All For More (Or Less)

What does it mean to stand up and shout? Or better yet, what does it mean to scream out at the top of your lungs?
Could you imagine?

Imagine climbing up to the highest peak of a mountaintop. The sky is blue. The sun is bright. The air is cool and thin and everything is crisp.
Imagine the outfit you’d wear and how this would look to you.
Think about the last few steps of this climb and how you made it after all these years; finally, you made it to the top.

Imagine what this would look like to you.
Imagine there is no one around.
Now, scream. . .
What would you scream?
What would you say?

In fairness, I have done something like this, similarly, and at the same time, everything about this was different for me.
I screamed as loud as I could.
There was no one around.
And yes, this felt good.
Better yet, this felt amazing because a piece of me felt free.

Free
What a great word.

Freedom, —as in to act, to speak, or to go or be and do as one chooses. No limits. No excuses.
Nothing holding me (or you) back.
No fears and above all, no worries about the past because the past and the wardens or the guards are gone.
The past is gone.
And there is no reason to look back anymore.

What else does freedom mean?
To be free, as in, to be free from oppression, and to be free from being imprisoned or free from being enslaved.
Freedom, as in to be able to breathe and think and feel without worry and without the threat of an impending doom.
Who doesn’t want this for themselves?

I have offered the jury and the members of the court my position on this. There is no jail that can hold the soul. No bars or concrete or anything manmade can stop the soul from dreaming. Yet, many or most, if not all of us can say that we all share some kind of imprisonment.

The mind . . .
Where have we gone?
What have we done?
What does anything mean if we fail to understand the meaning behind anything?
And yes, I know.
I’ve gone crazy.

Can anyone say that they’ve never “lost it!”
Can anyone say that they’ve never fallen from grace?
Can anyone call themselves “sinless” or say that they are sin-free?

Or when we talk about the crimes of the heart or if we think about loss or pain and heartbreak, can anyone say that they’ve never fallen so low or felt so desperate that they wished they could disappear?
Can anyone say that no, they’ve never hurt another person, or said an unwind thing.
See?
We all have sins.
We’ve all broken a law.
In fact, no one could build a prison big enough if everyone was held accountable for their crimes.
Even the guards, the judges, and the prosecutors would have to serve time here. And that’s just the truth.
Yet, everyone is really good at pointing fingers and assigning blame.

I need to set this up for myself. I need to make my way because time does not reverse and neither does my age. My hourglass is one batch of sand less this morning.
I need to realize this.
Better yet, I need to do something about this.

I have these places which I have been telling you about. One of them is a beach from my childhood. The other is a beach from my adulthood.
The beach from my childhood is sacred to me.
And this will always be the case.
The other beach is sacred as well.
I have never walked here with anyone else.

No, I walked there, alone, thinking and looking out at the sea.
I walked beneath the hot sun in Fort Lauderdale. I saw ups and downs here. I felt good and bad things.
I said goodbye to my Mother here.
She was sick for a long time.
But not anymore.
At least, not that I suppose.
Mom is free now, or elsewhere.

Life is short and death is long.
I know this. And so do you.

The judge knows this as well and so do the prosecutors and the accusers, the critics, the bullies, and all of us here on project Earth.
We all know this.
Life is short.
Death is long.
The question is what are we going to do about this?

I walked along this beach in Fort Lauderdale, alone, and collected my thoughts. I could hear people laughing and playing or swimming in the ocean.
Everyone had “Someone” but I had no one.

I could see them too—people, together with their families and friends, or loved ones.
I faced different challenges on this beach. I faced the facts of bad divorce and parental alienation. I faced the loss of money. I faced the fact that I sold myself short.
I settled.
I wanted more.
But I never assumed that “more” was an option.
I wanted something else, but I never assumed that what I wanted could be mine.
Understand?

Fast forward to now.
No one cares. No one wants to hear a sob story.
No one wants to know that pain hurts. And no one wants to wonder if anyone has ever died from a broken heart.
And by the way, the answer to this is yes.
Yes. Absolutely yes.
People have literally died from a broken heart.
They;ve died from this both directly and indirectly.
But they’ve died nonetheless.

We die far more times than we think. We die a little each day, which is why I agree, —life is short, death is long, and beyond all doubts; time is moving fast.

Of course, I agree: It’s later than we think . . .

Members of the jury, Your Honor, and to the prosecution, the accusers, the bullies and all else who sit in this so-called courtroom and look to persecute me, —I offer this to you, both honestly and unfortunately because in the end, no one wants to face their facts or their wrongs.

It is far greater and braver to be truthful, which is this, which is the bravest thing I am about to do.
I have lived, walked, wandered, and I have died enough to say that I have earned my place at the table.
No one is fit to judge or persecute me.
Anyone can try, if they’d like
But in the end, most people fail their own tests and could not withstand their own accusations.

I have suffered and I have regained my composure.
I have lost enough, and I have stood after falling to recreate myself, brokenhearted, hurt, and all.
No one can kill me forever is what I used to say.
And while this is dark and the sound of these words are unpleasant, at least this is true.

No one can excuse themselves from right and wrong.
No one can excuse their lies.
No one can run so far or fast that they can get away from themselves.
Believe me. I know because I’ve tried.
We can try to make it nice. We can look to make it easier.
We can rationalize our behavior. We can lie to the world and we can try to lie to ourselves, but in the end, no one can hide from the truth.

I have been accused of all sins, including murder because there are different ways to murder someone, —and to kill someone’s soul is far worse than it is to kill their body because nothing is worse than living dead or dying alive.
I am familiar with this too.
Then again, who isn’t?

Some people are sentenced to live this way, dying alive, each and every day until their heart stops and their breath gives.

I refuse to allow this for myself.
And no.
No matter where I go and no matter how far I sink, despite my life or my circumstances; no one will ever take me away from me again.
No one has the right to have any authority over me; unless, of course, I give this to them.
And even still, should I offer myself to someone or should I pledge my heart and give my life and my will over to the care of someone “in love,” then I have not forfeited or surrendered.
No.
This only means that I have dared to live despite my flaws. This only means I gave someone my everything, and they were free to do whatever they choose with this.

Do you know what this means?
This means I dared to love, which is new to me.

Yes, daring to love wholeheartedly and truly is new to me.
To be vulnerable is new. To go without hiding truths is new.
To be open and honest and to bear my chest to the world, —or to dare everything and to climb up to the top of that mountain and scream her name is all I want to do right now.

I have spoken with people about living in prison. I have talked with people who were segregated or lived in 23-hour lockdowns. And we talked about their life and how they kept their sanity.

The truth is people steal, and people take. Not everyone is fair and not everyone pays back or reciprocates.

People might take your time. People might steal or take your money. Some might succeed and take away pieces of your heart and sometimes, we lose space, or we lose the place we live.
But in the end, we have to realize that we can never let anyone take your mind.
It’s okay to hurt.
It’s okay to love and lose.
It’s okay to think about the pain or to contemplate whether anyone has ever died from a broken heart.

This is unfortunate.

But still, it’s okay to not be okay.

Your mind though.
You can’t lose this.
Never let this go.

I remember sitting on a bench after hearing the barred doors roll shut. I remember the threats which were on the way. And I remember the smells from unclean men who were in the same place as me.

One of the windows across from the holding cell was tilted open. I was able to see the early morning sky.
And as bad as everything was, I felt hope.
I don’t know why.
But I felt hopeful.

Life is short.
Death is long.

Maybe it’s best we get this court case underway.
I have the rest of my life to look forward to, —no matter how short it is, I plan to own whatever’s left.

So help me God.