Like an animal

I have learned so much from animals and nature. There's is a world only ruined by association. This means it functions much closer to perfection and where the affects of ruination are felt they are handled more like they would be handled in a perfect state.

Right now, I'm thinking of how animals and even plants (which are far more responsive than people think, only on a much slower time scale) do not judge. If they form opinions, they do not affect behavior in any large degree. They take each action or event as it comes, they tolerate massive amounts of wrong, and they are slow to learn fear or hate while being quick to forgive.

I wonder if I can learn to live like this. Can I not expect, not interpret, not figure? Can I learn to simply be and watch and react appropriately? I've spent years thinking about things in hopes of reaching peace through ultimate understanding. If I could see how things all work, I'd be able to rest in that just like when you understand your surgery or illness you feel less anxious about it. Not that I ever thought I would get to the end, but it was the distant goal that defined a paradigm.

But now I'm starting to realize that this may not be the answer. Like Solomon returning to rest in meaninglessness, I'm finding that understanding brings no peace.

No matter what I learn, I feel like I've done all this before. Had these realizations, cycled around, and nothing has really changed.

I recognized the cycles before, but I envisioned them spiraling upward where each cycle was a little closer to truth. But I doubt that now.

Now I want to get off the train. I want to watch it draw away from me and take all it's energy and activity with it. I want to look and simply see what is there, not be preoccupied with things that aren't there. Wars and rumors of wars, a chasing after the wind, trying to capture shadows. I want to see feel what is there without having to analyze, systematize and categorize. I just want to feel and let the feeling go into the next, good, bad, sad, or indifferent.

I want a simple and gentle yet unabashed honesty, like animals, to the greatest degree I can.

Weather mood

Ok, so this blog gets a lot of dark or negative posts. But that's ok. That's a big part of me, and this blog is a way to process thoughts and feelings. So it's ok.

Right now, I've been trying hard to not bury the things that have come to the surface in me. I am hoping to let them heal while I have the chance. That's when I realized how much external circumstances affect my mood. Part if if thinks it shouldn't be that way, but then it seems perfectly natural for anyone connected to the world around them. So maybe the aversion is just some form of social expectation perhaps filtered through my conservative show no flaws upbringing. So as I said in the last post, I'm giving myself permission to just react and feel.

I live in a place with the worst weather I've ever experienced. We haven't had a fully sunny day since I got here 5 months ago, and for the last three it's been cold and drizzly all the time. There's not so much rock around here, but a good deal of clay, so whatever is paved is covered in a black or green slick and what isn't is a slime of sticky mud.  To make matters worse, the place is not well adapted to it, so buildings are cold and heated by stoves that create exceedingly dry indoor conditions. Then the walls are thin and paper, so you have to close the doors and hang plastic to keep any kind if heat in.

So life is a dark suffocatingly dry existence in a fluroescent lit paper box with no outside viewpunctuated by trips through a hallway a coulpe degrees above freezing. Or trips outside in sleety drizzle and mud.

It's not cold enough to outright snow, so it's just sodden gray. Hard to do anything outside or inside. I really hate it. My mood suffers with it and I find my spirits suddenly lift and literally get excitied when the sun peeks out. But around here it is either about to rain or just did. So in literal minutes the sun will be completely blanketed in a low gray sky again, and the chill penetrates into my soul again.

I check the extended forecast daily and can't wait for warm up, and hopefully some sun. I also count the days until I can leave here.

God, I hope I can make it through this. I have not hated a place like this in my entire life...except maybe high school, but at least then, my bright life-giving friend was always accessible just outside when I could sneak out to find him. Then maybe the winter vacations my family took as a kid where we'd sit for hours rocking along dirt roads through the southewst US trapped in a trick with my family that all got along. (The only thing we agreed on was that I was the black sheep.) Only to jump out in the cold, which I was perpetually underdressed for 10 minutes at a time before moving on. But even that was just a week or two and the sun came out sometimes.

Back off

Today I find myself feeling embarrassed for nothing really, just for being me, for being here, etc.  I guess I'm feeling tired of having to live up to people's expectations.  It's funny how even people with a reputation for bucking the system still end up confined by expectations.  Maybe it's just my own expectations.  Maybe it's all in my own head, brought on by the isolation of this life.  I spend hours without saying a word, just ghosting around people who barely notice I'm there.

The few friends who know about it are not any help.  They pretty much don't get it at all and can't figure out why I don't fit their expectations of how I should be reacting in this situation, or how they think they'd react, or whatever.  To be fair, some people are true.  Those people I value.  If you think you're one of them, you're probably wrong and if you aren't sure, then it might be you.  But while I don't want to hurt anyone, I'm not ok right now.  So this is my time to get sorted.  So you're just going to have to deal with it.

I suppose I could break out of this funk.  I could push myself into other dynamics.  But I don't really want to.  I would love to see the people I care about here, but they are far far away, far enough that it's not much different than when I lived in the US.

I'm disappointed with this experience, with myself, with what I'm learning about myself, etc.  The one thing I want to do is just not think, not pretend, just be whatever I am at the moment I want space to be that and I'm going to freaking take it.  So everyone should just butt out.  I'm giving myself permission to feel angry and sad and lonely and disappointed and hurt and to be quiet and to hate small talk and talking on the phone and one-sided friendships and F&'(##$% Skype.

I'm going to simply react and be for awhile.  So fair-warning, if this bothers you or hurts you in some way, just stay away from me.  I'm ceasing to strive in any way.  I am what I am good and bad and in between and I'm not pretending or apologizing for it.  So stop expecting things.

Real change

I'm obviously trying to process a lot lately, which is why I've been posting a lot.  If you find this at random, you might not know that this blog is a place for me to process ideas and emotions, to think out what's going on in and around me.  It's raw and barely edited, some proofing, but largely it is as it comes in the moment, left for you in the off chance that you might find some value in it.

So right as I'm starting to get my feet under me and figure up from down after uprooting my life, giving up my career and moving around the world, I'm now struck by a disturbing thought.  As I sit her late at night listening to the wind swirling outside, I feel a strong inclination that what I'm thinking has all happened before.  Good or bad, I don't know yet.  So that's what I'm hoping to find out here.

I am not happy here, as much as I try to relax into it, to accept it, to let me own desires go, I just don't want to be here.  It's not the country as a whole, it's this particular place and situation.  It's not without it's blessings and charms, but I still on a whole want out.  Only 220 more days or so to go!  But that isn't the disturbing thought.

I was thinking of how to capitalize on this, how to make the best of it, and the thought occurred to me that by making my feelings know I might be shooting myself in the foot.  I should probably, at least publicly milk it for what it's worth and when I return home, spin it into a grand learning experience in which I accomplished quite a bit, even over a rocky start, and boost myself right into something.

Even this isn't the really disturbing part, as Machiavellian and disingenuous as it is, I know my potential to be a politician, to manipulate, so I'm not surprised by that.  But that's when it hit me that this has happened before.  And it worked!  That's what disturbs me.  Eventually I might have even started to believe it!  Which again, isn't the first time, because to sell a con, you have to believe it first.

So I may be wrong.  I may be misjudging myself, as a mentor has told me.  But let's just play out this perspective for a bit and see.  So here goes, this is likely going to hurt.

When I came here before, I wasn't perfectly happy either.  The job was very similar, though I had a few opportunities to sink my teeth in and better relationships that have been lifelong.  But it wasn't perfect and I was reluctant to return, but did for many reasons.  I always wanted to go back, so I started about a process to try to make it possible.  Very quickly opportunities presented themselves and through a little planning, and mostly capitalizing on the opportunities by looking long range, I was able to work my way into a position that received a prestigious award from the government of the country I am now in and made me quite well known in the circles I traveled in my home.  I don't want to over blow this.  Most people wouldn't have a clue who I am and many in the circles wouldn't know me either.  But the point is it worked for my purposes and I was able to keep doors open and here I am.  I'm not even really sure I got well evaluated for the job, but am pretty confident my reputation scooted me through on the grease I laid with my con skills.

So I could do this again.  I could start paving the way now and just to prove it, I'll talk about how.  I'd start by ceasing all negative comment in a remotely public setting, then removing any that have been published on the internet.  Those that remain would be chalked up to a weak moment if ever questioned, who among us doesn't have those, and look at the risks I took, it's natural, right?  Then I'd start manipulating my current workplace.  They have no idea what to do with me and they all either care about their careers or their mission to educate, which is admirable, and open to predation.  So I'd start feeding each teacher what they want to hear and insert my own ideas into their minds by small suggestions until I get to start something that I already know will fail, but which won't be evaluable.  See the success is not important, it's legitimizing the effort.  I just need to be able to say I did, x, y ,z while here.  Then I'll look for some public ways to verify that by starting some social media posts, or groups, organizing the others on the program here for certain small scale events, even starting something regularly to show that I can.  Doesn't matter how well it goes, because like I said, no one really cares.  I just set it up so it keeps my face and name in front of people for later.

Then upon returning, I'll look for opportunities, which won't be hard to find, since I did legitimately put in a lot of time building the persona and no one wants to fill it.  So I can easily take it right back.  At that point, it will be really hard for anyone to verify anything I say, so if I put on the right body language and key phrases, I could even end up getting a job out of it.  None of it is a lie.  None of it would be outright false.  But it's still all a front, a sham designed to get me something.

So is that what I'll do?  I could recount so many instances of doing things like this in other parts of my life.  Like they said in one of my favorite movies, the Prestige, to pull off a deception like this, your life has to BE the con.  You have to LIVE it.

Am I evil?  Do I do hurtful things with my manipulations?  No.  In fact, I do a lot of good with them.  But they are still all masks.  Here in this life, I'm learning to be more honest and open.  I've so far refused to use those tactics.  I'm letting others flounder around when I see so many opportunities to take the reigns to some degree.

Or am I flattering myself?  Is all of this I'm saying the actual fiction?  Maybe I am not so deceptive, nor even so skilled.  The problem is I can't tell.  But I am well aware that to do the same things produces the same results.  So to get different results you have to do different things.  This is why people will occasionally disappear from public life.  Or sell out of being a lawyer to be a lawn guy.  So I came here in an attempt to change the story of the rich young ruler and to actually get out of the boat and see if I can walk on water.  So what happens next?  If you read this, you'll have your answer...unless it's just another play in my long game.

Not for me

I am amazed at how selfish I am.  I don't think of myself as selfish, and others might call me generous.  But I recently had a realization that stands out to me as more than my own thoughts.  I think this because for one, it hasn't faded.  One thing, I think it was Black Elk, said was that you can tell dreams from visions because dreams fade and visions don't.  I have found it applies to thoughts as well.

Secondly, it brought the most peace I've had since this whole process of moving to the other side of the world started.  I've prayed and sought counsel and prayed, and meditated, and read, and prayed and sought more counsel, but it has been a hugely uphill climb for me, one thing after another.  I think I'm cresting the peak, and there's another just behind it.  I still haven't hit the level ground yet, I just think I'm starting to get used to the struggle.

This revelation was simply, "this isn't about you."  Specifically, this whole process, wasn't for me.  This whole journey, adventure, call it what you will, it was not me who wanted it, and I'm the one enjoying it the least and struggling the most.  I honestly did all of this for my family.  Sure, when I was the one offered the job, I thought maybe there was something for me.  When it all kept working out, I thought it must be meant to be.  But I never knew what that reason or purpose was.  Through everything, in my deepest heart, I didn't want to do this.  Sure I hoped it would work out and I even built a few castles in the air about the whole thing, but I couldn't escape this reluctant feeling.  So sure enough, when things got difficult, I second guessed, I thought we had made the wrong choice, I looked for ways to undo it and salvage what I could of my life.

But meanwhile, my wife and kid are doing quite well.  They've had their ups and downs, some of them pretty serious.  But overall, I think they would call this positive, apart from what it's done to me.  I get that, because the first time we did this (yep, it's all happened before) I was having a great time and my wife was struggling deeply.  She just carries her burdens differently.  Our kid was too young then to have a bad experience as long as mom and dad are there, so he was fine.  This time though, they have work, friends, they even get invited places.  I'm the one that is sick all the time, with little to do, nowhere to go, only the merest acquaintances for friends, working a pointless dead end job with very little respect that ranges from polite disregard to outright disrespect (the head at one of my work locations told me last week that he liked my predecessor better, in nearly as many words as that, thought he still won't tell me why or what he expects me to do differently, and he's one of the nicer ones).

So again, I prayed and searched and kept coming up dry.  But then, I don't even remember when it occurred, the phrase passed through me mind like an electric shock.  I'm part of their story too.  We can't be separated, physically, spiritually, or in the narrative of our lives.  So this time it's their turn.  My wife even wrote that in her application essay (we both applied for work; I got in and she didn't).  So here we are, they're enjoying it and I'm not.  But that's because this isn't about me.  It's for them.

I understand that nothing is ever that simple.  I also know that such revelations are for the moment and, as George MacDonald termed it, become inedible tomorrow, like the manna in the desert.  But that doesn't negate the value.  It is sustaining me for the moment, and that is exactly what I needed.  Something to sustain me, to give me a reason to get up and keep doing this.  And it also gives me a reason to shut up a little.  I can't hide my struggles from my family.  That would be to make matters worse.  But I can also, as much as I am able, not inhibit their ability to enjoy and gain from these experiences, which appear to have a prewritten close.  We didn't know it coming in, but I had prayed not to have to make the decision to stay or return, and it appears that has been granted too, thank God. But that's a story for another time.

Right now, I'll take the consolation I can get and I'll continue to try to learn from this all...that's what I do.  And right now, I'm learning how selfish I still am.  A mentor of mine once said that self-centeredness has many manifestations.  We all know the bratty child (or adult) that has to have everything their way.  But focusing on ourselves in other ways is just as much selfishness because it's still self-centered.  We can be entirely self-deprecating and still be as selfish as the brat.  To cease being selfish, we have to cease putting ourselves at the center of our own universe.  And this is not something I can do on my own.  Nonetheless, it must happen.  So I'm going to open myself once more, and hopefully a little wider, to the saving, transforming power of the Lord of Spirits.

God you know my heart better than I do.  You know my needs and my desires.  You know my abilities and my flaws.  I am what I am and in myself that is as much as I'll ever be.  If I am to be anything more, to be better, to be greater, freer, more real, complete and alive, then you have to do it.  I can not.  You know I've tried.  And you know how I've continued to fail and strain and lie.  So here goes, one more time, hands off the rope.

Dog and Lamb

God I am broken and my heart is heavy. I have lost what little joy I had. I am the lost lamb and the sheep dog at the same time.

I saw you point so I ran. I didn't know why, but I always want to go where you point so I went. Then I crested a hill and could not see anything. I could not see you. I looked around. I didn't know where to go. I yelled for you. In the distance I thought I heard your whistle. But I couldn't tell where. I yelled again and your whistle was fainter, but I thought it was the signal to go on. Maybe I would find what you sent me for.

The way has gotten rocky and cold, wet and dark. I cannot see the sun. I cannot hear you. I yell and yell.

When I can't see you, I listen for your whistle or the thumping of your staff on the ground. But I can't see anything. I can't hear anything.

I don't know where to go or what to do, so I will find a sheltered place and wait. It's too dark to see. I am cold and lost and hungry, but I will wait for you to find me, to carry me home.

Have I failed? I want to say I acted in faith, but a voice inside says, "did you?" I would not blame someone else in this case, but I want to blame myself. So I will not listen to this voice. I don't want to hear it any more. Even if I am at fault, don't I also receive forgiveness?

I hear the scratching and clawing of beasts around the crevice of rock I crawled in. It is cold but dry and the crawling things that live here do not bite. They have let me in. But the beasts can smell me. I can smell them. I have fought them before. I have been brave when you were coming, when you sent me. But I am too cold and sick. I hurt in many places and I can't see in this dark. They keep reaching for me, but they haven't found me yet. When light comes, I will try to find my way back to where I last heard you. If the beasts don't get me first. But even that seems better than this cold lonely dark.

Left and lost continued

I'm really attempting to change my thinking, and the last post seems full of a lot of focus on the negative while filtering the positive. So here is my ungainly attempt to alter my focus.

It isn't all bad. Pay is good, all three of us are working.

Medical is insanely cheap and good quality. In fact it's so cheap I feel like the rich guy who balks at prices. What they call expensive is still a quarter of what I'd pay even with insurance in the US.

People have helped us whenever we really need it, sometimes going out of their way significantly, like finding us this house. Which while very old and below standard for most US houses is crazy cheap with a very sweet and kind landlord who lives right next door.

Work is super easy.

Nature is beautiful and easily accessible here. Fences are pretty much unheard of, even for dogs.

There are lots of artisan type places with handmade goods, specialty foods, etc. Including the best real Italian pizza I've ever had.

Crime is negligible. Our door doesn't even have a lock from the inside and stores leave stock out all night. People abhor violence here for the most part and even fights are tame compared to the US.

People are super polite, even if this is one of the ruder areas of the country. Even the tough guy says thanks and excusie me if he goes ahead of you at the checkout line. Store staff are helpful and actially try to get things right.

There are a couple of bright-spot people I really am glad to know here.

We don't have to travel far for anything. A long way off is a 20 minute car ride, and an hour is  something of day trip. You never get stuck in massive inching backups which were my daily commute for so many years.

So I guess this kind of works.

Left and lost

I hear a lot about not being afraid to leave your comfort zone, about taking radical leaps of faith. Well, I tried to do that, and so far it has been entirely no picnic. I've been washed by doubts and fears, had difficulties thrown in at every turn, none of them severe enough to stop it from happening, just enough to make me sick and miserable. And I've seen no fruit from it whatsoever. I have no idea what I'm doing here, if I should have come, if or what I'm supposed to do. I receive absolutely zero consolations or guidance during prayer. And yet it's not as if there is anything really stopping us from being here, in fact that part just keep easily sailing along. The only part is I don't want to be here.

I have analyzed it up and down in so many ways, I'm not going to rehash it here. But I'm now faced with a decision to commit to not only the year I already contracted, but an additional year. So 5 months in, I have to decide about the next 20 months. The first 5 have been on a whole pretty difficult. I have even had to finally see a doctor about symptoms and get counseling for the stress. There are still so many things thst need doing to make life comfortable.

And that word comes out with a bad taste, but I invite you and the part of myself that hates the word to try this. See what it does to you to leave the life everyone says you should work for to come where you can barely communicate, hardly read, no one you work for really wants you or needs you around, though they keep requiring you to make a show of it by simply standing beside them for hours each day, saying nothing, doing nothing, but not able to do anything else more productive, and then trudge home on foot in the dark and increasing cold in a place where rain is literally the norm, to a house that has substandard everything, including literal mud walls and doors that don't seal without even the technology of a fire place to heat it. Where you keep getting sick from contact with kids and people who don't understand basic hygiene and think that keeping rooms at equal temp with the near freezing outside is healthy in some way. With a teen who really wanted to come but blames you for every instance that doesn't meet her expectations.

So what am I doing here? Am I in the wilderness on the way to the promised land? Am I drowning in the waves I tried to walk on? Did I just misinderstand everything? Am I Jonah in the whale right now, running from my purpose to find what I thought was better? I have prayed and prayed that I won't have to make these decisions any more. And yet here I am faced with another one. Anxiety attacks are becoming my norm as one after another challenge presents with no sign of abating. And tomorrow I am meeting someone who wants to try to convince me to stay. Which, if it were to work out, I estimate would cost me several thousand dollars more to accomplish.

If there's some thing I'm supposed to learn here, someone please tell me. If there's some direction I can't see, what is it? Because right now I can't stop counting the days until I can return to the place I have roots, which I also hate for other reasons, and pick up the pieces of a life, all the while doubting if some breakthrough isn't just around the bend.

I can't make this decision.

God in the toilet

So I live in a part of the world where some toilets don't have seats...we refer to them as squatters, which tells you what you need to know.  So I went into the only toilet in my workplace and thought, "oh crap!" Literally, someone had missed.  Not terribly, but enough to be very apparent.  I was wracked about what to do.  This is the only toilet for men.  If someone comes in and sees me leave, they'll assume I did it because I'm foreign and people assume we can't do this stuff right.

Maybe I could slip out quickly before anyone noticed, but if they came in and waited, I'd be screwed.  If that happens, I'd have to point it out and say it wasn't me, which would look the more suspicious, so I'd be forced into an uncomfortable examination of the evidence to prove it wasn't me..."it isn't fresh, see".  But then it might be worse if they just saw me leave because then I'd not be able to explain at all and they'd just assume, and there would be this background buzz that I could never be certain wasn't because they thought I was foul or incompetent...or incontinent, as the case may be.  Even if it was just in my own head, I'd continually be wondering if that wasn't what they were thinking.  And the culprit would certainly not downplay the assumption that it was the foreigner, if he didn't actively promote it, should it come up...or down as it were.

Maybe I could climb out the window and slip back in another way...but no, the office windows looked out on the same courtyard right beside that window along with other windows all around the court, and the foreigner climbing out the window would definitely be noticed.  So that was out.

Cleaning products were in the closet right beside me, but again, what if someone came in and saw me digging through that closet...I'd be forced to explain, and there we go back into scenario 1.

All of this of course happened in milliseconds.  That was when I looked around and noticed there was a toilet brush in the stall...why?...who cares!  It was there!  God bless it and God bless me, I was saved by a common $1.00 toilet brush!  I fired up the flush and scrub that thing like my life depended on it...well at least my reputation...which was already in doubt after a medicine reaction made me nearly pass out for a moment a few weeks ago. It passed quickly, but nonetheless, I was forced to be carried through the facility on a stretcher despite my constant pleas that I was quite capable of walking.

But merciful God, thank you for that toilet brush.  This is a silly story, though every word of it is true.  And honestly, it reveals a vanity in me, which though common, is no less a vanity.  But I am thankful for the small mercy.

One thing is certain: toilet brushes have now become a symbol of God's grace and provision.  I'll never look at them the same way again.

New World

I have not posted in a while because I moved around the world. Yes literally, I'm now in a timezone 13 hours from my previous. This move has not been easy and I was reluctant to do it. But here we are. Now it's about survivng, adapting, thriving. Which is doubtful right now. These kind of challenges are highly emotional and bring out underlying issues.

So why did I do it? Simply, I wanted to get out of the boat. I wanted to walk on the waves. Secondly, I wanted to change the story of the rich young ruler. I didn't want to look back on my life and know that when told what I needed to be perfect, I went away sad. No I literally gave most everything away and gave up my life for this purpose.

And it's kicking my butt. Work is pointless. I get paid well to do basically nothing and am treated politley as if I'm in the way most of the time or given zilly llittle things just so I don't totally do nothing. Sounds good? Yeah, try it awhile. Nowhere to hang your hat. Nothing to get up for in the morning. Then there's family. We are much more in each others' space here and I am so far the only one with a schedule to force me out. So when I get home there's two bored people starving for attention I don't have to give. Problems to solve, fears to assuage. My teen is the worst. Needier than when an infant, fully capable of stepping out more, but too scared to do it. And when I push him out of the nest she flies into a rage at me.

Then there's the worst part, our apartment, provided by my employer in an old wooden structure with upstairs neighbors that are extremely loud on the floor, like hours of pounding, dropping, falling. I don't even really know if they are that loud in terms of decibels. Objective evidence is hard to get, but in any case, I find myself getting more and more agitated as it goes on. Some noises send me over the edge and I break something or scream, or collapse into full panic attack. I shake, sweat, heart pounds. I thought I might have some latent PTSD. But the  I read about misophonia, which is a neurological condition that causes these same reactions. Just perfect. Another rare and unheard of illness to confirm, cope with, and explain for the rest of my life. But it matches my history. I have always been very sensitive to overhead house noises and bass through walls. Like, if a neighbor has a stereo on, I have paced the floor for hours fighting the urge to go beat their door in and destroy the infernal machine. Now I'm trapped inside the machine and I can't take it.

I have started counseling and the therapist is recommending a psychiatrist...good luck way out here on the edge of the world. I talked to my employer and for cultural reasons I completely don't understand we can't get the people to be quiet. Though they may not physically be Bable to be quiet enough if I really do have a condition. So their idea to move us to a free standing quiet house is probably best. God, I'm hoping.

I even asked them if it would be easier just to let me go and I'd go home. But they didn't want to do that. We have a lead on a house, so please soon!

I don't know what I'm doing. I can't analyze or fix myself and I need lots of help to live here. I can completely understand why Peter feared and began to sink. I'm going down fast and can only say, "Lord, help me". You see there's no solid ground out here. It isn't all bad. There are points of grace and light, even some angels that don't know it. But this is hard to do.

Mindscape

Today my son asked me a thought provoking question. As any reader of this blog knows, I am a naturally dark and therefore often angry person. But he is just getting to the age to see that. So as I mentioned some of my negative perceptions of things, he observed that I frequently see things like that and asked what the world must look like from inside my head.

While many may find this disheartening, I am so aware of this fact about myself that I did not run from it, but replied, "It's pretty dark in here."  The question stuck with me though; how do I express it to people? What does the world look like to me? Some may paint in pictures, but I am much more capable in words, so I will try.

Like anyone, my internal landscape is varied and changes in its own seasons and weathers.  And while I am in any one of those, it necessarily colors what the others look like. So the best I can give is the current conditions and climate with your understanding that it is not always so and may be themed quite differently at another juncture.

The skies here are often grey. Clouds roll thick and mists are common, ranging to dense fogs. The terrain is rugged with crags and sharp edged stones all around. Near peaks obscure large areas of vision. Air ranges in the hot humid arena but frequently dips into chilling cold.

Never far away is the barren windswept tableland of the tough-minded where no hint of green softness breaks the flat desolation until the sky meets it. Here are the hermits and ascetics, ever trying to rid themselves of the stains and distractions of the world while ever becoming harsher and more stone-like in their bearing for all their intention toward good.

Near there is the dense Mirkwood frought with demons and every kind of rending, demoralizing creature that feasts on the despair and self-loathing of its victims. They often range outside their haunts seeking to trick, trap or drag me into their lairs. But their favorite tactic is to build paths that innocenty wend through pleasanter lands until they unexpectedly end in the terrible mirk such that the unwary traveler will suddenly find himself in their clutches.

But it isn't all that bad. Sun does shine from time to time and I encounter delicate grottos of lush moss trickling with water and speckled with shimmering flowers and dappled light. I have seen vast deep oceans as slick as glass and raging like titans. Rain is often refreshing and mercifully frequent. And there are springs in the most unlikely places; some the tiniest bubbling, others strong enough to feed streams that water green vales under clear gentle skies. Here is where I most often have four legs and a cold nose. Here is where the Shepherd lives. Though he is always about in the harsher lands where I am on two feet and never far when I try to find him, or he needs to find me.

So this is the briefest sketch of my internal continent that shapes me, colors my actions and responses, and governs my decisions and opinions. I hope it sheds some light into who I am and why I am the way I am.

Fear

What is fear?  We all feel it, but what is it?  A feeling?  More than a feeling, it can have physical manifestations that grow beyond what we can control.  We have a hard time getting rid of it, so we avoid it, disguise it, find ways to convince ourselves it isn't fear.

Fear has to do with threat.  This can be very credible, but most often is not.  We perceive a threat rather than register a real one.  Is it possible to live without fear?  Many would say no.  But I believe it's possible.

Fear has to do with perception, and threat.  Perception is easily altered.  Threat can only be dispelled in terms of consequence.  If the threat is empty, it ceases to be a threat.  What consequences? Pain of some kind and death.  These are really the only two.

Death is not a fear for me.  It truly isn't.  I know that in death I will move beyond hurt.  I will find peace.  For long reasons I don't want to argue right now I am convinced of this.  And if I'm wrong the only other possibility is that I cease to exist...which still places me beyond the reach of harm.  If there is no life beyond death, then what's the point anyway.  So no fear there.

But pain is more difficult.  Physical pain can be intense prior to death.  Emotional and mental pain can be debilitating.  Yes, pain is what I fear at the root of all fears.

I need a way to lift above or beyond pain.  I can't do this in myself.  But God promises I will not be given more than I can bear.  He says he keeps the steadfast in peace.  He says he works for my good.  The problem is if I believe it.

Yes, the root of fear is distrust.  Can I trust God to lead me?  Can I trust him to help me avoid pain?  Do I need to experience pain so I can cease to fear it?  Do I need to experience a place where my perception of safety and control are obliterated so I can trust more?

Why can I dive into the ocean, climb a mountain, run through the wilderness fearing nothing, but can't shake my trepidation at what lies ahead?  Is this fear or prescient warning?  If I'm wrong what happens?  Something for my good.  If I'm right what happens?  Something good.  Can I trust this?  I want to trust this.  I want to see it more than anything.  I want to walk on the water.  I want to tred the storm, face the lions, the flames, the giants with no fear.

God can I do this?  Please give me a sign and the ability to understand it.  Knock me on my butt with it because I'm dense.  I want you.  I don't want to fail.  I'm about to free fall and God I hope you're there again.

Applied

Recently, I've been dealing with some serious decisions.  I'm not going into them specifically.  It's more about how I'm making them and facing them.

It is stretching me in some ways I hadn't noticed needed stretching.  That's when the story of Jesus and the Rich Young Ruler came to mind.  I realized this is my story right now.  I'm that guy.

The story is that a wealthy young man came up to Jesus and, calling him Teacher, asks what he has to do to receive eternal life.  Jesus says, "You know the commandments."  To which the man replies, "I've done all that since I was a kid."  Obviously not convinced this would do it for him.  Jesus looks on him with affection at this and says, "You still lack one thing (one version says, "if you would be perfect"): sell everything you own and give to the poor, so you'll have treasure in heaven, then take up your cross and follow me."  The man goes away sad at this because it says he had great wealth.

A couple things jump out to me.  One, the guy really wants to know.   He came to find Jesus and he knows keeping the rules is good, but he needs more.  Jesus realizes this and loves the guy for it.  Jesus isn't being dismissive or argumentative.  So I think he tells him what he really needs to do.  But the guy is obviously struggling with how to do it.

Here's the thing.  I'm being faced with this exact choice.  While I'm certainly not rich by American standards, I am above the median in my area and worldwide, that's in the untouchable category.  I lack nothing material.  I can afford anything I want within stretch of reason.  I'm far better off than many people around me.  But I'm faced with an opportunity that will require me to sell everything I own and leave this life.

So I know what this guy was feeling.  I have everything we're taught to strive for.  Everything we're told is a blessing.  I have a great stable job, in my field,  with lots of freedom and good benefits.  I have no debt and my kid's college is totally paid for.  I could sit back and save up, travel, do good with my money, and retire comfortably into a life where I could do the good work I want to do fulltime...of course none of this is certain, but barring unforeseen changes, it'll happen.  But here I have this choice foisted in my lap.  I have asked Jesus to make me like him.  To perfect me.  And here I have the same dang choice.  Family is on board, advisors are on board, friends are on board.  I'm just reluctant to give up this stuff, the security of material things and familiar ways.  What if I'm wrong?  What if this or that happens?  But at the root, I know what I'm worried about.

You see, I'm this guy!  Jesus has just said, "You can stay, you know the commandments, you have lived it; do that."  But I'm still not satisfied and I asked the question, half afraid of the answer...and I got the blasted answer.  If I want to be perfect, I have to sell all my possessions (or give them away) and step into this life which is no slouchy opportunity and quite an honor at my age, but potentially much less materially lucrative and less stable.  I've counted the cost.  It's not totally unknown to me.  But what if...what will I be capable of?  what kind of life will open up to me?  Maybe the life of adventure and discovery I've dreamed of.  Maybe a life of peace and goodness I never thought actually possible.  Maybe a disaster that burns away all my dross and refines me into polished folded steel, a true Glass Dog.  I'll never know if I don't go.

So here's the thing.  The story ends there.  We don't know what the guy did.  But if he is me, I can imagine he thought about it just like I am.  We are of one mind here in some mystical way, I'm sure.  I know I'm loved, that's why Jesus offered me this opportunity.  It is building that one thing I lack in me.  How much do I want it?  Will I sell everything to buy the pearl of great price, to mix in another story?  When I see it like this, this strange feeling overcomes me and from deep inside my soul jumps up and yells, "Here I am, SEND ME!"  Yes!  I want to go!  I want to do it.  I am a follower of Jesus, not in name only, but in heart and action.  I have to.  What else can I do?  I asked to get out of the boat and deuce if he didn't say, "Come."  And I'm standing here like, "Well that wasn't what I expected."  And he's saying, "Did you think I wasn't serious?  Did you think I wasn't real?  You don't have to.  Take the blue pill and all is well, I won't even mention it.  But if you want to be perfect..."

Good God, I'm coming!  Don't let me fall!  I'm about to walk on water.

Burning

**NOTE: this blog is real and raw.  Changing or omitting names won't protect identities of people referenced.  So I employ pronoun swapping to further confuse identity.  This blog is NEVER a slam to individuals, but a means of processing ideas.**

I have not posted in a while because of something I was going to write about, but just recently something happened that has upset me and I'm burning about it.  So I will write it out.  Then maybe I'll be free to process the other stuff.

I think the biggest thing that gets under my skin is lack of respect.  You might think this odd coming from a punk, they not being known for respect.  But the truth is, punks are actually very big on respect.  In fact, it's such a big deal that we refuse to pay false respect.  It must be earned.  If you set yourself up over someone else, we're going to call you down.  And that is the crux of the problem, really.

Respect is about boundaries.  People who take liberties tread all over those boundaries.  Some people just never seem capable of understanding another's point of view.  But there again, that's what respect is for.  You don't have to understand.  Just follow the rules of general politeness and all is good.

You see, I have this old friend that I was once very close to, in fact closer than my own sibling.  He had shown me some generosity that makes me feel somewhat indebted even over a decade later.  But early on, it was clear certain people she was related to had no idea about personal boundaries and I would not get along with that person.  I mean serious leech personality, like barging into your house uninvited, refusing to leave when I repeatedly told them I had to leave myself, expecting us to do things without asking, forcing my friend to be 2 hours late for a 2 hour event that the other was not invited to, etc. 

But that's ok.  We don't have to like everyone our friends like.  The problem is that my friend eventually became inseparable from this negative influence, probably from good motives.  I tried to advise him about the negative changes I was seeing in her, but he made it very clear that my advice was not appreciated.  So I backed off and we lost all serious contact for about a decade.

Then she shows up again like nothing has changed...leech now fully affixed such that the two are never apart...ever.  And as you'd expect, my friend has now taken on many of those negative traits, interrupting conversations and then monopolizing them.  Ordering people around.  Insisting on uncomfortable topics.  Once, he invited himself and leech to a party neither were invited to intentionally because of the leech, then made a scene at the party in front of everyone asking if they weren't supposed to be there, and when we tried to just side step it saying, "you're here now." They both proceeded to start altering things like music, temperature, etc. in a rented facility.  And when we refused to comply, they went to get staff to do it.  Which was where I put my foot down and leech waited outside for a few minutes until my friend finally couldn't take it and left.

So fine, whatever, right?  But through a remnant of old relationship, this friend became privy to some personal information about my family.  Which she then of course told Leech.  So for the past couple months Leech has kept insisting on "advising" us about it, openly in public.  We've downplayed, we've walked away, we've even told them straight out to stop before this information gets out and causes unnecessary problems for us and for others.

The last straw came this week when Leech accosted my son about it in public and wouldn't let go.  I didn't know at the time.  But upon finding out, I had to confront them.  I tried to do it privately, avoiding unnecessary embarrassment, sticking to the topic at hand and not old issues, etc.  But then my friend's response was something along the lines of, they hadn't told anyone and it must just be a game of telephone gone wrong, but while we're on the topic, we know you're afraid, but that's why you shouldn't have secrets."

BOOM!!!  I went through the roof!  It's a good thing this came in writing or I'd have had it out with them for sure.  I couldn't have controlled myself and I would have verbally laid them out as all the pent frustration gushed out.

They couldn't be more wrong about my concern nor could they have missed the point any further!  They don't get to make a judgement on this!  Not accepted!  And then they were clueless enough to ask if they could come to another event I was doing. Not even, "is it still ok."  Just, "how do we sign up!" 

So after multiple attempts to respond, I finally went with something to the effect of here's the line.  Don't cross it, or I will not hesitate to let them know in open and certain terms.  I have severed ties with these people to the greatest degree that I can.  But I have no doubt, they won't get it and they'll come prancing in to some event as if nothing is wrong.

Good God!  Help me forgive this because right now, I have no desire to.

This is why

Today I saw a middle-aged man who had lost more than 100 pounds to cancer.  He was aged beyond recognition and so weak he could not stand for long.  He walked with a slow shuffling gait.  He used to play guitar in the band at his church and was back on the stage today.

He had to sit in a chair as the guitar slunk almost flat on his lap.  Arms that were no thicker than the neck of the guitar worked to play in a way that used to be effortless as breathing.

At one point in a song he was so moved he slumped forward almost double.  The guitar fell off his lap and hung like a punk bassist.  He kept playing.  When he looked up his eyes glistened.

I don't really know this man.  I don't know his story or his beliefs.  I just know it isn't likely he'll live and if he does it will be a very different life from what he's known.  But for all that.  For all his disappointment, fear, and suffering.  For all his potential misunderstandings, flaws, false beliefs.  In that moment, it was clear that he knew where his need and his hope and his courage lied.

And I call this man a brother.  This is why I'm a Christian.

Goodbye Kansas

Fair warning on this one: we're going head first down the rabbit hole and Kansas is going bye-bye. So here's your blue pill. If you keep reading, it's your own risk.


Ok. So I've written before about my condition. I am highly sensitive to lots of things. While you might sneeze, I'll have flu like reactions. While you might have indigestion, I go to the hospital. This makes holidays with obligatory feasts and ample treats particularly difficult. I often have weird dreams following food that my body doesn't want, so what follows could be related. But it struck me much different. Those dreams have a particular tone and themes. This was like other dreams I've had, if we want to call them that, but not like my usual body signals.

You might want to apply a rational interpretation to what I'm about to relate and that's fine, I've done that too. There could very well be more of gravy than of grave about this, to borrow from Mr. Dickens. But I'm not convinced that's all there is to it. In my experience, nothing is ever just this or that, but inextricably linked with everything else. So I'm going to write it as I experienced it and leave it there. Red pill down...diving into the hole.

You may have read about my past experiences in spiritualism. When one does that, certain things change and don't go back.  Like many things in life, once you cross a line, you can't uncross it.

So last night, through a series of dream events, I found myself on a dock in a swamp with a couple unidentified people. There was a stroller with a baby in it. Somehow it was brought up that it was now widely accepted that it was not Lucifer who had been responsible for a certain unclear historical event involving a baby, but in fact, Lilith. I was alarmed at the mention because in spiritual realms to mention is to court the presence of, and in waking life...ok, we'll go with that...in waking life I had encountered lilith before and she is terrifying in the true sense.

Just then, as the dread of how she might appear was coming on me, a snake-like tentacle glided up on the dock from the water. The end had been cleaved off like an octopus in a Japanese restaurant. I yelled to the others that she was here and quickly kicked the writhing thing away only to find another reaching up. They grabbed the stroller and turned it over, spilling what had been the baby into the water, but fortunately it was now only blankets. (Thank God! My dreams are not always so sanitized.)

My heart quivered within me as a white shapeless molten form rose up from the water with the serpent arms. It quickly began to take a female shape as if moving through stages of plasticene scuplture until even the snake tails became human arms. There she stood with black hair and hellish eyes, a demonic half-smile on the well-formed mouth. She was larger than a human by at least double and stood in the swampy water while still extending above my head where I stood on the dock.

She addressed me familiarly. I quickly remembered in my fear that the only course was to resist and call for help. Demons have no inherant power, they are merely self-negations, perversions of created things. So in reality, they can only decieve and frighten. But if you've never encountered one like this, trust me, that fear is enough to make you forget your wits.

Therefore, rather than answer a single word and open the door for her, I rebuked that she was not wanted. Like Saruman in LOTR, if you let them speak, they'll get in your head in a heart beat. Like Gozer, you have to clear your mind. Or since that's impossible, you have to fill it with truth and higher power, which they can't combat. So I continued to shout that I was a son of Jesus (not sure where that wording came from) and that she had no power over me. She had no power here. That was all I could yell and I clung to it fiercely while trying to stay between her and the others.

She fought back with everything she had and the battle lasted several minutes.

 As I gained some confidence I began to thrust my presence forward at her, like a spiritual shove with every affirmation and rebuke. Finally, she turned and fled, gliding over the water to a nearby road. I turned to chase her, wanting to kill her once and for all. She flew into a box truck, like UPS, only white like a bread truck, and drove away.

I quickly gave up pursuit realizing that it was not for me to kill one like her. Only to resist...which I had done...and she had fled...SHE had FLED! The mother of demons that had engendered such fear on my part had fled at my resistance! The original succubus that had plagued me for so many years in various forms had been driven out of my mind...in very literal dream imagery!

I woke with a start thinking I had only just drifted off to sleep, but it was morning. The battle had taken all night, but it was over.

Is this a bit of badly digested food? A phantasm of my hypersensitive body? Maybe, but maybe that pharmacaea opened the door for something more. Is the demon driven out? Is the hold broken on me? It's too soon to tell.

But I think it was Black Elk who said that you can tell a dream from a vision by how well it stays in your mind when you wake. This has shaken me to the point that I had to look more into it this morning.

I dared to look up lilith and to my surpise, I found she is often portrayed as partly serpent. I tell you, no where in my memory does that reference occur. I can't even recall looking for images of her. She is also often drawn with a certain dark-haired appearance, which she had assumed in my encounter. I'm not making conclusions. I can rationally surmise an explanation that still perfectly suits the outcome.  But you know what? I don't really care what really happened, or what "real" even means. I care only about True, and in any case, this is a true story. Ding Dong the witch is gone! And I'm celebrating that for all it's worth. Thank God for deliverance and I pray it's for good!

Perfect World

Imagine a world where every person was supported in developing their skills to the fullest potential.  But in this world, people don't have to compete for a few choice jobs, opportunities, etc.  For every person, a perfectly suited life is available.  A fulfilling job that uses their skills can afford them a home that perfectly provides their needs for shelter, space, and style.  They'll earn enough to afford all the necessities and a good deal of comforts.

In this world, social relationships are most important.  Society is built to encourage interaction and division is a thing of the past.  People are different, but differences aren't a source of contention, nor even of passive separation, but truly integrated and celebrated.

Power is not abused.  People necessarily need to have coordinators and conductors, "leaders" in a sense, but only in so far as function without an ounce of personal pride or cowtowing from those being coordinated.  These "leaders" will fully understand that they are the servants of and dependent on those under them.

Likewise in such a culture of respect, no one would be looked down on for the position they occupy, nor despise doing work that is "beneath them" because there is no hierarchy.  Concepts like 'beneath', would be purely and literally locational.

Science has advanced to the point that people most fully understand the integration of the world.  And where they don't, they know enough to stop manipulating things in damaging ways.  Health of humans extends to animals, plants, and the world as a whole.  People understand that every action affects the whole system and the system affects every action.  Because of this, sickness is a thing of the past.  Pollution is no more.  Mental illness is eradicated.

Because of the emotional and physical health of people, when things start to break down, it does not become a train wreck, cascade failure, but is absorbed in the understanding embrace of society and the world.  Truly healing and restoring such that even crime disappeared.

Sounds great right?  Regardless of what you believe, I bet you were reading this thinking how it fits your ideal world.  But I got this directly from Jesus.  This is what he taught.  If you didn't recognize that, I invite you to look at the Bible (particularly the first five books of the New Testament) with open eyes this Christmas and see if I'm not right.

Slipping

I feel myself slipping down again.  It's not a good feeling, but something I've grown used to.  It feels like a dark cloud forming.  I'm more on edge, quicker to burst out angry, more likely to take offence at things, less likely to be as busy as I usually am. 

Normally I keep the demons at bay through constant occupation.  Even rest is occupation.  Sometimes I welcome getting sick, even though I fight like mad to NOT get sick.  Once I am, I can just let go and rest.  But in these times, the lack of doing is more just because it all seems futile and worthless.

People always say, "Let me know if you feel that way."  But that's just the problem isn't it?  I'm never going to...If I could I wouldn't need the help.  And when I feel good enough to let someone know, they don't believe it, don't remember it, don't notice it, or aren't around to be able to.  We'll see if this post ever makes it onto the blog.  I'm going to try hard to let it stand.

I don't even know what help would be.  No amount of talking it through will do anything about it.  I've read enough on CBT and tried it to know it won't stick.  That stuff all requires a willing participant.  Sure there's probably a good deal I don't know about that stuff, but the effort to sift through the crap with someone to get to the good stuff just makes it seem like more of a burden.

But I know it will pass.  It always does.  I surround myself with precautions when I feel it coming enough to avoid serious consequences.  I'll still go to work, look the same as always, joke, etc.  I know from seeing it in others that if you know what to look for, you can tell the difference.  But most people can't or don't bother.  It's truly a closed world.  If you haven't been there, you don't understand.  You can't.

So what helps?  I don't know.  Time.  Prayer. I always delve deeper into those regions during these times.  Someone seeing it for what it is and piercing the cloud.  It happens on rare occasions and those people are instantly locked in my heart forever.

But like I said, I know it will pass and the only way past is through.  We'll see how it goes this time.

Seen

It's late and this blog is raw, so I hope it explains, if not excuses, my waxing poetic. Sometimes I just see something or in this case someone. See deeper than what is visible on the surface, deeper than what they may even hope to project. Who knows, it may all just be my own mental projections and fancy. But this late and in this blog space I'm going to take my perception as granted. Truthfully,  whether this is factually true or not, my perception and therefore my reaction in the moment, are valid.

It's like the veil parts just enough to see the reality. Like seeing with Elvish eyes. Or better still with Glass Eyes, as in the story of Glass Dogs I wrote.

And the one this is about may actually read this. If so, you'll know who you are. You are a dark princess. You can find the beauty in darkness and ugliness. You sometimes cast yourself as a devil, but I see you and I know this is far from the truth because like Harry and Luna we both see the Thestrals. Not of death, but of true demons. And no one who knows this reality can do anything but react away from it.

I see you and you are beautiful. One of the Haibane, grey feathered angels.  You feel so deeply the slight wind of an offhand remark can send you searching and doubting how you might have caused pain.

You fear and doubt and struggle and you know how to put on a brave face. Sometimes we have to powder those grey wings. But your heart is so large it bursts out in spite of you and I for one, love the elegant mess you try to hide.

Don't worry. I can be trusted with this. I won't even let on more than a moment's slightly deeper look or slightly warmer hug. We are kindred. I see you and I think you see me too. And I want you to know that I see even deeper. Perhaps deeper than you see yourself. Inside that beautifully churning complexity you are, there is a radiantly gorgeous daughter of Truth and Goodness that makes you shimmer in glorious living light. Entrained with all the life you have given, all the good you have done, even in spite of yourself. Elven princess. The King's lost daughter. The terrifying Pan will bring you home at last.

You are lovely and loving. Perfect imperfection. And for all you are and are not, all that is you, just as you are. I see you in there. And even though I know there is far more I don't see in the infinite spaces inside your heart, I see enough to love you.

Proximity, Novelty, and Frequency

When something happens like the Las Vegas shooting, it is natural for people to talk about it for awhile.  But a glaring cultural and personal fallacy is revealed here.

At risk of sounding cold, this event is not unique.  Random violence and bloody death of regular people occurs all over the world all the time.  These are all tragic acts committed by tragically damaged people.  They are all available to us in near real time.  Most of us can't even say we don't KNOW it happens in a purely logical sense. (We may not THINK about it, but we KNOW it if we take a second.)  Yet most of us never acknowledge that it occurs.

So why is it such a big deal this time?

The answer is simply the perception of proximity.  Because it occurs in a place we might go, or relatively close to a place we currently are.  But this is a fallacy, because if you live in Florida, for example, you are physically closer or equally close to places where this occurs all the time.  Namely, the Caribbean and Central America.

You might say, "but this is our country."  Sure.  But there is no physical barrier between those places and this one.  I can be in Mexico from Tampa in a day's drive.  And truthfully, that statement reveals a flaw and a fallacy.  The flaw: cultural bigotry, and the fallacy: novelty.

Because this event is different from what we usually experience, we take note.  This is a fallacy because for the vast majority of Americans our lives have not been disrupted by the event.  If we hadn't heard about it yet, as would have been the case 200 years ago, we would still be going on as if nothing happened.  So why do we feel different because we know of it?  Again, I'm not saying this isn't tragic nor terribly affecting for those directly involved or with family and friends who were.  Hang with me, I'm going somewhere with this.  The reason is simply because of how we associate the event.  It FEELS closer, newer.

Lastly, we are affected because of the sheer frequency of reports.  What was in reality one event with a finite number of tragedies is reported and discussed endlessly, even when there is nothing new or only marginally new.  The truth is we can't do anything with all that info anyway, so it just serves to rile us up, which is exactly the goal of the commercially driven news.  Please do us all a favor and stop using those sources.  You do realize that Houston is still a wreck, but you never hear about it any more because it doesn't generate the traffic after a while. 

This feeling of inescapability is a fallacy.  Statistically, it is now only slightly more likely that it will happen to you.  In REALITY, it is NO more likely, not one bit, now than it was prior.  It's just in your head.

What troubles me most is the inconsistency.  We can be so unaffected by the same or worse suffering for such silly reasons as it isn't in a place or context we connect with and it isn't thrown up in our face constantly.  But then very affected by something that is in reality no different, simply because our mind associates it differently!  This should bother us.