RSS

Tag Archives: pain

kaboom my guts

It’s about a guy trying to hold it together while it all falls apart.

Truer words were never spoken. There is a panic. There is a desperation. Remember the scene in Forest Gump where Bubba is sitting there after being shot and he is trying to put his guts back in? Bubba does this amazing job of portraying the madness. He focuses on picking up his spilt entrails instead of the inevitable fact that he is totally screwed. His life is completely over, a moot subtext, a lost cause and he is trying to do the scoop and run with his alimentary canal.

I have felt that odd necessary sense of denial. IT is like the truth eludes you. It feels like at that very moment you have to believe in a unicorn because the horse is in the desert with no name. There is a scene in my life when I was shot. It was self inflicted, and more emotional then physical. I had a moment in time that I was holding all of my life in my hands. I was holding my career, my business, my wife, my kids, all of it, in my hands. I knew it was no longer part of me, but all I could do was to ask people to help me shove it back in. I knew in an instant that the horse that was wondering the desert was me. I knew I wouldn’t ever find my way back home and I had no idea how to move through the desert.

I asked many people. I begged for solution. I went to church, spiritual retreat, AA, talked to the guru, no one knew. I wondered and tried to bury myself in the sand. I remember the pain of losing my daughters. I can feel it anytime. It is devastating and humiliating. I want to fix it, I want to go back. I have this image of trying to put the pin back in the grenade.

It took my a long time to take any steps at all. I stood and peered into the distance in every direction. All I could see was absence. I couldn’t see anything.  I have friends that talk about the darkness. To me, it was blinding light. The heat was unbearable.

It has been years since that. I took cautious steps. I stumbled, bumbled, ran, walked, tripped, fell and got back up again to do it all over. Every once in awhile I get a reprieve. I get a text from my daughters. It is a moment of bliss as I trudge in the heat. Or I will get a kind response to an email, a friend reaches out. There are moments. Sometimes they are uplifting, sometimes remind me of the pain. However, I wouldn’t  ever not receive them. It is a blessing. Its a glimpse of the unicorn and I believe it.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on May 14, 2017 in children, journey

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

reverberation

reverberation

What cuts your soul?

It seems like the death of a soul is apparent. Suddenly, there is no life. The will is moot. The shoulder slump as if the weight of living is overbearing. There is no chance of continuing on the same path. Movement has stopped. Direction is absent. The soul is dead. Its very apparent when you see it when someone has crashed down. The rock bottom reverberates with excitement as it claims another soul Bewildered and lost, the soulless corpse tries to gather up the misused and recently departed soul as if they were guts spilled in the savages of war. The soul will pretend to return and the corpse will walk again, aimless and lost. The darkness engulfs the being. They become a black hole of existence. A vacuum of life force consumes them and many who get around them. The silence is deafening. They search for giving souls, the extreme light. They devour the light until it cant be repleated, clamoring for more. The rock bottom reverberates some more.

It isn’t the desolate who hold a monopoly on lost souls and rock bottoms. The more adept at living without a soul are the individuals who have more to lose. The successful, rich, famous, beautiful people are much more likely to scoop up the lost and departed soul and try and run.  They scramble and grab whatever is near to fill the whole left. They stuff money and popularity into the vacuous inner self like packing peanuts. The density of the soul is tainted by the empty offering. The Soulless mill around life accumulating more packing peanuts to fill an ever empty soul. They orchestrate large health care deals and billion dollar business deals to fill the dead space. It leeches the light from others around them, gathering souls for the reverberating bottom. Sooner or later, to exist in a world of vacuums, one either absorbed or escapes.

But what cuts the soul?  Death or absence can be easier to see, but what of the injured? What of the ones who ae losing parts of their soul in a long battle to survive and fight the absorption? We try all kinds of things to fight it, we get angry, we get drunk, we get depressed, we isolate. IT becomes paranoia, loneliness, addiction. We have lost the will to fight. We have lost the ability. The soul takes a beating. The soul is cut and bleeding. It cries out. It cries when love ones are hurt and draining. It screams at injustice and pain. It bellows as it hears, feels, sees the receding of the light. The soul fills its own space, but the life warrior is tired. “He walks around like Charlie Brown, full of Hope, eyes to the ground.” . If the bleeding isn’t addressed, the wounds dressed, the soul will weaken. Through the wounds, the soul is vulnerable and drawn out by the vacuums around it. The soul needs nurtured. The soul needs rest. The soul needs fed. The soul needs remembered. The soul needs LOVE.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on March 27, 2017 in journey, life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

my daughters, I love you

I stood on the mountain top again. I climbed to the top of the world and looked around a bit. The air is brisk and thin up here. There is a bitter wind that seems to leap frog up my spine. The view is breathtaking, but I muse that there isn’t much breath to be taking at this moment. I have already spent the time holding up my fists like a Rocky statue. I have yelled to hear the echo reminding me I am alive and alone. I sit in the crossed leg position and ponder life. I feel like the guru that is rumored to be at the top of the mountain. I sit and consider. I am not considering anything in particular, just musing. I am alive, alone, and have a leaped frog spine as I sit on the mountain top at the top of the world.

I have laughed and celebrated. Suddenly, I feel myself begin to weep. I am not sure where it is coming from and I know this is not a good oxygen choice. I can’t stop. I feel the pain of my daughters. I can feel their hurts and hearts. It screeches like a carrion bird, tearing at my soul. I want to fix it and to protect them, despite how they hold me away. I weep, my heart weeps, my soul weeps. If I had a guitar, it would gently be weeping as well.

I stop weeping and feel emotions from loved ones and loved ones lost creeping up my spine to be leap frogged by the wind. The emotions are bitter and run the gambit. They are foreign only in they aren’t mine. I have had similar feelings, but felt them as I feel them. Now I see these like the recognition of a childhood school mate decades later, familiar and foreign all at once. I am annoyed and embarrassed that I cant screen these out like I usually can. The thin air, the time alone, the wind chill has exhausted my defense and the emotions slither in. I’ve felt them before from these same sources. To be confronted with them again is painful. It is also a relief. It is a reminder I am alive, I am open, I am connected. More importantly, it reminds me that I love.

 
1 Comment

Posted by on January 26, 2017 in children, life, Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Counting with Mom

“Count your blessings, ” mom said. And then Id get the look when I started counting like the Count on Sesame Street. Good times.count

How come we only say this when stuff sucks? After I won the Pulitzer and the World Piece champion of all time trophies on the same day, not a single reporter said, “Count your blessings, Mister.” Its like this conspiracy to remind you that you are whining. I don’t need the reminder. I know I am whining. I want what I cant have, and I want it now. And as long as you are hurrying on my order, I would like more. “More of what?” you may ask. More of everything. The next time someone tells me to count my blessings and I begin to count like the Count, I want that stuff to go on a long time. Bwah ha ha….

I recently decided I needed to do a gratitude list. I sat down and began to write down my blessings. I had 3 and got distracted for about a week. I spent time on the delayed, but completed list. Many of my blessings were tagged with hurts or losses. I was blessed with marriage, but am since divorced. I have had wonderful friends. I have lost many, some to death, some to attrition, most to time. Each blessing had a bedevilment. As I read the list, the beauty grew from the pain.

pain

I think that the directive to count my blessings from my mom wasnt some condemnation of my tribulations. She wasnt telling me to pull myself up from the bootstraps or have some stiff upper lip. She was saying that I ought remember the beauty that can come from pain. She was letting me know that even when things were hard, God is there with me. She was letting me see that all the things I cherish came from the growth it took to get there.

Thanks, Mom.

 

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on January 13, 2017 in journey, life, Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

minutes

There are 525,600 minutes in a year.

The average life span is still right around 70 years.

That’s 36, 792,000 minutes in a lifetime.

clock

I have heard several times in the last 4 days that 2017 has gotten off to a bad start. It is generally a minute or two that hurt and injured or scared the person. The incident last briefly. The reaction echoes in their heart and head.

There is a song about how do we count the year, “Seasons of love”. It postulates that we can count in minutes, or experiences. Those experiences can be positive or negative. We can count in tears or laughter. We can count in blessings or curses.

The reality is that I count in curses much more often then blessings. I’m not an Eeyore person and tend to think of myself as a realist and not a pessimist. It was just recently that I was reviewing my life and decision. I had focused on each of my negative outcomes. I lamented and grieved over the loss and pain I had endured. I am not belittling it or making lite of it, it was horrendous. However, I wasnt looking at the simple blessings.

I have had an opportunity to learn to trust myself to respond more often then I react. The times I havent blasted someone for not being or doing like I want have been less then a minute long. Brief encounters that I pause and consider first. The ripples have allowed me to know that I can be expected to respond appropriately. That echoes in my head.

I have learned that I can love. I can feel loved and connect with another human being. I can give of myself, and receive from another. I journey with a partner, rather than pathological entanglement. The brief moment that I say the words, “I love you,” takes seconds. The heart echoes for a lifetime.

I learned that I can admit I dont know. I can also discern truth and facts. It takes minutes at most, but I can draw conclusions. I can even conclude that I need help understanding. The ability to learn and consider rebounds in my head.

I can ache, hurt, long, and cry. In those minutes of turmoil and pain, I feel it is a lifetime. It feels like forever. The clock ticks only to mock my pain. But I can feel. I am no longer cut off from emotions. In that moment of pain, I also know I can heal. My heart grows.

heart

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on January 5, 2017 in journey, life, Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

break the ice

Do you remember the game, “Don’t break the Ice”? It was a stage and there were maybe 25 plastic ice cubes wedged into it. There was this red man in a chair that you would put in the middle of the ice. The goal was to knock out ice cubes until someone let the guy fall through the stage. And then you’d laughingly set it all up again and the guy would be perched, unfazed, on the ice once again.

I have this terrifying thought that life is like that. We are set up a foundation for our life, based on expectations, beliefs, emotions, etc. They fit together nicely and fill the stage. The world then chips away at our ice, piece by piece refuted or humiliated. We back bite, cheat, steal, lie, injure. It is a game of chip the other guys ice before yours is broken. We are sanctimonious and rationalize why we chip at the other ice.  “IT is for their own god.” “It is God’s Will.” “I injure you to protect others.”

The ice breaks and we fall. However, unlike our placid friend, we feel the cold water. We plummet in the depths. We struggle to breath as the water and the cold engulf us. We sink or swim. Sometimes the decision isn’t clear and we gulp water as we try and surface. Nearly drowning in the icy water. We crawl to the surface and laughingly rebuild the ice. We perch in our chair, grinning to face another round of the maddening and sickening game, shivering in fear, cold, and isolation.  Never bothering to question why we are out on the ice.

The ice feels solid. The ice feel real. Even though it is cold and cuts the fingertips. Even though it is slowly eroded by the water underneath and the chipping from life on life’s terms, we trust it. We believe in it. IT is tangible in a world of intangible. It is solid in a world of icy water. And so it lends comfort. It lends the illusion of safety. We can even imagine we are warm. “At least I am not in the water right now.” “I have more ice then that guy.”

Stand up, walk off the ice. IT isn’t easy. IT isn’t safe. You will be called back. You will be taunted. You will be told of expectations and rules and limits. You will be told that the rules cant be changed for you. You will be exposed. Its lonely because few people are ready to trust, honor, share, believe in anything but the ice and the water. Few people will ever take this voyage. Most who do, return to the chipping, to the sitting. Most sit in the chair of discontent, waiting for the ice to break.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on January 2, 2017 in journey, life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

ghosts

I’m sitting here alone in a much too big house, starting yet another year, watching the snow fall on a foreign and unfamiliar place. Ive done this a lot over the last few years. Nothing has been familiar or trustworthy. I have tried to find a solid to hold onto. I find myself grasping air, ghosts, at the best, liquid. When particularly afraid, I try to hold on tighter, which just makes me tired and more desperate. Ive been chasing ghosts, spectors, illusions, dreams, and lies.

It started a long time ago. I have always wanted the dream. I wanted to be happily married. I wanted to be popular, successful, brilliant, and tall. I led a façade life. IT was play acting. I was a good actor, well good enough to believe my own performance. I thought that was me. I pretended I was popular, successful, even brilliant. I never did get to be tall. As the turmoil of not being who I really was began to rip me apart, I ran. I was in full flight from reality. I hid. The separation of who I was grew from the truth. I chased the illusion of becoming what I wanted to be. I believed I could be what others wanted me to be. I kept running. I kept grasping. The wind ran through my fingers as I sank more and more into despair. The ghosts haunted me. They teased me. The pointed out how I failed. They showed me who I really was. Over 10 years ago, God spoke to me in a church basement through a group of people that also ran to ghosts. HE told me, “Find me or die.” He said I had a choice to keep moving away, or to stop and change directions. I have tried. I wanted life. I wanted to be whole. I wanted to be a real little boy. I learned. I clamored. I sought. I keep trying. But it feels lie chasing ghosts again. I feel the presence of the Spirit. I can see His hands, feel His love. When I try to hold it, it vanishes.

Since the original message, I chased several ghosts. I tried to chase the ghost of love. I asked for a time to heal my family. I sought real connection I was rejected and tried to seek heart through different ways. IT failed. The host turned on me, biting and hacking. IT was nasty. IT reminded me of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, when they open the Ark and the beautiful angel turns into a ugly spector. It kept getting worse. My screams and pain only fueled the vengence. The venom, the hate would leak from my wounds. I would lose my life, my kids, my illusions. I would be erased. I held onto the ghost of love, hoping that the love of the kids would outweigh the hate and hurt. It didn’t. I keep sharing my heart. I keep putting the whisper in the wind. I speak love. I speak connection. I speak truth and solid. MY wind is not as strong or present at this point. It aches.

I chase the illusion of success. I have struggled to rebuild a life and a career. I make decisions that I think are the right ones. It all seems to fall in line and then crumble. The illusion is maddening. It taunts me that the success of being who I am is not as important as what I do. I know it to be a lie, however it would be easier to give in to the lie. It would be easy to surrender to the false self again. Chasing the ghosts has worn me out.

I search for the ghost of love. I panic when it eludes me. I open myself to its wind and am met with cold and heartless breezes. The breeze hurt, it leave icicles on my ribs, shielding my heart from the warmth. I close myself again, deciding to not open up again, only to find myself aching once again. The world is so worried about being hurt, we cant open, we can no longer love without fear. Again, I am confronted by the same condition, “Find God or die.” I can fight for that connection to God’s Spirit or die, existing for chasing ghosts. The same ghosts that my heart and mind crave, desire, ache for.

I’m sitting in a foreign land, watching the snow fall, covering the world in ghosts. I’m afraid.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on January 1, 2017 in divorce, journey, life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

 
The Shameful Sheep

shit storms, shame, and stories that make you cringe

What Gives?

Big ideas in a tiny body

28 and Counting...

Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. -Mary Oliver

extraordinaryappreciator

Wandering in my wondering...

shellbegly91's Blog

A modern business theme

Lessons From the End of a Marriage

the Middle of Healing and the Beginning of a New Marriage

Connecting Dots...to God

Theology in Context

K E R M I T ' S space

Life is JUST RIGHT

Faith, Hope, Love, Serve | Shine Your Light

There is something inside me that has made me new and set me free

Beautiful Life with Cancer

Discovering the Gift

Globe Drifting

Global issues, travel, photography & fashion. Drifting across the globe; the world is my oyster, my oyster through a lens.

Handcuffs Hurt

Dan Madden

brokenchristianheart

This blog reflects the thoughts, feelings and confusion of a christian woman going through a divorce and the thoughts post-divorce.

Chronicles of Jazzmine Bankston

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."-C.S. Lewis

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Lydia Robbins

Hold on, let me write this down