Shawn Pfunder

Because I don’t want to be an aging hipster. Because that’s sad and I keep picturing a bearded Jim Morrison drunk in a bathtub in Paris, angry that he has birthday parties to deal with. Because I think about Jack Kerouac bending over to pick up a pen in an unfurnished cabin in Northern California and farting and splitting his pants and huffing and puffing his way back to his bed.

I run because I’m not famous, I don’t want to be famous, but I still haven’t outgrown self-comparison and a mild obsession with writers and musicians and movie stars. I run because aging hipsters aren’t myths, they’re people. read more…

I was running into a canyon. The opening was large, maybe 2 miles wide. As I ran, the trail would cross a dry creek bed, and then cross again, and then cross again. It was a little like the east and west sides of the creek were fighting for attention.

Like most things that fight for attention, both sides of the dry creek bed, east and west, offered the same thing: dirt, sand, rocks, roots, patches of sun, and glimpses of giant red and white cliffs as the canyon began to squeeze into formation.

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I’m  hesitant to share resolutions. First, it seems like it’s very un-hip to have them. To be cool, you’re either supposed to be above this sort of thing (I set resolutions every week, not just once a year, you loser) or resolutions are  pointless (you have a deep, existential understanding that man’s plight–your plight–is really a bullet train to hell and there’s nothing you can really do to stop it).

Still, I’ve been told that if you share your resolutions, you have a better chance of keeping them. Official self-reflection every year can’t be that bad, right? What did you accomplish last year? Are you better or worse? Happier or sadder? More fulfilled or more empty? read more…

Here’s a lesson from my grandfather that I’m trying hard to believe: you’re here for a reason. You have purpose that you may not understand.

Looking back at that sentence I find many things wrong with it. The most glaring problem though is that phrase resting leisurely in the middle: trying hard to believe. Is that even possible? To try and believe?

On the surface it’s supposed to be pretty straight forward isn’t it? Very Yoda. You believe or you don’t believe. I think that it’s like this with most people. Belief is as simple as choosing your pants for the day. Pick them out, put them on, and get on with your life. read more…