Category Archives: Emotions

Celebrate the Failures

We dream, set goals, and employ plans to meet the goals–to make those dreams come true. We draw from our resources, build networks, and develop our skill set to progress towards our goal. Our agendas become clearer as our dreams become a reality. And at that moment we least expect it, we encounter a setback.

Not a tragedy. Not a roadblock. A setback! It’s only a tragedy if we fail to go onward. It’s only a roadblock if we can not make our way around the obstacle. It’s a setback because it requires more. So much more! Because life is supposed to be unpredictable, we can not plan for the setbacks. We can only build our strength and endurance to be prepared just in case…

The failures that naturally occur help us build a tolerance. They force us to pause. They force us to rethink, reflect, and refocus.

In our mind, anything is possible. In reality, things are possible only when we don’t give up.

Ask the runner who falls, or the non-smoker who relapses, or the believer who backslides. It’s our perception that determines how we proceed.

We celebrate our victories. But we must celebrate our failures too. That’s not to suggest that the celebrations are anything alike. A failure is only a failure when we refuse to continue onward. We celebrate the failure by embracing the need to try again. The celebration is in the breathe that escapes our lips. The sigh, the gasp, the yell–they fuel that sequel. Part two is within our reach.

We don’t quit. We don’t give up. Instead we regroup. We reevaluate our path. We may even reestablish what drives us.

Be vivacious in your quest. The celebration is life. The victory is in living another day. Tell the story in knowing that there are many chapters. Celebrate life. Celebrate that you have more chances! Celebrate the failure because you know that you can try again.

For every victory, celebrate hard. But for every failure, celebrate too. With every failure comes knowledge (and a humility that is not always private). Celebrate that too! For with humiliation comes accountability. Get back up!

It doesn’t feel good to fall short of our goals. Let this drive you harder. True failure is loss. Do not mourn the losses for long. They’ll be time enough true failure. True failure comes at the very end. For life is a temporary circumstance. Death is forever.

My Story Is Spelled My.Stery

“Deja vu” is the mind affirming a familiarity with a circumstance. Was it a dream or a coincidence? That moment that causes us to stop and question ourselves, when we look around and know that somehow we’ve been here before–that is the moment that we realize that there’s a higher consciousness and a heightened sense or awareness.

We are leaving clues for our future selves intermittently. Pictures, mementos, and miscellaneous scribblings that capture something meaningful are unimportant at any given point in time except for the one moment that means everything.

Our mental health is gauged not only by how we interact with the world, but also by how we manage our own thoughts and feelings. A person who collects things assigns meaning to each souvenir. Awards and trophies are merely framed papers or inscribed tin fastened to molded plastic or crafted bark. The more important, the more likely we display these artifacts to the world. And what the world honors, we covet.

We are proud of those things that we’ve been taught are valuable. Yet we treasure most those things we’ve come to craft and mold on our own. Our creativity spawns all kinds of ideas. From our flesh comes offspring, and from our conceptions come legacy. Any deviation is an opportunity for evolution. And as convoluted as this may seem, we all have that moment when we hear a familiar sound or whiff an almost forgotten aroma. It triggers memory. It’s at that moment that we question our being and recognize that we are not just present in that moment, but we’ve become increasingly aware more than we once were.

Wise men don’t know everything. But they earn wisdom from learning that they can not know everything. There’s a calmness from surrendering a need to have more, to know more, or to understand everything. Some call it bliss in ignorance. Others call it letting go to let God.

That higher consciousness is merely a lack of consciousness. An unknowing, un-relentless, unfamiliar mystery for which the end is neither foreseen nor aforementioned…

This is where we are right now. Only a fool would assure us otherwise. The clues we leave are the clues we find later… and this prescription for fulfillment is what we call happiness. Because in that moment, we believe that things happen for a reason.

Until we are again clueless…

Sorry, Not Sorry

Spending many years in reflection

Fewer years in regret

A moment or two mourning losses

A second or so welcoming the growth

There are more than five human senses

More than seven wonders of the world

The provable truths can be disproven

The wrongs are too embarrassing to discredit

Our lives are not our own

Like ants we are apart of something bigger

A colonization vulnerable

Enough to be washed away by one hefty

Spring shower

Our selflessness has eroded

Consumed by what is personal

We may never earn the glory

That we so badly think we deserve

Entitlement

Enrichment

Enhancement

Deplorable

Disenfranchisement

Deposable deniability

Dorian

Grey

Black

Life

Death

Surreal

Matters

No one is sorry

Except for the ones who didn’t cause the pain

Lacking empathy, sympathy, or concern

The voices in our heads don’t silence us

No filters, no compassion

We think it, we say it

We see it, we photograph it

Our newsfeeds are cluttered with other’s posts

(Without an original thought of our own)

No illusions

Nothing concealed

Proudest, boldest generation in history

Killing each other, killing ourselves

Watching the genocide

and dispelling the lessons we were supposed to

Never Forget

The fear fuels the ignorance

Which justifies the hatred

Personal losses are the only ones

That drive change

(the kind of change that’s inevitable)

There’s an expectation

For change to occur. It is both

Demanded (by those who need it)

& Resisted (by those who control it)

So many are not sorry

Because so many will never own their

Thoughts

Actions

Behaviors

Beliefs

Words

Birds Singing

For most of my life, I’ve lived in the midst of the woodlands. I was never far from the sound of traffic though. Rarely do I get to sit and watch people go by because we are all in a hurry to get somewhere.

Dogs bark and birds tweet, but I’m rarely able to get past the gossip hounds or the twitter rants. The coffee is never fresh brewed and the tea is always cold. I’m living in excess, but my needs are barely met.

I suppose my reflection has once again prompted my personal call-to-action. I WILL (for a moment) put down the phone. I will brew a fresh cup of java; even though it will surely make me sleepy. I will donate the things that I don’t need; and want a little less.

I won’t contemplate the lies I hear; I’ll be listening less. I won’t turn on the news because it’s usually the same old things expressed… differently.

I will ignore the news that the president’s spokesperson has retired her voice; even though I am entertained at the thought that the president will resume speaking for himself.

I will ignore that another black man was shot by police in the Deep South; even though it will be characterized as a righteous kill.

I will ignore that my clients make transactions right before my eyes. The battered doors and smashed windows weren’t warning enough for me.

I’ll ignore the bloated bank account because I remember that last week’s debits were overdrawn. The gas bill is low this week, but the electric bill is rising.

I’m just going to park the car, lock up the bike, and walk

Down the street

Watching

People go by.

Assessment Comes After the Lesson

As much as we try to plan or predict what the future holds, it is our ability to reflect that is most effective in determining what we’ve learned. Outcomes can be measured. Our data fosters understanding. We are hopeful that our information will translate into preparedness.

Teaching does not always equate to learning. We’ve forgotten that our effectiveness should not be determined by what we know, but how we develop our ability to learn.

Flawed systems are only determined after the fact. Omniscience neurally exists. What I mean is that we feel, but our feelings are emotional. Wisdom comes not by determining what we know, but knowing what we do not know.

What we think we know may not be a true reflection of knowledge. It may simply be a manifestation of our beliefs. Misconceptions, however, are not evident without exploration, reflections, and reality.

Life is the test.

Survival is contingent on action.

Knowledge is dependent on experience.

Practice is superficial if it is never applied.

Missing the One That’s Gone (mistreating the one that’s here)

The title suggests that relationships are backwards. But consider a deeper concept. We mourn at funerals, but the emotional commitment to sadness doesn’t usually last long. We eventually level out…chemically emotional, spiritually. And although the memory stimulates disappointment for the loss of a loved one, it also allows us to recall the good times.

We reminisce!

We are learning more about our genetic code. Commercially branded exploration such as 23andMe, Ancestry and myHeritage.com connect us to lives that we never knew, experiences we would not endure, and family we’ll never meet. But doesn’t it seem awkward to pursue “extra-” life when our own is right before us? The option to abandon the present in exchange for knowledge of the past lineage.

It’s every history teachers’ fantasy to have so many students of the world want to know where they’ve come from. In one way or another, we are all connected to some legacy.

But what of the present?! Can we be motivated to enhance our lives to do better? What lessons have we’ve absorbed from our ancestors? The history books could only convey a story from the perspective of the story tellers. But are these new methods of history-sharing impartial and unbiased? Is someone really telling us our story. Or are we getting a digitized rendition of similar narratives all dressed up with political correctness? Has our DNA been exploited to sell stock?

Pharmaceuticals are the capital for the scientists and bioengineers. DNA testing could be the conduit to normalize scientific explanations of the past–all the while omitting the gemological data that resembles all that is wrong with the world. Who is dealing/selling/marketing this to us? And raise your hand if you’re buying it.

Perhaps we as a society are so eager to embrace the positive and exciting aspects of our history. We don’t want to be burdened with the condemnations of a society gone array.

Ellis Island was a new beginning for many, but for others it was a resting place for family, cultures, and tales that could no longer be passed down to the next generations. (You absolutely must go back a click on the link). But please don’t forget that there were many nations that were torn apart and destroyed only to be reconstructed poorly in the new world. The original coming to America is vastly under-told. No cotton swab can ignite a recollection like that (and we wouldn’t want it too). American can’t handle it. We’ve become obsessed with the obsessed and numb to the pain.

Tabloids and opioids…junk for the mind, junk for the body. THIS is where we are. Reactive, we ponder treatment options in lieu of reconciling the pain. Mass shootings become last week’s news because the anxiety of “now” is too great. The precautions and the prohibitions do nothing to make us safer; instead these menial drills grasp at our insecurities and ignorance of the present.

We will react to the loss(es) of (un)loved-ones. We will pick up the pieces. We will search for something to ease the pain. As our eyes roll back and our existence begins to fade, your choice of chemical (or tactile) will ultimately determine (or UNDERmine) your future.

The art is longer imitating life. Our lives have emulated art.

Eighty years of radio/television, forty years of video games, thirty years of internet, twenty-five years of music videos and reality TV, ten years of smart phones and tablets, five consecutive years of hate, violence, and mistrust of organization and institution…equal the destruction of safe spaces.

We miss what’s already gone. We are mistreating what is already here.

Let’s digress. After all, it is just the day after Friday!

1994 Wishlist

the things most important to me at the age of adulthood; those moments that i would fantasize or dream of things just barely within my grasp are not even things anymore. i could not know then what i would not need (or even want) in my “mature” years. the photos should speak for themselves, but i’ll defend as we peruse…the coveted swatch watch. my peers had several. i was able to save up enough money for ONE. that’s all i needed. Now i don’t even wear a watch.

my high school counselor warned me that our regional state college would more appropriately be my dream school. i applied, and gained admission.

and then a million dollar endowment and national recognition transformed it into a university that might have made my counselors prediction accurate…

go figure!

the sports car that i dreamed of was one that i thought was practical. whereas a Porsche 928 was what i really wanted, it was its cinematic association that made it an unlikely reality

this Shelby Charger would fit the bill instead. i was fortunate enough to own one for a few months. i sold it out of anger.

Too soon…

jessica…boyish fantasies remind us of how ridiculous we can be! Bugs never had it so good. Maybe it was the red hair…

Or not…i had so many cassettes, it only seemed fitting to have a way to play them consecutively. i hadn’t imagined that i’d be financially reckless enough to own countless compact discs and that the future-me would hoard all kinds of music media.

we simply didn’t know that mp3s would be a thingi figured that typing my thoughts would be more efficient than keeping a diary. I knew that i could type almost as fast as I could think the words…

i practiced my typing. i used my sears credit card to buy one of these (an open-box special). one day i’ll be a blogger. it’s 1994. What’s a blog?

by the way, i really liked the movie The Mask. i don’t know why. i didn’t care much for Jim Carey.

Red

i had TWO high school rings. i lost the first one that my parents bought me. i bought another identical ruby ring with my grocery clerk earnings before they could find out how irresponsible i’d been. then they found the one i’d lost.

for her 13th birthday, my daughter inherited the recovered ring along with the lesson of unnecessary discretions.

when i graduated university, i bought myself an imitation emerald ring. Authenticity wouldn’t matter when it was time for my grad school ring. That one will be pure onyx for sure (even though i have no dream of achieving another degree).

Hard Knox from here on…

and those things i thought i wanted aren’t important any more. they probably weren’t important then. i just didn’t know it.