I go back to that thought which my Mother tried to encourage that life is life and there is only one chance to make this life what we want it to be.
Mom used to try and push me with an attempt to make me think differently but of course, I was younger then.
I know.
I was older in different ways too, of course, and now that I am younger in many ways, more than ever, I realize that perhaps I was too young to see things the way I do now.
Hence, this is why they say maturity comes with time
And the same goes with awareness too.
I go back to a song from my youth and to a dance with my Mother, years ago, and to a song from Paul Anka simply known as “times of your life.”
The idea behind the song is this –
we wake up “and time has slipped away.”
And suddenly the days we find and “the memories we left behind,” are all that we have and at the end, all we have is all we have.
Understand something –
The money in the bank or the cars, the homes, the clothes and all the social accolades and the levels of an achieved status mean nothing when we are at the hour of our death (amen.)
The good times and the bad ones are nothing more than the salt and pepper of our lives. I know this and so do you.
And of course, maybe there were too many times when life was too salty or too peppery and maybe the flavors at the moment were either spoiled or not worthy.
Still, this is the seasoning of our lives.
All things lead us up to now.
And if we are unhappy with no
then what do we do?
I understand that there is no way to recreate perfection.
I get it
There is no way to recreate the past or to create a similar outcome because life flows.
Life flows in the direction of the great stream, which, by the way, the great stream will eventually empty into the sea; hence, the abysmal nothingness of pure beauty and the afterlife or heaven or otherwise, maybe this life and all we have said and done are just a dream that lasts as long as the final seconds of energy that exists in our brain.
Who knows?
There is no going back. There is no backwards, only forwards.
Yes, I know.
Despite how we plead or we beg and we cry and we scream for the clock to pause or go back, the seconds tick, the minute hand moves, and the hours will calculate to days, and then weeks, and then months will become years.
I know that I was told to cherish this.
I was told to worship this.
Life, that is.
This only comes once.
Life does . . .
At the same time, I am not sure that I know if I understood what this meant,”
My Mother always warned me,
But I never listened
I never listened until . . .
until loss took place or until the personal bankruptcies left me alone to and sad enough to wonder, “what the hell went wrong?”
What are the times of my life?
What are the greatest memories?
I can say that I have seen great things.
I can say that I have flown in business class.
I have stayed in the finest hotels and ate the best kinds of food.
I can say that I lived rich and poor and I can say that I have a special value for the humble times.
And I mean the modest ones that didn’t cost a dime or a cent.
Everything is money.
Everything costs something.
Everything has a price and at the same time, no, I would not say that everything is negotiable.
I cannot say that everything is negotiable or everything has a price because every time I negotiated, I lost value and the moment was less worthy that what it could have been.
The one thing I know and I will know for the rest of my life is I understand waste.
I understand what happens the minute I forget the saying; “To thine own self be true.”
I understand what happens when we invest in lies or the dishonesties.
And I know what happens when we ignore the red flags and the warning signs.
I know what happens when we settle or when we compromise and accept a trade.
And, too . . .
I see how this hurt me and other people who deserved better from me.
For this; I am sorry.
Truly, I am.
However, I am done with my past even if my past is not done with me.
Even if my past or the wreckage of past decisions whisper like a reminder or if they carry signs to remind me of all my wrong turns; I am done with my past because my past has no opinion and nor does the past care if it ruins me or anyone else.
The past is not even real anymore.
No, this is only real to me or as real as my investment.
I can see how I have lost the greatest people in my life.
I can say that although there is no going back and while yes, there are hurt feelings and there are the worst ideas of betrayal on both sides; these are the times of my life.
If there is more to see then let me see them.
If there is more to say then let me say it.
Let me do the undone things that linger with contempt and regret.
Let me do them so that I can rid myself of the same contempt and regret.
Let me let myself go.
I am not closed off and nor have I shut the doors behind me.
No. Not at all.
And while the unfortunate fires from the bridges I’ve burned have gone out and they no longer light my way, still, I am not closed to the idea that you or I or us as a team can mend the unmendable.
I am not closed off to the ideas of mending edges and repairing the jagged pieces of our soul.
I am not closed off to the idea that there is, and always will be, a searchable and findable resolution to my broken heart.
And no, I will not move on in the sense that I relinquish my truths or abandon my true emotions.
I have not and will not surrender the feelings that I have.
I am not here seeking options, I am seeking truth. I am seeking the light and the way and the hope.
I am seeking the connection that is ongoing despite the flaws or the broken curves that make my beliefs imperfect.
And, too . . .
I am here to do as my Mother told me.
Worship this.
Love this
Live
Love
Laugh
Learn.
That is all.
I have no choice to carry the weight and yes, I understand the fact that life comes with predicaments and yes, life comes with ups and downs, highs and lows, fights and flaws.
I am aware of the imperfections that seem perfect to the eye at the time. And maybe perfection is misleading or perhaps our definition of perfection leads us to believe that life are supposed to be flawless.
But hey, I am flawed.
So are you, by the way.
I am all too imperfect.
Perhaps I am too damaged and unwanted to return to the burnt bridges behind me.
Maybe there is not “fixing them”
But whether I circle back or whether life brings me back in full circle is beyond me.
No, all I have now is this.
All I have is this minute here with you.
And even though you are only in my head, I swear, no one is more beautiful than you.
And no mirror can shake me or make me disbelieve in the rites of passage.
No one can sway me or tell me about the wrong ways and the dead-ends, which in my heart and soul; I know that someday, this will all lead me to where I am supposed to be.
Therefore, I dispose of the poor beliefs.
I dispose of my hate and my resentments.
I dispose of the waste and the misgivings and fights and arguments and the unresolved tensions that keep turning me around and pulling me backwards.
How do you do this?
How do you live forward when the background of your past seems to cast shadows on the new morning sun?
How do you realize that yes, these are meant to be the times of our life?
And so, now I have to make another change
Again . . .
I lived angry.
I lived vengeful and hateful
I lived with resentments
I lived with regrets
I was shortsighted and afraid
I was a coward.
Of course, I was.
I lived missing out on the times I took for granted.
I lived eating my heart out with envy.
I lived with greed and contempt and I lived with the disdainful ideas that I need to hate everyone who is happy because I was beneath them, in some ways, or that I was otherwise undeserving of the light, the way, and the truth.
I don’t want much
And if I can’t have what I want
Okay
Fine
So be it.
No one can stop me from wanting what I want
And no one can stop my heart
No one can stop me from learning how to worship each and every moment and no one can stop me from trying to make every memory the next best thing.
No one can do this
Except for me
And like I always tell you –
If it is up to me
Then it is up to me
And so is my love
Always
The Written Addiction 