I have news for you. There is no “perfect.”
There’s only us and how we are, which is perfect for me because whether I am flawed or blemished, I am completely me. No ifs, ands or buts.
It would be dishonest if I were to say that I am not looking for a cure. It would be dishonest to say that I have nothing to hide or that I have no secrets or hang-ups.
No, I am me, which means I am human, which means I come with a past history, which means I have biases and worries. I have scars and marks. I have fears and concerns.
I also have the unseeable or invisible injuries which is no different from anyone else.
I have the wreckage of my past and at the same time, I have hope for my future.
I have new goals in mind. I have new plans to unfold and new items to check off my list.
It is only morning time here in my neck of the woods.
It is Sunday and the sky is starting to evolve from darkness to dawn. The trees are starting to change and so is the weather.
The warmth of summer is receding like the shores of an outgoing tide and soon the air will be cold and my breath will smoke when I leave my house and step outside in early in the morning.
But that’s okay. I know where to find my warmth.
My Havana dreams are unmistakable and perhaps distant; but ah, my dreams are still real nonetheless.
Paradise, I see . . .
White sand beaches.
Palm trees.
An offshore breeze and the tanned skin of a happy man, aligned with the stars and his fate
(Beautiful)
I have no questions about my understanding of “self.”
I know who I am. I’d like to think that I know who you are too – especially since I’ve known you for a long time. MY whole life, it seems.
I’d like to think of us as two people and one at the same time because after all, who else would be able to keep my secrets and still have me believe that I am loved?
Who else would I choose to sit by my side?
Who else could I tell my thoughts too?
Who else would I imagine while I write to you?
And as I do this, I can hear my voice, speaking each word that I type – I am speaking calmly as my fingers poke the keys and almost raspy, almost in my best James Dean approach, and almost cool, soothing and loving, each word I type is narrated in my head with a soft but deep tone – just so I know that you can hear me.
I have always wanted to be “cool.”
I’m sure we all want this, at least to some degree.
I have always wanted this in whatever fashion this would be. I have always wanted to be ”wanted” or to be “desirable” and to feel that sense of comfort, as if to be connected and as if no connection could ever break this stride or slow my momentum; as if no one could possibly deter me from this path which is what leads me here, to you, each and every morning.
I have been coming here for years now – and that’s a long time to hold a commitment.
However, I am sure that you know the depth of this and how valuable this has been to me.
Lifesaving, I say. Empowering, I tell you.
To be clear, this is my best defense.
I have been learning the details of my so-called craft which I call my art. As an artist, I have been working on the evolution of my voice.
I am searching for my path to find the comfort it takes to speak out loud and to allow myself to be heard regardless of whomever is around or if anyone listens (or cares).
I have been changing lanes to find my way to an easier route.
I’m working hard to avoid the collisions and the figurative congestions of emotional traffic jams that keep me or delay me from reaching my destination.
I have gone through different phases and unfolded in such a way that each day, the more that I explore, the more that I see – and, the more that I see, the more that I learn.
It’s a process. It’s not just this thing called life.
It’s not just experience; it’s the way we look at ourselves and come to an honest and constructive conclusion at the end of each day. We have to do this because how else can we start the next morning with a fresh clean slate?
I say this now and I’ll say this at least a thousand times more: life is not meant to be lived in the rearview mirror.
It is turning now, the world, I mean.
The speed of the earth on its axis has always been interesting to me. The world turns at roughly 1,000 miles per hour. Imagine that?
We are literally moving at 1,000 miles an hour. Which is great because, to me, this is why I say there is no such thing as stillness.
This is why I say that not all things stay and not all things change; but yes – we all evolve, somehow.
We mature. We grow. We circle back. And we come back to the beginning, somehow, as if to appear at an eye-opening arrival, as if to come to a momentary awareness and understanding that with all the miles that we’ve run and with all the running we’ve done – life has always been right here. Right in front of us – yet, we ran and we searched and we looked and we questioned.
And yet – we had everything we needed this entire time.
And that’s us.
I think it’s time to break away from the internal tortures and the harshest critic of all.
Besides, this is always internal.
I think it’s time to put the bat down so that we can stop beating ourselves up.
Understand?
Let’s face it, nothing is going to change what was until we learn to change what is.
Nothing is going to happen and no, our life is not going to shatter or break or fall apart simply because you and I decided to take hold of our dreams – and make them so.
Nothing will happen if we take a shot or if we miss and try again.
Hence, this is my item that I am addressing today.
Of all items to check off this list, I think this one is the most valuable –
To be rid of the inner demons and separate ourselves from the internal dialogue that does nothing else but lead us to question the beauty of life.
And yes. it is beautiful.
Life, I mean.
I think of a common statement that I have heard since my youth.
Don’t get your hopes up, kid!
I get that sometimes we have to be realistic. But why not have hopes? Why not allow ourselves to believe that hope can do wonderous things?
Instead of viewing the world in a sense of “Why would they pick me?” what would happen if we took the upper stance and found strength in the wherewithal of saying, “Why wouldn’t they choose me?”
Why not believe in the possibility that while yes, shit happens, good things happen too.
I can give a long list of problems and complaints and I can detail this for hours.
But how does this help me?
Does this help me at all?
No, not really.
All this does is keep me from getting my hopes up, which they are – up, I mean.
My hopes are up.
Absolutely they are because otherwise, I am spent.
Otherwise, I have allowed myself to submit into the murkiness of a sad and melancholic existence which is flat and mediocre. This sort of life, unfulfilling at best and even less than satisfying, this is life when sunken into the thickness of emotional quicksand – this is what takes place drowning with each breath and it’s like you’re dying alive in an outer-body way, just witnessing but not living – to which, there is no zest nor zeal. There’s no life nor enrichment. There’s only the concepts of doubt and the sad, grayish hue that comes when depression and the despair that robs us from the color of our beautiful life.
Again, this is why I say this is a great item to achieve – to rid ourselves of the rot or the cancerous underbelly of diseased or destructive thinking.
Imagine something –
Imagine life without fear?
Imagine our ability to achieve if there were no distractions like doubt?
Imagine how happy we would be without the threats of personalizing our disappointments or how clear our thinking would be if we could subtract the imaginary allegations. or if we can breathe without anxiety – and think about life without the accusations we imagine and if only we could rid ourselves from the constant stages of second-guessing and over-questioning – or imagine how free we would be if we could allow ourselves the grace of walking out the front door and not worrying about what’s behind us – or imagine if we were unafraid of what could happen; and lastly, imagine how free our mobility would be if we were absent from the worries of impending doom and the worst case scenarios that play out in our head.
Understand that there is no perfection.
I am not perfect. I am only me.
You are not perfect either.
No one is. But that’s okay.
No wait . . .
Even better, I think this is perfect because once we realize that perfection is not the answer and that progress is the solution, we can put down the arrows that shoot down the balloons of our dreams.
Imagine that –
Being free to get your hopes up and not personalizing our damned ideas that come if we don’t get our way. Instead – imagine if we could live and we learn and we could laugh and we could love without ever hearing someone say, “Okay . . . just don’t get your hopes up!”
I’m telling you – this is a great item to check off from our lists today.
MY hopes are up because I’ve seen what life is like when I’m hopeless.
Shit –
I’d rather live trying and miss the mark than be hopeless.
Understand?
The Written Addiction 