Imagine the Action: A Statement of Purpose

My idea to write to you is something that comes from the heart. My aim is somewhat selfish too because I admit that this is my only voice. I admit that this is the only place where I can go and be welcomed without any struggles or doubt.
This is the place where I can be heard and not judged or worry about what comes next. Essentially, I come here to find peace; but more, I come here to make sense of the ideas that interrupt my thinking.
Then again, I suppose you already know this about me.
(Or at least I hope you do.)
Therefore, I suppose you already know that these journals of mine are necessary to me. This is more than my voice and more than a moment of sanity. This is my fix or my special dose that defends from the unpleasantness that goes on around us.

This is me, imagining the actions it would take to improve or to be better. This is me being honest and open and with hopes to reach you. This is me looking for a way to navigate my life and hope for a better future.
This is me. No cover-up. No decorations. No hiding behind a mask or using an image for protection. No, this is me, honestly and vulnerably.
I come here because this sort of thinking is not welcomed in most places. Or actually, I’m not sure if honest vulnerability is welcome anywhere. Most people look to protect themselves at all times and I can understand why. I can understand why people would think this is too much outpouring or too much for their consumption. But that’s them and this is us.

There are moments when I think about the things I’ve said or done and I cringe. I literally cringe with ideas of shame or discomfort. I cringe because I wish I could take these things back. But I can’t. There is no rewind and there is no reverse. There is no way to unsay or undo.
There is only a way to improve or advance — and we often fail to improve or forget to learn from our past lessons. We are often destined to repeat our trips because we fail to get the lessons.
I swear, it’s like we can see this coming. We can see what we are doing and to us, it’s like falling in slow-motion. We know what we’re doing. We know what’s about to happen and there’s nothing we can do about it. All we can do is brace for the fall and be ready for what comes next.

Come to think of it, I have memories from when I said things that were irreversible. I remember things that I have done that were undefendable and equally irreversible.
After all, I am human. I make mistakes. I say the wrong thing and I’ve certainly made the wrong choices. I’ve done the wrong things.
I have given in to conditioned responses and insecurities. I have settled and accepted trades that were far below my personal value.
I have responded out of shame, fear, blame, guilt, regret, and in the need to find accountability for my feelings, I have responded in ways that were a reflection of my internal sources.

But here, with you, I come to let this go. I come here because I need this place. I need you. I need to know that I have an outlet. I need to know that there is somewhere that I can go to and be myself without any apologies. 
I need this place because this is how I replace my thoughts with action. I come here because as I type and as I hear the keys punch, I can feel my redemption. I can feel me working towards finding an answer. Some people exercise. Some people build. Some take a pill and trip into a different atmosphere but me, I come here.

I began these journals more than a decade ago. Who’d have thought that I would still be here? Who’d have thought that I would hold this commitment? Who’d have believed that I could come this far, here, with you?

Partly because I want to evolve and partly because I want to feel better; I write this to you in part because I want to make sense of the ideas that spin in my head. I come here to explain myself because this is the one place where I do not feel alone, odd or misfitting.  I can be crazy. I can be sane. I can be angry. I can be loud or quiet and soft. I can be anything. I don’t have to fight off the judges or the critics nor do I allow them a voice in here.

This is more like food to nurture my mental appetite. I had to find a way.
Do you understand what I mean by this?

Life comes with different challenges. There are circumstances beyond our control. There are good people and bad people and wolves in sheep’s clothing. I’ve seen them up close and personal. But admittedly, I’ve worn the wolf suit in my day. I’ve worn the sheep’s clothing and I’ve been the black sheep too.
There are people who come into our life and help us to improve. Then again, there are people who come into our life and showcase where we need to improve.
The truth is we learn from everyone.

Take the empath —
Take the person who cares too much and receives too little. Think about the heart and how it beats or how it breaks and we wonder if there is anyone else in the world who thinks this way or feels this way.
There is so much coming at us at once and there is so much we want to say or do.

I come here because there was a time when hope was a dirty word for me. I was afraid to hope.  I was afraid to have faith. I was afraid to laugh or smile or to enjoy a moment because what happens when the moment is over?
What happens when hope is crushed or faith is smothered? What happens when all that remains is the foolish ideas that came from a dream which we hoped would come true?

How do you enjoy a moment of relief when the fear of pain is an underlying threat?
This is why I come here. I come here because this is my source of bravery and thus, I can feel; I can think; I can be and nothing from the outside can wreck what I have built. Even if they tried, I would destroy them with fiction and pen myself as the best hero this world has ever seen.

I come here to open myself up and be honest because otherwise, we live in a world where if you speak honestly, obviously something is wrong.
But I say, no. Nothing is wrong. In fact, something is right.
It’s not wrong to open up where it’s safe. It is not wrong to be honest about our thoughts or feelings. We need to do this. We need a place where this is not only safe but encouraged to be honest and truthful. Otherwise, what’s the point?

If I were given the chance to promote anything; I would promote the need for an outlet of escape — I would promote the need to find a place (like ours) where it is safe to let go and safe to be yourself, without judgment or apology.

There are people who ask me what I write about and why. There are people who ask about money and royalties. They ask if I make any money doing this. I just laugh or smile because questions like this only serve to show one thing is true – and that’s why they don’t get it.

I write about me and my truths; but more, I write about what I see. I write about my understanding and the lack thereof. I write because I know there are common thoughts and misunderstandings; there are misperceptions and the better cultivation of wisdom and insight. I write because this is my exercise to strengthen my mental and emotional fitness. Otherwise, I would be weak. Though I write about my weaknesses, I write about them because this only proves to make me stronger.
That’s why I write.

I see no reason to deny the world can be an uncomfortable place. We say things that we wish we never said. We do things that we wish we never did. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. We live in a crazy time.
And me, well, I’m doing the best that I can.

There are thoughts that come to us about our memories or our regrettable yesterdays and we think about them and wish we could disappear.
We wish we could vanish from our feelings or from the shame, or from the things we said or did.
There is no erase button. And that sucks.
There is no rewind or pause, fast-forward or stop. There is only life.

This is why I have been writing to you for so long. I’ve seen ups and downs and felt the pros and cons of my choices. 

When you love someone and I mean when you really love someone and you feel them, you can feel everything, which is not easy — even when they are not with you, you feel them. Know what I mean?
When you see them go through something; and I mean really go through something, not just a cold or a cough that won’t go away, but something life altering; something painful or hurtful, or something that makes them cry and when they cry, they look so beautiful because this proves that they are real to you — all you want to do is push a button and make it all go away. 

There’s a touch and a knowing look. Or wait no, there’s more.
There is a feeling we get. There is a sense of comfort because in spite of our crazy assumptions and regardless of our little quirks, faults and peculiarities, at least there’s a place that makes sense. There’s a home for us and even if this home is built for a small few or just one — even if this home is only in our head and in our hearts; at least we have this because otherwise, I’m not sure what I’d have, if anything at all.

I don’t know where you are right now. I don’t know if you are sitting or standing. I don’t know if you are smiling or nodding along or if this hits or misses the point. All I know is my search is designed to gather all that I can. I want to collect my lessons and learn as often as possible. I want to find my way. I want to define my freedom or, better yet, I want to find a place where I can build castles in the sand (so-to-speak).

This is my ammunition against the things that make life uncomfortable. This is my defense. You, me, the words that I type and a little blue “publish” button at the top of my computer screen are my tools to build a better life. No money, royalty, or settlement could outshine what this is worth to me.

Today is a new day. I have to see it like this. Otherwise, I might give in too deeply to my thoughts.
And speaking of thoughts, Alan Watts once said:
“A person who thinks all the time has nothing to think about except thoughts. So, he loses touch with reality and lives in the world of illusions.”

I come here to defy this. I come here to create a place where I can relieve myself of my thoughts or the specific “Chapter in the skull.”
I am neither my thoughts or my mistakes or any of my other misgivings. I am this, a completed entry and a defied statistic. I am here and although I am closer to the end than the beginning; there are times in which, I swear, I am more alive now than ever before.

Because of you . . .

One day . . .

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