Day 140: The Anti-Social Socialite



I have determined I am socially anti-social. I like most people. And, quietly diagnose the rest. Instantaneously inspecting and segmenting out the best. Experience has taught me the importance of caution with preliminary tests.

 
When around my circle I genuinely enjoy the familiarity of completed jokes. The knowing looks across wood stained tables. I connect.

 
Yet, in solace, I am free. Here the jokes are funnier somehow. Here somewhere the looks are deeper. I am one.

 
Yep, a little more anti than social.​
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Day 135: The Underlined Reason


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There is a reason the caterpillar transitions into a cocoon before becoming a butterfly.

There is a reason little seedlings are planted after the last winter frost.

There is a reason you do not move into a home until it is complete.

In the past, I have contemplated the theoretical concept of playing dead without being dead.

Like most things, the understanding and application resonate with one’s perspective of death.

For some immobility is a form of death.

For others decimation of growth is death.

Medically speaking the loss of neurological function is death.

Ironically, this is not about death at all, but the symbolism of death’s characteristics.

I have observed, at different stages humans invoking death’s characteristics as a form of survival.

In school, we remain silent even when we know the answer out of unsupported fear of being wrong,

In relationships, we fabricate or eviscerate our feelings out of fear of losing the relationship.

In our jobs, we ride the assembly line even though we have already been assembled.

We fear the risk that does not pay off.

We fear the truth that does not reveal.

We fear the hope that does not produce.

And so, the caterpillar never becomes the butterfly

The seedling never becomes a rose.

And, the house never becomes a home.

Yet, change the perspective and the theoretical becomes the reality.

I know a king who was born a servant.

I know a servant who became a king.

I know a king who died a criminal but became an advocate.

His camouflage was a necessity to his survival.

The ruse surrounding his birth was predicated on hidden truths remaining hidden until their appointed unveiling.

It makes you wonder if he always knew who he would become.

You might even speculate if it came to him in the midnight hour.

Perhaps the helper showed him the way.

In any case, once he knew, he began to walk as he had caught the clue.

Until his payment was due.

The ideology bears witness to the theoretical supposition of the original thought.

Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

And just because you know, doesn’t mean you divulge.

Sometimes the greater victory is not in the now but in the latter.

Bridle the tongue so the mouth may speak.

If the caterpillar refused to hibernate, it would never become the butterfly.

If the seedlings were never nurtured, they would never become roses.

If the tree was never cut, the house would never become a home.

You cannot reach the finish line if you never run the race.

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Day 5: Conflicted Mourning


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This was not the intended first published piece of 2017.

I have written other works of art centered around my reflective learnings of 2016. I wrote the inspired words and set them aside. I learned this technique awhile back. Write with passion. Write with emotion. Write whatever comes forth then set it aside. Forget about the infused emotional, thoughtful, and provoking life I left on the screen. Let their fire dim. Let their virtuosity wane. Let logic overrule. Let the pain and anguish of their meaning flicker out like the last flame of a well-burnt candle.

Then and only then return to the scene. Shift through the ashes. Search out the treasures. Breathe in the remnants of what remains. Ask the only question that matters. Are the words still true? Publish, if yes. Revamp, if no.

My confliction causes me to break away, if only for tonight, from this writing ritual.

Prepared I knew. We are not a family of jesters. Sure, we joke and laugh at the appropriate times. Yet, we are planners and thinkers. He had been preparing my mother. And, my mother had been preparing us. So I knew. I was prepared.  I was aware. The signs came with each fleeting day.  I expected the call more than once. I knew what steps to take in order to be available. I held back tears with each new revelation. The diagnosis was clearer with each update. Not through what was said, but by what was withheld.

The urgency came. The call was made. The words were spoken. He’s passed away she spoke. There it is. The confliction of heart, mind, and spirit. I feel it. I cannot fully name it, but I sense it. The heart aches because his temporal presence has left. The mind is grateful the pain and confusion he experienced in his final days are over. The spirit rejoices because his soul now rests where no more harm can come to him in the form of “treatment”. I feel it all and I feel none of it. The medical attempts to save him reduced his quality of life in the final weeks, if not months, so I pray his mother and my grandmother greets him upon his arrival as her memory consoles me now.

I feel it all and I feel none of it. The medical attempts to save him reduced his quality of life in the final weeks, if not months, so I pray his mother and my grandmother greets him upon his arrival as her memory consoles me now.

For this is how I learned to express what is sometimes inexpressible. I am a stoic soul with a complex heart. It is here the emotions intersect with the logic to usher in the therapy mere condolences cannot bring. Here my gift allows me to sit in my Father’s lap. In a place, my stoic soul with a complex heart – can experience the caress that does not bend and does not break. For this was not the intended published first piece of 2017, but it was needed.

You will be missed, but not forgotten.

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Day 273: The Nuts and Bolts of Relationships


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Relationships are like nuts and bolts.

Over screwing the bolt could strip the grooves beyond repair.

Use the wrong size nut and it will not fit.

Your use of force will make or break your relationship.

There are many degrees of force.

Emotional force.

Kinetic force.

Mental force.

Physical force.

Physiological force.

Silent force.

Levels and types of force are akin to the air we breathe.

If someone hands you a 5/16 bolt do not place a ¾ nut on it.

In turn, use the socket wrench when the increased power from a handheld drill, would warp the bolt.

The things meant to us may require work, but they rarely require force.

The definition of force indicates an exertion of power greater than required to achieve the desired goal.

Find the 5/16 nut in the basket of ¾ nuts and find your true pairing.

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Confession Moment: Keeping it 100%


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I have not done one in this series for some time. Not sure if it is a matter of I have not needed to or I have not wanted to. In any respect, it does not really matter. The point is I have a confession. Not a deep dark confession, just a confession about something a friend and I have been conversing about of late.

The year is 2016. It has been a great year. I continue to reaffirm who I am with each new challenge, I find an opportunity.

Overall, I do not have many complaints. But then again, even in my darkest of hours, I rarely did.

Life is too short to spend it doing anything you do not want to do, unless, you have to do it in order to get where you want or need to be.

This particular mindset I began to harness a few years back has really supported my steps throughout 2016. I am eternally grateful for anyone and everyone who created or presented a situation where I had to challenge, defend, and sustain my personal identity of self.

With that being said, I recently entered the dating scene. Which brings me to the reason for this confession moment. I had two serious relationships in my life. Combined they span across two decades of my said life. I am not proud or ashamed of this fact. It is just a factual part of my history.

Others I have met have not been able to wrangle a few years into a single relationship, let alone a decade or two. This is not a slight or a commendation. It is just a factual part of their history.

Neither of us has a right to place judgment on the other’s choices. We do not know the other players (most of the time). We do not know what glued or severed the ties even when one of us expresses our side of our perspective lives. We just do not know, because in some cases our perspective is only as good as our knowledge on the matter {food for thought}.

But, we carry on in search of “the one” or in some cases “the ones”. Real talk, I have seen far more than I ever expected and lived far more than a part of me every wanted.  And, I have enjoyed it all.

Yet, there is a trend happening in the dating arena of 2016 that is truly blowing my mind. It is not the swapping of partners like we swap out dirty or wet socks. It is not the randomness of connectivity so many of choose to settle for in place of permanence. It is not the increase of sexually transmitted diseases for those in my age range at an alarming if not terrifying rate. If I am honest and reflectively look at history, none of these are new trends. In fact, they are a continuation of the old guard.

In fact, it is probably the number one reason so many couples actually settle or convince themselves the current one is the right one.

But a particular trend goes against my basic understanding of couplings of two individuals into one partnership. The station in-and-of-itself is not a station to be ashamed of. All of us at one time in our life have been there. But being there before instead of while during a relationship raises some serious questions about one’s priorities in life.

The station is unemployment or as the true wordsmith would say, “between jobs”. The result is the same. The station creates a situation where basic survival comes into question often, especially, in our moments of silence.. To be honest, for some of us on the other side of the line, it still comes into question every time we sit down to pay bills. But, my point is I am all for seeking joy, finding purpose, being open to whatever, or just looking for companionship. One should not be alone, unless, one chooses to be. However, being unemployed without any real source of income automatically raises the red flag.

Relationships require commitment. It is not always easy even when it is easy to let someone in or figuring someone out. For most of us, no matter how over it is with the last or how new it is to the next, we have been changed simply by the experience of someone else in our lives. I know I have.

Besides, all the emotions one experiences during a new relationship, imagine the compounding nature of such emotions with those one feels during the station of unemployment. Self-worth comes into question. Position in comparison to friends is present. The ability to provide for one’s children or family is also there. And, these are just a few of the soft internal battles hanging out in the station of unemployment.

Personally, if you do not have self together, why on Earth would you seek to bring someone else in on all that turmoil, anguish, and moments of desperation.

It is not just a matter of keeping it 100%. It is a matter of being 100%.

{Exhales}

EYHCS

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Day 185: The Offering


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I did not learn, because I took the offered advice.
Sure, I listened.
I might have even been seen taking a few notes.
Yet, the learning came from living and not just listening.

© 2016 EYHCS

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Day 184: Precious Moments


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I did not pick the planters pot.
I did not pick the seeds.
I did not determine the soil.
I did not lay the seeds in the chosen soil.
Nor did I pack the soil upon the freshly laid seeds.
I was not there for the germination stage.
I did not witness the first leaves grow.
At the time, I did not even know.
I was a little more than a small shrub back then.

The seeds became buds.
The buds fought to become flower,
Under all the April showers.
The flowers became fruit from the original root.
I felt like pollen with each passing bloom.
Or maybe the bee seen darting through the room.

I will never be the original potter.
I will never be able to recall the plants first blooms.
Yet, I do know how the plant became a tree.
I did witness the fallen leaves.
I did witness the painful struggles as one limb became two.
I did enjoy the transformation.

And, one day the trees’ seeds will create more plants with hopes of becoming bigger trees.

It is my experience with the circle of life.
Oh, what a wonderful life.

© 2016 EYHCS

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Day 183: Distinguished Mirage: Cause & Effect


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The true liar convinces self – the lie is real.
The lie becomes so real it covers the truth.
Breathing fire does not make you a firefighter.
Do not spew venom and call it a cure.
Venom is poisonous and can lead to an infection.
The antidote cures the infected.
Know the difference.
Then live it differently.
And, your life will be different.

© 2016 EYHCS

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Day 165: As A Writer – the Real Tragedy


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Year one of my blog I attempted to write daily. I was more successful at times than others.

Year two I actually managed to write almost daily for a large part of the year.

Year three, I realized, I could not make the same commitment as other bloggers and set out to post at least once a month.

Last month was the first month I missed my mark. I didn’t stop writing, I just stopped posting. I go through these periods where I want to hold on to the drops of knowledge streaming from my mine. Eventually, I release them, once I feel they have germinated long enough to sprout and bloom.

I enjoy writing. I enjoy your comments and likes I think more than I realized I would. Sometimes, we have to hold onto ourselves a little longer so we remain whole, especially, as artists.

Artists create from experience.

Artists divulge secret thoughts in their artistry.

Artists are transparently exposed to the elements of the audiences’ minds, preconceptions, and suppositions.

Some of these elements are true and others not so much.

 

What prompts me to write today is a need to release in a form I have come to find solace.

My writing rejuvenates my soul.

 

I know people are hurting today by yet another demonstration of targeted misplaced hatred.

I recognize many are searching for answers and for some those answers will never come.

I appreciate the pause the nation, if not the world, has taken to grieve the senseless loss of life.

I mourn the slain.

I pray for their families, their friends, their love ones, and the love ones they will never have.

The tragedy is tragic.

The incident deserves space in our hearts, in our minds, in our thoughts, and yes, in our conversations.

 

My issue is not with the events.

My issue is with the reaction.

 

And, for some it may seem callous.

I confess, I questioned myself.

I wondered if living in this world has desensitized me in ways I do not understand.

I wondered if my anger at what I can only classify as debilitating thinking is right.

Am I wrong for cringing when I hear a person say “they no longer feel safe”?

It is extremely difficult to stomach, when it comes from a person of faith.

 

What is this weird concept of safety? We are only as safe as the intentions and dedication of someone else to harm us or themselves. Of course, there are things we can do to mitigate the threats to our safety, but living means we all live with a certain level of uncertainty. It’s called life. We seem to love creating boogeymen so we have a reason to raise our voices and be heard. Or close our doors and not be seen. Pick your prison!

“I’m screaming inside, because it would be impolite and disruptive to do so on the outside, “Hello, who do we put our trust in?” “What world do you live in?” “How can you proclaim power and cower every time darkness breaches the ‘Circle of Life”?”

As a writer, words build bridges.

As a writer, words tear down walls.

As a writer, words lift up dreams.

As a writer, words silence nightmares.

As a writer, words speak for the mute.

As a writer, words invoke change.

As a writer, words are eternally hopeful.

 

I guess what I’m saying is the situation in Orlando, in our nation, in our universe can breathe darkness in the shallowly places of our lands. In these times, we often lament about the incident long enough to allow time to pass before the next great tragedy. I am not here to take away someone else’s method of coping. If this is how one needs to cope, cope on.

 

I simply find myself frustrated with the lack of depth of our arguments, of our comments, or our display of power the size of a toothpick in an EF5 tornado.

 

Deeply Sadden and Frustrated,

 

EYHCS

 

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Day 97: Social Media Relationship Status


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A Lifetime Ago

My social media relationship status unless married or maybe engaged is like your time of death. Unknown by everyone except God and the Angel(s) sent to see you through.

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Rejuvenation: The Power & Potential of a Young Mind


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I had an awesome, funny, and very telling conversation about the future of our society with my 14-year old nephew this evening. We were talking about the STAAR test he took this past Monday. He held strong opinions about the subject matter of his essay questions.

Him: They had stupid topics. It was just so frustrating.

Me: What were the topics?

Him: What is friendship? And, what is courage beyond courage?

Me: (Reserving all opinions based on my own experiences. He’s 14 and still learning these concepts.) Why are they stupid topics?

Him: “Because you have to be literal.” They don’t want you to be conceptual.

Me: (Laughing hysterically on the inside and outside, because he says what I am thinking. At 14, these concepts are so limited by age and experience.) So, what is friendship to you?

Him: Bonding and honesty. I mean, we were friends last year and we’re still friends. I play Xbox at your house sometimes and we have sleepovers.

Me: Well, at your age I imagine that is friendship. You will view it differently 15 years from now, but today, “that’s a great answer”.

Him: Why didn’t they ask about immigration or something? “That’s a real topic I could have written six paragraphs about.

Me: (So proud, he’s thinking! And, that’s more than I can say for a lot of adults.)

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