Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

Good morning.

I exhale my sleepy thoughts and wake early.
As usual.
I have been told that if I want something, then I have to put it out there.
Out there.

I’ve been out there for too long and yet, I was told that if I want something, then I have to claim it.
I have to own it, whatever it may be.
It is morning, quiet as ever.

The sky is about to change from dark to light. The colors of dawn are beginning to make their appearance at the horizon.
Beautiful shades of soft pastel colors wear around the horizon in my view.
I am elsewhere for now or at least, for today.
I can see the world from a different perspective here.
I am on the beach in Delaware, a state that I never knew much about and yet, like anywhere, beauty lives here too.

Then again, beauty lives anywhere. Yes. Of course.
I can see that beauty is everywhere around me.
This has always been true.
There are beautiful things at any turn and yes, this is everywhere around me,
This is everywhere around you, us, and now that I have lost so much; I can see the world we live in is often blinded by the simple, most complicated things. I have been blinded by things too, which are things that tend to distract our vision from the truest or simplest, most beautiful things.

Dearest God,
I was blind
But now . . .
I can see!

Life. . .
or C’est la vie, in French.
This is life, or such is life, which is always changing/
Always . . .
Everything is always transforming.

Nothing is ever the same. At least, not really.
Nothing is as it was because despite us or the way we are and despite the stillness we assume, the world is still turning at a tremendous speed. We are all spinning around in an infinite universe fast enough to create gravity and yet, my heart rises.
And this is not bad nor evil.
This is only so . . .

My dreams, my life, and my misperceptions of the most wild or special, or the most precious and the most important and the most beautiful things were lost to an inaccurate translation.
And thus, I lost.
I lost everything due to a hysterical blindness and fear that no matter how much I have, I would never be enough.

I did not lose because I did not have the ability to compete.
I did not lose because I was incapable of winning or succeeding and achieving.
No, I lost because I lost sight of the most important things.
I lost because I failed to see the obvious.
I failed to notice things like how the sky changes at sunrise or the value of, say, someone who chooses to be in my life because they love me as I am.

I was told that if I want something, then I have to pray for it.
I was told to be careful what I ask for because I might get it.
And then what?

I admit that nothing was ever enough.
But why?

I was told that I have to pray about this or to “pray on this.”
I was told that I need to give this, “up to God,” because I was told that “God could and would, if He were sought.”
I sought God too but for selfish reasons.
God save me.
God hide me.
God, please don’t let them see my scars or my rashes or my skin.
Please God.
Don’t let anyone know that I am weak or ugly or pail and weak.
Please.

I had the world more than once. I had everything I ever asked for and lost every crumb because nothing was ever enough.
I lost more money than I thought I would ever make.

I believed in the wrong narrative and so, I backed the wrong ponies to win the race, so-to-speak.
I always believed that I wanted more because I needed more.
More . . .
As in more money.
More things.
More achievements.
I needed more.
I needed the right house.
I needed the right cars.
I needed the things that I always lacked, and yet, I never saw that what I lacked was more internal like a leaking tub, which can never be filled, no matter how much we pour into it.

No.
I need less.
And yes
less is more.

I started this journal and told you and I am waiting for the wind to pick up.
And I am too.
I am waiting for my sails to fill so that I can move, rather than be stuck, and thus, —I find myself at the crossroads between impasse and indecision.
I am stuck between fears of the unknown and fears that my past will never let me go or become “ME” again.
I felt alive once.
I felt so alive
But I lost that too
I find myself looking at my figurative mirrors to note down my emotional reflection and yes, there it is.
I see it.
Flaws, scars, imperfections and all.

I just wish I was beautiful
But anyone who thought I was beautiful was drowned by my need for more because nothing about me was ever enough.
I was that kid
I was that kid who no one liked
Everyone hated
Or so I believed

C’est la vie.
This is life
Such is life.
And yes, this is life when we miss the openings of a brand new window.
and so . . . we turn a blind eye to the simplest, purest, and most beautiful things.
My greed and my lust and my need for more never allowed me to realize that I had everything, even when I had nothing.
Ah, but the word nothing is filling and empty.
The word nothing is consuming, like a cancer that weighs us down and withers our spirit to skin and bones.
The word nothing is the worst weed of all because it starves the roots of our dreams and kills the fruits from our flowers, which never had the chance to bloom because they were consumed by nothing,

I’ve had the world more than once and I lost every bit of it because I lost sight of the meaning of what it means to “have” something.
To have something.
Ah . . .
Something.

I was a small, small, pathetic boy.
Or so I believed.
I had skin problems and fear problems and weight problems.
I was weak and frail
Then I was older.
Then I lacked in other regards
I never knew hot io love and I never had the balls or the courage to dance a real slow dance and love with all my heart.

I saw no value in me or anything I had.
I saw myself as worthless so, to have more, I did more but getting more was never enough.

I was never “that guy,” who was picked first when choosing teams.
I was never good at much.
Or so I believed.

Sometimes . . .
People tell me that no.
I’m not ugly.
They tell me that I am a nice guy/
I asl them not to say thi
No one knows what my ugliness is
No one knows because no one sees what I see.
No one sees the faces I’ve seen after I hurt them
or mutilated them
all because I was reacting and responding to a cancer called “nothingness”

I never had the right style or the right look or the right way about me.
And so, I had to learn.
I sought out to find a new meaning and a new purpose; one that made me someone rather than feeling empty and believing that I was no one.

I needed more because I had so much less.
I was never overly rich as a child or desperately poor.
I was always perfectly mediocre.
I was in the middle . . .
never great or so good or bad or noticeable by any means.

I had love around me. I had a family. I had a nice house.
I had a roof over my head.
I had my own room.
And yet, whatever I had was always lacking or not enough or better yet; I always seemed to lose to other people when I played that competition in my head.
No one wins these games.

I worked hard.
I scammed and I connived and I slipped and I slithered.
I lied and I tried and I compensated and at times, I gained momentum and gained a better standing.

But again, nothing was ever enough. . .
The threat that comes with the belief of having nothing or being no one or being that unwanted, unnoticed, unmentioned and unfavored was such a painful threat to me.
This killed me
All the time

The fear of being that kid with the wrong shoes was real to me. The threat of showing up and pouring my heart out to someone and not being good enough because I was too thin, too fat, too poor, or too stupid was very real to me.

So, I backed the wrong pony.
I believed in the wrong people.
I lost myself in the sways of success and popularity.
I was blinded by flashy times and expensive things, when in fact, yes.
Money does not buy happiness and neither does success.
I ad far more when I had much, much less.

I have met countless miserable millionaires and too, I have met miserable billionaires as well.
They were lacking too because they had a leaking heart that could never be filled.
My heart leaked from real damages.
I was betrayed.
I was hurt
abused . . .
lied to . . .
and beaten worse than I can tell you.

People believed in me
But I never believed in myself.
People took a chance on me.
They bet on me.
They invested in me.
But I never believed that I could play the game straight
and win . . .
So, I lost.

I am sorry for this.
I am sorry for their loss.
I am sorry for my loss.
I lost more than I ever believed I would have and still, whatever I had was never enough.
And at the same time; I’ve had enough of this

It took me losing everything to learn this
I understand the ghosts of my past and their wreckage and the fears that my skeletons will escape the closet.
I really do.
I understand my weakness is so obvious and somehow, I try and I work hard to be gruff or show an external warning that will punish anyone who tries to expose me.
I cannot kill or destroy the flesh of my past because my past is gone and so is all that I had.
Gone . . .
down to the last crumb.

I used to think I needed the right car and the right house and the right address and the right bank account to be happy.
But more, who would want me if I did not have this?
Who would want me if I were poor or working a humble job?

I stood in front of one of the largest financial companies in the world, and they loved me.
I built a business.
And it was never enough.
I had a big house.
I had a big life.
And I blew it all because I had the wrong dream and I believed in the wrong things.
And for the moment, I will disregard the therapeutic gods who say there is no right or wrong, or that we should say there is just good, better, and best.
Forget that

I had it all and nothing was ever enough.
So, I lost everything and went back to having nothing, which caused me to realize one important thing:

I had more when I had less and when I had people who loved me or believed in me, I lost them all because I lost my view.
My vision was confused by a drive to keep me from being empty and ugly, —which was poor and absent, and sad
I was petrified to have those feelings that I had when I was so young and swore that I was never enough.

I prayed about this.
I asked God because I was told that God could and would if he were sought.
I was told that if I want something, then I have to put it out there.
I have to claim it. . .

I was told to put it out into the Universe and let it all happen.

Good morning, Universe,
I am leaving this here with you.
I never want to feel that worthless feeling again, and so, in fear of being worthless, I lost sight of my own value.

Forgive me for wasting the gifts you’ve given me.
Forgive me for my trespasses as I learn to forgive those who trespassed against me.
And I know this is a prayer for “someone else,” but hey, I think this needs to go to you as well.

Dear Universe.
I used to believe that I needed money.
I swore I needed to have the right car.
I believed in status. I believed in greed and too, I believed in these things because I never believed in me.

So . . .

If I may, please let me have the dream.
Let me have the life.
I do not need much. I do not need the job or the title or the big house or the right car.
I could deliver pizzas and be fine
So long as I was happy

I don’t need wealthy clothes or the pricy jewelry or the five-star hotels or the five-star restaurants.
I wasted too many years and lost too many people, places, and things to an unfortunate belief system.

Less is more but I never believed I was enough because in my best estimation, I swore that I was always less.

Let me be me this time
let me see that this
is enough!

Let me be humble
Let me have love.
Let me enjoy what I have.
Help me
Please.

I am begging you with all I have because I could be the richest man in the world right now and still; I would have nothing if I did not have happiness.
And her . . .
her too
which essentially; this is you
We both know that

Blessed Father,
Please do not see this as a prayer to someone else or to an idol or a false god before you.
No.
I’m just doing what I was told
I am putting this out into the universe.
I am claiming my dream
because in all fairness—I don’t need much.
I only thought I did.

Please . . .
Let me try again.
I swear, I won’t waste your gifts.

Not this time

I love you with all of my heart, my love
And yes
I always will
This will never stop and from now on
this is the only “never” that I choose to believe in