Monthly Archives: August 2014

Chasin My Tale!

I can’t write anything, that’s not focused enough to be coherent. I have to write something, but my brain is stuck on nothing. So here I sit letting my fingers type towards something I can’t see or understand. Just my mind walking through briers.

It is hard to come up with a metaphor for something that is nothing. Maybe space, the cosmos, or atmospheres would suffice. Either way it’s just nothing. Now I wonder If I can write a complete essay on nothing interesting enough to maintain the train of thought.
It’s not difficult t babble. Folks on TV or the bored neighbor do it all the time. I just listen numbly thinking, or not thinking, about anything but what I’m hearing. Most folks call that “zoning out”!
So maybe something that’s nothing can be anything I want. Can you really have an imagination that leads to nothing. I guess I can since your still reading waiting for something.
Ok, the lesson is that if you think too much you can end up doing the intellectual version if a dog chasing its tail. In the end it’s ok, I still exercised my brain and occupied some time doing something besides nothing and any things still possible to fit in this rubric.
The beginning!!!


Who I am?

We can’t define ourselves by the spaces we move around in. That makes us vulnerable to limiting ourselves as humans. We are a person before we are people, or American, or Irish, etcetera.,.

I’m tired if being something, I want to be me. Geographic boundaries shouldn’t define my character. Socio economic status doesn’t make me successful, and a career choice doesn’t limit my ability. There are even more limiting factors in society like denominations, health, politics, regions, and the list goes on so long you end up at the end of a tunnel looking at the sunlight and realizing you’re standing in the dark.
Who we are is human. These boxes we’ve been assigned to limit our ability to come together. Race is the obvious category that separates us. But there are much more powerful divisions that subtly keep us apart. I’m  sick of sacrificing my humanity for society.

The bible tells us in the book of proverbs that pride goes before the fall. The meaning of this wisdom goes straight to the heart of the problems we share as humans. As humans letting nature take its course cooperation replaces competition. Pride separates humans into people who are divided by physical and cultural characteristics. This sets the stage for the fall.

The spaces I live in are mine. No one owns my humanity but me unless I allow them. I can live in this world and not be an American, and live in America and not be Irish, or be poor and live a great life. All I have to do is focus on the folks in my circle and the relationships I have and let others focus on who they are and what they have. I’m done chasing the dreams of ancient geniuses distorted by modern separatist.

Shadow Walls

I feel the heat, and the air is sweltering with memories. invisible memories that steal your eyes from the moment.

Memories of feelings, not places course through our blood stream as a legacy of trust. A universal landscape of feelings and emotions that feed my soul. Along the landscape of my mind I see pictures of you wrapped in ancient feelings of love and fear shared hundreds of thousands of years over time.

This primitive version of us where emotions overlapped each other with every new scent on the mind. Now we’re distracted, irritated, or elated with the same circumstances we’ve always faced. Memories don’t live in dark shadows with garbled noises. They scream louder with each degree and clearer with every realization that time isn’t always an eraser, it is a recorder as well.

Handed down through the millennium with a legacy of trust, emotions run deep and true to life, we’re emotionally gifted with reactions to life’s challenges. These aren’t tools for the industrious, there digits in the fists of mankind.

Trust your instincts, their part of us all and the walls we put up between sanity and desire only serve to blind us to a future of bliss. Trust that those who have passed over before us wonder our horizons carrying our emotions like myst in the mornings dew.

We ‘re never alone in this world. We just consciously choose to put up walls across a beautiful landscape that we can breathe in and walk forward into the sunlit tomorrow. So open your heart and eyes to the past and carry it along the day looking to tomorrow knowing that you carry more than a tear, you carry a legacy of emotion that is beautiful and purposeful. Tear down the walls.

Teh Odl Dyas!!!

I met a man blessed with the ability to not be able to read or write, yes I said blessed. The world he created is a work he completed with admirable energy and persistence. It got me to thinking what the real value of these two skills are!
Meeting this man and talking with him I didn’t know at the time he never learnt to “read and write his letters”, as he would say. He worked for himself and built a business that afforded him the opportunity to do the things he loved and maintain a decent home life with an average sized family. He gardened vegetables as a hobby and enjoyed fishing. To anyone who didn’t know any better he would seem like the guy who graduated High School and worked hard at being successful, not a man who never really participated in the school experience past Elementary School; much like the “old days”, as he would say.
It made some sense to me in some ways. We start school so young nowadays; so as adults most of our childhood memories are of school experiences. That was’nt so in “the old days” I started school at six years old; there was no kindergarten “back then”. We played outside everyday from the time we were old enough to make a mess in the house, so we learnt to value a clean organized home that we lived in, not just ate dinner and slept in.

We spent much of our days learning to “figure things out” with our friends instead of living in the prepared environment of a classroom. By the time we went to school we already learnt to put a chain on our bicycles, use scrap to build a house in a tree, and solve arguments by fighting and makin up without any adults interfering.
It may be easier, (even cheaper) today to buy a new bike, buy a Little Tykes fort, and have a teacher solve our disputes; but surely something’s lost in the process. Simply digging in the dirt taught us about hard work and cooperation.
We weren’t taught at home how to read and write, that was the teachers job! We did learn respect and cooperation to the point we knew if behavior was a problem at school, it would become a problem for us at home. And vice versa; we better have payed attention at school and learned, cause with chores, meals, and bathes there was not much time for “school learning”.
Learning is a human function like breathing. We don’t need a Doctor, hospital, or medication to live a healthy life. My friend is in his fifties now and with the muscle he’s created working and “stayin busy” he puts most folks in their late twenties to shame; and I ain’t referring to “fake muscle”, as he would say. I’m talking about “work muscle” that can move through its full range if motion bearing weight for hours on end. “Not for show, for go!”, as my friend would say.
Retirement ain’t in my friends plans, he loves what he does and sittin around a TV hours a day would be the death of him. The thought makes no sense. Why would you work at something your whole life with a goal to be able to stop doing it! Do something you love and “make a go at it.” If it don’t work out the first time “pull up your britches and try again”. If you really love it you’ll make it work, if not you’ll move onto something else.
I learnt alot from my “illiterate” friend who’s life is a success. Os nwo I rdea fro ejmetneo adn wteri ym ltertse jsut ot sgin ym nema. I lvei ecah dya ot rdea fro fnu adn wtrie tihs bolg ot lnear sa mchu sa I cna aobut teh pleoep I lvoe adn crea fro, lkie teh odl dyas, tahnsk ot ym “odl feinrd I ma a suscecs nwo!


Ok. So let’s shake off the structures that define us and the expectations of the society we move around in. Taking it a step further we can set aside the culture that colors our perception and the institutional beliefs and goals that weigh us down as humans.
Ok , so we’re just two people now interacting as humans without any pre conceived notions, right.
I know this is scary for many folks. Not being the teacher, the nurse, or the parent leaves some folks without an identity. Much of our life is defined by what we do professionally.
Two people interacting as just humans involves emotions and honesty, two very taboo concepts when folks are just “Chewing the Fat”.I’m a person, and I like people. I enjoy the complex interaction of family. I look forward to the friendships I have that mutually support my friends and I through celebrations and tragedies. I live life for the interpersonal relationships I am blessed to be part of.
I don’t like going to the dentist or the doctor, and I certainly don’t want to sit around the fire talking to one about dentistry or surgical techniques.
I didn’t like school enough to sit around on the porch and talk about students and learning strategies, but I will talk about kids and the crazy ideas and actions they come up with.
It takes an effort and awareness beyond logic to remind myself I’m human, I’m a person, and the structures I move around in physically aren’t conducive to maintaining my sanity. I have to really listen, truly look at my surrounding environment with all my senses to not get caught up in the expectations of structure.
This is not the land of the free, it the land of the sub consciously oppressed.
Emerson once wrote about industrialization fragmenting man. He used the metaphor of the power of the fist being weakened by each digit being given a different function thus weakling the whole hand. Well we’re being fragmented into parts and pieces that can’t be put together and our national psyche, if there is such thing, is twisted like the metal remains of a terror attack.
So I’m hiding, I do not want to sacrifice my sanity or buy into a “system” just to support an idea based on dreams; where I am is real. My emotions, my fears, my hopes; there all real! I refuse to hand them over to some group of individuals who want me to spend my life’s energy dreaming of being like them, “Hell, no!”
There are situations and circumstances where I have to put on my societal suit with all it’s accouterments. It’s very uncomfortable and I feel foolish wearing it. When I walk through my door at home you can bet I take that suit off. I shake off the dysfunctions as if I just came in from a snow storm covered in white flakes melting at my feet. Free and warm, that’s my happy!!!

Crying the Dream!!!

There’s a lot to learn from the first day of school. Even before your child steps foot in the classroom the learning begins. The biggest lessons in life are learned in these situations, we don’t even have to sit in class and write letters and numbers to realize something’s over. A change of paradigmetical proportion! Yes I just made up another word.
All the tears associated with the first day of school could possibly create a flood that could compete with Noah’s adventure. The fear and apprehension would create an overcast sky around the world, a day of doom. An individual “end times” that marks freedom as a memory. This day takes all the micro comforts of family and friends and places your child into the indoctrination to the macro dysfunction of the pursuit of dreams, but don’t dare be a dreamer!
This phase change is part of a structural strangling of sanity! Before school we have this perfect structured life that is driven by basic needs. We have to eat meals, have play time, and take naps. There’s a little micro management with each event like, bath time, bedtime story, and prayers when it’s time to really dream. But this is all a set up!
When school starts everything is micro managed and there’s a seven hour stranglelizaton, (I love inventing words) that sucks the life out of everyone involved, and some that aren’t. Like the Principal at the school who drives home listening to “Black Dog” by “Led Zepplin” just to leave behind the thought of what the teachers and children will come up with tomorrow. Doesn’t make much sense when I put it like that, hmmm!
Anyway, this is a set up also. There’s still a little slack in the rope. You can’t stay in school forever, even though some folks try as hard as the pre K child who cries in the car all the way to his cubby. Graduation comes with the realization that you have to hang yourself a little longer, so you resolve yourself to a career to support those dreams that were shoved down your brain for one score and four years. Now you’ve gone to a new level of structured ignorance, you love the work that strangles your day.
Now some folks will use words like rewarding, accomplishment, or fulfillment when justifying their choice that they didn’t make, and it may be true in a few cases. But it just seems weird to me that when you interview for this new and exciting adventure a main topic is vacation, comp time, and pay for overtime. Doesn’t seem to me that those are issues to discuss if you’re doing something you love!!!
So, before I get too far out there let me redirect my thoughts. It’s ok for the child sad about leaving home to have a fit. It’s survival to learn to like that structure enough one day to try and stay in school and get three degrees you can’t use. It’s even ok to get a job and refuse overtime, be negative on comp time, and take vacations on a quarterly basis. This person loves life!
If we think for a minute outside the boxes we’ve been put in it’s possible to enjoy life and endure the structure that make us “other than human; like say, a carpenter or lawyer, maybe even a teacher! The school experience is up to about 18 years now for the person attaining a Bachelors level degree, and 22 or more for the coveted PHD. In the end we end up looking to retirement as the “Golden Years”.
None of this makes sense to me anymore except the 4 year old headed to pre school with a book bag full of tears. We are supposed to buy into the fact that from age 4 till 67 we are going to live our lives in this structural madness. Well I guess my little four year old buddy is the smartest one in the bunch, he lives the platitudes we espouse will his whole heart. Family is the most important, “blood is thicker than water”, or “home is where the heart is”; Adam and I believe this and live it, to hell with everyone else.

Goodbye: A Memory From A Friend!

The emotion of a single tear flows through my veins like lightning. My breath thinks while my heart stops to wonder about the streak of pain lining the beauty of a smile. It’s a moment defined, a connection that words can’t create, yet I struggle with the expression in an attempt at understanding.
How do I reflect on a distant person inside me that I was. I love myself and hate her! She represents all I’ve never understood about myself and life. I hate she thrives on my failure and blindfolds my spirit to walk in dark places that I would never go. I can’t forget her and that’s the worst part. If I ignore her she creeps into my conscience and wrecks havoc on my life. I have to love her. I have to take her good qualities and walk away.
It’s like shedding skin that I saw as beautifully glamorous, but everyone else saw a mottled mess. How could she masquerade as me. I’m not who you saw, you saw her wrapped around the beautiful person I am. I screamed inside to you, but all you saw was her, and that made her stronger and me weaker. You wouldn’t talk to her, hug her, or grab her and take her to a home, but I was inside her screaming for you to take me away.
You knew me, and judged her, but I suffered through the blindness. I couldn’t always reach out through her web of deceit. She lied to you while I wept, she stole from you while I hated her for it, she used my body and I was ashamed. I wanted truth, loyalty, and love. She showed me hate and lies wrapped in a twisted basket of love; and I knew love once. She couldn’t deceive me when she said you didn’t care, I knew you were just looking for me.
Well now I’m here and I see the echo of her face in your halfhearted smile and condescending comments. Now we talk, we no longer feel. I’m past that now and you’ve lost an opportunity at grace. I’m sorry that now you have to share hate, lies, and shame. I see them in every memory you share to lift your spirits. I’m more than a story or anchor for your insecurities. I don’t deserve the memories played back for entertainment, I deserve to be set free on a new path without the burden of her and you.
I’m free now and my spirit soars in the light. Your shadows and her lies don’t affect me anymore. I’m in control of me and she has no place in my life, nor does anyone who liked her. I’m not a mirror for you to reflect her image so your selfie looks better. I don’t worry anymore because I have empathy now that I’ve seen what that is. I only wish you would have known and shown me your lighter side. I can only hope you’ll find your her in the mirror and someone will run to you and unravel your darker mysteries.
As I travel down the road looking in the rear view mirror I’m not sad, nor am I happy. Just a little melancholy that I left her with you at the crossroads. I had to, there’s no room in me or my world for either one of you. I supported you both emotionally and all it got me was lost. The sad part is neither of you care and you’ll be off to consume the next victim before I round the corner. Hopefully they will find true love and friendship faster than I did because the only thing ya’all can offer is pain. Goodbye!!!!