Stock Andrew

In fact, being okay with being vulnerable makes us stronger. When I was younger, I was plagued with stage fright like you wouldn't believe. Classic symptoms like loss of pigment, beating heart, trembling, and feeling faint were all routine for me when even the thought of having to get in front of people entered my mind. Fast forward to today. I'm in a band. I've sang songs with vulnerable lyrics that I wrote myself in front of hundreds of people. How did I get here? It was a long journey, and maybe I'll write about it in another post, but the short version is that I became ok with being vulnerable in front of people. It was being vulnerable that frightened me. I was at the mercy of everyone watching me. What would they think of me? What if I let them down? What if I'm not funny? What if I forget what I need to say?  The point is that it doesn't matter. When I get on stage, my blood is red, just like everyone else's. If I make a mistake, it's ok. I'm...

I remember reading somewhere that the struggle for historians who study ancient history is that there are far too few sources. Conversely, the struggle for historians who study modern history is that there are far too many. Isn't that a fun thought? So What's All This About? I want to write about my thoughts/feelings/experiences. I want to catalogue them so when I'm old and gray I can sit and reflect upon the snippet of time of which I've been able to partake, and perhaps pass along some of those experiences, just like my grandpa did for me. There've been times in my life that were so impactful I thought I wouldn't need to catalogue them in order to remember even their most minute details. How foolish I've been. At this rate, I won't remember ever having done/experienced anything by the time I reach my twilight years. One thing I remember most about my grandfather was his stories. He was an excellent story teller. He could make the most mundane e...