I feel it may be good to disclose my method of posting in order to be understood why posting may appear spotty.
I usually type up an entry during a break at work in order to refresh myself and clear out any thoughts outside of the realm of what is required by my job. Last week I was for the most part out to another office and without a computer on which to post. When at home I do not often take the time to get onto my computer so I do not often post from home. I'm considering rethinking this.
I feel it is important that I maintain some form of stability in my life at a time when many uncertainties exist. Sanity, Clarity and Serenity are directly effected by expression or the lack there of, in my case.
It makes me happy to know that my thoughts may be interesting enough to be looked over by others, but that is not the point of this en devour. As with anything this is something that I must do for myself. Selfish though it may be, there is not much I can do for others if I care not for myself.
Despite that know that I sincerely appreciate anyone and every one's presence that may appear here.
You have my gratitude.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Friday, February 28, 2014
Escape
There comes a time when we all must take time away from what has become our daily lives.
I know I have stated that we much walk to reach our destination, but we should not just walk blindly. Sometimes it is good to stop and survey the area, see your options, see what you have been doing for what it is. Keeping up the same pattern day in and day out is like walking in circles. You know your doing something but you never are truly getting anywhere. How would you know you are doing this unless you took a look at it from a different point of view.
My current job serves it's purpose, income to maintain a comfortable living for me and my family. That is all. It does not provide peace of mind, there is no real purpose or greater meaning in it. It is a drain on spirit. I need to progress grow and where I am now they only mire you down in the bog and sap you dry till your nothing but bones. Hardly a quid pro qou.
The moment you life starts losing meaning is when your existence is in danger. We cannot jeopardize our existence and throw away purpose for a dollar sign. There will never be enough money in the world to match that of a human life with it's infinite potential. Money being an essentially made up standard of value.
I am becoming comfortable and fat for the slaughter. I need to bring purpose back into my life, not just for myself but as example to my children.
I know I have stated that we much walk to reach our destination, but we should not just walk blindly. Sometimes it is good to stop and survey the area, see your options, see what you have been doing for what it is. Keeping up the same pattern day in and day out is like walking in circles. You know your doing something but you never are truly getting anywhere. How would you know you are doing this unless you took a look at it from a different point of view.
My current job serves it's purpose, income to maintain a comfortable living for me and my family. That is all. It does not provide peace of mind, there is no real purpose or greater meaning in it. It is a drain on spirit. I need to progress grow and where I am now they only mire you down in the bog and sap you dry till your nothing but bones. Hardly a quid pro qou.
The moment you life starts losing meaning is when your existence is in danger. We cannot jeopardize our existence and throw away purpose for a dollar sign. There will never be enough money in the world to match that of a human life with it's infinite potential. Money being an essentially made up standard of value.
I am becoming comfortable and fat for the slaughter. I need to bring purpose back into my life, not just for myself but as example to my children.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Probable
Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.
No one wishes for misfortune to befall them, it simply does. It is inescapable. To go through life without a spot of difficulty would be truly miraculous. The only thing we can do to stay on our feet is remaining aware of the possibilities. The most dangerous strike is one that you do not see coming.
I believe when something happens that is outside of our control we must grit our teeth and push through it. There may be wounds, there may be scars but as long as you are alive there is a tomorrow. And tomorrow holds as much promise for happiness as it does distress.
No one wishes for misfortune to befall them, it simply does. It is inescapable. To go through life without a spot of difficulty would be truly miraculous. The only thing we can do to stay on our feet is remaining aware of the possibilities. The most dangerous strike is one that you do not see coming.
I believe when something happens that is outside of our control we must grit our teeth and push through it. There may be wounds, there may be scars but as long as you are alive there is a tomorrow. And tomorrow holds as much promise for happiness as it does distress.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Love
I carry my heart gently.
I feel the rhythm.
It is mine to give or mine to keep.
I hold it out to some,
not everyone wants it.
Sometimes I hide it away.
I forget that I have one.
Could I miss the one that wants it?
Sometimes others give me theirs.
I look at it with it's rapid pattern.
Is this for me?
Can I really have this?
Sometimes they take it back.
It takes me a while to get mine back, sometimes.
I can't just leave it with someone who doesn't want it though.
One day someone will cherish it.
I will wait.
I won't have to give it,
it won't have to be taken.
It will... just be theirs.
I feel the rhythm.
It is mine to give or mine to keep.
I hold it out to some,
not everyone wants it.
Sometimes I hide it away.
I forget that I have one.
Could I miss the one that wants it?
Sometimes others give me theirs.
I look at it with it's rapid pattern.
Is this for me?
Can I really have this?
Sometimes they take it back.
It takes me a while to get mine back, sometimes.
I can't just leave it with someone who doesn't want it though.
One day someone will cherish it.
I will wait.
I won't have to give it,
it won't have to be taken.
It will... just be theirs.
Guise
There are a few sayings, "Never judge a book by it's cover." or It's the person who seems to have no flaws that you should be worried about.
Humans are deceptive creatures, we put on airs and masks, we play parts and camouflage ourselves. It is so common to do so that it becomes difficult to convey our actual selves. The more we have to hide the better actors we have to become.
It's not that people should have shame and hide things, it's that society shuns people into tucking away their honest feelings. It is a survival reaction, blending in with the herd so as not to be picked out and taken apart. In doing this we cause our true feelings to boil quicker like a covered pot, risking it to pour over into something unexpected and uncontrollable.
I want to be honest and convey my actual self, after so many years there is a lot of wall paper to tear down to get there though. I will work on this. I think it would actual be safer to have a world where people don't bottle up. Maybe people wouldn't end up killing or doing other extreme acts, because we could see them and help them along.
We are all victims of our own society, but as with most things, it is only because we allow ourselves to be. So let's drop the acts and masks.
Humans are deceptive creatures, we put on airs and masks, we play parts and camouflage ourselves. It is so common to do so that it becomes difficult to convey our actual selves. The more we have to hide the better actors we have to become.
It's not that people should have shame and hide things, it's that society shuns people into tucking away their honest feelings. It is a survival reaction, blending in with the herd so as not to be picked out and taken apart. In doing this we cause our true feelings to boil quicker like a covered pot, risking it to pour over into something unexpected and uncontrollable.
I want to be honest and convey my actual self, after so many years there is a lot of wall paper to tear down to get there though. I will work on this. I think it would actual be safer to have a world where people don't bottle up. Maybe people wouldn't end up killing or doing other extreme acts, because we could see them and help them along.
We are all victims of our own society, but as with most things, it is only because we allow ourselves to be. So let's drop the acts and masks.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Beast
Rend, Tear, Roar, Thrash.
The beast inside is never quenched. Yearning for a chance to get out, to be backed into a corner so that it may lash out without remorse. To tear and be torn, to bleed and bash and rip and rage. Fire surging in the veins, engulfing everything. It must destroy, it must kill. There is no regret and no fulfillment. There is only the urge, the unending compulsion.
When was it that we decided men were any different than beasts. When did we began to hold our noses up to the other creatures deeming them lesser than we. At what time did we think we were beyond being beasts ourselves? You cannot change what you are, you can only be. We are the beast restrained inside ourselves, lurking behind our eyes, prey all around.
If driven to the extreme, I think I would be wise to let the leash out for a bit. The longer the beast starves, the hungrier it gets. No one can live in a cage forever.
The beast inside is never quenched. Yearning for a chance to get out, to be backed into a corner so that it may lash out without remorse. To tear and be torn, to bleed and bash and rip and rage. Fire surging in the veins, engulfing everything. It must destroy, it must kill. There is no regret and no fulfillment. There is only the urge, the unending compulsion.
When was it that we decided men were any different than beasts. When did we began to hold our noses up to the other creatures deeming them lesser than we. At what time did we think we were beyond being beasts ourselves? You cannot change what you are, you can only be. We are the beast restrained inside ourselves, lurking behind our eyes, prey all around.
If driven to the extreme, I think I would be wise to let the leash out for a bit. The longer the beast starves, the hungrier it gets. No one can live in a cage forever.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Trust
It is something that is natural to us when a capable caregiver is present in our infant years.
As I hold my child of 11 months, walking back and forth with a slight bounce, he dozes off on my shoulder. After a few minutes it becomes a deep slumber. I couldn't help but think to myself, 'Wow, this is the definition of trust'. How else could he rest easy without concerns of being randomly jostled or dropped. Perhaps he has not yet learned of skepticism.
Imagine having so much trust in someone that you would leave your slumbering vessel in their hands. It seems almost unfathomable. Where did all the trust go? grade school betrays? Failed Love connections? Law related pestering?
I don't think that trust ever truly leaves us, we just ration it as the world influences us. Complete trust in everyone would be a flawed thought, though an ideal world. We must ration trust right?
I have to be willing to trust those that trust in me; mutual trust is more sustainable. It is hard to trust someone who does not trust you; skepticism is contagious. It is hard as a parent to trust your child, I imagine even in their later years. This is not due to skepticism, it is due to fear. I fear for what might happen to them if I'm not there to save them from the world. How can a child grow without the trust of a parent though? They need to know they should be confident takings steps without you hovering over them, that you believe in them as much as they believe in themselves. We all needs this to be confident and successful.
I will say this, If you care for someone trust them. If you cannot trust them then maybe you should reevaluate your relationship. Be it your child, partner or good friend. I have friends that I can trust. I have a partner I know is more than capable and I trust her. I trust my boys when they have the air of certainty about them.
As I hold my child of 11 months, walking back and forth with a slight bounce, he dozes off on my shoulder. After a few minutes it becomes a deep slumber. I couldn't help but think to myself, 'Wow, this is the definition of trust'. How else could he rest easy without concerns of being randomly jostled or dropped. Perhaps he has not yet learned of skepticism.
Imagine having so much trust in someone that you would leave your slumbering vessel in their hands. It seems almost unfathomable. Where did all the trust go? grade school betrays? Failed Love connections? Law related pestering?
I don't think that trust ever truly leaves us, we just ration it as the world influences us. Complete trust in everyone would be a flawed thought, though an ideal world. We must ration trust right?
I have to be willing to trust those that trust in me; mutual trust is more sustainable. It is hard to trust someone who does not trust you; skepticism is contagious. It is hard as a parent to trust your child, I imagine even in their later years. This is not due to skepticism, it is due to fear. I fear for what might happen to them if I'm not there to save them from the world. How can a child grow without the trust of a parent though? They need to know they should be confident takings steps without you hovering over them, that you believe in them as much as they believe in themselves. We all needs this to be confident and successful.
I will say this, If you care for someone trust them. If you cannot trust them then maybe you should reevaluate your relationship. Be it your child, partner or good friend. I have friends that I can trust. I have a partner I know is more than capable and I trust her. I trust my boys when they have the air of certainty about them.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Reflection
I'm not sure why but I despise referring to myself in the third person.
It is customary in my line of work to announce yourself when you enter onto a conference call. This results in the repetition of "Jim Mansfield is here". It is very uncomfortable to me to announce myself in that fashion, I usually opt for a "Hey, it's Chris." Rather informal but I don't feel like putting myself on a pedestal.
To define my relationship with myself I would say "I accept who I am". I would not put myself above anyone and I am aware the world does not revolve around me. I am fairly sure a bare minimum of even entangle themselves with me. A slight lament, but I am fine with that. Everything has it's purpose and direction. I don't have the be the center of a universe to exist and do so pleasantly.
Knowing this, I do not seek to draw attention to myself. I can be apart of something without circling the drain (is this a depressing way to view being central in something?). I find it fascinating that despite my social neglect, people will take the time to interact with me. I must have one of those faces, as they say. It's always intriguing to speak with some one with no intentions of anything further. It's a very pure conversation where the only purpose is informational exchange and general interest in the other being.
By now it must seem apparent that I live inside my own head for the most part. I watch the world through the theater that is my own eyes and have my mystery science theater going all the while. I am the hermit in my head. Perhaps this way of interacting with life makes me detached? I don't think so, I just think I choose the moments to put my whole self into. Do I really need to be fully engaged in ever conversation about weather trends? Surely not.
Being the constant hypocrite that I am, I have to say that there are time I want to be observed and considered. I find myself requiring, more than anything that my boys look me in the eyes and see me and Know Me. I have to be an essential part of their universe, for myself personally, for my happiness. I like for them to be able to be happy to engage the world on their own, but I can not disengage or be detached from them entirely. I need them as much as I hope they need me.
If I had to define myself in one word I would be lying or cutting myself short and so would anyone else. We cannot be defined we are abstract and dynamic. I may hate the things tomorrow that I loved yesterday or visa versa. We are Chaos and should embrace that. I don't have time fumbling around in my own head, trying to figure out how to sort together details to define myself to myself. I only have time to exist and move forward, Living.
It is customary in my line of work to announce yourself when you enter onto a conference call. This results in the repetition of "Jim Mansfield is here". It is very uncomfortable to me to announce myself in that fashion, I usually opt for a "Hey, it's Chris." Rather informal but I don't feel like putting myself on a pedestal.
To define my relationship with myself I would say "I accept who I am". I would not put myself above anyone and I am aware the world does not revolve around me. I am fairly sure a bare minimum of even entangle themselves with me. A slight lament, but I am fine with that. Everything has it's purpose and direction. I don't have the be the center of a universe to exist and do so pleasantly.
Knowing this, I do not seek to draw attention to myself. I can be apart of something without circling the drain (is this a depressing way to view being central in something?). I find it fascinating that despite my social neglect, people will take the time to interact with me. I must have one of those faces, as they say. It's always intriguing to speak with some one with no intentions of anything further. It's a very pure conversation where the only purpose is informational exchange and general interest in the other being.
By now it must seem apparent that I live inside my own head for the most part. I watch the world through the theater that is my own eyes and have my mystery science theater going all the while. I am the hermit in my head. Perhaps this way of interacting with life makes me detached? I don't think so, I just think I choose the moments to put my whole self into. Do I really need to be fully engaged in ever conversation about weather trends? Surely not.
Being the constant hypocrite that I am, I have to say that there are time I want to be observed and considered. I find myself requiring, more than anything that my boys look me in the eyes and see me and Know Me. I have to be an essential part of their universe, for myself personally, for my happiness. I like for them to be able to be happy to engage the world on their own, but I can not disengage or be detached from them entirely. I need them as much as I hope they need me.
If I had to define myself in one word I would be lying or cutting myself short and so would anyone else. We cannot be defined we are abstract and dynamic. I may hate the things tomorrow that I loved yesterday or visa versa. We are Chaos and should embrace that. I don't have time fumbling around in my own head, trying to figure out how to sort together details to define myself to myself. I only have time to exist and move forward, Living.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Taboo
I had a dream a month or so ago that inspired me to write a short story about it. I am going to modify it a bit though.
Perhaps it is human nature that we must test something despite all warnings.
While visiting with distant relatives at their rural home, I had taken to exploring each day into the woods and country side. One day I happened upon a strange stone structure hidden in the hillside by overgrowth. I was curious, but not enough to enter alone or without a flashlight.
The next day while in while in the small town about a mile from my relatives home I asked some of the locals if they knew anything about it. I was met mostly by folklore which ended with warning not to disturb unknown things. None of the information was exact enough to seem relevant to my discovery however.
I had given up and started back when I was approached by a trio of locals (two guys and a girl) about my age. It seems my curiosity was infections as they expressed an interest in adventuring into the structure with me on the following day.
Around noonish the next day we assembled outside of my relatives rural home and set out with tools in hand. We cleared away the over growth from cracked opening in the stone door and lowered ourselves in one at a time. Goosebumps spread over me as we venture into the dark tunnel bearing our flashlights. The tunnel went at a gentle decline and was easy to transverse and grew colder the further we went.
Eventually the tunnel opened up into room with many stone pillars. Upon inspection the only thing we discovered in the room was a worn life sized statue of stone female angel carved from some dark stone with some weather wear. It's visage capture in standing pose, arms down to it's side, palms facing forward, eyes opened with no pupils and head tilted slightly down.
There didn't seem to be any way to explain the purpose of the structure or the angel statue facing a back corner. The only information we had to go on was some text carved into one of the walls.
"Do not render life in the presence of the Black Angel"
We puzzled over the text till the only girl of the group said she wanted to try something. She scrambled through her pack and eventually pulled out a bit of paper and a nub of a pencil. Without explaining she took the pencil to the paper. It looked as if she were drawing a person (hard to tell exactly, I don't think she was an artist).
As she put the finishing touches to the picture, it looked as if the lead quickly spread out across the paper till it was completely black. We all jumped back as she screamed and dropped it. The sound of stone scraping against stone sounded in the corner. We turned, aiming our flashlights at the angel statue which had turn from the corner to face us.
Horrified we stood in shock as the statue glided in a blur across the ground stopping inches from our female companion. Tears ran down her face as she was floated up in mid air. Once her eyes met with the angel's her body contorted monstrously, joints and limbs curling in on each other till she was balled up, bloody and lifeless.
Her remains fell onto the ground with a sloppy wet plop, the sound breaking whatever trance held us as we all broke into a mad dash. I could hear behind us the sound of stone scraping stone and knew the angel wasn't done.
I did not look back as I rushed through the tunnel. The sounds of my two remaining companions who had been following me turned from labored breathing to death cries. As I caught a glimpse of the light filtering in from the spot where we had entered my last companions death cry was fading. The thought being next in line running through my mind as I scrambled like a wild animal through the opening tossing myself to the ground outside.
Winded and worn, I laid there catching my breath. The angel was much to large to make it through the opening, I prayed. There was no sound coming from the structure as I brought myself to my feet. I didn't dare look within, so I quietly began to move towards my relatives home. As I began walking I heard something from within the structure and eventually I recognized it. It was the sound of stone scraping...
I have never been back to my relatives place, nor have I gone over the details of those events till today. I can't shake the feeling that I am being watched and have sworn off drawing. Worst of all, I can't take the sound of stone scraping against stone.
Perhaps it is human nature that we must test something despite all warnings.
While visiting with distant relatives at their rural home, I had taken to exploring each day into the woods and country side. One day I happened upon a strange stone structure hidden in the hillside by overgrowth. I was curious, but not enough to enter alone or without a flashlight.
The next day while in while in the small town about a mile from my relatives home I asked some of the locals if they knew anything about it. I was met mostly by folklore which ended with warning not to disturb unknown things. None of the information was exact enough to seem relevant to my discovery however.
I had given up and started back when I was approached by a trio of locals (two guys and a girl) about my age. It seems my curiosity was infections as they expressed an interest in adventuring into the structure with me on the following day.
Around noonish the next day we assembled outside of my relatives rural home and set out with tools in hand. We cleared away the over growth from cracked opening in the stone door and lowered ourselves in one at a time. Goosebumps spread over me as we venture into the dark tunnel bearing our flashlights. The tunnel went at a gentle decline and was easy to transverse and grew colder the further we went.
Eventually the tunnel opened up into room with many stone pillars. Upon inspection the only thing we discovered in the room was a worn life sized statue of stone female angel carved from some dark stone with some weather wear. It's visage capture in standing pose, arms down to it's side, palms facing forward, eyes opened with no pupils and head tilted slightly down.
There didn't seem to be any way to explain the purpose of the structure or the angel statue facing a back corner. The only information we had to go on was some text carved into one of the walls.
"Do not render life in the presence of the Black Angel"
We puzzled over the text till the only girl of the group said she wanted to try something. She scrambled through her pack and eventually pulled out a bit of paper and a nub of a pencil. Without explaining she took the pencil to the paper. It looked as if she were drawing a person (hard to tell exactly, I don't think she was an artist).
As she put the finishing touches to the picture, it looked as if the lead quickly spread out across the paper till it was completely black. We all jumped back as she screamed and dropped it. The sound of stone scraping against stone sounded in the corner. We turned, aiming our flashlights at the angel statue which had turn from the corner to face us.
Horrified we stood in shock as the statue glided in a blur across the ground stopping inches from our female companion. Tears ran down her face as she was floated up in mid air. Once her eyes met with the angel's her body contorted monstrously, joints and limbs curling in on each other till she was balled up, bloody and lifeless.
Her remains fell onto the ground with a sloppy wet plop, the sound breaking whatever trance held us as we all broke into a mad dash. I could hear behind us the sound of stone scraping stone and knew the angel wasn't done.
I did not look back as I rushed through the tunnel. The sounds of my two remaining companions who had been following me turned from labored breathing to death cries. As I caught a glimpse of the light filtering in from the spot where we had entered my last companions death cry was fading. The thought being next in line running through my mind as I scrambled like a wild animal through the opening tossing myself to the ground outside.
Winded and worn, I laid there catching my breath. The angel was much to large to make it through the opening, I prayed. There was no sound coming from the structure as I brought myself to my feet. I didn't dare look within, so I quietly began to move towards my relatives home. As I began walking I heard something from within the structure and eventually I recognized it. It was the sound of stone scraping...
I have never been back to my relatives place, nor have I gone over the details of those events till today. I can't shake the feeling that I am being watched and have sworn off drawing. Worst of all, I can't take the sound of stone scraping against stone.
Dread
The constant foreboding atmosphere of my office job gives me a sense of impending doom.
I actually like dealing with the people but I feel that my every move is scrutinized. It's as if those in positions above me are taking in every little that could be considered a problem and cataloging it for an eventual, climatic exile. I know I need the money and working in a physically comfortable position is a plus, but I would really like to be in charge of my own fate.
There is an offer on a table to paint murals, maybe that would be a good outlet. I'm not sure if I like the act of painting enough. I do enjoy being creative and designing imagery. It would also be good to not be cooped up. The down side is that it may not be sustaining and there is still the sense of impending doom and being watched. This time it would be from clients however.
I think I should take more chances and I would if it was just myself at stake. Having two baby boys at home makes choices like these very difficult however. Risk is something that even in small amounts can be devastating when the life of children are at stake.
I shouldn't use them as an excuse to stay comfortable though. I need to set an example for them or they may end up in my dilemma.
I actually like dealing with the people but I feel that my every move is scrutinized. It's as if those in positions above me are taking in every little that could be considered a problem and cataloging it for an eventual, climatic exile. I know I need the money and working in a physically comfortable position is a plus, but I would really like to be in charge of my own fate.
There is an offer on a table to paint murals, maybe that would be a good outlet. I'm not sure if I like the act of painting enough. I do enjoy being creative and designing imagery. It would also be good to not be cooped up. The down side is that it may not be sustaining and there is still the sense of impending doom and being watched. This time it would be from clients however.
I think I should take more chances and I would if it was just myself at stake. Having two baby boys at home makes choices like these very difficult however. Risk is something that even in small amounts can be devastating when the life of children are at stake.
I shouldn't use them as an excuse to stay comfortable though. I need to set an example for them or they may end up in my dilemma.
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