Loss

Loss: Such a short word to describe such a truly terrible feeling.  One that we all deal with in different ways.  Grief and loss are generally coped with in different stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  It seems like a pretty predictable, albeit seemingly unhealthy, cycle.  Unfortunately not everyone goes through all of these stages, some get stuck and suffer from interminable grief, and some don't experience any grief during or after a loss.

I ran across an interesting read today that mentioned a few studies that found that those that repress grief were physically and psychologically healthier in the long run than those that grieve more.  It does mention that repressing grief and denial are two very different things. (The read was on Psychology Today's website)

Just because there is a cycle to follow, that does not always guarantee that the recovery period is any kind of predictable either.  It can vary so much from person to person.  While some may recover in weeks or months, it may take others years, and of those, some may experience a more difficult time the second year than they did the first – so it’s not always a battle that gets easier over time.  I can vouch for this, as dealing with the loss of my father was much more difficult in the second year than it was in the first.

Another factor in the speed in which one recovers is the ability to find meaning.  When we can find meaning in loss, we are able to cope with that loss much better than when we cannot.  I suppose that was why I had such a hard time with my father.  I was upset with him for so long because I felt like he didn’t fight as much as he could.  I couldn’t find meaning when I needed it.  It wasn’t until I read his journal after the fact that I truly understood why he didn’t want the constant hospital visits and aftermath for my mom.

When it comes to helping others deal with loss, it is incredibly important to respect that everyone has their own methods of dealing with it, and that yours cannot be forced on them.  Minimizing the loss is also something that should never be done.  It is impossible to understand how that person feels, or what that loss means to them. The best thing to do is listen, empathize and just be there. Physically be there.

I found a lot of interesting things on the subject, some of them I had known before, but it was quite enlightening to me today.  I hadn’t even set out to find these things.  I had originally set out to understand why I have such an immediate emotional response – sometimes anger, sometimes sadness – to loss.  I wanted to understand why I make comments that are unfair and mean when I’m trying to deal with loss.

This year I have had my fair share of loss to deal with.  From death, to jobs, friends, family members, and the loss of loved ones, it’s been a bit overwhelming.  My counselor suggested that I do some of my own research on grieving and loss because I have the type of personality that will understand it more, or learn it better, if I do my own digging rather than *just* hearing it from someone else.

Yesterday was also a pretty intense day for loss.  From my job being put on the line, to visitation with one of my kids looking like it’s going to become a major battle, to someone I care deeply about, I reacted with anger. I skipped denial, and went straight to anger. Childish, immature, and stupid anger. I’m embarrassed and incredibly regretful that I reacted in this way, and it’s something I need to fix going forward.

Sometimes, the lesson we think we are learning on the outside, is not always the actual lesson we are being taught on the inside.

Scars of all Types

As I got out of the shower this morning I ran my fingers over the giant scar on my head, and it was tender.  I started to think to myself, “why hasn’t this healed completely yet?”  The answer to that is that it hasn’t been enough time.  It’s only been 5 weeks since my surgery – I can’t believe that is all it’s been because so much has happened since then – and it’s going to be tender for a while. 

I started looking at other scars on my body (there are quite a few) and some of them are still tender.  One on my knee has been there since last April and it’s still a little bit sensitive.  Others are just there and the only things that are ‘tender,’ are the memories that come with each of them.  Bike accidents to pulling metal out of a wall and cutting my head open, and pretty much everything you can imagine in between. 

My poor mother must be the strongest person I know to have seen me go through so much and still have a beating heart.

Anyway, I suppose the point is that all scars serve a purpose.  Whether it’s to remind us of something stupid we’ve done, to remind us of an amazing time we had that just ended up with us getting hurt, or just to help us recall some memories that, if not for said scars, we’d never recall again.  While the pain eventually subsides, the memory is still there, and it’s there forever.

By The Wayside

Tonight I ran across a poem that I wrote when I was about 11 years old about friendship.

                When all is lost and there’s no one around,

                When you are so scared you can’t make a sound,

                When all of life’s troubles pile on you,

                When you want to break down ‘cause you’re so blue.

                When no one’s around for you to cry on,

                When everyone you care for seems to be gone,

                When everything goes so wrong you could cry,

                When you need a friend on which you can rely.

                When the rest of the world has shut you out,

                And you can’t understand how it came about,

                When love, laughter and smiles are no more,

                When everyone else has hurt you to the core.

                I’ll be there for you when you need to talk,

                Or if you just want to go for a walk.

                I’ll be there to make you laugh when you cry,

                I’ll be that friend on which you can rely.

I was 11 so it rhymed (poetry had to rhyme at that point in life or it was just a short story) and it was cheesy, but it’s not how well it was written that struck me so hard.  It was titled A Good Friend.  At 11 years old I knew what it meant, to me, to be a good friend.

I’ve been struggling with how loose the term ‘friend’ is being thrown around lately.  It seems as though some people are willing to call you friend, but they aren’t willing to grant you friendship. 

I have people in my life that I just met a few months ago, and people in my life that I have known since I was in the 6^th grade.  I’ve learned that how long you know someone doesn’t have any effect on how much you can trust them.  What really matters is how much shit they have seen you through.  Now, that doesn’t mean watched you go through – not at all.  It means held you up while going through it with you.

It’s funny because life was so perfect for so long that the friends I had made in the meantime, I considered my closest friends.  We did everything together.  I have some of the greatest memories of my life from these friends, but as soon as the shit hit the proverbial fan, they scattered faster than said shit and left a far worse stain on my wall.

Recently life became not so perfect.  Friends that I have always been close with, but perhaps lost touch with because life moves in different directions, came out of the woodworks to support me.  Friends whose friendship had been tried and tested through rough times in the past, and it made it through.  Friends that have been through the previous hardest moments of my life; through divorce, seeing my kids go through the most pain I can imagine a child going through, a premature newborn in the ICU for a month.  Things that make me tear up just remembering how it felt.  Things that were out of my control as well as things that were of my own doing – and not always because I made the right choice.  But they stuck it out.  They stood by my side, offered advice, and loved me no less than they did before.  Often times they loved me more.

My father passed away two and half years ago.  It was the night after Christmas and I was out on a date with a lot of my friends.  I should have been home, but I was stubborn.  Many of the friends I had with me were ‘new’ friends.  Others had known me nearly my entire life.  All of them were supportive through that time.  The next few weeks were incredibly tough, and I’m sure I looked to be a fool a few times.  But they held me up. Of course they did.

Recently I have been going through what I maintain to be the hardest trials in my life.  A few of them stacked on top of each other.  I feel as if some of my friends have turned their backs on me, and they feel as if they are justified. 

To me, this is the true test of friendship.  When I’m not at my best, how do you treat me?

I know I’ve been mean. I know I’ve made decisions that people disagree with. I know that I’ve hurt people close to me, and if I could, I would go back and change a few things.  Unfortunately, I can’t.  I can say, in my defense, that narcotics (prescribed), brain surgery, feeling abandoned, not having complete control over your emotional responses, all have a pretty big effect on you individually, let alone when all thrown together.

What did I need from my friends that were so upset with me?  Love. That’s it. I needed them to set aside their upset feelings and be there for me. Not ignore me. Not let me sit alone in a room fending for myself. Not continually discuss the things they were upset about amongst each other while I was helplessly feeling lost and angry.  I needed them to visit. I needed them to care. I needed them to selflessly set aside their feelings and tend to mine, just for a minute, until I healed, so we could do what friends do and talk.

I didn’t get that from a lot of friends. I got it from a few. Those are the friendships I cherish and the friendships I will fight for.

During the most difficult moments in my life – some of them by my choice, some of them not – new friendships emerged while others diminished, new love developed while old love was lost, and most importantly, new priorities were found while old priorities fell to their proper place; by the wayside.

Trials and Lessons Learned

As many of you know I've gone through some pretty tough stuff lately in life. It's stuff that I've tried to play off as 'not a big deal' and something I'll completely get through. I still maintain the last part. What I can't say, anymore, is that it's not a big deal. It's one of the hardest things I've gone through, emotionally and physically. I also realize that I'm lucky to be doing as well as I am. Very lucky. 


I've learned a few things through this, but number one is this:

Life is too short and too volatile to hold back. The root thing in life that is truly not worth any time is hate. Everything else you do, do it fully. Love, care, desire, hope.


There are many more things I've learned and more things to say, but this one is the first in priority.


Lesson Number 2 from the Tumor (and a friend): "The things you work the hardest for are the ones that are harder to take away and can last forever." - Lucas Kirby


Lesson Number 3: The thing about hardships is that they teach you who you can trust. I'm not perfect. Far from it. But I certainly know what I would do for a friendship, and what I'm willing to accept in return. It's not about a lack of ownership, it's about respect. If you don't have that, you don't have friendship.


Lesson number 4: Not everyone you meet, fall in love with, care about or that cares about you will be in your life forever. Just make damn sure that while they are, they know what they mean to you. And when they go, try to let them know the same. The last thing you want is to leave something positive unsaid and then lose that connection forever. That being said, don't let go of anything easily. Fight for it as long as there is something to fight for.


Lesson number 5: If I care about you and you say you do me, then support me and show it. If you can't, leave and don't look back until you can.


Lesson Number 6: Don't judge. If you think you would have made a different decision in life than someone you know, you're wrong. The fact is, you cannot in any way know what they have been through leading up to that point, nor what they are going through in the moment. Your gift of hindsight and an outside perspective grants you an advantage that is never present in the moment. So instead of judging or thinking you could do better, just understand, love, accept and support those that you care about.


It's slightly sad to me that it takes giant events or trials for us to realize what we have and what we could lose, what our priorities are and what they should be. It's only slightly sad because it's in our nature. We adjust to our surroundings and we accommodate life in order to be happy.  We 'settle in,' so to speak.  


As much as it pains me to admit, there is a song that reminds of these situations far too much, and it's a Country song.  Live Like You Were Dying.  It reminds me of my dad, and how much he went through the last 6 months of his life. It reminds me of the things I wished I had said to him, and how I wish I could have grasped the gravity of my decisions so I could let go of my pride and mend the open wounds.  It's a song that I used to listen to while driving around with him in his Jeep, nowhere to go, just around.  There isn't anything especially clever in the lyrics, and that's what I like about it. It's simple. So simple that we often lose track of the concept in our daily lives.


I'm not writing this claiming to have all of the answers.  Far from it, in fact.  I just wish to share the little bit of perspective that I've gained through this.  I've learned a lot about love, happiness, family, friendship, caring and hope.  It's incredible how much any one of those things can change you, for better or worse, if you let it.


To me there are only two certainties in life.  One is our own mortality.  The second, is that we shouldn't (and don't have to) let that pending mortality interfere with enjoying every moment we can, to it's fullest, with those we love and want around us, living for the single purpose of being happy. In fact, that pending mortality should be the driving force in accomplishing those things because, as unfortunate as it is, mortality comes in an instant and you don't always get to 'plan' for it.

Hate Crimes and Discrimination

In light of the new bill about to be introduced to the United States House of Representatives, I feel it appropriate to discuss my thoughts on the subject. The bill is to be a Hate Crimes Prevention Act which will protect the rights of all individuals as the current one does, but would also include sexuality and gender identity as well as disability while taking out the part that requires it to be a federal offense.

Religious organizations across the country are battling this bill claiming that it would put a ‘muzzle’ on their rights of speech. They fear that if sexual orientation and gender identity are protected then they won’t be able to read passages from the bible or teach their congregation that homosexuality is against the word of God.

They even cite situations in other countries where pastors have been arrested for giving such sermons in their churches. Fortunately for the pastors that live in the United States of America, they are protected in their freedom of speech – the First Amendment to the Constitution.

Some are claiming that this bill would require law enforcement to spend extra money on crimes that are considered to be “Hate Crimes.” They claim that it creates a minority or a prejudice against those committing the crimes and is unfair. They claim that the term “Hate Crime” creates a prejudice and that all crimes should be prosecuted equally.

There are a few problems with this way of thinking. Currently, our entire judicial and punishment systems are based nearly entirely on motive. The different degrees of murder are determined by motive. Thinking out and preplanning a murder is held differently than a crime of passion, or even self defense. Someone could die because of your actions but based on your intent, motive and state of mind, you could face different punishments or even no punishment at all. Why would it be okay to exclude the motive of hatred for a large group of people based on how they are?

The problem with these anti-freedom organizations that wish to fight this Hate Crimes bill, is that they are completely discriminatory in their actions. There was no outcry from these organizations when the original bill (that passed and is currently in effect) classed these Hate Crimes as crimes committed against someone based on their race, religion, color, ethnicity or national origin. There was no fight when that bill was signed because they were the ones being protected.

Now that the protection is extending to groups that they deem to be ‘wrong’ or ‘immoral’ these organizations are screaming that the entire idea is wrong. They are so eager to limit the rights of people with opposing lifestyles that they are willing to overlook the fact that this bill would include people with physical and mental disabilities.

It is a disturbing thought that we, as humans, would want to limit anyone’s right to live free and safe without worrying for their safety just because of the way they are.

There are bills across the country being shot-down that are trying to make it illegal to discriminate against someone based on their sexual orientation, gender identification and/or disability when it comes to housing, employment, credit, public accommodations and services.
Reasons for voting against these bills range from “Those lifestyles are a choice” to “It’s not right in the eyes of God.” The second you mention ‘God’ in reference to laws, you have lost the argument. Discussing the religious side of this debate is not necessary.

Even if your sexuality is a choice, even if one chooses to identify with a different gender than they were ‘assigned’ at birth, at what point is that a reason to deny anyone basic human rights and fair treatment? Marriage aside, what about the right to work? What about the right to stay in a homeless shelter? What about the right to have a house or a credit card, or even buy a car? There is no reason to deny anyone these rights, and to discriminate against anyone for any reason in any of these cases only hinders our ability to progress as a society.

It amazes me that less than 50 years ago we were having this same debate, only, the issue wasn’t sexual orientation or gender identification, it was race. It is even more astonishing that less than 300 years ago humanity had reached the same point, but that time it was about religion.

Out of these terrible discriminations came some amazing progressions for society, but for some reason, here we are, still bound by our own fear and ignorance. My only hope is that one day society will see beyond the lines of religion, race, disability, sexuality and gender, and just see other human beings here for the same purpose. To live.

Dreaming Darkness

I could feel myself floating in what must have been air around me as I spun like the deformed wheel of a bicycle grasping for the hope of earth around me. Suspended in what I could only think to be a black cave void of gravity for I could not see an inch in front of my face. There was no wind on my skin as I turned in turmoil grasping for anything solid surrounding me. There was nothing there.

I could feel an unknown weight on my chest that must have been the force behind my spinning, as I could not seem to stop myself. I could feel the tips of my fingers trying to peel themselves off in effort to reach just a little bit further, hoping and praying for something – anything – to grab hold of.

Suddenly aware of the vulnerability of my torso I tried to pull my legs to my chest but I lacked the strength necessary. My legs were being held stretched out just like my hands by the same force pressing on my chest.

I could hear the voices telling me what to do but I didn’t trust the invisible source they were coming from. I tried to speak but my lips would not move. My eyes were open – at least they felt open – and I couldn’t see a thing.

Fear. For the first time in years, complete fear overcame me. I remember thinking things. Wanting to speak them. The voice seemed to respond to my thoughts of mistrust. “What choice do you have?” She said. In a moment of strength and courage I thought in reply, ‘I can spin forever!’

The spinning got worse. My stomach was sick but unable to vomit. The blackness turned darker and suddenly…I stopped. I was dropped and just started falling. I still couldn’t see but the feeling in my stomach was less spinning and more falling. I could tell I was falling fast.

Dreading the impact which was certain to follow I tried to scream. My thoughts screamed for help. Again the voice told me what I needed to do. I simply didn’t trust the mouth I could not see.

I had been spinning and falling for hours and must have been on the verge of death. I was slowly losing consciousness and thought. ‘Blacking out’, if you can even do that in already pitch black surroundings. The last thought that I had was, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Then I woke up.

The Small Things Overlooked

Yesterday I was driving a route I've taken more times than I can count feeling extra monotonous and I decided to place a phone call to break the boredom.  In a turn of good fortune, and quite possibly some fate,  the person I called didn't answer.

Again in my state of boredom I looked at the strip mall to the east and I noticed something different. There was this small Italian eatery called Bella Dolci occupying the corner lot.  I love Italian food, so I thought to myself, "Before the week is out I'll try that new place," then continued on my way down the road too frequently traveled.

Today, for lunch, Eric and I decided to travel to Bella Dolci.  It's not close to our work - a 20 minute drive - but he had noticed it as well and wanted to check it out.  As we walked in we were greeted by one of the owners, his wife and another employee.  

We were the only customers for the day so far and we got talking to the owner while we waited for our food to be prepared (I ordered the five cheese ravioli).  The first question he asked was, "Have you ever had gelato before?"  To which I replied, "Yes."  He inquired as to where and sounded a little suprised when I answered, "Italy."

He started to explain how they import the base from north eastern Italy but that the milk used in The States is quite different than the milk they use in Italy.  I was impressed to see a man who looked more like a professional snowboarder than someone that was well versed in Italian cuisine, know so much.

I felt prompted to ask how long they had been open and was astonished to hear that they would be celebrating their one year anniversary come the end of this month.  "Here, at this location?" I replied.  "Yeah, we had an amazing summer and fall," then they got a bitter taste of winter and recession to work through.

I was so suprised that I had never noticed this little shop before.  Since last March I must have driven that route over 200 times.  I've stopped at the pizza shop at least 50 times and, as much as I would like to deny it, tanning salon (not telling how many times) that are literally attached next door, yet I've never even noticed the existence of the Bella.

Often times in life we get so used to repeating our routines and 'stored procedures' that we tend to look past the simple joys that could come from the very things that we are so accustomed to doing that they almost seem obsolete. We get so caught up in the rush of the day or the next big event in our lives that we miss the small wonderful things that are staring us in the face.  Luckily for me, today, mine was only an amazing little Italian cafe.  I've only tasted the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their food, but my experience was so amazing that the only unfortunate thing about our stop, was that we had to get the food to-go.

For a Friend

I can feel your pain like barbed wire wrapped around my soul,
Though you’re not even close, each barb bleeds me dry.
Plunging the sting, deep, deep, deeper down,
I’m trying to swim but the pain’s making me sink, drown.

Your smile lies, trying to hide the dark behind your eyes,
The hurt and crying have dripped your eyes of glow.
Dropping me low, low, lower to the ground,
I can feel that you’re lost and wishing to be seen, found.

Your laughter muffles as it tries to float, catch wind and soar,
Though days between hopeful hints, I still hear its pain.
Hushing me far, far, even farther away,
I hear a whisper of need, asking me to stop, stay.

I’m reaching out, stretching as far as I possibly can,
My arms are not solid enough on their own.
Grasping out, out, but right through,
I cannot grab hold if you refuse to grab hold, too.

You’re not missing or overlooking anything in life,
Come up, and you’ll see, everything is worth living.
Climb up, up, higher up and stand,
You’ll be safe, I can promise, hold on to me, my hand.

Aut Viam inveniam aut faciam

My dreams are becoming more and more vivid each time I remember them.

I was standing face to ‘face’ with a wall of mountain. It went straight up, and started to curve outward before going back up. My sight panned out and I could see the entirety of the wall before my body, like I was floating over it all.

I could see 360 degrees of this wall completely surrounding a large open field of nothing, with the exception of one large tree dead center: the beginning – of what, I wasn’t sure. I could see the path I had taken from the tree. It was a path that had been walked before. It led right up to the point at the wall and then stopped.

I followed it with my eyes back to the tree. There were others gathered around the tree and there were thousands of paths leading outward from the tree in many different directions, all meeting up with the wall. I could see people walking back to the tree in a seemingly blind fashion with their head hanging in sadness.

I turned my focus back to my body. I could see it below, standing completely still staring up the wall. I then focused on the top of the wall. I noticed something on the top. It flattened out and there was an amazing stretch of land on the top of this wall, green as could be and full of life, only, there were no people up there.

I wanted to be up there. I needed to be up there. I had to.

My sight focused back into my body. I was me again. I began immediately searching for a way up. The wall was perfectly smooth, like it was covered in a sheet of glass with nothing to grab onto. I walked completely around the wall, which took days. There was nothing.

There were a few scattered shovels on the ground around me. “Shovels won’t do any good to go up,” I thought. I walked by them for days, thinking nothing of them. “Shovels take you down, not up.”

I reached my original point of run-in with the wall and sat down, legs crossed, back against the wall. With my head pressed against the wall I began to lightly tap the back of my head to it in effort to think. I noticed that the wall was cold, and not as hard as it looked. I turned and tried to dig into the wall with my fingers, with no success.

I grabbed one of the smaller shovels lying on the ground and dug into the wall. It peeled away like hard clay. I stood to think for a moment, and watched the wall ‘grow’ back. I was astonished. It took a good ten minutes, but there it was, back to normal again. I grabbed two even smaller shovels and put them in my pockets incase.

“Up,” I thought. So I started to dig out little holes for my feet and my hands and began to climb. Holding on with one hand while digging out more holes with the other proved very difficult. I got about 15 feet up and fell to my back because I lost my balance. Some of the holes were beginning to close up so I had to start over.

I started to get as high as the clouds and the wall started to curve outward. Standing there with my foot in a hole and holding on, I pondered how to move further. It was curve enough that I would lose my balance and fall backwards, to my then certain death.

I felt pressure on my foot and looked down. The wall was reforming around my foot, trapping it. I quickly pulled it out and nearly fell. Gathering my balance and composure, I had an idea. I grabbed the two smaller shovels from my pocket and stuck them in the wall, without pulling them out. They seemed to hold just enough to rely on them for balance.

I cut foot holes, and pulled myself up the wall with the other shovels. This was very physically straining and I kept thinking, “One more, just one more, then you are there,” when, in fact, it was approximately 15 more.

Finally reaching the top I pulled myself up and laid on my back, panting, staring into the sky. I made it. Now I needed to find out what I had made it to…

Aut Viam inveniam aut faciam. I will either find a way or I will make one.

I am him, but I am not...

I dreamt again - no surprise there considering the events of the last few days. My father, as great a man that he is, has his weaknesses. They range from inner weaknesses such as the fear of not being able to support his family, to outer weaknesses such as his unwillingness to help others at the sacrifice of some of his own comforts.

Over the years of my life I’ve noticed that I have subconsciously adopted some of these character weaknesses. Some lay underneath, unnoticeable. Others I’ve forcefully pulled out like a weed and thrown to the fire, while still others I’ve noticed and am comfortable living with while I tackle more important ones. Priorities, my mother always told me, are the key to success. So I set priorities in ridding myself of weaknesses.

In the recent years I’ve discovered a weakness in my father that I never thought would be there. It’s one that I disagree with so much that I can’t imagine what would put a human being there, but at the same time I do not judge him. I simply worry for him – and for me. What if this weakness is something I’ve inherited from him, like the others? If so, it’s one that I’ll not notice possibly until it’s too late.

I dreamt that I was walking behind a figure of comfort. It wasn’t a human figure, just a figure that was moving in front of me as I walked, ran, jumped or swam. It was a figure that made me feel comfortable and safe as I followed its prints in the sand, snow or mud. I saw it fall many times, and a few of those times I fell along with it.

I started to realize that there were things the figure was doing that I didn’t want to do. As I changed my habits the figure got further off in the distance, yet I still followed its path. Then, out of nowhere, it was as close as it could be without touching me. It was completely still for a moment, then it disappeared altogether. There was something I had seen it do just before it got that close. Something I couldn’t quite make out, or understand. It was something that made no sense at all, but I felt this fear that I would follow in its footsteps.

As I looked down to my feet, feeling the urge to move forward with life, I noticed a trail that lead the same direction but it was just a few steps to the right, and the trail was much more clearly cut. I could hear my voice saying to myself, “straight forward as you’ve always done,” but my foot moved to the right. Then I woke up.

I realized after waking, that my fears should be comforted. I, in so many amazing ways, am my father. At the same time, in so many ways, I am not. I am me. I am my own destiny and I am predestined to do nothing except be me. I’ll either find a way, or make one, but my life will be mine to mirror that of no one else.

No Fear

No Fear. I wore those shirts in Jr. High all the time. They had fun little sayings on them like, "Second place is the first loser." It seemed normal to me to desire such things as living without fear in my life. I would do things for the rush of feeling fear and moving beyond it so as to conquer that fear. I took up sports like soccer and basketball because they were fun and healthy, while others such as snowboarding, and soon to be surfing, because they gave the rush of fear with the capacity to overcome it.

For a long time I lived in emotional fear. Worried constantly that I was going to end up alone or, worse, get hurt by someone I loved. For years this fear controlled me. In high school I decided to try and overcome this fear. I began asking girls out that I knew would say 'no' because they perceived themselves to better than me. Rejection became that rush of overcoming a fear. Most of the time it felt good. I thought I had conquered that fear.

Then one of them didn't say no. She said yes. That relationship controlled my life for a long time. Others followed and did the same thing, all because of my fear that I thought I had overcome. Realizing this fear was not yet absent and that the approach of meeting it head on would not work, I decided to attempt finding out what caused this fear in the first place.

Fear is a basic survival mechanism in response to a stimulus, such as pain or a threat of pain. While fears are generally believed to be learned the capacity to fear is innate. There are also studies showing that early humans that feared naturally threatening things, such as spiders or snakes, were more likely to survive as well as reproduce.

Everyone reading this probably knows I have arachnophobia. If you didn't, then you do now. I know what caused that fear. I remember it very well when I was young, but that's another story. I needed to remember when and where my fear started, but most importantly what caused it.

The cause is rather personal and most people would scoff it off as 'lame' or 'not traumatic' but for some reason it was there. It wasn't until very recently that I discovered the cause of my fear but I am glad that I have.

I do not want to live free of fear, because it seems very dangerous. I don't feel that I need to live free from fear, like my shirts of old tried to convince me, but rather that I need to learn to curve my fear. I need to use it to my advantage to avoid dangerous situations while still allowing the situations that are healthy to continue to occur in my life.

I used to write about living fear-free. I see now how silly that was and impossible, really, it would be to survive if I feared nothing. Now I must learn to live in - rather than under - control of my fears.

The girl with the eyes

I dreamt last night and I'm tired for it today. I went to dinner and a movie with a close friend of mine last night. We discussed many things from religion to culture, love and hate, and a lot about my unhealthy emotional habits. This is what lead to my dream.

I dreamt I was in the middle of a road with four lanes on each side and cars all around me. The road was the central street for a major city. I was confused at first by all the people walking by. Not a single one would acknowledge me - not even for a second. They could see me perfectly well. They were ignoring me and it was breaking my heart.

After a while there were a few people passing by that would give what seemed to be genuine interest in speaking with me, and I would latch on like a child. I followed a few people for great distances conversing about things that seemed to be quite fulfilling. I realized something wasn't quite right, so I bid them farewell and began searching for something else. I met a girl with whom I conversed with for quite some time. It seemed to be what I was looking for. It filled the emptiness I had inside. We walked together for a long distance and I started to realize that the conversation wasn't actually fulfilling though.

It wasn't that she wasn't sincere, because she was. It wasn't the subject of the conversation. I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. We stopped walking for a moment. It had started raining and there were puddles on the sidewalk. I could see my own reflection and it made me shudder. I wasn't happy looking at myself. I could see so many things I wanted to fix. I wasn't even really sure who the face in the reflection of the puddle was. Hard as it was, I had to bid her farewell. She began walking away - slowly - as I stood there and stared.

I looked around and didn't recognize anything. I wasn't sure where I was at. There was only one thing that was certain - I was alone. Completely. I walked the streets in the rain, in the dark, until I came to a familiar corner. I started to run in the direction of familiarity, hoping to find someone I knew. I found no one.

I started to grow fond of the feelings of alone. I found things in myself that I liked as well as things that I loved. I began to convince myself that I could go it alone. That I would be fine - happy even. Deciding so, I stood up and started to walk home. It was the first time in the dream that 'home' was even a concept.

As I turned around a corner there was someone walking towards me. I could see her in the distance, far ahead. We kept walking until we became close enough to see each other's faces. I knew her. I stopped. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. Blank. Her eyes...

Then I woke up. Go figure.

Why can't one marry for love?

Help me protect the sanctity of marriage. Please. I’m begging you. I’m not asking to protect it in the way that the major religions of the world are. I’m asking that you protect its actual sanctity in accordance with the history of the tradition of matrimony.

When marriage first came about in the pre-Christian era it had nothing to do with religion, or state for that matter. It was a verbal agreement entered upon by two parties to live together for life - no priest or witness was required. It was completely personal and private and same sex marriages were allowed. It wasn’t until the Christian emperors Constantius and Constans wrote the Theodosian code 9.8.3 in the year 342 that marriage between two partners of the same sex became illegal.
You didn’t start seeing state recognition of marriages until the early modern period in history (usually used in reference to the 1500-1800 A.D. time period). This is the time period that you can see the church and state starting to align with their requirements to constitute a marriage.

Today we live in a country that believes in the separation of church and state. It’s the reason this country was founded. It’s the reason the founders left their homeland. They were searching for the right to worship in whichever way they pleased. The Constitution of the United States of America protects that right and prohibits the government from passing any laws that force a citizen to believe any certain faith or religious belief.

Our government recognizes marriage and allows certain tax benefits as well as insurance benefits along with it. This is perfectly acceptable and has been the case for many governments throughout history since state recognition of marriage came about. Many of the governments in history prohibited the marriage of same sex couples based on religious reasoning. The government we live under has rules set up to prevent that from happening, yet it is.

Here you have a tradition that was formed out of personal desire to commit that has been manipulated and transformed into a religious ceremony and now those religions are forcing their views into the laws pertaining to it while claiming to be protecting the sanctity of the very tradition they altered to begin with.
The parties trying to protect this forced sanctity of marriage claim that same-sex marriages will ruin the family and bring about more unstable homes. They also throw out the idea that soon we’ll be allowing people to marry and enter into sexual relationships with their animals.

First off, there are no scientific studies or psychological studies that show children are negatively impacted by being raised in a same-sex household. I will openly agree that children around the world are suffering from decaying families. Same-sex marriages have nothing to do with the decaying family, nor will they increase the amount of decay among the average family.

As I read over the ‘arguments’ – and I use that term loosely – in preparation for this post I started to realize that each argument I read was completely based on religious views and that the people making them aren’t even trying to hide it. One of the arguments I found on an anti-same-sex marriage website was as follows:

Perhaps most important, the spread of the Gospel of Jesus Christ will be severely curtailed. The family has been God's primary vehicle for evangelism since the beginning.

Another reads:

Courts will not be able to favor a traditional family involving one man and one woman over a homosexual couple in matters of adoption. Children will be placed in homes with parents representing only one sex on an equal basis with those having a mom and a dad.

I was completely astonished by that last one. As I read it I thought to myself, “Wait, that is exactly what I want - Equality among people applying to be adoptive parents, equality everywhere for that matter.” How can you blatantly say that you are against equality in a nation based on equal treatment and justice? Even the argument for the decay of families references the bible. How can you use religious arguments to try and impose a law in a country that says, ‘we will maintain complete separation of church and state?’

If a religion chooses not to recognize a same-sex marriage because they believe it to be immoral and wrong in the eyes of the God that they worship then they have the right to do so. If they want to condemn people to hell and warn them of the evil things to come, that is their prerogative. I completely support the right of religious groups to approve or deny whichever marriages they choose to based on their beliefs even if I do not believe the same things they do. The role of our government, according to our Constitution, is to ensure that equality and justice are served. Banning a certain group from marriage is not equality. Banning the same group for religious reasons is not separation of church and state.

I don't vote because...

I don’t vote because of the views of the candidates presented to me. I’ve read the reviews and watched the debates and I’ve yet to hear something that says to me, “That guy is the guy,” or this year, “that girl is the girl.” I hear questions asked and the answers given rarely have to do with the question at hand. Instead, they divert to personal attacks and round-about ways of answering the questions without actually picking a side.

The art of politics so closely resembles the art of marketing that it makes me ill. In marketing you can tell all the lies that you want so long as you include a little disclaimer at the bottom of the screen or at the end of the message that says something to the effect of, ‘none of the things said in this ad are actually true.’ The same seems to go for politicians. Negative and derogatory ads combined with slashing remarks at debates all go excused so long as they either apologize publically for ‘crossing the line’ or say “It’s nice to see you again,,” and pretend that nothing happened.

I don’t vote because of the voting record held by the candidates in which I have the option of voting for. I spent hours searching through the voting records of the candidates presented for this upcoming election. Hours went by, and I found that I can’t trust either candidate’s voting history. Each candidate has voted in the past in ways that lead me to believe that they are lying about their intentions for this country’s future and each has also voted in ways that contradict the vote they may have made the day before.

I could go on all day if I were to get into specifics in reference to their seemingly constantly contradicting voting records, so I’ll leave it at this; neither candidate has maintained a constant voting record on any of the major issues presented before them, namely, the economy, ethical issues such as abortion and homosexual marriages or foreign policy. I generally follow the Latin proverb, “Acto Non Verba,” which translated means, “Action, not words.” There is one problem with trying to follow that proverb in this situation – the candidate’s actions are contradictory so often that it is difficult to determine which to believe.

I don’t vote because of the ethical code that candidates seem to project. Whether you are pro choice, pro life or pro ‘I don’t care’ there is never really a clear candidate who supports your moral or ethical values. They seem afraid to take a stance and say, “This is what I believe to be right.” Whether you think religion ought to be considered or completely disregarded in choosing a candidate, it is seldom clear which party would offer what you support. Religion comes up in every election and each party pointing the finger at the other is guilty of exactly the same things in which they are pointing the finger about.

Every candidate that has ever been presented to the American public has lied, does lie and will lie (unless their deceased) when it comes to their political views. Sad as it may seem, and as much as I wish it weren’t true, it is. It’s a necessity of the game in Washington...DC that is. All of these things that make me question their ethics, then you add on the flip flop voting, the hidden agendas in the laws and policies voted on and the refusals to vote on certain bills in effort to maintain neutrality – it all just seems like a constant effort to keep everyone happy while ignoring what they really stand for.

I don’t vote because of the party ties held by the candidates taking seat on the ballot. The bipartisan system set up is one of our political systems biggest downfalls. It’s not bad in theory but what happens as a result of parties opposing parties is; you get individuals voting against something simply based on the principle that the opposing party voted the other way. It seems silly but it happens all too often.

I’ve heard those arguments that say it doesn’t happen, but it happens at the citizen level of voting too. People vote for or against a candidate based solely on the fact that he/she belongs to a certain political party. How naïve a thing to do, rather than trying your hardest to get the facts and make a knowledgeable decision, futile as it may seem. What makes congressional, senatorial or presidential candidates any less likely to follow the same pattern? They aren’t. I believe the definition from Richard Summer bell’s, Abnormally Happy, “Right wing: As with the left wing, half the propulsive force of a flightless bird,” pinned the tack into the wall.

I’m not saying I won’t vote. I will vote. I do vote. I’ll vote as long as I’m free to do so. I don’t vote because I have faith in either candidate. I vote because my ancestors, and the ancestors of my friends, risked everything they hold dear, including their lives, to earn and preserve this precious right that so many take for granted.

I vote because of them.

An Old Dream

An old dream


I ran across a dream I had written about on October 5, 2005. It's been three years since I've dreamt this yet reading it brought the images back in my head as if it had happened last night.

I was walking down a white and depressing road. It was covered with snow, and the trees arched across as if they were trying to make me feel closed up. While they kept out the things that might potentially harm me, they also prohibited my rescuers to be. The sun shined through ever so slightly, in a manner that I could barely see the yard in from of me. The cold at my feet was about six inches deep. How the snow got through the thickness of the trees to the amount of six inches deep I cannot know. It was as if the snow had just fallen, and it had come from underneath the trim line that rested about four feet above my head. Every few seconds or so, a light fluff of snow fell from the trees like someone had moved the branches above me. It fell just above me, all round me, and just behind me a yard or two. No sound was made, just simply the light falling snow, just enough to feel on my skin, as I was wearing no shirt.

How I lost my shirt, I cannot remember at this point. I simply walked for what seemed to be an hour. My stride was not normal. In fact, it was shortened quite a bit. My feet didn't even lift up above the snowline of the ground. I stopped for a minute, turned about ninety degrees. I looked back the way I had come from, and saw nothing more than the path in front of me. Darkness was surrounding me, with just enough light to know I existed. I stood there for a few moments, and I thought to myself about the experiences I have had in my life. They were nowhere around me. I could see nothing that resembled anything of my life.

As I continued on, my pace slowed even more. I looked up to the sound of a branch breaking from the brush above my head, just in time to see the large extension of the tree falling at me. Sudden and complete darkness surrounded me now. I couldn't see anything. My existence was terminated for the time. I could hear my brain speaking, but with whom was it having this conversation? A woman instantly flashed before my eyes, but I did not know her face. It was a clear depiction, but I was unfamiliar with her. "Travel faster my son, you are near there already."

Waking from this vision, I had a large lump on my head and a pounding in my back. Struggling to arise, I felt someone grab me from behind and lift me up to my feet. I was held there for a brief moment while I got my bearings, and as I whisked around, not a soul could be seen. The path behind me had become much more lit. I could see many of the things I had destroyed in life, and many of the things I had built up. I could also see multiple sets of tracks following close behind mine, as well as right beside mine. I looked forward down the path I have not yet traveled, and there was but one set of tracks. Someone had gone down this road before me.

I continued walking, with a much quicker pace. My feet were not as cold as they spent less time in the snow. I could see what was in front of me, and I was gracious to be able to run. Then, quicker than lightning could strike, it was pitch black again. I stopped on what could have been a dime, but I slipped on the shallower, but wetter version of the snow blanket on the ground. I laid there for a lifetime, but only for a minute. I felt the hands that I knew grab onto mine, and arms that I recognized wrap around my waist. They seemed to be struggling to lift my body, and I was unable to hold my own weight and help them. The struggle went on for some time, while they gradually got me back to my feet. In the darkness I felt them, there were more than two. I could not see them at all, but I could feel them around me. One of them handed me my shirt. I heard nothing. While putting it on I had a flashback of how I lost it. It was a trial in my life that I had not yet overcome. As I pulled the shirt over my head, I felt relieved at the pain I had been caused during that time in my life. I felt whole, where that part was missing.

I heard a very familiar voice whisper in my ear. "Follow me. I will not let you fall. Stay with me, I will not let you wander. Hold my hands and you will never be led astray." The voice was so familiar, but I could not think of the name to whom it belonged. I was comforted, even through the darkness that surrounded me. I heard another voice whisper from behind, and it was the sound of a female. Know her as I did, it had been a long time since I heard her voice. "Trust him and you will feel endless joy, and your journey will seem short, and less full of trials."

Holding their hands, and feeling others surround me, I walked down the path that I could not see. A few times I stumbled, but I never hit the ground. There was always someone to catch my arm as I reached out to grasp the ground before my face hit it. Always someone to catch me from behind and realign my footing before I moved on.

By the end of the dream, I had not reached the end of my path. I asked those around me to let me rest. I laid my head down, the snow was gone. The feeling of freshly cut grass softened my head as I rested. I drifted into a sleep that I have never felt. In my dream, I had a dream. I saw all the faces that had been helping me along. Many of them I knew, some of them I did not. From family to friends and even strangers. I felt I owed them so much.

I shouted out aloud, for all them to hear, the best thank you I could muster. I heard one of them say, "We have all walked this path, and our paths crossed yours at many times, and you did the same for us. Your debt is none, and ours is equal. When you are in need, we will be by your side, and when we are in need, we will call out your name."

I have very vivid dreams and have since highschool. Most of them pertain to things either going on in my life currently, or things to come. This dream, at the time, helped point out the appeciation I had been feeling in my heart for all of those close to me.

Numb for Now

I'm numb, numb to so many things. When I say I'm numb I don't mean things hurt less than they did before, I mean that they do not hurt at all. My heart has built up an impermeable layer of protection. It didn't happen overnight and it didn't happen without a struggle. At the same time, it didn't happen within the grasp of my awareness either.

I've worked police dispatch and 9-1-1 for nearly three years now and heard things that even movies do not bother showing. I've spoken to people uttering their last words, some of them knew it and some them were completely unaware of the fact that the words the spoke to me would be their last. I've spoken to mothers in desperation trying to breathe life back into the lungs of their child. I've done this more times than I care to remember. I've heard and witnessed things that make one question whether or not there is goodness left in the world and each time my heart became less capable of being touched in any way, good or bad.

Through all of these life changing events I've also had the opportunity to witness miracles of life and survival. I've walked fathers through the birthing of their children. I've helped complete strangers through the same thing and heard the joy in their voices as help arrives on scene. I've heard mothers call to report the lost life of their child and I've heard them call in complete and utter joy having found their missing child that they feared dead. I've had to hold back tears of joy and sadness through these experiences enabling me to be the strong voice on the other end while speaking with an individual in panic or excitement in effort to aid the best outcome possible for any situation. Each time my heart lost a little more vulnerability of being harmed.

My life has been full of relationships that have hurt me as well as others involved. I do not pretend to have been perfect and realize the incorrect decisions I have made. Each of these relationships has taught me very specific things about me that I have needed to learn and therefore I do not regret them. I've spent hours sobbing over the loss of loved ones, be it in life or just in my life. I spent two months wondering each day if I would be able to see my children and each day being let down. I now know the reason behind the actions but at the time it wouldn't have mattered to know. My heart has been torn into such small fragments over my children that, at times, it seemed I would never be able to put it back together again. Each time, again, my heart lost a little more vulnerability of being harmed.

I love. My heart loves. I would give anything and sacrifice everything for my children, friends and family. My heart is not incapable of feeling, just immune to being harmed. I've learned something through all of these events and it may make me seem quite cold at times. I can assure you that I am not cold in any way. I care, love, and show compassion now more than I ever have in my life, I've just built up immunity to being let down and to letting my falls hurt me. Life is worth too much to live through pain. Pain, the emotional kind, is a choice in the same way that fun is. Everything is in ones attitude and perception of circumstances.

It's not that my heart can't hurt, it just doesn't. There is a film around it that consists of the ability to step back and see the bigger picture that allows it to turn another. Like a vaccine to illness, my heart has built up a layer of protection that will not be penetrated.

Won't Back Down

My dreams seem like they have been getting more and more intense over the last few months. Last night’s was one of the most vivid I’ve ever had.

I was standing in the middle of a desert, rolling hills of sand and dust surrounding me. I could see a structure off in the distance, but only for a few seconds at a time since the sand was being carried by the wind like a wall in front of me. It would pound against my clothing like countless little shards of glass slowly sand blasting my cloth barrier to shreds.

I was progressing as quickly as possible in the direction of what I could now make out to be a large group of burning buildings ahead. I could feel the sting of scorpions at my feet every so often, and scraping of sand in my wounds with each step I took. I started to lose tiny bits of my clothing as I moved forward, having to lean into the wind to keep from falling over.

My pack had fallen off about a hundred yards before I reached the buildings. They were surrounded by an extremely tall black steel gate. Most of the gate was so hot from the flames that it was nearly bending under its own weight, but at the bottom you could tell that its original color was indeed black. The gate was closed and the handle looked like it was made from slightly cooled liquid steel.

I looked up, through the cloth that I had picked from my shirt and placed around my face. The cloth served two purposes: to stop further pain and hold off the bleeding. I couldn’t see the tops of the buildings through the hurricane of sand around them. There were people inside the gates, some looking for a way out, some just wandering around trying to find a place to hide; one that wasn’t burning.

I didn’t know what it was I was searching for but I knew it was inside those gates. I knew it was important. I knew it was my life if I couldn’t find it. I looked down to asses my condition. By this time more than half of my shirt was missing, my pants were starting to show my ankles and my feet were bare. The part of my chest that was showing was glistening red when the sun had a moment to spy through the spiraling wind storm around me. My stomach was still covered but had a light layer of dried blood from the shallow wounds on my chest.

Condition aside, I had no choice but to enter the burning gates. I lifted my head slowly and took a few steps toward the gates. I reached my hands out and grabbed the scolding metal handles. Smoke rose from my palms as I grabbed tightly and tried to pull. It wouldn’t move at all. I heard a voice that seemed to come from no one say, “You will not enter.” I thought to myself, “Yes I will. I must.” The voice must have heard my thoughts. “If you do, you will not succeed and you will not leave.” I thought nothing. I simply reached out my hands to the handles on the gates and pulled again, this time with more vigor.

The gates opened with some resistance, but I kept pulling. I could hear myself screaming in my head from the pain on my hands and the tearing in my muscles but no noise escaped my mouth. I walked slowly through the wide open gates that I had thrown behind me with what felt like my last ounce of strength.

As I moved through the pathways between the buildings I noticed five buildings, in what seemed to be the center of the mess that formed a circle. There was a gap between each building that was about six feet wide and the buildings were completely engulfed in flames. The courtyard in the middle of the buildings was very large. If I had to guess I would say at least 300 feet in diameter. What I needed was in the middle of that courtyard. I could feel it drawing me there, though I had no idea what “it” actually was.

I started to walk towards one of the gaps between the buildings. I stood as close to the flames as my skin could bear. I couldn’t see another way in. I could see just beyond the flames every so often as the smoke would move from view and then back into it again. I saw a hazy image that I couldn’t quite make out. I forced my tired eyes to squint and focused on the spot in the smoke that I knew would disclose what was in the center of the courtyard once it moved.

As the smoke cleared I could barely make out children. They were my children. I panicked. I looked around searching harder to find a way in but there was no way in. I looked for something to cover myself in. I was sure that I could run through the flames with cover. It was only about 15 or 20 feet. I found nothing. I tried shouting for my children. They could hear me but were too frightened to move. I tried to inspire them with words, to beckon them to come to me. There was a pile of convenient wet clothing beside them that I knew would protect them if they could only run. There was nothing left to do.

Again, as I did at the gates, I looked down to visualize my wounds. I remember thinking to myself, “It doesn’t matter. “ I took off running as quickly as I could, muscles tearing and clothing burning. I burst through the other side of the buildings and collapsed to my knees, then rolled forward trying to put the flames on my clothes to rest.

When they were finally out I began crawling towards my kids, sobbing. They were staring at me, studying me, as if they saw something I didn’t. I got close enough to softly tell them, “I love you, I’m here,” and I reached out my hand to grab them.

My last living act was one I did not consciously perform. My last living act was dying trying to save my children. I remember thinking, while looking down on the scene from the air, “I didn’t save them. I failed.”

Seeing me lay there, lifeless, my children began to stand. As they stood, they aged. They grew into men. They wrapped themselves the best they could and started to walk in the direction that I had come, with even more determination than I had.

Dreaming of the Trains of Life

I was sitting on a bench in the middle of a train station waiting. Waiting. All I could think about was where she was while looking, frantically, for her everywhere around me. I tried to stand up a few times but couldn't seem to move my legs.

I was often accompanied in my seat by many passerby. Some of them saw me but some of them nearly sat on me as if I weren't even there, and some of those couldn't even hear my voice of warning as they were about to sit on me.

For a time it seemed like I was moving in slow motion. Either that or everyone around me was moving at a speed at least five times my own. I wondered what they were all doing. Why they were staying at the station for so long. Then many of them started to board a train. The only train I had seen in days. As everyone quickly loaded the train I struggled, trying to get up, but I couldn't.

I tried to jump. No success. I screamed but no words came out. I was now muted to everything around me and the only noise I could hear was my own voice in my head. I waved my arms and they seemed like they were moving to me but no one else could see them moving. Or they ignored them. Either way I was alone.

Then she showed up. I was mortified because she was moving as fast as everyone else was. She walked around in a panic looking for someone. She walked over to me, sat down and hung her head, staring at the ground. I put my arm around her as if to comfort her and she got startled. She looked directly at me, and right through me.

I was touching her, I could feel it. I knew she could feel it because it made her jump, but she couldn't see me. I put all of my focus on making her see me, and she must have. She started to speak to me. At least I think it was to me, but I couldn't hear her words. I could read her lips. What I read made me start to weep. I wanted her to be able to hear me. See me. Feel me. Take me with her.

She stood up and took one step then turned around. She mouthed three words followed by two more. I knew she meant it. I knew she was sorry but as she walked away I couldn't think of anything else besides chasing her. I tried. I ran in my head so fast that the people around me weren't even moving anymore, but my body wouldn't move.

She was the last to board the train, after standing by the steps to the door for nearly an hour, staring at my bench. I envied the bench for an hour. I was even glad to be sitting on the bench that she was staring at. The door closed, and she vanished...forever.

I laid my head in my hands and tried to cry, but I was dry. My heart was soaking up everything else in my body just to stay beating. I knew that I was completely alone in the train station, no longer waiting.

Trains came and went. Not a soul got on or off. The trains didn't even stop.

I heard a noise, one other than my own voice, at the stairs to my right. I looked up. I stared. There was a woman standing at the top of the stairs that lead in from the street. Just as I saw her a train pulled in and stopped. It must be her train, I thought. Must be.

People started to unload from the train at the same rate of speed as the people boarding the first train. My eyes stayed fixed on the woman at the top of the stairs. She moved. I saw it, slowly, she moved towards me. I could hear her footsteps on the metal stairs as she descended. I could hear the wind blowing through her hair and her clothes brushing against each other as she floated toward me.

She seemed to move through everyone just as they were moving through me. She stopped not two feet from me and reach out her hand. I stared for a few moments not sure what to do. She just stood there holding out her hand. I reached up. I grasped it in mine and stood. I could stand. She let go of my hand and to my suprise I didn't fall. She lead me to the gates of the train and we boarded.

My eyes never left hers, and hers never left mine.

I've walked a mile in their shoes...

I woke from my sleep late last night fumbling for my clock to see how late for work I was. I finally found my phone and realized it had hardly been 45 minutes since the last time I looked at the clock before trying to fall asleep. As I laid my head back down trying to rid myself of the panic in my heart I realized that my heart was pounding even more relentlessly.

I was pondering the truly terrifying events that took place in my thoughts just before waking up. I was walking down a forest hallway. One I’ve seen before many times in my dreams; one that completely surrounds me with but a few feet of damp oxygen on each side and sometimes no more than a few inches of clearance above my head. I stopped walking for a moment to look backwards. It seemed odd in my dream that while directly in front of me and around me was complete darkness, directly behind me was as bright as day like I was standing at the entrance to a deep cave whose shadow engulfed me but I could see just outside; one that I’ve interpreted as the path of my life.

I could see so far behind me that I saw an image of myself as a child playing soccer with my dad. I wasn’t wearing any shoes. The thought in my head was, “Why am I playing soccer without any shoes.” This thought seemed odd to me at the time, but revealed its significance in later events.
I looked down at my own feet now, and realized I had shoes on. I didn’t like them. They seemed awkward and out of place. I shrugged and kept walking through the darkness, hoping that I didn’t run into any low hanging branches or tree stumps. I heard voices and carried out conversations with them. I saw faces and remember falling in love with some of them. Images flashed through my mind in the darkness of the events that I remember in the life I have had outside of this dream. The only recurring thought that I could make out was, “My shoes are hurting my feet.”

I stopped for a moment to feel the ground around me and it felt like soft grass. The kind that you get after you mow the lawn early in the morning with the morning dew still left and the green dye rubs into your skin as you walk across it barefoot. “Barefoot,” I thought. That sounds sort of nice. I tried to adjust my shoes to make them fit more comfortably. I couldn’t seem to get them just right. I’d walk a distance and then adjust, repeating these steps over and over trying to find the right fit. Never once did the thought cross my mind to just take them off. It was almost like something had been embedded inside me that made my mind stay away from those thoughts.

I kept walking and adjusting for a while in my dream, still experiencing the things I’ve gone through in my life. Then I started experiencing things I have no recollection of happening. Things that I know are not in my past. Things that I know have never happened. Then, out of nowhere, I tripped on the root of a tree. I fell forward and landed chest down barely saving my face from tasting the dirt that broke my fall. I laid there for a moment…completely still.

As I looked up, I could see a short distance in front of me. This was new. I could see a pair of shoes lying on the ground. They weren’t just tossed there like someone had discarded them. No, instead, they were laying there like they had been placed there for me by someone that knew I would trip on that root (which turned out to be the smaller than the ones surrounding it, but somehow it caught my toes while I glided around over and through the others).

I pulled myself up and without brushing myself off I walked towards the shoes. They didn’t look anything special but I could tell that they had special meaning. I picked them up off the ground and they felt heavy. It took a lot of strength to pull them from the ground. While I was lifting them I remember the thought of Arthur pulling the sword from the stone. Not that it was that difficult for me, but it had the same significance.

I looking inside the shoe, underneath the laces and noticed a spot labeled, “Name:” with a line next to it. I tried to read the name but I blinked. It was like I wasn’t ready to see it yet. I set the shoes down close by my side so as not to lose them. I then sat down on a nearby stump and started to unlace the shoes I was wearing. It was as if the fall had knocked lose some thoughts and ideas that had been forming and hiding in the back of my mind, waiting for something to set them free.

I then began to put the other shoes on but first I looked at the spot for the name again. It clearly said my name in dark, bold lettering. I hesitated for a moment, finding this odd, and set the shoes back down. I lifted the tongue of my old shoe and peered inside. The same spot for name existed, only this one was completely blank. Then I woke.

I feel like I’ve walked my entire life in someone else’s shoes. Not the shoes of someone else I know, or even someone else I can imagine. I just feel like I’ve been in the shoes of someone that is most certainly not me.

My Heart: The Black Whole

I believe that in the universe there is an energy that flows from each of us like water in a stream. I think that some of the actions we take part in each day, as well as ones taken against us, can cause our flow of energy to halt like we’ve put up a dam while other actions can cause our floodgates to open allowing our light to flow into others.

We need this energy to survive. We crave it always and like the thirst of attention found in a small child it can be fed from many different sources. It can be satisfied through the foods we eat as well as the water we drink. It can be fulfilled through the people we interact with whether we love or hate them.

I’ve been wandering through my life lost in a dark cave, absorbing the energy of others because I’ve been unable to find my own. My heart feels empty and black, thirsting for life, pounding in my chest as if it were screaming for something.

It’s apparent in every decision I’ve ever made in my life. I “fall in love” so quickly because I crave the attention and energy that the other person has to offer. I rush into serious relationships and never take time to just be alive and live as me. I can’t decide what exactly I want to do in life because I haven’t found that one thing that will help me feel more fulfilled. I search and search with no success. I pick up hobbies and jobs that seem to be the answer but then I realize I’m not as happy as I thought I would be.

This has been a pattern in my life since I can remember. Most likely since I was born. I don’t know how to place where it started exactly or why. I don’t know if I will ever be able to. It’s pointless for now. What I need to find is how to fix it. How to live as me and be happy as well as fulfilled as just me so that I can be happy and fulfilled with someone else if that is what I choose.

This would be an impossible task being attached to someone whom I have deep feelings of love for. I would always be leeching off of her energy, never finding a true source of my own to fill the void in my chest. Even if I did by some lucky chance find my own source my mind would never believe it, or be able to fully accept it. I would forever second guess my newfound happiness and energy. I would forever wonder if what I am feeling truly was just me or if I was actually just keeping warm from the heat of someone else’s fire.

My heart has been soaking up the energy of those around me and those close to me for so long. I need to find a way to trump my longing and put a stop to my yearning. I cannot be with someone and expect this to truly happen so I’ll have to say goodbye. I’ll have to wave my hand, still loving and wishing, but walking away…backwards…alone. Then my black hole can consume me, rather than those around me.

Done Running

I'm running as hard as I can but going nowhere. I'm not standing still like those letting the moving sidewalk of life take them where it pleases. I'm running as quickly as possible. My limbs are moving, seemingly like branches with the wind, but like a tree I'm rooted to the ground on which I stand.

My progression isn't slowing, for I have none to slow. I've been running like this for some time, how long I'll probably never know. Looking back can't slow me down nor will it speed me up. Running is wearing me down but my spirit keeps on going. My muscles torn, my tendons ripped, my joints aching.

I'm thirsty now but there is no substance to quench my desires.

I'm hungry now but there is no food to give me strength.

I'm running. It's not like running on a treadmill, where the running is done for you. I'm actually running. I'm trying. I'm panting. Can't breathe. Can't stop. Can't run...anymore.

I stop running. I walk backwards. I trip and fall to the ground. Laying face up to the sky I see that I'm moving. Laying still, I'm moving. Have I been moving all along?