Sometimes, life is just too short for long conversations.
What I mean is there is entirely too much going on at once. There are too many arguments. There’s too many incidents. There are too many complications, too many complaints, and too many opinions.
There is life happening to us at the speed of about 1,000 miles per hour, every day. This is how fast the Earth spins at the Equator. The Earth rotates every 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4.09053 seconds. This never stops. Scientists say Earth’s spin has slowed down about 6 hours over the past 2740 years, which is a science that I’m sure is too much for me to handle, like say, now, on a Saturday morning before the sunrise.
But either way, there are only so many hours in a day. Nothing will change this. At least, not in our lifetime.
Yearly Archives: 2020
An Offer of Thought
I don’t want to think about what today means. But yet, how could I possibly forget? How could I ever forget what I saw? How does someone remove something like this from their history?
See, I am of the belief that there is hope and there is healing. I am of the belief that healing is not forgetting and feeling is not reliving —It’s only remembering.
Continue readingThe Benefit of Commitment
I don’t come here because I have to. I come here because I choose to.
I want to do this. Otherwise, why bother, right?
Otherwise, life is this forced or coerced thing and commonplace like the rest of attention mongers on social media with their picture perfect smiles, buffed by a filter to seem pristine.
It is September now, day 10 to be exact. The winds outside are calm this morning. I am in the dark with the white light glowing at me from my computer screen. My trusty cup of coffee is to my left, which I’ve just acknowledged by taking a brief pause and a good sip to build the energy it takes to keep me going.
Inner Child Prose: This Thing
I will call this a “Thing” because
there are so many more names to call it.
But either way, I have this “Thing” inside me.
I have this “Thing” in me,
a voice perhaps, or a life, like a child
or a little kid that hides away.
How To Be Helpful
The old saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” I believe this is true.
Then again, sometimes we try to lead a horse to water and the horse isn’t even thirsty.
There are times when we think we are doing the right thing. There are times when we’re only trying to be helpful. But there is something we tend to forget.
Help is a reciprocal agreement. Help has nothing to do with me or you. Help is not about saying the right thing or offering the best possible suggestion. Actually, in crucial times, help is often extremely quiet because listening is usually the most helpful thing we can do.
Labor Day: 9/7/2020
For my day job, I am a union worker in an old building. This building is part of New York City’s history. This is part of our labor’s history as well. Although the doors officially opened in 1929, the building was completed in 1927.
Some of the stories I’ve heard are conflicting. I have been told that my building was the tallest in the world until The Chrysler opened up in 1930. But the history books tell the story differently.
Sometimes I find myself opening up old walls and breaking through old columns to find newspaper clippings from 1927. The paper is brittle and yellow and most often crumpled, which makes it difficult to unfold and read the news.
This One’s For You Kid
Of all things to believe in life, there has to be at least a semblance of hope. There has to be at minimum, at least a trace of light because otherwise, what else is there except for the dimness and the shadows of doubt?
Of all things to believe in, no matter how bad things may seem or how badly one might want to jump from their own skin; no matter how dark it gets or stormy or bumpy the road may seem, there has to be at least a minimum sense of drive.
Morning Prose: My City
I have always been amazed by my City.
I’ve gone through different phases and different circumstances in my life but ah, my City, She has always been good to me.
There have been nights when I took to a rooftop of a building and stood high above the streets and the hustle of the cabs. I looked out at the scene. I looked at the windows of apartment buildings and noticed the lamps in bedrooms and living rooms.
There has always been something interesting to me about the way a television could flicker in a room — the bluish light illuminates against the walls to give the window view a certain glow. The City is filled with millions of windows like this. And the truth is, I love every single one of them.
There are early mornings, like today, for example, I was driving down the Westside Highway alongside the Hudson River before the sunrise. The moon was out. The buildings on the Manhattan side appeared to be resting for the moment. Across the river is New Jersey, who is a friend to me now, although, this wasn’t always the case. The Hudson River moves like a black sheet of glass; the lights from the stagnant ships and barges reflect across the river’s surface. This was my view this morning. Otherwise, the highway was empty because the rest of the world was sleeping.
Bullying: 101
It isn’t as much as what’s said or done, it’s what is taken away. It’s the aftermath. It’s the ideas and the thoughts and feelings that linger after the abuse. This is the real theft. This is what bullying does. It’s not just being picked on, shoved or kicked around. This is more than the character assassinations or the cancellation of someone’s character. Bullying is the humiliation that lingers like an unseen scar, which in some cases will last a lifetime.
Continue readingFrom Choices: Just A Hint Of Perspective
I admit it . . .
The times can get to a person. I admit the tension is incredible. Politics have overtaken the news and become the new religion. The reports and the stories about the riots and the violence are enough to break us all. Or at minimum, the stories are enough to break and distract me from my greater self.
I admit it. The social moods can be contagious. Only, I don’t think social distancing and face masks are the proper defense for things like this.
I don’t want to catch moods like this. No, I want to be better. I want to be strong. I want to be helpful and I wan to serve. I want to do more and be more because otherwise, I will only become less and less if I choose to give in.
The Written Addiction 