I want a life I can be proud of. When I am greeted by death's sweet embrace, I want to be able to say that I gave it all without holding back. I want to know as I close my eyes for the last time that, even with all the curve balls that life has thrown my way, and will continue to throw, that I kept swinging, without fear and without reservation. To say that I stood my ground and lived with integrity and honor. That I loved deeper than the sea, and gave without hesitation. I want to work hard and build an empire. More than anything though, I want to live in truth and find where I belong in this world. So how do I do this? (an honest question to anyone that has the answer.)
The logical answer, to me, starts with work. This is not something that I am not afraid of, in fact, some might say I work to much, to these people, I have to ask is there such a thing? I love to work, I mean I kind of hate it, but it drives me. It is the only way I ever see myself getting ahead.(this might seem like I am stating the obvious, but in today's day and age of entitlement, one can't be to sure...) I spent the early part of my twenties craving acceptance and partying my life away. The bar became my church, and in all honesty, I would still rather spend the night playing pool and having a few beers, than sitting in a pew waiting for the service to get over. Don't get me wrong, I NEED to go to church, it is one of the places that God talks to me, but the facade of church is just that, a false front. Maybe I have been jaded by the past, but I never feel comfortable in church, which is ironic, since it is often referred to as a sanctuary. For me there is something unsettling about it. I see the smiles, I hear the praise music, I see everyone dressed appropriately, yet it just doesn't feel right... Part of this falls on me, in fact the majority of it falls on my shoulders.
I smile back, I sing the songs, and i dress appropriately myself, but it never feels real. The conversation never goes past the weather, and that eats at me. Why can't I be real? Why can't I say that I am having a shitty day, or that I am doubting the path that God has set me on...? Or that I sometimes question if there even is a path? If, by chance someone does care to ask, it always feels as if they are trying to save me as soon as they hear an honest answer, but here is the thing, I am 100% secure in my faith. Does that mean that I can't question things from time to time...? I sure hope not. If questions are never asked, answers are never found. To me church has become a social club, at least the churches I have been to. People worry about how many cars are in the parking lot. ( I shit you not, I have been to places where they actually publish the weekly numbers in the bulletin.) There is a lot of in-reach and not a lot of outreach, and that is why people are turned away, no one likes to be judged. I heard it said that church is just rehab for sinners, and I feel like this has been forgotten, we all have secrets that we don't want to share, and we can all be, and will be judged. I am pretty sure the Bible says"...Judge not, lest you be judged..." Our job as Christians is to show compassion and understanding. I say we leave the judgment to God.
So why am I more comfortable in bars? I have found the realest people in the world at the bar. (before or mid drunk, if they are blacked out all bets are off.) In my experience the dirtier the bar the better. No one is trying to hide the fact that they are hiding something in a bar. Everyone knows on some level that they are trying to escape something, whether its a girlfriend or boyfriend, maybe a long day at work, or just trying to avoid being lonely. The unsaid is accepted and making an ass of yourself is celebrated. I lived for it,
As I have grown older though I realize that the bar is empty, it is still fun, but if I truly want to reach my goals, it holds nothing for me. All it will do is take my money and eat my soul. So where does that leave me? I was raised in the church, but feel unwelcome (partially due to my own hypocrisy), and I rebelled in the bar, which left me alone and behind the eight ball as far a maturity goes. The only answer that I am left with is work.
Like I said, I love to work. I have no formal education so my options as far as jobs go, are somewhat limited. Lucky for me I have diabetes and I love to swing a hammer. There is something to be said for physical labor. For one, I am convince that it has kept me alive, as soon as I got diagnosed with this wonderful disease, I went back to pouring concrete. If you have never poured concrete, I have to tell you it is the most demanding job, both mentally and physically, I have ever had the pleasure of doing. I. Love. It. In my mind there are only a few things greater than spending the entire day out in the sun, racing the clock trying to make a slab perfect, or setting wall forms knowing that the end product has to be precise. Being able to see what I accomplished at the end of the day is rewarding as well. I have found this is true of any kind of construction. It is a all one big puzzle that needs to be put together with a mixture of speed and skill. Some do it well, and others, not so well, but I know that I get better at it everyday, and that is something that I take pride in.
As much as I love working with my hands, I have found myself wondering lately, if that is how I want to spend the rest of my life...? Will it lead me where I want to go? There is certainly a good living to be made doing it, and it satisfies my need to create something and solve problems. I have found, however, that there are very few people that I work well with. I have high standards, and don't like being taken advantage of, I constantly worry that the work will run out. So I ask myself what else am I capable of....? What else do I need to feel fulfilled...?
These are questions that, I will without a doubt, ponder the rest of my life. The answers are right in front of me, I just can't seem to get to them. I know that I love writing. It clears my mind, and my thoughts are easier to walk through if I can see them on the page. I also love to create art, whether it is a painting, photography, or writing a poem. It is almost a compulsion, these things also create the most doubt in my life, because they are so intensely personal, and that is where the truth lies. It is a scary truth, because I have to live up to it. I often give up, because I fear that I will not be able to stand in the light of it. As soon as I figure out how to make a living, doing these things that I love, watch out....
At the end of the day I don't need to be rich (although that would be nice), I don't think being comfortable out of the question. It would be wonderful to not have to worry every time I swipe my debit card. 30 is looming in the not to distant future and it is time to grow up. I want to build my own house, with my own hands, and after years and years of watching and learning, I now have the skills to do just that. I also want to be published within the next 5 years, I am not sure how, but I will find a way. I have been blessed in many aspects of my life, but I have also squandered many of those blessings. Something has to change, and something is changing. I am not the same person I was a year ago, so I am gonna keep truckin as they say, because the change has to start with me, and that is what I really want.
-Micah
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Day eighteen: Words are not enough. (America Post)
Today is a somber day. It is a day that we as a nation get to remember all those that have fallen, in order that we can have freedom. Freedoms that we take for granted. Forgetting the price that was paid. A bounty paid in blood. Truth is, we are indebted to the Veterans of this country, and it is a debt that can not be repaid. The thing about every Veteran I have ever met is this, they don't expect repayment, or even a thank you for that matter. Most shy away from the extra attention, not knowing how to accept the gratitude. They do it selflessly, a sense of duty so strong it is ingrained into their very nature.
The responsibility is a sacred one. They are charged with the safety of a nation. While we sleep they stand guard. When we are attacked, they are the ones that run towards the fight, standing for what is right, defending the defenseless. They are warriors, but they are also ambassadors, and re-builders of nations. When President Roosevelt (the first one) said to walk softly and carry a big stick... he was talking about the men and women of the armed services being the stick, our first, last,a and only line of defense.
In recent years I have had multiple conversations with multiple people regarding the the military and this country... I need to make something clear here, I love this country and the ideals it stands for, I still believe that this is the greatest country in the world. I believe that we have some serious issues, but I also believe that we are not beyond repair. I believe that in order to have peace you need to prepare for war. This last one means that we, as a country, need to have the best possible military... on the planet. I would say that our track record is pretty good, and this is only because of our Veterans. I have noticed a rise in disrespect for those men and women, and to be quite frank, it disgusts me. I often wonder if these people realize that the only reason they can voice their opinions is because of they thing they claim to hate... Irony...
What does it even take join the Armed Forces? First you have to go to a recruiter. This man or woman will already be in what ever branch you want to join. The test starts here, it is their job to weed out the weak and unreliable, They walk you through the process, making sure you are healthy enough, and smart enough. If you make it past their desk, you get the joy of boot camp.
Boot camp is a grueling nine weeks of intense training. We have all seen the movies and heard the stories. You get yelled at, you are told when you can eat, when you can sleep, and when you can shit. Any control you had over your life is gone the second you walk through those doors. You are torn down to your bones, stripped of anything that makes you an individual. Doing a task so many times it seems pointless. Exercising to the point of exhaustion, and then exercising some more. It is all meant to keep you alive, and more importantly keep you in the fight. To give you any sort of edge over your enemy. Tearing the weak you down to build up a stronger faster you. A you that is part of a much bigger machine, a very well oiled machine.
If you make it though the boot camp, you have earned the title of solider and you get to move on to a more specialized training. Depending on your scores, you could end up a cook, because even an army has to eat... All the way up to special forces i.e., SEALS, Delta Force, Special Forces, E.O.D., Green Berets... the list goes on. This training can go anywhere from ten weeks to two years for the more specialized assignments.
After all of this training, you get your orders, or assignment. Some are lucky enough to stay stateside, while others are deployed. Some on peace keeping missions, some are sent to war torn areas around the world. Lately the ladder has been the trend. The world seems to be falling apart around us, and without our Men and Women of service, it could be a much darker place. It is a strange thing to be both a sword and shield, yet the warriors in the United States Armed Forces do it everyday, making it look easy.
The best part of all of this is that we have a 100% volunteer fighting force. They are our neighbors. They are our cousins. They are our sons and daughters. They are our brothers. They are our sisters. They are our chosen ones, because they carry the weight of a nation on their backs. They don't falter in resolve, and they don't run from a fight. They are so much of what makes this country great... Words are not enough, they can not capture gratitude I feel, but they are all I have, so I would like to say thank you to all past, present, and future service men and women, I hope you know this country loves you and is forever grateful.
-Micah
The responsibility is a sacred one. They are charged with the safety of a nation. While we sleep they stand guard. When we are attacked, they are the ones that run towards the fight, standing for what is right, defending the defenseless. They are warriors, but they are also ambassadors, and re-builders of nations. When President Roosevelt (the first one) said to walk softly and carry a big stick... he was talking about the men and women of the armed services being the stick, our first, last,a and only line of defense.
In recent years I have had multiple conversations with multiple people regarding the the military and this country... I need to make something clear here, I love this country and the ideals it stands for, I still believe that this is the greatest country in the world. I believe that we have some serious issues, but I also believe that we are not beyond repair. I believe that in order to have peace you need to prepare for war. This last one means that we, as a country, need to have the best possible military... on the planet. I would say that our track record is pretty good, and this is only because of our Veterans. I have noticed a rise in disrespect for those men and women, and to be quite frank, it disgusts me. I often wonder if these people realize that the only reason they can voice their opinions is because of they thing they claim to hate... Irony...
What does it even take join the Armed Forces? First you have to go to a recruiter. This man or woman will already be in what ever branch you want to join. The test starts here, it is their job to weed out the weak and unreliable, They walk you through the process, making sure you are healthy enough, and smart enough. If you make it past their desk, you get the joy of boot camp.
Boot camp is a grueling nine weeks of intense training. We have all seen the movies and heard the stories. You get yelled at, you are told when you can eat, when you can sleep, and when you can shit. Any control you had over your life is gone the second you walk through those doors. You are torn down to your bones, stripped of anything that makes you an individual. Doing a task so many times it seems pointless. Exercising to the point of exhaustion, and then exercising some more. It is all meant to keep you alive, and more importantly keep you in the fight. To give you any sort of edge over your enemy. Tearing the weak you down to build up a stronger faster you. A you that is part of a much bigger machine, a very well oiled machine.
If you make it though the boot camp, you have earned the title of solider and you get to move on to a more specialized training. Depending on your scores, you could end up a cook, because even an army has to eat... All the way up to special forces i.e., SEALS, Delta Force, Special Forces, E.O.D., Green Berets... the list goes on. This training can go anywhere from ten weeks to two years for the more specialized assignments.
After all of this training, you get your orders, or assignment. Some are lucky enough to stay stateside, while others are deployed. Some on peace keeping missions, some are sent to war torn areas around the world. Lately the ladder has been the trend. The world seems to be falling apart around us, and without our Men and Women of service, it could be a much darker place. It is a strange thing to be both a sword and shield, yet the warriors in the United States Armed Forces do it everyday, making it look easy.
The best part of all of this is that we have a 100% volunteer fighting force. They are our neighbors. They are our cousins. They are our sons and daughters. They are our brothers. They are our sisters. They are our chosen ones, because they carry the weight of a nation on their backs. They don't falter in resolve, and they don't run from a fight. They are so much of what makes this country great... Words are not enough, they can not capture gratitude I feel, but they are all I have, so I would like to say thank you to all past, present, and future service men and women, I hope you know this country loves you and is forever grateful.
-Micah
Friday, November 7, 2014
Day seventeen: Picking back up. (keep it moving post)
I had to force myself to sit down and write this. If you have been following this blog I have to apologize for it taking this long to get something new up. There are a couple of reasons for this. I have been working non stop for the last twelve days, and I was exhausted. This is an excuse, it is a good excuse, but it is an excuse none the less. This is important to me, with that being said, it is also very scary... to look so deeply into myself, I have found that I don't like what is looking back. I am still torn between what I should be and what I am.
This is not the first time I have talked about the battle wages on inside my mind, and it will probably not be the last. It consumes my thoughts some days. I know that I have the capacity for good, but for me this fact it is a double edge sword. I inherently know when I do good things. I think we all do. I can feel it. It makes my pride swell. As my pride swells, I start to see my good deeds as a kind of hall pass. It's like; if I do enough good, it excuses some of the bad. It always starts out as fun, but soon the bad starts to out weigh the good. The guilt starts to pile up, like a big pile of smelly shit. I begin to feel defeated as I watch what I worked so hard to build come crumbling down around me. This always leads to a heavy bout of self hatred, and worse, disappointment.
As the stress builds, I eventually crack and run as far and as fast from the implosion as possible, leaving a path of emotional wreckage in my wake. This is the thing I dislike the most about myself. I am a runner. I will stand toe to toe with anyone. I have gotten my ass kicked on more than one occasion, by multitudes of people, and I would do it all again, on some level I even enjoyed it, smiling as the blood trickles down my face. I view it as the punishment I deserve. However, if you confront me with some kind of emotional threat, I am gone...
It has been well over a week since I sat down at this computer to write because I was lacing up my running shoes. The problem I am finding is that I cannot out run myself. No matter how hard I try,.. and fact of the matter is I am tired of running.
I lost my words for a week, but I am finding my way back into the light. I have had many people applaud me in the past few weeks, saying they admire my honesty, People I didn't expect, and I can not tell you what your kind words have meant to me, My fear is that I will let you down, because now I have to live up to that honesty. I feel arrogant I type this ,but it is the truth,
I am going to keep this one short, but I am also going to press on, I am two posts past half way, leaving me with thirteen more, the end is in sight and I have a renewed vigor to dive back in, to dig out the monster that has lurked in the shadows my whole life. I will cut him out and expose him, so won't you continue this little journey with me? I promise it will be interesting, and maybe even a little bit entertaining.
-Micah
This is not the first time I have talked about the battle wages on inside my mind, and it will probably not be the last. It consumes my thoughts some days. I know that I have the capacity for good, but for me this fact it is a double edge sword. I inherently know when I do good things. I think we all do. I can feel it. It makes my pride swell. As my pride swells, I start to see my good deeds as a kind of hall pass. It's like; if I do enough good, it excuses some of the bad. It always starts out as fun, but soon the bad starts to out weigh the good. The guilt starts to pile up, like a big pile of smelly shit. I begin to feel defeated as I watch what I worked so hard to build come crumbling down around me. This always leads to a heavy bout of self hatred, and worse, disappointment.
As the stress builds, I eventually crack and run as far and as fast from the implosion as possible, leaving a path of emotional wreckage in my wake. This is the thing I dislike the most about myself. I am a runner. I will stand toe to toe with anyone. I have gotten my ass kicked on more than one occasion, by multitudes of people, and I would do it all again, on some level I even enjoyed it, smiling as the blood trickles down my face. I view it as the punishment I deserve. However, if you confront me with some kind of emotional threat, I am gone...
It has been well over a week since I sat down at this computer to write because I was lacing up my running shoes. The problem I am finding is that I cannot out run myself. No matter how hard I try,.. and fact of the matter is I am tired of running.
I lost my words for a week, but I am finding my way back into the light. I have had many people applaud me in the past few weeks, saying they admire my honesty, People I didn't expect, and I can not tell you what your kind words have meant to me, My fear is that I will let you down, because now I have to live up to that honesty. I feel arrogant I type this ,but it is the truth,
I am going to keep this one short, but I am also going to press on, I am two posts past half way, leaving me with thirteen more, the end is in sight and I have a renewed vigor to dive back in, to dig out the monster that has lurked in the shadows my whole life. I will cut him out and expose him, so won't you continue this little journey with me? I promise it will be interesting, and maybe even a little bit entertaining.
-Micah
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