I met a girl for tea today.

I met a girl for tea today. Sitting on the table was a newspaper filled with news of too many deaths in to many parts of the world, a cup of pu-erh and a smile.

I found myself holding a cup of the mysterious, ancient jade fire and was hardly aware I was awake.

As I sat down she reminded me of the terrible beauty that lay beneath the rubble of Haiti. The pictures showed what appeared to be a city. The rubble looked as if atoms had been smashed at the central square, but the people had ducked and missed the explosion. Most of the people anyways. She said, "I've heard this story already but it's still so sad." She sipped her tea and looked past me for a moment.

I noticed the headline just above the fold "Amid rubble, seeking refuge in faith." God didn't destroy your city and God isn't going to rebuild it, but those people in the pictures will and let us hope that God's strength will trickle from the sky with every brick they lift, I thought to myself. I pointed to the headline as we both rejoined the conversation, but the thought was lost in her sadness. I grasped my cup, shivered for a moment then turned in my seat to save my body heat. My gaze embraced her beautiful eyes, which were shimmering with a softness you could fall asleep to, before exploring the curves of her lips roll smoothly over her words "I don't think I can spend another winter in this city."

Before I said, "Winter is the one thing we've all got in common and damn does it make spring that much more beautiful" I took a large sip of my light green shaded tea and took a breath.

I met a girl for tea today and I may have found love in a cup of pu-erh.

38737, my life is already more profound...

"Well hello, how are you doing this afternoon?"

"Three-eight-seven-three-seven."

I proceeded to type the information onto the screen, then grabbed her one pound bag of cashews and ran it past my register. "That is quite a state to be in, I must admit" I spun back at her.

"Ha ha, now that is a profound statement."

"Well that must be a good state to be in because seven, my favorite number, is in their twice. Seven is also a number that occurs often in religion such as the seven levels of earth and seven levels of heaven in Islam, seven chakras in Hinduism, and the seven days of creation in Genesis."

She looked up as if this hot air balloon of a conversation had lost its air and was plummeting to the ground. "Mine is nine."

As I bagged the few groceries she had just purchased I continued to say, "Nine is a product of 3." She smiled as a laugh came out of her mouth. "When I was a child I often did multiplication tables in my head and seven was always the most fun. It was the oddest of all numbers." I thought about the number 49 and how peaceful it must be, then pushed the grocery bag towards her. She quickly grabbed the groceries as I said, "Well have a wonderful day anyways."

"You have a nice one too" she said as she smirked her way to the door.

Today, I met a girl today.

Today, I met a girl today. I asked her, "What is your favorite tea?"

She responded, "Well herbal or oolong? Green or black?"

I quickly stated, "Well I don't know all the herbals and I really don't know the difference between them all. So just one kind and one flavor."

She smiled, gazed inwards for a moment and calmly shouted, "Pu-erh! It is like a green tea but looks and acts like a black. I think pu-erh ginger is my favorite of any kind of tea, Rishi has one over in aisle 3." She looked up at me, smiled then asked "what is yours?"

Ready to enlighten her with my vast knowledge of tea I said, "Green tea, Jade Fire to be specific."

Her face crooked momentarily as I continued saying, "It's a very dark tea leaf with a strong feel in the mouth. They are tiny little balls that unroll when steeped. The aftertaste is strong but peaceful. I really like my tea strong."

She smiled, a smile reeking of who the hell are you again? Then she asked, "Strong like caffeine or strong like a black."

I quickly interrupted her question to respond, "Strong like I put a lot of tea leaves in the infuser."

The smile that grew on her face was a hearty and genuine one as she chuckled. I bid her farewell, my cash register wasn't going to ring groceries up by itself. And still today, I met a beautiful girl today.

January 9th on buddha's open arms 2010

Now this is productivity

January 7th in the year of our lord 2010

The rush of slipping, sliding automobiles;
of wet feet and wet noses;
in the midst a hush a top the trees.


*Don't let the bluster
Smother your muster!


*When you're in a hurry
stop to catch a flurry.

*A flurry today
keeps the hurry away.


Observations from register 5

Homage letter for Charlie Salmon

“It is hot today!” I exclaimed as the young man kept toiling away at the rear tire of the dirt bike. “Better get used to it” he said as he began to pump air into the tire, “this bad boy should be ready soon.” I couldn't wait to have my first ever go around on a motorcycle. As the engine revved up Charlie twisted the throttle and let go of the clutch for a quick run around the yard, just to make sure everything was working right before he let me have a chance. “How's it running?” I asked as he slowed to a stop in front of me. “She's purring pretty good. You can try now. Hop up on the seat and I'll teach you how to give it gas as you let up the clutch.” Patiently he kept at it as the engine sputtered out time and time again. I was losing patience, I just couldn't get the hang of this machine. “You just gotta be smooth and feel the bike forward” he said as I tried for the umpteenth time to get the bike into gear. This time the rear wheel started to turn and the bike lurched forward. I let go of the clutch and I was cruising as fast as 1st gear would take me. “SHIFT UP! SHIFT UP!” shouted Charlie as the engine roared a high-pitched squeal. “Shift?! How do I do that?” “Clutch, then press the peddle.” I grabbed the clutch but couldn't find the next gear as the bike slowly crawled to a stop. “Dangit, I'll get this next time” I said as Charlie ran over to inspect the bike. “Next time is gonna have to wait, seems my handiwork has done too much handiwork and we got a flat.” Eventually I would figure out the start, the shift, even the driving off a mound of dirt all thanks to Charlie's determination to teach me the finer aspects of handling his dirt bike.


That summer was the first time I had ever traveled by myself and the first time I had truly felt like an independent person. That summer was the first time I'd rode a dirt bike, the first time I ever got up on water skis, and the first time I caught air on waterskis and met the water first-hand face first. It was a magical summer that was the first in a chain of events of personal exploration and it was all thanks to a cousin who lived in another universe called the country and the things I learned from him about being self-sufficient and being the best at what I did.


From then on I took a new perspective into all the things I did. After Grandmother passed, I found myself thinking about family a lot. I didn't know how to pay homage to one my favorite things, until after I returned from a month long backpacking trip in Montana. From then on before each of my cross country races I would take the time, on the starting line, to close my eyes empty my mind and say a little prayer. Run Hard for friends, as I pictured the faces of my friends Joleen and Tomas, Run hard for family, as I pictured Grandmother and all my aunts and uncles and my cousins ending with the memory of that summer with Charlie, Run Hard for my team and for myself. It never let me down as I raced with maximum effort every time.


This leads me to a story that I feel I must tell to explain why I am unable to come pay homage at the memorial for Charlie. As a senior captain, completely aware as the responsibility I had to continue the 3 year rein my team had over the State of Wisconsin, I had felt as though my team was lacking in the competitive edge to be the best they could possibly be. The guys were lost in running certain times and in the fact that we hadn't placed well at most of the meets that season. But I knew that my runners were stronger and better than they believed. So I put a challenge to them, I questioned their effort and I pushed them to work hard and run faster as we completed a ten-mile run. We dropped down to within 20 seconds of their race pace for the last two miles, just so they could understand first-hand that they always had more to give for the team. Then at the team meeting I challenged all of them to forget about running for a time and a place, but instead just to run for someone on the team. For the seniors, for the freshmen, for themselves. But to run their hardest for the team. Standing on the starting line, we were a focused group. As I crossed the finish line, I knew I had succeeded in teaching them what they needed to know about their own abilities. The reason I knew was because I could see my teammates ahead and just behind me as I myself crossed the line in a lifetime PR of 16 minutes and 54 seconds for 5k. I knew we as a unit had found the spirit of what being a Shorewood Cross Country team was about. As a varsity unit, we got together and ran over to the JV team as they prepared to begin their race. We were ecstatic and I put it to them to succeed as the Varsity guys had. As they left our huddle and returned to the line a freshmen, Ben Tyler, came up to me and said with an enormous smile “I did it. I ran for you and I ran so well. I ran for the seniors and I feel amazing.” A giant smile came across my face as I gave him a hug and we cheered the JV team on.


Ben is now a junior and will be competing at the WIAA State Track and Field meet this weekend. He has made some huge strides since that freshmen season at the edge of the varsity team. He set the school record in the 5k last season, a blazing 15 minutes and 44 seconds at our home invite. He took 5th place at the state meet that year and is now a contender to win the 2-mile race at the state meet. His PR is 9:39, but he will go faster. He has told me how helpful I was as a senior to embody the spirit of running and teach him how to lead. I have had the amazing opportunity to be an assistant coach for the Shorewood track team this spring.


When I found out from my dad about Charlie, I was heart-broken. He had always been such a strong and unique person in my life, but no longer would I be graced by his smile. Just hours earlier I had watched Ben, Peter, Emily and a girls 4 by 400 relay qualify for state. I could not wait to see them represent the uniforms I so dearly loved. But the news of Charlie made me realize my priorities had changed. My dad asked me if I was going to come and I had no answer at first. I couldn't quite grasp what had happened and I wanted to see my team compete at the state meet. So I told him to call me the next day and I will have decided. By the time the phone rang the next day I hadn't made a decision and as he asked me again if I was going to come to the memorial I said that I was really torn between state and Charlie. He said, in a very somber tone, I should do what I feel I need to and that he wasn't going to influence my decision. I sat with the phone to my ear as the memories of Charlie flooded my mind, a mix of the images of the state meet and that great summer with Charlie begin to meld into a new thought. What would Charlie want me to do? Then I remembered the conversation we had at Grandmother's funeral, when we talked about our running and he told me to keep it up and to beat his best time. I finally spoke and said I think Charlie would want me to see out this coaching thing. I think he would want me to succeed at it and that can't happen if I am in Texas. I thought to myself about the next year when I will be coaching our Cross Country team and how happy he would have been for me. My dad with a noticeable change in tone said Ya thats good I think thats a great thing I'll let the family know. I told him that I needed to tell them.


So this Friday afternoon Ben will be toeing the line at the University of La-Crosse's new track stadium, where 15,000 people are expected to watch the meet. He knows what I am sacrificing for him and I know he will run for Charlie Friday as he did for me two years earlier. If there is one aspect of myself that I hope my runners will emanate, it is my un-ending compassion. I know they already glow with it and Ben, Peter and the girls will run that much harder for me, but mostly for Charlie. I love you all with the endless compassion I have and I hope you understand why I have decided to see through my coaching. This is just the first time Charlie will have motivated me as a coach, but he will forever leave an amazing impact on my life, as that summer brought me to where I am currently, his memory will take me everywhere I go from this day forward.


Love,

David

Monday Night. I still can't say what I want.

You've passed me by enough times to drive a tractor crazy, and still I haven't said hello. Flashes of laughter race my thoughts as I imagine what could happen. Glimpses of sadness drown my head, I can only hope and wish that I could swim. I dreamt that maybe, possibly, everything I feel might pass to you through a hug. There you go, strolling by. I can feel in your stride, that you feel me too. The possibility of hi and how are you seem as shallow as a ditch, and as far from sight as lake michigan. Still I haven't said hello and still everything that could be won't. Never will the torment cease to be until I just say howdy.

~~~~

My eyes are closed, my mind is open. All conscience flows out my ears and fills the room. The awareness of movement, the awareness of sound until finally the walls cannot hold my internal perception. I see beyond the body, beyond the soul, and I gaze deeply at the birch outside my window. I gaze curiously at the rabbit racing fear as though the terrifying grill of a vicious dog. In through the nose flows suffering, filling my lungs with the dark ominous life. Out through my nostrils rushes compassion, a million miles an hour and a pause to admire the clouds.

~~~~

I dreamt one day, that I could think nothing personal. The next day I believed I could think about everything outside myself. With the next mornings awakening I felt from every cell of my body, that I is no longer there is only us. By the night I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong and I could do nothing. My back, I feel as though I cannot feel. My spine, I know the twists that come should bring something. My head, is filled with nonsense to the brim and an obsession with the future. I dreamt that night, that anything was possible and in the morning I could feel that nothing is forever. Nothing is everything.

UWM Application Essay.

Competing as a runner is as unique of an experience as climbing a mountain. Both are solitary acts, no matter if there is a team giving support, every step must be taken individually. The only way to accomplish the almighty goal, is to simply do. The measure of success is a personal judgment based off an individuals preconceived goals. The ultimate satisfaction comes in being the best, the fastest, the strongest. But these feelings can only be articulated, never purely shared. The only way to share the success of a personal quest such as running or climbing, is to stand atop the summit waiting to embrace fellow companions on a great job. There is nothing selfish about personal success, but there is everything selfless about succeeding alongside friends. A stranger might walk into the arena at Shorewood High School and see four trophies with large cut-outs of the State of Wisconsin and say, what a bunch of winners. Any of the athletes who raised those trophies over their heads would say, what a bunch of friends. When the days of glory have long passed by and the rigors of working a 40 hour week don't shine so brightly on an aging body. There will always be the memory of what sacrifice, hard-work and pure effort meant to a group of young men. A friend is never too far away, sharing in the same idea that humility is the only way. Sharing in the memory of sacrificing the personal conquest of the racecourse for the success of the team always made for a happier end. The long lost memory of simply competing for the sake of competition, and leaving the ego for Psychologists to debate. One last reminiscence of putting yourself only as high as everyone else, because then everyone can walk away with a smile. And at 20 years old now what an event to reminisce about, having been the most important player in, which is always teammate.

There is something special about being young. The world was so much larger, the time to do anything was always just around the bend, and the idea that anything was possible is no longer the past-tense. An amazing thing happens when you forget everything that is you, and you consider what it would be like to be him over there, or her sitting next to you. Not just thinking about what they could be thinking, but thinking like they are. Learning is the eternal pursuit of personal understanding. The process of learning plays the largest role in being a youth. Such imagery as “eye opening”, “ the enlightened spirit”, “the awakened mind” could be used to describe a religious experience. But I use those ideas to describe what learning truly is.

Throughout high-school I found myself annoyed when my fellow students complained about homework. I couldn't seem to understand what their problem with homework was. I certainly understood that the only reason to do homework was when you didn't learn enough during class time and I always learned what was being taught. I knew that no matter how much home work my fellow students did, they all seemed to be missing the big picture. They all seemed to be ecstatic when they got on A, and heartbroken when the fine curves of a C showed up. I was ecstatic when I got an A, happy when I got a B, and a C always brought out sentiments of probably not reading all the questions completely. At the end of the semester, no matter my grade I was happy. I was happy to know that I learned what this teacher was attempting to teach. I knew that no amount of homework could have taught me better, than simply contemplating as I did. Taking the time to think about those really mystifying and transcendent ideas. Eventually having thought enough to apply what I learned to my personal perspective of the world. Homework was never necessary when contemplation worked just as well.

“Support the troops, bring them home!” I once chanted alongside 4 friends on Capitol Dr in front of Shorewood High School. I help up a long banner that said, “No War in Iraq!” Through my veins coursed the passion of a thousand pacifists. All that went through my mind was the idea of Peace, and oh how passionately that peace came yelling out of my mouth. We were 5 twelve and thirteen year olds, and how much we despised the violence out of our control, happening in our name. America the great. We had walked out of our middle school lunch and right to one of the busiest streets in Wisconsin. Through our personal and unique articulations of what peace meant to us, we came together to learn something mighty and beautiful about the free act of expression. The only way to be heard, is to speak. From that day forward I made a point of being heard. I made a point of bringing passion to learning, a passion that created a unique atmosphere of learning. When a class comes together to understand a tough concept, the class grows in a collective way. The dynamic of expressing a personal revelation in universal terms and knowing that those students whose eyes and ears are open, heard it. That is the passion of learning and that is the beauty that always shines in the dynamic of collective learning.

You asked what I bring to the UWM campus, and what I have stated above is one way to describe that. By no means could four paragraphs give a complete picture, and by no means have I done justice to my life as described. My intent is to portray an image of a human being willing to speak his mind confidently. That intent going as far as describing how I find humility in all of my actions, in all my of my being. But most importantly, I am hoping that you see that I strive for meaning in everything I do and the best way to find meaning is to share meaning with another by simply involving them in the whole process. This is effectively the fourth draft I have written, the first three didn't get past an introductory paragraph, and I meant to show you how much learning means to me. How much I know learning means to everyone. In the first three drafts I attempted to sum up in one catchy saying everything that I believe in, but the more complex an idea gets the less pure it becomes. So I will leave you with my eternal and unchanging personal quest. A quest that I developed while happily being in the minority at Xavier of Lousiana in good ol' Nawlins. I strive to have compassion for all living beings. Since I have returned home from the dirty south I have added that I strive to show that compassion through every single one of my actions. This upcoming Fall is going to be the best yet, filled with the most passion, all topped off with the only goal, which is to learn. Thank you for giving me that opportunity.