The impact you’ve had.
It’s much easier for me to say ‘thanks for going to dinner’ or ‘thanks for the candy bar’. So, why is it so hard for me to say thanks for this? Perhaps it’s because your actions can’t really be put into words. Your aid has stretched beyond the end of one day. Truly, you have invested in me and strengthened me in ways that I could have never done on my own. For that, I am thankful. You have been an example to me of who God is, how He designs people and loves them to be just who they are. No matter who they are, where they are. You have taught me much, and although I am still learning much, I am walking now instead of crawling. I am happy on this journey. Thank you for helping me along my way.
Less than a week ago, blogger friend and real-life cool chick Courtney Olson used a phrase I’d never heard before. Girly pansy snowflakes. Men.
Courtney was writing of her frustrations with men and basically how they usually don’t do what they promise/imply. I believe my response to her post was ‘Hmmmm.’ It took me quite some time to think of an actual response to Courtney’s post. One, because I was left feeling awfully confused after reading it, while all of the ladies’ comments seemed to echo and ‘amen’ her same frustrations. It’s quite possibly universally understood by women that… Men frustrate women. Constantly. I wasn’t confused because I’d never heard this before. I was confused because I realized in that moment that I have been a girly pansy snowflake. Not on purpose and not all of the time. But still. Perhaps today is when I should begin a password protected blog or go into witness protection to be kept safe from my guy friends that could read this. Because I just called myself three man-forbidden words.
Hmmmm.
So, I wanted to figure out why this topic could possibly be one of the most blogged about sentiments for 20-something age women. And then I realized that coming up with a cure to ‘man stupid’ disease would be more complicated than devising a plan for world peace. Perhaps if men and women saw eye to eye and communicated perfectly, the world would be at peace. So, here’s the problem… men. and women. they are never going to understand each other. Not really understand each other. Ever.
Little boys learn very different things growing up than little girls.
Here are some examples of what I remember learning from peers/society on how boys should be:
1. tougher = better
2. only exception on the tougher rule was to never be tough to a girl
3. emotions should not exist
4. respect trumps love
5. if you aren’t tough, if you hurt a girl, if you have emotions, or if you speak of love before respect…. then you are obviously either a) a girl or b) gay
I’m just saying. I’m not making excuses. Okay, maybe I am. But when you realize you are a girly pansy snowflake, who can blame you for coming up with excuses?
Maybe. Just maybe. These early lessons have played their own roles in my life. And, granted, I am by no means a typical guy. But still. I am a guy, and I’m only relating my own experiences. Growing up, when I was told to be nice, I was nice. Out of my way nice many times. When I was told not to have emotions, I tried that too. Mostly that never worked, but I tried. I avoided commitment. I didn’t get attached.
And in the end, I started saying, ‘I’ll call you.’ With every intention of wanting to call. And never calling because what if that started a relationship? What if I got attached? What if they realized I’m not tough? At all. What if all of the sudden everyone realized that I am not at all who I pretended to be? So I’ll call you, but no, really I won’t. Because you just might figure me out.
At least this is how I was at one point during my life.
Girly Pansy Snowflake.
Me.
If anyone deserves to say that life sucks, certainly it’s everyone.
To me and my situation today, I think I deserve to say it. To the alcoholic and the availability of alcohol, I think he deserves to say it. To the drug addict and the lack helpful solutions for addiction, I think she deserves to say it. To the parent that can’t afford to make rent this month or buy food for the week, I think they deserve to say it. To the veteran that can’t shake the vivid thoughts and nightmares of war. To the 45-year-old hardworking woman that has been stuck in this rut to and from work for far too long. To the wife who’s been beaten down. To the new kid in town that can’t quite find anyone like him. To the doctor that has seen life after life lost. To the husband who’s been nagged for years. To the child that is fighting cancer at the age of 12. To the student who was too afraid to take a chance on a changing her major. To the new professional who was too scared to move to the big city or to the unpopulated land. To us all in some regard. Some scale no matter how small or how large. We’ve screwed it up or something else has. [At least at some point, we feel like 'life sucks'.] Our lives need an overhaul, an extreme makeover, a mulligan.
And what seems like in the moment the largest crisis the world has ever seen. May seem like in a few years, an obstacle overcome, a defining point in life. And what was holding me underwater, drowning me, nearly to my death, was perhaps the only thing that saved me. Now my life-giving clean drinking water. Purified. It was the only thing that could break my glass world and bring me into this reality. Into the very tangible pain and need for hope in this world.
My heart, beating then or not, will be pure. Not because it was never been broken. Not because it never loved wrong. But because it was true. True to the good and the bad, the faults, the imperfections, the truth and the lie, the pain, the confusion that is held within this life. And whether I’m breathing after I’ve figured it out, I’ll find out, but I will rest in peace knowing that I tried. That I didn’t keep spinning circles for the sake of no progress. But that I used every ounce of energy that I had to climb this mountain, right down to the spine-cringing scraping of these very fingernails. And if I fall off the side of that mountain, I will float freely down knowing that the view from the fall up there sure as hell beats living down in that valley far below.
She said I think I’ll go to Boston…
I think I’ll start a new life,
I think I’ll start it over, where no one knows my name,
I’ll get out of California, I’m tired of the weather,
I think I’ll get a lover and fly em out to Spain…
I think I’ll go to Boston,
I think that I’m just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind…
I think I need a sunrise, I’m tired of the sunset,
I hear it’s nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice…
-Boston, by Augustana
Change. It gets me everytime. I do love change. Well, mostly. I love change when I am in control of it. But I’m not a control freak at all.
I think my love for change is the biggest reason why I love being single. I can go wherever, do whatever, be whoever without worrying about the effects on a ’significant other’. But, what happens when someone like me starts to c h a n g e ? Lately, I’ve felt selfish, and, yes, I’ve found myself wanting a r-r-r-r-relationship. [Man, that's real hard for me to say.] I’ve always been one for promoting singularity. And, now, I find myself needing to justify it. Not because I don’t believe it’s extremely helpful in growing yourself as an individual, because I do believe that… But because I have found that given the right relationship it can make you an even better person than you could be by yourself. Did I really just say that? Oops.
There are some mighty things to be learned when you have to give up part of yourself in hopes of receiving someone’s heart in return. [Not that you really have to give up anything, but I think you know what I mean...It sure feels like it sometimes.]
And, I wish it were that easy. “Okay, I’m ready to be in a relationshit relationship… so all is hunky dory now.” Oh noooo, being ready is only the tip of the iceberg here. It’s hard when the person… that understands and who knows what you want/what you need… is 212 miles of concrete away.
Sometimes it’s just easier for me to run from the situation. To hide out and hope that it all passes over while I’ve got my head tucked and my eyes closed. I think I’ll go somewhere far from here. So I don’t have to clean up the mess I’ve made. So I can just start over with new surroundings.
But would I just be delaying relationship maturity by trying to escape this difficulty? Perhaps.
I’m not good at this. I don’t think I ever will be. But if I had it perfected, I’d have one less thing to write about. And, well, I’m not ready to give up any of my writing… yet.
[By the way, I am actually going to Boston this week! Long weekend vacation :]
[Such was life yesterday.]
Gets me down and beats me up again.
Tramples me until that last and final breath.
Sucks the air right out of me.
My lungs fail. Tears fall.
With my blurred vision and pounding heart,
and the faint blood that’s left in me,
I pick up the pieces of what’s remaining.
Mercy is no word in this life’s language.
And hope, life strives to drain from these veins.
My broken bones, this broken heart,
this broken life and wounded spirit
lie below in a deep, dark well
Where no light can reach
And no warmth can fill.
The absence of love, the absence of all.
[Such is life today.]
My heart cannot hold, my mind cannot handle
The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.
I cannot begin to describe
The source of it all.
Words escape me. Setting me free.
Abundance overflows into all that I do.
Mercy is the reason for my existence,
Hope, I hold more dear than anything else.
Now I see clearly the beauty around me.
As my heart pounds with passion,
My blood is filled with an urgency.
My wholeness has been restored
Better than it even was before.
This well, no longer empty but filled with water
My symbol of pain now my source of strength.
And where do I start to understand
My life has not changed nearly as much as my perspective.
[And welling up inside of me is a faith that it's all going to be okay.]
Some days, I have my doubts. Then, I listen.
To hear her story after all that she’s been through.
Makes me believe that I, too, can survive anything.
She is a survivor. She is beautiful.
Not because she has beaten her cancer, although that is beautiful
But because she did it with such grace that only few can imagine on normal days.
Some days, I am terrified. Then, I open my eyes.
To see him still standing there across the room.
Makes me believe that I, too, can survive anything.
He has beaten the odds, he is inspiring.
Because he never let the criticism of others count him out.
Nor did he let others define who he is.
Some days, I’d rather not get out of bed. Then, I feel the warmth.
To know that life is short, yet full of living.
Makes me believe that I can do anything.
These people all around me, they keep me believing.
Not because they know their influence,
But because they don’t let anything get in the way of living.
Indie Arie sings it well:
I wonder, I wonder if you really knew that I see God in you. And I wonder if you can see, how much you mean to me. I know that you cannot read my mind, but I hope you feel my vibe. I think it’s time I let you know that I see God in you.
I don’t normally buy new tees going into the fall season. But I just found this one, and I couldn’t resist. In case you can’t read it, it says:Creativity is recession proof.
Here I stand. Waiting for you. In the most unlikely of places. With the most unlikely of expectations. Never thought I would allow myself to be the person that I have become.
I’ve opened up. And now I’m letting go. Of the fear that I had before. Of the memories that hold me down. Of all the things that try and stop me from moving on.
I stand here, not because I must. But because this is what I want. To grow. To learn. To never lie down and accept my place. I will keep pushing the envelope because I know no other way. And when you decide you want to stop me, just step out of my way. Our paths will surely cross in another place where I will be standing waiting for you again. Waiting for you to come around.
I don’t care. But I’m scared.
Let me explain tonight. I quickly walked into my cold house barely stopping long enough to kick off my rain drench shoes. On my way to the heater, I saw a nice, small letter waiting for me on my dining room table, so I grabbed it and walked into my bedroom to read it. I uncarefully ripped it open with no regard, saw who it was from and immediately I almost felt something. I read the words written in the smoothest of handwritings. I looked upon the very real emotion that was behind those printed words. I could see it. And I could nearly picture the writer, I could see their pain, their hope, their faith.
BUT. I didn’t feel it. I wanted so bad to empathize with the writer.
What I did feel is de-sensitized. Is that even a word? It’s got to be some sort of an oxymoron. Oh well, you know what I mean. I used to be sensitive. I used to literally hurt with the thought of another’s pain. My spirit always yearned for mercy when it came to others, no matter what they’d done. But tonight. Yeah, tonight, it hit me. I realized how far I’ve come. Or better, how far I’ve drifted from the heart I had as a child, and even as a young adult.
It is my ability to empathize or sympathize with others that has driven me to take every major step in my life. It was my hidden motivation, inspiration, and reason for being. And, now, it seems to be fading away.
That’s what scares me. If I lose mercy, I lose me.
I told a good friend about this, and she thinks that it’s just a phase. But I’m more worried than her. I’m afraid she’s just being nice to me. I appreciate her hope, but even a phase of ‘unmercy’ is not okay with me. I need mercy. Much more than it could ever need me.
Perhaps it’s just my mood recently. But I’ve been through a lot in the past 8 months, and I’m afraid that these 8 months have taken their toll. Surely, it’s just my way of dealing with immediate pain. I’m a passionate person. This unmercy can’t last or I won’t last. Mercy is my passion, my reason for living, breathing, and being on many days. [I know grace is why I'm here, on this blog and in this life.]
Have you ever felt this way? Like you’ve lost all sensitivity. If so, was it just a phase? Or a permanent trend? What caused you to lose it?
I’m one that likes to learn from others, so any guidance you have will help. 
Here I stand
Feet on the ground
Eyes to the sky
And I can see nothing
yet everything passing me by.
I stopped running just long enough
To see what is going on
All around and to the sides of me.
People going crazy
Yelling at one another
For not understanding the lives for which they do not live
More reasons and excuses to be angry.
It’s to be expected when they raise one finger high into the air
To be hated when their neighbor does the same to them
The ties that unite us are overwhelmed
And the divisions are more highly held
No one wants to talk of the good
For the more newsworthy bad
Bitter we have become
Cutting our ties of love
That we so stubbornly thought defined us
Our love for our freedom
Our love for setting free
Our love for loving others
Our love lost in a sea of differences
I wish we could see
It’s our differences that set us free
Embracing our varying viewpoints
Challenges us yet prepares us for the future
Can we grasp this as a benefit
And allow it to drive us to the bettering of all?
If not, let us hope
Not to be our own self-destruction
A tearing down of that which we support
That we may reason with ourselves
And compromise that our identity
Come not from one side
But from the collection of us all.
