A CLOAK OF SADNESS

Love, I once thought, was the answer.
To all of the world’s problems. To all of the questions in my life.
But I was wrong. Now I am like the spinster teacher who, rumor has it, once loved a handsome young man with all her heart, only to lose him in the war. She never again dated another. Or like the bachelor uncle who, family wags say, once was married to the happiest, most lovely woman whoever walked the earth, only to lose her decades ago to a fatal illness. He never had the heart to wed again.
Now, like them, I walk through this world cloaked in an impenetrable and unshakable sadness. No tear is ever seen to fall from my eyes, but the sadness clings to them, like the fogbank hugs the shore. No sob escapes from my breast, but the heart inside beats quietly, softly, solemnly, as a condemned man walks to the gallows.
I was not always this way.
I once lived as if happiness were around the next corner, where Joy would greet me with a warm smile and kisses, her tender hands holding my face as she looked deeply and lovingly into my eyes. I really believed that was possible, that true love was just out there, waiting to be discovered by me.
I was not happy, not yet. But I would be eventually, soon enough. I just had to wait, be patient and my happiness would come.
You can live that way, buoyed along by the hope for happiness. You can live in that limbo, that birthing canal, on your way to a better life at any moment.
But you can’t relive that way once you leave it. Once you have been birthed into the world, once you have stepped around that corner, there is no going back, no retreat.
You see, I once had happiness. I caressed it in my arms, kissed it with my lips, touched it with my hands, beheld it with my eyes. Like a fool, I thought it would last forever, that nothing could ever make it end. Then one day, it ran away and left me.
Standing.
Lost.
Forgotten.
Alone.
Fear forced it to flee. It gripped my happiness by the shoulders and snarled in its face, saliva dripping from its fangs and the putrid stench of paranoia on its fetid breath. Before I could reason with my happiness, before I could promise to protect it from fear and all of its friends – anxiety, worry, mistrust and others --- happiness had taken flight, never, I fear, to be seen or heard again.
Now I walk through this world wrapped in my cloak of sadness. It does not keep me warm and offers no protection from the elements. But it is well-worn by me and offers me that comfort only familiarity can provide. It also keeps others at bay, standing far enough away so they won’t catch sadness too, in case it is contagious.
And it may well be. After all, I caught mine from my happiness.

A HOMELESS HEART

An abiding restlessness permeates the skin, flooding muscle and bone alike.
It clings to hair, covers the body, fills the mind, overflows into the soul.
No location feels quite right. No place offers even a second’s peace or relaxation. The knife is always on edge, the muscles always taught, the mind always on alert, the body always in motion.
This is what it is like to be homeless in your own skin.
There is no rest. In bed, the urge is to remain awake. Awake, the urge is to sleep. Driving, the need is to be sitting still. Sitting still, the push is to get moving. The next place, the next stop offers some hope, but it soon dissolves like salt into warm water. Just keep moving on, a vagabond in your own life, unable to settle down, incapable of finding peace.
People surround, filling in empty places, but even the familiar is now a stranger, the sight of anyone, everyone a cause to flee to – Where? Where to go that offers any hope?
A memory lingers – or is it simply the reminder of a mirage? -- of a place that once was home, a place where heart, mind, body and soul felt at ease, was comfortable, found contentment. It is out there somewhere, isn’t it?
It is not out there somewhere. It is out there with someone.  Because home, the saying goes, is where the heart is. This is what happens when the heart has been given to another. When the heart no longer abides inside, but belongs to a place and a person who has taken it far away. Where, then, is home?
Home is a person. Home is completeness. Home is peace. Home is where heart, body, mind and soul finally can rest easy.
But there is no going home. A lifetime ban has been issued. Home is off-limits. Home is out of bounds. Home is unreachable. Home is unattainable. Home is for someone else.
All that is left is restlessness, unease, no peace.
There is no home, or hope, for the weary.

HOW WILL YOU KNOW?

When I was growing up, I wondered a lot about love. I knew I loved my parents and my siblings. I knew I "loved" football and most other sports. I knew I "loved" my mother's homemade pies.
But I was unsure how to know if I loved someone else, someone from outside the family sphere.
For many years this was not a problem, since women avoided me like the plague. I couldn't buy a date, let alone get one with a simple request. When I did screw up the courage to ask a woman out, it often was met with a look of disgust and disdain, as if she would not deign to date me if I were the last male on the planet. It is safe to say I knew I did not love any of them.
Still, I wanted to know how I could be sure I loved someone, if the right woman ever came along. People who'd experienced love would just say, "You'll know," and get a wistful look on their faces. I had no idea what that meant or how that was supposed to help me when the time came.
Then, by a miracle, I fell in love. And in that moment I understood what those people had been trying to tell me. When you know, you just know. In your heart. In your soul. In every cell of your being. You know you love her more than life itself, more than anything or anyone else on the planet. That knowledge helped explain to me why "a man will leave his mother and father and cling" to the woman he loves. It explained to me, better than anything else, the story of the pearl of great price. I could never understand why someone would sell everything he had in order to have this one singular pearl. After all, it was just a pearl! And no matter how much that pearl would get him, it didn't seem to be worth the trouble of selling off everything he had. Ahh, but when you see the pearl as love, as that one person on earth you were born to love, then that parable makes so much more sense. For you will gladly, happily sell off everything you have in order to have her in your life for the rest of that life.
Knowing you love her, however, does not eliminate all worry and anxiety. You'll still be plagued by worries -- Does she love you? What if something happens to her, how will you ever go on? What challenges and hurdles will life throw at the two of you? -- and challenges -- You'll need to be vigilant to make sure you never forget what a miraculous gift she is and to reassure her of that on a daily, hourly basis; you'll have to be ready to make sacrifices to ensure her continued happiness; and you'll have to learn to allow her space and time to herself, to let her grow and develop and become the complete woman she was born to be, all while remaining a part of that growth and that life by sharing it with her.
If you truly love her and know it, then these challenges and hurdles will be so much easier to clear because love makes everything easier. As a wise person once said, "If you truly love someone, it is not work. It is only work when you don't love someone."
And you'll know you love someone when, well, you just know.
Trust me on this, okay?

FACING THE TEST

In school, we faced a lot of tests. There were the math tests, the science tests, the spelling tests, the reading tests and then, from time to time, there were physical education tests. Life included other tests too, like classmates testing your manhood on the playground or friends testing your friendship by asking you to cover for them or do something your conscience wasn't sure was right.
I can't say I was ever good at tests. But, unlike some classmates, I grew to accept tests as a regular part of life. I didn't worry too much about them beforehand and I certainly didn't fret for a moment about how I did once that paper left my hand and headed to the teacher's desk. All I felt was relief that yet another test had passed and was over. My score was, well, my score and nothing I did or thought after the fact was going to change that.
The tests didn't end when I left school, however. They continued, even to this day. Work is a daily test, though with experience we get better at taking it. When I first started, the boss was testing me to see what I could do and how much I could get done and still do it well. The more I could do, the more was expected of me. In today's world, the test becomes how much I can do and take before I finally complain and say, ENOUGH!
Then there are the tests I make for myself. When I work out today, can I do a little more, work a little harder, make my body perform at a higher level than yesterday? What can I do to get faster, stronger, fitter? I want to push my body to the edge of fatigue, to edge of breaking down, but not past that point and into the chasm of tiredness, pain and injury that awaits those who go too far.
Relationships also are filled with tests. Her voice may well be asking you what you want to do, but her heart and mind might be testing you to see if you will choose something you really want to do -- which would be self-centered and maybe even selfish -- or if you will choose something you know she wants to do, even if it is something you dislike. Or she may test you by trusting you with something secret, something personal, to see what you do with such information. Do you share it with others? Do you brag about knowing it? Do you use that information as a weapon against her, threatening her peace of mind and heart and soul with it?
If you love her and she loves you, then there is trust and the tests are not an issue and not necessary. And if you trust her and she trusts you then there can be love and the answers to those questions and tests are easy. You keep her secrets in your heart where only you and she can share them and they will stay locked in there forever, if necessary.
But the heart can create other tests to face, tests that neither of you can foresee. Circumstance may force the two of you to be separated for a time and that is a test of both love and your hearts, to see how much you can bear. It can seem overwhelming, but if you can hold on and endure, what comes next can be an even deeper, more profound and more complete relationship than you thought or dreamed was possible. For while they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, I think absence makes us face the reality of our feelings for this person and makes us more acutely aware of just how much they mean to us and just how important they are to us. So that when we are reunited, we cherish this person even more than we did before. So that every kiss, every touch, every embrace, every spoken word and unspoken gesture is precious and vital and remembered. Our senses are even more attuned to their every movement, every breath. Like the sponge that has gone dry, we absorb every precious drop of life water he/she releases to us once we are together once again.
But first, we must survive the test. First we must graciously and stoically endure the separation, still loving them and caring for them and hoping for them and dreaming of them while waiting for that moment when the test is over and the grades are in and we have passed with flying colors. Then, and only then, can we begin to celebrate and continue the celebrating for the rest of our lives.

BEHOLDING REAL BEAUTY

While on my ride this morning, two young does ran out in front of my bike, each far enough away to be safe and yet close enough that I could hear their hooves on the pavement. They were beautiful to behold, amazing creatures. One of them was walking slowly across the road, apparently unaware of my somewhat silent approach, until I drew close when, startled, it ran off into the nearby field, nearly disappearing among the growing green plants.
It is not as though these old eyes have not seen deer before and yet every time I experience the closeness of nature and see its incredible beauty, I am struck with awe and thanks that such amazing creatures are on this earth and that I have been blessed with the opportunity to be near them.
I feel the same away about the woman I love. It does not matter how many days we've had together or all that we have shared or been through, I behold her anew each time I see her and am I struck awe and humbled greatly by her total beauty — interior and exterior. And I consider myself the most blessed man to have eyes that see and that my eyes get to see her. To hold her with my eyes is the greatest blessing bestowed on any man. She is the sight that lifts my spirits, enlivens my heart, brings light to my days. I rise each and every day with the hope that she is the first thing and person I will see. And I pray each night that she will be the last thing and person I see, and the only person I will ever touch.
I know that all of this sounds horribly hokey and syrupy. But it also is what my heart feels just knowing she is alive, in this world and a part of my life. Surely there are other people out there who share similar feelings about the woman they love. Surely I am not alone in this. Except in one way: I pray I, alone, will be the one to forever hold her with my eyes and my arms, all of the rest of my life.

A PRECIOUS GIFT

One of the most difficult things anyone can do is open themselves up to another person and be completely vulnerable. Most of us design elaborate emotional defenses to prevent this very thing from happening, defenses we have built and designed since childhood as a bulwark against the very first hurts we endured and all of those that have come since. For a person to lower those defenses, open their heart and mind to another and allow them entrance into their innermost thoughts, fears, worries, shortcomings, anxieties and injuries is often too scary.
Some men think, however, that women do this easily. That is because women often will share with another woman some thoughts, ideas, emotions, issues she would not share with a man. That's natural since, as women, they often have endured many of the same physical and emotional changes and demands and, if nothing else, have a common problem: us. Let's face it, most of us men have not shown interest in what goes on in the hearts and heads of women. Oh, some of us will feign interest in order to date, bed, wed a woman. But few, if any, males maintain a real interest in what a woman thinks, wants, knows, has lived through.
But they should. Because women are incredibly complex, deep, multi-faceted people with so much to tell us; things we should know about them, about how they see the world and how they see us.
That doesn't mean you find a woman, sit her down and just let her talk. That isn't how it works. She may want you to listen and ask questions based on what you hear, proving to her you truly are paying attention. Or she may prefer that you let her decide how much she wants you to know, so you must listen well. She'll know you were listening when you talk to her later about something she said.
Even if you do those things, however, it will take patience, kindness, gentleness, love, trust and an emotional bond to get her to open up her heart and the deepest of her thoughts and secrets to you. But show her patience, kindness, gentleness and love -- form that unbreakable emotional bond and trust -- and what she shares with you will be her most vulnerable self. This is a most precious gift, the greatest honor a woman can bestow on a man. Treasure it like the pearl of great price that it is. You will never, in all of your life, be given anything more valuable.

AN UNWANTED GIFT

You have a talent, a gift. It starts out raw, a little rough, but you work at it, polish it and hone it. In time you get pretty good at what you do. You're not the best in your chosen field but you aren't the worst either. You're average, but average, at least, is okay. Sure, you'd like to be the best, the very best, but your talent just doesn't reach that far. You've come to live with your averageness, to accept it as a fact. That never stops you from trying, from striving, from working hard. So sometimes you've had flashes of a little brilliance, a little shine, a little bit of what the best have every day.
Time, though, has a funny way of working against you. While you were honing your skills, trying to make the most of your average talent, the world was deciding it didn't need your kind. Heck, it didn't need people who knew what they were doing. It just wanted something fast, sloppy or not. Just fast. It didn't want to pay at all, let alone pay for quality. Just get it to me fast. And faster. And faster yet. Anyone who can get it to me fast is in. It doesn't matter if it is right, or good, or of decent quality. Just get it to me fast, and cheaply.
Suddenly all of that work you put into getting better, getting the most out of your talent, works against you. Your experience works against you. Because the world doesn't want to pay for talent or experience. The world doesn't want to pay at all. The world wants it free and fast. And to heck with it being good, right or of decent quality.
Where does this leave you? Among the great unwashed unwanted, on a list of people society no longer needs and surely doesn't want. You have no value in today's marketplace. Not because you can't do fast, but because you don't do sloppy or wrong. Not because you can't do it, but because you have done it for too long and no one wants to pay for your experience or even your average talents.
Why hire you when some kid off the street will do it for nothing? Why pay for you when they can get it for free? So what if the product isn't worth even that price? Heck, it didn't cost me anything, so why should I, the customer, care?
You never saw this coming because you grew up in a time when quality mattered and people made fun of the cheap, poorly made products from overseas lands. You were formed at a time when if you had a job to do, you did it well, gave it your very best. You came from a time when quality was more important than speed. Yes, if you could do quality quickly, you were more valuable, but quality got first dibs.
That is not the world we live in anymore. And that is a world where you are not wanted anymore. You're an anachronism, a dinosaur, a lost man from another world, another dimension.
And no one wants what you do anymore.