Backwards

Have you ever had to do something that you really didn’t want to do?  Something stupid, like doing the dishes, or writing a paper, or putting away all the laundry you just did?  Then you know how you make it into such a big deal in your head, blow it way out of proportion.  By the time you’ve finished, you’d rather walk barefoot across a bed of hot coals than do whatever it is that you don’t want to do.  (We’ve all been there, don’t deny it.)

But—no matter how long you put it off—you still have to do it sometime.  So, when you can’t find a single fork, or your paper is due the next morning, or you can’t get to your bed because all the laundry is in the way, you finally give in.  You do it.  It sucks.  And then it’s over.

You look back, and you realize that it really wasn’t all that bad to begin with.  Then you feel ridiculous for making such a big deal about it.  You resolve that this is a secret you will take to your grave.  You have learned your lesson; you will never be so silly about something ever again.

A day passes, or a week, maybe even a little more.  The dishes are dirty again, you have another paper, you can’t find a single pair of socks to wear.  Guess what you do all over again?

Us people, are silly, backwards creatures, aren’t we? 

(‘Of course not, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I would never do something so ridiculous.’

‘Friend, don’t even lie.’)

—The Shadow Knight

A Change In Perspective

            Have you ever re-read a book that you read once or twice years ago?  If you have, then you know how peculiar it is because you have a completely different perspective.  Things that before caught you off guard—even though you completely forgot how the story went—become easily predictable.  The most inspiring phrase you ever heard becomes cliché.  The character you thought so brilliant now seems immature and shallow.

            You realize this, and then you wonder what else has changed.  You wonder if you would even recognize the old you, if you bumped into him on the street.  You wonder what that you would have thought about who you are now; if you would’ve been surprised, proud, skeptical, or maybe just plain revolted.

            You realize how little you remember your old self, and it catches you completely off guard.  Then you wonder if the bits you remember are like the book, if you would see them differently now.  It’s strange and disorienting, especially when you realize that the bits you remember best are the things you’re most ashamed of.  You start to wonder if that’s all there ever was.

            Then you realize that someday that’s how you shall remember who you are now.  It blows your mind.  It’s sad.  But, that’s also what assures you that there was more to you than you remember.  It stands to reason, being as you know you shan’t remember everything about who you are now.  It—like so much in life—is bittersweet.  You wish you could remember, and you’re glad you can’t.  It’s complicated.

            That’s why so many people keep diaries, journals, blogs.  There are other reasons of course, but this is one of the primary ones.  You don’t want to forget.  You know you are who you are because of what you have gone through.  You don’t want to forget how you got here.  You want to remember the small joys, the things that made you so happy.  You want to remember why you felt so sad.  You want to remember the journey, because how else can you ever know who you are?

            Sometimes, you look back so much that you forget to look forward.  You become trapped in old pains, in weaknesses you think you cannot overcome.  Then something happens, and you realize you have to let go.  You have to remember, but you also have to keep moving.  If you don’t, you’ll look back someday and wish you hadn’t let life pass you by.

            The same thing can happen for the opposite reason.  You can forget to look around, because you’re so focused on what lies ahead.  You’re excited, or you’re planning.  All you can think about is then, and you forget about now.  Or you can forget about the future, forget to plan and forget to dream.  Then you realize you don’t know what you’re doing.  You don’t know where you want to go, so can you ever find your way?

            The trouble is keeping all three in balance.  You know what you need to do, to live in the present, be guided by the past, and aim towards the future, but that—like so much else—is so much easier said than done.  I suppose, if it weren’t, life would be like that book.  You might gain a different perspective, but you would never be able to change its course.  I don’t know about you, but I'm glad it’s not like that.

            —The Shadow Knight

Find Your Strength

            Sometimes, it feels like life is passing us by, like we blink and we’ve missed it.  Other times it seems like we’re stuck, and no matter what we do we can’t get out of a situation.  Sometimes, we get so used to patterns that they become cages.  Sometimes we let our minds turn things that we’re not good at into things we can’t do.  I know I do that last one a lot.

            Each of us are good at some things and bad at others.  That’s a given.  The problem is when we start believing that because we’re not good at something, or it isn’t easy, we shouldn’t try.  I realized this once again this past week.  I'm good with words, that’s my strength.  Writing comes naturally to me, it’s easy and it’s simple, and it’s what I'm good at.

            I'm not so good at sports, I never have been.  I used to get frustrated when I'd watch someone pick up a ball/puck/bat/etc. for the first time, and instantly be good at it, while I had to work at it long and hard, and I still usually wouldn’t be as good.  So, I went in other directions, did things I was better at; and I was ok with that.

            Last week, some of my friends were playing volleyball, and I felt the odd compulsion to join them.  So, I did, and I was bad at it.  But, as the week progressed, and I played more, I started getting better, I'm still awful, and that’s ok.  But, that’s not the point.  This week, I learned to do a backflip.  It was really difficult, and every time I hit the water wrong, it hurt.  But, when I finally got it right, I found that it was all worth it.  I had done something that I never would have thought possible, and it was amazing.

            I'm trying not to limit myself anymore, because—doing that—I've missed out on so much.  I look back, and I wonder what I was thinking.  But, that doesn’t matter.  What does matter is that we can do the things that challenge us, and the things we’re not good at, because they make us stronger.  We talk about wanting to be free.  We get angry when people or governments try to take away our freedom, but strongest prisons are the ones we build ourselves.

            There was this movie I watched a couple times as a kid, the main line was “Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”  This week, I remembered that.  I challenge you to do the same.  Find something you’re not good at, something you tell yourself you can’t do, and go do it.  It’s ok if you mess up, if you get frustrated, if it takes you longer than everyone else.  You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to be the best, you just have to do it.  I promise you, the pride and confidence you get from overcoming your fear of failure is more than worth the cost.

            –The Shadow Knight

The End is the Beginning...But it Hurts Nonetheless

            When something good is over, it sometimes is unspeakably sad.  Usually, it needs to be finished, it’s time to move on.  But, that doesn’t change the fact that part of you came from it, and that—at least in part—it will be missed.  Some things are missed only shortly, and after a few days you find yourself completely over it.  But there are other things, and these things leave an ache behind.  You want them to come back, to last a little longer.  You know you won’t be back, and it hurts.

            The worst part is when there are people you care about, people you love.  You know that the odds are heavily against you ever seeing them again.  Maybe some of them, you’ll remain close to; you’ll do things together, and stay in touch.  But most—while they have touched you deeply in one way or another—you will never see again.

            Even in this day and age, with the internet connecting everyone, it just isn’t the same.  People who you have the strongest friendship with, you grow apart from.  You still love them.  They’re still your friends.  But, you just don’t talk to them much, if at all.  That’s just the way it is.

            When you’ve been truly happy someplace, and learned a lot from it, those places are the hardest to leave.  You don’t want to let go—of that place or those people—because you know that you belong, and you know sometimes that it shouldn’t be over, not yet.  Those times are the hardest.  Goodbye is the hardest word, either to say or to hear.

            The uncertainty is almost as hard as the ending.  You know that something new will come, but you don’t know what.  You never know what it will be like, if it will even begin to fill the emptiness that the old thing left behind.  You worry, and you’re a little scared.  We’re always scared of what we don’t know.

            The other uncertainty is the one about your friends.  You know you want to stay in touch, to keep your friendship alive.  With some, you know that won’t happen.  It’s sad, but it’s ok; those people were amazing and you love them, but they’re only a little of who you are, and memory is enough.  But then there are the people who are so much a part of you that you don’t know who you would be without them, and you don’t want to find out.  Those are the people who know your secrets, your fears, your strengths, maybe not all of them, but enough.

            You love them.  Plain and simple.  Those people are the ones who might as well be family.  The people you’d do anything to protect.  You’re terrified of losing them, because you know how often that happens, how easy it is.  Sometimes, that fear is enough to keep it from happening…and sometimes not.  Either way, it hurts.  But, that’s the cost of love; and it’s worth it.  Always.

            I heard a great quote the other day; I can’t remember it exactly, but it was something like this,

“Family is not those with whom you share your blood, but rather those for whom you would shed your blood.”  I believe it was from a Hannibal Lecter film, but I’m not sure.  Whatever the source, the point remains.  There are many I would call my family, many for whom I would gladly shed my blood.  I don’t want to lose them.  I’m afraid I might, at least a few of them.

–The Shadow Knight

The Beauty of It

            Have you ever had that feeling where you want to write something: a poem, story, anything really?  Have you ever had it when you can’t think of anything whatsoever to write?

            If you have, you’ll recall how it feels to stare at a blank sheet of paper, waiting.  When you’re full of motivation, if you could only find something to write about.  How seconds turn to minutes as you sit there.  How the minutes drag by, far slower than you ever thought possible.  How frustrated you get when nothing comes to you.

            The things that usually inspire you are utterly useless.  The spark of an idea refuses to light.  Sometimes, you even wonder why you ever thought you could write to begin with.  Or worse, you wonder if you ever will again.

            The thing is—whether or not it happens that day, or even that week or month—you will write again, because that’s what you do, what you are.  You’re a writer.  Something deep inside of you yearns to put to words the thrill of adventure, the elation of love, the pain of the most profound sorrow.  Like breathing, it’s in your nature.

            And that’s the beauty of it.

            -The Shadow Knight

The Great Secret

I have to stay.

I cannot go.

My mind says yes.

My heart says no.

I’m needed here.

I need to leave.

The siren calls.

Roads sing my name.

My blood runs hot.

I scream with pain.

A single tear runs down my cheek.

A heartbeat pulse throbs its beat.

In my heart I feel a yearning.

Open roads and ever turning.

My world keeps spinning out of control.

It’s as if I’m falling a rabbit-hole.

It’s falling, and darkness, and sickness, and cold.

It’s fear, and it’s shame, and it’s ever alone.

At last, I can leave.

I’ve opened the door.

Soft rain is shining.

Light patters on floor.

That moment is perfect.

I hear the sweet song.

I have been waiting for so very long.

I’m one step away from all that I’ve dreamed of.

One breath away from heaven’s gate.

In one bright moment all is made clear.

The road’s just a road, and my home is here.

Laughing my eyes and smiling my step.

I turn my back on what I’d thought best.

There is a great secret.

I now know its answer.

Home is where the heart is.

Heart is where you put it.

      -The Shadow Knight

Shattered Patterns

What if I want to die?

What if life holds no appeal?

What if I dance to the siren song of death?

What if I hunger for the stillness?

What if I thirst for silence?

At least then I know my place.

At least then I know my end.

At least then they understand.

I’m just another nameless face.

I’m just another empty death.

I’m just another teenage tragedy.

I’m just another foolish child

With just another grieving family.

Folks will say they’re sorry.

Folks will say that it’s so sad.

Folks will try to care,

But, folks won’t.

It’s a simple pattern.

It’s a story often told.

It’s so sad.

It’s the way of the world.

But,

What if I want to live?

     -The Shadow Knight