My Mind Wanders

I have a problem - an understatement if ever there was such a thing.  I am experiencing a crisis of faith.  Of hope.  And of love.  All that remain, and all called to question.  I'll spare you, my readers, the details that have rattled me so, suffice it to say that I find myself looking ever upon a person to set my mind at ease.  The tragedy here is that I know better.  I chase rabbits knowing that I could never catch one.  Not on my own.  I see enemies where I should see friends.  And I die when I should live.  They say the first step to recovering from a problem is admitting that you have one.  But they don't tell you that you're bound to stumble repeatedly along the way.  Believe me, friends, when I say that my body and soul are battered and bruised.  I have stumbled more than any man should stumble - any man, that is, who knows so well the better as I do.

I don't pretend to know where I'm going.  What I'm doing.  Not anymore.  How can any of us know when we are so fatally flawed by nature?  The comfort here is that we don't have to know.  Because He knows.  We need only to learn to have faith in Him.  And to let Him do what He does.  It's not an easy lesson, but it's one that I keep coming back to over and over again.  One I pray every day that I'll learn.  And God willing, that I'll learn before it's too late.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.  Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will; that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.  Amen."

Letting Go

For the last month, I've been fighting myself to relinquish control of my life and the circumstances that have brought me to where I am today.  I keep trying to let go of the wheel.  Over and over.  I even tell myself that, "This is it, I'm backing away.  Starting... now!" - and sometimes, I manage to do it.  I succeed.  But because I'm human.  Because of myself and what motivates me, I inevitably freak out and reach desperately for the wheel.  It never sticks.  I start fighting to regain control.  Over and over.  Again.  And again.  And again.

This week, however... something happened.  Through a series of seemingly random events or coincidences - whatever you want to call them - I was primed for and ultimately delivered a very important message.  A message that I might not have been ready to receive had it come at any other point in my life.  And I'm finding the more I think on it that this message was EXACTLY what I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it.  You see, instead of just letting go.  Instead of backing away.  Instead of giving up... what I need to work on is giving control over to Someone *hint* a little more capable than myself.  I can't 'fix' this.  Neither can a therapist, or a book, or an article, etc.  I need help.  And I've finally taken my first real step toward getting that help - by closing my eyes, bowing my head, and asking for it.

A friend asked me over dinner yesterday, "Where do all the desperate people go?"  If you want the answer to that question, ask me where I'll be Sunday morning.

Food for Thought

Imagine every day, you eat a piece of cake.  Magical cake, with all manner of mystical powers.  Each bite containing an ingredient makes you feel special.  Euphoric.  It boosts your confidence.  And even occasionally shows you glimpses of a glamorous, carefree future - filled only with happiness and excitement.  Now imagine that every time you eat a piece of that cake, it causes someone close to you - someone you care a great deal about - to feel a horrible, gut-wrenching pain.  Deep and agonizing.  The kind of pain that chisels away at the heart, mind, body, and soul.  Imagine also that you're well aware of the pain you're causing.  Yet every day, you eat a piece of cake.


Now, you have to make a decision.  And we've all been there.  Sometimes, making a decision can be difficult.  And when you're the one eating the cake - or smoking the cigarette, or having the drink, etc. - it can be very easy to put aside the heartache that you know your actions are causing.  Best intentions and all.  Because the cake is good!  However, I implore you - the next time you go to take a bite, please remember these five short, sweet little words: the cake is a lie.

Let's Build a Fire

 
I don't know how well my readers know me, but I'm a huge fan of the metaphor.  I like to use simple concepts and imagery to describe complex relationships and the inner-workings of the human mind.  For example: love is a battlefield.  Today, I thought of one that really helped me understand what marriage is all about.  You can't start a fire and expect it to burn forever... unless you're willing to stir things up once in awhile.  Toss another log on the heap now and again.  Also, why build a fire if you're not going to enjoy it?!

Such is a marriage.  And in essence, such is life.

If you're fortunate enough to find yourself currently basking in the warm, comforting glow of a committed relationship, take a minute to think about that.  Ask yourself, "Have I poked my fire today?" (go ahead, laugh).  Then, remind yourself to be careful the next time you do.  Because there's an art to it.  A certain skill - and sadly, this is another one of life's 'easy to learn/hard to master' lessons.  It is possible to stifle a fire.  Even smother it out completely.  [Editorial: If this happens, don't sweat it - you can always try to build a new one!]  Just bear in mind that the goal is to always build it up.  Make it burn bigger.  Brighter.  Hotter.  Longer.  Also, remember that no matter how small a fire may get... it still burns.  The flames could be a distant memory, and the smoldering ashes would still remember the heat like it never left.  And if you take care to add just the right amount of wood and stir things around in just the right way, you CAN get that fire going again!

Such is marriage.  And in essence, such is life.  Thank you for reading!

Look Good, Feel Good

 

Over the course of the past year, I've experienced a gradual depreciation in self confidence that came to a head when an avalanche nearly knocked me off the slopes at the first of the New Year.  I've been fighting exhaustively to keep stable footing - looking anywhere and everywhere I can to find ways to build myself back up - and in spite of the intense fatigue that lingers in my rear view, I'm finally beginning to move in the opposite direction.  Gaining ground and going up!

It's an amazing feeling.  Energizing.  Invigorating.  And while I can't say the adage to which I've dedicated this entry has everything to do with it, I can say that it has certainly played a vital role.  Lately, I've been going through my wardrobe and pulling out all the stuff I used to wear when I wanted to look awesome.  Fortunately enough, I recently lost about 15 lbs. - thanks to some significant changes in my diet, and enrollment in the CFJ5K program - which means lot of it fits about like it did 'back in the day' (quite a confidence booster in and of itself). I'm working on growing my hair out a little longer, too.  Trying my best to be creative in the meantime.  Styling it different ways.  Using different product.  And I know this doesn't exactly fit, but I've been squirting myself with cologne every day for a while now.  Look Good.  Feel Good.  Smell Good.

All of this probably sounds terribly superficial, but the proof is in the pudding.  I like who I see when I look in the mirror a little more every day.  And I think those closest to me are beginning to feel the impact of that change in reflection in a very positive way.  It may have started with the surface, but it runs much deeper.  The closer I get to looking the way I want to look, the closer I get to feeling the way I want to feel.  Acting the way I want to act.  That may sound backwards.  Maybe it is.  But take it or leave it... it's working for me.

I guess the ultimate reason I wanted to share this story today is twofold: 1) to let all my readers know that I'm doing much better [read: life is much better] since my last entry, and 2) to encourage any of you who may be looking for a way to reinvent or rediscover your sense of self to start with the outside and work your way in.  And let me know how it all works out!

Tom Petty

 

I can't decide whether or not I like Tom Petty.  He's certainly written a few songs I'd consider 'good'.  And in the 90's, he really made a splash.  But his voice can be a little grating.  His songs a little boring.  And I could be out of line in saying this, but here goes: he looks like he might smell a little weird in person.  With that out of the way, I feel I should tip my hat to the man - at least for tonight - for he wrote a line in one of his songs that reads as follows: "The waiting is the hardest part."  In that, he couldn't be more right!  *digress*

I've recently made some fairly significant changes in my life.  I've started running three days a week.  Eating better and dressing nicer.  Most recently, I've started looking very closely at improving my ability to operate in social situations.  Conversations.  Interpersonal relationships [read: marriage, esp.] - a total paradigm shift!  All in all, the changes I've made to date have produced favorable results - of both intrinsic and extrinsic value.  However, at the end of every day I can't help but feel that I'm still coming up short.  That's because the one person for whom I'm doing all of this - the person who alerted me to the presence of the mountain I referenced in yesterday's entry - needs to see that I can maintain these changes over a period of time.  That's where Tom Petty's immortal words of wisdom keep coming back to haunt me.  Waiting for this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  Much harder than making any one (or all) of these changes.  But I will press ever onward... in the key of G.

The Bluest of Clear Skies

Imagine you're flying an airplane.  Passing through a cloud (and I don't mean one of those piddly little 'looks-like-a-giraffe' type clouds either, but a miles-deep, vista spanning sea of a fuckin' cloud).  Looking back, you can't remember how it was you came to pass into the cloud, or how long it's been since you last had a lick of visibility.  The turbulence is so frequent and predictable that even the most jarring of bumps doesn't cause you to stir, and the amped up whirring of the plane's engine sounds a soothing lullaby to your pressure-popped ears.  Got it?  Good!  Now you know where I've been for the about the last 5 years...

That said, I have since emerged from the fluffy white mass... but only just in time to (potentially) avoid hitting the top of a mountain I should've seen coming.  And thank God, too.  Because if I hadn't realized that mountain was there, I'd have lost at least the better half of who I am.  But on the night before Christmas, I was given a gift.  A chance.  It may be my last, but it's all I can ask for at this point.  I know now: had I been flying just a little bit higher these past few years... trying just a little bit harder... I'd be sailing right over obstacles like this!  Above the fog and through the clearest and bluest of skies!  I know because I can now see beyond the mountain.  And for the first time in all my years, I can truly see beyond myself.  I just hope and pray that it's not too late for me to pull out of this one!