I can remember a story that someone told me in which he said, “Man cannot serve two masters.”
His point was more than we can’t save our face and our ass at the same time. This was more than understanding where and who we challenge our energy towards. This was more about whether I choose to heal and to overcome or to recover and improve; or if I want to worry or go back and forth and fight and argue; or, if I want to lose myself to anxiety and nurture the problems over the execution of a greater solution; either way is fine. I can go in either direction. I can do whatever I choose. But I can’t go in both directions at the same time.
I can’t worry and I can’t fight against the energies that tend to weigh me down. I certainly cannot give in to the demons that hold me back and somehow keep me from the possibility to either improve or promote my best interests.
This is why we have carved out a section in our personal contract that stipulates our needs to funnel our time and energy into a more productive program.
This is why we have created this plan and the strategy to achieve it, which is to at no one, grow, move, or go, be and do whatever it takes to live a happy, productive life, by any means necessary.
There was a moment, just before The Old Man passed away, which I remember very clearly. I was reading a book that was at my Old Man’s bedside. The author quickly became one of my favorites. I’ve mentioned him before in other journals which, in this case, it’s only fair to mention him again.
Robert Fulghum wrote about reliving a perfect day, exactly as it was, and that if he could, he would relive it the exact same way without any changes.
He described a day so perfect and personally redeeming.
Fulghum said he wouldn’t change a thing about that day.
Not one thing . . .
I have often wondered if there were days in my life that were so absolutely perfect and beautiful. To be clear, I have moments which stand out to me.
I have memories. I have times with loved ones and times with people who no longer dwell on this Earth. I have nights that I remember that happened back when I was young.
Or, there are nights that I remember where I may have been older, oh, but ah –
I was still young enough to howl.
I write this to be placed in this section for a specific reason. We need these moments.
We need these memories. We need to howl and make a mess or a fuss or, at minimum, to cause an amazing raucous and sensational havoc which, in our minds, no times could ever match them.
We need these moments to create reasons to remain and make more of these memories. But also, we need these times to pick us up when we are otherwise feeling down or sad or alone.
Or wait –
Maybe I shouldn’t say we.
Maybe I should allow this to remain subjective. In which case, then so be it.
Let this be about me –
I need this. I need these memories.
I need these captions of redeeming moments to stand out in my head because at times when the world is either cold or unfriendly, I need to find my own sense of warmth.
I need to know that I can still howl, that I can still rage, that I can still yell and scream or sing as loud as possible.
I need to know that somewhere in this crazy place, there are memories of me, even if these are small ones; then fine. Let them be small. Or better yet, let them be mine because I need to know that not everything was such a loss. I need to know that even in spite of the harshness and in the face of some of my unfortunate truths, I have these unbelievably redeeming moments that meant so much to me.
I need to feel the fabric of these memories so that I can look back at them, victoriously, and say yes.
That was me.
Do I have a perfect day?
Do I have moments that were so beyond measure?
Sure. I have them.
We all do.
I let them tuck me in at night with hopes that somehow, those times can return and that they will come again soon.
Do I have bouts with myself? Do I have struggles?
Am I worried? Am I afraid?
Yes, to all of the above.
Do I feel love? Do I want to feel love?
Yes. Absolutely.
Do I have dreams? Do I have pictures in my head which I hope to see one day?
Yes. I have these things too.
It is all too easy to see the ugly and the unremorseful life around us.
It is all too easy to see the indecency or the impositions of people around us.
It is easy to note down the self-centered and the inconsiderate.
Also, it is easy to see the harshness and to feel the coldness around us.
It is easy –
Perhaps it’s not as easy to see the world in a different view. And maybe the suggestion which says, “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at will appear different,” is true to life; however, it is easy to lose sight of ourselves. It’s also easy to lose our position and more importantly, it’s all too easy to lose our sanity to the things that drive us crazy.
I get that.
There are times in my life that, in the momen,; everything seemed so perfect and untouchable.
Yet due to unforeseen circumstances and due to breakups and fights and arguments, there are scars that laid into the flesh of these memories; forever changing them and their perspective in a sense to which they lost their luster. But more, the memories lost their love.
Altered and different, all due to the circumstances around us.
They say there is a time for everything. They say that there is a purpose for everything.
And who’s they who say this?
I don’t know.
But in the vague randomness of this typical thought, there is a time for pain and there is a time for healing.
I believe in this.
There is a time for war and a time for peace.
I believe in this too.
There is a time for every second around the clock, which somehow embodies the accounts of our day.
Remember, this is life. Since nobody gets out of this alive, then we have to decide where, how and what we plan to do with our life.
Or, forever hold our peace. . .
I have no idea how much longer I’ll have to pull off my trick. Quite possibly, I might not make the stage to reveal this trick of mine and say, “Ta-da!”
Therefore, in this cosmic journey of twists and turns and throughout this trip, in whichever direction we head or how ever far this may take me, there has to be a course of redemption.
Otherwise, all the mind will ever know are the criminalizing features of damnation.
For the record, I do not say this in a religious sense nor am I reporting this to you as a man with clasped fingers, kneeled in humbled moments of prayer.
But more, I am offering this as a humble message.
There has to be something good out there.
There has to be something beautiful
There has to be something to hang on to, or to keep us going, to keep us wild and crazy so that we can keep ourselves sane, at least enough to enjoy the memories of how good it feels to dance in the rain or sing at a show with our most favorite band.
And I, as your humble narrator, I want you to hear my voice right now.
I want you to find this as comforting as it is intended to be.
I want you to draw up that personal contract and to sign right there, on the dotted line, stipulations and all.
Today might not be the greatest.
But then again, it’s only morning.
(At least it is here)
We have to create something to celebrate.
And who knows?
Maybe if we play this right, we might pull off a trick and make this day one of the greatest that we’ve ever known.
It could happen . . .
. . . but only if we let it because remember,
no one can serve two masters.
The Written Addiction 