Today, I’m mourning a loss. It is for me, nothing short of a tragedy. This sad story began while out with some friends having drinks. I was at the jukebox creating a playlist simply to have some background noise while we sat and talked. There I sat unsuspecting any malice was abound when out of nowhere the tile floor jumped up and smacked Hilary down. Hilary is one of my closest confidants and we have become friends on a very personal and/or intimate level. When I saw what had occurred I immediate rushed to her rescue. I felt so helpless as I witnessed the assault on poor unsuspecting Hilary. The worst part is the fact that the assault was unprovoked and it just boiled down to a senseless display of aggression on the part of the provocateur. Hilary lay there motionless… I picked her up and turned her over, noticing that one side of her face was black. It appeared as if she has suffered some sort of traumatic short-circuit. When I saw the damage, my heart just sank as I realized that what she and I once had would be forever changed. I cradled, the motionless Hilary in my hands as one of my friends screamed from the corner… “Oh Wow, what happened”? To even explain what had just occurred seemed beyond my capability. My mouth was dry and I could barely tear my eyes away from what I was witnessing. It took everything in my power to not scream out. I drew the energy from someplace deep within to carry my weary self back to the embrace of my friends and contemplate my next move. For most tragic situations that evoke this type of searing emotion, dialing 9-1-1 is an option. However, I sat with my face in my hands and thought over and over. “Did I get the Apple Care Plan or did I opt out”? My stress level increased even more as I realized that I did not have the answer to this burning question. Even though I had the undying support of my friends, they could only render sad eyes to reflect their pity on my current situation and me. Tomorrow I will make the pilgrimage to the Apple Store where I will replace Hilary with another iPhone 5s and lay her to rest forever. Please send positive thoughts my way as deal with this feeling of loss.
Loving you motivates me to seek the satisfaction that only “our” physical love can provide. Achieving satisfaction at that level is what sustains me from your dawning of your arrival to the dusk of your departure.
Failure to find and achieve the level of satisfaction that exists only within you, motivates me to seek “it” more often to quell the yearning within me.
The lack of maintenance, increases my motivation, lowers my satisfaction and results in emotional disequilibrium. From the depths of those feelings arises one constant truth… “I am less when I’m without you.”
Imagine a beautiful and capable woman who has the potential to achieve anything that she puts her mind to, crippled by her own illogical belief system and fueled by a continually narrowing perspective of her own worldview. In the beginning you want to give her the benefit of the doubt and think that you can change her views by showing her that you are not her past and your interests begin and end with knowing and loving her in the manner that would inspire best-seller romance novels. However, she spends all of her waking moments on “high-alert” waiting to uncover proof that you are not who you say you are. Your telephone rings and the name of a woman is illuminated on the screen of your resurrected iPhone that laid practically dead all night long. She fails to associate the likelihood of your professional responsibilities intersecting with her relentless need to nurture her own insecurities. That damning call is the impetus to launch an investigation that is justifiably without boundaries. Your belongings are searched, uncovered telephone numbers and business cards are steeped in gripping suspicion. Old condoms that she told you to buy become your undoing, her family and friends are notified that you are a cheater and cannot be trusted all before she even bothers to question you or confirm her suspicions.
The stage is set… one evening after work you call her to tell her that you are stopping off for drinks with co-workers and would be home in an hour. You are just few miles away and she knows your exact location. When you finally arrive home 45 minutes later than you originally predicted, you’re met with a tight-lipped greeting and every word after is dipped in boiling condescension and hurled in your direction in a sideways manner when you are least expecting it. You ride it out and rationalize to yourself, that maybe she just wanted to be included in your plans and she loves you, “that’s all”. However, little do you know, that the investigation is still underway and you have just inspired its second wind. The following week, you decide to stop at a different bar after being invited by coworkers that has over 300 different imported beers (stouts, lagers, ales, IPAs, pilsners, bocks and ambers, but you decide to just keep it to yourself. This place is a beer drinker’s heaven. You have a drink, share some laughs and post a few selfies on your favorite social network. It’s all harmless and safe to do, because your social network is private and she is not associated with your account.
You’re sitting at your desk in your office and get a text message accompanied by her familiar ringtone. You begin reading it and find that because, you did not tell her that you went to the bar and had a few drinks with friends, you are prone to hiding stuff and cannot be trusted. She has managed to get one of your connections to relay information about your social networking habits and now you are “Busted” in her mind. She gives you details of what you have posted as if to say, “Aha!!” The more she rambles the more your face gets contorted and the more she sounds unstable. The message goes on to tell you that you “obviously want to be single” and you have failed in the relationship, because you could have used your time at the bar to come home to take her out. Since that was not your initial reaction or purpose, she must not mean anything to you at all and she has now packed up her stuff and will be leaving in five minutes or less, because she has had enough. You find yourself staring at the phone and one recurring thought is passing through your mind…. “What the Hell”?!?!
Borderline Personality Disorder affects 2% of the world’s population and 97% of those persons affected are women. This disorder is not treatable through pharmacology and is brought on by biopsychosocial disruption that begins in childhood due to continued exposure to an invalidating environment. The failure of parents and caregivers to validate a child’s feelings, meet their emotional needs and nurture them appropriately results in a relentless desire to protect themselves from real or imagined harm/danger. Those that suffer from this disorder have an inordinate amount of real or imagined independence. To love a person with this disorder requires a great deal of energy, dedication and a loss of friendships, or personal relationships that do not include them. Over time, there can be a general loss of oneself unless the affected person seeks help. The disorder is manageable, but the affected person must first realize that there is a problem and assume a position of self-awareness and self-interest to overcome the problem through therapy.
To quietly declare your visceral appreciation and drink hungrily with your eyes in hopes of being forever satisfied. Then to realize that frequent glances and mental snapshots are simply not enough. In those moments you realize that a part of yourself has been awakened and is by nature insatiable. You choose not to stare for she may find your growing attraction to her beauty too forward. You choose to err on the side of caution, you look away and the regret piles up around your feet like pages being ripped from books that you failed to read.
I believe that people who are like-minded, if brought into a reasonable proximity of each other will be pulled together just as the positive and negative ends of two magnets. In recent weeks, this reoccurring phenomena has manifested itself in my life yet with an in-descriptive expression. The number of times that this has occurred is more than I care to count. The thing that is different about today is, I recognize the nature of it and choose to give honor to its existence.
We (my friend’s and I) have found a quaint little bar with a great deal of personality and philosophy in the “bottled” spirits that it sells. There isn’t any hard alcohol, but the quality and quantity of beers are nothing short of remarkable. There are three of us. A triad of vast life experiences and wisdom brought on by exposing ourselves fearlessly to life’s joys, sorrows, and barely escapable pitfalls. We secretly slip into this world that is just ours. Here we lean on each other for support through life’s little trials. The world outside sometimes bleed into that quiet and dimly lit space by way of the little devices periodically glowing on the other end of the invisible shackles extending from our wrists. Sometimes our moods are affected by those little messages that seep in. However, In that space (The Office) we share ourselves with each other. We shine like a beacon to each other and each of us acts as a moth to a candle that burns behind the cloud of negativity that affects us in our everyday life. The brighter the candle burns with the addition and deposit of each of our selves into the glow of the other, the cloud (fog) is burned away and our truest selves are exposed. We weather the storms of our busy and often chaotic lives with each other through simple sharing. It proves that people truly need each other and the quality of any relationship is defined upon the spectrum of candle wattage that is reflected onto the expectant faces of the other.
Today I saw a posting about which would be more harmful to our health when comparing Alcohol, Cigarettes and Marijuana. Without really thinking about it, I wrote my most immediate thoughts down and was rather surprised with the results. There was a time when my values set would not have allowed me to be so indifferent to the Mary Jane. However, here is what I responded to the reader with.
I think it’s all relative. I think one substance can affect our health at a faster rate than the others in succession. However, following that logic I would say 1. Cigarettes 2. Alcohol 3. Marijuana. It’s the difference between been shot with a small caliber pistol, stabbed with a Fisher Price knife or tickled to death. All will affect some part of our health, but it depends on the level of usage. ~zenandtruth
In the last year, I have become really cognizant of the things or ideas that people generally and openly subscribe to. We all know these things to be defined as individual worldviews, value systems or one’s schema. We all have a prescribed believe system that was handed down to us from our parents/caregivers in the childhood environment we are most familiar with. Some views are so simple people would not care if you subscribed to them or not. Other views can be so important to self or others, they have an effect that is rivaled only by religious dogma. When I was a child, my mother would open a new bag of sugar and placed the unused portion into a countertop canister. When visiting a friend’s house recently, I noticed that her unused sugar was in the door of her refrigerator. Immediately, I asked if this was an inadvertent by-product of a busy life? She replied “No” and said that her mother always did it. When I thought about the unused sugar in own my house today, I realized that it was on the countertop, just like my mother used to do it. It made me laugh a little when I realized how our worldviews can be taught to us so indirectly, yet become a rigid part of our personal make up.
I have been a fan and practitioner of “Hot Yoga” for the last year or so. I have been inviting my friends and co-workers to join me over the last 6 months at a record rate. A few people have taken me up on my offer, but very few have taken to it like I have. I guess my experiences lead me to openly experience the practice of Yoga and embrace the benefits. Some of those that I invited seemingly wanted to be able to say, “Yeah… I do Yoga”.
This past week I invited someone new to try Yoga with me. We exchanged mobile numbers and planned to schedule a day to practice at the studio that I patronize. We shared a few funny and light-hearted exchanges over approximately two days. The second day she asked me (via text) about the family that I mentioned a few nights before at a party. I said, oh you mean my wife and kids? She responded after a long pause and expressed how disappointed she was that I was married. Her interest in me was more than flattering and I expressed that very directly. She went on to tell me that this was something that she did not want to be a part of. Naturally, I was wondering what it was that she thought she was becoming a part of. So, I asked and she replied, “You’re Married”. Well, needless to say this came as no surprise to me, but I sent a few more dichotomous texts that could be seen as playful or flirtatious. She of course chose to see them as the latter. I wished her a good evening after a few more messages.
The next day, I sent a text to her just to wish her a good start to her day after she had reportedly had a rough/busy day a few days before. The text went unrequited. This puzzled me more than I wished it to. Perhaps my character was in question on her part. Even though I had not intended our simple message transactions to go any further than playful banter. In any case, I had to get to the bottom of it. After all, my character is everything to me. So, I requested a brief conversation from her through a text message that was eventually granted. In our exchange I expressed my desire to not be misunderstood and she expressed her desire to not get involved with a married man. Again, I’m thinking… how in the Hell did we end up on the verge of an “involvement” per se? I attempted to set the record straight, but that lack of control over my mouth hanging open was fast becoming an obstacle to my desire to communicate my thoughts. She relayed to me that if she were married, she would not want her husband making random female friends without her knowledge. She said that she would have to meet any of the women he would potentially befriend. She went on to say that she was a spiritual person and her professional character meant everything to her. Now my mind is spinning out of control. I was wondering: (1) who has time to screen all of their spouse’s friends and why would you use your valuable time for these efforts as a rule? (2) Does getting married mean that you can no longer accept friendships, go to yoga, or be a decent human being to others away from the office? (3) What in the hell is being “spiritual” have to do with being friendly, talking and sharing experiences (beer, yoga, joke or the like)? (4) Does meeting your spouse’s friends establish an unseen preventative measure that prevents unethical relationships or cheating? There is such a thing as history that fails to supports this foolishness, but that’s just my point of view. If she was referring to religion, was that her little self-imposed 11th Commandment? I highlighted the fallacies that I perceived in her logic and quickly distanced myself from the subject and ended the call.
In the last 60 seconds of the conversation, I realized how rigid and convoluted her thinking was and immediately I felt a bit of remorse for her. Somehow she had become a prisoner of her own dogmatic belief system. She was truly unwavering when faced with a more balanced point of view. I imagined a person who works, goes home and spends an inordinate amount of time alone. I imagined that she meets very few people who have the time or inclination to peer through the crowded little peephole whereas on the other side, an entire world of experiences, friendship and vicarious learning exists.
Value systems are important as they help us to avoid situations whereas we could be labeled as deviant by society at large. However, some systems are convoluted as they have become infected by competing religious beliefs, molested by those with their own issues of control. The best value systems are those that allow us to be the best “Self” we can be regardless of the company we are in and allow us to live a full life with vigor and the occasional surprise along the way. These points of view are “my own” and based on my own set of values. It makes me wonder if people truly understand what it takes to be happy and if they truly know how to define happiness. I believe that happiness is a continuum with increasing degrees of greatness, but how far we travel along that continuum or spectrum is directly related to the values that define us. There are some things that are valued and other things that are truly valuable. It’s important to discern differences. I believe that we should have an ever-expanding mind, as we become addicts of learning. Whenever this is not the case… “We’re Screwed”!!!
I’m a man who wants to love a woman who has a once in a generation mind
She will challenge and love me in ways Webster cannot define
I’ll refer to her as “Baby” and adore her for a lifetime
Sexy iconic pink thorns
Shapely mahogany stems
Vicky’s satin petals stretched over a full moon
Close cropped bush providing cover for a fragrant bouquet
Laying waste to monochromatic thoughts, taking residence where she did not previously reside
My breath quickened, synchronizing with the colorful rhythm of her purposeful pace
Tenacious glances, akin to reckless deviance registering across my face
Mesmerized, minutes tiptoeing quietly by, never once achieving acknowledgment by me
Hips sashay with dangerous curves, rivaled only by the corners of a curious smile to be
Hem of her miniskirt riding high above her thighs, fluent at sarcasm and profanity
A bachelors thoughts blazoned across my mind, stretching the fabric of my own sanity
I, curious pupil aiming for honor roll status, studying unspoken words of the master teacher
With perfect pitch/diction, she rounds the corner with an over the shoulder glance…
Disappearing into my past, leaving me a spectator in my own mind’s own little aluminum bleacher