The Return of Motivation

 After a momentary standing self imposed break, a self exile, from the intellectual pursuit of thought and reason, and commenting, ruminating, and expanding my understanding, before attempting to compile my thoughts here for myself and possibly others to digest and integrate, I found myself suddenly lacking any true motivation to return to form, and create either here or in the realms of my pursuit of fictitious works, the old millstone of mental and emotional blockage once more dragging my head down, and crushing my heart, sapping any and all inspiration and motivation (I use NOT the term "Muse" for a most pointed reason) to even bother making notes for later, as a dark small voice snarling at me that even if I were to try and preserve even the outline of a possible inspired thought, I would simply never take it up again, leaving it a scrap on some page or a collection of wasted bytes on some device, forgotten and misplaced for the next decade or two, as so many others have become over the years.

Fool that I can be, I listened to that voice, not truly hearing it, not really paying any mind to it, just accepting the hint it drilled slow but sure into the back of my soul... Until I realized it sounded strangely like her voice, as if some edited and spliced sound file had been downloaded onto my metaphoric eardrums and set to repeat its false message from her, sent from beyond the grave of our relationship, a parting shot hidden, embedded in one of the last emails she so spitefully sent with such cold and emotionless detachment.

It was then I racked myself, cell to mote, atom to thought, hair to marrow, emotion to choice, unto action.

It would not do for my progress and healing to be so derailed and nullified as to allow the end result and person at the center of ten years of my life to further live rent free in my headspace and dump into my heart (without beneficial end no less), nor would it do for this to make a mockery of my goal to not only be well shed of such an encumbering weight, dead and useless, but to thrive less in spite of and more because of its removal from my person, to once more embrace not only the ideal of freedom, but to live it out as best I can in the way I find it with all the clarity I might manage.

Yet even I, refuse to ignore the lingering effects such a burden, noble it might have been at the time (the likely false pretenses not withstanding) still have on me, even now. The trick, I think, is turning such things into lessons, forge them into, tools for myself, fuel even, for the motivation I was now gasping for like an orgasm denied at the fingers and lips of a maniacal mistress.

As is my base nature, I finally took matters into my own hands, and wielding humorous irony, and the personal benediction to move forward at any cost, started pushing myself, even through the facebook reminders of the anniversary of the start of the worst 3 years of my life, only now barely behind me, looming big and ugly in my rearview mirror, I reminded myself, the punchline from a sermon taught to me by a beloved mentor some 20 years pryor, "Don't play with dead things, keep them buried and were they belong." 

It was then, the point finally, after germinating for 20 years, came to me and bore fruit: This is what makes sacrifice worthwhile; moving beyond it, and what lead you to it, not repeating and rehashing and replaying everything that brought you to that alter, blade in hand, incense staining your feet, tears in your eyes, and anguish in your chest. Make not cheap the calories burned, the sweat dropped, the work performed, the time or money spent, or even the blood shed, by ignoring where that sacrifice has brought you, which is beyond that impasse that should have by rights, stopped you, broken you, killed you, ended your story.

Be it metaphor, or practical, spiritual or mental, singular or all of the above, do not let yourself be distracted from the now, nor the future, because sacrifice brings you forward, so that you may continue, that you may achieve, that you may live, so take up your tools, be it a pen, a sword, a hammer, a brush, take up your life, take up your mind, and engorge it with motivation, paint it in hope, temper it with resolve, pick your poison, and laugh as you grind away at that obstacle, even if it so happens to be yourself, burn away the debris of a failed past, and embrace the future, be the change you need to be, cast your eyes forward, and prick your ears to now, plan, work, grow, survive, thrive, persevere, adapt, improvise, overcome and by god endure.

In the end, no matter what efforts taken by whom, it is only yourself who can actually stop you, blaming someone else for your reticence neither proves nor solves anything, and may actually cripple you further.

Keep your head down, your eyes up, your feet moving, and keep on swinging, because after all, you're only ever beaten, when you quit.

Now get out there and fucking DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT...

~Mac 

The duality of Hope

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

- E. Dickinson

Hope is the thing that sits on the back of the shelf-
Not alone nor forgotten-

Set aside for some later time when it will become better-

Used as faith instead.
Juxtaposed to the things found in your hands-

Alive rather than not.

Till one sees it behind some faded memory-

Both realized as rotten.
The dismay and regret color the scent of the sound-

Now that it's dead.

Now how could it be you did this to me-

And gave me only naught?

C. McConnell

Hope, is a wonderous and useful thing, and the death of it grieves the soul, yet it is also the thing that can bind us from taking the steps that are most necessary to move forward, holding out the hope that things can't get worse, or that they can or should get better, will stop one from taking action to actually fix or change the circumstances that are leading to destruction, just as that same hope can provoke action to put good into the world, or even just ones own life.

The secret to hope, is to foster it when it is all you have, and to bind it up when you have other options, but it is knowing which is the case, that is the most difficult to discern. Thus far I myself can only conclude that time and experience will guide you in learning how to figure that out, if only because it is how I have had to learn it, and if you are able to do so in another, less costly way, then you are a better person than I.

Remaining True to Self

Without delving into likely pointless commentary upon the subject of the current socio-political and cultural status of American Society, and abstaining (for now) from sharing my assuredly polarizing and characteristically scathing observations on such, I instead once more turn inwardly, as is the nature of this blog, and unpack further my thoughts upon self, and the necessary elements of holding myself to a set of standards, what that has entailed and required thus far, and what I expect it to warrant in the future.

By holding myself to a standard, a personal ethic, a code of conduct as it were, I must continually review and reflect upon my behaviour, sometimes in great detail, and in no place do I find greater resolution for such things than with the review and appraisal of relationships, from this, the estimated health and status of relationships, I am able to compare and contrast myself against both others, and of course, myself. Learning from history, allows us to avoid repeating it, at least in theory, if not always (rarely more like) in practice. History may, or may not repeat, but it does make a damnable effort to rhyme, and we as humans, can't help but partake in this symmetry, too many times as passengers, rather than conductors. I for one, aim to change that about myself.

When a relationship ends, in particular when it ends badly, it is laughably, frighteningly easy to fall into one of two distinct but closely related mindsets, both of which sit on the fringe edges of a brutally narrow and exacting continuum within one's own psyche.

The first, is to fall into the role of the victim, and then accuser, to lay the blame at the feet of the other party, to put the bulk of the burden of responsibility upon them, to call them abusive, manipulative, selfish, monstrous in any and/or all ways, to paint a picture of your own weakness as the fulcrum upon which they acted upon, to leverage you into a bad situation, with intent and by design, because doing so allows you to take just a small part of the blame, so as not to open yourself up to proper and fair criticism, thereby insulating yourself from the uncomfortable process of revealing questions directed just a tad too close to yourself and your center, and the truth of the matter that you were, naive or aware or in good faith or in poor desperation, not only a participant, but co-author of the tale of the relationship.

The second, and just as likely, is to fall into the role of the self-aware wretch, and then oppressor, to take the blame upon yourself fully, absolving the other person of any real blame, and to then disparage yourself, bemoaning how terrible and broken you are, decrying your actions and choices with thin explanations, and tales of how twisted and odd you are, and how past inputs have warped you, an already suspect personality, into some vapid and gnarled shade of a person, turning your own shortcomings and weaknesses into the fangs and talons by which you rend and mutilate your way through other personalities, how you are a living repository of venom, poisoning the pure or at least mostly wholesome people you attach yourself too, because, frankly you can't help yourself, and even if you could, you wouldn't want to anyways, and as such, it is only your fault, and not that of the poor fool you wrecked because they were too kind or innocent to get the hell outta your way as you cast chaos and despair across the land, because after all, that allows you to shun total responsibility for your choices, and to not even bother calling into question your own judgement, and it allows you a refrain from pointing out the other person's involvement and responsibility in the relationship.

While both start from a point of reflection, and possibly even a desire to understand the why, they are both terribly narrow, incomplete and unhealthily warped parts of a whole, taken to such extremes as to be utterly useless and hazardous to ones own mental health, growth and wellbeing. I would hope I do not need to expand upon the clear and present dangers such things present to ones own growth, health and development.

In truth, until one can look at a past relationship with the clarity and equity and dare I say, objectiveness to understand that, to borrow a phrase, "it takes two to tango" then the previously stated pitfalls are seemingly inevitable and possibly inescapable, and as such, a feedback loop of detriment will be established, drowning out other possible processes until something internal changes to break or at least alter the cycle.

I humbly posit that until one can have both of the previously explained perspectives, one after the other, if not simultaneously, and then from them, attain a broader, and more fair third perspective, there will come a point where true personal growth is stunted and extinguished.

You are both victim and aggressor, you ARE an active participant in every relationship you have, even by not making a choice, you are choosing, you are not absolved of your responsibility based upon your part played, and by accepting that you are not innocent, you can find the strength and clarity to forgive both yourself, and the other person, which is a freeing process, because that is truly what forgiveness is about; freedom to choose, freedom to heal, and finally, freedom to grow.

By taking this all into account, I believe that one is able to be true to self, by accepting the responsibility of growth, and all of the prerequisites it mandates, you are in fact aiming at the highest good for yourself, and this allows you to aim for the highest good on behalf of others, this empowers you to put good into the world, by setting yourself in order (in some form or fashion) or at least, by pointing yourself towards it, it allows you to challenge not only yourself, but the surrounding order of things, and hopefully for the better, and as such, I think FAILING to do as such, leads rather much to the opposite effect and impact upon self and the world around you.

If I am to remain true to myself, then I must stand against being changed and formed by the outside world, notably for the worse, while taking lessons and examples from the same, to change for the better, if it is at all possible, as it is a core part of that elemental grit, that borderline defiance that has always been a foundational part of me, that stubborness in me that refuses to be broken by others, no matter how deep the cut, how powerful the blow, how pointed the words, or how caustic the accusations.

This all of course hinges upon the understanding, that there are in fact flaws and shortcomings within myself that I should strive to understand, downplay, and above all, remedy, by whatever means I can, even while reinforcing the positive and directing the neutral parts of myself, into something better.

It is a never ending struggle, but accepting that, and accepting the process, allows me a freedom to forge the mindset that I should in fact try, and even endure to see some kind of positive change, so long as I never try to cheat myself by taking the cowards way out. I pride myself on not being a coward. foolish or ignorant I may well be, I do attempt to widen my gaze, and broaden my understanding,  now more than ever, having realized that I have at far to many times in the past, taken whatever information and/or knowledge I have, and left it alone, believing it was sufficient and not realizing that it is dynamic rather than static, as few things are set in stone, so to speak, and the things that are, well, that is a tangent for another time...

I close with this observation; difficult as it was for me to accept the terms and circumstances of my divorce, and the end of a ten year relationship with what was, for a long season, my best friend, and my most treasured lover, I can say now, roughly a year after the finalization of the divorce, and the end of communication between myself and her some time later, that I had both of the above mentioned mindsets, I thought of her as a heartless monster, a selfish coward, a user, an exploiter, a liar, and I thought of myself as the monster, the voracious manipulator, the too oft passive fool, and all points in between, and then I happened upon the third and I think more healthy perspective: we were both young, dumb, and very possibly, deep in love, blinded to one another's weaknesses, and later desensitized to each other's strengths, we started strong, but we both became complacent, and did not always do the work of maintaining our relationship, because it felt so easy and natural, to the point that when our deeper hurts started manifesting problems, and other challenges compiled upon us, in conjunction with life and it's inherent challenges, and constant changes, put up a hill to steep for our now anemic relationship. And it was both of our faults. We both pulled away when we should not have, we both became cowardly when we needed to be bold, and we both blamed the other unfairly, without first holding ourselves to account first, and as such, we both blamed the other without recourse or mercy.

The only distinction I can now draw at this time, is that I realized this (abit, too fucking late of course) and made my peace with it, and forgave both myself, and her for this, and even reached out to her and said as much.

I will not pretend to have any great and personal insight into her own status at this time (beyond that which I have had confirmed from other sources), but she has yet to reciprocate as of the date of this writing, and for me and where I sit, that speaks volumes on par to anything she could say or do for or to me at this time.

And it damn near breaks my heart all over again to realize that.

But healed bones are always stronger once they are done re-growing, and besides all of that, if she really was that strong a personality at her core, she never would have allowed either of us to become so weak and break apart to start with.

Cowardice is like that... And I REFUSE to be a coward, thus I write this, thus I challenge myself.

Thus, I remain true to myself.

~Caleb