Don’t Quit –

I know that we’ve all grown. And hell, it’s been years since we’ve been young or on the prowl. Though we are not so young anymore, there is still a piece of us who has yet to grow. There is a part of our spirit which has yet to fully transition into the person we’re supposed to be. It’s never over – until it’s over.
And me?
Well, this is me now. I am often at an impasse of sorts, still working and still hoping like I did when I was young. I’m still maneuvering and looking to find my position beneath the sun. I am still youthful yet there is a part of me who is begging to get out. There’s a piece of me that wants to jump from this cocoon or so it seems. Then I can be free and clear to walk and think or to enjoy the rest of the world without a blemish or mark; as in stigma, or as in the trained assumptions and the biases that we so freely distribute to each other –

There is a piece of me who wants to go back to when it was safe to believe that the moon was made out of green cheese or that maybe favorite fictions could be real.
There is a piece of me who is still young and still hopeful, like a kid with his first trick, just looking to pull it off and say “ta-da!”

I know they say that age is just a number and perhaps it is because in some ways. I am younger now than ever before and in other ways, I was too old when I was still so young. I was worrying. I was wondering. I was looking for an answer and losing to my surface level assumptions about life or the appearance thereof.
And life –
Is this real?
Is this thing on?

Perhaps the true death of a person occurs at the deaths of their wonder – for example, when a kid puts together a puzzle, it comes to life.
When a kid gathers his things and set off a rocket to hit the sky, it takes off and the ideas of “more” is overwhelming.
This is about us and the fantastic fantasies of what it would feel like to sit in the seat of a real, live rocket ship. Your body is shaking in a spacesuit because the engines are rumbling at the end of the count 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – TAKEOFF, the thrill of rocket blasting off into outer space, breaking the speed of sound, and just like that – you’re in space. This is what it means to wonder. This is what it felt like for us to dream or dare and believe without the need for facts, evidence or proof that dreams can, will or do come true. To be clear, what is life without this?

I think it is the ability to wonder, which is necessary to achieve something. I think it is the necessity of the dreamer to have an idea or to see a vision. I think it is us when we grow older and look back at, say, the first time we tried to build something on our own. I think it is the visualizations of our youth which allowed us to dream – and I am thankful for this. I am thankful for those who reject the idea of age or what it means to “get old.”
I am thankful for the youthfulness of those who refuse to grow old. I am thankful for those who refuse the common standards.
I am truly grateful for them, my mentors, my idols and my fellow dreamers.
I can say the same to those who reject the common inventions or for those who evade the typical flow of our social networks.
I applaud you. No, wait.
I salute you.
No, wait.
I both envy and admire you.

I admire what it takes to get up and get going each day.
I envy those who have and because they have, I envy them out of pride and while realizing that this is on me – I recognize that my pride is the “wanting” virus in my ego.
But rightly so, my admiration is the truth of the matter.
I say this is true because by admiration, I can understand the entire model of someone’ s success.
By admiration, I can recognize the secrets of endurance.
I can notice the truth behind your “stick-to-it-iveness”  to which I mean – I can admire your determination.
I can see your persistence and your consistency, regardless of difficulties or conditions or embarrassing situations because either in spite of them or without regard for them, I admire those who continue and persevere. 
No matter what and by any means necessary – I salute you

As for the question, “Why do I keep writing to you?”

I do this because I have come this far, which is too far to turn back now. 
Sometimes, I do this because I don’t know what else to do.

Why do I keep knocking after doors are slammed in my face?
Or why do I keep coming back in spite of slander or in spite of character assassinations; or why do I keep showing up, even though the outcomes can or may be doubtful?
The answer is simple.
A long time ago, someone told me not to quit before the miracle happens.
I owe this person my life – so, I honor him by doing what he said.

This was a great man. Although, in fairness, I didn’t find him so great at the time.
I was only a few months in recovery after a major downfall which threw me into an emotional tailspin. I was angry. I was hateful yet all of this was really turned inwards. I mean, sure, there were valid external sources that were enough to leave me sad or hurt and upset. It was true that there were reasons, both justifiably and understandably so, which, in my case, this is what could have been enough to quit or say “FUCK IT!”

This man told me, “Don’t quit before the miracle happens.”
I hated him for this. I hated him both vengefully and perfectly.
I hated him for his smile and his happy-go-lucky attitude. Besides, what the hell did he know about me?
What did he know about my pain or my internal scars?
What did he know about the residuals from an ultimate attempt to settle my temporary debts through the hostility of a permanent solution?

I asked him, “When the hell is this miracle going to happen?”
His face changed from happy to humble.
How long are you clean, he asked.
“I got about 90 days back.”
He looked at me the way a loving father would support his own son.
And you don’t think that’s a miracle?
Most people don’t bother coming back, he said.
But you . . . you came back.

I’m sorry if this hurts you son, but if you ask me . . .
You are the miracle.

In life, I cannot say that either of us are aware of our miraculous selves nor do we realize that somewhere out there there’s a person looking at us in true admiration, just wishing that they could take a step away from themselves and go “at it” like we do.

We are all inspirational in one way or another.
All of us are.
My way is to inspire is the choice to continue – so, this is me.
This is why I show up every day.
Because I can’t quit . . . not before the miracle happens.