Reaching

Back then the pond was a lake.  The icebergs were glaciers.  The mirror only saw the top of my head. Back then life was simpler.  Or perhaps now it's simpler and in the past it was more enjoyable.  There was more diversity.

Now I just seem to be doing little more than following.  Is it codependency sometimes?  What do I do for myself without feeling selfish?  What do I do that I want to do that I can start myself?  Why can't I be motivated from within?  Why do all the conversations seem to be the same or like I'm reaching from underwater to be heard?

It's not really that big of a deal though it doesn't feel great.  Don't worry about me.

Anxiety

Maybe that's something anxiety's good for: writing stories.  Through this anxiousness I create alternate histories, whether I would like to or not.  I worry about how life will turn out though I don't let myself think I'm worrying.  I dwell on what the past wasn't and what it could have been, knowing full well that I can't change it.

What if the colonists and the natives were able to live in peace together?  What if the West had sailed to the East?  What if families weren't forced to convert or die?  What if Constantinople hadn't been able to remember his dream?  What if Hitler found a peaceful solution?  What if Palestine was given equal support as Israel?  What if Gorbachev had not torn down the wall?  What if Yugoslavia remained united?  What if Scotland had gained independence?  What if everyone had voted in the last election?  What if there was a solution to equality in voting precincts?  What if gerrymandering didn't exist?  What if everyone had an equal voice?  What if there was no ice bucket challenge?  What if Kanye didn't interrupt Taylor?  What if Taylor Swift chose a different career path?

What if I don't pass field?  What if I have to live in Texas for an extra year?  What if I have to find a way to pay for school?  What if I don't finish my homework?  What if I quit my job?  What if I am unable to show that I'm ready to return to my internship?  What if they won't let me change to a different location?  What if I really am broken?  What if there's no cure for this life?  What if I'm so needy that I can't live alone?  What if something happens to my parents?  What if people see my weaknesses?  What if I'm more than just naive.

What then?

Some might be prompts for prose while others just seem to prolong the pain.

Metaphoric Escape

I'm an iceberg on the sea.  Perhaps, if you're not paying attention, your ship will run aground in me.  I'm cold and sitting all alone.  The deeper you dive, the more you'll know.

I'm a seagull flying South for Winter.  If you look close enough you'll see my splinters.  With every flap of my wing, the pain it grows deeper.  So I cover it up and hope to find fresh fields, not become a lifelong sleeper.

I'm a calf just born to her mother and father.  Lead me to greener pasture.  Tell me that your care will endure.  Old MacDonald comes and takes you away.  "More meat, more milk," he mumbles to himself.  "More loneliness, more isolation," are the thoughts that pull me off to sleep, ever so slowly. As another cow jumps over the moon, I think of the inevitable, "I too will be gone soon."

I Need Someone to Walk Alongside Me Vol. I

I need someone to walk alongside me.  Not occasionally.  Not every now and then.  I need someone here every moment of every day.  Though I know that that's not reasonable.  It's not a realistic request.  Some may say it's metaphoric but it feels like so much more.  What do I do about this?  Where do I go?

I'm supposed to find out what this means to me but how do I define something that took long enough to find?  It means what I've said: I just need someone to walk with me.  Someone I can talk with.  Someone I can rely on.  Someone I can be myself with.  Why do I need someone else?  Why can't I be myself by myself?  Why am I not content to be me?  I don't need anyone else.  I don't want to define myself in someone else.  I want to live a life alive.  What do I do?  What's next?  What do I do here?

I'm stuck.  I'm stuck because the good days, the good moments, they tell me they're not real.  They tell me that I'm not doing enough.  I tell them what I'm feeling and they say it's not enough.  They say I'm not working on myself enough.  So, now what?  I'm trying, aren't I?  I know that it's getting to be so intellectual that the emotions are so far removed, but aren't emotions just that, feelings?  I can't live my life being pushed by every which wind.  It seems like I'm doing that to a certain extent but it's not enough.

So, now what?

An Organized Mess

Anankastic.
Flabbergastic.
Spastic.
Elastic.

I'm a box.
Don't put me inside.

There are things I enjoy.
Don't put me inside.
There are struggles I have.
Don't put me inside.
I'm a nuisance,
a helping hand,
an organized mess.

I am not the thoughts in my head.
I am not the crumpled sheets on my bed.
I am my toes to head,
the inside and out.

I am not destruction
nor reconstruction.
I'm not a metaphor,
a prison door,
or all the broken pieces
laying on the floor.

I'm the in-between
and that's okay.

The Cracks Speak

Allow me please to speak from my head.  From the fractures in my skull that are so concerned with control that they cause me to nearly spin out every day.  Perhaps there is nonsense, undoubtedly there are falsifications, but they are getting so restless that I must let them escape lest they bury themselves further inside and lead to my own demise.

When was the last time you killed yourself?  The last time you died?  Are you awake while you're living, or have you just managed to survive?  I'm a fly on the window, a bug on the wall.  I'm a man in pajamas walking hastily through the mall.  I'm a dancer in high heels unprepared for the fall.  I'm a broken church window made with stained glass and all.

I've got nothing to say here but I found a new soapbox.  I've got nothing to say here but I have an audience so I'll say it.  If there is an ear then it will listen to my words.  I've got nothing to say but I can spin it passed the absurd.  No one will believe me until their guard is down, but that's when I sneak in and press far beyond what initially is found.

I'm a broken wing on a butterfly.  No one can deny my external beauty.  I've become dysfunctional but don't tell me.  I'll keep trying.  My nerve endings still have something in them.  I still feel something.  I'm boiling over, a pot ready to explode. I'm convulsing like a seized patient on his near-death bed.  I'm a bedpan that has spoiled.  I'm a guest who has overstayed his welcome and I'm oblivious to my inconsiderateness.

I'm a hard boiled egg that doesn't get the yolk.  I'm a chicken that hasn't hatched but somehow is standing.  I'll admit to my existence but won't tell you where I've come from.

I'm a frature on the wall and the wall is your head.  Your head is your mind though wish it was dead.  I'll work to "improve" you with these delusions that I've said.  If you listen real closely, you'll see that I too I'm dead.

I won't admit to my decaying but my tissues are eroding.  I won't tell you I'm dying, though my bones are corroding.  I won't tell you that I'm setting the fuse for the bomb that's exploding.

I'll just give you the impression that with knowledge I am loading, your brain and your body.  And you'll be better for it one day, just trust me through the groaning.  You will not explode, you've got space to spare.  You are not too busy and this load you mustn't share.

Don't worry about you, it's for the people you must care.
Forget about your needs, there are resources to share! 

Are you confused?

Take some time to make a rhyme.  To fall in and out of time.  Life is the most lucid of all my dreams. I remember everything and nothing at the same time.  All I feel is exhausting.  The words that I speak make no sense.  All that I'm doing is beyond understanding.  Anything you comprehend is on you via me.  That's enough for now.  Are you confused yet?

Poetry and the depth of a few words

Sensitivity,
ruminations,
you've found me in my frustrations.

Shallow practical skills,
deep emotions,
life is more than
local motion.

You look inside me,
you see something
others don't.

You're apart
and something
feels like
you're a part
of me.

You see my
invisibility.
You clear my
eyes and
see what I'm
blind to.

My eyes
are open.
My heart,
no longer
broken.

Love
indeed
may
be
blind,
but
love
is
dynamic,
it's
multi-
faceted.

Love says,
"Don't
put me in
a box."

Love says,
"You are
who
you are
and
I cannot,
I will not,
I'll try not,
to change
you."

Sometimes love
says,
"I'll
marry you if
you'll marry me
too."

Other times love
says, "I'll
be honest;
I don't
see a future beyond
who we are
now."

Love accepts
who we are,
where we are,
when we are,
how we are.

Love does not
make
unwarranted
judgments.

We'll grow
up
and our
interpretations
will grow
with us.

I can only be me

I don't have much time to talk but there are just a couple things on my mind.

I'll be brief.

First, it seems like we tend to get deeper once the goodbyes have been said.  I like that.  I like that we're able to get deeper and really talk about the big things.  It's hard to say goodbye for real because I don't want these conversations to end.  However, maybe if we closed the conversation earlier, it would allow us to reach the profound depth much sooner.

And second, I feel like I'm trying to be everything to everyone.  There is no time for stretching myself because I already have a rigid schedule.  Any extra time is built for homework and self-care.  So what does that look like?  I'm trying to encourage others to care for themselves, however I'm still not completely sure how to do it myself.  I challenge myself so much that I'm not completely able to relax and enjoy life.  When I'm not doing one of my obligatory tasks, I'm either sleeping to avoid my approaching responsibilities or I'm all in.  I'm still not sure what this means.  I've been on the upslope but I lose my grip often and tumble down hard.

A Current Picture of Self-Description

Ice
elation,
get me out of this frustration.
Even now this conversation
is more of an oration.

Any time I have
to invest in elaboration
is stifled by myself,
my own limitation.

The words that arise
with frequency
may require elaboration,
but the lack of somatic symptoms
elicits a less precise explanation.

Just listen to my narration
and hear the gasps
of desperation.
I'm reaching for water
in this desert of dehydration.

Not exactly a To Do List

Things I haven't done yet:

• Study for my midterm
• Finish my laundry
• Analyze data for themes for my poster presentation
• Complete my poster

Things I have done:

• Finished one class worth of homework
• Sleep
• Some laundry
• Avoid doing work
• Feel lazy
• Be unproductive

I'm a mess and can't just pick up this laziness and throw it away.  The world is crumbling in front of me and inside me.

Pull this knife

out of me.

What am I avoiding? and what's the primary emotion?

I need rest.
Some days I need rest.
All days I need rest.

Some days the rest of my rest is not restful.
Some days I'm avoiding my job.
my duties.
my emotions.

I need a place to express myself.  I need someone following me around.
a blank canvas and paint.
open ears.
truth.
to
not
feel
so
needy.

I'm okay and my heart is sinking.
And all I can think of is what I'm lacking.
What am I doing here?
Who am I benefiting?
Do the ends justify the means?
do they justify the needs?

Am I as judgmental as I think I am?
Can I give myself credit in more ways than one?
Am I just speaking politically around some so as to appear more together?
And what of the times when everything inside is tearing me apart and tense?
What then?

What of the time when there is no one else around?
There will not always be someone else.
I cannot define myself in someone else.
Do I take full advantage of the time we have together?

Back to the neediness.

Why can't I just be content?
I ruminate on emotions
and distortions
and perceptions
and my life runs off on tangents.

This is me trying to make sense of it all
without having someone vocal.
When I'm typing on a public forum
my voice sounds different.

When I'm speaking from a place of
sought understanding
my voice is well known.

I'm seeking to understand
and I don't allow others the patience
to follow me while I try
to find the right thought.

I tend to think out loud
because when I think to myself
I tend to destroy the one listening.
I overthink.
Into my thoughts I sink.

So was this even helpful?
was it worth it?
Do you see how I can be confusing?
how I'm confused?

It's these soft sciences that are so hard to define.
It's these secondary and tertiary emotions that don't easily rhyme.

I'm a mess and working on it.
I'm a mess and that's okay.

We'll get there.
     Where?
           And who are we?

A little nothing

You don't know me.  How can you even pretend to know me if I don't even know myself.  I've got a stake in my chest and it's piercing my left lung.  I missed.

Don't tell me what I can't do.  I've got enough voices in my head telling me what I can and cannot do. You don't know me.  I don't know me either.  No one really takes me seriously, not me anyway.  I've got enough problems myself.

I've got stories inside me and the energy is gone.  Maybe it's vicarious trauma.  Maybe it's laziness, though I know it's not.  I'm not sure who I am anymore.  I'm learning so much about myself that I don't know who I am.

The words are gone again.  So I'll talk with you later.

What Do I Know?

I know what's best for you.  I know your problems.  I know your life.  I'll save you out of the problems that rise up around you.

I've been there.  I know exactly what it's like.  Just let me take it from here.

I see that you're in trouble.  I'll take you out of the hardships and place you somewhere else.  You got yourself into this mess and so you obviously don't know how to get yourself out.  That's okay.  That's what I am here for.

If you would just listen to me your life would be so much more rewarding.


How is any of that empowering?  How will anyone learn to live a sustainably productive life if all we do is say that we know best?  We must encourage others that there is value in their own experiences.  They are valuable as they are.  They are the true experts on their lives.

There is so much to be spoken on this topic and I had hoped the words were here but my mind is currently running on an exercise wheel: so many thoughts and so few tangible words to be written.

CTRL 7

CreateTrainReapLearn

CTRL 6

CreateTrainRecapLeisure

CTRL 5

ComeTame(the)RoaringLions

Avoiding Avoidance and Embracing Difficulities

So much on my mind again.  I've been putting this off until I finished something.  However, I haven't finished yet.  Still, I felt I couldn't go to sleep without getting something down first.

So I think one of the major issues that I'm dealing with is avoidance.  I'm so good at avoiding things.  I don't want to feel lonely so I'll avoid it.  I don't want to feel guilty so I try to ignore it.  I don't want to do my homework so I fall asleep reading.  I don't want to feel shame so I seek temporary gratification.

Inevitably all of these things lead me feeling the initial feeling, only to a greater extent.  So I fall deeper into the rabbit hole.  Now that I'm beginning to realize it I'm working on ways to climb back up.  It's actually pretty hard.  It means embracing rather than running from my feelings.  It has also proven difficult because when you are practicing avoidance you often become so good at it that your mind has allowed you to forget what it was you were avoiding in the first place.  It's really quite bizarre.  I've found myself wanting to get to the root of the problem but when I dive deeper into who I am and why I am that way I find myself longing to avoid the person I uncover.

One thing I can do to try and work to decrease my avoidance behaviors is acknowledge what would happen if I should choose to embrace rather than avoid certain emotions, feelings, conversations, and situations.  Really, what's the worst that could happen?  It could feel pretty awful initially, but then rather than being engulfed in a sea of someone I am not I would instead have the freedom to embrace who I really am.

So let's think about this from a more practical stance.  If I were to embrace the feeling of loneliness it could be really detrimental for a time.  That's right, it's going to hurt and I don't really want to feel that hurt.  It's going to mean that I may feel really alone and as though I don't really have an outlet or anyone to support me.  Then however, I will hopefully realize that I am truly not alone.  I am surrounded by people who care for me and truly desire to invest in my life.  I am surrounded by people who care for me and though their care may not last I am loved by a Creator who made me and adopted me as His own.

If I were to embrace my feelings of guilt I may come to realize that we are all guilty of something.  We're all stained.  None of us are spotless.  To think otherwise would be to lie to myself.  Similarly, holding myself to a standard of perfection and allowing others the benefit of the doubt is simply unjust treatment of myself.  The Lord is the Judge of myself as well.  In the same way that I seek to not judge others I must learn to not judge myself either.  The Lord judges all; I am no exception.  His mercy is perfect and his justice is too.  Judging myself and showing mercy toward others is a double standard.  I must learn to be merciful with myself on the outset as I strive to be with others.

I don't want to do my homework or other necessary life tasks like getting my car fixed because I'm not sure I'm ready to face them.  So I put them off, subconsciously hoping that they will fix themselves.  That my homework will miraculously evaporate and my car will be new again.  Or that I will suddenly have perfect health insurance and won't have to worry about how high my deductible is.  So the longer I put off doing such vital tasks the less time I give myself to really invest in an educated plan to complete them.  However, if I just did them as soon as the thoughts arose I would be able to focus more on them.  Then I would have free time to do what I please.  As it stands currently, worry myself into fits of anxiety, thinking How am I ever going to complete all of this on time?  The solution, or part of it rather, is working hard and doing something now so that later will not regret having avoided the work at hand.  Then, rather than wishing I had time to invest in the things that I enjoy (whatever those may be), I can feel content when I complete a task and seize the moments to invest in what I really want to do.

The final emotion (for now) that I try so hard to avoid is my shame.  This emotion is tied closely to my feelings of guilt listed above.  I feel so ashamed that I haven't done anything productive in my life that I punish myself.  Then, having still done nothing I fall deeper into this cycle of shame.  So, the question remains, what can I do practically to embrace the shame, or rather the realities that produce the shame?  This is a little difficult to describe.  I can realize that shame, for me, comes from a place of lack of inactivity in a desperately hurting world.  How can I do nothing when my brothers and sisters are suffering all around the world from an innumerable amount of atrocities?  How can I ignore the ragged shell of a man holding up a cardboard sign at the intersection?  How can I sit in my room and type on my computer all day while millions are dying from hunger everyday?  How can I ramble on a blog about my own personal flaws when there are children who don't even know if they are loved?

Do you sense the shame building up in your stomach like I do as I type these things?  It's really an uncomfortable feeling, isn't it?  Our society says we're lazy for not doing anything and yet it doesn't tell us just what to do.  What do we make of that?  So I just sit in my room and some part of me hopes that these problems will solve themselves.  Meanwhile, another part of me tries to numb the deep pain that I feel for others.  I think some might call that compassion, but something inside me has taught me to see feel it as shame due to my lack of action.

So I seek to take action.  I seek to do better.  However, I must first seek to embrace the shame.  I must first remember that it is okay to feel compassion for others.  I must remember that I am only one person.  I can only do so much.  If I try do do everything, I'll fail miserably and will likely not accomplish anything fully that matters.  It is better to do something fully than to put my hand in many projects and hope for success.  We are all different people and we all have our own talents.  We were not all made to have our hands in every humanitarian project.  We must realize the potential placed within ourselves and seek to use it to make the world a better place.

Pick a project and run with it.  If you realize that is not the right use of your talents, have the humility to admit it and move on to the next thing!  Don't beat a dead horse if it's not yours to bruise.  The world will be better if you find what your talent is and you use it selflessly.  If it takes some time to find your talent, don't worry.  We don't all come out of the womb knowing exactly what we want to do.  Try different things.  Just don't be crippled in the fear of messing up.  It is through the mistakes and errors that we learn what doesn't work.  Again, do not let the fear of disappointment cripple you. You are more than your mistakes.  You are human and we all make mistakes, that is one of the things that really makes us human after all.

I hope that this encourages you to embrace the difficult emotions, feelings, and situations that you find yourself in.  When we are so concerned about how others will view us or how we will appear to outsiders we forget that our own opinions matter as much as theirs.  Embrace the challenges, do not avoid them.  Then, the times when you do find yourself practicing avoidance behaviors, seek to understand why and correct them.  Correcting these behaviors is about realizing what life would be like if we let these situations, feelings, and emotions rule our lives, which to a certain extent they already are.  If we learn to acknowledge that fact and seek to understand them better, perhaps we can learn to avoid avoidance more and more each day.  None of us desire to be ruled by feelings, situations, or emotions, so in order to change that we must strive to adjust the value and power that we give them.  If we do, I anticipate we will begin to be more productive members of society who work not only for the benefit of ourselves but for others as well.

Let's Think Some More

Sometimes the world sickens me.  I see so much that's going on around me and it just makes me upset.  People killing each other without giving others a chance.  People putting words in others' mouths to upset a generation around them.  What is this world coming to?

Sure, it's not that the world is in a state of madness that it hasn't been in before, but really?  Who would want to bring a child into this world?  My second thoughts are having second thoughts.  What is worth living for anymore?  Some videos, pictures, and stories travel around the globe with people's "faith in humanity restored" and while some of them can be inspiring, some of them seem to be downright foolish.

I'm sorry.  I'm trying to find who I am lately and it's really quite difficult.  It's so much easier to live through the lives of others.  To live vicariously through causes, acts of kindness, and standing on a soapbox.  Truly getting to know oneself is scary.  Sure, it can be encouraging, eye-opening, and bring about a sense of relief, but it's pretty intimidating as well.  I don't know who I am outside of trying to help others.  Outside of reaching out to others and encouraging them to reach their full potential.  Why can't I empower myself?

I don't want to be another megaphone in the crowd shouting for attention, even if it's for someone else.  Well, I take that back, if it is for someone else I am open to it.  I'm not okay with who I've become.  Sitting inside all day hoping that something good will happen.  Driving by the cardboard signs while I my music fills my ears, guilt fills my heart, and a breeze hits my face.  I'm not okay with who I am.  I sit around and do nothing because there is so much that needs solving and I'm incompetent.  Sure, my brain may be filled with books and abstract concepts, but what good does that do me?  After all, "faith without deeds is dead."

Maybe that's part of the reason why I feel so lifeless.  Who is on my side?  I know I've got a team but I want to us to be together.  I'm not looking for a wife but it sometimes seems like that's all I do.  What is my society teaching me?  What am I letting it?  Why do I let it in?  I must give others permission to enter into my brain.  Really?  Is that always the case?  Am I suffering from trauma that I don't recall.  It sure feels like it.  What is this life really?  I'm just a bedsore on a broken leg.  I might as well be.  What does it matter really.  You're not reading this and if you are, you're probably more confused than I am.  The world is falling apart and everyone knows it.

I'm just a soft-spoken loud speaker with nothing important to say.  Some days my heart aches and I need to get it out and I can't.  Some days my heart aches and I need to release the pressure and I can.  Some days I'm broken.  Some days I'm restored.  Or no really I'm "an already but not yet resurrected fallen man."

I don't know anymore.  Someone come take this noose from my neck.  I'm slowly drowning and I'm not sure where to go anymore.  Don't worry about me.  Come fight with me.  Don't fight.  Just listen to the words the world is speaking.  Don't let them change.  Don't even let me change you.  Something has to come from within.  When people put up walls separate you from another group, don't believe them.  We're all from the same mother.  You don't have to conform.  You don't have to follow the path that doesn't bring you life.  It's okay to make your own path.

Welcome to the world.

I'm Not You (and I do not claim to be)

Let's start again today.

The dark blue tells me we must be more than blue.  We must be more than red.  More than purple.  Is she talking to herself?  I think I know that.  I am working to be a well-rounded human being.  I know this life is holistic.  It's not one small part or piece by piece.  We are all a part of everything.  So how do I say I know without sounding like I know it all?
The speaker says everything is spiritual.  To an extent, he has a point.  However, I think his belief in the spirituality of everything has blinded him in a way.  We must learn to see people where they are.  It's so hard not to judge others.  How do I love like I want to be loved?  "I was beginning to get into the spiritual realm but I could tell he didn't want to hear it so I let it go."  Why did it take you so long?  Why has this even become an issue?  Must we put ourselves on different planes than others?  "He doesn't understand me."  "She just doesn't see things the way I see them."  Why can't we just learn that, like ourselves, everyone has their own unique story.  We should not place our brothers and sisters in cardboard boxes and glass mason jars for the same reasons that we wish for them to not do so to us.

Don't trap your brothers.  Don't confine your sisters.  You can come up with all of the excuses in the world but what it really comes down to is the fact that we are all family.  We are the hands and feet of our brothers and sisters.  We are their representatives, their advocates, and an extension of them.  We are not those around us.  We cannot claim to know the complete story of those around us.  We cannot swoop in like a superhero to save them, especially if we don't know who they are and what their true needs are.  We cannot determine their needs for them.

Some are more direct than others.  We all, in some form or another, long to be loved and treated with dignity, love, and respect.  How do we do that?  How do we love people where they are rather than asking them to join our consciousness before we choose to act in love?  Is that really love or just charity?  What is charity really?  An attempt to earn respect and acceptance of others?  A way in which we make ourselves feel better about who we are?  A hemophiliac putting a superhero bandage on her bleeding sore?

Sure, none of us really wants to bleed anymore but hurriedly bandaging ourselves with little attention to our true needs and the needs of others is a very temporary solution.  Also, saying that we think we know best because of our "expertise, experience, knowledge, and concern" often does more harm than good.  We've become experts at giving false hope, the worse hope there is, when we solve others' problems with solutions prescribed to ourselves.  Some things may work and could be worth a try but we mustn't go into a situation with the mindset that the way in which our own blood clots is the same as the rest of the world.

One size does not fit all.  We are all individuals.  We share a great deal but we don't tear the same way or for the same reasons at all times.  Perhaps the most important message in all of this is for all of us to listen.  Open our ears, our hearts, and our minds to what is being said (in words, in actions, in lack of action, and in silence).  Remove the lids from our ears and listen to what our fellow humans (or family members) have to tell us.  It is only then that we will begin to understand what life is for others and what our role may (or may not) be in the brief moments we have here.

Where is Justice?

Nothing is just.  That's just it.  I don't mean to sound fatalistic, I just know but in a way maybe I do.  I'm not going to fool you and tell you that I know the solutions to change the system because I really don't.  I'm just another man with a foot in the fight.  An able-bodied, heterosexual, white, male who may very well be afraid to admit some of his own privilege, though I am learning.

The thing is I had so much to write before but my energy was so low.  Now that my energy has recovered my words have dwindled once again.  I want to share something with you but again I don't feel like I have enough.  Or not enough worthy of your precious ears.  So I'm going to return to my post and hope that sometime soon my energy level, the words I want share, and my time align to allow me to write to you again.

Until then, I hope that you'll continue to learn and not sit in your ignorance and comfortability.  Let's fight with love for those who cannot fight themselves.  We must not fight from a place of assuming we know the needs of others.  Rather, we must love others where they are.  We don't know the best for others, sometimes maybe, but more often than not individuals are the experts on their own situations.

Break the Silence

Everything I have is nothing, though everything I am is everything I've ever been.  I've had so many words bubbling inside me lately and once again I've let them ferment so long that I either have very little to say anymore or I just can't seem to remember most of it.

I long so deeply to connect with others.  To show others that they are not alone, but more than that.  I want people to see their full potential.  I don't want to be afraid to say what I feel.  I want my words to be uplifting, to be encouraging, honest, and true.  When I pass people on the sidewalk I want love to pour out.

And all of the pouring out that I do (or at least try to do) seems to leave me empty.  Who is pouring into me?  Who will pour into me?  And questions like that leave me feeling selfish.  Who am I to ask for others to pour into me?  When people begin to show any sort of concern for me I am quick to think that they are doing it in an effort to just make me feel better about myself.  Or that I don't really deserve their accolades.

So how do I share with others about how valuable they truly are if I'm not willing to hear of my own value?  What do I truly value?  What are my deepest desires?

I want to connect with others.  I want to hold peoples' hearts in my hands.  There are moments when I feel like I've held my heart in my hands and these moments are precious.  It's hard to describe these moments, other than to say that it feels like I'm living a metaphor.  These moments remind me that clichés come from somewhere.  The become cliché for a reason: so many people have found themselves resonating with similar sentiments that some words and phrases become overused.

Is it really these moments that make me feel this way?  I'm not too sure.

Writing, sometimes rambling, seems to give me life to a certain extent.

Creating does too.  I like making things out of "nothing."  All of this "nothing" that I have isn't really nothing.  I've been given creative potential.  We all have, really.  Let's break the rules and leave them behind.  When people try to tell us that there's one mold that we all have to fit in let's show them our scars.  Do you know we're all unique?  Before you make judgments about how I experience my life will you put my shoes on for a week?  I'm not saying that I know everything, far from it in fact; rather that when you try and put us all in a box it makes me fear for those who blindly follow you.  What are you teaching my brothers and sisters?  Who have you led astray that is just looking for hope?  Whose hope, like mine, have you printed on a doormat and walked all over?  I will not be walked on. My experiences are my own though I believe that some things need to be shared.

Stuck

I'm so broken here.  I'm not sure where to turn anymore.  I'm stuck like a fly on flypaper.  I'm abandoned like an orphan after a terrible storm.  I know that I've got it so good but inside I'm just breaking.  I don't want the attention of someone who thinks his world is all there is, though I'm struggling to find a way to make it in this life.  My motivation is often shot lately, there's so much to do and there is nothing.

And I want to be an effective man.  A productive social worker.  A trustworthy friend.  A reliable professional.

How did I get here?  I'm just stuck.  All I can do is sleep.  Well maybe I can fall down.  I can read.  I can do so much and yet I'm so stuck.  I want to finish the things before me so that I can have them all behind me.  Though at the same time I just want to be here.  Still, take me far away from here.  My friends don't seem like friends.  Anyone who makes an effort to talk to me, that is what it seems: a strenuous effort.  I'm ashamed that I'm ashamed.  I'm destroyed though I know that there is redemption.  I'm "fighting things that I can't see, like voices coming from the inside of me, like doing things if I hardly believe in them."

Lately I've felt like I've just been surviving.  It's hard to enjoy life when you're just trying to survive.  I'm just trying to make sure that I don't give into the voices inside my head telling me it's not worth it.  Telling me I don't have a chance.  Or just telling me that no one will really miss me.  I'm just a brick in the wall.  A feather in the pillow.  Life can go on without me.

I want to go back to being myself.  Why are the simplest of tasks a chore?  It just feels like exaggerated laziness, but it feels like it's the result of loneliness.  When people do make an effort to include me it rarely feels sincere.  I want someone to pick me up from this dry ground.  Or I just want someone to lay here with me in this desert.  I don't want someone to throw me a life raft.  I don't want  someone to lay here who doesn't want to be here.  I don't want to be awake if being asleep feels more real than any reality I've been experiencing lately.

My dreams seem to be the only reality I enjoy.  How do I get out of here?  I'm stuck in a hole that is invisible.  I want to be whole again.  Was I ever whole?  Help is the word that keeps coming back.  I don't know how you can but I know that I need it.  I'm not sure.  I'm not sure of much of anything anymore.

I'm trying...
but living is so hard.

Nothing is Something (But let's choose something else)

Please allow me to share a little bit with you.

I am continually learning more about myself and the world around me.  Some of the simplest things seem to play such a big role in providing me with some of the greatest feelings of life.  By that logic, it would make sense that sometimes some of the most insignificant events/things in my life can be a cause of some poor distress.  It's unfortunate really.  Just barely running into something at the beginning of the day seems to have a lasting impact.  This makes me wonder: how do these ripples echo in the way that I treat others?  When I say something and am trying to make others feel comfortable, at ease, or included, could it be that I am leaving others out?  Or put another way, could I potentially be lifting one person up only to neglect another, and therefore put him/her down?

These are the kinds of things that I think about.  Well, I'm not sure if "think" is exactly the right way to put it.  They seem to be on the edge of my subconscious and a motive for much of my thinking or acting.  Am I acting out of love when I open my mouth?  Are my actions reflecting my words and vice-versa?

This analysis paralysis stuff can really be quite crippling, but what is so significant about this brief blip that I get to spend here?  Sure, there are significant moments and everything has significance, but think about it, will I the actions I've done today be remembered 50 years from now?  I can answer that with almost complete certainty: no.  To put this into perspective, what do you know about what happened on July 23, 1964?  Sure, we may have memories about special days or historic events that greatly affected the world we lived in, but that doesn't happen everyday.  We get so concerned about what people will think of us or what they'll say that we're afraid to take action and do something for the mere reason that we believe in it.

On the other side of that coin, I would venture to say that the opposite is true: historic moments and special experiences happen everyday.  Perhaps the reason that we life seems so bland at times is less a reflection of the world around us and more a reflection of our own willingness to take the initiative and make a decision.  If we want something to be different we have to be willing to make a change.

I have a strange feeling about the world right now.  I think we're at an important stage in our history.  I'm not using this phrase in the way that many use it.  I'm not just saying this to inspire others.  I truly think that we're at a monumental shift in the way that the people of the world are beginning to think.  Sure, there have been many other periods like this and it is important to learn from our past.  The thing is though, I believe we're at a point in present history where we have two choices.  We can either choose inaction and let the world keep spinning out of control and constantly point to the things we don't like about the world and place blame on others or we can do something.

Doing nothing is still choosing something.  It involves the active decision of remaining inactive.  I want so desperately to have an impact on the lives of those around me and I don't want it as something that will lift me up.  I want to empower others to realize their full potential.  I know that so much of my own time has been wasted sleeping, worrying, overanalyzing, and planning for days that have long since passed.  So how do I encourage others to change if I'm not willing to change myself? That's the thing though, I desperately want to change I'm just too nervous about the implications that it will have.

I often feel so stuck, like a butterfly on flypaper.  How do I get out of here?  And I wonder: Am I just trying to escape my current circumstances for a temporary release?  I don't think that is the case most of the time, though there are times when I do fall victim to such thinking.  How do I change others' thinking without coming from an imperialist conquistador perspective?  I want to work for change alongside others, not for them.

So one small step that I am taking is the one I'm doing right now: writing this Blog.  Having an outlet to share my thoughts and ramblings on life is a way for me to begin to change my thinking.  It's a place that I can look back on later in life and see how I have changed, see what I have done.  It's also a place where I hope to encourage others to critically think about how they are living their lives.  Are we living today or are we reminiscing yesterday?  Are we embracing the time in the hallway between one door and the next, or are we focused only on the door at the end of the hall?  Surely that room will be better, I just have to leave the dungeon I'm living in and all will be healed.  We must learn to embrace the hallway moments, fleeting though they are, and when we come across something that must be changed we must strive to make that happen.  We can no longer just sit on the sidelines and point fingers at the players, we have to take action and join the game.

To sit is a verb and verbs are action words.  If we are choosing to sit down we are choosing to settle for the status  quo.  That is fine if the status quo is what you want, but I do not want to sit down and be complacent.  I want to take action.  So let's get off our butts and move!  And yes, that's a "we," I am talking to myself as much as I am talking to you.  Let's go!

nŏ-stāl'jə, nə-

Listening to old songs from different parts of my life is like looking through a scrapbook.  Scenes from my life come back to life like a movie I fell asleep watching.  I listen to the memories with mostly fondness.  There is some sort of longing to go back there, though I know I can only be here.  My time machine only moves forward.

I see old days of looking through pages.  Living a life that I thought was just a shadow.  Much like right now, I know that life is only here and now but I can't help but reflect on the past and ponder the future.  What would life had been if I had said how I felt?  Where would we be if I had apologized sooner?  What if I had chosen my first choice instead of my second?  What if I had stayed another year?

I cannot keep thinking like this.  I'll drive myself mad if I do.

That's enough for now.

Over Thinking

I've nearly called a suicide prevention hotline multiple times.  This isn't a cry for help, though in some ways perhaps it is.  It's really a struggle to get out how I feel when I'm around other people.  There are many reasons for this.  The first is that whenever anyone asks the question, "how are you?" most of us respond with hardly a second thought.  I try to be intentional about how I live, including the words that I choose to say, but it's not always easy.  Also, sometimes I'm not sure that the meanings I've attached to some words have the same meanings that others have placed on them.  Could the response "I'm alright" be interpreted as someone having no complaints, with the interpretation that nothing is really wrong right now, but rather everything is right or all of life is right?  It's understandable how so few words can be interpreted in so many ways.  Language is a complex issue and yet something like 40% of our communication is done verbally.

A similar reason for why it's often difficult for us to share how we're feeling involves the uncomfortableness in sharing how we're truly feeling.  I recently read somewhere that it's much easier to say "yes" than "no" when asked to do something because a no requires an explanation.  Agreeing to do something by answering "yes" to a request is sometimes easier because it doesn't require us to explain why we would or would not like to do something.  Similarly, when someone asks us how we are it is much simpler to just respond with a quick response with little to no real thought.

Telling someone that you're not doing very well may put both the asker and the responder in an awkward position.  First of all, the asker may regret having asked the question in the first place, thinking something to the effect of, "I was just asking how you are to be polite, I'm not exactly interested in your life story."  These exact words may not be going through the asker's mind but I think that somewhere along the line society has taught us that most of the time when we ask someone how they are doing, it is mostly out of common courtesy and not from a place of genuine concern.  An exception to this comes when we find ourselves talking with a close friend or family member with whom we feel we can place our trust.  Having someone who will empathize (not sympathize) with us can be crucial in moments of deep despair.

As I mentioned before, it is not only the asker who may feel uncomfortable with an uncommon answer.  The responder, who desires to be truthful on the one hand and not a burden on the other, may find it challenging to find the middle ground between these two responses.  Someone who is feeling less than "well" may be hesitant to share that with others with the fear that (s)he may be misunderstood.  Perhaps the person with whom (s)he shares may blow the situation out of proportion.  I must admit here though that there are many people in this world who genuinely care for others and I am so thankful for these people.  Also, I know that sometimes we may just feel that we don't have time to sit with someone and discuss how their every feeling.  However, when you find yourself falling into that second category I challenge you to remind yourself of a time when you were feeling distraught and felt as if you had no one with whom you could speak.  How much of a difference would it have made to you to have someone just sit with you and listen for a minute?  Perhaps you didn't even know how to express how you were feeling, but just having someone sitting there in the silence with you would make all the difference.

So sometimes we may not say anything because we don't want to burden others.  Similarly, we may choose not to just sit and be with someone simply because we feel ill-equipped.  It is not that we aren't willing to sit with the hurting person, we've just convinced ourselves that nothing we can do or say will help.  It could be true that nothing we say will help a person to snap out of his/her downward cycle but what is the alternative?  Sitting in silence with someone could save a life.  I would like to make an important point that it is important to ask the person what you might do to help and possibly suggest if (s)he would like you to sit with him/her.  Sometimes people may just need to be alone with their thoughts for a time.  Other times people will welcome a companion as they wrestle through seemingly unexplainable thoughts and/or feelings.  The important thing is to ask what is best appropriate at that time.

So what do we do with all of this?  I think the answer is twofold: First, when asking people how they are we must really mean it and be willing to accept the response.  Second, when people ask us how we are, we must be willing to state the truth and accept empathy from others.  We can go on thinking that people are against us and that we are in this alone, but that will only isolate us further.  If we speak truthfully about our feelings and let others into our lives, we may be surprised at the amount that people really care about us.

Through all of this there is one additional point that I would like to make: choosing empathic responses is choosing to feel with someone, while choosing sympathetic responses is choosing to feel for someone.  When someone around us is experiencing a difficult time it is immeasurably more helpful to figure out how to feel alongside that individual than it is to feel sorry for him/her.  Perhaps we move to showing sympathy more often because it is so much easier.  However, if we can learn to be more empathic, I strongly feel that we will be better equipped to build deeper and lasting relationships.

Finally, I just want to reference my initial sentence before I end this post.  Though I have recently been in a rather dark place I have no intention of ending my own life.  It is not that I want to kill myself, but rather I want to live my life alive.  I've been pretty isolated lately which leaves me to my own thoughts, which can get pretty dark.  However, I have hope that life will go on and that I'm going to make it.  I know that life will never really be rainbows and butterflies and it's foolishness to believe that the happy moments are the only ones that matter.  At any rate, I will go on living and look forward to continuing to share this life with you all and growing ever closer to you.

Quitter

It's not a word I want in my vocabulary.  Or maybe it's just not a word that I don't want to have a preference toward.  Everything in my life lately feels so much like nothing that I just don't know where to turn anymore.  I'm running out of options and I'm running without moving.  Where do I go? I'm stuck in this lonely, though populated desert.  Who do I talk to?  I don't want this life to just be on repeat as it is lately.  Nor do I desire to be a statistic.  So what then?

Do I quit?  Do I start something new?  What does it look like to start over?  How does one do such a thing?  I don't know what to do anymore.  Everything seems like nothing and I'm repeating myself.  All these connections feel like dialup.  They feel like there is barely meaning.  Meanwhile I've been at work for over two hours and no one else has even showed up.  So then what?

Do I check myself in?  Do I try and rise myself?  Who is there?  Why do I feel so much like an island in this sea of people?  What people?  Where?  Help.  I don't know what's going on.  I don't know where to go.  I'm stuck.  Houston is a flypaper of comfort.  Who will help me?  Help is a cry, but not a shout for sympathy.  Help is a gentle whisper with my mouth closed for empathy.  For togetherness.  Who is here?  Who will hear?  Help.

How do I help if I can't help?  Help.

Am I an Island?

One quick thing before I go.  Motivation comes slowly these days.  I can go to the bookstore, browse more books.  I can sleep on the sofa.  I can even leave my apartment in an attempt to get something done.  The problem is once I get there my mind seems to stop working.

Depression is real.  I don't want to use it as a crutch but that even seems to be a way for it to get to me.  "Don't claim depression as a reason for your problems," it tells me, "you're just being lazy and anyone else would be doing something in your situation."  That's just not fair!  I want so desperately to get these things done but I feel blank.

Meanwhile, I feel like an island or a lighthouse.  Everyone's just sailing passed me.  A bird almost flew into me, how does that happen?  Anything I do feels like nothing, yet it requires so much more effort than usual.  Some people might say to just join up with people and talk about it.  It seems so easy but it's not.  I'm stuck here at a place where I feel like I can't really move forward.  The main group of people that I could potentially be reaching out to don't seem to be the right ones.  Am I being too picky?

Help.  Help.  Help.

But remember empathy, not sympathy.

The Bookstore

It's a bank of knowledge we're all just wandering around.  Some with nothing particular in mind.  Others are looking for something specific.  Something to gift to a neighbor, to a brother, a sister, a spouse, a friend.  However it is not of the them that I intend to speak.

I'm one of the wanderers.  I meander between the shelves, catching excerpts of revolutionary minds, hearing young, inquisitive minds wondering aloud to their parents.  Some of those with small feet and still developing minds are set free.  "Go explore for yourself while I get my work done," says the look of a mother to her daughter.  This place is perhaps the biggest jungle.  Setting one's mind free here offers a myriad of dangers, a seemingly limitless opportunity for growth.  We can read the words, or simply be observed by the illustrations, photographs, and depictions and something is entering into our minds.  It doesn't matter if we're acknowledging it or not, the knowledge, experience, and exposures are seeping into our systems.

You can take our threads and turn us into something.  There are threads of others that we tie to our own stories, some by choice and others slip stealthily into our subconscious.  Perhaps they're right to fear the unknown, after all they don't know it.  They don't know what they fear.  They only know what they've already experienced.

Tie me into something else.  Something that still is me.  Something that can connect me with those outside.  Tie me to the world outside.  Tie what is within to the the insides of those outside.  We're all connected.  This is a brief cross-section of humanity dissected.

Who will zoom in?

My street doesn't even show up on a map.  Not unless you zoom in.  Perhaps that's the metaphor I'm looking for, though in all reality it's not a metaphor I'm looking for.  It's life.  It's living.  I'm seeking connection.  It seems selfish but I just want to be heard, to be listened to.  I'm so isolated in this living thing.  Who is going to take me as I am?  Who is going to take me from here?

Why can't I make it myself?  Myself I'm not nothing, nor am I no one.  I need to be in a place where I give it all up.  I give everything away.  It doesn't necessarily mean becoming destitute or even poor.  It means not having to rely on anything but the One that matters.  I'm not really sure what that looks like but I've got a guide.

I'm out of words already.

Is there ever

just everything?

Pieces of my heart

My heart is a collage,
a slowly fading mirage,
the pin that pokes you
on your corsage.

My heart is a collage.

Break me Open

"Quit acting out of fear that you call love."

Why does anyone have to feel alone?  Well, truly we don't have to feel alone.  Why do we feel alone?  We never really are, but I want something more than cold and empty words.  I want words that touch me deep inside.  I want connection.  I desire to be fulfilled that I run in a full sprint toward comfort.  Comfort is not connection.  Connection can involve comfort, but when I'm impatient and I want something now, comfort is waiting at the door.  She's such an easy sell.  She seems to whisper my name.  She doesn't even have to yell.

So I strive to ignore her voice.  I strive to turn the other way and go down the longer, more challenging path.  And she follows me.  It's so hard to keep walking in the right direction.  Thankfully, I have a Guide that picks me up and turns me back around every time I lose my footing or turn the other way.  My Guide doesn't tire of turning me around.  My Guide disciplines me when necessary.

And along this path everything is perfect.  It's crazy how it works, the perfection in this broken world.  Everything is in its right place and yet nothing is right.  We've been put together, though we're falling apart.  We've been rescued, though we're still struggling to stay afloat.  We're encouraged to throw the life vest to others while we stay afloat ourselves.  But the journey is not a lonely one.  When we share the life preserver with others we somehow manage to gain better footing.  And stranger still, it's not just because we've done something good for another that we begin to realize that we can swim.  We are learning that we are not alone in this fight and we believe.

I don't want just words.  I want life.  I want depth.  Rattle me to the bone, though I'm scared to mean it.  Mold me.  I know nothing is impossible with You.  Please take the barrel off of my forehead.  Remove it from inside my mind.  Wash me so that white can again be a color of purity.  Wash me so that I can be found in You and You can be found in me.  Wash me clean and remind me I'm Yours.  And You're mine.

And teach me humility, not self-deprecation.  Teach me to love my neighbors as myself.  As myself.  And as myself.  And teach me to not judge those around me and teach remove these chains from inside my chest.  Free me.

Democracy is Not Supreme

I'm sorry.

I can't apologize for who we've been.  I can't apologize for others.  I can't apologize for something I didn't do.  Well..I can..but it just isn't the same.

It wasn't that long ago.  No, it's actually still going on.  We think we know what's best for others.  We need to stop being the police of the world.  Perhaps I'm bias toward the validity of the profession that I've chosen, but why can't we be the social worker of the world?  A good social worker knows she is not the expert, rather her client is the expert on his situation.

Dear King Democracy,

I can't believe I even have to tell you this.  It may come as a shock to you, but you're not the only way.  You're not the only true path.  Other systems work in other areas of the world.  Tell Hoover he can put me on his list.  I don't care.  I'm not going to follow you into the dark.  I know that there are other ways.  In fact, there are better ways.  Sure, democracy may work for you, but it's not all there is.  There are multiple pathways to "prosperity," if you want to call it that.

I can see why you try so hard to keep others down.  You're just prolonging the inevitable.  We're all destined for destruction.  No human system is without flaws.  You think you can keep living off the spoils of others but there will come a day when you run out of peoples, resources, and republics to exploit.  Then who will you turn to?  Who will be your ally at that time?  It won't matter how much money you accumulated.  Your statue will fall and who will still be willing to show you grace and mercy?  To whom did you show it?  Will there be anyone left on your side or will you have taken at least a little bit from everyone?

We must stop evangelizing the message that democracy is the only way.  There are other ways to go about this life.  Just because something worked for one person, or even several people, doesn't mean it will work for them all.  We can assist when called upon.  There may be sometimes when people ask us for help.  Granted, human pride does not always permit us and our sisters and brothers to seek help when we most need it.  So, there are questions that are have yet to be answered, we must have the humility to acknowledge that.  We cannot go around telling others that we have all the answers, thus perpetuating the cycle of the imperialist western empire.  How can any country, or any man even, go around telling others what is right when all of us fall flat on our faces?

If democracy, or any system here, is your skeleton key that will open every necessary door in the world and lock the excess away, I will hesitate to believe your message.  Because just like me, you're flawed in your very being and nothing on this Earth will solve everything.  I just hope you know.

One can't just retreat from life

We'll get there someday.  I'm not really sure where exactly, but we're on our way.  I've got a feeling we're heading there, some days faster than others.  The smoke in the rearview mirror clears and we're left thinking that life isn't exactly as we thought it was at the time.

I wanted to write a little bit today but the words aren't coming as easily as I expected.  Now it's more just a collection of words attached to videos and perhaps that is all it's meant to be this time.

I get the feeling that a time for a post of more vicariousness is coming soon as well, but I will leave that for that time.

So as I sit here and listen to the music raining down on my ears, the words come slowly.  I'm awaking slowly as the world lays down to sleep.  I'm falling down but not remaining.  You'll see me rise again.   We'll make it together.  Don't worry about me.  Everything is coming together.  I'm just learning that living is every moment, not just the ones we choose (to share).

I'm so glad I'm not always right

"I knew You'd never forgive me.
And I was wrong.  And I'm so so sorry."

You banished me from the garden

for
    my
         own
                good
                but
                ultimately
                for
                Your
         own
                glory.

Dig me up
                by my roots
and plant me
                back where
life is fresh
                and brand new.

Tumbleweeds (or Seasonal Snowballs)

I didn't imagine the snowballs would be bigger in Texas.  Here they're just called tumbleweeds.  Here my mind fractures and gathers fertilizer to expand its cracks.

I try to sit down to get one thing done.  Then all I do is sit for hours avoiding work.  I've got to get going somewhere.  Currently the only place I'm going is crazy and I don't know how to get back on the right track.  I'm not myself anymore, though I don't want to be my medicated self.  I'm not the one I like to be, though have I ever been?  I feel like I'm running in circles and I'm not even moving.  I feel like I need to be kicked, and kicked hard.  My mind races in slow motion.  My heart says don't let me fall out of life and that there's little motivation.

The world is falling apart.  It's spinning out of control and no one seems to be here to stop it.  If I attempt to stop and solve one thing, the china I'm carrying fall to the floor.

Inject me with some adrenaline.  Perhaps I need the motivation.  Though, I don't want to just be given more energy.  Then I really will go crazy.  Some days I make a list and it works.  Some days I make a list and it makes my heart shrink.  Where do I start?  Have I waited too long on some of these things?  It's as if someone is punching me in the head over and again.  It's not a headache though; my mind runs rampant and I can't really stop it.  So I try to sleep and hope to wake up to it being better.

This, again, is depression with the flavor of anxiety.  It's bitter in my mouth.  I try to remember eating something not tarnished with the bitter flavor and little comes to mind.  My mind is a measuring rod, ever stretching, though not expanding.  Inside is a fish swimming and these incomplete thoughts consume me.

Who is going to make it better?  I'm breaking from the inside out.  I can't always go on like this.  If I'm always relying on others then eventually loneliness will be lonelier.  Though I must be humble enough to accept help from others.  Forget the independent nature of this western nation.  Will the motherland ever take me back?  Still, I don't belong here and I know it.  Likewise, "this world has nothing for me and this world has everything."  It all depends where you're looking and which world you're talking about.

Perhaps I'll just end this with a simple request:
help.

With what, I'm not sure, but I just feel I could use some help.

Insight from Someone on the Inside

It just feels so good to talk about it.  I'm not trying to say that that's the only way that it's true, but it sure does help.  The tears welling up felt so good, and perhaps that was necessary.  Maybe that will keep Saturn's rings at bay.  Or rather, around my head they will not stay.  It's like something's moving outside me, though I know it's coming from the inside.  Does that make any sense to you?  How do you describe something to someone when you yourself think you're crazy?

Who needs onions?  I've got life experiences.  Maybe you're right, confrontations are just a part of life.  I can think about so many things, like what needs to be done, but when the rings begin circling again I'm stuck.  Or am I running?  I don't want to feel this way but I don't really know how to describe it without seeming crazy, or without it appearing that I'm making it up for attention.  I'm really not, you know.  These thoughts really are distressing.  They're very real.  So much so, they seem to manifest themselves as something other than thoughts.  These cognitions feel more like apparitions that I cannot see but nevertheless feel very real.

In addition to Saturn's rings, they sometimes manifest themselves in the form of an old film.  The horizontal lines travel down my upper body, staying mostly near my head.  It doesn't feel any better, in case you were curious.

How can I write down my automatic thoughts, their behaviors, and alternate thoughts to challenge them with all of this going on inside?  I try to do that but it seems that I get stuck during the first two steps, most times ruminating on the first.  Yes there are times that I make it all the way to the point of developing challenging thoughts, but they don't seem to be very productive.  They are made of much less substance than the automatic thoughts and the behaviors associated with them.  Perhaps, as I've previously thought, it is not the primary thoughts that really seem to matter, but rather the secondary thoughts.  This is particularly true when the initial thoughts are incomplete, meaning I know their potential or where they are leading and I don't allow my mind to think them all the way through.

So after all, it seems like some of the verbalization does seem to help.  Maybe especially as an extroverted recharger living alone in a new city.  It's not that new to me, but it's still only been a year.  There is still much to be explored, so we'll see where the stairs lead from here.  I don't want to find my identity in someone else, unless it is the One that really matters.  However, excessive time to myself doesn't only lead to regret.  It is also a feeding grown for negativity and beginning to believe some of the falsehoods.  Therefore, if I talk your ear off please forgive me, very few responses may be necessary, just let me know you're here.  Let me know you hear.  And validate the truth.  And challenge the lies.

Please
and
thank you.

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Not Quite In-Between, but a Helpful Description

"My name it ain't nothin',
my age it means less"

Is there a blindfold on your heart's eyes?  Or perhaps better put it, maybe its ears have been covered and something's muzzling the sound coming from this direction.

"can't waste time
when it comes time
to dance"

I've even had words here but sometimes you take them from me.  You don't steal them.  Maybe it's just that I don't properly seal them.  Therefore, I think thoughts thoroughly and by the time my mind and hands have the time to speak the translation has gone missing.  So I don't blame you, and really who could?  In fact, these words must have a better purpose.  And who knows, perhaps in the future a manuscript in my mind will be found and my hands will be better equipped to transcribe the cognitions at that time.

There are sometimes words that make little sense to anyone around.  Sometimes they're for later.  Sometimes they might just be clouds of verbal air.  And still, sometimes they might be a vessel for yet unknown truths.

I'm really not sure what it all means but life is still the in-between.  In-between is often all there is.  All we have.  If we live from event to place to mountaintop to valley, life wouldn't be living, it'd be hopscotch.  Or it would be leapfrog.  As much as we may wish for it to be one of those things, it's important to live in the flat moments.  The gray moments.  The Swiss moments.  Flat lines and endless paths, hallways and seemingly endless roads, they all are in-between.  And though they are in-between, they are still life.

Do not forget
that, they are
still life.

And for those who remain curious,
"the country
I come from
is called
the Midwest"

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A Simple Hello

"Hello my old heart" and there sure "ain't no gift like the present tense."

We'll get there is how I somehow want to start this one.  Or something about when we'll get there, but the truth is we're already here.  Maybe the key is not in the seeking to find, not the escapism but the contentment (not complacency) in who, what, when, and where we are.

So that's really it for this one, but if you look further, though not farther, you'll soon find more, unless you've already found it, which I imagine you have.

Does Out-of-Body Stem From Within the Body?

In this out-of-body experience it's hard to feel myself.  I'm not saying it's hard to feel a thing.  On the contrary,  I feel much when my mind is outside my brain.  Is it brokenness?  Is it mental illness?  Is it a diet destruction?  Or perhaps it's a demon seeking to demonstrate his power.  I'm not really sure what it is, left or right, up or down.  What I do know is that it's distressing.  Not exactly depressing because it's not really sadness.  Though at the same time it can seem darker.  Yes somehow it's darker, though it's like looking through cellophane at my surroundings, all the while trying to make sense of the words that my ears are hearing.  Have I told you yet: it's difficult to describe, perhaps even harder to to discern.

And then, in those moments when my mind returns to the space between my ears, the words I hear are all bleak.  That may not always be the case, though it was on this night.  I was fortunate to be able to decompress these thoughts with others this time.  Not only that, but I was encouraged to discover that the bleakness I felt was not just in my own head.  The illness demonstrated didn't seem to be a resounding theme for others however.

Even now, as I type some of this out and wrestle with its meaning and purpose I begin to feel the phantom inside my head trying to make its way out into the open.  I suppress it's eagerness to escape, or to even be given the chance at life.  However, it is far from my desire to imprison it within my own mind.  I could let it free, if it was up to me, but could I live with myself if that meant it would be tormenting someone else?  Someone, perhaps, whose will may not be as strong?  Or maybe I could take measures to mask it with other feelings and poor interpretations and rationales as to what and why it is.

When I felt it earlier, it felt as a tangible weakness.  It was as something I could touch with my third eye, though I could not push it away.  I could occasionally tuck it away so as to focus on the words my ears were hearing, but it only came back, sometimes stronger than before.  Then I had a strange epiphany: could these be the moments where I am stronger in weakness?  So I prayed.  I didn't really know what to say, but I prayed.  Though they may not have seemed like the right words, or even many words at all, they seemed to be just enough.  Again, I'll reiterate what I've said before, that the God we serve is not a formula.  It is not because I said the right thing at the right time that I began to find some peace in my experience.  No, it is through grace that I receive what I do not deserve.

So now I'm just sitting here reflecting on the moments that have passed me by.  Meanwhile, I periodically feel the phantom stretching himself, trying to escape to where he's just outside my head though still somehow in my mind.  Who can understand the visible spectrum we live in?  Perhaps the colors we don't see hide the spiritual realm.  We don't appear to be meant to see beyond our scope, though at times some individuals are given brief glimpses into that invisible world that surrounds us and perhaps somehow also lives inside us.  As for my current situation, I will move forward in the sensory world, though aware that there is more beyond these five input systems.  There has to be.  I can feel it!

Something about the Moon

There's something about the moon.  That mystery.  That magic.  The way it seems to hang from the sky so nonchalantly.  Not a care in the world.  It's not even in the world.  She's content to shine as she feels throughout the month.  Some days she'll only reveal a part of herself and she is totally fine with that.  She doesn't feel the need to conform to the world's standards.  She knows she'll be accepted no matter the circumstances.  The stars won't abandon her to the sun, even if she chooses not to show up one night.  She's content.  She isn't looking to find herself in someone else.  She's humble.  She doesn't mind receiving the warmth of the sun and accepts that he may ever be her only source of light.  She doesn't accept it as one without choice or self-determination.  Nor does she accept it begrudgingly.  She just trusts.  She doesn't fear a lack of acceptance, but rather is content to know that she will always be provided for.  She may be the sun's stepdaughter, though you wouldn't know from her words.  She doesn't mouth off to her companions about how he mistreats her, for after all he doesn't.  He actually loves her well and she is thankful for it.  Nor does she sit in silence for fear of being heard.  She knows exactly what she needs.  There's that glow, though silent, she speaks words long hidden but somehow understood through the generations.  If she smiling down on you, the least you can do is smile back.

Perhaps Tomorrow Will Consist of More Thorough Thoughts

You can't sell the Gospel.  God will not be exploited.  His love will not be your ploy.  His message will not be the sideline to get to your point.  I am convinced.

I cannot sit back and be lukewarm.

Take me far away from here.  Keep me close and draw me near.  I've found the perfect path and am still looking.

The heat evaporates my energy.  The love relaxes my muscles.  I cannot make it.  I can.  Because I is we.  You're here with me.  You have called me "Not abandoned."  You have chosen me, not forsaken. How can I repay You, but to live every part of me in You?  It's so hard, but You're true.  You know what I need.  You are what I need.  In You I am complete.

The words may have once again evaporated, though some remain.  We'll leave it here this time.  We'll make it.  We'll make it out alright.  Or more than fine.

Gracias por Tu Gracia

Grace.  You're teaching me grace.
Given freely, though I far from deserve it.
You can try to work toward it.
Or try and pray harder, clearer, more sincere,
but it won't matter.

Grace.  We don't earn it.
We don't deserve it.
And grace.  It's all we need.

Some days I'll work harder,
some days I feel like fodder destined for fire.
Like it'd be better to chain me
with a fetter.

And somehow
You're grace comes creeping in.
You save Your grace
for the perfect place.
The perfect time
and the perfect space.

But what about mercy?
The emphasis there
seems on the life to come.
Still, let mercy abound
and show me how to
share this gift I've found.

It seems to please You
to give freely,
to give when
we least expect it.

Increased effort
to earn Your grace
will never put us
in an advanced place.

Grace is all over this place,
You let us soak it in.
You pour over us
and You don't hold back.

Perhaps sometimes
this grace is Your embrace.
A way to show us
You're still here.
To say,
"I've not forgotten you,
now don't you forget me."

Job had patience,
still somehow
his faith was not wavering.
He trusted You
and that's all he needed.

Of all people
he seemed the most eligible.
Grace is patient faith.
Job did nothing
deserving of disgrace
and he was met with destruction.
Still somehow he waited.
He knew He could
count on Your grace.

Thank You for still
letting me experience it
in this place.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

El Corazón cursivo

All things go.  All things go.  How can it be both of us?  How is it the same?  Who knew there could be a love that is so mutual?  It's teaching me of the love I must love.  And it's a reflection of the love I'm made of.  How can this be true?  How can you want me like I want you?

When you're through with my heart don't tear it apart.  I give it to you and I trust you.

How long will you embrace me?

How long will this face be

so close you can almost taste me?

I'm asleep.

Asleep with words just leaking out.

There's a flood inside, though not of words.

There's a flood inside, I'm full of emotion.

Pick me up in your boat.

I'm drowning in your ocean.

I go crazy and somehow come back again.

I get lazy and work so hard again.

I fall asleep and it's hard to wake up in this reality.

Life is a dream and I imagine I'll wake up soon.

Help.

Don't leave.

Help.

There is love.

Love is enough.

Love is strong.

Love is vulnerability.

Love is like in the shape

of a sideways eight.

Love means yes

we'll wait.

You'll make it.

We'll make it.

I'll make it.

Examine my heart

and try not to scrape it.

It's been battered and bruised,

tattered and torn,

broken to pieces,

and often reborn.

These words are like longhand

from my heart;

they're so intricately connected,

so finely woven together.

They flow so freely

and my heart rolls out.

It's putty on pages

living love in stages,

earning silently its wages,

remembering intently

the words of the sages.

Don't leave.

Don't think.

Don't listen

to the words

not spoken.