In the absence of putting pencil to paper, I am putting thoughts to audio.
TOL July 21, 2018:
Just what is deception?
Thinking Out Loud (TOL) June 28, 2018:
What Is Wrong With Society? People.
not just the hits
In the absence of putting pencil to paper, I am putting thoughts to audio.
TOL July 21, 2018:
Just what is deception?
Thinking Out Loud (TOL) June 28, 2018:
What Is Wrong With Society? People.
Typed Text From Journal Page:
I was wondering what I look like to you two from where you see. I see myself aging, sagging south, losing hair, “fighting” the midriff bulge that appears at thirty-something, somehow trying to convince myself I can slow the process down. For perspective on when today is, tomorrow is your end-of-year performance at RenArts, your first one, graduation for South Pas is on Thursday, and Emma you’ve yet to decide what is best for Emma with regards to going to see the “girls”. We continue to work through, working through. Emma-trying to better prepare for your high stress moments and your stressed stress moments, and your stressed moments. It seems like there is always something, but I worry you will always be too stressed to handle “it” with a level head. Brandon, I worry you will always pretend you are cooler and more in control, when in fact you are so similar to Emma. You two need to balance each other out. Well, back to me. Brandon, I know you notice me aging, and I hope I am not disappointing you. I know you want me to keep up in Karate, but is it because you “expect more” as you say, or is it that you are uncomfortable with me not keeping up – too much a reminder that I am aging? Em, I don’t think you even notice. You don’t pay attention to very much of my “stuff”, and I hope you don’t wake up someday and realize I am old, decrepit, and senile and you don’t remember me any other way. Worse would be you feeling that you missed out. I hope that never happens. Nevertheless, I do wonder how the two of you see me now, and will see me in my winter. I hope you know, by the time you read these pages, that my every moment was lived and thought with you in mind. I am trying to keep myself fitter than say five or even ten years ago – but I am beginning to feel my age. I am young, but an old thirty-eight. It almost surprises me that I am my age. It somehow crept up on me. In two years I’ll be forty, and I wish to celebrate with a healthy mind and body. I wish I could live for as long as you will need me, but I’ll have to settle for as long as I will – and hope I can make that a long while. I pray for us every night and everyday. I’ll pray for you forever. I love you both – Mom
Typed Text From Journal Page:
My Lives
It has been a long week and it certainly was a long day. You both had your presentations today and you performed with flying colors. Your teachers are all incredibly pleased with you all/both, and I am excited for you. Em, I have shared with you that I think, after all that has happened, that you are afraid of success. The more I watch and listen the stronger this impression becomes. I cannot help but begin yet on a new mission to help guide you through if in fact we find this to be true. It is my new theory given the fact that on the one hand you show growth, express excitement, share new learning, glow over but yet you claim unhappiness with no known source and a desire to leave. I can’t help to wonder if you want to escape all the positive growth because you are afraid to succeed. How do I help[?] Brandon, you are showing growth through leadership. You turned in your first job application, you are conducting for Maggie, leading boys dance teams, and hopefully, recognizing that you have gifts to share, you both do, and it should be a goal, a mission, to do that. Our purpose in life should be to leave where you’ve been a better place. Touch it with your gifts and leave your magic. I will leave you very little, but I hope it’s quality will last beyond a lifetime.
You guys are my world.
Mom
This day was a holiday. According to the journal entry, we didn’t do much and I felt it was a “taskless day”, lost without routine and something to keep us grounded.
Read on.
Love,
Mom
These we’re sort of my guides, my go to’s. The one not listed, didn’t need to be at the time because it was already a part of my mental constitution -Be a person of integrity, no matter how difficult.
Finally pulled out my “history bin”. You know, that little box in which you keep some of your past locked up – the past you won’t let go of and you refuse your husband permission to throw it out. The box that sits in the back corner of your closet shelf or the bottom of your closet behind everything else. Mine is a plastic bin and it holds “journals” filled with drunken rants, reaches at poetry and stories that someday wished to be told. The following is an undated entry written circa 1997, since that’s when some of the other entries were written.
I am not wrong
I look around me and question the actions which provoke me
The actions which provoke my thoughts of rebellion and disgust
Disgust with the way they manipulate peoples lives, peoples thoughts, peoples feelings
Feelings which are not wrong when they are from the heart
Feelings which are turned around by those who do not like to be seen through
I respect those people
For what they are is a product of what they have been through
But I cease the vicious circle which they are a part of
I will not let myself be pulled into that circle which surrounds the souls of the innocent and pretends to be their protector and enslaves them to a truth they do not know
A truth which is not existent in the world of the few
Only in the world of the many
They are made to believe what is inside this prison and made to evangelize that truth
A truth which many cannot see through
Only the few surviving
But they are constantly threatened by the deceivers of the circle
A circle I will not be a link to
I will not let the chains bind my soul
I am not wrong
I will continue to look through those which surround me and try to imprison me in their hold
telling me their truth
Their truths which are my lies
I will not be made to live inside their world
My world is small and few live within it
But we are not blind
We are strong
We see through their walls
We see through their circle
I am not wrong
I am not right
I have respect for those people
For that is all they know
Some day something will change
But for now – I am not wrong
Who am I?
In what do I believe?
What matters?
How do I find peace after all these years?
Sometimes, in order to find oneself, we have to shed the layers of others that we have taken on. It’s complicated. But not really.
Are we not the sum of all of our parts? And do our parts not included parts of others? How then, do we find who we really are – at our core?
When we’re born, we can be anything that we want to be – minus the limitations placed on us due to physical or mental handicaps. The remaining limitations are placed on us by those around us, our parents, our leaders and mentors, our society, our culture, our friends, lovers, spouses.
If we are lucky, we are either born with a strong spirit and a will and determination that drives us to achieve and be our best or we are fortunate enough to find someone that helps us see our ultimate potential and encourages us to strive. If we are not, look around and you’ll see much of what is wrong with society, any society – industrialized, civilized, uncivilized, first world, third world, “fake” world. We end up becoming what someone makes of us. Perhaps we become guerilla children in a nation fighting for “freedom from the oppressor”. We grow up believing that the other person is the enemy, no matter the color of his skin. Sometimes the color is the same. Perhaps we grow up hiding behind window shades and dark curtains afraid to look outside because someone told us that outside was dangerous. Or maybe, we find comfort in becoming. Becoming whatever someone wants us to be, until. What happens when that someone decides that our becoming isn’t enough? What happens when we wake up one day and discover that becoming isn’t enough? What then?
Where do we begin to piece ourselves together? What is ourself? One day you wake up you look in the mirror and you do not recognize the face that is looking back. Maybe you just find yourself crying for no dam reason. Maybe you automatically go through old routines only this time you don’t even remember that you went through the motions. You need to stop. Just stop. Stop and look back at that person in the mirror and stare. Stare into her eyes (or his) and take one minute to say, “hello”. Maybe, just maybe, take a moment to listen to the person that answers back. Who we were born, that majestic individual that rose from an egg and sperm, is in there. All you have to do is find her. But how? Take a minute. Take a minute and realize that part of the reason you don’t recognize who is looking back at you is because the skin you’re in is not yours. It’s whose ever skin it was you needed to be until you needed to find your own. And now, now you need to shed his skin.
Where to begin? Think back, as far back as you need to think to remember what you wanted to be when you were five or six. Think back to remember at whom you stared at because she was beautiful, amazing, awe inspiring. How did she dress? Classy, simple, ostentatious? What color was her hair? Did she style it? Did she wear it down? Was it short? Long? What color lipstick did she wear? Now, find the pieces of that awe inspiring person that fit you, and begin to replace the pieces you need to shed with parts of a new you. What next? Listen. Listen to the voice inside your head – it’s the universe talking. It’s saying, “the answer is right there, all you have to do is listen.” Steal moments to listen. Five minutes, ten minutes, thirty seconds. Silence the noise outside and listen. Sometimes silencing the noise means making louder noise or changing the noise or listening to noise that is slightly lower than the voice inside. How can you hear it? You’ll hear it. The moment isn’t working. Then try harder, force it. Finding yourself sometimes is like looking at a piece of wood or a ball of clay or a blank canvas and asking it, “what do you want to be? how shall I shape you?” And then, you sit back and you wait to be inspired. Or, you begin, with no idea, no clear picture in your mind. You just begin and slowly your piece of wood or your ball of lay or your blank canvas begin to take shape, and then, you see it. You see a familiar feature, a curvature that reminds you of something, you mix a color and another and another or it takes a life all its own and you allow it to go and see where it takes you.
How do you know what his skin and what’s yours? It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you can move comfortably in it and that when you look in the mirror you see more of what you recognize as you than you see of what you became for him. In each of those little pieces of skin from the past there were always pieces of you. That’s how you were able to survive. Those are the ones that will show you the way to yourself. You’ll never be completely rid of who you became. After all, it’s who you became. But you can be comfortable in the knowledge that you decided which parts to keep as your sum and which to discard.
Finding you is not about forgetting and being embarrassed of what once was. Instead, it’s about embracing, owning what once was, welcoming the new you and not being afraid to show it.
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