Overcoming Adversity

Accept what it is and adapt, or sink deeper into the void of despair. Those are the options, and I have tasted both.

Admittedly, I have drank deeper from the latter than the former. 

It seems easier, after all, to just wallow in defeat. The effort to stand up and overcome seems to be too much to bear at the time, but it’s necessary if we are to become who we are meant to be despite adversity. 

I tend to have tunnel vision. I put too much focus on what is going on around me in the negative, than considering the bigger picture. That is natural to do. When you are wounded, you focus on the wound in order to heal as quickly as possible. 

What if it cannot be healed quickly, or at all?

Imagine you ‘healed’ from something, just to get a negative diagnosis in the future. It happens all the time. 

Healing is important, but it’s too easy to focus on recovery and we lose all focus of everything and everyone else in the meantime. 

There is a tendency to feel guilt during this time of recuperation. There are feelings of worthlessness and desperation. We try our best to belong, to be present, yet we more often than not are overwhelmed beyond our efforts and it leaves those close to us scratching their heads. No one is to blame. 

At times these events lead us into insanity. We may act out towards those we love in irrational ways. We may even go so far as to fashion a noose around our neck in an effort to escape the situation completely. Yet, that isn’t the answer. Though we are blind to see it at the time, we are needed and wanted. 

On Being Alone

Sometimes it is a choice, sometimes not. Solitude can be both a blessing and a curse. Whether it is intentional (you need some space, or time to yourself) or unintentional, I believe we were never meant to be alone. 

For a while now, I craved solitude, yet now that I have it..I would genuinely welcome an interruption. We need space, sure, but it should only be temporary. We were made for connection after all. 

Sometimes life is too much, and isolation seems so overwhelmingly attractive. Whether it be laying in our bed for a while, or choosing to leave the scene completely. I, for one, am grateful to the friends that didn’t leave me that way in those moments. 

Though at times we don’t recognize, or want to admit it; we need each other. 

I also understand some people may not have anyone to pull you from the doldrums, and that makes me sad. It’s in my nature to be there for people when they need me, and I am grateful it has mostly been a two way street. 

For those who don’t feel like, or literally, have no one to seek solace with, I grieve with you. My hope is this becomes a rare occurrence. 

In these times, I understand the notion of not wanting to be a burden, and there are times where we just don’t have the energy to ask for company. Hell, we may not even recognize we need/want it. That’s okay. 

My encouragement to the lonely is: when you need space, take it. When you are isolating yourself due to anything other than needing space, try to be open with those around you about it. My hope is they understand, will give you some space, but won’t leave you to wallow forever. 

To those on the outside: please respect our boundaries, but don’t be afraid to step in if you feel we need it. Though we may object, a lot of times it’s exactly what we need. 

For Grandma Lair

For Grandma

The fire crackled in the hearth as the snow fell in flurries outdoors and Madie sat in her easy chair rocking while listening to an old sermon tape. The sermon was on the Fatherhood of God, something that was sometimes difficult for her to understand.

As she listened intently with her Bible open on her lap the back door flew open to little Daniel standing in the cold. He wore a blue stocking cap that had a white ball on top and white tassels hanging from the ear flaps. Daniel took off his coat and shoes by the door and came in to warm up near the fire.

“Just a minute young man; you come give your grandma a kiss!”

“Aw grandma, do I have to?” complained Daniel.

“If you don’t, then I will wrestle you to the ground and kiss you anyway.” replied Madie with a smirk.

“Okay…” said Daniel as he resigned himself to receive a kiss he proclaimed he didn’t want, but deep down enjoyed receiving.

“Thank you Daniel, I love you!”

“I love you too grandma.”

Madie sat and watched Daniel by the fire while the other children continued to romp around out in the snow. They too would be in soon to warm up a little while by the fire before going right back out into the cold again.

Young Danny let out a little, barely audible sigh, yet Madie heard it all the same. He looked sad with his shoulders slouched as he seemed to be gazing into the flickering flames of the fire, deep in child-like thoughts.

“Danny, is something wrong my dear?”

“I’m okay grandma.” replied Daniel without turning to look her way.

“Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. Your body language and that little sigh says it all.”

“What is body language grandma?” said Daniel, this time turning to face her.

Madie sat up, leaned towards Daniel and replied, “It’s the way your body presents itself depending on how you feel. It is a way people communicate without using words. That’s why I knew you were not telling the truth, because although you said one thing, your body and that sigh told me another.”

“Oh, okay…”

“Now that I have your attention; are you going to tell me what is bothering you?” asked Madie.

“I don’t know…” said Daniel with a bigger sigh this time.

Madie got out of her chair and paused the sermon. She then went over by the fire, sat down next to Daniel and also gazed deep into the lively flames. After sitting there a bit with him, she again pressed Daniel for what had him down.

This time Daniel gave in, and with his lower lip starting to quiver he told his grandmother, “Michael and me got in a fight, and he said he doesn’t love me or like me anymore, and then he pushed me to the ground.” A single tear escaped over the lower lid of his right eye as Daniel tried to remain strong.

“Now why would he say that?” inquired Madie.

As his eyes continued to fill with tears Daniel replied, “Well, he was building a snowman while Marie, Nicole and me were chasing each other in the snow. I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I ran into his snowman and ruined it. Now he has to start all over. I didn’t mean to!” Daniel began to silently sob after his confession. He did not like to cry, but he felt so terrible, yet he knew grandma loved him and would not make fun.

Madie sat there holding Daniel close while he sobbed silently in her arms so he may be comforted by her embrace. It was not long before he began to calm down when she said, “Honey, Michael was upset and did not truly mean what he said, but all the same it was not right to react to you the way he did and say what he said. I will have a talk with him later.”

With the issue off his chest, and knowing his grandma would take care of him, Daniel felt much better, but hoped that Michael would not get in too much trouble.

“Thank you grandma, I love you.” he said before getting up to go back outside again.

“I love you too young man!” responded Madie with another kiss on his cheek before clicking the sermon back on and returning to her rocking chair.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Try to imagine you’re buried alive. You panic for a bit, but decide it’s best to keep calm. Alas! There is a string buried with you! You give it some pulls, gently at first, then vigorously as your desperation increases, yet no one is around to hear your death bell toll. 

That’s what severe depression can feel like, and it’s very real while one is experiencing it. 

It’s not common for people to share this kind of thing with those around them, because at the time they are just trying to survive and don’t think to reach out for help. It’s not always because they don’t want to burden people, but often because one becomes so engrossed in suffocating they think in millisecond moments. 

It’s become more and more common these days for people to actually understand when one does broach the subject of depression, because more people seem to understand or have the ability to relate from personal experience. As sad as it may seem that more people understand what it feels like, I think it’s a good thing, because it has become easier to find people with whom you can relate and get advice from. 

Yet, there are still a majority of those that do not understand, and probably never will. They don’t recognize the signs, or they don’t seem to care enough to pay attention (we have also become adept at masking being okay, even happy. We’re skillful liars sometimes, just not wanting to make things worse, if we even say anything at all). 

If anyone has shared with you about struggling with depression, I can almost guarantee they have more than struggled with it, like a rash that won’t go away or whatever. Don’t brush over those conversations. Try to sympathize and learn as best you can when someone does open up to you. 

Pay more attention to people as well. Choose to notice differences in people’s demeanor, and do something about it. Anything! I can’t stress this enough, it could be a matter of life or death (I’ve been there). Try your best not to be those who arrive after the bell stops ringing. 

Vagabond of Brokeness

Humanity is a tapestry. Each of us our own stitch in existence.

Humanity is a broken mirror. Crevices abound and our reflection is nowhere near perfect.

Humanity is an orchestra. Alone we may make beautiful music, but together there is beauty that touches the soul.

To be human is a complicated formula with no perfect solution. We try in vain. We vex ourselves over the course of our lives and never get it perfect.

Humanity is an amalgamation of misfit toys stranded on an island, longing for love lost, and finding it in each other.

I once wrote, ‘I walked a line once blurred between reality and the absurd. The line is razor thin, but I will never be that man again.’ It is a comforting lie we tell ourselves. Always striving for greatness. Always falling short with pet skeletons in our closet.

Vagabond. One who wanders. No home to speak of, yet making the most of where they are at night.

Identities change, whether out of necessity, or the toll of life. What about the in between? The unknown flux one is not aware of in the moment until they are on the other side?

If my house had a name, I would call it Void. Free on its own with nothing to offer, yet it somehow brings others in. A mystery still unsolved.

Humanity is brokenness and I am the man who walks amidst the cracks.