It is true that if you love what you do for a living then you will never have to go to work another day of your life. It is also true that you can always love what you do. But, be advised; this doesn’t always mean someone will pay you. Just because you love to do something doesn’t mean someone will buy into your craft. For example, I love music but I don’t think Radio City Music Hall is in my future any time soon.
Love what you do for a living and you’ll live a happy life. This is all true. However, for most of the world, the working life is a chore and tasked-filled event. For most people, their job often comes with few rewards. This includes dealing with people that are less than desirable. This means bosses and a possible environment that is substandard or unsatisfying. It is true that a harsh work environment can take over morale. It is also true that a good attitude can get any of us through the day. But yet, this is life and much of our life consists of working for a living.
Understanding the Animal Called Me
When you’re lost, you want to find something familiar. You want to be found or at least feel safe. I have an interest in the way the mind works. I’m interested in the way people sell things to me and how billion-dollar companies tap into the mind of their consumers.
I have an interest in reading a book entitled, The Human Animal. To be clear, I have an interest in anything that helps me understand why we think or why we feel or act. The emotional brain is interesting to me, which of course, I have my own reasons for wanting to understand. Know what I mean?
A Prose From the Daddy Diaries
You were small once. (Remember?)
I can recall the look in your eyes. I can remember the glare on your face while twirling a little sparkler and the amazement was wild. You were little. You were young as ever and the world was so new. Everything was so big and amazing, like the colored flashes in the nighttime sky on the 4th of July.
There is a picture I have of you somewhere. You were in a little blue princess dress. It was Halloween and your little plastic orange pumpkin was filled with candy. I can see this in my mind. I can see your smile. I can see the darkness behind you and the street we used to live on.
Not for Everyone: Just for You
There is something I understand which I understand well. I understand the terms of loneliness. I understand the feelings of being lost or empty or worse; I understand the feeling of being absolutely nothing at all.
I say this openly and without shame or regrets. I also say this because at last, I don’t have to impress anyone anymore. And besides, this isn’t about anyone else.
I do not mind what people think about this nor do I have room to care about outside opinions. This is between us and this thing we call mental health. And I get it. Stigma is real. I know it is.
This is real to me too. I look the way I look. I talk the way I talk and act the way I act. I have this thing inside of me, which at times, this thing can be hard to live with.
It’s an idea. No, wait. It’s a thought. It’s a sense of being detached or not being included; and by the way, I have this thing even if I am included. I have this thing in me that lies and whispers. I wanted it to go away but no, it never did.
Notes From the Heart: Time for Some Truth
I admit it . . .
I don’t know much about what it’s like to live with a different culture. I’ve never grown up in anyone else’s home nor do I understand what it feels like to live with anyone else’s thoughts or ideas.
There are words I hear in corporate settings, which fascinate me. I find these words amazing. Truly, I do.
I hear words like diversity. I hear about equity and inclusion. I hear about the attempts to unite and show a sense of cultural competency. I hear about this happening within the workplace and yet, something worse than the division between people is the false pretense of unity; to check off a box, to fill a quota, to say “Hey, look over here.” “Look what we’re doing?
I have met with people who declare this necessary; to practice inclusion and celebrate diversity. And yet, I have seen them celebrate this from their exclusive social clubs.
So tell me. What’s the truth?
Let’s Have a Little Talk About Adversity
There’s a little race that takes place inside our heads. This is where we wonder. This is where we battle with ourselves. This is where the struggles to overcome exist more than ever. It’s here in the mind because after all, this is where we do one of two things; either we overcome or we give in.
Continue readingJust For Fun: Here’s a Little “Here’s to You” Poem
Here’s to you.
Here’s to the summer and the upcoming months.
Here’s to the little towns that nobody knows about where little kids chase down ice cream trucks and buy candies that make their tongues turn blue.
Personal Best
The reason why they call something a “personal best” is because it’s personal. The question becomes what has to happen for a person to be at their best? Is the answer as simple as eat well, exercise and sleep right? Or is it more? Is the answer deeper than step challenges, wellness seminars and nutritional programs?
Perhaps, for a person to be at their best, they would have to define what their best truly is. This means defining our skill sets, which means we have to understand the tools we keep in our tool box. We have to understand our resources and how to use them accordingly. To be the best means to be able to maintain and sustain the highest qualities of our life. This has nothing to do with anyone else or the way others rate good, better or best. This cannot be hinged upon anyone or anything. This is not hinged upon outcomes or outside circumstances. To be the best means to hold a personal level of proficiency and maintain this, regardless of the different intervals of achievement and success. And lastly, to brand ourselves as the best has to come from within.
Continue readingMy Preface
Bedtime Stories for the Insomniac is something I have been working on for a very long time. All of the stories here are true to me. The chapters you are about to read have been inspired by life on life’s terms. The following pages are a collection from my journals. All of this is very real and personal to me. Take the name of the book for example, my idea for the title is very simple. I never sleep much. I’m up late and wake up early. There are times when I lay in bed thinking about life. I think about everything, which is probably why I have insomnia. I think about serious things. I question the universe. There are times when I question myself and challenge my own assumptions. There are times when I relive old memories with a smile or think about places in the world that I hope to see one day. This is what the book is about. This is life from my perspective.
Continue readingThe Sequence of a Road Trip
There was a little town just a few miles above the border at Juarez. I remember this like a picture in my mind. I know I was there and yet, the memory is more like a story that I was told about a life that happened to someone else.
I had been in the car with my family for hours. This long drive began from my Mother’s hometown in Carlsbad, New Mexico. The drive was mainly through an open and empty highway with nothing else around us except for the desert.
I had never seen anything like this before. The desert itself was vast and vacant, barren and empty, and yet beautiful at the same time. The sands ran on for miles with a shade of perfect emptiness.
We began this trip in the early morning when the sun came up. I could only imagine what a drive like this would be like at nighttime when the sky is nothing else but a full moon and a sea of glistening stars.
The Written Addiction 