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Where most things are concerned, simplicity is key. The reason being is that where most things are applied, simplicity is scarce. Between the concern, and the application lie the teachers; chroniclers of understanding.
Yep. Thats what they say. Im still not sure who they are? But I'm fairly certain that it would be justice to throw “they” off of a cliff. Right place at the wrong time. Or Wrong place at the right time. Connecting with someone in the same area code...at the same time...under ideal circumstances. Yeah...that happens to me all the time.😐 Heck, I've even been born over 20 years too soon for that. Or 5 to 6,000 miles too far away...supposing that distance is also relative to time...and timing. A reciprocity of feeling...a matter of timing. Ive been hurt before...yeah...me too. If your over the age 20 (hell, it may even be 12 at this point) you've probably been hurt in a relationship. Everyone is nice in the beginning. Seriously? What planet does that happen on? It's 2019 on earth...nice people are about as common as a green sky. And lets be honest here...have you EVER met anyone like me? Anybody?! I couldnt fake it if I wanted to. I am compelled to be me, even at the realization that probably won't be to my benefit. I mean I would love to be someone else. Well, what I would really like is to be appreciated for what I know are virtues instead of them being assumed that they're disingenuous motivations to have sex. Sex?! I haven't had sex in 6 years. Honestly, at a few weeks shy of 56 years old, and given the sheer lack of prospects (and therefore opportunities in my general vicinity) I've kind relegated that to a bucket list item...somewhere either right above or below climbing Everest. I've just always thought it would be nice to care for someone, and maybe in turn be cared for a bit myself...and some good conversation. And not just the typical how was your day (and all that drama) bs that goes into conversational relationships when you've run out of real things to talk about. Yeah, hell...might as well toss that on the bucket list too with Everest, and Consensual physical intimacy...which is a big deal to specify in these times we live in. Of course at this point, if someone accused me sexual assault...I would probably thank them for thinking of me...as soon as my stomach quit cramping from laughing so hard. Anyway...timing...stinks. Mostly.
“Sometimes monsters are invisible, and sometimes demons attack you from the inside. Just because you cannot see the claws and the teeth does not mean they aren't ripping through me. Pain does not need to be seen to be felt.” - .Emm Roy Sometimes? It always attacks you from the inside. Even from other people...Its never that people talked about you, its your perception and context of what they said that drives you crazy. The voices in your head, and all. And the physical abuses...that pain is a distant memory...the injuries, and the lies told to conceal them and their truth. I can remember them all in detail, but they are the dull throb of an old injury. If you look close you may see a scar. The verbal, and emotional stuff. It is whispered in my ear as if it were just spoken. My inner demons know the script well...I imagine several of them helped my mother write it. It hurts as much in recall as it did the first time it was spoken over me. Some pain just hurts...other types of pain change you...and sometimes it's the mold you're cast from. And from that I whisper back to those demons in the darkness: “Ain't found a way to kill me yet.” - Rooster by Alice In Chains Most of my life, all i wanted to be was normal; status quo; invisible. And i wanted that because i was lead to be believe that I was below normal; intellectually impaired; learning disabled. Einstein said “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” I spent a long time as a fish trying to climb a tree. And then once I finally hit the water, there was the church, trying to tell me how to swim. Not that they actually knew how, but they read a book about it... OR If I had enough faith I could swim...not the way I was swimming mind you, but the way they wanted me too. Which leads me to one of my favorite religiously offensive quotes: “Don't piss on my head and tell me it's raining.” And if you can't tell by now, church leadership has labled me Unteachable, rebellious, refuses to submit to authority, and therefore Heretical And I am quite pleased with those labels. Of course based on their own flawed theology, God allowed me to be formed into the heretical, unteachable, rebellious prick I am today for a reason...so, if its a problem...they should talk to Him. And the reason I don't submit to “authority” is because the only authority I know is named Jesus, and the rest of these “leaders” are just selling AMWAY as far as I'm concerned. See? Broken.
“There was no one to tell and nowhere to hide. I kept the pain to myself while a part of me died.” I dont know who wrote that, but it's accurate. I was born into it. Being funny, or entertaining was my coping mechanism for the abuse. And yeah, you hide it because it's always “your fault”. Being funny helps to not only hide your stupidity, ineptitude, or eccentricity (being a “weird little shit”), it also insulates you by creating the illusion that people are laughing with you, and not at you...somewhat. The problem with that is, you can wear as thick coat as you can find, but you will still shiver in the chill of Winter. And the thing with being funny, its not only not fun (though it is purposeful) it gives you an insight into irony and cynicism...even at a very early age. I read the other day that emotional pain lasts ONLY 10-20 minutes, and that anything over that is just the individual overthinking. Obviously written by some asshole who 1) Doesn't understand the theory of relativity on a practical level. And 2) How do you not overthink when you're 2 or 3 and have no one else to talk to?! I had a well meaning person of faith tell me that God “allowed” me to go through that to prepare me for His purpose. Who tells someone that? That took awhile to get past the idea that God allowed me to go through some horrific shit as a child so it would toughen me up for some more horrific shit that He wants me to go through for some reason known only to the creator of the universe?! Oh yeah...sign me up for some of that. And while I eventually got past that little nugget of wisdom from “the Saints”, I still flinch inwardly every time something catastrophic happens in my life. “Emotional abuse is a chronic attack on a childs self esteem intentionally causing psychological pain. The failure to provide a developmentally appropriate and supportive environment so that a child can develop their potential.” Develop.Their.Potential. However, what if potential is developed out of whatever life experience makes of you? Think about it...the person you are...how you process and handle situations...there is potential in that to become the personified truth of that sum total of experience. It may lead you to the CEO of a corporation; the POTUS; a firefighter; a doctor or a nurse...or it may lead you to become an addict or a dealer; a mass murderer or career politician. So, while I cannot believe that God would “allow” me to suffer as a child to prepare me for some predestined mission He has had for me since before the creation of reality...I can completely get behind Him looking at the broken, jigsaw puzzle of my psyche, and going “I know exactly where to put you”. And that is something far outside the westernized, prosperity driven, cookie cutter approach to discipleship and faith as we've been taught. What if all of us are not here to behave in the manner that the church (and not God) deem acceptable? Some of us were made to run toward trouble, not away from it. Not because those who run from are cowardly, but because those that run toward were made for such moments. Some flee and pray, and some pray while they fight. Maybe thats what purpose is? And what about when bad things to happen others? Is murder or rape a part of the purpose of God? Of course not. It is however the result of experience driving an individual toward an unhealthy purpose (of self or even self loathing) where they cannot be purposed by Divinity (and though not purposed in the moment) they may be later repurposed. But in that, God may orchestrate even greater beauty and purpose in others by how they are affected with loss and brokenness. At least that's how I see it today, and right now...we'll see how and what the day holds.
The grass shines in the early morning with dew. It is a long way from where I am to the edge of the field where the woods begin. However, I am closer than I have ever been. It seems that the woods have always been the destination, and that crossing the field was the way it was done. I'm not sure if I was told that, or if it has just been my assumption from the beginning?! The woods call to me...though I have never been there...what mysteries they must hold? And what may lie beyong the woods? The clutch of trees that mark the forest, they hold their secrets firm. And as I search the line of wood to reveal some clue...they whisper and laugh; they call for me to come closer. I am still way too far within the field, and my eyes are not as keen as when I began. Though I am the closest I've ever been to my destination, I know no more about it than when I began. Yes, I am much older now, and there still seems so far to go. I feel tired to a point that I've begun to wonder whether I will ever reach the trees, and walk among the woods. But onward I walk still. But the field itself, it is its own. Though it may appear flat and smooth, I have stumbled more than a few. At times it has seemed all uphill, until I tripped going down. I suppose the lesson is not to focus too far ahead, because there is attention required here...in this right now moment. Lest I fall again...and again So, there it is...another step...and another...
How it is that the entirety of western civilization, and especially western Judeo Christian belief rests solidly within the comforting fiction of a life here consisting of perpetual bliss? That is a promise of the next world, but surely not this one. We persevere trials and difficulties under the guise of “things will get better” or the even more rueful “things cannot get any worse”. The peaks and valleys of life are such that one must find the appreciation of joy wherever they can; often times wiping the grime from it as a trinket of buried treasure in the ruins of some distant culture. Catastrophe is not so much a burden. It sets us collectively as a flint about the necessity of recovery...we bury the dead...mourn the loss...and do as best we can to reset the normality of our lives. And that in itself is the rub... Our problem as such is not so much the acquiescence of tragedy, but the perseverence of Banality While desiring order, and normality, it is the prolonged exposure of routine we abhor. Life becomes a litany of responsibilities and lists; the sameness of all, and everything, and everyone...and we exist in absolute fear and loathing of it. Its why we change churches, hairstyles, cars, spouses...its why we attend conferences, read all the selfhelp books, and change the color of our houses. That in the effort to change all of the outwardly obvious signs of our banal existence, we might find some key to perpetual happiness. As if such a thing is found on a map?! We seek to discover a distraction from ourselves; our sameness; our quite ordinary, and unextraordinary lives. We desire to be entertained...instantly, perpetually on demand. And that is a weakness. “Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.” - Theodore Roosevelt Its not that I'm pessimistic, or downtrodden. I just dont expect life to keep me giddy 24/7. I am not a member of the Stepford Faithful...its okay to have a bad day...or a boring day. I don't think I need to spout rainbows of every little detail of my life. Honestly, there is the vast majority of my life thats just...boring. And that's okay too. It seems a contradiction that we so admire, and idolize those who accomplish through hardwork and sacrifice, while we ourselves are superficially contented to laze about as “armchair experts” of those we worship. Yes, thats a jab There is a lot about life and living that is routine. It is the very definition of banality. You are not dying. You are not depressed. You are certainly not persecuted. You are bored, and you're lazy, and you lack initiative. We expect life to be miraculous, but its supposed to be routine...so that when the miraculous happens, we can recognize the difference between it and entertainment without distraction. Prayer is routine. Study is routine. Practice and training are routine. Diet is routine. Work and preparation are routine. Responsibility is routine. If you want to reap the reward of excellence, you must be forged and formed in routine. The best musicians were not created on the stage in front of thousands, but in the practice room. If the play is the thing, it was the rehersal that made it. Those who hear from God with the greatest clarity, learned the sound of His voice in the prayer closet, not the pulpit. Excellence is finding the extraordinary among the routine...its joy is realizing it was “hidden” there all along. Everyday, I passed Christ on the way to work, and never realized He was there. Every single day, I missed an opportunity to meet Jesus. And I missed it because that opportunity was disguised as routine and I was more interested in being entertained than I was in being filled. And as we say: There's that.
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