I’ve owned it (thanks, DePauw Laptop Program).

That brings me to a point that I would like any DePauw student (current or alumni) to pay particular attention to: if you’ve had any problems with a Dell laptop purchased through the school’s “required” laptop program, please contact me (you can e-mail me at my school address or Facebook me) detailing what laptop it was, and if you could forward any servicing documents you received (like an e-mail from Dell confirming a repair order), I’d appreciate it. I’m looking for the school to re-evaluate its policy on laptops, given that a laptop shouldn’t need major part replacements three times in two years (I’m calling you out Dell).

But enough of that. I’m trying to enjoy my last three (well, little over two) weeks of summer here at home, before heading back to DePauw for training as a First-Year Mentor. In the meantime, I’m putting together a 45-minute program for a concert a week from tomorrow.

I’ve been entertaining myself by working at the Northwest Cafe and reading Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. The book was one that we read our Freshman year in high school, but I realized very quickly I hadn’t bothered to read it in the first place when, after I took it off my bookshelf, I found the receipt from when I bought it that year stuck in page four. It also reminded me of that first quiz we took on the book (given that I hadn’t read it, I guessed “Jacques” on two of the quiz’s five questions and got a 1 out of 5 )

The book is quite flowery in its language, which can be a bit of a pain to read at times, but the passionate build-up and occurrence of the French Revolution definitely makes for some high octane tensions.

I’ll be back on top of things once Dell actually decides to fix my laptop (whenever the hell that may be).

Truly,
MJ

a trip to remember

The past three and a half days have been a complete and total blur…

Welcome to New York City.

I was fortunate enough to spend Thursday afternoon through this afternoon in Manhattan, traveling all over the place with one of my best friends from home. The primary purpose of the trip was to go see The Public Theater’s production of Twelfth Night as part of Shakespeare in the Park at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. For those of you who don’t know, this year’s production is headlined with Anne Hathaway playing Viola, a fraternal twin separated from her brother Sebastian (confusion and hilarity ensues).

Before I get to Twelfth Night, I just want to recap the action of the past couple of days. First of all, United needs to work on figuring out how computers work. A glitch that causes a lot of flights to be cancelled is NOT cool. The decision to go with completely carry-on luggage paid off big time, as we managed to make a standby flight after both our original flight and our second flight had been cancelled. After arriving in NYC, besides raining torrentially for a bit, things settled down: dinner at the Moonrock Diner and The 39 Steps on Broadway made for a great first night.

Friday morning involved heading to The Top of the Rock and the NBC Experience Tour, both of which provided some interesting (and exciting) moments. We then ventured over to the Chrysler Building, the Daily News Building and the United Nations (which, for some reason, was closed). The coup d’etat, however, was seeing Twelfth Night at the Delacorte. (My immense gratitude goes out to Steve Showalter at the Public for the tickets; my time interning at the Public is paying back in more ways than I thought). Not only was the performance great, but meeting Anne Hathaway is always a plus. I mean, talk about not only a talented, gorgeous actress, but her willingness to stick around post-show and take photos and sign autographs made me wish all celebrities were as down to earth as she seems to be.

Independence Day was mostly spent visiting the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, a trip that’s worth it if you ever have the time for it. We didn’t have a chance to get tickets inside the Statue,  so we stuck on the ferry and took pictures from there. Ellis Island was the real treat here, as you walk the halls of where so many immigrants had once been with the hope of entering the United States. This was bookended with watching the Macy’s fireworks from the Chelsea Piers area, a sight worth seeing (although the amount of people there was almost un-Godly).

This morning involved a trip to the Metro Diner for breakfast and a flight home to Chicago from Newark International Airport. All in all, I enjoyed myself immensely and definitely will cherish this experience for years to come.

Now, on to Twelfth Night. Given the fact that I spent most of the show reciting it word for word (when you’re an actor in a show, you end up seeing it dozens of times, so it just happens), I could tell where cuts were made and where order may have been switched. However, I didn’t feel like any changes or cuts made detracted from the performance at all. On a personal note, the Twelfth Night cast at DePauw got cast shirts that have a line from the show on the back that the Public’s performance decided to omit, which I thought quite a shame: Feste, Act I, scene 5 “(For what says Quinapalus?) ‘Better a witty Fool than a foolish wit.’” (the non-parenthetical part is what’s on the shirt).

The set, albeit somewhat simple, fit the show perfectly, as it looked like a rolling green meadow that could have been pulled from Central Park itself, providing a beautiful backdrop for the outdoor Delacorte. The music (both incidental and what is performed by the characters) was written by the band Hem. It was quite breathtaking in its sound; I considered it very Irish-sounding, as it included the use of violins and the bodhran drum. The performances were fantastically executed. However, given the amount of time and work I spent playing the role of Feste, I must say I was a bit disappointed by David Pittu’s take on the character. And, yes,  I do realize that pitting myself against an established actor makes me sound like a hack, but I felt I should say something because, well, this is my blog, so tough nuts if you don’t like it . Pittu played the role a bit too smugly and jester-y for my likes. Feste is a “Fool”, indeed, but I felt the character should have been approached more as a grisled veteran who knows the story but is content with slyly commentating, rather than a mocking jester who’s silly for silly’s sake. This is not to say that I don’t respect or appreciate the work Pittu did; if I had gone to Central Park and watched him play the character exactly the way I did, I think I probably would have found something to complain about as well. As such, I’m happy with celebrating (and appreciating) the differences in approach (even if I didn’t find it as appetizing as others.)

In all,  the blur that was the past three and a half days was totally worth it. There’s really nothing like seeing live theater executed well, enjoying the atmosphere of a bustling city and catching up with familiar faces.

-MJH

P.S. If you’re reading this Anne Hathaway, call me, we’ll do lunch.

summer part II

Only about six weeks before I head back to Greencastle for my junior year at DePauw…a somewhat intimidating proposition, but a truth nonetheless.

I just got back from one of the most fulfilling weeks of my life (as it usually is) Teen Service Week. Teen Service Week is a week-long service retreat in the city of Chicago, involving teens from all over (Chicago and its suburbs, Marengo IL and even Wisconsin!) doing service and reflecting on how that service matters and impacts their lives, as well as reasons behind that service (why is it needed? what sorts of issues are behind the service being done?).  I served as a Peer Minister this year on the week, my second year doing so, and I had a great time working with my Peer Ministry partner. I think we both learned and grew from one another, and worked really well together, which made the week a great experience overall. It is so inspiring to see a group of young people who enjoy doing service and to see them reflect on their lives and where their faith fits into all of that. That said, this week was not an exclusively Catholic affair. One of our leaders is a member of the Lutheran faith and one of the teens is Presbyterian, so I hope our very open manner of prayer and reflection helped them feel included in our community of service and prayer.

The week helped me create some very solid goals and has made me realized how I’ve minimized the role of service in my life, and how I have taken some things for granted in my life. One of the biggest offenses I feel I’ve committed is how I’ve taken some of the relationships in my life for granted, which I realized fairly early in the week and came fully to light as me and my Peer Ministry partner were planning our prayer for Wednesday night and we found and used this quote from Albert Schweitzer:

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

Everyone on Teen Service Week this week lit (or rejuvenated) my light this week, and for that I thank you. Thank you to the rest of you who are my “spark” as well (hopefully you know who you are at this point).

Now I ask you who are reading this to do two things:
1) listen to “If You’re Out There” by John Legend; it was the theme song for this year’s Teen Service Week, it’s an inspirational call to service
2) go “out there” and be someone’s spark, and thank those who have sparked your own life.

-MJH

summer part I

I realized recently (and by recently I mean today) that it had been quite some time since I had last posted. Given that the semester has been over for almost three weeks now, I certainly have no excuse.

But here we are.

I can confidently say this summer has been moderately productive. I have already been Food Service Certified for the state of Illinois and the city of Chicago (exciting, right?). I’ve read The Grapes of Wrath (which I’ve owned since my sophomore year in high school, so it took me long enough). I’m doing pretty well in my summer class (Statistics in Daily Life). I am actually practicing piano (I know, try not to have a heart attack, geez). And, finally, I’ve started arranging for DePauwCappella again (less frustrating when you actually have time to do it).

Even with all of this, I have been pondering the nature of relationships. It doesn’t even necessarily have to be the romantic kind that everyone thinks of when the word “relationship” is used. I think one of the most interesting (and potentially frustrating) things about our relationships is the kind of dynamic that we establish or find ourselves in during the course of that relationship.

This crossed my mind as I made my bed this evening and turned on the radio. An old Billy Dean song (yes, country music, eye-roll, are we done now?) was playing and the lyrics go like this:

So let’s leave it alone, ’cause we can’t see eye to eye.
There ain’t no good guys, there ain’t no bad guys.
There’s only you and me and we just disagree.

And, besides its gratuitous use of the word “ain’t”, there’s a fair amount of wisdom there. Even though people may not agree with one another all the time, that doesn’t make them friends any less. A disagreement about anything shouldn’t lessen the foundation that has been built between those two people. If one of those two people doesn’t realize what’s there, or sees it in terms of “good guys” and “bad guys”, that relationship is doomed.

However, beyond that, the dynamic of that relationship needs to be thought of as well. If one person is always giving of themselves, or thinks of it in terms of what the other person’s not doing, the value of that relationship is diminished because the relationship isn’t being appreciated for what it is, but, rather, for what it is not. Certainly, it’s absurd to say that one should have no expectations for a relationship, because, whether we admit it or not, we all have expectations. The people who say they don’t have expectations for anything have probably faced a fair amount of disappointment, and would rather think they have no expectations than admit that they haven’t had the best of luck with their expectations.

But, indeed, relationships are a complicated matter. The only single thing I can offer up about relationships that makes any sense is that you have to trust your counterpart in any kind of relationship. Not just trust them, but trust in the fact that, if that relationship is strong enough, things will work out for the best for everyone, even if there are moments that that fact seems very dim in present light.

As, in the wisdom of The Fray, “sometimes the hardest thing, and the right thing, are the same”.

-MJH