I had such a nice template before... only to discover that all the artwork that was used was being hosted on photobucket - which is fine as long as whoever's photobucket account it is maintains it.  Apparently in this case they overused their bandwidth, and photobucket replaced all their images with some ugly message which in turn made my blog nearly totally unreadable.

Here's a pic.

Waybuloo. OH NO! THE CHRISTIAN FAITH IS UNDER ATTACK BY CUTE LITTLE CARTOON CHARACTERS! QUICK! MUSTER THE LORDS ARMY!

Hello blog. I have been neglecting you - much to the disintegration of my sanity, I'm afraid. What have I been doing while I was away you ask? Well, I have been trying to stave off my inevitable identity crisis as much as possible. However, the inevitability of this impending crisis is starting to close in and I'm sure it won't be long now. It seems every time I talk to you lately I'm bantering on and on about who I am and how I'm supposed to find out more about my elusive self. It's all beginning to sound very in-focused and all that, but I figure it's probably important enough to give it some attention.

This is really just a test run of Windows Live Writer so if I'm not too lazy I will delete this sometime.

Here Boy Music Dot Com

Finally today, the new website address is up and running. The new site is www.hereboymusic.com, but you will find it's pretty much the exact same site as this one. www.darylwilson.com will probably remain functional for the rest of the year as well and I will decide later on whether to do something else with that site or not.

A song I wrote called Favorite Part. It will be on my Here Boy album due out at the end of August 2009. And yes, it's a love song.

As always, blogging seems to be the thing that helps me sort out whats going on in my head, and right now there's a lot.

This blog marks my first entry as a "former" pastor. I've been wearing the pastor hat for 10 years and I gotta say, it feels pretty good to take it off. However in the process, life has gotten infinitely more confusing and bewildering and at the same time exhilarating and there's so much going on in my head that I need to sort out that I hardly know where to begin. So really, this blog is more for me than for anyone reading along, but please, feel free. Grab a coffee, it's bound to be a long one.

Let me start with Church, since that's where I'm leaving from right now. This could be a whole blog entry in itself, but I will try to just hit the facts.

I've been wrestling with the idea of quitting the "Pastorate" (what a funny word) for three years. It started when I read the book, Pagan Christianity by Frank Viola. It's an incredible journey into the history of the Church as we know it, and as it turns out, most of what we do on Sunday was birthed out of pagan Roman culture of 2000 years ago. Essentially, Jesus came and obliterated Jewish religion, temples, priests, hierarchy, gnosticism and control, and in his death and resurrection gave birth to a new thing called the Church. New Christians became a movement of believers with no buildings, priests, sacrifices, rituals or guilt. They lived in community, met in secret so they wouldn't be killed, and were focused on one thing --or one person, rather. Jesus Christ. And they grew like crazy, were full of life and love, gave and shared everything and lived in true community and freedom from religion, freedom from man, freedom from fear, freedom from losing everything. They had such a revelation of what it was to know Christ that they needed nothing else. He was literally their first love. Oh, and they wrote the New Testament too, by the way.

But here's the problem. Things didn't stay that way. Within a few generations of Jesus death and resurrection, Constantine legalized Christianity. He built temples in the familiar forms of Roman Sun God temples, hired priests and and almost single-handedly restarted the forms of religion that Jesus came to abolish. In a word, he made it comfortable. And here we are 2000 years later, none the wiser, attending church, going through the motions almost as if Jesus never even came. The early church that exploded into existence by the transformed lives of a few fishermen who had spent time with Jesus, has become a forgotten memoir in the back of the Bible. We've traded it in for our comfortable religion, which is a mixture of the old and new covenant. We have Jesus now, and are free, yet we choose to live out our faith religiously as if we are still ancient Jews performing rituals to earn God's favor.

This leads me to where I am now. Having discovered this a few years ago I was faced with the realization that as long as there are paid staff in a church, people will expect them to BE the church. The body of Christ is a place where all are equal, and everyone has a part to play in ministering to each other rather than having Clergy to do it all. However, something within us wants to revert back to the days when only the Levites were priests, and all others came to them to be ministered to. Church became a place, rather than an identity. My existence as a paid professional Christian was actually getting in the way of others being able to minister to each other, because I was simply expected to do what others didn't feel they had permission to. Our religion is so structured that we need offices and administrators to keep it running. None of these things were needed in the early church, because they were a movement, not a corporation.

This began to eat away at me. I had caught a glimpse of what the church could be, and I didn't know what to do. I started to run with a passion to see the body of Christ become less "churchy" and religious (don't kid yourself, we are VERY religious) but I was completely shut down by circumstances beyond my control. I felt everything slip away from me for the next three years as I watched our fellowship become more and more religious and methodical. I stayed on in hopes of being part of the change, but in the end, the sinking realization hit me that I really was more part of the problem than the solution. I burned out. I lost my passion. I lived in frustration and disappointment. Don't read that book. Seriously. Unless you want your life turned up side down. Or maybe I should say, right side up.

Looking back, I know that God's timing is perfect, but I wish I had had the nerve to step down 2 or 3 years ago. And truthfully, if it wasn't for the wisdom and discernment of the elders in the church, I might have been too afraid of change to actually make the leap.

So I'm not a pastor anymore. And it is a relief. A BIG relief. Seriously, who needs that kind of pressure? You think it's awkward when the pastor comes around and suddenly you feel inadequate and sinful and all that? Try being a pastor and having the entire community expect you to be Mr. Jesus all the time. It's exhausting. For 10 years as a pastor, I struggled with all the same things as everyone else (and I didn't really try to hide it, honest) but that unseen pressure to have it all together is still there. Likely I put it on myself more than anything, but either way, it's too much. No wonder pastors burn out all the time. Last I checked the average career of a youth pastor is around 3 months.

So anyway, all that to say that I feel like a free man right about now. I've always been a free man, just now it feels more like it. The question is, as always, what do you do with that freedom?

I've been allowing myself to dream. It's weird how we tell ourselves that if we really love something, we probably shouldn't do it. I've listened to all the wrong messages in my life. The ones that tell me that I should be "responsible" and get a safe, dull job as an employee of X company and earn an "honest" wage. The voices echo in my head.... Dreams only lead to disappointment, Daryl. You can't make money as a musician, Daryl. If it's too hard, don't even try, Daryl. Just stick with what you know works, Daryl. Misery is everyone's lot in life, Daryl. Why should it be any different for you, Daryl?

You know what? Fuck that. That's right. I said it. I'm following my heart, and ignoring my head, because my head is full of self defeat and confusion. My heart has always had a true path, and I've denied it because of my head.

Pushing forward.

I enjoy computers and technology, and I've always wanted to have a recording studio. So for the first time in my life I'm actually taking steps towards having a career that I'm so excited about that it feels scandalous. I'm starting a company called Geek Warriors and I'm going to fix computers, set up networks, make web pages and do all kinds of tech related things. Because I LIKE doing that stuff, and I've been doing it for free for the last 10 years anyway. And I AM starting a recording studio. I already have some gear and a bit of space, so off we go. It'll be pretty modest at first, but as things pick up and I get a few albums under my belt, it'll grow to be something beyond what I've yet dreamed.

So right about now, my head is full of business plans, marketing strategies, financial planning and all kinds of stuff that was previously foreign to me. It makes my head spin but I'm trying to take it one step at a time, and surround myself with people who know stuff and are encouraging me in the right direction.

And at the same time, I haven't turned my back on the church one bit. If anything I feel more free now to love people, because I'm not obligated to by a position or paycheque. You know what? If you want to make it really hard for a person to love someone, give them a paycheque and tell them that it's their job.

I told that to my friend Gene recently and his comment was that it kinda sounded like prostitution.

Ouch.

So anyway. The past is the past, and there are some great memories to look back on, and I know that God is in the Church, even though we've made a religion out of it. There was truly some good ministry that happened - I don't want to discredit that at all, even though I firmly believe that we've been missing the point for 2000 years. The church is changing, there is no doubt about that. It will be interesting to see what happens in the next generation.

As for me right now, I'm just taking one moment at a time, which is good actually, because in reality, that's all we really get. One moment. This moment. No need to fear the future, because God is already there, and we are not. We're in good hands.



Oh. And sorry for dropping the F-Bomb.

For our songwriting group, Paula challenged us to write down a stream of consciousness. This is my attempt, so I thought I would post it here, seeing as I haven't blogged in a long time.

Disclaimer: I've never read someone's stream of consciousness before and I have no idea what it is, really. All I did was write down everything that popped into my head. I will understand if you get partway through and are completely bored and want to stop reading. That's okay. That's why most of this stuff stays inside my head and I don't bug anyone with it. On the other hand, you might like it, and if you do, I challenge you to blog YOUR stream of consciousness for me to read. Actually I DARE you.

Okay here it is, freshly copy/pasted from wordpad just for you.

My Stream of Consciousness.

This is bound to be the lamest thing ever written. My mind is a jumble. A mess. I must correct every spelling mistake. Every word I type sends my mind down a new rabbit trail. Pink rabbits don't exist but when I think of rabbits they are pink. I don't like the color pink, except on my baby girl. Pause. Block. Block of the writers variety.

I hate the color of the walls in here. They are not pink. They are not really ANY color. Just drab - and I tire of staring at it day after day. I would paint the walls in my office if I ever had the unction, but something about this color sucks all motivation out of my body. All the more reason to paint it a new color I guess. I guess. When I say "I guess" I am rarely actually guessing. Saying "I guess" usually means I have just agreed to something that I have no interest in or passion for. Passion. I wish I could say I was a passionate person. A passionate lover. A passionate artist. But I am not. When I was young, passion was killed in me. Now I AM the color of my office walls. Drab. Where did passion go? Is it really dead? Can I get it back? How do I find it? Who killed it? Did I LET it die? Does it die in everyone? Death isn't final anyway... maybe letting something die is discovering the ability to move into a new life.

Words are flowing now. Things are starting to clarify. If only I would take time to think. To actually control my own thoughts rather than letting them fly about randomly like bees in a field. What is up with bees anyway? Why the stinger? If bees didn't have a stinger, what would be different in the world? They would still make honey. I'm guessing that people would still harvest that honey. But maybe we wouldn't respect it the same way. We already pillage our world in every way imaginable, so I suppose that it's only fair for the bees to have some sort of protection. I respect thee bee.

And coconuts. Those things are like the Fort Knox of the nut kingdom. How many people have died trying to get a coconut, or at least injured themselves trying to get one open? Why are coconuts like that? Is it part of the curse? Other food that grows is easy to get into. Like a carrot or a banana. But carrots and bananas are not as cool as coconuts.

The light is shining through the window illuminating a patch of carpet. If I was a cat, I would be napping right there like some sort of self proclaimed royalty. I like cats better than dogs because they are less work. I wonder if cats and dogs realize that they are often lumped into the same category? Would they ever care? Do we just do that because they are the two most common house pets in North America? What about other countries. Maybe in some other country the most common pets are monkeys and chinchillas and maybe they say things like, "Wow, it's really raining monkeys and chinchillas out there" or, "I like chinchillas better than monkeys... last time we had a monkey it kept flinging pooh all over the place, so we traded it in for a chinchilla and let me tell you, we couldn't be happier."

Sometime I would like to try finger painting again. I haven't done it since I was a kid, but I remember it to be almost scandalously fun. All that wonderful messiness. I wonder if it would still feel the same as a grownup, or if I would just be so obsessed with making a perfect picture that there would be no messy joy in it for me. Maybe I could get my mom to stand behind me and say things like "Oh gosh Daryl! You're getting it all over your clothes!" and then I would have the smug satisfaction of feeling like I'm getting away with something forbidden. I can't lie - I am often obsessed with the forbidden. It's more fun to do things that you are not supposed to do. It's human nature. The more stuff is forbidden, the more of an adventure life will be. Growing up, it seemed nearly everything was forbidden to me. It didn't matter where we went, we were most likely trespassing... but we continued anyway, hearts pounding with the excitement of getting caught. Everything we did was likely to be frowned on by some scowly senior citizen or a militant Bible college student. The sign said "Stay off the grass" So we would lay down next to the sign in the grass with books open pretending to study. Dad said "Don't ever let me catch you in the arcade" so we went as often as we could. "Don't drink!" Hmmmm.... sounds like fun! "Don't smoke!" Yeah. Uh-huh. Right.

I also broke into the recycling depot in the middle of the night. A few times, actually. Is it considered stealing to take things that were going to be destroyed anyway? How can a boy resist stacks and stacks of unread magazines with just the covers ripped off? It's a gold mine on it's way to destruction... should I not save some of it to be read? I mean, gosh, there were video game magazines in there! Not to mention the odd girly magazine- the ultimate in forbiddenness to a young lad. I can justify nearly anything. At least I used to be able to. I'm not a kid anymore and now the "responsible adult" in me usually wins over the boyish irresponsibility. When you are a kid, responsibility sounds like a bad word, but the truth is, that as an adult, responsibility is kind of fun.

I'm being interrupted now. I'm always being interrupted it seems. Sometimes it's okay because what I'm doing is not always the most important thing. Sometimes, though, I need to learn to just shut the door and hang up the sign that says, "go away I'm actually not interested in being disturbed thank-you-very-much." This was a pointless interruption this time, so I rudely kept typing and just grunted half-hearted affirmations to ward off the interrupter.

This brings up the idea of boundaries again. Boundaries are so much more than being able to say "No" to someone or something, although that is a part of it. Boundaries are about knowing yourself. Knowing who you are so that you can put proper barriers up to contain yourself. A person with no boundaries has no personality. They absorb other people personalities in hopes of acceptance and can change in a flash as different people come and go from their space. I know, because I am/was a person with no boundaries. I'm working on it now. I have what I think of as passive boundaries. For instance, Call Display on my phone. If I don't want to talk to the person calling, I don't answer the phone. I also just shut the door of my office if I don't want to be disturbed. Rather than just telling people that I am busy or saying "Please can we set up a time to talk about this later" I just shut the door. Or I avoid contact. All very passive things. I'm working on getting to the place where I can actually say to a person "Now is not a good time." I'm still a bit worried about offending people, but that's changing too. People with no boundaries are afraid that if they were to develop boundaries then no one would like them. But it's the opposite that's true. People like people who have boundaries. They are solid. They are knowable. They are comfortable in their own skin. They know who they are and people know how to "be" around them.

I've just been noticing how my stream of consciousness went from being random and chaotic to being somewhat more focused and purposeful. The randomness of thoughts in my head seemed to slowly align and now I feel like I have more control over my thoughts. Like the bees are in the hive, rather than in the field.

I wonder what effect this will have on the rest of my day. Will I stay more focused now and be all productive? Or will my mind go back to flitting about from thought to thought?

We'll see.