Do It Anyway

They say wisdom comes with age. I’m not so sure that it’s only an age thing, but a combination of that and experience.  Life’s lessons aren’t just lessons learned as Father Time ticks away the years, because I’ve met many older people who’ve led very sheltered and narrow-minded lives, and never learned a damned thing. However, experience alone doesn’t grant us this wisdom either, because I’ve also seen some people who have experienced some tragic and great things, yet still never learned anything, either.

So, what is the key to wisdom?  I think it might have something to do with learning from the experiences we’ve had throughout time.  Not that we can learn everything, because no matter how much we try, we are fallible humans.  Everything we do learn, or are exposed to, is filtered through our level of understanding.  For some that level is higher, more open, and allows more to filter through, while others have smaller holes, and very little gets through.  Our filters are made up of our preconceived ideas, theologies, cultural influences, regional inspirations, religious teachings, parental guidance or lack thereof. Our filters come from the pain we’ve experienced, and the joys of pleasure.  My filter has some very small holes, as well as some very large ones.  But, have I learned anything?

Love is an enigma.  It’s the one thing I’ve pursued harder than anything in my life. It’s also the one thing I’ve ran from faster, and has eluded me more times than I could count.  It seems just when I find it, it’s taken away from me.  It’s like the biggest cosmic joke.  I’m so afraid to be happy, because just when I find happiness, it’s taken from me - first by death, then by cancer, and recently by … well, I’m still not sure what happened. It’s the most confusing of all.

So, what can I do?  Though I’m scared. Though I’m confused. Though my filters are all messed up. Though my faith is weak.  Though my heart is one big fucking mangled mess… I do it anyway.

I dare to hope, when I see no hope.

I dare to dream, even when my dreams are filled with nightmares.

I dare to smile, even when I feel like dying inside.

I dare to sing, even when my voice is cracked or hindered by the big knot in it.

I dare to love, even when I’m not loved in return.

This is the thing I’ve learned.  I could choose to hate, and be angry, and feel sorry for myself.  That’s easy.  I could hold grudges, return pain for pain, be vindictive, and be selfish.  That too is easy. These are the actions of the weak-minded, selfish, shallow, and deplorable.  They only breed onto themselves and cause more of what hurt them in the first place.  These become the ugly monsters in the universe, spreading their disease like a zombie. Once infected, they spread their hate to everyone else that dares to love or get close to them. I choose to be different.  I’d carry pain to keep from causing pain. I’d give everything I had to prevent someone else’s suffering.  I choose to give the very things I need most in my life. Because I know, that I know, that I know – because I’ve learned – the only hope I have is to give love if I ever hope to receive it. Real love. Not this imitation bullshit called passion, chemistry and infatuation.  Those are nice, but only temporary and vain.  Though most of the world accepts that vanity, and never moves beyond it, confusing it for love, I can’t. I’ve felt the real thing, so I can’t accept the imitation.

If I have to sit across the table from a thousand men, or ten thousand men, I hope to someday look into a pair of eyes and see the love I’ve been waiting for, that I’ve been sending out into the universe, hoping and praying it makes its way back to me.  And if not… then I leave this world having sown love, hope, joy, goodness and kindness… so that maybe someone else doesn’t only meet made monsters.

This song sums it up perfectly.

Do It Anyway – Martina McBride

You could spend your whole life building something from nothing, and a storm could come and blow it all away… build it anyway.

You could chase a dream that seems so out of reach, and you know it might not ever come your way… dream it anyway.

God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good. And when I pray, it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should… but I do it anyway. I do it anyway.

This world’s gone crazy and it’s hard to believe that tomorrow will be better than today… believe it anyway.

You could love someone with all your heart for all the right reasons, and a moment they could choose to walk away… love ‘em anyway.

God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good. And when I pray, it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should… but I do it anyway. I do it anyway.

You could pour your soul out singing a song you believe in, but tomorrow they’ll forget you ever sang… sing it anyway.  Sing it anyway.

I sing, I dream, I love ….anyway.

The Gray Lady

I never claim to have all the answers.  In fact, I often proclaim, quite loudly, that I don’t really know anything.  Because every time I think I begin to understand something, become confident of a certain outcome, get comfortable with  believing something will not change – it up and changes on me, disrupts my life, and messes with every piece of security I’ve tightly gripped.

I used to be so certain of things when I lived in my black and white box and held tightly to my concrete beliefs.  As long as I kept my eyes shut, I could pretend that I lived in a picture-perfect world.  As long as I shut my feelings off, I didn’t have to care.  I could continue to spend my time telling everyone else how they’re supposed to believe, react, and live.  As long as I led a crusade to save the world, no one could see me.  As long as I put duty and responsibility first, I’d be accepted, praised for my efforts,  and hailed a model of respect and dignity.  Never let them touch me. Never let them see my weaknesses, my fears, and especially my tears – not my real ones. That’s doubt.  There is no room for doubt in a black and white world, only certainty.

But I opened my eyes, and I pulled out the cotton from my ears, and then stepped out of the box and into a gray world. All I had known and had been certain crumbled along with the box I left behind.  There’s no going back.  With no sun to guide me, no signs to lead me, no mile markers to measure my distance as I wander aimlessly within this gray world.  Each step I take, I shed another layer of the disguise I had once worn.  I now walk naked, exposed, gray like the world that surrounds me.

I pass by many other boxes and peek inside them from time to time, witnessing the occupants like rats scurrying around as if they believed they were on a mission.  They’re hungry and they search for food, but they only have the four walls in which to explore. Their food is fed to them in a daily portion, yet they believe they found it through their own exploration and skill.   I’m hungry too, but within my gray world, I wonder if it’s truly open or just a bigger box?

I wish I had all the answers.  I wish those I’ve come to care for deeply didn’t vanish with the wind.  I wish families loved one another.  I wish people meant what they said, and did what they meant.  I wish fear didn’t rule so many lives. I wish there were no boxes. In this Gray land,  it strips us down to our essential selves, to our honest selves, to bone.  My skin melts away and I’ve exposed my heart and all that is on the inside.    From dust I was made, and unto dust I shall soon return.  Maybe then I’ll understand.  Maybe then God can breathe life into these dry bones



~Till next time,

The Gray Lady

Rational Debate

In light of the recent news reports, political pundits, protest riots, looting, and argumentative angst on both sides of the issue concerning the fatal shooting in Ferguson, I’ve tried to remain quiet and not respond emotionally.  I’ve listened to the various arguments and have tried to see things from all perspectives. I have to say I don’t get most of them – on either side of the issue.  I’m so sick of all the race baiting and bashing in this world. We are human beings – all of us, yet we sometimes act worse than the most rabid of animals.

I’ve been so frustrated without realizing why I’ve been frustrated.  I believe it’s due to the fact I’ve been unable to verbally express what’s been rolling around inside my mind and heart, because honestly I felt like it didn’t matter anyway and there was really no one that I could share my true thoughts and feelings.  Not because I don’t have anyone to listen, but I feel there are very few who CAN listen – hear me without bias, without prejudice, without judgment, without a PC or anti-PC or victim’s mentality who would try and stuff me into one of their preconceived boxes.  I’ll either be labeled a racist or fascist – instead of a rationalist. 

There really isn’t such a thing as a rational debate anymore – there’s a contest to see who can shout the loudest, who can incite the more powerful emotional response, and who is right or wrong.  It’s not about the issues anymore – because everyone is now a victim, everyone is now more concerned with being heard and being right than being reasonable.   I honestly gave up the hope of hearing or witnessing a rational debate until a friend of mine shared his frustrations with me this morning.  I feel honored and privileged he shared his wise thoughts with me – because his words freed me.  He was able to verbalize what I could only feel for so long. 

“Claiming victory over a debate is wrong on so many levels.  There are no winners or losers.  It’s an exchange of ideas.  That’s the bottom line.” ~ Sergeant T. Emilio Solano “If we’re going to outrage about something, it should never be one-sided.  We should focus on the act and the bottom line, not the reasons.  Murder is murder.  If a black guy shoots a white guy or vice versa, it should not matter to the level of outrage.  It’s a man killing a man.”

I couldn’t agree more. I honestly feel that when we focus on the race of the victim or perpetrator that is the moment we dismiss the humanity and all rationalization.  Responses from that moment forward become not about the crime/act, but about the skin.

Sergeant Solano continues, “Why are we so infatuated with the reasons?  Does it really matter?  A crime was committed.  Harm was done.  Does it matter who or why?  Reason should only matter on self-defense cases.  That’s it.  A community of poor uneducated people (the majority are) should not care if a white cop shoots a black dude.  Do we revolt when a black man shoots a white man in a trailer park?  I’m tired when any minority cries out about how bad they have it, or how underprivileged they are.  If you want to succeed - go to school and make a better life for yourself.”

Again, I couldn’t agree more.  My friend is a great example.  He is man of mixed races, born in the Dominican Republic and not of privilege, yet has worked hard to make something of himself.  He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs, and takes pride in all he sets himself to do – working with excellent ethics for nearly 15 years in the Army. He's been in combat, is a leader, a teacher, a role model, and my admiration and respect for him is intangible. The way his subordinates respect him is not something given or granted, but earned.   It’s also something very lacking in pop culture today. 

I made the response to him, “We live in a PC world where everyone is a victim.  You’re of a different mindset.  You see individuality and personal responsibility, and that, my friend, puts you into another minority.”

He responded, “In nature, victims get eaten.  In humanity, those who want to play the victim and not strive to change should be purged. We don’t need their sorryness (I know… it’s not a real word) around the rest of us who strive every day.  Nobody really cares if you’ve been oppressed, enslaved, or abused.  Grow up, become stronger, educate yourself, and work hard.  We all have the same opportunities.  Nobody cares about your sorrows.” 

If we all look into our own closets, we ALL have been victimized in some way.  We have ALL felt and experienced some form of oppression, enslavement, or abuse.  EVERY ONE of us (black, white, rich, poor and every box we’ve created between).  These experiences all lend to reasons for how we react, but they’re not excuses.  There are really no excuses for repaying one bad deed with another.  Our response is truly what separates victims from survivors - from those who fail and those who overcome.

Let’s be human beings, love one another as humans, and care for one another as humans.  Let us examine all things with rational debate – remove the race, the hate, the prejudice, the boxes, and the victimization.  Let’s talk to each other, not at each other. 

I love and admire my friend very much.  He’s not bad to look at either, but it’s his mind for rational debate that makes him truly beautiful.

Till next time

~T.L. Gray

Confident Assurance

What is it?

Confident – feeling or showing confidence in oneself; self-assured.

Assurance – a positive declaration intended to give confidence; a promise.  Confidence or certainty in one’s own abilities.

Confidence – the feeling or belief that one can rely on someone or something; firm trust.  The state of feeling certain about the truth of something.  A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation from one’s own abilities or qualities.

Wow!  They sound like the same thing, but they’re really not. I can’t fully explain what confident assurance is without it sounding like I’m repeating the same definitions listed above, but I can tell you I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes.

I like to watch people even when they don’t think I’m looking.  I listen to them even when it appears I’m not listening.  Sometimes I don’t respond right away, because I’m pondering, wondering, and allowing the ideas to roll around in my thoughts until I’m able to organize them into some semblance of understandable form.  I blog about what I’m trying to understand, because in order to write it I have to organize all those wayward thoughts into some semblance of cognate reasoning.

I have a friend that would be the prime model for Confident Assurance.  This characteristic emanates from his pores like pheromones as if it were an natural part of his DNA.  Maybe it is because he has a brother that seems to also exude many of the same qualities. I’ve watched this man closely, I’ve listened to him speak, I’ve observed him in many different scenarios, and this one thing is constant – this confident assurance.

I’ve watched his eyes look at one thing, yet see everything.  I’ve watched his body in both attention and rest, recreation and sleep, and even still it operates with the smoothness of confident assurance.  It makes me wonder if it’s something taught or something learned, or perhaps a mixture of both.

There’s a sense of authority, an unspoken wisdom, a deeper knowledge like a treasure hidden in a fortified chest that covers this man and all he does.  I envy and admire him and this quality, perhaps because I’m such the opposite in many ways and desire to obtain some of these qualities in myself.  Yet, I like the qualities I have.  I’m passionate, while he’s reserved.  I’m emotional, while he’s practical.  I’m a dreamer and react as if I already possess those dreams, while he is a realist and lives in the moment, rarely beyond the hour or even the day.  I’m clay, while he’s steel.  He inspires me and makes me want to be confidently assured.  I can only hope that I inspire him in a similar way, though I highly doubt it.

My friend told me this morning, “Observations are pointless without construction.”  I couldn’t agree more.  That’s why I sometimes don’t immediately respond or instantly fail to understand the morsel of wisdom being shared.  But that doesn’t mean it’s lost on me.  Those words or ideas will roll over and over in my mind until I learn to break them down, separate them, pull them apart, and then put them back together again.  Sometimes I make a complete mess and the result I end up with is a tangled misunderstanding. This happens most often when things are expressed that I have trouble hearing because of the damage of my previous scars, but I’m healing. Sometimes I’m able to reconstruct, knowing every part of these wise words and how they function.  The result - is confident assurance.

I love my friend just as he is and wouldn’t ever want to change him.  I celebrate and admire our differences.  I love me just as I am.  Sure, I’d like to walk with a bit more confident assurance like he does, and I’m working on it thanks to his influence, but I wouldn’t want to lose me in the process.  I’m not perfect, quite the opposite – perhaps the Queen of Imperfection, but I love, feel, experience, and speak with my whole heart. I live out loud in honesty. I’ll never be boring. Granted, sometimes I’m a complete mess and get a lot of things wrong, but I’m an honest mess.  In that fact …I am confidently assured.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Passion Vs. Indifference

“Some men are too dull to feel what might happen. Others torture themselves with maybes and populate their dreams with horrors more terrible than their worst enemy could inflict upon them.” 
― Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns

This is one of the reasons why I’m a Mark Lawrence fan.  There are baubles of wisdom such as this all through the Broken Empire series.  While I zip through his books on a first read to discover what happens plot-wise and character-wise, I then slow down, take my time and meditate on many of the passages, such as the one listed above, and really sit back in awe at his wisdom.

This phrase has been rolling around in my brain for a few days because I find myself once again at another crossroad, with another huge decision to make, and teeter back and forth concerning my choices.

I’m guilty of doing everything described above.  At times, not because I’m dull, but perhaps because I’m numb, I can’t even form the words in my mind or heart of what might happen, so I feel and think nothing, pushing all thoughts away.  Then other times, many times really, I lose sleep worried over all the possibilities of what could be successful, and terrified by all the fears of what could be disastrous.   Welcome to humanity.

However, if I had to choose between the two, I’d choose the latter, because I’d rather feel fear and uncertainty than nothing at all.  Indifference, in my opinion, is the worse state to exist.  Anger, hate, fear, hope, love and anticipation are all varying degrees of passion.  I’d rather be passionate, even if it’s passionately wrong, than be passion-less, indifferent, or dull.  I might as well be dead.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

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