Never Too Late
"When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this — you haven't." – Thomas A. EdisonArchive for April, 2009
Dream home
Every day, on my commute home, I pass a house. Two stories, fairly new. Light-colored masonery/brick, skylights, and a light-colored interior, from what I can tell.
I’ve never been in this house before. Pass it five days a week.
Yet, I’ve been in it.
I’ve had several dreams about a house–light-colored, lots of glass and skylights, modern yet tacky statues and decor. From what I can tell as I zoom by in my waking life, that house matches the house in my dreams.
Why this house? I don’t know. The dreams are nondescript, except for the house.
Why this house?
Taxing times
I own a Mac, and I don’t own it because I want to be cool. I want a computer that when I turn it on, it works, and like most things with Apple, they do work. But a downside of the experience is the “Mac Tax”, the premium you (supposedly) have to pay over the price of another (cheaper) computer. It’s a tax I don’t mind paying–it’s worth it for a quality machine.
We all have to pay taxes of some sort (unless you live in Monaco), and most of us would rather not, or cut our tax bill. But what if you paid a tax, and was happy about it?
I was reading this post from Lori (thanks much!), and in the comments she wrote something that caught my eye–”optimism tax.” From a friend of hers, it’s what you need to pay sometimes to hold onto your belief in people. Here’s the origin of the idea. And here’s the takeaway quote…
I sporadically pay this fee (when people take advantage of my trust in goodness) in exchange for optimistic freedom.
If there is someone, or something, you believe in, what price are you willing to pay to keep that belief? Are you courageous enough to keep paying the bill when it comes due? Sometimes that bill may come in the form of a loud argument. Or complete silence.
If you believe in someone, and that belief isn’t quite returned, then what? I’m at the point in my life where if I meet someone whom I believe is special, I’m not going to abandon them. Being an introvert, I want to–have to–show I care in different ways, though it may not be returned. I’m willing to pay the tax because I believe. I’m willing to pay the tax because I have to fight keep my heart open in spite of disappointment.
I guess I’m feeling this way because I put my foot down and said I’m not allowing certain people out of my life. The ways that they are present with and in me may not be perfect. But as Salvador Dali said–Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.
Freedom has a price, so they say. And the price is the optimism tax. I have to pay the tax to keep people in my life. People I care about, people I love. I’m willing to pay the tax because I want these people in my life and I want to keep them there. Somehow, some way.
Of all the days
When…
There’s a swine flu epidemic
An earthquake at the heart of said epidemic.
A military plane buzzing New York–unannounced.
It feels like the world is becoming ever so unhinged.
What do you do?
Breathe in, and breathe out. Seriously, it helps.
Unknown unknowns
I have no idea who he is–I’m assuming he’s a he–but I like his observations on introverts. This is well worth a read, especially for extroverts.
Millennia
In a million years, I don’t wish to be anyone else but me. It’s not easy, true, but it’s more fun than being a cypher, being fake.
Hold on
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been told to let go and to move on. Let people go. Move on from your emotions. Frankly, I’m bored with it. There are people and emotions I don’t want to let go of, see wither away and die. I want them with me. Sometimes, I can’t have it the way I want–we can’t always have things the way we want. So that calls for two hole cards the mind has–creativity and imagination. For me, it’s this–I’m not running people out of my heart and out of my life, especially if they are in my heart.
I am whole. I am going to remain so, for me and for others.
So yes, I am holding on.
Seeing differently//cuppa joe
I love the Economist–I think it’s one of the best-edited and written magazines out there. I was reading a short story today on how other magazines try, but aren’t able to, copy their very successful ways, and one of the descriptions caught my eye. The way the writer compares the Economist and other magazines is instructive–What kind of coffee do you what to be? Ubiquitous or unique? I prefer the latter, even if it might seem a little out there. The point to the exercise is you have to envision yourself a little differently….
The Economist is like that exotic coffee that comes from beans that have been eaten and shat out undigested by an Indonesian civet cat, and Time and Newsweek are like Starbucks—millions of people enjoy them, but it’s not a point of pride.
TFTD
I know a lot of cats who would still be alive or free if they had shed some tears….get it out… pause ,regroup and way your options
MC Hammer (yes, that one. Follow him on Twitter)
Tying a ribbon
Even Though April’s not over yet, we’ll tie a ribbon on Poetry Month–for now. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop writing it, it means I can write it as I feel it.
Sweet silence
The cacophony of the TV
The static of the radio
All switched off
I hear nothing
But the breath I draw
And the steady beat
Of my rolling heart
Freespace
Let’s take a random walk through the universe of my head…
Improvising
Sometimes in life you have to challenges perceptions of what is truly right and truly wrong. Is your way right? Is my way right?
Men often get blamed for screwing up relationships–and rightly so. But what if we get it right, and still fail?
I really enjoyed my weekend.
Sometimes I wonder if my heart is too strong.
I know how I want to be treated–and how I don’t.
Been thinking a lot about introverts lately–I am one, and proudly so. I process and see the world differently. I’m not a social outcast because I am quieter and my drives tend to be internal. I have to work harder to achieve my aims. Hard work is its own reward.
My Achilles heel is that I’m stubborn, relentless and persistent. My strengths are that I’m stubborn, relentless and persistent. I just don’t have fireworks shooting out of my ass to signify it.
I love holidays.
I am worthy.
I am compassionate, and that compassion takes many forms.
I think, being a black male, that the usual societal notions of what I should be are nonsense. I don’t want to be like everyone else. Can you imagine how boring that would be? I would just want to sleep in all day if that’s the case.
While I understand who I am, I seem to keep growing and learning. I want that to continue. Even trees don’t stand still.
I remain in love with someone who doesn’t love me. Insane? No. What I feel for her is like a meditation. I’m sitting, standing, going about my daily life, not forcing myself to do anything or feel anything differently. And she remains in me. It’s kind of sad, yes. But very invigorating at the same time because of the naturalness of it. It is one of the greatest feelings. No, the love isn’t returned in the way I’d like. But what she has engendered in me continues to feel good.
A friend of mine said men are weird. Hmmmm…
A question that came up a lot over a weekend of dinners, drinks and conversation–what is more important: friendships or relationships?
I love being an introvert, because I gather so many ideas from sources that aren’t as obvious on first blush.
Western society is geared to acting. Ok, cool. It needs to be geared to thinking, too.
I’ve traveled to a few countries in my life. I’m not being jingoistic when I say I’m glad to be American. I feel like I have more options and more opportunities here than other countries. Not saying that I wouldn’t live elsewhere–I would. But being American can open some doors.
Someone once accused me of hiding behind my blog. Huh? Sorry, but no–this is a public blog. You don’t need a password to read it–though you do need to know who I am. This is public. Go back to the passage above on love. Hiding? You know by reading that that’s there is someone in this world of six billion people that I love someone. It’s out there, the most intimate piece of my heart is there in the open.
The lessons I learn in life I want to build on. The lessons I teach others I want to build on. The lessons I see other teach (good and bad) I want to be conscious of.
Coffee and writing–a good combination.
There is a book called Envy of the World–Being a Black Man in America. Read it. Go here, scroll down, read the book intro. As you read it, you are reading me. Read what I have to overcome. What I must be.
Reading a special package from Foreign Policy magazine, this quote caught my eye…Otto von Bismarck observed that God favors fools, drunkards, and the United States of America.
TFTD
“Successful people don’t care too much for reality; it just gets in the way and slows them down.”
Two things
Though silence separates us
Though our hearts are not together
Two things I’ll never do
I won’t disconnect my heart
And I won’t turn my back on you
Ah yes…
Sometimes in life, and in writing, you misfire. And the poem below is a misfire. It’s ok, as these things go, but I’ve written better. Usually when I write poetry, I can usually rip a good one off in about five-10 minutes and be happy with it. But the “system Check” below I pondered for a couple of days, and must admit it wasn’t my best effort.
But tomorrow is another day.
System check
When the morning comes
The brain restarts
Making sure that all systems
Are a go
All the lights turn green
Giving the go-ahead
For the day to come
The house
On the corner of the highway
And cars and trucks zoom by
Sits a house, nondescript
Drivers pass it, not noticing
I pass it, and the picture stays
A house on the corner
Sitting proudly
In its beautiful modesty
How jealous I am
Of those who own it
How they can sit outside
And look at God’s creation
Of a glorious valley rolling down
And up into mountains of blue
That spread along the horizon
Interlude
We are all guilty of being judging books by covers. Thank goodness for people like Susan Boyle, who makes us feel silly for being as shallow as we can sometimes be.
Morning song
A jazzy piano riff
A blaring trumpet
The lilting notes of songbirds
What a beautiful way to wake up
Or go to sleep
TFTD
Even if I can’t give everything I want, I can give what I can, the best way I can.
–chehaw
Straying from the theme
But I have to point out this article on how an introvert made a career. It’s worth reading to understand how we operate…
Not a poem//like a rock
Just a thought…
Why doesn’t seem like everybody’s going nuts at the same time? Why?
Sometimes, it seems like I am the last sane person on the planet.
Everybody tears their hair out, I have to say no when people want me to say yes, and there I sit, quietly, solidly–like a rock. Steady
Match game
The rhythm of the rain
Falling down outside
Matches the rhythm
Of the beating of my heart
Reminder
Spring reminds us
That what blooms now
Must be constantly cultivated
As nature grows
So do we humans
We must always grow
Or we shall wither away
Status report
The poetry is going well. It’s making me think and look at life and myself differently. I see and process the world around me differently anyway, being an introvert. I think that way adds a depth, a richness to my life and the ways I approach it.
(Side note–yes, I am an introvert. It does not, repeat DOES NOT, mean there is something wrong with me. If there is any danger in being such, it’s that we can be perceived as arrogant and cold. It is something we have to fight to overcome. And that’s cool.)
(One note. I am capable of doing things that people don’t want me to do. But instead of those things being bad, I believe they are good. They are–caring very, very deeply for someone. And I still do.)
Back to the poetry…
One from many
One life
One body
One vessel
But how many journeys
Can the vessel hold?
Each experience
Each interaction
Contains a journey
To shape and to mold
One life
One body
One vessel
The vessel can hold
As many journeys
As it seeks and finds
Built to last
Fads and fashions change
Technology rolls in the blink of a eye
But what lasts?
Look outside
See the rain falling
Onto the green grass
Watch the trees sprout buds
See the mountains
In the distance
And you’ll figure out
What really lasts
Swing thing
Swing after swing
Drive after drive
The club strikes the ball
And slices through the air
Lessons on the driving range
Come as the ball
Slices
And hooks
And flies straight
The paths of life
Don’t always go straight
But you take another ball
From the bucket
And keep swinging
A quick dash
The crocuses
And green shoots
Of the springtime
Got an unexpected visit
From the flurries of old man winter
Droplets
The night rain falls
Upon the spring ground
Green shoots pop up
Looking for nourishment
As they find it
They continue the march
To the starry heavens
Pure energy
The energy I feel
The energy that vibrates
Inside of me
What can I do with it
To keep it alive?
Maybe nothing
But let it flow
And let all know
The energy continues
To pulse inside me
Rediscovery
Again I went to the place
In my dreams
Where I found myself
On a sunny day
Rediscovering a friend
Once long-lost
And now found again
They say dreams can point the way
It’s the getting there
That is the interesting part
At the moment
I stop and consider
Where I am at the moment
And I like the place I am
It’s not a perfect place
But it remains a whole place
At the moment
It is fine
Not a poem
Just a thought.
In life, as they say in the South, you have to take the sugar with the shit. There is no denying that in life, both exist. The level of naivete to deny both is stupendously frightening. The question of life is–maybe–how to navigate through and among the sugar and the shit. And come out smelling like a rose.
Refresh
Every so often
A fallow period hits
When I can’t write
And that is fine
I don’t worry about inspiration
Because the will to write
Always returns
Menagerie
It never ceases
To amaze me
The breadth and depth
Of the tableau
That is humanity
37
Strong/Quiet/Controlled
Passionate/Sober/Even-Keeled
Emotional/Funny/Goofy
Stoic/Sexy/Spontaneous
Deep/Still/Moving
Poetic/Humble/Smiling
Cool/Happy/Helpful
Peaceful/Caring/Friendly
Creative/Supple/Searching
Loving/Trying/Open
Thinking/Writing/Evolving
Exploring/Doing/Being
Me
Page turner
The important thing
To remember
Is that no matter
What page the calendar turns
The heart and the soul
Remain young and vibrant
Interlude
A light wind
My heart beats as strongly
As the wind blows outside
Why bury my soul
Never to see light
Why not let it out
And feel the breeze
Wholeness
Yes, on occasion
I’ll have a cheeseburger (or two)
Or a soda
Or some fries
But my palette returns
To an apple
And some salmon
And some tea (green)
The foods I choose
Are whole ones
To mirror the whole
That is me
Morning veil
The darkness lifts
To reveal a veil
Lights will pierce the film
Showing the road ahead
The road to a better today
Becoming
What will become
Of my poetry
I don’t really worry
What will become
Of me
I hope to be
Better of mind
And of soul
After the experiment
