Death Slap

I am pretty mortified right now. The thought that total strangers will be able to read my blog entries fills me simultaneously with a sense of deep responsibility and the instinct to run away from my laptop. What if my writing makes no impact on anyone? What if I am judged too harshly for my views? What if writing this blog opens up my very own "Pandora's box" of who knows what horrors? I want this blog to be a positive thing. I want to use it as a vehicle for measuring how I am making positive life changes not only for myself but also for my family, friends, co-workers, acquaintances, and everyone else that I encounter. I've had the urge to write and speak about anything and everything lately, particularly on Facebook, but I have realized that blogging, as opposed to just updating my status on Facebook, might help me bring about positive changes in my life in a faster and more efficient manner. Why not join the technological revolution by using the tools available to me? In business, corporations measure success with quantifiable results and they strive to continually increase growth. Perhaps I, too, may increase my own personal growth with measurable results via the internet and my laptop. Could I apply business principles to my personal life? Oh yes. I can measure my positive impact on others by the amount of readers I have at any point in time. Right now I have zero since I just posted my first blog on Blogger. Zero. The magic number. The starting point. What is my starting point? Why am I doing this? Is this merely to fulfill a narcissistic need to have my voice and opinions heard as my best friend opined? Perhaps. Is it because I lack interesting conversation on a daily basis? No. I appreciate the people that I currently have in my life. Don't get me wrong. I love my family and friends to bits. That does not, however, take away my desire to meet and connect with people all over the world. Ideally, I would be able to do that via traveling but since I cannot afford to travel much at this time, I will transcend international boundaries via this blog. That is my hope, at least. Every writer dreams of having readership all over the world. But, unlike traditional writers, bloggers are able to connect with people instantly, without having to deal with editors, publishers, lawyers and all that nonsensensical red tape. We are granted instant readership via the incredible miracle called the internet any time that we post. The internet also grants us instant access to information that we previously did not have access to in such a wildly rapid manner. This is truly miraculous. I want to find and meet people the world over that might just identify with my ideas and make me feel a little bit less neurotic and crazy about what is going on in the world during my lifetime and a little bit more connected to more people. It's about connection. It will allow me to express myself to as many people as possible, but most importantly, it will also provide a platform for others that care about the same things to share their ideas and for those that have questions to ask them. It will promote open discussion. This blog is my attempt at finally doing something about my deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy in regards to doing anything about the very issues that I find important. Instead of letting my own lack of a voice be heard through picketing outside with protesters on any given political issue that I identify with as I have done in the past, I will write about my thoughts and, hopefully, my suggestions on how to improve our situation on any given subject instead of just complaining about it over my morning coffee or via Facebook status updates. When I don't have suggestions, I will ask questions and will look forward to people's responses. When people comment it will matter to me because they are taking time out of their busy days to read my silly blog and give me insight. Two key things have happened in my life recently that have prompted me to begin blogging: the death of one of my favorite cousins and the existence of the Occupy Wall Street movement in the United States. These are no small things. I will blog about the Occupy Wall Street movement at a later date. For now, I will limit this entry to Alvaro. My cousin's death impacted more people than I, or any of my family members, ever imagined and attending his funeral is probably one of my most life-changing events to date. I call it an event because I've attended many funerals and I have yet to attend one more touching, more intimate, and more inspiring. My uncle granted everyone present the opportunity to share a memory with all of us that they experienced with Alvaro. People first got up reluctantly, shyly, walking up sadly to tell their stories. But as more people shared their experiences and memories, more people lined up to speak. It metamorphosed from a wrenchingly sad funeral to an uplifting, hilarious, and inspiring memorial. It was truly a holy experience, like watching a flower burst forth. My cousin touched so many lives in so many different ways that the funeral home had people literally spilling out of the doors and many people stood outside the funeral home listening to the speeches via speakers. I've lost other family members in the past, as well as friends and co-workers, but my cousin, Dallas graffiti legend, Minus Won, is my closest family member to have passed away. He was my favorite cousin. Certainly not the closest, as he lived in Dallas and I in Chicago, but he was one of those family members that you are proud of being related to and happy to interact with. The kind that you look forward to seeing at family reunions. Perhaps you are lucky to have many of those kinds of individuals in your life. I was sure happy and proud of my cousin. He was the kind of relative that everyone wishes they had: loving, attentive, supportive, positive, radiant, bursting with energy, and a true example to live up to of joy incarnate. He wasn't perfect by any means. No one is. But what made him so special was that he always approached life positively, with humor, and he always left you feeling better about yourself after interacting with him. Even a simple greeting, "Yo! What's up, cousin?!" lifted the spirits. He treated children, teenagers, and the elderly with the same love, respect, and excitement as he did with his own family. He was a genuinely warm-hearted person. He was an artist and he found and nurtured his talent from an early age. Perhaps this is the major reason why he was so positive: he found true joy in his heart by expressing himself to others through his art. He was able to connect with others in a way that allowed him to be true to himself, to his family and to his friends. What was so impressive about his funeral was not only the several hundreds of people that gathered to pay their respects but the intensity and passion with which they shared their stories and intimate moments with my cousin to everyone present. When death slaps you in the face you have no recourse but to prioritize: what is most important right now? Things that normally seem so important lose their power over us and seemingly insignificant things that did not seem so important, those little, personal things, are what begin to overwhelm us. His nuclear family said things like "If only we could hear him laugh one more time...if only he would bite the middle of a bread slice or a tortilla and leave it on the table one last time to let us know that he came by to visit...if only I had paid attention to that song he was so excited about that I brushed off while watching a television show I don't even remember now." These little details are what rack the brain after someone's death. What is it about death that forces us to, all of a sudden, sit up, and pay attention? Could it be the massive metaphysical void that opens up in front of us after the initial shock? Could it be the sudden reminder that we are all mortal? People are forced to deal with undealt with emotions when facing death. Death shocks us into awakening. Awakening to the idea that life goes on in spite of death. It starts us on a journey of self-discovery. It forces us to evaluate ourselves and our own lives: "He is gone. What about me? What am I doing with my life? When will my time run out? How can I live my life more intensely? More passionately? More full of meaning and positive impact?" These are the  kinds of questions that run through my head as I face the reality of my cousin's death. Like his close friends said at his funeral, "Minus Won, we are truly Minus One." I love you so much, cousin. I dedicate this first post to you and to all of the Angeles family. May I live all the rest of my days on this earthly plane honoring your living example of love, beauty, and joy.