I find myself on the verge of another morning. Yet I go back to old thoughts of mine and memories or moments of nostalgia. I suppose what I need to do most is understand my terms so that in order for me to accomplish my dreams, I have to understand the meaning behind my definition of strength.
I once wrote –
I think above all things –
Sometimes the strongest move is the most gentle move of all. That’s strength.
To know when to apply or when to withdraw or to lay back because all of this takes precision and control.
To control strength takes more effort than it does to use an all-out force.
This is called discipline. Discipline takes strength.
I had a friend who used to tell me about knowledge, wisdom and understanding.
He would tell me it’s great to know things. But what does it mean to know something without the wisdom behind the lessons we’ve been taught? And what is wisdom without the understanding of how to retain our daily lessons and utilize them going forward?
This way, we can grow and evolve or advance and achieve.
This was his supreme mathematics.
Lessons like this –
they teach me about mental strength and to have power means nothing without the knowledge, wisdom or the understanding of how to use this power.
For example:
To hold, to caress, to care and be so delicate that the roughest hand can lend the softest touch is another method that takes discipline. You have to be strong to have discipline.
I have had to learn to redefine myself. And here I am now. Going back to basics and looking to rebuild myself again. I’ve learned that I need to redefine my personal definitions about strength.
I’ve had to start over more times than I can count. Fall down, stand back up, take the pain, take the loss, accept the truth and then keep moving
That’s strength.
This is how I want to be.
Or, I can say this is who I am because I have fallen down and I have stood back up. I’ve endured and overcome pain. I’ve accepted the truth regardless of whether I like the truth or not – and somehow, I regained my dignity or composure. I’ve dusted myself off, far more than once.
This is incredible, especially when thinking about the circumstances of my temporary demise. But what does it mean to fall down hard and get back up without recognizing our victory to overcome?
We have to either invent or reinvent ourselves on a daily basis. And sometimes, we have to save our own life on a daily basis as well.
Either we create and build, or we sink and destroy.
This is us. Strong.
This is our daily routine:
To go
To be
To do
To stay
To achieve and to continue is our goal.
But how does this happen without the internal belief that this can be so?
We have to be strong enough to believe this is our right and that we have the ability to go, be or do anything we choose.
That’s strength
Believe it ~
I now find myself wondering about the fabric of my strength.
I’m wondering about the upcoming changes
I’m wondering about a morning without coffee.
I’m wondering about a life without an external love, which means that I would have to boost myself internally instead of looking externally.
I am afraid and yet, fear can build strength.
Fear can be an excellent motivator.
My choice on how I direct this motivation will also be the deciding factor of what comes next, how I attack, how I move, and what I choose to do with my motivation is and will always be a defining factor of how I use my strength.
Nothing can stop me – except for me.
If I want to go, be or do, then I can do either one or all three at the same time.
However, understand the weakness and the softness of emotion. It takes strength to be humble. It takes strength to be modest which is something that I was taught years ago on the farm, a place that changed my youth.
I was taught that humility is honesty. I was told that being humble means that you are simply being honest about yourself and that to be modest means to be yourself with the absence of pride.
I remember the day when I decided that I want to become a writer – or at least, I want to fulfill what I believe is “my version” of what it means to be a writer.
If this is to be me than this means that I would have to write both honestly and so humbly that I can remove my ego and write the details of what I see around me, both modestly and with the absence of pride.
I refer to another old thought of mine which is part of my old life yet this brings me to an understanding of terms and the words we use.
This teaches me that words have meaning and we should pay attention to our words more so that maybe we could hurt each other less.
I once penned this old thought not realizing how impactful this would be for me –
Just over the bridge that crosses over the Meadowbrook Parkway along a stretch of road, which was called Earle Ovington Boulevard, and back to around the time when the tall glass buildings took their spot on the boulevard between Hempstead Turnpike and Merrick Avenue, a special “happening” took place. Aside from the hospital, the tall glass buildings become the only large buildings in town. And back when the color of my memory is similarly viewed the same as the 1970’s television shows from my youth, I have a memory of me walking with The Old Man. We walked from our home towards the Nassau Coliseum at the beginning of hockey season.
This was my first hockey game.
The Old Man asked, “Ever been to a hockey game before, kid?”
I answered The Old Man, “No.”
“Me neither,” he said.
“Looks like this will be the first time for both of us.”
I can’t say how old I was at the time. I can’t say what I wore or if I remember if it was cold or warm. I am not sure what time it was but I know this walk took place just after sunset.
I don’t know if we stayed for the entire game or which team won or who even played.
All I knew is I was going to see a hockey game with my Father, The Old Man.
All I remember is what it was like to hear The Old Man say this was his first hockey game too – and then he told me that we shared this together.
Be very clear about something . . .
Children hear and remember things which follow them throughout their lifetime.
Be advised that although a minute might seem like a minute; and in the grand scheme of things, a minute is only a small piece of time, this particular minute is something that I never forgot.
(Hence, this is why the lists we create for ourselves and the items we choose to select and achieve are more incredible than we realize.)
Be clear on this because at any given time, a word you leave behind has the ability to bring redemption to someone’s heart.
It didn’t matter if I liked hockey or enjoyed the game. It was a night out with my Old Man. This was a Father and son moment that I held and never let go of.
I never had a son or a younger brother. I never saw myself as much of a mentor. I never thought of myself as anything other than me because I am who I am.
I never thought much about my interaction with other people. Instead, I mostly thought about how the world interacted with me.
The world is not always a kind place. And yes, we know this.
The words we use are not always kind as well.
And sure, we know this too.
The truth is a word is worth more than anything we could ever imagine.
A word has the ability to save us or bury us.
This can either build or destroy.
A word is certainly mightier than any form of weapon because a word has the power to cause mass destruction but, at the same time, if and when used properly, a simple word has the ability to heal the wounds of our hearts.
I believe this.
Consider the words “I love you” when said by the right person.
God, I tell you these words mean everything and the words “I’m proud of you” as well.
Especially to hear these words from someone who we love or admire or aspire to be like; or to hear this when the moment is intense and fate is in the hands of a final last minute like my Father’s final words to me – to hear the words, “I’m proud of you,” above all things, they have the ability to restore order to a broken heart of a man who lost his Father at a young age.
Trust me on this.
But what is a word? What value does it have?
I used to see a homeless man on 42nd Street kneeling outside of an empty building that was scheduled to be demolished.
He would recite poetry and scream his thoughts out loud to the passing pedestrians that never took notice of him.
But I noticed.
I noticed him every time I passed.
He would dissect a word and discuss what it meant. When the man ran out of words, he broke down the alphabet and then he turned his thoughts to numbers and what they signify in our lives.
He was unsightly to say the least. His odor was fierce and he was homeless. Yet, he was also brilliant. I remember him well.
The man was dark skinned with clumped hair, matted and dreaded. He was usually barefoot and wore oversized black clothes. He was unclean with a scruffy beard like round balls of black cotton on his face. He smelled awful and seemed drunk most of the time but still, when this man spoke his poems, I swear, he was better than any poet I have ever heard.
One day, it was clear to me that someone took most of the man’s things. His pen would not write and the paper he tried to write on was a crumpled old paper bag.
So –
I decided to buy him a few notepads and a few boxes of pens. I made my purchase and then walked over to where the man sat, seemingly repeating himself, weeping as if his best friend was taken away.
“Here,” I said and offered the bag.
In my entire life, I have never seen a facial expression as touched as I did this day.
Now, in fairness, I have seen children at Christmas time upon opening their gifts. I’ve seen brightened eyes and faces of children who were delighted to the point where their truest and childlike emotions bled pure. But even in their youthful wholesomeness, they failed in comparison to the look on the homeless poet’s face.
It was nothing else but a moment of humanity.
Nothing else at all.
The man looked at me and thanked me.
”You just gave me my life back,” he said.
Funny, I was thinking about how he gave me mine through this lesson in humility.
Just a word with a kind gesture and that was all it took to change a man’s day.
Do I believe as though just because of a kind word this man found his way out of the streets?
No.
Do I think that this was an ingredient to his deciding factor to straighten up and make his way into a shelter? Probably not.
Did this help him find a place with a good meal and a strategy towards housing?
Most likely, the answer is no.
They demolished the building shortly after.
The truth is the odds are against the man.
But of all the beautiful things I have ever seen in my life, to see what a semblance of humanity is capable of in a grown man’s eyes is truly incredible.
Words mean a lot.
I know they do –
I know this because I can say that when soft eyes gaze at me and the words, “I love you” come from the mouth of the most beautiful soul I have ever seen – this can change the face of my universe, one star at a time.
A time will come when all is gone and the only thing left behind will be the words we remember. Hopefully these words will find us at a time when we need them most.
Want to know some of the words I plan to recall when this time comes for me?
Well, I have a few of them . . .
“Ever been to a hockey game?” is at the top of the list along with “I love you, son” and “I’m proud of you kid.”
I’ll remember the words of a woman who said, “I love you, Ben.”
I’ll remember the smiles and the highlights of my life and the words which changed the face of my universe – one star at a time.
Words mean everything
Trust me on this.
So please, use them wisely
I understand that the things we say have more power than we realize.
So, since my aim is to create a new goal for myself and since my primary objective is to create a new and daily bucket list and to strike lines through the items I have achieved, then today, if at all possible – please, let me find the words to say to someone – to change the face of their universe . . .
One star at a time.
Okay?
The Written Addiction 