Seize the Day and Thoughts On Failure

Pardon me while I meander through a field of thoughts...

Sometimes we fail and it's our fault. Can we then acknowledge that we have been beset and seized by our own bindings. such shackles and mire may have to this point held us fast to our own mediocrity. Can we then to love our failure and forgive ourselves? We travel from such limitations through the pain and angst of emerging into our next level of personal liberty.

Today, we might become aware of personal limitations and thus of the fresh and vital opportunity that awaits us.

Carpe diem is often misquoted as "seize the day." a better rendering of it is to "gather the day." Gathering the day is both a reference to making order of the day(to gather it together) and harvesting the day. The implication is that all that we need is robustly present and waiting around us, a field of possibilities - or at least the next necessary possibility. It is therefore our destiny, our very calling to claim each day unto us. Such effort is most often the doing of simple routine, seemingly mundane tasks. Such  effort does, eventually, result in the very real manifestation of our dreams.

Just for today, may we renew ourselves and simply do the next right thing. Carpe diem!

The Gut of It - A Thought in Stanzas

Get to the gut of it, that tight, twisting, acidic scream of the belly
There you will find you and the you that longs to be more
Pain demands change...limits, contorts and defines

She always loved me, to a fault
When it hurt inside I could depend on her, her compliments, her advocacy, her mothering
The pain would always go, run out with laughter or perspective, or distraction

It's not her fault I could never love myself, to a fault

There is the gut of it
Loving oneself through the faults

Knowing You're Wrong May Be Very Right

Most of us will do anything to avoid being wrong. But what if we're wrong about that? "Wrongologist" Kathryn Schulz makes a compelling case for not just admitting but embracing our fallibility.

Ever Get Bored?

Once I understand, I get disinterested.

My mind races beneath the wonderful burden of new, intense information. I twist my thoughts around new ideas, run breathless through the virgin concepts and visions of new horizons. Paradise found. Dreams realized, hopes born anew, belief becomes faith and I know that this is the place, the existence that I have sought.

Then.

Novelty becomes familiar, fresh deeds routine, and the discipline (oh, the horror of that word) mundane. I long to dance among the cliffs, and cast my dreams once more upon the clouds. If not for the tenuous sanity that my program of spiritual growth and recovery affords me, I'd be off chasing sprites and fantasies deep in the realm of Hades, losing my sanity and my soul, again.

I must remember, as we all must, that desire without discipline leads to disappointment and disillusionment.  I will be vigilant and grow more serene, eventhough I scream to release passionate and perilous specters - for their time will come again, soon enough.

Recovery - A Poem About Personal Growth

Recovery 

It is so strange to look

One day

And find broken and rusted

Upon the floor

The shackles that once bound

Me

And I wonder

How long I have been holding

Myself prisoner

And I wonder

How long it has been since

I danced

Say It. Just say It.

The gift of a kind word is known by every human who but ponders the thought. Yet we too often withhold even the simplest of gentle utterances from those who deserve it. Why?

Today, I ask you to join me in speaking kindness to others. Thank someone. Compliment someone sincerely. Be kind in word, today. Say it. Just say it.

All in?

All Alone - A Poem About Solitude

All Alone

silence, worse still
the echoes of my own thoughts
voices cascading
endless cackling

senses strain to see
hear another here
amid the cavern of craving
infantile cries

then all certainty
more than breath
within the contractions of this case
another is with me

belief.

Gently Walking

Gently Walking

beads of perspiration mark trails down my temples

paths of the journey of necessity, vigilance

arms stretch outward to maintain balance

delicate steps along the precipice of doubt

pain

once more muscles constrict and release the rhythm

of a task that moves me ever forward

mental anguish and withered cravings scream

threats of rebellion and unwillingness

fear

while gentle wisps of liberated mist rise from the earth

once bound to soil and stone now free, rising

swirling forms of supportive hands caress my frame

lifting forever a small piece of life's weighty matter

relief

i stroll on

Digital Disengagement

Digital Disengagement

I'm confessing upfront that I don't know where this experiment will lead, but I do know that I must do it.

I have been spending too much time engaged with the Internet lately. Between my work (Digital Marketing Agency) and my personal 'play' in the realms of Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and Four Square, I have been constantly engaged with the digital world. I enjoy all of the connections that this interactive world allows. I have people who I know and value only via the web and others who share with me in the flesh-and-blood world and enhance that sharing via the virtual world. I enjoy the pace of interactions, the laughter, the positive massages and the extension of myself that Digital allows me.

My work involves some measure of interaction on the web, as well. Yet, when I really analyze my work-related time (and I have this week), very little other than email and research is critical to my goals vocationally.

I do enjoy the digital world and its constantly changing and ever teaching environment keeps me stimulated and growing, but I am paying a price.

Here's the rub. I've noticed some changes in my life - more my experience and enjoyment of life - that just won't do. I will not go into the details here, but will generalize my concern thus: I am not a natural child of the digital world and to continue to process and engage at such an intense and constant level is tiring and is changing the way I think, process and most importantly the way I care for myself.

So, here's my confession. I will be backing away from the Internet. If you are a regular reader here, you will likely not notice a difference in my blogging frequency. Blogging, as I practice it, is less about frantic, quick thought and more about thinking, writing, and creating. I'll not stop blogging. I am backing off of Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn in terms of frequency of interactions. The same is true with my non-work related email interactions.

I will be blocking time (some of the 86,400 seconds of every day) for non-digital engagement, and limiting my online time with a timer. My commitment is to the next 21 days. Already, this weekend as refreshed my spirit as I have only spent 3 hours online and left my iPhone sitting by itself for hours at a time. I have spent the newly reclaimed time: hiking, reading, listening (just sitting and listening) to music and song lyrics, playing with my dogs, and talking face-to-face with family and friends. I like it.

Wish me success.


Photo taken October 2008, Appalachian Trail Hike

The Puppet Man

The Puppet Man

pull the string, watch the dolls dance

blood runs from my finger tips

maybe this time it will change

calm my fears or ease my pain

see my marionettes take your stage

watch your laughter, feel your rage

safely sitting

program in hand

three cheers for the puppet man

pull the string, watch the dolls dance

blood runs from my finger tips

maybe this time it will change

calm my fears, ease my pain

i see your faces, swoons and frowns

watching fixed, puppet take puppet down

they're not real, you carefully remind

while i silently die standing behind

pull the string, watch the dolls dance

blood runs from my finger tips

maybe this time it will change

calm my fears, ease my pain

with human hate they dance for you

showing the worst the we can do

superb! delight! encore' you shout

so once more the toys come out

pull the string, watch the dolls dance

blood runs from my finger tips

maybe this time it will change

calm my fears, ease my pain

the lights are gone, empty isles now

i fall broken, wondering how

these hands will heal, gather strength again

so, you can watch through my gift, friend

pull the string, watch the dolls dance

blood runs from my finger tips

maybe this time it will change

calm my fears, ease my pain

see my marionettes take your stage

watch your laughter, feel your rage

safely sitting program in hand

three cheers for the puppet man

*note: i wrote this poem a few years back while struggling with managing the internal demands that i often felt from others' external behavior around me. i think as children we often take on the role of performing for the 'big' people in our world - and although maturity requires us to grow more autonomous, we many of us struggle well into adulthood to perform for others... it is only a problem when the price is our very health, peace and well being.

**Photo used by permission

Bound - A Poem about Moments of Self Doubt

bound

the knot tightens

the grip of self within self

constricting fists of self hate and loathing

mauling my soul

doubled over in pain

breathless from the impact

blows of fury born of hatred and distrust

disemboweling my being

healing hands, where are you?

gentle touch of truth, come

come, come

release me, untie me, free me

i am weary with waiting

The Greatest of Miracles

Much can be said for miracles. Read for a moment or two on blog topics like wholeness, cancer, poverty or economic struggle and you are sure to run across a ‘miracle story’ or two. Cancers are healed, injuries vanish, accidents are avoided, and consequences evaporate like a morning fog. We find ourselves in awe, even disbelief – amazed.

While all of these events are certainly worth noting and even celebrating, on occasion (like right now) I am reminded of what seems to me to be the greatest miracle of all. This is not a miracle of healing, financial success, physical triumph or an underdog victory. I would describe the greatest of miracles this way: that a person whose very soul is broken, twisted, ill worn and misshapen can - from the very core of their being, change and become someone of loving and graceful spirit.

Or, said another way – that God can transform a human heart.

It is a miracle I depend on, every day.

Not a Relief for Haiti Post

I am touched by the tragedy in Haiti and the outpouring of support to those affected. I must, however, take this moment and stand on a soap-box cause of my own.

The current death toll is reported at over 200,000 with 1.5 million rendered homeless. This is a tragic event, similar to the tsunami of 2004. I have and will continue to offer my financial contributions and prayers. I hope you will do the same.

My soap box is that in the United States alone, there are over 180,000 deaths annually due to alcohol and other drugs (not including drug and alcohol related traffic deaths). The estimate cost to Americans each year for illicit drug use and related crime is around $65 billion.[1] There is numbness to this astounding reality. We don’t hear pleas from the White House to text for support, or celebrities and emergency response groups banding together to raise awareness and funds. What is more, how quickly would we respond if the technology and expertise to prevent the earthquake in Haiti had been available? Yet, much is known – both medically and socially - about the causes and treatment for addiction and those affected by it.

So, my pitch is that we must find a way of raising our awareness and response to a killer that surpasses the tragedy in Haiti every single year in the USA. At this point I would recommend a charity, program or group for you to donate to or support, but other than local programs – I’ just not aware of one good source to fund or support. So, search your local charities and give of your money and your time.

-Steps off soap box-

We now return to our regularly scheduled blogging…

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[1] http://www.ncjrs.gov/ondcppubs/publications/policy/ndcs00/chap2_10.html