Sacred, part 1

Each man decides what is sacred, inviolate, to himself.

I have seen many things. I have done many things. I know what is sacred to me. Of this, I have no doubts.

I have choked down the father who once beat me, who I once watched beat my mother, as a powerless child. I have looked him in the eyes, shown him mercy, hate, compassion and even love. And walked away from the shell that he was.

I have raised children, lost children, prayed for their forgiveness and railed against them in self righteous anger. I have loved them all and know that my only hope of redemption in their eyes lies in their eyes and hearts alone.

I have closed the eyes of my mother on her deathbed, while others wept around me.

I have raised my fists in useless anger, I have struck in the defense of others, I have wounded the helpless when I had no need to.

I have loved of women, and lost. I have been loved and have forsaken love freely given.

I have doubted, so much I have doubted. And I have believed.

And, I believe now. I know in my heart what is sacred to me. I know what blasphemies are hollow and what transgressions I would never dare, lest I truly doom myself - to myself.

Each man a temple, and in his heart beats a man's own religion. Some may doubt anew. I have doubts no more. I know my own heart, and that is the grail, the reason, the meaning I have always searched for. Knowing it is what is the most sacred belief of all.

Woke up foggy- peel back the curtain of life to an empty street and wonder at it all. Breathe in the dreaming: Is it real, is it bad, does it matter? Tristan hears me stirring, and stirs in turn- "Daddy?" It's a question and an order all in one. I go to his bed and bid him good morning. Satisfied that he has touched base with HIS reality, he returns to his dream. And mine- wisps away


prologue this was good enough to write down in one of my journals (skeleton) . I elaborated a tiny bit there. I wonder if I should here. But, naw, I'll let it stand alone. Tristan's up now. I'm cooking sausage, he's bouncing around, eating applesauce and huggin on "My Daddy!" I've got CMT playing in the background (you know I'm feeling sentimental when I'm listening to country music).. I've been loving on the classic alternative channel for weeks now on the music channels on cable. It's - well, hell, its a good damn morning. Beer with breakfast, but hey its a sunday,and it'll be alright. Twist wants to play on the computer, so I;m gonna get off here and let him tear shit up. Enjoy your day, folks. Its the little things..

Thanks to a friend

For Robin- ... some days I find myself in such a hole that i dont even want to claw my way out. Its : keep on for the kids. and thats basically it. You really are my best friend. And days like today- in a hundred subtle ways, I draw strength from your example. I used to be bullet proof and knew it all and didnt give a second thought to a thing so weak-as a second thought. I still dont doubt myself - but I sure do doubt the world around me. And that shit wears on me. There is a saying "There are those who take the heart out of you- but, there are those who put it back." .... There are days I thank god (whatever the hell that concept is, but I thank it ) to have someone like you in my life. I used to be you= I put the life into people. I dont know where the fuck I went wrong. but I lost that. And I hate myself for it. But you renew that sense/ And you make me want to be better than I am now. And I just wanted you to know that.

Determining what you Deserve

Considering what you believe you "Deserve" out of life is self-delusion.

Forgive me for boiling it down to basics, but you get what you earn, not what you deserve. Circumstances and random chance and even luck may affect your fate, may even engineer it, in the end.

But- in the meantime, no matter what chance of birth you had, no matter what foul luck befalls you, no matter who and how rich your daddy was, how crack addled your mother might have been when she begat you- Regardless of all these factors, beyond the stars and fate and god's will= You have but one avenue that will make you deserving of anything better.

And that is how you live your life.

That is the choices you make yourself, the way you guide YOURSELF, after all the other factors out of your control fall to the wayside. You have only your footsteps to follow. And you may have had poor guides in your road. But again, circumstances aside- it is what your wits and your instincts drive you to- It is what your fears keep you from, or save you from. It is your decisions that make you WHO you are, in the end, not your birth, not your environment, not your friends, not your enemies. It is your choices, and where you stand strong, where you bend, where you break, and where you rebuild your self.

It is the eyes you meet, or look away from in that damned mirror.

They can haunt you, or they can fill you with determination. Or both. Or neither.

But it is our actions (and inactions) that determine how we look at ourselves.

No one else's opinion matters. Except for those few individuals in our lives who have Earned our full respect. However impropable it was for them to do so, in our self absorbtion and self hate and fear of someone who is better than ourselves.

And if you can't even value your own opinion- well. stop now. read no more. For more self-study will only damn you further.

Fearing your life is a failure is not a failure. It is sanity.
Judging yourself harshly is not a sin. It is sainthood.
Meeting that judgement, and meeting your own eyes- and nodding in grudging respect-

is the only godhood you will ever experience.

It's never too late to earn your own respect, (back, even).

You are the only one you have to convince.

For - Me. And for the people I've come to fully respect in this life. There are times they were weak, and I despised them for their weakness. And there are times I thought they were weak, and I realized it was my weakness that built my resentment. I can judge them. But my judgements of others don't mean a fucking thing- just like their judgements of me don't mean anything.

Judge yourself. Or don't judge anything at all.

Surrending Desires

I'm just not the most social person when i am sober.

Drinking lets me pretend that this world is somehow better than it truly is.

When I'm clear all that I see I dont really like. I dont find much joy in this existence. There's my kids. But that is pretty much it. Everyone else is pretty much of a letdown most of the time. I am here for my kids. Thats what I do. I wont quit and I wont fail. But i dont get much joy, if any, anymore.

"In simpler dreams I find a simpler worth" I wrote that line twenty years ago, and it means more to me now than it did even back then. But its so hard releasing all the bullshit and living without desires. I AM my desires. I am fucking and fighting and drinking and dying and LIVING. But to have peace I have to surrender all that. And I just don't know if I can.

I have passion in all the wrong things, and in few of the right ones. And I fear I cannot change that. I have always been a lover of women. When I'm not loving them I am dreaming of loving them. And I never stop dreaming. In the end they fail me, and without fail- I fail them too- in the long run. I don't want one woman, at the end of the day. I dont want that happy ending. I want to fall in love with a girl I am standing behind in the checkout line of the supermarket. I want to meet a stranger's eyes with a long passing glance and lose myself in that millisecond's love and lust. I want to feel my heart jump, and remind me that I'm alive when I see a woman I want to make love to.

I don't want a happy ending- and- huh- how about that? Realizing this, why the hell should I expect one?

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)