Gift of Faith

Faith- is something that I've never held in anything other than myself. And most of the time, that faith is in short supply as well.

I told my devout christian mother that I didn't believe in god when I was eight. I have trouble remembering the events of last week at times, but I remember that day, and that conversation clearly as if it were yesterday. She was driving, around the loop, in our beat-the-hell up car. And we passed a religious sign by the side of the road. And I told her, in my usual matter-of-fact sort of way. "Mom, I can't believe in god anymore." It was can't, not don't. And that's an important difference in my analytical mind.

She was used to my sudden outspoken observations. And there was a long pause as she deliberated the right response... "Why do you say that, son?" And I told her.

The concept may have been affected by the church members who treated my single mother of two who smoked and had left her husband-like dirt. My opinion may have been slanted by the way they talked ill of her in front of me and my brother, as if we couldn't understand their holier-than-thou slander because we were only children. It certainly didn't help my opinion of Christians in general, and as a whole, and they've never proved any better in the following thirty years. But mainly, it just didn't make sense. Not even to an eight year old. The hypocrisy and the stupidity were obvious. The contradictions seemed oh so clear to my steel trap mind. The faith, the spirituality, the yearning for a Father to guide me- it just rang hollow, even to a bastard like myself.

And I explained this all to my mother, who believed with all her heart and soul in Jesus and our lord and my only hope for salvation being in accepting HIM.

And she listened to what I had to say, and she rolled it around it in her head, and she said the only thing she could say- because I got my love of truth from her- even if the truths we came around to understanding were two different things=

"I hate to hear you say that son and I hope you change your mind. But-I respect your opinion and I won't make you go to church if that is the way you feel."

She looked hard at me, with those deepest of eyes, and I remember that smile that was sad and at the same time proud.

And my faith is in myself, because she gave me that gift, with her respect and her acceptance of what I had to say. She never doubted my ability to think for myself. She guided, but she never pushed.

I've studied religion with a fervor bordering on obsession since then, but I've never found a reason to have faith for it any more than I did as an eight year old.

I have wanted to prove myself wrong at times, because my respect for my mother's opinion was as such. But, the gods have never moved me with the spirit, as they say.

But whatever faith I possess, I consider a gift from her- for not doubting in me.

Closure

Closure ? I dont know - we are so different but I do remember how much I loved her

A woman who I was very much in love with long ago- one of my very first relationships- asked me to meet her and some of her friends for drinks.

Her. My ex fiancee. The Evil one.

I had not seen her in over 13 years. It had ended very very badly. We had talked previously... and "buried the hatchet". But I guess she felt the need to see me, for whatever reason, and likewise, I thought of not going, but found I couldnt avoid it. I didn't know what to expect, but I should have. In the end, it wasn't just wanting to see her- it was a palpable need.

It was cathartic for both of us, no telling if moreso for me or for her. It was still strained and her bitterness boiled to the surface more than once- but I didn't reciprocate or retaliate.

She hasnt changed a bit-still a rich, racist republican and very proud of all three of those descriptions. She's still uber-materialistic with a tendency to brag of the countries she's visited and the trinkets and treasures she possesses. She's charismatic, leads every conversation. She's engaging and has a magnetice wit and personality. She made sure I knew she still smoked pot and she's still richer than me, (with a ta-da flourish,even,ha!) She's a tad overweight still, so her worshipping at the altar of the dallas debutante set has its limits when it comes to that. She still has that infectious smile and those dimples that I so loved to kiss. No, she hasn't changed at all and I am scarcely the same person she knew back then.

Talking with her, I remembered and FELT so purely how and why I loved her and also how and why I hated her too. I held both these emotions in my hands as I looked at her- and it was so easy- to just let that hate blow away. Even through some of her more barbed comments, I couldnt take my eyes off her and couldnt respond in kind, the way I usually would. I got more peace from this short night 's conversation than even I could have ever expected or imagined. I dont know what she took away from it all, and I doubt I will ever see her again.

So, closure? Yes.
It may not be happily ever after, but it was a better ending for this story.

(for Angela)

Office Politics

I like my job. I love my job duties. I hate working with these office barracuda bitches. But, as far as effort versus compensation- it's a perfect fit for me and my mindset right now. Could I go further? Sure, if I applied some office politickin' of my own. But I truly don't care for that. More responsibility equals greater pay but also incurs much more time and stress that would bleed over into my personal life.

I have achieved a high level of focus on my family right now- and its taken a good while to get where I am at - on the family front. Some people may not consider that a goal or even something to work towards- but to me, its my true occupation, even if the pay and the hours suck! lol. I work a lot of overtime, and I am driven to succeed and work at a high level (higher than my co-workers, most assuredly). But I don't feel the desire to put in that extra 10% over the 110% I already put in at work. And I sure don't feel the need to compete with the supervisors and the coordinators and the people over me.

That's a self-imposed level of stress I don't need. But i sure wish that those people who do desire that greater level of self-importance and "success" in their chosen occupation would rain less shit upon me in their own miniscule gamemanship to get up that corporate ladder- or even just hang on to the rung they are at.

I just don't give a shit about the daily game of who has usurped whose authority. This job, it pays the bills. Its not who I am, it's not what I am. It's not even really a part of who/what I am. It is a meaningless endeavor to line the pockets of someone else. I am a cog. I dont desire to be a pulley. Its just not that important to me in the grander scheme of things. I am a worker bee. I'm goood with that. To all the Queens of the hive- Let us work in peace once in a while. We don't subscribe to your theory of how the world works- so please, stop selling us that line of shit that is supposed to motivate US in your goal of domination. But I know they can't help themselves. And that's all part of it too.

Buzz. Buzz. back to work.

Dating and" too much sex in a relationship"

Dating again... Got an ultimatum today from a woman I'm casually dating about sex and it made me think-

Point to Ponder for the women out there- If you are worried that the relationship may be TOO sexual: There are far worse things, if you really like the guy.

1- Lead him, but you dont have to LEASH him. Don't talk nonstop about sex if you are wanting to slow down the sexual side of things. We dont run hot and cold, like women do. We respond in kind. So, simmer down a bit. Don't expect the man to plan out elaborate plans for things to do- this is ingrained in us as a courting matter. Take the initiative and plan out things to do that you know we like and that you like too- Make our dates about that- not just us coming over three times a week to watch movies, because we both know where thats headed.

2- Withhold Sex suddenly, out of the blue- at your own risk. We like you. We also like having sex with you. It's part of the deal. We won't get tired of having sex with you (if the sex is good). But EVERY man will get tired of NOT Having sex with you, especially if we sense that it is a form of relationship blackmail. Then you put the focus back on sex by default because we are frustrated.
And - if you DONT enjoy having sex with us, then something is wrong, and this relationship may be doomed, anyway. Enjoy the pleasures that sex gives us both- enjoy the intimacy and explore the things you like-= LEAD us, and we will follow, if we are into you.

3- Remember, if the relationship is new- give it time- have patience to get us used to you, and to the point where we dont want to do without you. If you are that much into us, let it develop. Get to know us, and let us know the REAL you. And go from there.

Wave on wave

It's strange, but I am so happy this morning, I actually want to cry- in joy. There's just a flood of emotion welling up in me.

It's soooo odd for me to be like this.

Lead by Example

Leading by example is not only the best way to live, it is the ONLY way to live.

Our lives are full of those who do things by half measures. Go above and beyond- if for nothing else just so no one can ever consider you as one who fell behind. Pride may be a sin, but then, I've always been a sinner...

I have no illusions. I hope that the ones I love (and you know who you are) learn from my victories. But I hope to hell they learn more from my mistakes. I can only try and learn from them too and try not to compromise too much.

I have always thought I knew everything, but the older I get, the more I know I never realized. Lead when you can, as much as you can- when you KNOW you are doing the right things. You will do the wrong things plenty of times, but it's not a mystery when you do what you know you are supposed to do...

Work Battle Poetry

And lo, fields of invoice lay before us, fresh and ready to be bloodied
Our resolve firm, our backs straight, we waded into the fray
Never dismay'd, tho as we battled our souls were tested and our hearts muddied
We kicked it up another notch with our batlle cry- "Bitch, its Friday!"