I’ve had a few days of “rest” and feel a bit more alive. I think there are times when you get so caught up in life around you that you simply forget to breathe and just live your best life. I do my best to keep my focus geared towards the positive. Trying to believe that humanity hasn’t all turned to shit. I’ve been working on not seeing everything, or at least not as closely as I normally do. It’s a work in progress. I have to unlearn things that have been literally beaten into my head. All the watching and studying of humans won’t fade easily or without a fight from my internal guide. I’ve expressed a feeling of terror leaving myself to be vulnerable to outside forces. My job has always been to study and then plan accordingly. What happens if I don’t keep watching? My belief has always been that someone will get the upper hand on me and rip my shield from me. The line of good and evil, the forever battle.
I recently had to reach out to a group of people to ask for assistance. It’s work related, but being that I spend a good portion of my life there, it’s important. When I sat with, or spoke with each person that was part of this plan, I was caught off guard. I was met with genuine care. There was no begging on my part and no hesitation on theirs. It was simply me asking for something and receiving it. I have to tell you that this one set me back for a moment. I’ve become so accustomed to having to fight for everything that this didn’t seem real. I’ve preached for my entire career that in order to get things done, you have to work and think as a team. You have to have empathy and look beyond yourself. Every one of us will have moments of need or struggle. (That is a fact!) We need to find a way to be better to each other. To look at the person next to you and treat them as you’d want to be treated. “Look at the we, not the me.” While it may not seem like a big deal to some, it was pivotal in my day, my world. I reached out and found that there is still hope in this world.
In the end, we are all just humans trying to get by. We want the best for our families, and perhaps a slice of happiness mixed in. Why is that so hard? This moment mentioned above shows me that (sometimes) people really do care. We don’t want others to suffer unnecessarily. While none of the people that I reached out to even knew the whole story behind my asking for help, they still held the line. They still stepped up and showed up. That’s huge in my eyes. I’ve taken the time to thank all of them. It wasn’t just that they went the extra mile, it was because without knowing, they pulled me back from the edge that I’ve been sitting on for a minute now. They didn’t just help get a job done, they made me believe that things can change. People can show up and help one another.
I’m sure that everyone has been inundated with political commercials lately. The never ending political machine continues to find ways to divide all of us. I’ve yet to see a single ad where a politician is telling what they want to do to make my life better. Everything is fueled with hatred, and “us vs them” vitriol. It’s a glimpse, and a reminder of the world that I stepped away from; the one where I was always told to never trust anyone. We’ve even gone to simply calling people or states Red or Blue. Have the powers that be decided to take the direction of “crips vs bloods?” If you don’t pay attention to street life, it’s a never ending cycle of hate and distrust. If someone hurts you, you have to hurt them back. Why? Because somewhere along the way it was determined by someone unknown to be the way of the world.
I had to draw in the comparison to the political arena because it’s relevant. In all parts of our world we need to continue to look out for our brothers and sisters. There is no physical border that separates us. Regardless of your race, religion, political affiliation or your wealth, we are one as humans. I didn’t really understand this as a young man. I looked at everyone with distrust, carried the chip on my shoulder because I was poor. Even looked at myself as trash. As for the man that sits here typing away on his keyboard right now, I’m filled with the belief that we can do better, and we will do better. Funny, isn’t it? That one random act of kindness made me view the world in an entirely different light. Sometimes, it’s the smallest things that make the biggest impact.
A striking split-toned wolf portrait contrasts warm sunlight with cool shadow.
I’ll close out tonight by saying thank you to those around me that stood up for one another. For giving me a glimpse of human kindness. It’s a rare thing, but I think we can spread it. I’m stepping into my day a little less sad. I’m “recharged,” if you will. Perhaps this is a sign of things to come. I’m going to lean into this one and see where it goes. I already know where the other path goes. The two wolves story comes to mind yet again. One side of the wolf’s face is full of light and love, the other is darkness and deceit…which one will you feed?
Thank you for following along on my journey through life.
This is a world that I feel safe in. The sound of my keyboard beneath my fingertips, clicking away at the speed of my thoughts. I come here to step away from the “Real World.” More and more I question so many things around me. I work relentlessly to pull myself back from the edge. I’ve had a good run going for a bit, but can’t seem to shake this nagging feeling of hopelessness. I’ve taken to having nightmares again. Not the reoccurring ones that plagued me for years, but new horrible ones that have me forcing myself awake. Some have been so vivid and dark that I’ve forced myself to forget them when I awake. I can’t seem to settle unless I drive them out of my memory. I find myself sitting in my chair speaking aloud “what is going on?” What has triggered these dreams?
There have been people in my orbit who have disappointed me. There have also been those who have turned their back to me. I’ve encountered those who are looking to challenge my strength. This puts me back in a place of darkness. I find myself wondering why I stepped out of the shadows and revealed myself to the world. Did I make the right choice? Was I better off staying in hiding? To say that I lack the ability to truly trust another human is an understatement. In my mind, there is always an agenda.
Just typing those words holds sadness for me. The constant battle within of child and adult looking for a way out. The feeling of screaming in an open field with no one to hear me. This too is something that I’ve discussed with my counselor on more than one occasion. What is it that I need to fill this void? What can put out the fire of rage? I’ve been told to pray, to look to God for the answers. I’ve looked to God and begged for guidance. I spent my youth praying in my bed for something to change; for life to feel free. The best thing that perhaps was guided by a higher power was the gift of Karla to my life. The one true human who looks at me without pity, without fear. She looks at me with love in her eyes. She looks at me as though I’m the strongest human alive. I want to be able to see myself as she does. I want to look at others and believe that they are good as well.
James 1:12: “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.”
It looks like it’ll be another short night of sleep, but I really needed to get these thoughts out of my head. I was told in an Al-anon meeting that “the length of time that you’ve been sick, is the length of time you require to heal.” Given that kind of timeline, I look to stay in recovery for years to come. As my counselor said “you’ll have these ups and downs for the rest of your life.” I’m trying to grasp that and remember that I need to give grace even when it feels impossible. Believe me when I tell you that I’d much rather be chatting on here about happier things. I’d rather be done saying all the quiet things out loud. I remember some time back writing about “finding my way back to center.” There is so much to unpack in those words. If nothing else, my writing will shed light on the damage that is caused to children that carries into their adult life. It pushes aside the idea that we can just “grow through” things. No, you never grow through it, you look for ways to deal with it so that you can fall asleep at night. It also rings the alarm bell that people are struggling all over this country; only to have others turn a blind eye to the suffering. It’s easy to label someone as crazy or sick. There’s comfort in pointing the finger of judgement at another.
I’ll be heading off to bed now. My day starts early and I need to put on the face that’s required to walk among others. I always look to morning as a fresh start. No matter how bad I might be feeling at this moment, I get a chance to make things right. I think I’ll leave it at that for now.
Thank you for following along on my journey through life.
“I’ll do that tomorrow.” “I can’t wait for retirement.” “I have a countdown clock on my phone for retirement.” “I’ll catch up with you sometime.” “We never see each other, we should do this more often.” “I miss you, we need to find time for one another.”
Do any of these things sound familiar? Have you spoken these words out loud? This blog is not going to be about shaming people for saying these things, I’ve said the words myself. This is more about trying to restructure our way of doing things. About setting time aside for the things and the people that are truly important. We wander through our lives always looking for the quickest way to get through. Speed has become a thing. Push to get through everything. Race to the store, sprint through each aisle as if you’re a formula one car on its final lap. All the while navigating your cellphone, planning the next day of work. When do we just stop and breathe? Why do we want to race through the only life we’re given?
As a youth, we’re all aware that I was into things that were less than pleasant. For as hard as things were, I always tried to find something in the day that brought me joy. In my case, it was more about my own survival, and maintaining sanity. While I felt trapped and had times of serious loneliness, I wanted more. I held onto the belief that perhaps I’d find a way to the surface. A place where the sun would warm my cheeks and make me feel alive. I did my best to find those moments.
When I had reached the point where I wasn’t sure I’d be able to continue in my life, walking the park was the turning point. I’ve talked about this in numerous blogs over the years. It was nature that found me, spoke to me, guided me forward. The trees, birds, the sound of the gravel under my running shoes made me feel truly alive. Made me feel that I wanted to be alive and part of this world. Each time that I’ve stepped into a park or onto the road to walk or run, I’ve wished for time to just stop. To stand still and let me just take everything in. I didn’t want to wish myself through the hours that I’d spend out in the sunshine. I never dreaded the soreness of my body. I was awakened to what life was truly about.
Now that I’m older and at times feel I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes; I still long for the simple things in the world. Growing up poor and having very little did one thing to me for sure. I learned that I was capable of surviving on very little. “Things” are just that to me. My desire for “stuff” is very limited. I’m rich already because I have a home to live in, food to eat, water to drink, running shoes to carry me on my adventures and a wife who loves me. When I tell people that all I really need are those things, they look at me as though I’m an alien.
At one point I felt the need to satisfy a childhood dream. I wanted to own a Corvette. I fell in love with the vehicle at a very young age. I dreamed of perhaps one day having one of my own. Well, that day came. I saved my money and purchased a bright yellow Corvette. The excitement of receiving the vehicle was amazing. That feeling faded out quickly and it became just something to wash and park. I began to seek happiness in other vehicles, not knowing that seeking happiness in things was pointless. I sat in my driveway one day looking at my latest “toy car” and wondered how I’d gone off track. I knew inside of me that my happiness was not derived from this vehicle. I felt the most complete spending time wandering. Sitting with my wife in our driveway taking in the sunshine and watching our dogs nap in the grass. Those are the moments that I always wish to slow. I never wish them away or think of the next day. I want to remain in the moment.
I went out this morning on my long walk Saturday and took in all the sights, sounds and smells as I walked. I wanted nothing more than to be at peace. The chaos from the week of work was now behind me and I just wanted to breathe. I cherish these times even more now that I’m “older.” I think about how much more time I have left and feel as though I still have so much yet to see. I have so much more to say, and to write about. I keep asking for time to stand still for me. I’d read an article about the most common thing said by people who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. They all said ” I thought I’d have more time.” While so many take for granted the moments that they’re gifted, there are others who just want to have some of that time back.
I remember having a conversation with my sister Gini after she’d been diagnosed and knew her time was limited. I asked what she wanted out of the time she had left. She wanted to see her daughter graduate from nursing school, get married and have children. When faced with this illness her wish was simply to see her child live. She wanted time to see these things.
I had a discussion with a co-worker the other day that prompted part of this blog. The discussion was based on the question “what would you do if you were told you were dying?” All the things that you’ve planned for. All of the times that you’ve raced through your life. You’re now faced with a very limited amount of time. There’s so much to unpack with that, but I’m certain that I’d want to do all of the things that I love and enjoy now. I’d keep writing until my fingers were unable. I’d take my walks and see everything that I can. I’d love those around me with everything that I am, as I do now. I’d say the things that need to be said and leave nothing out. I’d try with all my might to slow everything down and just breathe.
Please, don’t wish your life away. Time matters, words matter, people around you matter. Take the time to slow everything down. Make yourself just stop when you feel the push of the world. Really see what is around you. I’ve talked about this so many times in my blogs. There is so much out there just waiting to be discovered, you simply need to open your eyes. My wish for all of you today is to slow things down…and breathe.
Thank you so much for following along on my journey.
complete trust or confidence in someone or something:”this restores one’s faith in politicians”
2. strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof
I’ve wanted to write about faith and my brush with religion for so many years. Discussions about religious beliefs can at times become heated, or misunderstood. I’ve not held off writing about it because of that. My reasons are more my own. My own life experiences with the idea of faith as I’ve listed them above. Having faith in another human is problematic for me. Having faith that there is a higher being opens up Pandora’s box. I fully believe that anyone should be allowed to practice what fits their life. They should also be free to follow it. I don’t judge anyone for their beliefs. I do however judge based on their actions.
I have shared enough about my experiences with my boss from my past life. We all know he was a pretty horrible person. For anyone that hasn’t read or followed along, I crossed paths with a man as a tween. He was a large scale drug dealer. He found his way into my life because of his friendship with my father. He took the time to groom me and mold me into a heartless voyeur. I was trained to pay close attention to other humans in order to exploit their weaknesses. I’ve covered this extensively in my blogs and I’m still working on a book to tell the full, unedited story.
Being in this world, I learned quickly never trust. Once again, it was a trained behavior. At every turn I was told that I was to “trust no one.” In the world of darkness, there can be no trust, no faith. I learned to walk alone, in the darkness and question everything, and everyone. The only one I wasn’t allowed to question was the boss. I must put my full faith, and trust into this person. For they are the only one that can see me through this world. That…is what I was made to believe.
As for the religious part of this. This same man sold drugs and harmed people. He looked upon females as a commodity. Yet, he wore a cross on his chest daily. I often wondered to myself what kind of relationship he had with God. What was it that he was seeking and how did he justify his actions? He sent his kids to faith based schools, sent them to classes at a local church to study the Bible. Even at my young age, I had questions about all of this. I was too scared to ever ask him directly, but I carried this with me. Why were these children allowed to do such things, yet I’m made to run packages of drugs around the city? Was I not a good person? Did God feel that it was alright for me to suffer while others flourished?
My parents were not seriously religious people. They did take us to church on occasions. My older sisters attended classes at church to be confirmed. (In the West, the term Confirmation suggests that this sacrament both confirms and strengthens baptismal grace). When I reached the age to go to these classes, I already had my doubts. I wasn’t excited about going, but remained the good son and went as instructed. Once in class, I found that the separation of classes was ever present. I was still the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. I sat among kids that came from mostly upper class neighborhoods. You could say that I stood out of the pack, but not in a good way. I didn’t have the best clothes, and had already learned from my boss to remain silent. I watched and learned the order in the room. I found out quickly that the minister’s son was in charge of things. (unofficially) He pushed other kids around, talked down to everyone and bullied his way to the top. My thoughts were to just do my time and hope to not be seen. Blend into the furniture. It didn’t go that way for long. I became this boy’s prime target. I “smelled” like an Eastsider. I looked poor, and because I didn’t speak, became his favorite person to go after when no adults were around. The day finally came around where I’d reached a breaking point. We sat in a combination chair/desk in this church room. The minister had left the room and I could just feel this kid’s stare. I knew what was coming. He started in with his usual derogatory comments. On this day, he took it a step further and made a reference about my mother. Something snapped. Before I knew it, I had stood up, grabbed my chair up off the floor and hit him with it. I knocked him flat to the ground and his head started to bleed. His screams brought the minister back into the room where things just became worse. I was the evil that had harmed the lamb of God. The minister used biblical terminology to belittle me until my parents could be contacted.
Once my parents arrived. The story was presented by the minister as I stood silent. My father looked at me and said “is that what happened?” I just shook my head and said, no. I was removed from the church and asked to never return. I was further told that I needed to “pray for my soul and for forgiveness.” When I got into the vehicle with my parents it was a quiet ride home. Once we arrived home, my father took me aside and asked again, “is that the way things really happened?” I told him exactly what happened and why I resorted to violence. My father was proud of me. He was proud because I would always tell him the truth. He also believed that handling things with violence was an acceptable practice. His words were always “there’s nothing to talk about when someone comes at you, just hit them.” I followed my orders.
That evening was one of turmoil inside of me. What was God going to think of me? Why were others allowed to pick on me, or abuse me and yet nothing happened to them? I didn’t take the words from the minister and pray for my soul that night. I began to question faith as a whole. If this was a “man of God” why did he act in such a way. Why didn’t he want to know my side of the story? I questioned why we were so poor and why did my family suffer so much. If you’re good, and follow the laws of God, why do you still suffer so? Then I went back to thinking of my boss. He was one of the meanest humans I knew. Did he fear for his soul? Did he pray each night for all the many sins he committed regularly? It’s safe to say that for a large part of my life I believed in nothing. Nothing more than what I could see, feel and hear directly. An all knowing being of good would never allow such things to go on, would they?
There was the moment that I’ve shared on here before. When I had gone to bed one evening and woke up the next day feeling everything. It was as if my internal emotions were turned on for the very first time. I felt empathy and sympathy. I felt regret for things that I’d done over the years. I woke to this plethora of emotions that literally overwhelmed me. I wanted to step away from the life I’d been living and walk the straight and narrow. I was thinking things that I’d never entertained before. I was feeling things that I’d previously viewed as weakness. This was the first moment in my life that I felt there was a power greater than me.
I still to this day struggle to even walk into a church. I look upon them with dark feelings. I don’t feel the need to congregate with people that I know will judge me. I’ve never felt the closeness that some speak of, or the love that they feel. I even tried to return to church as an adult and complete classes to be confirmed. I was met with the same ugliness I’d experienced as a child. While I was open to trying, it just never seemed to work out. My take was this. I’m a study of humans and I know for fact that humans are very flawed. They go to these places of worship in order to find shelter of some kind. While in these buildings, they remain the flawed, sometimes terrible humans that they’ve always been. They really can’t help themselves. I too went trying to find “God.” What I learned is that God was not in those buildings. I never needed that. I never learned to be a good person from listening to a minister speak. If anything, I learned that there are many broken people in these houses. It’s better for me to stay away altogether.
I found my higher power in places like the park. I found light and love on the roads while running. I’ve had numerous talks with my higher power on so many occasions. Walking, running, sitting in a dark room. As a child, I spent numerous nights praying for protection. Begging for forgiveness for all the things that I was made to do. Hoping that somewhere, someone was hearing me. Most times struggling to sleep and wondering if my words were ever heard. I’ve watched people suffer with illnesses that I felt should never have suffered. From when I was a young boy, I have always wondered why some horrible people are allowed to survive. They stay alive to an old age while some of the best suffer and die so young.
My take on faith is this. For me to have faith in another, I need time. Time to assess who and what they are. I base how I feel about a person on their actions in this world. I could care less that you go to church each and every week. I’ve discovered I often feel more comfortable with others who have endured similar hardships. As for my faith in God…I think you could say that my relationship is unique. I don’t feel the need to wear a cross around my neck. I don’t need to perform any rituals. I just want to be the best person I can on this earth for as long as I’m here. I want to see to it that others don’t suffer in the same fashion that I did. When I was at my most vulnerable. When I needed someone or something to believe in, I was let down. I was cast aside.
I’d like to believe that the man that I’ve grown into is one that never forgets his past. I learned from all of the darkness and stepped forward to make better. Not just for myself, but for anyone around me. When someone looks to me for help, or guidance, I’ll be there. I won’t judge, I won’t shame them. That’s what I was looking for as a child. I want to be the hero of my own story, and maybe for someone else’s. If I can do that, perhaps God will shine his light upon me some day. Until then, I’ll continue on my journey. Seeker of the light.
As I sit here on the Christmas day, I stop and pause. How lucky I am to be in this home. I’m warm, I’m loved, and I find myself wanting for nothing. Nothing more than being able to continue on my journey of self discovery. Taking the time to seek peace, while passing through the darkness of my past. I’m truly humbled.
From the child that was lost and unsure of life, to the man that I’ve grown to be. I often wonder how I ever made it this far. I can say with great certainty that it wasn’t an easy road. There were moments that I wanted to give up, but something inside of me wouldn’t allow me to. No matter how dark it became, I kept searching for the light. I’m forever grateful to the many people along the way that guided me, listened to me, and noticed me. However I refer to them in my writings (Ghosts, Angels, Humans) they were are all special to me. Each provided something I was seeking and kept me on my road towards serenity.
I share all of this with you today because I’ve been moved yet again on this morning. My wife sees me for who I am. She gifted me a couple of shirts that lets me know she understands me. She knows my struggles better than most and is still able to love me…just the way that I am. She celebrates my victories and sits with me during my struggles. I don’t have to say anything to her, she knows. When you find that kind of connection with someone in your life, it’s truly a gift. There again, I never in my wildest dreams thought that I’d find someone that I could be so open with. That I could trust so completely. Yet here I am.
I take nothing in life for granted. I learned long ago that anything in your life can be snatched in the blink of an eye. Even your life itself can be taken away instantly. It sounds dark and ugly, but it’s truth. Truth is something that I always share in my blogs. So, on this day of worship, I’ll wrap myself in the love that surrounds me. I don’t need to step into a church to feel this way. My church is all around me. I celebrate my life and my rebirth. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I’ll stretch out my wings and fly.
I hope that whatever it is that you do today, you are at peace. I hope that you surround yourself with those that see you, and hear you. Most of all I hope you are loved, on this day and everyday going forward. I thank you all for your unwavering support of my writing, for this is truly my passion. Happy Holidays to you all.
There are moments that come about that spark something within me. Strike a nerve if you will. It can be from a casual conversation, a song, a movie or just random thoughts as I wander. Tonight, I was struck by something that was said during a movie. I invited my sister Leanna over to watch “The long walk.” It’s a Stephen King novel turned into a highly anticipated movie. We’d discussed watching for awhile now and finally had the chance. It did not disappoint, but it triggered feelings, and perhaps clarity.
I won’t get into the movie as I don’t want to spoil it for anyone planning on watching it. I will tell you that It’s set in post-apocalyptic times. That alone is something I have nightmares about all the time. Teens are made to walk until there is only one of them left. The two main characters in the movie talk about life while doing the long walk. They discuss how they came to be in this race. They also talked about what they wanted for their future if they won, and so on. The one character was getting upset as the miles began to climb and things became uncomfortable. After he expressed his frustration, the young man next to him advised him. He said he needed to gain control. “You’ve only been out here for a short time. How can you go complaining when you’ve only just begun? I’ve been doing the long walk my entire life.” As he went on to explain his childhood, or lack thereof, the gravity of his emotions grabbed me. I felt what he was saying. I’d been on the long walk as well. Always looking for a way to survive. A way to remain invisible so that I wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to myself. While this was a fictional movie, the message was clear. His life was harsh. He found himself on this long walk as way to a better life. Yet, he made the choice to always survive. To love rather than hate. To cherish friendships over seclusion. He wanted a better world not only for himself, but for others around him.
I found myself full of emotions. Tears welled up in my eyes and thoughts of my life started running wild. While I know where I’ve been, and know the things that I’ve done to survive. I’ve always looked towards hope. I leaned into survival at every turn. Along with these thoughts. I began to feel the connection to my current need to always be moving. My long walks that I cherish so much. This movie showed these young men walking as a way to survive. Staying at a set pace, moving through the miles, they could never stop…or they’d die. I’ve been on this road. I had to keep moving in order to stay alive. The promise to the winner was to be granted a wish. Anything that they desired would be granted, if they were the lone finisher. The winner, the survivor.
My walks now are a time of reflection. A way to shed the weight of the world. A time to remember where I came from and what I’m capable of. A step back in time, as well as a glimpse of my future. I’m still on that long walk but it feels different. I feel that I’ve shifted from the character in the movie that was full of darkness and driven by anger. I’ve become more of the one that chooses love, light and happiness. I think I always have, I just hadn’t realized it until now. Even at the darkest times, I wanted to find something better. I was thirsty for what others had, and drank in all of their positive energy. I held onto those that would make me feel better inside. All the while I was still on my long walk. These were the humans that may have carried me when I felt exhausted. The humans that looked after me when I felt no one cared. They were on my road making the long walk right along with me.
Life is a long walk. It’s full of peaks and valleys, rain, snow and sunshine. It wears your body down, but fills you with energy at the same time. It forces you to make choices and do things that are frightening. It test you with temptations and gifts you with all beauty of the world. The long walk is our lives. When we stop, we die. We don’t stop in the dramatic way depicted in movies. Instead, when we truly stop trying, pushing, striving, caring, and loving, we die. I learned tonight that while my journey early on in my life was dark and sad at times. I’m still here, still moving, still walking. I’m still alive and that’s something to celebrate. I want to be the one that cherishes what’s left of my life. Cherishing my loved ones, my friendships, my tribe.
The long walk is for all of us, step wisely. Hold onto hope and never quit. Reach for that finish line and be the survivor that’s granted your greatest wish. Until that day comes…I’ll see you on the road, of life!
I sit and gaze across the landscape. It’s a country that I no longer recognize. I find my thoughts wandering. How did it get this way? Where did we go so wrong? The creeping death that roams the streets of cities and states. Hatred of others has become the anthem of the day. Care and compassion are looked upon as signs of weakness and have no place in this new world order. Cruelty is served up on a daily platter of shame, and no one seems to care.
I find myself being drawn back into the place I came from. One of safety and familiarity. The old me, the Zombie that feels nothing. Conversations with others around me only feed this desire. They laugh and joke about other humans being harmed. Humans being dragged away losing everything. Everything that was important to them means nothing to the ones it doesn’t “personally” affect. They celebrate the separation of humans who don’t look like them, or speak like them. They look at them as though they’re not humans and have no value. I’ve seen this play before and there is no happy ending to it.
The underworld is a place that was not meant to see the light of day. The people who roam in it feed on others like wolves stalking their prey. They see others as “less than”, weak, vulnerable and easy marks. I’ve sat at the table with those who would smile at harm coming to you. I’ve watched actions taken that should frighten anyone. I know how these people operate and we now have this same thing playing out before our very eyes. No longer are they being pushed below the surface. They’re allowed to harm in full view of the public. Where does this lead? Ask yourself, when they’ve finished with whatever the latest targets are, who do they come for next? If you feel that you’re safe, you’ve just set yourself up for the biggest mistake of your life.
I’ve stated before that I’ve seen humans at their very best, and also at their very worst. I struggle now to see humans being kind. Perhaps my view is different. The eyes of Zombie are always watching and see many things that others look past. The desire to adjust my view, my thinking is still there. I want this to all just be a nightmare that I can wake up from and feel good again. I want to set my armor down and walk without pain again. I’m so tired and I don’t want to see this play over again. To have to put my feelings aside and find a way to survive. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be that person ever again, yet here we are.
It’s not dramatic to state these feelings, it’s real. You need nothing more than to walk outside of your door, it’s now all around you. Walking today gave me time to try to push this sadness aside. Attempt to adjust focus and see good in the world. I was grasping for anything. Waiting for a sign to float gently before me and lift me back up. I’m still searching, hoping, praying.
I’ll do what I need to do to keep moving. My desire to live and thrive has helped me to get this far in my life. I won’t quit…I can’t. I honestly don’t think that I know how. Tomorrow will come and perhaps another chance to make things right again. Another chance to right this ship and keep it from going over. “Hold Fast” as the sailors of yesteryear would say. Hold fast to everything that you care about. Hold your desire for a better world and a place that you can be proud of. Most importantly, hold onto the ones who mean the most to you…now more than ever. I’ll do all of this and attempt to hold onto my sanity along the way.
“God willing and the creek don’t rise” is one approach we can take. I like “It’s all about finding calm in the chaos.” (Donna Karan) My search continues. Be well my friends.
This one has been sitting inside of me for quite some time now. Probably because this is a question that I ask myself on a very regular basis. While I see myself as broken, I still believe (at least now) that I have value. My background can make me a challenge to be around. I feel everything and with such passion. I see things others don’t. I find myself asking why I’m like this, and why is it that others don’t feel as I do. So many questions within a question.
A certain look, an awkward glance, a less than pleasant response. These are things that I notice. I watch facial expressions, read body language and study the way in which words are delivered. With each of these it then starts a chain reaction within me. What did I do? Why is this person mad at me? It can venture deeper and even darker at times. Depending on the situation and the person involved. It can turn into something much uglier. I can feel disrespected, looked past, invisible, or threatened. The reaction to this is to become a wall of impenetrable steel. Hurt feelings become rage, and the first thing that comes to mind is “hurt them more than they’re hurting you.”
As I stated before, I didn’t choose to be this way, I was trained. The constant of “never shutting down” is ever present. Finding ways to walk all of my feelings back has been my desire. Learning to see and hear things differently. It’s a challenge. Think of this in terms of a detour. If you travel the same way to get to work everyday and one day everything is blocked off. You’re then forced to take a detour. The detour is unfamiliar and makes you uneasy. The level of comfort that you have with your commute has been taken away leaving you to feel vulnerable. Some people can adjust easily. However, many of us focus on the negative aspects that this detour has brought into our lives. That is how a broken person feels in everyday life.
I don’t seek problems, nor do I wish them upon myself. I just struggle to make that adjustment in my detour. This can make life with a significant other a struggle. These moments of inner collapse can start the search for answers. Even at this point in my relationship with my wife. I have times when I question “Am I too much?” I know how my brain is wired. I quickly grasp these subtle gestures. In most cases, they mean absolutely nothing. My “kill switch” is to shut down and become quiet. This is a time for me to process and seek inner peace so that I can act and speak appropriately. If it sounds complex, it is. Like most things that I have going on inside of me it can be exhausting. For myself and my wife.
It’s my belief that broken people are special. I don’t say this just because I’m one. I say this because the ones that I’ve encountered in my travels are all truly special. While I’ve been “gifted” with abilities that I may or may not have wanted. I also have the ability to be very genuine. A “what you see it what you get” kind of person. One that once I’ve reached a level of comfort with you, I’m truly all in. I love people deeply and hold them closely. Fiercely loyal to both friends, family. It takes time to reach this pinnacle, but once you’re there you’re truly inside of my heart.
I’ve struggled in my relationships over the years. Taken chances on people that I knew deep inside would disappoint me. Perhaps hoping for a different outcome. Had people walk away from me because I held so much of myself inside. It takes a very patient person to be with someone like me. There are risks in everything we do in our lives. Taking risks with matters of the heart is the ultimate. It takes a patient person to allow me to work through my demons. They help me figure out who I really am. They endure endless hours of counseling and still face moments when I shut down. I feel that it’s a heavy load for my wife to carry at times. I’d like to believe that what I offer in return makes it worth while. My brokenness has developed into something better over time. I see my wife as a part of my soul. I love her deeply. To say it may sound cliché, yet for me it’s everything. I’ve opened the part of me that was the most broken and welcomed her in. I lowered my barriers and took a chance, in the same way that she did with me.
For so long I looked at myself as less than. The truth is that I’m just beautifully broken. I’ve overcome and made strives to be a better human. “Are broken people harder to love?” If you have patience, understanding, and a willingness to work through the complexities, you will find a wonderful human. A wonderful human is on the other side.
“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.”
The Movie (The Crow)
When I think of mothers, I think of so many adjectives that describe them and the many things that they do. Sacrifice is something that comes to mind. Mothers sacrifice so much for the sake of their children. They’re able to put the life of others before their own. This is a rare trait in the world today and is one that needs to be looked upon with awareness. These selfless warriors make sure that households run as well-oiled machines. They, in many cases handle all the family finances, juggle a work schedule along with all the many appointments that come with children. Doctor visits, getting back and forth to school, sports practices and events, the lists go on and on. It doesn’t stop as the children grow older, it can even expand. Let’s look more into this phenomenon known as Mothers.
While my mother suffered from mental illness/depression, she worked hard to make sure that we had some form of foundation to work from. I’ve blogged about her many times, and I want to be clear, I loved my mother very much. I learned as an adult all the things she’d gone through in her life, which gave me pause. There was no way for me to judge the things that she was unable to do when she struggled so much herself. I needed to see through that and understand what she did manage. She managed a household with four children, all very close in age, so that meant we were all going through things at the same time. This had to be done in many cases with little to no money coming in. We were hungry on many occasions but never starved. We struggled with wearing hand-me-downs that were given to us by other families, but we had clothes to wear. We never had the best of everything, but we had something. There’s a lot to be said with all of this. We learned to be humble and grateful. We also learned the value of education. While my mother was not super pushy about getting us up and out in the morning, she always pushed us to keep up with our assignments. She’d guide us when we had questions about classes. This was all happening while she had so much going on inside of herself.
My mother had a calmness about her. While I took after my father in many ways, including the “take no shit” kind of attitude, I was balanced out with a piece of my mother’s gentle side. When I’d be all worked up about something I knew that my mother would have the right words to settle me. “This too shall pass” was a regular from her lips. There was a time when I was an adult and had a dispute with a contractor that was working on my property. The guy decided to take things to the next level and threatened me with violence. This happened during a phone call and my approach was much like my father. After the guy finished spewing his hostilities I said with a very calm voice “where are you at right now?” My plan was simple, to go where he was and handle him the way that I knew how to. As I was walking towards the door of my parent’s home, my mother stepped in front of me and said, “think about what you’re about to do. This is a time to remain calm because once you leave here and find him, you could lose everything.” Her words found their way into my brain when it was spinning out of control. She even delivered it in such a way that I immediately stopped. I felt what she was saying and knew that she was right. I would lose everything if I left. There was no other person on this earth that could’ve stopped me on that day. When I’m ready for battle, I’m all business and become tunnel-visioned. While I was much larger than my mother, she seemed impassable at that moment. These are the things that mothers are capable of. The power of a mother extends everywhere, and with everyone. I’ve met many rough individuals in my life and I’ll tell you that all of them had respect for the woman that brought them into this world. It didn’t matter who they were, or how wicked they could be. When it came to their mothers, they all became children again.
I’ve worked with mostly women for the better part of my life and have seen so many keep things together that would make most men run for cover. They deserve everyone’s respect and love. I know that I have profound respect for all the people that surround me in my life, and I do what I can to make it known. I celebrate their successes with them and try to be there when they’re just tired of the world. I’d ask that we all take a moment in our life for Mother’s Day. Make it something special. Look to the women in this world with honor and respect. Know that they’re capable of doing everything that needs to be done and without a thought for themselves. We owe them that. We owe them more than a day for sure. To all the mothers out there that are reading this, I see you on Mother’s Day and every day. You have my admiration, my respect and my gratitude. Thank you for all that you do.
Once again this came about through numerous discussions. Do we ever really know someone? It’s an honest question that deserves to be looked into. I’ll share my feelings and then just leave the rest up to all of you to ponder. My take may be a touch different because of my background, but I’m sure there will be some similarities. Along with my thoughts of life and death, came the ever nagging question that I’ve posed as the title of this blog, Do we ever really know someone?
I’ll take a quick trip into the past to give perspective on why I feel the way that I do, or at least why I feel like I do at times. When you’re in the darker side of life and doing things that run well below law abiding, you need to be, or present yourself in a certain manner. The reason is simple, you want to stay alive. I’ve shared before that I was trained to be an observer of other humans. I was also taught to show nothing about myself. What I would show others, was only what I wanted them to see. I was able to roll through my entire high school life without a single soul knowing anything about me. Stop and think about that for a minute. Put yourself back in Junior high or High school and think about how people were. How social, how tight different “cliques” were. All the things that kids are supposed to do at that age. Now imagine being part of something so awful that if you so much as whisper a word of it, you could die. That’s what I carried back in those days. I had to put myself out there as a quiet, shy, ordinary kid. I find humor at some of the things that people wrote in my yearbook. They really had no idea, because I didn’t let them know.
We all have it in us to be less than truthful. We use our skills acquired in life to hide, or perhaps shield others from truths. In my case, I didn’t want to be truthful because there could be harm brought to anyone who might know my position. “Loose lips sink ships.” Loose lips also get people killed. I became a nonentity. Funny how even now at work I always tell people around me that I’m “nobody.” There’s truth to that statement even though I’m smiling when I say it. I learned to fade into the backdrop, to not be seen, to blend in. If I felt that someone was getting too close, or had a feeling that they might suspect something, I quickly got into the wind. Deception is something that is used, especially in the surroundings that I found myself in. These blogs are probably the most honest things that have ever come out of my body. There’s healing for me in writing all of this. You’re getting to know Zombie a.k.a. Robert. In some cases, for the very first time.
So, do you feel that you really know a person? Are you close with your family members? Perhaps you have a best friend that you tell all your secrets to. Do you feel that you really know one another? I’m not trying to make everyone paranoid, it’s just something that has come to pass in my journey in this world. I think deeply at times and this is a topic that intrigues me. Why do we not want others to know everything about us? My counselor Amy knows the most and we still work towards a full disclosure. I know that with more time and work, writing, I’ll be able to spill all that needs to be spilled. As I age, I process things differently, so there’s hope that I can see things through a fresh lens.
How about this. I’ve always said that when you meet someone, whether it’s social, work related, or a dating prospect. The person that you meet at the beginning is the “representative.” They’re most likely showing you the very best that they feel they can be. It’s a show of sorts, acting. I like to wait and see what they do when no one is looking. How they interact with others, especially when they’re comfortable. Listen intently when people talk. You’ll hear much of who they are in conversations, especially as time goes by. How they view the world and others is important. Let’s not forget animals! If someone hates dogs and cats you need to run, not walk away from them…lol!
Being a voyeur who was trained to pay attention to subtle details of other humans has gifted me the ability to spot frauds. In some cases I spot them and just allow them to be in my general area. It’s more of a “I want to see how far they’ll take things” action. There are some who, when I spot them, I call out right to their face. It’s a dangerous practice, and can lead to altercations, so I’m mindful about doing this at this point in my life. There are people who I feel have genuine goodness about them, and I want them in my “orbit.” Time is the key to all of this.
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You see, humans are so very fascinating. The way in which we socialize and maneuver through the world captures my attention all the time. I feel that it’s only fair that if I’m constantly assessing people around me, that I should be more open about myself, and here we are! This is what I’ve learned over the past few years with my counselor. I must embrace the darkness that has served me in my life. I am learning to accept some of my “abilities” that I’ve acquired as a part of me, rather than trying to distance myself from them, or erase my past. I’m also learning to show other humans who and what I really am. I know that not everyone will understand, or perhaps not want to be around me, and that’s o.k. While I do this, I try to bring attention to all the things that make me who I am. How I question everything and why I’m always guarded with my feelings. I think in the end, if you ask the question “do we ever really know someone?” If it comes to me, I’d like the answer to be, Yes.
The zombie file 