I suppose I came to a line in the sand. I suppose this was a line that I couldn’t cross. I had to hold onto something. I had to realize my worth; but more, I had to realize there is a difference between living and existing. The choice was mine.
Safe to say that I had to allow myself an honest assessment. I had to dig deep on this one. I had to look around and see where my life is balanced and on the other end, what throws me off.

There is a saying that goes: you can’t have a positive life with a negative mind. Let’s say that again. You can’t have a positive life with a negative mind. This makes sense. I’m sure this made sense to the author, Joyce Meyer. I’m sure this makes sense to everyone, except of course, for those who live with anxiety. This is when the thought machine races out of control but even in the depths of my most anxious times, I knew that I could never have a positive life with a negative mind. Then again, knowing this fact was like adding another item on the list.

I wonder where the time has gone. I wonder if this is what we expected the end of 2021 to look like. And who knows? Maybe the world can pull off a trick and figure out a way to improve. Maybe . . .
Or, maybe something like this will stand as a tale to tell in future stories when teachers teach future students about the great pandemic. Should this be true and this is a document that anyone reads in the future, then please allow me to explain my social view without favoring or leaning towards any agenda or position. But to be clear, I remember the shutdown perfectly.

Sure, I think it’s great that people donate. I think that charity comes from the heart. Of course it does. It’s great when people get out of their house at least once a year and head down to the local homeless shelter. They hand out presents on Christmas or serve food on Thanksgiving.
Sure . . .
I think it’s great. My challenge is not the charitable heart; but more, I become frustrated with virtue signaling. I can’t stand the hand in the air as if to say, “Look at me. Look at what I’m doing!” as if their work automatically gets them a seat for the resurrection.

To better our interaction between us and the rest of the world, it is important to understand our relation between us and the rest of the world. It is important to understand the way we think in connection with the way we feel; furthermore, it is important to understand that the way we feel impacts the way we live.
That’s the point of these journal entries, to simplify the way we think so that we can lose the complication between us. Simplify the truth which is we have to be mindful because sometimes, the mind can be a liar. Sometimes, the mind can be a little brat who screams in the store because it’s not getting attention, validation or even a toy.

The hardest thing to see are the parents. The hardest thing to do is deliver the news, which of course, we all know can be devastating. I think of them. I think of the parents and the way they were the day their child was born. I assume they had dreams for their child and the look of amazement in their eyes. I think of the typical hopes they must have had and the ideas they had as parents. I am sure there’s an entire list of imaginations and fantasies. Meanwhile, a newborn child is brought into the world swaddled in a blanket.

The house was empty. Everything was gone and moved out. All the rooms were vacant of furniture and nothing was left, not anything in the cupboards in the kitchen, not anything in the sink, not anything but the life of memories, which my family had left behind. I could see the outline of picture frames on the wall, which in some ways appeared like a postmortem sketch of the lives that used to live here.
I was the last one to leave my childhood home. The Old Man had been gone for a while. Mom was about to move to Florida. My brother Dave was about to be married and I was moving out too.

We have spent most of our lives focused on the things that we do not have. We lose ourselves in comparison to other people. It’s true. We are taught what success looks like. We are shown examples of what our life is supposed to be, which is then compartmentalized and boxed in an almost mass–produced fashion. 
I can think of a list of people who told me how to be, how to think, to act, and what to wear and how to style my hair. I can think of people who suggested that I rethink myself; that I reconsider my career choices because for whatever the reason might be, in their words, “There is no room for me in places like this.”

It’s true.
Everyone is there to celebrate. It’s true to say that people love fame. They love the bright lights and the red carpets. Everyone loves the high-life, the fashions and the idea of private jets or vacations in Monaco. You think of places like a stay at Hotel De Paris in Monte Carlo or a walk around the yachts in Monaco Harbor. You imagine yourself at check-in, approaching the desk and asking questions like, “Excuse me, but is my suite ready yet?”
It’s true. Everyone is around when the lights are bright and the drinks are free. Everybody’s there when the venue is “All you can eat” and somehow, you, yourself are seen as a conduit to a life beyond comparison. Let’s face it, anyone can buy themselves a sunset view.