Have you ever made plans with somebody to meet you somewhere, but weren't positive they got the message. And so you just sit there waiting, wondering if they are late, or if they just never got your message to begin with. There is another type of nervousness that comes along with that type of waiting. You don't mind so much the waiting. But waiting for someone you're not sure is even coming. This kind of waiting hurts a little.
...And so as you sit down to write, as you kneel down to pray, you join in the tradition of the many before you who participated in the sacred rite of waiting. I sit here with a traffic jam of thoughts in my head that have been experiencing rush hour for the past year... can't move... stuck... stuck because there are many. The viscosity is exacerbated by self conciousness and half-hearted insight...
I am waiting though.

"I want to discover everything. I want to discover…
Why I know what’s right and still do what’s wrong
I want to discover what happiness is
And what value there is in suffering
I want to discover why men go to war
And what they really say deep in their hearts when they pray to God
I want to discover what it is that men and women feel when they say they love"
-Tolstoy(WAR AND PEACE)

Its been so long since I posted something on this here journal page… Sorry to those who check every now and then. I have a couple of new songs I’m pretty excited about. One is called Joshua and the other is called 45. Maybe I’ll post lyrics on the lyrics page… Under “newer songs”, along with the lyrics to Old River Road.
Every now and then I am lucky enough to get some emails from people who aren’t necessarily fans, but seem to have some extra time on their hands. I wanted to share with you this most recent email dialogue I shared with some guy also named Brian Webb. (I get one of these every now and then.)

(from him)
Hey, Brian Webb,
My name is also Brian Webb and I do not support your decision to
exploit and commercialize the use of my name for your purposes of
marketing to the mainstream audiece. Heirgo, I strongly advise you to add
in your middle initial to your name. Your music is a disgrace to my name.
Love,
Brian William Webb
(response from me)
Hey Brian,
I used be really bored and had a problem spending countless hours doing random searches with google
on my own name as well, but I got help... maybe its not too late for you
either. I'm sorry I didn't ever get your permission. I never thought the
famous Brian William Webb would ever find out about a little nobody like me.
Have you sent any hatemail to Brian Webb the Sociologist. I can't stand
that guy with his sole propriety of www.brianwebb.com. Hope your day is a
good one my like named friend,
Brian Edward Webb
(response from him)
Yes, I do have a serious problem with boredom on the internet, and I am currently in rehabilitaion for it. Thankfully, the people here at this instituion beat me senseless and only allow for ten minutes of internet use a day. With their help and God's blessing, I will once again be able to live a normal and productive life. Shit, only 5 minutes left! I must now go for this Brian Webb the Sociologist guy sounds like real tool and it is a neccessity to give him a piece of my mind. Although, I suppose that I have no real reason to be mad at him, or you for that matter, for having the same name as me. After all, it is a damn good name.
Good luck with the music thing.
Brian William Webb

Don’t I have a neat life? If you you liked this sort of interaction and haven’t been to the messageboard page, then go check out what I guy named George is saying. Its amazingly funny. He was becoming my favorite person in the whole world and then… just as soon as he came into my life… he just disappeared… Maybe I’ll start a George fan site… Maybe I could find him… that’s perfect…
oh who am I kidding I don’t even keep up with my own website.

Beautiful Boy,
When I think of you and your life, I think of beginnings. You are a beginner. And so I think of your first steps, your first words, your first grade, your first love, and so on. But this morning I want to write to you about your first skinned knee. Which seems to be some sort of right of passage for boys like us.
What I want to tell you about your first skinned knee is that there will be many more. And if you're lucky, it will leave a mark so deep that you may always remember your capacity to fall as well as your capacity to get back up. So that when you see others fall, you will see yourself, and your hands will naturally reach out to them, as they might naturally reach out to break a fall of your own.
Your mother may want to kiss your knee... Let her. As she helps you heal, know that healing is taking place within her as well. There is no greater gift than to present our scars as humble offerings, that others may learn what it means to love.
And as she kisses your wound, know that she kisses it with imperfect lips. Know that she, like you, is also a beginner. She is beginning from a different place, but she is a beginner all the same. Be compassionate while seeking understanding when you find that there was selfishness in her precious kiss. But in the end soak up the love from her lips, for you will find in the deepest caverns of her heart that she wants nothing more than to love you well.
Resolve in yourself to always be beginning, for that is what we are, beginners. We are beloved children of God with the ability to love what is true and to deny what is false. You will find this is all we really have in this life. These are the only things that can never be taken away. Consequently they are all that we need. May you realize that this is enough.
(inspired by my nephew, Rilke, and Epictetus)

the pusuit of true self expression in the midst of learning what it means to love.
I don't know if anything else matters.

for my broken hearted friend questioning the inherent goodness of this life;
Committed love... for my brother, for his wife, for Amy... all have been heavy on my mind. I have concluded that this is where the meat of life resides. To give and love with a sense of meaning and commitmentment, not because its gonna payoff in the end, but because it is simply beautiful. This is the only thing worth living for. Ironically it may be the only thing worth dying for.
When my heart feels empty, then I know it was meant to be full
when my love goes missing, I can't help but go looking
You have such an extraordinary heart. One that has been blessed with tenderness. If you can strip away any lingering self absorption, which is no easy task, then compassion will so naturally pour out of that tender heart of yours. I know it alreadys does often. What a needed gift you have to offer to the world.
If God is not good, then who cares about any of this... But we care, don't we? And though I know none of this proves anything, it seems to convince me over and over again that, not only am I loved, but it compels me to learn what it means to love the people in my life better and more completely. Its usually more about remembering certain things rather than learning something new.

"Show me that there is meaning in this life"
So I point to everything that is meaningless.
The sheer anguish of a love thats missing
is nearly proof such love exists

When I think of you my friend, I picture you with one toe dabbling in... or maybe not even dabbling, but just looking out over the sea where I am trying to live, giving the appearance that you could jump at any time... while the rest of you is being held back by a bunch of well meaning people, including yourself, who think if you jump in and give yourself over to the sea, they'll never see you again... They may be right and I am frustrated by your pragmatism, but encouraged at the same time. Logic is a neat thing in that it can lead you out of the maze it created. But I will say this... Those focused on trying to create their own sense of "being happy" seldom are. I love you friend.

The prospect for the uneducated poor are dim, but not hopeless. No matter how dim, the difference between between incredibly dim and hopeless will always be infinite, and thats an important distinction to make. WEB Dubois, who lost hope in the plight of the black american at the end of his life, was too wrapped up in his own expectations and his own time frame. Although I'm thankful for his sense of urgency and contribution to civil rights, I think we could all learn from his ideology that left him so hopeless... understandable as it was. And of course it will take several hundred years for the masses to heal...there is several hundred years of hurt.