Faith can be defined as complete trust. Most of us have been taught from a young age that faith is a firm belief in something or someone where there is no proof of its existence. As with love, with faith there is no tangible evidence, nothing to hold or embrace, it simply exists in one’s heart and mind. One can have faith in many things; God, a religion, a friend or in oneself. When you have faith you act without question, timidity or doubt.
Faith is wonderfully extraordinary, ever changing, evolving, and constantly growing. Like a rose turning toward the sun for light, faith is beautiful to witness. It gives one hope when lost. At times one’s faith can be as strong as an ocean current. No matter the distance the current must travel, or the obstacles it might encounter, the current, like faith, never stops until its waves safely reach the shore. When one has faith, one can overcome any hardship, pain or heartache. Faith will always lead you home, where ever that may be.
Having faith does not mean one cannot question, be upset and seek answers. Even people with the most steadfast beliefs, have doubts. No matter how strongly we believe in our convictions it does not mean we have failed when we question our faith, question ourselves, and question God. It simply means we are human. I believe that is the principle purpose of prayer, to ask questions. Prayer helps us when we are lost, feel misunderstood or neglected and we need guidance. At times we all lose faith in our convictions, our friends, sadly ourselves and God. No matter how strong our belief, at one time or another we have all strayed from our faith and become for a time the ‘lost sheep’.
There are times in everyone’s life when we are filled with questions. When we surrender to self-pity, lose hope and stop praying. “How did I get to this point?” “How much more pain and disappointment can I handle?” “Why is everyone else’s life so much better than mine, when I have tried to be good?” “Why am I so poor?” “Why can’t I find a better job?” “Why can’t I find love?” “Why did I lose my son or daughter?” The questions are too numerous to list, but they are echoed a million times throughout the world. If one thinks about it, we are never alone in our questions, our pain and our sadness. We are all bonded through the trials of life. With faith, together, we can navigate through any hardship.
I have a friend who once stated they had never lost faith in God but only themselves. I explained how I believe they are one and the same. When you lose faith in yourself, you have lost faith in God. If you do not believe in yourself, then you have forgotten God has given each one of us everything we need to travel this journey we call life. All we need is who we are. I know this because there were times I lost sight of who I was. I stopped believing in myself. I allowed others to make me doubt my abilities, what I could handle, what I could survive, what I knew to be true. I let them define me instead of showing them who I was. At times, I let the pain in my life overwhelm me. I built a wall between myself and God. I forgot one of the first lessons I learned as a child; God will only give me what I can bear. I had to let go of my doubts and go back to the faith I had as a child. I needed to remind myself not to question so much what I had lost but be thankful for the wonderful gifts I had in my life. I was blessed; I had experienced a pain so immense from losing a love that was so honest. I finally understood not to curse the pain but be thankful for the love. I have to believe I suffered so someone who could not handle the pain would not. There was a purpose to my sorrow, one day I may discover it, or I may never understand why. I have to simply believe in me, in God.
Like a rose, faith must never be neglected; it must be nurtured if it is to grow strong and beautiful. Sadly, if left untended, faith can languish and wither away leaving what can only be described as an ugly scar on the soul. I once carried that wound. When one loses faith in oneself and in God, one can never truly be happy. Without faith it is impossible to let go of the pain and move forward. Faith helps you find the rainbow after a storm, the joy after the sorrow.
How do we help our faith grow? One way to nurture our faith is to surround ourselves with friends who believe in us even when we may not believe in ourselves. Like God, they help us find peace in the middle of the tempest. These friends accept us for who we are, not for who they would like us to be. They view our ‘scars’ as beautiful, part of what makes us unique. They love us as much for our imperfections as our virtues. They steadfastly stand by us, behind us and at times in front of us.
Like an athlete who works out constantly to become stronger, we must ‘practice’ our faith every day so it too will be stronger. With proper attention it will be able to withstand any opponent. We nourish our faith through prayer; by trying to see the good in everything, and giving help to those in need, be it with money, or time, or simple words of encouragement. By openly giving ourselves to another, sharing our faith, it evolves, grows within them and strengthens within us. Our faith becomes stronger when we do not hide from it, we openly celebrate it, when we stand firm in our beliefs. If a friend fails to ‘have your back’; to stand with you when someone questions your character, then are they truly a friend? The same is true with faith. If you are unwilling to stand up for your faith, to speak up for yourself, for God, then do you really have faith at all?
I believe to find faith; one must study your religion’s teachings. One must also look within oneself. I am different than most people; I do not believe one has to attend ‘church’ to be one of the faithful. I have met many people who regularly attend Sunday service, who say they are ‘Christian’ but their actions demonstrate otherwise. Words do not prove our faith, our lives do. Faith can only be measured as true by God not by man.
I began this essay by saying we are taught that faith is intangible; it is a belief in someone or something that is not based upon proof. I have seen otherwise. I witness the proof of faith’s presence every day. I see it in the pain, struggles and hardships I have overcome. I witness it in the beauty and grace of those around me, through the people who have come in and out of my life. I see its affirmation in the love that surrounds me every day. Faith is the foundation of all that is good, of love, of hope for the future, and of the triumph over adversity. Faith is the seed of God’s love and faith is my constant companion.
It all begins with two simple yet beautiful words……I believe!
Showing posts with label Questions in Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Questions in Life. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Don't Let Today Be Lost to Yesterday
In the past 11 months I have lost 4 people that I loved. It has been a pretty emotional year. Tonight I should have been home watching television, resting after practice not at a memorial to say goodbye to my dear friend, Gail.
Nothing makes sense, according to my calendar on October 31, 2011 I am supposed to be dropping off my shelves and crafts to Gail at Baldwin Hall. I am still in a bit of shock. I have Gail’s message saved on my cell phone, she asked how Kathryn and Cole were doing, if I am ready for the upcoming craft show and can she borrow my shelves again this year. She ended with she knew I was busy, no rush simply call her back when life slowed down and I had time to talk. I saved her message to remind myself to call her after homecoming and Charlotte’s wedding this weekend. I made the mistake of waiting too long, assuming I had plenty of time to talk and catch up. I believed because I had written a date on my calendar Gail was going to be there. After all she had always been there for the past 27 years, why would this year be different? We had spent the past twenty years in the back room at her craft show as we inventoried crafts in, catching up on the year that had past, laughing, sharing photographs and sometimes even crying over life. This year should have been the same, no one expects their friend to die suddenly. Now sadly the time I had to call Gail is gone. I lost the opportunity to talk to my friend one last time, I allowed today to simply pass away to yesterday. I made the mistake of believing I still had tomorrow to catch up.
Driving home from Gail’s memorial I wondered how many of my friends would make the same mistake I had, believing they still had time with their friends. Tomorrow they would return a phone call, reconnect with an old friend and see how they were doing. They weren’t worried about missing the upcoming reunion because surely everyone would be at the next. How many of my friends believe they still have time to let someone know how important they are, how much they loved them, say thank you. How many will let time pass and never say what should have been said long ago. Then I thought of all my friends who were no longer talking to each other, exes that no longer speak. For one reason or another they cannot allow themselves to forgive. I have often heard, “Eventually I will get over it and forgive them.” When does eventually stop being? I wonder what happens if they wake up tomorrow and the person they refuse to forgive or talk to is no longer there? Their chance to let go and move on is gone? What regrets will they have? There are people who I was excited to reconnect with. I enjoyed our weekly email correspondence when suddenly they stopped writing. When I asked what was wrong I received no response. I tried to discover what mistakes I may have made so I could correct them, apologize. I let them know their silence hurt me, again I received no answer so now I wonder will they carry any regrets when I am gone. The regret I have is never knowing what I did to upset them and never given the opportunity to correct whatever it was.
No matter how much we may want to, we can never get yesterday back. No one is flawless, some relationships end, people make mistakes. We are all wonderfully human, beautifully imperfect. Where a photograph of a person may fit perfectly in a frame of our choosing, friends don’t always conform to the ideas or standards we want them to but that does not make them less worthy of our forgiveness or friendship. In the end why would we ever expect or want anyone to be anything less than fallible? We are who we are, good and/or bad. Perfect people are to say the least boring. Flawed friends are paradisaical, they keep life interesting. We grow as individuals by making mistakes, leaning how to forgive and move forward.
Some times I believe we get so caught up in what has happened or what was said in the past we lose sight of what is truly precious now, time! We allow it to fall through the cracks of life and get away from us. Time we have been blessed with that our friends who have passed would cherish. How many times after a loved one has died have we all wished for one more hug, one more chance to say I love you. What we lose sight of, we no longer have that time with them, they are gone, but we still have it with each other! For now we have time to share together, time to laugh, hug and cry. Most importantly we have time to forgive! We are blessed; we can still feel the sun on face, taste the rain on our lips, feel the wind in our hair and watch the moon rise. Most importantly we have been given the gift of another day with the ones we love. We are the lucky ones, we still have today to enjoy and create memories together with our family and friends; it’s tomorrow that is uncertain. Treasure now don't wait for eventually.
Please remember there are no do overs in life, you can never regain lost time, so make today count, do not allow it to become a yesterday of regret.
---------------------------------------------------------
Less than twelve hours after I posted this piece I learned Kala Marie Austin was killed in a car crash driving to school. She was just 17 years old. I first met Kala when she was 8 years old and cheering with the Bucs. My dear good friend Patty was her coach. I would often attend Patty's practices to help her with stunts and her routine. I was able to watch Kala grow through cheerleading and Patty's kids. What I remember most about Kala, her big soft eyes. When she gave me that look during practice, I coudln't yell at her, I could only smile and laugh. I use to tease her that I was sure that look had Dad wrapped around her finger. She would smile and agree! Kala wanted to grow up to become a teacher, that was her dream. She was interning through Chesapeake High School at Bodkin Elementary School and in the short month and a half she was there, she touched many lives. She had a caring heart and a gentle soul.
It was hard to say good bye at her funeral, looking at her senior pictures, wondering all she could have been, knowing all she had been. The photograph that touched me most, the one of Kala in her cap and gown. Looking at it, reality sunk deep within me, on graduation day, when all her friends will be celebrating, she will not be there to share in the joy.
Please, forgive, laugh and love because none of us know how long we have on this earth. Never forget to tell the ones you love and care about how much they mean to you.
RIP Kala ....you are loved and will be missed!!
Nothing makes sense, according to my calendar on October 31, 2011 I am supposed to be dropping off my shelves and crafts to Gail at Baldwin Hall. I am still in a bit of shock. I have Gail’s message saved on my cell phone, she asked how Kathryn and Cole were doing, if I am ready for the upcoming craft show and can she borrow my shelves again this year. She ended with she knew I was busy, no rush simply call her back when life slowed down and I had time to talk. I saved her message to remind myself to call her after homecoming and Charlotte’s wedding this weekend. I made the mistake of waiting too long, assuming I had plenty of time to talk and catch up. I believed because I had written a date on my calendar Gail was going to be there. After all she had always been there for the past 27 years, why would this year be different? We had spent the past twenty years in the back room at her craft show as we inventoried crafts in, catching up on the year that had past, laughing, sharing photographs and sometimes even crying over life. This year should have been the same, no one expects their friend to die suddenly. Now sadly the time I had to call Gail is gone. I lost the opportunity to talk to my friend one last time, I allowed today to simply pass away to yesterday. I made the mistake of believing I still had tomorrow to catch up.
Driving home from Gail’s memorial I wondered how many of my friends would make the same mistake I had, believing they still had time with their friends. Tomorrow they would return a phone call, reconnect with an old friend and see how they were doing. They weren’t worried about missing the upcoming reunion because surely everyone would be at the next. How many of my friends believe they still have time to let someone know how important they are, how much they loved them, say thank you. How many will let time pass and never say what should have been said long ago. Then I thought of all my friends who were no longer talking to each other, exes that no longer speak. For one reason or another they cannot allow themselves to forgive. I have often heard, “Eventually I will get over it and forgive them.” When does eventually stop being? I wonder what happens if they wake up tomorrow and the person they refuse to forgive or talk to is no longer there? Their chance to let go and move on is gone? What regrets will they have? There are people who I was excited to reconnect with. I enjoyed our weekly email correspondence when suddenly they stopped writing. When I asked what was wrong I received no response. I tried to discover what mistakes I may have made so I could correct them, apologize. I let them know their silence hurt me, again I received no answer so now I wonder will they carry any regrets when I am gone. The regret I have is never knowing what I did to upset them and never given the opportunity to correct whatever it was.
No matter how much we may want to, we can never get yesterday back. No one is flawless, some relationships end, people make mistakes. We are all wonderfully human, beautifully imperfect. Where a photograph of a person may fit perfectly in a frame of our choosing, friends don’t always conform to the ideas or standards we want them to but that does not make them less worthy of our forgiveness or friendship. In the end why would we ever expect or want anyone to be anything less than fallible? We are who we are, good and/or bad. Perfect people are to say the least boring. Flawed friends are paradisaical, they keep life interesting. We grow as individuals by making mistakes, leaning how to forgive and move forward.
Some times I believe we get so caught up in what has happened or what was said in the past we lose sight of what is truly precious now, time! We allow it to fall through the cracks of life and get away from us. Time we have been blessed with that our friends who have passed would cherish. How many times after a loved one has died have we all wished for one more hug, one more chance to say I love you. What we lose sight of, we no longer have that time with them, they are gone, but we still have it with each other! For now we have time to share together, time to laugh, hug and cry. Most importantly we have time to forgive! We are blessed; we can still feel the sun on face, taste the rain on our lips, feel the wind in our hair and watch the moon rise. Most importantly we have been given the gift of another day with the ones we love. We are the lucky ones, we still have today to enjoy and create memories together with our family and friends; it’s tomorrow that is uncertain. Treasure now don't wait for eventually.
Please remember there are no do overs in life, you can never regain lost time, so make today count, do not allow it to become a yesterday of regret.
---------------------------------------------------------
Less than twelve hours after I posted this piece I learned Kala Marie Austin was killed in a car crash driving to school. She was just 17 years old. I first met Kala when she was 8 years old and cheering with the Bucs. My dear good friend Patty was her coach. I would often attend Patty's practices to help her with stunts and her routine. I was able to watch Kala grow through cheerleading and Patty's kids. What I remember most about Kala, her big soft eyes. When she gave me that look during practice, I coudln't yell at her, I could only smile and laugh. I use to tease her that I was sure that look had Dad wrapped around her finger. She would smile and agree! Kala wanted to grow up to become a teacher, that was her dream. She was interning through Chesapeake High School at Bodkin Elementary School and in the short month and a half she was there, she touched many lives. She had a caring heart and a gentle soul.
It was hard to say good bye at her funeral, looking at her senior pictures, wondering all she could have been, knowing all she had been. The photograph that touched me most, the one of Kala in her cap and gown. Looking at it, reality sunk deep within me, on graduation day, when all her friends will be celebrating, she will not be there to share in the joy.
Please, forgive, laugh and love because none of us know how long we have on this earth. Never forget to tell the ones you love and care about how much they mean to you.
RIP Kala ....you are loved and will be missed!!
Friday, September 16, 2011
Relationships- Lessons Learned
A few weeks back I was out with a group of friends when the conversation turned to previous relationships. I was surprised at how many of my friends did not like their former partners. They dreaded the thought of running into them. I was perplexed that a vast majority of my friends believed they did nothing wrong, the relationship ended because the other party was one hundred percent at fault. As gently as possible, I tried to question, if they had done nothing wrong, if they were the perfect partner, wouldn’t they still be in the relationship? I was showered with an instantaneous and unanimous, “I had nothing to do with its failure.”
Why do people believe if a relationship ends, it was a failure? For me the answer has always been, it ends because it was never meant to last. For some reason or another, we, me and whomever, were not perfect for each other. A break-up is only a failure if you do not learn from it.
When a union dissolves the fault lies with both parties. It takes two people to make a relationship work and it takes two people to end it. One may carry more blame than the other but each person must own their share for its breakdown.
I can hear the chorus now; how can I be responsible if my partner cheated on me? A significant other does not cheat is their partner is perfect. I have had boyfriends cheat on me and it hurt me deeply. I also realized they cheated because I was not listening to them; I was not giving them what they needed. I did not see the signs I needed to pay more attention to him.
I have friends who would ask how could it possibly be their fault when their ex cheated on all their previous partners. The fault lies in dating a person you know to be a serial cheater. Why would you ever think they would be different for you?
I learned a long time ago if you own your part of the responsibility, what you did wrong, it is easier to understand their actions. Why they went in search of someone else. It does not make what they did right but it does make it easier to forgive and move on. Until you forgive, as long as one holds anger, you are in essence still tied to your past, tied to them. It is impossible to move forward until you are free.
Of course I also understand there are people in this world who defy explanation, no ifs, ands or buts; they are jerks, evil, bad. These are the abusive partners. They have the ability to suck all the happiness and joy out of a person. They fool everyone around them, hiding their true ‘personality or character’ until it is too late, a person is already deep into a relationship. The time they steal from a person can never be regained but with God’s grace and with a lot of help from family and friends the person who is sucked into a relationship with an evil person can survive the damage and move on. The lesson is looking back and trying to recognize the hints, the clues they subtly dropped at the beginning of the relationship, understanding why one refused to see them. The only true fault is usually being too nice, too naïve and not leaving sooner.
I have heard friends state they have the divorce or the break up from hell, but why was it hell? I have never been married or had a bad break up so I have no personal experience. From what I have witnessed, nasty endings are because one or both parties are hurting, feel wronged. The 'injured' party feels they have done nothing wrong, they have every right to impose their wrath. They are still suffering therefore they must cause the other person to feel as much pain as they do. They are not ready to admit or own their fault in the collapse of the relationship. They honestly believe they hate their previous lover, not recognizing it they didn't love them so much, they wouldn't be hurting so badly. My grandmother once told me the difference between love and hate is pain and anguish. The only cure, recognize the difference and forgive.
I look at my previous relationships as building blocks, life’s lessons until I find the man I am meant to spend the rest of my life with. My past boyfriends made me who I am and I am thankful I dated them. I am grateful most are still a part of my life. It always saddens me when I hear people talk about how much they hate their ex. If they saw them they would turn away, leave where ever they were. Maybe I am not the norm, but I know if I saw one of my exes I would walk up and hug them. Catch up over lost time and laugh over old times.
I have often wondered why is it so hard for some people to remember the good parts of their relationship, what first attracted them to their ex? Why instead do they choose to dwell on the ending, all the bad parts of the relationship, the character flaws of their ex? We all have our imperfections, just as I had to learn to adjust to their quirks, they had to deal with all my peculiarities. I am not perfect and I have never expected my partner to be as well. Besides perfection is pretty boring!
I have been pretty lucky in the boyfriend department. Most of my relationships have been with some pretty amazing men. I may not have realized it at the time, but looking back I recognize how truly fortunate I was. I would be lying if I did not confess that a few of my exes devastated me and it took me a while to get over the pain of the hurt they inflicted. For a time, because of them, I built ‘walls’ to protect myself from feeling too much, never wanting to experience that kind of hurt again. As I matured I recognized and accepted my part in how the relationship deteriorated, why it fell apart. I had to take my responsibility in causing my own pain. The most eye opening moment, when I realized in a few of my relationships I was more at fault than my ex. Time has a way of disclosing the truth if you are willing to search your soul.
The only way I have ever been able to liberate myself and move forward, examine the relationship. Identify what was wonderful, what hurt, what was my fault, and what would I change. To move forward, never make the same mistake, I had to be honest, look deep within myself and admit my faults. It was never important what my ex did, that was for them to accept and own, I had to concentrate on what I could take away from the relationship. I had to ask myself the hard questions. I had to learn how I could grow, forgive and move forward; be ready for the next man in my life. Sometimes examining my mistakes in a relationship was a difficult lesson but I understood if I did not learn from them I would constantly repeat them and I truly hate repetition of a bad nature!! Who knows maybe my next boyfriend will be 'Mr. Right' and after learning from all my mistakes, my faults hopefully I will be ready for him.
Why do people believe if a relationship ends, it was a failure? For me the answer has always been, it ends because it was never meant to last. For some reason or another, we, me and whomever, were not perfect for each other. A break-up is only a failure if you do not learn from it.
When a union dissolves the fault lies with both parties. It takes two people to make a relationship work and it takes two people to end it. One may carry more blame than the other but each person must own their share for its breakdown.
I can hear the chorus now; how can I be responsible if my partner cheated on me? A significant other does not cheat is their partner is perfect. I have had boyfriends cheat on me and it hurt me deeply. I also realized they cheated because I was not listening to them; I was not giving them what they needed. I did not see the signs I needed to pay more attention to him.
I have friends who would ask how could it possibly be their fault when their ex cheated on all their previous partners. The fault lies in dating a person you know to be a serial cheater. Why would you ever think they would be different for you?
I learned a long time ago if you own your part of the responsibility, what you did wrong, it is easier to understand their actions. Why they went in search of someone else. It does not make what they did right but it does make it easier to forgive and move on. Until you forgive, as long as one holds anger, you are in essence still tied to your past, tied to them. It is impossible to move forward until you are free.
Of course I also understand there are people in this world who defy explanation, no ifs, ands or buts; they are jerks, evil, bad. These are the abusive partners. They have the ability to suck all the happiness and joy out of a person. They fool everyone around them, hiding their true ‘personality or character’ until it is too late, a person is already deep into a relationship. The time they steal from a person can never be regained but with God’s grace and with a lot of help from family and friends the person who is sucked into a relationship with an evil person can survive the damage and move on. The lesson is looking back and trying to recognize the hints, the clues they subtly dropped at the beginning of the relationship, understanding why one refused to see them. The only true fault is usually being too nice, too naïve and not leaving sooner.
I have heard friends state they have the divorce or the break up from hell, but why was it hell? I have never been married or had a bad break up so I have no personal experience. From what I have witnessed, nasty endings are because one or both parties are hurting, feel wronged. The 'injured' party feels they have done nothing wrong, they have every right to impose their wrath. They are still suffering therefore they must cause the other person to feel as much pain as they do. They are not ready to admit or own their fault in the collapse of the relationship. They honestly believe they hate their previous lover, not recognizing it they didn't love them so much, they wouldn't be hurting so badly. My grandmother once told me the difference between love and hate is pain and anguish. The only cure, recognize the difference and forgive.
I look at my previous relationships as building blocks, life’s lessons until I find the man I am meant to spend the rest of my life with. My past boyfriends made me who I am and I am thankful I dated them. I am grateful most are still a part of my life. It always saddens me when I hear people talk about how much they hate their ex. If they saw them they would turn away, leave where ever they were. Maybe I am not the norm, but I know if I saw one of my exes I would walk up and hug them. Catch up over lost time and laugh over old times.
I have often wondered why is it so hard for some people to remember the good parts of their relationship, what first attracted them to their ex? Why instead do they choose to dwell on the ending, all the bad parts of the relationship, the character flaws of their ex? We all have our imperfections, just as I had to learn to adjust to their quirks, they had to deal with all my peculiarities. I am not perfect and I have never expected my partner to be as well. Besides perfection is pretty boring!
I have been pretty lucky in the boyfriend department. Most of my relationships have been with some pretty amazing men. I may not have realized it at the time, but looking back I recognize how truly fortunate I was. I would be lying if I did not confess that a few of my exes devastated me and it took me a while to get over the pain of the hurt they inflicted. For a time, because of them, I built ‘walls’ to protect myself from feeling too much, never wanting to experience that kind of hurt again. As I matured I recognized and accepted my part in how the relationship deteriorated, why it fell apart. I had to take my responsibility in causing my own pain. The most eye opening moment, when I realized in a few of my relationships I was more at fault than my ex. Time has a way of disclosing the truth if you are willing to search your soul.
The only way I have ever been able to liberate myself and move forward, examine the relationship. Identify what was wonderful, what hurt, what was my fault, and what would I change. To move forward, never make the same mistake, I had to be honest, look deep within myself and admit my faults. It was never important what my ex did, that was for them to accept and own, I had to concentrate on what I could take away from the relationship. I had to ask myself the hard questions. I had to learn how I could grow, forgive and move forward; be ready for the next man in my life. Sometimes examining my mistakes in a relationship was a difficult lesson but I understood if I did not learn from them I would constantly repeat them and I truly hate repetition of a bad nature!! Who knows maybe my next boyfriend will be 'Mr. Right' and after learning from all my mistakes, my faults hopefully I will be ready for him.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Paul- The Why That Will Never Be Answered
Before you read, I understand this is a touchy subject, one most people would want to avoid. It is a very uncomfortable subject and I am sure I will upset some people but by writing about it I hope to remove some of the stigma people attach to it. The problem will never go away until we all learn to address the issue head on.
PAUL
August 30, 2011 would have been my friend Paul’s 50th birthday. No matter how much I want to I can’t stop the tears that are beginning to well up in my eyes, his birthday was very hard for me. Writing this post is difficult, I miss him! I miss my friend.
Paul and I first met when he was a midshipman at the United States Naval Academy, 9th company, class of 1983. I don’t remember talking to Paul that much in college. As he liked to tease me later in life, it wasn’t for a lack of him trying, I was always surrounded by groups of people, I talked too much, and I never let anyone get a word in edgewise. The conversations I do remember with Paul all involved sports. I was a diehard O’s and Colts fan, he loved ‘Da Bears” and the Cubs. I had a blast teasing him over my teams' victories and his teams' losses.
As Paul often said after twenty seven years of light and across 3,000 miles we reconnected via Facebook. When we first found each other he was amazed I remembered him. At first we emailed/messaged back and forth. Then labor day Monday he called. At first scolding me for listing my cell phone number on my profile, then we talked all things Jimmy Buffett, finally he confessed he spent the holiday weekend reading my blog. He was upset with me that I never called him or any of the 9th company guys after Bobby died. He told me reading my blog made everything fall into place. It all made sense to him why I seemed to drop off everyone’s radar in 1987/1988. He made me promise since everyone from the old days were finding each other I was never allowed to go through anything alone again. I was not permitted to "fall off the radar." He believed we all needed to rely on each other. Even if I did not graduate from the Academy with him in 1983, he still considered me part of his class of 83 family.
After our first phone call, it never failed, every ten days or so he would call, always greeting me with the same question, “Woman have you forgotten me already?” Between phone calls Paul would arbitrarily text. Some days I wondered if he ever slept. If he saw me on Facebook late at night he would text me “Go to sleep woman”, a few hours later I would be greeted on my phone with a text, “Good morning beautiful.” I would always send back, “Let me sleep you bum.” A texting argument would soon commence over the value of getting up early, not wasting the day verses staying up all night! He swore one day he was going to break me of my night owl habits, I was going to learn to love sunrise!
Slowly as we got reacquainted I was amazed at how much he remembered about me from college; parties, dances I attended (including what I wore), tailgaters, nights at the Flight’s house etc. His memory astonished me. I was touched when he told me about the time he saw me crying on the porch in the arms of Mrs. Flight, heartbroken once again over one of his company mates. He admitted he heard part of the conversation, he apologized he should have walked away, but as he put it, he was a typical male back then. I laughed when he try to explain, he didn’t understand why but he felt the urge and did mutter “jack ass” when he walked by the certain someone’s room.
On numerous occasions Paul would talk of how much he missed the Academy days and his fellow 9th company classmates. I almost dropped the phone the night he announced/promised he was coming back to Annapolis. The man who had not stepped on the Academy grounds for 26 years was coming home for a football game. I was informed I had no choice but to make myself available for whatever weekend he chose. He knew a lot of his old friends lived in the area and he wanted us all to be together; the ‘family’ that hung out at the Flight’s. Paul demanded jokingly, “I want a fun reunion so every one better be in a good mood including you! Be prepared to drink woman!” If you have not figured it out by now with Paul I had no name, I was always addressed as “Woman”.
Paul definitely had a gruff side; he loved to disagree with me, try to correct me. I knew most of the time he was full of it, he simply enjoyed bantering back and forth. I knew I frustrated him more than most of his friends I never gave in during an argument, I would keep pushing my point until he got tired of the subject. I knew I had won the debate when he would yell, “Damn it Woman you confound me! I can’t win if you make no sense.” I would laugh at his confusion, quickly change the subject and the conversation would continue. Numerous times Paul in his very frank not so gentle style pointed out how he thought I needed to change my life. There were certain aspects he believed needed overhauling and certain people needed to be lost. Yes sometimes his truthful words stung more than I wanted to admit.
Paul may have been brusque at times but I was lucky I got to know Paul’s gentle side as well. Last fall when my father was dying from cancer he always checked on me, making sure I had everything I needed. One morning after posting I had spent most of the night silently crying at the hospital, I was gently reprimanded via text from Paul. He reminded me he was in California, three hours behind the east coast. It really didn’t matter what time it was I never had to cry alone he was only a phone call away. From that morning forward Paul called or texted before he went to bed to say goodnight and ask, “You hanging in there?” A simple question, his way of letting me know he cared. Upon receiving the message Dad died, he called immediately. I never said anything, yet he understood the one thing I needed the most he couldn’t give me. He apologized because he wasn’t here to hug me, hold me and give me his arms to cry in. Paul had listened, he remembered the one thing I said I have always wanted yet never seem to find; a set of big strong arms to crawl into and feel safe enough to cry.
The two of us spent many hours on the phone I thought sharing everything that was going on in our lives. We talked about his ‘potential’ (girlfriend), work, motorcycle trips, wine, back pain, migraines, plans we were making for the summer, for the future. I was flattered when he confessed one of the things he loved and admired about me, was the way I could forgive anyone, anything and move forward. The fact that I forgave my daughter’s father and was able to be friends with him again gave Paul hope with his daughter. The topic of many phone conversations were our daughters. He loved his little girl more then he thought possible. He confessed he wasn’t the best father but was trying to improve on their relationship. He hoped one day they would be close, maybe not your typical father daughter relationship close but one that worked best for them. I smiled when I read on my newsfeed that he was friends with his daughter on Facebook, I texted a quick, “Way to go Dad” when I read it.
I thought Paul and I were always open and honest with each other, no subject seemed off limits. I confessed many things, feelings I had never admitted to in the past. Sadly I learned he was not as open. He did not share all he was feeling. He lied to me when he said life was good, he had everything under control. Something was going on inside Paul that he did not share with me or as I have learned with anyone else.
The last time I talked to Paul was May 16, 2011 at 9:24 p.m. I have forever locked his entry into my cell phone log. We talked longer than normal, in fact I had to hang up and call him back from the house phone. He had me rolling on the floor in laughter as he was reliving some of his Academy days. Apparently it is frowned upon at the Academy to move some of the planes on the grounds, and it is also not a good idea to come back to Mother B drunk after a football game. Doing both within a twenty four hour period, not so brilliant. I had never heard about the Black N Star club until that evening. Paul was a proud sweater bearing member. He also informed me after his trip to Hawaii he hated women, we were all bad. I reminded him he was talking to me and I was a woman. I was informed by him I don’t count. I decided it was smarter not to ask if I did not count as a woman or bad. I chuckled as Paul tried to decide if he wanted to live the life of a celibate or a ladies’ man. I suggested the later would be more fun for him. I could live vicariously through his wild ways. Looking back, what should have struck me as odd at the time but didn’t, for the first time before he hung up he said, I miss you, I will always miss you. Then quickly his voice changed from sweet to gruff and he bluntly told me it was my turn to call next, I needed to carry my weight in our relationship. I hung up thinking I was being scolded as always!!
I never got that chance to call Paul back, on May 25, 2011, twenty eight years to the day of his graduation from the United States Naval Academy, my friend Paul took his own life. He committed suicide. It would be a week before I would know he was dead.
I was getting ready to sign off Facebook the early morning hours of May 31/June 1 when I saw a post come across my feed from one of his classmates sending condolences to Paul’s family. In an instant I couldn’t breathe, I stared at my computer in disbelief. I immediately went to Paul’s page hoping to find some information, praying it was a mistake. As wrong as it sounds hoping it was someone in his family that had died, not Paul. His wall was filled with messages to his family, to Paul stating how much he was missed. I scrolled up and down his page trying to find out any information what happen, when, where, there was none. Tears were flooding my face as I emailed an academy friend to see if he knew what happened. Paul had told me he was planning a motorcycle trip over Memorial Day weekend, my initial thought, he was in an accident. I was not prepared for the phone call that I received later in the afternoon informing me the man who looked after me, made sure I was okay, told me he would always be there, killed himself. I wanted to break down but I couldn’t, it was my daughter’s birthday, so I wiped the tears from my eyes, put on my happy face and went out to dinner. No matter how much pain I was in I could not and would not ruin my daughter’s special day.
After dinner when I returned home, I crawled into bed, screamed, cried and cursed him. I was angry at Paul, he told me if I was ever in pain I could call him anytime. Did he not understand that it was the same for him? By the time I finally fell asleep I was no longer angry, my pillow was soaked with tears. I missed my friend and wanted to talk to him one more time, ask him why? Didn’t he know I would always be there for him no matter what it was, how he felt? I was trying to fathom what could be so bad he couldn’t talk about it? I wanted to turn back time so I could remind him he was loved by many including me. I cried harder when I realized I had never told Paul I loved him and his friendship meant so much to me. I had once again left some very important words/feelings unspoken. I assumed he knew. One day I will forgive myself for making that mistake a second time.
I thought his birthday wouldn’t be as hard as it was, randomly throughout the day and night a few tears would roll down my cheeks. I know if Paul were still here he would be surrounded by his friends celebrating this huge milestone in his life. I would have been one of the first people to tease him playfully that he was half a century old. You better believe I would have greeted him with “Happy Birthday old Man!” He had tons of friends who loved him. I pray he never doubted that but his suicide makes me wonder.
If you visit Paul’s Facebook page you will see old friends are still asking what happened, how did Paul die? No response is posted to the question instead they are asked to email someone for the answer. His suicide is the silent demon on the wall, ever present yet no one wants to acknowledge it. I am not sure why. Is it because we all believe we hold some amount of guilt, not knowing or understanding what was going on with Paul? Not seeing his pain? I know I feel that way some days. Or is it shame? Are we all afraid to put suicide on his page worried it is like a scarlet letter to be worn in disgrace? Paul was obviously hurting and there is never any shame in that. We all hurt at times, we all cry. I am upset with Paul for not talking to someone, anyone. He should have sought solace from his friends. He left a lot of us confused and hurting when he killed himself.
I can’t help but to wonder if that is what we are all doing wrong, not talking about his suicide openly. Maybe a frank conversation might stop someone else from taking their own life. Hopefully they would see the pain Paul left behind. I don’t think Paul ever truly comprehended, by killing himself, how much sorrow he would cause those he loved. He did not leave a note, none of us will ever know why he chose to end his life, we can only speculate but there will never be any certainty. To me, not knowing, the guilt I carry for not recognizing his pain makes it harder for me to grieve and let go.
Maybe if we all talk about his suicide, maybe not on his facebook page but acknowledge it directly in conversations and emails we can help each other accept his death. Instead of using words with hidden meanings or indirect statements remove the stigma address the subject head on, suicide. We can help each other understand there will never be an answer to the question why. I understand Paul is the only one who truly holds all the answers. For some reason he did not want to share them but who knows we may discover we each hold a piece of Paul’s puzzle, together we form the why of his suicide. For me what hurts the most is knowing Paul did not feel he could share his pain with me. It means he did not truly trust me the way I trusted him. I will always wonder if there was anything I could have said or done to get him to open up, stop him from making the decision to take his own life. I will always question, what didn’t I give him that he needed?
What haunts me the most, what I can still hear in my brain, the memory of Paul’s voice, his traditional phone greeting, “Woman have you forgotten me already?” The answer is no Paul I have never forgotten you, never will. You were my friend and I love you!
PAUL
August 30, 2011 would have been my friend Paul’s 50th birthday. No matter how much I want to I can’t stop the tears that are beginning to well up in my eyes, his birthday was very hard for me. Writing this post is difficult, I miss him! I miss my friend.
Paul and I first met when he was a midshipman at the United States Naval Academy, 9th company, class of 1983. I don’t remember talking to Paul that much in college. As he liked to tease me later in life, it wasn’t for a lack of him trying, I was always surrounded by groups of people, I talked too much, and I never let anyone get a word in edgewise. The conversations I do remember with Paul all involved sports. I was a diehard O’s and Colts fan, he loved ‘Da Bears” and the Cubs. I had a blast teasing him over my teams' victories and his teams' losses.
As Paul often said after twenty seven years of light and across 3,000 miles we reconnected via Facebook. When we first found each other he was amazed I remembered him. At first we emailed/messaged back and forth. Then labor day Monday he called. At first scolding me for listing my cell phone number on my profile, then we talked all things Jimmy Buffett, finally he confessed he spent the holiday weekend reading my blog. He was upset with me that I never called him or any of the 9th company guys after Bobby died. He told me reading my blog made everything fall into place. It all made sense to him why I seemed to drop off everyone’s radar in 1987/1988. He made me promise since everyone from the old days were finding each other I was never allowed to go through anything alone again. I was not permitted to "fall off the radar." He believed we all needed to rely on each other. Even if I did not graduate from the Academy with him in 1983, he still considered me part of his class of 83 family.
After our first phone call, it never failed, every ten days or so he would call, always greeting me with the same question, “Woman have you forgotten me already?” Between phone calls Paul would arbitrarily text. Some days I wondered if he ever slept. If he saw me on Facebook late at night he would text me “Go to sleep woman”, a few hours later I would be greeted on my phone with a text, “Good morning beautiful.” I would always send back, “Let me sleep you bum.” A texting argument would soon commence over the value of getting up early, not wasting the day verses staying up all night! He swore one day he was going to break me of my night owl habits, I was going to learn to love sunrise!
Slowly as we got reacquainted I was amazed at how much he remembered about me from college; parties, dances I attended (including what I wore), tailgaters, nights at the Flight’s house etc. His memory astonished me. I was touched when he told me about the time he saw me crying on the porch in the arms of Mrs. Flight, heartbroken once again over one of his company mates. He admitted he heard part of the conversation, he apologized he should have walked away, but as he put it, he was a typical male back then. I laughed when he try to explain, he didn’t understand why but he felt the urge and did mutter “jack ass” when he walked by the certain someone’s room.
On numerous occasions Paul would talk of how much he missed the Academy days and his fellow 9th company classmates. I almost dropped the phone the night he announced/promised he was coming back to Annapolis. The man who had not stepped on the Academy grounds for 26 years was coming home for a football game. I was informed I had no choice but to make myself available for whatever weekend he chose. He knew a lot of his old friends lived in the area and he wanted us all to be together; the ‘family’ that hung out at the Flight’s. Paul demanded jokingly, “I want a fun reunion so every one better be in a good mood including you! Be prepared to drink woman!” If you have not figured it out by now with Paul I had no name, I was always addressed as “Woman”.
Paul definitely had a gruff side; he loved to disagree with me, try to correct me. I knew most of the time he was full of it, he simply enjoyed bantering back and forth. I knew I frustrated him more than most of his friends I never gave in during an argument, I would keep pushing my point until he got tired of the subject. I knew I had won the debate when he would yell, “Damn it Woman you confound me! I can’t win if you make no sense.” I would laugh at his confusion, quickly change the subject and the conversation would continue. Numerous times Paul in his very frank not so gentle style pointed out how he thought I needed to change my life. There were certain aspects he believed needed overhauling and certain people needed to be lost. Yes sometimes his truthful words stung more than I wanted to admit.
Paul may have been brusque at times but I was lucky I got to know Paul’s gentle side as well. Last fall when my father was dying from cancer he always checked on me, making sure I had everything I needed. One morning after posting I had spent most of the night silently crying at the hospital, I was gently reprimanded via text from Paul. He reminded me he was in California, three hours behind the east coast. It really didn’t matter what time it was I never had to cry alone he was only a phone call away. From that morning forward Paul called or texted before he went to bed to say goodnight and ask, “You hanging in there?” A simple question, his way of letting me know he cared. Upon receiving the message Dad died, he called immediately. I never said anything, yet he understood the one thing I needed the most he couldn’t give me. He apologized because he wasn’t here to hug me, hold me and give me his arms to cry in. Paul had listened, he remembered the one thing I said I have always wanted yet never seem to find; a set of big strong arms to crawl into and feel safe enough to cry.
The two of us spent many hours on the phone I thought sharing everything that was going on in our lives. We talked about his ‘potential’ (girlfriend), work, motorcycle trips, wine, back pain, migraines, plans we were making for the summer, for the future. I was flattered when he confessed one of the things he loved and admired about me, was the way I could forgive anyone, anything and move forward. The fact that I forgave my daughter’s father and was able to be friends with him again gave Paul hope with his daughter. The topic of many phone conversations were our daughters. He loved his little girl more then he thought possible. He confessed he wasn’t the best father but was trying to improve on their relationship. He hoped one day they would be close, maybe not your typical father daughter relationship close but one that worked best for them. I smiled when I read on my newsfeed that he was friends with his daughter on Facebook, I texted a quick, “Way to go Dad” when I read it.
I thought Paul and I were always open and honest with each other, no subject seemed off limits. I confessed many things, feelings I had never admitted to in the past. Sadly I learned he was not as open. He did not share all he was feeling. He lied to me when he said life was good, he had everything under control. Something was going on inside Paul that he did not share with me or as I have learned with anyone else.
The last time I talked to Paul was May 16, 2011 at 9:24 p.m. I have forever locked his entry into my cell phone log. We talked longer than normal, in fact I had to hang up and call him back from the house phone. He had me rolling on the floor in laughter as he was reliving some of his Academy days. Apparently it is frowned upon at the Academy to move some of the planes on the grounds, and it is also not a good idea to come back to Mother B drunk after a football game. Doing both within a twenty four hour period, not so brilliant. I had never heard about the Black N Star club until that evening. Paul was a proud sweater bearing member. He also informed me after his trip to Hawaii he hated women, we were all bad. I reminded him he was talking to me and I was a woman. I was informed by him I don’t count. I decided it was smarter not to ask if I did not count as a woman or bad. I chuckled as Paul tried to decide if he wanted to live the life of a celibate or a ladies’ man. I suggested the later would be more fun for him. I could live vicariously through his wild ways. Looking back, what should have struck me as odd at the time but didn’t, for the first time before he hung up he said, I miss you, I will always miss you. Then quickly his voice changed from sweet to gruff and he bluntly told me it was my turn to call next, I needed to carry my weight in our relationship. I hung up thinking I was being scolded as always!!
I never got that chance to call Paul back, on May 25, 2011, twenty eight years to the day of his graduation from the United States Naval Academy, my friend Paul took his own life. He committed suicide. It would be a week before I would know he was dead.
I was getting ready to sign off Facebook the early morning hours of May 31/June 1 when I saw a post come across my feed from one of his classmates sending condolences to Paul’s family. In an instant I couldn’t breathe, I stared at my computer in disbelief. I immediately went to Paul’s page hoping to find some information, praying it was a mistake. As wrong as it sounds hoping it was someone in his family that had died, not Paul. His wall was filled with messages to his family, to Paul stating how much he was missed. I scrolled up and down his page trying to find out any information what happen, when, where, there was none. Tears were flooding my face as I emailed an academy friend to see if he knew what happened. Paul had told me he was planning a motorcycle trip over Memorial Day weekend, my initial thought, he was in an accident. I was not prepared for the phone call that I received later in the afternoon informing me the man who looked after me, made sure I was okay, told me he would always be there, killed himself. I wanted to break down but I couldn’t, it was my daughter’s birthday, so I wiped the tears from my eyes, put on my happy face and went out to dinner. No matter how much pain I was in I could not and would not ruin my daughter’s special day.
After dinner when I returned home, I crawled into bed, screamed, cried and cursed him. I was angry at Paul, he told me if I was ever in pain I could call him anytime. Did he not understand that it was the same for him? By the time I finally fell asleep I was no longer angry, my pillow was soaked with tears. I missed my friend and wanted to talk to him one more time, ask him why? Didn’t he know I would always be there for him no matter what it was, how he felt? I was trying to fathom what could be so bad he couldn’t talk about it? I wanted to turn back time so I could remind him he was loved by many including me. I cried harder when I realized I had never told Paul I loved him and his friendship meant so much to me. I had once again left some very important words/feelings unspoken. I assumed he knew. One day I will forgive myself for making that mistake a second time.
I thought his birthday wouldn’t be as hard as it was, randomly throughout the day and night a few tears would roll down my cheeks. I know if Paul were still here he would be surrounded by his friends celebrating this huge milestone in his life. I would have been one of the first people to tease him playfully that he was half a century old. You better believe I would have greeted him with “Happy Birthday old Man!” He had tons of friends who loved him. I pray he never doubted that but his suicide makes me wonder.
If you visit Paul’s Facebook page you will see old friends are still asking what happened, how did Paul die? No response is posted to the question instead they are asked to email someone for the answer. His suicide is the silent demon on the wall, ever present yet no one wants to acknowledge it. I am not sure why. Is it because we all believe we hold some amount of guilt, not knowing or understanding what was going on with Paul? Not seeing his pain? I know I feel that way some days. Or is it shame? Are we all afraid to put suicide on his page worried it is like a scarlet letter to be worn in disgrace? Paul was obviously hurting and there is never any shame in that. We all hurt at times, we all cry. I am upset with Paul for not talking to someone, anyone. He should have sought solace from his friends. He left a lot of us confused and hurting when he killed himself.
I can’t help but to wonder if that is what we are all doing wrong, not talking about his suicide openly. Maybe a frank conversation might stop someone else from taking their own life. Hopefully they would see the pain Paul left behind. I don’t think Paul ever truly comprehended, by killing himself, how much sorrow he would cause those he loved. He did not leave a note, none of us will ever know why he chose to end his life, we can only speculate but there will never be any certainty. To me, not knowing, the guilt I carry for not recognizing his pain makes it harder for me to grieve and let go.
Maybe if we all talk about his suicide, maybe not on his facebook page but acknowledge it directly in conversations and emails we can help each other accept his death. Instead of using words with hidden meanings or indirect statements remove the stigma address the subject head on, suicide. We can help each other understand there will never be an answer to the question why. I understand Paul is the only one who truly holds all the answers. For some reason he did not want to share them but who knows we may discover we each hold a piece of Paul’s puzzle, together we form the why of his suicide. For me what hurts the most is knowing Paul did not feel he could share his pain with me. It means he did not truly trust me the way I trusted him. I will always wonder if there was anything I could have said or done to get him to open up, stop him from making the decision to take his own life. I will always question, what didn’t I give him that he needed?
What haunts me the most, what I can still hear in my brain, the memory of Paul’s voice, his traditional phone greeting, “Woman have you forgotten me already?” The answer is no Paul I have never forgotten you, never will. You were my friend and I love you!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Death, Destiny and God
There are times when my brain wraps itself around a certain idea, question or memory and won’t let it go. The thoughts churn away in my head, keeping me awake. I lie in bed pondering, remembering, trying to make sense of whatever has captivated my mind. That happened to me while I was on vacation.
Cole was having trouble falling asleep last week. I took him out on the porch of the beach house, sat on the swing and began to sing to him as I had done numerous times before. For some reason a line I sung stayed with me. “You won’t be called home until it’s your time.” I had no explanation why tears began to roll down my cheeks as the chorus continued to reverberate through my mind, my heart.
Long after Cole had been placed in his crib I sat on the porch, looking out over the ocean, reviewing all the things that had happened in my life and things I had seen in the news. Wondering if the statement was true. Were some people always meant to die young? Maybe it is blasphemy what I am about to write but what follows are the questions and thoughts that have been occupying my brain for the past week.
Ecclesiastes 3
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die;
Four things most Christians are taught; we each have our own destiny, we have purpose in life and we have free will under God. We are taught there is a book of life that was written before time began, it includes everyone’s name, the date of our birth and the date of our death.
Exodus 32:31-33
Moses knew of the existence of Jehovah’s book of life, and realized a person’s name could be removed from it.
What if our birth date is etched in stone but our death date is not there or could be changed the same as a person’s name could be removed from the book of life? Could it be free will has the ability to change when some of us die?
Could it be God has chosen a destiny for all of us but through our own time and faults we can possibly change it? Or could it be God’s destiny is the same for all of us, to live a long and happy life? Is it possible through free will we have the ability to change the course of our own providence? Can we alter the providence of another? I know God is always with us. If we listen he will guide us but through free will we always have the ability to make the right as well as the wrong decision. Or is making the wrong decision always been our destiny? Can free will and destiny coincide?
My father once told me “We are put on this earth to take care of each other” Could our purpose be that simple? Do too many of us struggle searching for our purpose, the meaning of life when all God wants and desires of us is to love and help each other?
Genesis 1:28
And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.
How many times have we heard someone say I married the wrong person, or read about a child or adult who died way too young. I believe in a loving and forgiving God. I can not believe in my heart he would want us to marry the wrong person, be with an abusive or cheating spouse. I believe God’s plan is for all of us to live a long and happy life. To find love, have children and share God’s love with them, with each other. Wasn't that God’s first blessing to us? Life is the most precious gift, God choose to give it to us so doesn’t that mean he would want us to enjoy it, cherish it?
God is always there trying to shepherd us in the right direction, help us find the fruits of his blessings. Sometimes we can look back and clearly see when God put the right person in our life but out of fear, out of confusion, we made the wrong decision, let them walk out of our life, wasted precious time. If we are lucky we can fix our mistakes but other times it is no longer possible and we must search for an alternative, pray God grants us a plan B as it may be. We simply have to listen and wait for God’s guidance when we have made a mistake. Pray God forgives us for not recognizing the gift he was trying to grant us. Try to drown out the guilt we feel, wondering if our mistakes changed another’s destiny. Would they have made that decision if we were a constant in their life? When the guilt, doubts, questions arise is when we need God the most. At times we may feel abandoned, alone and lost but I believe if we are quiet we can hear God. He is the constant in our lives.
Why do I suppose our death date is changeable? Watching the news this morning, I can’t believe God would put such a beautiful child as Caylee Anthony on this earth only to have her murdered. What purpose did that serve? Why would God want anyone murdered? He teaches us forgiveness not hatred and anger. Why would he bless us, give us life and then take it away so young. Why would he inflict so much pain on a child, on those who loved them? He doesn’t, he gives us the strength, love and faith we need to make it through the loss, the heartache, the sorrow. I truly believe we do not die alone, God sends us an Angel to help us on our journey to Heaven, comfort us in our pain, hold us in their arms our last few minutes or seconds on earth. I believe God is loving but the universe can be cruel, there is undoubtedly evil in the world.
I don’t believe God ever intends for someone to be killed by a drunk driver or any other kind of accident. I believe unplanned deaths happen because of free will, someone made the wrong decision, made a mistake. We are all imperfect, human. Accidents can sometimes be just that, an unplanned accident. Our decisions good and bad effect everyone around us. Our mistakes can change someone else’s destiny. Free will is a powerful gift and can effect us both good and bad.
I can’t explain cancer and other diseases that take the lives of so many young people. Maybe through the 2000 plus years of our evolution we have changed our environment so much we are causing cancer. I do know God has given us the intellect and power to find a cure. Miracles, the power of prayer I believe in them but I can’t explain why one person is saved over another. There are so many questions that I can not answer. Questions left in my brain that I can continue to ponder or give them up to God.
Whether I am right or wrong there is one thing I am convinced of, grace. When life does not go as planned, when we make the wrong decision, God grants us grace. Through grace he gives us strength when we are at our weakest. Grace carries us during hard times when we are struggling. Not only does God bestow upon us his grace but we have the ability to share his grace with others. Comfort those in need, help them when they are lost.
For now the questions will continue to swirl in my head. I know I will never have all the answers until I go to heaven. Until then I will try to have the unfaltering faith of a child. Do my best to follow one purpose I am positive of, to love, forgive and take care of my fellow man here on earth.
Cole was having trouble falling asleep last week. I took him out on the porch of the beach house, sat on the swing and began to sing to him as I had done numerous times before. For some reason a line I sung stayed with me. “You won’t be called home until it’s your time.” I had no explanation why tears began to roll down my cheeks as the chorus continued to reverberate through my mind, my heart.
Long after Cole had been placed in his crib I sat on the porch, looking out over the ocean, reviewing all the things that had happened in my life and things I had seen in the news. Wondering if the statement was true. Were some people always meant to die young? Maybe it is blasphemy what I am about to write but what follows are the questions and thoughts that have been occupying my brain for the past week.
Ecclesiastes 3
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die;
Four things most Christians are taught; we each have our own destiny, we have purpose in life and we have free will under God. We are taught there is a book of life that was written before time began, it includes everyone’s name, the date of our birth and the date of our death.
Exodus 32:31-33
Moses knew of the existence of Jehovah’s book of life, and realized a person’s name could be removed from it.
What if our birth date is etched in stone but our death date is not there or could be changed the same as a person’s name could be removed from the book of life? Could it be free will has the ability to change when some of us die?
Could it be God has chosen a destiny for all of us but through our own time and faults we can possibly change it? Or could it be God’s destiny is the same for all of us, to live a long and happy life? Is it possible through free will we have the ability to change the course of our own providence? Can we alter the providence of another? I know God is always with us. If we listen he will guide us but through free will we always have the ability to make the right as well as the wrong decision. Or is making the wrong decision always been our destiny? Can free will and destiny coincide?
My father once told me “We are put on this earth to take care of each other” Could our purpose be that simple? Do too many of us struggle searching for our purpose, the meaning of life when all God wants and desires of us is to love and help each other?
Genesis 1:28
And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.
How many times have we heard someone say I married the wrong person, or read about a child or adult who died way too young. I believe in a loving and forgiving God. I can not believe in my heart he would want us to marry the wrong person, be with an abusive or cheating spouse. I believe God’s plan is for all of us to live a long and happy life. To find love, have children and share God’s love with them, with each other. Wasn't that God’s first blessing to us? Life is the most precious gift, God choose to give it to us so doesn’t that mean he would want us to enjoy it, cherish it?
God is always there trying to shepherd us in the right direction, help us find the fruits of his blessings. Sometimes we can look back and clearly see when God put the right person in our life but out of fear, out of confusion, we made the wrong decision, let them walk out of our life, wasted precious time. If we are lucky we can fix our mistakes but other times it is no longer possible and we must search for an alternative, pray God grants us a plan B as it may be. We simply have to listen and wait for God’s guidance when we have made a mistake. Pray God forgives us for not recognizing the gift he was trying to grant us. Try to drown out the guilt we feel, wondering if our mistakes changed another’s destiny. Would they have made that decision if we were a constant in their life? When the guilt, doubts, questions arise is when we need God the most. At times we may feel abandoned, alone and lost but I believe if we are quiet we can hear God. He is the constant in our lives.
Why do I suppose our death date is changeable? Watching the news this morning, I can’t believe God would put such a beautiful child as Caylee Anthony on this earth only to have her murdered. What purpose did that serve? Why would God want anyone murdered? He teaches us forgiveness not hatred and anger. Why would he bless us, give us life and then take it away so young. Why would he inflict so much pain on a child, on those who loved them? He doesn’t, he gives us the strength, love and faith we need to make it through the loss, the heartache, the sorrow. I truly believe we do not die alone, God sends us an Angel to help us on our journey to Heaven, comfort us in our pain, hold us in their arms our last few minutes or seconds on earth. I believe God is loving but the universe can be cruel, there is undoubtedly evil in the world.
I don’t believe God ever intends for someone to be killed by a drunk driver or any other kind of accident. I believe unplanned deaths happen because of free will, someone made the wrong decision, made a mistake. We are all imperfect, human. Accidents can sometimes be just that, an unplanned accident. Our decisions good and bad effect everyone around us. Our mistakes can change someone else’s destiny. Free will is a powerful gift and can effect us both good and bad.
I can’t explain cancer and other diseases that take the lives of so many young people. Maybe through the 2000 plus years of our evolution we have changed our environment so much we are causing cancer. I do know God has given us the intellect and power to find a cure. Miracles, the power of prayer I believe in them but I can’t explain why one person is saved over another. There are so many questions that I can not answer. Questions left in my brain that I can continue to ponder or give them up to God.
Whether I am right or wrong there is one thing I am convinced of, grace. When life does not go as planned, when we make the wrong decision, God grants us grace. Through grace he gives us strength when we are at our weakest. Grace carries us during hard times when we are struggling. Not only does God bestow upon us his grace but we have the ability to share his grace with others. Comfort those in need, help them when they are lost.
For now the questions will continue to swirl in my head. I know I will never have all the answers until I go to heaven. Until then I will try to have the unfaltering faith of a child. Do my best to follow one purpose I am positive of, to love, forgive and take care of my fellow man here on earth.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Searching for Signs
When I first sat down to write about my search for signs the original piece was twelve pages long. I detailed everything that has happened to me since February 18, 2010. I decided to edit my post down to the last couple of months; one due to the length of first draft, second I truly believe some people might not understand all that has happened to me. They might be uncomfortable with what I had written. Instead of revealing my entire pilgrimage, I have decided to confess the final leg of my journey. Thank you for reading.
Signs, do they exist?
I believe love and life are eternal. With that knowledge, is it possible for those who have passed on to send us signs letting us know they are happy and in heaven?
Can they send us signs to let us know they love us when we have lost hope? Are signs a way for our loved ones to let us know they miss us in heaven as much as we miss them here on earth? Do our loved ones try to guide us on a path we may hesitate to travel? Is it possible for them through signs to give us answers to previously unanswered questions. Are signs a way for them to ease our hearts and minds, let us know they love us? Do we always recognize the signs they send? If we do not see a sign does that mean one does not exist or does it mean we are looking too hard? Is seeing believing or are we simply believing what we see?
Of course the most complicated question of all, what is a sign? Is it something as simple as a rainbow? Can a sign be a song played on the radio from long ago to remind us of a special person? Perhaps a sign is soft breeze on a still day. Can a sign be a strange sensation we suddenly have in our heart, the same one we felt when they were here with us. Many people see a flower that blooms out of season and assume it is a sign. Can watching a television show you normally don’t contain a message, a sign? Is our wonderful world full of signs or are they simply haphazard occurrences that remind us of a loved one we have lost and miss dearly? Individually we must determine if signs exist or if they are coincidences combined with wishful thinking.
The questions above are the center of my internal debate that has had me confused and lost for the past few months. A debate I have been afraid to share, afraid of the reaction I might receive from some. I honestly do not know if what I am seeing and feeling are signs or simply me wanting answers to questions that have none. I find myself looking at stars asking for permission, guidance from a person who is no longer here. Am I crazy asking him to send me a sign? Is he answering me or am I believing, seeing something that isn’t really there? When is something a coincidence or when is a coincidence really a sign?
For the past several months I had questions and doubts running through my mind. At the heart of my doubts should I continue to write my book? The main questions, why was I suddenly feeling so much this past year? Why was I remembering Bobby so clearly? So many memories came rushing back, it was at times overwhelming. I thought after visiting Bobby in August I had my answers. I thought I knew what to do. I was convinced he had given me the answers I needed. I truly believed he had given me signs while I sat and talked to him at his grave. As positive as I was when I left, things changed after labor day weekend. I began to have doubts. His friends who weeks before said they would be sending me stories and photos of Bobby never did. My follow up emails were never answered. I only knew one side of Bobby. I am the first to admit, through my mistakes I lost so much time, time I could have spent with him, learned more about him. In order to paint a better portrait of Bobby I needed his friends help. I needed to see him the way they did so I could write a better character in my book. My doubts and writing were soon interrupted, I was soon distracted.
Dad’s health began to decline rapidly and by the end of October he was in the hospital. To occupy myself when Dad was sleeping I began to write about Dad’s cancer, my feelings of helplessness at the hospital. Every day I would bring my writing bag with me when I stayed with Dad. Inside along with blank writing pads and pens were the completed chapters for Bobby’s book. I would see the notebook that contained the chapters every day when I pulled out my writing pad. A friend of mine, Janice, her father was in the hospital as well, staying few doors down from Dad. Her mom had read my blog on Bobby and asked if she could read the first three chapters I had completed. I didn’t see any harm, so I gave her the notebook to read one night. I thought if she hated it, maybe that would be the sign I needed to convince myself to finally give up on the book and throw it away. The next afternoon while Dad slept I was staring out the window when I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand. I smiled at Dad, he was half asleep, half awake, in a very drugged up stage. Out of the blue he told me I needed to write my story. He continued to explain, the fear I had, that some people doubted me I should forget. He continued once they read my story, felt the love I had for him in my words, they would know it was true. He had faith I had a New York Times best seller waiting to come out of me. He was sorry he wasn’t going to be here to see my book top the charts. He wanted me to know the first time I walked into a book store and saw my book at number one, he was going to be there with me. Then Dad fell back to sleep.
A few nights later (Saturday) I sat in the sixth floor lounge waiting for the techs to take Dad’s vitals and change him. I passed the time by editing the completed chapters, circling typos and sentences I wanted to rephrase. As I read the chapters, I debated if I should finish writing the book or throw it away. I didn’t know what to do. I understood I had to many emotions running through me from Dad’s cancer, they were definitely adding to my confusion. Later I returned to Dad’s room and held his hand until he fell back to sleep. I am not sure why but I found myself sitting in the recliner next to his bed, staring out the windows at the stars and talking to Bobby. I told him I still missed him. Watching Dad die was the hardest thing I had ever done. I wished he was still around to wipe away my tears like he had done many years before. I stared out the window remembering our conversation from long ago when he asked me why I didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant. I told Bobby I thought I had to do it alone, it was my mistake so it wouldn't be right to burden anyone with my problems. I remembered he sounded upset with me when he answered, “You know you never have to be alone, all you have to do is ask and I will be there. No matter what happens (with us) I will always be here for you.” I knew listening to his voice, he meant it. He would always be there for me even if we didn’t work out. He had a huge heart, loyal, he was simply that type of guy. I stared out the window and told Bobby I could use one of his amazing hugs, I was feeling pretty lost and alone. I didn’t know how to say good bye to my Dad. I wasn’t ready yet. Then I apologized to Bobby I hadn’t written in his book for several weeks. I had promised him when I was at his grave that I would write with my heart and do my best to honor his memory. I was lost, I did not know if I should even try to finish the book. I felt like his friends were against the idea. Life would be so much easier if he were here, he could tell me what he wanted me to do. What I wouldn’t give to see him one more time. I told him I really needed a sign, something to let me know if I should finish the book.
Sunday afternoon I went to my parent’s house to retrieve some papers my Dad had asked my sister to get from the bottom drawer of his dresser. Debbie was busy so she asked if I would stop by and pick them up for Dad. While Mom was visiting Dad I drove over to the house, found the papers in the bottom drawer exactly where Dad said they would be. I put everything he had requested in my bag. For some unexplainable reason as I sat on his bed I felt an urge to open the top drawer of Dad’s nightstand. I resisted the temptation, got up, began to walk away when I was overcome with a compulsion to turn around and look inside the drawer. I sat back down on his bed, opened the drawer. There sitting on top of his Bible was the Army Navy Football program from 1983. Army Navy was the trip/game where I first met Bobby. I sat confused, staring at the program trying to understand how it ended up in Dad’s nightstand. The football program should have been in a box along with all my other football programs and ticket stubs from all the Navy games I attended. I wondered why Dad would take this one Army Navy program over all the others and place it in his drawer. I marveled at the perfect condition of the program after twenty seven years. I placed the program in my bag to take back to the hospital with me. I needed something to hold on to that reminded me of Bobby. I was still in shock from finding the Army Navy program when I arrived at the hospital parking garage so I called Janice. I confessed all my crazy thoughts, my questions to Bobby then asked what she thought. She very bluntly stated, “I think Bobby gave you your answer. He’s here with you, now start writing.”
A few days after Dad died I was in the basement searching through boxes for my mom trying to locate the titles to the cars. In the corner next to the bar from Thailand I found the box that contained all my old football programs, ticket stubs and newspaper articles. When I opened the lid sitting on top, my Army Navy program from 1983. Mice had gotten into the box, my Army Navy program had the edges chewed off, along with several other papers, letters and photos. I had to sit down, I knew I had only bought one program in California. my sister did not go to the game, she was in Virginia. My hands began to shake as I held my program. I stared at it for a few minutes trying to make sense of what I had found. If I was holding my program, then whose program was in Dad’s nightstand and how did it get there?
I did not try to write after Dad’s death, I was exhausted both physically and mentally. I copied what I had written in my notebook to my blog. For a while it was hard getting use to not having Dad to talk to, call in the middle of the day. I kept busy catching up with work. The day after Christmas I decided it was time to write, I opened my laptop and began to write about my Nana Kay and our last Christmas together. I thought when I posted the article I had broken my writers block but I was wrong. I sat down Monday night determined to tackle the next chapter in the book. I opened my file marked Bobby. I tried to write, nothing flowed. It seemed my sentences were filled with doubts when I knew my words needed to convey the love and infatuation I felt for Bobby. Frustrated. I deleted everything I had written that night and closed my computer. I realized I was still lost, I still doubted myself, my ability to write his book. I needed to feel Bobby. It was ironic, I was having the same doubts about Bobby now that I had back in 1984-1987. I thought I was getting signs from Bobby yet I was afraid to trust the signs/him, the same way I was afraid to trust Bobby when he said to have faith in what I was feeling, what we both were feeling. Later when I let Raider out I stood on the deck looked at the stars and whispered, “Seems like nothing has changed since we were in our twenties. I am still lost and need your help.” I wasn’t sure what I was asking for but I needed something. I needed a sign. I needed to know he was looking out for me. He was, like he had promised, always going to be here for me.
The next evening, December 28, a bunch of friends and I headed to Carroll’s Creek to visit Beth while she worked. We had been hanging out for awhile when Mary suggested we leave and head to the Irish Channel in Crofton. Karen asked how I was heading to the Channel from Annapolis. I told her I was heading down 97 to 3, the way I always went home when Mary interrupted and said no D go 50 to 424 it’s much faster and easier. Eileen and I hopped in my car. I took Mary’s advice and headed down 50 to 424. Eileen and I were talking away when I looked to my left and saw a number seven outlined in Christmas lights on the firehouse on rt 424. I had never noticed the station number before. I smiled, seven was Bobby’s number when he played lacrosse. I remember telling Eileen I loved the number seven lit up, it was Bobby’s number. I even made a joke, maybe it was a sign from him.
Before heading out on Tuesday my daughter called to tell me she wasn’t feeling well, she was going to call in sick to work the next day. She asked if I would still come and watch Cole for a little while so she could sleep. I told her not a problem I would be there about eight or so. When I babysit Cole I watch Fox News until 1:30 -2:00 then I change the channel to TNT to watch the Closer than Cold Case. That afternoon Kathryn came downstairs after sleeping, commented how we did not have to watch Fox News, we could watch something else. Her subtle hint to change the channel. When I was scrolling through the guide channel Kathryn saw Man vs. Food and asked if we could watch. I believe the show was in Denver. The opening scene of the show; Adam is sitting in a booth talking to the camera about the day’s challenges ahead. The restaurant they were filming in was old. The booth walls were filled with scribble and writings. Above Adam's shoulder in huge white letters the name "Bobby". I chuckled when I saw in the same white writing in smaller print, "Will you marry me?" I watched part of the show before I left Kathryn’s house and headed home.
It was still early when I arrived home so I changed and decided to take a few laps around the neighborhood. I admit I was still chuckling inside and wondering if seeing the name Bobby on Man vs. Food was a sign. If Kathryn hadn’t been home sick I would have never watched the show. I wondered why Kathryn wanted to watch Man vs. Food at that time? She never really watched the show when she lived at home. I had to ask myself was it coincidence or sign. I was trying to convince myself it was only a coincidence when I looked up to see a couple running toward me, both wearing Navy sweatshirts. I have been taking laps for over a year in my neighborhood, the same route and not once have I ever run into this couple. I asked myself how could two people running really be a sign, it was impossible. I found myself walking verses running as I debated everything that I had seen in the past twenty four hours. I turned back onto Jamestown went over two streets and headed to the bottom court to complete my first lap. My iPod shuffled to Bruce Springsteen's, “The Rising”, I found myself picking up the pace to match the beat in the music. As the chorus began to play I looked up and saw not one but two cars with New Jersey plates, both with the same decal in the back window, “Navy Air”, parked in a row. I smiled then wondered why I had never seen the two cars before. I said out loud, "Nah can't be anything" I thought they are only visiting for the holiday, simply a coincidence. I turned the corner headed toward the court when I had to stop and catch my breath there sitting in the middle of the sidewalk directly in my path a lacrosse ball. I stopped with my hands on my knees, catching my breath and staring at the ball. I looked around to see if there were any kids around. There were none. Call me silly but I picked up the ball, tossed it high in the air, as I did I said out loud, “Thanks Bobby!” I caught the ball, looked at it for a minute, smiled, then placed it on the grass next to the sidewalk and headed home. For the next seven days, every time I turned the corner the lacrosse ball was still where I had placed it. Then day eight the ball was gone.
For some reason after those two days filled with signs or coincidences, I have been able to write. I no longer find myself filled with doubts. The words, our story seems to be flowing once again. There are still times I find myself debating whether what I was seeing were signs or simply my wishful thinking. Even as I write this, I wonder are there really signs? The Christmas lights, the cars, the lacrosse ball, etc. all can be considered coincidences, wishful thinking, nothing out of the ordinary. The only ‘sign’ I cannot rationalize, the Army Navy Program I found in Dad's nightstand. I only bought one program when I was at the game, yet for some unexplainable reason I now have two. So who knows, just maybe, I really was sent signs. Maybe signs really do exist in our crazy world.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
2011
I woke up this morning the first day of 2011, looked out the window to see overcast rainy skies. My first thought, yuck, not a great way to start the New Year. I hoped this was not a sign of the year ahead. Then I walked outside, it was warm!! The week before had been cold, I needed a jacket and gloves when I let the dog out. Today I was fine standing outside in only my sweatshirt and jeans. As I stood there waiting for Raider the realization hit me, this was actually the perfect day to start the New Year. The day had a strange harmony of good and bad. Overcast/rainy yet wonderfully warm for January. A happy medium.
Isn’t that the way life should be, a happy medium? If the sun always shined, if there was no rain then life would cease to exist. Nothing would survive. Plants, animals, humans, we all need the amazing cycle of water. The earth needs those wonderfully overcast rainy days to survive. So maybe it is also true for our being. Is it conceivable or just possible that we need the same type of balance for our soul to thrive? As harsh as it may sound, we need both happiness and heartache in order for us to experience life at it’s fullest?
If we never experienced heartbreak then there would be no love. If we never cried tears of sorrow would we ever be able to experience true joy or recognize it? If we never walked the hard road would we recognize God is always with us? Would we seek God or simply deny his existence if we never needed him? If we did not see the ugliness in the world would we no longer see all the beauty that surrounds us? Would we ever realize how lucky we are? Would we no longer appreciate the gift of life, our lives? If everything was easy would we no longer set goals, reach for what we believe is unobtainable? How sweet is it when we reach what we thought was once impossible. If it wasn’t hard getting there would we ever truly appreciate the journey?
In my life I have experienced heartache and the deepest depths of sorrow. At the time I thought I could not survive the emptiness I felt, but I did. Those tears of mourning, the heartbreak, the agony I endured gave me a strange confidence that I could survive anything. Each tear was a lesson, time is precious, life is wonderful, never take for granted today waiting for tomorrow. Most importantly never leave those three magical words unspoken even if you fear your love is unrequited. From my sadness I learned how beautiful life is. I am still experiencing it when so many are not, how lucky am I?
Last week at the Irish Channel a few of us were discussing my running, my daily laps, how some days I ignore my doctor’s advise and run when it is extremely cold. A gentleman there commented that was not smart on my part. I explained to him, I knew me better than my doctor, I knew when my lungs could handle the cold. Every day I woke up was a gift so why not push it, live life to the full extreme. He replied that was a stupid concept. Is it? Shouldn’t we all push our limits both physically and mentally? Walk an uncomfortable moment or two to expand our comfort zone? If not how will we ever know what we can truly handle? If we fear the worse will we ever discover our best?
With that in mind, this being the first day of the New Year I have decided it would be an absurd request asking God for a perfect 2011. What I will ask for tonight when I say my prayers is for life and all it’s wonderful ups and downs. Most importantly I will ask once again for God’s grace to handle everything that comes my way, the good and the bad.
Happy New Year everyone!
Isn’t that the way life should be, a happy medium? If the sun always shined, if there was no rain then life would cease to exist. Nothing would survive. Plants, animals, humans, we all need the amazing cycle of water. The earth needs those wonderfully overcast rainy days to survive. So maybe it is also true for our being. Is it conceivable or just possible that we need the same type of balance for our soul to thrive? As harsh as it may sound, we need both happiness and heartache in order for us to experience life at it’s fullest?
If we never experienced heartbreak then there would be no love. If we never cried tears of sorrow would we ever be able to experience true joy or recognize it? If we never walked the hard road would we recognize God is always with us? Would we seek God or simply deny his existence if we never needed him? If we did not see the ugliness in the world would we no longer see all the beauty that surrounds us? Would we ever realize how lucky we are? Would we no longer appreciate the gift of life, our lives? If everything was easy would we no longer set goals, reach for what we believe is unobtainable? How sweet is it when we reach what we thought was once impossible. If it wasn’t hard getting there would we ever truly appreciate the journey?
In my life I have experienced heartache and the deepest depths of sorrow. At the time I thought I could not survive the emptiness I felt, but I did. Those tears of mourning, the heartbreak, the agony I endured gave me a strange confidence that I could survive anything. Each tear was a lesson, time is precious, life is wonderful, never take for granted today waiting for tomorrow. Most importantly never leave those three magical words unspoken even if you fear your love is unrequited. From my sadness I learned how beautiful life is. I am still experiencing it when so many are not, how lucky am I?
Last week at the Irish Channel a few of us were discussing my running, my daily laps, how some days I ignore my doctor’s advise and run when it is extremely cold. A gentleman there commented that was not smart on my part. I explained to him, I knew me better than my doctor, I knew when my lungs could handle the cold. Every day I woke up was a gift so why not push it, live life to the full extreme. He replied that was a stupid concept. Is it? Shouldn’t we all push our limits both physically and mentally? Walk an uncomfortable moment or two to expand our comfort zone? If not how will we ever know what we can truly handle? If we fear the worse will we ever discover our best?
With that in mind, this being the first day of the New Year I have decided it would be an absurd request asking God for a perfect 2011. What I will ask for tonight when I say my prayers is for life and all it’s wonderful ups and downs. Most importantly I will ask once again for God’s grace to handle everything that comes my way, the good and the bad.
Happy New Year everyone!
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Inner Debate Begins: My Thoughts on Deja Vu and Parallel Lives/Universes
Last week I was talking to an old friend on face book when the conversation turned to karma. He was worried that karma was, in a way, biting him in the butt for mistakes he had made in his past. I explained to him while I may love the idea of karma roaring it’s angry head, serving justice to a few folks who I consider not the nicest of people. I can’t accept karma or believe in it. After ending our conversation my brain kept churning away at the philosophy/idea of karma. Maybe I had too much coffee that day or watched one too many episodes of LOST. My brain not only began thinking about karma, it began to debate within itself the concepts of déjà vu, the butterfly effect, parallel lives/universe and reincarnation. To me, they all seem to be, some how connected.
Who hasn’t had a déjà vu moment or had a dream that contained people we knew from our past who were suddenly in our present or future? Waking up, feeling a bit lost and confused? Even though I hold strong in my beliefs, I must confess there are times when I find myself wondering, well…what if? So I thought over the next week I would post my wonderings, informal debate within myself on these subjects. Today I thought I would begin the debate with my thoughts, questions on déjà vu and parallel lives/universe.
Déjà vu means already seen. It is the feeling that one has previously met a person, been to a place or done an act when in reality it is the first time it has happened to them. Most people have had a moment where they have felt like they are reliving an experience. Have you ever met someone for the first time, the conversation flowed easily, it feels like you have known each other your entire lives? Some experts believe this is another aspect of déjà vu. Yes I found it hard to believe there are actually experts in déjà vu. Their profession is to study déjà vu. Most experts believe we will continue to live our lives over and over until we make all the right choices, meet the correct people and live what has been determined to be our correct path. In their realm, when one experiences déjà vu, it is a lesson or person that was previously missed. When you experience déjà vu it is important to pay attention to the feeling, follow your instincts so the same mistake is not made and the experience/moment never needs to be relived. The more correct decisions one makes allows them to become one step closer to fulfilling their destiny and finally moving on to heaven.
There are scientists who believe déjà vu is easy to explain. It happens when a person's brain is out of sync. One side of the brain sees the imagine, experiences the moment before the other. The brain sees the imagine twice creating the déjà vu feeling. I can only recall two déjà vu moments in my life. One I will not share because of it’s extremely personal nature and happened very recently. The other occurred in January 1999 when I was vacationing in Oahu for the first time. As soon as I landed in Hawaii I felt very at ease, very similar to the feeling one has when one returns home. The next day my daughter and I headed to Waikiki beach, as I sat there looking out over the pacific, it felt like I had been there before with someone else. Something about the air, the beach, the sunlight, everything about that moment was very familiar and at the same time different and strange. So now I wonder, was it really déjà vu or was my brain tapping into the me in my parallel life?
In 1954, Hugh Everett III came up with a theory that there are parallel universes. These universes are just like ours with the same people but with different lives. Call it our life with an alternate ending. Everett called his theory the many worlds interpretation in quantum physics or his relative state formulation. At the time he developed his theory he was ridiculed by his peers. They concluded what he believed was nothing more than science fiction, the ramblings of a crazy man. The rejection of his peers drove him to leave the field of physics and no longer speak on his theory. Many years later, leading physicists believe that yes indeed there are many parallel universes. Some physicists believe our parallel universes are populated not with people but with extinct species and plants. While others believe that we are living duel, even triple lives all at the same time just millimeters in front of us, yet we can’t see or have knowledge of our parallel self. In this theory, in one life you may be sitting at home watching television, the you in the next universe over may have a different spouse and children and out shopping. Another parallel universe theory, when a person comes to a cross road in their life, when they have to decide which direction to take in their life, they create another universe. If they go right, another parallel universe is created where they go left. No matter what theory a physicists may believe, they all agree, the laws of physics keep us locked in our current universe unable to travel to our parallel life. Many physicists believe that when we dream, when we see ourselves with a different spouse, job, child, we are actually “in tune” with our parallel self. We are not dreaming how we wished our life had gone but rather we are seeing what our other self is doing/living in our parallel life. Our bodies might not be able to cross the laws of physics but our brain can. Our brain and our soul are always in sync with our other self if we allow them to be.
So if this theory is true, do we have to be asleep to see our parallel self? While on vacation this past summer, Cole was having trouble falling asleep. I turned on music and began to slowly dance with him, hoping to rock him to sleep. As I held him next to me, I closed my eyes. When I did I saw me when I was younger, in a room I had never been before. "Watching myself" I knew I was holding a baby boy, my son. A son I never had in this life. As I danced with him, I saw a familiar man standing in the doorway watching the two of us. He was smiling with pride as I held our son. I could see his eyes light up when we made eye contact. I heard my daughter Kathryn yell “Daddy’s home” as she jumped into his arms. He caught her, as he held her close he asked how her day at kindergarten had been? I knew what I was seeing was not possible but for those few moments, while my eyes were closed, what I was watching felt real. Was what I saw/felt simply a day dream or was I able for those few moments to somehow connect with my parallel life where I had taken a different path in my life.
Fans of LOST spent the last two seasons tracking the parallel lives of Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hugo and the rest of the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. They traveled between life on the island after the plane crash and the life they had if/when the plane safely landed in California. Many of us watched week after week, anxiously waiting for the two worlds to collide, for the final resolution. Watching the show I am sure countless fans wondered if we all have some sort of parallel life? The show made me wonder, what if we do have a parallel life, but not as the leading physicists think. What if our parallel life is actually spiritual? As I interpret the show LOST, the writers I believe suggest, we are all in fact living parallel lives, one here on earth, another in purgatory, eventually one in heaven or hell, depending on the choices we make. The character of Desmond was able to tap into his parallel life and take action in this universe to change the outcome of his other universe enabling him to make his final journey to heaven. The two characters who portrayed my thoughts on realizing heaven are Sun and Jin. They die in a sub off the island while their parallel selves continue to live in the other universe. Many episodes later, as Sun is having a sonogram, the two are 'awakened' to their dual lives. They are suddenly aware they have already had their child, they have a daughter. They have seen the “light”, they know in the other life they went on to heaven together. They are no longer worried about life and it's eventual outcome. They are at peace. Sun and Jin understand and are prepared to move to the next phase of their life together, heaven, eternity. Sun and Jin make me wonder if the creators of LOST believe when we are awakened to our dual lives, the other part of us, we are ready to relinquish our self, merge together and move on to the next phase of life, heaven?
Is it possible when people say they see their life flash before their eyes before they die, they are actually seeing their parallel lives merge? The calm peaceful feeling they experience is the acceptance of our split selves finally joining? Is it really possible that there are multiple universes. multiple us? Or are people just using crazy ideas to justify insane dreams and wishful thinking?
I must ask is déjà vu real? Have you ever experienced it? Do you believe in a parallel life/universe? Any LOST fans out there? Did you read the writers theories/beliefs differently?
Who hasn’t had a déjà vu moment or had a dream that contained people we knew from our past who were suddenly in our present or future? Waking up, feeling a bit lost and confused? Even though I hold strong in my beliefs, I must confess there are times when I find myself wondering, well…what if? So I thought over the next week I would post my wonderings, informal debate within myself on these subjects. Today I thought I would begin the debate with my thoughts, questions on déjà vu and parallel lives/universe.
Déjà vu means already seen. It is the feeling that one has previously met a person, been to a place or done an act when in reality it is the first time it has happened to them. Most people have had a moment where they have felt like they are reliving an experience. Have you ever met someone for the first time, the conversation flowed easily, it feels like you have known each other your entire lives? Some experts believe this is another aspect of déjà vu. Yes I found it hard to believe there are actually experts in déjà vu. Their profession is to study déjà vu. Most experts believe we will continue to live our lives over and over until we make all the right choices, meet the correct people and live what has been determined to be our correct path. In their realm, when one experiences déjà vu, it is a lesson or person that was previously missed. When you experience déjà vu it is important to pay attention to the feeling, follow your instincts so the same mistake is not made and the experience/moment never needs to be relived. The more correct decisions one makes allows them to become one step closer to fulfilling their destiny and finally moving on to heaven.
There are scientists who believe déjà vu is easy to explain. It happens when a person's brain is out of sync. One side of the brain sees the imagine, experiences the moment before the other. The brain sees the imagine twice creating the déjà vu feeling. I can only recall two déjà vu moments in my life. One I will not share because of it’s extremely personal nature and happened very recently. The other occurred in January 1999 when I was vacationing in Oahu for the first time. As soon as I landed in Hawaii I felt very at ease, very similar to the feeling one has when one returns home. The next day my daughter and I headed to Waikiki beach, as I sat there looking out over the pacific, it felt like I had been there before with someone else. Something about the air, the beach, the sunlight, everything about that moment was very familiar and at the same time different and strange. So now I wonder, was it really déjà vu or was my brain tapping into the me in my parallel life?
In 1954, Hugh Everett III came up with a theory that there are parallel universes. These universes are just like ours with the same people but with different lives. Call it our life with an alternate ending. Everett called his theory the many worlds interpretation in quantum physics or his relative state formulation. At the time he developed his theory he was ridiculed by his peers. They concluded what he believed was nothing more than science fiction, the ramblings of a crazy man. The rejection of his peers drove him to leave the field of physics and no longer speak on his theory. Many years later, leading physicists believe that yes indeed there are many parallel universes. Some physicists believe our parallel universes are populated not with people but with extinct species and plants. While others believe that we are living duel, even triple lives all at the same time just millimeters in front of us, yet we can’t see or have knowledge of our parallel self. In this theory, in one life you may be sitting at home watching television, the you in the next universe over may have a different spouse and children and out shopping. Another parallel universe theory, when a person comes to a cross road in their life, when they have to decide which direction to take in their life, they create another universe. If they go right, another parallel universe is created where they go left. No matter what theory a physicists may believe, they all agree, the laws of physics keep us locked in our current universe unable to travel to our parallel life. Many physicists believe that when we dream, when we see ourselves with a different spouse, job, child, we are actually “in tune” with our parallel self. We are not dreaming how we wished our life had gone but rather we are seeing what our other self is doing/living in our parallel life. Our bodies might not be able to cross the laws of physics but our brain can. Our brain and our soul are always in sync with our other self if we allow them to be.
So if this theory is true, do we have to be asleep to see our parallel self? While on vacation this past summer, Cole was having trouble falling asleep. I turned on music and began to slowly dance with him, hoping to rock him to sleep. As I held him next to me, I closed my eyes. When I did I saw me when I was younger, in a room I had never been before. "Watching myself" I knew I was holding a baby boy, my son. A son I never had in this life. As I danced with him, I saw a familiar man standing in the doorway watching the two of us. He was smiling with pride as I held our son. I could see his eyes light up when we made eye contact. I heard my daughter Kathryn yell “Daddy’s home” as she jumped into his arms. He caught her, as he held her close he asked how her day at kindergarten had been? I knew what I was seeing was not possible but for those few moments, while my eyes were closed, what I was watching felt real. Was what I saw/felt simply a day dream or was I able for those few moments to somehow connect with my parallel life where I had taken a different path in my life.
Fans of LOST spent the last two seasons tracking the parallel lives of Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hugo and the rest of the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. They traveled between life on the island after the plane crash and the life they had if/when the plane safely landed in California. Many of us watched week after week, anxiously waiting for the two worlds to collide, for the final resolution. Watching the show I am sure countless fans wondered if we all have some sort of parallel life? The show made me wonder, what if we do have a parallel life, but not as the leading physicists think. What if our parallel life is actually spiritual? As I interpret the show LOST, the writers I believe suggest, we are all in fact living parallel lives, one here on earth, another in purgatory, eventually one in heaven or hell, depending on the choices we make. The character of Desmond was able to tap into his parallel life and take action in this universe to change the outcome of his other universe enabling him to make his final journey to heaven. The two characters who portrayed my thoughts on realizing heaven are Sun and Jin. They die in a sub off the island while their parallel selves continue to live in the other universe. Many episodes later, as Sun is having a sonogram, the two are 'awakened' to their dual lives. They are suddenly aware they have already had their child, they have a daughter. They have seen the “light”, they know in the other life they went on to heaven together. They are no longer worried about life and it's eventual outcome. They are at peace. Sun and Jin understand and are prepared to move to the next phase of their life together, heaven, eternity. Sun and Jin make me wonder if the creators of LOST believe when we are awakened to our dual lives, the other part of us, we are ready to relinquish our self, merge together and move on to the next phase of life, heaven?
Is it possible when people say they see their life flash before their eyes before they die, they are actually seeing their parallel lives merge? The calm peaceful feeling they experience is the acceptance of our split selves finally joining? Is it really possible that there are multiple universes. multiple us? Or are people just using crazy ideas to justify insane dreams and wishful thinking?
I must ask is déjà vu real? Have you ever experienced it? Do you believe in a parallel life/universe? Any LOST fans out there? Did you read the writers theories/beliefs differently?
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The Demons Within
Demons, we all have them; they are our scars, our baggage, and the misconceptions we hold of our selves. The things we carry within our soul that leaves us with self doubt and insecurities. Even the most self assured person has a demon or two. Some of us are better at hiding our fears than others.
Some demons we acquired when we were younger. They were cast upon us by thoughtless comments and actions of others. Aquired through expectations of another placed upon us that were never met. For one reason or another, something in our childhood that may have seemed insignificant to another, left an indelible mark on our personality that we continue to carry through our adult life.
The origins of some childhood demons are easy to trace. The constant praise placed on one child over the other for their looks, grades, friends. The constant scolding, the perpetual question of a parent to a child, “Why can’t you be more like your sister/brother?” The parent never comprehending how that one question repeated over and over during a childhood could create a demon so large one could lose their perception of who they are or how they are genuinely seen by others. Spending a childhood and often a lifetime, always seeing their sibling as the perfect child, perfect student, perfect person, failing to see in our selves what makes us just as accomplished.
Still other demons have manifested in our being by past admirers, sweethearts, lovers. The person who we confessed our inner secrets/desires to. The person we trusted like no other. Who in return professed their unconditional love, promising they would never leave, they were our future. For a time they were the center of our universe. Yet one day we woke to find they were no longer there. Our world was shattered. The inevitable questions, if they loved me, why did they leave me? What was so wrong with me? The questions they left unanswered, the trust that was broken, the blame we placed on our self, can at times create a scar that burns the deepest and hurts the most. It is this scar that over time turns into the ugliest of demons. Some people are lucky, they have never felt or experienced those lingering questions of self doubt/self worth. If we are lucky, in time we realize that maybe there was nothing wrong with us, it was just the time or circumstance, and some things are truly not meant to be. With that we can cast the demon to the wind. We are left in peace to try to find love again. While others will have the demon of self doubt haunt them their entire life, never finding a truce that would allow them to find their happiness, their peace.
We fool ourselves into believing we have buried most of our demons deep inside us. However, no matter how hard we try to hide them, they reveal themselves when we are most fragile. When we are confused, afraid to show who we really are, or how we really feel. It is the demon of “Self protection” at its’ worse. We show arrogance when we are feeling insecure. We seem cold/aloof when we are afraid to let someone get close to us. We appear to be uncaring, when in fact we are hurt, pained. We are unwilling to expose who we really are or how we truly feel, afraid if they “see” us, we will be rejected. We carry the misperception of how we are viewed, how we are honestly seen by others. So we delude ourselves, we pretend to be someone else. Failing to perceive, everyone has imperfections. No one is looking for that perfect person. Perfection is in itself is more or less boring. Our imperfections if we allow them to, can be the most beautiful part of our being. Demons and all, we are all pretty amazing.
To battle our demons, to cast them aside, we must first realize our demons are open wounds that continue to drain us of our self esteem, infect the soul with self doubt. We must recognize and acknowledge them. Realize, no matter how hard we try to ignore our demons; they have revealed themselves at one time or another to our friends. Sometimes the only way to exercise them, rid them from our lives, is to expose ourselves, demons and all, openly to those around us. Simple as this might seem, learn to always be our self. Some people when confronted with whom we really are; will smile recognizing our fears as the same demons they carry. Still other people will leave, not liking the “real” you, preferring the fictitious identity. They will not want to expend any effort into helping you become stronger, free you from your scars, they like you at your weakest.
If we are lucky, we will find that someone who will love us so much, no matter how hard we try to push them aside through stupid actions, harsh words, they stand fast. They see our demons; recognize them as scars from our past. They don’t see them as ugly but a part of what makes us unique. They clearly see all our imperfections and still love us. They are our steadfast lover/friend who time and time again climb our wall of insecurities, kicking a few bricks out along the way, demonstrating nothing is insurmountable if we have faith in ourselves. They believe in us when we have lost sight of who we are. They see past our instabilities, our vulnerabilities, our flaws, our self doubt, our mistakes…they take that precarious walk time and time again never giving up on us. They are our lifeline to reality.
How do we survive our demons? Acknowledge that demons are a part of everyone’s life for one reason or another. No one goes through life unscarred. The only way to survive your demons is to accept and embrace them as your own. They make you the unabashed individual that you are. Seek out that steadfast friend. The person who, when possible, will help you cast out some of your demons. Free you of your scars. When needed, help you to accept and form a truce with the demons that will always be a part of you. Allow you to see yourself through their eyes. Teach you to love yourself, demons and all, they way they do.
Some demons we acquired when we were younger. They were cast upon us by thoughtless comments and actions of others. Aquired through expectations of another placed upon us that were never met. For one reason or another, something in our childhood that may have seemed insignificant to another, left an indelible mark on our personality that we continue to carry through our adult life.
The origins of some childhood demons are easy to trace. The constant praise placed on one child over the other for their looks, grades, friends. The constant scolding, the perpetual question of a parent to a child, “Why can’t you be more like your sister/brother?” The parent never comprehending how that one question repeated over and over during a childhood could create a demon so large one could lose their perception of who they are or how they are genuinely seen by others. Spending a childhood and often a lifetime, always seeing their sibling as the perfect child, perfect student, perfect person, failing to see in our selves what makes us just as accomplished.
Still other demons have manifested in our being by past admirers, sweethearts, lovers. The person who we confessed our inner secrets/desires to. The person we trusted like no other. Who in return professed their unconditional love, promising they would never leave, they were our future. For a time they were the center of our universe. Yet one day we woke to find they were no longer there. Our world was shattered. The inevitable questions, if they loved me, why did they leave me? What was so wrong with me? The questions they left unanswered, the trust that was broken, the blame we placed on our self, can at times create a scar that burns the deepest and hurts the most. It is this scar that over time turns into the ugliest of demons. Some people are lucky, they have never felt or experienced those lingering questions of self doubt/self worth. If we are lucky, in time we realize that maybe there was nothing wrong with us, it was just the time or circumstance, and some things are truly not meant to be. With that we can cast the demon to the wind. We are left in peace to try to find love again. While others will have the demon of self doubt haunt them their entire life, never finding a truce that would allow them to find their happiness, their peace.
We fool ourselves into believing we have buried most of our demons deep inside us. However, no matter how hard we try to hide them, they reveal themselves when we are most fragile. When we are confused, afraid to show who we really are, or how we really feel. It is the demon of “Self protection” at its’ worse. We show arrogance when we are feeling insecure. We seem cold/aloof when we are afraid to let someone get close to us. We appear to be uncaring, when in fact we are hurt, pained. We are unwilling to expose who we really are or how we truly feel, afraid if they “see” us, we will be rejected. We carry the misperception of how we are viewed, how we are honestly seen by others. So we delude ourselves, we pretend to be someone else. Failing to perceive, everyone has imperfections. No one is looking for that perfect person. Perfection is in itself is more or less boring. Our imperfections if we allow them to, can be the most beautiful part of our being. Demons and all, we are all pretty amazing.
To battle our demons, to cast them aside, we must first realize our demons are open wounds that continue to drain us of our self esteem, infect the soul with self doubt. We must recognize and acknowledge them. Realize, no matter how hard we try to ignore our demons; they have revealed themselves at one time or another to our friends. Sometimes the only way to exercise them, rid them from our lives, is to expose ourselves, demons and all, openly to those around us. Simple as this might seem, learn to always be our self. Some people when confronted with whom we really are; will smile recognizing our fears as the same demons they carry. Still other people will leave, not liking the “real” you, preferring the fictitious identity. They will not want to expend any effort into helping you become stronger, free you from your scars, they like you at your weakest.
If we are lucky, we will find that someone who will love us so much, no matter how hard we try to push them aside through stupid actions, harsh words, they stand fast. They see our demons; recognize them as scars from our past. They don’t see them as ugly but a part of what makes us unique. They clearly see all our imperfections and still love us. They are our steadfast lover/friend who time and time again climb our wall of insecurities, kicking a few bricks out along the way, demonstrating nothing is insurmountable if we have faith in ourselves. They believe in us when we have lost sight of who we are. They see past our instabilities, our vulnerabilities, our flaws, our self doubt, our mistakes…they take that precarious walk time and time again never giving up on us. They are our lifeline to reality.
How do we survive our demons? Acknowledge that demons are a part of everyone’s life for one reason or another. No one goes through life unscarred. The only way to survive your demons is to accept and embrace them as your own. They make you the unabashed individual that you are. Seek out that steadfast friend. The person who, when possible, will help you cast out some of your demons. Free you of your scars. When needed, help you to accept and form a truce with the demons that will always be a part of you. Allow you to see yourself through their eyes. Teach you to love yourself, demons and all, they way they do.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Late night thoughts from Facebook Conversations
Like so many others, I have often pondered if I could go back and redo just one moment, would I do it? Would it change who I am today, or where I am…or would it have no effect what so ever? We have all heard the saying if it was meant to be, it will be. But what if it was meant to be actually depended on that one moment? Your “true” fate was forever changed because you were too afraid to act, to confront, to say how you really felt? If you knew the path you are on today, was not your chosen path, would you go back and alter it, in effect change who and where you are today? We are who we are because of the roads we have traveled. But what if we took the wrong crossroad?
If we missed our destiny in the past is it forever gone, or is it possible to get that moment, that chance a second time? Or has our destiny all along been to make a mistake, then take the second chance? If that second chance appeared at your door, would it be just a coincidence or fate knocking, trying to wake you up to what you didn’t see the first time around? Is it fate trying to steer you to your proper path, your destiny. Would you recognize it? Would you be strong enough to take the second chance, or stay content never risking anything to be happy?
Are we meant to settle, or are we meant to be happy? If we take that second chance, risk it all, are we hurting those around us or are we releasing them to where they should be? Letting them discover their true fate? By hurting them now, will we in the long run help them to become happier? Or are we fooling ourselves, maybe they feel the same way, just too afraid to utter the unspoken truth, the whisper in the darkness. They too have settled so far, accepted what is, like you, too afraid to seek their own happiness.
How do you determine what is truly your second chance and what is just wishful thinking? A longing for what might have been, the never knowing hurt, want, lust? Is what you are feeling strong enough to risk it all? Do you follow the voice of reason in your head or the feeling in your heart? Which is the better guide? Does our heart always know what is best for us? Is what we are feeling real, or an illusion from the past, unfinished business that lacked closure? Are we smart enough to know the difference?
We have all heard the saying you only live once. There are no second chances when you are dead. With that knowledge do you take more risks, take more chances or continue on the same path? Do we owe it to ourselves to strive for more, reach higher, discover new dreams, find our own happiness…or do we owe it to everyone around us to just be happy in what we have? How much do we owe them (our family) verses how much do we owe ourselves? Realizing they can never genuinely be happy, unless we ourselves are. What really is happy? Can anyone truly define it, or do we each have to determine our own definition?
With the realization that we are now closer to death then we are to birth, this seems to be a time in our lives to look back and reflect. To question where we are, to wonder is this as good as it gets, or is there something or someone better out there waiting for us? Wonder more than once, did we miss our one chance at happily ever after? If so do we have and take that second chance? Or is it possible we are just not smart enough to realize we are living the happily ever after, it is just not what we thought it would be. Will we ever know the difference?
If we missed our destiny in the past is it forever gone, or is it possible to get that moment, that chance a second time? Or has our destiny all along been to make a mistake, then take the second chance? If that second chance appeared at your door, would it be just a coincidence or fate knocking, trying to wake you up to what you didn’t see the first time around? Is it fate trying to steer you to your proper path, your destiny. Would you recognize it? Would you be strong enough to take the second chance, or stay content never risking anything to be happy?
Are we meant to settle, or are we meant to be happy? If we take that second chance, risk it all, are we hurting those around us or are we releasing them to where they should be? Letting them discover their true fate? By hurting them now, will we in the long run help them to become happier? Or are we fooling ourselves, maybe they feel the same way, just too afraid to utter the unspoken truth, the whisper in the darkness. They too have settled so far, accepted what is, like you, too afraid to seek their own happiness.
How do you determine what is truly your second chance and what is just wishful thinking? A longing for what might have been, the never knowing hurt, want, lust? Is what you are feeling strong enough to risk it all? Do you follow the voice of reason in your head or the feeling in your heart? Which is the better guide? Does our heart always know what is best for us? Is what we are feeling real, or an illusion from the past, unfinished business that lacked closure? Are we smart enough to know the difference?
We have all heard the saying you only live once. There are no second chances when you are dead. With that knowledge do you take more risks, take more chances or continue on the same path? Do we owe it to ourselves to strive for more, reach higher, discover new dreams, find our own happiness…or do we owe it to everyone around us to just be happy in what we have? How much do we owe them (our family) verses how much do we owe ourselves? Realizing they can never genuinely be happy, unless we ourselves are. What really is happy? Can anyone truly define it, or do we each have to determine our own definition?
With the realization that we are now closer to death then we are to birth, this seems to be a time in our lives to look back and reflect. To question where we are, to wonder is this as good as it gets, or is there something or someone better out there waiting for us? Wonder more than once, did we miss our one chance at happily ever after? If so do we have and take that second chance? Or is it possible we are just not smart enough to realize we are living the happily ever after, it is just not what we thought it would be. Will we ever know the difference?
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