I suppose this is written as a means of survival.
But in fairness to the means, I realize that not everyone survives . . .
or wants to.

At best, I think that it is only fair for either of us to realize the following. There are times when there is nothing anyone can do.
Nothing can be done, except endure.
In which case, all we can do is keep going.
Keep moving. Keep trying.
Keep looking for the chance to switch or improve your position.

There was a night in my twenties that went long, or at least longer than usual which was not unusual to say the least. At the same time, this night was no different from any other weekend night.
I was young and wild and crazy. I was trying to find my way, which was blurry and unsure.
I was me, timid and trying not to be.

I assume I could have called this a moment of clarity. Or maybe a memory of a time when was my soul’s ability to foreshadow allowed me to realize that life is going to change.
Or at least I hoped.
Nothing lasts forever. Age happens. Life happens.
And the certainty of life is both inevitable and eventual.

Life is a trip.
It’s a ride. That’s for sure.

I have no idea what will come today. Other than the mail despite its contents, or other than the alarm that rings at the same time in the morning, and other than the schedule at work or the time of my morning train, —I have no idea what today brings. And even still, among the so-called things that I think I know, I understand that all things can and will be subject to change.
The world can fall from its perch at any given moment. The phone could ring, or not.

Any one thing can go in either direction.
I suppose.
Or for example, a smile can fade into a frown, or frowns can resolve themselves and turn the other way.
Anything can happen. Right?
Okay, then.

I am not sure if I am tested or it has been proven that I am fit for battle. I only know what I have seen. Then again, I know what I can’t see or what I hate to see.
I know there are sounds that the heart, mind, and soul are not fit to withstand. I know there are cries, like the screams of a child in pain, or the pleas that we hear from a child when all they want is the pain to go away.
We are not intended for the sights, like a child laying still or seemingly lifeless with their parents sitting outside of the emergency room, helpless as ever.

We are not built for this
But we see this all the time.

Do you want to know the answer?
Sometimes the answers are simple. I swear it is.
Sometimes the answers are free, and oftentimes, the answers are right in front of us.
As in, “right here,” and right in front of our eyes.

We have to look though. We have to open our eyes if we are going to see the highlights and understand life in true color.

But rest assured, the answers are out there.
Butterflies. Random patches of rainbows that appear like a patch in the sky, sitting just off to the right of the sun and beaming through a cloud.
This is like an eye of the soul who watches over us through a hole in the sky.

“What’s it gonna take?”
This is a great question.
What has to happen?
What do I need to do?
Or even better, “what do I need to stop doing?”

These are all great questions to ask when trying to figure out the next move. And the next move can be anything. This can be a plan of attack. This can be about a personal change. Even better, these can be great questions when we think about our own happiness.

I think it is only fair to say this before I start this entry. And, so . . .
Before I go forwards, I recognize that I go forward because I have to.

I have to recognize the reason why I get up and out of bed in the morning. And more, I have to say this before I start this entry because the fact is I am no better or different from anyone else.
I have a life to face and bouts to contend with.
I have bills to pay and the pile is thick and deep.
I am not so special.
I’m the same as anyone else.

I remember the first time when I stepped into the middle school cafeteria. Only, we called it junior high school back then. This was the first time that I realized the world was a bigger place. I understood the meaning that came with the saying big fish in a little pond.
Only, I was never a big fish and the pond I was in always seemed to grow larger, making me seem so much smaller, which is exactly how I felt.
Small. Tiny.
Or maybe even insignificant.

There was this great big world out there, and me, I thought that I was too weak or puny to compete. I was shorter than nearly all the other kids. I was way too thin. I was far too weak. I was awkward too and looked much younger than my classmates.

I suppose the start of anything can be the hardest part. And here we are at the beginning. Or wait, no.
Here I am, wondering what it’s going to take for me to get from here to there or what it will take to get me from start to finish.
This is a going to be a good journal for me,
at least I hope so.

Take the ideas of a personal project, for example.
Or think about the cost of a gym or a workout plan.
Think about the goal to be fit and in shape.
Close your eyes, if this helps.
Think about the best physical version of you. Now, think about what this looks like, and next comes question, “What’s it gonna take?”

I am here again. But I am not here against my will or would I call this a crossroads or an impasse. And no, this is not an accident either.
I think where I am is both accurate and justly deserved.
However, I would never say that I know what I’m doing or that I am an authority on anything in any way. In fact, I can only say that I have see what I have seen and that I know what I know.
At the same time, I have to understand that life is subjective, memory is often a liar, and that like billions of others who lied and died before me, I am often tricked by the deception of my perception.

I know this.
I know that not everything is as it seems.
I know that I have often misunderstood, misread, and misdiagnosed problems of the heart or troubles of the soul.