The thing about our feelings is no one else feels them. Others can relate but still, this is us. I am me. You are you. It’s just that simple.
I don’t know what 10lbs. feels like in your arms. I don’t know what it feels like to lift something heavy with your strength. I only know what weight feels like to me. And sometimes life just feels too heavy.
Am I right?
We have our ideas and our opinions, which have been trained by our the perception of our experience.
But beware of your thoughts. They are not always real.
Be mindful that feelings are not fact and neither are expectations.
I see you know. You are young and everything is new. You are on the verge of a new chapter, which is great.
In fact now, these days are the best days. You and I are living in amazing times. No, really. It’s the truth.
This is the beginning. This is where you make your start. This is where you get ready to make your mark on the world. We go back to the old saying, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life!” because it is, regardless to how old you are.
I want to be helpful to you. But the best way to be helpful is to be honest.
This is life.
There will be good times and bad. There will be disappointments and letdowns but there will be moments that are so astounding, no words I can write will match how amazing you will feel.
There is a word for this. it’s called “Victory.”
It’s a feeling known as “Victorious,” and you will have this; perhaps not in your time or in your perfect ways, but this will be here for you.
I must never
lend myself to the ideas that just because I am hurt or tired, or just because
something did not (or will not) go my way, and just because something I invested
deeply, heart and soul in, but yet the outcome fell to pieces before I reached
my goal, I cannot lend myself to the idea that, “This is it!” and it’s over.
I am not sure what today means to you anymore. I am not saying today is not important to you, because I know it is. What I means is I am not sure what we’ve done here.
I am not sure where the pressure began. I can say in all honesty, looking all the way back (like most people) I could create a timeline and see where the major changes occurred that led to the standards I have created for myself. In some cases, the standards I have for myself are as usual and as common as normal, everyday life.
In other instances, however, there are standards which I have created for myself that are based from the fears of my past.
There were boundaries created —or better yet, these were barriers set in place, like a line drawn in the sand, which was my statement to be read, loud and clear, and to be heard and aggressively interpreted as, “This will never happen again.”
I have this feeling, which is love, which is mixed with so many things, which makes it difficult for me to speak sometimes, which is why I come here to write, because when I write, there is no stutter, and when you read, I believe you can hear me clearly.
(At least I hope so.)
There has to be a time when the excuses are no excuse at all. This is when accountability changes. This is when it becomes personal. The dedication changes. The mindset changes. More accurately, this is when we change.
There is a quote I think about from Charles Bukowski that says, “Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.”
I think about this quote sometimes.
I think about the times I’ve gone crazy. Then I think about the times when I felt crazy. I think about the hard times and the desperate times. I think about the times I found myself on the poor end of bad decisions.
I think about the times I found myself in the worst places. I think about the jail cells. I think about the office visits of authority figures and the jobs I lost as a result to my behavior or performance. I think about being a divorced dad.
The idea is to overcome adversity,
which is something I understand.
But to overcome adversity,
I must first understand
what adversity means.
There are times when the world turns and for the minute, everything is still. The moment could be crucial or even simple but either way, in the moment, thoughts can be heavy or even gentle. The sky is a large, overhead screen, like a portal to an inestimable version of what we call Heaven. The clouds drift. The wind blows and the sunlight filters down from the sky.
Years ago, we were sitting in the waiting area at an airport and the flight was hours late. I was listening to the nearby passengers on their cell phones. They were arguing out loud about the delay. I was delayed as well —only, the delay was not so bad for me.
Of all things, first and foremost, then first and foremost, I cannot be afraid to step up and rise to the occasion. I cannot afraid or too intimidated to try. I cannot be held down or “held in,” in the sense that I give in to my fears or my doubts, which essentially turns inward, against me, and causes me to shut down or emotionally implode.
I cannot be afraid to fail. I cannot give in to fear. In fact, i cannot even regard these things because of all things, if I am to do anything then I have to do everything I can to be sure that I have done my best.
I have to lay everything out there. Risk it. Do it. By any means necessary.
I am part of a Monday—Friday life in which, come Monday, I am on a bus from a street near my home and heading into New York City to earn my living and pay my bills. I do this for the same reason as most people. I want to have a certain kind of life. I want nice things. I have to drive so I need a car. I need insurance. I need to invest and spend wisely; otherwise, it becomes hard to have financial stability I hope to achieve.
I think there needs to be a new approach in the way we deal with things. I think we need to change our way of questioning the world and trying to find answers to questions that make no sense.
Many ask the question, “Why?” as if there could be a simple answer to life’s complex things. People ask “Why?’ about the tragedies that have no explanation and could never be explained. We ask why but oftentimes the answers have nothing to do with logic. And yet, there we are, all of us are still asking the question, “Why?”
There is not much we can really say about the seeable or the unforeseeable future. Everything is subject to change, which it can and it does.
Take now, for example. I am sitting in a seat, flying more than 32,000 miles above the ground and heading from one side of the country to the other. I am not new to this kind of trip, but yet somehow, each time the trip seems to change. Then again, each trip I took was taken for a different reason. Each time I flew out west, I flew with a different intention.
Of all things I know, I know for sure that life is an eventual and an inevitable process. Life happens. Things begin and also, things end at a time when we least expect them to.
Life is always changing. This happens every day, even when we don’t want it to. Life is unavoidable. Trust me on this because sometimes we learn this lesson the hard way.
I know what it means to sit across from someone that “Knows it all,” and needs to show that they “Know it all.” And I know that I know this is about them. Not me. However, the way I see it is this is part of the problem.
Whether this is religion, economics, politics, or even if it is as simple as my doctor is better than yours; everyone has this strange need to be validated as being right. But to what avail?
Is this helpful? Or, how does this look to the browbeaten and tired? How does this interact with someone looking to change or better themselves?
Is this going to help someone come out from behind a problem and say, “Hey, can you please help me?”
I don’t think so . . .
Before moving forward,
I think it is only fair to realize
that success is a relative idea.
This one will run a little deep. So, fair warning, there will be emotion in this entry. What I mean is this one might seem a little too emotional, or too deep, only, not in a bad way.
This is more in a truthful way, which can hurt because after all; it’s like the old saying. “The truth hurts.”
See, if you are anything like me or if you are anything like most of the population, it you find yourself lost but trying to find your way, or if you are anything like me in the case that we feel too much, too often, and that life happens on a regular basis without our concern or consent; and, or, if you are anything like me and all you really want is to find your best road to happiness, or to live successfully without the constant hindrance of underlying fears of disappointment (or rejection,) then you are like me in the sense that we have to find some kind of inspiration to keep moving.
We are approaching the holiday season and soon enough, the Halloween decorations will give way to Thanksgiving. Next, it will be Christmas and then New Year’s.
Like many others, this time of year can be weighty for me. My family is mostly gone. Some have moved away. Some are not on speaking terms. Others have passed and all that remain is their loving memory. However, I have this memory, which I would like to share with you.
I believe with all my heart in the personal trinity. However, before I move forward, I would like to be clear that in this sense, the word “Trinity” in not used in the same sense as the Holy Trinity or in the Biblical sense.
This is not about religion at all. Instead, this is about personal balance and stability.
For this entry, the idea is to see us as a unison of three. We are mind, body, and soul. We are thought, emotion, and behavior. This is our trinity.
We are the threefold of memory, experience, and opinion. We are also the three combined, which are the hindbrain, midbrain, and the forebrain.
How many times have you been your own worst critic? How many times have you heard someone tell you that you have to stop beating yourself up? Out of all the times, how often did you listen and how often did you continue to do what they said, “Not to,” and continued to beat yourself up?
I have been
thinking about the ideas of ours. I was thinking about the assumptions we have,
which to assume, means to take on, to own or invest in. To assume something is to
take for granted or come to an opinion without fact.
I like to look up simple words in the dictionary. I look up simple, everyday words and break them down to their true meaning.
Because I use these words so often that I overlook the actual meaning.
Like the word “If.”
Every month I pay this thing we call a mortgage. This means I own a home. I have other payments as well, like my two car payments. One of which I own and the other is a lease.
The lease is like a temporary partnership. I am happy to report my other car payment ends in about a month or two. This means the car is all mine. I own the above items (except for the lease.)
I have some clothes too. I own some tools. I have a small tractor that I keep in my shed. At the moment, the tractor is in need of repair but it is still mine, which reminds me; I have a snowblower that needs my attention too. So does my main generator. I have an older generator but it has not run for quite some time. Either way, these things are mine.
I am not sure where the intensity comes from. I have never been so clear on why we overthink or over-analyze. More to the point, I am not sure why we relive conversations in our head, which are painful, yet we revisit them frequently, like the plague of an unwanted guest that refuses to leave.None finds this helpful. At least, not really. but yet, most people can relate to rehashing a conversation in their mind and wishing they had said things differently
I see myself as a searcher. I suppose I always have been. Then again, I suppose we all are.
We’re the same when it comes to this. We’re all searching, —even when we find what we want, we still look, we still question, and we still wonder.
Life is evolving. It never stops. Like it or not, life keeps moving regardless to the plans we make. Either way, it’s true. Life is a journey. It’s a quest. I believe this with all my heart and so should you.
There is one fact that is often overlooked when discussing the behaviors of an addict, drinker, or users of different kinds. First and foremost, the fact that anyone expects logic to take place is inaccurate. Logic does not live here. Logic and compulsion do not speak or interact in this case at all.
In fact, compulsion is the counteraction of logic. Although, intellectually, the user or the drinker may understand this, below this understanding is the drive and the need to overcome a feeling, a want, an idea, or an opinion that does nothing else but linger in the mind. Beneath the intellectual and logical understanding is the seemingly unchangeable belief system that cannot see life in any other way.
A little boy looked up at his father and asked if superheroes are real. The father looked down at his young boy, proud as could be, and smiled lovingly the way a father smiles at his child. The father inhaled deeply to fill his lungs, and remarked, “Absolutely!” because the father knew, wholeheartedly, there is such a thing as super heroes.
And there are . . .
Life happens and we know this. We know this because life happens to us all the time. The time moves and the world turns. We know about this too, but yet, we can’t feel the Earth spin. We just know it happens.
And time, well, time is this ever moving machine, slow and steady, regardless to what we say.
We tend to forget that whether we choose to or not, it is okay to let the past be the past. It’s okay to let this rest.
Or better yet, rather than relive and incident, over and over again, and rather than re-have a conversation that cannot possibly happen again, and rather than rehearse ourselves and rehearse what we would say is just such an occasion should rise again, or better yet, rather than reword and relitigate in the same conversation, only we change the answers to something we wished we would of or could of said, we have to come to the understanding that none of this is possible. None of this is beneficial. In fact, all the rehearsals and all the reliving and relitigating only digs us in deeper. No matter how we try, there is nothing more unalterable than yesterday,
There will come a time when all of a sudden, a light comes on, and just like that, we see things a bit more clearly. We see things in a new way. Maybe we grow. If anything, maybe we grow tired of being afraid.
Something happens that causes us to take notice of the things we never saw before. In whichever way this happens, a light comes on. Maybe we hit a wall. Maybe we just grew tired of living more of the same. Or maybe we just out grew our scene and at last, we decided to change it.
We look around, and suddenly the big bad wolf or the boogie man just isn’t so scary anymore.
There was a time when I was on a basketball team. Perhaps you might remember this. I know I’ve told you about this before so I will spare some of the details and stick to the point.
I was the little skinny kid that could hardly reach the basket when I took a shot remember?
I was smaller than everyone. I was uncoordinated and uncomfortable at my best. I was also different in ways that made this team difficult for me. I was a stranger to the other kids on the team. Or, maybe the other kids were strangers to me. Either way, they all knew each other but they didn’t know me. They were all friends and me, I was this little skinny kid that rode the bench and went to a different school.
I have been watching one of the new buildings rise from the ground up in the middle of New York City. I saw this build from a hole in the ground and reach its tallest peak of more than 1400’ above ground level. The spire is high up with an American Flag at the tip, flying high and waving free. I love this.
I am a firm believer that we are more than meets the eye. I believe we are more than one person.
There is who we see ourselves as and who we try to be. Then there is us. This is the true us. This is where we decide our favorite color. This is where we store our favorite memories. This is where we find our love for music and our favorite songs and we enjoy them regardless to what the rest of the crowd might say.
Snow falls and the town is quiet. It is nighttime and yet the fields are covered in a white blanket, which softens the appeal of the late night hours that come after midnight. The snowy grounds warmly illuminate a dull gray, which is nice to see because this reminds me the snowfall is not a threat, but instead, a reminder to stay in and be warm.
The streets are unused at this hour, which is good, which is why I never minded the idea of living in a small town. I like the quiet now. Perhaps this matches my age. Perhaps this is a sign of maturity. Or, maybe I’ve just outgrown the noise and hustle of New York City.
On nights like this in the mountains, everyone is cuddled in their homes, safe and warm, family is with family, and the entire world around me is hushed to a soft lullaby. I like that.
I am thinking about the words that are said by a referee before the start of a boxing match. This is when they say, “Protect yourself at all times.”
Once the bell rings, the two fighters come out fighting. They have trained to do this.
They have trained to do both; protect themselves at all times and yet, at the same time, they have trained to protect themselves while imposing their way upon their opponent.
Someday they say things will all make sense. Someday the reasons why things happen and why they don’t will become clear. At least, i’m told this will be so. There’s a reason for everything, or, so they say.
I sit like most people, wondering, and thinking too much, too often. I’m a deep thinker, which can make sleep difficult. I have a thousand questions or maybe more. I have a thousand ideas and counting. I think about about life on life’s terms. I think about man’s inhumanity to man and sometimes the inhumanity we cast upon ourselves.
In times like this, I am reminded about the old message that used to come across our television back when I was a kid. This happened whenever the television station lost reception. I believe this was due to atmospheric problems or conditions. A message came across the screen that was followed by a well-spoken voice which explained, “Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.”
There are several times in my life that I met new people. We went through something together. Whatever it was and wherever that something might have been, whether it was a class or just an intense part of life; whether this was during a time of great healing or even back in the days of my treatment, there were people I knew that I swore I would always know forever.
I am thinking now of a time, sitting on an airplane, heading from one side of our country to another. I am reclining back to a comfortable flat position. The stewardess had just kindly offered me a hot towel, which I accepted of course, with thanks.
There is a musician nearby, sitting with some of his entourage, and flying back from his hometown in Jersey. He explained that he was heading back to the West-coast life, which he built for himself with his talent and a guitar. I said nothing to him though—although, admittedly I was an excited fan, I was also here to accompany someone to their previous life with help to create a new one.
You will know when the time comes. you will know when it is time to move on or when to get out or move away. You might not want to know. you might not want to move. Even if you do want to move, sometime, we just don’t understand how to let go.
Either way, you will know when the time comes. We can lie to us all the time but either way, we still know.
Everything will be right there to see. All the facts and all the reasons why will be right there.
They say that adrenaline can release great strength. They say that when we go into emergency survival mode, we can move what would otherwise be unmovable.
I can say I remember when I was a kid and I was playing around with my brother’s weights in the basement. Somehow, the bench fell on me in a way that would be too hard to explain in words. I was trying to crawl through the weight bench and then the entire bench flipped on me.
However, how and why is less important. More important is what happened.
The crash was heard upstairs. Mom shouted down the basement steps asking if I was okay. I answered no.
Before we move forward, let’s be clear. We are doing more than losing weight. We are dropping habits and dropping our old routines. We are dropping our excuses and rationalizations and creating a new hope along with a new vision.
There is more than one aspect to the bullying problem. This is important to understand. Of course, there is the physical side, which is obvious. However, the emotional aspect is even more punishing.
This part lingers in the mind and hides in the cracks of our memory. The emotional influence is the ongoing conversation that doesn’t always go away, reminding us of things “We wished,” we said or did. Bullying hides in the crevices of our subconscious programming, which roots deeply and sprouts our biases. Put simply, bullying is a weed that steals the nutrients meant to feed our soul. This silences laughter and creates internal blame. This shatters identity and damages hope, which, is above all an actual theft of time and services.
My goal is to open doorways to an alternate way of thinking that helps us most. Rather than follow the same patterns and subconscious programs, my aim is to create new ideas that lead to success. I want to create new concepts that will remove the limitations of personal bias.
The idea of wellness is simply balance. This is achieved through a means of practice. The tools that come along with this practice help us with life on a personal level. This also creates freedom with our interpersonal life as well as in the business world and behind the confines of the corporate walls.
The thing about life is it’s enough to drive you crazy. The more we try to make sense of it all is the more we find ourselves insane while trying to understand why things happen. It is beyond me to know why good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good. It is beyond me to understand why children get sick, or worse. I can’t make sense of it. Neither can you. Or maybe you can, but still, I see no explanation that can validate the crazy tragedies we go through.
There is a
word I have heard my entire life. The word is potential. I was always told I
have so much potential.
You have so much potential . . .
You can be anything you want to be . . .
You can do anything you want to do . . .
There was no one else but me in a pair of my ratty blue jeans and my denim jacket. I was dressed in one of me crazy ripped up shirts with a skull on it and standing to the best of my ability in my steel-toe Timberland boots.
Of course, I was equipped with the usual tools of my trade.
I had my pack of smokes and my little pipe. I had my lighter to light my smokes and a sheet of psychedelics, which I was sold off, one piece at a time.
Safe to say,
at some point, I had to realize my memories has often lied to me. At some
point, I realized my opinions, predictions, and fears that churn my worries and
anxiety are based on the inaccuracies of my perception.
I want to see the world from the highest peak, like a picture I once saw as a child of a man standing somewhere high above it all, south of the border with red-brick mountains, defining to me a recollection or reference of an old and unmolested tribe world of Native Indians, which is somewhere high in the peaks of South America. Young as I was, I was old enough to understand there is an entire world out there—and somewhere beyond my imagination and somewhere beyond my wildest dreams is a world I that I hope to see someday.