Lycanthropy (repost)

Hey, so a couple posts ago I stated that I would repost some words that I had deleted. I said I wanted to redeem what many refer to as a “highlight reel” of social media that tends to display only the good parts of one’s life. However, I admitedly tend to overcompenstate in that pendulum swing and hardly show the fun, happy moments of my life. So, I decided to delete that post and post some more positive posts in it’s place. The truth, however, is that up until very recently it wasn’t too often that I was truly able to enjoy friendships or family time, and it was through my decision to expose as much as my struggle to people and God that I was able to grow and be affirmed in who I was, where I was at, in those moments that I am now able to enjoy social interactions in person, and truly have joy again, as I described in my last post. To me, God wants us to be in good, joyful community where we celebrate who we are as people and are able to support each other through the struggle of letting that inner True Self show again (or as others might say, becoming more like Christ.)

So I would still like to reshare my two sets of words that I took off because they contain my struggle of becoming who I truly am, and it seemed that some people may have connected with that, and that’s so exciting and affirming to me. So, here is one of them called Lycanthropy that I wrote last summer when I realized my mood can sometimes be affected by the lunar cycles and seasons, especially when I have been eating very clean and am very spiritually clean as well. When I realized this, I thought it was really funny, because it occured to me I’m like a werewolf. So I Googled “werewolf” and the term “lycanthropy” came up. Turns out it is a term in folk tales that describes someone turing into a werewolf, which then reminded me of a +44 song called “Lycanthrope,” which listening to reminded me of HS when I was dating a girl and I realized most of my memories include snow on the ground, which explains a lot of depressed mood! Anyway, there’s a lot more to this set of words, but I’d rather let it speak to you. If you are interested in any of the references in the content, let me know in the comments or send me an email! Thanks for reading!

(extra note: +44 is the band Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker started after Blink 182 broke up. “Lycanthrope” is embedded at the bottom if you’d like to listen)

lycanthropy. the Mystery. when the moon wanes and waxes til empty. visceral. i see the tides i hide behind. get tired of cracking lenses. get tired of making friends with, enemies. yes this is the life to me. but why so serious? joy twisted with tragedy. cant love or live without taking a risk. without jumping off a cliff, without believing poetry, screaming violently, tearing at skin sleeves and mind reams with dreams of highlights and skylights, the city so esteemed.  i miss the rain. the hot rain in the south. its too good here. good hurts. u crazy. its too safe, secure. somethings gonna leave me. dont act like u dont know what. think. sand beneath the feet. only stays on the beach. # hey theres a tweet. except its also at the bottom of the ocean. gettin drowned under thousands of pounds. all the way down. til there is no sound to be heard above the surface. no secret crowds. no air allowed. but oxygen tanks. shit. I’m sick of it. ..consumed. gotta get it need this to fill that. im all outta whack, cant feel nothing, mindhacked like a macbook. hooked up and cooked up like a slab of meat to eat with a little treat. take another trip to the store. buy another pint of ice cream. buy some more fake sweet drink. drink it up fool. americone dream. wake up you’re asleep. i was talkin about me.




Good God? (Was it worth it? Part 2)

Is there always a goal? Was there meant to be? What’s structure? And who defined it as right? And why?

The goal of being is to simply be. That’s still a goal. So are we conditioned by people to have a goal? Or was that something written in us inherently?

Why something and not nothing? I like nothing sometimes. I like feeling nothing. It gets tiring to care all the time. Even empty nothing about anything is still something, though, so the only thing I can’t be free of seems to be something. Some might call that reality or responsibility, rationality, or even structure. But is it so necessary for those things all the time either? Do we need to define it? And did God create them or are those concepts we came up with? I don’t know. If you’re still reading maybe that’s something that you don’t get either, ’cause sometimes it seems like my thoughts are a bunch of nothin’ but maybe you’re finding something in them. 

Anyway. So why anything at all? I experience joy and happiness, and I can enjoy it better now again, but was it worth all the hate, prejudice, sin, segregation, slavery, oppression, or whatever else to give anyone a chance at experiencing joy? Because to feel joy, there seems a need to have the freedom to not experience it. So was it worth it?

Seems like people connect more where we’ve been hurt than where we feel happy, if I’m honest. And honestly, I feel more alive when someone shows me they aren’t so happy than when I feel I’m supposed to be happy. So who made up that idea of happiness?

If existence is about learning, and the learning we’re doing is more about unlearning, then why let us learn what we must unlearn now anyway?

I want to destruct somedays. Why is that so bad? Is it really even fair to call it self-destructing? To what standard? That happiness standard someone decided? Or God?

Having God with me means I can cope with anything, but why the need to cope in the first place?

It seems like God made this place and set it up so the only way to cope with it was with him. This is not something I’ve just read, I’ve experienced it too, but isn’t that pretty manipulative? I made this place but it’s only bearable with me. Why would I want to be a part of that?

I hear some people say, I just want God to fix this mess, which I get, but why did he make us at all when he saw that we would make this mess? Is there a purpose for the fall? Did we have to fall from grace to understand grace? And is this understanding needed for a better place in the future? Does that mean the fall for his glory as well? It seems like if that’s true, then the Holocaust would also be for His glory, and I don’t know if I can get there yet.

This isn’t a new question. I’m obviously not the first person in time to ask it. But if you if haven’t wondered about it, I find that sad. When I look back I remember thinking this a long time ago. But I just moved on then eventually come back to it because it really never gets answered. People just kept telling me to stop being so negative. Be fun Cam, we like him better. Only be the Cam we like. Don’t be sad Cam. It hurts us too much. I get that. So think about the people I was thinking about then who don’t even have the opportunity to sit here to think about this, write this, and post it. 

Furthermore, did you get confused when I shifted in the middle to a bunch of questions? If you did where did you learn that was confusing? When was logical, defined as logical for us? And by whom? And how much does that serve to seperate us than connect us? And how much does that serve to be a way to punish ourselves and each other for not measuring up to that standard? I find myself creating an opinion for a position for an argument before someone is even done talking. Where did that come from, and why did we feel that was so important?

And finally, why would a good God make a place where any of this could happen? And why would he still make it, knowing that it would?


Christmas – Light in the Dark

In 16 days we get to celebrate the coming of Jesus, God incarnated in the flesh, into our physical world as a man. Growing up, Christmas was an exciting time in my family. My parents went all out for my sister and I every year. We got stockings stuffed to the brim, we got our custom Christmas plates (painted with our names by our Mom Mom Allen) filled with cookies and candy, on Christmas Eve we opened our gifts from relatives and family members, except for the gifts my sister and I had bought each other. Those were saved until morning, when we would usually wake up really early to sit shivering by the magical glow of the Christmas tree lights while opening our stockings, eating the snacks off our Christmas plates that Santa had filled up, and staring with wonder at the new appearance of Santa gifts that seemed to magically appear overnight, wrapped in our own special wrapping paper. Some years, there were even scavenger hunts to find all the pieces of a big gift, like when I got my first set of golf clubs. And even leading up to Christmas my mom would use a little Christmas mailbox sometimes to leave notes leading us to a hidden gift somewhere.

When I got older, though, the meaning of Christmas changed. Right before Christmas of 2013, I had gone through my darkest season, where I lost complete hope of ever being happy again. In that “death” I felt God catch me, yell that He was not done with me in a huge, infinitely compassionate voice, then I surrendered my life wholeheartedly back to Him, and then began an intense resurrection over the next couple of years bringing me to where I am today.  

As Christmas came closer that year, an observation came to me that has stuck with me ever since. One Sunday before a service at Denver Community Church, I was in the usual prayer circle with all the staff and volunteers. I wasn’t usual for me to pray out loud in that large of a group. But that day, after the intense reality of what I had just experienced, I felt overcome by the words that came to me and decided to take that moment to express them. The words that came were something close to, “I think there’s a reason You chose to come to the world in the darkest, coldest time of the year. You knew that’s when we would need You most in our lives, and it’s a reminder that You will meet us there every time.” I felt a powerful weight to my words and after we ended, the pastor, Michael Hidalgo, said simply, but sincerely, that he had liked my words. Honestly, that affirmation is probably one of the reasons I feel encouraged enough to write this blog.

So, for me, Christmas is now a symbol of God’s willingness to meet us even in the darkest, coldest places (what better, more hopeful news than that??). In that vein, today the church I attend, Flatirons Community Church, let us know that they are partnering with God Behind Bars raise money to buy Christmas presents for kids with an incarcerated parent. We are also setting up two permanent services that meet inside prison walls while the sermons are live streamed to their families at home at the same time. It is so unreal that I am part of a church so willing to go directly into the darkest places to break through (quite literally in this case) the shackles of shame, pain and fear, with the redemptive power of the Gospel. I think the greatest gift you can give someone is to show them they are worth something, whatever they’ve done and no matter what they think of they’re worth. The greatest gift for me, as well, is when I get to do that for someone. There’s not much else that gives me that amount of joy.

So, if you feel moved to give and recieve this gift, follow the link to Flatirons Church home page and click ‘donate.’ If you’d like more info on God Behind Bars, follow the link below that one to their home page. I hope and pray that you do, and please share with as many people as you feel moved to as well. Thank you and Merry Christmas!