Being Honest With Fiction

What do you believe?
This is an important question for me to ask.
What do you really believe?
And when it comes to beliefs, then I have to ask what are we afraid of?
And if we answer this honestly, then I have to ask if our beliefs impact our fears?

I ask this because I have always struggled with my so-called belief system.
What do I believe?
Do I believe in anything so fully and so wholeheartedly?
Or have I let my doubts hijack my belief system, just like the way a bully in the sixth grade hijacked my belief in the Tooth Fairy when my tooth fell out while I was in the second grade.

I believe that certain things are lifesaving.
I believe that there is no touch as soft as the touch from your Grandmother’s hand and how her skin was the warmest, most comforting thing.

I believe that when we are at our lowest, or when we are at our worst and when the personal pain is so sharp, debilitating, and degrading that nothing seems to help, life has a way of putting someone or something in front of us to help us through.
I do believe this.

I can say that while I never agreed much with the change or the final politics of the late, great chess player Bobby Fischer, I have to agree with the last words he spoke before he died.
“Nothing is as healing as the human touch.”
I believe this too.
I believe this was said by someone who was void and absent from the real feel of human touch.
And so, I can appreciate the need and the starvation for warmth and compassion.

I believe that nothing was ever as healing as Mom’s cinnamon toast when I was a small boy.
Her hot chocolate was better than penicillin too.
I believe that anyone can make a glass of iced tea and although we can all use the exact same ingredients and measure the same mixture; we can all stir it up and serve it but no iced tea will ever taste like Mom’s iced tea.
I don’t know why this is true.
But I believe it
So, therefore, this is true to me.

And maybe this is not a bad thing.
Maybe this is a perfect thing, which shows that we all have our own way of making things.
No one can ever duplicate or replicate Mom’s mashed potatoes and chicken cutlets.
no one. . .
And Mom always knew when I needed these things the most.
But hey, this is what Moms do.

I believe that there are things that may seem tiny at the time or inconsequential, and there are moments which can seem meaningless, and somehow, those tiny moments and little bits of memory come back to remind us that we saw, touched, tasted, and we felt things that no one else will ever have the ability to experience.

I believe that love is far greater and far more important and far more braver of an emotion than we realize.
Love comes with no guarantees.
love is equipped with vulnerabilities that can be endless and therefore, I say real love and rtue love are far more valuable to me now
(now that I know what love really means, that is)

I believe in the light and the heat and the wealth of the sun.
I believe the rain is necessary.
I believe in the calmness of storms and how the gray clouds and the quiet hush from the winds that shake the trees are like special lullabies; and I believe these things are sent by The Almighty Mother of All, Mother Earth.
And I’m not so sure that I believe in The Heavenly Mother, or the The Great Almighty.
But at the same time, I like the idea that something so great and so loving is “up there” and that whether this is spiritual or childish; somehow, something greater than ourselves and a greater good is always loving us.
Something loving and kind is always watching, and always protecting our best interests at heart.
I like this belief, even if it’s silly or untrue.

At the same time, I believe there is no theft worse than the theft of a childhood, which is something that has me question my faith in God.
This is why I struggle with my belief in God because if there is a God and God is always good and always comforting, then how do children die?
Why do children suffer?
What happens to the little angels who leave behind such an impact on us and why are we blessed with the creation of life, only to see young life end so quickly?
A bud on Earth to blossom in Heaven
Like Jake . . .

At the same time, I believe in the healing power of laughter.
I believe in the general ability to be healed by the endless laugh of a child. And I love this.
I love how kids laugh at simple things, like the spray from a lawn sprinkler and the cheer you’ll hear when kids run underneath during a hot summer’s day.
I did this when I was small too.
I wonder how I laughed and screamed.

I believe in the touch and the chemistry and the love from one special person.
I believe in soul mates.
I believe that yes, life happens and everything happens for a reason and even more, there is a reason why we pause or we fail or we hesitate and we miss out.
I think we experience tragic things and catastrophes all the time.
I believe there are reasons why we balked or stalled.
Or even when life seemed perfect; I believe that the subtle imperfections were loud enough to tell us that something is wrong. Only, we were too afraid to listem.
So, we accepted the trade and took the settlement with hopes we’d see something on the back-end of the deal.

I believe in the power of stuffed animals for kids.
I had Tuffy. He was my very best friend.
I believe in the times and memories and emotions that come with childhood recollections, say, like the time I went fishing with my Father in Wantagh Park.
I can see him now, the way he was then
that way
much older and gray . . .
but not so old that he was so weak, like when he died
(and passed away)

I believe in the need for redemption.
I believe in the need for understanding and I believe in the need to find accountability when life goes wrong.
At the same time, I believe that no answers are good answers when heartache comes to town.
The question “why?” is timeless and ongoing; and therefore, I believe that the living are always going to question “why?” until the flesh becomes spirit and the spirit becomes free.
So, until then, we ask “Why?” far more often than we need to.

I believe the the warning signs of self-destruction and the subconscious rebellions that have no voice; hence, I believe that when we cannot communicate our thoughts and feelings through words, then we communicate through behaviors and desperate actions.

I believe this with all of my heart.

I believe a man can die a thousand times before he understands what it means to live.
I believe that some people never dare to live, love, laugh or learn and because of this; I believe people like this never live their life at all.
They only exist.
I believe this to my core.
I have lived that way too.
Or better, I have existed more than I have lived and to get better and move forward; I believe if none of this changes then I will only exist for the rest of my life.
I will only exist and thus; I will never experience what it means to live my life to the fullest.
If I fail to take the risks, I will never see my dreams come to fruition and I will never meet my best possible example of what it means to be alive.

I believe in the destruction of isolation.
I believe in the degradation of despair.
I believe that people can be their own prisoner and never dare to be the warden who lets their spirit go free.

I believe in simple things too, like the sound of the ice cream truck and the inner child who loves to hear the jingling music, which calls me to remember the feeling of being a little kid and eating my very first snow cone.

I believe in the strength of our inner voice and the voices of those who never seem to leave our hearts.
This is huge with me.
I believe this can be a blessing and a curse.
I say a blessing because these are the voices that comfort us.
I call this a curse because oftentimes, these are the voices of the only people who can ease our pain, and still, they are gone and never coming back.
And to me, no curse is worse than this one.

I do believe in love.
I do believe in the sensational expression of what it means to be touched by your lover and have their scent on you.
This is the most amazing sensation of all.
I believe in the velvety feel of such a sweet and perfect entry, which is the physical and emotional experience that takes place when two bodies become one.
Some call this making love.
Some call this paradise.
I call this everything I could ever want
And more . . .

I believe that on the day of my exit, I will have to answer for the things I have done.
I believe that I have no proof, nor am I sure that there is a Heaven above and nor do I know if my soul is correct or deserving of such a place.

I believe that my desire to change is not in fear that I will be rejected and sent to the gates of Hell.
No.
I’m not looking for ultimate redemption.
I’m just a man looking to get out of the hells, which have kept me stuck and enslaved me to the wrong, habitual thinking.

I’m not looking to enter Heaven.
I’m just looking to stop the Hell I find, which is here on Earth.

I believe this is all I can do for now.
And who knows, maybe one day, I’ll find out more regarding the inestimable version of paradise.
Maybe I will learn about the Angels of Mercy.
Or maybe I will be reunited with those who passed away before me.
Maybe I’ll hear The Old Man say, “Welcome home,”
and Mom will be there.
Robbie.
Uncle Alan.
Aunt Sondra.
Grandma.
Stanley
Maybe my friend Rob will come by and tell me he was watching over me because he knew I couldn’t watch over myself.

Or maybe if nothing at all, at least the blackness of “nothing” will shower over me like the dirt that covers the grave.
But me?
I won’t go to a grave.
I won’t be buried, dead or alive.
I will be cremated and my ashes are to be sent out to sea from the rocks at beach at Point Lookout.
Jones Inlet is where i’ll go and the tides will take me away
peacefully

Besides, cemeteries are where dead people live.
And the beach is where I keep them alive.

Or, at least –
So I believe.

If it us to me, you and I will never die
but we both know none of this is up to me.
So, instead,
I’ll just leave this here, in trust, with you
from now until the hour of my death

Amen