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Friday, December 3, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
the light that failed
What is in a word? I guess that depends on how you read it. Words capture emotions, express ideas, rdflect ambitions. Words give life to a soul, like music and art. Spilling forth things locked away long ago within us. The words we use can be a light for us, or not. They can come from a well of hope, or the pit of despair. They can fail us, or we can fail them.
I used to write all the time. Usually some bs or another. Words spilled out from me unforced. Good or bad they came from me. They held joy and light at least for me. Sometimes I shared them, most times I didn't. They were my light first, get your own.
Then one day it stopped coming. The joy receded and my heart seemed to stop caring. The words were there, but the light was gone. I stopped seeing those words as anything more to me than words. They had no feeling, no emotion, no life. They were black and white, pen on paper. My light had failed.
We all have a light inside. It is anything that we put out total self into, whether hidden or seen. It may be all we have and what drives us. Maybe its faith, or music, or art. Maybe its the face and heart of god poured out by us and through us. And maybe we never know its all we have. Maybe we are the light that fails. The things that we pour out, words music art actions, their light is a reflection of what we are. We are the light they reflect. When our works stop, when our hopes and dreams stop, its because the light they reflected failed. My words didn't fail me. My dreams and hopes never failed me, I failed them. Now I have to live up to them again and be the light worth reflecting.
I used to write all the time. Usually some bs or another. Words spilled out from me unforced. Good or bad they came from me. They held joy and light at least for me. Sometimes I shared them, most times I didn't. They were my light first, get your own.
Then one day it stopped coming. The joy receded and my heart seemed to stop caring. The words were there, but the light was gone. I stopped seeing those words as anything more to me than words. They had no feeling, no emotion, no life. They were black and white, pen on paper. My light had failed.
We all have a light inside. It is anything that we put out total self into, whether hidden or seen. It may be all we have and what drives us. Maybe its faith, or music, or art. Maybe its the face and heart of god poured out by us and through us. And maybe we never know its all we have. Maybe we are the light that fails. The things that we pour out, words music art actions, their light is a reflection of what we are. We are the light they reflect. When our works stop, when our hopes and dreams stop, its because the light they reflected failed. My words didn't fail me. My dreams and hopes never failed me, I failed them. Now I have to live up to them again and be the light worth reflecting.
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Thursday, November 11, 2010
just for my wife
Here is a post just for my wife. It is pointless and inane, but I told her I would. I do what I'm told. Except when I don't. To all of you expecting magic from this blog, welcome back to the real world!
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Friday, October 1, 2010
I know my tree
Recently, someone close to me talked about their depression. Specifically they talked about trees...
You ask yourself, what does a tree have to do with depression? Nothing by its self. For me, a tree was the way out, a purposeful death in an accidental way.
I remember my tree. It is on a road between Jacksonville and Benson. It sits in a curve on a highway, where you can get enough force going the speed limit to slide off the road and hit with enough force to have a reasonable expectation of meeting the end. I knew for some time what I would do, how I would do it, why I would. I kept it to my self, knowing that my family would be taken care of if it was an accident. No one needed to know, no one needed or could care. Everyone had their own issues. Id go away in a way that left no doubts and everyone could go on with one less burden...I was being noble and selfless.
As you are reading this it is apparent I never succeeded in my goal. Id like to say I came to my senses that day and drove past on my own. Or maybe found some strength I didn't know. That's a lie. I was rescued. Someone stopped me through phone calls and text messages, and threats. But they stopped me...
I still know my tree, like others I remember how id do it. My point to my friends is that there is nothing noble in death, its just easy. But its also easy for those around us to get so complacent that we don't see the pain of our familyand friends. Don't let those around you get to the point of finding their rope, or their gun, or their knife, or their tree.
You ask yourself, what does a tree have to do with depression? Nothing by its self. For me, a tree was the way out, a purposeful death in an accidental way.
I remember my tree. It is on a road between Jacksonville and Benson. It sits in a curve on a highway, where you can get enough force going the speed limit to slide off the road and hit with enough force to have a reasonable expectation of meeting the end. I knew for some time what I would do, how I would do it, why I would. I kept it to my self, knowing that my family would be taken care of if it was an accident. No one needed to know, no one needed or could care. Everyone had their own issues. Id go away in a way that left no doubts and everyone could go on with one less burden...I was being noble and selfless.
As you are reading this it is apparent I never succeeded in my goal. Id like to say I came to my senses that day and drove past on my own. Or maybe found some strength I didn't know. That's a lie. I was rescued. Someone stopped me through phone calls and text messages, and threats. But they stopped me...
I still know my tree, like others I remember how id do it. My point to my friends is that there is nothing noble in death, its just easy. But its also easy for those around us to get so complacent that we don't see the pain of our familyand friends. Don't let those around you get to the point of finding their rope, or their gun, or their knife, or their tree.
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Wednesday, September 29, 2010
where I am
This is my blog. Normally it will be about the things which interest me. Sometimes I will involve things that interest others, if it interests me. I'm selfish like that, it's all about me...
I lied, it's generally not all about me. Its about my kids, my work, my wife, my dog, my family, my lack of a life as I am always doing too many incredibly exciting things to have a life...
Its about music, hobbies, boogers, bodily noises, falling down stairs, spycraft, political intrigue, and often how I hate the new Wiggles (Team Jeff, Sam sucks)...
In short, it's all about what's in my head, in my heart, and how I get through loosing my mind one day at a time.
I lied, it's generally not all about me. Its about my kids, my work, my wife, my dog, my family, my lack of a life as I am always doing too many incredibly exciting things to have a life...
Its about music, hobbies, boogers, bodily noises, falling down stairs, spycraft, political intrigue, and often how I hate the new Wiggles (Team Jeff, Sam sucks)...
In short, it's all about what's in my head, in my heart, and how I get through loosing my mind one day at a time.
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Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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