I knew a man that lived in the town nearby. He was a friend. Safe to say I knew him well enough to understand the more personal aspects of his life. It is also safe to say that I knew his personal truths. He was a broker. Or more accurately, he was a market-maker. He was a stock broker and earned a decent amount of money.
Years passed after leaving the first firm; however, just before the statute of limitations ran out, this man was sitting at his desk in his office. He was on the phone with his five year-old child because his child just learned how to tie their shoes when suddenly; several agents approached the doorway. The man knew why they were there.
There are times when my eyes open wide enough to see clearly, and suddenly, I am aware of my actual size. I am aware of how so small I am.
In comparison to so many things, I am aware that we are all so infinitely small, and yet, I am also aware how something so small can be so amazingly huge, enormous, in fact—like a child, for example—or like an infant, or like a two year old I had never met but donated platelets from my blood. Then of course, there was a small boy that I only met for five minutes, but yet, this brief interaction changed everything for me.
When I began to consider my life and contemplate the ideas of taking on a new direction, I thought to myself, honestly, and I looked around at the fixtures on my wall in my home.
I looked at the photographs I had and the smiles on people’s faces. I swore, i didn’t want to be the way I was, but yet, I was.
I considered the people in my life. I thought about my friends and my family. I thought of this and after surviving me and defeating ideas of “Why me?” and, “Why do things like this always happen,” I took an honest look at me and my role in this opinion.
I looked at the things I did and all the projects I began but never finished. I looked at my perception of hope. I looked at my ability to endure and to continue.
North and south of me, up and down, or high and low. I am not alone here, not m I the only one the feels or thinks this way.
We’re not crazy, you and me.
We just wonder if we are.
morning . . .
You wake up
and there’s just nothing
nothing, and this has nothing to do with a place to live or money
I remember seeing a picture of a kid. He was holding a stick in his right hand that ran over his shoulder, and at the end of the stick, the kid tied a sack to it with all of his things inside.
He was running away.
Remember running away? I do. I used to run away all the time. I would stay gone for a while but I would eventually come home.
To Whom This May Concern;
Going forward and for me to move onward, I made a decision to reject the fear based or shame based ideas and the programs or programmed thinking that leads me back to depressive thought patterns that keep me stuck.