Tag Archives: patriotic

American Spirit

I was looking through my social media early one morning and was reminded how special the American spirit is to the world. This is a weekend for reflection to many, and as I reflect, I’m reminded how this spirit survives despite America’s government. The separation is clear.

I see the disconnect in the millions of heartfelt messages from folks about our service members who sacrificed all. Many of these messages are from folks who don’t know the pain of this loss personally, but empathize with those that do. We remember the WW11 widow who went on to make a new life with her scrapbook of memories of a love only dreamt, because no one gets left behind.

I read the anecdotes from a friend in Honduras sad about leaving friends behind to return home. I see photo’s of smiling men laboring to improve learning and living conditions for folks thousands of miles away. I feel the American spirit in their photos.

I see young soldiers with backpacks full of miniature flags walking rows of white headstones placing each one with the care of a loved one. I imagine in his mind the glory he dreamt of how each patriot found his home there.

I read about young folks just starting their journey in life upon graduating from 15 years of security and learning. I’ve watched them over the years clean houses and yards for older folks less fortunate. I’ve watched them build structures to lighten the burden for those less physically fortunate. I see the American spirit.

I see photos of babies. Some in hospitals and some taking the first step in a family video. As I read the comments I feel the pain and joy of folks distant or near as the empathize or celebrate with the parents joy or sorrow.

I’ve read the stories of Europe being attacked and the heartfelt comments from Americans who desperately want to ease the pain of someone they can’t even imagine, or might not have even liked. I see the cover photos superimposed with foreign flags in solidarity with folks they will never know.

I see my neighbors cutting each other’s grass. I see the person at the cash register receive change from the cashier because they were a few cents short. I see the folks on the side of the road laughing and joking as they change a flat tire. I read on yard sake sites of mothers giving away baby clothes that no longer fit to anyone who might need them. Everywhere I look I see the American spirit.

There are folks outside and within our country that would have you believe being American is something evil. They’ll point to political figures. They’ll try and convince you that lies and deceit are the coin of our realm. Hell, they’ll even try to convince you we’re responsible for the Christian crusades if you listen long enough. Some of these accusation are truths and half truths of our government, but they aren’t part of the American spirit.

Take time to really reflect this weekend, folks died for this holiday. They died for you before your parents were born. They died before they had children or families of their own. Don’t feel bad about barbecuing, or swimming, or having too many beers with your friends. This was part of why they put theirselves in harms way.

But…. Remember that when the weekend is over they would expect that you would share some old clothes with someone less fortunate. They would expect that you would help out the neighbor who can’t cut their grass. They would expect you support or travel somewhere far away to help out folks in need. They would expect you share a kind word with someone, on line or face to face with a hug.

Trust me when I tell you they knew about the disconnect with the government. They lived and died with it. They worked within it with hopes to change it. They could spot an idiot a mile away. They also understood we aren’t our government, hence; “We the people in order to form a more perfect union….. Remember all the way back to that revolutionary soldier who passed on for you to grill with a machine he could never imagine.

Remember Freedom and goodwill are alive today for your to carry forward. It’s a legacy left to us. I’m encouraged that every second of every day their sacrifices are living and breathing in our efforts to be a better neighbor around the world.

U.S.S. Implosion

The ship lists; the starboard side judges the port with fate, while the port side glares down with contempt and favor. Fore and aft are no longer considered as waves lap at the feet of passengers. Not knowledgable enough to assist, they chatter and regurgitate what deck hands think they know.
The Captain looks to his Lieutenants with hope. Hope that they knew more than how to appease guilded sleeves. Hope that they would glance below and feel something besides the power of privilege. Hope that the reality of the ocean spray would awaken their souls.
Below deck the rabble rouses to their station. Grumbling at the years of toil. It was fine when they had theirs and it mattered not that fools gold and real gold were just a matter of reality both purchased this moment.
When the ship sails there’s hope and dreams. When the ship docks there’s anticipation and wonder. Alas, when the ship sinks there’s realization. Realization that everything sinks, all cloth gets wet, and lungs fill at the same rate no matter the lineage.
Now the playing field is even. This is a dangerous moment. A moment where all that matters is within you. The will to live or die for yourself or something greater. Prayers won’t reach heaven before you’re gurgling salt water and prayers, time has becomes a noose.
The spectrum of human emotion and behavior play out below the Captains Mast as he loses faith in humanity and goes down with his ship and dignity, but go down he will, just like the porter in the bowels of the ship.
The scrim of civility dissipates with a reality that comforts some and destroys others. True colors replace national colors and whip in the wind. No place to hide before deaths grasp. Running within anarchy serves the purpose. Everything is futile but breath and thought.
So here we are in rougher seas in a ship that’s rolling with the sea rather than on it. There is no Captain, no dignity, no order. Humanities become a whirlwind of ignorance within green seas. No more “man overboard!”, it’s every man for himself.
The difference today is the rabble is no longer satisfied with waiting silently below for orders. They know there’s no real captain, just a man with a uniform that sinks at the same rate as their tattered rags. They know because knowledge is the currency of the day, understanding is a myth. Truth is a creation, and lies are tools of the trade.
These times have came before and passed. Many ships lay full of treasures to blind future generations of pirates. There are stories of victories over the sea that are humbly recorded and hesitantly retold, because the understanding that reality has layers that order maintains hinges on knowledge that hides the truth of humanity.

Free Man

I fight daily against an enemy of words. The world tries to steal my freedom with names that fit people, but make no sense to a person. All I want to do is honor the pride in my hands, the hands that feed my imagination and my hunger.

I have no color. I’m not a continent, I’m a land to myself. I live where my boundaries take me, not where I am placed. I build a life for my own, not for scavengers to fly above waiting till the time is ripe.

A group is insecure by nature and needs others to validate their beliefs, I need no man to walk the paths of my journey, you may shake my hand, but never my beliefs, so go elsewhere for weaker constitutions.

I see other men joining. I will never join anything but my beloved. I don’t need another mans glory to walk proud. I don’t need clothing and adornments to demonstrate my weakness within another mans prowess, I stand alone. You cannot define a free man, he won’t allow it.
I understand most men seek solace in the company of other men under a banner of past accomplishments by other men, but me, I’m not livestock. I’m brave enough to be free.

Things do not make me, the earth does. My nature is not built of glass and steel, I’m relentless like the growth that overtakes your buildings long after they’ve been abandoned for new fantasies.

I don’t need to be entertained by false displays of bravado or heroism. I fight a war for my existence everyday not to be defined by the ignorance around me. Slogans and creeds are the vines that choke a free man. Banners and flags are just signs of which direction the storm is coming. My mind is outside the realm of incarceration, no matter where my body is.

I wish no man Ill will, nor do I judge a man for being led. We stand where we’re placed, from there we put down roots based on our topography, or keep moving to avoid being cultivated. Germination is more than seeds in dirt, and to stand in awe at the explosion of light throughout your life trying to climb on the backs of other men like weeds in a garden doesn’t create fertile souls. Turning the soul over continuously prepares the mind to consider the spirit.

Stay free my friend. Resist the world and it defining ambitions. Don’t come my way with your seeds of destruction, it will be like planting seeds in a jungle, the wild ones will always take over and define themselves. I wish you a lifetime of calloused hands toiling, and sweating brows dripping, into your own pastoral bliss.