When any given person picks up an issue of The Carroll News, the colorful or shocking headlines typically grab the attention of the reader. The performances of our sports teams are rousing, the economic news, compelling and the behavior of the world’s leaders, titillating. The Op/Ed section closes the issue with the writings of some of the editors of the paper.

Some readers might laugh at our thoughts. Others, cry. The mildly offensive, yet humorously-intended words of The Bayer Necessities has been known to bring people to arms. A fresh perspective to the section can be found in the upper left corner of page 18 in “Our View” from an editor of one of the neighboring sections. Then there is me, who you’ve obviously found, in Nick’s Knack. Among other things, I’ve become known as that kid with the mustache in his picture, who writes things only professors can/choose to read and/or understand: a questionable assessment.

The life of the columnist begins with the clever name pun that will become the over-arching name of one’s personal body of work. This is usually a collaborative effort of the entire staff and doesn’t usually reflect the theme or style of the author’s work whatsoever. In Cooney Meets World, Dan Cooney writes about much more than his formative years influenced by the ‘90s sitcom “Boy Meets World.” To date, no one has discovered if I have any knacks at all, excluding those likened to the tendencies of Ambien or delirium.

Being given the privilege of getting a column space is quite the exciting thing. The writer has to fill 600 to 700 words with whatever they want. Everyone wants to be revelatory or funny or both. When given my debut in an “Our View” column, I had a hundred ideas rolling through my head, a hundred topics about which to write, and doing so would change the world. The end of this column will give me 39 titles to my name, totaling 28,274 words. I ran out of ideas a long time ago. I’ve gotten less funny than I was in the beginning. My seven loyal readers have pointed out that my general topics are few in number, typically going conformity, nature, society, Native Americans, nature, The System, nature, repeat. It seems I try to cover my lack of creativity with extreme length,  which will be turned in no earlier than 9 p.m. on deadline night (sorry guys).

In professional publications, the columnists typically take a topic from current events, analyze the situation and give their personal commentary. This style can be seen in our World News and Business and Finance sections. The Op/Ed columns are surely a different breed, deviating from this standard procedure and commenting on nearly every topic imaginable. Some might say this devalues what we write. On the contrary I find this fact to give more value to our oeuvre.

Anyone can look anywhere to find somebody praising Mitt Romney “solving” the economic situation or telling Americans to step up and get back on top in the world education ranks. While we’ve occasionally written on these topics, we usually hit a little closer to home, though not obviously.

Column topics come from the world around us and the things we experience. A conversation with a friend, a break up, a bad performance in school or on the playing field of athletics, or observing our fellow humans as we roam the streets can, at least for me, inspire a myriad of mildly philosophical revelations, not always having continuity. I’ve also named my coffee press “The Idea Factory.”

Writing columns has helped me realize that the things around us, no matter the immediate genesis, tend to follow similar trends of humanity. Though we might think that we have diverse and flexible minds, capable of opening up and absorbing or adopting anything, when one sits down and puts the pieces together 39 times, that person might realize they stick to a certain way of thinking and being.

The Op/Ed columns of The Carroll News might not add to the bucket of commentaries on “important” topics the world faces, like those in The New York Times. Rather, they reflect the Life and Times of every one of us, the things we experience and the ways we live, exhibiting how our generation processes it all. Not as a whole, but as individuals of a greater consciousness.

One might think a zoological topic is atypical of Nick’s Knack. On the contrary, many of my writings have been on the human animal and the “zooification” of our species. Failure to recognize this reinforces many of the points I have made over the past two years. But, if I am writing about frogs, then how could I possibly be doing the reptilian topic justice or coincide their amphibious existence with ours in my typical fashion? I’ll tell you right now, there is much we have to learn from all varieties of these guys, and it begins with their most innately identified characteristic: the jump.

When a frog jumps, I’m guessing that it does not view that act as separate from itself. It simply jumps. For the frog it is a reflex, a way of getting from point A to point B. That’s just what it does. Each hop has a purpose. There is a reason that frog hops which it finds necessary for its fulfillment. The hop isn’t so much an action as a reaction to all the stimuli of life, and frogs do so because they must to survive.

As years go by in a person’s life, it has become customary to gradually acquire more responsibilities to be carried out for the fulfillment of some task deemed necessary for a sufficient or higher quality of living. Since entering high school, then to college, and soon to the vast “real world,” this acquisition has become more commonplace. Gaining more responsibility is a way of showing how well we lived and how much we’ve accomplished, distinguishing us from the rest of the pack. Like the frog’s jumping, gaining a heavier plate of responsibility appears to be innate; it is a reflex to the demands of the world.

As much as we might think our pursuits are stimulated by survival, often we fail to realize how much of our innate needs we’ve renounced. These needs become distinct from our being, embellishments which we are quick to toss away. We are frogs who have begun to think about jumping, viewing it as separate from what we need to survive.

As kids, we ran and jumped and played all day long. It’s just what we did. Only after rules or guidelines were imposed by our parents did we view it as something separate from ourselves. We renounced our instinct to play to make time for this thing called work, thinking of the two as separate actions and devoting a large amount of time and energy toward the consideration of what work we should do, the benefits, the consequences and so forth. Our childhood occupational dreams were not determined by how much money we wanted to make but by who we wanted to be. Ourselves, our work and our play were all one in the same.

Undoubtedly, the world in which we live has much due consideration. We wouldn’t want to negatively affect those around us or ourselves, so the reasoning process is useful. But, this process has produced a lot of personal turmoil.

When was the last time you lost yourself in an action, not viewing it as something separate from your being, but just you being you? When did you react to life, without need for consideration because the action was so deeply ingrained in your existence that it tapped into the most foundational aspects of life that there could be no possible negative consequences? Chances are, it has been a while. If you ask any true master of their trade who is fully satisfied with the things they do, chances are he or she views that action as part of his or her being. When one is released to the mercy of reflex, thoughts, creativity and energy flow, bringing the pinnacle of performance. Any athlete who has done something great has succumbed to the direct purpose of that action. This is the “zone” of focus about which we so often hear.

The frog is not apprehensive to jump because it might hurt itself  or because performing the hop will come back with negative consequences in the future. Jumping is innocent because it is necessary. This truth extends to all actions of all beings. It is when we resign ourselves to the necessities of our being, viewing it as united, that everything is to be gained and nothing to be lost.

The last few months of my final spring semester at JCU are assailing with innumerable new scenarios which I had never before considered would be issues in the closing months of college. In a couple weeks, The Carroll News staff will vote a new editor in chief into his or her position. Coinciding with this change will be the appointment of a managing editor and new section editors taking charge of each part of the newspaper in the footsteps of the graduating seniors.

Having held the position of assistant and editor of the Op/Ed and Editorial sections longer than anyone of the past six years (to my knowledge), it’s unsettling to ponder the time when I will no longer oversee every word put on pages 17, 18 and 19 of the paper; a time when I won’t have to press my mind for ideas every week on what topic to write 600 to 800 words of a column that will most likely be read by very few. In four weeks and two columns, the moustached columnist picture will lose its personal context and be stowed away in the archive bins and file cabinets of the other issues of the past 88 years.

A situation more immediate and persistent, repeatedly kicking me in the face with its energy legs at least once a week for the past several months is the lame duck circumstance of my collegiate running career. The freshman distance squad we brought in at the beginning of the year came into college with faster times in some distances than I had achieved in my three more years of experience. At the Indoor OAC Championships this past weekend, our team’s second-place finish was enabled by many points scored by freshmen and sophomores on the team, while I earned zero.

Aside from quantitatively based achievements, there is no “next year” to which my current training will contribute a strength base. Surely, I can continue to race my entire life. But, nothing will ever be like being on a collegiate team and aspiring to qualify for the national championship or, as I call it, “the great dance.” There are two months left of collegiate racing, and, like congressional or presidential counterparts, there doesn’t seem to be much time to fully harness the benefits from the training I do from now on. Each day, I see sprightly springiness in their legs, untarnished by years of perhaps too much unilateral mileage and too little quick-twitch quality.

Neither of these situations bring about fear for the future of either organization. The Op/Ed and Editorial sections will most likely be left in the quick-learning and creatively capable hands of Grace Kaucic (who I see grow more adept with each issue) and the established skills of Clara Richter, upon her return from Ireland. The cross country and track programs now have runners whose talents exceed those of the current seniors two-fold. There are a handful of young-guns, like junior Chuck Mulé,  sophomores Johnny Honkala, Tadgh Karski and John Cameron and freshmen Pat O’Brien  and Matt Chojnacki, who have many times the focus and drive I have and are more capable of redeeming my vacant captainship at the end of this season than I was when first acquiring it.

Assuredly, such experiences are likely to reoccur later in life when on the job I train a young kid, fresh out of college for the job I might have held for years. Technology will most likely advance without minding the people it’s leaving in its wake, struggling to keep up in their older years.

What is one supposed to think of being replaced, of the world moving on without them? Of this, I am not certain. One begins to question the purpose of their life and things toward which he or she has striven. Perhaps the only comfort to be gained from being superseded is the role one has had in advancing the situation that person leaves behind. The Op/Ed and Editorial sections have gotten more precise and tenacious in its commentary than in years past. The JCU cross country and track and field  teams have grown from a bunch of goons in gold to a formidable force in the conference, region and nation.

Though I feel my relevance in the JCU community is being rapidly phased out, I feel that I leave it at a better point than it was when I came in and in better hands than my own.

It is beyond a doubt that most, if not all, of us have been subject to the tactic used everywhere from college orientation to flirtacious small talk with the object of one’s desire. Asking a person to declare his or her favorite something is an easy, default approach for easing the tension of silence and finding pieces to the puzzle of determining who a person is and for what they stand.

Musicians, food, movies and sports teams are all commonly interesting categories of favorites. Discovering them can bring us closer or farther from each other. We might find that our favorite soccer team is rivals with a friend’s or that a mutual love for shepherds pie and The Lumineers can provide the first connection needed to pursue a potential husband or wife.

Favorites seem great, don’t they? They sure can be. However, upon exhaustive employment of this conversational tool, it can be found superficial or even disruptive to a conversation’s potential. Perhaps you just don’t have much to say about the someone’s favorite book being the Bible, or you could be an atheist, possibly leading you to avoid the Bible reader all together. You could have absolutely no interest in a person who adores the film “Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2” or in utter doubt that such a person exists. Though favorites are intended to engage interest, they can also destroy it.

Asking about favorites is an easy conversational tool because of its objective nature. This raises a problem I’ve always had when it comes to choosing favorites: How can you pick just one? There are so many variables in this crazy life that can influence how we perceive something, altering what our favorite things can be. Let’s take the most well-known list of favorites ever, for instance. Whiskers on kittens can be cute, but not when that kitten is biting me. Brown paper packages can be exciting, like getting new things often is. Yet, that package is not so enjoyable when it contains an agent for a terrorist plot. Snowflakes staying on my nose and eyelashes can be beautiful, but not when my plane crashes in a boreal forest and I’m fighting frigid temperatures to survive. The point is that finding favorite things is very conditional.

Deciding one’s favorite band, song or movie is perhaps the toughest thing for me to decide personally. At a given time, I’m feeling energetic; Animal Collective might top my list. When I’m going through a rough patch, Band of Horses might accompany my battle through things. Or, if things are even worse, I might call up my pal Johannes Brahms. Finding a favorite movie is much easier if narrowed down by genre, but that is even subject to change.

There is a paradox that comes with finding favorites. What is one to do once they (or at least a selection of situational favorites) has been found? There is a kind of settlement that comes with favorites. It is an attachment between yourself and the song, object, etc. The question that many of us subconsciously struggle with is where to go once favorites are established? Though we might want to stick with them, there is an urge within most humans to explore and experience new things. Abandoning a favorite might bring a struggle with nostalgia; loving something for a long time might make one feel an obligation to continue loving that thing, though its place in that person’s life might have sailed away long ago.

The principles of struggle with establishing favorites and finding new ones extends to the larger problems of life. There are things to which we might be attached that we’ve attained over many years, or perhaps that has been established over the entire course of human history. Just as everything that has ever lived has died, everything that has ever had a place has also lost it. Having a continued quest to find something better is never a negative thing. Though fragments of our past might drift away, they will always be a part of who we’ve become, and their absence makes way for a whole new set of opportunities for improvement and enlightenment. Choose wisely.

Though hundreds of Speedbumps have been sent, most of them express similar messages, making it appear that a satisfying life follows from universal truths. Through repeated exposure to these truths, credibly based in the significance of the composer’s significance, one would hope the advice would take hold and make a difference in the readers’ lives. However, continuing along the same systemic path, which society has been following for hundreds of years and from which the common human seldom deviates, puzzlingly contradicts the hopeful goals of spreading important wisdom.

There is a saying that goes, “You can’t win an argument with an ignorant man.” The truth is we are all ignorant: ignorant of our own ignorance. No matter how revelatory any argument or motivational saying is, a person cannot change another person.

People who were racist in the 1950s and 1960s are probably still racist today, no matter how convincing their grandchildren’s arguments for acceptance are. Though we are constantly reminded that there is more to life than money, we continue to pursue it despite the displeasure that constant quest brings. Innumerable quotes tell us what values to have and to pursue our dreams to become who we are designed to be. How soon after realizing the importance of those values are our minds empty of them? Is anyone’s childhood dream to ruthlessly pursue scholastic perfection for at least 16 years while denying themselves sustaining, simple pleasures to chase grandiose, fabricated ones? How many times must the insightful wisdom be argued for before people change their minds?

Though I haven’t done the precise math, my estimates say that a large number of the Speedbumps tell us to do many of the things which we refuse to do; we already believe the current structure exists to make us happy and comfortable. Some may even believe the system adheres to quotable values and wisdom.

My commentary shouldn’t be misunderstood. Strongly adhering to a set of values is a very good thing. Yet, we must adhere to the right things. Determining the what the right things are is a subjective process. On an individual basis, many things are inconsequential. But there are things which are important and for which we should fight.

When it comes down to it, our efforts to persuade people to believe certain things are futile. Choosing to believe an argument contrary to one’s beliefs is conceding to incorrectness, and people do not like to feel like they are wrong.  People will believe what they want; there is absolutely nothing that can be done about this, no matter how wrong their beliefs seem to be. If a person changes it is only because they chose to change. Accepting this reality can help us to bring about change despite the problems human fallibility and the ego bring to the table.

To cause change, the best we can do is present relatable information to individuals. The reasoning process must happen within a person. Just like the Speedbumps try to help guide people to and along a successful path, the things about which we are passionate can be realized by others with the help of our guidance. Through the presentation of evidence, a person must be made to realize that a problem relates to and affects them. Surely, they must be called out subtly to make them realize they are in violation of something very important, but they mustn’t feel attacked; engaging the defensive only sets a cause further back.

Many believe that what sets humans apart is our ability to reason. But, what seems to dominate that ability are the emotions which can paralyze our logic. The trick is to engage emotions which aid our cause. To fight for something, we must not fight something else. We must work with something to change it. All of those Speedbumps are pointless if it is not realized how they apply specifically to an individual and their situation.

T.S. Eliot wrote, “This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper.” While our demise might, indeed be us being crushed to an insignificant fragment of what we once were, it is possible that new beginnings can also come about in this way. Starting with a gentle whimper inside the opposition can bring about a bang of change on the outside.

Condition: Senioritis

Symptoms: Instability, immaturity, apathy, fatigue, inactivity, distractability, ineconomism, revelry, intoxication, sociability

Status: Chronic, Malignant

I’ve spent 16 years in the American education system. This time has brought me triumphs and failures, good times and bad, friends and enemies; it has improved me and worsened me.

The standard time for a person to be in school is coming to a close for me and my comrades, and, like four years ago, we once again fit into the senior scholastic category. There are a lot of great and exciting things going on for us during this time, from job searches and offers to relocating educational pursuits in more specific paths. Despite these standard experiences, there is one thing that unifies 80 percent (in my estimations) of all seniors around the country: a condition called senioritis.

I have been stricken with this disease since junior year of high school. During these five years (some worse than others), I’ve come to realize a great deal about this affliction from observations of myself and others. I consider myself as much of an expert as one can be on the subject, though I don’t care much about it and, until just now, I figured my knowledge and intelligence will be assumed to be immense, rendering me irresponsible for proving this to anyone. Alas, the world at large continues to be ignorant or perhaps inconsiderate of this infirmity just as mental illness was once considered to be brought on by demonic possession. To debunk this falsity I’ve decided to attempt to justify this state of consciousness so I feel more comfortable with my constant flare-ups.

Using one’s education of Latin roots, the word senioritis can be broken down and translated to mean “inflammation of seniors.” Having been around a particular institution for four years, the senior believes itself to be at the top of the food chain in his or her biome. This is never the case. The false sense of superiority can often cause those infected to lead an existence disrespectful of everything from deadlines to federal laws. The senior realizes that he or she has survived the rigors of college up to this point and daily encounters don’t challenge one’s existence anymore so excitement is sought out. Complacency breeds craziness.

Throughout one’s time in college, the academic challenges will be met for the most part. If they are not, one most likely will not reach senior year. The first few semesters of new scholasticism might be exciting. It’s a new environment, a diverse learning experience. The luster of the update from high school usually will become boring, however. It is then realized that academia composes such a small part of existence and is most likely not enough to sustain enthusiasm day after day (for those whom this is not the case, they continuously find excitement in their chosen area of study is right for them. These people are the 20 percent that stay focused and driven all four years and beyond). Later comes the realization that the place of academia in life is roughly equivalent to the place of professionalism later in life.

The sense of superiority discussed above is not always negative. For some, feeling older might compel a person to spread acquired wisdom and care for the younger nuggets with whom they are associated. A weight of responsibility for the improvement of the college experience for those in all stages of their journey might be felt. In my experience, this duty completes the anchoring of the senioritis parasite in the host.

The senior might begin to toss the imposition of frugality out the window. Hell, after being at least $60,000 in debt, what difference will this $10 craft six pack make? The homesick feeling might be remembered, so throwing down $20 for a pizza party at this off-campus house might make these freshmen feel better. Hopefully they’ll remember this and do the same for upcoming generations.

The foundation established by senioritis is hopefully one of relaxation and empathy. The  small place of academics and later professionalism brings one to realize that the people and experiences around them matter most and bring refreshing happiness to each day. Senioritis might be a sign of enlightened determination, a search for a path in life that can make one continuously happy and enthusiastic, rather than a disease. If this mentality is continuously combatted, is the best interest of the youth really at the heart of this system of cultivation?

Keep your eye out in The Carroll News for Senioritis: Part two. Who am I kidding? That will never get written.

I have a very limited skill set, but one of the few things in which I’ve acquired a moderate level of mastery is bipedal travel. The bodies of organisms are the true all-terrain vehicles of the world. No matter the obstacle or the weather, chances are a person can get through it. When you’re cranking your defroster, downshifting to keep your vehicle under control, don’t be surprised if you see me bopping along at a comparatively slow, but steady cadence anywhere or anytime.

With this ability comes a substantial amount of freedom of geographical mobility. A person on foot does not have to respect the barriers of pavement. Exercising my natural given right to go wherever my feet can take me has cultivated my spirit to have a generous level of respect and sense of stewardship for all the places to which I enjoy carrying myself.

Yet, those who choose to limit their explorative capabilities seem to have a lack of respect for we who do not. If they had their way, we would probably be detained in boxes like they are. Our fun would be restricted and never transcend the limitations which they imposed upon themselves.

This Monday, my teammates and I were on a training run in a Beachwood neighborhood. A gate lay blocking the path of any cars wishing to breech the community limits. Our feet were not restricted by the limits of that gate so we went through it. An angry Judi Dench look-alike drove by us with her car, indignantly telling us to get off this private property and eventually calling the police. After a few word exchanges, we left and carried about our business elsewhere. Of course, the land was private and the laws side with Judi Wench. However, we were not disrupting a thing, only using a prime mile-long loop.

To my knowledge, in no Native American language does there exist a word or phrase for owning a piece of the Earth. The landing of the Puritans in the 1600s brought such a concept to the continent. The indigenous peoples struggled to fully grasp this idea. Many conflicts ensued, carrying into the successive centuries, peaking with the Indian Wars of the 19th century.

Though not nearly as extreme, I find similarities in the relationship between the Native Americans and immigrant populations. The lands of the western tribes were desirable to lay railroad track and farm; both are destructive activities, stripping the land of its natural characteristics and imposing the idea of private ownership upon the native cultures who thrived on this land for hundreds or thousands of years. These tribal nomads (not restricted by geographical place) did so by respecting the bountiful sphere which sustained them; the relationship was reciprocal.

We are all citizens of the Earth. The Earth is not ours, we are the Earth’s. Recognition of this fact obligates respect and stewardship for the land we use and share; such is required for survival. Those who revel in the empowering sensations of unrestricted exploration are more likely to feel responsible for sustaining the things which sustain their happiness. Those pretentious  folk, feeling entitled to a private plot of ground, seem to indirectly promote disrespect for all pieces of the planet. When there is a shared responsibility for something, there is increased incentive to maintain it. Losing grasp of this is a huge contributor to the environmental problems we face today.

When we are not respectful of those with whom we are jointly responsible for the most fundamental source of our life, how then can we best care for the only home we have within  lightyears?

Labor Day is perhaps the most slighted of American holidays. It is the perfect example of our gluttonous and sloth-like tendencies on days of supposed conscious celebration. This also marks the day after which one is no longer supposed to wear white clothes in accordance with seasonal fashion rules. Completely disregarding the aesthetic delight of winter whites is not as absurd as our disregard for the economic and social contributions of American workers, which this day is supposed to celebrate. America isn’t what it used to be, and many wonder why. It’s as simple as this: Americans have forgotten about Americans.

Way back when America was relatively unpopulated, Americans had to care for each other. The joint efforts of people helped to establish the nation and make it strong enough to successfully rebel from the most powerful empire on earth, Great Britain. Sure, during our years we did some terrible things, like steal the lands of Native Americans, slaughter millions of animals and our Northern or Southern brethren for stupid reasons. From there, we continued to work together to establish the nation economically, and, up until the 1950s or ‘60s, we were economically strong because we were self-sufficient. Most importantly, Americans were happy.

The biggest issue of the 2012 election questioned how we should restore the economic strength of our nation. I’m not one much for politics, nor do I know very much about economics system. But, I would bet that the key to increasing the number of jobs and improving the quality of life in this country is to bring American back to itself.

Think about images or notions of the American dream. Kids respect their parents. Everybody has a nice home, and they might not have a lot, but they have enough to be happy and comfortable. Kids and teenagers head to the corner drugstore for a chocolate malt, and Christmas presents are classic bicycles, roller skates or a Boy Scout knife. Those presents were quality items, lasting for years. These things have become symbols of golden age Americana. Where did that era go?

The stories I’ve heard of my parents’ and grandparents’ lives growing up illustrate mostly everybody being employed and products being made right down the street or maybe a couple hundred miles away. Many Americans were skilled craftsmen or, at the very least, they played an integral part in the manufacturing of goods, right here in the U.S.A. Things were built to last. These companies grew, though. The few at the top realized they could sell a product manufactured overseas more cheaply than one made here. Not only that, but they could make more money in this way. Americans thought they were doing something good. In the truest definition of tragedy, they forgot about their neighbors and helping them with their livelihood. We’ve all come to suffer the consequences.

To get American back on track, we need to start helping each other out again, bringing our sufficiency back to the our hometowns. Success lies not in quantity but quality, a principle which has fallen to the wayside.

It is refreshing to find that some have realized this strategy and the prosperity that a resurgence in American manufacturing can bring. In the front-range of the Rockies, in Boulder, Colorado, the Made Movement LLC was started.

“Made Movement is a marketing agency dedicated to supporting a resurgence in American manufacturing.” This e-commerce company seeks out the finest products made in America, forming the Made Collection. Amazing things are made in America, and good things happen when one purchases these products. Every item on their website shows how many people work at that given company.  Also, as one buys things from Made Collection, “Boom Points” are accumulated. These points represent the economic impact of each transaction. The more boom points accrued, the better deals one gains access to. From axes, to beard conditioner, to olive oil and oysters, Made Collections accumulates the best of America and encourages Americans to support each other. This is only one example of the projects going on around the country to restore America to its former glory.

Help yourself by helping America.

Those of us a little further inland merely got a lot of rain and wind, with minor power outages, downed power lines, broken trees and the like. I was inconvenienced only by eight to ten minutes being added to my commute, facing a tad more cold and wetness than I typically desire.

While many Easterners dealt with problems similar to Clevelanders, a lot of places had entire houses being washed away and spread out across miles of weather-torn land.

No matter the location or conditions, people were complaining. This is initially understandable. Around here, the grievances were about school being canceled (or not) or the inability to use one’s electronic devices. In the more destroyed areas, troubles were expressed about the lack of government aid and deliverance from the peoples’ shattered lives.

Though I dislike our over-attachment to technology and the situation of towns across the East Coast was dire, I was more disturbed and slightly annoyed by the jeremiads of those whose lives were swallowed by Sandy. Call me insensitive, but the commentary that was contained in those cries for help highlight the very sad condition had by most modern humans.

Let me preface my elaboration by saying how awful it would be to have everything a person ever worked for, all pictures, purchases and concrete sense of place to be wiped from the map. I can hardly imagine the immediate sense of emptiness one would feel.

Days after the storm, those affected were still complaining about no one coming to help them. There was grief about FEMA not being there, more about the shortage of gas and energy. But how long can people complain about an unreliable organization before taking a breath and realizing where they came from, of what they’re capable and what they still have.

In Yogic philosophy, there is an idea of non-attachment. Among its components is Vairagya, which is a method used to acknowledge and let go of attachments, fears and false senses of meaning and identity that distract one’s perception of the true self. Another piece of non-attachment is Abhyasa, which is a way of forming one’s inner compass to direct to a path of thoughts and actions which allow one to attain a state of stable tranquility.

Still relatively stagnant in their actions and mentality days later, those most affected by the storm continued to feel sorry for themselves. The meaning  we found in the inconsistent and nonessential replaced the necessities of life, which mean the most. People were paying for this mistake. Those humans exemplify a mindset that most of us have, though it may lay dormant. We view ourselves as incapable of great things, generating over-reliance on outside sources of constructive power. Furthermore, this producer/consumer society leads many to attribute so much meaning to material things that recovering from their loss becomes entirely more difficult. Memories become so attached to objects that meaning is lost without them. These problems can be fixed by going back to the foundation.

The foundation of meaning in objects can come from an object’s utilitarian purpose or that objects tie to a person, event, etc. A utilitarian purpose doesn’t usually carry deep meaning. If it is lost, it can easily be replaced. Even if it can’t, it’s probably unnecessary anyway. Doing unnecessary things with meaningless objects has become so ingrained in people, they become lost without them.

Long before permanent shelters and grandiose organizations formed to help the world, people had nothing but themselves and their tribe. If a tool broke, they made another one. If their simple shelter blew down, one could be rebuilt easily. All that was learned was stored in the brain; no other vessel existed for the job. All that we needed to exist was contained within us and could be combined with the contents of others to optimize life. This has gotten us through every other disaster since we began. It was reliable and sustainable. It provided stable tranquility in the confidence of our capability to survive. The thing is, this is still true, but most of us have forgotten it.

After days of unfortunate conditions, those affected still had not fully realized they didn’t need all those embellishments, and one’s necessities can be fulfilled by a close-knit community. Having one’s material life swept away serves as a wake-up call. The foundation of the material does not hold. Yet, no matter how extreme the conditions, the things that truly have meaning survive and overcome.

My eyes bounced back and forth from inquisitively watching the “wheel woman” work diligently on the spokes of my wheel to wantonly gazing at the slim, new Bianchi road bikes, craving the exhilaration of speed I felt on the way there.

There were a few minutes here and there when I began to grow a little impatient. Catching myself, I realized that she was trying to enable me and my machine to move faster, more fluidly and have more fun.

Consistent with my bike shop experience, quite often, just when things begin going well, something comes along to mess up one’s flow and rhythm and keeps one from doing what that person wants to do. In such a situation, a person has a few options concerning what to do:

1) Keep going despite the obstacle. 2) Slow down a bit, but keep heading toward the goal. 3) Take the hit. Stop. Work out the problem.

Let’s take door No. 1. Say I kept bombing down inclines, pretending I’m a bike messenger on a mission or Lance Armstrong (minus the drugs). Then, one day, as I’m coasting around a turn or riskily riding around and making drivers angry, the wheel fails, throwing me through the air and onto the ground. That’s not exactly the type of flying I had in mind.

Door two might be more promising. Since afternoon turned into evening when I was sitting in the shop, I could have gotten a little hungry. Eager to eat, I could have rushed the mechanic or spent some money on a base-level wheel, just to get the quick fix. I would get to ride around, go fairly fast and be content. Perhaps it would never be fully realized, but rushing the process and settling for something less than what was ideally possible would hinder my experience and performance from there on out.

Then there is the third portal. I took the chunk of time out of my day just sitting there as the expert diligently worked on my wheel. I just stared at bikes, mechanics, wondered if I could ride the unicycle in the corner, etc.

Over an hour later, the “wheel woman” had done the best she was able to do. In the end, my wheel was as good as it could become, buying me a significant chunk of time before I’ll have to completely replace it, while enabling me to ride as I wanted to. A few bones out of the bank account, and I was finally back on the saddle. I failed to consider, though, that the smooth, lightning fast downhill I cruised down on the way to the shop was now an uphill. Topography is a jerk sometimes.

If door No. 3 is the one you choose, as I recommend, the path to awesomeness is sometimes uphill. It’s rarely easy to get back in peak form. More often than not, when bad things happen, it’s best to go back to the drawing board, start from scratch, and rebuild things correctly, no matter how long it takes. Such things happen for a reason. There is a cause, effect and effect of the effect. Stopping to look at the cause can be enlightening. A future problem can be prevented. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a major obstacle that comes up, but even a little hitch in one’s stride.

As is often said in the distance running world, one gets faster on easy days. Sometimes a little speedbump can cause us to, as JCU Speedbumps say, “slow down, reflect and proceed.”

You don’t need to be a superhero all the time. Knowing when and how to listen to oneself and the messages of the universe can bring us closer to greatness, step by step, than one giant leap ever could.

Despite the greatness of the morning, most find getting up early to be undesirable. Why would one leave the comfort of one’s bed earlier than one must? Being hard-working college students, we all naturally want as much sleep as we can get. Yet, how many times have you slept past 11 a.m. or even 12 p.m. innately feeling incredibly guilty for doing so?

Sleeping is highly necessary for us to function at a high level throughout the day. Not only does it prepare one  for work but it repairs the body and enables it to reap benefits from a day’s tasks. Sleeping late would seem logical if one wants to fully rest his or her body and prepare it to be madly productive for the rest of the day, as there is much to be done. The puzzling bit is that students seem to want to do the vast majority of work in the evening and night, until the wee hours. I must ask, why this is the case? What about working during the day puts such a bad taste in most of our mouths?

When most of us schedule our classes for the upcoming semester, we avoid the dreaded 8 a.m. class. It’s perplexing to come up with a reason why this is the case. Contemplating this fact, one is led to a fairly dreadful conclusion about the apparently rampant pessimism about the happenings of each day, which are several months in the future. It makes sense for one to stay up late, and thus sleep late, if there is an overwhelming amount to do during a day (though I’ve often replied to “The days just aren’t long enough,” with, “There is just too much to do during the day.”). So, by avoiding a scheduled early morning, we are already assuming most days are going to pummel us with more things to do than can be done during daylight hours. That sounds like a fun life.

Humans are naturally diurnal creatures, so it only makes sense that we are evolutionarily capable of doing our best work during the day. This fact was realized by ancient intellectuals thousands of years ago, long before the existence of the work-engulfing society we live in today. The Rigveda is a text created between 3,700 and 3,100 years ago in India. The minds behind this great work highlighted the importance the morning can play in the workings of a person. The text notes, “By getting up early in the morning one also gets more time at his disposal for work as compared to late-risers. Scholars and thinkers get up early in the morning and contemplate.”

Many great thinkers have been early-risers, finding fulfillment and productivity in the early light. Visiting Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello tosses a bucket of the cold water of morning jump-start potential in your face. Seeing TJ’s journals, blueprints, plans, records, thousands of letters, etc. is a shocking experience. How can one man create so much minutely detailed work of quality. Though many things could contribute to this, good old Tom said, “Whether I retire to bed early or late, I rise with the sun.” He claims that in a 50-year period, the sun had never caught him in bed.

Every Monday and Wednesday since this semester began, I’ve awoken before seven to jump start the day with a simple five mile trot. There is a peace of the very early morning unachieved by any other time of day. Being the first to scatter the morning dew on the lawns of University Heights, only being confronted the reverberations of the taps of my own feet off the houses of the city evokes a calm inspiration of the potential of the day. Absorbing the brisk energy from the saccharine morning air as my body cuts through it and its delicate taste and aroma pass my lips prepares me for the day ahead better than any cup of coffee or extra hour of sleep ever has.

Next semester and for the rest of your life, don’t dread the early hours. Awakening with the rest of the Earth’s species puts you in the company of great people of the past and present and allows one to see, smell and feel a world enjoyed by fewer and fewer these days. It is my belief you’ll find greater incitement to take on the day head-first. If it turns out that you find it unfavorable, that leaves all the more morning tranquility for me.

After graduation, however, I realized that dreaming about moving to a new city and actually doing it are two very different situations. I received two job offers – one in Cleveland, and one in Washington, D.C. I was faced with a decision – do I take a risk and move to a city where I only know a handful of people, or do I stay in the comfort of what I know? Cleveland represented security and was, from a practical standpoint, the logical choice. Yet that 11-year-old dreamer in me was still enthralled with Washington, D.C. and there was a nagging voice in my head pounding, “No Regrets!”

There is an over-used, yet poignant quote by Mark Twain that states, “20 years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” I knew that if I didn’t take the job in D.C., if I didn’t take a risk, I would always wonder how my life would be different. To be honest, I was afraid that I would regret my one chance to change the trajectory of my life. And, more importantly, I didn’t want to be that person who lived a life of regrets in Mr. Twain’s quote. So I took the job in D.C.

Now that you are in college, you are faced with a multitude of life-altering decisions. Should you study abroad? Is your major really what you want? Should you go to graduate school right after graduation or spend a year doing volunteer work? Life is a series of risk assessments, and you are the only one who knows what is right for you. But I urge you to use Twain’s quote as your guide when making a decision. You don’t want to be disappointed by the things you didn’t do when you had the chance to do them. Taking risks is scary, but it’s also one heck of a character builder.

Seven years later, I still work in Washington, D.C. and can see the Capitol Building from my office window. I’ll tell you one thing for certain – I don’t regret my decision. I dreamed of moving to D.C. I explored the city and took advantage of everything it offered. And through, it I discovered how brave I really was.

A similar goal can be pursued in a less altruistic way: inspiration through personal accomplishment. It is easy and common to pursue, especially in college, goals that impress others. Surely, the essential motivation comes from personal interest. However, in the back of one’s mind, there is an ounce of belief that the things we do will leave a lasting impact on the people and situations we leave behind in each stage of our lives.

My senior year and the circumstances encompassing it have brought with them many questions of priority, identity and the future. Being the captain of perhaps the best JCU cross country team the school has seen has made me feel like part of something bigger, especially coming from a four consecutive year streak of finishing eighth in the conference. Mine is essentially the last surviving class that remembers the old days of poor training, racing and results. Having witnessed the turning point, I can’t help but evaluate my contribution to this change and wonder where it’s headed.

Though having a legacy is our hope, does it represent any truth in reality?

Having a lasting resonance can take many forms. If one is a scholar, athlete, doctor, businessman, musician, writer, etc., the manner in which each respective form of work is carried out sculpts our impact out of different media. Each have powerful effects, but the ways that they outlast an individual’s presence differ.

An athlete can have statistical records so they live on in numerical form. A scholar, writer or musician’s legacy carries on in their creations. A doctor’s endowment can continue to exist in either the research or developments they make. Or, perhaps, they are remembered only because they have saved lives and those people and their posterity are testament to that doctor’s presence and actions in the world. In the case of saints with incorruptible bodies, we know they were probably very holy, nice people. However, they are mostly remembered today (creepily) for their inability to decay.

No matter how a person is remembered, eventually part of them will fizzle away. Though the athlete, doctor or whomever may have been immensely capable and talented and made much progress or achieved many quantifiable things, what is most often lost is who exactly that person was. It could be that George Washington was a huge jerk. Maybe Charlemagne was a big softy with a weakness for croissants. We’ll never know.

Often, we’re told to keep things in perspective. While a lot of the menial tasks we carry out each day are inconsequential in the scheme of a year or five, it is hard to know when something or a series of somethings is going to have more lasting effects and who our decisions are going to effect and for how long. It is difficult to put ourselves, our entirety, in perspective.

Some might advise to be mindful of everything you do. Make sure you’re never doing anything that could become regrettable. The thing is, the hypothetical scenarios are endless and constantly trying to consider everything would only add to the exhaustion of  life. Yet, being nihilistic about everything isn’t a great idea either. There is one thing of which we can be sure: things we do will have a legacy of some kind. Everything that has been and is today shapes what is to become, so we should keep that in the back of our minds.

To me, there is no surefire way we can go about developing our legacy so we know as few bad things as possible will come out of it. Coming to that conclusion, I think trying to leave every situation minutely better than when we came to it is a good place to start. If it turns out that valiant efforts bring about bad results down the line, it’s probably because someone dumb screwed it up; it’s out of your hands, then.

Part, if not most, of our being will dissipate in the future; this isn’t something to fear. I’ve acknowledged and become comfortable with the fact that the stories of my facial hair, wild ways and lack of footwear will only be passed around the team for four or so more years. With the loss of each detail of a person, room is made for new, notable characters, and give them a chance to leave a better mark than we did. At the very least, we’ll be off the hook for most of the stupid stuff we’ve done.

Education is an important topic among politicians and social reformists. While huge changes could be made to the education system as a whole, modifications can be made on a smaller scale that would make going to school better for eccentrics like me.

Attendance is one of the most dreaded parts of school, especially if a class is at 8:00 in the morning. If I was a professor my attendance policy wouldn’t exist. If, by some miracle, a student could pull together the information necessary and end up passing my class while only attending on test days or to turn in assignments, more power to them! That shows resourcefulness, a real life skill. However, I probably wouldn’t like that person as a person very much.

I find it is important to establish a relaxed and welcoming classroom environment. No one is going to be motivated to learn (except maybe through scare tactics) by an unfriendly professor. Classroom enthusiasm, engagement and discourse are things that can make students a lot more attentive in class. By immersing the students in the material, face to face, they have no choice but to respond or be embarrassed. Going off on anecdotal tangents here and there doesn’t hurt either. Not only do they make material more relatable, but they assure students that the professor is not an intellectual robot, which is the shockingly frequent truth. Learning can be fun and exciting, and if the professor isn’t excited about his or her chosen career path, how can we expect students to be?

In my classroom, many games would be played, and many movies would be watched. Occasionally, class would be cancelled, and there would be class adventures.

Evaluating students is multifaceted and perhaps the most important part of the scholastic system. I might be tempted to do away with grades; ironically,  it seems that when grades become part of the picture, the learning experience is degraded along with students’ motivation being diminished.

Nevertheless, there should be some way of analyzing students’ work and progress in a class. First, homework would be separated into three different parts: reading, take-home quizzes, and fun. Every reading would be in the public domain. That way, students wouldn’t have to blow money on books. Each assigned reading, once printed out, should be no thicker than what can be stapled by a cheap, pocket-sized stapler. Giving students too much to read at once only overwhelms them or causes them to skimp on detail in an effort to complete the whole reading. Take-home quizzes will ensure that students do at least some of the reading. Having small grades throughout the semester will give students the opportunity to recover from bad grades. Fun will be by far the most important part of homework. But, this fun must be quality fun, like exercise, exploring, physical or mental games. Drinking doesn’t count. A student who spends too much time on work is probably only becoming miserable. Surely, they deserve no reward.

Participation is a tad bit more gray than other aspects of scholasticism. Some people do really well at interacting with others, while others are timid and unsure. A comprehensive evaluation of a student, comparing concrete evaluations with interaction in or out of the classroom would be taken. Difficult, but necessary. If a student falls asleep in class, I will allow them to sleep; there is no need to let class take precedence over one of the most fundamental parts of health.

Tests will be challenging, but open notes and with access to all the readings of the class will be allowed. Seldom in the real world will one be forced to do a project without access to all necessary resources. However, the tests will be so challenging that students must actually understand the material and be well versed in it to produce a satisfying answer.

The underlying principles I feel should be be at the foundation of education are inclusiveness, comprehensive evaluation, practicality and enjoyment. Perhaps my scholastic troubles could turn me into a solid professor, if I survived another five plus years of education. I could also be completely off and my classroom would explode with mutinous outrage.

Social media attempts to solve problems of inconvenience, loneliness and difficult professional networking. Reality television tries to bring the “interesting” lifestyles closer to us, so we can experience them and understand what it’s like to live as these people do. Though it seems that the innovations of modernity are evidence that we are closer and more open to other humans than ever before, the truth of the matter could not be more dissimilar.

Throughout history there has been conflict. Early humans most likely experienced just as much violence as we do today, except in much closer proximity. As Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke put it, “Hostility / is second nature to us. Having promised / one another distance, hunting, and home, / don’t lovers always cross each other’s boundaries?” Conflict was necessary for survival.

The old movie cliché, used to comfort (however ineffectively) the soon-to-be victim of violence, goes, “It’s not personal, it’s just business.” While this is intended to absolve the victim from any problem with his or her character, it highlights the precise problem with unrest in today’s world: nothing is personal, it’s always business.

Discord quite often begins when a person or group of people perform an action or actions with their best interest in mind. The scenarios are infinite, however, the consistent failure to account for the impact of a decision or action on other beings or consider the situation from another’s perspective is responsible for nearly every conflict, large and small, to date.

Many enormous decisions are made everyday. There are millions of examples of a few corporate executives getting together for a round of golf and ending the outing by devising a plan that will bring revenue to a business. Sounds great, right? That decision could be to relocate manufacturing to somewhere that costs less to produce goods. The company will make money, but at what cost? Perhaps at the cost of quality; customers will be less satisfied. Or, maybe, jobs will be lost, financially debilitating a community.

A decision could be to mine an irreplaceable natural area. Not only will there be irreparable environmental consequences, but the community which lives in the area surrounding the potential mine will most likely receive none of the financial benefits from the resources mined. All the while, their cultural and spiritual heritage is being destroyed.

There are activists who shake their fists at corporations, saying their greed is responsible for evil, the unequal distribution of wealth in the world, environmental destruction, a failing economy, etc. Much of this is true. The thing is, corporations are made of people, too. There are many who rely on that company for an income or perhaps goods and services. It then becomes very difficult to choose which is the greater good or greater evil and act to increase the former and eliminate the latter.

So, what are we to do when striking a balance between promoting one’s personal well being and the well being of other beings is so difficult? A solution is not impossible. There is a reason The Golden Rule is golden: it is through empathy and consciousness of the impacts of our decisions on the world and its inhabitants that appalling struggles can be eliminated. Mostly, conflict arises from an unintentional ignorance of the residual effects of our decisions and the proximity of that domino effect to all other denizens of this planet.

A massive paradigm shift in human consciousness is required starting early in life. In the words of Wade Davis, “A child raised to believe that a mountain is the abode of a protective spirit will be a profoundly different human being from a youth that is brought up to believe that a mountain is an inert mass of rock ready to be mined.” We need to overhaul our idea of progress. It needs to be realized that it is through symbiotic relationships with all beings that humans progress. This reformation of consciousness is perhaps the nonpareil thing for which conflict or fighting is warranted.

I’ve been around long enough to have earned the rights to consume alcohol, gamble and buy a house or car without a co-signer. Despite these newly achieved freedoms, I’m increasingly told it is all downhill from here.

In the week preceding the anniversary of my birth, I had my first experience as the focus subject of an “old man” joke. In a conversation with a teammate, he inquired if I was in eighth grade in 1999. It took me a few seconds to realize that the underlying message of that quip was that now, as a senior (though the youngest senior on the team) I am, relatively, the old guy. I’ve been around the block of college thrice before, and I am now approaching the death of my youth.

On runs with current high school students this summer, I already began to notice the effects of aging. The spring and pep in their legs, corrupted by at least 8,000 fewer miles than mine, was evident as the pace picked up on the short jaunt. Sure, I knew fully well that my strength and speed exceeded theirs. But, ripe fruit, being sweetest, will soon begin to rot.

With ominous clouds forming in the sky of my life, how am I, like so many before me, supposed to continue on and find meaning in the gradually worsening years allegedly ahead?

There is one conundrum. Why is it that those no more than a decade older than me say I’ve crested the hill, and those in their 40s, 50s or older remark how they wish they could be 30 again?

My generation and succeeding generations have been, and continue to be, instilled with a worldview constructed in the function, values and form of the scholastic structure. To wit, people go to school usually for a minimum of 12 years. Thus, a person is cultivated to be functional in and value a scholastic world which transfers to that person’s approach to the world outside of school.

It is easy to fabricate a world of commerce in the scholastic form; for this reason people can be successful professionally. Even so, it is impossible to reduce the human experience to numbers.

With a numerical societal ethic of the youth, the ways of commerce translate well to the trends of the early stages of life. When we are young and vital, with our strength and abilities consistently improving, the quantifying method works well. Satisfactory results are revealed when children get better at things. When we age a certain number of years, we are able to do specific things. It’s all very subjective.

As time progresses, the trends of human life change. No longer do certain skills improve. Thus, if one analyses the numbers of his life, they can be rather depressing.

The beginning years of  getting old require some time for one’s values to adapt to and learn to interpret the new way things work.

Aspects of life that bring reward are obviously preferable to those that are disappointing. While numbers can bring about either sentiment, experiences are usually not quantifiable, but positivity can usually be derived from them. So, as we age, it’s increasingly important to evaluate the progress and success of a life not by how much, but how well.

After 21 and then 35, age landmarks seemingly cease to exist. Yet aging allows one many opportunities that one might avoid in earlier years. Buying a house, settling down, raising a family all contribute to one’s experience. Age also brings with it authority, and authority leads to freedom. Though one might be settled with a family, one has earned the right to do whatever they want within the law and their ability, not having to bow to paternal rules.

Many think because I am still fairly young, I can’t truly feel the effects of aging. Not every effect of age is personal. Hitting the final age landmark of 21 has caused me to look for the next great thing ahead. At the most elementary level, every day of experience I gain contributes to my knowledge base and each day I have hundreds more pieces of the puzzle, gradually allowing me to construct a more complete picture of the world, its truths, lies, trends and inhabitants. Perhaps, moving forward with this idea in mind, I will wake up more grateful for another day of vitality, not taking existence for granted and embracing the obstacles the universe has in store for me, earning privileges, experience and knowledge with each one that I trounce.

This summer, I road-tripped around the perimeter of the country with John Steinbeck in a truck, called “Rocinante,” and a dog, named Charley. I then hitch hiked with Christopher McCandless to various locations in the Western United States, finally settling outside of Fairbanks, Alaska, living off the land by our own devices. Finally, I travelled the world with Wade Davis, being enlightened by priceless knowledge of indigenous and realizing that the ethnocide taking place is perhaps the greatest human tragedy of our age.

Is it a coincidence that the books I read this summer all dealt with an exodus of some kind?  Having no iron-clad plans to go on any adventures, I was forced, by necessity, to make such  selections to help unsettle my soul and sate my wandering thirst. But why was it a matter of necessity, having such compelling power over my being that moments not spent immersed in the black and white, double- dimensioned spirit of adventure were filled with restlessness and despondency?

Many make a point during their first 20 or 25 years to explore the world and its cultures. The existence of exchange student and study abroad programs gives this opportunity to nearly every young person. As we age, it sometimes seems that a chain grows around us, tethering us to settled lives, often bringing with it more wretchedness than its supposed comfort. In many ways, the nature-denying way we live today is very wrong and causes many problems. It doesn’t seem absurd to attribute stagnant afflictions to the same culprit.

This idea cannot be more clearly illustrated than by Steinbeck,“When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured greater age would calm my fever and now that I am 58 perhaps senility will do the job.” He encountered a strong sense of wanderlust throughout the country and the only explanation for its recurrent presence is that this desire is hard-wired in our nomadic roots as humans.

We are very different creatures than our hunting and gathering ancestors and travel plays a much different role that it has in the past. One much more psychological, but no less essential.

The adventurous spirit of humans brought our more recent ancestors to America as immigrants, in search of a better life. The same things subconsciously motivate us to get out and experience the world. How often do we become captivated by far off lands, getting glimpses of cultures and somehow forming the impression that different way of life, that beach, that religion or those mountains supersede anything to which we’ve ever been exposed? Every people, everywhere has their troubles. Yet, it is the hope of stumbling upon a utopia that keeps us searching.

A comfortable life never brought about many exuberant discoveries. Chris McCandless, though he died in the process, sought to have urgency force sensations and situations upon him. Often, finding that, especially in the U.S. every place and person can shockingly and frighteningly uniform. At the very least, grasping the breadth of the world could remedy our short-sighted tendencies and realize the importance of our place.

A body can feel miniscule and powerless in this world of constants and end up returning to its genesis, never again leaving. Yet, nothing will corrode the soul more than the vampiric draining powers of unanswered questions of hope.

The over-used advice about college tells us that these years are few and are going to be the best of  our lives. The moments we remember aren’t going to be the ones spent studying or in classrooms. The true learning happens in times spent interacting with the real world. While all of these are most likely true, there seems to be a theme among these that is antiestablishment and opposes the structure of college.

My views notoriously call for the overhauling of our societal system. But, over the past few weeks, as I’ve reflected on the departure of the class of 2012 and my own, quickly approaching collegiate mortality, I’ve come to realize the necessity of the unifying aspect of a university.

I’ve spent three years with the current graduating class, obviously longer than any other before it. The closest relationships have been built from the exuberance and hardships of distance running via the JCU cross country and track teams.

Last autumn, the cross country team was of a skill level not approached in years. With this ability came lofty goals, unachievable without the collective effort of every runner. As we prepared for the conference and regional championships, hearing the final, inspirational words of the team’s seniors moved many of us close to tears.

Toeing the line for a race, a runner typically tries to clear the mind of everything to remove the influence of any conceivable negativity and unharness raw potential effort: a very individual and introverted action. Yet, the atmosphere prefacing these events was of something greater than the self. This sense is analogous to the hundreds of miles through treacherous waters which salmon swim during spawning season. They do this together for the continuation of their species.

This feeling was refreshed  before the 10,000 meter run at the OAC Championships this weekend. Before approaching the line, two juniors and two seniors huddled together, and the eldest reminded the others that when the going gets tough, to have fun; that’s why we run.

About 800 meters into the 5,000 meter race the following day, I was instructed to take the lead to help my teammates run faster. Their abilities, being better than mine, I expended all the pep left if my legs as the three of us held the top three positions, until my legs were spent a mile later. Despite my poor-resulting finish, in the end I can’t remember having more fun on the track.

In the past I have written about the freedom of simplicity and nothingness. Rabbi and philosopher Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “Freedom presupposes the capacity for sacrifice. Man’s true fulfillment cannot be reached by the isolated individual, and his true good depends on communion with, and participation in, that which transcends him.” The realizations I have had from the culmination of my running seasons and my friends’ college careers have altered my perspective. The things we do are not glorious or fulfilling because of the actions themselves, but rather because of those with whom they are shared.

Many of the most rewarding experience we have are bad ideas. Drinking too much, acting like an idiot and eating terrible food the following morning are all bad ideas. By themselves, they ruin the body and the reputation. Most normal people probably wouldn’t do these things alone. When one is with a group of friends, though, and later recounts the experiences, the camaraderie transcends rationality.

Famous recluse, Christopher McCandless, who abandoned his family and possessions to experience his idea of ultimate freedom by living alone in nature, is shown writing, “Happiness is not real unless shared,” as he is close to death in a film about his experiences. One can do many things alone. Knowledge, art, literature, adventure and normally unfulfilling experiences are greatly enhanced when one is sharing them with others.

There is a lot about college that many of us are not happy about. Without those with whom to share the misery, complaints and, at times, tears, this discontentment would be intolerable. Something that mustn’t be forgotten is that college brought us all together, through better and worse. The roughness caused by assignments and loss of motivation can distract us from the collective of people and experiences of which we are a part.

Without the tribulations, we would not reap rewards of their binding properties. Revel in them and the recognition that they’ve brought to you the most intimate, consistent and continuous string of paradoxical rewards you might experience for quite some time.

You are part of something bigger. Not necessarily a collective goal, but, indubitably, a collaborative sense of transcendent being.

The commercial is titled “Back to the start” and features a Willy Nelson cover of the Coldplay song “The Scientist.” It shows a pleasant animated family farm raising pigs and cows. The farmer builds a fence, then barn which contain the animals. These buildings eventually transform into industrial buildings that pollute bodies of water and churn out overweight pigs pumped with chemicals. The farmer then tears down the barn to release free roaming cows, pigs and chickens and getting everything back to the happy, sustainable way it started.

I have heard stories from relatives of the way the farming and purchasing of food used to be. Food was bought from local farms and supported one’s local community. The tomatoes were always deep red and the chicken juicy and flavorful.

While I’ve expressed in the past my disapproval of the agricultural revolution, I realize that we must work to improve our current situation instead of dwelling on the ways of the past.

Sure, pasture-raising animals is more expensive, more difficult and produces less than industrial-sized farms. However, it is argued that when animals are not crammed in cages, fed grains, given antibiotics, having their genome manipulated and living in insufferable conditions they are happier and thus healthier. This movement  is spreading and persuading a lot of people to rethink the ethics of food. It is no longer solely about what you put in your body but the quality and care that goes into that food.

Even though people have put together the pieces of the puzzle concerning the happiness and health of animals, most continue to fail to draw the same correlation between happiness and the health of our own species.

Raising happier animals requires them to be raised in a more free environment, closely resembling a natural habitat. In the beginning of humanity we roamed freely on the plains, grazing scavenging and hunting.

Our industrial minds are impregnated with delusions of the glories of being productive. People sit in cubicles or at desks, hunched over computers, uncomfortable, stressed and overworked.

Everyone knows that student that everyone thinks is a slacker. His productivity is terrible and everyone believes he is mostly useless to society. I am that kid. From my experience, I know that we need to get out and roam the plains and mountains once in a while. If not, I’ll just be distracted by my desire to do so.

But, companies are beginning to discover that creating a work environment that encourages freedom of body and spirit cause their workers to be happier and thus more productive and creative.

Yvon Chouinard, founder and owner of Patagonia Inc., wanted his business to encourage employees to pursue their outdoor passions in the hope that they would be enthusiastic about coming to work. Under this principle, the company continues and has been named one of Outside Magazine’s 50 Best Places to Work. The other companies on the list similarly have alternative work environments with flexible hours, encouraging rewards and pursuit of passions. As a result, the companies are not only successful, but the employees volunteer and give back to the community and environment. Those companies realize that unhappy people are unhealthy people. Healthiness results in higher quality production.

Forcing perfection only pushes us further from it. Pressuring the earth to produce only plunders the soil of its richness. Badgering and constraining people only robs them of physical and emotional strength and therefore motivation and productivity.

To continue to progress we must cease to destroy. To move forward in the right direction requires getting back to the start of sustainability of the earth and its denizens.

If happiness is what one desires, then the options are limitless. However, not every choice will bring you what you want. When most people are trying to figure out what to do with their lives, they consult an older, wiser, more respected person for advice. Depending on this person’s background they could tell you a variety of things. In my experience, those who most sincerely have my best interest in mind have told me to do something I love and am passionate about. With the world at our finger tips, and innumerable options, how does one begin to find the thing he or she is passionate about?

I’m not a true believer in destiny in the way that one’s path is pre-deteremined and unavoidable. However, I do find that things have a way of coming together for the better in the end. Though the accessibility of the vastness of the world is overwhelming, it is advantageous to our generation. The likelihood that we come across the thing we are passionate about is much greater without the confines that restricted past generations. It’s a matter of mathematics; things in the world are now separated by fewer degrees, therefore one thing of interest will be linked to another thing of interest and somewhere down the line our passion will lie. If the path of interest is followed, we will be led to our passion.

The marvelousness of a passion is far greater than an interest and determining the difference is quite difficult. In the bucket of options one will collect on a passion-seeking odyssey, undoubtedly there will be things interesting enough to actually practice rather than just learn about. For example, if one finds economics and finance interesting enough, perhaps they will try investing in the stock market. Or, if one is enraptured by penetrating power of literature, possibly he or she will try writing some poetry or short fiction. Still, knowing when the line between interest and passion is crossed can be uncertain.

If one is enthralled by the idea of becoming a doctor, lawyer, engineer, scientist or businessperson then it is likely the path of pursuing that passion will be filled with encouragement, especially from parents. These careers are practical and secure to subscribers of conventional thought. However, successfully completing all of the education and preparation required to become a professional in whatever field you choose is arduous.

For the more independently (Indie) minded people, like myself, conventional careers aren’t that appealing. For some, money might not even be that appealing. Our interests like art, writing, farming, adventure or extended bipedal travel seem like fairly insecure passions which may not even have jobs to accompany them. While this might appear to make life more difficult, it actually makes finding a passion easier.

In that difficulty that comes with working and preparing to get a job and the disapproval of our choices from people we are close to lies the indicator of passion. A passion is the thing that one is continually motivated to pursue, no matter how difficult the journey or how much denouncement is faced.

Finding a passion is an extensive process. It could take a lot of time and be filled with failure and disappointment. Succumbing to this difficulty is tempting and taking an easier, more conventional route. According to Larry Smith, professor of economics at the University of Waterloo, “Passion is the thing that will help you create the highest expression of your talent.” Passion can make or break your life. This isn’t something to give up on. It will require courage and fortitude. But, ultimately, all facets of our life will be more successful if we are happy and without regret.

If our passions are neglected, then who will we be to encourage our children to pursue theirs?

Species interaction is at the foundation of life. Actions generally either have good intentions or bad. Identifying the intention is half the battle. The other half is deciding what to do about it.

A difficulty the judicial system faces is its inability to objectify every action since all occurrences are subject to their context. Unfortunately, things we observe are too often interpreted as if existing in the same context that we do.

In order for those of us who are carnivores to eat, animals must die. The slaughter of cattle, chickens, pigs, etc. is repulsive to some people. Videos made by PETA have converted many a meat eater to vegetarianism by showing the brutality of the meat industry. Images of human vs. animal brutality are censored from (even fictional) films. This is wrongful death.

On Animal Planet, majestic and powerful lions and cheetahs are shown tackling the gracefully athletic gazelle and crushing its trachea with their powerful jaws until death. Five-year-olds watch these shows and they are educational. However, some turn their heads and shriek when they encounter a visualization of death or killing. “That’s so sad,” they exclaim. They see the gazelle as a victim and the large cat as a vicious murderer. But the lion is not malevolent. The cheetah has no vendetta against the gazelle. This killing is just life; an action required for the continuation of species.

What makes the killing for food seem so bad is the miscontextualization of the action. The offended view these deaths from a “civilized” human perspective. Murder is so prevalent that a rancorous impression of all death is ingrained in our minds. This imposition of falsely constructed intentions, emotions and norms to situations such as this cause a slew of false information to be created and spread.

It seems more understandable to misinterpret animal intentionality since we are so divorced from our own animal nature. The kicker is, we misconstrue behaviors of our own species far more often.

Perhaps our intimate immersion in the ways of our species serves to complicate the factors that must be considered when deciphering the maneuvers of our fellow homo sapiens. The introduction of social media only exacerbates this problem. Body language and vocal inflection are eliminated in Internet interactions. There are so many indicators and qualifiers that contribute to determining meaning that if some are neglected, significant interpretive accuracy is compromised.

It is sometimes easy to offer advice on a subject we are separated from. We can see the situation objectively and without emotion. We don’t read too much into things that those involved do. However, the all-encompassing perspective of one involved would lead to a better action in the end, if only emotional distress could be eliminated.

If the number of contexts is infinite, the possible interpretations are of equal number. The unreliability of our intuition is so vast that we might never be sure about anything. What are we left to do if we are so likely to be wrong?

The most secure course of action is defined not by procedure but by technique: do not be hasty to reach a conclusion. There will be more comfort and confidence felt in an ignorant, well-thought-out decision than an informed, quick one. Even though you might be wrong, you worked with the equipment you had and used it to it’s maximum potential. Being wrong isn’t so bad if you did what was right.

Why does this seem to diminish as years pass? Is naivety to blame for its existence or does culture unnecessarily and unfortunately demoralize us to the point where we abandon our dreams?

I remember my senior year of high school as probably the greatest year of my life so far. I was doing well academically, I qualified for state’s in cross country, my social life was great and I was winning a lot at life. I was ready to take college by storm. I would easily take a spot on the honor roll, graduate with a top-notch degree and have the intellectual and professional power to change the world in some way.

I’m sure many of us felt this way: like we were on top of the world, invincible and capable of anything. For some, it might also be the case that these sentiments have changed since our time in college began. The real world closes in on us fast and hard. It is merciless and has little tolerance for idealism without action. The hopeful goals of many are crushed by the pressure to produce from an idea, not just come up with an intangible concept.

Today, the deeds and culture of generations past are both revered and ridiculed. In our parents’ and grandparents’ youth, racial segregation was commonplace and socially acceptable. Women were almost always limited to becoming homemakers. Every generation has made mistakes.

In our rebellious adolescence and early adulthood, we defy our parents. As many people grow old, they get senile and stubborn. Their close-mindedness and lack of adaptation to present conditions, trends and devices is frustrating to us. They seem stuck in a past way of living. Perhaps they still believe in what we view as problems of their generation.

It’s easy to defiantly say with certainty, “I will never become like that! I’ll continue to examine cultural changes and suitably adopt or reject them.”

But, are we destined to become just like our elders? Is it a natural human tendency to revert to the ideals to which we grew up in accordance?

Proverbs 20:29 says, “The glory of youths is their strength, but the beauty of the aged is their gray hair.” As vital youths perhaps we are naive. Our strength makes us feel as if nothing can stop us and anything is possible. As we age and grow weaker but more wise, we might come to peace with our mortality. Adhering to ingrained tendencies might be a subconscious effort to hang on to our youth. Or, possibly we lose the energy to make efforts to constantly revise our ways of life.

The lifestyles and philosophies of some people and religions follow the creed of going with the flow. While I find this to be beneficial when unfavorable circumstances unexpectedly arise, I can’t help but see a better way of living that makes one less a subject of the world. As William Ernest Henley worded it, “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Those who remain physically active throughout their life are able to maintain their health, vitality and strength for much longer than those who do not. This seems obvious. Yet, when it comes to our ideological condition, too easily do we seem to just let things happen. If continuous efforts are made to perpetuate our mental and ideological adaptability, then we might not dwindle to the intolerable old people that scare children.

Likewise, the idealistic mindset we have in our youth can be retained if we not only have ideas but act on them. When we get to the real world, the relationship dynamic between us and our ideas changes a lot. The elated feeling we get when we have a brilliant idea will increase exponentially when we see it come to fruition.

Do not allow your strength and adaptability of body and mind to diminish with age, but keep it alive and live your idealistic dreams! If you don’t, all you have to lose is yourself.

Day in and day out, we, as students, are generally working on improving our knowledge or abilities on a given subject. In turn, our grades will improve. That will improve our transcripts and resumes. Our chances of getting a good job will improve and, once that job has been obtained, the pay will increase and so will our freedom and security to buy whatever we want. This job might even give us opportunity to do something great for the world. Once we have been established we will then procreate and give our spawn the same opportunities to progress.

To assume that humans have the absolute power to infinitely improve every condition of the world is an arrogant claim. Not only that, but we give our species an omniscience that gives us the ability to know what needs improved upon and how to improve it.

For about 10,000 years, humans have lived by these assumed capabilities. While we have made the ways of life less rigorous for the developed world, humanity has failed to realize that we don’t actually have these powers of omniscience. Consequently, we have progressed down a path that has given us more problems than it has solved. Furthermore, the most influential, powerful people of the past and today have and continue to fail to realize this. We are so blinded by progress, that we don’t see that it’s actually pulling us backward.

For example, the horseless carriage seemed to be a great invention at first. It made transportation easier and faster. Over the years it has led to the destruction of the Earth, the draining of its resources and a society dominated by obesity.

The agricultural revolution made obtaining food in great quantities much more consistent and reliable. The idea of agriculture seemed so good that it was imposed it upon people living in places where agriculture is not practical. By trying to develop those societies inequality, violence and suffering have increased.

Now that the world’s population is at an absurdly high level, the quantity of food that can be grown naturally is not enough. Major corporations like Monsanto create genetically modified organisms that are larger and more resilient, equalling more food. Yet, the long term effects of the consumption  of some GMOs has not been tested and could be very harmful.

The Internet brings the entire world to our finger tips and we can learn about the most advanced ideas across the world. Yet, indigenous cultures that have knowledge about their environments that have been gained over thousands of years are being drowned in modernization and the environments are being destroyed. These “primitive” people, who have more knowledge than our most advanced ecologists, are being eliminated along with their oral traditions.

The way of life that has been developing for the past 10,000 years has brought us to a very delicate state. Continuing to mine the world’s natural resources, all the while destroying the very earth that all known life has depending on for hundreds of millions of years is both unethical and not sustainable. Fossil fuels are not necessary for survival of any species, including our own. However, organisms are absolutely necessary for the continuation of life. By destroying the forests, we are only accelerating the process of our own demise.

Though it appears that we live in a more intelligent society, over the past few hundred years, human brains have been shrinking. Though it is unsure what the cause is, some scientists think that our “civilized” diet is deficient in nutrients. Others claim that we’ve domesticated ourselves, which has shown to cause brain shrinkage in domesticated generations of foxes. When we lived in the wild, we needed to be smarter to survive. We’ve eliminated human evolution and inferior genes spread into the next generations.

By attempting to change the conditions of the world, we’ve messed it up more. We’ve denied our true nature and pretended to be something we aren’t. This lie has brought along an influx of even more lies. Most of us have bought into the great lie that how we are living is good for us and there has never possibly been a better way.

Our progress has now encountered the law of diminishing returns. What happens next is up to us. We are at our own mercy.

For millennia, ease has been sought through simplicity. To better understand something we ask that it be explained more simply. There are the eternal questions for which simple answers are sought. The thing is, the reason they are eternal is because in their most reduced form, they still cannot definitively be proven and typically require an extensive justification. Without complex elaboration it is very easy to be misunderstood or appear to have foundation-less thoughts, beliefs or actions.

Commonly, people are questioned about their religion. Do you believe in God? Are you Catholic? Very often, the answer is not simple. You might be a cafeteria Catholic (you pick and choose what aspects to follow). Then you would have to explain which pieces you ascribe to and elaborate on them individually.

There is no problem with wanting simplicity. Living simply is, personally, the most desirable lifestyle. The trouble lies in the manner we hope to attain simplicity. Like mostly everything, the majority of people want things to be easily achievable. Somewhat ironically, it is a difficult and complex road to simplicity.

Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote, “I would not give a fig for the simplicity this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity.” It’s funny that a quote about simplicity is so difficult to decipher. But, in a way, that difficulty parallels the meaning of the quote.

What Holmes meant is that the world we live in is intricate. We must understand the complexity of things before we can simplify them. We must break down things as much as we can. Once every piece of a complex whole is extracted, the simple idea can be identified.

Contemporary culture approaches the goal of simplicity correctly. Using the ENIC was very complicated and inefficient. To improve computers the technology had to advance more, i.e. get more complicated. This new technology, which now resides in our laptops and smartphones, has made the use of such devices much simpler and easier. This hasn’t come without a price, though.

Since it has become so much easier to be reachable at any time by anyone, have access to any bit of information up to the minute and even do work while on the go, we have created conditions that allow our lives to become even more complex! Our multitasking capabilities have been heightened.  The “simple” technologies of today are able to do much more than the ENIC could.

This is where another part of Holmes’ quote comes into play. The simplicity of today’s complexity is much more stressful than before. The other end of complexity is that composed of problems of natural origin, like the complexities of emotions and human interaction. These simplicities compose the true joys of life.

Finding and embracing the simplicities of the world is a life-long journey. It must be understood the universe is made of complexities. Rarely are there easy or simple answers to anything. But, all complexities are made of simplicities. Perhaps the most difficult thing to grasp is the unity between the two.

It’s strenuous to not have the immediate gratification of a simple answer or the ability to pinpoint a singular cause of a problem so it can be solved. However, if this fact of life is accepted, one will be less displeased with such inconveniences and much more efficient at dealing with complexities by reducing them to their simplest forms.

It has been almost a year since the epic Charlie Sheen interview came out where he claimed to have tiger blood and coined the term “winning.” Most thought he was crazy. I thought, “This guy is on the same wavelength as I am!”

Now you think I’m crazy. What’s new?

Winning is something that has existed long before Charlie Sheen. The winning lifestyle was a concept originally laid down by two of my best friends and me four years ago. Since we aren’t internationally recognizable celebrities, only those in our high school knew of this philosophy. However, there have been innumerable winners throughout history. They are the people that have conquered life and become outrageously successful despite all hurdles encountered.

Being a winner requires no special genetic attributes or occupations. All you need is strong conviction and devout belief in and dedication to winning, even to the point of absurdity.

Some might think that winning is the same as being optimistic. While they follow the same principle, optimism is looking at the bright side or finding the best in a situation. Winning is much more extreme. You must not only find the best in a situation but find a way to win, a way to defeat any adversity and come out on top. You must live winning, not only think it.

When you become a winner you will most likely be questioned about your awesomeness by non-winners. It is important to understand that those who are not winners are not losers necessarily. They just aren’t winners and thus, very normal. Losers do, however, exist. It is their choice to be a loser. Take Eleanor Roosevelt’s word for it, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

The most elementary method of winning is carrying yourself like a winner. Everyone knows those people that walk around like they own the world. You don’t need to know who they are or their story, but they radiate staggering positivity and power. You can have this radiance by thoroughly believing that nothing has power over you and that you can own the world.

Sometimes when a microorganism infiltrates my body and my immune system responds (most non-winners call this “being sick”), I deny being sick. Sickness implies weakness and weakness leads to loss. When I deny being sick, I take away all power from the sickness. If one’s mental and spiritual power is dominated, then that person will most likely be defeated. Believing strongly enough that you are not sick will make you feel better and defeat the disease. It also helps to know that many symptoms of sickness are signs of your immune system being a boss and defeating the invaders.

One of the most difficult concepts for non-winners to understand is my most frequently recited treatises on winning: I win even when I lose. Even the best winners are defeated sometimes. When this happens, winners take that loss and find some way to benefit from it. If you fail a test or class, you can win by knowing what not to do again. You can win by not letting anything make you feel like you’ve lost and continuously bettering yourself physically, mentally and spiritually.

I’m sure you’re asking how this all works? I don’t have a definitive answer, but I can tell you that there is a strange metaphysical connection between one’s mental state and happenings in reality. The power of thought is intangible but very real. There is the old saying, “what you think about, you bring about.” If you don’t believe that you are capable then what else do you have going for yourself? Decide how you want a situation or your life to turn out and believe that is the way it is or will be. This is how you win.

Be unconquerable, resilient and confident. Live what you want to become and believe that you are more powerful than any negative force imaginable. This is how you win.

Disclaimer: You should believe you have tiger blood, but doing the amount of drugs Charlie Sheen did does not make you a winner.