A Story To Tell

Today I was reminded of moments from the past few years.  It started while running with a random remembrance of an argument with the ex that happen at my grandmother’s funeral (well, just before going).  She was yelling at me that I needed to wear a suit.  Something I did not want to do nor was going to do.  She told me she would buy me one.  Do not need one (and thanks boss, for offering to bless me with a gift).  There is more, but why waste the words?

That memory could have spiraled from there, but distraction was found by refocusing on the audio-book playing.

Run completed, getting into the shower I started playing The Daily Stoic YouTube channel.  It talked about taking responsibility for your actions.  About how Marcus Aurelius wrote “this” had to happen to me, because it could not have happened to anyone else.

The memories flooded in:  divorce, bad divorce, bad person to marry, bad person to divorce, pandemic, part-time job, no insurance during said pandemic, loneliness, being alone, no where to go, locked inside, no money, lawyer charging my credit cards like I had rich parents that were footing the bill, and on and on and on.

Yet, The Daily Stoic sparked thoughts that maybe this all happened because I could handle it.  Because I would not let the bastards get me down.  That the universe saw in me something that said there needs to be balance and this person can handle it.  The thought of taking this pain from another and placing it on my shoulders seems egotistical.  Maybe spiritual or religious in some way, but I do not believe in those things.  What I do believe in is balance.  Yin and yang.  If you push on something it either breaks or does not.  Energy expands and contracts.

It is a belief in Eb and flow.  To think any of this was easy would be ridiculous. To think it was asked for would be insane.  To think of the long-lonely-hard-miserable-sad-nearly-breaking me moments of pulling myself off the ground, getting up and barely getting through the day can be paralyzing even now.  Yet, to take this on to spare another.  To keep another from feeling this and maybe not having the tools, friends, support, wonderful daughter, to get through this… okay.

Yesterday was harder than today. Tomorrow will be less hard today.  Each step a step forward.  Each moment continues to be another moment, which leads to another moment, which leads to another moment.  It is a series of moments and understanding and recognizing some of those moment will be good, some okay, some not okay, etc., etc. A roll of the dice. Sometimes in your favor.  Sometimes not.  That is why you keep getting up.  That is why you keep moving forward.  You never know what the next moment will bring.  Yet that is the exact reason to keep moving forward.

Who knows if any of this is true?  Who knows if this is just ego and hearing a philosophical quote in a moment of contemplation?  Who knows if this will change in a year, or a day, or an hour? 

Right now, life continues forward and currently feeling better.  Right now, those long, lonely days are a memory left for a past self that helped make the present self-better. 

We will take what we can get.  If it takes a little ego to create a scenario that helps to tell a story that gets us through, so be it.

A Vegan Father… creating stories of the past to make a better today.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

The Gift

The gift to give my daughter is time.  There is no money trail.  No land to inherit.  No hand me down business.  Just time.  The irreplaceable, non-refundable, no pressure to take over commodity.

It will most likely be possible to write on my tombstone “ I wish I had spent more time with my daughter”.  Yet hopefully there will be an ellipsis… “but not by much”.

A Vegan Father, doing his best.

Posted. Not Perfect.

Freedom by Sebastian Junger

Freedom is written well. Though, that is not why it is a good read.  Freedom was an enjoyable read for what it asks of the reader.  Eye opening, insightful information from lived experience.  Freedom creates a format that makes it more digestible to the reader. 

Sebastian Junger writes Freedom as a series of explorations of concepts.  Concepts determined through insight and action.  At a point in life when packing a bag and taking a walk seems better than other options.  To set out and explore the world through mud, water, trains, and overpasses.

Starting Freedom there was no concept of why it was titled “Freedom”.  That was the first observation.  Books tend to feed you the why.  There is nothing wrong with that. It is a portal.  It creates an easy entry. 

Sebastian does not spoon feed you.  He asks you think.  Process.  He is not holding your hand.  Nor is he taking you with him.  He is sharing what he went through.  What he noticed.  What he remembers from his journey.  Then sprinkles in facts and information to help you understand.

These thoughts were in my head when the book was started.  The words were cloudy, nothing was grabbing me.  Why was this book was titled “Freedom” kept repeating? Most likely distracting from enjoying the first 14 pages. Then page 15.“The poor neighborhoods were easy to walk through because people would offer us water or ask if we were okay; in affluent areas they were more likely to call the cops.”  The first hint at understanding why “Freedom”.

“Our insignificance alongside so much energy even started to feel like its own form of freedom until we realized that everything we needed – food, clothes, gear – came from the very thing we thought we were outwitting” (p.33).  Its passages like this that start the path towards understanding Freedom.  In trying to determine and understand why “Freedom” Sebastian was doing the same thing.  This was the journey he was taking us through. Not the walk.  Not the mud, rain, trains, and overpasses.  That was his journey.  These, though, were the moments he could bring reads along.

“The idea that we can enjoy the benefits of society while owing nothing in return is literally infantile.  Only children owe nothing.”  Yet, we continue to compartmentalize more.  Sharing our thoughts, views, beliefs.  Sometimes with violence, anger, or groups that support us while excluding anyone that counters whatever we are spreading.  All while restricting access to our person. 

From personal experience the motivator of when not acting my best, or at least trying, came from fear, insecurity, and doubt.  It was an introverted nature that kept any real harm to myself or others.  It is happenstance and books that kept moments of weakness from becoming more destructive.  It was freedom that allowed these choices to be made vs giving up personal freedom to negatively impact another’s freedom.

This is not meant to discredit myself.  It is very possible better paths could have been taken.  That putting oneself out there can create all kinds of possible outcomes.  Yet, numerous books and documentaries have shown when people are down or weakened is when they are most susceptible to influence, to being taken advantage of.  It is when we are weakened that we seek to mask, cover, alleviate the pain.  We put our freedom at risk for the chance to ease whatever pain, or hurt is seeping in.

“Human violence reaches way back into our evolutionary past and is usually about the same things that are important to chimps: resources, territory, and sexual access to females” (p.83).  These are the moments that create thoughts around the concept of freedom.  Are we ever free if our motivations are controlled by base desires?  If we are chimps in clothes with less hair and cellphones, are we free?  If anything, we waste freedom on having too much choice. Thinking things through, being able to pause, to think and choose a better outcome.  All theoretical at best, if we continue to perpetuate our destructive base nature without a moment to not do as chimps do.

As Sebastian points out, we are never free.  We live in society needing, wanting, procuring, gathering objects unnecessary for survival.  Filling homes with stuff because evolution has created animals that are easily manipulated by shiny objects and cleverly written scripts.

Another feature of “Freedom” that Sebastian writes about is how we have obtained the freedom we claim to have.  He follows train tracks and writes about their history. Charles Carroll was the last surviving signatory of the Declaration of Independence.  “Carroll claimed to be the producer of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad than of the historic document he’d signed, believing that a national transportation system – coupled with America’s vast resources and almost unlimited immigrant and slave labor – could create the most powerful country on Earth.  He was right, but that vision required both a massive expansion of government as well as the wholesale violation of property rights.  It also required overlooking the moral outrage of slavery, which was an economic asset that the federal government was not yet willing to question” (p.70).

We are supposed to enjoy freedom, while negating how that freedom was and continues to be obtained.  Freedom obtained from feigned ignorance and justification is not really freedom.  The weight of what was stolen from others for personal gain can create a justification that only allows for so much sleep at night. 

All we have learned throughout history is we are willing and will continue the subjugation of others to justify individual desires, while claiming to be for the greater good.

Sebastian put a backpack on and followed train tracks, trudged through mud, slept in rain in a desire for freedom.  To be free he required the kindness of strangers and items made by others to survive.  He learned those with means had more to lose, so were less likely to reach a hand out.  Those with less, had less to lose and were more willing to offer help.  Or maybe those with less were relating to a need and were more sympathetic towards that need.

Freedom is a word like any other.  Just a word to say things, without ever thinking about the weight or true meaning of the word. Without thinking about how freedoms we have today were obtained.  How can one person talk about freedom, while their neighbor suffers.  Who is free in that scenario?

Freedom was a thought provoking, insightful read.  It was researched, containing multitudes of historical insights and facts calling into question how we enjoy the life we live today.  He offers no conclusions.  He does not pass judgement, nor nudge the reader to think one way or the other.  In that, he offers the freedom to draw your own conclusions.

A Vegan Father… reading to improve.

Posted. Not Perfect.

Glasses

Words started to blur on the screen.  Effort was needed to read.  Effort was needed to focus.  What was happening?  Surely, the first signs of an alignment that would lead to my demise.  Record the date.  This will let my daughter know exactly when I knew the end was nigh.

What does when do when their eyes get blurry?  Make an eye appointment!  How does one do that?  There are people who have been wearing glasses since they were a child.  They know known how to navigate that world.  The closest things to an eye exam for me was the little grey box at the DMV.  Usually, ending with a compliment about “what great eyesight you have.”  A compliment worn like a “S” on my chest.

An appointment was made.  There the doctor said what was happening was a natural progression of age.  What was happening typically shows 4 years earlier.  “Be happy for four bonus years”, he said.  He said not to panic.  There was an easy fix.  All that was needed were glasses.

Last night, getting ready for bed, I kneeled on glasses laid upon the bed.  Too busy.  Too distracted.  Too focused on the jumbles in my head. 

Two years ago, those glasses would not have been curling up, getting ready for bed.  They were not part of me.  Eyes were fine.  Chugging along.  Little skips, like a car letting you it is time for a check-up.  But working and functioning.

After many months, they have not been recognized as the extension they deserve to be.  They have not become a phantom limb when missing.  They are a tool waiting to be used.  An unwanted tool.  Not fully appreciated for the services they provide (have provided).  When this kneeling happened, it was disappointing, but handled gracefully.  A moment. A flummox.  No finger pointing.  No blame.

Then unbridled panic.  Without them words cannot to be lifted off the page.  Worlds cannot be explored.  Knowledge stays contained.  Secrets hidden within the page.  Information held hostage. Me untrained to negotiate their release.

Those glasses went on a journey.  The provided comfort and security.  They allowed this blog to exist.  They curled up with a glass of wine and a good book on those first nights without my daughter sleeping in the room next to me.

It is amazing the things that can be overlooked. Unappreciated.  Underappreciated.  Neglected.  Until they no longer exist.  Until they can no longer be used.  These moments help you stop and think.  To reflect and recognize what is truly needed.  All the electronics.  The toys, the gadgets, the willy-woos and doople-dings.  In the end, just things. 

Things that cannot be used without the glasses, sitting broken, on the bed stand.

A Vegan Father… using glasses that came in a 3 pack for $9.99 at Staples.  Being appreciated for the joy they provide.

Posted.  Not perfect.

seeing

when you say to me

nothing

the words are

screaming in my ears

tears form in the corners

of my eyes

the nothing hurts more

than

don’t imagine

look and see

the power you hold over me

letting go was the only way

to set free the fear of seeing

through the tears

welling up in the corners of my

eyes

35 Minutes

35 minutes to pick-up time.  Instead of journaling inside, drinking coffee and being locked indoors, the time was taken to walk to the coffee shop.  A calming breeze, sun hidden behind trees, birds chirping loudly.  Deciding if 90’s music in the background is appreciated or not. 

Life in flux.  Something new learned in the morning, affects the day.  Will affect tomorrow.  Stack new tomorrow.  Repeat.  Each day possibilities. 

What if what is had is being wasted?  Would someone else wish to have the opportunities I have been provided?  Could someone look at what is before me and think “how dare you” not appreciate it every day?  Looking forward wanting what others have.  Jealous. “Missing” from life, what could be “if only”.  Never looking back and seeing what others see about you.  How they look and think “if only”. 

What if looking back is moving forward?  Instead of reaching for goals, reaching back, and pulling up.  Would we admire the one that reached the top having left more behind?  Or the one that never made it to the middle but pulled up many to her or his level?

History will remember the one at the top.  Many will remember the one in the middle.

I do not write for you.  I write for me.  And share with you.  Reaching from the middle.  This may be my summit.  The peak reached.  Because it is not the top there are places to go.

A Vegan Father… deciding he does appreciate the 90’s music in the background.

Posted.  Not Perfect.