It’s all in the eyes.

Daily writing prompt
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Well, I think I am already on the way.

Dad, guessing at about my age today.

Me.

Got the goatee goin’, can’t say the same for the hair.

Ten years from now?

Well, first off, I am starting to get that sense for taking more of all of it in, like he did. Its like a recalibration of sorts. Very subtle in nature. He was a guiet, old soul. Spoke only when warranted and needed. Quietly acted on others needs. Dynamics being what they were, I allowed them to assume control and didn’t expend the effort needed to know him better. A very tough lesson to come to grips with at this time in my life.

There are others too, their origins now becoming more apparent. No point in resentment or excessive rumination. Awareness, understanding and acceptance will suffice. Nothing to be excised, that just isn’t possible. They can just take solace and company with the slides, college papers and photos in the storage bins in the basement.

Now I can make the most of this moment and today. And as I surmised on my delinquently posted prompt from yesterday, I intend to fully engage in this again if given another tomorrow. There is so much to “be” right now, I can’t waste it by looking ahead. Or allow anything from before misshape and misconstrue today.

He is emitting this wonderful sense in his picture. “Vibe” doesn’t do a man from his time justice. Let’s say energy. Maybe there is a better term. His posture and eyes go together. All natural. Like “I got this”.

Mine?

You can see it was posed. Some rigor mortis. Not there yet. Remains a work in progress.

But I am ok with that. Things are coming around. Maybe it takes another ten years. A couple more after that ? Perhaps the timer goes off before hand. No clue. But however that transpires, I will keep working at it. My aim is to get to whereever he was in this picture in their kitchen.

There is a warmth despite being such a stoic. A sense of acceptance. True peace and serenity there, all for the sharing. I think towards the end, he found that his life was not only good. But right there, it is good.

You can just tell.

It’s all in the eyes.

As it was intended.

Was able to elicit a profoundly layered perspective regarding the nature of stymieing personal challenges during a conversation this morning. It was one of those epiphanical moments that sent this stoic noggin a spinning. I am from the vinyl era, so that do make sense.

So when you are enmeshed in multitude personal issues and shortcomings that confound thought, word and deed, for whatever reason, they get tangled up, one in another. Constricting you like a leash or rope, tethering you to poor choices, deceit, ego, control, anger, resentment and strangely enough, isolation and abandonment. One would think that change in some manner or fashion would enable you to break free from this confinement with a steady, forceful pull.

Perhaps.

But if the thoughts, words and deeds remain the same, you will find yourself right back where you were before. Tied to the behaviors that led you to that personal imprisonment in the first place. Only this time, the rope maybe stronger, shorter and more painfully wrapped about your body mind, heart and soul.

Someone next to me referred to the act of unentanglement.

Coming to understand and confront what has you bound, one strand at a time. He cited that even though you may refrain from the action, the habitual self convincing approach to its continuation may yet remain. As such, each of those contrivances utilized to promulgate and perpetuate your current falsehood of a life need to be addressed, understood, cut, and dropped by the side of the road.

Period.

Maybe you can break that rope once or twice. But the fiber of its creation yet remains. Guaranteed to only come back in a stronger, more inhibiting and existence sapping manner.

But, if you break and then eliminate each strand, confinement to that way can no longer exist. Your change in your approach towards life then actually forms its own strands. Acting to extend outward, connecting you to others, healthy pursuits and affirming growth that act together, extending your reach, broadening your horizons and affirming your newly found true self.

Becoming woven into life in this manner means you are enmeshed with others.

True, healthy connection.

Ineinander.

One into the other.

Poor choices, ego, deceit, control, anger and resentment bind one up into isolation and abandonment. Cutting that cord, strand by strand, is freeing. It brings about a deeper understanding and appreciation for what you can become. No longer bound to the past, you can remain fully in the present. Abound in peace and serenity. Connecting to integrity, character, humility, joy and fulfilment.

The bond you now feel is that of respect, support, gratitude, compassion and love. One into the other.

One into living.

As it was intended.

Boy do they ever.

This time of year is especially wondrous for me.

I veered off this path for whatever reason some years back. If you are not present, you cannot appreciate where you are and what what you are becoming. Shiny things can appear and once they begin to catch on and command your attention, they multiply. Hiding honesty about a past and inhibiting the truth yet to be. My focus is much better. I am seeing things for what they are.

These past twenty seven days have been illuminating to say the least. Things are different. The written and spoken word have new meaning and depth. Cannot say I have the answers, but man do things make some semblance of sense. Finally. Just keep that clock ticking so I can experience more.

Please.

So, there was the story in John this week about His encounter with a man, blind since birth. I read many of the reflections shared about it and the significance and meaning of His gift. It found a home in my thoughts that have since grown to become some rare and perpetual insight for this old man.

We are all of the earth. And once it is our time, to that we shall return.

But in the interim, by no means is our vision meant to be held solely to those worldly matters. Dirt for lack of a better term. I cannot speak to the man who came into being on this earth blind. But it struck me that He made a hyrdating compress consisting of dirt and His holy water and applied it directly to his afflicted vision. He wished him to be held souly to what He saw in and for him.

Those that pranced about in their costumes and “Holy” garb monitored His actions closely. Taking account of his sabbath violations and untoward behavior. Actually tending to those that needed it most no matter the penalties that would be accrued towards and against Him. Strange how they too were blind to what was really happening. Pride, position, status and most of all – ego – blend themselves into a compress of blindness all their own. Distorting sight to an appreciation of only those things to be had here. Of this earth.

So the man of no known origins, once gifted his heavenly mud pack, was then sent to Siloam. To bathe and allow the waters to cleanse him. Baptismal in nature? A washing away of the sins of this world, emphatically covering his eyes, so that he could finally possess sight? Not just things of this world. But actually “see” what life can be here and now, using a loving mold of His making.

To bad those adorned in the dirt of this world refused to take heed of the same exact offering. Too offensive a suggestion to remove the attire of earthly desires so they too could actually see. Chances are, many if not all of them were too blind since birth. If I can be honest, that seems to have been my challenge as well. So caught up with ego and what is made only here that I was never able to see what is given so that I may last forever. Grace that will shepard us far beyond the dirt from whence we came.

He applied it to my eyes long ago. I just never consented to listening so that I would consent to wash it away. Didn’t think I needed to. Afterall, I was in charge. Plus, it would have violated my personal sabbath rules and regimen. My pharisee-ical nature would never have allowed that.

Consent isn’t so much the correct word. It means I have control. Talk about misnomers.

Acceptance is far more like it.

Since I let go, He removed the dirt. An ongoing baptism if you will.

And with that, things sure look so different.

Boy do they ever.

Not from this.

Daily writing prompt
Do you need a break? From what?

This one is a wee bit complicated. So this may be short and sweet, long and arduous, or “just right”. No clue. Well, here goes….

Recently, I came to several conclusions, literally and figuratively. Whoops.

At this moment, I am incapable of correctly starting the next phrase with “…from the former perspective” or “..in the latter view..” when it comes to a conclusion. Must have missed that day in etymology. Sorry. But I digress….

Let’s just say that for most of my time here on earth, I had been unable understand my value. Know my worth. Grasp my abilities and talents. I have pretty much always allowed myself to be defined. And perhaps worst of all, sought confirmation of all of these inadequacies – and more – through others. This conclusion, that I enabled others to validate me has now become the other conclusion.

Adios my friend.

Taking a break from heinously breaking myself down into a shattered collection of fragments, pieces and chunks. A shambles of what I was meant to be. Concluding that part of my life. Finito.

And since I now have this amazing collection of Mark Legos, I can build something I never once imagined.

Piece by piece. Bit by bit. Moment by moment. An opportunity I have been given that arrived precisely when I most needed it.

Grace.

As my new foundation begins to takes shape, for once, I am fully present. I build to a different voice.

I cannot imagine what is gonna go into the first floor. And I have no clue how many more stories or outbuildings will be added after that. No bother. I just love this kind of building. I trust it will be just what has always been needed. It will be everyhing it is meant to be when all is said and done.

Then finally, so will I.

Do I need a break?

Not from this.

Did I miss something?

Daily writing prompt
What do you complain about the most?

My stoic nature being what it is, one would think by appearance alone, all I do is complain. Perhaps there is an element of truth to that revelation. Take it as you wish, I think this is how I complain.

First, no offense intended by using some of the following statements and inherent descriptions. They pretty much say it like it is about this guy and how I see things.

I am another version of OCD.

Obsessive/cleaning/coordinating/combining/correcting/clarifying/composing/confronting/considering/congratulating/disorder. Maybe I missed a few. Oh, completing. If I think of more, I will circle back. But I digress….

I like things to be in order. Not always mine. Just in order so that we have time to live. In establishing a pattern, things flow, they happen and there are little or no distractions created to take one off their game. So dishes get done, washer filled and unfilled, dirty clothes in laundry room waiting their turn, recyling routine, beds made. You know a sense of order. Not perfection, that ain’t possible. Just intention. So I can bore you all with this prompt today. Aren’t you glad.

So where the complaining comes in is pretty much internal. I live the flow around here, and when I see something that could go better or makes more sense based on how we live, then I just adjust accordingly. Don’t tell them to do it. Just do it myself and let things happen. No one comes home to discover the laundry room now in the living room to improve efficiency and recycling bins in the kitchen. (Yet) Just looking at the big picture and smoothing out rough edges.

Sort of how I coach too.

I understand the objectives, see the big picture and figure out ways to gain growth, improvement, achievement and excellence. Not in a complaining, hen pecking, diminishing and scolding manner. Rather, gaining trust, understand what it is I see in you, let me show you how to get there. Then, just play. Practice is for practice; coaching them up, fine tuning, instilling self discipline, repetition, trust. Games are games. Times to be encouraged, reminded to stick with the fundamentals, stay together and have fun.

Applies to my current vocation as well. Job development for those with diverse abilities is just like coaching football in my estimation. No pads to speak of, except maybe to protect one from beating themselves up. But hey, we all do that, don’t we? Work the fundamentals, practice, observe and let them play. Some of the interviews I have witnessed were way better than a come from behind game on the field.

So, from a strictly definition oriented standpoint, I really do not have anything to complain about.

Not a thing.

Could I be more patient, understanding and listen better? Heck yeah.

Could I smile more than twice a year? Yup.

Stop the internal fussing? Wait, who’s fussing?

Let things be? I will get back to you on that.

In the end, I get to be my OCD self, as currently described above. Live a life around those that get it. And still be loved.

No complaints whatsoever.

Whew.

Wait.

Did I miss something?