Just Breathe

I rather like being the soft place to land
A place where the dying leaf can fall with no judgement
A place where the molted feather is not forgotten

Just float. Just breathe

I will hold you softly when you land
Until you cannot breathe anymore
And you will sleep in safety
And you will sleep in peace.

SRK 03/24/2020

I Am Everything

Girl
Woman
Epitome of Femininity
Tomboy
Tough
Mirror of Masculinity

Why?

Because I have to be
Because I want to be
Because I can
Because while I hate it, I love it

I am a LOT
I AM the extra in Extrovert
My moods change with the thoughts in my head, which run on nitrous but never run out of gas.
I have found several that could HANDLE me;
but have yet to find someone safe enough to hold me.
Happy Sad Anxious Calm
Comforted Lonely Proud Ashamed
I am all of these everyday
...and that’s ok.

Shery R. Keel

September 23, 2019

But Then You

The commands "SIT DOWN!" "SHUT UP!" "BE QUIET!" "STOP TALKING!"
faded into incessantly being interrupted every time I opened my mouth
until finally the last stitch to seal the other corner of my lips was the simple impatient and disgusted eye roll from not just one important person in my life but many that brought me to being "Baby" stuck unimportantly silently in the corner not waiting for my turn to speak because I gave up on the hope of that time coming long ago.

But then you walk into the room

          just like many others before and after you

I speak after being spoken to like I have been trained to do; but my carefully cloaked identity peeks out of the hole in my sleeve in the form of my poetry and philosophy and you respond with words like "hot" and "tangy" smacking your lips with hunger making me feel like I am feeding you - no kissing you - by simply the way I choose my words and it makes me want to give you more

AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA

          HOW DIFFERENT YOU ARE
                     
                    FROM EVERYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE

Beating My Head Against the Wall

I know it’s only a feeling; but DEAR GOD does it HAVE to be so strong and can’t it SHUT OFF for just
      ONE
               SECOND  ?

I have calculated all the reasons why I do.
I remember EVERY REASON why I shouldn’t; but...like a sleeping baby’s heartbeat...
IT BEATS THE SAME !
                           CONSISTENTLY !
                                                      PERSISTENTLY !
through it all.

But SO WHAT !? It’s just a feeling, right!? It’s just love.
And yet the ONE thing that keeps me strong, the ONE memory that came too late -
ONE HUGE THICK IMPENETRABLE WALL ALONE -

I WAS
           THE ONLY ONE
                                        THAT FELT THIS WAY !

Who is That?

There is this woman I know.
It’s not me, you see.
It’s this woman I know.

She has THE WORST luck with men!
Some would say her “men picker” is broken...
BUT...maybe...it’s just her...that’s broken.

The first one nearly literally killed her.
The second one nearly killed her soul.
The third one still hurts so bad that,
AT TIMES, she wishes she could die.

YET! She still lives! Like a Phoenix rising
up out of the ashes
Because the ashes...ARE WHERE SHE LIVES!
~FEARLESS~

It’s NOT ME, you see! It’s this woman I know!
You see, she use to hide in those ashes.
Now? I embrace them because I want
to see what they will make me.

There is this woman I want to know -
The good, the bad, AND THE UGLY.
It’s me, you see!
I AM the woman I want to know.

Shery R. Keel
July 2019

How Else Are They Going to Heal

Okay...so, look! For the most part, I am a strong intelligent independent beautiful woman; but I am beginning to believe that every super hero has a sort of "kryptonite". You know? That one thing that pulls you from the clouds by your cape and slams you debilitated on the sidewalk? Yeah, that kryptonite.

In order to even begin this blog, I have to reference my previous post "This is Closure". It doesn't take a rocket scientist to decipher that I am one of many other people that fall into the trap of going back to a dysfunctional ex. Let's be real, shall we! I basically have gone back to my ex much the same way as Barry the bee tries to bust through the window.

 "This time" from The Bee Movie

I would also like to point out that it was rather comical even to me when I came back to pound out these thoughts on my poor keyboard to discover that another previous post's title was "Quitting is Just Not My Style". So, yeah! You all probably were able to predict what was going to happen even before I went through it...again.

Therefore, I would like to take the time to tell anyone else (male or female, really) before you go back to an ex, DON'T! You can think about it; but just DON'T DO IT! The key here is to THINK about it. CRITICALLY THINK about it! Don't romanticize about it. BE REAL! If it was all so glorious, you would have never agreed to end it in the first place now would you!? However, when you do (as some of you, like me, will do) and WHEN (not if) it fails, LEARN from it. I can honestly say that in the...what was it... five times...oh, lord I've lost count (YES, I'M THICK! Reread the opening there, Judgey Wudgey)...anyway - in all the many times I flew back to "Mr. Psycho McLamedick" (names have been changed to protect the guilty) and was smashed on the pavement, I did learn something.

Let me explain. So, here I am sitting at work cowering in the middle of the aftermath of emotions that are flooding over me as is always the case when we break up. Finally, I get a moment when I think I am the only one in the office. Thinking the coast is clear, the pressure cooker inside me releases some steam. There go the flood gates! I do manage to cry somewhat quietly in case some one comes back in unexpectedly but if anyone was in the office, they could have heard me. After about 3 - 5 minutes of a good cry, I commence to blowing my nose (Ladies, I don't need to explain the details of what kind of a nose blow a good 3-5 minute cry will produce). That's when I hear someone walk by! DANG IT! How could I forget a co-worker was in my very small office you ask? Well, it's only because he's like a little mouse quiet and confined to his space most of the day (Gah! you people really are judgey.)! I quickly turn my back to the doorway of my office and attempt to clear up before he walks back by. FAILED!

Thankfully, he was kind, gracious, and professional. He asked if I was ok to which after some discourse I replied, "I just need to stop licking my wounds." Get ready for his mind blowing response! He said, "How else are they going to heal." Well, just like the scripture that says, "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver..." (Proverbs 25:11) that response just melted into me and gilded to my soul. Immediately, a deep healing warmed over me and instantly gave me permission to be nice to myself. When a dog is wounded, he can be found licking the wound gently and incessantly to keep it from getting infected and to speed up the healing process. He's not biting or growling at himself. On the contrary! Rather, he snaps and growls at any potential threat that could keep him from healing or even hurt him further. Take this for whatever it's worth; but as for me I'm going to go find a dark safe corner to take care of myself until I'm ready to be approached again..."and that's ok".

This Is Closure

So, I’m curiously thinking that your Vegas Trip was with the new girl you found when you were last on POF just after we celebrated Father’s Day together. Maybe that’s why you changed your mind about taking me. Of course as hard as it is for you to keep your attention on anything, there could have been several women.

What’s funny is even if that’s not true, it wouldn’t have been the first time you have been shady while we were together. The last time we broke up was because of a message a brunette woman left me about being in your bed while I was at conference. The time before that was because of the inappropriate relationship you had (maybe even still have) with Tiffanie.

So, maybe YOU’VE been the unfaithful one from the very beginning and maybe THAT’S the real reason you never trusted me and was always checking my phone. You judged me so strictly because you knew your own behavior. You assumed that everyone acts like you when you think no one can see you.

You’ll never admit it, I know, because you can never admit that you do anything wrong. After all, you blame me for always running away but refuse to see how your gradual (but all too apparent) intolerance of me makes you aggressively and abrasively push me out the door when you’re done with me.

All I know is this, our mutual defense mechanisms made us completely incompatible; and for that I am so deeply sorry.

However, I now have enough information to finally be done with you. Regardless, thank you for being you because (while I am a slow learner), at least, I FINALLY learned. And when I come to the end of my life, if I am alone, it will be because I CHOOSE to be.

Your package is in the mail and after this message you will be completely removed from my phone and will never hear from me again. Yes, I did leave...AGAIN. However, I finally choose to believe that you pushing me away really does mean you don’t want me. So, I will never be coming back (not that you would ever ask me to).

I hope for your sake and all the women you encounter that you finally figure out what you want. I hope you can someday believe that you are NOT your father and that what he said about you was WRONG because that, my friend, is the only thing preventing you from having healthy “companionship”. I always loved you deeper, stronger, and more than anyone else in my life. I always will. Nothing will change that and...funny...THAT will change nothing.

Love Always,

Shery

I Wish

I wish I could tell you "I love you!".
I wish that was not considered wrong now.
I wish I could feel your arms wrapped around me and listen to your breath deepen as we fall asleep.
I wish we could laugh together and cook breakfast on Sunday mornings together again.
I wish for a lot of things; but most of all, I wish I didn't wish for any of these things and more.
Because all you ever wished is for me to go.

Quitting is Just Not My Style

My brother and I had a childhood relationship much like every other sibling relationship. Three years separate us. So as kids, we were close enough to have fun together but still far enough apart to annoy the piss out of each other. My childhood memories include my brother defending me against bullies; trekking through the woods exploring uncharted territories so long as we didn't go too far out of our back yard; losing money to him for various hair brained schemes he'd come up with; and getting the wind knocked out of me during football games.

The memory of playing football with my brother and his friends stands out because he would never allow anyone else to tackle me but him. I thought this would keep me safer from harm. However, experience proved he was harder on me than the others ever would have been. Looking back, I believe that his theory was if he hit me hard enough I would just quit. On one occasion, he pummeled me so hard that I didn't just bounce back to my feet. As a matter of fact, I remember it taking a bit of time just to catch my breath. I recall him standing over me when he said, "So, I suppose your going to quit now." in a sort of reverse psychological tone. At that age, though, I didn't know what psychology was let alone the reversal of it.

In a matter of seconds, I had a decision to make. Either I could quit and go find some dolls to play with, or continue on in a realm I had no business being in. No-one would have been anything but relieved had I, the only girl, spared myself the potential of broken bones and left a crowd of teenage boys on a football field. Regardless, I heard a tone in my brother's voice that made me believe he was afraid I was going to quit. So, hell no! I wasn't going to quit. If he could play on so could I. Filled with the notion that quitting was absurd, I didn't want to be considered weak or a failure.

Despite the fact that my skills were grossly inadequate for that situation, I didn't want anyone else to know that! Especially my brother. His opinion of me mattered. I wanted his acceptance. In that moment (as well as many others after) I emulated or mirrored him. Over the years, I have found that strong male figures who I admire and love have tremendous influence over me. Unfortunately, three specific men in my adult life have wreaked a lot of damage to my heart with varying degrees of severity. What's worse is I allowed it. Each time I [metaphorically] got the wind knocked out of me, I bounced back to my feet slower and slower.

Today, as I lay on my back counting the stars circling my head, I feel tempted to stay down here. Maybe I just need to catch my breath. No one would blame me. I think some expect it and others think I should just quit already.

Here's the thing, though. That's never been my style. My brother making that inquisitorial statement, "So I suppose you're going to quit now." wasn't what inspired me to bounce back to my feet. Yes, in that moment, he truly wanted me to quit and leave him and his friends alone - and rightfully so. But, my fear kept me going - fear of failure, fear of humiliation, fear of being inadequate and rejected. When given the opportunity, that fear manifested as pride. When given the option to fight or take flight, I chose then and still do to this day to fight every time. Maybe that inclination was put there by God. Regardless, this moment with my brother was the first time it manifested.

I'm still very much afraid of all of those things (i.e. failure, inadequacy, humiliation, rejection, etc.). However, ask any competitor who the most difficult opponent is and he/she will tell you it is the one that never quits. Nelson Mandela said, "I learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." So, if Aristotle said, "I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self.", then I guess I must be brave.

...now if I could just get a little help off the ground. I'm not as young and spry as I use to be.

I Never Did Mind About the Little Things

Charles Martin in his book entitled "Where The River Ends" describes an event called "the hatch". It is a time of year where mosquitoes hatch from their eggs strategically laid in watery wombs. I pray this event is fictional. If it is not, I pray I am never anywhere near the sight where this occurs as Mr. Martin adequately describes the appetite and veracity of these infant blood suckers to the point where the reader can actually visualize what the character in the book goes through once the demons reach him.
     "Most of my skin and hair turned black...Every inhale brought bugs down my throat. Abbie was screaming and slapping herself, while the bugs flew into my nose, my ears, my eyes and bit me through my clothes or on bare skin. Within seconds, my skin and face were on fire."

Later, he describes his appearance after escaping the violent insect mob.
     "I, on the other hand, was swelling and starting to look like somebody had shoved an air hose up my nose and inflated my face." And he went on to say, "My face was on fire and both my left ear and left eye were nearly swollen shut. The tops of my hands and fingers were so fat that the paddle felt twice as thick as it had an hour ago."

I want to point out the difference in the way the two characters responded to this winged attack. First, let's look at the male character named Doss. Once he heard the sound, he took action and ran for shelter thinking only of protecting his wife. While his adrenaline was pumping, he never lost focus on what he needed to do. Now, Abbie, on the other hand reacted completely differently.
     "She slapped me six or eight times in the face, each slap growing harder each time. Abbie hated mosquitoes. She was about to slap me again when I grabbed her hand. 'Honey...you're not helping.' Blood was dripping out of the corner of my mouth where she'd hit me. 'Oh...oops.'"

Yes, men and women do respond differently to the same circumstances just by virtue of gender. However, no matter what gender one may be, I believe there can be calculated responses to potentially overwhelming situations. However, we must be willing to stop and think instead of reacting out of sheer unbridled emotion.

Oddly enough, this reminds me of a 90's movie entitled "Assassins / Point of No Return". Bridget Fonda and Anne Bancroft star together in a scene where Anne's character (Amanda) must train Bridget's character (Maggie) etiquette to balance her rigid assassin training. Amanda tells Maggie to smile when she finds herself in an uncomfortable situation and say, "I never did mind about the little things." Amanda's statement in this film has stuck with me and troubled me greatly all these years. You see, I've struggled to foster a feminine refined demeanor to counter the protective turtle shell I have crafted around me. While Amanda's statement may be an escape hatch in a troublesome social situation, I find it deceptive but at the same time controlled. Then I realize social situations and society as a whole thrive on these two ingredients. We remain calm, cool, and collected in times of trial because not to would expose our vulnerability, make others uncomfortable, and may even invoke chaos. And we cannot have chaos, can we? In my journey to find my own truth and path, I have a hard time not seeing this as hypocritical. Maturity and time has taught me, though, that it is not necessary to expose everything to everyone.

Now, remaining collected and graceful may be easy to do when A mosquito anchors to one's flesh. One could simply swat the sucker away while quipping, "I never did mind about the little things." glide their nose skyward and sip some Earl Grey with left pinky slightly lifted. But I cannot imagine accomplishing this display when one is swarmed with fifty thousand mosquitoes. Even Audrey Hepburn may have a strand of hair come out of place while trying to escape a vicious swarm of that magnitude.

All this is to say that life is full of troublesome, irritating, and nagging situations. We all know this. Admittedly, there is a temptation in me to reform society by breaking the norms, expose vulnerability, and break pretenses and facades with radical honesty. After all, society is about nothing more than appearing to have it all together equipped with all the answers when in fact that could not be further from the truth. On the other hand, however, society still has some redeemable qualities. Manners and etiquette are something I not only believe in but I admire them in others. So, once again, I find myself teetering between two ideas trying to establish balance.

Balance did not come to Bridgett Fonda's angry character in the movie just by blowing away her targets as a means of seeking vengeance for her dysfunctional life. Neither did she find peace when Anne Bancroft's character tried to refine her. Maggie had to find her own way out of a mess. In my interpretation of the movie, she used the sum of her life (past, present, and future), the people she loved and those responsible for educating her to decide her own path. In order to do this, Maggie had to make tough, scary, calculated, and deliberate decisions. The statement, "I never did mind about the little things." was meant to force emotions and thoughts into submission before squeezing a hair trigger. Life is full of conflict both internal and external. No one is perfect at picking their conflicts all the time. The trick is to find peace amidst strife. When peace comes, that is when I will be able to smile and say, "I never did mind about the little things." for with peace comes clarity of mind. With clarity of mind, comes discernment to define what ''little things" are versus what is paramount.

Vertigo

To open or close her eyes - it makes no difference.
Night gets darker with each blink.
Bracing and balancing against the wall or is it the floor?
Feet feel for support on the ceiling.
Progress is impossible on a circular path.
Is there an exit or just more mirrors?
Maybe when she falls asleep she will wake from this reality.

I Wonder

Knowing that I am touchy and sensitive has never been much of a secret to anyone. What has been difficult is knowing how to balance the sensitive feminine side of me with the "she-devil" that appears when I feel mistreated, taken advantage of, or offended. In an earlier post, I made a commitment to becoming a survivor. In this process, I have encountered a perplexing dilemma. In an effort to endure some past scenarios, I traded my femininity for a rough and tough exterior. There was no depth to this veneer at all. It was only a facade to disguise who I really am as a means to protect myself from harm. This did not create emotional balance in me. It only served to throw all the weight to another side.

Suffice it to say, then, that it has not been easy shifting the weights appropriately. I am currently asking God for wisdom to know what I need to change or how to see things through His eyes because I am in such unfamiliar territory. I do not feel equipped to adequately assess my progress. For instance, a scenario recently at work involved a disagreement between myself and a co-worker regarding whether I could replace a picture in my office that had been there prior to my arrival (possibly before any one's arrival by the looks of it) with one of my own personal wall hangings. My co-worker seemed to protest my request passionately, causing me to react. A whole host of thoughts and emotions rose up in me - too many to type out. In short, I took it personally and therefore, became defensive. Despite my efforts to restrain my emotions, my face exposed (as usual) everything I was feeling. A disagreement ensued, which bothered me well into the next morning when I was further offended by my co-worker's seeming smug attitude, which made me feel like she was rubbing something in my face. Overall, I do not feel very successful in dealing with this situation appropriately and professionally.

You see, I understand that in life disagreements will happen. I understand that I cannot experience euphoria every second of every day. However, once the disagreement was addressed and seemingly resolved, I think there should have been a shut off switch that allowed me to let it go and move on. What is it about me that allows me to feel even the most trivial things so deeply? This sort of vulnerability and propensity is where I feel the greatest temptation to put on my rough and tough exterior again. Making such mountains out of molehills, especially when I see others glide through similar situations with the greatest of ease, is so frustrating to me. It makes me wonder if I should just make peace about it and stop negating or ignoring my emotions since they are mine and I have a "right" to them; but that thinking repulses me. On the other hand, I cannot help but sense that there is something I am missing - some metaphorical key that will unlock an invisible door to wonderful new insights and skills that will assist me in all my future confrontations. Does such a thing exist? I wonder...

Prayer List

Feeling compelled in my spirit, I have created a prayer list for the first time in my life. This is not to say that I have not prayed prior to now. I just mean that this is the first time I have actually made a point to document requests, pray for them, and track them. I am excited to see in black and white the results of prayer. I have heard others' experiences. Now, it's time to see them for myself.

So, if you have a request and would like to be added to my prayer list feel free to contact me by email, leave a comment here, or hit me up on Facebook. Each request will be completely confidential. I respect everyone's right to privacy especially over potentially sensitive issues. I would ask that as soon as you see something change regarding your request, even if it is seemingly negative, PLEASE let me know as soon as possible. My prayer list is meant to be a faith building tool as well as to learn how to enrich my prayer life. I really do believe that I will not be the only one to benefit from this experience, however.

For those of you who may wonder what my credentials are: I have none. I am walking through the same muddy spiritual battlefield as everyone else. This announcement is just an offer to have one more soldier lock arms with you till the war is over.

Honesty Is Not Always the Comfortable Policy

Recently, a visit to the doctor's office revealed that I had lost 7lbs! I was very excited since prior to this I have had a tremendous difficulty losing weight. If I did lose anything it would be 5lbs only to gain it right back. So, the extra 2 lbs that somehow disappeared gave me great hope that I had broken a mysterious cycle.

I thought it a mystery because of denial. No, I am not talking about the river in Egypt. You know denial - it is the package of lies we tell ourselves hoping to escape some sort of truth we are just not quite ready to face yet. My inescapable truth was appetite and lack of activity has been the real cause of stubborn high scale numbers. However, I am now ready to face the truth. In order to see those numbers drop, feel a difference in the way my clothes fit, and feel better about myself, I MUST admit that I can no longer eat anything I want. I NEED to realize that sitting on the couch will not give me any more energy than what I have; but, in fact, it will suck even more life out of me.

My goal right now is to keep the magnetic 7lbs from clinging right back to me. If I can accomplish this, maybe I can move on to another 7lb decrease. I am taking it one baby step at a time. My greatest hurdle is the seeming disconnect between the fleshy apron that jiggles at my midsection and the verbiage such as fat, cellulite, pounds, excess food, insufficient exercise, etc. It is as if those horrible adjectives and nouns are so egregious they cannot possibly be real. Therefore the legitimate cause my thighs act as flint and chaff for a boy scout trying to start a fire for the first time must still be a mystery. Do I smell smoke?  Those ugly words need to come out of ambiguity and race into reality as tangible objects that can be controlled.

How can fat, cellulite, pounds, cottage cheese butts, fire starting thighs, and jiggly midsections be controlled? This, my friends, is the million dollar question. Millions of people spend millions of dollars on gimmicks to lose weight which include cosmetic surgeries. However, let me just answer this valuable question for free. Most already know the answer. Some could have medical issues preventing them from being the size they want to be. Others are completely content with the size they are; but for me the answer is DENIAL! It's okay, though. Everybody has been in denial about something at least once in their lifetime. We all have a right to come to our truths in our own time. The fact still remains, however, that if I do not want my butt to look like I eat McDonald's burgers and fries, I cannot EAT McDonald's burgers and fries ALL the time. When I succumb to the temporary theme song, "I'm Lovin' It!", I HAVE to remind myself the regret that will come in like a wave once my justification and craving wears off. If I want to prevent starting forest fires with my thighs, I must increase my activity. My legs can and do move quicker than I thought they could. I must test this theory on a consistent and regular basis to see the real benefits; but this is more than a theory. It is a fact. I save loads of money off my grocery bill when I stop overeating. It's amazing how little food I can get away with eating and still be satisfied compared to what I normally stuff into my body. I increase the amount of free time I have when I spend less time bellied up to a buffet bar. This time could be spent playing with my kids or getting involved in more productive hobbies.

I know this is a touchy subject. So, calm down. For those not ready to face this truth yet, just book mark this blog and come back to it when you are. This is not coming from a skinny beautiful stick figure. I openly admit that I am a short robust beautiful stump. This blog is meant only to reveal the truth I have come to know. This is not a judgment or command for others to be skinny. I agree with those who think the media puts too much pressure on ladies to look like Twiggy or Kate Moss, which I view as grotesque anyway.

The real moral of this story is that there is a great amount of confidence and satisfaction that comes from being healthy for all the right reasons. I can deprive myself of excess or unhealthy fats and sugars and not only do I experience positive changes in my appearance; but I also feel better physically. Amazingly still, my inner spirit feels tremendous benefits when I am true to and discipline myself. I feel emotionally healthy. If anyone gleans anything from this blog I hope it is encouragement to look within and see if there is any untruth lurking in a dark barricaded sacred corner regarding any uncomfortable topic. Why? Shakespeare said it best, "This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." Basically, you cannot even start to be honest to anyone else until you are first honest with yourself. I wish you all grace, peace, and freedom in your endeavors to discover your own truths.

One Two Punch

Well, I barely could gather my thoughts regarding the death of the prominent religious figure, David Wilkerson, when reports came in about the death of Osama Bin Ladin. So, now to wade through all of the far reaching impacts and meaning behind both men.

First, David Wilkerson, is an icon of peace, tolerance, and second chances. He was the author of Cross and the Switchblade known for his radical work with gang members and street preaching. Eventually, he founded Teen Challenge providing a safe haven and refuge from drug addictions with this program steeped in faith and the delivering power of God. Pastor of Times Square Church, David Wilkerson delivered what some would describe as prophetic sermons while effecting his community by helping the homeless. For him to pass as a result of a car accident, it was to me as if someone punched me in the stomach. My thoughts were, "How could this happen? and Why so tragically?" Car accidents are not the way noble creatures are suppose to pass from this world to the next, in my opinion. Nonetheless, that is exactly what happened and my thoughts were and are the world will experience a great void from his absence.

Before I could even catch my breath, the second punch came this morning with the notification that US Forces had found, executed, and buried at sea Osama Bin Laden. Despite the fact that (in my opinion) Osama is in a completely different category of man than David Wilkerson, I found myself hesitant to be as jubilant as others. I know the man was responsible for the torture and deaths of numerous souls. I have not forgotten what happened on September 11, 2001 at his command. However, I cannot find it in myself to celebrate since I know as many others do that this is neither a cure all nor the end of the violence. We as an American people should not be naive to think that there is not someone just as passionate about the cause as what Bin Ladin was; and possibly even more so now that he has been "martyred" in his followers' eyes.

I can find it easier to breathe, however, when I look at it in the sense of a balancing of the scales. The world felt the void of a righteous man's passing; but we can be somewhat relieved that a bit of evil was overcome. Call it the duality in me; but it makes it easier to recover from this "one two punch".

Assume the Position

A career criminal found himself in yet another precarious predicament. Lights and sirens swirling and whining behind him informed him that his time was up...again. Hesitantly, he pulled his vehicle over to the side of the road. Sure enough, the officer that pulled him over was the same who had caught him so many other times. Simultaneously, both men sighed in amazement and rolled their eyes in disbelief. The officer called the criminal by his name to get out of the car. Upon exiting the vehicle, the officer said, "Assume the position."

Resisting the temptation to ask others what the phrase "assume the position" brings immediately to mind, we'll all just note that this phrase has a negative connotation. Suffice it to say that we all have probably been in situations where we have felt "caught", violated, or taken advantage of (maybe even more than once) to the point that it becomes "old hat". Consequently, we find ourselves in these moments assuming a familiar position as a result of (excuse the psychology term) conditioning. This blog will hopefully serve as a tool to recondition (if necessary) the stance we choose to take in stressful or even traumatic times in our lives.

We all have different postures we assume in troublesome times. So, let's talk about five that have come to my mind. First, we have those people that assume the defensive stance. Probably the most popular of choices, the defensive stance is assumed as a means of self preservation when faced with what one may view as an attack, problem, or stressful situation. Second, we have the victim pose. It may not be self explanatory to some. Suffice it to say, this posture can come after a series of painful events and one must be handled gently while frozen here. Third, is another common approach to problematic situations - the escape artist. Especially in the current fad of prescription/illicit drug abuse, many people choose to act as escape artists by drowning problems in drugs or even alcohol abuse; but do not be mistaken! ANYTHING can be used to escape problems too big to face alone. The fourth option (and my least favorite) is a perpetrator. There are some who have felt like they have been short changed so often that they will no longer sit back and wait to be taken advantage of but instead inflict retribution on others - sometimes even innocent bystanders.

Before we try to identify with a specific category that we may or may not fit into, let it be said that one person can take any or all of these positions at some point in a lifetime and sometimes all at once. Could this be the reason we see so many people hurting others in our society today? I make no claims to be an expert. Neither will I attempt to make this something worthy of being posted on the APA website. However, I do feel an extreme need to point out that in my life I have justified my behavior solely on the merits of what has been done to me. If I have done this, then it could very well be possible that others have as well. So, if by my admission I can encourage someone or join someone in their shadows to make them feel less alone, so be it.

Therefore, let me just share the postures I have assumed in my lifetime. I will try to make it as chronological as I can to bear out the progression. In my younger years, I was very trusting and naïve. I could be tricked by the silliest of pranks because I just wanted to belong so badly. I never got hurt by these pranks only maybe slightly embarrassed. As I got older, though, I would get so angry at myself for being so stupid that I began striking back in a defensive manner with sarcasm and cutting comebacks. Soon, my behavior became less reactionary in an attempt to head pain off at the pass. I began perpetrating painful things on others before they had a chance to hurt me. I justified it as preventative maintenance. As more time passed and more of life happened, I encountered many traumatic circumstances to the point that I just could not be strong enough to fight back, which left me victimized with a cowering personality. This infuriated me because I hated feeling and being viewed as weak. It was completely unacceptable for me. So, I tried to escape from my problems. I used various methods all failing miserably despite my justification of retaliation for all that had been done to me and all it left me with was a reflection that I despised.

To reiterate what I said earlier, I am no expert and by no means do I have all the answers. What I do know is this: I have assumed the defensive position and I, along with many others, still got hurt. I have assumed the perpetrator position and innocent people got hurt. I have assumed the victim position and hated my own weakness. I have assumed the escapist position and people were horribly effected by my absence. What is the common thread? People got hurt in EVERY ONE of these positions and at NO time did I ever successfully protect myself from pain. Why? Because in life there WILL be pain. None of us like this fact! We do not want to hear or be reminded of it; but it is still the reality.

I use to hate the scripture in *Matthew 5:44 that says, "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;". Equally as troublesome was the scripture in *Matthew 18:21, 22 that states, "Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times: but, until seventy times seven." I mean, come on! Really? I am expected to forgive the same person for the same thing 490 frickin' times in the SAME DAY???!!! Get outta here! There is no way. It's not fair to just let those hateful horrible people that hurt me off the hook. These scriptures were so troublesome that I rebelled against them, refusing to operate that way. I punished those who hurt me by not forgiving them and holding them internally and eternally responsible. The only problem was my perpetrators were completely apathetic and oblivious to the grudges that I re-lived [sometimes] daily. Ashamedly, after many years of holding everyone internally accountable for everything they said or did or didn't say or do to me, I realized that these principles were given to me not as a means to give predators a license to victimize me. Instead, these principles served as a key to unlock the shackles that bound and tormented me.

There we have it. We all have been given the keys to unlock us from the imprisonment of any pain we have experienced from problems, stresses, or trauma. So, go and be free! Right? Well, I don't know about you, but I hate pat answers and have very little respect for those that flip them off their tongues. I do not need to tell anyone who has ever really seriously been hurt how hard it is to truly forgive the source(s) of pain and move on truly free in life. What I have spelled out here in this blog may be exactly what others have gone through or not at all close. After all, everyone is different. However, what I encourage anyone who is facing something right now to do is assume the fifth position that I have purposely saved until now and that is the survivor position.

Being a survivor is the most rewarding position one could ever take and yet the most difficult. The survivor approach in life is much like the attitude found in *2 Corinthians 4:7-10 that says, "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. [We are] troubled on every side, yet not distressed; [we are] perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body." Mother Teresa said it another way: "People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway. If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway. What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway. Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway." (http://www.prayerfoundation.org/mother_teresa_do_it_anyway.htm)

What does the survivor position look like? Again, it may look as many different ways as there are people. To me, however, I assume the survivor position best when I face the cross on Calvary, acknowledge the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and do my very best to live as He did. If I do this, maybe one day I can (like Stephen in Acts 7:55, 56) focus my attention more on the mutual love and respect that Christ and I share than the current pain I am suffering. I wonder what society would look like if everyone reconditioned themselves to assume this survivor position.

*All scripture references were taken from www.blueletterbible.org in the King James Version.

Ground Zero

I stand facing the foundation of the house I have built.
Surrounding it and me (for as far as the eye can see) is the debris from catastrophic events initiated by my own hands and the hands I have hired. Still the destruction surprises me despite the warning signs I have ignored at every regressive stage.

The dust is settling and the noises have ceased. Yet my ear drums are still throbbing from the clamoring. I wipe the pain and splinter invoked tears from my eyes. Hopelessness accompanied by grief hung on me like a yoke strapped to a beast of burden when the structure collapsed over a month ago.

Some "on-lookers" were relieved that the dilapidated structure finally fell. Others, when they see me, still gaze with pity and hold a little tighter to what they have - grateful it is not them standing in my place. Yet, there are my friends and loyal companions who rush to my side with kind words and able hands to aid in the clean up. Rain begins to fall clearing the remaining dust still lingering in the air. I can see the sun.

I cover my eyes from the glare. In the distance I see a figure approaching. I think I know Him; but it's been a while. He walks with authority and determination. Initially, my spirit within me quivers with fear and shame. Yet, it is futile to try to hide what I have done. Then I see His face. The disappointment and pain of what I am going through is marked in His eyes and it cuts me to the bone. I shed tears I thought had dried.

The Hero holds me up as my body is weak from my self-inflicted trauma. His eyes change from pain to purpose wiping the streaks from my dingy cheeks. We turn around and look at the mess I have made. There is no denying what has happened. My grip on His strong arm tightens as I survey the daunting task of cleaning it all up. I shamefully admit, "I just can't do it. I can't fix it. This is just too big for me."

My Hero responds with a grin, "That's what I have been waiting to hear." Suddenly a masterful mystical crew of workers arrives on the scene attending to my needs, nursing my wounds, cleaning up the destruction, and blessing those who have stood by me despite my gross imperfection. Humility overwhelms my hopelessness and gratitude replaces the grief.

Today I stand at ground zero where the Architect has graciously assumed the chore of making over my life. He has cleaned up what I have destroyed and is building a perfect foundation to replace the unstable one I so arrogantly thought I could construct my way on my own. He will decide when the project is complete, but today I already like how much better it looks.

Walking out of Dysfunction

Jet black is disturbed by pinpoints of stark white expanding

to expose shades of gray.

Strikes of crimson and copper fade into deep blues and

iridescent indigo.

Flashes of tainted green appear.

Golden yellow comes to the rescue and continues on into glowing orange.