When I finished reading the Advent thing tonight I sat down on the pew and a wave of tears came out of nowhere. It was at that point that I realized something that had never occured to me before: Any time I preached or wrote something or did absolutely anything on stage at church, I could care less what anyone thought about it. Except for one person-- Kyle. I realize how messed up that is, or was, but that's the dealio. I craved his approval. We all did.
At the first service in Truett we read through Kyle's God in the Movies sermon for "Garden State." Most people cried the most when Kyle's conclusion was read. I cried the most during a clip from the movie. Zach Braff and Natalie Portman are burying her hamster and they are supposed to say something nice about the dead. Portman's character made the comment "I hope you liked me."
And I lost it there. From second one I wanted Kyle to like me. Everyone did. Now I'm stuck with the (probably emotionally unhealthy) question-- what do I do now for validation.
Isn't that what we are all looking for? Oprah said it the other day. (I don't watch Oprah much, but I was home and she was on-- don't judge me.) She recognized several years back that all people really want is validation. I think that's one of the simplest truths about human behavior I know now.
I hope he liked me. I know he did. But that didn't stop my need for validation.
One more thing, somewhat related to the previous comments. That site meter I installed has messed with my head. I check it about three times a day to see how many people are reading my blog. It really is quite narcissistic. I need your validation. But at the same time, the more people read the more pressure I feel to write cool stuff. I'll probably screw up a lot, but I still hope you keep reading.
Last night I watched CMT Crossroads (I've talked about it before.) The musical choice wasn't my favorite-- it was Lionel Ritchie and Kenny Rogers, but their banter between songs was amazing. They had wonderful conversations about songwriting. Ritchie said that years ago he brought a song he had written to a producer. The song had a lot of pretty words, metaphors and similes galore. The producer said it was crap. The producer then asked him what he was trying to say with all of this. When Ritchie told him, the producer said "Then write that."
That's what I'm going to try to do more of. When I try to be cool I usually fail miserably.
I'm going to try and steal a play from Blake's playbook and write about my friends in the next few weeks.
Last thing.... the site meter tells me there's a lot of people form Kilgore, Gladewater, and Longview reading along. These scare me the most, because it increases the chances that members of my family are reading. For most people, honesty becomes more difficult around family, and I try to be as honest as possible. So, all that to say-- by any chance are there other Nash's and Reed's reading along?