the constitution of me

It's always easy to start a blog. But to maintain one, is very, very difficult. Since some random, fateful night in April when I decided to start this little experiment, I've found myself with many a good person to talk share with you...

....a U.S. Army Captain serving the last several years in Iraq currently studying for his Masters in History at NYU, an Israeli waiter serving English coffee, a Parisian who served as an impromptu tutor for moi (saving my final grade in French), an American Idol Contestant who just passed the first round of auditions at the Phillips Arena in Atlanta celebrating with a cig, an exceedingly positive shopkeeper at Oakland cemetery in Historic Oakland Park, a cab driver dying to return to Nepal (who ridiculous as the odds are, served as my cab driver TWICE in 24 hrs), and many other interesting people have fallen into the non-sensical path that my life usually seems to follow...

...but life, in the form of school, friends, work, love, food, and all other necessary distractions, moved to fast and I never had the chance to really tell you what they taught me. While I will one day write about these people, I met someone this weekend who has struck me just as interesting as the people above. Not for what he does, or where he's from, but for precisely what he said. He's the first person, outside of my academic life, I've ever met who gave me a homework assignment that I willfully agreed to. He told me to write my eulogy and in return, I'd see the path of the life I wanted to live. It seemed the eulogy he wanted me to write, was not about my future accomplishments but more about my character, those intangible qualities that only I control and that I alone can easily destroy.

While I'm not sure I'm prepared to write my eulogy just yet, I do think this is an exercise worth trying: "The Constitution of ____ ." You write the laws as you think they should be upheld and see yourself as both the defendant, the plaintiff, and the Supreme Court Justice--(i figure if it's a law you've written that you have to question, then you've presented yourself with a case that deserves the highest level of jurisdiction and leaves you with little room to appeal).

It's partly macabre, partly uplifting, and one-hundred precent unconventional. I wonder if writing our eulogy would actually serve us better than writing our wills. If we lived the life we always wanted to lead, I'd like to presume that I already invested and/or allocated my assets wisely. For the memory my friends and family would have of their time with me, would far exceed even the greatest amounts of wealth or worldly possessions I could have ever given them.

Thanks for stopping in.