Love-
The word means more than we think.
Love means we have a heart. Love means we feel.
We connect.
Love is this thing we have; it lives and it breathes.
Love expands and contracts.
Love is hope in hopeless times.
Love is painful. Love hurts. Love does not operate according to logic.
Love is a night when you can’t sleep because of fear and insecurity; meanwhile, all it would take is to hear the voice of your loved one
and then next, all would rest easily.
As I see it, there will always be a reason. There will always be an excuse. And excuses make sense, which is why we use them.
What are the common ones?
Too tired? Too frustrated? Don’t have enough time? Don’t have the energy? Don’t have the patience it takes? Don’t have enough money? Don’t have enough help?
Or—
Is it that you don’t have the words to define what you need? Is that you lack the language to describe the worries you feel? Maybe you don’t have the drive it takes to continue because once we pass the threshold of ability; this means we are capable, which means we owe it to ourselves, which means we have to be responsible now. This means we are responsible for the output. This means we are accountable for our actions, which means we have to take action on a daily basis.
But inherently, there is an immature laziness that does not want to be held accountable for anything. It’s like having a child inside, always tugging on our pant leg, always looking for recognition, always looking to be comforted, always looking to be validated, and never wanting to be cold or hungry, alone or uncomfortable.
I remember after quitting one of my first sales jobs, the sales manager pulled me to the side to have a quick talk before I left. He understood the position was not a match for me, which was fine.
However, in parting, the sales manager offered a kind handshake and left me with the following words as a gift of motivation.
He said, “Whatever you do, just work real hard and you will get wherever you want to go.”
There was a sponsor I had almost 20 years ago. His name was Nick. He was interesting to say the least. He was tough sometimes and passive on other days. Either way, Nick was my sponsor nonetheless.
One of the biggest takeaways I learned from Nick is that I cannot give in to intimidation and I cannot be afraid to try new things.
“So what if it doesn’t work?”
“Keep going until you figure it out,” Nick would say.
I know right now that everything seems crucial.
Your friends, popularity, the kids in class, the things you do, the music you like, the jokes you tell, even the clothes you wear are things that revolve around a crowd.
Not everyone is the same, which is a good thing. But even when we are different, truth is we all just want to get along.
I remember a night out downtown South of Houston, or SoHo, as it’s called. I remember thinking about the people I was with.
I thought of the pretentiousness of people standing at the bar, fueling each other with lies and drinks like whiskey and bourbon.
There was a portion of the night where I stood off to the side to just watch them.
When there was nowhere else to turn and no one left to blame, when all was down, the world was like this big place with too many doorways, too many windows, and too many options for me to consider. And me, I was on my own in a way I had never experienced before. My pockets were empty. I was alone in a new way.
I felt overwhelmed by the idea of rebuilding my life. I struggled to see my ability to adapt or overcome; however, and perhaps, this was when I realized my ability is equal to my belief.
When there is no room left to fall and there is no more damage to take on, all there is was me and my conclusion; I had nothing left to fear. My predictions became true.
Continue readingThere was just too much . . .
Too much time, too much excess, too many excuses, and too many things between you me, us, and the rest of the world. There was too much need, which seemed to benefit the basic meaning of supply and demand.
I used to be friends with a kid named Chris. I lived with him for a short while. Actually, we roomed together in a facility up a place in the town of Liberty, New York.
Chris was a tough kid. He was physically capable and good looking. The girls liked him. Safe to say everyone liked Chris (except for Chris.)
He played basketball. They said he had the ability to take his game to the next level. All he needed to do was learn to get out of his own way.
Chris had an anger problem. He drank too much and partied too often. Chris came from a history of abuse.
He was a street kid with a tough exterior.
Safe to say I admired him.
Worth the rewrite:
Speaking of worth . . .
Here’s a little poem about value –
The things people say are often different from the things we hear.
But hey, in the land of Interpretation, misconception is king (or queen, depending upon the circumstance.)
