Ever fish out at sea by yourself?
I was about 8 to 9 miles southeast of the Jones Inlet. The sea was mainly calm with a steady roll of slow-moving waves that swelled beneath the boat. It was quiet.
The air was clear but the sky was gray. Yet, there was no threat of rain. It was just quiet is all. There is no other way to explain it.
Every so often I get calls, late at night, and on the other end of the call is a desperate voice from a desperate person in the middle of a desperate time. They speak as if I can immediately recognize their voice. Sometimes it’s easy to tell. Other times, I have to listen for a while.
I never ask who it is. I just listen and let them talk until I figure this out on my own. This never takes long.
Sometimes the person is crying. Sometimes the person is talking in a low tone, afraid that someone might hear them and they’re paranoid about some exterior force with some ulterior motive.
Oftentimes, the person is incoherent or drunk or sick or on the run and trying to keep themselves from being locked up in a cage.
It seems the world has gone mad. The riots across the country have spread throughout the rest of the globe, which I get.
The violence of one led to the violence of others, and here I am in NYC, walking down Lexington as if the city is a ghost town of boarded up windows after a big shootout between good and evil.
There will always be adversity.
There will always be something controversial and there will always be someone at odds. We know this.
There is no escaping the fact that failure and falling down is part of life, or, as the saying goes, “Into each life, a little rain must fall.”
Sometimes though . . .
the rain goes on too long. Sometimes the clouds and the thickness of the storm can cause us to forget that although it might not be visible; the blue sky and the sun are still above us.
Ask anyone that has learned or fought or gave everything they’ve had, and they will tell you the same thing. Even winners lose.
There is no one in this world that is impervious to loss or pain. There are some however, that seem to rise above it. There are some that make what they do look easy because of their natural ability or talent.
There are some that can not study at all and pass a test. There are some that can sit at a piano and somehow, the music makes sense to them.
I see little children and I smile. I see them and think about all of their abilities and their possibilities.
I smile because I see them as a symbol of hope. They are hope for a life that has yet to come.
When I see them, I wish children could stay as they are, young and hopeful, perfect, and eager to touch, taste, and smell everything our world has to offer. This is them at their best, untouched self.
Each time I think things couldn’t be crazier, apparently, I blink and something crazier happens. Yet, I find myself not surprised. It is enough to cause me to shake my head. I am growing tired of the association of blame. I am tired of the direction of fault. I’m tired of the news about deaths and murders and I am tired of the political platforms, which use tragic events like tools to gain an edge.
Continue readingHere we are at the end of May. They say May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Is it?
I’m not exactly sure what this means during a month like this one. At a time when everyone is quarantined and all eyes are on the news, and with the regular tragedies in the mix, the craze behind politics, the list of both information and misinformation, plus all the arguing and bickering between the right and the left does not show me a sense of awareness towards anything.
I write about this because this is very real to me. I also write about this because although many people suffer or struggle in silence, and as they see it, no one understands and no one else gets it, but still, this is very real to them too.
Either way, whether right or not, I think this hits home for all too many people. I think that everyone has their own ideas and their own ways. And me, I have mine too. I had my own soundtrack in my mind that emulated my thoughts and feelings throughout my life.
The roads near my house are country-like and quiet. The sky is gray and overcast this morning with a slight drizzle that turns on and off from time to time. I began my walk at approximately 5:30 this morning.
I decided to take this walk without regarding the periodic rains, because in fairness, the weather would only be used as an excuse if I decided to stay in.
It is strange to think about the years I’ve spent in the working world. More than anything, it is crazy to think that I have been going to and from New York City for almost 30 years. In fairness, I don’t like the sound of this. I almost feel as though this somehow makes me an adult. And I cringe a little, just thinking about the idea.
30 years . . .
