We start out proud, noble even, with high principles, higher standards and specific goals to be .... well, to be the very best us we can be. With that in mind, we want to surround ourselves with the very best too -- the best life has to offer, not necessarily always in material goods but definitely in the people with whom we associate.
We look at those ahead of us on this path with disdain. We see only that they don't seem to care, that they don't seem to strive, that they settle for less than their best and less than the best of others. Why don't they care more about how they look? Who they hang out with? The women they date? The woman they married? The work they do?
We don't see the compromises they made, in good faith and with the best of intentions, having weighed the options and the realities of life. They were like us once, looking at the world and seeing a place they could make their mark, a lasting, indelible mark that others would see and strive for. They, too, wanted to be an example to everyone around them, to the rest of their world. But even the best of them, the shining stars and the achievers, have given up some of their ideals, some of their principles, parts of their very souls, to simply get where they are, no matter where that is.
If they look back they can see the steps they made along the way. There are no huge deviations, no massive swings from one direction to another and yet clearly they have wound up far short of the mark they set, the objective that was in their sights when they first began. But just like a bullet shot through a strong crosswind, they were aimed at one target and wound up hitting someplace else entirely.
Each of those deviations, each of those small turns, came from a decision that was made with the best of intentions and the wisdom of their time and age. They weighed the pluses and minuses and chose the route that seemed best. And yet each one slowly and measurably moved them farther and farther from their once-pure goal, when what they had hoped was that it would bring them closer.
And then one day, they looked back at where they started, remembered where they had wanted to be and realized that they had missed their mark, undershot their goal. They were not where or what they wanted to be. And they could see no way to get there.
That stark reality hits like a punch to the gut, taking the air right out of the lungs. It sucks the wind from your sails and drags you down further until it is hard to keep striving, keep pushing, keep your eyes on a prize you now know will never be yours, no matter what you do.
And before you even know it, you are just going through the motions, just coasting, just riding the tide. You no longer swim against the current, no longer fight the pull of the ocean, no longer try to keep from drowning under a wave of utter mediocrity and ignominy. Like a lemming, you just follow the crowd as you all march along to the edge of the cliff, heading to a certain and closing death.
They could break away, turn back, or simply just stop where they are. But that sometimes takes an effort that is hard to summon when life, disappointment, rejection, loss of love and a lifetime of defeats, big and small, have worn out the heart, the drive, the ambition. It is difficult to behave like an individual again after decades of conforming, fitting in, trying to be part of the team.
So instead of disdaining them, these forerunners and forefathers, consider their experience, their history as a cautionary tale. That, too, could happen to you. The only question is: Will you let it? Or will you be the one to swim against the tide, to forego the compromises and to always be true to yourself in all things?
Friday, June 14, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
A TRIP WORTH TAKING?
The sun rises.
The sun sets.
In daylight, in darkness, I simply try to plant one foot in front of the other, taking step after step, never certain where I am heading. All I can do is hope that each step brings me closer to the one I love, rather than taking me that much farther from her door.
The only thing I know is that each step, each day, each moment takes me that much closer to my own end. Whether or not the path of love will intersect with that march toward death I do not know. All I can do is keep taking each step, one at a time, and trust that where I am heading, besides my own demise, will be some small junction with love and, more importantly, the woman I love with all my heart.
I can only hope she will be along my route because my path, like my destination, is hidden from my eyes. In fact, I cannot see but an inch in front of my face in any direction, so I cannot tell if I am walking toward her or away from her. I listen intently for her voice, smell the air for her scent, reach out in a circle around me trying to touch her, but I find nothing. Just emptiness.
From time to time something trips me, I stumble and fall. But I rise each time and, with increasing care, continue to take step after tremulous step, uncertain if I am stepping along a plain or about to walk off a cliff. I can't be sure if my next step will walk me right out of this world or take me right back into her life.
Then again, maybe I am just on one big treadmill, walking in place, getting nowhere.
Step after step.
Just hoping I am walking toward love and not away from it.
Because love is the only destination worth the trip.
The sun sets.
In daylight, in darkness, I simply try to plant one foot in front of the other, taking step after step, never certain where I am heading. All I can do is hope that each step brings me closer to the one I love, rather than taking me that much farther from her door.
The only thing I know is that each step, each day, each moment takes me that much closer to my own end. Whether or not the path of love will intersect with that march toward death I do not know. All I can do is keep taking each step, one at a time, and trust that where I am heading, besides my own demise, will be some small junction with love and, more importantly, the woman I love with all my heart.
I can only hope she will be along my route because my path, like my destination, is hidden from my eyes. In fact, I cannot see but an inch in front of my face in any direction, so I cannot tell if I am walking toward her or away from her. I listen intently for her voice, smell the air for her scent, reach out in a circle around me trying to touch her, but I find nothing. Just emptiness.
From time to time something trips me, I stumble and fall. But I rise each time and, with increasing care, continue to take step after tremulous step, uncertain if I am stepping along a plain or about to walk off a cliff. I can't be sure if my next step will walk me right out of this world or take me right back into her life.
Then again, maybe I am just on one big treadmill, walking in place, getting nowhere.
Step after step.
Just hoping I am walking toward love and not away from it.
Because love is the only destination worth the trip.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
IN PRAISE OF MOTHERS
For most of us, tomorrow is a significant day, either because you are a mother or because you had one. And at least there is one day each year set aside to honor these remarkable women.
Now, I am not claiming every mother is a Madonna, nor that every woman is a saint, just that women tend to be far more saintly and a lot closer to the Blessed Mother than I or any other man could ever get. And the woman who is a mother -- by that I mean a mother and not just the bearer of children -- is closer to sainthood than men can even dream.
What I am ashamed of, then, is how so many men treat the mother of their children. I am embarrassed by those who abuse -- physically, mentally, emotionally -- the woman who bore their offspring. And how men, whether they are fathers and husbands or not, look down on most, if not all women. How can this be? Did not each and every one of us come into this world through a woman? None of us is a clone. None of us hatched on a fence post. None of us just materialized in adult form. No, all of us were born of woman. And because a woman gave life to each and every one of us, we should take Sunday and honor not just the woman who bore us, raised us and gave us a life and a future, but all women. Because every woman has within her a mother. Each and every woman deserves the honor and respect we give to a mother because she could be someone's mother at some time in her life.
Women are, after all, God's greatest gift to the world and the most amazing blessing bestowed on men. We will never completely understand why God would grant to us unworthy and undeserving males this wonderful gift, we will never know why God's plans for this planet and this species includes these incredible females, but we men certainly should take tomorrow, and every day of the year, to thank Him for this blessing and to consider ourselves the luckiest men on the face of the earth that one of these heavenly and saintly creatures even bothers to be a part of our lives.
And if we are among the lucky few for whom a woman bears love, and for whom we love in return, then we should sing her praises to the rest of the world every day for the rest of our lives. Because there is no greater gift in life than to find the one whom you love and who loves you in return. I should know. I did find her. And then I lost her. And I now know how empty and meaningless life is without love and the one you love in your life.
So here's to all women, and especially to those who have borne and raised children. They have blessed us all.
Now, I am not claiming every mother is a Madonna, nor that every woman is a saint, just that women tend to be far more saintly and a lot closer to the Blessed Mother than I or any other man could ever get. And the woman who is a mother -- by that I mean a mother and not just the bearer of children -- is closer to sainthood than men can even dream.
What I am ashamed of, then, is how so many men treat the mother of their children. I am embarrassed by those who abuse -- physically, mentally, emotionally -- the woman who bore their offspring. And how men, whether they are fathers and husbands or not, look down on most, if not all women. How can this be? Did not each and every one of us come into this world through a woman? None of us is a clone. None of us hatched on a fence post. None of us just materialized in adult form. No, all of us were born of woman. And because a woman gave life to each and every one of us, we should take Sunday and honor not just the woman who bore us, raised us and gave us a life and a future, but all women. Because every woman has within her a mother. Each and every woman deserves the honor and respect we give to a mother because she could be someone's mother at some time in her life.
Women are, after all, God's greatest gift to the world and the most amazing blessing bestowed on men. We will never completely understand why God would grant to us unworthy and undeserving males this wonderful gift, we will never know why God's plans for this planet and this species includes these incredible females, but we men certainly should take tomorrow, and every day of the year, to thank Him for this blessing and to consider ourselves the luckiest men on the face of the earth that one of these heavenly and saintly creatures even bothers to be a part of our lives.
And if we are among the lucky few for whom a woman bears love, and for whom we love in return, then we should sing her praises to the rest of the world every day for the rest of our lives. Because there is no greater gift in life than to find the one whom you love and who loves you in return. I should know. I did find her. And then I lost her. And I now know how empty and meaningless life is without love and the one you love in your life.
So here's to all women, and especially to those who have borne and raised children. They have blessed us all.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
THE SIGHT OF LOVE
When she looked at herself, she saw flaws, weaknesses, scars and imbalances.
When I looked at her, I saw one of God's most perfect creations.
I saw a complete woman.
Most of us -- save the egotists -- are our worst critics. We see all of the mistakes, errors, issues and scars in part because we have lived through and with them. We know ourselves pretty well, but our vantage point may well be a little too close.
Take a flower -- any flower. Viewed from a reasonable difference every flower is the picture of beauty, of an incredible creation. Get really close, however, and the small variances, the little differences, the minor blotches and irregularities stand out. And the perfect becomes flawed.
So she sees from her close proximity what I do not, because I am not in her skin; I am looking at her from outside her skin.
But there is another reason why she sees what I do not: I love her. And while love is not blind, it sees the beloved differently. Where she sees scars, baggage, flaws, irregularities, I simply see a complete woman. I do not think she has flaws, nor scars, nor baggage, nor irregularities. Instead, those things she considers her scars, flaws, baggage and irregularities are a vital part of who she is. And I love all that she is.
It is not that I do not see these "shortcomings" she thinks she has. I do see them. It is just that I don't see them as "shortcomings," but as important pieces of a complete woman, and a woman I love. So while she sometimes worries about her "baggage" and thinks no one, including me, should have to deal with her "baggage," all I see is someone I love, in her completeness and totality. And I happen to love all of her, as she was, as she is and as she will be.
This can be hard for any of us to accept -- that someone can love parts of us we do not love ourselves, that someone can love us for our "flaws" as much as for our more obvious strengths. But if we truly love someone, we love all of them, even the parts they do not love themselves.
And if they love us, then they feel the same.
That's just the way love is and the way love sees.
When I looked at her, I saw one of God's most perfect creations.
I saw a complete woman.
Most of us -- save the egotists -- are our worst critics. We see all of the mistakes, errors, issues and scars in part because we have lived through and with them. We know ourselves pretty well, but our vantage point may well be a little too close.
Take a flower -- any flower. Viewed from a reasonable difference every flower is the picture of beauty, of an incredible creation. Get really close, however, and the small variances, the little differences, the minor blotches and irregularities stand out. And the perfect becomes flawed.
So she sees from her close proximity what I do not, because I am not in her skin; I am looking at her from outside her skin.
But there is another reason why she sees what I do not: I love her. And while love is not blind, it sees the beloved differently. Where she sees scars, baggage, flaws, irregularities, I simply see a complete woman. I do not think she has flaws, nor scars, nor baggage, nor irregularities. Instead, those things she considers her scars, flaws, baggage and irregularities are a vital part of who she is. And I love all that she is.
It is not that I do not see these "shortcomings" she thinks she has. I do see them. It is just that I don't see them as "shortcomings," but as important pieces of a complete woman, and a woman I love. So while she sometimes worries about her "baggage" and thinks no one, including me, should have to deal with her "baggage," all I see is someone I love, in her completeness and totality. And I happen to love all of her, as she was, as she is and as she will be.
This can be hard for any of us to accept -- that someone can love parts of us we do not love ourselves, that someone can love us for our "flaws" as much as for our more obvious strengths. But if we truly love someone, we love all of them, even the parts they do not love themselves.
And if they love us, then they feel the same.
That's just the way love is and the way love sees.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
DITCH THE DELUSIONS
Life is filled with delusions.
We delude ourselves into thinking we have all the time in the world, even though we know we do not. We delude ourselves into thinking we can control at least some of what happens in our lives when we cannot even control ourselves let alone what others may do to affect our lives. We delude ourselves into believing things -- both material things like cars and houses and emotional things like security -- and money can bring happiness when we know, in our hearts, what really will make us happy. We delude ourselves into believing love is all around us, that we can love her, or him, or the very next person we encounter, when we ought to know and accept that there is just one person on this planet for us to love -- truly love -- and we'll be eternally blessed if we can find him or her before it is too late. Everything else is just a distraction, an illusion, a mistake.
We accept and live out our delusions, but ignore or forget about life's realities. And we wonder why we're unhappy. We pursue our delusions with all of our energies, while giving life's realities nary a passing thought.
In time, though, age wears down our eyesight and alters our vision. The closer we draw to the end of the road, the more we begin to ditch our delusions and accept life's realities. We begin to realize that life is precious and time has its limits. We accept that we can only control a very small and finite part of our lives and so accept the wild and crazy, amazing and wonderful things that often happen.
Most of all, we begin to realize that love -- real, true, unwavering and unconditional love -- is the only thing that can make us happy. And we can and will love only one person in that way, so we'd better find him or her before time runs out.
We can choose to live a life of unfulfilling delusions until the day we die, or we can ditch the delusions and pursue the realities we know will all of our hearts, minds and bodies. Which do you think has the greatest chance at real happiness?
We delude ourselves into thinking we have all the time in the world, even though we know we do not. We delude ourselves into thinking we can control at least some of what happens in our lives when we cannot even control ourselves let alone what others may do to affect our lives. We delude ourselves into believing things -- both material things like cars and houses and emotional things like security -- and money can bring happiness when we know, in our hearts, what really will make us happy. We delude ourselves into believing love is all around us, that we can love her, or him, or the very next person we encounter, when we ought to know and accept that there is just one person on this planet for us to love -- truly love -- and we'll be eternally blessed if we can find him or her before it is too late. Everything else is just a distraction, an illusion, a mistake.
We accept and live out our delusions, but ignore or forget about life's realities. And we wonder why we're unhappy. We pursue our delusions with all of our energies, while giving life's realities nary a passing thought.
In time, though, age wears down our eyesight and alters our vision. The closer we draw to the end of the road, the more we begin to ditch our delusions and accept life's realities. We begin to realize that life is precious and time has its limits. We accept that we can only control a very small and finite part of our lives and so accept the wild and crazy, amazing and wonderful things that often happen.
Most of all, we begin to realize that love -- real, true, unwavering and unconditional love -- is the only thing that can make us happy. And we can and will love only one person in that way, so we'd better find him or her before time runs out.
We can choose to live a life of unfulfilling delusions until the day we die, or we can ditch the delusions and pursue the realities we know will all of our hearts, minds and bodies. Which do you think has the greatest chance at real happiness?
Saturday, February 23, 2013
IF ONLY I COULD GO BACK ....
My father said something interesting to me today. He said he wished he could take the wisdom he has now and take it back in time to give it to himself when he was just a young father so he could do a better job of raising us.
I, too, have had such thoughts, though about other things. If only I could go back in time, I'd tell my younger self to do things differently, to make wiser choices, to find better ways, to turn left instead of right, etc.
But then, I think that if I had that power, if, indeed, I could go back in time, I would not use it to improve my own life, or even to change its course. Not that it couldn't use the improvement, not that I have always made the wisest choices or the smartest decisions.
But if I could travel back in time and change its direction and course, I would not alter my own path. I would alter hers. I would change how her life went, how her path was forged by time. I would make her childhood better, I would find a way to ease her growing up, allay the fears that have gripped her from time to time, drive back the demons that regularly nip at her heels and have dogged her for far too long.
That would change who she is today, in dramatic ways, and I cannot be sure it would make her better today. But I think it would make her happier and healthier. And that would be enough.
That would mean she would not be the same woman I love, the woman I will always love. But that would be worth the sacrifice if I could give her a better life and a better future. Because she deserves that. She suffered enough as a child, as a teen and now as an adult. If I could give her a childhood with more love and happiness in it, some teen years with less turmoil, more triumphs over fear and doubt and no unwarranted and unwanted intrusions by others, then I think the adult her would be more able to love and be loved and would be far less fearful of it. Even if it meant we would never meet and I would never get to love her. Ever.
Of course, this is all just dreaminess, just supposition. I can no more go back in time than I can change her heart. I can only hope and pray that one day she will realize what she has lost and will turn back to see if love still waits for her.
Because it always will.
I, too, have had such thoughts, though about other things. If only I could go back in time, I'd tell my younger self to do things differently, to make wiser choices, to find better ways, to turn left instead of right, etc.
But then, I think that if I had that power, if, indeed, I could go back in time, I would not use it to improve my own life, or even to change its course. Not that it couldn't use the improvement, not that I have always made the wisest choices or the smartest decisions.
But if I could travel back in time and change its direction and course, I would not alter my own path. I would alter hers. I would change how her life went, how her path was forged by time. I would make her childhood better, I would find a way to ease her growing up, allay the fears that have gripped her from time to time, drive back the demons that regularly nip at her heels and have dogged her for far too long.
That would change who she is today, in dramatic ways, and I cannot be sure it would make her better today. But I think it would make her happier and healthier. And that would be enough.
That would mean she would not be the same woman I love, the woman I will always love. But that would be worth the sacrifice if I could give her a better life and a better future. Because she deserves that. She suffered enough as a child, as a teen and now as an adult. If I could give her a childhood with more love and happiness in it, some teen years with less turmoil, more triumphs over fear and doubt and no unwarranted and unwanted intrusions by others, then I think the adult her would be more able to love and be loved and would be far less fearful of it. Even if it meant we would never meet and I would never get to love her. Ever.
Of course, this is all just dreaminess, just supposition. I can no more go back in time than I can change her heart. I can only hope and pray that one day she will realize what she has lost and will turn back to see if love still waits for her.
Because it always will.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
WAIT FOR LOVE
Most people want to love and be loved. The problem is, most of us don't love and aren't loved.
Instead, we think we love and we hope we are loved. But what we really do is substitute other things -- security, peace, praise, power, sex, control -- for love, both in what we give and in what we receive.
Now part of the problem is that most of us, like it or not, want love so badly that we accept these substitutes rather than wait another day for love. We really want to love and be loved, but we aren't sure we know how to love and are even more unsure we'd know love if it walked up to us and gave us a kiss.
So we accept far less than we deserve. We accept far less than love.
Now granted, many of these errors are made out of need, out of exuberance but mostly out of fear and uncertainty -- fear that no one will ever love us, so we take what we can get even when it is far less than love; and uncertainty about whether what we are experiencing is love.
Now I'd love to tell you how to know if you are in love and are being loved, to give you a list of things to check off to make sure it is what you are looking for, but what everyone always says about love is so very true -- you'll just know. So maybe that is the key. If you don't really know that what you have and what you receive is love, then maybe you should step back and reconsider everything.
Because love is worth it. It is worth the wait, it is worth the searching, it is worth the time, it is worth the ache, the emptiness, the longing, the dreaming, the hoping, the desiring.
So don't dive into a mistake, an error, that will only wind up leaving two people hurting, empty, longing and, well, confused. Find love, give love and then go on with life together.
Because that is what we all want, even if we sometimes mistake it for something else entirely.
Instead, we think we love and we hope we are loved. But what we really do is substitute other things -- security, peace, praise, power, sex, control -- for love, both in what we give and in what we receive.
Now part of the problem is that most of us, like it or not, want love so badly that we accept these substitutes rather than wait another day for love. We really want to love and be loved, but we aren't sure we know how to love and are even more unsure we'd know love if it walked up to us and gave us a kiss.
So we accept far less than we deserve. We accept far less than love.
Now granted, many of these errors are made out of need, out of exuberance but mostly out of fear and uncertainty -- fear that no one will ever love us, so we take what we can get even when it is far less than love; and uncertainty about whether what we are experiencing is love.
Now I'd love to tell you how to know if you are in love and are being loved, to give you a list of things to check off to make sure it is what you are looking for, but what everyone always says about love is so very true -- you'll just know. So maybe that is the key. If you don't really know that what you have and what you receive is love, then maybe you should step back and reconsider everything.
Because love is worth it. It is worth the wait, it is worth the searching, it is worth the time, it is worth the ache, the emptiness, the longing, the dreaming, the hoping, the desiring.
So don't dive into a mistake, an error, that will only wind up leaving two people hurting, empty, longing and, well, confused. Find love, give love and then go on with life together.
Because that is what we all want, even if we sometimes mistake it for something else entirely.
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