Persistent Love

Have you noticed that it’s the people who are in pain who find it hard to receive a hug?

I once saw a video of a dog barking madly and hiding in a corner. The end of the video showed how a loving and persistent person was able to soothe and free that dog. That crazed dog became a pet.

I like the movie Spirit because it displays two ways of taming a horse. Now I don’t know much about horses,  but I fell in love with the way the Indian treated the horse. He befriended the horse, was gentle, patient, kind and persistent.

So I ask, are we as humans going to start loving persistently? Are we going to find those that are so hurt, so ashamed, so trapped and starting loving them persistently?

No matter where we are at in the world, in culture, in socioeconomic status, there are people nearby that need compassion, grace, freedom and human touch. Go find them.

When’s the last time the world wasn’t falling apart?

Thanks for the quote, Blood Diamond.

Blood Diamond is an ugly presentation of harsh realities that are not strictly African, but human. Continually, we let each other down. We give into darkness and we sharpen our blades while our neighbors are longing for a friend, our children are desperate for meaning and attention, our old folks are fading away painfully and our institutions crumble under the weight of always-to-heavy, ever-changing demands.

Ask yourself really: When is the last time the world wasn’t falling apart? It always has been! Since that old FALL in the garden of Eden, however that took place. Don’t worry about the interpretation, just admit that there is something common to humanity in that ALL of us fall. We all fail. We have all broken down. We all need hope and love.

Now ask yourself: What can I do for my family and community that might push back the falling tide, even just a little? Maybe you’ll think of gifts you can give, gifts of words, gifts of passion, gifts of material. Maybe you’ll realize there’s someone in your life that is going through a hard time and that you should stop neglecting them. Maybe you’ll even do some deep digging and realize that you have an addiction you need to kick and that maybe you should start attending some counseling sessions and classes.

Our lives are so different, yet they are the same. We all have great capacities for good and for evil. We need to embrace each other, now and later. We need to accept each other, now and later. We need to BE each other, now and later. 

 

hands

 

A fellow writer inspired this “starry-eyed” poetry

My respect was for this writer was well-deserved by these last six lines:

“Does the Universe mourn the dying star?
Or does it celebrate it giving birth to new possibilities?
Does the star truly die?
Or can it only transform?
For I am stardust.
Dancing in the darkness.”

Inspired, I wrote this and had great fun doing it:

“Do we not fall apart

Into what seems a timeless dark

Only to someday collide

With some drifting supernova?

And then

From within fall apart

Who are we?

If we are not stars,

I do not know who we are.

We shine and fizzle

We are born

And we do explode

We are so far away from others

Yet we long for them to look at us

To accept that we, like stars, should not be hidden behind human constructs or adjusted

By human lights.

NO! We should be celebrated, for, like stars, we are strong and bright.

Like stars, we glisten as we survive the night.

Who am I to write of Transcendence?

I am not well today. What the psychiatric realm refers to as Bipolarity has me in a deep down curve. I am wondering with a tint of despair and anger about great and deep questions. I am wondering what the hell Jesus was actually thinking when he claimed that giving up selfish tendencies would bring abundant life and peace. I am wondering what my mother’s hopes really are, hopes which seem to be tied directly to the welfare of her only son. (Her sometimes addicted, bipolar son). I am wondering what it might be that has caused my wife to stay all this time when I have been the channel by which she tasted so many sad realities. I am wondering how my Dad sees me, like, what does he think of me? Most of all, I’m wondering when the falling phase of my life will transition into the caught phase, the breeze-blown dancing phase, the phase of love, peace and tranquility.

See, I know I have had many wicked schemes in my mind. I know I have walked down too many dark alleys. I have tasted too much of Babylon’s spirits, touched to many Babylonian women and been to close to the fire of greed and envy, for too long.

I am currently trying to commit myself to different paths like regular meetings with a Psychiatrist, some AA meetings and some very frank and vulnerable talks with my Pastor, but I’m feeling no sense of hope and I’m doubting any relief will come, because I have already been through all these things and much more before.

Know this, I am a good person. Like, I have given a very expensive leather jacket to a homeless guy because I was pleased that he wanted warmth and not liquor. I have gone on “mission trips” and even wept when I saw that very poor people in other nations often have more tranquility and goodness in them than the wealthy americans I have always known. I want to live a good life and be good, but I feel the forces of family, faith, frigidly cold temptation, and forgiveness whispering with doubt and with trust, with righteousness and with wicked plotting. All of these things and much more, both good and bad, are coming like a tornado upon my soul.

I know I’m not alone.

 

Meander: A Bipolar Perspective

I wish I could say I meander between two poles, that I smoothly shift, in total control, between each pole whenever I want, however I want. I can’t say that though, because I am bipolar. I’ve been called many things by doctors, internists, psychiatrists, and I really  buck labels, but I have seen that I do pretty closely resemble the expression of bipolarity that the symptoms sheets put forth.

Oh God, let me meander. I’m tired of dramatic flights. I’m tired of confusing fights. I’m tired of words like abrupt, instant, surprise, extreme and shift. Let me meander the way I imagine others meandering. Let me stop and smell the flowers. Let me embrace quiet times. Let me know relaxation. Let me keep what I’ve learned throughout all this fear-inciting struggle with mania and depression, but let me begin a new journey, a journey of meandering, a journey of walks through the park and with the park instead of walks through the park and above the park.

To meander seems a nice goal to have, a goal worthy of the struggle.  I desire a smooth, winding course and now the direct, impatient course.

 

via Daily Prompt: Meander

Poem about Bipolarity

All the deep disconnects
All the instant, dramatic shifts
All the painful build-ups
To so few prized gifts

All the shadow days
And the manic nights
The manic days
and shadow nights

All the extremes and lows
All the rescuers who tried
to push and pull me into molds
And all the times we cried

The devastating disappointments
The ruthless, soul wrenching revelations
I shouted, “God have you appointed
for me any purification or elevation?”

Yes, this I will see at the right time.
Maybe long after my bipolarity is normalized
All the frustrations and stormy atomic frames of mind
Will all fade somehow as I keep looking to the sky