Please, before I go on, we have to keep this in perspective. I cannot say that this is for everyone. Nor is this intended to reach everyone. However, in the sense of life and how we see things, there are people out there who go through things alone. And, well –
I offer this entry as an honest report which is raw. I agree.
But at least this is honest
And at least this is real so . . .
Please allow me to proceed.
There was a small motel just off the main drag in South Florida where all the other hotels and high-priced guests would stay. I stayed in that small motel when Mom was sick. There was something about this place. There was something fitting about the smallness and even the cheapness about the room. Yet, there was something comforting about this for me. This was something almost spiritual too, as if to mean that I was somewhere that was safe. As if there was a beautiful sense of anonymous confidentiality awaiting my return when I’d get back to my motel room.
I was there for a purpose yet I was there on family business (of course) but I was also there to unravel, as if to let go of my tensions and grief.
I remember my last visit here.
I walked the beach at sunrise and again at sunset. I let my feet sink into the sand, as if to allow my footsteps to be cushioned by the softened membrane of Mother Earth’s palm, or like a child of Our Maker, I walked in a gentle form of silence and reverence, humbled by nature. I was assigned by the rite of passage to act as a son who moved in a full circle and stepped in for my Mother while approaching her twilight.
It is something that I have been thinking about. Mom, me, my family and how distant we are. It is something that I understand too because life happens. Sometimes things happen which prevent us from ever falling back into place. I don’t go to cemeteries because this is where dead people live. Instead, I go to the ocean and walk the beach at Pt. Lookout which is a place where my Father used to take me as a small boy – and that’s how I go to visit him. Perhaps a visit down to the beach, as in the one I used to walk in Fort Lauderdale, back when Mom was ill – maybe this is a great way to go and visit Mom.
I am okay with certain separations. Life is full of them.
At times, I understand and prefer some of my separations to the otherwise unsettled disputes or unresolved tensions that take place after family blowouts.
At some point, we have to understand our obligation to “self” and that as a form of self-care, it is often unfortunate but necessary to remove certain toxins from our life.
I understand this (at least from an intellectual standpoint).
It is sad too – to say goodbye, I mean.
But often, these sad decisions are not ours to make and at times, these decisions are either made for us by others.
And I get that too.
Come to think of it . . .
The term family is much bigger to me now than it used to be. Perhaps one could argue that my definition of family (and happiness) has changed because my life has changed.
My situation has changed.
I am living in a new place, which is small and humble and different.
I am not surrounded by people – at least not as much as I used to be.
I have learned though.
I have had the eye-opening experience which takes place after awareness comes.
And that’s fine too.
Not everyone is who they say they are.
Not everyone feels the way they tell you they do.
But –
I have no time for resentments or resentful thinking and after all, I am human so therefore, thoughts happen and resentments have a way of weaving through my best line of defense.
I am very much a real person.
I am honest however, and because I am honest and because this is written with an honest tone and with the intention to be genuine, I think it is helpful to establish a line of communication between us.
Still, I write this as a person who lives and breathes. I write this to you as someone who aches and yearns.
I have fallen down, figuratively speaking, of course.
I‘ve gotten back up. I have hurt and bled both literally and figuratively. I have made mistakes.
I have lost friends. I lost loved ones and yes, there are people I love more than the sun and the moon – and yes, I have lost them too.
I am seeking and searching and without abandon; my mission is clear to me.
My heart is true and my motives are pure.
I understand that my improvements are crucial to my objectives and so, my priorities had to change.
I am searching and seeking, looking and hoping, and at the same time, I have to live.
I have work to do. I have places to see and accomplishments to achieve.
I have goodbyes to say and introductions to make and yes, the opportunity to “let go” as they say is hard and painful but perhaps this is all I can do.
Acceptance is key –
It is what it is. Or, so they say.
Right?
That’s what people say all the time.
It is what it is..
“And it ain’t what it ain’t” is how I always responded to this.
Yesterday, out of nowhere, I said “It is what it is,” to someone about a work related topic.
All the while, I was thinking about my life and it’s current condition to which the person responded to me –
And it ain’t what it ain’t.
No one ever says this to me.
But at a moment of personal reflection, silly things happen.
And what I mean is –
It’s amazing how things, like the little signs we see, or connections to our memory come along and remind us of our heart, as if to say, “Don’t forget.”
Maybe this means “I hear ya, kid. But still . . .just don’t give up.”
I have not done that.
Give up, I mean.
I am taking the best stance that I can. I’m doing the only thing I know how to do which is this – to write, to get up and out of bed in the morning when the alarm rings. And like it or not, painful or not, I make my way to where I have to go – I get up and I get out of bed. I report to a job.
I try to find a moment of redemption throughout the day – especially during the tough ones.
I cannot make anyone happy or make anyone love me more or want me nor can I please the world.
So, I have to start with me, as if today were day one –
a new day alone.
I have to continue with this list and itemize each goal or idea that will help me to move one step closer to my best possible life.
I am seeking shelter from the storm, which I have –
shelter, I mean.
I am waiting for the rainbow after the rainfall.
I am working and living and breathing.
I’m making sure to cook a meal for myself at the end of each day.
And this is something that I am learning to take pride in.
I never made chicken in a cream sauce with black olives and mushrooms before.
But I did last night.
I’ll do things like this now. I’ll give myself new items to achieve to act as small or incremental goals to me, which will allow my motion to build and gain momentum.
I do this so hopefully, as I pull away from my past, I can find myself heading towards a much better, stronger and brighter future.
And plans . .
Sure, I have plans.
And sometimes, plans change.
All I know is life moves and so do we.
My idea with this journal is similar to the ideas of my journals before this one. As I see it, since I am a normal, regular or common everyday lunatic (just like the rest of the world) I suppose it would be helpful to write an honest appeal to what I see.
I think it is freeing to write what is in my heart and yes, I think this is helpful too.
In fact, I know this is helpful because in the craziness around us, no one speaks freely or openly about their pains or matters of the heart.
But I will.
We are often trained to keep our feelings “bottled-up.”
But why?
The answer is because no one wants to be seen as weak and no one wants to be (or feel) vulnerable.
And me?
Am I vulnerable?
I am now. That’s for sure.
I say that to each is their own route in life.
Sometimes it’s hard to say which is the way to go.
What should I do?
What should I say?
How do I get to where I want to be?
How do I keep from the daily blockages that prevent me from being at my best?
I have items on my list which I have been telling you about.
One by one, I am checking the boxes next to them, so I can strike a line through it and say that well . . . yeah, I did that.
It is not a shameful thing to own our personal inventory.
It is not shameful to be sad or hurt or to be honest about our thoughts.
It’s helpful.
No really. It is.
Lying to one’s self and suppressing one’s thoughts, feelings and emotions are unhelpful at best.
All this does is block the tunnels of our thoughts, to jam us up and build congestion on the pathways to better thinking.
So – this is me – removing the traffic jam in my head
To think better
To feel better
To perform better . . .
So, I can live better.
Understand?
This is my item for today.
The Written Addiction 