Yearly Archives: 2021

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The Search for Passion

The nerves alone were enough to cause an attack. I was waiting outside and sifting through my nerves to stay calm. What I was about to see and experience was something that was going to change my life. This was my first official assignment as a specialist, or whatever that meant.

In fairness, I have to admit I thought the word, “Specialist” was a little much. I thought the word was reaching for something or trying to make me out as someone other than myself. To qualify my feelings, I had to admit that I gave into the mental obstacles that had plagued me for most of my life. I struggled with the ideas that I was uneducated, that I was not a professional by any means, that I was educationally challenged and that my life’s experience alone was not enough to help as an interactive support. Hence, the anxiety. Hence, the insecurity and hence the fear that I was out of my league.

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To Build Instead of Destroy

There is a hilltop away from the world in a place from my past. I dream about this place sometimes. There is a tree on top of the hill. The tree is not tall per se. The tree is more wide than anything else with its limbs spreading out in such a way. I view this as a safe place. Life was different for me then. Summer mornings were a different type of quiet. The breeze that swept through the tall grass was calm and peaceful.

In winter, the grass turned the color of light tan. Snow covered the ground and the special tree gave up its leaves. The limbs were empty and gnarled like old fingers pointing in sideways directions. In spring color returned and whether the season was winter, spring, summer or fall, there was a distinct look to each season. I view this in my memory as a place of peace. I dream of this place. 

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Now, Smile for the Camera

It was the late comedian Mitch Hedberg who told a joke about a friend that showed him a picture and said, “Here’s a picture of me when I was younger.” Hedberg responded, “Every picture is a picture of you when you’re younger.”

I think this is brilliant. I think the truth is everything we did is something we did when we were younger. I say this because the world moves. We might not feel this happening. We can see it though. Either way, nothing ever stops. Time is the most awesome vehicle of all.

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Golf and Life (A Quick Lesson)

I was never much of a golfer. Mainly because I was never able to hit the ball straight. I never hit the ball very far or played very well. I played when I was much younger. This was during early mornings on the weekends when The Old Man would take me. The idea was to play a quick nine holes, which was never quick.

The game we played was called long-ball, short-ball. We played this because my golf swing was poor and my shots never landed very close to the green. On the other hand The Old Man played well. His shots were always closer to the green. So, in an effort to speed the game up and not jam up the people who played behind us, I would play the ball that was closest to the green. The Old Man would play the ball furthest from the hole. This allowed me to move quicker and gave The Old Man a chance to play the ball from the fairway.

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Ready To Fly

This is our life. See how we live? Do we live fast and die young or do we move slowly and take our time? Which one would you choose?
This is our life. We go and we do. We think and we live. These are the things that take up our day. We eat. We live some and talk some. We think. We walk and we run.
If we are lucky, we smile too. If we are lucky, we can interact and both touch and feel the different fibers that make up the fabric of our life.
If we are lucky, we can understand the riddles of beauty and the blessings of our destiny. If we are lucky, we can exercise our mind and expand our abilities to reach farther than our typical education. This is not to say that our education is inadequate by any means. This is not to judge whether we are smart or otherwise. No, not at all. However, if we are lucky, we will learn the real meaning of the word necessity.

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True Character

Not all is lost on the old days. Or maybe it would be better to say that not all of my old ways were bad. Instead, I have learned to merge my older patterns with the newer edition of life. At one point, yes, I lived differently. Perhaps some would call this growth. On the other hand, I just call this being me.
I understand when people say there is no honor amongst thieves. I’ve heard this before. I have also heard long winded lectures and hard-to-listen-to diatribes from different people in my life.
I don’t think I am alone with this. I think this is part of growing up. I think this is part of life because there is always someone coming around here, trying to say how to live, how to do things or how to be. They say this as if they are the perfect authority. But no. They’re not.

Everyone is playing a game with their suggestions. This of course is their projection of their beliefs and their opinions. And this is fine too. This is not always bad either. There is always a lesson somewhere. Some of the lessons are useful and some are painful but either way, we learn. Right?

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My City

There are things we see, which do not make sense all the time. I suppose we can call this life. I suppose we can chalk this up to experience. And life is filled with this; experience, I mean. This is what makes us the people we are. Where we come from and where we lived, how we speak, our accent, or our common terminologies, this is us.
And me, well, I am a New Yorker.
In fact, I am proud to be a New Yorker. I love my city. I’m grateful for all the experiences I’ve shared here. I’m grateful for the late nights and downtown scenarios, which were crazy and wild.
I was young once. I was hopeful and yet often tameless. Still though, the city accepted me as I was (even if I didn’t).
I recall my late night strolls. I remember walking by myself and wondering if I was anywhere near the places that some of my favorite poets lived. I wondered if I could ever be like them. Could I be inspired like them or wild like them? Could I inspire people the way they inspired me? Good or bad, crazy or not, somehow; I always wanted to paint a picture with words. 

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Are You Ready?

I go back to the lesson I was taught about the animals in the forest. I go back to the idea about the deer when hearing a sound and how the deer runs for safety.
Eventually, the deer finds safety and stops running. Eventually, the deer goes back to whatever it is that a deer will do. By the way, this is how the deer survives danger.
The difference between us is interesting. As the superior species, we too have our own survival instinct. However, the difference between us and the deer is we cling to our fear. We live in the past.
Animals go back to doing whatever it is they do. But us, not so much. Unlike the other animals in the animal kingdom, we hold the fear. We hold the anxieties. We tense up. We react or respond in the future with preemptive strikes to protect us or defend ourselves from the elements. We assume. We form biases and prejudices.
We think way too much. Meanwhile, the deer, the rabbit or the little bird that flew away because something dangerous came too close; they go on with the rest of their lives. But us, not so much. We live in the past. We live in our memories and the unresolved tensions or previous traumas and unwanted outcomes.

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A Call to Arms

It amazes me the way people think and react. I am amazed at the way people react to subjects they find uncomfortable. I suppose it would be easier to deny something than it is to admit it exists.
Instead, we hear things like not in my house. Or, not in my backyard. I suppose it would be easier to turn a blind eye or look the other way.
Over the years, I’ve listened to parents tell me how they know everything about their child. I’ve listened to this in emergency rooms too, —especially after being deployed to an overdose. In one case, the overdose was actually a suicide attempt. I listened to a mother deny this. She refused the information even after her son explained this. She denied that her son tried to kill himself and then argued that her son’s overdose was accidental. 
Untrue.

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I Am Me

I am me. I will always be this, the same as you will always be you. I was born. I grew. I lived and I learned. This is the case for us all however, I am me. 
I say this not as a challenge or to compare myself to anyone else. Instead, I say it this way to claim one undeniable and empowering fact. I am me. I say this because all too often, we come at ourselves from a place of judgement. I say this as a means of celebration, which unfortunately most people do not do this for themselves. So, therefore I say it again. I am me.

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