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.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Friday, August 22, 2014
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, August 18, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, August 4, 2014
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.
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.
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