Thankfulness has been a troublesome subject. Not in that I find it difficult to identify reasons for thankfulness in my daily life but rather in how to express the thankfulness that I hold in ways that feel adequate to the emotion I am experiencing.
How do you properly thank someone who was an emotional rock for you when you had numerous panic attacks and homesickness in the middle of the Kenyan highlands? Or the friends who encouraged you, and listened to you through the journey of discovering the freedom of being yourself? Or the woman who through living her life taught you what sacrifice, true love, and conviction looks like?
None of the thankfulness I feel is the same. Some even have a sense of bitterness within them. I find it particularly easy to place blanket statements of thankfulness on obvious things; i.e. I'm thankful for my family, my job, my friends etc. However, to wrestle with thankfulness for the struggles is an even more arduous task. For example, finding thankfulness for a relationship that initially left you broken and lost; but showed you strength and forgiveness you never thought you possessed. Or for having everything you had been working for taken away from you and having to find a new direction in life because someone else decided the potential money you had was more important then your well-being.
Being in the moment and discovering thankfulness for things often taken for granted is difficult to practice. I've become more cognizant of these sort of things as of late, especially because of the work I do. To be thankful for two feet to stand on. Or that I won the genetic lottery and didn't leave the womb with congenital abnormalities to battle with the rest of my life. It can be difficult to be cognizant and thankful while not pitying at the same time.
Friday, December 15, 2017
Monday, November 6, 2017
Break the Cycle
One thing that I have noticed about the gay community is that we often share a lot of similar traumas. Especially with gay males, there is a lot of turmoil surrounding masculinity and masculine acceptance (I understand I'm focused on a cis male perspective, but that is the life experience I have/can relate to at the moment and feel that I have any right in addressing). Whether that's lack of recognition from ones father, sexual abuse, bullying during school; we have often failed to be loved fully from the world around us. What I've seen (and in many ways this definitely applies to all humans really) we perpetuated these abuses onto the people we are trying to love.
In a majority of instances this is completely unintentional, but never-the-less it occurs. This could be because we don't recognise the very baggage we carry ourselves and haven't done the work necessary to put it down, so exhausted we subconsciously do things to pass that baggage off of our person onto someone else. Or, I feel, because of our past experiences we don't know how to express love because we were never properly shown what true love looks like.
So, often times we're looking for that single moment of truth, and epiphany as it were, of what we think love looks like. Many times it is completely wrong; butterflies in our tummies and that unforgettable high of blissful romance that will inevitably come crashing down when we realised they too are human.
And the circle and cycle begins again.
Things end and we "start over" often when things were never truly broken, we just assumed they were. 'There were just too many missing pieces' becomes the constant justification. Supposed irreparable mistakes.
Few things are truly irreparable when it comes to true love. I have seen this. A woman, complete with every reason to be scorned, hateful and bitter, looking at me from across a table we'd sat at so times before, to tell me that through it all; the tears, the sleepless nights, the feeling self-righteous, and at the same time completely worthless:
Love is louder then all your pain.
I want to break that cycle, to not perpetuate the hurts and demons I face. I'm sure it will not be easy, and i'll be asking for forgiveness and patience a lot. But I refuse to live anything short of purposefully in my life. I will live and love deeply and I hope everyone I count close in my life will do the same.
So,
'Tell me the words you long to hear
And I'll sing the loud and clear
Let me heal the wounds you've held on to for all these years
Break the cycle
Break the chains'
In a majority of instances this is completely unintentional, but never-the-less it occurs. This could be because we don't recognise the very baggage we carry ourselves and haven't done the work necessary to put it down, so exhausted we subconsciously do things to pass that baggage off of our person onto someone else. Or, I feel, because of our past experiences we don't know how to express love because we were never properly shown what true love looks like.
So, often times we're looking for that single moment of truth, and epiphany as it were, of what we think love looks like. Many times it is completely wrong; butterflies in our tummies and that unforgettable high of blissful romance that will inevitably come crashing down when we realised they too are human.
And the circle and cycle begins again.
Things end and we "start over" often when things were never truly broken, we just assumed they were. 'There were just too many missing pieces' becomes the constant justification. Supposed irreparable mistakes.
Few things are truly irreparable when it comes to true love. I have seen this. A woman, complete with every reason to be scorned, hateful and bitter, looking at me from across a table we'd sat at so times before, to tell me that through it all; the tears, the sleepless nights, the feeling self-righteous, and at the same time completely worthless:
Love is louder then all your pain.
I want to break that cycle, to not perpetuate the hurts and demons I face. I'm sure it will not be easy, and i'll be asking for forgiveness and patience a lot. But I refuse to live anything short of purposefully in my life. I will live and love deeply and I hope everyone I count close in my life will do the same.
So,
'Tell me the words you long to hear
And I'll sing the loud and clear
Let me heal the wounds you've held on to for all these years
Break the cycle
Break the chains'
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Step Into This Moment
Every now and again you meet someone that reminds you of things past, of old passions, and why you do what you do.
Recently, I have become acquainted with someone who has refreshed my soul in this way. Reminded me that I have been relatively silent for quite a while now.
I've never felt much comfort in my writing. It is often highly personal, or deals with topics in life that are uncomfortable for people to wrestle with. I've struggled with inner demons or have done the internal work long enough before I write, however, that I do find some peace when I put my words out there. The difficulty, or road block, I've often faced is battling the desire to do it for gratification, or public recognition (even just amongst my friends). In some instances I'd gotten so used to sharing; for a moment, thinking about how many people would read it, how many comments I might get, or even during the writing process editing my words so as "not to offend someone" or becoming overly concerned about burning bridges.
As things have unfolded in the world at large, I have had many thoughts. Some of them may seem radical to people; to others not radical enough. I denied myself putting pen to paper because I either felt I had no horse in the race (punningly enough it was usual surrounding matters of Race) or, in all honesty, I had truly not completed the internal work necessary for me to feel comfortable expressing myself.
Part of what I've found about being me is that I can easily see or sympathise (to a limited extent on certain matters -- I have little to no sympathy for bigotry or hatred) with both sides of some issues, and I have to strive to understand and come to terms with the fluidity on my thoughts. There is a constant battle between "is this what I truly believe" or "is this something that I'm having a gut reaction to because I haven't taken the time to digest the narrative being handed to me or truly listened to the words of the person who has undergone the experience."
Sometimes there has been simple fatigue. I have an exhausting job. It takes a lot out of me, and there are times when I do not have to energy to want to engage with some of the events that occur in the world at large. So much vehemence and violence at work, attempting to think about the same "out there" is strenuous. I got to a point where I got tired of caring.
Other times I fall back to old traumas. Listening to the old voices that told me I was wrong, that loving only left me feeling alone, that I am a burden not a contribution. There's a terrible peace in that violence telling me theres no point in trying. But it's an easy escape and I've been silent to too long.
What I have learned is that you have to fix your mind before you can fix anything else. I have to dump out the jealousy, the pettiness, the unforgiveness, the blaming others that is hindering me from pouring into my life what is going to make me better. So, I refuse to let another year go by wasting my time with these old mentalities.
There will be blessings, there will be opportunities and there will be challenges, and tests. But as soon as I stop looking for answers to happiness in other people, and waiting for miracles somewhere down the yellow brick road, I can set my affections on things that are worth so much more.
And therefore, I will step into this moment and every moment hereafter.
Recently, I have become acquainted with someone who has refreshed my soul in this way. Reminded me that I have been relatively silent for quite a while now.
I've never felt much comfort in my writing. It is often highly personal, or deals with topics in life that are uncomfortable for people to wrestle with. I've struggled with inner demons or have done the internal work long enough before I write, however, that I do find some peace when I put my words out there. The difficulty, or road block, I've often faced is battling the desire to do it for gratification, or public recognition (even just amongst my friends). In some instances I'd gotten so used to sharing; for a moment, thinking about how many people would read it, how many comments I might get, or even during the writing process editing my words so as "not to offend someone" or becoming overly concerned about burning bridges.
As things have unfolded in the world at large, I have had many thoughts. Some of them may seem radical to people; to others not radical enough. I denied myself putting pen to paper because I either felt I had no horse in the race (punningly enough it was usual surrounding matters of Race) or, in all honesty, I had truly not completed the internal work necessary for me to feel comfortable expressing myself.
Part of what I've found about being me is that I can easily see or sympathise (to a limited extent on certain matters -- I have little to no sympathy for bigotry or hatred) with both sides of some issues, and I have to strive to understand and come to terms with the fluidity on my thoughts. There is a constant battle between "is this what I truly believe" or "is this something that I'm having a gut reaction to because I haven't taken the time to digest the narrative being handed to me or truly listened to the words of the person who has undergone the experience."
Sometimes there has been simple fatigue. I have an exhausting job. It takes a lot out of me, and there are times when I do not have to energy to want to engage with some of the events that occur in the world at large. So much vehemence and violence at work, attempting to think about the same "out there" is strenuous. I got to a point where I got tired of caring.
Other times I fall back to old traumas. Listening to the old voices that told me I was wrong, that loving only left me feeling alone, that I am a burden not a contribution. There's a terrible peace in that violence telling me theres no point in trying. But it's an easy escape and I've been silent to too long.
What I have learned is that you have to fix your mind before you can fix anything else. I have to dump out the jealousy, the pettiness, the unforgiveness, the blaming others that is hindering me from pouring into my life what is going to make me better. So, I refuse to let another year go by wasting my time with these old mentalities.
There will be blessings, there will be opportunities and there will be challenges, and tests. But as soon as I stop looking for answers to happiness in other people, and waiting for miracles somewhere down the yellow brick road, I can set my affections on things that are worth so much more.
And therefore, I will step into this moment and every moment hereafter.
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